Chapter 21 – RALPH
Ryan, Allen, Gustav, Marianne, Rachel and Ralph were sitting at the table in the Marriott Hotel restaurant. Business was lively tonight as the hotel was packed for the upcoming weekend activities. Ryan started the ball rolling.
“Order anything you like, folks. The hotel management knows that we’re part of the event that is making them bucks hand over fist this weekend, earning us a reasonable discount of ‘free’. Speaking of finances, Marianne, did you draw that check I asked you for earlier?”
“Yes, Boss.”
“Fine, since you’re nearest to the recipient, please do the honors.” Marianne took an envelope out of her purse and handed it to Ralph. Ryan noticed, as did Rachel, that Marianne held on to her side just a little longer than necessary and the smile was just a tad broader and a smidgen sweeter than her usual. Ryan and Rachel exchanged a quick glance with each other.
Ralph asked, “Should I open it, or would that be rude?”
Gustav answered, “It’s part of the evening’s entertainment. It would be rude not to, young man.”
Ralph smiled. It was nice at forty-five to be called ‘young man’ by anyone, and the company was pleasant. He glanced to his left. Very pleasant. He opened the envelope and peeked at the check.
The others knew how much it was, but played dumb. All eyes were on Ralph, waiting for realization to strike. They weren’t disappointed. “Whoooee! I don’t make that kind of money in a week, much less one fare. Look, thanks, but...”
Marianne reached over with her right hand and pressed her index finger on Ralph’s lips. She looked into his eyes, smiled and said, “Shut up and take the money. I’m not a cheap date.”
“Yes ma’am, shutting up now.”
While the rest were chuckling, Ralph caught the sudden diversion of Ryan’s attention, then the respectful silence of the others. Ryan was focused towards the bar where patrons bided their time while waiting for a table. Ralph cast a quick glance to his left to see what had caught his host’s attention, then noticed that no one else was doing that, but rather were waiting for Ryan to say something. Ryan’s face showed attention, then surprise and wonderment. He said, “Three of them? As if two weren’t bad enough.” Ralph looked at the bar again, furrowing his brow in confusion. There were a dozen people there and five were female. There were two bartenders, not three. Something wasn’t adding up right. Bringing his attention back to the table, he saw everyone’s attention, except for Ryan’s, was now on himself. Analysis of expressions: amusement.
“Would someone please tell me what is going on here?”
“Vanessa, how do you think we should go forward on this?”
“Who’s Vanessa?”
“Him? Oh, that’s Ralph, our driver. He’s OK.”
“Marianne, who’s he talking to?”
“Why Vanessa, silly. Weren’t you listening? Would you like to try one of my scallops? They’re delicious.”
“Who’s Vanessa?”
“His wife. Mind if I steal one of your stuffed mushrooms? Oooh, those are wonderful!”
Ralph gave up on Marianne, for the moment. He looked at Gustav and mouthed, “Help.”
Gustav leaned over and said, “You know, Ralph, you’re not making a very good showing for yourself. You impressed me greatly in the cab, today. The reason you are here is that you have a talent in perception that we might be able to use to help a lot of good people who are in big trouble. This team is the only one who can rescue them. Now, be a good fellow and see what you can gather. Make me proud of you.”
Ralph just sat there with his mouth open wanting to say something, anything, but nothing would come to mind. Marianne speared another of his mushrooms with one hand and used the other to shut Ralph’s jaw.
“Was this a test,” he wondered? “Of course it’s a test. That’s obvious. Who are these nuts that roped me into this? Why should I stick around for this insanity?” He had half a mind to get up right then and there and bail out of this loony bin.
That’s when a soft voice whispered in his left ear, “Ralph, just try. You don’t know how important what we are doing is. Please?” That almost did it. There followed a soft kiss on his cheek, which raised some eyebrows and smiles. That did it.
Gustav saw the clincher and spoke to Ralph. “Would you mind very much speaking your thoughts aloud? I want to see how you work things through and something you might say could spark an idea with someone else. That’s how it works here.”
“Sort of a think tank, you’re saying? I can handle that.”
“Vanessa, slow down, you’re losing me.”
Gustav nudged Ryan. “Mind keeping it down a little? Right, Ralph, you’re on.”
Ralph took in a deep breath and pursed his lips as he slowly exhaled. “Clear the mind and let it flow,” he thought. “Ryan is ‘Boss’. Gustav, you’re ‘Major Domo’. Marianne, you’re ‘Facilitator’, smoothing the wrinkles so that things get done. You three are the core, since you’ve done most of the talking and interaction is smoothest with you. Rachel and Allen are new. They volunteer things, but aren’t used to the flow yet. Rachel is the mother to Allen, that’s obvious. The father is either out of the loop, or passed on. Judging from Rachel’s face, it’s the latter. I’m sorry.”
“That’s all right, Ralph. Go on. I’ll tell you about Carl, later.”
“(So, why are you wearing a ring? Remarried? If so, where is Hubby II?) I look forward to it. Rachel and Marianne are best buds, but that friendship is new, not completely comfortable and there are speed bumps.”
Gustav chuckled, “Got that right. They’re aliens.”
“Allen is puzzling me. You might be related to Ryan. There is a vague resemblance of features, but there is more a similarity of personality, corrected for age. Uncle?”
Allen smiled. “Strike one, but no one can fault you on that one. More on that, later. By the way, color me impressed.”
“You’re important to this group, but you’re new. You’re being groomed for something, a main role of some kind. In the process, you won a trip to the ER. You’re not damaged, from what I can see, but whatever happened today had and still has all of you concerned beyond just a noggin knock. The group here has heavy-duty plans and they’re coming to a head soon, probably something to do with that thing this weekend. You have rooms in a hotel that has been booked solid for two months, so your plans are at least that old. The rooms you got say that you have juice in town. Your accents say you’re from up north, so that says you have juice in other areas, too. The new people came in after the main plans were set in motion, so you were either picked up at random like I was, or you were recruited after being observed by Boss, Domo and/or Manager. How am I doing?”
Even Ryan had stopped talking. He was watching and listening carefully in amazement. Ralph noticed and said, “Careful Ryan. Last time I did that I lost half my plate to Marianne.”
“Guy's got a decent sense of humor. I like that. Add it to the resume,” thought Ryan.
“Ryan, you talk to people that aren’t there and everyone else takes it as nothing special. That makes you a very rich eccentric whose nut has slipped. Trouble is, nothing else agrees with that. You guys are tight, wits quick, you mesh like a slick machine that’s been finely tuned by years of working together. I can’t believe where this is leading. If Ryan talks to people that aren’t there and everyone is sane, there are two options. First, I’m dreaming.” There was a quick motion under the table. “Ouch! Scratcheroonie on option one. Did you have to be so rough?” Marianne giggled.
Rachel said, “You think that’s rough? Are you in for an eye opener.”
“Anyway, am I to surmise that Boss is actually conversing with someone who has scored a granite headboard?”
No one said a word, but the pleased expressions all around were answer enough. “Hooooleeeee sh...” He was cut short by an expertly executed deposit of a stuffed mus
hroom into his mouth.
“They were getting cold, sweetie. Now, chew and listen.”
Ralph looked at Gustav, who was laughing and shaking his head. He got an answer to his unspoken question with a single word, “Sicilian.”
“Figrs,” he mumphed around a mouthful of mushroom.
Ryan began to speak and everyone paid respectful attention. “First of all, Ralph, I want you to work for me. I’ve discerned through unscrupulous means your annual income. I am doubling it while you remain under a one-month’s probationary period. If you perform as well as you have tonight, there will be a 20% raise, retroactive to the first day of employment.”
“You’re shitting me. Sorry, ladies, but the occasion called for it.”
“The work you will be doing involves a minimal degree of personal danger. You likely took greater risks from the strangers you ferried in your cab.” Ralph shot a look to Gustav. Gustav tried for ‘innocent’. “...though it does get a little exciting sometimes.”
Allen threw in, “Got that right.” The rest added their assents.
Gustav was bit by the analytical bug. “Ralph, you remind me of the type of person often used by police, a profiler. You would be very good at it. A profiler will develop a description of someone using very sketchy evidence.”
“I had thought about it, Gustav. Wrong job for me. First of all, I don’t like the clientele. Second, I’m mainly good with people that are present, not drawing a personality from evidence at a crime scene.”
Ryan cleared his throat. Translation: shut your traps and let Boss speak. “I can guarantee you that you will be doing things that will amaze your grandchildren, should you ever have any, or give them cause to have you committed. You’re over forty and your talents are not being used to their greatest potential. You are also probably ready for a change. If we’re wrong for each other, you can always go back to hacking. You have too good a reputation for your company not to grab you back in a New York heartbeat. Marianne? The second envelope, if you please. Ralph, that’s an advance.”
This time she took Ralph’s hand in hers, placed the envelope on his palm and squeezed his fingers shut before releasing her touch. Ralph’s heart rate increased for more than one reason. He knew now that they would not mind, so he peeked in the envelope at the check, then took a closer look at the numbers. “You’re not shitting me.”
“Ralph, if you would like to make me happy, hold the potty mouth until you’re out with just the guys, OK?”
Ralph sat there, the spinning roulette wheel in his mind slowing down, rigged for the ball to land right where Gustav knew it would. “Mind introducing me to Vanessa, now?”
Back up north…“So what’s your problem lady? Pull up a bed and tell Mamma Barbara all about it.”
“Barb, I wore clothes today that a week ago I wouldn’t have been caught dead in. I didn’t spend my usual forty-five minutes doing my hair or my other twenty for make-up. I’m wearing my sneaks, since it’s cold outside. So would you please explain why men are coming out of the woodwork after me? I’ve got so many lovesick puppies underfoot, I feel like I’m working at the SPCA.”
“So what’s new with that? You’ve been the hot ticket on campus for a year had a half, now, since you transferred in. Word’s out that Allen isn’t around, so that makes you primo shark bait.”
That’s just it. It isn’t the sharks. My old crowd has excommunicated me, and, you know what? They’re a bunch of stuck up, self-absorbed, dipsquats who walk around with their heads up their butts. The guys who approached me are nice, intelligent, caring, polite and honest. Where the hell were they all this time?”
“Melissa, time you learned that Barbies intimidate men, unless those men are so enamored with themselves that they feel they deserve nothing but the finest fluff. You stop dressing like a status trophy babe, you attract a different class of men. If you don’t like the people you used to hang with, just remember, you were one of them.”
“I was that shallow?”
“Bitch cubed arm candy.”
“So how come I had Allen? He’s one of the good guys.”
“Because you went out and stalked him, instead of the other way around. Your looks got you part of the way because he has a weak spot for centerfolds, but your attitude sank you in the long run. All it took was for him to get out of Dodge for a day or two and get perspective on things. Looks like you both grew up some.”
“Barb, would you mind mincing your words once in a while. Talking with you is like being hit by a truck.”
“Hey, what are real friends for? So, you going out with any of those guys you mentioned?”
“No, I’ve got to get my psych paper done. It’s worth a third of my grade and my average needs help big time.”
“Just asking. Got any phone numbers you don’t want?”
Melissa got up, leaving a pile of paper scraps with numbers on them on Barbara’s bed, and went to her room to study. She booted her PC and got to work (after taking her phone off line; it wouldn’t stop ringing). Two hours later, she leaned back, satisfied with the resulting paper that was being printed. She checked the icon bar.
There was one that was coded so that no one could possibly know what it meant and tied into a hidden password so no one could access it. She looked at it for a long time after the pages had finished stacking. The digit mouse was under her finger and she finally tapped it, put in the password (SNAAB) and up came the screen: NAVSTAR. Ten minutes later, she was looking up Milledgeville, GA, on the net atlas. Nothing of interest, as far as she could see. She checked the Milledgeville Chamber of Commerce web page. The main item on the agenda was some kind of Civil War re-enactment. Allen wasn’t hot on the Civil War. What was he doing there? Any other young lady would have cried over her loss and gone on with her life. Melissa was not any other young lady.
Melissa whispered, “You know, psych class was getting into military mind-sets. I’ll bet Professor Foy just might be convinced to give me a grade bump for some extra credit weekend work.”
She tapped the event icon of the web page and read about the Edwards Homestead, the re-creation societies and the calendar of events. There was ‘lodging information’ and, man! Not even a campsite was available for love or money within two hours drive. The whole city seemed involved in the affair. She thought, “It would be a bear to find a person in a mess like that. Then again, it wasn’t a bad setting for a person who didn’t want to be seen. Hmmm.”
The party had relocated to the suite. Coffee, one herb tea and dessert were ordered from room service. Everyone found a comfortable chair and settled down into little chatter groups. Allen was trying to convince his mother not to have the Homestead Main House nuked, that he felt confident things were going to work out all right and, at the first sign of trouble, they could pull the plug and launch plan B. Gustav was talking to Ryan about some of the minor remaining difficulties on the event logistics. Marianne was bringing Ralph up to speed, nutshell version, about Vanessa, the problem at the Edwards Homestead and what had happened to Allen. She had the additional difficulty of trying to explain the multiple ‘grands’ in Allen’s family tree. By this time, Ralph had pretty well suspended conventional realities and was ready to take on leprechauns and fairies as duty partners.
Ryan cleared his throat and began. “Vanessa has relayed some interesting new developments. Allen’s slave rebellion and frontal attack took Mad Annie both by storm and surprise. After the soldiers had passed though, she unloaded a lot of confusion and worry on Vanessa. Vanessa confirms that Annie’s personality was splintered by the combination rape and murder, together with the stresses of her husband and children having been killed. Personality schism is not new to us in this case. However, we appear to have underestimated the numbers. There is a third Annie.”
“There is - another - Skyyywalkerrr.”
Ryan cast a brief glance to the ceiling. “Give me strength.” The revelatio
n brought on a stir of conversation, back and forth looks and a few milder expletives, since it was mixed company. The last comment of Ryan’s was chalked up to yet another wisecrack from their unseen, unheard, but never-the-less beloved Vanessa.
“Nighttime Annie, as we know our favorite version, is calm, intelligent, aware, good hearted, but weak in the power department. Mad Annie has most of the power, and flies solo during ‘pre’ and ‘post soldier arrival’ daylight periods. There is a ‘monkey’ on Mad Annie’s back between those two times that is angry as hell and somehow controls Mad’s firepower. Mad Annie cannot come to grips with her own demise, despite admitting (temporarily) that everyone else she knows is deceased, including the soldiers, Vanessa and the children. The children’s death status, however, is an ‘on and off again’ basis. More often than not, she just believes they have either just gone to bed or have not awakened yet. That is highly selective denial and hallmarks her mental fragility and dysfunction. Monkey, which is the name I’ll use to describe the angrier Annie until someone else comes up with something better, is raging and unreasonable, yet more aware of what she is doing, but can be cowed as we have seen. She builds up her head of steam regardless of consequences till it climaxes from 5:07 to 5:11pm. Then, satisfied, turns off to enjoy the resonance of her deeds. That leaves Mad Annie, without the puppeteer manning the strings, to just stand there in her delusions and confusions until nightfall.
“Vanessa spoke to Mad Annie, who seemed fairly clueless on where the soldiers and her children actually go after the Union’s passage, though she recalled the phrase ‘in her apron pocket’, which came from Monkey. When quizzed closer, she couldn’t understand much of anything. Mad Annie was willing to (temporarily) accept that two centuries had passed since the first attack, and was vaguely aware of the ‘distance deaths’ of the Union soldiers and her role in that, and clearly confirmed details of Allen’s slave revolt to Vanessa. Mad Annie is a confused woman/child being manipulated and deceived, but still can perceive things in a limited capacity. Now for the clincher. ‘Our’ Annie, for the first time in two hundred years, saw the sunset, today!”
Pandemonium. Ralph sat back, taking it all in. This had to be the weirdest job he had ever taken on, and that says a lot, coming from a taxi driver. The kick of it was, he was really getting into it and felt the growing desire to become a part of Ryan’s machine.
“Vanessa figures that Annie is like any other multiple personality and resolution will come from re-unification. That will require therapy. Only Vanessa and myself can carry on any kind of conversation with any of the three Annies. I’m out of the question, as Mad Annie and Monkey hate me on sight. Vanessa is our only liaison. Rachel, I want you to update our research on putting splintered minds back together. I want to know about any new methods being used and how they are applied. Allen, you are the PC whiz kid. You assist her, tomorrow. I don’t feel like being the Lone Ranger, so I need a Tonto...”
Eyes shifted, two by two, to the most recent team addition. “Ralph, you should have no problem with a vehicle rated at only one horsepower. Now that we’re aware of what she can do, Vanessa will do her best to keep Monkey off our backs with distraction. Marianne, you will go to the Homestead. If Vanessa taps your right ear, use your SatCom speed connect to reach me. That will mean that there is a danger of Monkey making a second appearance and we will ride hell bent for leather out of there. Any questions? Good. Oh, Ralph, can you ride a horse? Forgot to ask.”
“I can hold my own, but it’s been a while. Sure, let’s give it a go.” He hadn’t been on a horse in twenty years, but didn’t want to appear a coward in Marianne’s eyes. He mumbled covertly, “What the heck, can’t be worse than driving a taxi with four screaming kids and two New Age parents.”
Now that things were calming back down (this was calm?) into subgroup chat, Ralph settled into observing. The biggest thing on the menu was Rachel’s skeptical looks and obvious worry about the welfare of her son. He asked Marianne why they should worry all that much about Monkey or Mad Annie when Allen was removed from the situation. Marianne filled in the blank spots concerning the Civil War raiding party death rate. “And Allen’s sticking with the program? The rug rat is braver than he looks. His mother must be a real trooper to keep herself as quiet as she has been about it. That's really gotta be hell on her insides.”
Marianne listened with one part of her mind, with another part thinking, “He’s a very sensitive and aware man. Didn’t know they made them like that anymore.”
“Ralph, how’s about you and me getting a nightcap? I’m tired, but wired. Then, I’m going to boot your butt home.”
“It’s a plan. I’ve had a pretty long day of it myself. Looks like tomorrow is going to be worth getting rested up for.”
They excused themselves from the group, which was winding down on plots and plans, anyway. There were two more days until Saturday. For the rest of the tourists, Sunday offered tours, period craft demonstrations, sheep shearing, cotton picking, cider making/buying and visits to the Civil War re-creationist encampment located on one of the southern acres of the property, where one could make candles, brooms, clay pots and other period bric-a-brac, for a price. The Fitzgalen family wasn’t interested in Sunday events.
Saturday headlined with the big battle, staged over five acres (with benches and bleachers all strategically located for the public). The last count had over three thousand, six hundred black-powder rifle-toting soldiers representing not only traditional Reb and Yank ground forces, but also members of the Buffalo Soldiers (a black regiment), elements of period Naval groups, medical personnel and even period photographers who not only role played as the first war correspondents that brought the ugliness of war to Joe Average, but doubled as purveyors of tin type souvenirs to be sold for a far heftier price than even two centuries of inflation could account for.
Ralph opened the door for Marianne. She liked that. Not all women did, but she thought it was sweet. Ralph was saying his goodbyes when he caught Gustav’s evil eye. The look told him a few things that didn’t need words. As he closed the suite door, he knew he had been clearly commanded to take very good care of the lady waiting at the elevator door, or else. Last time he saw a look like that, he made sure to get his seventeen-year-old date back by ten, despite her protests. It looked like Domo/Dad’s trust was something he would have to earn.
On the elevator ride down and at the bar, the couple had a lively chat about where they each had come from, jobs (with a few funny episodes from both sides to tell) and general small talk. He ordered a decaf, saying that he didn’t take a drop of booze if he was to be on the road within the next two hours, and that more caffeine would nix any sleep. That suited Marianne, though she ordered a house Chablis and nursed it while they continued finding out about each other. Ralph listened more than he spoke, since he was also interested in the other members of the team and Marianne was the one with the low down. The Chablis and coffee had been ‘freshened’ twice, when Marianne looked at the clock during a rare lull in the conversation.
“Midnight!? Ralph, no one has ever kept my attention that far away from the clock. At work, I’m the one that keeps everyone else on time and where they need to be. You may be a bad influence on me.”
“Thank you. I’ll try my best.” Ralph got up to pay the bar tab. He could certainly afford it, in light of the two checks stashed in his shirt pocket. Ralph escorted Marianne to the elevators, pushed the buttons and bid her goodnight without riding up with her. He thought he was doing the chivalrous thing and that she would be pleased. He was sort of right, sort of not.
Marianne walked into the suite. Gustav was walking to his room in his pajamas, but stopped to say good night to Marianne. She looked at him with narrowed eyes. “You evil-eyed him, didn’t you?” The ‘Who, me?’ look on his face didn’t fool anyone.
Ralph drove at a leisurely pace to his apartment just north of town. It was a nic
e complex that catered to single/childless people. There weren’t any kids running around. Not that he didn’t like kids, but they scared him in crowded areas. His younger brother had been backed over by a car in a parking lot. Thank Heaven he wasn’t killed, but he had permanently lost partial use of his legs. It had taken three years of physical therapy and reconstructive surgery to get even that much achieved. The Kithcarts didn’t believe in self-pity, so brother Ron made a good life for himself and his eventual family with an import/export business up north in Maryland. He could still bring to clear recollection Ron’s screams. Ralph tore up grass divots trying to get to his brother’s side and it made him sick to see the obvious crush injury to Ron’s pelvis, the blood and the look on Ron’s face that begged his brother to make it all better. It was odd that Ralph had later sought a job as a taxi driver, where he ran a higher risk of causing a similar happenstance because he drove for a living. Maybe he became a cabbie to face up to his fears, or maybe to become someone who would take the care needed to prevent another such calamity. Ralph was great at reading others, but lousy at reading himself.
He walked up to his second-floor apartment, unlocked the door and walked over to the fish tank. “Hello, Mako! Hey, guess what? Daddy’s going to change jobs, make a whole lot more green stuff. I can buy you that hundred-gallon condo I’ve been promising. Eat all your flake and we’ll talk about adding a boyfriend to that equation. Now don’t look at me like that. I know I’m late. Hey, cut me some slack. I’ll tell you about her, yes, there’s a her, in the morning. Hey, what time should I get there?” He had forgotten to ask, due to feminine distraction, not to mention all the other crazy things tonight. He went to the phone. Maybe it wasn’t too late to call. The screen showed stored messages from his father in Springfield, his brother in Maryland, the cab company (hoo boy, Mr. Pasternak is going to be pissed), and, “Hey!”
Ralph punched up the 4th message. “Hello Ralph. Thank you for your company tonight. I had a nice time and am looking forward to working with you. You have, by now, realized that no one told you what time to be here. Breakfast at the suite will be at eight sharp. Don’t be late. I’ll save you a couch seat. Your boss, Mr. Pasternak, will have left a message on your machine. Don’t panic. Ryan bought out your contract and your previous employer is just wishing you well and that you will be welcomed back should things not work out with us. His secretary will take care of feeding Mako over the weekend. Oh, and next time? Tell Gustav to stuff it. Sleep well, stud muffin.”
How in God’s name was he supposed to sleep well after a message like that? Crud! Well, one shouldn’t be in too much of a hurry. Women didn’t want to feel rushed into things and, after previous fiascos, neither did he. He crashed and burned with Mariki, then with Helga. Perhaps he’ll have better luck with the third member of the Axis. She even thought to have Mako taken care of? Whatta woman!
Vanessa told Ryan ‘good night’ and went back to see Annie. Neither of them slept and nights got lonely. Vanessa had Ryan to watch over and, though she didn’t mind being his guardian angel, talking with Annie beat snoring for content. They went over the conversations and happenings since early evening. Annie was especially interested in what might be a blossoming romance between Ralph and Marianne.
“She sounds like such a nice lady. Shame we can’t invite her for a chat. We hobgoblins suffer from one-way conversations, don’t we?”
“I guess I’m lucky there, with Ryan. But yes, you’re right. Sometimes I wish I could sleep again. Without you, nights are long and quiet, at least those that Ryan doesn’t have me searching out spook sites.”
“I sure can understand that. All those years before you came along, it got powerful tedious. I was so pleased for the help and encouragement you and your husband have given me. Say, what’s happening with that young one and his Yankee ding-a-ling back in school?”
In all the craziness, Vanessa had quite forgotten Melissa. “I don’t know. She may be history as far as all the others are concerned. I’m not so sure. Well, whatever happens, happens. Speaking of which, about tomorrow, here’s the plan. Allen will stay behind with his mother and Gustav. Ryan and Ralph will cheer on the men with a second showing of those pictures and will try to connect with Patterson. Marianne and I will be here. I’m going to try and distract you, over and above the hubbub of Friday events. If you get by me, I flick Marianne’s ear and she sends the fall back call to Ryan and Ralph. I’m going to see if I can lift up your children. I can touch them, but I don’t know if I can physically lift them. Annie, with your earlier arrival time yesterday, do you think you might be able to exert more influence on keeping your other selves from coming out?”
“Well, Dear, I’ll certainly give it a try. From what you say, it’s not Mad-Me that’s the problem, it’s Monkey-Me. My word, but it’s peculiar to talk about one’s self like that. But even if I can keep them bottled up all day, we still need them to raise the soldiers and my children.”
There was more girl talk for an hour or so, then they fell silent and listened to the crickets and the sound of the night breeze. Vanessa went back to an earlier topic in her mind. “Annie, Dear, will you excuse me for a moment? You got me to thinking about something and I have to check up on it. Be right back.”
“I’ll put on the pot.” It was one of their old jokes. Both agreed that the one thing their precious time spent together lacked was something hot to sip. Well, immortality has to have some drawbacks, they supposed. Both agreed that inability to touch the ones they loved, to share a simple caress, was a much bigger disadvantage. Annie loved to hear Vanessa tell stories of what little she could do. “Such an imp, that one. Sneaking up on her husband in the bathroom while he shaved and plucking a hair out of…there. Surprised that the poor man didn’t slash his throat.” But to even see her husband and talk to him. That, she was just short of jealous over. “Oh Archibald, I do miss you so. The Good Book says that our marriage ended when we died. Maybe so. I still miss you and want to see and hold you again.” Annie called out his name, as she had once done to summon him to meals when they were together. She listened, hoping that maybe this time her dear man would hear her across the gulf that separated them, that maybe he might be able to call across just loud enough for her to hear the whisper of his answer. “Damn crickets are drowning you out, Honey. Try again later, won’t you? Until then, all my love to you, my husband.”
A half a minute later, Vanessa returned with a most sly smile on her face. “Well don’t just stand there with your snake smirk. What did you do, or see, or whatever?”
“I stopped in to visit with Melissa Banks. Thought she might have hit the hay by now but she was up, get this, doing homework! I think she’s turned herself around, Annie. Now, that’s not all. She put that picture of Allen next to her bed. She hasn’t given up on him. This is going to be fun.”
“I don’t understand what you mean. She’s up there, he’s down here. What’s so fun about that?”
“Oh, sorry, forgot a detail. On her bed was an open backpack with clothes in it and what looks like an airline ticket next to it. Now, where do you suppose she might be thinking of going? Would it be with another man, when Allen’s picture is next to her bed? I don’t think so.”
“You might just have something there, Dear. But, with all that’s going to be happening in the next two days, are you sure it’s wise for Allen to have a big distraction like this?”
“Ooof! You’re right. I’ll go back and hide the ticket. No, that won’t stop her. She’ll just have another re-issued and put a cancel on this one. Phooey! I’m not sure what to do.”
“Don’t do anything, Dear”
“Huh? Annie, what you just said before...”
“I know, I know. But things happen for a reason. This mess has been around a long time and I think He’s going to take advantage of that to kill a whole flock of birds with one stone, if you get my meanin
g.”
“Annie, Honey, looking at what’s happened to you, those men and your children, it’s hard for me to believe He’s watching out for us at all.”
“Patience, Vanessa, patience. He took good care of those children in Selma, yes? He’s working on it.”
Vanessa hoped so, but still was not convinced. It was the old ‘why do bad things happen to good people’ beast that everyone wrestles with in their lifetimes, and sometimes well after that.
Vanessa Page 21