Vanessa

by David Howells

Chapter 24 – RESURRECTION

  Vanessa and Annie had reached the road. Annie had never strayed that far in this direction before and was nervous. The hand she held was the only thing that kept her from making a beeline back to the safety and familiarity of the porch. Well, maybe not the only thing.

  “Vanessa, I can sense her. She’s down deep inside me. I can catch her muttering, sometimes, and the words aren’t very nice at all. Suppose, without my Mad self, my Monkey self might just pop up anytime. You aren’t safe. You had better go.”

  “Sorry lady, you’re stuck with me and, unless you want North fighting South again, you’ll stop thinking like that and help me. I love you dearly, but I can’t do this without you and you need my support. Now, are you with me?”

  “I’m still here, aren’t I?” They started walking, but Annie stopped. “Why aren’t I crossing over? I’m leaving the house, aren’t I?”

  Vanessa was taken aback. Cross-over hadn’t even entered her mind, and it should have. Or should it have? “Annie, we’re going north. We’ve found that the eastern direction has a lot to do with crossing over. Monkey keeps stopping the soldiers riding to the east. I’ll bet that’s the way all of you have to go.”

  Their steps started again. It got easier, the further away they got from the house. Vanessa smiled to think she might open up an afterlife travel agency some day. ‘Come let us spirit you away’ would be the slogan. She normally would pass a good one like that on her friends, but one look at Annie kept her mouth shut. This wasn’t the time for that and this wasn’t the person for that, either. It surprised her to think that there would be a time when she would refrain from a wisecrack. Ryan would be shocked. It would be best not to tell him. She would swear Annie to secrecy, once this was over.

  They had reached the apron where the slave shacks used to stand. Annie looked around, remembering that Archibald had told her about his life on the farm when he was a boy. His father wasn’t as kind to the slaves as they were. Her beloved had sworn an oath to make life better for their slaves when he came into his own. The two of them went even further in making the shacks into cabins with fireplaces inside and gave their slaves time off from farm duties so that they could work on their own homes and gardens. Yet, they still left her when push came to shove.

  Monkey couldn’t understand that. Annie could. She had been held down by oppressive force for too long not to understand. She regretted her participation in the enslaving of those poor people and hoped they might forgive her, but she didn’t count on it. They continued into the pocket.

  The pocket had trees in it, though it was not nearly as thick with them as the surrounding woods. The Homestead people were making efforts to clear it out, to make it like it once was. They walked along a cleared path, wide enough for two to walk abreast. After a hundred yards, there was an opening. There were large piles of brush and stacked wood over on the northeast corner. The remaining stumps were the only things that remotely looked graveyard-ish.

  Annie spoke, respectfully. “They always buried their dead with their heads to the west, feet to the east. I remember them saying that when the Day of Judgment came, it would come from the east and they wanted to rise up and face God from the moment they awakened. What you said earlier about God coming from the east for His Second Coming. Maybe we re supposed to meet him halfway?”

  This was no time for Gustavian esoterica. They had limited time to act. “Are any of the slave spirits still around?”

  Annie closed her eyes and sensed for those ancient connections. “No, that cupboard is bare. Thank God. ”

  Vanessa looked deeply at her friend and smiled. “Looks like us old dogs can learn new tricks. I’m proud of you, Soul Sister.”

  “Thank you, Dear. Now, let’s go man haunting.” Vanessa laughed to think that she was worried about using humor on Annie. Well, scratch that one. She went ahead and told her about the proposed travel agency, and was rewarded with a Southern belle ladylike chuckle. Then, it was down to business. They were at the pocket, but how did one reach into the pocket?

  “See what you can sense, Annie. I’ll wait for you.”

  Vanessa let go of Annie’s hand, so as not to distract her with her own energies, and backed away about twenty feet. Annie closed her eyes and pictured the graveyard as it once was, when she and Archibald attended each slave interment. She could clearly see the many wooden crosses, a name and year lovingly carved into each one. Once all the details were firm, she reached out with her mind and felt what was there now. Right away, she sensed a difference. The ground was troubled. Things sort of swirled about under the surface. She could feel it, now that she had it tuned in. Annie opened her eyes, but the feeling remained and she was now more able to sense the discreteness of the disturbances. There were many of them.

  “Vanessa, I found them.”

  Vanessa walked slowly up to Annie, but no distraction resulted in Annie’s ability to sense the spirits of the Union Army. “What can you feel, Annie?”

  “They’re down there, kind of drifting. They’re still connected to their horses, I think. Vanessa, what do I do now?”

  “Honey, I don’t know. You can sense them, OK, let’s work with that. What do you want to do, instinctively?”

  “I want to reach out and heal them, to pull them out of the grave. But how?”

  “Your other self didn’t have directions on how to do it, she just did it because it was what she wanted to do. Don’t think of how. Forget that completely. Think of it as just having been done. Maybe that way you’ll naturally find the way that’s inside you.”

  Annie took a non-existent breath and began to search. They were all swirly sworly, yet distinct. She latched onto one set and focused on it, reached out to it and visualized horse and rider above ground, together but no longer connected. It took over twenty minutes of trial and error, and error, and more error, but then Vanessa saw it. Over the ground there were colors slowly coalescing, tiny sparkling motes that built themselves up, little by little. The form of a man on a horse became increasingly recognizable. It took another ten minutes and Annie nearly collapsed from the effort. Vanessa supported her and both of them looked at one surprised Union soldier.

  Vanessa approached the soldier, as she was less likely to frighten the ‘no-longer-living-daylights’ out of him. “What’s your name, soldier?”

  “Private Cole Dixon, ma’am. Are you two angels?”

  Annie and Vanessa looked at each other. Annie said, “Working on it, Private Dixon.”

  “Holy Mother of God! You, You’re Mrs. Edwards!” Private Cole Dixon reined back his mount, fearing the worst, but the difference in setting and the full responsiveness of his horse gave him pause enough for him to shake his head and forgo his flight. Private Dixon turned Challenger back and he looked again at the two women. There was nothing coming from either of them that evoked danger. He looked up to the sky, then back to Vanessa. “Where’s the sun?”

  ‘The sun doesn’t come out at night, Private.”

  “Neither do I, ma’am, as a rule. Mrs. Edwards, I know you by sight. You must be Vanessa, ma’am. Ryan told us about you and I’ve seen you a few times at the farm.” It hit him. “Good Lord! Am I...free?”

  Annie spoke, now recovering her energy levels. “Private Dixon, I think so. All you need do is to ride in the direction your group tries to go in each day. I won’t be there to stop you this time.”

  It was too good to be true. “Mrs. Edwards, Vanessa, ma’am, would you please tell me where the other men are? I can’t leave them behind without Major Covington giving the order. Rules are rules and I’ve been in the Army longer than most.”

  “You may choose to wait there. I am going to try and bring up more of your fellow soldiers. I’m not the same woman you saw before. That spirit is inside of me, but she’s sleeping right now. If you stay, I can’t guarantee she won’t wake up and put you right back down there
until tomorrow, or forever.” Annie pointed to the ground where she had found the Private. He followed her finger to look at the ground, then at Annie, then east to where he could just ride off and free himself from Hell. He shook his head.

  “Thank you kindly, ma’am, but I’ll just wait here. I’m as attached to my unit as I am to my saddle.” To demonstrate his point, he tried to lift himself a little off of the saddle, gently. To Private Cole Dixon’s amazement, he lifted clear off the saddle with no pain, no restriction. “Merciful Jesus!”

  Vanessa smiled at the wide-eyed and very pleased Union man. “Private Cole, perhaps you might be of some help. I’m assigning you the task of filling in those who we are able to bring up tonight. You may be the only one, or we may get them all. Annie, it’s up to you now.”

  Mrs. Anita Edwards nodded and began the process again. She found one within a minute, but wasn’t able to hook onto him. She tried another and was successful. It took fifteen minutes this time to raise one young man with a moustache and his mount.

  Private Dixon rode up to him. “Artemus, my old friend. Come with me over here out of the way.”

  Private Artemus Benson latched onto the only reality he could and that was the man who rode by him for centuries. Everything else was completely alien to him, except her. “Cole, it’s that devil...”

  “Hush your mouth, Private. It ain’t her. Well, it is, but it ain’t. Look, I’ll explain what little I know. It looks like there’s more than one Mrs. Edwards and they both or all live in that lady you see there. I guess the bad one comes out in the daytime and this one shows up at night.”

  “I thought demons came out at night. So, what kept the good one all this time?”

  “Ain’t figured that out yet, but you want to complain? We’re out, ain’t we? How long has it been since you seen stars or heard crickets?”

  Private Benson looked to the sky and, for once, the cursed sun was gone. Only those pinpricks of gentle light that he had recalled only in dim memories. The sounds of the crickets were the sweet music of a time when he had a family, a cause to fight for and a belly to put food into. He looked at the woman he had heard Ryan tell about and they had seen near the children at the farm. She was beautiful at night, like his Emily was. He looked down at his horse, Willamena. For once, she was standing stock-still and not under another’s control. Finally he turned his gaze to the woman that had held them prisoner for so long, who had cursed each of them, who the Major had wracked his brains on how to defeat. They were supposed to be friends now? His friend was asking for a lot from him, but this was the friend who had once pulled him off the field under a hail of lead balls and cannon shell fragments and got him to the Doc who saved his leg. So he waited, and was rewarded for his wait with a vision of a miracle. “Well bless me, isn’t that Harry Quimby?”

  “Looks like it. Tell you something else to make you smile, old buddy. Lift yourself off the saddle.”

  Artemus was about to tell his life-and-death long friend where to stick it, but there were just too many things gone loco that he was trying to accept as real. So, he tried it and nearly split his face with the smile at the result.

  Private Harry Quimby was directed to his two comrades waiting at the southeast corner of the graveyard. He dumbly followed Vanessa’s instructions and stopped to witness the two buffoonish grins on his friends as they both dismounted. “Great Day in the Morning, don’t that hurt?”

  Cole said, “Ain’t it time you gave Cherokee a break from your fat butt? Come on down, Harry. The water’s just fine.”

  The night wore on and the fainter stars to the east began to fade from sight. Annie was nearly spent. Corporal Marion Clemente was the ranking Union man among the thirty-two brought out of their prison. That left eighteen riders still down there. Vanessa and Annie couldn’t take the chance on losing what they had worked for all night.

  Annie Edwards gasped out, “Corporal Clemente, you must take your men and ride out. If my other self awakes, all of our work will be for naught. I will try and bring up more, once I get my strength back, but you must leave, NOW.”

  The Corporal nodded to his former nemesis. “Mrs. Edwards, one brief moment. We are all very sorry for the loss of your children’s lives and yours. Before we go, I would ask your forgiveness for me and the men.”

  Annie had to lean on Vanessa, who had put her own arm around Annie’s waist to support her spent Soul Sister. “Corporal, I forgive you for everything you did only if you make two concessions.”

  The Corporal nodded. “One, you have to forgive me for the hell my other self has put you and your poor men through for so many years.” Every man assented. “Second, you will get your damned ugly blue butts back on your glue factory nags and ride off my property without another word!”

  Without so much as a peep, each man mounted and lined up. Corporal Clemente rode his mount in front of Annie and Vanessa, saluting as he passed. Each man followed suit, columns of two, parade-dress-right with gratitude in their eyes. The column silently went out of the graveyard to the road, turned column east and trotted happily, for once, towards where the sun would soon crest. Not one of them ever saw the sunrise.

  “It’s getting on, Vanessa. I’m so tired, but I want to try for one more. Maybe if I can exhaust myself totally, it will be easier for you to deal with ‘Monkey-Me’.” Vanessa had coined that phrase earlier, harking back to an old movie and its sequel. Annie took to it. There was sort of a child-like nature to it for Annie, and it was kind of fun to say. There was still a bit of the little girl in her; one of the things that Vanessa found so endearing.

  “You’ll have to hold me on this one. I can barely stand.” Annie found one more. She was getting better at it. They had thought of just doing it this way, but time was not on their side and neither of them had the heart to tell the children that they had to die yet another time past the promised day of freedom. The brighter stars were just barely visible to Vanessa and the birds were beginning to sing sweetly. The sound encouraged Annie to give it her all and the form took shape.

  “Oh ..my..God,” said Vanessa, as Annie slumped over. The mad Private was staring right at them.

  Morning. Ryan had slept poorly, worried about Vanessa and Annie. His dear one had never returned home, as far as he could tell. It was too late to worry about that. His feet hit the deck and, without hesitation, he went for a three-minute shower. His clothes were displayed on a hanger and Ryan put them on with a purpose. Twelve minutes after his alarm went off, Ryan David Fitzgalen walked out to the common room where others were gathering. Allen, Gustav, and Ralph were all latching the last buttons and pulling on their boots.

  The ladies ooo’d and ahhh’d and insisted they all line up for a picture. Allen’s PC had the best setup and, in five minutes, they were done, filling their plates and looking over the print-outs of the men in Union blue standing with their ladies fair.

  The ladies looked grand themselves in petticoats and bonnets; Southern Belles, all. After a few curtsies, bows and parasol shoulder-taps, the entourage left the common room. No one was to be left behind today.

  Morning. Melissa had picked up a new SatCom and downloaded the spec’s and data still stored in her desk PC. There weren’t any hotel rooms available within a reasonable distance, so she had opted for an early bird to Savannah. The only transportation available from the airport to the Homestead were the bus lines, and there were lines for even that despite the beefed up bus numbers to accommodate the crowds.

  A motorcycle gang had parked in the terminal lot to bless the johns one more time before heading west. One of them caught sight of Melissa. Actually, they all caught sight of her, but he was the only one that had the nerve to approach a looker like that. Barry was like that and, fortunately, he didn’t seem to mind rejections. To their unbelieving eyes, Barry was now walking back with a new Harley Babe. Many cursed under their breaths for not having tried for her themselves. Th
ey had a code that kept them from babe-thievery. The man who had her, kept her, until he no longer wanted her. Then the babe went back on the commodity exchange.

  Melissa didn’t like the looks of the geek that walked up to her, but the invitation for immediate transport to the exact place she wanted to go was irresistible. Barry, however, was very resistible.

  The pack took off, with less than pleased men comparing the new chick to their own partners, and more displeased women whose leather didn’t hid their broad family backgrounds well enough. The men thought, “Why is it that the ones in the biker magazines almost never quite looked like the ones in real life? And how come our resident screwball now had a chick that could have come off a mag cover, were she willing to change into something a bit skimpier?”

  Melissa wore a helmet that Barry had bought two years ago for just such an occasion. She sniffed it before putting it on, not wanting to guess what might have lived on the heads of previous users. She was surprised to find that it smelled like it had never been worn. Barry turned and smiled at her, telling her to hang on to his belly, tight! She wasn’t surprised, anymore.

  As the pack rode west down the Interstate, Melissa tasted what it was that attracted people to riding on two over-powered gyroscopes. There was a freedom sensation that enclosed metal and glass packages of humanity couldn’t experience. Although Harleys didn’t roar like lions as they used to, manufacturers made sure that at least their products didn’t purr like kittens. She looked at the leader of the pack. He had to be the leader, guessing by the size of him.

  “What’s his name?” she yelled into Barry’s ear, pointing to the moose in the lead.

  “Hammer.” Seemed like a silly macho name to her. Well, after this trip was history, so were all of these losers. She planned never to lay eyes on them again.

  “How did he hurt his face?” The giant had a bandage that hid what little skin his facial hair had left exposed.

  “Tried to pick up Spic Chick and her Blondie friend at a bar. Spic turned black belt on him.” Melissa thought it served the ogre right. You hang around bars, you get into trouble.

  Morning. Private Jed Patterson rode slowly up to Vanessa and Annie. He stopped halfway and shook his head to clear it. Jed looked around and saw that this was not what always was. That shook him. Then, something didn’t feel right, or wrong, depending on how you looked at it. He rose up in the saddle, pain free, then looked back to the women. There she was, helpless and powerless. Here he was, free and powerful.

  The time had come to settle scores. Jed nudged his mount forward again, never taking his eyes off his goal. The coal black horse stopped five feet from the terrified woman.

  “May I be of some service, Mrs. Fitzgalen, ma’am?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’re Ryan’s lady. He’s been wonderful good to us. Showed me pictures of my kin, told us all about Mrs. Edwards. I got a debt to square with that woman. What do you want me to do?”

  She looked at the man, then at the form at her side that had nothing and no one functioning, at the moment. The sun was due up at any second. Spirit form or not, Annie was feeling heavy. Actually, Annie’s depleted energy state was seeking alternative sources for renewal, and Vanessa happened to be a handy source of force.

  “Private Patterson?” He nodded. “Would you be so kind as to ferry my dearest friend back to the porch?”

  “It will be my honor.” He dismounted; pleased at the difference from the last time he had tried that task. “You first, ma’am. I’ll lift her up to you.”

  Vanessa approached Coaljack. The animal was huge! She had never gone horseback riding. Her mother had thought it very unladylike. Recalling how others she had seen would mount such a beast, she had to almost shove her knee into her chin to get her foot up high enough to reach the stirrup. Jed was holding Annie with one arm and wanted to help Vanessa with the other. He just couldn’t figure out how to do it and not embarrass himself. Not to mention Mrs. Fitzgalen. With several bounces and a grunt or two, she made it. Now, she could sit on the horse as if she was a little girl at the county fair again. “What is it that makes ectoplasmic equines so solid?” she thought. The view from the height of Coaljack’s back was dizzying. “Private, how did you avoid getting smacked by tree branches?”

  “I didn’t always miss them, ma‘am. Kind of an occupational hazard. They don’t bother me so much, now.”

  Vanessa had to forgo the ladylike sidesaddle riding posture if she was to keep herself and Annie from going ‘arse over teakettle’ (Jed respectfully turned his head away as Vanessa negotiated the pommel and Coaljack’s neck with her left leg). Jed effortlessly raised Annie into Vanessa’s arms. He shortened the stirrups to fit a woman’s stature, took the reins in his hand and walked out of the graveyard, after asking which way to go.

  Vanessa thought, “A man who asks directions. Ryan could learn something from this fellow. He was able to hold Annie. All those years of conflict between them. Is that why they can touch each other? If that was true, why couldn’t Ryan and she share more substance between them? The rules were different between two spirits than between a spirit and a mortal it would seem.”

  Sitting on the horse, holding Annie was more manageable. That gave Vanessa more freedom to speak to the Private, and she had to do just that. Once again, it was a whole new ballgame.

  “Private Patterson, forgive my asking, but why didn’t you attack Annie? I’m very happy you didn’t, mind you, but I need to know who our friends are today.”

  “Ma’am,” said Jed as he walked his horse and burden to the Homestead’s main road. “…I recollect a story I heard once in Sunday school, when I was a boy. There was this man named Saul and he gave the Christians a pretty hard time of it. He was kind of angry and off his nut, like me, when you get down to it. The Man Upstairs met him going down the road and got his attention. My Pastor named it the ‘call of the two-by-four.’ Most of us don’t hear Him all too good, so he has to get our attention the hard way. Saul was blinded and he had to learn to see again and, this time, he saw things different like. Your man, Ryan? He was my wake up call. This whole mess is my fault, when you get down to it. Maybe Mrs. Edwards would have forgiven us the loss of her children. God knows too many of them died in the war. But what I did, well, I need a whole lot of pardon. Time I started earning it. What do you want me to do?”

  The sun was going to be up any moment. She just didn’t know what was going to happen. Too much had changed since plans were made yesterday. She had to get word to Ryan, she had to stick with Annie and she had to somehow make use of Jed as planned, but no longer in the way that they had planned. This was no time for mental constipation. Like Ryan said so many times, even a bad plan was better than no plan. They arrived at the porch.

  “Jed, help Annie down. I may have only moments left before Annie’s angry self rises again. This one’s too tired to raise any more of your soldiers.” Jed carefully took Annie from Vanessa and brought her gently onto one of the porch chairs. Vanessa managed to slide down Coaljack’s side. The warhorse turned his huge head around, looked at the lady who rode him just now and approved. He nuzzled Vanessa as she walked by, though his idea of ‘gentle’ knocked Vanessa off to the side by several feet. Jed looked upset.

  “Mrs. Fitzgalen, ma’am, I’m so sorry! COALJACK! What you be thinking? What? Wait a minute. She raised others? You mean, besides me?”

  “Private, it’s all right. I just didn’t expect it, that’s all.” Vanessa approached Coaljack and petted his muzzle. The nicker she was rewarded with sent a pleasant chill up her back. “There are only seventeen more in the ground back there. That’s where she was keeping you all. Your Major is still there, and so is Private Cooper. Corporal Clemente took off with the rest and, as far as I can see, they’re gone for good. If you go east, you’ll leave as well. Go back to where the graveyard is, but don’t stay in it. Move off to whe
re you can see. If Annie raises the men, I’ll get back to you afterwards. You have to pick up the children and get them to safety by riding them east. I’ll hand them off to you if I can. If I have to confront Annie, it’ll be up to you to get them yourself. The other men will do what they can to divert Annie’s attention from you, Jason and Rebecca until you’re clear. Don’t stop for anything. Annie is powerful and I don’t know how long we can hold her back. There’s going to be a lot of activity here, a lot of confusion. You have to stay focused on your task. Can you do all that?”

  “Will she forgive me if I do?”

  “Guaranteed, soldier.”

  Jed got back on his horse and gave a smart two-fingered salute to Vanessa and cast one last look at Annie, now flopped over on one of the front porch chairs. Coaljack seemed a little annoyed at going back to the old burden. He preferred the lighter one. Jed reined hard left and galloped for the tree line. Vanessa watched him disappear into the forest. The sun peaked over the hills. Annie moaned. Vanessa rushed to her side and helped her up into a sitting position. Annie opened her eyes and removed any doubt in Vanessa’s mind as to which ‘Annie’ was up and running.

  Three of the four new recruits into the Union Army took a limo to the stables. Gustav was to take Ralph’s precious taxi from the stables to the reserved lot at the Homestead. Ralph looked pretty uncomfortable about someone else handling his baby and began telling Gustav the idiosyncrasies the Green Machine was known for (Allen had coined the phrase, Ralph thought it was catchy).

  “Back off, hot shot. I’ve been driving since before you were a gleam in your father’s eye.” Gustav shut the door and made to drive off.

  “Who told you about my father’s sloppy tooth-brushing habits?” Ralph fired back as his best mechanical friend, gently, pulled out without him. He heard the women break up on that one, which helped ease his troubled heart.

  Before they were out of earshot, he heard Gustav raise his voice above the din and say, “It wasn’t THAT funny!”

  Ryan and Allen stood next to their new member, each with a hand on his shoulder. “Good one, Ralph. Mom liked that one. So did Marianne. I didn’t get it.”

  “Yeah, Ralph. Take it from someone who’s been there. You get to a man’s heart through his stomach and his eyes. For a woman, it’s the funny bone. Allen, Gleem was a toothpaste brand that went by the wayside a few years after you were born.”

  Ralph smiled. He was good at keeping them laughing and he had the tip-generated savings account to prove it. One man he once ferried owned a nightclub and had made him a generous offer. He turned it down. Ralph’s forte was an audience of one to four, not in facing a large group where he had to compete with prowling wolves, belches and clinking glasses. They got into the limo. Allen and Ryan noticed that Ralph preferred to be in control of the car he was in. Well, he’d have to get used to riding instead of driving once in a while.

  It only took fifteen minutes to get to the stables. Three horses were already saddled, cinched and bridled, thanks to mega-manager Marianne. She had left specific orders from Ryan as to which horses to have ready. They had to have every ace in the hole they could muster for today. There were just too many unknowns on this one despite the long preparations that had gone on before.

  Ryan got his favorite: Maribelle. He had grown accustomed to her gait, and she to his pocketful of carrots. Allen was happy to let Ralph take the steed with the stupid name. The new horse that awaited him was promised to be ‘like riding on air’. That suited him just fine. His butt was still a little sore from the last couple of rides. Besides, his filly had a cooler name: ‘Thunder’.

  The three Blue Bellies, as the attendants jokingly called them, headed down the path. The order was Ryan first, Ralph second, Allen last. Ryan took great pains to look serious, just before heading out, while explaining the necessity for the line-up. Ryan was in front to keep a sharp eye out for an approaching Monkey. Ralph was new to Monkey, and so provided a buffer of unfamiliarity to further protect Allen. Ryan said that Allen may attract a new connect with Monkey, since she may be drawn to a repeat customer, and since Ryan’s idea that Monkey could no longer connect to mortals was not guaranteed. That was sufficient for Allen to accept a day of staring at two horse’s tails. Ryan had not told Allen how Thunder got her name. He found that out, soon enough.

  “KEEEERISTE, what do they feed this nag?” he moaned, as Thunder putt-putted down the path. Ralph had been let in on the secret earlier on when Allen was visiting the john. Allen saw two sets of shoulders bobbing up and down more than could be explained by their mounts’ walking rhythms. “Looks like I’ll be staring at four horse’s tails today,” Allen muttered, though he was having a hard time to keep from cracking up himself. In fact, conversation was nearly impossible until they finally reached their rendezvous point. One of them would be halfway through a sentence and Thunder would put in her two scents worth. Halfway there, the three of them were having trouble seeing the path clearly for all the tear wiping.

  “RYAN, WHY!?” Allen had managed to get out a two-word sentence before Thunder realized it was her cue again.

  It was a full minute before Ryan was able to fire back, before Thunder back-fired, “Annie hates laughing soldiers.”

  “Ralph, trade?”

  “NO WAY! Stay downwind!”

  “Vanessa, Dearie, what brings you here so early?”

  Suspicion was clearly in her eyes. “Well,” Vanessa thought, “..here goes.” She would have to use every half-truth and misdirection device ever used in her less scrupulous moments.

  “Why, Annie, Honey, I wanted to be the first to tell you the wonderful news. The war is over!”

  The look on Monkey’s face was one for the books. “What do you mean, the war is over?”

  “Why, Dearie, which part of that sentence did you not understand? The war has ended! Lee and Grant should arrive to your very own home to sign the treaty. Just look around you!”

  Monkey did just that, mouth open in case something decided to come out. If yesterday was busy, today was frantic. People were everywhere, and almost all of them dressed normal, like she used to know. Vanessa pointed her in the direction where there was a group of people dressed as Union soldiery. The Southern spirit almost jumped out of the skin she no longer had when she saw another group walking towards them, in Confederate gray! Surely there was going to be a battle right then, but the men of the two sides greeted each other like old friends and began shaking hands. “Oh, my stars!”

  How could this possibly be? Monkey knew that the war had been over for a long time, a very long time, but here were men and women in numbers far, far in excess of anything she had seen before, dressed in her time frame. To do that would take far more funds than that bastard Ryan was capable of. The war had to be over; it WAS over. But she couldn’t deny what was before her eyes. But, but, but.

  Vanessa watched very carefully. At least this part of the battle plan was working. Monkey was floored. She had to beat a hasty retreat and get word to Ryan.

  “Annie, Honey, I’ve got to visit the powder room. I’ll be back in just a bitsy. Why don’t you just set yourself down on this here chair? You look a little tired. Didn’t you sleep well last night?”

  “Didn’t I?” To herself: “I actually DO feel tired. How can that be? And what’s going on with all these people? I’m so confused. Could it be me who is mad? Was it all a dream? A nightmare?”

  To Vanessa: “Yes, Dearie, I’ll do just that. You run along. There is so much to, do? (Do what? What do I do now? It’s too early to raise the Union swine, or get Jason and Rebecca up. Nothing to do but watch and rest, I guess.)”

  Vanessa strolled out of sight and then made a beeline for where she sensed Ryan was. There, next to Ralph and Allen. “(Oh Lord, he gave him Thunder.) Ryan, I’ve got to tell you something!”

  As usual, the men waited while their leader engaged in conversatio
n with the unseen. Ralph leaned back and whispered to Allen, “How long until you get over the feeling that this is all one big wool-puller?”

  Allen saw that Ryan had picked up on the whisper. Allen backed his horse further away. “You’ll be sooooorrreeeee”, he sang, as the distance grew greater between them.

  Ralph saw Ryan tilt his head towards him. The next thing he knew, his right rear cheek suffered a significant pinch pain. “Yeeeoow- www! OK, OK! I guess it’s for real, already.” It must not have sounded sincere enough, because Ralph involuntarily turned the other cheek to similar fate. “AIIIIEEE! Hallelujah and Saints be praised! I believe!!! Man, that’s going to be bruised for sure.”

  Allen sidled back up to standard following distance from Ralph, who was now trying to find a more comfortable position on the saddle. “Been there, done that, got the T-shirt, travel mug, key chain and baseball cap.”

  By then, Ryan had finished his conversation with the Dober-woman Pincher. “Funny you should mention baseball, Allen.”

  “Don’t tell me. New ballgame?”

  “Big time. Let’s go over the new line-up. Oh, Ralph, did we learn our lesson today about lady spooks?”

  “I already knew where the female of the species caused pain, but Vanessa perfected the art for sure. Sparky spook, isn’t she?” Ralph asked Ryan.

  “You have no idea.”

  It was time to pull the rats out of their holes. Monkey reached out to the Graveyard, to her ‘apron pocket’. She was still short her mad counterpart and still pretty upset about it. She was in the middle of what appeared to be a peace negotiation between the North and the South that couldn’t be and she was upset about that, too. In less than a minute, there was something that topped the other two, put together.

  Mad Annie reached out and down, expecting fifty men plus nags and found fewer, far fewer. Carefully, her mind probed the yard, then beyond the yard. Fortunately for Jed, her attention was below the ground. He could feel her searching energies under his feet (he had been enjoying the incredibly exciting pass-time of standing on the ground next to his horse for a change and, to be fair, Coaljack wasn’t minding the break in the least). Jed froze, lest his movement attract unwanted attention. He didn’t even dare think, forcing himself to look at the world from the perspective of a six-foot-three-inch blue-jacketed rock.

  Frustration for Monkey was nearing the ignition point, but she knew that blowing up wouldn’t accomplish anything and so forced herself to calm down. The only thing to do was send the rats she could find on their way and worry about the rest later.

  Major Covington opened his eyes, as usual, to the place he always saw on awakening. It was all the same and he sighed because of it, but halfway through the sigh he stopped. He quickly counted heads as sixteen of his surprised Union soldiers were going through the same reaction and action. Heads were turning back and forth while fingers pointed, accompanied by a muttered medley of numbers ranging from one to sixteen, with the occasional “…and me!” thrown in.

  Annie could still reach out to feel those soldiers, their formation, their surprise, and their great joy. “Bastards are probably yelling their heads off.” She wished she could make their horses trot again to inflict more suffering for the fewer in number, but they were back on the correct time schedule. A faster pace would bring them to the Estate too early. How could this have happened? She was the only one with the power and the knowledge to use it. Vanessa? No, she didn’t have the power or the skill. She felt sure of that, somehow. Who then, or what? Maybe, in all the hullabaloo, she accidentally destroyed two thirds of her prisoners? Now there was a pleasant thought. Well, better to focus on what she had to work with than worry about spilt milk.

  Melissa was beginning to enjoy the trip. These guys weren’t all that bad. She sensed a commonality among them that was enjoyable and friendly. They were a bit rough around the edges, but she had seen worse at RPI frat parties. “How come you guys got up so early?” she called into Barry’s ear.

  “The pack wanted to scram before the motel knew we were gone. I don’t like that sort of thing, but I’m not the leader. We’ll slip into the Milledgeville crowds. No one is going to trace us there!”

  Of course, she could be wrong. The geeks. Then she realized that if they were caught, she would be part of the group. “What would daddy say?” came to mind, as the ‘oh, shit’ factor kicked in.

  She thought about options, which were slim. “Not a good idea to bail on Barry at this speed. Have to get to that Homestead thing. I feel it. Something’s wrong, besides Barry’s need for a breath mint. What would Barbara think of me now? Biker Babe Barbie, S&M accessories sold separately! Try saying that five times fast.”

  “Barry, how long till we get to Milledgeville?”

  “At this rate, one hour, fifty three minutes.”

  Her eyes went to the blue, partly cloudy skies. “Great, a savant.”

  The gates would open in fifteen minutes. Already busses filled up their reserved spaces. There were groups from thirty-nine states and individuals from all but one of the rest. Alaska was not represented, for some reason, but having tourists from twenty-one different countries made up for the forty-ninth state’s absence.

  Gustav and Allen had reviewed the groups. Many were retirement clubs. There was a fair sprinkling of Civil War buff clubs. A lot of schools had baked a lot of cookies, sold a lot of candy, washed a lot of cars and heaven knows what else school kids did nowadays to raise money for trips. Luckily, matching funds were often available, since this was a lot more educational than a theme park.

  Theme parks knew their stuff, though, and the management of the Edwards’ Homestead was not above taking lessons. Parks were penultimate people pleasers, feeders and movers. Gustav strolled about with the ladies at his arms, telling them about some of the tricks of the trade. A park might hire athletic ex-cons to watch the parking lot for bobbing heads. That would be a daddy, disbelieving that he had just locked his keys in the car while Mom and kids would wax eloquent on paternal idiocy. The ex-con would have to reach them in forty-five seconds or less, and say, “Oh, the keys got locked in the car. We’ll take care of that in a jiffy.” Never would they say that HE locked HIS keys in his car. Then they would Slim-Jimmy the door or use a universal E-lock descrambler, hand Daddy his keys, lock and close the door and all that within an additional minute. They would then conclude with a “Have a wonderful day!”

  Rachel looked out and over to the auto lots. Letting half of the north forty go fallow for the year had created the needed additional parking spaces. “How many?”

  Gustav waxed pedantic. “The Homestead hired seven, one for each lot. Good pay, free housing, food and a good mark on their resumes. Not bad for just a weekend’s work. Two of them are on work release from prison. The Homestead will still make a mint despite expenses. The long-range benefit is incredible name recognition for the city, the Estate, the Civil War interest groups and more. What do you want to bet, two out of five of the next hit movies will feature the mid-1800’s?

  “OK, ladies, the swarm hits in ten minutes. It’ll be at least seven hours before the boys are in range of the com-links. Until then, we rely on the SatComs for them, com-links for us. Let’s go enjoy ourselves, but keep alert for anything we can use this afternoon.”

  The gates opened and, in the first half hour, the roving team members watched humanity, in massed variety, pass by the main gates to the tune of one hundred and twenty people per minute. There were two auxiliary gates, which combined to equal that number again. The pace didn’t diminish for the first hour. By noon, the Edwards Homestead confines had within its borders forty-thousand-plus people, not including the three and a half thousand staff and re-creationist volunteers. After the first half hour of visitor influx, Vanessa returned to find one stunned Monkey.

  “Vanessa! What IS this? Who are all these people? There are so MANY! Where did they all COME from?
”

  “Why, Dearie, I’d say they’re all probably here to witness the signing of the treaty to end the war. Why, surely such an event would attract a passel of people.” Just then a tour group from Mainland China walked up to the porch, led by a specially hired tour guide. Monkey heard gibberish, saw short dark haired people looking everywhere at once and saw E-cam’s flashing like the 4th of July. “Some of them must have come from quite a distance.”

  “It would seem so,” said Monkey, as she could only watch the group go by. Almost hypnotized, she followed them. Vanessa fell in step. The guide (many previous ones had been recalled, and many new ones were quick-trained, just for this occasion) chattered on as all the others in the past did. But Monkey could only stare in dumb fascination as the lecture she had come to memorize became syllables of singsong sound that made no sense. None of this made sense. Why would people, who should be out somewhere laying railroad ties or running laundry services, be dressed up and visiting her home? The tour of the house for that particular group was almost over when Monkey looked at the sun shadow through the front porch door, which was open and letting in the flies, much to her annoyance. She realized with a shock that the time was just past when she usually got her children up. Would she EVER get back on schedule again? What was it all coming to?

  Monkey Annie hurried out the front door to get her other morning chore done and stopped ‘dead’. In the short time she was inside the house, the numbers outside seemed to have doubled.

  “My stars and garters! Well, can’t do nothing about that. Have to move!”

  Vanessa had watched her Annie get the soldiers up and now she watched closely to see if raising the children was similar. She would have liked to be present at the soldier’s final reveille earlier. Monkey looked deeply at the flowerbed near the corner of the fence where the children always played. She was at first afraid that she might not be able to find them, as she had failed at doing with most of the soldiers. Her children were there. Gently and carefully, she raised them from their graves to walk and die once more in the sunlight. The process seemed the same to Vanessa as raising the soldiers. Maybe easier, as the children didn’t ride horses.

  Vanessa could have kicked herself. Had her Annie raised the children instead of a few extra horsemen, they could have been ridden out and be gone by now. That would have nixed the need for final confrontation, or would it? Monkey might have put the soldiers right back into the ground until she could find out what had happened to the kids and done so in a way that might not be un-doable. Go with the game plan. There was no other choice that made sense.

  The bikers arrived. They massed behind the long lines for the Homestead parking lots and made their plans. A rendezvous point was chosen. Then, with a muted roar, the pack split into ones and twos. Traffic directors were taken by surprise as Harleys seemed to weave from every which way past them. By the time they recovered their wits, it was too late. The bikers were in the lots reserved for same and they all seemed to look alike.

  Melissa saw her transportation needs come to a close as they whizzed by crawling cars with inches to spare. Whatever else bikers were, they were experts at precision maneuvering that would outshine a Shriner biker. She cinched her helmet chinstrap tighter, not sure if the thing she was about to do might possibly crack her skull. Hundreds of hours of step aerobics paid off. Melissa balanced her weight on the foot pegs as the bike leaned to the left, she took in a deep breath, and jumped. The biker thought he had hit a serious speed bump, but there was no time to check. He had to get to the rendezvous point. At the lot, Stoker asked him where the babe went. Barry looked back and saw nothing but parking lot. “Hit a wicked speed bump, man. Bummer. She must be in orbit.”

  “Mom, when are we going to get there?” Freddie was thirteen and sat in the back of his parent’s convertible, re-reading his twenty-two comic books, purchased to keep him occupied. Parents really should examine what their children were interested in, for, by this time, the witty comic book dialog had paled and Freddie was paying more attention to feminine pictures of heroic proportions. Truly the decades and the gods had been kind to Wonder Woman’s daughter, ‘Dancer the Avenger’. Her Dad was the Flash. So, besides being an adolescent superhero, she had the additional sad reputation of being a ‘fast girl’. Since the comic book company still marketed Dancer under the umbrella of ‘The Justice League’, parents were more easily whiled (a.k.a. ‘whined and fined’) into the purchase of their product. Freddie was appreciating a particularly graceful Dancer pose when Melissa landed headfirst in the back seat, jamming her head, shoulders and arms in the foot well. Both parents turned to see two denim-covered legs sticking up out of the back and into the air. Freddie had a better vantage point on the less visible half of their visitor, not to mention witnessing gravity’s effect on shirts when a body is turned upside down. His eyes did a ‘Kermit the Frog’, and his smile would have put Howdy Doody to shame. “Thank you, GOD!”

  “FREDDIE!” His mother knew how wild biker women were and no son of hers was about to be influenced by a flying Dixie tart. She had read all about them in Readers Digest. “You there, you get yourself out of this car this instant! Freddie! Put your eyes right back in your head. Jack, you just turn yourself around and watch where you’re driving. NEVERMIND that the line isn’t moving! Face front, you.”

  Melissa managed to finally extricate her upper half from the foot-well, reverse course, lower her shirt and put her feet on solid ground. “My apologies, folks. Those horrible bikers kidnapped me. How can I ever thank you for saving me?”

  Well, that was a horse of a different color. “Freddie, get up front, now!” Freddie’s mom got in back. “Missy, you get back in here with me. Jack, put the top up and hit the A/C. If one of those nasty bikers comes looking for you, we’ll hide you. Now, you tell Mamma Estelle all about it.”

  Melissa made up a credible story with the practiced ease of anyone who has been adolescent and had normal desires to push their luck with parental units. Meanwhile, Freddie and Jack forlornly bonded with a sad shake of their heads. Jack leaned over, keeping his eye on the bumper ahead of him, and whispered, “The Lord giveth...” Freddie put his hand on his father’s shoulder and whispered his half of the code phrase, “...the Mommy taketh away.”

  Gustav and the ladies each had fitted to them, as did the mounted contingent, com-link gear with a four-mile clear-tone range (ten miles, with static). With Rachel and Marianne, their hair concealed the micro-ear plug, while, with Gustav, people would assume he had a hearing aid on board. The plug was wired into the main send/receive unit, well hidden by women who are supplied with natural assets for such subterfuge. A voice condenser was also on board, looking for all the world like a beauty mark that had chosen two lovely necks to rest upon (the optimum location was just over the hyoid bone, which afforded the best vibration conduction and thereby the best voice quality, so sayeth the instruction book). Here, the wire was camouflaged with the lace neck and chest coverings that these dresses were selected for. The ‘on demand’ function stretched out the life of the power packs to allow ten hours non-stop chat. It took a little practice to get used to different sounds in each ear.

  Jason and Rebecca looked around at the crowds. “Brother, did you ever see so many people in all of your born life?”

  “Never! Mrs. Vanessa was speaking the truth. Rebecca, it’s our day!”

  Out of the crowd and right on cue, “Hello kids. No, don’t go yelling and attract Mamma’s attention to what we’re saying. That’s better. Now, there have been some really good things happening.”

  Vanessa spoke to her little ones (she truly felt a motherly responsibility to them) all about the things that had come to pass since yesterday. When she told them there were only eighteen soldiers left, and the one she was going to hand them off to was waiting right now in the woods, their eyes lit up like stars. Vanessa had decided at that point that, even if everythin
g went sour, she would either remain at their sides or attempt to carry them herself. She would not abandon them again unless to let go of their hands as they crossed over. Vanessa thought for a moment. It was entirely possible that she might, today, hold hands and cross over with them. She bit her lip. “Ryan.”

  The soldiers met up with three new recruits. “Well met. I’ve been searching for you, Private Ryan. Seems I lost my First Corporal, two Sergeants and a scattering of Privates this morning. Might you hare some idea as to where I misplaced them?”

  “Major Covington, it would seem that our Mrs. Edwards works nights. Can you work with a skeleton crew?”

  “I may have to stage an impromptu recruiting drive. You three seem already dressed for the part.”

  “They are MY army, Major. No touchee.”

  There was some laughter in the ranks. Major Covington turned to see what the matter was. “Oh no, you didn’t give poor Allen Thunder?”

  “Major, keeping the men’s spirits up is part of the plan. Besides, at least you and your men don’t have the sense of smell we poor mortals are cursed with. I left orders yesterday to give Thunder a special helping of radishes.”

  As if on cue, Thunder gave an especially embarrassing backfire. Allen’s ears and cheeks turned bright red, much to the delighted amusement of the column. If it was the last thing he would ever do, Allen swore he would not get even with Ryan. He would get ahead and stay there. In the meantime, he had his hands full just staying in the saddle.

  “Major, I notice that Private Patterson isn’t here.”

  “Yes Ryan, that changes our plans a little. Elijah had volunteered before to take Jed’s place if he didn’t work out.”

  “Not necessary. Jed is still here,” the major’s eyes widened, “...and he’s cured.”

  “The devil you say!”

  Ryan related what Vanessa had told him earlier about the last rider to be raised, going into detail on the changed demeanor. “Major, how do I know that this isn’t just a ruse? Can I trust this man?”

  The Major rode in deep thought, bringing every shred of memory of Private Jed to mind. So often in life, he had been called upon to take sketchy information and make a life or death decision based upon it. After ten minutes, he had an answer and he prayed it was right.

  “I believe this news is trustworthy. In all the many scores of years, Private Patterson may have been mad, muttering, and isolated from the others, but he never hid where he stood on things. Here now is a new stance. He has never shown sufficient guile to hide his true feelings. For all else that he is or was, Jed is a simple man. I believe this to be on the level, Ryan. Jed is sane and wanting redemption for his sins. This is excellent news indeed, excellent.”

  “Great. That’s what I had hoped you would say. Now, here’s the deal...”

  Once inside the property and having excused herself from her benefactors, Melissa went to an outdoor snack stand for some refreshment. She chose a table, partially sheltered by a potted palm. The helmet she had borrowed was deposited into a ‘lost and found’ bin with Barry’s name and a thank you note attached. Punching up the SatCom and ‘sinning again’, she looked at the readouts. “Not here? What is he doing way out there?” She punched up ‘map mode’ and watched for a while. “It looks like he’s coming in this direction, but slowly. Why?”

  She spotted Hammer walking by with a couple of his protégé’s and edged further behind the palm. She had to make herself less conspicuous, but how? In her event program, Melissa found opportunity knocking in an advertisement. There was the answer, a mere four-minute walk from there. She waited until the coast was clear and slipped out with her nose into the tourist map that she wasn’t looking at.

  Vanessa was dividing her time between the children and Monkey Annie. She had hoped that her submerged Annie could pick up on what was being said as she had managed to do when Ryan broke Mad’s concentration and saved Allen, but it was impossible to be sure of that. She could only hope it was so.

  When she was with the children, they played games and told stories of their past lives. Jason and Rebecca repeated some of their most significant stories, as they hadn’t lived quite as long as Vanessa, but she didn’t mind one bit. They got a big hoot out of poor Ralph’s bun pinching and poor Allen’s horse handicap. Jason doubled over laughing on that one, though Rebecca was far too much a little lady to yield to laughter over such a base subject. That just wasn’t refined. Vanessa’s eyes glowed with pride.

  It was time for a little experiment. “Rebecca, how would you like a better view of everything?” Both children seemed confused at the request. “Here, let me boost you onto this fence rail. You can steady yourself by keeping your hands on my shoulder.” No child created by God ever refused elevation by a trusted adult, as far as Vanessa knew (Obediah being a prime example. It was a miracle that Ryan had any shoulders left at all.). Rebecca seemed reluctant, but Vanessa was someone she had complete trust in and the chance may never come again, hopefully.

  “OK, Mrs. Vanessa, I’ll give it a try.”

  There was absolutely nothing to it. Rebecca balanced both feet on the fence rail and stood balanced with her hands on Vanessa’s shoulders. She looked around at a whole new perspective of the world that surrounded her tiny patch of a playground. It was almost like being an adult. Jason was not to be left out and, being taller than Rebecca, Vanessa hardly had to bend to lift him up. Brother and sister stood side by side, each steadied by a shoulder of the best friend they ever had. “I wish Ryan could see this.”

  Monkey appeared to be getting her sea legs back. It was just past one o’clock and they had to maintain cycles of befuddlement all day, if possible. Vanessa was just about to get the kids back down, then pop off to get Ryan to give the signal for the next hoodwink when her eye was attracted to a familiar face.

  Southern Belles were everywhere, be they paid staff or paying customers. It was getting so that someone not in some kind of regalia stood out from the crowd. It wasn’t the outfit, then. Who was she? Vanessa stared at the lady as she walked by her, and then covered her mouth with both hands. “Oh my gosh! Ryan will have to hear about this, too!”

  The soldiers were getting a real chuckle out of mortal efforts to stay upwind, a task complicated by the capricious breeze directions. That was fine with Ryan. Always keep your audience happy. He overheard one soldier snicker to another, “To air is human.”

  Allen and Ralph caught the usual change that meant Vanessa was on board. Both wished more than ever to hear both sides of the conversation. This one was particularly cryptic.

  “Monkey is recovering her wits. I think it’s time for the belles to ding-a-ling.”

  “Agreed, we’ll get that one rolling right away. Anything else?”

  “Melissa’s here.”

  “WHAT?”

  That got everyone’s attention. The soldiers had heard about their ‘blind’ companion’s lady worries. Ryan talked about a lot of things to keep their spirits up and Allen was a prime subject. All Allen and Ralph could do was look at each other and get a little closer.

  “I didn’t recognize her at first; she was so out of place. Melissa’s dolled up in full Civil War socialite regalia, complete with parasol.”

  Keeping the lid on, Ryan limited his vocabulary. “Recommendations?”

  “Do you think this might be a ‘Monkey wench’ in the works?”

  “Is there a time when you don’t make a joke? Maybe. What’s your take?”

  “Ryan, she’s different, now. She’s unbitched her wagon.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “Women know women. There are signs we look for that even we don’t know what they are. Impressions. She’s not walking like the Queen of the May, for one. I heard her asking for information from a staffer. She was polite and even said ‘thank you very much’.”

  “Are you sure of ID?”

  “Checked and double checke
d. Are you going to tell Allen?”

  “Not yet. I’ll think on that one. Get going on ‘Petticoat Junction’.”

  “Roger and out.” Vanessa winked out and Ryan made the prearranged signal with his SatCom. Time passed. No one except Thunder spilled any beans.

  “Yo, Ryan, the Kid and I are waiting for your wisdom, oh wise one.”

  “Huh? Oh, sorry Ralph. We’re going on with Rachel and Marianne’s op.”

  Allen asked, “So what does that have to do with checking identification?”

  “Nothing.”

  It wasn’t like Ryan to be so closed lipped, but they got the hint to let go of it. “What’s going on?” they both thought.

  Melissa was about to enter the Homestead Main House when she looked down the stone walkway that lead to it and saw them coming. “Cripes! S’cuse me, pardon me, ladies room emergency, pardon me.” Melissa managed to cut past the two dozen tourists in line in front of her and, to keep up appearances, she went right to the powder room. As it was, the fright she had experienced kept her from lying about the need.

  Once that was taken care of (‘Damn dresses, how did they handle outhouses?’), she slipped back to the front of the house and looked out the windows of the main drawing room. There they were, smiling and talking to each other. Melissa wondered what they were talking about.

  She couldn’t go out on the porch, however there was a small settee right in front of the window nearest the door. The house had a lot of little sitting stations for rest stops, for people of all ages and physical description had passed through these rooms. A young man studying a roster of events, times and locations, occupied this strategic settee. In the bygone era being promoted today, a gentleman should give up his chair for a lady. It was worth a try.

  Melissa walked up to the young man. On closer inspection, he was about her age and not bad looking. He was no Allen, but not bad. Well, no time for subtlety.

  “EEYOOOW!”

  The lad jumped out of his seat (was it chivalry or just a startle reaction?) and she plopped her backsides down after half a second’s vacancy. “Oh, thank you, kind suh! Y’all is a gentleman, true. Ah has twisted mah ankle a bit.”

  Kevin McLane heard opportunity knocking. Maybe this weekend with his new stepfather (trying to play ‘dad’) wouldn’t be a total wash. “Well, hello there, my sweet Georgia peach. My name is McLane, Kevin McLane.”

  (“Bond, James Bond. Why do guys do that?”) “Why Kevin, what a lovely name! ‘McLane, Millicent McLane’. That name would suit me jes fine in mah current predicament.”

  “(Huh?) And just what kind of predicament could a lovely lady like you have gotten herself into that I might be of help with?”

  “Well, you see, suh, ah just had an ultrasound and have twins on board two months along. Ah can’t rightly locate the father and so ah’m in the market for a strong, handsome young man, like you, to support us’ns. So, would you please jes get me an ice pack from over at the medical station? Then we’ll just trot up to the Justice of the Peace around the corner and tie ourselves a knot.”

  She tried her best not to laugh at the look on ‘McLane, Kevin McLane’s’ face. His eyes had opened large enough to see the whites completely around the iris; the ‘Hoo-Dat’ sign.

  “Right, Miss, uh, I’ll get you that ice pack. You just stay right here, don’t move, for at least half an hour.” Kevin made a hasty retreat. It was time for him and his stepfather to get to know each other better, on the other side of the Homestead property, or the other side of the Peach State. Kevin wasn’t a bad young man. Fifteen minutes later a staffer brought an icepack to Melissa with a short note of apology about an emergency having come up and wishing her good luck with the twins.

  She could hear one familiar voice behind her and one not so familiar. It was hard to catch what they were saying, so she reached up casually behind her and gently opened the window up a foot, making a show of fanning herself as if over warm. Yes, she could hear much better.

  Vanessa caught the window’s motion and gave a glance through the rippled glass. There was a seated young lady behind that window. No harm in that. “Wait. That dress, that hair style.” Vanessa didn’t bother with the door, not wanting Monkey to notice her moving away. So, she just turned sideways and leaned to her right for an undistorted view. If Melissa could have seen what Ryan would have seen, were he sitting on that settee, she would have jumped out of her skin. As it was, a smiling Vanessa went back to standing behind a panicked Monkey. Melissa’s coming today might have been coincidence. Eavesdropping when and where Marianne and Allen’s mother were talking outside wasn’t coincidence. “Well, well, well.”