Out of the Blues

Entry 5

2004-12-19T15:26:00.000-08:00

Esther no longer shuffled. Her steps were brisk as she bustled into a large, windowed office, pan-optic. I followed, staring down at a scientific laboratory filled with people in white uniforms.

"Esther, what is this place? Why so secret?"

"I figured you didn't hear a word I was saying while we were in the tunnel. Don't worry, I'll get back to it." She shuffled some papers, turned and looked in a filing cabinet, not answering my questions at all.

"Dr. O. So glad you're back."I turned to see a giant of a man standing outside the door, stooping to look in. A dwarf, now a giant. What was this, a retreat for those with unusual physical attributes? And why was I here?

"Danny Boy, come in," Esther said without turning toward him. "I want you to meet Sassy Cambridge. Sassy, Daniel." She swiveled in her chair and grinned at us.

"Hi, Daniel." I stretched out my hand as I rose. He was next to me in one stride, his head just clearing the ceiling.

"Ah, Sassy Cambridge, we've been waiting for you." His voice rumbled across the surface of my being. My hand felt tiny as he took it gently. He sank to the floor, crossed legged at my feet, and looked at Esther.

"She's here."

"What do you mean, you've been expecting me?" Esther and now Daniel, or was I to call him Danny Boy also. Kinda cute, I had to admit. But there was something odd about him also. I couldn't place it until he turned his head and caught my eyes with his odd colored ones: one brown, one blue or was it green? A very unique person. Once again I longed for my camera. How to shoot him? I could do a book just on the angles and planes of his face, on showing his height, exaggerating it or diminishing it but accentuating it with a change of lens.

"Didn't Dr. O tell you?" I loved his voice. "No. Or maybe," I fumbled.

"Of cource I did." Esther chuckled. "But do you think she heard a single word while we were speeding along in the tunnel? No. Not a word." She shook her head."Sassy, you go along with Daniel. He'll give you the overview. I don't want to exhaust you on your first visit. Danny Boy, was there something you needed to talk about?" She glanced his way, dismissing me.

"I'll explain it later. We've had some unusual results in Unit 501. It will be my pleasure to escort Ms. Cambridge about the premises."

"Sassy, please."

"Unusual results? Do I need to examine it immediately?" Esther frowned. I wondered if I should call her "Dr. O" while I was in her professional realm.

"I think it's alright, Dr. O. But very interesting." I felt he was hedging on any details on my account. I was more curious than ever. Maybe he'd let something slip. Something was going on here and I would find out. No more lallygagging, no more giving into physical sensations of deprivation. I had to pay attention, be on the ball, get rid of my cliches and draw some conclusions.

"Come, Sassy." He rose effortless from his position on the floor and grabbed my hand. I followed, feeling his vibration through our clasped hands. Deirdre would love to tell me what that was about. She's always urging me to pay attention to the subtle level of life, to interpret every nuance. I prefer to stay in the here and now, thank you very much.I was almost running to keep up with Danny Boy. "Uh, what's the hurry?" I finally asked after we'd passed many doors and I was as curious as Alice in Wonderland.

He glanced back at me and stopped. "I forget sometimes. Forgive me. Just speak up, like you did, and remind me. I can be a thoughtless oaf at times."

"I don't think you're an oaf."

He grinned at that."Thank you." Again the deep rumble of his voice touched me."We'll take this elevator and go down to the main lab. Let me explain briefly. Dr. O has studied many things. She's an MD and a homeopath. She's an herbalist and an aromatherapist. Plus she studied Auruvedic medicine in India. And she's a researcher."

I nodded, remembering some of her books.

"She's trying to meld eastern and western medicine and come up with a new paradym for healing. We still have to keep the stem cell research under wraps. She's taking the premise of homeopathy and applying to stem cell research. The potential for helping the world is beyond current perception."

"Interesting." I could think of nothing else to say. I was catching on. The stem cell issue had been up for years and blocked by government intervention based on some antiquated religious beliefs that seeped into legislation.

"Plus the vibrational attributes that can be added by intention. Are you following me. These concepts are not being addressed by mainstream medicine at the moment. The alternative healers go their way, thinking it is best. The docs do what they learned in school which doesn't leave much room for experimenting. And that's where Dr. O comes in."

The elevator stopped but we just stood there talking as I looked out on the lab floor.

"How do you come into the picture, Danny Boy?" Oh. I let that one slip. "Daniel."

"I'd like you to call me Danny Boy." A sparkling grin told me he meant it. "I met Dr. O years ago on a research project in Guatemala. We stayed in touch on and off for a long time. When she wanted to set up this research facility she asked me to help. I've been here ever since."

"How can a place like this not be discovered. Where do the workers live? Doesn't anyone in Fondis suspect? Is it really top secret?"

"Whoa. One at at time. We have a cover. You'll see when you go above ground. We are on the outskirts of the industrial complex. The upper level is an internet warehouse. GetSirius. Rather like Amazon. Have you heard of GetSirius.com? We started out with books and branched out. Our motto is quality. All our workers wear the same uniforms as we do down here. No one knows the difference. We have over 500 employees up there. We're good for the town of Fondis."

I shook my head. I'd only done a few interviews with folks in the industrial complex. It seemed like a good scheme. And it must be working. I'd seen TV ads for GetSirius.com

"Come. I'll show you around. To the left we grow our herbs. To the right, they are made into herbal remedies or homeopathic remedies. In front of us, behind the steel doors, is our top security stem cell research." His long arm indicated each section that I'd seen from above in Esther's office.

"But how can things grow below ground?"

"Easy. See the lighting units? They are all full spectrum lighting, replicating the patterns of the sun and the seasons. You can actually see and feel the sun rise and set here. Our workdays are aligned to natural lighting. We work shorter hours in the winter. Our research shifts to a more inward pattern, just like nature."

"It's all rather hard to fathom," I said, following him down an aisle of cilantro and parsley.

"Enough for one day, I'm sure. How are you feeling?"

"Fine. On overload, though."

Danny Boy stepped to a digital panel on the wall, punched in a code and spoke. "Tea time?"

Dr. O's voice came back, crystal clear. "Take her topside. We'll drive back to my place."

Entry 4

2004-12-19T15:19:00.000-08:00

I dont' know whether to laugh or cry. I'm sitting in this cylindrical glass contraption next to Esther who is chatting along about various and sundry scientific advancements and I wish I had my tape recorder because I can't pay attention to anything she's saying. We are speeding, warp speed I'm sure, along some underground mass transit unit. I mean, what's happening? This is Fondis, not some Jetson cartoon or sci fi thriller. I can't wait to tell Isis about this. She'll probably write a novel about it. Well, I'm not supposed to "tell." Esther trusts me. Do I trust Esther? At the moment I'm not at all sure. First of all, she's pretending to be a weird little old lady living in a falling down old house. She's old alright but sharper than a tack. I hate it when writers use cliches.

You can tell I"m really out of it here.Physically I don't know what's going on. I feel light headed and there is a strange, low level vibration rocking in my body. I can't tell how this unit is powered but there is a digital readout panel that Esther nudged with a gnarled finger.Back to Esther. She's really Dr. Esther Buland Ortez with more acronyms after her name than the alphabet. I've read some of her books when doing scientific research for other articles. She used to live someplace in South America and of course did lots of studies in Europe and Greece. I don't have a perspective here on what's going on, what she's really up to and why I'm riding along here beneath Fondis.I figured we went down about six stories in the elevator. It was so fast it was hard to estimate but I'm pretty good with physical reality and have a built in compass, which means I always know where north is. I think we're headed east. But all my sensory input is out of whack and I could be headed for the moon for all I know.

"Are you following this, Sassy?" She turns her brightly made up face to me and frowns. "Oh, dear, you look a little peaked. Now just a minute." She rummages in a pocket of her flowing blouse and retrieves a small vial. "Here. Take one of these. It's hard to get used to subsurface travel. I do forget about these things. Sorry."

I'm somewhat reluctant to take the unknown tablet and pull back but she's already pushing it under my tongue. Oh, well. I'm already on this ride so I'll just see where it follows. As the pill dissolves, I actually do feel better.

"What did you give me, Esther?"

"I know you have a good background. Yes, yes. I've checked you out. You are familiar with homeopathy, yes?"

I nod. "I am. I wrote a story about that famous Fondis homeopath--"

"My friend. Yes. I read it. Very perceptive writing. That's what I've been trying to tell you about. We really mustn't throw the baby out with the bathwater. It is time to weave the old and the new together. Not carry disdain about western medicine or any allopathic methods. Not to think one is better than the other. There now, you're looking better."

"I'm healthy as a horse." Was I destined to speak in cliches for the rest of the afternoon? "So I am not personally biased in any direction. I don't go to the doctor but I've interviewed almost all of them in Fondis. And all the alternative healers that I can find."

"I've read all your articles for years."

I can't seem to get that in my head.

"That is why you were chosen. Your background. Your open mindedness. And my need for an outside observer." She leaned forward and fiddled with a dial.

"Esther, I feel like a fish out of water without my camera and tape recorder." Jeez.

"I know, Sassy. Don't worry about it now. Just tune into the whole picture."

The subterrranian two person speed cylinder came gently to a stop. My whole body vibrated as I stood and followed her down a brightly lit passage. I was certain we were well beyond the Fondis city limits.Esther palmed a digital pad and pressed her chin onto a cupped shelf, adjusting an iris scanner.

"Just do what I did," she instructed.

"I don't understand." The understatement of the day. "I believe this is security that identified you by your palm print and your iris. It can't identify me."

"We want you to have future access. I've programmed it to scan you know and record. Now step up here." She adjusted the chin pad to my height. Reluctantly I stepped forward. The more I know the more I know others know. I still have a little "1984" paranoia going on. Especially since the Patriot Act went into effect. The big "they" know more and more and we know les and less. Now some big gopher hole in the ground will know some of my deepest secrets. My eye and only my eye, a unique pattern, like a snowflake. In the long run, it doesn't matter. As Aunt Ruby used to say, "What will it mean in one hundred years?" Not much.

Entry 3

2004-12-19T15:11:00.000-08:00

email from deirdrehmoon@yahoo.com

Sassy--are you okay? I'm sitting here in the yurt in front of the fire, gazing into my crystal ball. The faeries were dancing all around and then they split and I saw your face and you were so out of focus like something weird was going on. I just know something is wrong or the faeries would still be here.I'll send this to your work and home email. Let me know if you need anything.

Blessings in all ways,
LoveDeirdre

Entry 2

2004-12-19T14:55:00.000-08:00

I was still stunned as we stood in the small garden behind the house. Esther deadheaded some geraniums and I just watched, my mouth still open. I'd been working on a series about one hundred years old houses in the Fondis area. The crazy wild woman was only going to be a bonus to highlight the story. I'd told her all that on the phone. No not that everyone thought she was crazy. Just about the series. She'd been reading it, said it was okay. What did I do now that I recognised her as a very famous person, obviously in cognito.She'd been giving dates and facts about the house, now pointing to an addition her grandfather had made. I was glad the tape recorder was voice activated. I'd catch the details when I transcribed the tape. Most reporters scribble on a narrow pad. I pride myself on accurate quotes and it's proved beneficial many times. Especially when I'm quoting a local cop who trying to hide something illicit.

"Come on, girl. Oh, excuse me. Sassy. Keep up." She shuffled along a path lined with blooming lavender, an alyssum border. "Here, I want you to meet Cassandra." A beautiful head popped up from behind a rose bush. A child. But not. When she stood I saw that she was a miniature woman.

"Glad to meet you," I said, extending my hand and smiling while trying not to stare. "My name's Sassy."

"Yes. I know," her voice was golden. "I read your articles. I'm so happy to meet you." Her smile glowed like the yellow hybrid tea rose that she handed me.

"Knew you two would hit it off," Esther chuckled. "Now come along and look at this rose bush over here. It's over two hundred years old. Should fit right in with your story. I took a shot of the two of them fusing over a dead bloom--or that's what I thought.

"Cassandra's worried about you. Thinks you'll know too much."I frowned. It was my job to know too much. People always told me too much. I am very discreet about what I chose to write. I have a good reputation--as long as I stay away from investigative reporting. I'd hardly asked any questions and already had enough to write what I needed for the old house series.
Cassandra moved out of view, tending another plant.

"I want to know everything," I said bluntly.

"Of cource you do. And you will be select in what you write. Because you will know almost everything by day's end. It is time for someone to know. You were specially selected."

What? I'd called her. Now, wait a minute. Who suggested that her house would be interesting? I couldn't remember. I'd have to check the notes on my cluttered desk."Day's end?" I was befuddled.

"Of cource. You'll stay for tea and I'll show you everything. You have enough for your story, yes?"

I was more unnerved by her awareness of my thoughts."Yes."

"Now it's time to put the camera away and turn off the tape recorder."

"No," I responded at once. I was very possessive about the tools of my trade.

"Don't worry. Cassandra?" The tiny woman was instantly at her side. "Please make sure Sassy's camera bag is secured safely." She smiled. Cassandra reached for my bag and took it against my objection, carrying the weight easily. I followed.Next to a tool shed, she opened a cupboard hidden beneath honeysuckle. Deftly she twirled the combination to open a large safe. Cassandra turned and smiled at me.

"It will be safe here. Your camera, please." She tucked it into the bag. "And your tape recorder."

Reluctantly I slipped it out of my pocket and handed it to her. She zipped the side pocket closed and placed the camera bag into the safe, and closed it.

"But how will I get it back?"

"Don't worry, Sassy." She closed the wooden door that hid the safe and padlocked it. "Here is the key. The combination to the safe is the last four numbers of your phone number."

What was I getting myself into? I slipped the key into my jean pocket.

"Over here," Esther yelled.

Cassandra's tiny hand grabbed mine. "C'mon. This will be fun." She giggled and I followed, deciding that curiosity was my bane and blessing as usual.

Esther was sitting on a garden bench petting the calico cat. I sat down beside her, pulled my cap off and rubbed the stubble of hair. She glanced at me with alarm."I didn't know you were having chemo. Cassandra, why didn't we know this?" She glanced at the little woman squatting to arrange a misplaced stone on the path's edge.

"No. You misunderstand," I hurried to explain. "My friend Maggie had a double mastectomy and then chemo. To support her, I shaved my head. It's just starting to grow out."

Esther clucked and shot a glance to Cassandra. "Umm humm. Fine. You scared me. We try to be very selective. Not let something like that slip by. Yes, I think we know about your friend. I'm sorry for what she's been through. It is hard for friends to stand by and feel helpless. That's part of what my work is about."

I slid the cap back on my head to shade my eyes from the piercing sun that shone through billowing clouds. Esther took my hand and turned it palm up. Cassandra scurried forward to stare into it.

"What?" I asked. I was on the wrong assignment here. This part should have been Deirdre's. She was always doing airy fairy stories.

"A very long life," Esther said.

"A healer," Cassandra noted, running a finger across the "M" in my left palm.

"A star woman," Esther pointed to several places where I could see nothing. "Enough. We could spend the day looking into your past and future. Let us be with the present." She rose with the ease of a much younger woman and walked toward the tool shed.

Cassandra pulled a key from beneath her black tunic and unlocked the door. The entire shed concealed an elevator. I must be dreaming. I glanced back at the shabby old house and the well tended gardens and heard the elevator door slide open. I followed Esther in.

"Cassandra will stay here. We expect a guest for tea time." Cassandra smiled and waved as the door slid shut. My stomach lurched as we decsended with great speed.

"Where are we going?" I managed as I looked for floor numbers to be indicated.

"I told you I'd show you all. This is all off the record. I have done my research you see. You came to interview the crazy old lady in the ancient old house. You've done that. Now you will see one of the great secrets of Fondis. Everyone who works here has Absolute Security Clearance. No. Not anything to do with the government. That's why it has to be so secure. We are doing research for the greatest good. But there are those who would malign our projects."

The elevator stopped suddenly. I couldn't tell how far beneath the surface we were but there was a strange feeling in my ears and I was trying to sort out what I was hearing.

"There was recently a threat. That is why I want you to know about this. You are my safety link. You do not need to know why I trust you. I do. I also know you recognise who I am. You will only write the article about the crazy old lady in the house. Listen to the tape and you will only hear my local yocal accent and language. It will be a fine story. I need your reporter's awareness for what you are about to see."

The doors slid open and I followed Esther into the stainless steel room with endless digital panels.

Entry 1-November 1, 2004

2004-12-03T21:14:00.000-08:00

If you can't find Entry 1, that's fine. I can't either so I am re-posting. Will try to get it all up this week if you want to follow along in the adventures of Sassy Cambridge, our heroine.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Monday, November 01, 2004

I stepped cautiously up the uneven steps, hoping they'd hold. I'd noticed the battered old house for years and always wondered who lived here. Now I had an appointment with the wild woman every one claimed had never been out of the house. I didn't believe it after a pleasant phone conversation with a woman who sounded perfectly rational. She didnt' sound wild. She sounded like my grandmother. Rumor also had it that she was famous. Well, I would find out soon enough. The pros and cons of being a reporter.No doorbell. Almost no door. It tilted at an angle, the bottom panes of glass missing. A calico cat hissed and flew out from the back porch past my ankles. Maybe the old lady was a witch and that was her familiar. But I must keep an open reporter's mind, non judgmental and looking always for the story behind the story.The door creaked as I pushed on it and called out.

"Anybody home?"No reply. Easing my way into the small porch cluttered with ages of debris, I almost had second thoughts. I'd heard of old people dying when a stack of clutter fell, pinning them beneath a pile of some important stack of stuff.Tripping over a collection of worn shoes and goloshes (who uses goloshes anymore?), I knocked at the door.

"Come in--you're late," she yelled as she pulled the door open and glared at me. The valleys of her face shadowed beneath a yellow towel turbined around her head. A bright red towel swathed her sagging naked body. I hesitated. If I was late, why wasn't she ready?A massive white beast lumbered toward me. I backed up. A Great Pyrenees. I recognised the breed from a dog show I'd covered. Jeez.

"Oh, that's Jill. Don't worry about her." I did."Now follow me." She turned and headed toward the kitchen. " Get these dishes done first and then--oh, do hurry. That girl from the paper will be here in an hour."

"Uh, Excuse me, Mrs. Buland," I said."Forget that formal garbage. Call me Esther." She stopped and looked over her shoulder.

"Okay. Esther. I am the girl from the paper." I never call myself girl--but I wasn't going to quibble now. I wanted the interview. I already had plenty of good images for a feisty story. I doubted if she'd get the cultural/political implications of my preferring to be called a woman. Whatever.She spun around, her pale blue eyes wide.

"You're Sassy Cambridge?"I nodded. She must read the Fondis Daily News and recognise my byline.Esther Buland frowned, adding to the geography of her face. "I thought you was the cleaning girl. Now, I have to say you're early. Not late. Well, no matter. It can't be helped now. And it don't much matter if that girl comes now or not. Since you're already here and seen this mess. Follow me." She headed down the hall and I did as I was told. For once. The dog pushed past me, guarding her mistress."Sit here, girl," she said referring to me, not the dog, who settled like a massive white rug on the floor guarding the doorway and consequently the little old lady.

"You can call me Sassy," I said in the same tone she'd told me to call her Esther. She laughed. This was going to be okay. I sat on the edge of the bed indicated. She flipped lights on over the sink in the adjoining bathroom. The counter was cluttered with make up, perfume and jewelry.

"Okay, Sassy. I'm just goin' to get along with what I was about to do and you can ask me questions. When I've got my face on and get dressed, I'll take you out back. Esther flipped a switch on a small CD player and Bruce Springsteen roared to life. "Oh. Does this bother you?" she shouted. "I need a little energy to get goin' in the mornin'." We both laughed.

"Well, I was going to ask you some questions and the music will override my tape recorder," I said and pulled the mini tape recorder from the camera bag I'd plopped on the floor.

"What?" she yelled, shook her head, and turned off the CD. "Sorry. I just put that on out of habit. I do a lot of that these days. Habit, ya know." I nodded and pushed the button on my recorder as Esther rubbed cream unto her wrinkled face.

"How long have you lived in Fondis?"

"Born here." She brushed purple shadow across her eyelids.

"Have you lived here all your life?"

"Nope. Just long enough to get bad habits in how I talk. They weren't much for grammar when I was a kid. But no, I can do better. I'll try. Just a bad habit. Lived in India for a few years with an old aunt when my folks got killed in the famous Fondis Bank robbery. When Auntie Ruby died, I went to live in England. They set me straight in that very strict school about proper English. I think I rebelled." She chuckled. A lot of teeth were missing. "I use this hick talk as my Fondis facade and sure, out of habit now also." She applied eyeliner and then mascara.I twisted the baseball cap around so the bill wouldn't block my view and pulled my camera out, changed to the long lens, lodged the tape recorder between my knees and began to shoot.

"I was living with Mr. Chaucer at the time. He'd been Auntie Ruby's lover before she went to India to help in a hospital for the poor. God knows, everybody in India seemed poor so she had her work cut out for her. Mr. Chaucer got all her possessions, including me. Think it probably rankled him a bit but after a while we settled down into a routine and got along fine."

She'd stopped applying a foundation while she talked and now dabbed her face with a sponge and applied rouge.

"I've heard the educational system is different in the UK. Did you learn anything special?" I focused a tight shot on her hand as she applied lipstick to her oh-pen mouth. I smiled to myself at my own pun.

"Everything's different. I was doing algebra and geometry in seventh grade. People are bright all over the world but it depends on what they're exposed to as to how intelligent they seem as adults. Piss poor education in this country. All snarled up with those stupid politicians. Nobody asking a poor teacher how the kids learn best. Stupid tests. That's all they do now is worry about testing and kids don't learn to think critically.

"I glanced down at the red light to make sure I was recording. This was going to be good."Yup. Yes. I received an excellent education. But it was really Mr. Chaucer who would plant the seed that grew into my lifetime mission. We started out all formal like. Mr. Chaucer this and Mr. Chaucer that. By the time I sat in his lap reading at night, I was calling him uncle Chauc. Now don't get no funny ideas here. He didn't ever try anything. He was more like a father to me than my own dad who was always too busy with bank business to pay attention to me." She pulled her hunks of white hair and rolled them around a curling iron.

"What seed did he plant that influenced you most?" I asked.

"Uncle Chauc was an herbalist and his best friend Herbie was a homeopath. I'd sit evenings listening to them discuss theory and practice. How which approach helped people more. They were always arguing. There was no TV, you know. So the three of us would have a pot of tea and I'd sit there and listen and after a few years I'd learned enough to join in and offer my own opinions. Now talk about hanky panky. In retrospect, I'm certain they were gay. Don't look shocked."I didn't. I surpressed a smile."They were very close. Next door neighbors, ya know. And having all that intellectual stimulation wasn't all they had. But they kept it from me. I didn't know anything about sex at that time. That was the only problem growing up the way I did. They were old foggies and never brought it up. But that's another story. Of cource I figured out the fundamentals from textbooks. But I digress. Where were we?"

"So you studied herbs with your uncle?" I prompted.

"Oh, yes. He had a massive greenhouse behind the coach house and I helped him plant and research and eventually make up remedies. By the time I was ready for college, I knew more than most American professors in the field. I wanted to go to study abroad but Uncle Chauc was bent on my coming back to America. He thought I'd have my best chances for success here. I wasn't sure then and I'm still not." She pursed her burgundy lips and shook her head.Dropping the red towel to the floor, she opened the closet. I set the camera aside while she dressed. I know I missed some priceless shots but I did have a growing respect for her. She wore black woolen slacks on her slender frame, topped with a wild orange and red blouse that billowed when she moved.

I gasped when she turned the finished product to me. I recognised her. Where had I seen that face? On a book jacket. On TV. Egads, I hadn't done enough homework on this one. Everyone always referred to her as Mrs. B, the crazy old lady, the witch, the wild one. It was all coming into focus. Esther Buland. Someone would want this article besides the Fondis Daily News. I began clicking images unto film.

Entry 54

2004-11-29T20:03:00.000-08:00

Danny Boy appeared suddenly at my side as I entered Fondis International Airport.

"A little light reading for your trip." His voice rumbled around me as he handed me a sealed manila envelope.

"Thanks, Danny Boy." I searched his face for weariness. "Are you okay? Can we go to the coffee shop and talk before I board? I have time," I said glancing at my watch.

"I’m not too good in coffee shops for small people." Danny Boy chuckled. "There’s a wide space over there on the edge of that planter. Come." I followed, glad that I’d checked my baggage outside where Deirdre dropped me off.

"I don’t really understand all the little secrets going on here. I know you started following me, protecting me when things looked dicey. Now, I think everything’s fine. But I understand that you needed a vacation. Did you get sick because of me?" I hated the thought.

"No, little one. I just needed to be with my people for a while." I’d never thought about that. "My mother lives deep in the woods. She misses me so I go there with provisions whenever I can. She understands my life work must take me away."

"Danny Boy, are you a yeti?" I had to ask -- after all I am a reporter.

"I’ve been called many things. Sometimes, yes, a yeti. I have learned the art of invisibility, of blending, so most of the time people don’t notice me. Right now people will just see a man and a woman talking and think nothing of it. I don’t know if I will continue to be assigned to you. I do hope so for I’ve grown fond of you and your impulsive ways." I’d never heard him talk so much.

"Have you been assigned to other people? Are you just a body guard?" I thought he was a lot more, some kind of mysterious wise man in a body not appreciated in our society unless as some kind of freak.

"Oh, I’ve helped many people over the years. Sometimes high level government people. I prefer this assignment." He flashed a grin that was boyish.

"Do you have a girl friend?" He actually blushed. "You do. Tell me about her. Where does she live? How often do you get to see her?" I can’t help myself. I always want to know everything about everybody. It drives some people nuts. I guess that’s why Victoria and I are such good friends. She takes me in stride and understands I just am who I am.

"She lives with my mother’s tribe. There are very few of us left. Sometimes we talk about going back to the family home in Mt. Shasta. But I know I have work to do on the outside here. For now anyway. Yes, I did see her when I went home. She’s a lovely one. She looks me right in the eye. I like that." His smile was sweet.

"Danny Boy, thank you for sharing all this with me. I have to take my shoes off and go through security. I’ll see you when I see you. And thanks for the reading material. Any hints on contents?"

"I think it’s mostly about stem cell research in Europe where things are more advanced. We work with a lot of scientists from there. We help them in concepts and theory and they help us in actual scientific activities. Sweden, Finland, Greece, the Netherlands and the UK.

Switzerland just approved limited stem cell research. It’s all in there. Different restrictions exist in different countries. A lot of what we do is still banned. That’s why we’re so cautious. But Cerridwen said the stars are right and we must begin to make the concept more understandable to the general public. That’s where you come in. Thank you, Sassy." He kissed my cheek and slipped into the crowd unnoticed.

I hurried off to my concourse and went through the procedure, distracted by everything Danny Boy had revealed. He was a good friend.

Entry 56

2004-11-29T19:07:00.000-08:00

Wellington and Victoria were up early in the morning, their heads together over an ancient map, discussing the probable location of Atlantis.

"Good Morning, Sassy. We’ve already had breakfast. I didn’t know how long you two would sleep."

"There’s coffee, if you like," said Wellington.

I shook my head.

"Wellington has an appointment and I’m going to accompany him," Victoria said. "Let’s get together for lunch at your new place. We’ll bring something." She glanced at Wellington who smiled. "Write down the address, okay?"

"Pee. Brush teeth," I muttered and stumbled into the bathroom. I really can’t think before I do both things. They laughed.

I copied out my new address and Victoria and Wellington left without much explanation. They were being too mysterious for my morning mind. Tom and I decided to go out to breakfast and then take a cab to my place.

The façade of the building was a lovely old brick, three stories.

"A brownstone," Tom said. It didn’t mean anything to me.

I unlocked the main door and found 1-A at the end of the hall. I unlocked both locks, futzing with keys to find which fit.

"You’re on the ground floor. I’d like it better if you were up a flight," Tom said.

"Why?"

"I think it’s safer."

I laughed. "You’re becoming such a New Yorker."

"Yeah. I guess I am. But this isn’t Fondis. Not that plenty didn’t happen there. I just worry about you sometimes, Sassy."

"Don’t." It seemed easy enough to me. I wasn’t about to be a pampered lady even in a city of eight million people.

The floors were polished wood, the kitchen and bathroom tile, tiny octagonal shapes of an age gone by, but well maintained.

"Look, Tom. A garden." I opened the barred door to a narrow strip of land, soggy with melting snow. I could imagine flowers. I loved it.

"Sassy, two bedrooms. You’re really uptown now."

"I’m starting a new life, Tom. Cassandra said I was a phoenix. I think she’s right." I turned to see what he was discovering. It was me. His eyes devoured me and I melted into his kiss with a hunger of my own. "You need a bed," he murmured into my mouth.

"Umm hmm. I’ll need lots of things but I’m fine as long as I have you." Drat. I didn’t want to get serious. Let him work out his issues over Sue Ellen and we’d grow in time.

"You have me, Sassy. Forever." That scared me.

"Did you say that to Sue Ellen too?" Well, that broke the mood. But I had to get this cleared before I could give myself completely to him.

"I never said anything to Sue Ellen. Her father initiated all the expectations and she went along with it just like I did. Sassy, please believe me. I never even said I love you to her. I didn’t. I liked the sex—for a while but that was it." I felt relieved. There wasn’t as much emotional debris as I thought.

"I’m sorry to be so direct about all this but I want us to be clear and keep what we had so we can have more." I wasn’t making sense.

"Sassy, I love you. Just you. I’ve loved you since the first minute I saw you. I thought it was just lust." He chuckled.

"Lust? Why lust?" he’d never come on to me. We’d just become great friends.

"Because I had a hard on you wouldn’t believe. Then you spilled your tea all over my desk and kept apologizing and that sort of dowsed my lust but began my love. I love you, Sassy."

He kissed me ever so gently on the lips and I melted into him.

"I love you, Tom. So much, so very much that for once I don’t have words."

"You’ll find them. I can’t tell you how happy I am that you’re in New York. My frequent flyer miles to Fondis were going to add up."

The doorbell chimed merrily. I grinned, answering my own door in my new city. Oh, I had to let the person in from outside.

"UPS for Sassafras Cambridge," a tall black man said.

"Thank you. I am she." He wheeled a dolly in with two huge boxes.

"I’ll be back with three more," he said.

Tom and I looked at each other and shrugged. The three boxes were varying sizes, large and larger.

"Please sign here."

"Thank you." I noticed the return address said "Fondis Research Institute" with a Manhattan address. Tom helped me open them and unload the computer and a desk. I’d glanced at the envelope Danny Boy had given me and found not only paper work but floppies and CDs. I was in business.

The doorbell rang again and I buzzed the person in. The telephone man installed two new lines that he said were high security. When he left, Tom caught me up for another kiss. We needed to go bed shopping.

The doorbell rang again and we laughed. I pushed the buzzer and grabbed another kiss.
"Hey, you two. Time for a picnic," called out Wellington. I really didn’t think they’d make it here for lunch.

"Just as I thought," said Victoria. "I knew a picnic would be perfect." She spread a checkered table cloth on the living room floor and Wellington began to set out a feast of crackers, cheese, sliced turkey, bologne, pepperoni and condiments.

"And these," Victoria said, setting out lovely wine glasses. She poured sparkling cider in each glass.

We sat in a circle, smiling.

"A toast," said Wellington, lifting his glass. "To success in all our new ventures." We drank to that.

"We want to tell you about our new venture," he continued. "I just accepted a position with the history channel. Victoria is going to be my research assistant." They beamed at each other.
"Wonderful, Vic. You’re really ready for a change too. Where are you going to live?"

"I haven’t figured that out yet." She couldn’t wipe the smile off her face as she shrugged.

"There’s an extra bedroom here. As long as you don’t mind Spook. He’s coming on a special carrier. I hope he’s not too spooked." I gave a worried smile.

"Spook?" asked Wellington.

"Sassy’s cat."

"Lovely. We could do a special on the history of cats. Do you know in Egypt…" the doorbell rang. I buzzed the outside door.

"Sassafras Cambridge?" I nodded. "For you, special delivery from Pets First, the finest travel accommodations for your four legged loved ones." He bowed and handed me a cat crate. Spook yowled.

"Welcome home, kitty cat." When the door was closed, I opened his crate and he sped out, eyeing us with contempt. Then he began to explore.

"Priority over bed. Cat box," I announced. Tom nodded.

"Do you want to live here, Vic? I’d like the company. I think you’re going to be on the road some but I may also. It would be good for Spook if two of us lived here."

"I’m in." We hugged each other and kissed.

"You know what Deirdre always says?" She shook her head.

"It’s all good."

"It is. It’s all good."

THE END

Copyright2004C.J.Prince

Entry 55

2004-11-29T16:50:00.000-08:00

I stretched, shouldered my backpack and inched my way off the airplane, tired and achy after the long flight. There would be no one to meet me. I’d rushed off half cocked once again. Maybe I could find a shuttle or take a cab as a last resort.

I waited at the baggage claim for my new forest green suitcases, now marked with duct tape for easy identity. Not very classy but very practical. They were taking a long time unloading. I unclipped my cell phone from my front pocket, pushed a button and spoke: "Victoria" and it automatically dialed.

She answered right away.

"Hi, Vic. Where are you?" I saw one of my bags coming around the conveyor.

"Right behind you."

A hand grabbed my well marked suitcase. Fuck.

"What?"

"I’m right behind you. Turn around."

I spun not trusting what I’d heard and Victoria grabbed me, laughing. Tom hauled my other suitcase out of the passing baggage. I grabbed him, so glad I hadn’t cursed him.

"How? How did you know I was here? When did you get in?" I sighed and almost cried.

"Surprise." Tom wrapped his arms around me, tight. "We’ve been here for an hour or so. When I couldn’t get ahold of you, I called Johnni and she gave me your flight number You were already in the air. God, you smell great." He kissed me again and turned to pick up my bags. Wellington was heading for the door with both of them, Victoria tagging along.

"This is most serendipitous. I didn’t know how I was going to get to Forest Hills, or even where it is if the taxi driver took a wrong turn, how would I know. Oh, Tom, I’ve missed you." I was almost in tears again. This is not like me. I don’t like to show emotion and especially in a public place and not like this with someone I really care about. Jeez, I guess all those tears are just lodged in there somewhere waiting to leak out. Tom leaned down and kissed one that did.

"Wellington called a friend who is going to pick us up. He was on the phone with him when we saw you." We exited the airport and saw Wellington flag down a Subaru. He introduced us to his friend Fergus and we managed to all jam in the vehicle, Wellington in front and the three of us in the back seat.

"Victoria, you look great." She was sparkling with energy and looked more content than I’d seen in ages.

"I am. Wait ‘til I tell you everything. But later. What’s this Tom tells me about you? You’re moving to New York? Really?"

"Really. It is all happening very fast. Time gets all mixed up—sometimes it’s dragging and slow and the clock won’t move and other times, like this, I’m in some kind of warp speed and can hardly see what’s passing by."

"I know what you mean. Are you going to your new place tonight?"

"Yes. Want to stay with me?"

"Don’t you want Tom to stay with you?" We both looked at him and he gave me a sexy look.

"Maybe that’s a better idea. Where will you stay?"

"Oh, I can stay at Wellington’s. It’s okay." Her smile was innocent but had me wondering.

"Wait until I show you the yarn I spun! It is so much fun, Sassy. I’ll teach you how. I’m going to buy a spinning wheel as soon as I settle someplace." I thought she was settled in her condo in Fondis. More was up than met the eye.

"Fergus knows a good Palestinian restaurant on our way home. Anybody hungry?" Wellington asked.

"Yes," we replied in unison. I figured after airline food, we must all be famished.

By the time we ate and got to Tom and Wellington’s apartment, it was close to midnight.

"Sassy, why don’t you stay the night here. I’ll take you to your new place in the morning and you can get settled in daylight," Tom urged.

"I’m not hard to convince. I’m exhausted and my curiosity is already asleep."

Tom grinned at me. "I have tomorrow off so we can spend the day together. If you’d like."

"I’d like." I leaned against him, my eyes closed.

Wellington and Victoria were talking about the history of spinning and the fiber arts. We followed them into the building and I felt comfortable and familiar with the procedure of opening the outer door and then the double locks on the apartment door.

"You two are both such history buffs," I said.

"Sassy, did you know that Fondis used to be a coal mining area in the 1800s? There were lots of underground mines. I found this book at the library in Ohio, if you can imagine." We were all laughing but I suddenly realized that the Fondis Research Institute probably got its start by converting mining tunnels. Interesting. I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to write the story.
Tom and I went directly to bed, too tired to fondle and fell asleep wrapped in each others arms.

Entry 53

2004-11-29T13:59:00.000-08:00

I don’t really know how to be a lounge lizard but I tried it for about an hour. By then I was so restless I think I was bothering the dog who was trying to follow me. I pulled on my hiking boots and the new down parka, and found a lovely pair of ski gloves in my suitcase. Bran’s leash was hanging by the back door, so I snagged it and stuffed it in my pocket.

The driveway was thick with snow so I went back in the garage and found a grain scoop, the perfect snow shovel. I shoveled the walk to the front door and then the driveway. I built up a sweat in my pits but my nose was freezing.

Bran followed me as I opened and closed the security gate and we wandered along the road looking at the gigantic new houses where CEOs and other high end income folk had settled. If I heard a car, I’d put Bran on his leash but otherwise he was free to roam. He never went far and came back to check on me. Johnni was lucky to have such a great dog.

The snow passed and sunshine broke through. Layers of snow tumbled out of pine trees. A flicker pestered a wooden fence for some unseen treat. By the time we headed back, I was an icicle and ready to start up the fire again.

Ditching my wet clothing in the laundry room, I started a fire in the wood burning stove and decided a warm shower was in order. There must be a furnace somewhere in this massive home because it never gets too cold inside. Dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, I stretched out on the sofa with my book and soon dozed off. The next thing I heard was the garage door opening and closing.

"Hi, Johnni. Let me carry something." I hurried to grab a bag or two as she struggled in.

"So you met Antonio. I told him if he didn’t take care of the drive next time, he was fired." She set paper bags on the counter.

"Antonio? No."

"The handyman who shoveled the drive. You didn’t see him when he was here?"

"I didn’t see Antonio. No. I shoveled the walk and the driveway."

"Damn. He’s Marcella’s nephew and I was giving him a third chance. He’s totally unreliable." I raised an eyebrow in question.

"Marcella is my housekeeper."

"I didn’t mean to take his job away from him. I just figured it needed to be done and I had the energy. Sorry, Johnni."

"Not your fault. Here, help me get these things in the fridge. I picked up linguine with alfredo sauce, salad and French bread for dinner. And a few things at the supermarket." She began separating things on the counter and I helped. The doorbell rang.

"Can you get it?" Johnni was opening a can of dog food and Bran was paying rapt attention.
"Sure." I pulled open the stained glass door and was surprised.

"Deirdre, come in." I didn’t know she was going to be here. I was actually glad to see her. I’d been a bit abrupt last time.

"Sassy, I came to give you a goodbye reading. And because Johnni asked me to dinner." She lowered her voice. "It’s my first time here. Wow. Pretty nice, huh?"

"Uh huh," Johnni said from behind her back. "Glad you could make it, Deirdre. Dinner’s all ready. Come sit. Sassy, light the candles."

After small talk and food praise, Johnni said "I think it’s time I had the women’s group up here. I heard what you said when you came in, Deirdre. I know I don’t go all the time because of my schedule but the women in that group are more important than all the contacts I make. I don’t want to be so inaccessible. The gathering for Maggie meant a lot to me."

"Wonderful, Johnni. I’ll bring it up next week. Will you still be here, Sassy?"

"No. I booked a flight out tomorrow."

"So soon."

"So soon."

Johnni didn’t say anything, just nodded.

"I’ll clear the table," I said. Nope. I didn’t want a going away party, that was for certain. This was enough to deal with right here.

"Let me help," said Deirdre, "and then we can do a spread for you."

"Sure." It was her thing. Why not?

Deirdre shuffled a deck I’d never seen before. I wondered how many she had. She blew through them, cut the deck and laid out three cards. Johnni served tea and sat down to listen.
"This card indicates who you are at this point in time. In the Three of Wands, I see a balanced beginning as you seek your future. There is strength here and the ability to grapple with whatever the future holds for you. You have the tools you need. You will be very successful in your new venture." She paused. "There is a new venture, yes?"

"Yes." I didn’t want to feed her the answers. So far, the reading seemed right on but I didn’t want to tell her that either.

"The Magician is here. He shows you that you can succeed in anything you wish to pursue. You have all the tools. The Magician invites you to be clear in your goals and pull your desires into the physical realm." Say the word desire and I think about Tom. "There is originality, creativity and great imagination available. All the elements are at your disposal. Use them wisely for the greatest good. You are your own magician." I had to admit Deirdre was good.

"This card tells you the results. The Ace of Cups, a most auspicious card. There is bounty here, joy and abundance, fulfillment, faithfulness and beneficial outcomes in all your pursuits. I see emotional renewal, spiritual nourishment. It also can refer back to the other two cards as the beginning of a creative enterprise." She picked up the card and seemed to be looking through it. "There are the stirrings of the heart, the tenderness of falling in love, of reviving an old relationship. This is a very powerful card for you. Remember its image and call it to mind when you need a sense of emotional well being."

"Who needs a newspaper? Maybe we just say someone’s name, draw a few cards and write the story." Johnni chuckled and got up from the table, returning shortly with chocolate ice cream smothered in hot fudge. I loved her.

"Any questions?" Deirdre asked.

"It all sounds pretty good. Thanks. I’ve always heard you shouldn’t receive a reading if you don’t cross the palm of the reader with silver." I slipped off the silver dolphin ring I always wore and handed it to Deirdre.

"No, I couldn’t," Deirdre said.

"Of course you could. You gave me a gift. I’m giving you one." I was sounding as abrupt as Johnni usually did. My mentor.

"Thank you, Sassy. I forget how important it is to receive. I’m better at the giving side." She dropped her eyes which glistened with tears.

"All women are," snapped Johnni and went back to the kitchen to get a dog bone for Bran.

Entry 52

2004-11-29T10:41:00.000-08:00

Snow fell in tiny balls like homeopathic pellets outside the floor-to-ceiling windows of my bedroom. I closed my eyes and opened them again when Bran touched my face with a cold nose.

"Hi, Sweet Puppy." Some puppy. A hundred pounds of solid wolf-like canine.

I stretched and climbed out of bed, shuffling to the toilet. Bran followed me. I brushed my teeth and allowed myself the luxury of going back to bed. Snuggling under the covers, I watched the snow fall. Bran looked at me expectantly. Maybe he had to go out.

My cell phone rang "Jingle Bells."

"Good Morning." How cheery could I be?

"Hi, Sassy. Victoria."

"Hi, Sweet Pea. Where are you? How are you?" I’d left a message for her yesterday and was glad to hear her voice.

"Oh, Sass, you won’t believe what I just did."

"Probably not. What?"

"I milked a goat! A beautiful big Nubian goat and we’re going to make goat cheese later. Can you believe it?"

I laughed. "Hardly. We’re both doing things differently than we’ve ever done them. Where are you?"

"I’m staying at Grania’s farmhouse. Grania is Wellington’s sister. She’s great. You’ll love her. Same bright red hair and the same accent. I’m having so much fun. Wellington is working most of the time so I don’t see him. I think he and Tom hooked up and are covering different aspects of the same story. Anyway, I took out my knitting last night and so did Grania. We both were knitting. It was so comfortable." I didn’t want to interrupt her to tell her that Johnni and I had both being doing hand work too. No coincidences, Deirdre always says.

"I’m so glad you’re having a good time, Vic."

"And wait ‘til you hear this. Grania knows how to spin. She’s going to teach me to spin yarn and then I can knit it. She has a wonderful old fashioned looking wheel. There’s just so much to see and do here." Her enthusiasm was infectious. I smiled and got out of bed, opening the door for Bran. He ran downstairs and I followed. I let him out into the snow. I didn’t think I had to go with him. Johnni had a security fence all the way around her property.

"Sounds like a lot of work to get a skein of yarn," I said.

"No. I don’t think so. Grania has sheep and she spins the wool and was making a beautiful pair of socks for her husband for Christmas. Oh, watch out, get out of here you silly rooster." Her voice was shrill and alarmed.

"Sass, I think I’m being attacked. I’m sitting here in the barn, whoa, no," she shouted. "on a stack of hay and—now I’m climbing up a few bales. Damn, rooster, get out of her. He’s flying at me and--ouch. Sass, I’ll call you back." She hung up.

I chuckled, seeing her climbing a stack of hay to escape an attack rooster. They can be nasty. I’ve interviewed a few of them over the years. I know. It was great to hear her voice so upbeat, so engaged in life, and learning new things.

I found a grapefruit cut in half and each section perfectly cut. A note from Johnni told me to make myself at home and that there were eggs in the frig or cereal in the cupboard. I ate the tart grapefruit and thought about Tom. I hadn’t called him yesterday, not wanting to interrupt him if he was on assignment. But I really wanted to hear his voice. I could call and just leave him a message.

"Tom," I said, loving voice activated cell phones. The number rang.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Tom. Is this an okay time to call?"

"Sassy, I’m so glad to hear your voice. In the last minute dash, I forgot to get your new cell number. Yes, Sweetheart, it’s a perfect time to call." I hate to get mushy but I really love it when he calls me "Sweetheart."

"How’s it going? How long will you be there?"

"I’m flying back tomorrow. Tonight I’m going with Wellington out to his sister’s house for dinner. I guess Victoria is having a good time," he said.

"Yes. I talked to her and she sounds great."

"Sassy, I was wondering how we can be together for Christmas. Would you like that?" Would I—anytime we could be together I’d like. I smiled.

"I’d like that a lot, Tom. Let me give you a capsule version of what’s happening with me. First, I’m moving to New York."

"My dreams are coming true. When? Where? Why?"

"You sound like a reporter. Johnni released me, that’s what she called it, so I could go to work for the Fondis Research Institute and they want me based in New York City. Is that wonderful or what?!"

"It’s wonderful," his voice was deep and sexy.

"Tom, is Forest Hills near where you live in Astoria?"

"Close enough. Why?"

"Well, that’s where my new apartment is," I said.

"What? You have an apartment already? Sassy, that’s great. I was hoping you’d stay with me a little longer but I’m glad you’re moving into my neighborhood, so to speak." I could hear a smile in his voice.

"Me too. It’s a long story. You’re breaking up. I can’t hear you. Bye, Dearheart. Talk to you later." He couldn’t hear that last part I’m sure. Whoopee. The reality of it was coming into my mind like a bright light.

I made a cup of Chai and watched the snow falling. The pad of lined paper in front of me sat blank. I really needed to make a list but daydreams filtered through and I let them wander.
Bran barked once at the dining room door and I let him in. "Let me find a towel for your paws, big boy," I said, hurrying to the bathroom and grabbing a hand towel. Of course he followed me so the snow tracked across the dark green carpet. I rubbed down his back and put the towel in the laundry room.

"Bran, come help me. I have to make a list," I sat back down at the table. I needed to make a flight reservation to La Guardia; find a service that would deliver my car to New York. I didn’t want to drive it back at this time of year. I had to decide if I was going to try to see everyone before I left or if I was just going to disappear. I didn’t want all the emotions jangling about if I were to see everyone. But I also didn’t want to disappear. I opened the cookie jar and took out a dog biscuit.

"Good boy."

Then I dialed Johnni’s office.

"Yes," she barked. I was going to miss her.

"Johnni, I have an idea. What if I write a weekly column from New York –for the Fondis Daily--but make it local in reference? Then I can stay in touch with home."

"Not a bad idea. Let me think about it. When are you leaving?"

"As soon as I can make a reservation."

"Talk to you tonight. I’ll bring something home. Just relax." She hung up.

Entry 51

2004-11-29T10:04:00.000-08:00

I opened my car door and slid in, feeling for the key under the mat where I always kept it. At least one thing was familiar in my life: my car. I never locked it. It was such an old clunker that no one would want it. I might have to change my patterns in New York City. Deirdre had shoved my bags in the back seat.

I drove around the square and headed west through the hills and up to the top of the ridge to Johnni’s house. Surrounded by ponderosa pine trees, the panels of glass reflected the surroundings. I punched the code at the gate and it swung open, closing automatically when I drove through.

Bran, Johnni’s German shepherd came bounding down the gravel path that led to the paved driveway, barking and snarling. Shit. I’d forgotten about Bran. I just hoped he would remember me. I pulled up on the side of the garage. The dog barked outside my window. I rolled it down a few inches.

"Hi, Bran. I’m your mom’s guest. I’m here to spend the night." He’d probably smell cat on me and go into more hysterics. I used to keep dog bones in my car for situations just like this when I was going to interview someone who had a surprise dog greeting me. I looked around the car, on the floor and in the backseat. The fix up job had included a clean up. Oh well. Here goes.

I eased the door open. "Bran, come." I tried to sound in charge and not quiver. I put my hand out, palm down. He sniffed it. His tail wagged. I let out the breath I’d been holding. "Good dog. Help me get my stuff in the house, okay? I have a key." I just kept talking to him and he followed me into the house. Johnni told me my room was upstairs on the left so I lugged a suitcase up and wondered which room on the left. Bran nosed a door and I opened it. My room, I figured. It was clean and unadorned except for one oil painting of a dog that looked like Bran. I wondered if he sat for the portrait or maybe the artist just looked at a picture.

"You’re very handsome, Bran. Is this my room?" He sniffed all the corners, the sea foam silk bed cover and walked to another door. I followed him and opened it. The bathroom.
"Sweet. You’re a good host, Bran. Thank you. I could go swimming in that tub it’s so big." I headed back to the car and my other suitcase and backpack. Bran became my constant companion, following much closer than Danny Boy did.

I soaked in the circular tub, turning on the jets to ease the soreness in my back. Bran watched me for a while and settled next to the tub. I pulled on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt and climbed under the covers for a quick nap. I think Bran would have joined me on the bed, but I didn’t encourage it. Johnni probably had her rules. He slept next to the bed. It was dark when I awoke. I ran my hands through my short curls and walked downstairs, Bran at my heels.
Johnni had set the table and lit candles. I followed my nose to the kitchen.

"Hi, Johnni. I just woke up."

"I figured. I see you and Bran made friends." She smiled, something I’d rarely seen. I was feeling better about staying with her.

"He’s a great dog," I said, rubbing his ears.

"We’re having Chinese take out. I don’t have much time to cook. Hope you like Moo Goo Gai Pan."

"One of my favorites."

"Wine?"

"No thanks. I’ve sworn off."

"Me too. I’ll make some green tea."

We settled at the dining room table, Bran between us. The lights of Fondis twinkled through the pine trees.

I picked up my chop sticks and began to eat.

"What do you think, Sassy?" Johnni asked.

"Cool place."

"Anything else?"

"I like you, Johnni. I didn’t think I did." Wow, I was being more honest than I liked.

"Good. You have to have an edge, Sassy. You have to feel the edge, like you’ve felt mine. And then see what’s behind it. You know what Graham Green said?"

I shook my head which held no quotes at the moment.

"Every novelist must have a shard of ice inside that takes notes when others weep."

"Wow. Great. Journalists are like novelists in a way. I have to write that down." I pulled a small spiral notebook out of my backpack and jotted it down.

"You have that, Sassy. You just didn’t know it until recently. So you didn’t like it in me when you saw it. You’ll need it as you continue on your new path." Now she was talking like Dr. O. Everybody was getting mixed up with someone else’s traits. Were we all so alike underneath?
I cleared the dishes when we finished and retrieved my knitting from my backpack. Johnni pulled out a counted cross stitch of a German shepherd, something I never thought I’d see her do, and we chatted like women at a quilting bee a century ago.

Entry 50

2004-11-29T08:59:00.000-08:00

I had to see the remains of my old house so I walked across the square, glad that Deirdre hadn’t waited for me. She was fine but I was in no mood for airy fairy today.

As I stepped into the shadow of the alley, Cassandra swung into step with me. I jumped, expecting the giant not the tiny wise woman.

"Hi, Sassy. Sorry to startle you. I stay out of the main stream most of the time. I knew you’d want to see your old place again." She reached out and squeezed my hand.

"Hi, Cassandra. I understand I have a command appearance before her highness Dr. O." I raised a quizzical eyebrow. She smiled.

"You won’t be disappointed."

Sunshine broke through the clouds, the harsh glance of it revealing the total devastation to what had been my home, a renovated shack that had provided a roof over my head and a sense of my location on the planet. Most of the debris had been cleared. The old picket fence, charred now, tilted wildly. The tree behind the house was a mere stump of memory, no longer the graceful tower where birds perched, no longer the herald of spring with buds bursting forth. A raven landed on the blackened tree stump, swiveled his head and I’m certain he winked at me.
I stood a long time, no longer seeing what had been, just letting memories wash over me until they were gone. It was only a place, a building. Victoria and I were safe. I could go on, would go on.

"You are the phoenix," Cassandra said.

"Yes," I agreed. I was.

"Are you ready for tea with Dr. O?" she asked.

"Yes."

A peacefulness settled over me. The past and the future did not exist. Just this moment standing here with Cassandra. I turned and smiled at her.

Wending my way down the now familiar path, I followed Cassandra, the lithe spirit who moved with faerie swiftness. Jeez, I was sounding more like Deirdre every day. This had to stop. I could lose my job with that kind of thinking.

We entered a back entrance to Esther’s house. I still thought of her as Esther when I looked at the house and remembered the simple story I’d written about her, the inane quotes. She’d used me to continue her cover. But it had been my choice to honor her secret, to allow her request so I could see more. Whenever I could tell the whole story, it would knock the socks off the scientific community. And it looked like I would have that opportunity.

Cassandra led me to the tea room and I settled in front of the fireplace and waited. She left and I warmed my hands, pondering the yin/yang aspects of fire, that which destroys, that which warms and blesses. I figured everything was like that, everything had its polar opposite. Most of the time we danced in the gray between the extremes.

Cassandra returned carrying a plate of scones. Dr. O was on her heels with the tea tray, the pot tipping precariously. Cerridwen carried the bone china tea cups.

"Where’s Danny Boy?" I asked, missing my faithful shadow.

"Vacation, Sassy," Dr. O answered.

I stared at the two women, their resemblance having stumbled through my mind several times.
"You know my sister Cerridwen?" Dr. O chuckled. "She’s the spiritual one in the family; I’m the scientist."

A sweet meow came from the doorway and Spook pushed his head into the room.

"Spook baby," I cried. He walked haughtily into the room, turned his back on me and twitched his tail. "Silly kitten, don’t be angry with me."

He rubbed against Cassandra’s ankles, wound his way around Cerridwen, purred at Dr. O and finally circled my feet, scolding me in a high pitch. At last he rubbed my ankle and I sank back to the floor waiting for him to make the next move. He jumped into my lap, kneading and purring loudly. "Spook, kitty, I’ve missed you." I scratched behind his ears.

Cassandra served tea and passed me a plate with a scone, butter on the side.

"Johnni told you about our offer?" Dr. O asked.

"Yes. I’m not sure I understand what you want me to do," I didn’t want to sound too eager but I was beginning to like the idea. I wondered how Spook would like the big city.

"We need a professional journalist topside to begin to make our presence known. You will begin with simple press releases to various scientific journals and major newspapers. It will appear that you are a freelance journalist interested in cancer cures and the advancements of stem cell research. We also know that you want to move to New York City. That will benefit us by not having you here in Fondis. It will appear to be a more neutral location. You will need to research other venues and write from a broad base. We will not edit your work. And we will give you facts as they appear appropriate to release to the general public," Dr. O paused, staring off into a future I was just beginning to imagine.

I slathered butter on the scone with a small sterling silver knife and sipped the tea. I felt very mellow as I rubbed Spook’s tummy and wondered what was in the tea.

"Of course you’ll want to know about logistics," Dr. O continued. "While you’re here, you’ll be staying with Johnni. We took the liberty of having your old car worked on. It will be reliable now."

"Where is my car?" So much had happened that I didn’t even know where it was. I’d walked back to my house the night of the fire. Where had I left my car? At the parking lot behind the paper? "What did you fix?" I knew it needed so much work that most people would junk it.
"Your car is parked behind the Fondis Daily News building, just where you left it. It needed a major overhaul. We considered just getting you a new car but we don’t want too much surface change. We must be very considered about all our decisions. Your old car has a new engine, new brakes and we fixed your radio. I assume you won’t object."

I laughed. I could occasionally get NPR through the static. When the weather was right Air America came in. Most of the time it was just annoying noise.

"No. I don’t object. Thanks. What do I owe you?" I’d just have to add it to the stack of bills. But hey, they burned, didn’t they? I wondered who I owed. This wasn’t my strong suit.

"No debt. It is part of a much bigger plan. Now, to living in New York. The standard of living in Fondis has risen every year but it has a long way to go before it reaches New York standards. The Fondis Research Institute owns several buildings in New York City. We have an apartment for you in Queens, one that will appear appropriate for your position and income."

My mind was reeling now. I felt like I was living someone else’s life. I scratched Spook behind the ears and finished off my tea.

"Cassandra?" Dr. O looked to her assistant who glided toward me and sank to her knees, setting a wooden box on the floor by my feet. It had one of those trick secret opening mechanisms that I couldn’t fathom as Cassandra lifted the lid.

"Business cards," Cassandra pointed out. "Check book with your new address and phone number. There are two ground lines, one for fax and internet, high speed, by the way, and one for calls. This is the latest tape recorder, stationery, stapler, all the office supplies you’ll need to start out." Her small hands flew over the compartments, pointing out each detail.

"Your apartment has an underground parking garage so you can actually take your new old vehicle with you. Your rent is covered for a year. We’ll discuss options after that time. You have a year’s salary in your check book. We want you to feel comfortable as you settle and we know you will have to replace many things after the fire. Any questions?" Dr. O gathered up the tea cups and Cassandra carried the tray out of the room.

"Not now. I’m a little overwhelmed."

"Yes, that’s what we figured," Cerridwen said. "Come to the healing room. Esther and I will do an integration session with you."

In a daze I followed them to the solar plant room and settled on a massage table. Dr. O was at my head, Cerridwen, my feet. Cassandra circled us with Tibetan bells chiming. This was a double whammy of energy. Whatever they were doing was lifting me up out of my body. Somewhere Cassandra played a harp and each string zinged into me so I was one with the sound, with the women, with the planet, the cosmos. I hated to admit that I was enjoying this airy fairy stuff. The three of them ended with a round of "Om" and I joined them, floating on our voices.

Entry 49

2004-11-29T08:46:00.000-08:00

I winced as the plane banked and I saw a herd of antelope cross the runway. So far, there’d never been an accident at Fondis International Airport but it always worried me. New ten foot chain link fences were being installed but the project hadn’t been completed. Fortunately their white rumps disappeared before we bumped into a landing. Home. It didn’t feel like it. It felt like drudgery.

I’d go look at the remains of my house again. I would be able to handle it better this time. I felt a strange detachment from all those things that I had so cherished. I was probably a good candidate for Deirdre to latch onto for a visit to the Buddhist Monastery up on the Bijou rim. I wasn’t too interested though.

Speak of the devil. Deirdre was waiting for me at the baggage claim. I was actually glad to see her.

"Hey, Sassy," she said, kissing both my cheeks. "You look rested."

How could I possibly look rested? My best friend had died, well, one of my best friends, my house had burned, my living best friend had almost been murdered, I was in the arms of my beloved but yanked away and my best friend was off to Ohio with a man I didn’t really know and a group of strange scientists were developing unknown cures beneath the streets of Fondis. Oh, yeah. I was rested. Calm, cool and collected.

"Johnni wants me to take you to her office, Sassy," Deirdre said.

"I want a hot fudge sundae first."

Deirdre pulled Johnni’s Lexus SUV into the Fudge Bowl and ordered a large sundae to go for me. This was a big upgrade for Deirdre, donkey to Lexus. It almost made me smile but I was grumpy in general. Close to pissed. Victoria was one up on me. She was claiming her power and I was handing mine out like nuts on a sundae. Shit.

I stomped up the marble steps to the front door of the Fondis Daily News, pushed open the glass door and stormed upstairs. I opened Johnni’s door without knocking and almost ran into the mayor as he was exiting.

"Sassy, you’re back?" Johnni said, stating the obvious.

"Yes. I’m back. Now what the hell is so important." I really shouldn’t be taking this out on her. I was the one who agreed to come back. The hot fudge was swirling in my belly like a shot of gin.

"Sassy, sit down."

I stood—and paced.

"You’re upset." I thought she was a good reporter but at the moment I wasn’t so sure.

"What was so important that I had to fly back immediately?" I glared at her.

"Sassy, you’re a damned good journalist." I knew that. I still liked to hear it. What was she buttering me up for now?

"So?"

"So, I’m releasing you from your position here so you can take the assignment for the Fondis Research Institute." Big whoop. I wondered if that was the name of Dr. O’s underground laboratory.

"What?"

"The FRI is ready to present some of the research data to the general press. They want you based in New York City. You will write all the press releases, handle inquiries and do research there as requested. You may have to fly to Europe occasionally. It was a difficult decision for me to let you go but Dr. O is very persuasive. Now, are you willing to consider this?" She’d moved around the desk and sat on the edge of the armchair.

Pixilated time warp. Fragments of images. Maggie’s face. Dr. O’s research. My laptop. Burned.
"Yes, Johnni," I sighed. "I’m willing to consider it. But why did you bring me back here to send me back to New York?"

"I needed to see you, Sassy. You saw the mayor leaving? He’s just been nominated for Colorado Citizen of the Year. As far as I’m concerned that’s not going to happen. There are lots of good folks out there that deserve a chance at that one. He’s buying the position. You still have those photos?"

"They’re in a safe below ground. Yes. I kinda liked Tabitha. I’m sorry she/he is hanging out with such a slime ball. I’ll get them when I see Dr. O."

Johnni walked behind her desk, a satisfied smirk on her perfect face.

"Good. Now, tell me how Tommy is doing?" Tommy? I didn’t even call him that.

"Uh, fine. He likes his job. He’s on assignment in Ohio right now doing behind the scenes interviews about the election fraud," I said.

"Oh, he’ll like that. Good for him." She’d been so pissed at both of us. Why the conciliatory attitude now?

"Johnni, what’s with you? I thought you were angry with Tom for quitting."

"Oh, sure. I was. I was losing a reliable reporter, and one I liked. And I knew you’d be leaving soon too." She did? "I like to be in control but some things are out of my hands. You two both will move on to much bigger positions than you had here in Fondis. I’m jealous. You are both living out my fantasy. What is it? The big dream we all have: moving to New York and doing the work. Tom has it. You will too. I can’t. I have to stay here. I’m trapped in my management position and there is important news to reveal. Too much has gone unreported in dear little Elbert County. That’s my job now and I’ll see it through. But you and Tom are going for it. I admire that." She dropped her chin and took a deep breath. I’d never seen Johnni so vulnerable. Except maybe the day after Maggie died and I held her breast in a ceremonial way.

"I’m sorry, Johnni. I didn’t know, didn’t realize. You put up a pretty slick front."

"Thank you." She’d pulled it back together and stood, pacing back and forth in front of the window.

"That will be all for now. Dr. O’s team will be in touch with you. You’ll stay with me tonight. Your room is made up and ready. Here’s the key. You know where I live." I remembered her new trophy home where she’d hosted last year’s staff Christmas party. "You good for cash?"

"Yeah. For once. Dr. O took care of that before I went to New York."

"Excellent. That’s what the slush fund is for. Emergencies. Good. See you for dinner at my place around eight."

It was a command but I didn’t balk. I was curious. It would be interesting to get a deeper insight into the hauty boss woman.

Entry 48

2004-11-29T08:35:00.000-08:00

The next morning Tom caught a ride to La Guardia with a friend and I
stared mindlessly at my cell phone, trying to enter numbers and reprogram the ring. I missed him already. Time was squashed up against itself. I had a pixilated sense of days passing but not enough processing.

Wellington and Victoria were pouring over a history book, researching the history of television and the advent of tele-literacy.

My cell phone rang at the same time Wellington’s did. We both answered.

"Hello?" I said, expecting Tom to be calling before his flight took off.

"Sassy. Johnni here. I’ve just been in conference with Dr. O. The coast is clear. That is, Chadwick is in jail for arson and attempted murder. There does not appear to be a conspiracy and it is safe for you and Victoria to come home. How is she doing?" Her voice was abrupt as usual.

"Fine. What happened to my two weeks off?" I queried. I knew I could go back to Fondis but even with Tom off to Ohio, I wasn’t sure I wanted to go home.

"You’ve had a break. I need you back here. Plus there’s another assignment I want you to work on—not one I’m at liberty to discuss on the phone. Let me speak to Victoria." Yes, commander.
"Vic. Phone for you." She looked up from the book and reached for the phone. I watched her monosyllabic answers to Johnni.

"No," she said emphatically and clicked off my phone, handing it back.

"Bitch," she said. Victoria was definitely coming back to life.

"What did she say?"

"Oh, she started bossing me around like she does you. She wants me to fly back tonight with you and act like nothing happened. I’m not going, Sassy. Are you?" She slammed the book shut as Wellington clicked off his phone.

"Well, she still is my boss. I think I have to go. But Vic, I can’t leave you here alone," I said.
"I missed something," Wellington said.

"That was Sassy’s boss, bossing her around once again," snapped Victoria. "And trying to tell me what to do to boot. Cold blooded control freak."

"Well, Sassy, I understand. That was my boss too. I’m headed off to Ohio to do a little nosing around. If I’d known, I’d have booked a flight with Tom."

"We can’t leave Victoria here all alone. Vic, you’ll have to come with me back to Fondis," I said.
"No. I’m not going back." She was vehement. Picking up her knitting, she let her fingers fly across the yarn.

"Victoria, I think Sassy’s right. You can’t stay here alone. You don’t know the city and you don’t know anyone to help you out. Come with me to Ohio. I have a sister there that you can stay with and I’ll show you around at night. Don’t look alarmed. No strings attached. Just a fellow history buff on the heels of another story. Come with me."

Victoria’s frown faded and she looked at me. "I’ll go with Wellington. Call me and let me know when you get to Fondis so I’ll know you’re okay."

We used Wellington’s lap top to schedule all our flights. We were all hurrying around the apartment, packing things, cleaning up. I tried to call Tom but couldn’t get through. Then I thought about Danny Boy.

"I’ll be back in a minute," I said, unlocking the doors and walking toward the pharmacy, looking everywhere for the familiar bulk of the man. Damn. I turned around to head back and almost ran into him.

"Danny Boy, I’m so glad I found you. Look, here’s what’s happening." I filled him in.
"Do you think Victoria will be safe?"

"I do. She was adamant about her choice. I think she’s been giving up her power to too many people. This is a rite of passage for her. She needs to do it alone, without me, without any of the Fondis ties. She feels comfortable with Wellington and not manipulated."

"Okey dokey. I’ll see you back in Fondis. Next time will you go to the Metropolitan Museum?"
I laughed. "Yes. If there is a next time." There had to be. My heart was aching without Tom. I’d be back to see him, one way or another.

Entry 47

2004-11-29T08:29:00.000-08:00

The next morning Wellington fixed breakfast of scrambled eggs and English muffins and we all ate in the living room.

"This is such a pleasure," he said. "Fixing breakfast in my own kitchen for friends. I’m either eating in some dive or taking what’s available in a gritty desert sand hole."

"Glad you’re here, Wellington," Tom said. "I watch the news from the Middle East with reluctance I admit. I always wonder where you are and what your assignment is."

"Unglamorous to say the least. They sent me stateside after the last beheading of a friend and I went a little squirrelly. But let’s not talk about that. Do you have plans for the day?"
Wellington finished the last bite of muffin.

"I’m off to work," Tom said. "Maybe you can give the women a little sight seeing? If they’re up for it today."

"This is my city and I haven’t even been around the corner for years it seems. I’d love to escort you, if you’d please," he made a mock bow and Victoria and I laughed. I looked to see if she wanted an outing. Her color was better today with a twinkle in her eye.

"I’d like that," she said shyly and glanced at me. I nodded my enthusiasm.

We walked to the train station, upstairs, each buying a two week pass. I couldn’t get mine to swipe and Wellington showed me the right angle and speed. We boarded the train that was above ground here and would dive below the city as we entered Manhattan. We changed trains somewhere beneath the city and I was trying to get my bearings. I liked the gentle rocking of the train, the mass of people all moving along their own paths, intercepting here for a few moments in harmony.

We catch the 1-9 to the South Ferry leaving Alice in Wonderland to ponder reality or delusion. There we board the Staten Island Ferry, a free ride out in the harbor, passing the Statue of Liberty. Danny Boy reads a book across the crowded room. The day is cold but without snow and I go out on the deck to feel the air and the water. I return when I am numb with cold and Victoria and Wellington are deep in conversation about the history of the Statue of Liberty and the implications of the quote about "the tired, the poor, the hungry" and current trends to restrict entry to the U.S.

We exit the ferry but decide to catch the next one back. It is too cold to wander about Staten Island. Wellington buys hot chocolate for us all. We sit and watch people and sip the warm, soothing libation, listening to languages I can’t understand.

Back on the ferry, I relax into the sway of the water, the marvel of it all. We catch the subway north from Whitehall to Cortlandt, coming out at what was the World Trade Center. I have a visceral reaction, an emptiness that hits the pit of my stomach. We walk around, reading the posters of history. Victoria weeps. Tom offers her his handkerchief and tucks her hand into the crook of his elbow.

Back underground. This is my underground time of life, I guess. The subways are more gentle than the swishing speed of the Fondis subterranean travel unit. We get off at Canal Street and come above to street level into the magic of China Town. Crowds of people hurry along the streets. Stores display vegetables I don’t recognize, pressed duck, shrimp and other specialties. We wander, sometimes all holding hands, sometimes, single file, always keeping an eye on each other. I sense Danny Boy and see him across the street pacing us. Nobody pays any attention to the giant man in this setting. Everyone has a place here. I like that.

"Let’s have lunch here," Wellington says. "I haven’t been here for ages but the food was always good." We find an empty table at the Great New York Noodle Town. Wellington’s memory served him well. I ate Chinese broccoli and shrimp fried rice. My taste buds were in heaven.
My cell phone sings. I’ll have to reprogram the ringer when I find time to study the options.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Sweetheart."

"Hi, Tom," I smile and look at Wellington and Victoria but they are talking about the history of fortune cookies.

"I’ll be a little late tonight. How about a late dinner. I’ll bring home falafels from the corner stand if you can wait for a late dinner, that is."

"It sounds great, Tom. We’re just eating lunch, rather late, you can tell, in China Town. It’s so fascinating. I love the variety of New York City."

"I knew you would. Gotta run, Love. See you for dinner. Around eight. Ciao."

I rang off, a smile on my face.

Entry 46

2004-11-29T08:21:00.000-08:00

Tom and I managed to set the tiny table for four, pulling it out from the wall and putting a stool behind the table. I lit candles and put them on the window sill as there was no room on the table. Tom was serving as I headed to the living room to announce dinner.

Wellington and Victoria were stretched out on opposite sides of the floor, building a massive card castle between them. I watched for moments as they balanced cards precariously and laughed when one fell. I hated to interrupt.

"Dinner’s ready if you can pull yourselves away," I said.

"I haven’t built a card house in ages," Wellington said. "Great fun. It should be added to some list for stress reduction. Come, Victoria, I’ll challenge you to a card castle again one day." She began to blow on the card structure in front of her face, toppling it. Wellington laughed and followed suit. Soon all the cards lay in flat disarray. They gathered them quickly and joined us in the kitchen as Tom served plates filled with herbed salmon, diced baked potatoes with rosemary and broccoli in his secret sauce.

"Wine?" Tom asked.

"No thanks," Victoria and I said in unison and smiled at each other. I’d have to tell Tom about my resolve.

"I’ll pass. I’m so tired, I’d probably pass out immediately and miss another one of your fine meals. Tom is the best cook I’ve ever roomed with, and that’s saying a lot."

The candles flickered a soft light, reflecting against the window pane, dashing shadows on our faces as we settled in to enjoy Tom’s creative meal. We had chocolate ice cream for dessert and I was very happy.

"Now, what about sleeping arrangements?" Wellington asked. "I’ll be asleep in my chair soon if I don’t stretch out." I frowned and glanced at Victoria who dropped her eyes to her lap.

"I’ve got it all figured out," Tom said. Good. Tom seemed the only one who had it together in this pitiful group. "The women will sleep in my bed, you take the pull out, Wellington, and I’ll sleep on the air mattress." We all nodded in easy agreement.

"I’ll do the dishes," Victoria volunteered.

"I’ll set up the beds," Wellington said.

"Sassy, would you like to take a walk around the block? Chilly but refreshing."

"I would." I pulled on the new bright green down parka and hiking boots and followed Tom out the door, down the stairs and into the magic of a New York night with snow falling. The chill bit my cheeks after the warmth of the apartment. We walked side by side for a while, hands in our pockets.

"You okay, Sassy?" Tom asked.

"Define your terms." I laughed. "I’m as okay as I can be, Tom. Thank you for everything. It’s going to take me a while to sort everything out and feel normal again. Just being with you helps me feel like things will turn out okay."

"You know I feel so much better having you here. So many weird things were happening in Fondis that I was getting worried, thinking I’d have to go back there some how. I really like my job. I feel like I have so much to tell you, little things like we used to share when our desks were next to each other. Now the world is upside down and we haven’t had time for much."

"I know. I miss that too. I don’t even know what I’m going to do, Tom. Johnni told me to take two weeks off and then she extended it. Is it okay if I stay two weeks here? Are we going to be okay? With Victoria here and everything? And I don’t know how long Wellington is going to stay." I was rambling. We made a right. Snow furled across the street light.

"That’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about. I leave in two days to go to Ohio to cover the recount. They have regular reporters doing the headline stuff. I’m going to get in-depth personal stories that bring the numbers into reality. I’m worried about leaving you here but don’t know if you want to go with me. There won’t be anything for you to do there and I’ll be in some Motel 6. What do you think?"

"I think Victoria needs to stay put for a while. And I need to stay with her."

"You’re a good friend, Sassy. I’ve always admired that about you."

"Are you okay with Wellington staying if I’m not here?"

"I am. I was worried about Victoria. But she will be fine. I’ve been watching her closely all evening. It was just that initial shock that pushed her into over reaction." I hoped I was right.
"Let’s stop at the pharmacy to pick up some milk for breakfast," he said. It felt warm inside and the snow melted from our coats. Tom paid for the milk and we stepped back into winter wonderland. I peered through the curtain of white, sensing the bulk of a large man across the street. Tom headed to the right to continue our walk around the block.

"Tom, wait. This way." I saw him look questioningly at me but headed across the street when the light turned green.

Danny Boy, collecting snow around the bulk of him, watched me come closer. I didn’t know if I was supposed to pretend he wasn’t there or what. But fuck it. I wanted Tom to know as much as he could. That would make me feel safer. And Danny Boy needed to know Tom. That’s what I figured as I broke away from Tom and ran to embrace Danny Boy.

He lifted me off my feet and hugged me. I turned and introduced the two men. Danny Boy dwarfed Tom who was a tall man.

"Danny Boy, I don’t like you being out in the snow. I’m okay," I said.

"And what about you bein’ out in the snow, little one?" I couldn’t argue.

We told Danny Boy what was happening, about Wellington, about Tom going to Ohio.
"Thanks for letting me know, Sassy. You take care. Remember you can call me on my cell if you’re in a bind." I could? I didn’t remember that. His number was probably pre-programmed on the new cell phone.

"Thanks."

"Good to meet you, Daniel."

"Likewise. Take care of this one." Danny Boy tapped my soggy cap.

"I intend to." We turned and continued our walk.

Wellington’s snores welcomed us as we let ourselves back into the apartment. The bedroom light was out so I knew Victoria was asleep also.

Tom and I sat at the kitchen table, re-lighting candles.

"Sassy, there’s no good time to tell you this but I want to be upfront with you about everything."

Uh oh. What was coming? "Truth is better than ignorance. That’s why we’re reporters," I said lightly.

"Sue Ellen called."

Fuck. I knew we had to get to this sooner or later, that I was the rebound queen and I’d be left out in the cold once more. I saw anguish on Tom’s face and figured only the worse would come. How could I get myself in the mindset of just being his good friend, the one who he confided in, who helped him with his problems? How had I allowed myself to imagine we might have more?

"And…"

"You know she married Jonathan Brightman shortly after we broke up?" I remembered her daddy’s stooge stepping up to take Tom’s place.

"Well, it’s not working out." Of course not. Nobody could work it out with that control freak Sue Ellen. "Sue Ellen is filing for a divorce and wanted me to move back to Fondis and be with her," he continued. Why hadn’t I seen the handwriting on the wall?

"Tom, you know I always want the best for you. I don’t always know what that is and I don’t always agree with what you think that is. But I will do my best to always honor your choices. I don’t want to lose you as a friend." What a high falutin speech for someone who wanted to scream and cry and hold onto him. But I didn’t want a relationship that had been manipulated into existence. I only wanted him if we both came together of our own will.

"Sassy, I don’t want Sue Ellen. I feel sorry for her. Her life is a mess," he said. He was so damned compassionate. He didn’t want her? What did that mean? What did that portend for us?

"What do you want? What are you going to do?"

"I’m not moving back to Fondis, Sassy. Sue Ellen makes her own life a mess. She needs counseling. I told her so. She was furious. I doubt if I’ll hear from her again." Hey, there was good news in this conversation.

"What I’m going to do is my job. I love it here, Sass. I love my job. And what do I want? Could I ask for more? Yes. I could. I don’t have a right too but I will. I want us to have a chance to figure out if we have more than suppressed infatuation. I think we do. You have a lot to process. A lot to go through. What I want," he paused, entirely too long, and then continued, "What I want is you. Free and clear of any strings or inhibitions or ramifications of the past. I’m willing to wait for that. For you. At that point, we’ll figure out what we want."

I didn’t know I was crying until he wiped a tear and took me in his arms and rocked me. Finally he carried me to bed, settling me gently next to Victoria. I fell sound asleep with hope in my heart once again.

Entry 45

2004-11-28T21:22:00.000-08:00

"How about some music of the season?" Tom asked as we sat on the floor playing cards around the coffee table.

"What season is that?" I asked and meant it.

I noticed that Tom had not turned the TV on since we arrived. The two of us were self confessed news junkies, so I was surprised—and grateful. I was on such a disconnect that I didn’t have a clue what was going on in the world. Or what season it was. Winter, of course, because snow was falling light outside.

"The holiday season." He smiled indulgently at me.

"Oh." A crazy sense of disorientation hit me. Where had I been and what had happened to my reporter’s brain? I guess it was a good thing I’d bought yarn to make him a scarf and hat. A perfect Christmas present.

"Sure. Music will remind us that there is such a season. And it is a holiday to be here," I said. Tom flipped through a case of CDs and put on a Kenny G instrumental.

"Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow," Victoria sang and looked up from casting on the brilliant red yarn. A smile erased the anxiety that hung below her surface. I smiled back. Tom shuffled a deck of cards and we all played rummy, Victoria and I knitting between turns.

Victoria won the first two games. Then Tom won a game. I didn’t care about winning, just about sitting in this cozy space, the steam heat radiator hissing out warmth and I was with the two people I loved most on the earth.

A key turned in the lock and Victoria and I, startled, looked at Tom in alarm. He was on his feet walking casually to the door as a tall man in a snow covered overcoat and wool cap stepped in, and dropped his bags.

"Wellington, great to see you," Tom said.

"I tried to ring you up but my cell was dead." They clapped each other on the back in a hug.
"You’re all wet, man," Tom said, helping Wellington out of his coat and hanging it on a peg. The newcomer pulled off the cap revealing a shock of red hair. When he turned and I saw those piercing blue eyes, I recognized him. How many times had I seen him report from some desperate scene around the world?

"We have company, I see," Wellington said, his Scottish brogue thick with weariness, his smile white and sincere.

Victoria screamed, threw down her knitting and ran to the bathroom.

"Well, me mum always said I was a sight for sore eyes but I must be a sore sight this day. I haven’t slept in twenty two hours. Hope your friend is alright," he sat, sinking into the armchair.

"Wellington, this is Sassy, I’ve told you about her," Tom said.

"Indeed. My pleasure." He stood before I could tell him to stay put and stretched out a large hand. We shook.

"I’m happy to meet you, Wellington. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll see to Victoria. It’s not you. It’s what we’ve been threw recently. I’m sorry." I turned, grabbing my backpack and hurried to the bathroom door. It was locked. I could hear Victoria’s sobs. I knocked quietly.

"Vic, let me in. It’s Sassy." I waited. She finally unlocked the door and I slipped into the tiny bathroom. Victoria sat on the edge of the tub, black mascara tears running down her cheeks.
"I know what it is but I want you to say it out loud," I said in a very detached voice. I just wanted to grab her and hold her but that would come later.

"I’m sorry, Sassy. I can’t help it. The first man I meet since we come here and he has an accent. A beautiful, lovely accent, and a gentle manner," she sobbed and sniffled between words. "I’m afraid, Sassy, so afraid." She was hyperventilating.
I rummaged through the backpack, sorry I hadn’t acquainted myself with all the pockets and zippers. There it was.

"Dr. O said this might happen," I said.

Victoria stopped mid-sob. "She did? What’s happening?" I handed her a wad of toilet paper and she blew her nose, tossing the tissue in the waste paper basket.

"She said something might trigger you, especially a man, and I’m to give you one of these homeopathic pellets." I opened the vial and slipped one under her tongue. "Kinda pisses me off. They can fix your body, they said it would erase your memory of the event, hah, some event, but they can’t erase your cellular memory, or your emotional trigger. Damn."

"Sassy, it’s my fault. Don’t blame them. They all were so nice and helpful." She wiped her nose on her sleeve.

"Yeah. I know." I also knew she would just become part of an experiment and they’d tally her into some computer like another number.

"Cassandra said to rub this on your wrists," I said, opening a one ounce bottle and squeezing a few drops on her wrists. "Now rub them together. Good. Better?" How could she be? Shit.
"Actually, I do feel better. Oh, Sass, I’m so embarrassed." Her hands flew to her face and she hung her head.

"Don’t worry about it, Sweet Pea. I’m sure Mr. Wellington Sinclair is used to much greater traumas than this one. Now, wash your face." She did, dabbing it dry with a hand towel and peering at her image in the mirror.

"I look awful, Sassy," she moaned. I agreed but didn’t say so.

"Here, I have some make up in my backpack." I pulled out the purple leather bag and handed it to her. She repaired her eye make up, dabbed some blush on her cheeks and her swollen eyes disappeared.

"Oh, Sassy, I’m such a fool."

"Not. Come on, you look great. Let’s find out what kind of roommate Tom really has." I hugged her hard and took her hand, opening the bathroom door with the other. The CD player belted out a feisty "What do you get a Wookie for Christmas when he already owns a comb?" I laughed. Victoria smiled. I thanked Tom with my eyes.

"Perhaps we should start over again," Wellington said. "I don’t think you got a proper look at me." He bent over and looked at her between his legs and smiled. She giggled. Good. Everything would be just fine. I wondered how much Tom had told him.

Wellington joined us in a game of cards.

The snowy afternoon light faded and Tom got up to turn on lights and change the music.
"Time to start dinner. Count me out of the next game."

"I’ll help." I glanced at Victoria to see if she’d be okay with Wellington but they were already engaged in talking about the history of the playing card. Tom and I turned to the small kitchen, dancing our bodies against each other as we reached for pots and pans, and a cutting space on the tiny table in front of the long, narrow window looking out on a neighbor’s garden. Life was good again.

Entry 44

2004-11-28T21:06:00.001-08:00

I couldn’t believe we didn’t make love. I awoke, still wrapped in Tom’s arms, a sweet sleep smile on his face. God, I wanted a lot more out of this relationship than I was willing to admit.
I had to pee like a racehorse. I wonder where that expression originated. I think it should be ‘I have to pee like a woman.’ I tried to slip quietly from his embrace and let him have whatever sweet dreams lingered. I reluctantly escaped his arms and edged off the bed. Suddenly he lunged and grabbed me, pulling me back into the warmth of him, laughing.

"I don’t want to let you out of my sight, you beautiful woman." His voice was morning deep and sexy.

"I’m not going far, dearheart. I’ve really got to pee."

"Me too." He laughed. "You first."

Victoria had already tipped the sofa bed back into itself and the living room looked large and comfy. She was writing in her journal. I sat next to her.

"What would you ladies like to do today?" Tom asked, coming out of the bathroom.

"Sightseeing? A walk around the neighborhood? Whatever you wish. I have the day off."

Victoria and I looked at each other. I could see she was still tired, dark circles under her eyes. And I was certainly still out of whack.

"What do you think, Vic? A day at home? Maybe a walk around the block?"

"Really, Sassy? I’d love to do more but I’m just not up for it. Tom? Is that okay with you?"

Tom sat at our feet. "Your pleasure is my pleasure. I would like to take you out to breakfast. There’s a great little place just up the block. Think you’re up for that?"

"Yes," we said in unison. I realized I was famished.

After a breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon and homemade biscuits at a local diner, we walked along the sidewalk, noting people and their dogs.

"I’m still getting used to shopping here. They don’t have big supermarkets like we do in Colorado. So, I’m going to stop at two places to pick up some things for dinner. I’ll be your chef tonight. Fish or chicken." Tom had cooked me many a dinner over the years and it didn’t matter. He always made food come alive with spices and experimentation. I glanced at Victoria.

"Either, Tom," she said.

"We’ll make it easy. Your choice." I slipped my arm through his. We stopped at a small market for salmon and two other shops for various items.

"Oh, look," Victoria said, pointing to a little yarn shop tucked between a hair salon and a vegetable market.

"Let’s go in," Tom suggested but I’d already opened the door. If Victoria started knitting it might help her process the madness of the past month. I spotted a skein of rainbow eyelash yarn and picked it up, its softness glorious in my hand.

Tom settled in a chair, a smile on his face whenever I’d whoop over some lovely color or texture. Victoria and I wandered around and around the tiny shop, finding yarn, needles and accessories of the fiber arts. I swallowed hard when I thought of my collection at home, which no longer existed. My home or my grandmother’s knitting needles. Shit. I picked up a skein of downy soft alpaca, checked the dye lot and bought enough for a scarf and hat for Tom.

Victoria bought a bag full of a bright red cashmere/alpaca blend to make a poncho for herself.

Burdened with bags of food and yarns, we wended our way back to Tom’s apartment.

Entry 43

2004-11-28T21:06:00.000-08:00

While Victoria showered, Tom and I pulled out the pre-made sofa bed which occupied most of the living room. I appreciated his ability to plan ahead even on short notice. We sat sipping tea on the edge of the bed, thighs touching and making small talk until Victoria joined us.

"I hate to be a party pooper but I really need to sleep." She stretched with a yawn and climbed into bed.

"We’ll leave you alone. I’ll turn out the lights. There’s a night light in case you get up and want to move around," Tom said, pointing to the Statue of Liberty nightlight next to the sofa.

"Sleep tight, Sweet Pea," I said, kissing Victoria on the forehead. "We’ll talk more in the morning."

"Night night," she murmured. "I love you, Sass. Thanks for everything."

"I love you too. You’re welcome for everything."

Tom and I finished our tea in his bedroom.

"I’ve met men like Chadwick before," he said. "So charming on the surface that we should all know to be aware. I’m so sorry Victoria was hurt."

"Tom, I think she might have died if it weren’t for Dr. O. I haven’t told you about her. Oh, there’s so much to tell. To backtrack. It’s so complicated. I think nobody knows about it and then I learn that Johnni knows more than I think she does. So let me backtrack and start at the beginning."

Tom nodded and scooted back, propping himself up on a pillow and watching me. I told him the whole story from the beginning. How I felt about everything. I included still being amazed that my long time crush on him was a burning reality. He kissed my nose. Nothing else. He wanted me to finish.

"I can’t believe your house burned, Sassy. My God, you might have been in it. Shit." He shuttered.

"I’m still numb, Tom. There’s too much emotion roiling inside me to get a handle on it. I just want them to lock that jerk up for life."

"That’s all?"

"Yup. You know I don’t believe in capital punishment. Even in this situation. Let him ponder his evil deeds," I said. "Tom, I’ve missed you."

"Me too, you." He nuzzled my neck with kisses and I shivered. "Do you know how long you can stay?"

"I guess until Dr. O or somebody feels it’s safe. Oh, did you understand Victoria in the car? Danny Boy is here. He’ll just be in the background watching over me, over us. You may not even notice him," I said.

"Remember, I’m a reporter too. And now my beloved is in trouble, you don’t think I’ll notice a giant hanging out wherever we go?" He chuckled.

"Yeah. Of course. He’s a really nice guy."

"So am I." He was unzipping my jeans.

I rolled over and turned the light off and melted into his embrace.

Entry 42

2004-11-28T20:53:00.000-08:00

The airbus landed easily and we exited into the crowded airport, shuffling our way along toward baggage. I wondered if Tom would really meet us here. I spotted Victoria’s new suitcases coming off the conveyor belt and helped grab them from the crowd of miscellaneous bags. We waited for mine. And waited. The crowd was thinning. I turned and saw Tom coming through the entrance and waved.

I hurried, not very politely, passing people and threw myself into his arms.

"I’ve been worried about you, Sassy," he said into my ear and kissed it.

"Me too. God, I’m glad to see you." We kissed, that oh-I-want-more kind of kiss when you know you can’t have more. His eyes raked my face, searching. "I’m okay, Tom. And so is Victoria. C’mon. She’s waiting for my luggage."

We walked to his car, a biting wind hurrying us along through the midst of traffic and travelers. Tom pulled two suitcases, Victoria and I, one each.

Freeway traffic was worse than Fondis at sunset. We inched along in the fast lane. I just kept looking at Tom’s wonderful profile. Victoria sat in the back seat, discovering new things in her backpack.

"Look, Sass. Vitamins. I think I could benefit from those when we eat."

"I’m going the long way home and we’ll stop at the best Thai restaurant in New York City." He smiled. I could tell he enjoyed discovering his new home. We’d talked about the city for so long and here he was, living here, working here. I was jealous.

"I borrowed my neighbor’s car to pick you up. It’s too long for a taxi ride and we don’t really need to rent a car. You’ll love the subway, Sassy." I knew I would. I loved everything about New York, even the bogged down traffic jam we were in. Nothing else mattered. I was here with Tom. Life was good.

Victoria tapped me on the shoulder. "Isn’t that…" she pointed to the UPS van next to us, "Danny Boy," she whispered.

I turned and smiled. Yup. "He must have caught a private jet that could accommodate his size. Bless him," I said.

"You don’t think that’s creepy, Sass?" She was still whispering.

"Nope. I think that’s Danny Boy, doing his job, whatever it is. Remember, it’s because of him that you’re safe. Me too."

"I know. I’m not ungrateful. Just freaked on the edges."

"Sassy, I want all of the details later," Tom said.

"Everything. Everything, yes. Later."

Traffic didn’t get any lighter when we got off the freeway and we had to circle around a couple of times when Tom missed a street.

"I’m not used to driving here. My legs are getting really strong from all the walking. I think big city living is very healthy." He smiled at me and parked on a side street below an overhead train. I wanted to check out his strong legs.

"I love New York," I said, taking in the mix of people, the graffiti, the stacked trash, the ambiance, the lure of the yet to be discovered.

"Wait ‘til you really see it, my love," Tom said, sliding an arm around my waist. "Come, Victoria, you’ll love this place too."

We walked several blocks and entered a small, rather ordinary restaurant for the most extraordinary Thai taste treat, Sripraphai. I opted for drunken noodles, Vic for phad thai and Tom for something I couldn’t pronounce. We shared bites and surface stories about our flight. Tom kept looking at each of us as if we might disappear.

The lights of the city at night took my breath away.

"That’s the Chrysler Building over there, the one on the left is the Empire State Building," Tom pointed as we drove home. Home. What a concept. I suddenly remembered I didn’t have one. That made me quiet for a while as we drove to Tom’s apartment in Astoria, also known as Long Island City.

Tom unlocked the front entrance and we hauled our suitcases up to his second floor apartment.

"It’s small but cozy," he forewarned us as he opened two locks and pushed the door open. "A one bedroom that I share with Wellington Sinclair. He’s an on-air reporter. You may have seen him on CNN or MSNBC. Used to be with Fox. I met him years ago when we were both assigned to cover the Pinchot’s reign of terror in Chile. Anyway, he’s mostly abroad so I take the bedroom. When he’s in town, he uses the sofa bed that you can take now Victoria. Make yourselves at home." Tom pulled my suitcases into his bedroom.

It was small but charming. It felt like Tom even though I didn’t recognize some of the stuff which must be Wellington’s. Wow, what a name. He did sound familiar but I couldn’t place him. The polished wood floors shone in the candles that Tom lit. Victoria collapsed on the sofa and stretched out.

"Tea?" Tom asked, heading for the tiny kitchen. I followed him and watched as he filled the kettle and turned on the gas stove. Then I slid my arms around him and held on like it was the most important thing in the world. Because it was.

Entry 41

2004-11-28T20:44:00.000-08:00

The Colorado Springs Airport is my favorite. Smaller than Denver International and much easier to get around. Fondis International is too busy and I run into too many people I know. We saw Dr. Pipkin off at his gate and showed our ID once again to enter our concourse.

We settled at a soup and salad bar near our gate. I had chicken noodle, my all time comfort food, and Victoria had clam chowder. The fresh bread was delicious smothered in slabs of butter.

Victoria looked down at her new outfit. "A shopping spree without having to trek around a mall. Not bad, eh, Sassy?" We both sported new jeans that looked fashionably old, hiking boots, sweatshirts over T-shirts. Our underwear was practical cotton and our socks heavy and warm. We looked remarkably neutral in our fleece hats, our identity as similar to those around us as I could imagine.

Ducky had been a hoot. If she’d been topside, I would have interviewed her in a minute. A peach colored blonde in spike heels and skin tight jeans with a red silk shirt. She’d been a wardrobe designer in Hollywood and circumstances had brought her to Colorado and the Fondis Sub-base. She didn’t elaborate on the circumstances. She’d poked and prodded and had us try on several different outfits that were fun and fantastic. Cassandra cleared her throat and Ducky whisked off the creations and sighed.

"You two have wonderful bodies. How I’d love to fix you up nice but Miss Fussy Pants over there disapproves." Victoria and I had giggled and looked regretfully at Cassandra. "The goal is…?" Ducky rolled her eyes and looked at Cassandra.

"Plain. Normal. Blending in clothes. You know," Cassandra emphasized She gave the wardrobe mistress a stern look.

Apparently Ducky did. She shrugged and opened another closet and began from the surface outward. We turned to the full length mirrors and eyed some rather normal Colorado mountain girls. Fine.

"But I’ll give you a few surprises here," she giggled. I turned from the mirror and saw her packing four suitcases, two red bags for Victoria and two green ones for me.

"And don’t forget these," she handed us each a pair of fashionable sunglasses.

I finished my soup and turned to people watch.

"I wonder what’s in our back packs," Victoria said, unzipping her red leather bag. We’d each been given a driver’s license with current photos. I’d stuffed mine in my jeans pocket. I turned now to Victoria.

"Look, Sassy." She flashed a passport with her name and picture on it. I frowned. She stuffed it quickly back in her bag.

I unzipped my tan backpack and found the same thing.

"Sassy, what’s going on here? Are we in big trouble or what?"

I shook my head. "I don’t really know, Vic. I think everything is going to be fine. I think this…", I glanced around. No one was paying any attention to us, "is just an extra precaution. Let me tell you what Johnni said." I explained.

"So, we could be in trouble. That’s why all this secret escape stuff. We really aren’t safe."

I gazed unseeing at the nearby passengers, at the folks of all races and attire moving toward their own destinies. In the distance I saw a familiar bulk of a man leaning against a pillar reading a paper.

"We’re safe, Vic. Really." I found a romance novel in my backpack. "Let’s go to our gate and catch up on some reading. Probably best to keep our references generic." We hugged as we stood and then found a seat where we could see the flight desk.

I pulled out the dark green leather wallet and looked inside. Five twenties and a hundred. A credit card with my name on it. Dr. O said she’d take care of everything. I was beginning to believe her.

Our flight to JFK on the Red Tail airbus was unremarkable. I watched a movie and Victoria slept.

Entry 40

2004-11-28T20:39:00.000-08:00

I didn’t recognize a number of faces around the conference table as Dr. O settled into the head chair. I figured this was a debriefing and Victoria and I would go topside. Dr. O started out talking to her team in outrageous medical terms and I couldn’t follow. I squeezed Vic’s hand and smiled.

Danny Boy entered a side door and walked toward Dr. O, stooping to whisper in her ear. Dr. O excused herself and stepped outside the room. I hadn’t seen Danny Boy in a while and wondered what he’d been up to. Dr. O returned and took a seat, a stern look on her face.
"Sometimes circumstances dictate our choices. We have a change of plans happening as we speak. I am sorry to be abrupt with you, Sassy. Your house was burned to the ground. We will implement Plan B to guarantee the safety of both you and Victoria."

The shock of her words twisted in my brain. I couldn’t register the reality.

"No. What? What happened?" My house? All my books? "No. Spook, what about Spook?" I was on my feet wanting to run but not being able to, frozen. The door opened again and Danny Boy walked in with Spook nestled in his arms. I ran and threw my arms around Danny Boy, sobbing, and grabbed Spook and hugged him. He purred and then jumped to Danny Boy’s shoulder, like he didn’t want to be too affectionate in front of a group of strangers. I pulled myself together and went back to Victoria who was standing with her mouth open.

"Chadwick recovered from his bout with Danny Boy and retaliated. The sheriff was notified and Chadwick is in jail. For the time being. Pending bail. We need to get you both out of here. Spook can stay with us. He’s found a friend," Dr. O said. I hadn’t noticed the cat that followed Danny Boy into the room.

"Not Fondis International Airport," Cassandra said.

"You’re right. Dr. Pipkin, you’re flying out of Colorado Springs later today, aren’t you?"

The elderly doctor nodded.

"I’ll ask you to accompany our young ladies," Dr. O said.

"No. I want to see it. I don’t believe it." I was frantic.

"You don’t want to see it, Sassy Girl." Danny Boy’s voice rumbled around me.

"Cassandra?" Dr. O turned to the tiny woman who was already at a computer screen and in minutes turned.

"I have them on a flight two hours after Dr. Pipkin leaves. It’s the closest I could book on short notice."

"Fine. That will do."

"But," I began. All these people were making plans for us and not asking us what we wanted. "My house?" At least Spook was going to be okay. "And where are we going? And why can’t we stay here?" My camera bag, my files. Fuck.

Danny Boy left the room and returned with my camera bag. I’m freaking out now. He carried my file folder with all my disks of research and all my negatives and digital files. Whoever he was, he sure as hell was my guardian angel.

"We’ll keep these here in safe keeping, Sassy," his cavernous voice tumbled around my disbelief.

"I still don’t know what’s going on. What about Chadwick? How can he get away with this?" I noticed Dr. O was on the phone. She nodded and waved her hand at me.

"Sassy, come here. It’s for you." She handed me the phone.

"Yes," I said, distrusting.

"Sassy. Johnni here. Don’t panic on me now, girlfriend. We have to handle this with kid gloves. Chadwick is part of a ring. The print shop was a front. You and Victoria just happened to play into his game and he was afraid he’d be revealed. I’m sorry about your house. Danny Boy went back after he rescued you and retrieved your files—and your cat. Don’t ask any more questions. Just go now. You have your cell?"

"Uh huh," I nodded, numb.

"I’ll be in touch." She rang off.

I turned to Victoria and hugged her.

"Where are we going?"

"New York. Tom will meet you," Dr. O said. "Johnni talked to him."

I was still wearing my pajamas. How could I go to New York? All my clothes were ashes. I looked up at Dr. O in despair.

"I know, Sassy. I’ve called Ducky and she’ll be right here to help you."

"Ducky?"

"Temporary wardrobe department, emergency division."

"Oh."

"But Sassy’s house?" Victoria squeaked.

"I have to see it," I tried to sound forceful but I know my voice was pitiful.

***
Victoria insisted on going with me. It was a last minute concession that Dr. O granted when Cassandra discovered that Dr. Pipkins flight had been delayed an hour.

Dressed in old coveralls, Vic and I followed Danny Boy along the path, down by the creek bed and through the brush and grasses to the side road leading to my house. Or what had been my house.

I called it mine like it was a possession but I was just the last renter of a century. It had been old and run down but it was my home. Cheap rent and a cozy haven when the truth of journalistic trekking got me down.

A bitter, acrid stench hit my nostrils before my eyes could focus. There was nothing where there had been something. My home. Victoria slipped her arm around my waist as we stood beneath the old cottonwood behind the back fence, all that was left of my domain. I gagged and staggered behind the tree, vomiting bile. Danny Boy wiped my mouth with his massive handkerchief and ushered us back along the path, away from the debris of my life.

"Aconite. Get the Aconite," Dr. O said as I stepped out of the elevator. She was talking greek again. I just needed, shit, I didn’t know what I needed.

"Aconite is a homeopathic remedy," she explained, reading my mind once again. "It will help. We use it when what we have seen is unacceptable. You will feel better. I didn’t want you to have to go through this but in the long run, it will be best. Open wide and lift your tongue." She slipped a tiny white pellet in my mouth. "Now, off with you to see Ducky."

Entry 39

2004-11-28T20:36:00.000-08:00

Cassandra had been right. I didn’t like the observation room. I didn’t like looking down on Victoria’s seemingly lifeless body being manipulated by a group of masked doctors and assistants. I didn’t understand the machines and tools they were using. But I couldn’t leave. I stood and then sat in a fascinated torpor.

"Sassy, you want to help Victoria, don’t you?"

"God, yes," I croaked.

"Your fear does not help her. She is very in tune with you so she will pick up everything you’re projecting right now. And I’m reading your fear." I frowned. "Do you deny it?" she asked.

"No." I dropped my eyes from the glass panel and turned toward her compassionate face.

"What can I do?"

"Sit or stand. Look at her or close your eyes and imagine her in her healthiest body." I decided to sit and to close my eyes. I remembered a day last summer when we were walking along the lake and started playing, running and playing and laughing. The sunshine glistened off the water and we collapsed in a fit of laughter under a towering pine tree.

"Okay," I said.

"Now send Victoria Reiki energy," Cassandra instructed.

"I don’t know how," I mumbled.

"Just like you did when you sat at her feet. Imagine your hands and the feeling of the energy."
I did. It was there. "Yes."

"Now let the energy flow toward Victoria. You can feel it." I nodded. "Let the energy have a color."

I saw a rainbow coming out of my hands and smiled.

"Let the energy surround Victoria."

I saw a rainbow colored egg around her body, gleaming with pristine jewel like colors, the brightness beyond sunshine.

"Now allow the colors to enter her body."

The colors swirled, each one flowing like a mobius strip, interweaving with each other, entering her body and healing it.

"Excellent. Now just let the energy run. Watch it to see if the patterns shift. It will go where she needs it. When you tire, tell me and I will take over." Cassandra’s musical voice stopped.
The colors danced and sang through Victoria’s body. They swirled and twinkled, spiraled and ribboned. A long time passed and I realized I was tired.

"Your turn, Cassandra." I yawned. I felt her take the rainbow shift. I opened my eyes and stretched out on the inviting sofa, pulling a soft blanket over my body and drifted off to sleep.
Victoria and I were at Haleakala in Hawaii doing an ancient ceremony with Queen Hulala Deirdre. Water spirits spun around us as we swam in the peaceful waters. A dolphin touched my nose with hers and I laughed. The queen called in a giant whale who scooped Victoria up on her back, balancing her, healing her. Victoria and I lay naked on the beach, absorbing the gift of warm from Father Sun. Queen Hulala braided our hair, put fragrant leis around our necks and invited us to the fire dance.

I awoke as Cassandra touched my hand. "Victoria is in her room now. You may see her briefly." I rubbed my eyes and stretched.

Victoria rested in a pale pink room with valanced curtains of roses and daisies on the artificial window looking over an ocean scene. She was in a hospital bed but everything was decorated to look like a comfy home setting. I walked slowly to the side of the bed. Her face showed no bruises. I wanted to pull back the covers to look at her body but hesitated.

"Vic?"

"Umm. Hi, Sass. You’re right. We’re going to be okay."

"Yeah. You look great."

"Good. I don’t know what happened. But I feel good. Sorta like I was down and out but now the sun is shining." She smiled at me. Tears ran down my cheeks.

Cassandra used a step stool and climbed to the other side of the bed.

"You remember Cassandra, Vic?"

"Kinda. Hi."

Cassandra glowed when she smiled. "I’m so happy to meet you formally, Victoria. Sassy’s told me a lot about you."

"Nothing personal, I hope." Victoria laughed and I cried more.

"Nope. Never," I managed a smile.

"Are you hungry?" Cassandra asked.

"Maybe. A little bit."

"Do you have a taste for anything in particular?"

"This may sound weird. I was dreaming about Hawaii and you Sassy—oh, and Deirdre. I’m hungry for papaya."

"Excellent." Cassandra smiled and left the room.

"Oh, Vic, I’m so glad you’re okay."

"Of course I am. I don’t seem to remember much. Thanks for being with me, dear Sassy." She stroked my cheek. "Don’t cry, honey. I’m okay."

"I know. That’s why I’m crying."

"It must have been worse than I think." She wiped a tear.

"It was."

Cassandra returned with fresh, diced papaya.

"This is the best hospital ever," Victoria said. "Hey, why am I in a hospital."

"Sassy will tell you later," Cassandra said and looked at me like I wasn’t supposed to tell her now.

"I remember the time we went to Hawaii," I said. "Walking in the sand and listening to the surf from our room. We had such a good time."

"Umhmm. Remember that handsome Hawaiian singer you went out with a couple of times and I was jealous." Victoria laughed. I frowned. Did we always have these issues with men? Shit.
"Victoria, you need to rest now. Sassy will come back when you wake up. Sleep now, dear girl. I’ll check on you later. I’m going to take Sassy to her room." I didn’t want to leave but I didn’t want to make a fuss and upset Victoria in any way. I kissed Victoria’s cheek and reluctantly followed Cassandra out of the room.

I awoke wondering where I was and the whole mess crashed into my head. Shit. I had to find Victoria, to see if she was really okay. What was a dream? What was real? What was reality, anyway?

A dim light illuminated the stainless steel hallway with a remote glow. I retraced my steps, hoping that I’d found Victoria’s room. I eased the door open—to a broom closet. Damn. It must be the next door. I opened it and looked into the farm fresh pink room with Victoria sleeping peacefully. Closing the door behind me I tiptoed to the bed. She looked great. Her dark hair had grown out into an almost stylish crop and glowed with a healthy sheen. I ran my fingers through my hair, noticing that it had grown also. But I doubted that it looked at all stylish. I felt rumpled and disoriented.

I pulled a chair forward and sat next to Victoria’s bed, my feet propped on a rung under the bed, and closed my eyes. When I finally talked to Tom again I wouldn’t know where to begin. I drifted off.

Entry 38

2004-11-28T20:34:00.000-08:00

"Sassy, come with me," Cassandra’s melodic voice interrupted my misgivings about Victoria leaving with Dr. O, surgical garb, accompanied by two orderlies.

We entered a jungle room, plants blooming everywhere, fronds of green towering over my head. In the midst of the verdant green was a miniature desk and chair.

"This is my office," Cassandra said with a sweep of her hand. I sank unto to an ottoman on the other side of the desk as she settled.

"Sassy, this was all going to happen in a gradual manner."

"This? This what?" Cut to the chase. Whatever she had to tell me could be straight forward. I wanted to get back to Victoria.

"You already know the basics of our laboratory research here. We delve into the impossible. When science says there is no cure, we don’t believe that as an absolute. We often do research that has been outlawed above." I liked that.

"Stem cell research should not be restricted by governmental approval predicated on personal religious beliefs. For several years we have been making significant progress with the assistance of stem cell data and other alternative methods to reduce breast cancer."

"Wow. I wish you’d figured it out before Maggie died." I pursed my lips and took a deep breath. The humidity in the room was perfect. I felt eased by it, my skin nurtured. Colorado above ground was dry and bitter and left me feeling desiccated.

"Me too. Maggie actually helped us a lot. She allowed us to do tests that revealed much information for our research. Dr. O is in the initial stages of dedicating a wing at the hospital in Maggie’s name." I didn’t know what to say.

"I, we, wanted you to have some background. Let me talk to you about Victoria."

"Please. Will she be alright?"

"If anyone can help her, it’s Dr. O and her team. Yes. Victoria will be fine." I felt a wave of relief wash over me. I knew what she said was true.

"Dr. O wanted you to have access to the observation room. I disagreed. You don’t have a medical background; you are highly stressed; you are personally involved with the patient. We don’t do this usually. We don’t take patients from above. We’ve made an exception in Victoria’s case. She wasn’t to be introduced to the program for many months. Circumstances have escalated the plan." I was trying to follow the details. Was I going to be able to be with Victoria?

"Daniel made the judgement call to save you both. There was a stellar alignment with Mars that laid the foundation for many people to act from their lowest point of expression. Victoria was the victim, a role I know she doesn’t like to play."

"What are you going to do to Victoria?" Give me the facts, please. Enough astrology and yada yada.

"Victoria will receive an MRI. The results will tell the team what the next procedure will be. She will be given medication that will allow Dr. O to heal the internal injuries—probably with surgery. We have very advanced laser techniques and other methods of repair. She will not remember any of the procedure, or why she is here. So, back to you. We decided to let you decide. Do you want to go to the observation deck?"

"Of course. I’m a reporter."

"Reporters aren’t always objective about a loved one," she reminded me.

"I want to be there." Fuck objectivity.

"The process will take a long time. I will stay with you and answer any questions you have. Now, take this." She swiveled on her tiny chair, opened a drawer and poured some liquids into a beaker. I balked.

"What is this?"

"This is a fortifier. You are at low ebb. Before you undertake anything else new, I want you take this." She handed me the glass container filled with a golden peach liquid. I sipped cautiously. It tasted like apricots and kiwis.

"Delicious," I said and gulped it down.

"You will need your strength. You are undernourished, over stressed and emotionally distraught." I was not. Who the hell did she think she was? I felt the liquid warm in my belly, swirling out into my arms, legs, hands and feet. Fuck. She was right. I hated to admit it. I needed the little woman at my side as much as I resented it.

She moved around the desk and took my hands. "Take a deep breath, Sassy. You even forget to breathe sometimes." Shut up—but she was right. Damnit.

"Sassy, you’re the strong one, the practical one. That’s how you think of yourself? Yes?"

"Yes."

"It is a good position for you most of the time. But you forget to feel, to find your own emotions, to let them out. It is safe for you to do that here. I sense your resistance. That’s okay too. Just know that we will all respect it." Cassandra’s voice was charming me. I sighed and looked at the serenity in her face. A peace reflected there that I’d never felt.

"Can we go see Victoria now?" I’d deal with my own issues later. Anytime later. Just let Victoria be okay. Even though she looked fine when we were sitting there, I knew she had deep internal problems, both physical and emotional.

I followed Cassandra down endless hallways, right turn, left turn, until I lost my intrinsic sense of direction and felt a panic rising in my chest. I didn’t know how to get out of here. What had I gotten Victoria into, anyway? Would she be okay? What did I really know about any of these people. Could I really trust them? With Victoria’s life? You’re damned right I wanted to watch the procedures. Would I know if they were doing something wrong? If it was all experimental, was Victoria just a guinea pig? What if she sustained serious, life long damage. What the fuck was I doing?

The alternatives rose up in my mind. If we’d stayed in the attic, if Danny Boy hadn’t come along. If Chadwick had come in the house. If he’d found the attic entrance behind my dresser. If he’d come upstairs. Shit. I couldn’t follow it any further. I was afraid. I’m always afraid of men who are quiet and pleasant on the surface and you don’t know what’s brewing underneath. Well, women too for that matter but I tend to read women easier than men. He had a rage on when he attacked Victoria. Who knows what he would have done with the two of us.
And what was that weird thing Victoria said? That everyone knew we were lesbians? Too weird. I think this dude doesn’t know what he’s hearing. He probably thinks the whole lot of us in the Bosom Buddy’s Group are gay. That almost made me laugh. It was a support group for women with breast cancer. Victoria, Maggie and I learned a lot in that group.

No, I had to admit that following Danny Boy’s lead was the best choice. He hadn’t let me down before. He seemed to always know when I was in trouble. And now when Victoria was in trouble. Too bad he didn’t get there before Chadwick went bezerk. Fuck.

Entry 37

2004-11-28T20:31:00.000-08:00

Clad in a soft pink velour robe, Victoria sat in a winged backed chair of floral tapestry upholstery, sipping chamomile tea with honey. She looked as normal as she had yesterday—except for the bruising on her face.

"Victoria, we need to know what happened. What you were feeling. Who did this to you? We need all the details. I want to do several testing procedures that will require you to be out. The process will obscure these memories so you must speak them first out loud and release them with words. Then we can heal your body," Dr. O said.

I thought she was leaving something out but I didn’t say anything. I wanted to hear Victoria’s story as much as Dr. O did.

Victoria looked at me and then Dr. O and actually blushed. "I don’t know you, Doctor. I admit to feeling embarrassed." Victoria dropped her gaze and took a sip of tea.

"Would you be more comfortable if I left, if you told Sassy?"

Victoria nodded and looked at me again.

"Do we have your permission to listen? It will help the medical analysis and our ability to heal you."

"Okay."

Dr. O left the room. I was certain the mirror was a two way job and that the comfy room was miked. Clever interrogation room.

"You okay, Vic?"

"Yeah. But it was horrible, Sassy. I can’t believe I got myself involved with such a freak. It started that night we dropped you off at the paper. He wanted to come back and pick you up so the three of us could have sex. I thought he was kidding. Until later. Oh, God, I was such a fool." She sank her head to her hands.

This was not where I thought it would be going. "That’s weird, Vic."

"He said everybody knew about us. I asked what that meant. He said we were sleeping together and he’d heard about us. Then we took him to the Strip Strap Club. He drew some incorrect conclusions. I tried to set him straight, tell him the truth. He wouldn’t listen. He called me a slut and a whore."

"And he beat you. Bastard."

"Not then. He just verbally abused me then but I didn’t see the pattern. I was still buying his phony politeness around town. Don’t ask me why. Everybody likes him, says how lucky I am to be dating him. Hah!"

"Yeah. My grandmother called them street angels, house devils. It’s an old pattern. Shit. I’m so sorry, Vic."

"He said he wanted me to have sex with him and Tabitha. Can you believe that? I said no. That I wasn’t having sex with him anymore, period. That’s what put him into a rage. His fist hit my face and my head banged on the counter as I fell. I think I blacked out. He was cursing and kicking me. When I didn’t move, he stormed out the door yelling that he’d be back and I’d do what he said. His accent doesn’t sound so lovely when he’s out of control." She wiped her tears and covered her face.

I was on the floor, sitting at her feet, rubbing her knee. "I’m so sorry, Vic. So very sorry." I remember sitting at my grandmother’s feet like this, rubbing her knees, just touching her, after she had surgery. I looked at Victoria’s bruised face and wounded eyes. I could do that Reiki stuff on her now, maybe make her feel better. I opened my mind, letting go of the image before me, and asked the energy to come into my hands. Yes, there it was. I rested my palms on her knees. I think I can talk and do this at the same time. That’s some kind of multi-tasking.

"You didn’t deserve this, Vic. Don’t you worry. I got you into this, I’ll get you out." I knew better than to make wild promises that I couldn’t keep but I’d die trying. "Son of bitch asshole." I had the impression that I wasn’t supposed to make judgments while I was running this energy. Jeez, I was sounding more and more like lalaland Deirdre.

"You didn’t get me into this. I did," she sobbed.

"Vic, going to the strip joint was my idea. I didn’t have to drag you along. It was just a story. And I see how it put Chadwick’s mind into a different framework. Fuckin’ A." I didn’t want to have any understanding about the low life that would damage my dear friend. I felt tears in my eyes and focused on the Reiki energy again.

"Sassy, I was charmed by him the minute I saw him. You know how I fall for accents. Or a great intellect. Remember that guy from India that I went out with?" I did. That one was a charmer too but the cultural difference were too much for Victoria. "

"All of them can be slime balls. This time I really am swearing off men."

"I know. We keep doing that. How do you feel?"

"Like shit." She tried to smile but I could see her face hurt from the effort. "I don’t know. I think something’s going on here." She laid a hand on her stomach.

"Dr. O will take care of you," I said.

"Who is she, Sass? You seem to know her."

"It’s a long story, Vic. I think she’ll tell you when you’re better. All I can say is we can trust her."

"If you trust her, I do." A finger touched my hand. "Did you trust Chadwick?"

"Shit, Vic. I wanted to, I tried to. I kept having misgivings about him. It all seemed too fast, too slick. But I know good things come along when you least expect them. I was so happy to be in Tom’s arms and figured you’d found a warm relationship too. We were both hurting so much and …I didn’t trust him, Victoria. But I didn’t want to interfere with your choice. I’ve been wrong plenty of times in relationships. So, that says I didn’t trust myself. Shit. I’m rambling. I trusted you, not him."

"Sassy. A new pact, okay? If I think some guy is fucking you over and you don’t see it, I’m telling you. You do the same for me. If we fight about it, that’s okay. Okay?"

I stood up and kissed her forehead. "Okay."

Entry 36

2004-11-28T20:27:00.000-08:00

I grabbed my old down jacket and jammed my arms in the sleeves, flicked off the lights and then back on. Searching for my halogen flashlight, I turned in circles and located it right where I always kept it. I saw Danny Boy lumber through the rusty old gate in the back yard. I didn’t even know it opened. Guess that will teach me to investigate my own territory.

Dousing the lights again, I locked the back door and hurried after Danny Boy and Victoria. I followed his tracks along the end of the block where his yeti like footprints veered off down what appeared to be an old path. The snow fell in a thick curtain blocking my vision. I tucked my head down and forged on cursing my forgetfulness. A hat would have been nice.
Snow collected rapidly in Danny Boy’s footprints and I hurried as best I could. My cheeks were numb, my nose forgotten to memory, my ears icy and burning. I saw outbuildings, sheds, a garage and turned into a walkway and stumbled up the stairs. Turning the knob without knocking, I staggered into Esther’s front parlour. Of course.

"Come," Cassandra said, clutching my hand and pulling me down a hallway I hadn’t seen before. She paused after many doors. "Here," she said and opened the door quietly. I followed her into a clinical setting, a no nonsense doctor’s office. Dr. O had a stethoscope on Victoria.
"You’re here, Sassy. Good. Victoria is seriously injured." I held my breath. Please don’t let anything happen to Victoria. I couldn’t stand it.

"What can I do?" I felt so helpless.

"We’ll need you. I can’t do all my testing here. I’ll stabilize her with some basic homeopathy but I need to do an MRI, run tests, get a lab report." She sighed, glancing down at Victoria’s pale face, her eyes closed. "I wasn’t ready to introduce her below but we have to take her there now. I’ll show you what to do when we get there. Cassandra, get Danny Boy. Tell him we’re going below."

I walked to Victoria’s side and held her hand. "You’re going to be okay now. You’re safe." Her eyes were closed and I couldn’t tell if she heard me. Then she pressed her fingers slightly. We’d make it together.

Inside the elevator, Danny Boy once again carried Victoria. Dr. O was making notes on a clipboard.

"Put it in mute. I don’t want any more stress on her body. It is better to take the extra time." Cassandra nodded, her fingers flying over a keyboard. I didn’t feel that drop away in my stomach this time. Dr. O was making sure Victoria didn’t feel it either. Jeez, how was Vic going to feel about this experience she was about to have? It had been crazy for me and now what about her, attacked, beaten and injured? I was frowning when Dr. O reached out a finger and ran it down my forehead and nose.

"Relax, little one. Victoria has a very strong constitution. She will be fine." I nodded, unconvinced.

The doors slid open. Danny Boy laid Victoria on the waiting gurney. I followed.
"This is the Medical Wing," Dr. O stated the obvious. "We want to stabilize her and then debrief her. Come with us, Sassy."

Victoria opened her eyes. "Where am I?" She looked at me.

"Dr. O is going to take good care of you, Vic. She says you’re going to be fine so just listen to her."

"I’m thirsty."

"Good," said Dr. O, nodding at Cassandra who moved to a refrigerator and prepared a liquid.
"Electrolytes," Cassandra said, her voice soft and musical, as she climbed a step stool and lifted Victoria’s head to drink.

Dr. O efficiently slipped a needle into a vein, taped it down and started an IV. Victoria didn’t react at all, just kept her eyes on Cassandra. Maybe I should formerly introduce them. They seemed to be communicating without my interference so I kept the impulse to myself.

"Victoria, I want to you to do slow deep breathing now," Dr. O instructed. "Good. Cassandra, you begin Reiki on her head. I’m going to attune Sassy." What? Just take care of Victoria and I’d be fine.

Dr. O indicated the door with a head motion and I followed her out and across the hall to a small room.

"I don’t have time all the hoop de doo and rigamarole so we’re cutting straight to the chase." What a weird sentence, half Ester, half Dr. O.

"What are we chasing?"

"Don’t be flippant with me, Sassafras Cambridge. I am going to attune you to Reiki so you can help us work on Victoria. Later Deirdre or Cassandra or I will explain the history and process. But we need you now and you are perfectly capable of being of assistance."

"Okay. I’ll do anything I can to help Victoria."

"Close your eyes and breathe deeply. Stay focused." I felt her hands light on my head like a crown of fire. I’m not sure what happened after that. She spoke words, I felt energy hit my body, fly up like a phoenix rising out of the ashes of my soul. My fears disappeared. I was a radiant being in the cosmos. I drifted in a cloud of mystery, content and confident.

"Open your eyes slowly, begin to become aware of your body. Your feet, your legs, your arms. Gradually feel all your body connected and whole. Your whole being, body, mind and spirit are united to the highest good now. You can run this energy to help Victoria." Her words were hitting my brain but I wasn’t registering it in my mind. I followed her back to Victoria’s room, gliding on foam feet.

Cassandra’s hands were still on Victoria’s head.

"Sassy," Dr. O’s voice was soft. "Here, at her feet, put your hands here." I did. "Now, repeat the word I taught you and let the energy flow from the universe through you. You are the conduit."

I held Victoria’s cold, cold feet, my hands nurturing them. My fingers tingled, my palms were little heating pads. I felt a strange energy pass through me into Victoria. I was helping but I didn’t know how.

Victoria’s eyes fluttered and opened. She looked right at me, alert and present. "Thank you," she whispered, and dozed off again.

Entry 35

2004-11-26T17:45:00.000-08:00

Something shattered in the living room, followed by a moan. I leapt from bed, wishing I had a dog, a big guard dog that would be growling and snarling and protecting me from some malicious intruder. Spook had probably hightailed it to the attic.

I flicked on the hall light as Victoria staggered toward me.

"Fuck," I gasped, running toward her. She collapsed into my arms, sobbing, blood dripping from her lip, her eye swelling into a massive bruise. She quivered like an aspen leaf. I led her into my bedroom and eased her into the chair. Her teeth chattered.

"What happened, Vic?" Was she in a car accident? A hit and run? No. She wouldn’t be here; she’d be at the hospital. "What the hell happened?" I couldn’t get my mind around it as I grabbed a face cloth and turned on the faucet.

She moaned, sobbing, bending over at the waist. What? Internal injuries also? She was in shock. Damn. Why hadn’t I taken that homeopathy class? I had to get her warm. I turned on the water in the tub and went back to dab gently at her face.

"Poor baby. I’m going to take care of you," I crooned, wondering how the hell I could do that. "You’re going to be fine. Can you tell me what happened?" Shit. I eased off her clothes and saw bruises on her quaking body.

"C’mon, Vic. A nice, warm bath will help." I eased her into the water and poured a few drops of lavender oil in. Deirdre had given it to me a while ago, lavender, the miracle cure, she’d said. I think we needed a miracle here alright. Lavender, calming, centering. I bathed her, sloshing water over her back, not touching the bruises. I didn’t like the look of this at all. Her tattoo looked bruised. What was going on?

"Vic, let’s get you outta here before it gets cold. I want you to stay warm." Her clothes were torn and bloody. I wrapped her in a blanket while I rummaged through my closet to find something that would fit her. Ah, that beautiful sweater my aunt knit that was too long for me but would be perfect for Victoria. And a pair of sweats. I helped her dress. The sweats reached just below her knees like bloomers. I threw my old cloak around her shoulders.

"There, that will keep you warm. Now, can you tell me how this happened?"

She snuffled. "Chadwick. We have to leave. He’ll come here."

"What? Chadwick did this to you. Fucking asshole. Jesus. I can’t believe this. Don’t judge a handsome guy by his accent, eh? You’re right, we gotta get outta here. He’ll come here first. I want all the details later." She nodded, crying again.

I heard a car squeal to a stop out front. Nobody used this alley at night. Fuck. We were in trouble.

"Upstairs. Can you manage the stairs?" I guided her to the attic stair, hidden behind my bureau.

"No." But she mustered and did one step at a time. Finally in the attic, I lifted the frayed eyelet curtain and peeked out the tiny window, looking below. Chadwick’s car lights were still on, illuminating big, fat flakes of wonderland snow swirling. The car door was open but I couldn’t see him. But I did see Danny Boy. I let out a sigh of relief.

"It’s going to be okay, Vic. You’re safe." I didn’t know what that meant at the moment. I just knew Danny Boy would take care of it. We had to get out of here but I was afraid of going down yet.

"No. We’re n-n-not s-sa-afe, Vic," she stuttered.

"Yes. It’s okay. Trust me." I usually meant that when I said it. Now I wasn’t even sure I trusted myself. I put my arms around her, holding her wounded body gently. I turned back to the window just in time to see Danny Boy put something or someone in the backseat. He closed the car door and pushed the vehicle around like a toy, heading it back down the alley. I couldn’t see Danny Boy anymore but I heard his voice downstairs.

"Sassy, where are you?"

Victoria backed up deeper between my stacks of boxed books.

"I’m coming," I called out, and took Victoria’s hand. "It’s Danny Boy. He’ll help us." We eased down the narrow stairwell. Danny Boy bent over to look into my bedroom.

"Come now. Oh. Victoria, girl, you’ve had a bad time of it." He lifted her like a rag doll, cradling her in his arms, and headed toward the back door, stooping his massive body. I followed.

Entry 34

2004-11-26T15:16:00.000-08:00

I flopped on the sofa with my feet up. Spook jumped up on my belly, purring and making biscuits. I pressed memory dial through a series of numbers to pick up my voice mail. Tom’s wonderful voice made me horny. Victoria wanted me to call back to say I was home okay.

"Sassy girl, this is Esther. I wanna thank ya for that nice article ya wrote," she was using the crazy old lady hillbilly accent. Jeez, she could have gone into theatre. "Come see me tomorry and hava cuppa tea. Around 4. Bye bye now." Why she was pretending when I already knew her screen was beyond me. Did she think my phone was bugged?

Fine. I’d go see Esther, ask her some clear cut questions and then I was going to take Tom up on his offer. I could get Vic to stay here and take care of Spook. That was it. No other obligations. I was exhausted but sleep did not beckon.

Shoving my hands in my jacket pocket, I pulled out paper to throw in the trash. A hundred dollar bill? Johnni must have slipped in my pocket when I was scoping out her view of the world. Weird that she was being so supportive of me. Maybe she had been all along and I misinterpreted. Whatever. I’d take the cash. It might buy me a taxi ride across New York City.

I hung my jacket up and fed Spook.

Back on the sofa, I flicked on the TV and channel surfed. Anderson Cooper, Chris Matthews and Jon Stewart. Chris Matthews interviewed me a few years ago when the new Fondis International Airport had a bomb scare. Now the networks tend to contact KFND, the Fondis television station. They’ve asked me to go on air with them but I’m really into print media. I can work more in-depth and make sure my copy is accurate. I finally settled on a re-run of "The Ellen Degeneres Show." I don’t like taking all the baggage of the news to bed with me. A good laugh helps me sleep better.

Before I climbed into my lonely, cold bed (the same place that was sweet rhapsody when Tom was here), I put new film in the Nikon and downloaded the digital pictures into a computer file. Esther Dr. O had to let me take photos tomorrow if we went below. If not, I’d have the miniature digital and I’d be as surreptitious as she was. That would make her laugh.

I fixed a cup of decaf chai, stirred in honey and soy milk and crawled under the covers, reading my favorite romance writer and sipping the hot liquid. Spook jumped on the bed and stretched next to my body. A warm cat on a cold night, my trusty companion. If I moved to New York, I wondered how Spook would adapt. Now why was I thinking that? I’ve got a perfectly good job here and cheap rent and…no Tom. That kind of thinking could keep me up all night. I settled back into my book until my eyelids weighed heavy.

Maggie waved at me from the turret of the blue castle and flew off on gossamer wings. Blue tiger striped Tom lifted bar bells. Spook rode on Danny Boy’s shoulder under water. Johnni offered Victoria her perfectly balanced blue breasts. A monster with a British accent grabbed Victoria’s wings, crushing them. She screamed. Sobbing. Dreamtime sauntered in its own strange reality. Waking was a relief—or not.

My eyes wide open, I sat up in my own bed blinking into the darkness and still hearing sobs.

Entry 33

2004-11-26T15:13:00.000-08:00

"I’ve gotta go," I whispered to Chadwick and Victoria. "You stay and enjoy the show. I’ll catch a bus back to the square." Tabitha had just walked through the exit and the mayor left through the front door. I figured they’d meet in the back alley.

Victoria and Chadwick were on my heels. "You’ve got to be kidding. I wouldn’t leave you alone in this area, Sass," Victoria said.

"Fine. Chadwick can you drive down the back alley inconspicuously?"

"At your service, Madame Sassy," he quipped and opened the door to the back seat like a chauffeur. "Back alley with my ladies, it is."

He cut the lights and pulled past the back entrance of the club. I didn’t see anything. Damn. All my hunches weren’t perfect. Or were they? The door opened and the surreptitious couple stood on the landing, a slant of street light illuminating them. I reached for my Nikon with the long lens. Perfect. It looked like a 1940s movie poster.

"Got it. Thanks, Chadwick. Let’s split." I punched in the private number to Johnni’s office.

"Yes?" she growled into the phone.

"Are you still in your office?"

"You dialed here. Of course I am."

"I’m coming up. I’ve got a scoop."

"You’re on vacation."

"I know. That’s why I’ll give you the scoop." I hung up.

"This is rather exciting, Sassy, being your assistant in spying," Chadwick said in that accent.

"Sorry I can’t give you a byline on this," I said.

They dropped me at the front door of the Fondis Daily News and I let myself in, walking through the darkened newsroom to the stairway that led to Johnni’s third floor office.
On one level this was no scoop at all. I mean, who really cares who is sleeping with whom? All this morality crap is so superficial. The pot calling the kettle black as my grandmother used to say. The scoop was that Mr. Mayor himself was making a big stink about the church and faithfulness and how important it was to be a good citizen. And he spouted off whenever he had the chance, negating gay marriages. I’d covered several lovely ceremonies here in Fondis that got picked up by Associated Press. Mr. Two Timing Mayor wasn’t going to see another day in office if I could help it. The two faced bastard. Let him fry in his own juices. Bad pun. I’m sure he was coming all over himself.

I knocked and let myself in. Johnni looked up, picture perfect at 11:30 at night after working all day. She really was annoying. At least I was learning that her bark was worse than her bite.
"What the hell are you doing here at midnight?" she snapped and pushed away from the computer. How could she look so good and be so bad?

"Tom left me some research he’d been working on when he moved to New York," I began.

"Yes."

"That’s it. Yes?"

"Sassy, get it through that thick skull of yours. I know what’s going on. I know Tom was working on a sexual scandal revealing the mayor for the slim ball he is."

"You do?"

"That’s why I’m editor, little girl. Come here." I stood, walked behind the desk and stood next to her. "Look out there." The view of the town square was beautiful at night, the street lights illuminating the landscaping, the brick walkways, the little shops.

"Nice." I said.

"No, not nice. I see a lot from here. Now, look over here." We walked to the window that looked down on the darkened news room. "And I see a lot from here. I know what’s going on, Sassy. That’s why I’m in charge."

I sighed. "So, do you want my scoop or not? I was just at the Strip Strap Club and got some good shots of the mayor with lovely Miss Tabitha, also known as Alexander Carothers."

"Good work, Sassy. Now sit down. You’re not going to like this. I’m not running it. I know what an ass he’s been about morality and this would cook his goose. I’m going to tell you something off the record. I’m working with the FBI on this one. We have incriminating evidence on a lot more than where he dips his stick. Extortion. Money laundering. You name it, Mr. Mayor is filthy. I can’t run anything negative about him now. So keep this to yourself. You went there alone, right?"

I shrank down in the big leather chair. "No."

"Shit. Who were you with?"

"Victoria and Chadwick."

"Talk to Victoria," she paused, thinking. "Just tell her we’re not the National Inquirer and I’m running an upstanding paper. Just make me out to be the bitch they all think I am." She paced. "Chadwick. He’s new. I don’t have a take on him. Victoria’s getting tight with him, huh?"
I nodded. Jeez. She really did know everything that was going on form this little panopticon where she reigned.

"Just let Victoria tell him. Second hand. It will lose its impact. Now go home and go to bed. You look awful."

"Thanks a lot." I probably did.

"And Sassy." I turned at the door. She was already back at her computer screen. "Thanks. You did the right thing. But do me a favor. Take two weeks off, okay? That’s an order."

I suppressed a smile and closed the door behind me. The bitch was a witch was a stitch.
I walked home whistling.

Entry 32

2004-11-26T15:01:00.000-08:00

"Jambo, Jimbo," I said to the doorman, using the Swahili greeting. I’d interviewed Jimbo years before when he was coaching the high school wrestling team. He was a bouncer here and still coached on the side. Jimbo, a hulk of a man, with an afro that exaggerated his height, leaned down and gently kissed my cheek.

"Jambo, sister."

"Do you know if Tabitha is dancing tonight?"

He looked at the diamond studded watch on his large black wrist. "She should be doing her first set just about now. Enjoy."

"You seem to know everyone, Sassy," Chadwick said. I think he was impressed but I know better. I’m not impressive. I just get around. And I like people, all kinds of people. We entered the dark interior of the Strip Strap Club, a new place where I'd heard a certain dancer now performed.

Jimbo had followed us in and now spoke to a maitre de. "Front or back, Sassy?"

"Back," I said. I wanted to see everything I could.

"Working, huh?" he said in a lowered voice. I shrugged and he grinned.

Two women were dancing on stage, now, covered with the tiniest of bikini bottoms. The local and state laws varied from time to time. Sometimes it was okay to be stark naked, sometimes they had to wear a token g-string. Obviously these women had a gymnastic background and were doing interesting, almost impossible contortions with their bodies in very intimate ways.
"What would you like to drink, Sassy?" Chadwick asked as the topless waitress/dancer came to our table.

"Soda water with lime." I was sticking to my guns. Hangovers weren’t my style. I must be getting old. I used to be able to chugalug it down and never have a glimmer of a headache. Well, this was better for me—and I was getting a head start on my new year’s resolutions. Maybe they should be revolutions.

"Me too," Victoria caught my eye and smiled.

"Ah, come on, dove, you’re a tad sexier with a nip o’ the sauce," Chadwick tapped her nose.
"Nope. Sass and I have an agreement. Huh?" I nodded. We weren’t blood sisters for nothing.
The Twins, as they were called, left the stage. An announcer spoke from the side of the stage as the lights changed and a fog machine created a lake forest scene. "And now, help me welcome the one, the only Tabitha from Down Under, if you know what I mean." He laughed at his own weak joke and disappeared behind the curtains.

An exquisite woman glided unto the stage in a dewy gown of gossamer greens and golds. She was obviously a trained dancer, beautiful in form and fluidity. I was captivated but pulled my eyes away from the stage as I felt Jimbo guiding a guest toward the maitre de who seated the man in the back corner on the other side. My eyes glanced at the stage, at the twirling form, round and round, twirling she flew, one layer of gossamer faerie cloth dropping from her body after another.

I leaned back in my chair as our drinks were served and looked to the far table as the mayor ordered a drink. On stage the dancer continued to transform from a wood nymph to an almost naked exotic dancer doing very erotic motions. Damn. I wished Tom were sitting next to me.
Back to work. I pulled the miniature digital camera from my pocket and leaned close to Chadwick, focusing over his shoulder as the mayor enjoyed the show.

"Just what I like," Chadwick said, "a date with two beautiful women. Every man’s fantasy." I pulled back, forgetting he wasn’t really a friend yet, that I didn’t know him. He made me uneasy.

Tabitha slid through the crowd graciously greeting people at various tables after her set (how could she be a he?). She stood provactively at the mayor’s table. I got a tight shot as the mayor tucked a hundred dollar bill in her g-string, a long shot with my other camera. Jeez, I had to get ahold of Johnni.

Entry 31

2004-11-26T14:44:00.000-08:00

I didn’t know where to go from my deductions. The story was still hidden in mystery. I’d have to make another appointment with Esther, a.k.a., Dr. O, and some good solid facts, not let her dissuade me.

I drove back to my place, which was a disaster. Tom and I did nothing to clean up when we were here. I crawled into bed, smelling him, yearning for him. I wanted to catch the next flight to New York but my rational mind, what was left of it, scolded me for not finishing up business. Yeah, sure, ol’ reliable Sassy even when she’s on a leave of absence.

So, what did I have to do? Meet with Esther. Go to the strip club and see if the evidence Tom had gathered was still accurate. Great. Maybe Victoria would go with me. Then talk to Johnni, give her both stories and fly off to dreamland. I rolled over, holding the pillow. Spook jumped on my back and gave me a kitty-paw massage. I started crying, the endless tears of grief that I’d blocked for too long shaking me. Spook stayed with me, purring, nuzzling me with his cold nose. Finally he stretched his body long against mine and I curled around him and fell asleep at last.

Entry 30

2004-11-22T20:46:00.000-08:00

Tom and I waited in the security line at Fondis International Airport, talking, touching, just gazing into each other’s eyes.

"I’m sorry I have to leave so soon, Sassy. Oh, I forgot to give you this." He pulled an envelope from the inside of his sports coat and handed it to me. "An airline ticket to the Big Apple. Come whenever you want to. I have a roommate but he’s on overseas assignment so we’ll have the place to ourselves." He grinned lasciviously and I grinned back.

"Maybe I can come soon. I have to make sure Vic is okay."

"She’s okay. Did you see how she gets on with Chadwick?" I nodded, still unsure if it was happening too fast.

"And I have a few loose ends to tie up. A story I’m working on." I was thinking of Dr. O and the underground weirdness. I’d been so distracted that I hadn’t had time to ponder that setup. And then there was Danny Boy who kept showing up and always being in the right place at the right time.

"What about the mayor’s story? Have you had a chance to do anything with that?"

"No. I’ve just been crazy, Tom. I think a trip to New York would clear my brain, add new input. And put me in your arms. Remember to take care of your tattoo." We’d been moving forward slowly in line. Now he held me tight and gave me a too brief goodbye kiss and turned to walk through security. Clutching the ticket, I turned and ran from the airport to my old VW bug parked in the outlying area.

I’m so glad that Johnni got ahold of him and told him about Maggie and that he’d gotten a few days off. I missed him already. I was getting close to having that all time crying jag. But first I had to tend to some loose ends.

What about Dr. O and Danny Boy? I’d been in such a muddle that I was missing a big chunk of the puzzle. I drove down Main Street to Death by Chocolate. Victoria and I had sworn off booze after the last dreadful hangover. Chocolate was the next best thing to try and fill the void.

I pulled a small spiral notebook out of my coat pocket and began to make notes as I slurped a big bite of hot fudge, chocolate ice cream and whipped cream with nuts.

Esther, crazy old lady living in old beat up house--a façade
Also known as Dr. O-famous
Cassandra-miniature woman with unusual powers
Danny Boy—a giant assigned to look after me
What was I --Jack and the Beanstalk in reverse?

I struck out that last line. It didn’t make any sense. It was more like Alice in Wonderland but it still didn’t fit.

Cerridwen—a healer and...

And what? There was always that lingering sense of knowing her. Wait a minute. Danny Boy was from Esther’s realm but he was equally comfortable and familiar with Cerridwen. Duh. Why hadn’t I put that together before? I shoved my notebook into my pocket and stirred the hot fudge and ice cream into a goopy swirl and set to seriously enjoying it. Obviously my brain was whacked by recent events. I was an astute reporter, noting things that even cops or detectives overlooked.

I drove by Esther’s old house and parked across the street, studying not the house but the location, discerning where the underground tunnel would begin toward the back of the property. I pulled a "U" and headed back to Main Street, keeping my sense of direction active as I drove toward Cerridwen’s.

An eagle flew overhead as I stopped at the end of her driveway, sensing the angle from town to this remote setting. I needed the eyes of the eagle to figure out what was going on here. My best guess was that they were all in cahoots and the lab was directly beneath the geodesic dome. I wish I’d talked to Tom about it.

Entry 29

2004-11-22T20:42:00.000-08:00

Victoria, Chadwick, Tom and I sat in a booth at Humpty Dumpty’s Omelet Emporium just off Main Street sharing breakfast. I smiled thinking we all looked sexually satisfied. At least something was going right. Tom pushed his knee against mine and I met his eyes. How could I have what I wanted and still want more? But I did. Our eyes lusted together.

Victoria cleared her throat. "I don’t mean to interrupt." Of course she did or she wouldn’t have done it. I pulled my eyes away and tried to focus on Victoria.

"Chadwick has a story for you." She grinned, encouraging him. "I know you’re on a leave of absence, Sass, but thought you still might be interested."

I was interested. I was always interested in a story.

"The building next to the print shop has been renovated and new owners are setting up shop. A tattoo shop, that is," Chadwick said. Victoria was right. I kept noticing what a lovely British accent he had.

"Wow. I knew we’d finally get one in Fondis. Great. Maybe you can introduce me," I said eagerly.

"Sass, I have a better idea," Victoria’s eyes sparkled. "Let’s go get a tattoo and you can write it from personal experience. We can get a tattoo to honor Maggie." Her face sobered. Mine too. But I liked the idea. The three of us had talked of it often.

"We could make it a tattoo party," Tom said.

"You’d get a tattoo?" I swung my head to look at him, wondering where on that magnificent body he’d put a tattoo. I’d have to tend to it. Wonderful.

"Why not. We could even get matching tattoos. That is, if you want," I could tell he wanted to take it back but I was considering it.

"Let’s go down there now," Victoria said squeezing Chadwick’s hand.

Chadwick introduced us to Violet, the tallest most beautiful blonde woman I’ve ever seen. What I could see of her arms was tastefully tattooed—I couldn’t tell about the rest of her body clad in white tights and a long loose white sweater. I pulled out my camera and began to shoot. The shop was immaculate, white and chrome. Oh my God. This was the last job Maggie had been working on. She’d told me about wanting it to look pristine but not too medical, with an edge of mystical. This was it. Gorgeous. Green plants in the waiting area with chrome and black leather sofa and chairs. Soft music was piped in surround-a-sound.
"You first," I said to Victoria. We explained what we wanted and Violet confirmed that Maggie had designed the tattoo parlour. She showed us artwork of the classic breast cancer pink ribbon.

"I want something more personal, something that will remind me of Maggie and not just the disease," I said. Victoria nodded.

"You know that Maggie liked Celtic designs?" Violet asked. We nodded. "I studied with the best Celtic designer in the country."

"Where?" I asked, pulling out my tape recorder.

"Santa Barbara." I’d heard of Santa Barbara Tattoo. "Let me show you my Celtic Book." Maggie could design white on white with chrome accents but this was more like her own personal taste. We hemmed and hawed over designs. Victoria and I chose a labyrinthine design that Violet rearranged, including the breast cancer icon in a subtle way. We would get different colors but the same artwork. Tom selected a design called Celtic Magic and chose the same colors I would have.

"Too many choices, loves," said Chadwick. "I’m bowing out. I’ll be your support team and take a rain check."

"Hey, that’s a cop out," Victoria teased.

"Violet and I can talk about a design later." He smiled at the lithe dermagraphologist. Was he coming onto her? I looked at Victoria to see her reaction but she’d stepped behind a screen to change. So what, he didn’t want a tattoo. It didn’t matter. Chadwick didn’t know Maggie like the three of us had.

Victoria, swathed in a white gown, rested back on a chair that looked like the best of a dental chair and a massage table. The sound of the tattoo machine was too loud for my tape recorder so I turned it off.

"Watch the mobile above your head," Violet instructed. "Now, take a deep breath. This is a blend of essential oils that will help you to relax." The calming aroma filled the room. Victoria closer her eyes. Chadwick stood on the other side of the table, watching the tall Swede who began to tattoo Victoria’s Celtic design on her left breast.

I gave Tom the high sign and we stepped into the hallway and found a back room. He pulled me into his arms and I wrapped mine around him, our lips meeting with abandon.

"Wait, Sassy."

"Wait? I’ve been waiting long enough." I grinned.

"That’s what I want to talk to you about. I’m so sorry you couldn’t get ahold of me when Maggie died. I want to explain what happened."

"And well you should." I cupped my hands along his strong jaw and nibbled at his lips.
"You know I can’t talk to you when you’re doing that." His hand slipped under my shirt, fingers seeking breasts, nipples rousing in welcome.

"Ummmhmmm," I murmured into his mouth. He tasted good, smelled good, looked good, felt good. We could talk anytime. I just wanted to feel him, feel his body on mine, his lips exploring wherever they wanted. The crown of pleasure between my legs ached for his touch. I figured Victoria would take some time to complete her tattoo so we could take an equal amount of time to…my mind went blank as my body soared in response to his promptings. He slid me gently to the plush white carpet, pulling off my pants. I was going to have to start wearing skirts for easy access. I smiled to myself.

Entry 28

2004-11-22T20:35:00.000-08:00

God, I hated funerals. Not that this was a funeral. It was a memorial service. Cerridwen had suggested we call it a Graduation Ceremony and no one disagreed. Euphemisms. I knew all about them as a writer. I preferred to get down to the gut level and tell it like it is. None of this airy fairy hoop de doo.

Victoria and I stuck together like two halves of a seashell. I slept at her place or she stayed at mine. Spook liked it better when she was here. I kept trying to call Tom but never caught him in. And he wasn’t picking up on his cell. Vic had planned the Graduation Ceremony program with her new friend Chadwick. I think she’s getting attached too soon. But what did I know? She thought I was unrealistic about Tom, especially since his move to New York.

She was probably right. I knew I was a rebound relationship but I thought we’d at least keep our friendship when he moved. We’d been good friends for too long to lose that. But it seemed like it was gone. He would have called me. Wouldn’t he? He was the only guy I’d ever felt comfortable around the way I felt with my women friends. I didn’t want to lose that even if I lost a potential partner.

I didn’t want to loose him in that way either. God, he was great in bed. I couldn’t believe how sexually compatible we were. I was quite willing to wait for a trip to New York to see if we still sparked. Maybe I should go to New York now, while I had time off. I’d talk to Victoria about it. See what she thinks. That is, if he ever calls me and it’s okay with him. He might as well be on Jupiter for all the communication we’d had of late. He still didn’t know about Maggie.

Victoria and I sat in the first row of All Saints Episcopal Church, the row reserved for the Women’s Group, Maggie’s family. Chadwick sat on the other side of her, holding her hand.
The minister was a sprite of a young woman with bubbling blonde curls and sparkling eyes, like a faerie with a clerical collar. Cerridwen stood next to her. My mind was numb, the words skimming over my brain and not registering. Someone slipped into the space next to me. I scooted over, staring blindly at the virgin Mary in stained glass. Victoria elbowed me. I glared at her. Did it matter if I paid attention? She was as bad as my mother when I was a kid daydreaming in church. Victoria raised her eyebrows and nodded her head in my direction.

Whatever.

A large, warm hand slipped over my left one and squeezed. Wide eyed I turned. Tom. Beloved, wonderful Tom. Oh, their was a god or goddess helping me somewhere. His eyes were sad as he leaned his shoulder to mine. I always hated sitting in the front row and I hated it more now. I wanted to hug him, kiss him, let him show me how to be alive again. Instead, I squeezed back, hard, bit my lower lip, and hoped we were almost finished.

People in the community were beginning to get up and tell stories about Maggie, about how she’d helped them, what she’d done for this or that organization, how she’d helped out in the soup line on Thanksgiving, things like that. None of the women from the group spoke. I think we’d already said our blessings to her.

As the organ played the recessional, Victoria leaned close and spoke quietly in my ear. "I’m going with Chadwick after the reception. Do we call it a reception? Anyway, we’re going out to dinner. And it looks like you won’t need any company tonight anyway." She grinned. "I’ll call you tomorrow."

I nodded, feeling Tom’s hand on my waist, guiding me down the aisle. Down the aisle. Not up the aisle. Where’d that thought come from? I really was out of it. He pulled me aside and down a quiet hallway.

"Are you okay?" He cupped my face in his hands.

"No." My lips quivered. I’d held up fine until that moment. Shit. I swallowed hard. Not now. I couldn’t cry now. I grabbed him, pushing my face into his shoulder, hurting breaths raging through my throat as I resisted the sobbing pain. Not now. I held him tighter, his hard, firm body like a mast in a storm, steady, holding me when my sails had torn asunder.

Entry 27

2004-11-21T20:39:00.000-08:00

An exotic blend of aromas whirled through the air inside the dome, smudge, incense, essential oils and the sweet blending of women’s bodies. We’d greeted each other quietly, hugging, murmuring, sniffing, weeping, laughing quietly. I wasn’t certain how we would proceed. Victoria broke the ice.

"We all know Maggie liked fancy undies," she said pulling a red lace bra and matching panties from her backpack.

"Um hum, beautiful," Erin said.

"I just don’t know how to attach them to the outside of the…uh…I hate the word casket." Victoria’s eyes puddled.

"How about dais?" Deirdre suggested. No one disagreed.

"Use duct tape," said the ever practical Lady of the Lake. That got the ball rolling as Cerridwen shuffled off in search of a roll of tape and Victoria positioned the garments on the lid of the "dais." Shit. It was a coffin. Might as well call a spade a spade. However I did understand the reluctance we all felt toward the oblong container.

"I want to draw her picture," Johnni said. What? It was always weird when Johnni came to the group. I clamed up. I mean, what else could I do with my boss in an intimate circle of my friends. I couldn’t get down and deep with her around. She pulled out a rainbow of magic markers and began to draw Maggie’s beautiful face. Beautifully. Who knew Johnni could draw. I was overwhelmed by my own limitations.

"I brought photos of us all at her last birthday party," BooBoo sobbed. She handed us each a photo of ourselves with Maggie. Fuck. I was going to loose it. I drew in my breath, let it out slowly. Not now. Not here. BooBoo handed me a glue stick. I sank to the floor and concentrated on attaching the photo.

Victoria stuffed the duct taped bra with the artificial breasts Maggie used after the double mastectomy. Johnni painted the drawn toenails purple.

"That’s beautiful, Johnni," Deirdre said. "Now, add her chakras." Johnni frowned. "Here. I’ll point them out and tell you the colors. Start here with red." She continued to work with Johnni while the rest of us added our own momentos, drawings, poetry, last good-byes. The Lady of the Lake glued brightly colored gemstones on the chakra drawings.

Our chatter gradually fell to silence and we looked at the end result more glorious than a pharaoh’s sarcophagus, sparkling with glitter, gem stones glued in a mosaic of color and all of our heartache resting so tenderly before us. I wanted to moan my loss but bit my lower lip instead.

The sound began to rise from my gut, joining the others who spontaneously began to "Om." Over and over, low and high tones rising and falling in harmony, on and on into the eternity where Maggie now walked. We were all sitting around the coffin, okay, dais, holding hands. The energy swirled through me. I was one with these women, with Maggie. She was gone in body but I felt her spirit zing about the room in joy. Jeez, I was beginning to sound like one of them. The Om stopped but we continued to hold hands.

"How did Maggie feel about her breasts?" Cerridwen asked. I was startled by her direct question.

"Awful," Victoria volunteered. "You know she had perfect breasts. I mean, really perfect. That’s the irony of it, isn’t it? She was dating, uh, well, you all know who she was dating. He dropped her as soon as she was scheduled for surgery. That was her biggest fear. That she was incomplete without her breasts." She reached out and patted the stuffed bra.

"And how do each of you feel about your breasts?" Cerridwen pushed. Shit. As a women’s group, we’d touched a lot of areas, but not this one.

"Too big."

"Too little."

"You can fix that condition," Johnni said. I looked at her breasts and wondered if she had.

"Lopsided," Victoria said. I shot her a glance and shook my head.

"Self conscious."

"Sagging."

"Embarrassed."

"Inadequate."

"No positive comments?" Cerridwen asked.

"Good for nursing babies."

"Fine if they’re no men around."

"And how do you feel about your thumb?" Cerridwen continued. We all laughed.

"Neutral."

"It’s very useful."

"I don’t suck mine anymore." We were still giggling and studying our thumbs.

"Body parts," Cerridwen said. "For some reason different body parts get assigned a social position. Breasts are as functional and unique as thumbs. Start looking at people’s thumbs. You don’t judge by them but you will notice they are unique. Do you love your body?"

"Sure."

"Sometimes."

"Some parts." Again laughter.

"Love your whole body," Cerridwen said "Maggie was trying to love her body. It was a bigger challenge when it was altered by surgery but she finally did love it. She never let you see her inner turmoil. That was her way. Maggie made a contract before she incarnated to clear this condition not only for herself but for others. This was her task, self assigned. I know for some of you that is a hard concept to embrace. She cleared it generationally and she cleared it for you. She wanted you to love your body. Look at your body."

I looked down at my old sweat shirt, my legs crossed in a half lotus. It was a pretty good body, served me well. I admit I’ve misused it a bit of late. Shit. I wanted a sip of wine right now. Did my body?

"No. Look at your body. Really look." Cerridwen pulled the sweater over her head and unsnapped her bra, letting her breasts drop low toward her belly. "Yes, look at my body." She cupped her hands under her breasts, lifting them. "Gravity gets us all if we’re lucky." She chuckled, letting them go. "Look at your breasts."

I hesitated and figured what the hell. I pulled off my sweat shirt and looked at my breasts. I’d skipped the bra part today. They too were giving it up to gravity a bit. My areola, pink, nipples, pink. Not those dark beautiful breasts like Victoria had but pink was good.

"Now look at each other’s breasts. They are not to be ashamed of—just look. Look in awe at the wonder of the body. This is a time to honor the body, to love your own body so you can completely love others." Wow, I was liking this down to earth spirituality. My eyes roamed around the circle slowly from breast to breast, the lovely shape and difference of them all, the magic of the hidden revealed. Why were we so hung up on our breasts? Morgan was nursing her baby when my eyes came to her breasts and I smiled. Perfect. All our breasts were indeed perfect.

"Hold your breasts. Tell them you love them." We all giggled and talked to our wonderful body parts.

Cerridwen poured a small vial of water into a bowl and stirred it with her finger. "This is holy earth from Chimayo. And holy water."

"Holy mud," I quipped. Some laughed.

"Indeed, holy mud. I will anoint Deirdre to my left, asking blessings not only for her breasts but for her body, her life choices, her higher self, her oversoul." She dabbed the holy mud on Deirdre’s lovely breasts and handed her the bowl. Each woman in turn honored the woman to her left.

"Now stretch your arms to the side," Cerridwen said. We started to scoot back. "No. Just as you are. Each hand will hold the breast of the woman on either side of you. Do this in honor of the Divine Feminine. We cannot fear that which we know from a place of goodwill and love."I slid my hand under Victoria’s familiar breast, my other one under Johnni’s, wondering if it had been enhanced but not really caring. It didn’t matter. We were a circle of women honoring our bodies. It felt right in some ancient way.

"Maggie is pleased with this understanding." Cerridwen’s eyes were closed, her old half naked body rocking slightly. "She wants you all to know that she is free of the body and with us in spirit. Go gently forth and love yourself so you may love others." Cerridwen drew her hands over her heart in a prayer position and we all followed suit. I hugged Victoria and then Johnni.
We all stood and filed into the small kitchen to eat.

Entry 26

2004-11-21T20:29:00.000-08:00

I walked along freshly shoveled sidewalks pondering my meeting with Johnni. Until this very moment I’ve considered myself a good judge of character. My mother’s words came back to me. ‘Don’t judge a book by its cover.’ Had I been doing that? I turned left at my alley, slogging through deep snow until I got to the gate in the old picket fence in front of my house. Snow drifted to the top of it and my snow shovel was on the back porch. I eased over the fence and waded toward the front door.

Spook yowled, scolding me for leaving him alone last night. He still had dry food in his bowl but he wanted canned food and would I please hurry up. I scooped him up in my arms and hugged him.

"Sweet Spook, I missed you too." I kissed him on the ear and he flicked it and jumped out of my arms, twitching his tail at me. "Okay. First priority. Feed Spook." I opened a can of cat food and served him in his royal dish.

Pulling off my wet, torn pants, I shivered, a chill to the bone. Another hot shower brought me warmth and focus. I called Victoria.

"Hi, Vic. Can you pick me up and take me to my car? I’m at home. And is my cell charged yet?"

"First tell me what happened. Did she fire you?"

"Pick me up. It’s a long story. I’ll buy lunch." I remembered to pull the hundred out of my jeans pocket and stuff it in my dry cords.

I called Tom but got no answer. I wanted to tell him about Maggie but wasn’t about to leave that kind of message on his voice mail. I mumbled something and hung up.

***
After lunch, Victoria drove us to the mortuary where we sat in a small room talking to Reginald Stoker, a balding, pot bellied sleaze ball of a mortician.

"There is nothing to take care of. Ms. Maggie McLoughlin’s lawyer took care of all the details early this morning. Cremation. Head stone. She’d written it all out in her will." Why didn’t we know that? Victoria and I glanced at each other. She shrugged a shoulder.

"We would like to decorate the cremation coffin," I said, not knowing if decorate was the right word or not—or if it was possible. Victoria rolled her bloodshot eyes and looked out the window.

"Yes, of course. She indicated in the will that you two would want to fill in the details. The legal side is all zipped up. No problems there. So just tell me what you’d like." He smiled. He needed to see a dentist.

***
Danny Boy pulled the milk truck in next to Victoria’s old Honda and parked. I stared at him in astonishment, my constant expression where he was concerned.

"I was just going to call you—can you help us with the cremation casket?"

"Cerridwen told me to take it to her place," he rumbled. "I’ll pull around back and pick it up. Want to follow me back?" I nodded and looked at Victoria who was still in a daze.

We watched as Danny Boy and a mortuary worker loaded the big cardboard casket into the back of the milk truck and strapped it in. Victoria followed Danny Boy’s lumbering vehicle out of the parking lot.

"What are we doing, Sassy?"

"I don’t know. I just know we have to make it special. I think we need to talk to Cerridwen."

"You’re starting to sound like Deirdre." I knew she was teasing but it pissed me off.

I sulked until we turned on Skyline Drive. A herd of deer started at our passing, leaping over the fence line. The pine trees grew denser. A jackrabbit hopped across the road and Victoria slowed. Danny Boy turned again and I lost my sense of direction. Clouds gobbled the sun. I was glad I’d walked in the last time I’d come here. But that path was probably snowbound now. I couldn’t see the geodesic dome from this angle. Clever architecture to hide it so well in plain sight.

We followed Danny Boy up the front walk. He rang the chimes and opened the front door, calling out. Cerridwen with Deirdre in her shadow welcomed us.

Danny Boy was gone and Deirdre was anointing my palms with essential oils and mumbling some hocus pocus. She and Cerridwen had been "centering" us inviting in the balance of our inner being. Yeah, yeah. Whatever.

Cerridwen finally settled on the other side of the dining room table facing us. "Tell me what your plans are for the casket," she said.

"I’m not sure. I think we should invite everyone in the women’s group to join us, to bring photos or make drawings or whatever, to decorate the casket."

"We can all make phone calls and tell everyone," Victoria said.

"We’ll do it here, in the healing studio." Cerridwen was offering a space. I was relieved. I didn’t really have any idea what we would do next. This was a perfect place to all gather and do what I’d envisioned. "I want to do a ceremony with all the women after we’ve finished decorating," she continued. Victoria and I nodded.

Deirdre was a regular in the Women’s Group. Cerridwen visited on rare occasions. Victoria, Deirdre and I pulled out our cell phones. Cerridwen used the ground line. In no time everyone in the group had been contacted.

Entry 25

2004-11-21T20:15:00.000-08:00

I stood in the doorway to Johnni’s office, steadying myself against the door jam. Johnni looked up from her cluttered desk and hung up the phone.

"It’s about time." Her voice grated on my ears. "I need to talk to you."

Maybe she’d just fire me and I wouldn’t have to put up with the berating. My head felt twice its size and I was having a hard time keeping it in place. I headed for the big black leather chair and eased my way into it. Rachel hung back, listening for the harangue that was sure to come. Then she’d be the first to tell the newsroom. She annoyed me.

"That will be all Rachel. Close the door behind you," Johnni snapped. She rose from her swivel chair without speaking. I leaned back slowly, letting my head rest against the soft leather. Cactus spines pierced my skull. I closed my eyes enough so I could just see through my lashes. I had no energy to fight back today. Just fire me and get it over with. Maybe I’d go to New York and look for a job. Tom probably would have plenty of connections by now. Johnni paced back and forth in front of the big picture window that overlooked the town square, the perfect location for her predatory instincts. She’d scooped a lot of stories just by looking out that third floor window.

Jeez. I wish she’d just get on with it. Her brow was furrowed, too much expression for her nicely tucked up face. Johnni wasn’t like most reporters I knew, even though she’d once been one of us. I don’t know how many years she’d been the editor but her façade upgraded with her salary. She shopped in New York City, had her hair cut there and kept up with the latest styles. I glanced down at my rumpled, torn jeans and ratty old down jacket. I didn’t give a fuck. Johnni’s red silk suit looked as sharp as her nose. Finally she turned and faced me.

"Sassy, we’ve had our differences," she started. Fuck, she was going to go through the whole litany. I was her problem child, the errant reporter, the fuck up who couldn’t keep a deadline and yata yata.

"Yeah," I said, my eyelids at half mast now.

"Do you know why you work here?" I hadn’t expected that question. I sat up straighter, opened my eyes more. She stared at me with unflinching green eyes. The color changed as she changed her contact lenses like jewelry.

"I love writing the stories people tell. I work here because I can write here and…" I was at a total loss. What did she want from me? Why wasn’t she yelling?

"I hired you. You know why? You remind me of myself at your age." Huh? She must have had more face lifts than I thought. I figured we were the same age.

"How’s that?" I’d stay in reporter mode and keep her talking. I had no clue where this might be going. We were as different as night and day.

"I know you think I’m the queen of bitches. No. Don’t quibble. We’re more alike than you want to admit. It doesn’t matter. I’ve climbed the ladder and when I watch you, you’re my surrogate. You still can do the outrageous stories that are no longer appropriate for me." She walked around the side of her desk, and sat on the edge, leaning back into a stack of folders.

"I let you go. I let you follow that instinctive nose of yours to find stories. I can’t let all my reporters do that. We wouldn’t have a paper. But you have a true sense of it, you find out what others would miss, you bring a life to the paper that makes it the award winning newspaper that we’re all proud of." I’d framed all my Colorado Press Association awards and they took up wall space behind my computer, reminding me that sometimes I did write good stuff.

"I know what’s going on. I know what you’ve been going through. I have a sense for news just like you do. I was worried about you when Tom left but you seemed to pull it off. Now with Maggie gone, I want you to take time off. Get your life back together. I know I’ve piled too much on you lately and you’ve been covering three beats. I couldn’t even do that. Yes, I yell at you because I want to yell at myself sometimes." She paused and crossed one leg over the other, the silk skirt riding above her knee.

I squirmed in the chair, looking at her more closely. How had I misjudged her? Was I that defensive that I couldn’t see what she was telling me?

"Don’t worry about your copy. I’ve hired two new reporters, one from the Seattle PI and one from the LA Times. They’ll be hot on trying to impress me as they discover a very different life here in Fondis. You take two weeks off. Take care of everything you need to about Maggie." I heard her voice choke and looked at her with surprise.

"You knew Maggie?" I didn’t know that.

"Who do you think designed this fancy office of mine? Maggie. She was always scolding me about clearing the clutter and trying to focus me on the feng shui of the office. I don’t work that way. And neither do you."

Johnni was knocking my socks off. I didn’t realize how much she’d observed me and knew about me. That made me uneasy on the one hand and cared for on the other. I didn’t want to care about shit. I liked her better as the bitch, not a friend of Maggie’s. Shit. And what was this two week off thing all about?

"I’ll be fine. I need to work," I said.

"Sassafras Cambridge, you will take two weeks off." That sounded more like the Johnni I’d come to know and hate. Good.

"Johnni, I need the money," I countered. It was true. I needed every paycheck and especially now with the holidays coming and my car needing a tune up and, and everything.

"Sassy, it is a paid leave of absence. If you need more than two weeks, we’ll make it four. You’ll get your regular paycheck and I’d advancing your Christmas bonus now."

"I don’t know what to say." I just stared at her.

"Nothing. It’s not our pattern, this conversation. And Sassy, if you need any money to cover expenses for Maggie, just ask me."

Jeez. I nodded.

"That’s all. You don’t have to say anything about our conversation to anyone." She opened the door. "Now get out of my office," she said in a loud voice and slipped a hundred dollar bill in my hand. Turning, she winked at me and marched back to her desk.

Entry 24

2004-11-20T13:28:00.000-08:00

"Where am I? What day is it?" I groaned. "What time is it?"

"What life is it?" Victoria answered.

"Oh fuck. This life." I hugged her. I didn’t want her to leave me too. Tom was gone. Maggie was dead. I felt like the byproduct of something evil and unthinkable. I probably didn’t have a job. And I really didn’t have a clue what day it was.

I tried to stand and thought better of it. I crawled into her bathroom, glad I didn’t have to go far. Finally I proved I was a biped and glared into the mirror at some wayward street woman. Maybe one day I’d interview her. Fuck. Maybe I wouldn’t. I stepped into the shower and tried to wash my mind clear. It didn’t work but my body felt better.

With a towel wrapped around me, I walked gently back into the living room to find my clothes. "Better with water," I said.

"Water spirits help us Deirdre says," Victoria reminded me.

"Fuck Deirdre. It was a shower not a spiritual experience."

"Well, you’re in a fucking good mood," she growled.

"Let’s not start. It’s not about us. It’s about how we feel. Well, I’ll speak for myself. How do you feel?"

"Like shit."

"Me too."

"Everybody loved Maggie," she said.

"Me too." I swallowed hard. "Where’s my bag? My cell phone? I gotta call the paper. Or use your computer. Or ?" I rummaged around and found my coat—cell phone in the pocket. Shit. Where was my bag? It must still be in my car. Where was my car? It was too hard to backtrack. Why hadn’t the phone been ringing? I pushed buttons. The battery was dead. "Fuck."

"That’s the word for the day." Victoria was standing now, her not lopsided breasts looked beautiful, natural, friendly.

"Can I use your charger?" I looked around for an outlet.

"Yeah. It’s in the kitchen. Don’t forget the old fashioned way. Use the ground line."

"Oh, yeah." I nodded. I hated myself for being so responsible as I dialed the number.

"Is Johnni in?" My voice sounded off. "Oh. Hi, Johnni. Sassy here." Barely here.

"I want to see you in my office immediately, Sassy Cambridge." I held the phone away from my ear. I didn’t even know where my car was let alone how my body would feel trying to walk across town to the paper.

"Well, that’s why I’m calling…"

"No excuses. Where are you?" Jeez, was she always so efficient and loud?

"I’m at Victoria’s. I’m…"

"Good. Rachel will be right over to pick you up," she interrupted again.

"Okay," I said lamely to the dial tone.

Entry 25

2004-11-20T13:24:00.001-08:00

I stood in the doorway to Johnni’s office, steadying myself against the door jam. Johnni looked up from her cluttered desk and hung up the phone.

"It’s about time." Her voice grated on my ears. "I need to talk to you."

Maybe she’d just fire me and I wouldn’t have to put up with the berating. My head felt twice its size and I was having a hard time keeping it in place. I headed for the big black leather chair and eased my way into it. Rachel hung back, listening for the harangue that was sure to come. Then she’d be the first to tell the newsroom. She annoyed me.

"That will be all Rachel. Close the door behind you," Johnni snapped. She rose from her swivel chair without speaking. I leaned back slowly, letting my head rest against the soft leather. I closed my eyes enough so I could just see through my lashes. I had no energy to fight back today. Just fire me and get it over with. Maybe I’d go to New York and look for a job. Tom probably would have plenty of connections by now.

Johnni paced back and forth in front of the big picture window that overlooked the town square, the perfect location for her predatory instincts. She’d scooped a lot of stories just by looking out that third floor window.

Jeez. I wish she’d just get on with it. Her brow was furrowed, too much expression for her nicely tucked up face. Johnni wasn’t like most reporters I knew, even though she’d once been one of us. I don’t know how many years she’d been the editor but her façade upgraded with her salary. She shopped in New York City, had her hair cut there and kept up with the latest styles. I glanced down at my rumpled, torn jeans and ratty old down jacket. I didn’t give a fuck. Johnni’s red silk suit looked as sharp as her nose. Finally she turned and faced me.

"Sassy, we’ve had our differences," she started. Fuck, she was going to go through the whole litany. I was her problem child, the errant reporter, the fuck up who couldn’t keep a deadline and yata yata.

"Yeah," I said, my eyelids at half mast now.

"Do you know why you work here?" I hadn’t expected that question. I sat up straighter, opened my eyes more. She stared at me with unflinching green eyes. The color changed as she changed her contact lenses like jewelry.

"I love writing the stories people tell. I work here because I can write here and…" I was at a total loss. What did she want from me? Why wasn’t she yelling?

"I hired you. You know why? You remind me of myself at your age." Huh? She must have had more face lifts than I thought. I figured we were the same age.

"How’s that?" I’d stay in reporter mode and keep her talking. I had no clue where this might be going. We were as different as night and day.

"I know you think I’m the queen of bitches. No. Don’t quibble. We’re more alike than you want to admit. It doesn’t matter. I’ve climbed the ladder and when I watch you, you’re my surrogate. You still can do the outrageous stories that are no longer appropriate for me." She walked around the side of her desk, and sat on the edge, leaning back into a stack of folders.

"I let you go. I let you follow that instinctive nose of yours to find stories. I can’t let all my reporters do that. We wouldn’t have a paper. But you have a true sense of it, you find out what others would miss, you bring a life to the paper that makes it the award winning newspaper that we’re all proud of." I’d framed all my Colorado Press Association awards and they took up wall space behind my computer, reminding me that sometimes I did write good stuff.

"I know what’s going on. I know what you’ve been going through. I have a sense for news just like you do. I was worried about you when Tom left but you seemed to pull it off. Now with Maggie gone, I want you to take time off. Get your life back together. I know I’ve piled too much on you lately and you’ve been covering three beats. I couldn’t even do that. Yes, I yell at you because I want to yell at myself sometimes." She paused and crossed one leg over the other, the silk skirt riding above her knee.

I squirmed in the chair, looking at her more closely. How had I misjudged her? Was I that defensive that I couldn’t see what she was telling me?

"Don’t worry about your copy. I’ve hired two new reporters, one from the Seattle PI and one from the LA Times. They’ll be hot on trying to impress me as they discover a very different life here in Fondis. You take two weeks off. Take care of everything you need to about Maggie." I heard her voice choke and looked at her with surprise.

"You knew Maggie?" I didn’t know that.

"Who do you think designed this fancy office of mine? Maggie. She was always scolding me about clearing the clutter and trying to focus me on the feng shui of the office. I don’t work that way. And neither do you."

Johnni was knocking my socks off. I didn’t realize how much she’d observed me and knew about me. That made me uneasy on the one hand and cared for on the other. I didn’t want to care about shit. I liked her better as the bitch, not a friend of Maggie’s. Shit. And what was this two week off thing all about?

"I’ll be fine. I need to work," I said.

"Sassafras Cambridge, you will take two weeks off." That sounded more like the Johnni I’d come to know and hate. Good.

"Johnni, I need the money," I countered. It was true. I needed every paycheck and especially now with the holidays coming and my car needing a tune up and, and everything.

"Sassy, it is a paid leave of absence. If you need more than two weeks, we’ll make it four. You’ll get your regular paycheck and I’d advancing your Christmas bonus now."

"I don’t know what to say." I just stared at her.

"Nothing. It’s not our pattern, this conversation. And Sassy, if you need any money to cover expenses for Maggie, just ask me."

Jeez. I nodded.

"That’s all. You don’t have to say anything about our conversation to anyone." She opened the door. "Now get out of my office," she said in a loud voice. Turning, she winked at me and marched back to her desk.

Entry 23

2004-11-20T13:24:00.000-08:00

Victoria stared at me from the end of her small sofa. My feet clutched at hers. Deirdre wanted to rub our feet or do reflexology or something before she left but I just couldn’t deal with it.

Danny Boy and Deirdre had driven us to Victoria’s place in his cushy milk truck, well adapted to his height and weight. They’d settled us in and wanted to stay and watch over us. I said a definitive "no." They finally believed me and split but not before tucking a big down comforter around us.

"I’m tired but I can’t sleep," I moaned. I felt like shit and my emotions were crumbling somewhere deep in my gut.

"How could she die? Maggie was so perfect, picture perfect. She had the perfect body. What guy didn’t drool just looking at her? She had perfect breasts. Shit. Mine don’t even match."

Victoria had finally found her voice and it was rough from all the crying. I still hadn’t let loose. I didn’t want to, not now, not ever. If I let my emotions rule, I’d die in a river of sorrow. Besides, if I didn’t cry, then maybe it wasn’t real. We’d find out it was all a big mistake. It was just our fears projecting all those awful images on our evening.

"What do you mean, ‘don’t match’?" I fumbled with the concept.

"You know. My breasts don’t match. One’s lopsided. Not even. Certainly far from perfect."

Victoria threw the comforter back and jumped up, pulling her sweater over her head and tossing it aside. She unsnapped her bra. "See?"

I looked hard at her breasts but I guess my vision was still out of whack. They looked fine to me. Full bodied, dark areola, pleasant nipple.

"I think you’re paranoid," I said, getting up to look closer.

"They are uneven. Look, the left one is smaller," Victoria insisted.

I leaned over to look. "Nope. I can’t tell. Here, let me feel." I took a breast in each hand, weighing them. "Vic, you’re wrong. They feel great. Very balanced."

"No. I look in the mirror. I can tell. They’re not perfect. Not like Maggie’s."

"They’re better than mine," I said ripping off my shirt and bra. "See."

"Yours look great. How come everybody has great tits but me?"

"Victoria, get a grip. Yours are wonderful." I bounced my breasts into hers. "Look at those nipples. Jeez, they’ve got a hard on." I giggled. Victoria laughed. It was laughter that built, one wave upon another, whirling laughter that split into an outburst of madness that cresendoed.

We collapsed on the sofa, sobbing, clutching each other. Her tears fell to my cheek. We held each other, rocking our bodies in grief until we fell

Entry 22

2004-11-20T13:16:00.000-08:00

"Fuck, Vic." I’d switched to kamikazes after that first power drink.

She turned swollen, mournful eyes to me.

"I gotta write an obit. Who’s going to handle the funeral?"

Victoria downed her drink and waved for another. I raised my hand to make it two.

"She didn’t have any family," I said.

"We are her family." It was the first thing Victoria had said.

"Yes. We were. Are. Her father abandoned her mother when she was just a little kid. Then her mom died and she lived with some aunt that didn’t live very long after that. Then when she married that creep of a husband who cheated on her. After that she finally got a divorce and ended up in little ol’ Fondis." I smiled at the waiter who served our drinks. I lifted the kamikaze high. "To Maggie." I tossed it down my throat. What a rush. I was feeling loose and slippery inside.

"Maggie was a star waiting to be born again in Fondis, into our family, the three of us, like sisters. She was so successful with her interior decorating business. Jeez, I don’t want to write the obit." I sank my head to the table, pushing my hands out in front of me. Something fell to the floor.

"I’ll get it," a man at the next table smiled and picked up a napkin holder. "Looks like you ladies need some company." He stood.

"Excuse me, sir, this table is off limits to you." Kiloman turned his back on the man as he set two plates of food in front of us. "Sassy girl, you two got the blues, I can tell, but ya need some food. Now eat up."

"You’re too good to me, Kiloman. I just need another drink and then I’ll eat." The food smelled delicious but I wasn’t hungry.

"No more drinks ‘til you get something on your stomach, little one." He patted my head.

"I had dinner," I objected.

"How long ago, Sassy?"

"Uh. Five or six o’clock, wouldna ya say, Vic?" She wasn’t listening.

"It’s almost closing time, Sass. Now, eat up and you can have one after dinner drink before I lock up. I have to look after my other customers. Oh, and here comes somebody you want to see." He turned and left. My vision was foggy. It was hard to follow him into the fuzzy puzzle of a crowd.

"Vic, ya okay?" I threw my arm over her shoulder. She shook her head and leaned into me.

"Let’s eat, huh? Kiloman is right. Then we’ll figure out what to do."

I took a bite of ratatouille and closed my eyes. Delicious. Maybe we could have something chocolate for dessert with our after dinner drink. My insides were so hollow there was room for lots more to drink. I opened my eyes. Victoria was eating. I looked up at a blur that resembled Danny Boy and Deirdre.

"Fuck."

Entry 21

2004-11-20T11:51:00.000-08:00

Grabbing Victoria around the waist, I pulled her haltingly down the corridor, trying to run. I didn’t know where. I just knew this place reeked of death and we had to get out. I saw an "Exit" sign and pointed. Victoria no longer resisted but stumbled along next to me. We jammed our bodies through the door and headed blindly down the cement stairway forever. At last I pulled a door open. We’d be out of this place of madness.

"Fuck," I muttered, staring at the massive interior workings of the hospital basement. Turning, I urged Victoria back up the stairs. I’d missed the small sign indicating the outside exit door. We pushed through and I gulped the icy air that bit my lungs as snow struck my cheeks. A fucking blizzard roared around us.

"Where’d I park?" I asked no one in particular because I knew Victoria wasn’t listening to me. I studied the building, figured out where the front entrance was and headed off in the direction I hoped I’d park. I’ve never been so happy to see my ol’ VW bug. Opening the passenger door, I slung the shit off the seat and helped Victoria settle.

Driving was stupid but walking would be more so. I inched along, seeking delineators on the side of the road. Squinting, I checked for street signs which were already masked with layers of icy snow. Shit. I turned, sensing my way toward the mortuary on the south side of town. Victoria sounded like a seal, sobs wrenching from her gut.

"Vic, here we are. I’m Lewis, you’re Clark. We made it. Destination mortuary." She didn’t respond to my feeble attempt at levity. I pulled her out and we slipped and slid on the ice as we headed for the front door. I could see a light on in an office but the door was locked. I pounded on the door, looking frantically for a doorbell.

"Hey, let us in. It’s freezing out here. We need to get in," I shouted at the ornate dark door. "Shit." I kept pounding and pounding until my fist was numb.

A sound. The lock turning. The door squeaked open an inch. "We are closed, ladies. Please call back in the morning," a man spoke in pseudo politeness. Slim ball.

"No, we need to see Maggie," I shouted to the now closed and re-locked door. "Damn. C’mon, Vic. There’s got to be a back door to this place." I guided us around the south side of the building, hoping for some protection from the storm. The hairs in my nostrils froze, my face felt like an ice mask. Edging around the corner, I pulled Vic along. A janitor carried a trash bag out the back door and headed for the dumpster. I thought about running now, getting in while he was distracted. But there wasn’t enough time. I just hoped he’d leave it open. I watched his blurred figure return, hoping we were so snow covered he wouldn’t notice us. Good. He was back inside. I tried the door. Bingo.

"Vic, this way," I whispered and led her down a dark hallway. We turned and I saw a dimly lit room. Tiptoeing we crept nearer. A body lay on a gurney, swathed in white. Shit. What the hell was I doing here? I forced myself to enter and walk closer. It was Maggie. Stone cold Maggie. Perfect Maggie. Victoria caught her breath in staccatic nips.

"Maggie," I choked out, my hand reaching for her hand, her hard, cold hand. Maggie, beloved Maggie. "She’s dead. We gotta get out of here."

Victoria was my shadow and equally mindless as one. We ran down the hallway and out into the gripping arms of the blizzard, the door slamming behind us. I kept running, holding Victoria’s hand, slipping, grabbing bushes, running until I couldn’t breathe. I stopped and vomited.

Back in the car, I drove blindly, just drove through the snow. My mind felt like snow, like I couldn’t tune anything in. Everything was crazy. I was in an alley, one of the infamous back alleys of Fondis where dark and weird things were known to happen. It was always a good place for an interview. I stopped the car, took a deep breath, still tasting bile in my mouth.
"Victoria. Are you alright?" I shouted. Like she was deaf and dumb or something. She made a sound. Fuck. How could she be alright. How could we ever be alright again? "Get out," I ordered. She did my bidding.

"We’re at the Black and Blues Club," I informed her. She didn’t respond. I pulled open the old screen door, lifted the latch on the alley door and we stepped into the warm kitchen. Kiloman looked up and grinned, a gold tooth glinting.

"Hey, Sassy. What you doin’ out on a cold night like this girl? You look like you seen a ghost. Look at you, girl. You’ve got icicles on that stubby hair of yours." He shook his head.

"We need a drink, Kiloman. This is Victoria." He dried his hands and came over, offering a long bony black hand. Victoria shook automatically. Tears were frozen on her cheeks. Kiloman opened the club years ago and I’d interviewed him several times, always helping his business. He always compted my drinks.

"Sure looks like you girls need a drink. Come on out front now." I followed his tall lanky body past the store room, the backroom reserved for special guests and into the main lounge. "You two sit here now and let Kiloman take care of you."

It felt good to thaw out but my whole body burned as the warmth seeped in. "Vic?"

Kiloman put two mugs on the table and settled in a chair across from us.

"I said we needed a drink, not hot coffee," I complained.

"Taste it." He chuckled.

I sipped the steaming liquid. Whatever it was did the trick. The hot fluid flowed into my system, burning with liquor and heat. "Good. Yes, perfect." I clinked my mug against Victoria’s. "Here’s to death."

She took a drink and started crying again.

"Looks like you two have some talkin’ to do. I’ll be back to check on you." Kiloman slipped gracefully into the crowd.

Entry 20

2004-11-19T15:12:00.000-08:00

My cell phone vibrated and jingled. Funny I hadn’t had a call the whole time I was at Cerridwen’s. Maybe I was in a time warp. Enough sci-fi for me now.

"Hello?"

"Sassy, hi. Victoria. Where are you?"

"Just driving into town. Why? What’s up?"

"I thought we might catch dinner at Kuan Yin’s in China Town and then go to see Maggie."

"Great, Victoria. Perfect. Want to meet at my place and drive together?"

"Sure. See you there." I pushed the off button and swung unto Main Street.
***
"Are you okay, Sass? Eating Moo Goo Gai Pan and not your usual hot and spicey that takes your head off?" Victoria, balancing a shrimp on chopsticks, looked up at me.

"Jeez, Vic, I’m fine. There’s just so much going on and I feel kinda mellow right now." Mellow food seemed in order. Should I tell her about Cerridwen? Why was I hesitating? This wasn’t like Dr. O. and all that unexplainable underground weirdness. "Shall we catch a movie after we see Maggie? Take the night off and play?"

"Sounds good to me. There’s a new movie with Susan Sarandon and Twinkle Barbow playing at the Chick Flick over on 69." Twinkle was a Fondis girl who had made it big. I’d interviewed her in the early days of her career. Fat chance I’d get one now. One of her movies even premiered here but I couldn’t get near her with all the paparazzi.

"Great."

We bumped into Deirdre as we headed out the door.

"Sassy, Victoria, I’m so glad to see you two." Her eyes were big and almost teary. "Oh, Great Goddess, don’t you feel it?" She shivered her body in exaggeration, her red hair flaming from her head. I wondered if there was a comet coming or some strange astronomical event.
"What, Deirdre?" Victoria asked.

"It’s awful. The mice ate the breasts off the Goddess. I know it’s an omen." Her violet blue eyes widened.

"Deirdre, what the hell are you talking about?" I asked.

"The mice. It’s an epidemic. I don’t like to kill them and the cats help keep them away. But I just discovered the Goddess missing her breasts."

"Mice. I got the picture, Deirdre. Now, explain, slowly, what about the goddess?"

"I’m so frazzled. I’m supposed to meet Letitia here for dinner and I had to leave in a hurry and oh, I’m sorry. I had a Goddess carved out of a hunk of soap on the center of my altar. The mice ate part of her. Her breasts." Tears welled in her eyes.

Deirdre could be as loony as her Boulder friend Letitia but I could tell she was sincerely distressed over this silly business. I hugged her. "It’s going to be okay, Deirdre. Have fun with Letitia."

Victoria kissed her cheek and we slipped out into the crisp night air.

"She takes it all a bit too seriously, don’t you think?" Victoria rolled her eyes.

"Yeah."

***
Imitating Deirdre in the elevator had us doubled over in laughter. We clasped our hands over our mouths, suppressing giggles as we walked down the sterile hospital hallway. We slipped past the nurse’s station unseen and tiptoed up to Maggie’s door. She’d love our re-enactment of the scene at the restaurant. Victoria pushed the door open and walked in with me tight on her heels.

"What?" Victoria’s voice faltered. I peeked around her shoulder. An old woman was sleeping in Maggie’s bed.

"Where’s Maggie?" I whispered. Victoria frowned and shrugged. We turned in unison and hurried back to the nurse’s station. A bleached blonde nurse lifted her head from a stack of charts.

"Yes?"

"Where’s Maggie?" I demanded.

"We’re looking for Margaret Gellis, Room 1212," Victoria said.

The nurse turned to her computer and finally back to us. "I’m sorry. She’s been moved to the hospice wing and she has requested no visitors."

"But she’s our sister," I almost yelled.

"We’re her only family," Victoria explained.

"I can only tell you what it says. She was moved late last night." She sighed. "I suppose you could go check at the hospice admittance desk. Take the elevator to the 11th floor, make a right, at the end of the hallway, go left. You can’t miss it."

In the elevator Victoria squeezed my hand so hard my rings bit flesh and I yelped. We marched resolutely to the end of the hallway and hung a left. I was good with directions. No one was at the nurse’s station. Victoria tried the door but it was locked. I found a button to push and jammed it with my finger. Victoria and I paced in opposite directions for twenty minutes, each of us taking a turn at ringing the god damned bell. No one came. Shit.
Victoria pounded on the locked metal doors just as they swung open and she careened backward into me and we both tumbled to the floor.

"Watch your step, both of you," barked an angry hospital worker and stalked off down the hallway. We both fumbled as we scrambled to our feet. Any other day we would have been laughing. Now we were just trying to catch that door before it closed.

"Fuck," Victoria whimpered as her fingers caught between the cold metal. I pulled from above and we managed to get it open and slip inside. No one was around so we headed down a hallway, looking in each room.

"Where is she?" I whispered.

"Don’t know who you’re lookin’ for. Just know it’s after hours and this is a locked unit." A burly nurse grabbed both of us by the arm and did a turnaround.

"Wait a minute. We’re looking for Maggie," Victoria said. "Our sister." His grip loosened only slightly.

"Can’t let you in now. Let’s go to the front desk and I’ll take a look, see how she’s doin’." He kicked the metal door open and propelled us through. Damn. We were almost there.

"What’s her name again?" His voice was softer now.

"Margaret Gellis. She was in Room 1212. Can’t we go see her? We come every day. I know she’s expecting us," Victoria almost whined.

He looked a long time at his records and then his big black face looked up gently. "You know what unit this is, don’t you?" he asked softly.

"Yes. Hospice, they told us downstairs. We want to see Maggie," I tried my efficient reporter’s voice but it failed.

"I’m sorry, ladies. Ms. Gellis is no longer with us. She passed away several hours ago. Her body is at the Fondis Mortuary."

My mouth was open all ready to protest whatever he said.

"Nooooo," Victoria wailed, clutching her hand to her mouth.

I stared at the man, trying to connect his words with any semblance of truth. He was wrong, of course. He’d looked at the wrong chart. He just wasn’t going to let us in to see Maggie now. Victoria was shaking and sobs cracked open the pain that streaked around us.

"I’m sorry. You’re not supposed to find out like this. We usually have a counselor here," he reached up and patted my hand, still resting on the counter. I was waiting for him to say something real.

"Maggie Gellis," I said. "We want to see her."

"She’s dead, Sass," Victoria screamed. "She’s dead." I spun into her arms, holding her, not believing it, the truth wracking through her being, pounding at me. My head ached.

"Why won’t they let us see Maggie?" I whimpered.

Entry 19

2004-11-19T15:07:00.000-08:00

"Come to the edge of the circle," Cerridwen instructed, as she finished lighting candles that circled the table. "Now walk around it three times in each direction." I felt her aging eyes access me. I walked like the clock three times and turned walking the other way and stopped.

"Ah. Just as I suspected. You are ready for a change. Don’t ask questions now, Sassy. Your choices, all of them, create your life. When you walk moonwise, you are in a change pattern. It may feel like upheaval but it will be resolved."

This psychic shit was getting the best of me. But I was willing to shut up and listen.

"You stopped in the east, a place of new beginnings."

I’d totally lost my sense of direction once I’d stepped into the dome, which must be attached to the back of the log cabin in such a way that it is hidden. Weird.

"Your thoughts are wondering. Be present to the moment and make yourself comfortable."

I untied my sneakers and dropped them to the floor, settling on the most comfortable surface I’d ever felt. It molded to my body and was warm. I sighed.

"Good. I want to take thirteen slow, deep breaths, filling your lungs completely before exhaling," her voice was soft now, hypnotic. I took a deep breath and watched her begin to circle the table, fanning an eagle wing over the smudge bowl. And then the eagle flew over me and I closed my eyes and drifted into the count.

I lost count of time as I felt her hands on the crown of my head, hot hands radiating energy down into me, down my arms, down to my toes. Whatever was happening must be mending up my holey aura so it could be holy. I wanted to laugh but was too far away from my body which hung out way down there. An angel took my hand while faeries tickled my feet. I was in a shimmering golden field, dressed in flowers of brilliant colors along my chakras. Beings of Light surrounded me with the most benevolent energy I’d ever felt.

When I awoke I was overwhelmed with a great sense of well being. I could handle anything, do anything, be anything. And I knew was aura was in tip top shape.

Cerridwen sat peacefully in a rocking chair with a sweet smile on her face. "Feel better?"
"You know I do." My voice worked.

"Come back and see me, Sassy. We’ll need to continue the work. I’m glad to see you respond so well to this energy."

"It’s great. Whatever it is. I have to come back to interview you about goats too." As much as I bitched about Johnni, I appreciated the fact that she let me write about what I wanted to write about. I always found interesting people and places. She said it was the oddball beat. I hated hard news. Sitting in meetings for hours wasn’t in my scope and writing dull things and trying to make them interesting. Of course, the mayor’s story could end up to be the scoop of the year.

"I’ll walk back through the woods with you. Rasputin won’t bother you anymore but there’s a pasture back there I want to check out."

I think that was my invitation to leave. I got off the table slowly and pulled on my shoes.

"Here. Drink this," Cerridwen said, offering me a strange concoction. It tasted delicious. "It will balance the sense of disorientation that may occur when you merge the world where you were and the here and now space." Again I wished I had my tape recorder going. "I used flower essences on you to help with all the challenges you are facing. Always know, Sassy, that there is help. You are never alone. Just ask." I was following her out the back door of the cabin. The last light of day gleamed through the pine trees, streaking a golden swath. A deer wandered into silhouette, nibbling.

Entry 18

2004-11-17T16:32:00.000-08:00

I parked my car at the Rec. Center, walked through the park past the tennis courts. Maggie had stomped me at the silly game just last spring. As I climbed the wooden fence, my pant leg snagged on a splinter and tore. Damn. Deirdre told me long ago that this was the short cut to Cerridwen’s place. Just follow the goat path, she’d advised.

Now, dodging through the trees I wondered if the old goat trail still existed. There. The pine needles and duff scattered to reveal a narrow path. Up, up, calves burning, I hiked. The ponderosa pines grew denser. Some people said Cerridwen was a witch, others that she was a reincarnated Druidess. Why hadn’t I written a story about her? At least I was lugging my burdensome camera bag.

I saw the caprine herd grazing peacefully as the trees opened on pasture, grasses chilled by recent snows but still long and swaying in the breeze. Danny Boy was right. I should have a hat. I’d jammed an old hand knit stocking cap in the glove compartment last winter and wondered if it was still there--but I wasn’t going back.

Pausing, I watched a doe climb her front hooves up a tree and stretch to nibble on a pine bough. That’s when I got a whiff of the buck. Damn. The acrid odor gagged me. I searched the herd to for the king of piss when I heard something behind me and swirled. He was coming my way, running fast, his beard stiff with urine. I jumped behind a tree. Shit. He rammed the tree and turned. I ran to the next tree but he was facile. He snagged my jacket with a horn as he charged past me. I landed on my butt hard. Jumping to my feet I sprinted in the opposite direction.

"Rasputin," a loud and wiry voice screeched and I saw Cerridwen, her white hair flying as she hobbled, flailing a broom at the wayward buck. I didn’t wait to see what happened next. I headed for the gate and let myself through, locking it and breathing hard.

"Glad he didn’t hurt you, Sassy," she panted as she unlatched the gate and slipped through. "You can feel the barometric change? So can he. Plus the girls are starting to cycle again. Did you see them flip their tails inviting his attention?" I hadn’t noticed. Jeez. I prided myself on observing the unusual details. That’s what made me a good reporter. I just wasn’t myself these days.

"Got to pull them out of that pasture and get them down in the paddock to breed. I don’t like them eating pine needles, does something to their breeding cycle and they abort." She pulled the lid of a metal garbage can and scooped out a tin of grain. "Here you go. You just shake that can and those girls will come running right through the gate when I open it. Then get out of the way because Rasputin’s coming too." She chuckled. I did as I was told. Safe on the other side of the woven wire fencing, I pulled out my camera and got a shot of the herd running toward Cerridwen. Changing lenses, I got a tight shot of the mean eyed buck in hot pursuit of his girls.

"Now, come on down to the house," Cerridwen said as she secured the lid on the grain. "I should’ve known you’d come the back way." She used the broomstick as a staff and I followed her down the path to her log cabin in the woods.

Sipping from the bone china tea cup, I began to feel at home as Cerridwen served homemade chocolate chip cookies and took a seat across the round oak table.

"Do you mind if I take some photos?" I asked.

"No, no, not now," she said and waved her hand in dismissal, staring hard at me. It wasn’t the first time I’d been rejected. I was in her territory so I’d wait ‘til it seemed okay with her. I took a bite of cookie and relaxed. She reminded me of someone but I couldn’t quite figure it out.

"Now I see," she said, cocking her head to one side. "Your aura is full of holes. You’re leaking. Just finish your tea, and I’ll take care of everything." She blew across her tea cup and slurped. I was already into another cookie. No wonder she was Deirdre’s mentor. She sounded just like her—or visa versa. Maybe she just reminded me of my grandmother.

"There now. Feel better, don’t you?"

I nodded. "Nothing like chocolate chip cookies to soothe the soul."

"And yours needs more than chocolate, Sassy. Now, come."

I rose from the table and followed down a narrow hallway that opened to a carpeted ramp—and gasped as we walked into a geodesic dome, a pyramid suspended from the center over what appeared to be a massage table. Massive chunks of gem stones circled the table, rose quartz, fluorite, malachite and others I didn’t recognize.

Entry 17

2004-11-17T16:09:00.000-08:00

The next few days scrambled by in a madness of work (I made nice with Johnni) and love (Tom and I gulped and groped each other every night) and angst (Maggie seemed more and more ephemeral).

"Come with me to New York, Sassy," he said once again as we stood outside the security line at Fondis International Airport. "We were meant to be together. You know it. I know it. It just took years and circumstances for us to acknowledge it." His arms were around me, his lips to my ear.

"Tom. I can’t. Not now."

"I have enough money and you’ve always wanted to go there."

"Tom. No." I pulled back. "You still have to work out your issues with Sue Ellen. I have two big stories I’m working on. One of them you bequeathed me. I promise to come visit. I know we have something. But let’s not rush it."

"Sassy, you’re always right. Damn it. I love you. Please remember that. Come for Christmas, okay? I’ll send you a ticket."

"Maybe that will work. We’ll talk just like we always do. Now, go. I don’t want you to miss your flight." I clenched my jaw, holding back the emotion. He turned.

"And Tom. I love you too." My eyes filled and he started back toward me. I shook my head and turned, running from the airport. I couldn’t find my car and it took an hour as I fumbled around the poorly planned parking garage. By then I was pissed which was better than being a soppy mess.

I saw a giant of a man lingering in 121B. He leaned against a support beam. Shit. That’s where I’d left my car. I’d written the aisle number on a piece of paper and jammed it in my pocket, just discovering it. Well, I had to get on with my day. I marched confidently toward my car, avoiding any eye contact. Then there was a movement and I recognized him. He wore a furry overcoat and a Russian cap pulled down over his ears. The day was as bitter cold as my heart. As I neared, he opened his arms and I fell against him, sobbing.

"Danny Boy," I managed.

He clucked and petted me. "You should wear a cap in this cold weather," he worried over my bare head with his paw of a hand.

Sniffling, I pulled back. "C’mon. I’ll give you a ride."

"You know I won’t fit in your car." His laughter rumbled deep in his body and made me feel better. "I came to give you a message. Cerridwen wants to see you."

"Really?"

He nodded. "I have to go now. Take care of yourself. And remember to call me if you need help." With a grace unexpected from someone his size, he slipped through the cars and disappeared. He was like my fairy godfather.

Cerridwen? No one got an invite from her. Deirdre would go by and studied with her but most often she was just known as the old lady hermit who hung out in the forests east of Fondis. Yes. Going to see Cerridwen would distract me from my present woes. And maybe I’d get a story out of it. My camera bag was in the trunk of my car. I’d love to get a portrait of the old woman.

Entry 16

2004-11-13T16:11:00.000-08:00

I stopped at Move It, the newest women’s fitness center in Fondis and pushed through my half hour routine. I had to give it to Johnni on this one. It was her idea that all the reporters and staff at the paper have a gym membership. I admit I don’t use mine as often as I should. Today it was just what I needed.

I scurried through the market, throwing items in my cart and wondering what would please Tom. I’d swivel and go the other way if I recognized someone. This was really one of the most social areas in town and I could easily spend an extra half hour here. I speed dialed Tom.

"Anything special I should pick up?" I asked.

"If I get to see you, that’s special enough for me."

"Oh, stop. I mean. Dessert?"

"You’re sweet enough for me." Jeez, I never even knew he could talk like that.

"No, really. They have some baklava on special. Shall I snag some? Or ?"

"I’ll bring dessert. See you in an hour?"

"No. I mean, give me two hours, okay?"

"Compromise. Hour and a half. Remember I fly out on Thursday so I want as much of your time as I can before I leave."

"Come in an hour." I sighed, hung up and hurried through the check stand.

No time for yeast bread. I stirred up my aunt’s fine Celtic bread and popped it in the oven to bake while I showered, shaved my legs, glanced at my meaningless wardrobe, put on my make up and pondered over the right perfume. Tom. I couldn’t believe this dream was coming true after all my longings, my lonely nights of fantasy and self gratification. Tom was coming here, not just like we used to hang out but here, on a date, and …

Wearing jeans and a v-neck tee shirt with my grandmother’s pearls, I minced garlic and sliced mushrooms for the best ever spaghetti sauce. Tom let himself in like he always did. Spook rubbed against his ankles, purring.

I turned and suddenly felt shy. Friend to lover, I didn’t know how to act. He paused and our eyes met telling each other the same thing. Here we were, now, totally sober. Were we ruining a good friendship with a little sex? Well, it had hardly been a little sex. The moments ticked by and my breath became shallow, my body willing to give him everything. He moved first.

"This needs to go in the freezer," he said, his voice husky, pulling open the top door on the frig and pulling a box of spumoni out of the brown bag. "And this is for now and later." He placed the Chianti on my small kitchen table, set with a red checkered table cloth and two candles. It was a small kitchen and when he turned, we were inches apart.

His long fingers caressed my cheek and slid over the down of my hair. He kissed my forehead gently, the tip of my nose and teased my lips with his. I was on fire, the zing of him flying into my body, knobbing my nipples, pounding my nether regions. I couldn’t speak. His lips followed to my ear lobes and the chill flashed along the surface of my body. A hand cupped my breast and I gasped.

"The garlic," I managed and spun to pull the pan off the burner just in time. I pulled the bread out of the over, set it on a rack before I turned everything off, and reached for him, this time repeating what he had done to me, teasing, tasting, licking, tugging. Our bodies pulled together like magnets. He managed to pick me up and carry me to the living room. So gently he placed me on the sofa and straddled me. I unzipped his pants, knowing the hardness that wanted release. I reached up and pushed the soft velour sweater up. He pulled it over his head and tossed it, his eyes never leaving mine. He obviously went to the gym more than I did. I tugged at his pants and he stood, dropping them to the floor. My Celtic god, perfect in every way. How was this possible? He pulled off my jeans and I slipped out of my shirt.

"God, you’re beautiful," he whispered, staring at the black lace bra and bikini panties, a gift from Victoria one year when she was urging me to be more feminine. His fingers teased under my bra. I arched and he undid the strap. Now his lips sucked. I was moist, yearning for him to enter. Somehow he removed my panties as his tongue flicked into my cleft. Our moans harmonized until we were only, grabbing, clutching, skimming, sucking, rocking into oblivion. I never wanted him to leave. Just stay deep inside me forever.

After dinner we spoon fed spumoni to each other and laughed and cried as we watched "Bridget Jones’ Diary." He always watched chick flicks with me. It was more fun now. I wonder if he’d fanaticized all those years like I had.

Entry 15

2004-11-13T14:22:00.000-08:00

I followed Victoria into her condo overlooking Lake Fondis and slumped into an antique chair at her cluttered dining room table.

"I’m making Christmas cards here," she pointed, her voice cheery though I knew it wasn’t helping either of us. "Hanukkah here." I glanced at the various rubber stamps, colored paper, envelopes and accoutrements of her creative venture. "Solstice here." I nodded, glum. Who gave a shit about the holidays?

"Okay. I give up. Look at me, Sassy." I did. "You have a choice. Either I give you a homeopathic remedy for your hangover or I fix you a Bloody Mary." I knew in the next room there was an ornate chest filled with little vials of remedies. Victoria was a student of the famous homeopath down the valley. As a massage therapist she was always learning new healing techniques. I appreciated her giving me a choice.

I glared out the window at the gloomy day as tiny snowflakes began to fall. "Bloody Mary."

"I knew it." She smiled and handed it to me, not making a judgment about my choice. "Come. Sit here by the fireplace." She sat in the rocker and I sank into the oversized chair and stirred the bright red liquid with the celery stalk.

"Want to talk about it?" She sipped her tea.

"Not particularly. Tell me what’s going on with you. I’ve been rather self obsessed lately. Sorry."

"And pleasantly distracted." She grinned. "My business is picking up. I sell a lot of gift certificates at this time of year. I had some new ones printed up at Fondis Printing. Did you know there was a new owner?" I did. I was going to interview him later in the week.

"Denise moved back to Illinois to take care of her aging mother," she continued. "I really miss her. I’d take in any kind of printing project and she just took care of it. I was uneasy when I found out Chadwick James bought it. Turns out he’s a distant cousin to Denise and wanted a more rural setting. Although I hardly think of Fondis as rural anymore," she said.

I was getting interested. Not so much in Chadwick James as in Victoria’s spark when she talked about him. I took a long drink and settled into listening mode.

"I want to make bumper stickers up. I took an extra course in reflexology last summer and wanted to advertise it. ‘Reflexology will knock your socks off.’ That was to be the bumper sticker." I chuckled. "So I went in to talk to Denise but she’d already moved. And there was Chadwick." Her voice softened.

"I’m going to interview him later this week. Anything special about him?" I drained the glass and began to crunch on the celery.

"Everything’s special about him. He’s got a great accent and he really is quite brilliant. He gave me a lot of ideas about how to promote my business and we went out to lunch together."

Victoria and I bonded when we gave up men years ago but of course we both fell off that wagon as regularly as possible.

"So, you got laid too, eh?" I laughed.

"Not yet. I don’t want it just to be sex. So I think we’re developing a friendship." She smiled in that stupid way women do when they’re not seeing the whole picture but really liking what they think the future will be like.

"Do you have a date?"

"No and yes. He’s coming over to look at my computer tonight. So, it’s not a date but he’s coming here. And I’m going to fix him dinner. He doesn’t know that part yet."

"Well, you make a wicked remedy. I am feeling better. Are you up for a walk. I think a little fresh air in my lungs will help." My cell phone vibrated and then spit out its silly tune.

"Hello?"

"Sassy me love." It was Tom’s deep voice. "Are you busy?"

"Victoria and I are just going for a walk along the lake. How are you feeling?"

"Which part of me? My head is raging. My body is sated." Oh, God, I knew what he meant.

"Dinner tonight?"

"My place. I’ll call you from the market," I said.

"No, let me bring it."

"Tom, last night was on you. Tonight’s on me. And no bubbly."

"No booze?"

"I didn’t say that, did I?"

"Let me bring the wine."

"Okay. Talk to you later."

"Sassy Cambridge, I won’t ever forget last night. Bye."

I clicked off and followed Victoria to the hall closet, my grin back in place.

"Here, Sass, wear my cloak. It’s getting nasty out there. So what did Mr. Wonderful have to say?"

"Ummm. He’s coming over tonight. Help me figure out what to fix. It was such a bright idea but now I’m not sure I can beat last night."

"Silly girl Sass. Don’t try. What’s your favorite food?"

"Spaghetti. With fresh herbs and lots of garlic and…"

"Yes, I know. I’ve been privileged to eat your spaghetti many times. So, serve that."

"It’s not very fancy."

"Remember, this is Tom. He knows you. He won’t expect the likes of a restaurant. You want a real relationship not something as phony as what he had with Sue La De Dah Ellen."

"You’re right. Of course. And I have a great recipe for French bread." We stretched our legs into a steady pace. My lungs filled with crisp, snowy air. "I’m feeling much better, Vic. Thanks."

Entry 14

2004-11-12T17:25:00.000-08:00

"Sassy, did you hurt your back? You were walking a little stiffly," Maggie said as Victoria and I settled on her hospital bed. Maggie looked great today. She looked good every day, it was her energy level that had been sinking lately.

"My back, my legs, my thighs, my.."

"You got laid," Victoria shouted.

"Not so loud," I shushed. "And you’re right." I grinned. Maggie sat up and leaned forward as Victoria, cross legged, scooted closer. I told them about Tom, about his job about the lunch and the champagne and cabernet. I didn’t tell them about the scoop he’d given me.

"He’s such a hunk," Maggie said, sagging back into her pillows with a smile on her face.

"Details. Did you make love in the restaurant?" Victoria leered.

"No. He’s quite a gentleman. He knew we were too loaded to drive so he called a cab. We almost did it in the taxi." They hooted. "I can’t tell you details because I don’t remember them all. We made love all night long and I woke up with him this morning. You know, that’s nice. He didn’t sneak out regretting what we’d done. Spook was asleep on his chest. It was so sweet." If my grin was foolish, I couldn’t help it.

"And he’s leaving?" Maggie frowned.

"Yup. That’s the bad news. But last night felt so good. It’s been such a long time. I’d forgotten how great I could feel."

"Planning a trip to New York soon?" Maggie goaded.

"No. I mean it was fabulous and all that but get real. I’m not stupid. You know how long I’ve had a crush on him." They nodded and murmured.

"He just broke up with Sue Ellen. It may have just been a re-bound fuck but I loved every minute of it." God, I’d love to go to New York.

"Always practical Sassy," Victoria said.

"Look who’s talking."

"C’mon you two. I’m glad you’re both here. I don’t want to break the mood but I needed to talk to you," Maggie said.

"We’re all ears." Victoria was trying to keep it light but I knew it was going to get deep and dark.

"I love you two so much. You made me feel at home here in Fondis where it’s hard to get to know people. My life has been so blessed by you two. I want you to know that, to know how much I appreciate and love you," Maggie’s voice was loosing volume and we inched forward, careful not to bump her body beneath the covers. Victoria grabbed my hand and we both reached a hand for Maggie.

"We love you too," we said in unison and smiled.

"I’m leaving soon," Maggie continued.

"No, you’re not. You’re getting better," Victoria interrupted. I frowned at her.

"I just wanted you to know. No good-byes. Just good times remembered." Maggie yawned, her delicate hand covering her mouth.

"I remember the time we went skinny dipping out at the lake and the sheriff came along but he was off duty and joined us," I said and laughed.

"I remember the time we had a picnic and pretended we were a wine fountain. We laid with our heads together spurting wine up out of our mouths like the three muses," Victoria said. We were all smiling.

"I remember when we all went on vacation to Orcas Island and Victoria jumped off the ferry when she saw a whale." We laughed.

"You got us in big trouble that day, girl," Maggie said.

"Well, what about when you were speeding across the Utah desert and Deirdre was with that time and said we had to stop at a vortex and then she met this guy who felt it too. We had to pull her into the car and you took off like a bat out of hell," I said.

"And when that cop stopped us we were busted for sure with a bottle of open wine and a couple of joints in the glove compartment," Victoria continued.

"You think it was my fault? I saved our sorry asses," Maggie said.

"Yeah, you did. You sweet talked that cop like I’ve never seen before or since." Again we were all laughing but I saw Maggie’s eyelids drooping.

"Maggie, I’ve got to go now."

"What? And recuperate? Or meet Mr. New Yorker?" Victoria teased.

I gave her a Mona Lisa smile.

We both slid off the bed and kissed Maggie on the cheeks.

"Hasta luego," Victoria said.

"Sleep tight, Sweet Pea," I said.

In the elevator Victoria and I held hands, tears running down our cheeks.

Entry 13

2004-11-12T13:55:00.000-08:00

Entry 13

"Tommy, are you really going to be okay?" I hiccuped. When I’d said no more champagne, he ordered a bottle of Cabernet. It was almost empty.

"I’m fine. Finer by the minute. How ‘bout you?"

"You know what Isis says about the word "fine", dontch?" I giggled.

He shook his head. "It means "fucking insecure, neurotic and emotional." We both laughed so hard we fell against each other, gasping for breath.

"Guess that sums us both up, huh?" he finally said, putting his arm around my shoulder. I’d managed not to spill the beans about any of my pending problems.

"So, any hot tips you’re going to pass on before you split?" I sat up and took a bite of the exotic dessert dripping with slashes of chocolate.

"Oh, yeah," he said, tasting some kind of raspberry delight. "That’s why we were going to have lunch. Is it still lunch?" We both glanced past the tapestry window coverings to the darkness of late afternoon and started laughing again.

"The hot tip?" I was still employed with the local daily and always needed another lead.
"It’s really a good one. And it’s also one of the reasons Sue Ellen dumped me. I was researching this story on the mayor." I giggled. The mayor was always a hot topic of conversation because he was a lush, had a pushy blonde wife who lied for him all the time and wanted him to run for governor of the Colorado.

"Remember when I did that story about Lanny Rose?"

"The stripper down at the Come & Go who was getting her Ph.D. in gender psychology?" The Come & Go Strip Club managed to stay open because it paid lots of taxes to the town, had a slick lawyer lobbyist and paid everybody under the table. Plus it looked top drawer on first impression passing itself off as the dining establishment High Steaks.

"Yeah. Well, it seemed like there was more of a story there if I could actually get an angle so I went back a few times. Sue Ellen’s uncle saw me there, passed the word along to the family. It didn’t sit well. Anyway, guess who was there each time? His Honor, the Mayor."

"No. How can he be so conspicuous?"

"And that’s not the only thing." Tom leaned closer and lowered his voice. "He’s dating one of the dancers."

"No way."

"Way. And she’s not a she but a he." I frowned. Was he saying what I thought he was saying?
"The girl friend is a transvestite. The mayor is gay." Wow. Wait ‘til his wife finds out. No wonder Tom wanted to scoop this one. It was in the National Enquirer category. He could probably sell it to the Colorado Cheat Sheet, that new publication that can risk printing all the corruption in little towns in the state because it’s based in the big city. The circulation was soaring.

"I’m giving you the story, Sassy. All my notes, interviews, everything. Yes, I interviewed the owner of the Come & Go and have it all on tape." He grinned mischievously.

"You give it, I’ll take it," I quipped. God, he was so cute when he was investigating and hot on the trail of something secret.

"Great. Let’s drink to scooping life and having a good time." We clinked wine glasses. Again. I was feeling light headed and giddy. "Any last confessions you want to make to me?" I knew he wanted me to open up but I wasn’t ready.

"Okay. When I first started at the paper, I have to tell you, I had a huge crush on you," I turned and smiled at his handsome face, leaning close.

"Wish you’d told me," his voice was tight.

"Oh, you know, professionalism and all that. Never sleep with your fellow employee. I learned that the hard way. I’ve liked you as my best male friend instead. And it was interesting to watch you date. Painful when you went for Sue Ellen."

"Sassy," his voice was deep, low, hurt. "I’ve had a crush on you since the day you walked your sweet little self in the newsroom and Johnni assigned the mentoring task to me. Oh, my God." Our eyes locked in astonishment, disbelief and finally lust. I slid my leg between his as our lips met in five years of suppressed desire and alcohol induced abandon.

Entry 12

2004-11-09T20:43:00.000-08:00

My cell phone warbled out a sound like birds singing the blues.

"Hello?" I managed as I unsnapped my seat belt. I’d just parked in front of the Fondis Public Library and was going to pop in to do some research on the first yurts in the early days of Fondis, something I didn’t think I could find on the net.

"Sass, what’d you do to piss off Johnni?"

"Hi, Tom. Nice greeting. Why? Is she on the rampage? I’ve never known anyone to be menopausal for this long."

"You’re too nice. She was born this way. Something about your obit on old man Casey."

"Look, I just wrote it like a feature story. He had no dying words. It wasn’t an interview for God’s sake. He was dying." I was pissed.

"Wait a minute, Sassy. Don’t take it out on me. I just called to give you a heads up. You coming in today?"

"Not from what you just said." I took a deep breath. "Yeah. I’ll be there. My weekly house story is on Deirdre’s yurt. I’m doing some background at the library. See ya later."

"I’m on my way downtown. Why don’t I buy lunch at Coal Mine Café."

"What? You’re buying? Did your rich uncle just die or what?" I laughed. Reporters didn’t buy each other lunch. Even a good friend like Tom didn’t usually spring for a meal. We munched on what was handy in the news room and occasionally hit Taco Bell.

"Yes, as a matter of fact. My uncle did die. It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later. And keep this one to yourself, okay?"

"A free lunch? I’m mute. I know nothing."

***
I ran my fingers over the fine linen table cloth and smiled at Tom. "This is a real treat. So, what’s the story? You really had a rich uncle?"

"I really did." Tom chuckled. He’d been my mentor when I started at the paper and helped me over the rough spots with witchy Johnni. We’d become good friends and I hung with him when I wasn’t with Victoria and Maggie. After he popped the question to girl friend Sue Ellen, now there was a born bitch, I didn’t see much of him. That was also why I was surprised by today’s offer.

"I’ve never been here. Very classy." I looked around at the elegant décor and glanced at the priceless menu. I mean, price-less. Nothing listed. I’d never eaten in a place like this.

"Order whatever you want, Sass, this is a big day for me and I want us both to remember it."

I turned to take a closer look. He seemed tired under the surface enthusiasm. And he hadn’t taken a shower, very unusual for the fastidious Mr. Grooming Aid King.

"What’s up, Tom?"

"Let’s order first. I have a lot to tell you," he lifted his eyes from the menu and studied my face. "And you have a lot to tell me."

"Who do you think you are? Deirdre?" Jeez, I wanted to tell him about the underground lab and about watching Foster Casey die and about Maggie. If I started, I’d probably never stop crying. "I want to hear your story."

Tom turned to the prim waiter who’d offered a wine list. He pointed and the waiter left, walking stiffly across the deep burgundy carpet.

"Let’s start with appetizers. No stories for a while. Shall we start with escargot?" He smiled sweetly at me. I stuck out my tongue. "Really."

"Okay, since this is on you, why don’t you order." He knew my preferences in food better than I did. He nodded agreement. The waiter set champagne glasses on the table and filled them. Whatever Tom was about to reveal was going to be a good one. We never did alcohol in early afternoon. Except maybe that one time. Oh, well, never mind, Sassy. So, sometimes we did. But never champagne.

"A toast," Tom said.

"To better days," I responded.

"To changes." Clink. Clink. It was delicious. Perfectly bubbly. I let out a deep breath I didn’t know I was holding.

"Want to tell me what’s bothering you now?" he asked.

"Nope. Don’t want to go there. Just tell me stories and keep me distracted with food and wine." I laughed.

"This is a good part, bad part story." He sighed.

"They all are. Get the bad part over. I’m not taking notes so I won’t lead with it."

Tom chuckled. "Right. You know Sue Ellen and I have been having problems?"
I knew. The less he’d talked about it, the more stressed he’d become. A few weeks ago we’d had a few drinks together and he’d given me the basics. She wouldn’t marry him if he didn’t go to work for her daddy. But daddy is the biggest banker in town and Tom is a reporter through and through. I figured I knew what was coming.

"She’s been nagging me for months about working for her old man. You have to admit she’s a beautiful woman and I’ve been pretty hooked." He shook his head and sipped champagne.
She was beautiful alright. Totally artificially beautiful. I’d wanted to do an in-depth report on plastic surgery and extreme make overs and use her as my interview. Tom begged me not to do it. Sometimes you just give up a good story for a good friend.

"You didn’t take the job, did you?" I couldn’t believe it.

"You didn’t catch the past tense, did you? I thought I was in love, but God, Sassy, she’s a total control freak. She not only wanted me to work for her father, she wanted me to do a make over, nip and tuck and dye and tweak and shave. Jeez, she didn’t want me, she wanted to make me into some ideal puppet she could manipulate." He drained his glass and refilled it.

"I know."

"I know you know. That’s why we’re here now. She gave me back her ring last night. I was just getting ready to tell her the rest of the news but I wasn’t cooperating and she flounced out making a big scene in the bank lobby. You would have loved it," he smirked.

"I’m sorry. I probably would have. Deirdre would probably tell us it was some planetary alignment. Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I am. See, two other things happened at the same time. First, I heard from the New York Times."

"What?" We’d always joked about applying for a job there. From Fondis to the Big Apple. The ultimate job jump.

"Things kept getting worse with Sue Ellen and I finally put out some feelers to the New York Times, the L.A. Times, the Chicago Tribune."

"You didn’t."

"I knew I couldn’t stay here if we broke up."

"And…" I prompted.

"And I start next week. I gave my notice to the bitch today." He was beaming, the sparkle in his eyes the way it used to be.

"Shit."

"Thanks for the congratulations."

"I’m sorry, Tommy. Jeez, I’m going to miss you. The New York Times? Really? Fabulous." I leaned toward him and kissed him on the lips. "I really am happy for you. It just sucks for me."

"And I did inherit money from my rich uncle so I’ll be able to rent an apartment there."

"I’m coming to see you the first vacation I get. Fat chance. She’ll have me taking your beat plus I’m still covering for Alice while she’s on maternity leave." I downed my second glass. "Hey, she’s not pissed at me over the Casey story."

"Yes, she is. And she’s pissed at me. We’ve always been in good company."

The waiter served escargot and I began to relax. The afternoon was shot. I was glad I had a head start on the yurt as living space story because I’d have to crank it out that night and email it in. I forgot about everything but good food and drink and my good friend.

Entry 11

2004-11-08T16:48:00.000-08:00

I tucked an apple and a Clif Bar into my camera bag, planning to drive on up to Deirdre’s, see what all the lala-land messages were about plus get a head start on my house story for next week. Then I’d stop by and see Maggie. I hadn’t handled things very well yesterday. The phone rang as I headed for the door.

I was feeling rather anti-social and out of sorts about the last few days—I’d just let it go on voice mail but I couldn’t resist checking the caller ID. Then I picked up.

"Hi, Victoria."

"I’m so glad you answered, Sassy. Have you seen Maggie?"

"Yeah. Yesterday. Why?"

"I think we both should go over there together, don’t you?" Victoria’s usually perky voice sounded tired.

"Yeah. I was going up to Deirdre’s and then going to the hospital later. Shall I pick you up?"

"I’m ready. Thanks." That was the way it was with us. Victoria and I were best friends, long time best friends. We finished each other’s thoughts. When Maggie moved out here from New York City, she clicked with us and we became a threesome. Victoria was tall and I was short. People called us Mutt and Jeff. Maggie, a former model for Vogue and other high end magazines, "retired" to Fondis and opened an interior design business. We’d met at a women’s group, went to lunch that first day and have been a trio every since. Where there’s one, there’s three. I put two more apples and Clif Bars in my bag, just in case Maggie would want to eat with us.

Deirdre was hanging by her knees from a pine bough as we drove in the narrow, rutted driveway. Her long red hair hung toward the ground in waves. Victoria and I glanced at each other and back at Deirdre. I didn’t know if I should call out or not. What if we startled her and she fell?

"Namaste, Sweet Sisters." Deirdre’s voice interrupted my thoughts. She brought her palms together over her heart as she spoke. "I’m going into my Hanged Woman year, you know, so I was trying to get a new perspective on life. It really is beneficial. I’ll have to figure out what year you’re each in." With the ease of a monkey, she pulled herself up, and sat on the limb, surveying us before she dropped gracefully to the ground.

"I’m so glad you came, Victoria. I sent you the vibration of welcome here at the yurt. I knew you’d get it." She embraced us both.

The blast of a donkey bray shattered the calm setting. Victoria and I swung in the direction of the small shed against the side of the hill.

"That’s Edgar Rice Burro." We joined Deirdre in laughter. I pulled out my tape recorder, turned it on and dropped it in my shirt pocket as he let out another long wheezing bray.

"I love donkeys," Victoria said.

"He wants you to come visit," Deirdre interrupted his continued snorts and snuffles and brays. I had my camera out as she walked up to rub between his long ears. She kissed him on the nose as I clicked a tight shot. Perfect. "He misses his companion Burrito, so I try to give him more attention. Burrito is a jack and he’s off servicing a few jennet’s across the valley. Edgar is gelded so he misses all the fun." Deirdre pulled gently on his long ears and the donkey stretched out his neck.

"He looks like he wants to purr," Victoria said and laughed, reaching a hand hesitantly toward Edgar.

"It’s okay. He won’t hurt you. Donkeys are very sensitive. They understand on a deep level what is going on. A donkey will never harm a child and they are wonderful guard animals. Here, Victoria, scratch right here between his ears," Deirdre instructed.

"But he’s putting his ears back. Doesn’t that mean he’s mad or something." She pulled back.

"No, silly. It means he’s blissed. Aren’t you, Edgar?" Again she kissed his nose.

"Would he like an apple?" I asked as I pulled out my lunch, figuring he’d like it even more than I did. I ate my apple a day out of a casual routine of good health, not passionate desire.

"I’m sure he would." Deirdre smiled and pulled a pocket knife out of her jeans. Quickly she cut it in eighths and gave Victoria and me slices. "Put it in the palm of your hand like this," she instructed. "No fingers or thumbs up. We don’t want him to get confused and bite the wrong thing." She offered Edgar a slice of apple. He sniffed and then the apple was gone. I shot many photos as Victoria followed suit. My turn. I stretched my palm out. His big soft lips nibbled my palm, tickling. I giggled. He loved the apple.

"Come in for tea," Deirdre invited. "Edgar would love your attention for the rest of the day but let’s go into the yurt and I’ll figure out what year you’re each in."

Dying embers still glowed from the wood burning stove. I settled on the oriental carpet with my tea cup. Victoria sank next to me, sitting with her legs crossed. Deirdre swirled into the room, having changed into a lavender and purple silk kimono. A black cat rubbed against my back and circled me.

"He must be smelling Spook." I let him. He nuzzled my hand and pushed into my lap.

"He likes you. A good sign. And you need all the help you can get this year, Sassy." She was scribbling on a pad of paper.

"Thanks a lot. What’s his name?" I’d rather play with the cat than hear doom and gloom.
"Midnight. Not very creative but that’s the time he arrived here." She smiled as the cat settled. I scratched behind his ears and his purr increased a decibel or two.

"You seem to be evading the subject. So, Victoria, we’ll start with you. The two of you will have to help each other a lot this year." I felt Victoria glance my way.

"Victoria, you are going into Death and Rebirth." Shit. And mine was going to be worse. I frowned and studied the yurt design, figuring out what camera angles I’d need. Victoria’s voice droned on.

"Really, you mustn’t be upset by this card. It is about letting go of something and then being open for new experiences, a new perception. You see, I follow you. You were in Hanged Woman last year. You had a lot of changes, yes? Let go of things." Deirdre studied Victoria’s face.

She must have known about Victoria’s divorce. Everybody had heard the nasty details on the grapevine I was sure. I needed to interrupt here and get my interview started. Victoria looked shaken.

"Anyway, this will be a year of loss but also of gain. It is a purifying year." Bull shit.

"Deirdre, can we talk about the yurt and how you got the idea to settle up here?" I asked.

"Yes, of course, Sassy. I feel resistance on your part. Just let me pull a card for you then and we’ll get on with my lovely abode." She shuffled the tarot deck, blew through the cards and cut.

"Well, Sassy, you too will be letting go but in a big way. It will feel like all the structures surrounding your will topple but it is very freeing. Are you thinking about moving or getting a new job?"

"No."

"I do wonder why you keep working for that witch at the paper," Victoria said. I glared at her.

"You give witches a bad name," I quipped, hoping to change the subject.

"There is a coven that meets over to the south side of Fondis, did you know that?" Deirdre asked. I did not. I’d remember. It would make a great Halloween story.

"Now, tell me about the yurt," I pulled the focus back to where I wanted it.

Two hours later I pulled up in front of Fondis General Hospital. "Are you ready for this?" I asked Victoria.

"As ready as I ever am. What do you think about all that stuff Deirdre said?"

"Bologna. I’d just forget it. Hey, why’d you pick on me about my job? You know I need the money." I pursed my lips.

"Johnni Johnson is a mean ol’ bitch and she runs you around like her slave."

"Does not. It’s journalism. You can’t expect a story to happen exclusively between nine and five. I don’t mind the unusual calls." Well, I did but I wasn’t going to admit it now.

"How many times have we been out doing something fun and you have to leave on a sudden scoop? Huh?" She was angry.

"Well, I know it happens."

"And she’s mean to you."

"I’m used to it. It’s a job. I like writing about people." I hedged.

"Sassy, look what we’re doing." She grabbed my hand. "We’re arguing about something that doesn’t matter, avoiding what does matter." She squeezed my hand ‘til it hurt. A tear leaked out of the corner of her eye.

"C’mon. Let’s go see Maggie," I tried to sound upbeat.

Maggie was sleeping when we walked into the hospital room. We stood together at the end of the bed watching her for a while. Quietly Victoria began to hum and then to sing "We shall overcome." I joined her. Maggie opened her eyes slowly and her lips lifted slightly. She didn’t sit up. Her lids drooped but I could hear her voice soft as she joined us.

Entry 10

2004-11-08T15:15:00.000-08:00

I reached for the ringing cell phone and didn’t notice that Danny handed it to me—or that I was sitting in his lap.

"Hello?" I mumbled, my throat dry.

"Sassy Cambridge, I’m expecting that article on Foster Casey for tomorrow’s paper. You’re past deadline." Johnni Johnson’s voice barked out a classic command.

"I am? I’ll get right on it." I hung up. Danny took the phone and I snuggled back against his massive shoulder, closing my eyes. "Danny? Danny Boy? Where am I?" Spook jumped into my lap which was in his lap—that is Danny Boy’s. I glanced around. Home.

"It’s okay, Sassafrass." His deep voice rumbled through my body. Nobody knew my full name.

I straightened and looked him in the blue and green eye or was it brown? The wood burning stove crackled. I was wearing a robe. What was going on here?

"Daniel?" I squeaked.

"Sassy, you were nearly frozen standing out there by the lake. I brought you home, warmed you up, gave you a bath and now I’m just holding you. Remember? You told me all about what had happened."

Oh, God, yes, I remembered. I remembered sobbing hysterically also and Danny Boy holding me, handing me tissues, holding me, rocking me like I was a baby. I hiccuped.

"I have to write up the story about Foster Casey," I snuffled, struggling from his lap.

"Are you sure you’re okay?"

"Yes." I turned on the laptop. "Daniel, Danny, Danny Boy, whoever you are, thank you. I’m sorry. I don’t usually fall apart like that." He stroked my hair.

"Take care of yourself. And call me if you need anything. Anything. Anytime." He handed me a card with a number written on it and let himself out.

I clicked into my files on Foster Casey and made notes on his contributions to the community, wrote his obituary and emailed it to the paper and a separate copy to Johnni’s home email, attaching a photo of Foster from 10 years ago when he donated money to the Girl Scout camp.

The roar of a big engine stopped out front. It sounded like that massive truck the twins drove. Of course they weren’t twins. A knock on the door brought me to my feet. I was right. It was the twins, the Lost Navigator and Reverend TeaTeam with his ever faithful parrot Velvet on his shoulder. The Lost Navigator, pierced at the eyebrow, several ear locations and a new ball on his lower lip. He was serious and baby faced and compensated with an occasional scowl. The Reverend was pierced in less obvious places I’d heard.

"The Wolf asked us to bring this to you," the Lost Navigator said, indicated a brown bag obviously containing food as the delicious aromas wafted around me.

"The Wolf?" I think they liked to talk in code to confuse me. I didn’t even know their real names, only that they weren’t really twins but everyone said they were anyway. The Lost Navigator was a philosopher and probably an atheist and the Reverend was a born again youth counselor. He didn’t like to speak in public and I thought the red and purple parrot must gave his sermons.

"You know that big guy?" the Nav asked.

"Big guy?" I shook my head. "When did you get back in town? Are you finished with grad school?"

"I finished the semester early. I’ll be working on my dissertation and then will go back in January." The Lost Navigator would get his Ph.D. in astrophysics or some such and was already hired to work at the Fondis Aerospace Headquarters when he finished college.

"Sorry, we can’t stay. We’re going up to Deirdre’s yurt," the Reverend said. I nodded, still not myself, and took the bag of food.

"Thanks." They headed off to the still rumbling truck.

Sitting at my one person kitchen table, I opened a styrofoam cup and let out the steam of spicy hot and sour soup. The Big Guy, huh? Must be Danny Boy thinking that I hadn’t eaten. It tasted fabulous.

Entry 9

2004-11-07T14:52:00.000-08:00

I was ready to pay my tab and slip out the back door when Rex and Bernie appeared suddenly on each side of me, smacking my cheeks. "Sassy Darling" they said in unison, laughed and leaned forward, giving each other a deep kiss.

"Rex, Bernie. I’ve missed you." And I had. I hugged them both.

"Let us buy you a drink, Sass," Rex said. I sighed and nodded. I’d probably be sorry in the morning but shit. Why not? Two was my limit and I knew I was stepping over the line. Maggie and Casey. Damn. Why not indeed.

"Come. Sit with us in the back booth, Darling." Bernie’s soft voice whispered in my ear. I stood and pulled a few bills from my pocket.

"We’ve got it, Sweetheart. Just follow Bernie," Rex instructed.

"No, Rex. I ate dinner and…"

"We’ve got it." He smiled the way he does when he will brook no argument. I kissed him on the cheek and Bernie grabbed my hand.

I studied their relaxed, tanned faces as we settled into the booth. It was quieter back here and it was so good to see them. "When’d you get back?"

"Italy was so fabulous. Wait ‘til you see what we bought this trip," Rex enthused.

"We got back Wednesday," Bernie smiled indulgently at Rex.

"The antique shop will never be the same. Will you come over tomorrow? We’ll be re-arranging everything," Rex continued.

"Probably not tomorrow. I’ll call when I get a free moment."

"Sassy, you’re working too hard, aren’t you?" Rex shook his head. "I say you go with us on our next trip. Wouldn’t that be a hoot." We all laughed in agreement. That’s what I needed. A vacation, and not a working one. I sipped the gimlet and listened to their various adventures until closing.

"We’ll take you home, Sassy," Rex said.

"No, I can walk."

"Did you notice you’re not walking as straight as you might?" I giggled.

"Well, neither are you, Rex," I added in mock defensiveness.

"You know Bernie is always the designated driver." Bernie nodded and I did remember.

I slid into the middle seat of the old, finely tuned Cadillac. "This is like riding in a boat." I laughed.

"Of course. Don’t you love it?" Rex asked.

***

I groaned as I rolled over. A queasy vertigo lapped in my ears. I dared to sit up and tried to focus on the clock. God, I had to pee. Slowly I walked to the bathroom, stumbling in those few steps. How much had I consumed last night? Obviously too much. Spook meowed like a lion.

Hot water-- I needed a long hot shower. Shit. I had to go over to Fondis General today. See Maggie. Interview Foster Casey. What had I been thinking last night?

Two hours later I walked resolutely down the sterile hall of the hospital trying not to gag on the medicinal odor. I’d go see Foster Casey first, then go by to see Maggie. Go home and write up the piece on Casey and sleep. Jeez, I was wiped.

"Foster Casey? Yes, he’s in Room 1212. Family only," the potato faced nurse pursed her lips.

"You family?"

"Yes," I lied.

"Relationship," she began scribbling.

"He’s my great uncle." I figured that was remote enough not to trace. Who cared? I wanted to see him. "Is anyone else with him?" That could be a problem.

"Nope." She drummed her doughy fingers on the counter. "Five minutes. You know he’s in hospice?" I shook my head. Damn.

I followed the numbers to Room 1212 and entered quietly. Foster Casey lay rigidly under the covers, his breath labored and uneven. I walked to the side of the bed and stood for a long time looking at him, the weary wrinkles draining down to his chin, now whiskered from not shaving. His gaunt neck and bony clavicles poked above the hospital gown. His flesh was bruised, arms bandaged. He must have taken another fall. Last time he broke some ribs. Every time I’d go to see him, I’d tell him to get a cordless phone so he could keep it with him. He never listened. He liked the old one hanging on the wall.

"Foster. It’s Sassy Cambridge," I tried to speak as if I didn’t know he was dying. He didn’t respond. "You know, Sassy from the paper. We talked about fiscal errors in the county government last month, remember?" I’d raised my voice. His breathing pattern changed. I think he heard me.

"He ain’t said a word for two days, Miss," a nurse’s aide said as she bustled around the room. "You family?" I nodded as she left.

"Foster Casey, you’ve lived a fine life," I told him. "You have been the voice of Fondis, the historian when no one else remembered. You grew up here, knew this place when it was just a dusty crossroads along the Bijou Creek. You delivered the mail for years, and then became mayor."

Somehow I felt it was important to tell him the highlights of his life. I wouldn’t mention his three wives, how he’d beaten his children, how he walked away from that murder trial because of a hung jury. But I’d tell him the positive stuff, the things that would make him proud of his life.

I pulled a chair closer to his bed. A nurse came in and slipped a syringe into his mouth. "Morphine," she said quietly.

I nodded and watched as she straightened the covers and wrote on his chart. I knew there would be no last statements.

"I used to love to come to your little house for an interview. You’d fix me a cup of tea and give me cookies that some little old lady had baked for you that day, and we’d talk about the past, the things that made the present make sense. I thank you for that, Foster." A slight movement between his eyebrows. I studied his profile, the bushy white eyebrows bursting above the cavernous eye-socks, the hawk beak of a nose, his mouth open, sucking air. I would offer him the dignity of not taking his photograph. Johnni would be furious, wanting to capture the last breath of the old man. I’d tell her I’d forgotten my digital and my Nikon was in the shop.
I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes. I hated writing obituaries.

A hollow rattling cough brought me out of a nap. His face had quieted and his breathing was more erratic. I eased out of the chair and walked quietly out of the room, then briskly to the nurse’s station.

"I think Mr. Casey might need some help. He made a very strange coughing sound," I said to the new nurse on duty.

"Thank you. I’ll send someone down," she replied and turned back to her paperwork. I headed for the unisex bathroom.

Back in his room, another nurse busied herself at Foster’s side.

"How is he?" I asked quietly.

She looked up and shook her head. "I’m sorry," she said. "He’s gone."

I stood at the foot and held his feet, cold through the layers of blankets. Gone. Dead. I closed my eyes. No tears. Not now. I filled my lungs, deeply breathing and then sang "Amazing Grace."

I stayed there a long time and then walked out. I walked along the hallways blindly, just walking, just numb, knowing somewhere in the back of my brain that I needed to see Maggie, to be with the living while it was still possible.

Finally I shook my head and started talking out loud. "Get yourself together, Sassy. Maggie needs you. Where are you? Go find out where you are? Get back to the oncology section and go see Maggie." I did.

Snow was falling outside Maggie’s hospital window. She sat up in bed looking like a beautiful, fragile doll. "Maggie." I forced a smile. She beamed when she looked up from her knitting.

"Sassy. I’m so glad you’re here. I was watching this show about cats and thinking about Spook. And now here you are." She reached out her tiny hand and I squeezed it, then kissed her cheek. "You must be on assignment because you have your camera bag. You’re always working, Sassy. You need to take it easy." She patted a place on the side of the bed. "Sit here. I want to touch you."

I dropped the bag in the chair and sat on the bed.

"Don’t be mad at me when I don’t want to see you anymore," Maggie said.

"What?" I pulled my focus from the drifting snowflakes and stared into her blue green eyes.

"You’re mad at me?"

"No. I don’t want you to be mad. You know as I get closer to the end and…"

"Don’t say that Maggie. You’re going to be fine and you and Victoria and I will be singing as a trio again in no time. They’ve asked us for the Solstice Fest, you know?"

"Sassy, don’t change the subject. I think when it’s my time, I’ll want to be alone, to be with the angels who talk to me, to not be thinking about things like singing, things that I do here on earth."

I didn’t know if I could handle the conversation. "Maggie, whatever you want is okay with me. I can’t stay. It’s starting to snow and I walked over here."

"You walked? Silly girl. It’s a long walk and you’ll get cold. Yes, you better go. Call me. I love you." She smiled sweetly as I hoisted the bag on my shoulder, kissed the top of her head and left.

Again I walked, now outside, the wind biting my cheeks, the air chilling my lungs, my fingers digging into my pockets as I’d forgotten my gloves. Snow flurried about and I lost all sense of direction, walking, just walking, not thinking, trying not to think, walking ‘til I was numb.
I was in a park standing at the edge of the frozen lake, shivering when he found me.

"Come, Sassy." Danny Boy picked me up and carried to his vehicle.

Entry 8

2004-11-07T13:36:00.000-08:00

After much fretting, I realized I was hungry and I wasn’t getting anything done around the house. I glared into the remarkably barren refrigerator and decided I needed to be around some regular people and let my monkey mind quiet and fill my stomach. Spook was curled up on my pillow.

I jammed a beret on my head fluff, pulled on an old down jacket and slipped out into the night, locking the door behind me. The air was brisk as I headed down toward Main Street passing several bistros that were too pricey and high falutin, the new Fondis some called it. Nouveau Fondis I thought. It felt good to fill my lungs, to stretch my stride and be at ease on a Friday night. I hung a right at 98 and walked down to the refurbished Cheese Factory Bar & Grill, an historical building now serving a new purpose.

I paused inside the door, perusing the crowd and recognizing many faces, even if I didn’t recall names.

"Sassy, over here" Twilight yelled. I waved and indicated I’d check with her later. In high flirt mode, she was surrounded by men, not all of them eligible I noted.

"Sass, join us," Peter Simpson leered. I nodded and elbowed my way toward the bar.

"Sassy, glad to see you tonight. What can I get ya, Sassy lassie?" Gabriel’s face glowed with a sheen as he polished glasses, pulled drafts and took orders.

"Oh, make the usual," I said, sliding unto the last barstool available. I nodded at a couple of folks at the bar and turned to watch the crowd.

"There ya go. Want anything to eat?" Gabriel placed the gin gimlet on a bar napkin and waited.

"Hamburger with bacon." I smiled. It was good to be out in the midst of a Friday night crowd rather than walking around a sci fi set with odd people. I tried to be a vegetarian once. That was in my Buddhist phase. Then I read that book about blood types and appropriate foods. I’m an O blood type. I need meat. I transitioned easily back into the hamburger lifestyle. The Cheese Factory had the best burgers on this end of Fondis. Does that make me a fallen Buddhist? I talked to a young monk once at one of those sand painting prayer gatherings for peace. He told me if someone offered you meat, it was gracious to take it. So I figured it was gracious to order it if that’s what was best for my body.

"Sassy, glad to see you," Victoria grabbed my hand, kissed my cheek.

"You too." I kissed back. "Any word about Maggie?"

"She’s back in the hospital." Somber,we looked away from each other, not wanting to say the obvious. A double mastectomy hadn’t helped in the long run and the cancer matasticized. It was touch and go for Maggie. Victoria leaned her forehead to mine. I ran my hand over the fuzz left on her head. We’d shaved our heads together, laughing and crying with Maggie that day when she decided not to wear a wig.

"I’ll try to get over there tomorrow." I pulled away and bit my lip. She nodded and turned and went back to her table.

"Best burger in town, lassie," Gabriel said as he placed a large burger with real fries in front of me. Fried food wasn’t supposed to be good for you but sometimes it just didn’t matter. Look at Maggie. She was a total health food nut, eating all the right things, taking vitamins, and always looking perfect. And she got cancer. I took a big bite of the burger, licking ketchup from the corner of my mouth.

"Sassy Cambridge." My boss Johnni Johnson was the only one who ever used my full name. I really didn’t want to talk to her. I needed the weekend to grok the afternoon’s events and get back on track. I certainly didn’t want to talk about work.

"Was going to call you. Glad you showed up here tonight. Want you to go over to Fondis General Hospital tomorrow and interview old man Casey. Apparently on his death bed. Get a final statement, what it was like to be mayor for two decades, the changes in the town. His hopes for the future. You know, that kind of thing." She pulled long draw on a mug of dark beer.

"Did you get the old house story? I emailed it off earlier. I was hoping to take the weekend off, Johnni." I sighed and gulped at the gimlet like it was water.

"Got it. Forget it’s a weekend. I may have another story for you to follow up on too. I’ll call your cell if it flares up. Get me that story on Casey before noon. Later." She spun on a spiked heel and charged into the crowd. Shit. Gabriel pointed at my empty glass and lifted an eyebrow.

I nodded.

"And some water, please." Old man Casey. Mr. Foster Casey, Fondis’ oldest citizen, a venerable wealth of information about the past. I’d interviewed him countless times and we’d become good friends. Damn, I didn’t want to go to the hospital tomorrow. To see him or Maggie.

Entry 7

2004-11-05T17:45:00.000-08:00

I tucked the cordless phone between my ear and shoulder and walked to the bathroom, listening to my voice mail. Jeez. I had a full bladder.

Deirdre’s voice twinkled.
"Hi, Sassy. I just wanted to say, disregard my email message. I was worried about you and then I meditated and I your totem animal came to me and I knew you were okay. Another massive wolf joined her. Who is he? He is definitely your protector. Oh, and I have to tell you he has really different eyes, like two different colors. I wonder if you’ll meet someone like that in the physical? Well, anyway, give me a call so I can hear your voice. Thanks. Bye."

Deirdre was well meaning but she certainly lived in another world than I do. Maybe I’ll have to retract that statement after this afternoon. I don’t know what kind of a world I walked into. She’d probably be more comfortable with it all than I am. I flushed the toilet.

I switched on my computer, scrounged around for the tape recorder in my camera bag and flicked it on as I settled in to transcribing the tape. I was amazed to listen to the quality of Esther’s voice: always the weird little old lady hick voice, never the erudite professor with a lab of research going on beneath the city. It sounded fantastical even to me as I thought of it.
An hour later I wrote the story, not the real story, but the house story that my editor had assigned to me, the fifth in the series. Hey, maybe I should do a story on Deirdre and her yurt. That might be interesting and unusual.

I wondered where my cat Spook was. He had the run of the house and his own cat door so he came and went at will. I liked him to be inside at night and it was definitely dark now. The darkness coming earlier and earlier as we passed toward winter.

I downloaded the photos and picked a great shot of the outside of the house, a shot of her face in the mirror completing her make up and a shot of the back gardens. I’d be lucky if they found space for all three photos but they did support the story and I hoped they’d see print. I attached the jpegs and emailed it all to my editor. Done. Spook rubbed against my ankle.

"Hey, Sweet Kitty Spook. Ready for a treat?" I stretched as I got up from the computer. Time to see the chiropractor again. I scooped Spook up into my arms and he purred as he nestled under my chin. In the kitchen I put him down and opened a can of his favorite cat food Miss Kitty’s. He meowed until I served him.

Deirdre’s phone message kept creeping back into consciousness. Another wolf, one of my clan, a protector. I really did know that I had an animal totem and it was the wolf. I believed that. Could it be Danny Boy? Should I call him Daniel? He didn’t seem to mind, like it was a special nickname and I was in on it. Deirdre was out in left field most of the time hanging out with the wise woman Cerridwen. It was time to get some sleep but I was restless.

I needed to talk to someone about this. Somehow Esther knew I wouldn’t. I mean, who would even believe me? I always do my research, check the facts. Maybe I should go back on line and see what new listings there are for stem cell research. I started toward the computer and stopped. I didn’t want to sit there all night.

I should do some yoga, get back in that yoga class. I’ll call Robin tomorrow and see if she has an opening. If I have time. As long as I don’t have to write an obit, I’ll be fine.

Entry 7

2004-11-05T17:33:00.000-08:00

I tucked the cordless phone between my ear and shoulder and walked to the bathroom, listening to my voice mail. Jeez. I had a full bladder. Deirdre’s voice twinkled.

“Hi, Sassy. I just wanted to say, disregard my email message. I was worried about you and then I meditated and I your totem animal came to me and I knew you were okay. Another massive wolf joined her. Who is he? He is definitely your protector. Oh, and I have to tell you he has really different eyes, like two different colors. I wonder if you’ll meet someone like that in the physical? Well, anyway, give me a call so I can hear your voice. Thanks. Bye.”

Deirdre was well meaning but she certainly lived in another world than I do. Maybe I’ll have to retract that statement after this afternoon. I don’t know what kind of a world I walked into. She’d probably be more comfortable with it all than I am. I flushed the toilet.

I switched on my computer, scrounged around for the tape recorder in my camera bag and flicked it on as I settled in to transcribing the tape. I was amazed to listen to the quality of Esther’s voice: always the weird little old lady hick voice, never the erudite professor with a lab of research going on beneath the city. It sounded fantastical even to me as I thought of it.

An hour later I wrote the story, not the real story, but the house story that my editor had assigned to me, the fifth in the series. Hey, maybe I should do a story on Deirdre and her yurt. That might be interesting and unusual. I wondered where my cat Spook was. He had the run of the house and his own cat door so he came and went at will. I liked him to be inside at night and it was definitely dark now. The darkness coming earlier and earlier as we passed toward winter.

I downloaded the photos and picked a great shot of the outside of the house, a shot of her face in the mirror completing her make up and a shot of the back gardens. I’d be lucky if they found space for all three photos but they did support the story and I hoped they’d see print. I attached the jpegs and emailed it all to my editor. Done. Spook rubbed against my ankle.

“Hey, Sweet Kitty Spook. Ready for a treat?” I stretched as I got up from the computer. Time to see the chiropractor again. I scooped Spook up into my arms and he purred as he nestled under my chin. In the kitchen I put him down and opened a can of his favorite cat food Miss Kitty’s. He meowed until I served him.

Deirdre’s phone message kept creeping back into consciousness. Another wolf, one of my clan, a protector. I really did know that I had an animal totem and it was the wolf. I believed that. Could it be Danny Boy? Should I call him Daniel? He didn’t seem to mind, like it was a special nickname and I was in on it. Deirdre was out in left field most of the time hanging out with the wise woman Cerridwen. It was time to get some sleep but I was restless.

I needed to talk to someone about this. Somehow Esther knew I wouldn’t. I mean, who would even believe me? I always do my research, check the facts. Maybe I should go back on line and see what new listings there are for stem cell research. I started toward the computer and stopped. I didn’t want to sit there all night. I should do some yoga, get back in that yoga class. I’ll call Robin tomorrow and see if she has an opening. If I have time. As long as I don’t have to write an obit, I’ll be fine.

Entry 6

2004-11-05T15:32:00.000-08:00

The battered, old VW bug glided gracefully along the washboard roads on the outskirts of Fondis.

"You’ve really kept this old VW up, Esther," I remarked.

"Things are not always as they appear." She chuckled. "I’m sure you discovered that this afternoon. Anyway, this battered old beetle has a new Mercedes engine and suspension. Runs like a dream, eh? Even better now we’re back on pavement."

"Yup. A dream." That’s what the whole day felt like. "If things are not always as they appear, how will I know when you’re telling the truth?"

"Just listen, Sweetie. I will tell you the truth. What I think is the truth at that moment. That’s not to say I won’t omit things as I see fit. I’m sure you understand that."

"Um hmmm." And I did.

Esther hung a left off the main drag in Fondis and pulled into her alley.

"Tea time. Just what you need. What every one needs in late afternoon. A little pick me up."
The sun slanted low on the western horizon, my favorite time of day. I hopped out of the bug and followed Esther down the petunia lined path toward the house. A reporter is always following something: her nose, a lead, a hot tip, a rumor, a tidbit of gossip, the next great person, anything in search of the truth and a way to tell it. So, I followed Esther.

"Greetings, mum. Tea time," Cassandra quipped in a perfect English accent as she opened the front door.

"Thanks."

"This way," Cassandra said to me and I followed down a hallway I hadn’t seen before. She opened the door to a room bright with rays of sunshine glancing through lace curtains. Danny Boy rose from an oversized chair.

"My way was shorter," he said in response to my frown and grinned.

I was happy to see him. Cassandra sat in a miniature chair and began to pour tea as Esther and I took our seats around the tea table.

"I made scones," Cassandra handed me a bone china tea cup with roses weaving around and over the edge.

"Scones. My favorite." I was famished. It seemed like I’d been gone for days not hours.
"And clotted cream," Esther said.

I sank my teeth into the scone globbed with clotted cream and marmalade and closed my eyes, sighing.

"Danny Boy, you got her squared away with the basics?" My lids flew open. Esther beamed an eye on the giant.

"I think she understands the basics, yes." He turned to me and lifted an furry brow in inquiry.

"I’m a bit on overwhelm. But yes. Perhaps the basics."

"Then that’s enough for today, dear. Don’t you worry about a thing now," Esther bit into a scone and licked her lips.

"Cassandra, these are the best scones I’ve ever had." I helped myself to a second one and lowered a butter knife into the clotted cream. I was feeling a little like Alice in Wonderland and wondered where the Mad Hatter was. Or was she already here?

"Are you feeling okay, Sassy?" Danny Boy’s large hand touched my knee, the vibration bringing me instantly back to the moment, to his presence.

"Fine. Just fine. I…I’m fine." I always say that. I don’t want anyone to know if I’m not, to think they have to take care of me. I can take care of myself. A silly notion perhaps but one that I cling to and that serves me well.

He sat back but continued to watch me. I liked that and didn’t like it at the same time.

"I really need to be going. It’s been wonderful meeting you all." I swept a glance to each person. "But I do have story to write, a deadline to meet." I smiled and yawned.

"I’ll take you home, Sassy," Danny Boy said.

"No need. I’m fine, really. Just a little tired. I look forward to seeing you again." I meant it and didn’t know why.

"Your camera?" Cassandra reminded me. "I’ll fetch it for you if you give me the key."

"No, I can get it, really." I was digging around for the key in my pocket. Cassandra snatched it and whisked out of the room despite my protests.

Esther opened an ornate buffet and selected a small dark brown bottle labeled "Stamina."

"Here, Sassy, take this. One teaspoon before you start working and you’ll be right up to par." We walked to the front door and I slipped the bottle in the side pocket of my camera bag as Cassandra handed it to me.

"I look forward to seeing you again," I repeated.

"Soon," Danny Boy said.

"Very soon," Cassandra confirmed.

"I look forward to reading that article about that crazy old lady in Fondis." Esther chuckled.

Entry 5

2004-11-05T13:06:00.000-08:00

Esther no longer shuffled. Her steps were brisk as she bustled into a large, windowed office, pan-optic. I followed, staring down at a scientific laboratory filled with people in white uniforms.

"Esther, what is this place? Why so secret?"

"I figured you didn't hear a word I was saying while we were in the tunnel. Don't worry, I'll get back to it." She shuffled some papers, turned and looked in a filing cabinet, not answering my questions at all.

"Dr. O. So glad you're back."

I turned to see a giant of a man standing outside the door, stooping to look in. A dwarf, a giant. What was this, a retreat for those with unusual physical attributes? And why was I here?

"Danny Boy, come in," Esther said without turning toward him. "I want you to meet Sassy Cambridge. Sassy, Daniel." She swiveled in her chair and grinned at us.

"Hi, Daniel." I stretched out my hand as I rose. He was next to me in one stride, his head just clearing the ceiling.

"Ah, Sassy Cambridge, we've been waiting for you." His voice rumbled across the surface of my being. My hand felt tiny as he took it gently. He sank to the floor, crossed legged at my feet, and looked at Esther. "She's here."

"What do you mean, you've been expecting me?" Esther and now Daniel, or was I to call him Danny Boy also. Kinda cute, I had to admit. But there was something odd about him also. I couldn't place it until he turned his head and caught my eyes with his odd colored ones: one brown, one blue or was it green? A very unique person. Once again I longed for my camera. How to shoot him? I could do a book just on the angles and planes of his face, on showing his height, exaggerating it or diminishing it but accentuating it with a change of lens.

"Didn't Dr. O tell you?" I loved his voice.

"No. Or maybe," I fumbled.

"Of cource I did." Esther chuckled. "But do you think she heard a single word while we were speeding along in the tunnel? No. Not a word." She shook her head.
"Sassy, you go along with Daniel. He'll give you the overview. I don't want to exhaust you on your first visit. Danny Boy, was there something you needed to talk about?" She glanced his way, dismissing me.

"I'll explain it later. We've had some unusual results in Unit 501. It will be my pleasure to escort Ms. Cambridge about the premises."

"Sassy, please."

"Unusual results? Do I need to examine it immediately?" Esther frowned. I wondered if I should call her "Dr. O" while I was in her professional realm.

"I think it's alright, Dr. O. But very interesting." I felt he was hedging on any details on my account. I was more curious than ever. Maybe he'd let something slip. Something was going on here and I would find out. No more lallygagging, no more giving into physical sensations of deprivation. I had to pay attention, be on the ball, get rid of my cliches and draw some conclusions.

"Come, Sassy." He rose effortless from his position on the floor and grabbed my hand. I followed, feeling his vibration through our clasped hands. Deirdre would love to tell me what that was about. She's always urging me to pay attention to the subtle level of life, to interpret every nuance. I prefer to stay in the here and now, thank you very much.

I was almost running to keep up with Danny Boy. "Uh, what's the hurry?" I finally asked after we'd passed many doors and I was as curious as Alice in Wonderland.

He glanced back at me and stopped. "I forget sometimes. Forgive me. Just speak up, like you did, and remind me. I can be a thoughtless oaf at times."

"I don't think you're an oaf." He grinned at that.

"Thank you." Again the deep rumble of his voice touched me.

"We'll take this elevator and go down to the main lab. Let me explain briefly. Dr. O has studied many things. She's an MD and a homeopath. She's an herbalist and an aromatherapist. Plus she studied Auruvedic medicine in India. And she's a researcher."

I nodded, remembering some of her books.

"She's trying to meld eastern and western medicine and come up with a new paradym for healing. We still have to keep the stem cell research under wraps. She's taking the premise of homeopathy and applying to stem cell research. The potential for helping the world is beyond current perception."

"Interesting." I could think of nothing else to say. I was catching on. The stem cell issue had been up for years and blocked by government intervention based on some antiquated religious beliefs that seeped into legislation.

"Plus the vibrational attributes that can be added by intention. Are you following me. These concepts are not being addressed by mainstream medicine at the moment. The alternative healers go their way, thinking it is best. The docs do what they learned in school which doesn't leave much room for experimenting. And that's where Dr. O comes in." The elevator stopped but we just stood there talking as I looked out on the lab floor.

"How do you come into the picture, Danny Boy?" Oh. I let that one slip. "Daniel."

"I'd like you to call me Danny Boy." A sparkling grin told me he meant it. "I met Dr. O years ago on a research project in Guatemala. We stayed in touch on and off for a long time. When she wanted to set up this research facility she asked me to help. I've been here ever since."

"How can a place like this not be discovered. Where do the workers live? Doesn't anyone in Fondis suspect? Is it really top secret?"

"Whoa. One at at time. We have a cover. You'll see when you go above ground. We are on the outskirts of the industrial complex. The upper level is an internet warehouse. GetSirius. Rather like Amazon. Have you heard of GetSirius.com? We started out with books and branched out. Our motto is quality. All our workers wear the same uniforms as we do down here. No one knows the difference. We have over 500 employees up there. We're good for the town of Fondis."

I shook my head. I'd only done a few interviews with folks in the industrial complex. It seemed like a good scheme. And it must be working. I'd seen TV ads for GetSirius.com

"Come. I'll show you around. To the left we grow our herbs. To the right, they are made into herbal remedies or homeopathic remedies. In front of us, behind the steel doors, is our top security stem cell research." His long arm indicated each section that I'd seen from above in Esther's office.

"But how can things grow below ground?"

"Easy. See the lighting units? They are all full spectrum lighting, replicating the patterns of the sun and the seasons. You can actually see and feel the sun rise and set here. Our workdays are aligned to natural lighting. We work shorter hours in the winter. Our research shifts to a more inward pattern, just like nature."

"It's all rather hard to fathom," I said, following him down an aisle of cilantro and parsley.

"Enough for one day, I'm sure. How are you feeling?"

"Fine. On overload, though."

Danny Boy stepped to a digital panel on the wall, punched in a code and spoke. "Tea time?"

Dr. O's voice came back, crystal clear. "Take her topside. We'll drive back to my place."

Entry 4

2004-11-04T18:40:00.000-08:00

I dont' know whether to laugh or cry. I'm sitting in this cylindrical glass contraption next to Esther who is chatting along about various and sundry scientific advancements and I wish I had my tape recorder because I can't pay attention to anything she's saying. We are speeding, warp speed I'm sure, along some underground mass transit unit. I mean, what's happening? This is Fondis, not some Jetson cartoon or sci fi thriller. I can't wait to tell Isis about this. She'll probably write a novel about it.

Well, I'm not supposed to "tell." Esther trusts me. Do I trust Esther? At the moment I'm not at all sure. First of all, she's pretending to be a weird little old lady living in a falling down old house. She's old alright but sharper than a tack. I hate it when writers use cliches. You can tell I"m really out of it here.

Physically I don't know what's going on. I feel light headed and there is a strange, low level vibration rocking in my body. I can't tell how this unit is powered but there is a digital readout panel that Esther nudged with a gnarled finger.

Back to Esther. She's really Dr. Esther Buland Ortez with more acronyms after her name than the alphabet. I've read some of her books when doing scientific research for other articles. She used to live someplace in South America and of course did lots of studies in Europe and Greece. I don't have a perspective here on what's going on, what she's really up to and why I'm riding along here beneath Fondis.

I figured we went down about six stories in the elevator. It was so fast it was hard to estimate but I'm pretty good with physical reality and have a built in compass, which means I always know where north is. I think we're headed east. But all my sensory input is out of whack and I could be headed for the moon for all I know.

"Are you following this, Amy?" She turns her brightly made up face to me and frowns. "Oh, dear, you look a little peaked. Now just a minute." She rummages in a pocket of her flowing blouse and retrieves a small vial. "Here. Take one of these. It's hard to get used to subsurface travel. I do forget about these things. Sorry."

I'm somewhat reluctant to take the unknown tablet and pull back but she's already pushing it under my tongue. Oh, well. I'm already on this ride so I'll just see where it follows. As the pill dissolves, I actually do feel better.

"What did you give me, Esther?"

"I know you have a good background. Yes, yes. I've checked you out. You are familiar with homeopathy, yes?"

I nod. "I am. I wrote a story about that famous Fondis homeopath--"

"My friend. Yes. I read it. Very perceptive writing. That's what I've been trying to tell you about. We really mustn't throw the baby out with the bathwater. It is time to weave the old and the new together. Not carry disdain about western medicine or any allopathic methods. Not to think one is better than the other. There now, you're looking better."

"I'm healthy as a horse." Was I destined to speak in cliches for the rest of the afternoon? "So I am not personally biased in any direction. I don't go to the doctor but I've interviewed almost all of them in Fondis. And all the alternative healers that I can find."

"I've read all your articles for years." I can't seem to get that in my head. "That is why you were chosen. Your background. Your open mindedness. And my need for an outside observer." She leaned forward and fiddled with a dial.

"Esther, I feel like a fish out of water without my camera and tape recorder." Jeez.

"I know, Amy. Don't worry about it now. Just tune into the whole picture."

The subterrranian two person speed cylinder came gently to a stop. My whole body vibrated as I stood and followed her down a brightly lit passage. I was certain we were well beyond the Fondis city limits.

Esther palmed a digital pad and pressed her chin onto a cupped shelf, adjusting an iris reader.
"Just do what I did," she instructed.

"I don't understand." The understatement of the day. "I believe this is security that identified you by your palm print and your iris. It can't identify me."

"We want you to have future access. I've programmed it to scan you know and record. Now step up here." She adjusted the chin pad to my height.

Reluctantly I stepped forward. The more I know the more I know others know. I still have a little "1984" paranoia going on. Especially since the Patriot Act went into effect. The big "they" know more and more and we know les and less. Now some big gopher hole in the ground will know some of my deepest secrets. My eye and only my eye, a unique pattern, like a snowflake. In the long run, it doesn't matter. As Aunt Ruby used to say, "What will it mean in one hundred years?" Not much.

Entry 3

2004-11-04T18:33:00.000-08:00

email from deirdrehmoon@yahoo.com

Sassy--are you okay? I'm sitting here in the yurt in front of the fire, gazing into my crystal ball. The faeries were dancing all around and then they split and I saw your face and you were so out of focus like something weird was going on. I just know something is wrong or the faeries would still be here.

I'll send this to your work and home email. Let me know if you need anything.

Blessings in all ways,
Love
Deirdre

Entry 2

2004-11-02T11:00:00.000-08:00

I was still stunned as we stood in the small garden behind the house. Esther deadheaded some geraniums and I just watched, my mouth still open. I'd been working on a series about one hundred years old houses in the Fondis area. The crazy wild woman was only going to be a bonus to highlight the story. I'd told her all that on the phone. No not that everyone thought she was crazy. Just about the series. She'd been reading it, said it was okay. What did I do now that I recognised her as a very famous person, obviously in cognito.

She'd been giving dates and facts about the house, now pointing to an addition her grandfather had made. I was glad the tape recorder was voice activated. I'd catch the details when I transcribed the tape. Most reporters scribble on a narrow pad. I pride myself on accurate quotes and it's proved beneficial many times. Especially when I'm quoting a local cop who trying to hide something illicit.

"Come on, girl. Oh, excuse me. Sassy. Keep up." She shuffled along a path lined with blooming lavender, an alyssum border. "Here, I want you to meet Cassandra." A beautiful head popped up from behind a rose bush. A child. But not. When she stood I saw that she was a miniature woman.

"Glad to meet you," I said, extending my hand and smiling while trying not to stare. "My name's Sassy."

"Yes. I know," her voice was golden. "I read your articles. I'm so happy to meet you." Her smile glowed like the yellow hybrid tea rose that she handed me.

"Knew you two would hit it off," Esther chuckled. "Now come along and look at this rose bush over here. It's over two hundred years old. Should fit right in with your story. I took a shot of the two of them fusing over a dead bloom--or that's what I thought.

"Cassandra's worried about you. Thinks you'll know too much."

I frowned. It was my job to know too much. People always told me too much. I was very discreet about what I chose to write. I had a good reputation--as long as I stayed away from investigative reporting. I'd hardly asked any questions and already had enough to write what I needed for the old house series.

Cassandra moved out of view, tending another plant.

"I want to know everything," I said bluntly.

"Of cource you do. And you will be select in what you write. Because you will know everything by day's end. It is time for someone to know. You were specially selected." What? I'd called her. Now, wait a minute. Who suggested that her house would be interesting? I couldn't remember. I'd have to check the notes on my cluttered desk.

"Day's end?" I was befuddled.

"Of cource. You'll stay for tea and I'll show you everything. You have enough for your story, yes?" I was more unnerved by her awareness of my thoughts.

"Yes."

"Now it's time to put the camera away and turn off the tape recorder."

"No," I responded at once. I was very possessive about the tools of my trade.

"Don't worry. Cassandra?" The tiny woman was instantly at her side. "Please make sure Sassy's camera bag is secured safely." She smiled. Cassandra reached for my bag and took it against my objection, carrying the weight easily. I followed.

Next to a tool shed, she opened a cupboard hidden beneath honeysuckle. Deftly she twirled the combination to open a large safe. Cassandra turned and smiled at me. "It will be safe here. Your camera, please." She tucked it into the bag. "And your tape recorder." Reluctantly I slipped it out of my pocket and handed it to her. She zipped the side pocket closed and placed the camera bag into the safe, and closed it.

"But how will I get it back?"

"Don't worry, Sassy." She closed the wooden door that hid the safe and padlocked it. "Here is the key. The combination to the safe is the last four numbers of your phone number."

What was I getting myself into? I slipped the key into my jean pocket.

"Over here," Esther yelled. Cassandra's tiny hand grabbed mine.

"C'mon. This will be fun." She giggled and I followed, deciding that curiosity was my bane and blessing as usual.

Esther was sitting on a garden bench petting the calico cat. I sat down beside her, pulled my cap off and rubbed the stubble of hair. She glanced at me with alarm.

"I didn't know you were having chemo. Cassandra, why didn't we know this?" She glanced at the little woman squatting to arrange a misplaced stone on the path's edge.

"No. You misunderstand," I hurried to explain. "My friend Vinga had a double mastectomy and then chemo. To support her, I shaved my head. It's just starting to grow out."

Esther clucked and shot a glance to Cassandra. "Umm humm. Fine. You scared me. We try to be very selective. Not let something like that slip by. Yes, I think we know about your friend. I'm sorry for what she's been through. It is hard for friends to stand by and feel helpless. That's part of what my work is about."

I slid the cap back on my head to shade my eyes from the piercing sun that shone through billowing clouds. Esther took my hand and turned it palm up. Cassandra scurried forward to stare into it.

"What?" I asked. I was on the wrong assignment here. This part should have been Deirdre's. She was always doing airy fairy stories.

"A very long life," Esther said.

"A healer," Cassandra noted, running a finger across the "M" in my left palm.

"A star woman," Esther pointed to several places where I could see nothing. "Enough. We could spend the day looking into your past and future. Let us be with the present." She rose with the ease of a much younger woman and walked toward the tool shed.

Cassandra pulled a key from beneath her black tunic and unlocked the door. The entire shed concealed an elevator. I must be dreaming. I glanced back at the shabby old house and the well tended gardens and heard the elevator door slide open. I followed Esther in.

"Cassandra will stay here. We expect a guest for tea time." Cassandra smiled and waved as the door slid shut. My stomach lurched as we decsended with great speed.

"Where are we going?" I managed as I looked for floor numbers to be indicated.

"I told you I'd show you all. This is all off the record. I have done my research you see. You came to interview the crazy old lady in the ancient old house. You've done that. Now you will see one of the great secrets of Fondis. Everyone who works here has a Absolute Security Clearance. No. Not anything to do with the government. That's why it has to be so secure. We are doing research for the greatest good. But there are those who would malign our projects."

The elevator stopped suddenly. I couldn't tell how far beneath the surface we were but there was a strange feeling in my ears and I was trying to sort out what I was hearing.

"There was recently a threat. That is why I want you to know about this. You are my safety link. You do not need to know why I trust you. I do. I also know you recognise who I am. You will only write the article about the crazy old lady in the house. Listen to the tape and you will only hear my local yocal accent and language. It will be a fine story. I need your reporter's awareness for what you are about to see."

The doors slid open and I followed Esther into the stainless steel room with endless digital panels.

2004-11-01T14:52:00.000-08:00

I stepped cautiously up the uneven steps, hoping they'd hold. I'd noticed the battered old house for years and always wondered who lived here. Now I had an appointment with the wild woman every one claimed had never been out of the house. I didn't believe it after a pleasant phone conversation with a woman who sounded perfectly rational. She didnt' sound wild. She sounded like my grandmother. Rumor also had it that she was famous. Well, I would find out soon enough. The pros and cons of being a reporter.

No doorbell. Almost no door. It tilted at an angle, the bottom panes of glass missing. A calico cat hissed and flew out from the back porch past my ankles. Maybe the old lady was a witch and that was her familiar. But I must keep an open reporter's mind, non judgmental and looking always for the story behind the story.

The door creaked as I pushed on it and called out. "Anybody home?"

No reply. Easing my way into the small porch cluttered with ages of debris, I almost had second thoughts. I'd heard of old people dying when a stack of clutter fell, pinning them beneath a pile of some important stack of stuff.

Tripping over a collection of worn shoes and goloshes (who uses goloshes anymore?), I knocked at the door.

"Come in--you're late," she yelled as she pulled the door open and glared at me. The valleys of her face shadowed beneath a yellow towel turbined around her head. A bright red towel swathed her sagging naked body. I hesitated. If I was late, why wasn't she ready?

A massive white beast lumbered toward me. I backed up. A Great Pyrenees. I recognised the breed from a dog show I'd covered. Jeez.

"Oh, that's Jill. Don't worry about her." I did.

"Now follow me." She turned and headed toward the kitchen. " Get these dishes done first and then--oh, do hurry. That girl from the paper will be here in an hour."

"Uh, Excuse me, Mrs. Buland," I said.

"Forget that formal garbage. Call me Esther." She stopped and looked over her shoulder.

"Okay. Esther. I am the girl from the paper." I never call myself girl--but I wasn't going to quibble now. I wanted the interview. I already had plenty of good images for a feisty story. I doubted if she'd get the cultural/political implications of my preferring to be called a woman. Whatever.

She spun around, her pale blue eyes wide. "You're Sassy Cambridge?"

I nodded. She must read the Fondis Daily News and recognise my byline.

Esther Buland frowned, adding to the geography of her face. "I thought you was the cleaning girl. Now, I have to say you're early. Not late. Well, no matter. It can't be helped now. And it don't much matter if that girl comes now or not. Since you're already here and seen this mess. Follow me." She headed down the hall and I did as I was told. For once. The dog pushed past me, guarding her mistress.

"Sit here, girl," she said referring to me, not the dog, who settled like a massive white rug on the floor guarding the doorway and consequently the little old lady.

"You can call me Sassy," I said in the same tone she'd told me to call her Esther. She laughed. This was going to be okay. I sat on the edge of the bed indicated. She flipped lights on over the sink in the adjoining bathroom. The counter was cluttered with make up, perfume and jewelry.

"Okay, Sassy. I'm just goin' to get along with what I was about to do and you can ask me questions. When I've got my face on and get dressed, I'll take you out back. Esther flipped a switch on a small CD player and Bruce Springsteen roared to life. "Oh. Does this bother you?" she shouted. "I need a little energy to get goin' in the mornin'." We both laughed.

"Well, I was going to ask you some questions and the music will override my tape recorder," I said and pulled the mini tape recorder from the camera bag I'd plopped on the floor.

"What?" she yelled, shook her head, and turned off the CD. "Sorry. I just put that on out of habit. I do a lot of that these days. Habit, ya know." I nodded and pushed the button on my recorder as Esther rubbed cream unto her wrinkled face.

"How long have you lived in Fondis?"

"Born here." She brushed purple shadow across her eyelids.

"Have you lived here all your life?"

"Nope. Just long enough to get bad habits in how I talk. They weren't much for grammar when I was a kid. But no, I can do better. I'll try. Just a bad habit. Lived in India for a few years with an old aunt when my folks got killed in the famous Fondis Bank robbery. When Auntie Ruby died, I went to live in England. They set me straight in that very strict school about proper English. I think I rebelled." She chuckled. A lot of teeth were missing. "I use this hick talk as my Fondis facade and sure, out of habit now also." She applied eyeliner and then mascara.

I twisted the baseball cap around so the bill wouldn't block my view and pulled my camera out, changed to the long lens, lodged the tape recorder between my knees and began to shoot.

"I was living with Mr. Chaucer at the time. He'd been Auntie Ruby's lover before she went to India to help in a hospital for the poor. God knows, everybody in India seemed poor so she had her work cut out for her. Mr. Chaucer got all her possessions, including me. Think it probably rankled him a bit but after a while we settled down into a routine and got along fine. " She'd stopped applying a foundation while she talked and now dabbed her face with a sponge and applied rouge.

"I've heard the educational system is different in the UK. Did you learn anything special?" I focused a tight shot on her hand as she applied lipstick to her oh-pen mouth. I smiled to myself at my own pun.

"Everything's different. I was doing algebra and geometry in seventh grade. People are bright all over the world but it depends on what they're exposed to as to how intelligent they seem as adults. Piss poor education in this country. All snarled up with those stupid politicians. Nobody asking a poor teacher how the kids learn best. Stupid tests. That's all they do now is worry about testing and kids don't learn to think critically."

I glanced down at the red light to make sure I was recording. This was going to be good.

"Yup. Yes. I received an excellent education. But it was really Mr. Chaucer who would plant the seed that grew into my lifetime mission. We started out all formal like. Mr. Chaucer this and Mr. Chaucer that. By the time I sat in his lap reading at night, I was calling him uncle Chauc. Now don't get no funny ideas here. He didn't ever try anything. He was more like a father to me than my own dad who was always too busy with bank business to pay attention to me." She pulled her hunks of white hair and rolled them around a curling iron.

"What seed did he plant that influenced you most?" I asked.

"Uncle Chauc was an herbalist and his best friend Herbie was a homeopath. I'd sit evenings listening to them discuss theory and practice. How which approach helped people more. They were always arguing. There was no TV, you know. So the three of us would have a pot of tea and I'd sit there and listen and after a few years I'd learned enough to join in and offer my own opinions. Now talk about hanky panky. In retrospect, I'm certain they were gay. Don't look shocked."

I didn't. I surpressed a smile.

"They were very close. Next door neighbors, ya know. And having all that intellectual stimulation wasn't all they had. But they kept it from me. I didn't know anything about sex at that time. That was the only problem growing up the way I did. They were old foggies and never brought it up. But that's another story. Of cource I figured out the fundamentals from textbooks. But I digress. Where were we?"

"So you studied herbs with your uncle?" I prompted.

"Oh, yes. He had a massive greenhouse behind the coach house and I helped him plant and research and eventually make up remedies. By the time I was ready for college, I knew more than most American professors in the field. I wanted to go to study abroad but Uncle Chauc was bent on my coming back to America. He thought I'd have my best chances for success here. I wasn't sure then and I'm still not." She pursed her burgundy lips and shook her head.

Dropping the red towel to the floor, she opened the closet. I set the camera aside while she dressed. I know I missed some priceless shots but I did have a growing respect for her. She wore black woolen slacks on her slender frame, topped with a wild orange and red blouse that billowed when she moved.

I gasped when she turned the finished product to me. I recognised her. Where had I seen that face? On a book jacket. On TV. Egads, I hadn't done enough homework on this one. Everyone always referred to her as Mrs. B, the crazy old lady, the witch, the wild one. It was all coming into focus. Esther Buland. Someone would want this article besides the Fondis Daily News. I began clicking images unto film.

National Novel Writing Month

2004-10-27T16:48:00.000-07:00

November is National Novel Writing Month—a "seat-of-your-pants approach to novel writing" designed to extract a novel from your head within thirty days. So, here goes.