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Smashwords Edition Copyright 2020 Pamela Joan Barlow Smashwords Edition, License Notes This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
**C** **ast of Characters:**

Samuel (Ace) Attila Smith, IV, military judge, USA Coast Guard base

Fawn Fong, fiancé of Ace

Buck, Guard soldier, friend of Ace

Jewel Gem Smith, 15 years old, daughter of Ace

Slick, Coast Guard soldier, friend of Ace

Samuel Attila Smith, Junior, grandfather of Ace
Historically, on a sandy shoreline of white tinted sand grains, a small one-story brick-covered fortress stood beside the fresh waters of Mobile Bay. The Mabila Native American Indian tribe had lived and hunted on those fertile lands for centuries, until the year 1540 A.D., when the Mabila tribe were attacked from a sea expedition by a world Spanish explorer, who was named Hernando de Soto with his band of Spanish conquistadors.

Spanish explorer Hernando de Soto died on the foreign soil of the New World, seven years later along with most of his Spanish conquistadors. The rest of the starving Spanish soldiers and settlers integrated with the Native American Indian tribes or left the new land returning back to Spanish ships, traveling back home to the country of Spain.

In the year 1700, the French soldiers came to the new territory and then claimed all of the warm, rich Gulf coast shoreline, starting at the present-day city of Pensacola within the northern Florida panhandle region heading western towards the present-day city of Galveston within eastern portion of Texas, which was unnamed at the time _._

In the year 1701, King Louis of France sent two French Canadian brothers, who were named Pierre Le Moyne d'Iberville and Jean-Baptiste Le Moyne, Sieur de Bienville to the new wilderness lands. They lived and protected the new land claims starting at the present-day city of Mobile heading westward ending at the present-day city of New Orleans for the Crown of France. Jean was named as the royal governor of the new lands, which was called _La Louisiane_.

In the year 1702, the French colonists came by sea ships and then settled down on top of the white tinted sandy shoreline, constructing _Fort Louis de la Louisiane_ , on the Mobile Bay, the first capital of the _La Louisiane_ territory.

In the month of March, in the year 1703 _, Little Easy_ became the famous nickname for the seaport city of Mobile and the capital city of the colonial French _La Louisiane._ This small group of implanted Mobilians organized and then celebrated its first Mardi Gras event here, within the New World. A Mardi Gras party involves people, who dress in an ornate costume, such like, a fairy, an animal, a mythological god or goddess, a silly circus clowns, or a Medieval royal prince or princess. No peasant attire is allowed here.

Each elaborate creation is decorated with colorful feathers, a specifically designed face mask, and a long glittery body cape with an elaborate themed-costume. The Mardi Gras event is not a celebration of Halloween holiday while wearing a silly or horrible face mask, such like, a zombie, a mummy, a flying bat, a witch, but does carry a death theme. The Mardi Gras event is a celebration of life, right before Ash Wednesday, which is a day of somber peace with Almighty God or your current supernatural entity.

The Mardi Gras Day parade includes an array of colorful motorized floats featuring exquisite costumed riders, and sometimes, small live animals, leading towards the host house or the selected hotel ballroom for the one of many Mardi Gras masked balls that lasts until the wee morning hours.

Back in the country of France, within the year 1703, the Catholic bishop from the local church decided to screen and then provide a group of twenty-three young female virgins, who possessed virtue and piety and were accustomed to hard labor and diligence, for the French soldiers that were stationed in the New World, specifically at the French colony and fort which was named _Fort Louis de la Mobile._

The sea vessel named _Pelican_ sailed to the New World, docking at the new French colony of Mobile, in the year 1704, with adult passengers and twenty-three "Pelican Girls." The nickname had been assigned to the set of young, twenty-three, twenty year old virgin females that debarked that day from the named sea ship.

On the same ship, with the twenty-three French young females, the sea ship stopped for supplies, in the city of Havana, within the present-day country of Cuba, where the passengers and crew members contracted yellow fever. The ship members brought the disease into the sea port of Mobile, where some of Mobilian colonists and almost all of the Native American Indians contracted the virus, very deadly. The city of Mobile received its first shipment of imported African slaves coming from a French supply boat at the French colony of Saint-Domingue, in the Caribbean islands.

By the year 1706, the seaport town of Mobile had grown to 279 persons and then descended down to 178 persons due to the yellow fever epidemic.

Yellow fever is a disease with a very short clinical duration, presenting symptoms of a fever, chills, loss of appetite, nausea, muscle pains, and a headache while displaying yellow tinted skin tissue. The bodily symptoms improve after five days. On the sixth day, the fever affects the body again, causing abdominal pain, liver damage, risk of bleeding, kidney problems, and another yellow-tint hue on the epidemic skin tone, right before the death act. Modern-day medication did not exist back in the year 1704. Yellow fever is caused by a virus which is spread by the bite of an infected female mosquito, that lives and breeds within a swampy wet dirt environment.

In the year 1711, _Fort Louis de la Mobile_ was abandoned due to the sea floods and the outbreaks of yellow fever cases, relocating the fort several miles downriver, constructing a new fortress the present-day confluence of the Mobile River and Mobile Bay. By the year 1712, the population had grown to 400 persons.

In the year 1720, the capital of _La Louisiane_ territory relocated to the present-day city of Biloxi, within the US State of Mississippi. The seaport town of Mobile served a military division and a trading center. In the year 1723, a second fort was constructed and named _Fort Conde_ , in honor of Louis Henri, prince of Conde.

For over sixty years, the French colony, _Fort Louis de la Mobile_ had thrived with French colonists, until a nasty invasion force came from the foreign country of Great Britain, in the year 1763. The invading British came to the New World and captured the fort.

That same year, the _Treaty of Paris_ was signed by two representatives from the continues of England and France, ending the _Seven Years' War_ , where England had finally defeated France.

In the New World, after the battle, the country of France ceded the landmass starting easterly at the Mississippi River to the country of England, which became part of the British West Florida colony for King George, the third. The name of the French fort was changed to _Fort Charlotte_ , after the wife of King George, Queen Charlotte of Mecklenburg-Strelitz. However, the British colonists and merchants in the New World were not eager to lose the useful French colonists, who stayed and thrived there at Fort Charlotte.

Over additional decades, the old and new merchants, traders, priests, and colonists coming from the established New World cities of Savannah, Georgia and Charleston, South Carolina assisted in the development and prosperity of the modern-day city of Mobile. In the year 1766, _Fort Charlotte_ recorded 860 individuals living on the shoreline and surrounding fertile lands.

In the year 1776, during the American Revolutionary War, people fled from the northern cities and then hid inside the seaport of Mobile and the settlements of west Florida. When the rebel colonists were dealing with the Red Coats from the country of England, the Spanish king sent into the New World his Spanish conquistadors, who entered the American fight, in the year 1779, as an ally of France. The Spanish and France soldiers and leader worked together then made numerous land grabs taking back the western portion of present-day U.S. State of Florida, which had been lost during the _Treaty of Paris_.

The plot was successful.

Bernardo de Galvez, the governor of _Louisiana_ captured the seaport of Mobile, during the Battle of Fort Charlotte, in the year 1780, and renamed the fort, _Fortaleza Carlota_ , and held the fort and surrounding lands as part of the _Spanish West Florida_ territory.

During the War of 1812, with the British king and his army of Red Coats engaged a second battle with the newly united USA. American General James Wilkinson captured the city of Mobile for the USA. In the year 1813, the seaport of Mobile, with a population of 300 individuals, became part of the USA, when President James Madison grabbed the land territory of western portion of present-day US State of Florida back from the country of Spain.

In the year 1819, the population of Mobile reached 809, when the _Alabama Territory_ was granted statehood into the USA. The seaport excelled in sea trade and was aided by the introduction of a new mode of transportation, a river steamboat. By the 1822, the city recorded 2,800 individuals.

The Industrial Revolution propelled the seaport of Mobile into higher wealth growing fields of cotton, using free slave labor and creating food stuff, new clothes, and other home and business supplies for all types of residents, slaves, and visitors.

The Industrial Revolution is also known as the First Industrial Revolution, starting at the time period of 1760 towards 1840 A.D. The change from a hand-production method to a man-made machine era saw the creation of numerous items, such like, the steam power, the water power, the train locomotion, the manual typewriter, the photography machine, the sewing machine, and the cotton gin factory, just to name a few technological innovations. This new event marked a major turning point which affected the daily life of each worker. The average hourly money wage increased which increased the standard of living for every worker, producing a better lifestyle for each family unit or individual.

During the 1830s, the happier and wealthier citizens created a home mansion boom that spread throughout the city and surrounding lands in Mobile, until the Panic of 1837, with another type of yellow fever epidemic. The waterfront property developed sea wharves, seaport terminal facilities, and brick warehouses that held walls of cotton bales. By the year 1840, the city of Mobile was the second largest export of cotton bales behind the city of New Orleans, within the US State of Louisiana.

In the year 1860, the number of individuals were recorded at 29,258 people, where the city of Mobile was the 27th largest city, within the United States of America, and the fourth largest town, within the new _Confederate States of America_ , in the year 1861. Mobile County held 29,754 citizens, with 1,195 free people of color. Cotton plantations numbered 1,785 owners of slaves, who held 11,376 people in bondage, which was one-quarter of the total population of 41,130.

The _American Civil War_ started in the month of April, within the year 1861, the city of Mobile became a Confederate city. Towards the end of the _American Civil War_ , at the Battle of Mobile Bay, the Union troops, arrived, captured and then controlled Mobile Bay, on August 5th, in the year 1864.

On April 12th, in the year 1865, General Robert E. Lee surrendered to the Union troops, at the _Appomattox Courthouse_ , in the city of Mobile. After the _American Civil War_ , the seaport town of Mobile was devastated by both war failure and the political control of the ruling party. By the year 1878, the personal income and business profits had dropped down from nine million dollars to three million dollars, in the year 1882.

Currently, within present days and times, the city of Mobile holds 413,002 residents. The city is the third largest town, in the US State of Alabama. Within a sixty-mile radius, 1,263,013 individuals live, work, and play, which is surrounded by fertile crop lands and busy roadways with commercial businesses and residential homes near the seaport. Mobile is the only saltwater seaport on the Gulf Coast region and is the 12th largest seaport in the USA.

The land mass of Mobile is 159.4 square miles with 117.9 square miles of flat land and 41.5 square miles of fresh water. The sea elevation stands at ten feet and three inches on top of _Government Street_ and higher at 211 feet at the Mobile Airport facility.

Some of the historical neighborhoods include _Ashland Place, Campground, Church Street East, De Tonti Square, Leinkauf, Lower Dauphin Street, Midtown, Oakleigh Garden, Old Dauphin Way, Spring Hill,_ and _Toulminville._

The weather climate, in the city of Mobile, presents hot, humid summers in the months of May, June, July, August, September at 91 degrees Fahrenheit and mild, rainy winters in the months of December, January, February, and March at 40 degrees Fahrenheit. The lowest air temperature in the wintertime was negative one degrees Fahrenheit, on February 13, in the year 1899. A shower of white tinted snowflakes is rare within the city with last recorded snowfall sheet, on December 8th, in the year 2017.

The city averages 120 days-per-year with 0.01 inches of rain. The months of July and August are the wettest months with heavy thunderstorm activity along with dangerous ocean hurricanes.
Saturday, June 29th

09:09 pm

Sizzling heated night with hot air temperatures

Moonlight beams with billions of twinkling stars

Mobile Church location

Rear lawn setting

The Mobile Church dirt, grass, and flowered campus encompassed 200 acres of flat land, including a tall and wide auditorium building, that held 1,000 people or lost souls, as the preacher worded it. Around the massive structure, a set of separate buildings all in brownish-red tinted brick had been patented by the church administration for some non-celestial reason. A squat structure housed all of the eager, active, noisy, smelly and loud church children, starting at age one month up towards twelve years of age, who gathered inside the day care center or pre-kindergarten classes or the kindergarten classes for first to sixth grade, inside a massive academic school building in brownish-red brick also.

On the opposite side of the auditorium building, an entertainment structure provided a movie theater for two hundred people, a dining room setting for 1,000 hunger people, and assortment of other play rooms that housed rows of life-sized video booths for both teens and adults, a billiards table for the adults, a pong-pong table for the teens, an indoor kitchen and fire house for the children, and an indoor playground setting for the toddlers, and other fun pieces of recreational equipment that amused both children and adults of all ages. Outside the entertainment building, a giant outdoor swimming pool offered fun water entertainment with a trained group of paid and professionally licensed life guards which always saved a drowning soul.

Use and abuse the pun!

A crystal clear pale blue tinted swimming pool was enclosed with a long and tall concrete wall which separated the massive plot of nicely manicured grassy lawn, where numerous picnic tables stood for eating and entertainment with the family unit or tow. For some wicked fun, the church administration had built a real hilltop on top of the flat manicured grass and as the landmass in the city of Mobile was flat, fertile, and only several thousand feet from the Gulf of Mexico warm ocean waters, where the dolphins played and the fish swam, all day and night.

Each naked natural colored picnic table in light wood was located on top of the hilltop near the swimming pool concrete wall. In the front of the picnic tables, a nice curvy slope allowed all the children to roll down the fake hilltop towards the valley floor, for fun. At the bottom of the fake hilltop of nice short grass blades, a plot of manicured lawn was empty and ready for another event at the Mobile Church grounds. The long and wide flat plot of manicured lawn led directly into a thirty feet smooth wall of concrete which was smooth and solid, where each non-raining Saturday evening, the church displayed a fun, family Hollywood movie film for free to the patrons and community members.

The middle of the hilltop was smooth grass blades for rolling down using your person. Each side was tiered and provided a nice plot of grass and some dirt for a cheap patio lounge chair, where you could enjoy the free movie film.

On the left side of the hilltop, Buck, his wife Beth, and his three sons shared two orange tinted cheap patio lounge chairs, waiting on the family friendly Hollywood movie film while he wrestled with the three boys, in the lounge chair, for fun. His three sons were four years, two years, and eleven months old. The boys crawled over their dad like a spider and then growled in his face like a bear and as Buck gently tossed each son down on top of the grass, hearing their childish laughter.

Beside Buck, his co-worker and friend Slick sat inside a green tinted cheap lounge chair and smiled at the active three boys. Sometimes, he grabbed out and grabbed a flying arm from the oldest son, who liked to hit and hurt their enemies, including their dad Buck.

Beside Slick, Fawn and Ace shared a specially designed red tinted patio loveseat-shaped lounge chair for two people. He leaned over and whispered into her face and as she talked into his mental mind, since she could not speak a work or a grunt a sound or cough out loud. They ignored the commotion around them and talked about their upcoming wedding ceremony.

The campus grounds were enclosed within a square-shaped ten-foot concrete wall that surrounded the city blocks, not that Almighty God told the preacher to do that, but the security wall protected the property and furniture items, and people from the local bad guys that wandered the city streets at night looking for food and trouble.

One solid side white tinted concrete wall, a row of nicely decorated wooden tables with a white colored tablecloth provided tons of free dry, cold, wet, and heated refreshments for the current attendees, which was manned by a group of volunteers from the church membership.

On the last table covered in a row of dirty, messy, smelly tin platters of spaghetti, tomato sauce, and meatballs, three females stood and huddled together, scanning the crowd, without cleaning up the messy platters, gossiping about each church person. Each female was thirty-one years of age, like Ace, and had attended and then graduated from the same private high school with their schoolmate Ace.

The three females were a trio of triplet girls, who continued to dress, act, live, and play together, residing at the home of their parents in Mobile. Each one wore a designer sleeveless, mini-sundress in bright yellow hue over an average height and slightly plump, suntanned body frame and a pair of fashion designer, matching high heeled sandals that sunk down into the soft grassy soil. The neckline, one wrist bone and one ankle bone, both earlobes, the middle and index finger displayed a set of emerald gemstone jewelry.

In the huddle, the third sister stood on one end and the first sister on the opposite end. The third sister reached out and shoved the body on her second sister, scooting sideways away from the table, standing in the semi-dark corner at the intersection of the side and the front white tinted solid concrete wall.

Back on top of the sloped grassy hilltop, in the lounge chair, Slick continued to scan each person with suspicion which was his natural personality and mental psyche, stopping and staring at the huddle of three females. His eyeballs studied and as his mind did a triple view of three identical females. He examined the weird behavior of the three adult women and whispered for his eardrums only. "What trouble are thee cooking up here, my three unfair ladies? Shakespeare would be proud of my word selection."

In the wall corner, within the huddle, the first triplet female sneered, pointing her green tinted manicured fingernail, and stared at Fawn, who cuddled with Ace in their shared lounge loveseat on top of the grassy hilltop. "I see Ace. But Ace is sitting with an ugly girl? Who is that ugly girl with Ace? I don't realize her ugly face. I know all of the ugly girls here at the church. But I don't know that ugly female. Who is that ugly female?"

Her sister, the second triplet female laughed and pointed her matching green tinted manicured fingernail, like her sister's, staring at Fawn with a smile. "O! I see Ace too. And that ugly girl is Ace's future wife."

She gasped in shock. "What!"

Her sister, the third triplet female smiled and pointed her matching green tinted manicured fingernail, like her two sisters, at Fawn also. "What planet had you been shopping on, sister dear?"

On top of the sloped hilltop, in the green tinted lounge chair, Slick did not shuffle his body and as his eyeballs followed the finger pointing from the three adult females, viewing the cuddled body of Fawn and Ace. Slick returned back and softly growled at the triplet sister females and their upcoming trouble.

In the huddle, on the front wall, the first sister frowned. "Update here, sister dear! We all had flown down to Miami, Florida for our annual clothes shopping trip, right before the wedding ceremony of Magritte to Attila Smith which was a couples of weeks ago? Where did that ugly female come from? Who is that ugly female? Who is that ugly female's daddy?"

The third sister frowned. "No one knows who she is or who her daddy is. Believe me! We returned back on Friday night. You went to bed or trying on your new clothes. Mother, she cornered me in the hallway and told me about the ugly female. That ugly female is a complete mystery and surprise. That ugly female had attended Magritte's wedding. Ace had introduced for the first time and told everything that he was in love and was going to marry her."

"What!" The first sister gasped in shock and continued to examine Fawn.

"When is Ace getting married? Who would wanna marry him anyways? He inherited that teenager girl, who is named Gem Smith. Her mother died in a mystery accident that had occurred somewhere here in Mobile or maybe out from Mobile. I didn't get all the information. Our mother didn't know either. But he has a teenager living in his house, too, along with that ugly female."

"What!" The first sister gasped in shock and continued to examine Fawn. "I wanna marry Ace."

"What!" The third sister turned and gasped in alarm at the first born triplet female. "What does your silly statement, sister dear?"

The first sister turned and smiled at the nose profile on Ace. "I have loved Ace, since the first grade, at our shared elementary school. I wanna marry him and become his wedded wife for the rest of my living days. Now, I find that he has went behind my back spine and brought home a tramp. I do believe that I need to do something about this delicate situation that has crept and crawled over my man Ace."

The second turned and laughed in the face on her sister. "Ace, he has never shown a love interest in you, since the first day at our shared pre-kindergarten class and on the last day of our shared graduation day, and definitely and defiantly not at our wild and crazy graduation party, either, sister dear."

The first sister smiled. "He kissed me. We dated. I was his only girlfriend throughout high school days and night."

The third sister winked. "Yeah, you and Ace dated, when he needed a piece of eye candy on his arm for one of the numerous teenly social events, like my manly idol, Austin Bartholomew Berrington. Ace went to military school. You went to sunny Miami. Yeah, you and Ace parted ways and talents and skills and kisses," she softly chuckled with the other triplet sister.

The first sister frowned. "The past is passed. I live in the present for the future. I wanna marry Ace. I am a true southern belle and native of Mobile. Does that ugly female live here in Mobile?"

At 09:11 am, the tall column of bright flood lights powered down for a few seconds and then quickly illuminated indicating that the Hollywood movie film was about to begin. The crowd started to settle down and watched a black tinted concrete wall without lights or action. A few seconds passed and as every person sat underneath the twinkling stars of the early evening night. The wall was still black hue, without lights or sound. Then, the tall row of flood lights illuminated again.

A male voice shouted out loud through the hidden speaker boxes on each tall flood light. "Sorry folks! We're having a minor equipment problem with the laptop. Give us a few minutes!"

The crowd started chanting for fun. "Movie! Movie! Movie..."

On top of the hilltop, in the shared loveseat-shaped furniture, Ace jerked his face from her kiss and gasped in alarm. He was concerned about the crowd of bored children and annoyance teenagers and as he possessed a teen female, who demanded everything too. Also, he was applying for one of the two available Elders positions at the church.

An elder of the church was one of the spiritual leaders, which was a mature man or woman, who was the head of the family unit with a strong moral character, who feared Almighty God and full of the Holy Spirit, guiding the patrons of children, teenagers, adults in wisdom, discernment, courage, fairness, and freedom.

This was an opportunity to show-off his cool set of elder skills, during the brief crisis with the faulty laptop equipment inside the tower building which was not exhibiting the rental Hollywood movie film for the family and kids. He turned and scanned the nosily crowd, smiling with his brilliant plan, returning back and leaned over, kissing her face. "I gotta go and implement my new rescue plan." He pulled back with soft laughter and swiftly stood upright from the cheap loveseat-shaped patio chair, tilting the piece of furniture towards the ground.

Fawn gasped in shock, without a sweet sound, and quickly leaned sideways in the opposite direction, before the cheap loveseat patio chair tumbled down the sloped grassy hillside towards the couple with the children in front of her feet.

Ace rapidly scooted around each sitting couple with children wearing a smile and slapped the side concrete wall, avoiding the running kids, the kissing teenagers, and the chatty couples, swiftly dashing down against the wall and then hit a flat ground of manicured grass, moving ahead towards the opposite side of the front wall.

On the other side wall intersection, within the huddle, the second sister gasped in shock and stared at Ace. "What is Ace doing over there? Where is Ace going? What is going on here with Ace and without us? Did we need to do something too?"

The third sister smiled at Fawn. "That ugly female does not live on our street corner. However, if you really wanna marry Ace, then we will make it so, sister dear."

"How are we going to do that?" The second sister turned and frowned at her sister.

The third sister swiftly scooted sideways and then stopped in front of the messy table with the row of smelly dirty, pans and platters, without offering to clean up the mess. She reached down and grabbed three objects off the hidden shelf, underneath the messy, smelly white tinted tablecloth, standing upright with a smile, shuffling back over the grass to her two sisters. She stopped and handed out each item with a smile. "I have some additional information that will help our first born triplet sister and benefit Ace. Ace is applying for the elderly post here at the church." Each sister accepted the item and cuddled the object into her chest.

The second sister gasped in shock. "That's a big deal!"

The third sister smiled. "That's a very big deal. If Ace becomes an Elder here at our church, then he must be present at each and every social event. The admission of an elder is so important, because only a married man or woman can apply for the post and the man or the woman is allowed to sigh affection in front of the masses, because the elder loves the spouse. And his wife will become a Lady Elderette, with all of the other Lady Elderettes, a super-duper honor coming from the church. She will stand beside Ace and greet each patron, like a true Princess of the South for all of the church peoples."

"Did you hear that? Do you see that?" The first sister nodded with a stern face and slapped her face. "This is an important honor for me and Ace, not that ugly female. I bet that ugly female does hail from here in Mobile either. She never has attended church with us or Ace. That ugly female will ruin his chance at the Elderly post. There are only two open positions here at the church. Each Elder stays their duties, until their death day. Right now, the Elder committee is composed of mature men and women, who are not sick with an illness or close to their death day. This is Ace's only chance. Do you see that?"

The second sister nodded with a stern face. "Yes, I see, and I hear, too, sister dear."

The other food servers were cleaning and clearing the rows of dirty, messy, smelly tin plates, platters, and dishes for the evening on each assigned wooden table, before retiring from their voluntarily church job, enjoying the fun, family Hollywood movie film with their family unit.

On top of the flat level grass plain, Ace stopped at the command station, which was a lonely, naked wooden table, holding some of the male and female elders, who watched over the crowd control and security of the families and friends. He leaned down with a grin into one of the sour faces. "Hey, Howie! Do you possess a portal microphone? I wanna..."

"What are you doing over here, Ace?" Howie leaned back from the invading smile on Ace and wear a red tinted short-sleeved shirt, a pair of blue tinted walking shorts, a pair of yellow tinted athletic sneakers with a pair of orange tinted socks. He slapped gray tinted hair strands across the bald spots over the bone skull, displaying a pair of hazel tinted irises, a tone of olive tinted skin, snapping with annoyance. "You are not an elder and allowed over here. Get back now! Go back to your seat, Ace!"

Ace winked with a smile. "I'm saving the moment as I am a good elder."

Howie sneered. "We should see, Ace. An elder..."

"Here, you go, Ace!" One of the elder females smiled at Ace and handed a portal microphone to the young, ingenious man, who was a working military judge and an upcoming husband to a sweet, mute girl named Fawn.

The elder position was always a competitive post within the church administration. The elder position was an honorary title that did not get a man or a woman through the heavenly gate, but the elder post stowed a degree of respect from the church people and the community members that helped the church raise money funds and keep the city of Mobile respectable and clean.

Ace accepted the microphone and nodded to the female elder. "Thanks, Georgina!"

"What are you going to do with a portal microphone, down here, Ace?" Howie sneered at the man.

At 09:14 pm, Ace didn't explain but smiled at the row of elders and spun around, dashing into the middle of the manicured lawn, in front of the solid white concrete wall, waving one arm in the air and spoke into the portal microphone. "Hey! Hey!" The crowd started to settle down. He continued. "Hello! Hello! My name is Ace. Yeah, my man is the same noun as a poker card," he laughed with some of the patrons. The other snobby patrons gasped in shock.

In the control tower, the controller watched the crowd and Ace with a smile, flipping on a spreading green tinted laser beam that bombarded the grass, the solid wall, and the upright body on Ace, making all of the items glow in green hue.

At the command table, Howie pointed at Ace and shook his head of balding, gray tinted hair strands that did not cover his front or rear bone skull. "Did you hear that? Did you see that? He jokes too much with his bad attitude and ill-bred manners of a southern rebel, not southern gentleman."

The female elder laughed. "Ace has always carried a bad attitude, since his parents were murdered here in Mobile. I can pardon that."

"I cannot pardon that."

"You are not the only one on the Elder committee, Howie!" The female laughed.

In front of the solid wall, Ace continued to stand with a smile and waved his arm at the loud nosily crowd, speaking his words into the microphone. "Calm down! Calm down! I'm up here to entertain you, until the laptop works ago, showing the movie film. How about we all sing a song? Does everything know the words to _Down by the Bay_?"

The crowd roared in union, "Yes."

_Down by the Bay_ is a children's song. The words had been written and performed by musical artist **Raffi** , playing on his 1976 musical record album, which was entitled _Singable Songs for the Very Young._

Ace nodded with a smile and slightly swayed his body on top of the grass with fun. "All right! That's great! Everyone, calm down, so we can sing together. I will sing the first repeating verse and then you join me for the repeating the same verse. Then, I will sing out the funny question, alone and in harmony," he chuckled with some of the audience members. "Then, we all sing the repeating verse again and then I will sing out another funny question, alone and in harmony. Does everyone get the musical sequential pattern? Good!"

In the semi-dark wall corner, within the huddle of triplet females, the first sister frowned down at the object. "What is your plan, sister dear?"

On the sloped hilltop, Slick continued to stare at the three triplet females and leaned over, whispering into the cheekbone on Buck. "Hey, Buck! Do you see the three Wayward sisters in the semi-dark corner at the intersection of side and front concrete walls? I do believe that they are up to some no-good and evil intentions."

Buck exhaled with annoyance his co-worker and friend. Slick possessed a suspicious personality and an active mental psyche, since his infant birth that created a quiet, insane person. Buck briefed looked up with a smile and glanced at the triplet females, who were a familiar presence at each church function, except for the past two weekends. Then he grunted in pain and returned back, exhaling sour breathes at his two sons, who had punched his tender guts for fun.

Slick turned and smiled at the two active boys, who enjoyed slapping their father with love taps that were hard and painful.

Boys will be boys.

The crowd of church people roared in union at the posed question from Ace, "Yes."

At the semi-dark wall intersection, away from the last messy, smelly food table, the third sister dashed ahead with a set of giggles ahead towards Ace. Her two sisters gasped in shock and followed the back spine on their sister in silence.

In front of the white tinted concrete wall, Ace nodded with a grin and started to sing with his natural baritone voice, without a musical instrument or a portal organ, through the portal microphone to the crowd of watchers. "Down by the bay. Where the watermelons grow. Back to my home, I dare not go. For if I do, my mother will say." He smiled with the crowd starting to sing out loud. "Down by the bay..."

The triplet females dashed from their assigned dirty, smelly food table and stood around Ace, holding a microphone also, singing in a trio of sweet soprano voices, like a trio of heavenly angel girls, of course, "Down by the bay..."

On top of the flat grass, Ace turned and frowned at the older triplet female, still singing in perfect baritone pitch with the rest of the crowd. "Where the watermelons grow..."

"Where the watermelons grow," the trio of girls sung in perfect soprano harmony and as they also sung in the church choir. The crowd of patrons roared with delight and started clapping for the triplet females.

Ace returned back and smiled at the crowd of musical voices while singing the rest of the musical tune. "Back to my home..."

"Back to my home..." the trio of girls continued to sing in perfect soprano harmony.

On top of the hilltop, Buck was busy playing with his three sons. His wife Beth calmly sat and carefully watched over her husband and her three young children, reacting to an emergency. However, Buck was a strong man, a great husband, and a wonderful father, carefully playing with each son, using his set of strong muscles.

On top of the flat grass, Ace smiled and sung in perfect baritone pitch with the rest of the crowd. "Back to my home."

"Back to my home," the trio of girls sung in perfect soprano harmony.

Slick jerked his smile from Buck and the three kids and stared with a worried brown at the three females with intrigue. He had been birthed in the beach city of Mobile also. However, no one knew that information and as Slick kept his true identify a secret from everyone. But he also knew the triplet females, who were sisters and lived with their parents. The triplet females were very wealthy and didn't need to work, only play and have fun. Now, the triplet females were standing too close to Ace and singing with the judge.

On top of the flat grass, Ace smiled and sung in perfect baritone pitch with the rest of the crowd. "I dare not go."

"I dare not go," the trio song in perfect soprano harmony.

Slick did not move his skull but darted his two eyeballs, studying Fawn, who was a mysterious girl, as well. Fawn continued to sit with happiness and danced in the loveseat, mouthing the words of the familiar child's song, without a musical tone or a vocal sound.

Fawn was another intriguing fascination too. But Slick would never investigate Fawn, without Ace's permission in the format of verbal, written, electronic, and sworn promise to Almighty God. But she didn't seem jealous or worried about the triplet females. However, she should become greatly concerned.

On top of the flat grass, Ace smiled and sung in perfect baritone pitch with the rest of the crowd. "For if I do."

"For if I do," the trio of girls sung in perfect soprano harmony.

Slick darted his eyeballs and studied the triplet females and did not move his body, leaning over, whispering into the cheekbone on his friend Buck. "Did you see the Wayward sisters down there around Ace?"

Buck continued to wrestle with two of his sons and gleamed up at the three girls that surrounded Ace, like a trio of groupies. "Yeah." He returned back and laughed, playing with his two sons.

On top of the flat grass, Ace smiled and sung in perfect baritone pitch with the rest of the crowd. "My mother will say."

"My mother will say," the trio of girls sung in perfect soprano harmony.

On top of the hilltop, a worried friend Slick stared at the triplet females. "Are you worried for Ace and Fawn?"

Buck smiled and played with his children, "Naw."

On top of the flat grass, Ace smiled and sung alone without the rest of the crowd. "Did you ever see a moose kissing a goose?"

"Down by the bay," the trio of girls sung in perfect soprano harmony.

The crowd of church people exploded into applause and laughter honoring the quartet of talented singers. Some of more daring, bold church members shouted out loud their individual comments in the air waves, for some entertaining fun. "Naw!"

"Yeah!" A female voice screamed out loud from the crowd.

"No!" A male voice shouted out loud from the crowd.

"Nope!" A second male voice hollered out loud from the crowd.

"Yes. Yes. Yes!" A second female voice in soprano shouted out loud from the crowd.

"Yeah!" A third female voice in alto timber laughed out loud within the crowd.

"Maybe!" The last male voice yelled out loud from one of the sitting church members.

On top of the hilltop, inside the green tinted cheap lounge chair, Slick continued to stare at the triplet females and whispered into the cheekbone on Buck. "You should become greatly worried for Ace."

Buck laughed and as his two sons liked to punch his hard muscles, whispering back to Slick, "Why should I become worried about Ace? Ace can take care of his person. Or his Resources do it for him. Have you ever met? That's the wrong word. Have you ever seen one or more of his Resources?"

On top of the flat manicured lawn, Ace smiled and waved to the crowd, signaling the start of the sing again. "Down by the bay."

The triplet females sung in a trio of sweet soprano voices, "Down by the bay..."

Slick ignored the questions and whispered back. "The three Wayward sisters are trouble and will create trouble for Ace."

"Do you know the three pretty girls? You should know the three females. They are a set of triplets and attend church services each week here at the same church campus."

On top of the flat manicured lawn, Ace smiled and sung with the crowd. "Where the watermelons grow."

The triplet females sung in a trio of sweet soprano voices, "Where the watermelons grow."

On top of the hilltop, Slick did not move and whispered back, "They are the triplet sisters and live here in Mobile and attend the same church with us and Ace. Did you ever see them, Buck?"

"Naw! I see my beautiful wife and my three active boys, all the time. Why are you worried about the three sisters that are only singing with Ace? Ace has saved the moment of disaster with his awesome singing talents. The crowd would become both horrible and terrible including all of the children, if the movie film didn't start on time."

On top of the flat manicured lawn, Ace smiled and sung with the crowd. "Back to my home."

The triplet females sung in a trio of sweet soprano voices, "Back to my home."

Slick exhaled with annoyance and decided to educate Buck. "Do you know what the term, Wayward sisters, represents?"

Buck said. "Yeah."

On top of the flat manicured lawn, Ace smiled and sung with the crowd. "I dare not go."

The triplet females sung in a trio of sweet soprano voices, "I dare not go."

Slick gasped in shock. "What!"

"Ugh!" Buck laughed and as his son jumped on his stomach. He continued to play with two sons. The smaller son was asleep on top of a soft blanket on the soft grass blades. Buck smiled. "Wayward is the last name of the sisters."

On top of the flat manicured lawn, Ace smiled and sung with the crowd. "For if I do."

The triplet females sung in a trio of sweet soprano voices, "For if I do."

On top of the hilltop, Slick smiled. "I'm impressed, Buck."

Buck gasped in shock when his son slammed into his leg. "I am not, Slick! What is your point here?"

On top of the flat manicured lawn, Ace smiled and sung with the crowd. "My mother will say."

The triplet females sung in a trio of sweet soprano voices, "My mother will say."

On top of the hilltop, Slick whispered back to Buck and continued to sit and watched Ace and the three females. "The Wayward name is referenced in the Macbeth play by William Shakespeare. Do you recall reading the play Macbeth? Do you know William Shakespeare?"

Buck said. "Yeah."

On top of the flattened manicured lawn, Ace sung alone. "Did you ever see a whale with a polka-dotted tail?"

"Down by the bay." The triplet females sung in a trio of sweet soprano voices.

The audience of church people laughed and clapped for the singers, while the computer technicians continued to work on the Hollywood movie film without success. However, Ace was entertaining the crowd with delight and with jealousy from a few of church elders.

On top of the hilltop, Slick said. "William Shakespeare was the greatest writer and a poetic genius in the world, writing 39 plays both in tragedy and comedy. Did you know that, Buck?"

Buck continued to play with his two sons. "Yes."

On top of the flat manicured lawn, Ace continue to smile and sway his body while starting to sing the repeating verse with the crowd. "Down by the bay."

The triplet females sung in a trio of sweet soprano voices, "Down by the bay."

On top of the hilltop, Slick continued to stare at Ace and the three sisters talking back to Buck,

"Days and nights, during William Shakespeare's time, the method and techniques of writing, grammar, spelling and pronunciation were not standard, like my boring English grammar class in my elementary school. Thus, William was able to influence and shape the English language that affects us all here within the modern days. The expression named, with bated breath, came from the Merchant of Venice by William. A second expression named, a foregone conclusion, comes from the play Othello by William, also, where lots of modern people use and say, without understanding its origin. Did you know that, Buck?"

"Naw." Buck laughed and continued to play with his two sons.

Voice of Ace sung through the microphone along with the crowd. "Where the watermelons grow."

The triplet females sung in a trio of sweet soprano voices, "Where the watermelons grow."

Slick said. "William Shakespeare died in the month of April, on the 23th, in the year 1616, at the age of 52 years old. He signed his Last Will and Testimony document within a month of his death day which stated on the legal document that he was in perfect health. Did you know that, buddy?"

Buck smiled. "Bill was really young."

Ace sung with the crowd. "Back to my home."

The triplet females sung, "Back to my home."

Slick smiled, "However ..."

"There is always the word, however." Buck laughed out loud and continued to play with his two sons.

Ace sung with the crowd. "I dare not go."

The triplet females sung, "I dare not go."

Slick said. "However, William Shakespeare has been dead for over 230 years. The base of modern historians believe that William did not write all of his plays and poems. They modern historians believe that another author wrote the plays and the poems, but they cannot decide on the specific writer either, as usual. Francis Bacon or Christopher Marlowe or Edward de Vere, the 17th Earl of Oxford is in the running for the authorship of all of plays and poems coming from a fake and pretend human named William Shakespeare. What do you think about that, Buck?"

"The dead is dead." Buck laughed again and played with his two sons.

Ace sung with the crowd. "For if I do."

The triplet females sung, "For if I do."

Slick laughed. "That is a profound statement, Buck!" He exhaled with a smile. "Also, there is a conflict in the religious state of William Shakespeare. His family claimed the Catholic faith. However, during his time in the country of Great Britain, practicing the Catholicism was against the King's law with a death penalty or an exile from the country. Did you know that Buck?"

"Who cares!" Buck smiled.

Ace sung with the crowd. "My mother will say."

The triplet females sung, "My mother will say."

Slick laughed out loud. "That's a great joke. The same base of modern historians claim that William Shakespeare was a gay male, not a straight male, which is written in his sonnets that depict passages of intense male friendship with another male, not male-female romantic love. What do you think about that, Buck?"

"Who cares!" Buck grinned.

Ace sung solo with a smile. "Did you ever see a fly wearing a tie?"

The triplet females sung, "Down by the bay."

Slick chuckled. "Another great joke! And William Shakespeare was buried two days after his death. His epitaph carved into the stone included a curse against moving his bones. It translates something like this: Good friend of Brother Jesus do not move my bones, else you will be cursed."

Buck moaned. "Geez! William left behind a curse on his dusty bones. What an asshole?"

Ace sung with the crowd. "Down by the bay."

The triplet females sung, "Down by the bay."

"I agree." Slick chuckled. "And finally, the modern day busybodies are whining that they have not found a pic of William Shakespeare. His physical appearance is missing from painted portraits and statutes. Thus, he did not exist. What do you think about that, Buck?"

Buck frowned. "Why are you bugging me about a dead man from 230 years ago?"

Ace sung with the crowd. "Where the watermelons grow."

The triplet females sung, "Where the watermelons grow."

Slick laughed. "That's a good point, my friend." He smiled. "Now, back to my point!"

"What is your point, again, my old friend?" Buck smiled down at his two playful sons.

Ace sung with the crowd. "Back to my home."

The triplet females sung, "Back to my home."

Slick frowned down at the triple sisters. "The three Wayward or weird or witch sisters never are apart in the play. They do everything together."

Buck faked a smile at his two sons. "Yeah, I had to read that silly ancient play. I didn't really like literature, only science and math. What is your weird point, here, Slick?"

Ace sung with the crowd. "I dare not go."

The triplet females sung, "I dare not go."

Slick nodded and continued to stare down at the triplet sisters. "Did you see the standing triplet sisters on the concrete side wall, alone and lonely, in front of the spaghetti table? They look just like the Wayward sisters from the play Macbeth with a set of chappy fingers, skinny lips, and beards."

Buck laughed. "The spaghetti and meatball platter were good." He burped out loud and then smiled, rubbing a bloated abdomen. "And my tummy thinks so also," he chuckled and continued to play with his two sons. "I don't see a beard on any one of these women."

Ace sung with the crowd. "For if I do."

The triplet females sung, "For if I do."

Slick smiled. "Each one of their pale colored faces wears a black tinted mustache, like a man. One day, accidentally run into anyone of them, then you'll see it," he laughed with Buck.

Ace sung with the crowd. "My mother will say."

The triplet females sung, "My mother will say."

Slick said. "Do you remember the first scene in the play Macbeth? In Act 1.1, three sister witchy hags in strange and wild clothing, resembling the creatures of the elder world, greet and meet gossiping about Macbeth. Well, replace the name Macbeth with the name of Ace. We got a problem, Houston!"

Buck laughed. "You got a problem, man!"

Ace sung solo to the crowd. "Did you ever see a bear combing his hair?"

The triplet females sung, "Down by the bay."

Slick frowned. "No, I do have the problem here. Ace has the problem here. These three witchy Wayward sisters are up to no good, just like the three Wayward sister witches in the play Macbeth."

Buck frowned. "Get a life, Slick!"

At 09:22 pm, around the church campus ground, behind the solid concrete wall, the columns of tall city street flood lamps blinked off and then on coming from the human controller inside a hidden control booth on the second floor of the entertainment building. Ace stopped singing along with the three sisters and smiled to the audience.

A male voice from the tall tower building loudly announced over each one of the hidden speaker boxes. "All right! We have got the Hollywood movie film working. Thank you, Ace and the girl group of angelic singers. Please take back your seat and wait for the beginning of the new family-friendly movie film."

Ace dashed ahead with a smile at his awesome idea while impressing the present Elder committee members, slowly climbing back up the slightly sloped hilltop of short grass blades, moving back to his friends Buck, Slick and his fiancé Fawn. He arrived and stood beside a seated Beth and exhaled with delight at his fun time. The triplet females swiftly followed the back spine on an upright and stationary Ace and collided into his body, wrapping all of their loose arms around his hard muscles, trying not to tumble down the hill slope while giggling out loud.

In the cheap yellow tinted lounge chair, Coast Guard solider Buck gasped in shock but could not remove his two sons from his body, still sitting on top of the cheap yellow tinted lounge chair.

In a green tinted cheap lounge chair, Slick turned and softly growled at the three females, who were still wrapped around Ace, without offering any manly assistance.

In the shared orange tinted loveseat chair, Fawn turned with a smile and then gasped out loud in confusion, staring at the unfamiliar, three adult females, who knew Ace and were wrapped around his body, like a playmate.

Ace grunted out loud from the three female attack and wiggled to freedom, dropping down on the grass, crawling away from the three females and tripped over each set of naked toes on his friends Buck and Slick. He slowly stood upright with a sneer and spun around, staring at the huddle of three familiar faces, who belonged to three former high school friends. "What in the hell?"

The first born triplet sister cuddled with her two sisters and stared at Fawn, "Hello, thee!"

Slick gasped in shock and leaned over with a whisper into the cheekbone on Buck. "Now, this is Act 1 Scene 3. A she-ghost will not speak until spoken too. That's the first line from the three sister witches, when Macbeth arrives on the scene with his dear friend. Hail, thee!"

Buck frowned at the three triple sisters and whispered back to Slick. "I read that boring play too."

The second born triplet sister turned and smiled at the nose profile on Ace. "Hello, Ace, the judge of the court."

The third born triplet sister turned and smiled at the nose profile on Ace. "Hello, Ace, the elder of the church."

The first born triple sister turned and smiled at the nose profile on Ace, slapping her chest. "Hello, Ace, the groom of the bride," she giggled with her two sisters.

Slick continued to sit in the cheap patio chair and shouted out loud using the words from the play Macbeth, in Act 1, Scene 3. "Good sir, why do you start and seem to fear things that do sound so far? I am the name of the truth. Are you fantastical or that indeed which outwardly you show? My noble partner Ace you greet with present grace and great predictions of noble having and of royal hope that he seems rapt with all; to me you speak rot. If you can look into the seeds of time and say which grain will grown and which will not? Speak then to me, who nor beg nor fear your favors nor your hate."

The second born triplet turned and stared at Slick with confusion. "Huh!"

The third born triplet sister turned and viewed Slick with the same confusion. "Huh!"

The first born triplet sister turned and stared down at Slick with confusion also. "Huh!"

Ace pointed his finger at each girl and laughed out loud. "This is Holly, Molly, and Dolly! These are my two best friends and my best girl, who don't wanna know you, either. So, goodbye, triplet threat! Go and find another set of seats someplace else, before the movie starts, and you miss the introduction music. I love hearing introduction music of each movie film." He slid down with laughter and cuddled with Fawn. Fawn waved her hand to the three females, when the columns of flood lamps flicked off. Then, a bright light illuminated on the solid concrete wall, starting the Hollywood movie film. Ace cuddled with Fawn and whispered into her face. He knew the contents of the movie film and wanted to point out all of the funny scenes.

Beside Beth, the triplet females continued to stand in the dark, among the twinkling stars scanning the crowded hilltop, without seeing an empty spot or three for a fanny. They left Ace and his friends, carefully scooting each seated couple with children.

Slick continued to sit and laughed out loud, pointing into the empty air waves. "The earth hath bubbles, as the water has, and these are of them. Whither are they vanished?"

Buck reached over and slapped down the arm on Slick, laughing out loud. "They vanished into the wind. Shut up and watch the movie film!" His two sons sat down on his lap, staring at the bright light on the rear solid concrete wall, where the movie film would display, still wiggling on each kneecap on their father.

The triplet sisters found an open corner, in front of the swimming pool protection wall, sitting down on top of the dry, dirty grass, without a chair or a blanket. They had not planned to stay for the movie presentation, only completing their church duty, which had been assigned by their parents. However, since, Ace was present, the first born triplet wanted to stay and try to talk to Ace alone while her two sisters distracted that ugly female away from Ace.

Back on top of the sloped hilltop, buck leaned over and whisper into the cheekbone on Slick. "Why are you comparing the triplet sisters to the three witchy sisters in the play Macbeth?"

Slick exhaled with worry about Ace. Ace had retired from his career job and possessed a teenage daughter, who was going off to college next year, making him free. Slick also wondered about Fawn. She was a nice girl but could not talk to another person, including Ace.

Slick thought Ace had felt sorry for the young girl and protected her body from that group of nasty goons, acting out the role of a hero. He could not see Fawn and Ace getting married and living the rest of their lives together in silence. Ace was not a quiet guy but a loud mouth rebel running his own life and his own destiny, without a care in the world and a bank account of unlimited monies.

Slick exhaled with worry and whispered back to Buck. "I noticed the triplet sisters during the picnic. They were watching Ace. Then, they decided to sing with Ace. Then, they decided to engage with Ace, right in front of me and you and Fawn. I don't like the three sisters. And Ace is trying to become a member of the Elder committee. I do believe that he is too young; but he is not working a career job anymore and loves his community and his church. So, it makes sense that he wants to become an Elder member serving his home town and his home church. However, for Ace to become an Elder, he must be married. That is the only qualification Ace is lacking for the Elder post. Once he marries, Ace will receive the post and do very work for the church and the community."

Buck smiled. "Ace is going to marry Fawn next week."

He frowned. "Really?"

Buck grinned. "Really!"

Slick said. "Really!"

"Do you not believe Ace?"

Slick frowned. "I am surprised with Ace. Ace has not been his asshole self lately."

"Ace is bored and is looking for a new adventure."

Slick said. "I agree. Ace is bored with lots of people, places, and persons."

"O! I believe I know what you mean," Buck nodded with worry.

Slick exhaled with worry. "Yeah, I mean that. Interestingly enough! The triplet sisters are following the pathway of the three witchy sisters in the play Macbeth."

"Is that good or bad?"

Slick buzzed his lips and continued to whisper into the cheekbone on Buck. His two sons moved down and sat on the grass, watching the movie. Slick said. "I do believe is it bad. The triplet witchy sisters are the three goddesses of destiny. In Act 1, Scene 1, the triplet witches meet and discuss Macbeth. In Act 1, Scene 3, the triplet witches find Macbeth with his friend. Now, substitute Ace for Macbeth, you have the same circumstances."

Why is that important here, Slick? I don't understand. Your vivid mental imaginative is creating more into the casual meeting of three ugly sisters, like the fairy tale of Cinderella."

Slick said. "Cinderella has two ugly step-sisters, not three, Buck. You need to polish up on your childhood fairy tales."

"I have three rough and tough sons. We like demon tales with sticks and stones, not fairy tales with glitter and unicorns," he laughed.

Slick said. "The reason of importance here, in Act 1, Scene 1, the triplet sisters meet and greet, alone and lonely, talking about Ace. In Act 1, Scene 3, the triplet sisters do not casually, but purposefully meet and greet Ace and his friends for a second time. Each sister greeted Ace with a current title and then a future prophecy. Ace is the judge of the court. Ace is the elder of the church. And Ace is the groom for a bride. In the fictional play Macbeth, each witch sister greets Macbeth with a title too. Macbeth is the Thane of Glamis. Macbeth is the Thane of Cawdor. And finally, Macbeth is the king of the country. Then, the triplet sisters vanish away from Ace and his friends."

Buck laughed. "Then I recall the rest of the play with murderous Macbeth. Macbeth and his friends returned back to the castle, where Macbeth was greeted with one of the palace elders and named as Thane of Cawdor. Coming your vivid pretend story, Ace will be named elder of the church next like the next steps of the play. Well, I got some great news that breaks your wicked spell on Ace. Ace cannot become named an elder of the church until he gets married. He will get married, next Saturday morning, here at the church. Then his Elder application must be evaluated..."

"Ace," Howie appeared and stood beside the patio loveseat that held both Fawn and Ace, looking down at the younger man." Buck and Slick turned and stared at Howie, one of the elders at the church, in silence.

From the chair, Ace looked up and smiled, extending his arm, handing back the black-tinted hand-held microphone. "I am sorry! I forget to give back the microphone. I got carried away with my singing."

Georgina stood beside Howie and waved both of her hands near her smile. "I have great news, Ace. The Elder Committee has accepted your nomination and quickly evaluated your elder skills, particularly with tonight's outstanding elder performance. You are now officially a member of the Elder committee. Ace, the elder of the church," she nodded with a smile.

Ace gasped in shock along with Buck and Slick. Ace smiled and stood upright from the cheap patio loveseat as Fawn tumbled sideways but caught her body, before hitting the grass. He leaned over a sideways Fawn without assisting her, extending his hand to the two elders, shouting out loud over the loud crowd. "Thank you kindly! I'm so excited. I can't wait to offer all of my ideas on the first Elder committee meeting."

Howe accepted the microphone and the handshake from Ace, nodding with a stern face. All of the Elder committee members were present tonight for the fun-family Hollywood movie film. However, Georgina had quickly annoyed each elder and collected each vocal vote on the post of the new elder position at the church, coming back with all the votes for Ace, but his. Howie said. "We meet the second Monday night on each month. But that meeting date has already pasted. However, Ace, you are part of the Elder committee, but you must be married to attend the meeting. We hold a cute, simple ceremony for the new elder and his lady. I do believe that will give you enough time to select and then marry a girl as your legal wife and your future Lady Elder."

He nodded with a smile. "Yeah! Right! Got it! Get married before attending the meeting on July..."

Howie spun around with a sour frown and exhaled with annoyance at the new member on the Elder committee. Georgian stared down at Fawn and looked back up with a smile, nodding to Ace."Get married, Ace. That's the next step in awarding your earned Elder title. Both of you enjoy the film, Ace and Fawn!" She back stepped with a smile and spun around, returning back to her seat on the command center, watching the Hollywood movie film."

Ace continued to smile and nod, straightening up the chair with Fawn, shouting out loud with one arm. "I got it. Thanks, Georgina! Thanks, Howie! I will do that. I got it!" he sat down and exhaled with excitement. He really didn't want to see the Hollywood movie film but think about all of his new ideas for his next career, the elder of the church. Ace continued to bounce up and down with the great news.

Fawn leaned over and talked into his mental mind without using her voice cords.

i am so happy for you, ace. you desired this posting.

He stopped wiggling in the chair and smiled with delight. "I didn't desire this position. I dreamed of his position. I worked for this position. My idea worked. I am brilliant. I am so happy. I am the elder of the church.

i am so happy for us, too, ace.

"Yes. Yes. Yes. I'm happy for me, too. I'm the elder of the church. This is great, great, great news. News of a lifetime! I gotta go and tell my dad. Where is my dad? Rats! He's not here at the church campus. He is located back at his home base. When I leave from here, I wanna drop by and tell him the good news."

that's a fine idea, ace. we can go and visit with your granddaddy. i like your granddaddy, ace.

Ace continued to smile and whipped his mobile telephone, looking down at the tiny screen and typed on the tiny keyboard, recording all of his mental electronic notes about each new idea for the Elder committee. He whispered for to his eardrum only. "I'm brilliant. I am the elder of the church. I am the elder of the church. I am the elder of the church. I am so excited and happy." Fawn smiled at the nose profile on Ace without perturbing his electronic writing on his phone, in silence.

In the yellow tinted chair, Buck reached over and slapped the arm on Slick, whispering into the cheekbone on Slick. "It came true!"

Slick slowly nodded in shock."Two truths are told."

"What comes next?"

"Uh!"

"What comes next?"

Slick frowned. "Well, the triplet witchy sisters have announced the next prophesy and it came true. Two truths are told. Then Macbeth go and plans to kill off his friends, who stand in way for the crown as the king of the country."

Buck frowned. "Uh! That's all bad! I know that you know Ace likes eliminate all of family members that stand in his way of glory or freedom or hatred. I hope that prophesy does not come true for Ace, like it did for Macbeth."

Slick frowned. "Well, Ace always uses his Resources. His Resource perform the actual death act that is not traced back to Ace. Do you know any of his secret Resources?"

"No."

"Yeah, I don't know, either. And I have never tried to find out, without ending face down in a six-foot deep grave. I think his team of Resources are a set of convicts from one of the local prisons."

"Really?" Buck gasped in shock.

"Really!"

Buck nodded. "Really! How did you find out that tidbit of secret information?"

Slick frowned. "Ace told me, by mistake. He was mad at someone else and talking too much, after that individual left the court room. We, two were there alone. He mentioned that his Resources were criminals."

Buck gasped. "Wow! Ace likes to live dangerously."

Slick turned and stared at the nose profile on Fawn. "That danger includes the female Fawn also and her unknown band of nasty persons."

At 09:33 pm, during the movie film, a tall and overweight mature woman slowly moved up and down the sloped hillside, across each picnic table, over the flat ground, finding the triplet females. She stopped and blocked the movie film action, squatting down, leaning down into the three faces that looked exactly alike and then sneered. "The spaghetti table needs to be cleaned and cleared."

The third triplet female growled at the mature adult. "Then, you go and do it. We're watching the movie, once you move..."

"... your three fannies, right now and right here," the old woman sneered back down at the three younger women. "Your mother assigned all three of you to work the spaghetti table, three weeks ago. So, you get up right now from the grass and go and clean up that mess on the table, taking all of the dirty pans and dishes back into the kitchen setting, right now. Else, I will find your mother..."

"Fine!" The first sister smiled. "We're getting up from the ground now and will finish our church duty now. Move outta of our way!" The mature adult nodded with a stern face and spun around, leaving the triplet females to perform their church duty. The first sister rolled her two eyeballs and carefully moved ahead through the darkness, hitting the side wall, slowly moving down the concrete towards the lonely table with a messy of dirty pans and dishes. She exhaled with annoyance at her mother for volunteering her time. Her two sisters silently followed the back spine on their sister and gathered around the table, making noises, during the movie film, while cleaning up the mess. After the mess was cleared, the three sisters left the fun, family night movie.

At 09:40 pm, on top of the sloped hillside, Buck stared at the movie without hearing the conversation, leaning over with a smile into the smooth cheekbone on his friend Slick. "What does that mean?"

Slick exhaled with nervousness and stared at the nose profile on Ace, without watching the active Hollywood movie film. "The triplet sisters have provided a noble picture of Ace as a free man with free thoughts of his new freedom, without caring for anyone or anything. The triplet sisters have awoken the passion of a new ambition outside of the military life, which should not enchant or compel Ace to order more so eviler dirty deeds unto others, like the Good Book states. However, Ace is free man now and can act or not act upon his feelings and his desires for freedom or action."

"What does all of that mean, Slick?"

Slick exhaled with annoyance at his friend. "Macbeth, like Ace, listens to his mind and ignores his heart, receiving answers that makes his fate of friends and family, not strangers, clash with his vicious character."

"No, Ace does not."

Slick said. "Look over there and view our friend Ace. He is talking to himself."

Ace continued to type on the tiny keyboard and stared down at the lighted screen, whispering for her eardrums only. "I can't believe that I'm one of the elders of the church. My dad is going to be so happy for me. I can't wait to tell my dad," Ace bounced in the chair while shuffled side to side, cutting off the lighted screen that bothered his neighbors and then gasped in shock, looking up with a smile, seeing the triplet sisters and whispered for his eardrums. "They predicted that I would become an elder of the church. Which triplet sister told me that future prediction? Yeah, the first born sister, she must be talking with a set of heavenly angels. Yeah, she is a sweetheart. She and I used to date during high school. Then I lost track of her during college. Hmm! I wonder if she has some more future predictions for me. I should ask her about that."

Slick gasped in worry and whispered back to Buck while observing Ace. "I am fearful here that Ace will make good on the last prophecy and marry the good witch," he laughs.

Buck gasped in shock. "What! What does that mean? Who is the good witch, Slick?"

Slick huffed with annoyance. "You hear that female elder. She told Ace that the elder post will be awarded to him as long as he marries his girl, before the next Elder meeting. The triplet sister witches are ugly but part of ancient history among the group of limited blue bloods that live and thrive here within the city of Mobile and within the confide of this ancient church too, in which Fawn is not.

"Fawn could be part of the history of Mobile.

Slick said. "Fawn could not be part of the history of Mobile. How do we find out? How do we question her? "She can't talk and tell us."

"She can write with a pencil or an ink pen or type out a text message."

Slick frowned. "She does not write or communicate with anyone but Ace.

"And your point here!"

Slick nodded. My point, one of those triplet sisters would be an excellent wife to Ace and award him the Elder membership, without a doubt."

Buck gasped in shock. "Wow! You are right again, Slick."

"I was hoping to wrong, this time, too. But I'm not wrong here."

Buck frowned. "What does that mean?"

On the side wall, after the gooey mess was cleared, the triplet sisters left the fun, family night movie, slowly moving up the hillside and between the row of naked tables in silence.

Slick turned and gasped in alarm at the motion. "Buck, turn and look subtly over at side wall. The three witchy sisters finished cleaning up their assigned work station and are leaving the campus, not bothering to see the Hollywood movie film."

Buck gasped in alarm too. "What does that mean, Slick?"

"The triplet sister maidens of Mobile are plotting their next engagement with Ace."

"Are the triplet sisters a coven of witches with witchy magic too?"

"The word, coven, comes from the Latin word, conventum, which means convention. The word, coven, had been used until the year 1921, when Margaret Murray said that a set of witches in a group of thirteen meet in a coven."

Buck followed the triplet sisters until they were out of his eyesight, whispering back to Slick, feeling worry and concern for Ace and Fawn, "What are we doing to do about this, Slick?"

Slick jerked his two eyeballs back and stared at the Hollywood movie film without hearing the words, pondering the next move to aid Ace and Fawn. He whispered back to Buck. "We are going to wait and watch, Buck."

At 09:44 pm, a single silver tinted four-door SUV arrived at the house and parked inside one of twelve garage rooms. The trio of females swiftly exited the vehicle and moved ahead inside the home of their parents. The third born triplet sister led her other two sisters through the kitchen space, the living room setting, down the hallway towards the rear of the house and then halted with a smirk. She reached out and opened the closed door, looking up the wooden steps, seeing a faint tint of light from the single bulb on the stepped staircase.

"What are you doing? Where are you going?" The second born triplet sister slammed into the back spine on the third born sister, leaning around, seeing the steep staircase.

"We are getting our sister married to Ace. Follow me, belles!" The third born sister laughed out loud and slowly climbed the smelly staircase that was enclosed in rough dark wooden walls that did not contain a single mounted happy picture frame of family members or a cherry piece of art work.

The first born sister stood on top of the polished dark wooden floor and looked up into the semi-dark staircase. "These non-polished wooden steps lead up into the attic. No one goes up there. Why are we going up there?"

The third born sister as the leader yelled back down to her first born older triplet sister, still slowly climbing each dusty step. "Follow me! I'll explain, when we arrive up there."

The first born sister smiled with hope and slowly climbed each step, following the butthole on her sister, in silence.

At 10:01 pm, the third born sister slammed open the ancient wooden door with a smile and entered a large, heated, rectangular shaped room which was deeply arched with a wooden cathedral ceiling that held an assortment of ceiling fans that did not cool down the room. She turned and moved the side wall with columns of naked wooden beams, without a plaster wall of pretty paint and then stopped in front of a wooden chest of drawers, sliding in and out each drawer, putting out individual item on top of the hard surface of the chest. Her two sisters entered the room and stood in the middle of the dusty room, wearing a sour frown.

The second born sister exhaled with annoyance. "What are you doing, sister dear? What am I doing up here inside the dirty, dusty attic space also?"

The third born sister gathered up all of her new items and spun around, moving back to her two sisters, stopping in the middle of the room. She squatted down and gently placed all of the items on top of the floor, slowly arranging a new unfamiliar floor design. One of her sisters dropped down and watched with intrigue. The third born sister created a circular shape with all of the individual tiny candles that were not lighted first, removing her diamond bracelet second from her wrist bone, wadding the bracelet structure into a loose ball and gently placed the item in the middle of the square shaped design. She removed a long golden tinted ankle bracelet from her hard bone and stretched the mineral below the circle of twinkling diamond, creating a straight line. Then, she removed both of her silver tinted, spear-shaped long dangling earrings from each one her earlobes, stretching out the smooth silver down from the horizontal golden bracelet with a smile. "Why are so angerly, sister dear?"

The first born sister did not move but stared at the nose profile on each one of her two sisters. "How dare you trade and traffic with Ace? I am the only one for Ace."

The second born sister laughed and watched the creation from her third born sister. "What do all of these funny words mean?"

The first born sister frowned and kicked some of the dust balls. "I am not angerly. I am jealous of her. I am supposed to be her, not her."

The third born sister smiled. "Our sister dear is eloquently quoting the words from William Shakespeare."

The second born sister continued to stare at the creation on the floor. "How do you know that, sister dear? We did not attend college."

"One of my former boyfriends attended college and liked to entertain me with his poems that were all quoted from Will. So, I read all of the plays and the poems and then quoted the lines back to him, for fun."

The second born sister continued to sit on the floor and gasped in alarm, jabbing her manicured fingernail down at the new design on top of the dusty floor. "That...that is sinful. Why! Why are you building that thing? Do not do this, sister dear!"

The first born sister dashed ahead and sat down in-between her two sisters, staring with intrigue down at the pretty unfamiliar design on top of the dusty floor. "What is that thing? I can't figure it out. Why is that a sinful thing?"

The second born sister scowled in worry at the completed object. "She...she is designing an altar like...like for worshiping evil Satan, like a witch."

The first born sister gasped in shock and pointed down at the object. "Is that really a Satanic altar? Why are you building a Satanic altar here in our house, inside the attic floor?"

The third born sister smiled and continued to build the object, scattering numerous tiny semi-precious stones around the single art work and inside the parameter of the candles. "This is not a Satanic altar for worshiping Satan. Satan is the bad angel that fell from the grace in heaven. I don't worship or honor Satan, never, ever, foreverly. This is a... a ring, such like, a gigantic wedding band for completing the circle of love, romance, and marriage."

"Really!" The second born sister frowned down at the new object.

"Really?" The first born sister smiled down at the same object.

The second born sister shook her curls and frowned down at the object. "No. No. No. This is an altar, in which, a Wicca witch uses to worship her evil spirits for evil deeds. O no! Our baby triplet sister is a witch. Don't tell our mama!"

The first born sister nodded. "What is a Wicca witch?"

"You are an adult, not a witch, sister dear." The second born sister frowned.

The third born sister nodded. "The art of Wicca is the latest trend among the teenage females which are prominent in books, television programs, and Hollywood movie films, and internet shows. Wicca is a religion consisting of witchcraft, occultism, and neo-paganism. The word, Wicca, comes from Anglo-Saxon language, which means to bend or shape nature to your service.

"The word, witchcraft, is the practice of magic by a human. Occultism practices include astrology, alchemy, fortune telling, and magic coming from the hidden knowledge of the universe and its mysterious forces. An occultist tapes into this unseen, forbidden universal knowledge, in order to access the information and effect your desires. The neo-paganism word comes from ancient European and Middle Eastern religions worshiping nature and the gods and goddesses of nature, including the sun, the moon, the trees, the seas, the sky, the air, the fire, the wild animals, and all of the other natural elements. The sun is the goddess. The moon is the god. Something like that. A Wiccan witch or warlock believes that the goddess resides in everything including the rocks, the trees, the earth soil, the sky, the stars, the animals..."

"...like the force..." the second born sister laughed.

The first born sister smiled. "Like Almighty God or the Prime Creator had created first and then placed pieces of his essence into everything including the same rocks, the same trees, the same earth soil, the same sky, the same stars, the same Wicca witches and warlocks, and the same humans."

"Touché!" The second born sister smiled.

The third born sister continued to slowly pluck off each yellow tinted soft rose petal and sprinkle over the semi-precious stones and the center design while sharing her learned information with her two sisters. "The art of Wicca began 35,000 years ago, when females ruled the planet. Each human life was rich, peaceful and prosperous, worshipping nature and Goddess Mother Earth. Then an invasion force of males attached and then shattered the calm, serene existence of the female-ruled society.

The second born sister laughed. "Well, even I can see the major problem. How is an infant baby supposed to be born into a female-ruled community or town or city?"

The third born sister continued. "The practice of Wicca continued and vowed to fight and then conquer the male-ruled society. Thus, the art of Wicca promotes the goddess entity over the males and men, reclaiming their female or feminine powers of peace, love, understanding over the male authorities and religions and follow the goddesses, including Gaia of Mother Earth and Artemis, Greek goddess of the wilderness. Thus, the practice of Wicca is dominated by a group of brave and bold young determined, smarter females, unlike you, me, and her."

The first born sister frowned. "Give me a broken limb! Men dominated the world! I do protest! Wicked women have dominated men, women, children, teenagers, and elderly persons for eons using their vanity and greediness and selfish feminine ways, such like, Queen Cleopatra, Queen Elizabeth I of England, Queen Jezebel of Israel, Empress Wu Zetian of China, Queen Zenobia of Palmira, Empress Julia Agrippina of Rome, Queen Tamara of Georgia, Queen Elizabeth I of Spain, and the list goes on and on."

The second born sister frowned. "O! We get it now! The first coven of Wicca females began 35,000 years ago. What Planet Earth year would that be?"

The first born sister nodded. "Well, 2000 years, in the present, with the birth of Christ Jesus subtracted from the math number of 35,000 years ago, the ancient year would be 33,000 B.C., before the birth of Christ."

"Did a group of humans really live that long ago?"

The first born sister nodded. "The cavemen and their cave woman and all of the wooly elephants and tigers. Anyways, the first coven of Wicca female in the year 33,000 B.C. decided to create their own nicknames that became the mythological gods and goddesses of nothingness but inside a human mind, since the human civilization of time."

The third born sister continued to lecture. "A Wicca witch or warlock celebrates eight holidays that heightens the interaction between the natural and supernatural world."

The first born sister frowned. "Geez! The Prime Creator grants 52 days on Sunday to interaction between Earth and Heaven without bells, whistles, and streamers plus you can celebrate His name every day of the week, for the entire year, with honor and respect."

"Touché!" The second sister smiled.

The third born sister lectured. "A Wicca witch spell is performed in an altered state of consciousness in order to cause a desired change in their life. Some of the Wicca witch spells, include overcoming loneliness, attract money, inner power, bind an enemy..."

Praying to the Prime Creator fixes all of these human flaws and much, much more with his love, kindness and mercy, sister dear." The first born sister smiled.

"Touché!" The second born sister smiled.

The third born sister lectured more. "The Wicca magic controls spiritual forces making the witch feel powerful, not powerless, performing the secret rituals in secret at night."

The first born sister smiled. "The glory of the Prime Creator will send down the Holy Spirit that will engulf a lost soul, during the daylight and nighttime hours in public, without a secret ritual, but love and kindness and mercy."

"Touché!" The second born sister smiled.

The third born sister nodded. "The appeal from all of these young females wants to fix our destructive environment. The art of Wicca treats nature of Planet Earth with great care and reverence."

The first born sister smiled. "And if all of the people would pray to the Prime Creator, he would work with Mother Nature and fix the damaged environment, because his children are responsible for destroying and damaging Planet Earth, not Mother Nature, not the Prime Creator, but us, including me, you, and her."

"Touché!" The second born smiled.

The third born sister started to pluck off a handful of yellow rose petals and sprinkled around the semi-precious stones while lecturing to her two sisters. "A Wicca witch or warlock live by the rules. Harm no one. Do what you will. Which means, a witch or warlock is free to cast spells or whatever as long as the witch or the warlock does not harm a human or an animal or an insect. And they also endure the Threefold Law, if a witch or a warlock does something bad, then the bad thing will come back to him or her three times over."

The second born sister smiles. "That's a cool rule!"

The first born sister grins. "The Holy Bible rule is better. If you do harm to another human, then you will encounter that same or equal wicked wrath seven times worse on your human body as the soul is pure light and live here on Planet Earth."

"Yeah, that one is much, much better. The Prime Creator rules for shore. And you seem to know too much about the art of Wicca, sister dear." The second born sister growled with concern.

The first born sister nodded. "I like to read all types of weird bizarre books, too, sister dear. The art of Wicca does not provide a set of rules, like a personal instruction manual from the Prime Creator. The single rule: do what you will, allows the Wicca witch to decide her own rule, which could be right or wrong or bad or good or harmful or harmless to the witch and her friends and her enemies and her environment. Unfortunately, the real world is filled with trees, plants, flowers, angels, demons, spirits, Satan, the light force and the dark force that all can lead the witch and her followers down a path of destruction or death. From the _Holy Bible_ , from the Book of Ephesians, Chapter Six, Verses 12 and 13 states, our struggle is not against flesh and blood but against the rulers, the authorities, the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Place on the full armor of Almighty God now, for when the day of evil comes, you stand your ground and do everything to stand against all evil beings and forces. Amen!"

"Amen!" The second born sister smiled.

"Also, a Wiccan witch worries about nature here on Planet Earth. And then she worships all of nature things on the planet, along with Mother Nature. Woe! Woe! Woe! No! No! No! From the _Holy Bible_ , which is your personal instruction manual for life after death and all that jazz, from the Book of Luke, Chapter 4, Verse 8 states, worship the Lord, your God, and serve only Him. Amen! The planet, the plants, the properties, the pets, and the people are all His creations that were created by Almighty God and are not subject to worship but care from his children, who love on top of this borrowed world with our borrowed time."

"Amen!" The second born sister smiled.

"A Wiccan witch does not acknowledge evil, Satan, dark forces, God, angels, mercy, light forces. And the _Holy Bible_ , from the Book of Second Corinthians, Chapter 11, Verses 14 to 15, states that Satan appears as angel of light along with his servants, who pretend to behave as a righteousness warrior. You must worship only Almighty God and repent of your human sins, avoiding the depths of hell fire, enjoying the heavenly ways for eternity."

"Amen!" The second born sister smiled.

The first born sister continued her lecture and waved both of her hands in the air, saying with a stern tone. "A Wiccan witch must use a psychic link and then connects to another life force, be it man or woman or child or animal or plant or tree. "

The second born sister frowned. "What does that mean?"

"That means the mind of the witch connects to your mind and reads all of your thoughts."

"That's impossible!" The second born sister huffed.

"No! That is all possible with black magic or white magic or using dark powers or light powers that do not come from Almighty God and heaven or angels. And I don't want any type of witchy witch reading my internal mind thoughts. I don't like it. I don't wanna a witch near me either. Almighty God does not like it either. In the _Holy Bible_ , from the Book of Deuteronomy, Chapter 18, Verses 10 to 12, the passage states Do not practice fortune telling or engage in witchcraft or cast spells or consult the dead people! He detests these practices and will drive out all the persons, all the nations, and all of everything."

"Amen!" The second born sister frowned. "So, that's really a witch's altar."

The third born sister gasped in alarm. "No. No. No. A Wicca witch or warlock uses a pentagram with five points which is covered in rose petals, semi-precious stones, lighted candle, dried leaves and..."

"Stop it!" The first born sister frowned. "All right! We do believe you that you know too much about witchcraft, which is against God's will. What are you going to do with that thing? What does it do with me and Ace?"

The third born sister frowned. "I am not casting a Wicca witch spell. I was telling you about the art of Wicca. I am not a witch. I am your dear loving triplet sister. Here, I am providing an opportunity for our first born triplet sister to encounter and then engage her true love, Ace."

The second born sister said. "How is she going to do that?"

She nodded with a smile. "The second day of the week is Monday. Monday is a work day for the working class, not us, of course. So, on Monday morning, first born triplet sister will race to the Coast Guard military base..."

"She can't do that." The second born sister frowned.

"...and go and visit our uncle, who is a commander or something on that same military base. Then, she will mosey away from Uncle Basil's office and go and meet with Ace. Ace works in the court room as a judge. You should be able to locate the court room and visit with Ace during the working hour. Ace is at work and can't run off, so he can visit with you."

The first born sister shouted out loud. "Come, sister dear! Let us make haste, not waste!" She swiftly stood upright from the dirty floor wiping the dust off her dirty clothes and spun around to face the open archway, slowly padding ahead, whispering for her eardrums only. "I like the idea visiting our uncle and then seeing Ace. But I'll bring a picnic basket of food, too. A man likes to eat." She left the attic space and stomped down each wooden step with her new plan of action for her man of action, Ace.

Second born sister slowly stood upright from the floor and pointed down at the object on the floor. "That thing is evil. You need to redesign or rearrange the thing into a door wreath for fun, not evil, sister dear." She spun around with a huff and faced the entrance wall, exiting the attic space.

The third sister laughed out loud and continued to sit, spreading the yellow tinted roses over the main character and the rest of the semi-precious stones, whispering for her eardrums only. "I will help my sister whether she wants it or not. Winds to the east and to the west, circle around the air, landing on down on the ace. Ace! Ace! Ace! Now, Ace is possessed with the thoughts of my first born triplet sister, whom he will marry, instead of that ugly non-southern belle female." She giggled out loud and continued to view the altar with a smile. "My witchy spell will work. Then she'll soon be back again, just like Macbeth," she laughed out loud.
Sunday, June 30th

Heated day without clouds and bright sunrays

07:50 am

Within the Mobile Historic District, the Church Street District features both residential homes, government offices, ancient museums, and commercial real estate covering 1400 land acres with 78 ancient building structures. The building styles include Colonial America, Greek Revival, Renaissance Revival, Victorian, Italianate, and Federal structure architecture.

Mobile Church was established in year 1828 in solid vanilla colored concrete slabs that rose five stories into the skyline, featuring a front facade of four Greek-design white tinted circular columns, front and side mini flower gardens, and side walls of glass-stained windows with biblical action characters that tell numerous Bible stories.

A white-tinted, two-seater new sports car slowly turned off the main highway and then carefully steered around a busy gray-tinted parking lot at the Mobile Church, selecting an empty space at the end of the row. The day is Sunday morning and a few minutes before the eight o'clock church service. Inside the driver's chair, Fawn exhaled with worry and killed the engine, exiting the car, without locking the door for safety and security. She wore a sleeve-less, V-neckline patterned, mini-dress in mint green, pair of matching high heeled sandals, a set of mint green colored semi-precious gems in jewelry on her naked throat, two earlobes, one ankle wrist bone plus a four-carat diamond engagement ring on her ring finger of her left hand.

She slowly moved ahead with a smile and admired the nicely square-shaped, manicured front lawn, directly in front of the church auditorium with four individual double entrance doors, a sideways lengthways concrete front porch, and the elevated brick tinted steps, which was surrounded on three sides by green tinted grass blades, a circular short grove of trees, and numerous pods of colorful flowers. In-between each square pod of front lawn, a double-wide vanilla colored walkway led from one of the three parking lots and then intersected at the elevated brick-tinted steps, heading into the auditorium.

Fawn slowly veered around each small or large huddle of church people, wearing a fake smile, without stopping to chat, and as she could not talk using a pair of voice cords with another individual, anyways. She quickly stomped up each step and rubbed against the rough concrete side wall, avoiding the loud crowd of people, entering through the side entrance door. She surveyed each happy smile, every friendly back slap, a firm handshake or a motherly hug on the other peoples.

Fawn scooted ahead through the square-shaped archway alone, turning with a smile, viewing the massive auditorium space. The rows of auditorium pews were completed filled with tons of people and numerous family units, including mothers, fathers, teenagers, children, toddlers, infants, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandmothers, and grandfathers.

Inside the auditorium space, each long side wall was solid plaster in stark white tinted paint, without a single glass window or stained-glass window either that rose up towards the fifty-foot, arched, cathedral ceiling, which was highlighted with wooden dark colored beams.

Above the squared-shaped reception lobby, a balcony space stood on the second floor level, overlooking the ground auditorium floor.

The entrance wall was split in the middle with a smooth light colored wooden platform in front of a ceiling-to-floor, wide, glass-stained single window, where numerous beams of bright morning sunlight twinkled through each glass panel in faint colors down on the floor, which did not touch each side wall, only the wooden furniture items.

From each square-shaped wall corner, a semi-circular wooden platform intersected with the middle space, holding an individual piece of furniture item. Facing the entrance wall, on the left-hand side, a semi-curved, tall, matching light wooden podium almost touched the wall sides and held the preacher. The church preacher measured average height and weight, wearing a pair of eyeglasses, a head of thinning gray tinted hair strands, a tone of suntanned skin, and a pair of brown irises, wearing a dark blue hue silky robe with a white tinted collar, sitting on top of a small stool and motioned for each person into the church. He continued to shout out loud numerous individual words through the microphone on his collar, "Hello! Welcome! Good morning! Please enter the auditorium for the worship service!"

On the opposite side of the preacher, another shorter semi-curved, matching light colored wooden railing enclosed rows of thickly padded individual chairs, which held the church choir made of sixteen year old teenagers through elderly senior citizens, who wanted to sing God's praises during the worship hour.

While the preacher was shouting into microphone directly the flock of sheep towards a pew bench, the choir was standing and swaying to a soft musical marching song for Brother Jesus. Each member of the choir displayed an electric blue, old-fashioned, satin, ankle-length robe which was embroidered with thin strips of yellow-tinted twisted cords around the neckline, for drama and flair. Each pair of naked hands cuddled a matching electric blue colored notebook that contained all of the musical song sheets for the worship service.

The wandering crowd of church people slowly waddled down one of the three aisles, sitting with their family members or their family friends, staring at the preacher while listening to the happy marching song from the choir members.

Fawn stopped at the edge on the second pew and looked down with a smile at her new friend, Buck. Buck was thirty-four years of age and stood taller and bigger than a big horn elk mammal with a pair of invisible horns on top of his hard head, a tone of glowing pale skin, a pair of brown tinted eyeballs, a head of wavy shoulder-length blonde colored hair, and a matching blonde tinted mustache, wearing a blue tinted dress shirt, without a necktie, a dark blue blazer, a pair of tan colored trousers, and a pair of dark blue loafers without a pair socks. He would not shave the whiskers off his face as his wife loved it and Buck loved his wife.

His wife dressed in a peach colored ankle-length sleeveless dress, a pair of matching low sandals, a matching garden hat that did not cover her eyeballs, only her hair roots of blonde hue, where her eyeballs could capture her three sons within the church pew. Each little boy was dressed like their father and it was very cute and precious.

Buck sat at the end of the pew bench keeping his toddler three sons in-between him and his wife, during the introduction part of the worship service. He stood upright and allowed Fawn passing in-between the pew cushion and the back rest on the first pew bench, sitting back down while corralling his children with love.

Fawn scooted ahead, stopped, and sat down in the middle of the pew cushion. Her slightly tilted matching mint green tinted hat at the left side on her face over blocked the view of Buck and his family. This particular church allowed all females to wear a pretty hat. Fawn enjoyed the option and selected a cute hat for the morning's church service. She turned and smiled at the array of colorful hats on each young, mature, and elderly female, returning back to view the church choir, seeing Ace. Ace had been singing in the church choir, since a little boy, and enjoyed that part of the church service, instead of sitting in the auditorium pews. She turned and viewed the rest of the pew bench, seeing the elderly couple, wearing a smile.

At few feet away from Fawn, Grandfather Smith and his newly married wife Magritte Granley Smith sat together, cuddling like a pair of newlyweds.

Magritte displayed average height and slightly overweight at 66 years of age, for an southern lady, presenting a set of black colored painted square-shaped fingernails, wearing a head of shoulder lengthy bottled colored golden blonde hue over her naturally gray colored hair, a pair of green tinted irises, and a tone of glowing pale, wrinkly skin that had not seen one sunbeam of bright, heated solar rays here in sunny beach port of Mobile, Alabama. She wore a sleeveless, black tinted ankle-length summer dress, a matching pair of low-heeled sandals, a pair of black painted toenails, a set of golden tinted nuggets on her naked neckline, a pair of matching stud earrings, a matching wrist bone bracelet, and a golden dinner ring on her right hand. On her left hand, ring finger, a four-carat diamond engagement ring and a sparkling band of diamonds on a wedding band glittered underneath the dull overhead lamps.

Magritte was an American native from the city of Mobile. However, she enjoyed boasting about her ancient blood kin relatives, who were the first settlers of Mobile.

In the early 1700s, the French army marched down from the country of Canada and stopped at the Gulf of Mexico warm water, founding _Fort Louis de la Mobile_ on the present day Alabama River in the present day city of Mobile. Naturally, the army of French soldiers wanted to seek a wife living in the New World and some of the soldiers married into the local Native American Indian tribes. The other soldiers waited for the shipment of young virgin females.

During the summertime, in the year 1703, the bishop from the local France church decided to screen and then provide a small group of twenty nice young females, who possessed virtue and piety and accustomed to labor and diligence, for the army of French soldiers that were stationed in the New World, specifically at the French colony and fort named Fort Louis de la Mobile.

Marguerite Pamelia Savaray had been a fifteen year old female, who was a lady-in-waiting for Maria Antoinette, Queen of France, and the great-great grandmother of Magritte.

Marguerite had been birthed, in the year 1684, within the French parish of Saint-Denis, where her grandfather was a merchant. At the age of 20 years old, she had boarded a sea ship which was named the _Pelican_ and then sailed to the New World, docking at the new French colony of Mobile, in the year 1704, becoming one of the original 23 "Pelican Girls." The nickname had been assigned to the set of young, 23 females that debarked that day from the sea ship named Pelican.

The French colony, _Fort Louis de la Mobile_ had thrived with French colonists, until a nasty invasion force coming from the country of Great Britain, in the year 1763, captured the fort, dominating the territory for decades, until the American Revolution of American colonists, rebels, and leaders ended their British reign, sending the Red Coats back to the country of England.

USA! USA! USA!

Magritte wore an oversized hat covering her bleached golden tinted hair roots, shifting her pair of eyeballs, without seeing Fawn. She reached over and brushed her naked hand over the collar bone on the business suit on her husband elderly Attila Smith.

Samuel Attila Smith was former Rear Admiral in the US Coast Guard military service. Grandfather to Ace and great-grandfather to Gem, Attila was 67 years of age and widowed for years and also very lonely. He had met and then decided to marry widowed Magritte Pamelia Savaray Granley, a few weeks ago. Attila displayed a head of thick, cropped, white tinted hair, a tone of dark skin, a pair of blue eyes, without a pair of eyeglasses, wearing a yellow tinted linen business suit with a white tinted tee shirt and a pair of dark blue shoes, staring at the preacher, hearing the church sermon. He wiggled both of his collar bones in annoyance at her wifely touch.

Magritte removed her naked hand and exhaled with worry, dropping her hand, patting down his leg pant. He wiggled his leg, when she removed her naked hand again and then Attila shuffled a few inches over the padded cushion from her heated body.

Magritte exhaled with worry and wiggled side to side in frustration, wringing both of her hands in annoyance. Then she stopped the hand motion and placed her index finger nail on her right hand between the skin space of the other index finger and the thumb on the left hand, piecing her sharp, square-shaped nail down into the tender hand skin and quickly lifted the nail into the air, repeating the mutation. She darted her two eyeballs at the front of the auditorium room, without listening to the preacher's words.

On the same church pew, Fawn gasped in shock and watched the self-mutation maneuver by Magritte on the left hand, mentally thinking within her mental mind.

what! why is magritte mutating her hand? she feels worried, concerned, nervous. why is she worried? she is married to a nice southern gentleman. she is not calm or cool or collected. i wonder what is wrong with her.

On the same second church pew, current Coast Guard employee and friend of Ace, short, brown-haired, dark-skinned, brown-eyed Slick sat on the opposite side alone and continued to scan each member of the congregation for a troublemaker or any sign of trouble, wearing a white tinted linen business suit without a necktie and a pair of black tinted loafers without socks. No other church people selected the second pew cushion as each person was too close to the preacher and too far from the entrance doorway.

The first church pew bench seat was reserved for a row of individuals that participated in the worship service, this morning, by reading a section of Holy Scripture from the Holy Bible or making a new announcement to the church people.

On the side wall, slightly behind the preacher cubby, a single piano and an organ stood together against the solid wall, where the church pianist sat and then played each musical song during the worship hour.

The preacher shouted out loud with a smile to the rows of settled church people. "Thank you for coming to the morning service at Mobile Church! Let's us pray to Almighty God and his son Christ Jesus, the Holy Spirit and all of our heavenly for thanks and gratitude, this morning." The musical notes stopped playing and the church choir stopped singing, sitting down in their individual choir chair. Each person dropped a chin down into their chest, silently praying with the preacher. The preacher ended and turned with a smile staring at the choir director.

The choir director hit the baton on the musical stand, tapping out the musical rhythm. Each choir member sucked in a big gulp of air for the new musical notes. The church pianist started playing the first stanza of the familiar musical church tune. Then, the choir members and the entire congregation sung in harmony and unison.

On the second pew, Fawn stared with a smile at Ace and mouthed the familiar gospel song that she had heard numerous times as a young small child at her church there in the city of Huntsville. She was not deaf, only mute.

Buck and his wife sort of sung some of the words while wrestling with their three sons. Slick tapped his foot on the floor and mumbled the familiar words, still watching the active crowd of church _people_.

After finishing the first musical song, the choir members continued to stand and sung a second musical song alone, without the congregation. Fawn sat down and stared with a smile at Ace. Ace stood on the last row with the rest of the bass males singers, belting out all of the musical notes, looking at Fawn and then darted his two eyeballs around the massive auditorium pews and then the upper balcony seats. The auditorium space was filled this morning with happy church people and active children.

The second musical song ended. The choir members sat down. The preacher excused all of the little children and any set of volunteer parents from the worship service for the playroom, where God watched over the children. Then, he started the preaching service.

Buck and his wife, three sons quickly left the second pew bench seat and disappeared from the auditorium, heading towards the playroom. Fawn and Slick occupied the second row. She stared at Ace, who was fiddling with the notebook of musical song sheets, then straightening his robe, combing his hair, leaning down towards the floor, and messed with his dress shoes. He sat back and then leaned over, whispering into the cheekbone on the other bass singer, without listening to the preacher's words.

On the second pew row, Fawn continued to stare at Ace and exhaled with boredom. She didn't really like attending the church service, listening to someone's else interruption of the Holy Bible. She could read and comprehend literature also.

i am so jealous of ace. he sings in the church choir. he looks so cute and handsome in his choir robes. i wish i could talk. i wish i could sing too. why was i made different or flawed or damaged? i don't understand my situation. i have made a wonderful man, who is about to become my future husband. however, i cannot talk to him or his daughter gem or his friends. i am a healthy girl. i can sing. i think. i can dance too. i wanna be the best girlfriend and the greatest wife to ace. i wanna participate in his world too. why can't i talk? i can eat food and breath air and drink beverages. i can cough and gag and sneeze and clear my throat like a normal person. so, why can't i talk or sing or burp or laugh or giggle or chuckle or make a higher pitched sound. i don't know why.

Fawn gently stomped both of the soles on her high heeled shoes and continued to talk inside her mental mind.

why. why. why. this is not fair. not fair. not fair. not fair. this is not right. this is wrong. this is me. so, do something. do something. do something. what can i do? I can do something. i can go and see a doctor. yes. yes. yes. i can go and see a new doctor. i visited with a medical physician when i was young. the medical physician says that i would not talk but he did not say that i could not talk.

She wiggled side to side on top of the church pew and smiled with her new idea.

yes. yes. yes. i will make an appointment and visit with a new medical physician. that's a great plan.

She whipped out her personal mobile telephone and tapped on the screen, activating the devise, tapping on the tiny keyboard and looked up the different types of medical physicians, learning about the medical field, reading in silent. A medical psychologist studies normal and abnormal mental states, perceptual, cognitive, emotional, and social processes and behavior that relates to trauma, addiction, eating and sleep disorders, sexual dysfunction, depression, anxiety and phobias. A medical psychologist administers and interprets psychological tests for both child and adults.

no. this is not the medical physician that i seek. i feel depressed and anxious but i do not have an issue with eating or sleep patterns.

On the phone screen the information displayed and as she read in silence. A medical cardiologist treats diseases of the heart and blood vessels. A medical ophthalmologist treats eye and vision care. A medical orthopedist specializes in the prevention, diagnosis, and treatment of disorders of the bones, joints, ligaments, tendons, and muscles.

i am getting closer, but not there yet!

On the phone screen the information displayed and as she read in silence. A medical otolaryngologist treats breathing problems, nosebleeds, allergic reactions, tongue cancers, and sore throats.

what! no, i do not have a sore throat and do not have cancer. no, i do not need to see an otolaryngologist. i wonder, if ace would help me.

She looked up and smiled in the direction of Ace. He was busy snacking a piece of chewing gum and annoying the two choir buddies on each side of his body, without listening to the preacher's lecture, also. Once the preacher finished his church sermon, the choir sung the last song of the morning. Then she frowned with annoyance. Fawn had asked Ace for help before she had run away. He was very nice. They had visited one of his friends, a licensed medical physician. The medical physician had announced that there was not a cure or a surgery for the medical condition on Fawn. She really didn't believe those words but had to accept her rotten fate or destiny or whatever.

Now, she desired to visit with a different medical physician, who specialized in the lack of sound coming from her throat. Fawn exhaled with annoyance and would traverse ahead on her own time. She had a nice card credit from Ace that provided any type of monies for her welfare, which included her health, too. Anyways, Ace would not object and probably would not investigate either.

She looked down and continued to tap on the tiny screen reading more of the medical information.

The preacher shouted out loud. "Amen! Now, let us pray!"

Fawn exhaled with annoyance and lowered her chin down into her chest, without praying and without viewing her mobile telephone. She reached over and placed her phone back down into her tiny purse. She would have to review the other medical professions at home.

The preacher shouted out loud. "Amen!" Then he looked up and pointed to the choir. The choir members stood upright and started signing the last song of the church service.

Fawn looked up and stood upright from the church pew cushion, smiling at Ace, waiting for the conclusion of the church service.

At 09:33 am, Fawn drove home and changed her clothes, waiting for Ace. He came home from church, quickly kissed her face, and then pulled back, leaving Fawn and changed his clothes also.

The old house was still freshly painted in bright yellow hue on each cider block and still shaped in a traditional southern colonial structure that had been built during the 1820s. The former owner had included a grand staircase on the side wall that led up towards the second level floor of bedrooms and a pair of double parlor rooms on the same wall of the first floor, in which, Ace couldn't figure out what to do in there. So, each parlor room was an empty space, but clean of furniture pieces.

His big place had been built by one of the numerous cotton benefactors that had inhabited and then lead the numerous society families within the beach town of Mobile, Alabama on the Gulf of Mexico.

The rear of the mansion sported, at the turn of the century, a set of long wooden building for the gang of field slaves, brick masons, and building carpenters, who had lived on the property detailing each life as a laborer or a domestic servant of the grand manor.

Now, all the ancient and old structures were used to house recreational equipment and filled plastic containers with useless stuff that Ace didn't want hang around the clean sterile atmosphere inside the interior walls while clogging up his delicate sinuses.

If history of Old Mobile had served his weakened brain cells, the original owner had lost this grand mansion during the Bank Panic of 1837, when his great-great-great grandfather had purchased the empty mansion, all the slave quarters, the weed infected grounds, all the unplowed cotton fields, all the silverware, porcelain dishes, all ancient furniture pieces, each oil paintings and numerous pieces of farm equipment.

Ace had inherited the grand mansion after his biological parents had been brutally murdered while eating their dinner meal, a long time ago. But Ace had sought revenge and implemented his murderous plot on the cold-blooded murderers.

No person will ever find the bits and pieces of torn flesh, guts, and spilled blood proteins from each dead cold-blooded murderer.

The living room had displayed a wide rectangular shaped space. The entrance wall had contained two wooden doors and rows of high glass window panes on each side of the front door. One side wall had presented a dark colored wooden staircase that led upstairs into one of five bedrooms. The front windows had showed off the manicured yard with groves of tall shade trees and scattered pods of planted colorful flowers, and a small courtyard, without a set of patio furniture. There was not an exposed exit door through the living room, but inside the kitchen setting.

Ace did not want any invited guest or any unwanted wanderer lounging in the courtyard during the summer or winter days.

Along the same wall of glass windows that displayed the small courtyard and manicured lawn, a heavy door had wiggled side to side that led into an enclosed kitchen space. You could smell the aroma of cooking or baking food items, when the hired, licensed, and paid cook was working.

On the forward wall, a row of tall glass windows in-between a three set of glass doors had presented the rear yard with a lawn of nicely manicured grass, groves of tall shade trees, and scattered pods of strategically placed colored flowers, making the outdoors inviting but hot throughout the spring, summer, and autumn seasonal times.

The current time is 01:28 pm. The current interior layout of the house displayed a new atmosphere comprising tans, teals, and tiny splashes of rose hue. Ace didn't mind the girly colors inside his house as long as his two girls were happy. While living in the house with newly married Granddaddy Smith and his new wife, Magritte Smith, during the four-month renovation project, Fawn and Gem had selected and decorated the interior colors in the living room and kitchen setting.

The side staircase, the second story balcony, and two long walls in-between the living room space, kitchen setting, and Ace's man cave had been destroyed and replaced with one long, wide space that exhibited a new kitchen area, a new living room setting, and a new man cave. One end exposed a new kitchen setting with one side wall which contained a double glass entrance door in-between a bay window in the wall corner. The bay window was designed with a curved eating table for two to four persons. If more people were present, then they would eat on the opposite wall corner with a second bay window eating center. Blonde tinted wood ran through the first floor level into Ace's new man cave. Each space on the new walls displayed tan colored paint.

Continuing inside the kitchen, a few feet down from each bay window eating center, a long kitchen counter block with a granite top of tan, teal, and rose hues displayed a row of upper or lower sitting tan-colored wooden cabinets that held all of the dishes or it surrounded one matching tan colored standard kitchen appliances, which was used in the kitchen format for cooking or baking.

Yes, there does exist tan colored kitchen appliances.

However, Ace did not cook or bake and neither did Fawn or Gem. But the kitchen looked really cool and elegant.

A few feet from the edge of the tan, teal, rose granite countertop, a kitchen island stood alone and lonely with six high stool chairs for sitting, eating, chatting, socializing with a long glass vase of short row of yellow, blue, red, pink, orange carnations. Gem loved the carnation flowers and Ace loved his daughter.

Even with the kitchen island for sitting, eating, and chatting, a row of undivided low-lying glass windows on each long wall exposes the nicely manicured front lawn and also the rear lawn that held an array of short trees, pods of colorful flower plants, and rows of bushes.

At the end of the long single room, a grand staircase stood in the middle of the wall and decorated with a light-colored wooden step and a matching banisher rail leading up onto the second floor level.

The second floor level had been redesigned, only redecorated with the girly touch from Fawn and Gem. Ace didn't mind as long as his two girls were happy.

In the middle of the single living room space, three living room settings in the colors of teal, an, and rose had been strategically arranged around a pair of moving legs without stumping a naked toe bone during the midnight run of snacks. The individual pieces of furniture faced the entrance wall of windows and viewed the front lawn. Or the furniture pieces viewed the rear lawn of flowers, trees, and miles of grass.

The back lawn used to contain ancient and old buildings from the pre-civil war era. The hired and smart contractors that worked on the interior of the house offered to torn down all of the large and tiny ancient structures and then carry off all the ruined pieces for a low monetary fee. Ace obligated and removed the eyesore from his two eyeballs.

Behind the grand staircase, a semi-dark room without a glass window, with a small wet bar counter, was still named as the man cave and contained all of the manly electronics that any guy could wish for, remaining cold and silence, within a house of two females. If Ace desired a small time with his set of lonely, manly thoughts, he could enter into his man cave, pressing the remote control devise, blasting the loudest television volume throughout the first floor level which always annoyed his two girls.

In-between the two walls of soft tan colored painted that did not contain a single family portrait or piece of art work, but more glass windows, Ace slowly moved down each wooden step, stopped with a smile, and stood with a shotgun over his left collar bone on top of the floor, staring at his fiancé Fawn.

Fawn displayed a tall, wiry body frame, a head of thin, waistline long light brown colored straight hair, a pair of light brown irises that glowed in yellow hue, like a pair of deer's eyeballs, during a nighttime drive. Her smooth skin exhibited a delicate creamy hue of vanilla tone, not white or tan.

Her facial skin tone displayed a row of tiny brown tinted freckles running across her nose bridge and then scattered around her two cheekbones, without dominating her face, highlighting a youthful appearance.

Fawn exposed her neckline and two collar bones inside the off-the-shoulder, ankle-length, hoop skirt antebellum dress in rich blood red hue with three rows of ruffles, where the rear hemline was puddling down over the wooden floor behind her back spine and stared down at his polished pair of cowboy boots.

Ace always displayed either a casual or a dressy clothing style in his pair of nicely polished python snake skin cowboy boots. The reptile leather was wrapped around the foot in scaly presentation and feels like touching a real snake.

A snake is a reptile with a set of dry scaly skin epidermis which is strong like a human fingernail or a horse's hoof. The set of scales are watertight which keeps the snake moist, without drying out in the heated desert or weather. Touching a snake feels warm and dry.

Her mind echoed the dangerous traits of a slithering snake and as her emotions felt jumbled and worried and as her two eyeballs darted upwards and stared Ace. He was dressed in brown, tan, and green camouflage body vest, a pair of matching trousers, a white tinted tee shirt.

The word, camouflage, represents a combination of materials, colors, or illumination for concealment that makes an animal or a hunter or a soldier or an object hard to see which disguises the object as something else. Examples include the spotted coat of a leopard; the battle gear for a modern soldier, and a pair of leaf-patterned wings on a katydid insect.

Ace reached out and grabbed one of her lean girly biceps, smiling down into her silly hat. "Look! When this thing is done and you and I are married, we will go and travel throughout the world Are you interested in visiting Egypt seeing the three pyramids."

She talked into his mind.

i do not want to attend this thing.

He laughed. "This thing is called a bridal shower, sweetheart. These people are coming here to honor the bride."

i am not interested in being honored. where is your southern civil war silly costume?

He smiled. "I am going to leave and go hunting."

i wanna come with you.

"No."

yes, i wanna leave and go hunting.

"You don't like to hunt down little tiny animals and then slaughter them in blood.

today, i would.

Ace exhaled. "Fawn! Today is our day as the bride. And today is my day as the non-bride."

ace!

He frowned. "You can't leave. Everyone is expecting the bride to be here in your pretty southern dress."

i feel silly.

He smiled, "You look beautiful, once I find your face through this weird hat. Anyways, this is a bride or bridal or bridle, like a horse mask for a mare or a married girl, not me," he softly chuckled at his silly word choice.

ace!

He nodded. "You must stay here and make certain none of our expensive gifts from the long list of unfriendly neighbors and strangers do not become stolen by my new step-grandmother. I don't like that pickle, fickle woman. I got a bad feeling about that pickle, fickle woman too. I don't know why my grandfather married her, but I can ask on the hunting trip. He likes to talk man-to-man while hunting down and killing something in cold blood," he chuckled and then sneered. "I can't explain my emotions or remove that wiggling worm from my gut..."

"Daddy!" Gem slowly climbed down the new center staircase in her own lovely antebellum dress, hat, and finger-less gloves and then hit the ground floor while typing out a new text message on her personal mobile telephone to each one of her high school friends.

Ace released Fawn and spun around, standing next to his fiancé, frowning at his daughter. "Ugh! What are you wearing?"

Gem stopped and stood in front of her father and future step-mother, slapping the hoop skirt in blocks of dark purple and black hue with one hand, holding her telephone, "A dress."

"That is the ugliest dress in the world. Who forced you to wear that thing? Well, I guess I can always seek a painful revenge or maybe a huge ransom payment," he laughed alone.

"My new Grandmother Smith, she assigned the dress code for all of the young ladies and teens."

He laughed. "Well, all I can add here, your new Grandmother Smith has ..." Both of the entrance doors in solid glass opened at the same time and allowed inside a stream of heated air molecules into the living room space, revealing a short and squat elderly female. He did not spin around to see the new guest but frowned in disgust at his daughter. "... arrived." Gem and Fawn laughed out loud at his unspoken nasty comment. Fawn spun around and stood in place with a fake smile, staring at truly the ugliest dress in the world.

Magritte possessed average height but a plump body from her elderly age at 66 years old, wearing an off-the-shoulder antebellum gown in funeral black hue with a column of dull-tinted golden painted flying butterflies traveling down on side of her fluffy dress, a wrist bone pair of golden-tinted finger-less gloves, a pair of golden-tinted low sandals, and glittering set of golden nuggets around her naked, wrinkled throat, both of her sagging earlobes, each one of her wrinkled wrist bones, and four of her wrinkled finger bones, excluding her five-carat diamond engagement ring and her golden tinted wedding band of solid diamonds. Her shoulder length bleached golden-blondish tinted hair was curled into a tight bun on top of her bone skull, where the exposed leap of bun hair strands was surrounded by a black tinted floppy antebellum hat that covered her two haunted eye sockets, without seeing Ace, but hearing his nasty comment.

Ace spun around and smiled at his new step-grandmother with great disgust and displeasure, wondering about his grandfather's taste in the male species. But his grandfather was old and lonely and wealthy. Magritte was old and desperate and wealthy. So, the elderly couple matched their weaknesses and then became married.

Gem spun around and smiled at her great step-grandmother. "Magritte."

Magritte slowly entered the room and tossed both of her gloves in the air near her jaw line, smiling at the Smith family members. "I am here. I have arrived. Everything is fine and dandy now. Where are all of the other guests for your bridal shower, dearie?"

Gem frowned. "Uh! The guests are coming for another thirty minutes."

She nodded with a smile and scanned an empty room, "Nonsense! A southern belle is always early, not late."

Ace leaned over and kissed his future bride, pulling back with a frown, nodding with a smile. He spun around and moved ahead with Fawn, passing Magritte, sneering with his manly timber. "Bye, Gritty!"

Magritte gasped in shock at the rude man and turned with a fake smile, staring at the nose profile on Ace, "I beg your pardon."

Gem swayed back and forth in her ugly dress and faked a smile at her new great step-grandmother. "My daddy meant to say, greetings. He mixes up his words early in the morning..."

"The time is early afternoon." She frowned.

"Time for me to go, before the sun rises, again!" Ace laughed out loud and parted from Fawn, slowly moving ahead through the open archway, nodding to some of the other arriving guests that wore an ugly antebellum dress, also, without closing the glass door. He slowly shuffled ahead with a smile and his brilliant escape plan towards his personal vehicle on the city street for a relaxing day while killing life forces.

Fourteen hours later, nighttime, bright stars with moon rays, at 11:35 pm, in the bedroom setting, Fawn could not fall down into a sound slumber and as her mind clicked with new possibilities regarding her medical condition.

get up! do something!

She tumbled from the bed mattress without making too much noise and moved out from the bedroom setting, down the staircase, and stumbling ahead in the semi-dark room that beams down tons of moonlight rays and then landed down on top of the teal colored sofas. She whipped out her personal telephone and typed on the tiny keyboard, silently reading the new electronic information. An internist physician specializes in the diagnosis and medical treatment of adults including allergy and immunology, cardiology of the heart, endocrinology of hormone disorders, hematology of blood disorders, infectious diseases, gastroenterology with diseases of the guts, nephrology of kidney diseases, oncology cancer, pulmonology with lung disorders, and rheumatology of arthritis and musculoskeletal disorders.

**wow! an internist doctor studies different parts of the human body. i only need someone that studies the throat muscles. i do possess allergies or heart issues or hormone problems. i do not have trouble with my stomach or my kidneys or my lungs. and i do not possess arthritis or cancer cells. so, maybe, i do not need to see an internist physician**.

She started typing and found more electronic information, reading silently. A family practitioner is devoted to comprehensive health care for people of all ages, genders, diseases, and parts of the body, emphasizing disease prevention and health promotion.

yes. yes. yes. i need help with health promotion. i guess so. so, i need to go and visit a family practitioner. wait! what is the difference in an internist physician and a family practitioner?

She started typing on the keyboard and then stopped, silently reading the new digital information.

An internist physician only sees a patient from the age of eighteen years old through the geriatric years screening and then treating common adult problems, such like diabetes and hypertension. A family practitioner cares for a patient from birth until death focusing on wellness diseases for pediatrics, adult medicine, obstetrics, and gynecology, mental health and other clinical and chronic issues.

yes. yes. yes. i want to see and visit a family practitioner. i need to set an appointment tomorrow morning.

Fawn smiled in silence and started typing on the keyboard, finding a list of family practitioner, swiftly typing out a new text message to each digital physician's office for an appointment anytime tomorrow to discuss her clinical problem and heal her throat for speech. Then she would become a normal girl, a normal wife, and a normal person. She finished her task with a nod and stood upright, slowly climbing the new staircase, returning back to the bed mattress for slumber.

Monday, July 1st

07:54 am

Heated day with hot air temperatures and bright sunlight

House location of Ace

Front porch setting

After a shared breakfast meal with Fawn, Ace slowly moved ahead with her girl from the kitchen setting towards the front porch at his residential house, holding his worn brown tinted old briefcase with one hand and the folded Coast Guard jacket over the same arm. He would don his US Coast Guard uniform two more times, before the Fourth of July, America's birthday.

Ace had offered his work resignation from the US Coast Guard military base with a happy heart and an active mind. He loved his military judgeship and his new bride desiring to please his future wife, ending his military career. Ace was almost a billionaire or pretty close to the billion dollar mark inside his bank trust fund and did not need a working job but desired a happy married life with his girl Fawn.

They planned to travel and see the world while his daughter Gem started back in the eleventh grade at her private academic prep school, completing her education. Gem didn't mind either. She enjoyed her high school friends and her new automobile. Anyways, the Resources hired by Ace watched over his daughter and his future wife.

Ace could have retired from the military last week, but this particular work week was the holiday celebration of the United States of America as one of the youngest governments in the world that was over 240 years of age. The military court room was not closed but busier than hell with a set of new demons, so Ace offered to work as the lonely, angry military judge during the holiday week. By Wednesday afternoon, the court room would clear out with each guilty, convicted prisoner, since Ace did not receive an innocent person inside his court room. Then he would close his office door for the last time, maybe he would leave the office door open, returning back home a free man and an unemployed slacker, retiring from the US Coast Guard service.

Their wedding ceremony was scheduled on the thirteenth day of July, Saturday morning. No one wanted their wedding date as the thirteenth date in the month, which was an unlucky number. Ace didn't care. He had to wait that long period of proper time, until each one of the proper bridal lunches and showers and tea parties were all done and gone.

They stopped in front of the glass door and leaned over, kissing her lips for a few second. His eyeball caught the motion through the transparent entrance door. Ace pulled back and laughed out loud, leaning over, opening the door. "Hey, Gritty!"

Magritte stood in place and folded her smile down into a straight line of annoyance. She greatly disliked that tacky nickname and had repeated whined about the childish insult to her new husband, Attila Smith, about the delicate and sensitive matter. Her husband and Ace's grandfather laughed off the funny subject, without action. She wore an ankle-length black tinted, short-sleeved, linen dress and a pair of golden low-heeled sandals, decorating her body in the same set of golden tinted nuggets around her naked, wrinkled throat, her two sagging earlobes, her two wrinkled wrist bones, and four of her wrinkled finger bones, excluding her five-carat diamond engagement ring and her golden tinted wedding band of solid diamonds.

He loudly mumbled at his new step-grandmother for his eardrums only. "Black again!"

fawn continued to stand and turned to face the nose profile on Ace, speaking into his mind.

what is wrong here, ace?

Magritte sneered at Ace. "I beg your pardon!"

Ace laughed and huddled Fawn, winking at Magritte. "Back again!"

Fawn continued to touch his arm and faked a smile at Magritte, speaking into his mind.

ace!

Magritte faked a smile to her rude and ill-bred, handsome step-grandson. "I am here present coordinating the next bridal shower, working with all of the decorators for the upcoming social event on Saturday afternoon. We all must work quickly to achieve and set up the pirate decorations, before Friday night."

Ace frowned. "Pirates! Are you really inviting pirates into our home?"

"The theme of the bridal tea party is a pirate showcase. Everyone, including you, must be presented as a pirate with their loot for the princess pirate."

"Hmm! I hear and I see. So, I'll be wearing my favorite pair of black jeans with my black cowboy boots, a black tinted tee shirt, and a black mask with a real sword. However, that silly party seems like a weird bridal theme for a happy occasion."

"Nonsense! The city of Mobile was built with pirate blood, sweat, and tears. Who do think fight against the invading forces coming from the Native American Indians, the vicious troops from the foreign countries of France, Spain, and Britain?"

"Let me think! The Americans." He laughed out loud.

Magritte exhaled with annoyance, slowly moved ahead into the spacious living room setting and scooted around the young couple, heading towards the kitchen area for a cold beverage.

Ace exhaled with annoyance and leaned over, trying to kiss his girl, when a pair of women entered the open archway, walking in-between the couple. Ace jerked back and sneered, turning his frown into a smile at the two familiar faces. "Hey! I see Tabby and Gabby. Where is Abby?" He laughed at his personal joke. Fawn stared at Ace with mystery. She recognized the two females from his church choir. Ace smiled. "O well! I gotta go. Have fun, today!" He moved ahead and reached over, dragging Fawn with him towards the open archway, slamming into his grandfather. "Hey, Grandfather! Good timing! I gotta go to work and you are in charge of Fawn. Protect her from the enemy, if you know wanna I mean," he winked with a chuckle.

Grandfather Smith softly chuckled with a nod and reached out, grabbing the other arm on Fawn, cuddling her into his chest. "Aye! Aye, Commander! Go and toss all of those criminals back into the crowded, busy city streets of Mobile, where they can do some real death and damage!"

Ace nodded with a smile. "Yes, sir! I'll have fun and be done by suppertime." He leaned over and quickly kissed Fawn, pulling back with a smile, swiftly moving ahead through the crowd of new visitors flowing nicely into the Smith house. He was happy to leave the busy place for a quiet court room setting today.

From the open archway, Grandfather Smith slowly strolled ahead with Fawn, ignoring the loud commotion from the group of invited visitors, opening the rear door. Fawn led from the interior house onto the patio floor, sitting down on one of the patio chairs.

Attila sat in the other chair admiring the newly planted plot of colorful flowers inside the manicured year, saying to Fawn. "Don't fret, Fawn! All of this will end very soon. Then, the house will become quiet. Gem likes driving her new sport car and all of her old friends, buzzing around town, staying out of your hair rollers. She is now attending the eleventh grade. Next year, she will become a senior student and appear more absent with plans of attending college and partying with her old and new high school friends. And what will you and Ace do with an empty house?" He turned and winked at Fawn.

She turned and smiled at Attila. She liked his warmth and humor, like his grandson.

The rear door burst open and revealed a tall, slender male, tossing both of his hands in the air, moving ahead towards Fawn. "There she is, the bride and the party girl! I need you to stand, so I can measure the silk fabric over your slender body, honey."

Fawn slowly stood upright from the cushion with a smile. The clothes tailor quickly wrapped a bolt of red and black satin fabric around her upright body, pinning and measuring the correct measurements. He stood upright from the patio floor and back stepped, nodding with a smile. "There! I'll all done! You must come by my designer studio on Tuesday afternoon for the finally fitting, pirate princess." Fawn nodded with a smile in silence. The male designer handed the both of fabric back to his female assistant and then grabbed a new bolt of thicker red and black fabric, spinning around, staring down at the thick hair roots on Attila. "I need to..."

"I carry concealed." Grandfather continued to smile at Fawn.

The male designer gasped in alarm and slowly back stepped from Attila, holding the bolt of fabric, colliding into his row of female assistants. "All right! You are set for the pirate party, pirate king. Let's go, folks! We are finished here." He spun around to face the wall of glass doors, leaving the patio area, exiting the house for his work.

On top of the patio area, Attila chuckled with Fawn, when the glass opened and revealed Magritte. She entered the patio and stopped beside Attila. "Did you get measured for your..."

"... funeral attire. Why do you always dress like you are attending a wake, Magritte?" Attila wore a sour frown and surveyed her dress in dark colors.

She laughed. "At least, I'm not part of a wake. Did you get...?"

"Yes. Yes. Yes." He flipped his hand in annoyance at the busybody wife. "We have been properly measured and primed for any event. Go away, woman! I'm chatting with my new granddaughter."

Magritte gasped in shock. "But..."

He frowned. "But, what! Get moving, honey! We're busier than bumblebees out here, pollinating the flower beds," Attila laughed and as Fawn smiled. She liked his aggressive personality towards the group of bossy southern belles.

A young female waiter, with a head of long black hair and a short tan colored mini-dress and a pair of tan colored sneakers, scooted around Magritte and then stopped, leaning down, offering a tray of slender glasses with light brown colored sweet tea and a single lemon slice. Attila nodded with a smile and accepted two tumblers, offering one to Fawn. "Thank you, kindly!" The waitress shuffled off the patio floor leaving the threesome.

Magritte grunted with annoyance and turned staring down at the light brown hair roots on Fawn. "Fawn, I do not know how you communicate with Ace."

Attila laughed. "Very effectively!"

She grunted with annoyance again. "But, please, tell Ace that he must come in a proper costume as a pirate captain. Else..."

"You should not angry Mother Nature or my grandson Samuel Attila Smith, the third. He does not take kindly to verbal, written, or electronic bodily threats, my dear. You need to remember that, Magritte. Now, run along and boss the other guests around the place. Fawn and I are in the middle of a lovely conversation." He chuckled and as Fawn smiled. Magritte grunted her dissatisfaction again and spun around, leaving the patio surface and the humid morning air molecules. He slowly sipped the sweet tea and pursed his lips from the sugary beverage, "Ah! Just perfect! Life in the South is just perfect! What did you say, Fawn?"

Again, one of the rear patio doors slid open and revealed a tall, muscular male, holding a tray of food items, invading the cool shade on the patio surface and stopped beside Attila. He leaned over and offered the tray of food, wearing a white tinted tee shirt and a pair of tan colored walking shorts, and a pair of tan colored flip-flops.

Attila looked up with a smile and then frowned at the young male. "Are you one of the hired helpers, sonny?"

The male smiled down at the elderly gentleman still holding the tray of food items. "Yes, sir!"

Attila frowned. "Well, you look like a hired gun. I hope you are working your ass through college courses or some other type of technical school for a real paying job, beside a sissy waiter at the local restaurant."

The male continued to smile and held the tray of delicious food items. "No, sir!"

Attila huffed. "Well, you need to join one of the USA military branches and get yourself worldly educated and take care of your ass, sonny. No one is going to do it for you."

The male softly chuckled. "I am afraid of guns, sir."

"Figures! The youth are afraid of their own shadow and don't carry concealed. What is happening to the world?" Attila flipped his hand with a sour frown dismissing the waiter with annoyance. The waiter produced an empty platter and gently lowered the dish down onto the wooden table, slowly placing an assortment of food items on the ceramic for the elderly gentleman and the pretty girl, arranging each piece with care. He slowly stood upright with a smile and nodded to Fawn and then Attila. "You have a very nice day, sir and miss. If you need anything else, I am inside the house working in the kitchen. Please let me know. I would be very happy to accommodate your wishes. Thank you very much!" He spun around with a smile and entered back into the house, humming a merry musical tone, working his paid job.

Attila exhaled with annoyance and reached out, picking up one of the food items from the platter, shaking his bone skull. "The young people are missing the boat, the bus, and the band, standing in the flood of incompetence and indecision. I am older, wiser, but I cannot any longer defend their ass against the hidden enemy. I shore hope you and Ace raise your children with tons of respect, honor, and guts, Fawn."

Fawn gasped in alarm and then smiled at the bold statement from an older man, who lived in a different time and different generation. She had not thought about a baby with Ace. Gem was the only daughter and two of the only living relatives for Ace. He worshipped his grandfather and protected his daughter. Fawn didn't know if Ace cared about having a second child as Gem was going off to enjoy the college scene a few months from now.

Ace was retiring from the USA military Coast Guard and wanted to travel the world, without towing along a newborn baby or a newborn puppy or an annoying teenage daughter.

Fawn would have to inquire with Ace about a second child, after they scheduled wedding ceremony next weekend. However, she could not speak with words with a young child or coo for fun at a newborn baby, like a new mother. She exhaled with disappointment that her life was filled with fun and Ace, but that might be all of her life for the future. If she happened to produce a child, then she would have to hire a nanny for communication. Fawn turned and stared at the nicely manicured lawn, desiring to speak, talking to her own child with her own words and smiles and laughter.

At 08:33 am, her mobile telephone softly chimed with a familiar rock and roll musical song. She whipped out the phone and stared down at the new text message, offering a new appointment with one of the family practitioners. She needed to see the medical physician and attend that scheduled appointment, working on a medical cure with her non-working vocal cords. Fawn typed back on the keyboard her response and then looked up, staring at Attila.

He didn't need to understand but flipped his hand, nodding with a smile. "If that is Ace, then tell him, I got everything under control. Go on and meet him! I'll stay and make everyone leave before ya'll come back home."

On top of the chair, Fawn nodded with a smile and stood upright from the cushion, holding the phone, leaning over and planted a sweet daughterly kiss on his smooth cheekbone. she stood upright and smiled again, spinning around, dashing through a busy room of worker bees that were transforming the gigantic room into a gigantic pirate ship for the upcoming bridal shower.

Gem was upstairs sleeping inside her bedroom and would not come down into late afternoon.

Ace was a work coming home at suppertime.

Fawn veered towards the kitchen space and left her house through the kitchen door, dashing ahead through the lawn towards her parked car. She had moved her automobile from the garage space and parked on the city street for a fast escape from the house, if the moment arose. She carefully drove to the physician office.

hurray! i am free from Magritte for the rest of the day. hurry! but don't speed! hurray!

At 09:25 am, on the Coast Guard military base, within four walls of dark cherry wood, inside an empty court room, Slick leaned back into the hard chair and sat behind the prosecution table beside Buck, wearing his military uniform without the jacket. Ace leaned back in another hard chair and sat across from his two friends and co-workers, without his suit jacket also. The court room space was empty. The group of convict prisoners were heading to the military prison for years or back out into the busy city streets of Mobile. The table surface contained trays of breakfast entrees and warm beverages during the relaxed morning non-working activities.

Ace was required to stay until the end of the working day, waiting and watching out for another guilty military prisoner, who would be swiftly punished for some reason and then dismissed from the court gallery.

Ace nodded with a stern face and tapped on the warm coffee cup with hot chocolate, not coffee or tea. "Yes, I do believe that leaving my military career is both hard and needed. I love Fawn. We were meant to be together, foreverly." He exhaled with frustration and shook his bone skull. "We have been together through hell and fire and still like each other," he laughed with his two friends.

"That's nice, Ace! I'm really happy for you and Fawn." Buck smiled and then consumed the rest of the warm coffee, gently placing an empty mug on top of the table surface.

"Good show, Boss! I grant both of you a happy marriage, foreverly, too." Slick smiled and fiddled with the cloth napkin.

Ace had known through the proper military channel the unshared information. Both Buck and Slick had resigned from the US Coast Guard military with thirteen years of service, wanting to go their separate ways and start their own adventure without hanging onto the shirt tail of Ace. However, neither one of them had bothered to inform Ace. He was not mad or glad or sad but confused. They had been the threesome together here on the Mobile military base for nine long years, when Ace had become the new judge.

Ace nodded. "Well, I've told you my life story up until now. I'll end my military career on Wednesday afternoon at five pm and then become a married man," he laughed with his two buddies. "Am I making the right move, Buck?"

Slick answered for Buck with a wink to Ace. "Yes, you are."

Ace slapped his chest with a smile, "I am happy, and I am about to become happier. So, what about you and you?"

Buck looked down at the smooth table surface and mumbled out loud. "Well, I'm quitting the Coast Guard."

"Why? Why is that, Buck? I don't understand." Ace frowned at the thick hair roots on Buck.

Buck looked up and nodded with several times to Ace. "I'm just tired of the bullshit within the military service. Do this! No! Do that! Naw! Now, cover over here and do this again!"

Ace nodded. "What are you doing and where are you going?"

Buck nodded with a stern face. "I'm going to start working for the private company. The..."

"I can't stand not seeing you next week here inside the court room, Boss," Slick laughed with Ace.

Ace nodded. "Yeah! Both of you are leaving the military scene. Do you and you wanna really leave the military?"

Slick frowned. "Why are you posing some many numerous nosy questions at us, Ace?"

Ace turned and nodded to Slick. "Why are you quitting the military, Slick? You have seven more years in the Coast Guard and then done and gone with the military life and the start of your military retirement pension."

"Look! This my business, not your business, Ace." Buck frowned.

"How so?" Ace exhaled with annoyance. "I hate to see both of you toss away a nice military career for more money, less glamour, less working hours, seeing more of your family members." He laughed with amusement.

Slick sneered at Ace and stood upright from the hard chair, banging both of his fists down onto the hard table surface, shouting out loud with angry. "You do not own me. You do not know me. You do not control me."

"Me, either, Ace!" Buck slowly stood upright from the hard chair and stared with a stern face at Ace.

Ace wiggled in the chair and shook his bone skull and both palms near his smile. "Sit down! Sit down! I'm joking here. Come on! Can't ya'll take a joke or two?" He scooted the chair from the edge of the table surface and leaned down, grabbing two individual paper bags that a student used for the school lunch meal, lifting both of his palms near his smile. "Please, sit down, gentlemen. I have a gift for each one of you." He turned and stared at each friend. Slick sat down and exhaled with annoyance. Buck followed suit and stared at Ace. Ace exhaled with delight and slowly scooted each paper bag to each friend. "This is a gift for each one of my true friends. Go ahead and open your gift. I wanna see your face of shock and awe."

Buck nodded with a smile and moved to open the folded brown tinted paper bag, revealing a single object, holding it in the air. "O! Thanks, Ace!"

Slick opened his paper bag and revealed a single dollar bill without a paper note or ugly art work, studying the item in silence.

Ace cleared his throat and nodded to his two friends. "That is a single dollar bill. It is meant as a single opportunity, not a single item."

Buck shook his shoulder length blonde tinted hair. "Naw! I have signed a contract with my new employer. I can't back out of the agreement. Something bad could happen. I am sorry, Ace. You have been a great friend and a great supervisor, but I am moving ahead with my new work job."

Slick wiggled the dollar bill and shook his cropped hair with brown hue. "I have a new commitment too. I must reject your opportunity."

Ace nodded several times and wiggled both of his palms near his smile. "I understand your concerns and your new decision. Please, hear my new opportunity. Is that okay? do you agree/"

Each soldier nodded in silence. He said. "I have established a legal private community money foundation for my sister Mary Ann Smith."

Slick nodded with a stern face. "That's great, Ace. A community foundation is also a non-for-profit organization that requires money to operate. I understand the concept of a foundation, but lack the funds needing to run the organization."

Ace nodded with a stern face. "Yes, Slick is correct. The monies into a foundation comes from a family or an individual or a corporation. I am going to be the source of the money funding as I am close to becoming a billionaire. A billion dollar bank account is a massive amount of monies that I can't spend within my lifetime. But I am setting up bank accounts for my daughter Gem and my new bride Fawn. Thus, I am going to place, each annual year, some of my money down into my new foundation charity, not a family company, for profit. However, I need a few individual persons to run the foundation like a president, an accountant, a lawyer, and a few other positions. I am asking to each one of you, if you are interested in running my personal foundation, with a salary and benefits, of course. I must maintain the position of president. Fawn is the vice president, of course. I have hired an accountant to pay all the bills and a lawyer for the legal stuff. I need a couple of officers that wanna go out into the community and give grants to school for all elementary, middle, and high school athletic programs, marching band organizations, and award all types of academic college educational grants for any high school graduating student that wants or needs some assistance in college. I plan not to come into work. The accountant and the lawyer can do all of the paperwork. I was hoping you and you would join and work for my foundation with a starting salary of two million dollars and some awesome benefits for the family members. Just to let you know, Uncle Sam takes half of your salary dollars, so you have to live on one million dollars each year."

Buck smiled with a nod. "Yes!"

Slick turned and frowned at his friend. "Buck, you didn't ask one single question about the new job opportunity."

He smiled. "Yes, I wanna come and work for you, Ace. What do I do? When do I start?"

Slick frowned. "What about your signed contract with your new employer that starts next week?"

Ace smiled and slowly stood upright from the chair, flipping his hand in the air. "Don't worry about it, Buck! I'll get my overpaid, underutilized, but smart-ass lawyer on that legal contract. If you must pay a monetary penalty, the accountant will do from the operating fund. Then you'll be a free man to come and work for me. You and Slick can create your own title and set your own hours and determine how to spend the grant fund account of thirty million dollars each year throughout the community. Now, what is your answer, Slick?"

Slick pocketed the dollar bill for a rainy day and looked up, winking at Buck, smiling at Ace. "Well, I can't leave my buddy with all of that money. I'm in. When do we start, Ace?"

Ace smiled. "When is your last day here at the military base?"

He smiled. "My last day as a member of the US Coast Guard military is Wednesday."

Buck nodded. "Me, too!"

Ace nodded. "Bring back all of your US military gear on Wednesday morning and turn all of the US Federal Government property back into the court house Commander. Then, I'll sign your set of exit papers, that day. Then, you and you go down to South Board Street..."

"...the sleazy part of Mobile..." Buck laughed.

"Ace is spending all of his riches on us, buddy!" Slick laughed.

Ace winked at Buck. "Don't you carry concealed, boy?" He chuckled with Slick. "Anyways, our secured building with an interior parking garage that can be chained up during the day or nighttime activities is directly across from the Alabama Probation and Parole Building. You might find a use for some fun target shooting," he laughed with his two buddies.

Buck frowned. "Do I need to bring anything else for my newest job, Ace?"

"Bring yourself, your social security card, your birth certificate, and your hand gun," he chuckled with his two buddies. "Then you will become employed that day."

"But we're still employed by the US Coast Guard military service, that day, too."

"That's okay! You are an American and you can work two or three jobs as long as you pay all of your USA American federal and state income taxes. Speaking of taxes, the hired, highly paid and really smart CPA accountant will prepare and file your federal and state income taxes each year and she will show you how to hide more of your money from Uncle Sam, like all the other super-mega elite scrum bags do without paying one penny in income taxes, only the hard-working man and woman."

"That seems unfair to avoid paying my share of taxes to support the US military forces and other social programs for the really needy peoples that need food and shelter and heat." Buck frowned.

Ace smiled. "And you will possess thirty million dollars to help all of these needy people survive for another day and night and maybe get some of them a good working job and some independence off the US Federal Government. How does that sound, Buck?"

Slick answered for his friend with the same thoughts and questions. "That sounds like awesome plan for me and Buck. Thanks, Ace! I really appreciate the opportunity to transform some bad guys and gals into good kids."

"You are very welcome. Well, the day looks relaxed and easy. What happened to the criminals?" Ace laughed.

Buck shook his bone skull and winked to Ace. "A person is innocent of the crime, before that individual is proven guilty."

"Where in the hell does that criminal live?" He laughed again.

One of the closed doors slowly swung open and revealed a familiar face. The female entered the room holding a picnic basket in brown weave and waved with a smile at Ace, moving down an empty aisle.

Buck spun around and frowned at the familiar girl. "What is she doing here?"

Slick turned and sneered at the girl also. "Why is she here?"

Ace turned and stared at the girl, flipping his hand in the air, nodding with a grin to the girl. "All right! We don't know the answer to either one of these posed questions. Go ahead and get lost for the day, guys! If one of these criminals moseys across your footpath, then bring him or her to me. I like doing my thing before my supper meal. I will inquire with the girl her purpose and intent. If I need help, I'll type out a text messages," he laughed. "Bye, guys!" Buck and Slick scooted from the table and slipped out the side door into an empty hallway whispering to each other while pondering the appearance of that girl.

The female stopped and stood behind the short gate, smiling at Ace. "Ace, I'll so glad that you're still here at the base. I was wondering if you had taken some time off for the upcoming holiday week. But I can see that you're still here and not working, at the moment. Did you have lunch? I happen to hold a basket of fried chicken and warm buttered biscuits." She slapped the gate open with a giggle and shuffled ahead, scooting in front of the table, placing the basket on top of the hard surface. She started unpacking each item and presented to Ace.

Ace continued to sit in the hard chair and wore a stern face, staring at the female, who had attended and graduated from the same prep school. "Well, this is not nice to see you here at the military base. I saw Tabby and Gabby at my home, before I left for my work day. They were busy assisting Gritty with the wall decorations transforming the wall into a pirate ship. Why are you not there? What are you doing here, Abby?"

She continued to arrange the food items in front of Ace and said with a smile. "You're so entertaining, Ace. Using that trio of silly names for me and my two sisters. You're such a flirt. I always enjoyed your silly boyish banter. Please use both of your naked hands for anything on the menu," she winked to Ace.

He continued to sit without touching one of the food dishes, viewing her blonde tinted hair roots, "What are you doing here, Abby?"

She smiled. "My uncle works here. Don't you remember, Ace?"

"O yeah!"

At 09:55 am, Fawn raced around the city streets and finally located the physician office building, a ten-story, white-tinted brick-coated structure, and then she parked inside the open lot, exiting her car. She entered the building and used the elevator, stepping off the carriage, walking through a set of nice glass doors surrounded in light colored, polished wood with pale yellow walls on each side for a nice setting.

The reception area was roomy and wide with a burning candle of vanilla spice fumes spreading around the room, making the space smell nice. The room was decorated in hues of candy pink sky blue and pale yellow throughout the walls and individual living room furniture pieces while running with a seashell theme.

Fawn lived in South Alabama, within the seaport and sandy beach city of Mobile, which was the door stop for the Mobile River and the back door into the Gulf of Mexico warm ocean waters. Of course, each interior wall, at every business presented a sandy beach and ocean water scene. The physician office suite was not the exception.

The room currently contained three patients waiting for the physician visit also. Fawn slowly moved ahead, stopped, and slammed a sheet of white paper against the glass window.

Behind the glass window, the receptionist looked up and gasped in shock at the piece of paper, slowly reading out loud. "Uh! I am Fawn. I am mute. I have an appointment at ten o'clock." Fawn lowered the paper and then slid her insurance card and driver's license to the girl. The receptionist confirmed the appointment and asked Fawn. "Uh! Yes, I see your appointment. Please, fill out the paperwork and return the clip board back to me. Then the physician can see you in a few more minutes." Fawn accepted the clip board and spun around, moving ahead towards a wall of mixed pink, blue, and yellow sitting chairs, swinging around and sat down. She whipped out all of her tiny documents and filled out the form by hand, exhaling with hope, standing upright with a smile and advanced towards the glass window again. She slipped the manual clipboard underneath the window slot back to the attentive receptionist.

The receptionist carefully reviewed the completed form and looked up, smiling at Fawn. "The physician is ready to see you, Miss Fong. Please slide over and use the side door. His nurse will escort you to the examination room."

Fawn nodded with a smile and an excited heart, sliding over, entering the open archway, following a short, overweight nurse in a pair of dark blue scrubs with a pattern of baby white lambs on the fabric. The hallway contained additional pale blue walls with the same running them of seashells in each mounted picture framed. The nurse stopped and pointed into a pink tinted, small square shaped, examination room that held the usual medical equipment pieces and furniture, consisting a wash sink, a short work counter, an examination bed with a white sheet of butcher paper, and a large glass window that viewed the parking lot of empty slots and a manicured lawn of prepared grass blades and a pod of colorful plants and flowers.

Fawn smiled without sound at the usual atmosphere for a doctor's office visit and entered the room, spinning around, climbing on top of the tall examination bed and dangled her feet, kicking out each leg with excitement and hope. The door was closed shut by the nurse.

She should have pursed the medical challenge of finding a cure for her lack of speech, before getting married to Ace next weekend on the thirteenth. However, Ace had turned her life upside down and he was also very active with his career and his removing all of his vicious family members that had murdered his biological sister.

Fawn felt both worried and excited, if there was a possibility of locating her voice, so to speak. She didn't giggle a sound but smiled at her clever thoughts.

The closed door slid open and revealed a smile face and a squat, muscular body on a short female possessing a head of short dark brown hair, a pair of green eyeballs, and a tone of pale skin. The female moved ahead and stopped in front of Fawn. "I am Dr. Windie Cambrone. It is very nice to meet you, Miss Fong. Now, you are mute. Do you recall what might have caused your medical condition?"

Fawn nodded and provided a second sheet of paper. She laughed. "Ah! I have a story." The physician carefully read out the sheet of paper. "My throat was cut by my biological mother at the age of two weeks old. I was found by a police officer in a garbage bend and saved at the local hospital here in Mobile. But I was never able to moan or groan or grunt or giggle or laugh or talk out loud to another person." She looked up and handed the paper back to Fawn. "Your mother was an evil person. I hope she is serving her time in hell. Let me quickly examine the other parts of your body first and rule out any type of infection or disease before I view your throat." Fawn nodded in silence. The physician carefully probed with each one of her medical instruments and checked each eardrum, the heart rate, the wrist pulse, the body temperature, both nose holes, each hand, foot, breast, and each rib inside the rib cage on Fawn and then she back stepped, nodding to her new patient. "Miss Fong, your other body parts are fit and healthy using my trained medical eyes and my medical instruments. So, I have eliminated any type of infection or visual disease from the list of clinical symptoms." She reached out and gently touched the naked throat muscles on Fawn. Fawn did not stir or jump from the soft touch. The physician nodded. "I find the neck structure normal. I do not feel any sores, lesions, lumps, bumps, cuts, bruises, broken bones, inflammation or swelling. This is good. I do not even see a scar band. And I cannot feel a scar band either. At two weeks old, your tiny baby body quickly healed and then your newborn skin rapidly grew new skin tissue over the brutal cut disguising the scar way into your adult years. So, your exterior throat muscles are completed healed without a permanent scar. Like me examine your tongue, mouth, and throat. Open wide!"

Fawn opened her mouth and closed her eyelashes. She did not enjoy the physician's physical touch and examination. The physician used a new instrument and examined the mouth content. "I see a healthy tongue, gums, nice teeth, good jaw line. I do not see any puncture or bruising or cuts on the lining of the cheek muscles. You do not possess your tonsils or your adenoids, which have been removed from your body. That would have been a logical medical step, if you were not able to speak or vocalized a sound from your throat muscles, but that medical procedure did not produce any verbal noise. I do not see any type of obstruction down inside your throat." The physician back stepped and nodded to Fawn. Fawn closed her mouth and felt her heart organ drop down into her ten toe nails.

The physician said. "I do not see any clinical problems with your biological body parts, including your throat muscles. Can you swallow your mouth salvia and small apple slices?" Fawn nodded in silence with a stern face. The physician asked. "Can you swallow small cuts of meats, such like, chicken, beef, pork?" Fawn nodded in silence. The physician asked. "Do you acquire quickly common cold symptoms, frequently? Are you sick with a sore throat, often?"

Fawn shook her curls in silence. The physician nodded. "Do you acquire strep throat symptoms, occasionally? Do you cough at any time? Do you gag on your spit or your food items or your drinks?" Fawn shook her curls in silence. The physician continued. "Does a single food or multiple food particles become lodged down in your throat? Has a soft or a hard object ever become lodged down in your throat?" Fawn shook her curls in silence. The physician nodded. "Do you have any other medical issues with your throat, other than not speaking a single vocal word or producing a faint grunting sound? Do you feel nausea, all the time?" Fawn shook her curls in silence. The physician nodded and back stepped, sliding down on top of the short stool, nodding with a stern face to Fawn. "I see. Your medical dilemma is very obvious." Fawn softly clapped and smiled at the smart physician. The physician exhaled with worry and nodded with a stern face. "You have AUD." Fawn frowned. "You drink too much and too many alcoholic beverages." Fawn gasped in shock and shook her curls at the dumb physician. The physician nodded. "You possess Alcohol Use Disorder or AUD." Fawn continued to shake her curls and both of her hands in the air, in silence, as she could not yell at the silly physician.

The physician nodded. "AUD is a pattern of alcohol usage while not able to control your drinking habit."

Fawn gasped in alarm and continued to wave both of her palms, shaking her curls. She did not possess an ink pen to write on the sheet of paper. Then she dropped both of her hands and whipped out her personal mobile telephone, tapping on the notepad feature her response, handing to the physician.

The physician accepted the phone and read out loud the response. "I do not drink any type of alcoholic beverages." She looked up with a stern face and handed back the phone, exhaling with frustration at the trouble patient. "Well, I cannot do anymore for you, Miss Fong. However, I strongly recommend a new physician, who can assist you with your illness," she whipped out her personal mobile telephone and smashed the icon, lifting the phone inside her eardrum, exhaling with frustration at her new patient. "Hello! This is Dr. Cambrone. I have a new patient for Dr. Londa Peck. The new patient is sitting inside my examination room and ready to go down to the fifth floor. Do you have an appointment nor or a little later in the morning?" She paused and listened, nodding with a smile to the voice on the opposite end of the phone connection. "Excellent! I will send the new patient down to Dr. Peck. Her name is Fawn Fong. She is coming right away." She dropped the phone and disconnected the signal. "You are ready for the next physician." She stood upright from the stool that rolled into the side wall, extending her hand to Fawn, nodding with a smirk. "It was very nice to meet you, Miss Fong. If you find another aliment, someplace else on your body, please come back here to my office, and, maybe, I can fix it." She laughed out loud and then smiled. "Your insurance will be billed for my professional physician services and your office visits. My receptionist said that your insurance company pays out each medical claim very well. So, you are ready to leave my office. Dr. Peck is located on the fifth floor level, here in the same building. You are located on the eighth floor. I will lead and escort you back down the hallway into the reception door." Fawn slid down and shook the extended hand with a fake smile and a nod in silence. The physician released her hand and spun around, moving ahead towards the door, exiting the examination room and shuffled down a busy corridor towards the receptionist door.

Fawn exhaled with annoyance and followed the back spine on the family practitioner. She really didn't feel like seeing another physician but determined to find a cure for her speech. Ace was a working all day long. The group of nice and rude southern belles were measuring the grand living room space for a gigantic pirate ship and all of the small pirate island pieces for the second upcoming bridal shower for bride Fawn.

Fawn didn't want or need a second bridal shower. She didn't own any possessions first. Ace had a house full of furniture and numerous items for a newly married couple as he was an older bachelor and lived in the same house, since his birth. However, she greatly desired a cure for her lack of sound and speech. The physician veered into another examination room without a good bye sound. Fawn walked down the busy hallway and opened the door, entering the reception area, again, without bothering to thank the receptionist, exiting the office space. She moved ahead down the hallway and grabbed another elevator, moving downwards towards the fifth floor level.

The elevator doors opened and revealed the same seashell theme running through the walls.

She exited the elevator and turned seeing the name of the next physician on the glass door, Londa Peck, psychiatrist.

this is going to take all of the daylight hours. i am not worried. ace is busy with work. grandfather smith is covering for me. the gang of southern belles are doing whatever and messy up the house. maybe, i will find out what is wrong with my vocal speech. then I can become healed and really talk to ace and his friends.

At 11:01 am, inside the Coast Guard military base, in the court room setting, at the prosecution table, Ace continued to sit and picking and then eating from each one of the delicious platters of food.

The girl was one of the triplet sister females, who happened to be visiting her uncle at the Coast Guard military base, this morning, and then decided to come and socialize with her former boyfriend Ace. She had told her two sisters that a plate of food would warm the heart of a beast and as she recalled the ancient axiom: The way to a man's heart is through his stomach.

Of course, she didn't cook the delicious lunch meal. She only ate food meals, not prepared them. Her house staff of cooks had prepared the meal this morning under her orders. But she concurred with the other southern belles, who were single, lonely and available for a marriage ceremony with a diamond ring and a long wedding dress. A home-cooked meal was the best way to win over his emotional affections for the proper southern lady, like her, not that ugly female named Fawn.

Ace continued to sample the food items, without complimenting the female triplet, from the trio of leeches. The food items were surprisingly very good treat, while pondering the ancient axiom: The way to a man's heart is through his stomach. He had not problem eating food any time of day or nighttime hours but watched his caloric intake. He was thirty-one years old, not twenty-one years of age.

And the ancient axiom might apply to the majority of males, but that majority did not include Ace. Some food experts, not including Ace, express that food eating is an intimate experiment.

O no!

Sex was the intimate experiment. A plate of food did create a memory reflex or a gag reflex, forged a new friendship or fended an old one. A plate of food did not make Ace's heart grow fonder of the meal, only his flattened stomach lining exploded sideways. He chuckled with his mental thoughts and then gagged on the food particles, coughing out loud, covering his open mouth with the clean cloth napkin.

On the opposite side of the prosecution table, Abby gasped in worry and cleared her throat. "Are you okay, Ace? Does the platter of mashed potatoes contain too much black pepper? I told her..." she smiled. "I was told that black pepper makes the tube of mashed potatoes much spicier and hotter. Do you like the tasty hotness in the tube of mashed potatoes Ace?"

He cleared his throat and finished chewing the food, nodding with a smirk, without talking to Abby. He really didn't want to engage a conversation with the dumb southern belle, who was still pretty looking and definitely unmarried at thirty years of age while looking for a husband, which was not Ace.

Anyways, he felt that a good dinner led to good sex. and he could love the home-cooked meal, but not the woman. He chuckled out loud and then gagged on the chewed food particles acting like an ass.

Abby gasped in shock. "Are you okay? Is the meal satisfactory, Ace?"

He continued to cough and cleared out the stray food particles from his wind pipe that went down the wrong hole while nodding with a smile, dunking the biscuit down into the gravy and ate the new bite. He opened his mouth and consumed the food. His two buddies Buck and Slick were probably standing in-between the tiny parted door frame watching Ace eat the delicious meal, without an invitation.

On the opposite side of the table surface, she continued to sit and wiggled on top of the hard chair while smiling at Ace. She had prepared a plate of food items also that sat in front of her chest, but she did not dare eat in front of her future husband. She was pleased that her cooked meal had won his heart. Well, the cooked meal had been prepared by the paid and professional cooks at her parents' house.

The food meal plays a part in love for both a male and a female which develops into a long-term steady love relationship, so preparing a food plate is an act of love.

She giggled at her mental thoughts and found her conclusion of the food meal profound. Anyways, she didn't cook the food meal which didn't matter. She had a house full of paid staff members to perform that daily and night task. She could hear the church bells chiming for their upcoming wedding ceremony at the end of the heated summertime days.

Her sister was wrong to use that witch altar as a substitution of old-fashioned home-cooked meal that make a man's heart yearn for his true love.

Abby continued to sit, stared, and smiled at Ace while he continued to grunt and eat each food item.

He swallowed the food item and pondered a new saying within his active brain cells: the way to a man's heart is through his eardrums.

A modern day man feels more sensitive and actively emotional while living in this competitive and stressful world of dog eats dog. The modern man has emotional needs that must be fulfilled that goes straight through his heart and into his brain cells, not the stomach lining. The stomach only grows, when hunger. The mind clicks and activates all of the nerve endings when sad, glad, or mad.

She continued to smirk and stared at Ace while hoping he would ask her to make him a later afternoon sandwich from the left-over food items which truly indicated a budding, blooming romance with her girly southern belle company.

He chewed the last lump of food and wiped off a dirty mouth with the cloth napkin, nodding with a pair of closed lips, lifting his hand in the air. Abby tensed with a smile and fluttered with her girly love emotions inside her heart. Ace was going to compliment her cooked meal again and finally engage in a romance conversation.

He wiggled the arm in the air and coughed out loud, clearing the lumpy food particles from his throat, calling out loud. "Hey, guys! Slick. Buck! Come in here and get some food! Abby was so sweet and kind preparing a picnic basket of food treats for the entire base of hunger US Coast Guards," he laughed with a wink at Abby. Of course, both Slick and Buck were standing in the slightly parted door frame while spying on Ace, drooling over the good-smelling food items. After the loud call, they bolted through an open archway and dashed over the polished floor, colliding into the prosecution table, sliding down into one of the hard chairs and then attacked the food platters with a set of bad redneck manners in front of the pretty gold diggers, that was annoying Ace.

Abby gasped in alarm and then smiled, not really desiring to greet and meet the two employed soldiers, who worked underneath military judge Ace Smith while nodding with her fake smile using her southern belle manners at Slick and Buck.

At 01:18 am, on the fifth floor level, Fawn had sat on top of the ugliest loveseat in the world which was covered in tan hue with an array of very large hand-drawn brown-tinted pelicans. She never concerned a pelican mammal a lovely creature of the seas and still didn't. The cute seashell theme had ended at the doorway into the physician's office on the fourth floor level of the same office building. The interior square-shaped tiny chamber room exhibited a set of four mud-colored dark walls that enclosed the sinuses and the emotions on Fawn. She felt like a can of open tuna inside the dark-tinted refrigerator shelf, alone, cold, and lonely. Each wall was naked, without a glass window viewing the sunrays or a single piece of art work cheering up the scared patient or a single framed diploma of the licensed psychiatrist.

For two hours and ten minutes, Fawn sat and nodded in silence to each one of the medical questions coming from a really young, plain-looking psychiatrist, who displayed a pair of aqua colored irises, a tone of pale skin, and a head of shoulder length red tinted hair, who was called Desani Barron, DO. Fawn had retold her sad medical story by typing out numerous text messages on her personal mobile telephone screen to Desani.

Desani continued to look down at the screen on her mobile telephone, fiddling the keyboard, typing out her notes from Fawn or playing on an internet game in boredom. Fawn could not distinguish the physician's work habits either. Desani looked up with a stern face and continued to hold her mobile telephone, saying with a stern tone. "Thank you for coming to my private medical setting. I do not see that you need to become admitted into a hospital room." Fawn gasped in shock and could not speak her words or grunt her disapproval to the young medical physician.

Desani continued. "As part of my clinical assessment procedure, I have employed the standard mental status examination which has provided a negative conclusion." Fawn slightly nodded in silence back to the young physician as she could not grunt a sound.

Desani continued. "I could prescribe a physical examination using a brain imaging computerized tomography scan or a magnetic resonance imaging or MRI, or a positron emission tomography which is called a PET scan." Fawn gasped in alarm and did not nod back to the physician. The physician smiled. "But you cannot speak words or grunt sounds. And any of these radiological tests will not reveal your clinical issue. However, I could order a blood test. But I fear the results would be negative again regarding the lack of sound coming from your damaged vocal cords." She nodded with a grin. "This is the good news for you, Fawn. I have not found any clinical indicators regarding any type of flawed genetics, such as, Alzheimer's disease, attention deficit hyperactivity disorder or ADHD, sleep disorder, an eating disorder, any sexual disorders, any mood disorders or any anxiety disorders, such like, obsessive compulsive disorder or OCD, post-traumatic stress disorder or PTSD." She waved both of her arms in the air and wore a stern face, slapping both of her hands on top of the mobile telephone, without injury. "I do not see any psychological issues here within your biological body or inside your mental mind state. So, I cannot help your medical condition. However, I do another idea for you to explore. I am going to send you to an orthopedic medical physician." She looked down at the phone screen and typed a new text message to the next medical physician. "I am typing out a text message for a new appointment for Papillion Aldrey, MD. He is an oncologist and could help you. There!" She looked up and nodded with a smile to Fawn. "Your next medical appointment is set within fifteen minutes, in this building, on the seventh floor. Papillion is available to see new patients also. Thank you for coming, Fawn. Can you walk yourself out from the examination room and down into the lobby?" Fawn nodded with a smile in silence. Desani continued to nod and did not move from her chair. "Bye, Fawn. Great luck!" She looked back down and typed on the tiny keyboard of her personal mobile telephone.

On top of the ugly loveseat, Fawn slowly stood upright from the ugly cushion and stared down at the red tinted hair roots in silence, sliding over from the seat, spinning with a stern face of doubt and moved ahead, leaving the room and the physician.

She slowly padded down an empty hallway without spying into any of the open archways while pondering her next medical appointment with a new medical physician. She looked down at her mobile telephone, seeing the current time of 01:20 pm, looking up and exited the suite of Desani Barron, DO.

Fawn felt a little rushed with time as she had left her home around 08:30 this morning and abandoned Granddaddy Smith to the wild animals on the patio floor. And Ace did not know of her numerous office visits to an array of medical physicians that could not solve her medical mystery.

She dashed through the busy lobby and entered an open elevator carriage with other patients and guests traveling up towards the seventh floor level, exiting the carriage, entering a new medical office. The room was also decorated in hues of candy pink sky blue and pale yellow throughout the walls and individual living room furniture pieces while running with a seashell theme. She registered at the receptionist desk and presented her insurance card for the office visit, without sitting down in the lobby area.

A side door opened and revealed a squat woman in a set of solid yellow tinted scrubs, motioning with her hand, not her voice, spinning around from Fawn and slowly moved down a long hallway with less seashell pictures and numerous frames with an individual human.

Fawn quickly gathered her personal possessions from the receptionist and swiftly padded through the open archway, following the back spine on the silent nurse, viewing two side walls of individual faces, who were not really happy but slightly worried. She wondered if each picture frame was a dead person in a cold grave of hard dirt, since Fawn was visiting with an oncologist, who was a cancer medical specialist physician with fear and intrigue. She didn't think her set of vocal cords were cancerous, only damaged. If that was the clinical case here, then she might be planning a sad funeral with Ace rather than a happy wedding ceremony. She slowly moved down a busy hallway and peeked into each open archway, seeing a patient that did not appear too healthy. She worried with concern for each patient and her own biological body.

The nurse stopped and then spun around, staring at Fawn, pointing into the new examination room without speaking. Fawn nodded in silence and entered the new room of pink painted wall with one seashell picture and the walls of standard medical equipment for a physician office visit. She immediately sat on top of the examination table with a sheet of white tined butcher paper that wrinkled ugly underneath her both of her folded legs and her flattened fanny tissue.

The nurse did not bother to close the door either.

Fawn whipped out her mobile telephone and quickly read any new text messages, without seeing a sweet text from Ace. He would usually text her during his work days, not today. She understood the reason.

Ace was retiring from the US Coast Guard service as a military judge and becoming a civilian for the first time in his long military life. He was nervous and excited about his new life with Fawn. And Ace was really busy this week, wrapping up the last three days as a career judge, before the American Fourth of July holiday, when he would become unemployed as a working man. Thus, he had forgotten to text his future bride with a sweet message.

At 02:02 pm, on the US Coast Guard military base, in the court room setting, at the prosecution table, Slick, Buck, and Ace continued to sit and offered an array of funny or dirty jokes about their or someone else's life in the US military and as Abby continued to sit and pretended to laugh or faked a grin at each nasty joke. The picnic table of food items was empty. The table surface was cleaned from smelly food crumbs and the court room was empty with prisoners. One of the entrance doors swung open and revealed the face from one of the military police officers. Then the second door slide open and revealed a trio of people, entering the court room with a prisoner.

At the prosecution table, Ace looked up and slapped the clean surface, nodding with a smile to the pair of military police officers. "Well, our playtime has ended for the day. We have work to do, Slick and Buck. Thanks for the grub, Abby! Bye, bye Abby! Can you escort Abby back to her car, Buck?" He stood upright from the hard chair and scooted sideways, spinning around, moving ahead back towards the judge's bench for an afternoon of work. He climbed the stairs and slid down into the seat, fiddling with the computer tablet that held the new information regarding the new prisoner. Ace did not find a soldier innocent, only guilty.

Abby continued to sit and as Buck stood upright from the chair, reaching out and grabbed the picnic basket for the southern belle while pointing to the entrance wall. Abby exhaled with annoyance and slowly stood upright from the chair, waiting for the trio of soldiers to clear the court room galley. She slid away from the table and turned facing the entrance wall, smiling with her feat. She and Ace had a wonderful time eating the home-cooked meal, even with the two soldiers while constructing their budding love romance. Ace didn't mention that ugly female one time in front of Abby or his two friends. So, Abby concluded that the ugly female was a passing "Fancy Nancy" for Ace, who was longing and looking for a true southern belle, like Abby.

At 02:08 am, in the medical office building, on the seventh floor, inside the examination room, Fawn continued to play on her personal mobile telephone while wasting her time and the heated day.

A squat, muscular male entered the room with a smile and grabbed the short stool, rolling up to the examination table, staring at Fawn. "Hello, Miss Fong! Welcome to my clinic! I am Papillion Aldrey. You can call me Dr. Papillion, most of my patients do. I guess you are wondering why you are seeing an oncologist as you do not have cancer. I am also a hematologist, which is the study of blood disorders that are not related to cancer. Some of the common blood conditions include anemia, sickle cell disease and thrombosis.

"The blood disorder of anemia affects three million Americans each year. Anemia is a condition from a shortage of red blood cells, because the body does not produce enough red blood cells or does not replace lost red blood cells fast enough or destroys the red blood cells for some reason. In the red blood cell, hemoglobin is a protein that carries oxygen molecules into the two lungs and then transports carbon dioxide from the two lungs. did you know that? I like to education each one of my new patients. The medical condition of anemia comes from a deficiency of iron in the body or caused by a chronic disease such like cancer. I treat a new patient with the medical condition of anemia using vitamin supplements and a change in dietary meals. If the anemia is dramatic, I involve a blood transfusion or a painful bone marrow transplantation from a blood-kin relative." Fawn gasped in alarm and shook her curls in worry. He laughed. "However, you do not appear anemic. You possess a glowing tone of healthy light brown skin. Do you feel tired or exhausted during the early hours of the bright day? Do you drag around your work office before the lunchtime meal? Do you sleep in the bed mattress right after working before the slumber ritual?" She shook her curls in silence.

He nodded with a smile. "I can rule out the blood disorder of anemia. The most common inherited red blood cell disorder is sickle cell disease which affect 100,000 Americans each year. Sickle cell disease is an inherited gene mutation coming from both parents which changes the physical shape of the hemoglobin protein in the red blood cell. The shape distorted the red blood cells from a round shape into a sickle shape. The abnormal sickle shape pushes each affected red blood cells slowly through the blood stream and blocks some of the blood vessels and cuts off the blood circulation through the human body. This abnormal transportation of each sickle-shaped red blood cell causes pain and organ damage over time inside the affected human body creating a high risk of blocked blood vessels that leads to a brain stroke on the victim. Sickle cell disease is a lifetime condition that cannot be cured but treated for the rest of their life, until their death day.

"This is a bit of interesting ancient old historically and medically and social science information that I would like to share. Through the genetics theory of the Natural Selection Order both the gene pool and the environment can and does influence the human biological and chemical body. Research and historical observation studies have proven that malaria was a problem, within the country of Africa, thus the human body created a gene which mutated and created a sickle cell anemia gene that did resist malaria. As more African peoples migrated out from their homeland continent of Africa and into other foreign countries, without the issue of malaria, some African peoples carted and carried within their human body the genetic sickle cell anemia disorder coming from their biological mother and their father. Present day, sickle cell anemia disorder is a death sentence for a person carrying the mutated gene, because there is no malaria condition for the gene mutation to destroy and protect a non-attacking human body. But I can see that you do not carry the sickle cell blood disease as it affects one hundred of African-Americans only. But is that information not fascinating?" She nodded with a smile in silence.

He continued. "As a hematologist, I also treat thrombosis. The blood disorder of thrombosis affects one million Americans and causes 100,000 deaths each year. Thrombosis is a blood clot in one of the numerous body parts that travels directly up or sideways or downwards into the one or both of your healthy lungs and causes death. do you have trouble breathing or hyperventilating during the day or at night?" She shook her curls in silence. He continued. "Thrombosis is not usually related to a cancer risk but associated with a recent surgery operation, family history, certain drug medications, alcohol consumption, recent pregnancy, smoking nasty cigarettes or cigars and obesity presentation. If you experience a sign of thrombosis, then I can prescribe a blood thinner mediation or a pair of specially designed compression socks for one foot or both feet? Do you experience any of these clinical or medical or addictive conditions?" She shook her curls in silence. He frowned. "I am confused. What is your purpose for the office visit today to a hematologist?"

She whipped out her mobile telephone and typed out a long text message on the phone that was not sent to any person but for visual presentation, handing her telephone with her typed note to the medical physician. He read out loud her typed message. "I am mute. I cannot speak a word or grunt a sound. Dr. Barron sent me here thinking you can help me talk again." Papillion looked up and handed back the phone to Fawn, shaking his bone skull. "I am not a throat doctor. But I can examine your throat for any type of cancerous particles with my one or all of my medical instruments. However, I do believe that the other medical physicians have also do that and found nothing of importance. Am I correct?" She nodded with a sad face. He exhaled with frustration for the new patient. "You do not possess any type of visual cancerous cells, so I cannot help you here. Your set of vocal cords are damaged in some way, so I believe that you need to go and visit with an internist physician. An internist covers more specific areas of the body like the throat and my friend has so really cool pieces of medical equipment that helps lots of folks." He nodded with a smile to Fawn and then looked down, whipping out his personal mobile telephone. "I am going to send a quick text message to my friend, the internist, Dr. Smola Nosser. She is a really cool gal and is always available to diagnosis and treat a difficult patient. Hmm! Smola is booked for the rest of the day, but she has an open appointment at nine o'clock tomorrow morning," he looked up and smiled at Fawn. "Does the time of nine o'clock work within your busy schedule?" She bounced up and down with excitement for another try at verbal speaking, nodding with a smile. He nodded back and looked down, typing on the same keyboard to his doctor friend with the new appointment, returning back, smiling at Fawn. "Done! Smola likes to try new and exciting clinical protocols on difficult patients." He stood upright from the short stool that flung into the side wall with a soft thump, extending his hand with a nod. "It was nice to meet you, Miss Fong! I hope Smola can help you speak out loud."

Fawn slid off the examination table and reached out, shaking and then release his hand, nodding with a smile in silence. She quickly left the room, his office suite, and then the office building, dashing back to her sports car. The time was close to three o'clock in the afternoon. She needed to beat Ace home from work. None of the southern belles or new step-grandmother Magritte would dare to question her absence from her own house as she could not tell them about her numerous office visits to an array of medical physicians today. Ace would not know her secrets either.

She unlocked the car and slid down into the driver's seat, carefully driving back home with her set of deep, dark, disappointing secrets while feeling a little hope and excitement about tomorrow morning at nine o'clock.

Fifteen minutes later, she safely arrived back at her shared home with Ace and his daughter Gem. Gem was having fund at the beach without a set of nosy adults ruling her teenly life. Fawn could wish for such freedom.

Fawn parked her sports car in the same spot on the public city street a few yards from the entrance of the house, sliding out from the car, slamming the door shut and scanned the city streets and the manicured front lawn. The morning invasion force of pretty and tireless southern belles still worked inside Ace's house on the silly Pirate Bridal theme party which was scheduled for Friday afternoon.

She was not a wealthy socialite like Magritte or one of the other southern belles and offered wondered what a rich girl did for fun during the day without working a paying job for monies. Now, Fawn understood. The gang of rich girls spent their southern belle time and energy planning a new social party. It was very strange, to Fawn, that the southern belles were hosting a social party in the middle of the daylight hours. However, she also had learned that each southern belle would arise in the early morning and exercise a fit body first, dress their fit and clean body second, eat the lunch meal next and then attend the new social party in the afternoon for two hours. After leaving the old social party, each southern belle would dress for a nightly social party some place within the city of Mobile, before the midnight hour ended the day.

the lifestyle of the rich and famous!

Fawn slowly headed towards the back yard from the city street and spotted Granddaddy Smith. He was slowly poking around the manicured lawn in the shadows of the lovely shade and out of the bright sunlight collecting individual pieces of nasty trash off the manicured lawn, in silence. She approached him from behind, when he spotted the swift movement as an old war soldier with great instincts at the age of 67 years old.

He spun around from the building wall and smiled at Fawn, placing the trash down inside the cloth bag, closing the bag. He would present to his new wife tonight at the dinner meal for some humor fun. He shouldered the back and opened his arm for Fawn, "Welcome back, stranger!" She hugged his fit body for an elderly senior and then pulled back, nodding with a stern face, lifting both of her arms in a crooked gesture while silently indicating to me, if she had been missed from the decorating party.

He reached out and cuddled her body, spinning them around, shaking his bone skull. They slowly shuffled ahead towards the fenced back yard at Ace's house. He smiled. "Naw! No questions! No comments! Good food! I enjoyed my boring day with my new wife. Magritte is a bit pushy, but she tolerates me. That's all of importance here. When you get older, you don't change your old civil or social or criminal ways. So, you and Ace better start to like each other's flaws, which is flesh and blood, not spirit and soul. But Ace is really an easy going boy and tolerates much and just kills what annoys him," he laughed with truth. His teenage grandson, with his set of talented Resources, had found and then permanently murdered the three teenage boys that had killed his parents, without his granddaddy's permission, decades ago. Granddaddy Smith would have ordered the same bloody hit, if he had been quicker and wiser in his old age.

They slowly entered the back yard and moseyed around the yard while Attila updated Fawn about the ugly decorations inside the house while laughing out loud at the silly bridal party theme. He was invited on Friday afternoon social party also and would dress in a solid white business suit that would annoy his new wife and all of the snobby social southern belles here in Mobile.

On the patio floor, the rear door opened and revealed a sour face on Magritte, standing inside the archway, staring at the back spine on each one of the rich, spoiled Mobilian. Fawn had disappeared for the entire day, without offering a nicely manicured fingernail with the bridal party for her upcoming wedding ceremony, here at her house. Attila had wandered off with his future granddaughter-in-law roaming about the neighborhood, like an insane old coot. Well, Magritte was going to create an embarrassing incident in which the gang of southern belles would record and remember for years to come with the old, insane man. She stomped ahead with speed and plowed through the thick plot of manicured grass, catching one of her spiky low shoe heels down into the thick brown tinted dirt, grunting with annoyance at the embarrassment.

In front of the grove of short trees and pods of colorful flowers, Fawn and Attila stood and as he pointed down at each flower, tattling the history of the plant when, a set of quick movements caught the side view on the old man. He slowly spun around with Fawn to face the rear patio doors and laughed at the silly sight, slowly moving ahead with Fawn, stopping in front of Magritte. "Is something wrong, my love?" He chuckled with amusement.

Magritte wiggled her spiked heel from the thick plot of dirt while sneering at her husband. "Ya old coot! Do not flirt with any of the young and beautiful girls. I get jealous."

"You get jumpy!" He laughed at his new wife.

Ace had arrived home from his long work day and entered the front door, waving both of his hands, sending all of the southern belles back home, before exiting his house, entering the patio yard. He appeared in his military uniform with a smile and stood beside Magritte, looking down at the dirt with amusement. Her spiked heel was caught in the thick grass. She did not want to remove the show which would release the dirt. "How's it going, Granddaddy?"

"The old coot can't hear your words, Ace."

Attila patted the hand on Fawn and smiled at Magritte. "I can still hear and see and taste and smell and feel just fine. Thanks for asking, Ace. Thanks for the acknowledgement, my love."

She pulled out her heel from the soil that splattered dirt over her foot and her dress, sneering at her husband. "Do not start with your pet names for me, junior!"

"I am the senior and I like my pet names," he winked at Ace and slowly moved ahead with Fawn. "Come on, my love! Time for us to leave the young kids for some sexy fun." He laughed and entered the house, marching towards the front door. The room was empty and quiet. The side open archway into the kitchen space was almost completely blocked off with a gigantic cardboard copy with the side of a fake sea vessel with a fake tall post mass, a deck galley, a steering wheel, and a pair of fake true white tinted curtain for sea sails. Inside the furniture pieces, a tall pub table held two tall high stools for the guests and the food trays that were decorated with true treasures, including an assortment of golden nuggets, semi-precious stones, silver coins, gold coins, jewelry pieces for each guest. Attila and Magritte left the house and entered their car, driving away.

Ace stopped with Fawn in the middle of the newly re-decorated living room and scanned the ugly decorations. "What in the hell is this mess all over our house and on the new walls and the new floor and the new stuff?"

She smiled at the ugly decorations and touched his arm, speaking into his mind.

a pirate bridal theme party.

He rolled his eyeballs and returned back, continuing to scan the living room, "Yeah, right! Let me change my clothes first. Then we can go to drink and eat until midnight. How does that sound?"

great!

They moved up the staircase with a smile as they continued to talk to each other.
Tuesday, July 2nd

07:52 am

Heated day with hot air temperatures and bright sunlight

House location of Ace

Front porch setting

The next day repeated all of the exact steps with the new morning hours, like yesterday morning.

Ace had to complete his work day during the holiday vacation while his other military co-workers spent the day with their family members. Fawn again had to endure the gang of southern belles and Magritte completing the pirate theme bridal decorations before the party date of Friday afternoon. Attila had accompanied his wife to entertain his upcoming new granddaughter-in-law.

Outside, Ace again left for his work day from his house. Inside the interior walls, Magritte again took over the direction of the resources and the decorations for the pirate theme bridal shower.

Fawn and Attila again slowly moved ahead and exited the house, sitting on the patio floor, enjoying the rear lawn environment during the early morning hours. Attila sat in the sitting chair. Fawn again sat on the loveseat and bounced up and down with excitement for her new clinical appointment with the new medical physician at nine o'clock.

After the dinner meal, last night, Ace and Fawn had returned back home and talked about the upcoming bridal party and the wedding ceremony next week, before retiring too floor for slumber. After the midnight hour, while Ace was sound asleep in their shared bed mattress, Fawn had left the bedroom setting and moved down the staircase, entering the living room setting, fiddling with her personal mobile telephone. She had studied the functions of a medical internist, who specialized in the diagnosis and medical treatment of adults, not children. The subspecialty treatments included allergy and immunology, cardiology of the heart, endocrinology of hormone disorders, hematology of blood disorders, infectious diseases, gastroenterology with diseases of the gut, nephrology with kidney diseases, oncology of cancer, pulmonology of lung disorders and rheumatology with arthritis and musculoskeletal disorders. Maybe, her biological body lacked some female hormones, which could be corrected with drug medications or herbs or minerals.

Since the church service, Fawn had toggled back and forth with her first decision to see a family practitioner or a medical internist. If she had seen the medical internist first, then Fawn could have been talking out loud and laughing at each one of Ace's jokes by America's birthday, on the Fourth of July.

From the rear wall of glass doors and windows, the door opened and revealed the same waitress, holding a tray of sweaty glass with sweet tea and one lemon slice, padding across the hard patio bricks and then stopped at the tiny wooden table. she leaned down and presented the tray of beverages to Attila first. He grabbed two tumblers and handed one to Fawn.

Fawn accepted the beverage and sipped the sweet liquid, swallowing with a smile, placing the sweaty glass on top of the wooden table.

He held his beverage and winked at the cute, young, female waitress, "Young lady, you look fine and healthy and smart. Are you working your person through a series of college courses to improve your life force for the future?"

She gasped in shock and as her mind comprehended the question, saying with a smile. "No, sir!"

Attila faked a smile and asked a new question. "Thanks for addressing my personal nosy question, miss. Could you please bring us an entire pitcher of sweet tea with a side bowl of ice cubes and a second side bowl of lemon slices? An old man gets thirsty in the heat of day."

She nodded with a smile. "Yes, sir! I will leave and fetch you all of the items immediately." The waitress stood upright and left the patio area, entering the house.

Attila sipped on the beverage, when the rear door opened and revealed the male waiter. The tall, slightly handsome young waiter padded ahead with a smile and stopped, leaning down, placing a entire pitcher of sweaty glass with sweet tea, a bowl of ice cubes, and a second bowl of sliced lemon wedges on top of the small wooden table, offering a new tray of food items to the old man, "Sir, would you like a plate of fresh fruit?"

Attila swallowed the sweet liquid and looked up staring with a smile at the familiar waiter. "O! The sissy wussie is back serving us again, on another day. I hope you worked hard yesterday for your lousy pay. You can arrange a new platter of food items for us, this morning, too. Thanks!"

The waiter slowly and carefully provided an empty platter, arranging an assortment of delicious fresh food items on top of the yellow tinted ceramic, standing upright with a smile. "Enjoy your day and the food refreshment, miss and sir! Do you require anything else, sir?"

Attila flipped his hand and then turned with a smile, nodding to Fawn. "I know that you are restless and wanna leave the busy commotion inside that room. Go on! Go ahead! I don't wanna leave Magritte all alone, without some husband support, here inside Ace's home. So, you go on and go shopping for the rest of the day. You will not be missed. Magritte enjoys giving orders to all of her little southern belles, where I do not interfere. I plan to enjoy the sunlight and find more trash items on the manicured lawn. Today's people, they don't care about anything but messy up the world."

The waiter left the patio floor and entered back into the house, standing slightly against the side walk, watching the two people on the patio area.

On the patio floor, in the loveseat, Fawn bounced up and down, slowly standing upright from the cushion, spinning around and viewed the patio glass windows. Magritte was marching around the interior room and pointing both of her hands at each southern belle worker finishing up the decorations for the bridal showers. She exhaled with annoyance and didn't particular enjoy the company of Magritte, but she was not related or married to the elderly woman. She returned back to see the smile on Attila and then leaned down, gently pecking a light kiss on her new step grandfather Smith, pulling back with a wink. He waved his hand and nodded with a smile. She slowly scooted away from the patio floor, the patio furniture, and Attila, slowly pacing over the sidewalk, exiting the back yard.

Inside the house, the same tall, slightly handsome waiter continued to stand along the side wall away from Magritte, the group of working southern belles, and the gang of employed paid kitchen staff members, reaching down, whipping out his personal mobile telephone. He pressed the familiar icon on the screen and then lifted the devise into his face, softly whispering to the person on the other end phone connection while carefully watching Fawn, who had vanished from the back yard on Ace's house. He removed the phone and dropped the devise back down into his red tinted waiter apron, spinning around with a smile, moving back into the kitchen setting for his paid work job.

At the edge of the fenced yard, Fawn exited the back yard with a smile of excitement and slowly moved ahead towards her parked sports car without suspicion from one of the working belles or Magritte, for a second time. She entered her car and carefully drove ahead towards the medical office building for her nine o'clock appointment.

At 08:45 am, at the USA Coast Guard military base, in the same court room setting, at the same prosecution table, Ace, Slick, and Buck had arrived for another working day while counting down their individual retirement hours of Wednesday, July 3rd. They sat in a hard chair and played a card game of poker for fun while killing another lazy day of work hours, laughing at the set of nasty girly and manly jokes.

Both of the double doors swung open and revealed a trio of soldiers. Ace looked up and nodded to the lead military police officer, slowly standing upright from the chair. Buck and Slick quickly gathered up the cards and coins preparing for an early morning court trial. Ace scooted from the table and entered the judge's bench, staring down at the guilty soldier, quickly reading the criminal charges of drug smuggling on the updated computer laptop on top of the desk surface, when a new face appeared inside the open archway, looking like Abby.

Abby moved ahead and stopped, holding another picnic basket with numerous food items, sliding down on the last row, in the first chair, smiling at Ace. She would patiently watch and wait for Ace to finish the court sessions, before offering plates of food during his break.

On the judge's bench, Ace noticed the familiar female and continued with the nasty prosecution of the guilty solider, ordering the punishment, releasing the soldier from military rank and life onto the busy city streets of Mobile. After his first court case, another trio of soldiers appeared for the same task. Abby continued to sit and watched Ace in action, wearing a smile of delight.

At 08:48 am, Fawn had parked her sports car outside the same building and arrived a few minutes, before her schedule appointment, rushing into the lobby area, stopping in front of a set of solid steel doors and frowned with confusion.

what! this is a steel door into something else. where is location of the doctor's office?

She back stepped from the steel doors and spin around viewing the lobby area consisting of a wall of glass entranced doors, and a pair of elevator doors on the rear wall. There was not another glass door with a physician name. She returned back and studied the single steel door, reading the embedded letters, stating Smola Nosser, MD. She nodded with a smile.

this is the place. this is the doctor's office. this is the time. okay.

She reached up and tapped on the steel door. The door magical slid open and as she gasped in shock and then smiled at the tricky door. Fawn entered into a large room and stopped, standing in front of the receptionist's window and displayed her home-made, hand-printed sign with her personal medical information.

The receptionist looked up and gasped in alarm, reading out loud the paper sign. "O! I am Fawn. I am mute. I have an appointment at nine o'clock with Dr. Smola today. I am here." She smiled. "Fawn is here. I have marked you here. Please fill out this form for me and then you can see Dr. Smola Nosser."

Fawn dropped the sheet of piece down into her open designer purse with a smile and accepted the new computer tablet, scooting backwards from the window, slamming her back spine into the edge on the tall table. She spun around to face the side wall and gasped in alarm, scanning the reception room.

Each wall was made of solid steel, not plaster or wood or pretty wallpaper, without a glass window of sunlight or a single piece of art work or a mounted picture frame of cute colorful seashells. She had not noticed the interior design when Fawn burst into the reception area for her scheduled medical appointment. The room was perfectly square shaped. Scattered throughout the large room, a single tall table made of solid steel stood apart from each other and held two tall matching steel made chairs. The entrance wall exhibited a set of glass doors which was surrounded by a steel wall of dull metal. The side wall into the back rooms held a single glass window which displayed the upper body on the receptionist. Fawn smiled at the unique decor, sliding down into the tall cold seat on the stool, filling out the paperwork. She quickly finished and felt excited about curing her non-working vocal cords, sliding off the chair, moving back to the glass window and handed the employee the clip board. The receptionist quickly read the information and looked up with a smile, pointing to the side door. "Go ahead and enter the side door and move down into examination room number three. There is not a nurse, only a row of empty rooms. You are the first patient this morning."

Fawn nodded with a smile and moved towards the flush metal door, reading an embedded print in the metal door. she tapped on the door. The metal door slid open and revealed a long, quiet, semi-dark hallway without other medical staff members. She gasped in shock and exhaled with mystery, slowly padding through the open archway into the corridor, scanning each open room. She reached the third examination room quickly and stood inside the doorway without a wooden or metal door with intrigue. The square shaped room a single upright steel made stand that served as an examination table in the middle of the floor. Each wall was made of steel also without the standard pieces of medical equipment, such like, a wash sink, a working counter, a set of cabinets, or a short stool. She giggled with amusement and felt excitement about this particular medical appointment, entering the room, stopping in front of the standing board. She reached out and touched the steel feeling the cold metal. A buzzing sound broke her daydream. She spun around with a gasp and viewed the archway.

A rolling machine in the format of an exact standing board flew through the open archway and then stopped, parking a few feet from Fawn. Resting upright on the steel metal, a tall, slender female displayed a head of cropped blonde tinted hair, a pair of blue eyes, and a tone of dark skin, waving her hand at Fawn, using the other hand on the control panel. "Good morning, Fawn! I am Smola Nosser. Do you like my Unirider? I created the riding board myself with the help of my talented engineering staff members. Now, I can roll around the hallway without getting outta of the chair." Fawn nodded with a smile. Smola said. "Papillion called and explained your unique medical condition, to me. Your vocal cords are not functioning which does not allow you to speak a word or grunt a sound, but you do not possess any physical damage to the throat, esophagus, or neck areas, that he could see. So, I am going to try a new treatment protocol called hyperbaric oxygen therapy, where the patient breathes into the lungs one hundred oxygen molecules while under an increasing atmospheric pressurized environment that allows pure oxygen into the human body for faster healing process. Hyperbaric oxygen therapy utilizes a modern day hyperbaric chamber. We all live here within a seaport town of Mobile with the warm Gulf of Mexico oceans waters splashing onto our front door step or back door step depending on the front of your house," she chuckled. "Each novice, advanced, and experienced diver enjoys exploring the ocean waters, where a human cannot breathe, only a school of aquatic animals. Sometimes, during a deep diving adventure, the diver becomes panicked or fearful or careless sailing back through the water without depressurizing their delicate human body, emerging from the water surface, feeling cramps while bending or contorting their body into different painful shapes. The bends is a symptom of carbon dioxide blood bubbles trapped in the blood stream of the sick diver. The theory of hyperbaric oxygen therapy is not new, but ancient. The invention of the hyperbaric chamber structure is also not new, but ancient, too.

"In the year 1662, a British clergyman and medical physician named Henshaw built the first hyperbaric chamber which was a sealed room that utilized a series of mechanical bellows and valves that simulated pressurized and then unpressurized air oxygen molecules inside a sealed room that treated certain respiratory diseases on each one of his sick patients. A clever idea, I must admit.

"In the year 1879, a French surgeon named Fontaine built a pressurized, mobile operating room for divers and sailors with decompression illness or the bends. In the year 1928, medical physician Orville Cunningham, a professor of anesthesia ran the "Steel Ball Hospital" which was six stories high and 64 feet in diameter that reached three atmospheres of pressurized air for treating sick humans. However, the Steel Ball Hospital closed down in the year 1930 due to the lack of medical evidence on healing each sick patient.

"Since the 1940s, hyperbaric oxygen treatment is the standard protocol for all military scuba divers here in the USA, when a scuba diver ascends too quickly and acquires an air gas embolism or the bends or decompression sickness exhibiting problems with air bubbles in the blood stream. The standard medical treatment involves the administration of pure oxygen molecules into the human lungs while sitting or lying inside a decompression chamber or recompression chamber or a hyperbaric chamber or a sealed chamber with a long table or in a sitting chair. The body of the diver must return back to the same depth pressure at which he or she was diving and then follow a gradual decompression technique that reduces the volume of carbon dioxide bubbles in his or her blood stream.

"The hyperbaric oxygen treatment works for each diver with decompression sickness and new studies has found benefits for other sick patients with infections, embolism, open tissue wound infections, Alzheimer's disease, infertility, carbon monoxide poisoning, gas gangrene, tissue radiation injury, diabetes problems, severe anemia, brain abscess, burns, sudden deafness, skin graft with risk of tissue death, and sudden vision loss. Mental retardation patients have shown improvement of healed impaired neuron cells in the gray matter of the brain. The hyperbaric oxygen treatment cannot cure mental retardation but improves the neural tissues by sucking in one hundred percent pure oxygen molecules that feed the body fluids, tissues, and brain cells. This is very exciting field of medical research. There are even more numerous possibilities with hyperbaric oxygen treatment protocols that the other research medical physicians have not thought of. So, I feel very positive today that the hyperbaric oxygen treatment can cure your non-responsive vocal cords. Let's exit the examination room and walk or roll down the hallway. The hyperbaric chamber room is down at the end of the hallway." She reached down and pressed the control panel, driving the Unirider machine backwards through the open archway, spinning around in the hallway, facing the end of the corridor.

Fawn slowly followed the rear board on the moving machine with the smart physician out the room and stopped, standing beside the machine.

Smola smiled ahead. "Don't worry! I did not really drive the Unirider. The smart computer chip recognizes object and either rolls forward or backwards from any solid object without harming the driver, which is me. I only press a button that tells the machine what to do. This is my working prototype and my invention that only rolls around my hallways that are made of steel metal. The metal keeps other microwaves from invading the computer chip and causing the machine to maneuver out of control. Let's roll ahead!" She slowly rolled the machine with a smooth pacing speed down an empty, cold, steel made hallway without a single glass window or a piece of pretty art work while Fawn swiftly walked ahead beside the machine, wearing a smile of excitement and a heart of adventurous hope for a cure with her non-working vocal cords.

Smola smiled. "Tissues of the human body needs oxygen molecules to work. Additional oxygen molecules help damaged tissue for healing. Oxygen molecules at high pressure atmosphere enhances tissue function and fight infection. In hyperbaric oxygen treatment, inside the decompression chamber, the air pressure is increased by three times higher than normal air pressure. Inside the chamber, through breathing the pure oxygen molecules, the two human lungs gather more oxygen molecules and releases into the blood stream, carrying more oxygen molecules throughout the body. This chemical process fights bacteria and stimulates growth factors and stem cells which promotes healing properties." She stopped the rolling machine and stood inside a wide, high archway beside her new patient Fawn and stared into a semi-dark, square shaped room. The hyperbaric chamber room displayed four steel walls without a glass window view of the bright sunlight or grove of trees or a single piece of cheery art work. Along the solid steel wall, a column of individual machines stood alone and frightening which was designed as a tall and lounge white tinted lounge chair with a foot stool. Inside the leather of the chair, an outer space suit in white hue sat like a person without the outer space helmet. The outer space helmet stood behind the back rest on top of a machine tower in black metal that displayed an assortment of colorful buttons, gadgets, and switches that operated the equipment.

Smola pointed into the room and followed each wall. "This room is designed to accommodate several patients at one time here inside my medical office outpatient setting. You are not required to become admitted into the hospital setting. Each funny-looking, supersized chair is an independent hyperbaric chamber chair for a patient that does not enjoy lying down on the job. The chair controls are located in the rear of the furniture that is cabled down into the floor. The Halloween costume inside the leather seat is the actually an individual hyperbaric chamber suit that the patient wears over their entire human body, sitting upright in the lounge chair for comfort. Then, the human bone skull is covered in a clear outer space helmet, sorta like an outer space astronaut there inside the stationary chamber chair without floating off the floor in the air," she laughed. "The oxygen molecules flow into the sealed helmet and bombards the human face as the patient breathes in one hundred pure oxygen that quickly floods both of the human lungs and then releases pure oxygen molecules quickly into the blood stream healing the body fast with the fastest medical treatment protocol in the world," she tossed both of her hands in the air and chuckled with amusement. Fawn continued to stand in awe and viewed each scary piece of modern day medical equipment.

Smola dropped both of her hands and slapped each leg, which was covered in a set of purple tinted surgery scrubs, smiling into the room." In the middle of the room, six huge hyperbaric oxygen chambers or a modern day decompression chamber stands alone and wears a clear plastic set of curved walls or decompression tube, where the patient lies down on top of the slightly elevated table for the hyperbaric oxygen treatment procedure," she turned and stared down at the light brown hair roots. "Fawn, before you begin your hyperbaric oxygen treatment, I need to inquire about your medical state." Fawn looked up and stared at the medical physicians. Smola asked. "Do you experience the sensation of confinement anxiety or claustrophobia when you are confided inside a tiny room? Do you experience any type of middle ear baro-trauma infection, right now? Do you possess sinus pain due to an upper respiratory tract infection or an allergic rhinitis, right now? Did you acquire the common cold or exhibit a forehead fever within the past few days? Do you possess a lung disease? Do you exhibit any type of heart problems? Are you wearing hair, or face, or body cosmetic products which are made from petroleum jelly?" Fawn shook her curls in silence at each posed medical question.

Smola clapped with delight and nodded with a smile. "I did not think so either. But I had to ask as dictated by some higher entity than me and God," she laughed out loud and pointed down at a steel made side table with a tall stack of papers. "Over there on that table, there is a paper form of a medical release sheet that you must sign, releasing me from any damage, destruction or destroyed body parts on your body per my highly paid lawyers. Else, you can't sleep inside one of my hyperbaric chamber tubes. Thus, you can leave without fear but wonderment of healing your medical condition."

Fawn nodded to the physician and spun around, grabbing the top stack of papers, swiftly reading most of the sentences. she understood the legal document prevented the physician from getting sued if her body became maimed or mangled or mutated from the medical procedure. Fawn was not worried. She had heard of hyperbaric oxygen treatment protocol coming from the television with other patients. The outcomes were very good for a sick patient. But she had promised to always read through all legal documents before signing for Ace. She wished that Ace was here with her, but this experimental procedure was a surprise, if her set of damaged vocal cords could be cured or treated or healed in one swift treatment. Then she could gab and talk and sing with Ace for hours, finding her personal voice. She wondered if her girly voice spoke in soprano or alto timber.

The stack of stapled papers displayed numerous lines in black tint that included numerous medical terms including AIDS/HIV, allergies, arthritis, asthma, autism, Bell's palsy, brain injury, cancer cells, Cerebral palsy, chronic fatigue syndrome, cirrhosis, depression, fibromyalgia, gastrointestinal, heart disease, heat stroke, hepatitis, migraine, multiple sclerosis, Parkinson's disease, spinal cord injury, sports injury and brain stroke. Fawn continued to read through the legal words in silence.

Smola continued to explain with a smile. "The hyperbaric oxygen therapy is a safe procedure, but a complication is rare thing with a risk, including temporary nearsightedness that affects temporary eye lens changes. Middle ear injuries include leaking fluid and eardrum rupture due to the increased air pressure. Lung collapse caused by air pressure changes. A series of body seizures happen from too much oxygen toxicity in your central nervous system. Finally, a fire could occur inside the hyperbaric chamber due to the pure oxygen-rich environment. Or a fire could start in the air from your body, if your biological body is covered in a petroleum-based hair gel or body lotion." Fawn looked up and gasped in alarm, staring at the physician with worry.

Smola smiled with a nod. "But don't worry about a fire inside or outside the hyperbaric chamber unit! There is a tiny slight personal risk that I must mention. Else, you cannot enter into one of the hyperbaric chamber suits or tubes. Have you finished reading through the document? If so, you need to sign in your hand writing with the current date and time."

She finished reading most of the complex sentences without legal advice from Ace, flipping to the last page, leaning over the steel table and signed and dated the document. She stood upright and wiggled the papers in front of her face. Smola reached out and snatched up the legal document, flipping through the pages for any errors, smiling down at the signature, looking up to see Fawn and tucked the stack of papers underneath her armpit. "All right! I am ready and you are ready." Smola pressed the button and moved ahead inside the machine, stopping at the first hyperbaric chamber tube, pointing down at a small chest of black hue. "Due to the bombardment of pure oxygen molecules inside the chamber tube, a spark of fire or individual flame could ignite from the fuel. Remove all jewelry items, your personal mobile telephone, a cigarette lighter or any type of battery-powered devise from your person and place down inside a lead-lined drawer for your safety and security. I ask each patient to place their personal possession including their purse or wallet and car fogs or car keys down inside the same drawer for safety and security also. The bottom drawer is locked with a numeric code during your treatment protocol. Do you feel comfortable removing your personal possessions from our body?"

Fawn nodded with understanding and started removing her diamond ring and her two stub earrings from her body, placing them down inside her purse, squatting down and dropped her purse down into the drawer. She didn't want to catch her body on fire, missing her wedding ceremony with Ace, next week. she smiled at her silly nervous mental thoughts but was desperate to find a cure for her non-functioning vocal cords, slowly standing upright from the floor, turning to nod to the physician.

Smola smiled and pointed at the first chamber. "It is time for your hyperbaric oxygen treatment. I am going to place you inside the center tube on the first row. Inside the tube, the normal breathable air pressure will increase three times and bombard your face, surrounding your body, entering your lungs. Breathe normally. As a matter of fact, you can fall sleep, if you feel comfortable. The increased air pressure creates a temporary feeling of fullness in both of your eardrums, like flying on a commercial airplane at a higher elevation. Just yawn or swallow your saliva, then your eardrums will pop as the pressurized air balances your biological body and increases inside the chamber tube. Your oxygen treatment will last for two hours. The current time is 09:24 in the morning. Once you are inside the tube, you will stay there breathing in numerous pure oxygen molecules and as your body floats up at three atmospheres above normal and then slowly comes back down to the Earth plain, until 11:30 am. Once your treatment is over, you will feel tired and hungry for food following your treatment protocol, after coming out from the chamber. Go ahead and climb inside. On the front end, there are a tiny set of steps for reaching the latch door. Slowly push the glass door open and then crawl inside, twisting around, placing your body vertically facing the metal wall. The metal wall serves two purposes. One, the steel-based walls keeps the room and the entire building cooler from the summertime heated temperatures and each chamber tube sterile from dangerous body germs. Second, the metal wall is always a continuous television screen that wraps around the entire room. The television screen will display a moving picture of various objects including a mountain peak or a lush forest with wild animals or a dude ranch with horses and other pretty environments. You can elect to watch the moving screen or go into a cat nap slumber during the treatment. It's your draw. Climb inside the tube, Fawn!"

Fawn wore a soft fabric in pink tinted linen consisting of a pair of walking shorts, a matching sleeveless blouse, and a pair of matching pink tinted flat leather sandals for her new medical treatment. She didn't know how much walking or crawling would be required with instructions coming from the medical physician. She removed her shoes and then easily climbed each step, stopping in front of the circular glass window feeling both scared and excited, reaching out, gently pushing the door open without sound. The door swung inward and exposed a slightly elevated table at the head rest which was covered in a soft white tinted blanket. She crawled head first inside until her body stood on both palms and kneecaps on top of the thick, soft blanket, slowly spinning around, resting her body on her back spine and fanny. she stretched out in a vertical pose lying down on top of the blanket, without closing her two eyelashes, staring at the steel-coated ceiling. Her pumping active heart was trying to leap through her chest cavity into the air waves. Her wrist pulse raced along with her series of continuous silence mental thoughts with finally speaking her first spoken word, since the age of two weeks old as a newborn baby, before the terrible act from her hateful and crazy biological mother.

Inside the hyperbaric oxygen chamber, an alto voice spoke into the tube to Fawn. "Hello, Fawn. This is Smola. Are you okay? If so, please lift your hand and show me the thumbs up sign." Fawn obeyed and then dropped her hand back down onto her chest. Smola said. "I saw your thumbs up sign. I am okay. You are okay. The ceiling metal screen is starting now, playing a riverboat scene down the Mississippi River to entertain your active and scared neurons. I am closing the hatch door and locking you inside the chamber tube. the door will quietly close and then softly pop indicating that you are sealed into your tomb for two hours. Once I start the process, if you feel panicked, then you can shout out loud with fear. I will stop increasing the air pressure and then slowly depressurize the air back down to the normal human atmosphere. But this will take time to get you out. Are you ready?" Fawn lifted up and displayed a single thumbs up sign again for a positive response as she could not verbally confirm with Smola. Smola smiled. "I am ready. You are ready. I am pressing the button and starting to decrease the air pressure. When your eardrums become full, just swallow or yawn with your mouth. Your eardrums will pop and then you will fill fine."

In the hyperbaric oxygen chamber, Fawn wiggled her fingers on one hand with excitement and nervousness, hearing the release of air molecules, inhaling the pure oxygen and then exhaled the used carbon dioxide molecules. She continued to breathe deeply and calmed her excited neurons and nerve endings, seeing the riverboat on the ceiling metal screen. The riverboat did not show any guests only slowly paddling down the calm river waters in the bright sunrays and rolls of white tinted clouds, viewing the thick, lush forestland on each side of the river bank. Her two eyelids started to gently shut down over each one of her eyeballs and as she continued to breathe deeply, relaxing both her body and her mind. Then she drifted off for a catnap with a smirk of hope.

One hour and thirty minutes later, at 11:01 am, at the USA military Coast Guard base, in the court room setting, in front of the judge's bench, Ace slammed the gavel down for fun and sneered at the guilty prisoner. "Guilty! You are discharged, dishonorably, from the Army, civilian. Get him outta of my military court room and toss his ass onto the streets of Mobile."

"Yes, sir!" The lead military police officer smartly said and reached out, grabbing onto the arm of the new civilian female, spinning the woman around, escorting her from the court room with his partner.

The double doors closed shut. The court room remained quiet. ace typed the final notes on the computer laptop about the last soldier's punishment.

On the last row, Abby patiently watched and waited for this quiet moment, scanning the room, turning to see the double doors. The doors did not slam open. She slowly stood upright from the hard pew and returned back, seeing Ace, grabbing the heavy picnic basket and scooted away from the last pew bench, slowly advancing with a smirk towards Ace.

Ace continued to type his notes on the keyboard while his senses queued with annoyance, seeing Abby advance. She stopped and stood beside the prosecution table, placing the basket on top of the clean surface, removing each wrapped dish of delicious home-cooked food while humming a happy musical song.

In front of the judge's bench, Ace finished his tasked and wished for another legal interruption inside the quiet court room. His two best friends and close co-workers, Slick and Buck, were out of the court house building, filling out the pages of paperwork for their individual resignation from the USA Coast Guard military branch, tomorrow at the close of business. So, Ace was alone and not ready to face an annoying Abby, who had prepared a nicely home-cooked meal by her paid house staff for the lunch meal this afternoon. He slowly stood upright from the padded chair and slipped off the official royal blue tinted judge's robe, dropping the item over the leather seat, scooting down each step, like a death march, and then stood on top of the polished wooden floor. he slowly approached Abby, who stood beside the table and flirted with Ace, pointing at the prepared dishes of food.

Then he halted in place and exhaled with nervousness. Abby was here inquiring about Fawn, who was his fiancé and a mysterious girl among the social gang of southern dumb-belles. Ace did not want to discuss his girl and her unique background with anyone including a busybody formal high school girlfriend.

Ace swiftly approached the prosecution table and wore a fake happy smile, and then stopped, pulling out the chair, sliding down into the hard seat, winking at the woman. "Hey, Trixie! Where is your two sisters named Dixie and Pixie?" He reached out for each spoonful of food, piling a large stack of individual food items over a gigantic plate and stared eating the good food. If his mouth was full, then his words would be muffled from her healthy eardrums.

Trixie slid down and sat across from Ace smiling at his face, "You're such a tart, Ace. You have been extremely busy, this morning..."

"This afternoon, too, I hope!" He mumbled and chewed at the same time, spitting out chewed food particles over his food plate, the clean table surface, in the air while missing any body part on the annoying female.

She gasped in shock "What! I didn't catch your word with mouthful of food."

"I know," he continued to eat.

"Ace, I was wondering here. I mean, I was curiosity here, also. I met that girl named Fawn the other day on Saturday at the church campus."

"No, you didn't." He ate the food while mumbling.

"I enjoyed our visit together. She is a nice girl. Where did that girl named Fawn come from? I do not recognize her sur-name from the Mobile register. Whose her daddy?"

The Mobile Register is the current newspaper vendor around the town. The newspaper was founded in the year 1813, after the town of Mobile was captured by the United States soldiers in the month of April in the year 1813, where the city of Mobile had been ruled by the Spanish kingdom for 33 years.

In the 1839, the newspaper was produced three days per week due to the yellow fever epidemic. In the year 1861, the Mobile Register carried the beginning conflicts of the Civil War until the bloody end. The newspaper company is the oldest in the state.

"None of your business." He mumbled with food in his mouth.

"Did you say Nance or Newt? Is that her daddy's name? I do not recall meeting a Nance in our social circle. Did that girl Fawn Nance attend our high school? O no! She didn't attend our school campus. I would have remembered her in my all of my classes. So, which high school did she attend? How old is she? "

"You don't need to know." He mumbled with more food items inside his mouth.

She frowned. "Don. Dominic. Dominic Christian School. Yes, I know the school. I mean, I know the name of the school. I might know some students, old students there." Trixie nodded with a wicked grin. "Yes, I can inquire with that new information. Her name is Nance and she attended Dominic Christian School."

He swallowed the food and then laughed out loud, reaching for the beverage, slurping down the sweet tea. Ace understood. Trixie came here to collect information about Fawn Fong, probably using for bad intentions but he was not worried.

Good luck, doll! I don't know everything about Fawn Fong either, but I am still going to marry her finding all of that secret information throughout our wonderfully wedded years of marriage bliss.

Ace continued to eat the good food nodding to Trixie.

She cleared her throat and smiled at Ace. "Ace, I was wondering..."

At 11:31 am, inside the hyperbaric chamber room, inside the clear tube, Fawn appeared restful and asleep on top of the blanket and as the sound pure oxygen floated around her body.

The female voice echoed into the tube. "Awake. Awake. Awake, Fawn!"

Fawn heard the words and wiggled her grounded body, stretching both of her arms and legs up from the blanket, plopping the limbs back down on the fabric and shook her body. She slowly sat upright without hitting her hair roots on the glass tube, twisting around, facing the hatch door. The door automatically opened wide. She slowly crawled over the blanket with excitement and carefully climbed down each step, standing on the floor, staring at Smola.

Smola nodded to Fawn. "Your clinical treatment is finished. Please grab your personal possessions from the last drawer inside the supply tower, before I complete my physical examination on your biological body. And follow me back into the third examination room for your finally evaluation." She pressed the button and swung the machine away from Fawn, slowly rolling over the smooth floor, exiting the chamber room.

Fawn gasped in shock and cleared her throat, feeling dry, desiring a glass of water and squatted down, opening the drawer and grabbed her purse. She stood upright with excitement and continued to clear her dry throat, swiftly dashing from the chamber room, down an empty hallway and entered the previous examination room. Smola inside the upright standing board stood in the middle of the empty room facing the other upright standing board in silence.

Fawn scooted around the machine and stopped, spinning around to face Smola while clearing her dry throat. Smola handed Fawn a paper cup of cool fresh water. Fawn accepted and gulped down the water, smoothing her dry throat, finishing the liquid and removed the wet paper cup from her lips. She smiled and nodded to Smola, holding her throat with nervousness.

Smola nodded with a smile. "All right! Your clinical treatment was successful. You feel tired and hungry from your only medical treatment, but you have tasted the cool water. Talk to me! Describe your experiment inside the decompression chamber!"

She exhaled with nervousness and wiggled side to side, clearing her throat, still cupping her neckline and parted her lips, wiggling her tongue and pushed on her vocal cords. No sound emitted from her wet throat. She closed her mouth and swallowed the mouth saliva coating her throat, parting her lips and pushed her vocal cords again. No sound emitted from her tongue again. She rocked back and forth holding her sad tears of disappointment, without producing a terrible scene of crying, staring at Smola Nosser for an answer.

Inside the Unirider machine, Smola Nosser, MD exhaled with frustration and looked down at the active computer tablet, checking her specific computer results from the hyperbaric chamber unit, shaking her curls. "I am greatly disappointed."

Fawn continued to stand in place and mentally echoed the same mind thought.

huh! you are greatly disappointed.

Smola typed on her personal mobile telephone while talking to Fawn. "I love the internet. I love the mobile telephone also. And I am not giving up on you, Fawn. I cannot help your lack of sound or grunts or words or giggles. So, I am typing to my medical colleague. She is an otolaryngologist. An otolaryngologist treats issues with the ears, the nose, and the throat as well as areas in your head and neck. Dr. Nall McCoo. She is not located in this building. I am afraid that you need to drive to her medical office." Fawn nodded with a smile in silence. He continued. "But she is the best otolaryngologist in the city. I do believe that she can help your inactive set of vocal cords. I am sending her a mobile text and all of your medical records for her quick assessment and then provide you a new treatment plan for your medical condition. All right! I am done. Your next appointment is scheduled at 12:15 pm. She is booked with appointment for the afternoon but can see you during her lunch break. So, get going and good luck to you, Fawn!"

Fawn nodded with a smile and felt a little confidence in the next physician's examination, quickly exiting the medical office, dashing back to her sports car inside the enclosed parking garage. She was becoming closer to solving the mysterious medical issue with her vocal cords and would surprise Ace when she could mutter the words, I love you, with her tongue in his face, not her mental thoughts, in his mind. She slid down into her smooth driver's seat and pressed the navigational system that talked to her face, which was so ironic that a machine could speak, but a human could not. Fawn listened to the navigational program and carefully followed the new city street signs, heading towards a new medical office with the next medical physician for another heated day in the month of July.

At 12:02 pm, she arrived inside the cool parking garage spotting an empty spot on the fourth floor level, killing the engine, sliding out from her sports car. She quickly strolled through the garage level and entered a new set of interior walls in bright tan with a row of individual white sand and light brown dune that represented the shoreline of Orange Beach, stopping in front of the elevator doors, pressing the button. Fawn rocked back and forth thinking about Ace, wishing for a wonderful surprise before their upcoming wedding ceremony. She was getting closer to curing her damaged vocal cords or finding out if they were permanently injured. Either way, she wanted an answer which dictated her love marriage relationship with her future husband Ace.

The door slid open and revealed a small group of people. She entered and then spun around facing the lobby, pressing the fourth floor, standing upright with a hopeful grin. The door slid closed. The elevator stopped at the next floor while people shuffled around Fawn. The elevator doors closed again. The carriage slowly lifted upwards to the fourth floor. The door slid open.

Fawn strolled from the carriage and observed the same hallway design in white sand grains and light brown dunes, passing a few glass doors with the printed of the medical physician, stopping before the end of the hallway and moved through a new glass door with the name Nall McCoo, MD.

Fawn stopped in front a new glass window and presented the same, wrinkled sheet of paper. No one made a sound behind the solid glass. She continued to stand and fidgeted sideways with excitement, seeing a new medical physician. Still, the receptionist did not make a sound. Fawn dropped the sheet of paper and stared down onto an empty desk with an empty office chair, frowning with disappointment.

The side door slammed open and revealed a smiling face. The female presented a tall, slender body frame, displaying a head of short black tinted hair, a pair of dark irises, and a tone of dark skin, holding a portal computer tablet in one hand. "Hello! Are you Fawn? My name is Dr. Nall McCoo. It's very nice to meet and greet you during the lunch hour. My staff have left for the lunch meal and will be back at work at one o'clock. Come on back this way with me! You and I can chat inside one of the examination room. Believe or not! I do know my way around my physician suite." She turned into the first examination room with tan walls and a sand dune theme and stopped beside the short stood, sitting down, looking down and quickly typed at the keyboard on the portal computer tablet. "Go ahead and climb onto the examination table, Fawn! All of your previous medical physicians were kind enough sending me all of your previous medical chart information. I will require a few minutes here to read through each diagnosis and the treatment protocol, and then the final result," she silently read through the new materials and then looked up shaking her curls with a sour frown, "Well, your family practitioner didn't have a clue about your medical condition by sending you to a medical psychiatrist. What for? The branch of psychology is devoted to studying, identifying and treating medical disorders and mental illnesses. One hundred years ago, the ancient psychiatrist was called an alienist. An alienist was an expert in the field of mental illnesses that evaluates an innocent, not guilty defendant in a court of law, who is now called the new term, a forensic psychologist. Whatever! I'm getting off the subject matter here. An alienist talked about the little tiny aliens running around the interior gray matter within a mental-challenged human, which is not you. And the alienist is the sister-in-law to the family practitioner. Figures! Keep it in the family offers a new modern day meaning. The family practitioner misdiagnosed your hidden medical condition. I can see with my two medically trained eyeballs that you are not an alcoholic person either. Your button nose is not red tinted. Your abdomen is not bloated. And your hands don't shake like a blender kitchen appliance. Those are familiar target signs of an active alcoholic. You must have very good health insurance monies that pays for numerous clinical services," she laughed with a nod and then looked down, reading more of the medical chart from the other physicians. "Well, you were seen by Papillion Aldrey, medical physician. He is a very oncologist treating all type of sick patients with cancer cells, that cannot be cured." She looked up and nodded. "I find it funny also that the medical physician has two titles, an oncologist and a hematologist, that are always joined together at the hip bone," she laughed. "I guess you learned the role of a hematologist, the one who studies blood disorders, which are not related to the growing damaging cancer cells. Papillion gets bored with all of his dying patients and likes treating other people that live out a full life in pain. Sickle Cell disease is not pretty, and everyone dies in pain or on drugs. A blood disorder is painful with weekly or bi-weekly flushing of eight pints of human blood through the human biological system. Ouch! I'm glad that I'm healthy. Thrombosis blood disorder is another painful condition. I guess Papillion likes to see painful patients," she laughed. "That's a good one!" She exhaled with sorrow. "I guess I was become disenchanted if all of my patients died too." She chuckled. "Actually, I enjoy listening to the internet recordings and have learned that the US Federal Government has a cure for all cancer cells and other genetic diseases, but it does not wanna share and spread the word. No matter to me! The sick patients keep me employed. If all of the sick peoples in the world were cured in one day from their individual medical issue, then I'll become obsolete and unemployed, without living on the beach and riding around in my racing yacht on the weekends." she laughed.

Fawn faked a smile without insulting the physician and as she could not talk to do that, mentally pondering her worried thoughts.

**o my! i wonder if i should leave this crazy and insane medical physician**.

McCoo smiled with a wink. "But that's our secret." she looked down and read more of the medical chart records, returning back to see Fawn. "You had busy day yesterday, seeing a set of incompetent medical physicians, who took your monies. Well, the insurance monies paid for each one of your medical office visits. However, today is a new day. You saw my good friend Smola Nosser and her Unirider. Smola lives in the science fiction work and has created a science fiction theater using all of the outer space suits and tubes. The hyperbaric oxygen treatment is truly remarkable and works on a scrub diver and some sick patients, if you have unhealed open wound infection from your non-curable diabetes. However, the number of wound infections increase as your non-curable diabetes disease increases. So, what's the point of hyperbaric oxygen treatment when the non-curable diabetes is going to get you, soonest or later," she laughed. "The hyperbaric oxygen treatment will cure carbon monoxide poisoning, if you don't die from the poisonous gas first, before your biological body can driver and arrive and then get into a decompression chamber. Talk about arriving alive! The rest of the proposed cures inside an outer space tube really is based on the health of the patient, not the sickness of the patient. And you must overlook all of the medical facts that sucking down in one hundred percent pure oxygen molecules causes your two eyeballs to bloat in-between your temples or your middle ear to explode inside the eardrum or your two lungs to collapse from the massive oxygen input or a set of seizures within your nervous system due to the bombardment of pure oxygen molecules. Smola is a trained physician and she had received all of your medical chart information before allowing you into the outer space chamber. She didn't really believe that the hyperbaric oxygen treatment would could a damaged vocal cord. Her outer space theater of suits and tubes is really an experimental room which is one hundred percent paid by the US Federal Government, well each US citizens through their involuntary tax dollars. Smola will not charge your insurance company for your medical visit in her office. She receives monies through the experiment procedure on each test subject, you." She chuckled with amusement.

Fawn gasped in shock and then faked a smile, nodding with the strange medical physician, staring at McCall while mentally pondering with her silence thoughts.

well, that shared information come late into my two non-damaged eardrums. i was a test subject for smola. i should report her to ace. he would not approve, but i am here on a secret mission, solving my medical mystery, so i cannot tattle to anyone.

McCoo smiled and placed her portable computer tablet on the side table, nodding to Fawn, slapping her chest. "Let me tell about myself. I..."

Fawn wanted to roll her two eyeballs that were not bloated with annoyance. She didn't want to hear another lecture about an array of medical physicians or the diverse medical field with different medical specialties. She wanted a smart medical physician to figure out and then fix her medical issue, a non-working vocal cord.

McCoo nodded. "Your bone skull with or without the hair strands is treated by an array of medical physicians. A neurologist figures out problems with your brain or your nervous system. An ophthalmologist deals with your two eyeballs and your vision issues. I am called an otolaryngologist or an ear, nose and throat medical physician. I attended and graduated four years of medical school and five years of special training for the ear, nose and throat medical problems. After my intense training, I passed an examination for a certificate by the American Board of Otolaryngology. Within the field of otolaryngology, there are numerous medical specialties."

Fawn did not roll her eyeballs but mentally thought really hard trying to send her mind thoughts into the active busy gray matter on Nall McCoo, without success.

i hate the word, specialties. please, no more lecturing. please figure out and fix my damaged or sore or injured vocal cords.

McCoo nodded. "An allergy physician treats environmental allergies such like plant pollen and doggie pet danger with medication or a series of medication shots immune or dull the allergy on the sick patient. This physician can also help identify a food allergy that your body is reacting too. A facial and constructive surgeon performs cosmetic surgery such like, a face lift or a nose job, correcting people with a genetic deformity on the face or coming from a man-made accident that hit the face also. A head, neck medical physician locates and removes a tumor in your nose, sinuses, mouth, throat, voice box or upper esophagus. A laryngologist, that's me. I treat diseases and injures affecting your voice box or larynx and the vocal cords, which I will going today."

Fawn continued to nod occasionally and stopped with her fake smile, pondering her mental thoughts.

do it now! i do not have all day long, if you do not find a cure or a problem or an issue. i must be home by four pm, before the gang of pretty southern bells finish decorating the walls, the ceiling, and the floor for the upcoming silly bridal party and ace comes home, before me.

McCoo nodded. "Also, I can diagnose and treat swallowing problems. too. An otologist deals with ear problems and performs surgery, if needed, treating medical conditions, involving infections; hearing loss; trouble with balance or dizziness; the ringing in the eardrums, buzzing in the eardrums which is called tinnitus. A rhinologist concentrates on your nose and sinuses treating sinusitis, nose bleeds, loss of smell, stuffy nose, and usual growths. A neurotologist identifies nose and nasal issues, such like, allergies, sinusitis, and growths. Throat difficulties include tonsillitis, difficulty swallowing and voice issues, which is why you are here today.

The newest medical field sleep medicine allows an Ear, Nose, and Throat medical physician to specialize in sleep problems when you breathe. A hospital setting provides a tiny bed, where the patient can actually go to sleep with a machine and record the number of times that you stop breathing. Isn't that cool?"

Fawn gasped in shock and then nodded with a fake smile.

that is scary! this physician is scary too.

McCoo nodded with a smile. "Sleep troubles like snoring or obstructive sleep apnea that blocks the airway while breathing during sleep. The two medical physicians treat infections or remove cancerous tumors from your head or neck. Finally ..."

Fawn nodded with a smile and mentally thought inside her head.

finally ...

McCoo nodded. "A pediatric otolaryngologist specializes in children. Historically, in the 19th century, a group of smart physicians identified that the eardrums, two nose holes, and the throat was connected by a system of tubes and passageways throughout the head. Thus, the new medical field of otolaryngology was formed.

Fawn nodded several times and continued to smile at the physician.

that's great. now, figure out and then fix my non-working vocal cords.

McCoo nodded. "I usually treat sick adult patients, who are eighteen years old and older with ear infections, tonsillitis, asthma, and allergies. I am not a pediatric ENT and do not handle any children. But a pediatric ENT can repair birth defects on the head and the neck of a child, which is remarkable, and the medical physician can help a child with a speech or language problem. I am letting you own that, in case, you know of any children with difficulties. Now ..."

Fawn smiled with a nod and mentally thought within her active mind.

now...

McCoo reached out and grabbed the computer tablet, looking down, typing on the keyboard. "Now, I am going ask you a series of medical questions. I know the answer, but you must confirm my answer while I both record my voice and your nod on my nifty computer tablet devise." Fawn wiggled side to side with excitement producing a set of funny noises on the wrinkled sheet of paper underneath her fanny, feeling happy now. McCoo looked up and smiled at her new patient. "You have permanent medical condition on your vocal cord. I want to know the answer to this question. Has another medical physician identified that you possess nodules on the vocal cord or exhibit a spasmodic dysphonia or received another permanent scarring from a body injury or possess any type of tumor on, in, or near your vocal cords?'

Fawn lifted her hand. McCoo nodded. "I am not talking about the hand injury coming from your wicked biological mother." Fawn shook her curls in silence. The physician nodded. "Now, I must tell you that the vocal cords also change as you age. The vocal cords start to deteriorate. However, you are a young person and your vocal cords should still work, once I figure out the clinical issue." Fawn nodded with a smile. McCoo exhaled with worry. "The first topic of discussion is the scary thoughts of cancer cells." Fawn gasped in shock and continued to stare at the physician.

McCoo nodded. "Thyroid cancer is relatively uncommon here in the great USA. Thyroid cancer is the tenth most common type of cancer, not as common as breast and lung cancers. However, thyroid cancer is the most common type of endocrine cancer, but the diagnosis of thyroid cancer is rising, becoming easier to find and then treat. In the human body, the thyroid gland is part of the endocrine system. The endocrine system produces hormones regulating the body. The thyroid gland is tiny, butterfly-shaped object at the base of the throat with a left and a right lobe. The gland regulates metabolism, blood pressure, heart rate, body temperature and body weight. Now, early detection of thyroid cancer has no body or physical symptoms. You cannot find or feel a healthy thyroid gland, only a sick. As the cancer in the thyroid gland progresses, the patient experiences a limp in the throat, coughing fits, hoarseness, pain in the throat and the neck area, difficulty swallowing, and a set of swollen lymph nodes in the neck. High risk of the cancer cells includes a family history of thyroid cancer or breast cancer or a risk factor over forty years old age. You are not forty years of age. Does a history of thyroid or breast cancer run in your biological family unit on either side of your parents?" Fawn shook her curls in silence.

The physician nodded. "That addresses one part of my medical question. Thyroid cancer cells appear like healthy cells which are called well-differentiated cells. A set of well-differentiated cells grow at a slower rate inside the human body. The most common type of thyroid cancer cells is papillary which is seen in women of childbearing age, that would be you. This type of cancer is less dangerous and spreads slower and it is treatable. A second type of thyroid cancer cells is medullary, which involves a genetic component of the endocrine glands. A set of anaplastic cancer cells is rare and difficult to treat in the thyroid gland on a sick human. Follicular thyroid cancer spreads quickly and then recurrent form of nasty cancer cells. Thyroid lymphoma is a rear type of cancer and occurs in the immune cells which are located in the thyroid gland. Now, I have identified all of the thyroid cancer cells which could be present in the human thyroid gland. You have mentioned that the history of cancer does not run in your family unit, but I am going to examine your neck, feeling your lymph nodes." Fawn did not stir. The physician reached out and gently probed on Fawn's neck without sound, removing both of her gloved hands, nodding with a smile. "I do not feel a small or large mass or lump on your neck in the location of your thyroid gland. However, I would like to take a vile of your blood from your left arm and then send the blood proteins down to my private laboratory there at the hospital for processing. I am going run a set of medical procedures from your blood checking your calcium, phosphorous and calcitonin levels in your blood. Also, a thyroid function test will indicate if your papillary or follicular gland presents any type of cancer cells. Now, if one of the blood tests comes back positive, then I will contact you immediately. Are you ready?" The physician held up a needle and the arm cord. Fawn nodded with a worried brow, dropping her down on top of the small table, turning to face the side wall and looked at the tiny spider web. The brown tinted tiny spider was eating well collecting all of the runaway ants from a tiny cracked plaster seam inside the corner wall.

The physician punched the skin and as Fawn jumped, without sound. McCoo was quick and pulled out the blood proteins, sealing off the vile, storing the tube in the slot, jerking out the needle.

Fawn exhaled the set of sour breathes and returned back, looking at the small puncture on her neck. The physician covered the wound quickly with a tan bandage, looking up with a smile. "Let us continue! Now, if your laboratory tests come back positive and you are diagnosed with thyroid cancer, then I can remove the infected part of the thyroid gland that produces the vile thyroid hormones." Fawn gasped in alarm and covered her throat, shaking her curls at the nutty medical physician. McCoo smiles. "Well, I am jumping the gun here. If you possess thyroid cancer cells, you can try oral supplements and other medical treatments, such like, radioactive iodine, external laser beam radiation therapy treatments and chemotherapy drugs. On the infected humans, early stages of thyroid cancer responses well to drug treatments and usually goes into remission. The root cause of thyroid cancer is not known at this time, other than medullary thyroid cancer is inherited from mommy, daddy, grandma, grandpa. However, medical studies have determined people living a nuclear power plant of radiation outputs are more likely to develop thyroid cancer. Have you ever lived near a nuclear power plant with radiation beams, Fawn? Fawn shook her curls in silence. McCoo laughed. "Too bad! That would explain your medical case. Anyways, a physician can prescribe potassium iodine pills for your body, if you have to move near a nuclear radiation power plant. Don't forget that?" She laughed and then frowned at Fawn. "I really wanna perform an ultrasound on your thyroid gland, but all of my ultrasound staff is out to lunch and I am booked this afternoon. Maybe, we can do that next visit. I wanna see a thyroid scan with the cat scanner equipment, but you need an appointment at the hospital. I wanna see the results of a thyroid biopsy, but you need to go to the outpatient surgery center, where I stab the gland with a biopsy needle. And finally, I wanna perform a laryngoscope on your thyroid gland. If I get lucky, then I might get an opening tomorrow morning or afternoon at the hospital for a laryngoscope. I wanna prepare you, if I can schedule an appointment, Fawn. A laryngoscope is an outpatient procedure looking inside your larynx and throat by a medical physician. The larynx is your voice box and is located at the top of your windpipe or trachea. A healthy larynx contains your vocal folds or cords. Air molecules pass through your voice box and over each vocal fold causing the folds to vibrate and produce sound, granting you the ability to speak. During a laryngoscope procedure, you are lying in the hospital setting and completed sedated under general anesthesia or asleep under the expert supervision of an anesthetist. You do not feel any pain. A small, special, flexible telescope is inserted down your throat, which is called the laryngoscope. I look through the eye piece on the telescope and examine your larynx, collecting specimen samples, removing any growths or foreign objects while you are asleep. I will take a biopsy or skin sample of your larynx. Then I remove the telescope from your throat. You are still asleep and placed inside the recovery room waiting for the anesthesia drug to wear off from your body. I will check your body to ensure that you can talk and walk. The risk of complications for a laryngoscope medical procedure on a human is very low, but the patient will experience some minor irritation on the soft tissue in your throat for a few days, until the tissue is healed. Now, during the laryngoscope procedure, you will be asleep without experiencing any pain, I will make a tiny cut in the lymph node and place your specimen tissue inside a tube on the laryngoscope devise. This is called a laparoscopic biopsy. I will send the tissue specimen to the hospital laboratory and check for any cancer cells. That laboratory test will reveal the sickness of your throat."

Fawn continued to sit on top of the examination bed and wrinkled paper, holding her throat, shaking her curls at the crazy physician.

The physician nodded. "A laryngoscope takes 45 minutes not under the knife and reveals a foreign object in the throat that creates the medical conditions of a persistent cough, a bloody cough, hoarseness, throat pain, bad breath, difficulty swallowing, persistent earache, or a mass or growth in the throat. If you are scheduled for a laryngoscopic medical procedure, you need to avoid food and drinking for eight hours, before the anesthesia. you must stop taking aspirin and any type of blood thinning drugs, one week before the medical procedure. O! I guess we can't perform the laryngoscope procedure tomorrow morning. However, I can perform a battery of other clinical tests. I can perform a complete physical examination and a head cat scan picture. Then I can order a barium swallow medical procedure. The barium element is a drink mixture that acts as a contract material inside your throat allowing the physician to see the results through a chest X-ray digital film. The barium element in the drink is not toxic or dangerous to your human body and the mineral will pass within a few hours, after swallowing the yucky mixture." She laughed and as Fawn nodded with a stern face.

"I should receive all of your laboratory results, tomorrow afternoon. However, I cannot perform all of those other medical procedures, until after the Fourth of July holiday. The hospital administration pays a skeleton crew at the hospital on the Fourth of July holiday for an emergency and all of the hospital operating suites and clinics are closed down for the holiday also. The hospital interior is a ghost town. You can commit cold-blooded murder inside an empty hallway on the hospital campus and no one will hear you scream," she laughed alone. Fawn nodded with a slight fake smile at the weird woman.

The physician nodded. "Have you noted a change in your voice within six months or six weeks or six days ago?" Fawn shook her curls.

The physician said. "With all of the modern day throat therapies and surgeries, no person should possess and sustain permanent damage to their voice box. Your voice box is comprised of different body parts. If one of the body parts is messed up, then your voice is off balance. Do you acquire and keep a common cold, or numerous bouts of the common cold? Do you exhibit uncontrolled acid reflux, which impacts your vocal cords and other parts of your healthy body?" Fawn shook her curls in silence.

The physician nodded. "On common permanent damage to the voice box is vocal nodules, which are calluses on the voice folds which is caused by talking too loudly or singing harmonious or off-key musical songs. However, you have never talked, so I have ruled out vocal nodules. A second common permanent damage to the voice box is laryngitis which is damage to the voice box caused by loudly talking or singing or a viral infection. However, the family practitioner examined numerous body parts and found your biological body healthy and fit. So, I will rule out a viral infection. Do you smoke cigarettes or cigars or marijuana joints or performing the nasty vaping process with a set of electric cigarettes?" Fawn shook her curls in silence.

McCoo smiled. "I thought not either. A vocal polyp is a soft sort on the voice box which is called by inhaling irritants, such like, smoking." She spun around and placed the computer tablet on top of the side table, leaning over, washing her hands. She donned a pair of yellow deposable rubber gloves and a matching face mask, swinging around, lifting the stool even with the face on Fawn. She held her two hands in the air. "Open your mouth! I am going to examine your throat with my trained eyeballs and then my medical instrument. I am visually searching for a node or a polyp or a strain or a hemorrhaging blood vessel." Fawn closed her eyelashes and opened her mouth feeling better about this medical physician.

McCoo leaned over and touched the edges of Fawn's lips, stretching out the mouth opening, lecturing to Fawn. "A nod is a callus of skin that lingers on your vocal folds which perturbs the vibratory pattern, making it difficult for the person to sing or talk or speech normal. A polyp is a blister on one of your vocal folds which contains fluid inside the polyp skin. The blister wiggles when you sing or talk creating an inconsistence voice timber. A polyp causes your timber to work and then fail without a warning. I am looking for a strain or a pull of a muscle that holds the larynx in place. However, you would be feeling pain from a strained muscle on the voice box. Finally, a hemorrhage is a broken blood vessel. You have seen the same presentation in the eyeballs, when a person becomes injured with pair of blood-shot eyeballs. A hard cough or a terrible screen can break and bleed a blood vessel. One voice fold shuts down without pain, but your throat feels odd. Do you have pain in your throat, on your tongue, inside your mouth cheeks?" McCoo pulled back and stared at Fawn. Fawn closed her mouth and shook her curls in silence.

McCoo shook her curls and nodded with a stern face to Fawn. "I am not seeing any rupture in the vocal cord or any bleeding. That's good! I am not seeing a callus-like growth, which is called a nodule. That's good too! I am not seeing a sac-like bump of fluid or a polyp or a cyst on the vocal cord either. That's good also." Fawn gasped in shock and exhaled with disappointment.

McCoo smiled. "However, I have not finished my medical explanation, since I do not have any more clinical information available to me. If the laboratory tests come back negative, then you might have a foreign object lodged in your lower throat that might be blocking or interfering with your voice cords. But I have a solution for that also. Sometimes, a foreign object becomes lodged in the narrow airway in the lower throat which blocks your breathing while sleeping, but in your case, could be blocking your speech from your voice cords. The cause of the blockage varies in tissue type, but a medical procedure can modify the damaged skin tissues on the lower pharynx that might be obstructing your abnormal speech.

"One block could be the hyoid bone. The hyoid bone is a small C-shaped bone in the upper neck right above the Adam's apple bone cartilage. Numerous tongue and throat muscles are attached to the hyoid bone. The hyoid bone could be moved to increase air flow and then anchored by screws in the back of the chin. A second blockage could be your personal set of tonsils. Removing your tonsils relieves any type of air obstruction into the throat. A third blockage condition is the uvula, which is a portion of the soft palate, the tonsils, and excess tissue skin in the throat. That might be your issue, here, Fawn!" McCoo nodded with a smile. "Then I would perform an uvulopalatopharyngoplasty or UPPP medical procedure removing part of the upper pharynx on the palate."

Fawn didn't like hearing the different types of major surgery on her healthy mouth, tongue and throat skin tissues inside her mouth, just to speak a set of words. She will ponder all of these new medical procedures tonight, alone and lonely, without Ace.

McCoo chuckled with a smile to Fawn. "Well, I have one more medical procedure up my short sleeves. In the past, a tracheotomy procedure is a treatment for severe, life-threatening sleep apnea and breathing failure at night. Today, there are other modern medical and surgical alternatives, instead of cutting a slit into the neck skin tissue. A surgical hole in the skin on the neck through the windpipe below the voice box is called a tracheotomy medical procedure like superstar Hollywood starlet Elizabeth Taylor."

Fawn frowned at the smart medical physician in silence.

McCoo smiled. "In the year 1960, superstar Hollywood starlet Elizabeth Taylor was in the country of England filming the mega-move Cleopatra, where she was the lead actress. She developed a bout of fatal pneumonia with breathing problems, needing an emergency tracheotomy medical procedure inside her private suite. She nicely recovered and completed the Hollywood movie film, leaving to the age of almost 80 years old. So, the open hole in the naked neck bypasses the throat and does not block anything during sleep. Infections is a terrible risk for patient complications. But we will worry about that, if we need to go down that route." The physician laughed out loud with the simple medical procedure and as Fawn shook her curls with a stern face. "That's it! I wish both of us great luck for tomorrow morning. I assume, like the rest of us, millennials, who don't believe in patriotism, family children, and religion values, you live with your personal mobile telephone near your face," she chuckled again.

Fawn frowned at the nasty statement and shook her curls in silence, sliding down off the examination table, standing upright with a nod.

McCoo slowly stood upright from the stool and wiggled her personal mobile telephone near her smile. "I will communicate you by a series of text messages, once I receive your specific laboratory results from your blood test. How does that sound? Then you can enjoy your day, if you don't come and see me."

Fawn nodded with a smile and moved ahead with a sour frown, leaving the weird medical physician, pondering the bizarre visit, exiting the office setting. She swiftly moved down a busy hallway and left the building structure, reaching her sports car, driving back home with her secret mission, before the four o'clock deadline.
Wednesday, July 3rd

08:08 am

Home of Ace, daughter Gem, and fiancé Fawn

Heated day with bright sunlight

Ace was wearing his tan colored USA Coast Guard military uniform for the last time, exhaling with nervousness, stepping off the last wooden step from the staircase, smiling into the face of his future girl and his new future life. She was the reason for Ace leaving the military life and sailing away towards the sunset with his future wife, exploring all of the fun places on Planet Earth, before his death.

Fawn selected an outfit in pale yellow consisting of a pair of linen walking shorts, a matching sleeveless blouse with a column of cute bows, and a pair of matching flat sandals.

He pulled back and whispered a set sweet words to Fawn spinning them around, slowly padding ahead through an empty but ugly room with all of the tacky pirate decorations, moving ahead towards the closed front door.

The front door opened before Ace touched the handle.

Ace stepped back with a gasp and met the stranger with a growl, staring at his prime number one enemy of the world, Magritte. She was the second reason for Ace leaving the military life and sailing away towards the sunrise with his future wife, exploring all of the fun places on Planet Earth, away from her.

Ace understood that his grandfather was older and lonely but possessed poor taste buds, fashion sense, and choice of women. But his grandfather was happy and enjoyed the tart company, instead of lonely days and nights.

Ace turned from Magritte and leaned over, sweetly kissing on Fawn for a few seconds, pulling back with a smile. "Bye, honey!" He returned back and faked a smile to his step grandmother, where he would never reference that family title, "Bye, Gritty!" He moved around the old, wrinkled statue with a sneer and exited through the open archway with a smile, leaving his house, spotting his grandfather by the car. He waved his hand and veered towards his grandfather, standing on top of the manicured grass, chatting away the early morning hours. Ace was not required in the court room, this morning, and could spend a little time goofy off as this was his last day in the USA Coast Guard military branch. He felt both proud and sad that his career was ending but happy and excited that his new life was beginning.

His daughter Gem was gone all the time with her new sports car and her old high school friends enjoying the rest of the summertime days at the mall or at the entertainment complex, until the first day of high school on August 18th.

Inside the house, Fawn waved at the back spine on Ace and the smiling face on Granddaddy Smith, still standing a few feet inside the interior room, pondering their conversation. She hoped that Granddaddy Smith had not tattled of her leaving the house for some fake shopping time. But Granddaddy Smith understood the pressure that Fawn was facing with all of the southern belles and his rude wife Magritte.

Magritte moved ahead inside with a sour frown and veered towards the kitchen, hunting for a hot cup of fresh coffee. The cater staff was present and preparing the breakfast food items for the hunger southern belles.

Ace slapped the arm on his grandfather and nodded with a smile, spinning around, veering towards his personal car. He and Fawn had parked an individual vehicle on the city street, in case of an emergency. He entered the vehicle and waved back to Fawn, starting the engine for a few second, leaving the neighborhood for his last day at his military work job.

Attila slowly padded away from the car towards the house, stopped, and stood in front Fawn. Individual southern belles parked their individual vehicle and slowly invaded the house, scattering around the room, working on the food trays or work project.

Fawn spun around with Attila and slowly padded through the busy environment towards the patio floor and as Attila whispered into the face of Fawn with his funny words about some of the snobby southern bells. Fawn could not giggle but smiled with amusement. They exited the house and sat down on the same patio furniture pieces, staring at the manicured lawn and the active few small wild animals that played in the yard.

Inside the kitchen setting, Magritte continued to point at each hired and paid waiter and waitress, dictating the direction of each refreshment food and beverage trays while managing an army of southern belles, who were finishing the ugly decorations of the Pirate Bridal Shower on Friday afternoon.

On top of the patio surface, Fawn turned and smiled at Attila, listening to his chat. The patio door opened and revealed the male waiter, moving ahead towards the small wooden table, leaning down with a prepared dish of breakfast items without asking. He stood upright and nodded in silence to Attila and then Fawn, slowly back stepping from the table with a soft chuckle, spinning around to face the rear wall of windows and exited the patio area, moving back into the interior walls in the house.

Attila followed the back spine on the waiter and shouted out loud. "Wimpy Wussie arrives and then leaves again. Get a real work job, boy!" He hissed with annoyance and returned back, staring down at the pretty platter of breakfast item, looking up with a stern face at Fawn. "Did you order plate of breakfast foods?" Fawn smiled and shook her curls. He frowned. "Me, either! But I don't wanna the food to go to waste here. There are too many kids that starve in the world, without becoming grateful for a plate of food." He reached down with a smile and grabbed the food item, eating the food with a smile and a nod of enjoyment. Fawn continued to smile and nodded back to Attila.

At 08:15 am, on the USA Coast Guard military base, Ace sat in front of the prosecution table, not really selecting this table for any particular reason and leaned down signing the last page on the last set of exit papers for his co-worker and friend Buck. Buck and Slick stood between Ace watching the at the judge's bench working on the historical moment in time, when the air stopped and each one breathed out a set of sour breathes.

Each soldier was leaving the USA military service for a carefree, fun life with their family members.

Ace lifted up the last page on the paper and playfully blew his sour breathe on the dried blue tinted ink for fun, laughing out loud with his two buddies, dropping down the last page on the stack of papers. He shuffled the stack in proper order and straightened each page, lifting the entire stack of exit papers up towards Buck, still holding onto the loose sheets. He smiled with a nod. "You're outta of the army now, Buck."

"Boss, we all had worked for the Coast Guard for thirteen years." Slick laughed and wiggled his exit papers near his smile.

Good thing, Ace is retiring from the army, because they won't remember him anyways." Buck laughed out loud with his two friends and accepted the stack of exit papers, cuddling the stack into his chest. He was excited about his new employer, which was Ace, and his new work job helping all the kids within the city of Mobile graduate high school and get into college, improving their lives.

Ace was also providing a new vehicle, flexible office or non-office hours, and a two million dollar annual paycheck with a paid accountant and a financial planner, who worked together growing that bank account of two million dollars into Buck's permanent retirement at the age of 45 years old. The best news, his wife Beth could quit her nursing job and raise their three sons into teenagers, enjoying the motherly life style with her husband.

Slick was quiet and secretive with his personal life. No one knew his parents or brothers or sisters or aunts or uncles or cousins. But he was planning travel the work while working his new job that aided the community.

Ace exhaled with sorrow releasing the exit papers, turning to nod at each friend, in silence. Today was his last day at his military judgeship also. He has signed his exit papers this morning at 08:08 am, after arriving at the base, chatting with the commander. He offered to hang around the court room, until he was bored while waiting for a new criminal, since each soldier with a crime was a criminal to Ace. The day was going to become bored and boredom really quickly. Most of the military soldiers were off work for the holiday or in the town of Washington D.C., at the Capital Building for the upcoming Fourth of July military event, which was held annually for America's birthday party.

This was the day before the grand Fourth of July. No soldier would dare commit a crime. And if that soldier did, then the soldier was placed into the jail cell for the entire holiday weekend, until the first hour of the work day on Monday morning, with food and water.

The three friends continued to stare at each other in silence while deeply breathing out sour air molecules, without bringing about tears of sadness.

Ace broke the silence and extended his hand to Buck first. Buck ignored the hand and shuffled ahead, crushing Ace's arm and body into a big brotherly hug of appreciation, gratuity and friendship for a few seconds, pulling back with a smile. "Are you coming into the office today, Chief?"

Ace shook his bone skull. "Never! I made both of ya'll in charge, so I am not seen ever. Go meet the foundation staff and then take the day off with pay," he laughed with his two friends.

Slick nodded with a smile and hugged his stack of exit papers from the military service. "I own there was something special about Ace that night we kidnapped his ass and ransomed him inside the recreational center for a round of cold beers, instead of beating his butthole."

"Don't start up the past, Slick. We are done with the past and starting our new lives with our new future." Buck smiled.

Slick smiled. "Amen!"

Ace nodded with a smile and reached out, extending his hand to Slick. Slick shook and then released the hand, nodding with a smile to Ace. Ace exhaled with sadness and shook his bone skull. "Well, this is it! I feel sad and glad and mad that I didn't get to jail all of the druggies from the four branches of the USA. However, my replacement is a young ambitious kid right out of law school, who doesn't like druggies either. So, I feel replaced." He laughed with his friends. "Get going, ya'll! You need to file the paperwork before the lunch hour. Else, you and you will be working the court room scene with me here for the rest of the day."

Slick spun around with a smile and tossed his arm, moving ahead towards the closed door. "I heard that true statement loud and clear! Bye, Ace! I'll see you and Fawn at the wedding, if she doesn't run away again," he laughed.

"Bye, Ace! Thanks for everything. Beth is very happy too. We all will be at your wedding ceremony, next week." Buck scooted from Ace and spun around, facing the entrance wall, racing ahead towards Slick with happiness.

Ace spun around with a smile and watched the back spine on each friend, shouting out loud. "Bye, Slick and Buck! Close the door on your way out!" The door did not slam shut but quietly closed shut. Then one of the heavy doors slowly slid open and revealed the smile on the familiar female. Ace exhaled with annoyance. "She is back here again for a third time! What is up with that?"

She slowly moved ahead and winked at Ace holding a picnic basket of food with both hands without waving. "Ace! Ace! Hello! Hello!"

He laughed. "O! Spring has arrived early, this year. Where are Summer and Autumn? Ya'll three girls are never apart but for the past three..."

She smiled. "Awe! Thanks for the compliment, Ace. What a lovely day! And what a lovely surprise seeing you here again.

"I work here." he mumbled.

She plowed through the half-door and then stopped, standing beside the same prosecution table, which was clean and empty of papers and people, placing the heavy picnic on top of the surface without Ace's assistance. He laughed at her girly struggles and continued to stand in annoyance, staring at the silly female. The basket landed with a loud thump on top of the polished wood surface sliding to the side and then halted without dropping down off the edge. She giggled with her silliness and popped open the lid, slowly removing each heavy dish with a new entree of breakfast food items. "Ace, last night, I was re-living all of our fun times when we were dating in high school. Do you remember all of our fun times, darling?"

He reached over and stuffed one of the warm buttered biscuits into his mouth, mumbling at her poses question. "No."

Spring looked up and winked at Ace, shrugging her shoulder, crinkling her ugly nose bridge. "Awe! That's so sweet, Ace! Me, too!"

Ace sat down and chewed the biscuit, filling an empty plate with delicious food, praying for a prisoner or a pardon.

At 08:30 am, back at Ace's house, on top of the patio surface, in the bright sunlight and headed day, Fawn piled a stack of breakfast items on top of her plate, slightly nibbling on the scrambled eggs. She was too excited about the results of her laboratory tests while impatiently waiting on the text message from Nall McCoo, M.D. Fawn found the physician strange but hopefully accurate with her medical diagnosis and then treatment protocol that might restore Fawn's talking voice.

The patio door opened and revealed one of the pretty female waitresses, holding a tray of beverages, scooting across the floor surface and stopped beside Attila. She leaned down and placed a tall, sweaty tumbler on top of the wooden table. "Good morning, sir and miss! Here, you go! Enjoy your morning!" She spun around with a happy smile and faced the rear wall of glass, scooting over the patio floor.

"Thank you!" Attila yelled out loud spitting a mouthful of chewed food particles, swallowing the lump with a smile, reaching down for a new food item and consumed the good food.

Fawn continued to mess up the plate of food items like she had eaten some of the breakfast meal, fooling Magritte. Attila had mentioned that Magritte was trying to spy inquiring about Fawn and her lack of appetite. So, Fawn would leave behind a messy plate of food for Magritte's two eyeballs. Fawn dropped the dirty fork down in the messy plate of food, reaching out, grabbing the sweaty tumbler and sipped the sweet tea, enjoying the cool liquid down her dry throat. She did not finish the tumbler of tea but swallowed enough of the liquid to fool Magritte, placing the tumbler back down on top of the wooden table. A rock and roll musical tune exploded on her active personal mobile telephone. She whipped out her phone with a smile and looked down, reading a new text message from Nall McCoo: Your laboratory test results are negative. Nothing is wrong with your blood. I cannot help with your medical condition, Fawn. However, I am sending you to a specialist. The name is Gasper Germer, M.D. He is an old ancient geezer but knows his stuff. He worked with my physician father, who is now retired. Dr. Germer likes a challenge with a difficult patient.

Fawn stopped reading the text and fumed within her silence mental thoughts at crazy Dr. McCoo.

stop calling me a difficult patient. i am a person. i have feelings. i can read. i can't talk.

She looked back down and finished reading the text message on her phone screen: You have a scheduled appointment this morning at nine o'clock with Dr. Germer. His office is located in my building on the third floor level. Good luck, Fawn!" She gasped in alarm and viewed the time on her phone, reading at 08:37 am. Fawn needed to leave and visit the new physician as part of her secret plan solving her medical mystery. She looked up and stared at Attila. He was still tasting each one of the breakfast items while making a mess on his clothes, the patio surface, and the wooden table. He must can read a human mind and as Attila looked up chewing and winked at Fawn, flipping his hand in the air regarding her new text message coming from Ace. He thought the silly pirate bridal shower was a stupid idea, but his wife Magritte insisted on the happy party for the young couple.

Fawn nodded with a smile and turned sideways, viewing the rear wall of glass windows, seeing Magritte. she was busy waving both of her arms in the air and yelled at the hired help. Fawn returned back and winked at Attila, slowly standing upright, wiping off her dirty face and dropped the cloth napkin beside the plate of messy food, slowly scooting off the patio surface with a smile. She escaped from the back yard and gently closed the gate, slowly walking towards her parked car while scouting the neighborhood for a stray southern belle, without seeing one. She entered her car and carefully drove back to the medical office building, seeing the next medical physician, praying for a miracle.

At 08:45 am, at the USA Coast Guard military base, in the court room, on the prosecution table, Ace continued to stuff his mouth with the delicious food items, without an interruption, mumbling a single incoherent word back to Trixie.

At 08:51 am, Fawn parked the car on the fourth floor inside the crowded garage space and killed the engine, sliding out from the driver's seat, briskly padding with the rest of the patients over the second floor parking garage walkway. She entered the second floor level, stopped, and waited for the elevator carriage. the carriage arrived. The door slid open. She entered with the carriage with the other patients, who did not talk, only worked the phone in silence. Someone pressed each button. The carriage climbed up towards the next floor. Fawn gasped in alarm and checked the time on her phone, reading 08:52 am. She didn't want to become late for her scheduled appointment with Gasper Germer, who resided down on the third floor.

The carriage stopped at each floor releasing one or two patients, sailing upwards towards the tenth floor. Fawn stood in the rear wall and continued to worry about the time. Finally, the elevator carriage was empty with only Fawn, riding back down to the third floor. The carriage stopped. The single door slid open. She moved ahead and stopped studying the new floor, which was colored in pale blue tinted walls and rows of flying pale blue dolphins, making Fawn dizzy from the art work. She didn't see a glass door or a painted sign in the hallway near the elevator doors, turning to the side wall, swiftly padding down an empty coordinator with confusion, reaching a solid pale blue tinted wall with a glass window and viewed the parking lot and manicured lawn. She spun around in frustration and swiftly dashed back down the same hallway, searching for the entrance door and then halted on the opposite wall. She examined a solid wall in pale blue with a glass window.

the day is pretty. the time is morning. where is the location of the next medical office? did i read the text message wrong.

She looked down at the screen on her phone and reread the information, second floor of the same building and then Fawn looked up and stared out the window with frustration, slowly back stepping from the glass, when her eyeball caught a narrow, dark side hallway. She spun around and studied the new hallway, staring at a new wooden door, clapping with delight and raced down the side wall, entering the semi-dark corridor. She stopped before slamming into a door in dull wood and reached out, touching the door knob. Nothing happened.

She smiled and slowly opened the door, viewing a large open room in dirty tan colored paint with two solid walls with the same dirty tan colored paint that darkened the room. She stood in the archway and heard a baritone voice coming from the wall corner on the opposite side of the room.

"Come inside, honey. Are you, Miss Fong?"

Fawn entered the large room which lacked proper office furniture pieces and medical staff members and then halted in the middle of the dull wooden floor, staring at a tall individual.

A tall, slender, middle-aged medical physician stood in the wall corner behind a dull wooden office table with stacks of papers, smiling at Fawn, wearing a pair of dark blue tinted dress shirt, a pair of tan colored trousers, a long white tinted laboratory coat with his medical name, and a pair of brown tinted flip-flops. He displayed a head of grayish brown cropped hair, a pair of bugling eyeballs with rims of blood shot features, a pair of brown tinted eyeballs, a tone of red tinted skin, and a thick neckline.

Fawn was glad that she could not talk, else she would have screamed in horror at the ugly man. She gasped in alarm and then formed a fake smile, nodding to the new medical physician.

He nodded back with a smile. "Good morning, Miss Fong! I am Gasper Germer. I understand that you can't talk with your natural voice now. So, let me do the talking here. We are going to move back into my examination room on the opposite wall. Follow me!" He scooted sideways and shifted from the table edge, leading her towards the opposite room. "Please forgive my open physician office. This is short-term rental office for me." He turned into an open archway and scooted against the short side wall, pointing into the semi-dark room. "This is my only examination room. And it is darkened on purpose. The ceiling needs new lamps. Please enter and sit down on top of the examination table for me."

Fawn moved ahead inside the room with a smile of hope, stopped, and stood beside the lonely examination table with a white tinted piece of paper, climbing on top of the bed, waiting for the examination.

Gasper shuffled ahead and spun around, standing in front of Fawn, nodding with a smile. "Dr. McCoo was very kind and sent me all of your past medical chart records. So, I have a good grip on your medical case and your medical condition. I have some good working theories that are working for me, not you. First, I would like to probe your neck and throat area for any lumps." He leaned over and touched her neck, probing the smooth skin.

At 09:02 am, at Ace's house, on the patio surface, Attila swallowed the lump of food and licked his fingers from the gooey treat, reaching out, sticking all of his fingers onto the sweaty tumbler, slowly sipping the sweet tea. He coughed out loud and pulled the tumbler from his sugary lips, dropping the glass down on the patio surface and grabbed his throat with both hands. he continued to gag and then cough out loud, clutching his throat, slowly standing upright form the cushion and dropped down to his side.

Inside the interior room, the male waiter watched Attila and then gasped in alarm, rushing from the living room, entering the patio surface and then slid on top of the yellow tinted hard brick surface. He quickly squatted down and reached out, touching Attila, yelling in panic. "Sir! Sir! What's wrong? Sir! Sir! Are you chocking?"

Attila continued to gag and then cough, laying on the surface, holding both of his hands onto his throat, slowly turning from olive tint into a blush pink. The waiter reached down and removed Attila's hands from his throat, parting the lips on the old man, reaching down and wiggled his index finger into the open mouth on Attila, not finding a foreign object. Attila continued to gag without inhaling air molecules, slowly turning from pale blush into a ghostly pale tone of white, chocking on some type of foreign object.

Inside the living room, several of the waitress and some of the southern belles watched the tall waiter on top of the patio surface, pointing at the rear wall of glass, screaming in panic.

"Granddaddy Smith is hurt."

"Granddaddy Smith fell off the chair and is hurt."

Magritte gasped in alarm and spun around facing the rear glass wall, seeing the waiter on the patio surface, not Attila. She yelled out loud and waved both of her arms in the air. "Call the police! Call the police! That waiter! That tall man is hurting Attila." She dashed ahead with worry and exited the living room, entering the patio surface, attaching the tall male. "Get off of Attila! Why are harming him? Get away from him right now! I called the police. get off of him!"

The waiter flipped Attila on his back spine and slammed his fist down onto the chest, yelling back at his wife. "He's having a seizure! Call 911! He's having a seizure! Call 911!" He leaned down and listened to a faint heart beat, hearing Attila wheeze, instead of breath.

Magritte gasped in panic and squatted down, reaching out, shaking Attila's body, sobbing with tears, wailing out loud in pain. "Get an ambulance here! Call the doctor! Get some help! Don't worry! Everything is fine! Everything is fine!"

"Get back from him, woman! Go and signal the paramedics in here, before he dies from suffocation."

Magritte sneered at the paid employee waiter. "No! He's not dying. What are you doing to him? Get off of Attila! The police are coming to arrest you for attacking and injuring Attila."

One of the smarter waitresses appeared in the open archway and wiggled her personal mobile telephone in the air. "Here! Here! I called 911! The paramedics are coming. They are on my phone and wanna talk to you."

He extended his hand and accepted the phone, pressing the speaker box, yelling out the information. "Male. Late 60s. Faint heart beat. Alive, not breathing. He's choking on something but there is nothing inside his mouth."

The paramedic shouted out loud through the mobile telephone's speaker box to the waiter. "Good! If you can't find the object inside the mouth, it's stuck down in his throat. Perform a tracheotomy! Do it right now! Else, he'll die."

The waiter gasped in alarm. "I can do that. Walk me through the procedure! Waitress, go and get me clean towels and a blanket and a drinking straw, right now, for the victim. Magritte, get outta of my way, right now!"

Magritte slowly stood upright with a huff of annoyance from the brick floor and sneered at the bossy waiter, scooting backwards, watching the man work on Attila with great care.

The waitress nodded in silence and left the patio floor, running to another southern belle with all of the items, returning quickly back onto the patio, stopping near the waiter. The waiter pulled out his switchblade knife, whipping the weapon air current, producing the blade in the sunlight. He reached down and touched the skin on the throat, holding his breath and nervousness, cutting a slit down into the tender skin. The blood proteins spurted in the air and then poured over his hand, down on the patio, and over Attila's body and clothes. The waiter continued to slowly cut a sit down in the skin below the Adam's apple. The cut went through the cartilaginous rings on the outer wall of the trachea, which was called the windpipe. He stopped cutting and dropped his knife with a loud ting onto the patio surface, taking the sliced drinking straw from the smart waitress. He inserted the home-made tube through the bloody cut in the neck skin below the vocal cords, hearing the breathing coming from Attila, exhaling with worry but happiness that the old man would live for another day.

At 09:07 am, the front door flew open and revealed the first paramedic, a male of average height and weight, displaying a head of cropped black tinted hair, a pair of green tinted eyeballs, and a tone of dark skin. The gang of southern belles pointed to the rear wall. Then a team of male paramedics stormed through the living room floor and entered the patio area, stopping and then squatted down, quickly examining Attila, rushing his words. The paramedic rapidly wrapped Attila in blankets and placed other medical equipment over his body. "You did an excellent job, sir, with the switchblade and the drinking straw. Else, his man would be dead. Are you ready, guys?" The group of firefighters and the rest of the paramedics slowly lifted the body board with an unconscious Attila, moving carefully from the patio area, through the living room, exiting the house and loaded the patient into the waiting ambulance.

On top of the patio floor, the waiter slowly cleaned off his pair of dirty hands with one of the clean towels, exhaling with worry for the elderly gentleman, staring down at the tiny object on top of the patio brick. The object was glossy, white-tinted, oval shaped size and measured at the length of a medical caplet that a patient swallowed to calm a set of achy nerves. He reached down and gently snatched up the item, dropping down into his apron, slowly standing upright from the floor, feeling terrible about the mess.

Magritte turned to face the wall of glass and swiftly left the patio area, quickly following behind the back spine on the last paramedic, shouting out loud to any of the southern belles. "Call Ace! Tell him that his grandfather is going to the emergency room with a heart attack." One of the southern belles was dialing her personal mobile telephone, before Magritte's loud announcement.

At 09:10, at the military base, inside an empty court room, on the prosecution table, Ace continued to enjoy the good food while rudely mumbling a soft incoherent single word to Spring.

A soft pop musical tune chimed on her personal mobile telephone. She looked down at her phone with a smile and recognized the familiar telephone, lifting the phone, switching the icon. "Hello, dear..." She gasped in shock. "What!"

She paused and listened to the voice on the other end of the phone.

She shouted out loud back to her sister on the phone and Ace at the same time." Ace, your grandfather had a heart attack at your house. He is being transported by ambulance to the hospital, right now."

"What!" Ace spat out a mouthful of un-chewed food items over the table, his plate, and his lap, standing upright from the chair, coughing out loud and expelled the rest of the food items. His personal mobile telephone chimed with a country musical song. He reached down and grabbed his phone, scooting from the table, leaving the food and Spring and raced towards the closed door. He slammed into the door and then halted, yelling into the face of the stationary guard. "Get that bitch and her damn food picnic basket outta of my court room, right now!"

"Yes, sir!" The guard turned and sneered at the unknown woman who was named as Spring. Spring stood behind the prosecution table with fear in silence.

At 09:14 am, at Ace's house, through the open archway, a gang of uniformed and non-uniformed police officers arrived and spread around the room, taking statement from each attendee including the waitress and the waiter. After the police officers had finished with the questions, each person was free to leave the house. The last police officer locked the front door and stood guard on the front porch for Ace. Ace was known to Mobile police department and was not especially liked as the military judge released all of the drug uses or drug pimps into the active, busy city streets within the city of Mobile.

However, Ace's grandfather, Samuel Attila Smith, the original was a respected member of the Mobile society and deserved a special honor after that terrible incident and as the police officer guarded the crime sight watching for Ace.

At 09:17 am, inside the medical office building, on the second floor, in the medical examination room, Dr. Sam Germer continued to touch Fawn's naked neck tissues while probing the smooth skin, shaking his bone skull. "I do not feel any enlargements in the lymph nodes." He removed both of his hands and stepped back, smiling at Fawn. "I bet that young, silly physician wanted to perform an ultrasound, a thyroid CT scan, a thyroid biopsy with a needle in the operating room, and an outpatient office laryngoscope, all at the same time." Fawn gasped in alarm and then smiled at the wise, older male physician.

Germer chuckled. "Yeah, I thought so. The younger medical physicians wanna radiate the patient and the germs. That's not the right way to practice mind. But, Dr. McCoo did follow her medical training and ordered a blood test for you and me. She sent me the laboratory results also. Your laboratory results are normal, not negative or positive. Your thyroid gland is healthy, my dear." Fawn nodded with a smile with the good news. The medical physician nodded back. "We both conclude that your thyroid gland is not the medical issue here. So, I need to perform a complete medical examination and record all of your working body parts for my medical records. Could you please change outta of your clothing and into an examination gown? There is a tiny room on the rear wall that holds the lavatory, a clean hospital gown, and a hook for your clothes." Fawn nodded with a smile and slid off the table, moving ahead with a smile towards the open door that led into the small bathroom, entering the room and closed the door.

At 09:20 am, Ace raced through the building and talked on his mobile telephone to his commander, explaining the terrible situation. Ace had been cleared to leave his job, the court room, the building, and the USA Coast Guard military base foreverly by his understanding commander. He slammed into his pickup truck and then back stepped, opening the door, sliding into the driver's seat and started the cold engine. He didn't let the motor warm and pressed the gasoline pedal with worry and panic, peeling out from the parking spot, driving wildly through the familiar streets on the military base. He ended the first telephone call and dialed his medical physician friend Kamiru Feenker, a physician at the local hospital. Dr. Feenker was the physician for both Ace and his grandfather.

"Kam, my granddaddy is heading..."

Ace paused and listened to Kam's voice on the other side of the phone.

"Good!"

Ace listened to the Kam's voice.

"My granddaddy came into the emergency department and was treated there. Now, he's housed inside a private hospital room. What's wrong with my granddaddy, Kam?"

Ace listened to Kam.

"I'll be there at the hospital campus in ten minutes or sooner. Have one of your medical fellows meet me at in physician's parking lot and clear my parked vehicle, escorting me to my granddaddy?"

Ace didn't bother listening to Kam's answer and disconnected the telephone call while increasing the speed rate on his personal pickup truck, beating the ten-minute timeline. He growled with angry inside the truck cab. "My granddaddy was happy and healthy, this morning. He didn't have a heart attack. Something is terribly wrong here. Gritty had anything to do with his fake heart attack, now she is dead by my naked hands." He sneered in fury and drove with faster speed flying through the obvious red traffic light with a set of loud car horns honking at Ace. "I bet..."

"...that young, silly physician scared you with all of these medical terms." Dr. Sam nodded with a smile inside the second floor examination room of the medical office building. His new medical patient Fawn moved from the lavatory space and wore a smile, displaying a pale blue colored hospital gown and a pair of naked feet, stopping beside Sam and the examination table, slowly climbing back onto the table.

He patted on the sheet and ordered with a smile to Fawn. "Lie back down, please, on the examination table. I am going to probe and poke all of your different body parts on your biological body, which will help me find or eliminate any other medical root causes. By the way, I am called an infectious disease physician. I am a doctor of internal medicine, who has studied and specialized in infectious diseases to prevent and treat a disease in a sick person. I am the type of physician that investigates an outbreak of a killer virus or an unknown pathogen, which is gloried by the producers on each and every Hollywood movie film. If the outbreak of a killer virus ever materialized similar to a Hollywood movie film, then the earthlings and the animals would be dead within weeks." He softly chuckled and continued to poke and probe on Fawn, who softly giggled from the warm hands on the medical physicians without sound, of course.

At 09:28 am, from the busy roadway, breaking the ten-minute deadline with speed, Ace slammed down on the brakes and slowed his truck, slowly pulling into the Mobile Hospital private parking lot for the physicians, stopping in the first empty spot and killed the engine. He slid out with a stern face and moved ahead towards the nervous medical fellow, who was escorting Ace to Dr. Feenker and his granddaddy on the nursing floor.

The nervous medical fellow nodded in silence and spun around, entering the building through the private physician archway, swiftly padding down an empty hallway that was used by the doctors only and stopped at the set of elevator doors, in silence. Ace stopped and stared down at his mobile telephone, reading numerous text messages coming from numerous people, that he didn't even know. The carriage stopped behind the closed doors with a loud squeak. Ace looked up and viewed the sliding door, seeing an empty carriage, entering the compartment with the medical fellow. He didn't bother turning around to face the doors and looked down reading each new text message with puzzlement. The door slid closed. The carriage swiftly flew upwards to the fifth floor and then halted. The door slid open again.

Ace spun around with a stern face and followed the back spine on the medical fellow, slamming his face into a crowd of nosy people. His two eyeballs darted at some of the people and as his mind recognized each face. Each person came from his church, his military office, his granddaddy's law firm office, his country club and other familiar places of play or work. He whispered with annoyance. "What! What is this mess?" He couldn't move ahead and get closer towards the row of private rooms, where his granddaddy was housed. The hallway was filled with people, not medical staff members, either. However, the medical staff members were shouting and pointing at the guest lounge for each visitor.

Some of the people spun around and waved back to Ace, shouting out loud a set of loud incoherent words, struggling ahead to greet him.

Ace continued to stand in place and scanned the crowd for an opening with impatient and worry for his sick granddaddy.

Slick wormed his slender figure through the crowd and slid behind the back spine on Ace, slamming his hand onto the collar bone of his friend. Ace gasped in alarm and spun around, looking down, viewing Slick. Slick slowly back stepped from Ace and spun around, knowing a different pathway that led down a narrow hallway towards the row of private rooms.

Ace quickly followed the back spine on Slick with relief and still worry for his granddaddy, leaving the crowd of visitors, turning down a narrow side wall, with bad lightning. Slick dashed ahead and then turned again into the side wall disappearing from the narrow hallway.

Ace increased his foot speed and turned into the side wall, colliding into the glass door, exhaling with annoyance. He touched the glass door and entered the sterile area for the physicians. Slick was there donning a pair of green tinted surgery clothes with a mask that hid his face. Ace copied Slick and followed his friend.

Slick spun around from Ace and quickly moved through a new side door that led down a new narrow corridor in white paint which was a back door into each private room, stopping and pointed at the room with Ace's granddaddy.

Ace nodded to Slick in silence and opened the room, standing in the open archway. The room was a long rectangular-shaped exhibiting a living room setting but still a smelly sterile hospital room environment. The entrance wall displayed wallpaper with dancing pale blue tinted dolphins behind white background of deep blue ocean waters behind a long counter of purple and white granite that held lower cabinets filled with medical supplies and smaller medical instruments for the sick patient. The entrance door stood on the same wall which quickly opened and displayed the stern face on Buck. Ace's friend was guarding the archway from all the nosy visitors.

One of the short side walls displayed a long glass window of the manicured lawn and park of the open parking lot and some of the Mobile Bay waters with a short light wooden table below the glass pane that held a pretty arrangement vase of fresh flowers in pink, yellow, orange, and blue tint. One corner wall housed a light colored wooden table displaying a set of fresh food and beverage items with stone plates, cups, glass tumblers, and silverware for each family member or visiting guest. The opposite wall corner exhibited a second light colored wooden table with another nice flower arrangement in a glass vase and numerous electronic devises for each family member or guest visiting the sick patient for entertainment.

A few feet from the corner table, a long sofa in peach and white strips with a matching loveseat kissed the solid pale blue wall paint, offering seating for each family member or visiting guest member. Magritte sat at the far end of the long sofa and sipped on her cup of hot tea, nibbling on a small plate of food items. Ace turned and sneered at Magritte pondering her involvement with the strange heart attack with his granddaddy.

The rest of the solid blue wall held scattered pieces of mounted medical equipment for the physicians and the nurses along with that secret back door, where Ace continued to stand and growl at Magritte. The rear wall intersected on the opposite room, where the patient laid in the hospital bed.

Attila was unconscious and wore a needle in his arm that supplied a bag of sugar water into his biological system, a tiny pale blue tinted tube from a hole in his throat for breathing, and a thick blanket over the rest of his long, slender elderly, body.

Ace continued to stand in the archway and slowly turned his face, viewing the opposite short side wall, gasping in alarm and did not move.

Kamius Feenker stood beside the hospital bed and fiddled with the medical equipment on his new patient Attila, hearing the squeaky noises coming from the side door, spinning around to view Ace. He swiftly moved ahead and nodded his bone skull several times, colliding into a stunned Ace, reaching out and grabbed the arm on Ace. Kamius slowly steered Ace ahead towards his granddaddy and whispered into the eardrum on Ace. "Your granddaddy..."

"... is under the care of a woman. I didn't catch your name, doctor. Who are you?" Magritte shouted out loud and slowly stood upright from the cushion, advancing towards Kamius and Ace and stood in front of the two individuals.

Kamius turned and nodded to Magritte. "I am called a cardiology. I study and treat disorders of the heart and the blood vessels. My field of cardiology is a branch of internal medicine. However, I am not a cardiac surgeon, who cuts open the chest cavity and performs heart surgery."

Magritte frowned. "Well, I can't believe this. I did not know that your grandfather had a heart disease. Else..."

"He does not." Ace said to Kamius. "Is heart surgery required for my granddaddy?"

Kamius said. "No, heart surgery is not required for your grandfather, Ace. However, I have ordered an array of medical tests, including blood work. I do not see the need, right now, for a heart catheterization or an angioplasty or a pacemaker in his chest cavity. Heart disease is related to the heart and affects the blood vessels. I am glad that both of you are here."

"I'm not." Ace mumbled.

Kamius nodded. "I want to know more about Attila's heart condition. I have checked his heart organ for a heart murmur and any abnormal heart rhythm, which does not exist. Before he came into the hospital's emergency room, by ambulance transport, I was told by the lead paramedic that your grandfather had experienced shortness of breath, dizziness, and chest pains, before collapsing down on top of the floor. Before today, has Attila experienced...?"

"No! None of these medical conditions have ever existed on Attila with me." Magritte shook her golden tinted curls and consumed the next food item, chewing with a set of good southern belle manners, holding a plate of food items.

The physician frowned. "Has Attila experienced shortness of breath or dizziness or one single or a series of chest pains, before today, Ace?"

"No." Ace shook his bone skull.

Kamius nodded. "I examined Attila five months ago during his annual checkup. He did not indicate any type of heart condition including shortness of breath, dizziness, chest pains or changes in his heart rate. He does not possess atherosclerosis, atrial fibrillation, arrhythmias, congenital heart disease, coronary heart disease, or congestive heart disease. During his annual medical examination, Attila had exhibited normal blood levels in cholesterol and triglycerides and did not possess hypertension or high blood pressure. You and Attila do not carry a family history of heart disease or high cholesterol blood levels. Ya'll are not a smoker or possess diabetes. And Attila exercises on a regular basis for his elderly age."

"What does these complex medical terms mean, Dr. Feenker?" Magritte asked and then consumed another food item, chewing the delicious item.

"My granddaddy is fine and dandy." Ace sneered back at Magritte.

Magritte turned and growled at Ace spitting out particles of chewed food particles in the air landing on the floor, without hitting the face on Ace. "Obviously, he is not fine and dandy."

Kamius nodded. "His weight is normal. His heart is normal along with his two healthy lungs. He does not possess high blood pressure either. However, right now, his blood pressure is very low, but he is resting comfortably."

Magritte turned and sneered at Kamius." Obviously, you don't know how..."

"I help..."

"... sick people that have contracted a common infection, which is caused by bacteria, viruses, fungi, or parasites." Dr. Sam nodded with a smile to his new medical patient Fawn, in the same second floor examination room, inside the same medical office building. "Dr. McCoo is an internist like me. So, we both work together on the same patient to figure out and then fix their medical issues. Now, Dr. McCoo could not find any type of physical problem outside the skin tissue or inside your guts regarding the lack of speech coming from your non-working voice cords. So, she wisely sent you to me thinking you might have been exposed to an unknown or known organism in your past or current environment, such like, tainted food or contaminated drinking water or another sick human or a wandering sick animal. In my line of work, I do not dismiss any clue, until I have proven that clue is worthless."

"You have heard of infectious diseases, which include influenza and sexually transmitted diseases or a STD, such as, HIV or AIDS. When an infectious disease is transmitted from a sick animal to a healthy human and the human becomes infected with the same symptoms, it is called a zoontic disease. When an infectious disease becomes an epidemic, spreading throughout the mass of people or animals, it is known as an endemic.

"Most of the infectious disease medical physicians work at a medical center, where lots of hospital-acquired infections like to live, thrive, and expand onto each sick patient. Now days, some of the hospital-acquired infections and known organisms resist the man-made antibiotics and continue to grow and consume the sick patient, without any known medicine. That creates a nasty challenge for any and all infectious disease medical physicians throughout the world.

Now, if an infectious disease medical physician uncovers an infection which is hard to diagnose or difficult to treat, then the physician will order a barrage of medical tests."

At 09:55 am, back inside Attila's patient room, Kamius stood beside the patient bed and nodded with a stern face at Ace. "I have already ordered a medical echocardiogram. An echocardiogram is an ultrasound picture which shows the structure of the heart chamber and surrounding regions. An echocardiogram shows how well the heart organ is working inside your grandfather. And I have already received the echo results. His cardiac output measurement is very good. His heart is pumping blood through all of the chambers. I do not see any inflammation around the heart organ or infections on any of the heart valves or any type of abnormality on the heart structure." The physician spun around with a stern face and moved ahead towards the hospital bed on the short side wall. The side wall wore an array of mounted and colorful pieces of hospital equipment for the sick patient with a stark white background. The hospital bed was metal and tan colored with four black tinted wheels. The upper portion of the bed mattress was tilted for the patient's bone skull and upper torso. The bed mattress was covered in solid white linen sheets and two matching blankets. He pointed at the hospital patient. Attila wore a blue tinted hospital gown over his body and continued to rest vertically on top of the mattress, producing a set of funny sounds from his body. His two eyelids were closed, and both of his arms were resting at his side in deep slumber and hidden pain.

Kamius stopped and stood a few inches from the bed railing that blocked the patient from rolling off the bed mattress, grabbing out, gently touching the arm on Attila. "You can see that Attila is sleeping. His right hand wears an IV needle with a long tube which is attached to an IV pump of nine percent saline and ninety-one percent water. Saline is one of the most common of the IV fluid mixture, because the solution works for hydration needs due to vomiting, diarrhea, hemorrhaging and even shock in the patient. The IV fluid mixture also maintains normal blood pressure and give the patient medicines or nutrients, if the patient cannot eat solid foods. The other IV solutions include saline and potassium which appears like plasma, the clear part of the blood proteins. This intravenous therapy delivers fluids directly into his vein."

Magritte chewed the lump of food and then sneered at the physician. "Drips, this method is called drips by the other physicians. This is a drip bag that drips the solution down into needle that drops down into his veins. We all know that from the medical center television shows. Get on with your lecture, doctor! I have a scheduled hair appointment within the hour that I cannot miss." She sipped the teacup of warm chocolate. Ace turned and sneered at Magritte.

Kamius cleared her throat and stared at Attila, continuing her medical information to Ace. "The intravenous route through the blood vein is the fastest way to deliver medications and fluid replacement throughout the body as the fluid is introduced directly into the circulation of the chemical human body. Intravenous therapy is used to correct electrolyte imbalance and for blood transfusions. Attila also displays a naked chest of tiny, metal-coated, silver-tinted, rounded electrodes. Each electrode is connected to a small metal, silver-tinted wire that runs to an electrocardiogram monitor which records the electrical activity of the heart organ. On the monitor above Attila's bed rest, the black tinted screen shows his heart rhythms running up and down, like normal, on the display. His heart organ is working well, Ace. The last item on Attila's body is the neck ventilator. Attila started choking at your house, Ace. One of the smart waitresses was blessed with the knowledge of a tracheotomy. A tracheotomy is an opening created at the front of the neck, where a tube is inserted into the windpipe or trachea helping a patient breathe in air molecules. The smart waitress also concealed and carried her switchblade, whipping out the blade, cutting a hole in his throat, stuffing a cut drinking straw in the hole for Attila to breath in air molecules, which worked perfectly and saved his life, Ace. Once Attila had arrived at the emergency room, the drinking straw was substituted for the ugly, pale blue ventilator that is making all of the good noise. Attila is steadily breathing in and out air molecules while resting comfortably here in the hospital bed. So far, all of his medical tests look good. I plan to observe him for the two days and monitor his vital signs. On the third day, I will perform a cardiac catheterization medical procedure.

"A cardiac catheterization medical procedure consists of a small tube in the heart organ, where tube collects data and relieves any type of blockage. I can take pictures and check the functioning of the heart organ structure and the electrical system which is called a fluoroscopy to treat congenital cardiac valvular and coronary artery diseases.

"Such long words," Magritte exhaled with boredom and then munched on the new food item, chewing with good southern belle manners.

Ace gasped in alarm and returned back staring with worry at his grandfather. "But I thought you said that my granddaddy was healthy and didn't exhibit any heart disease."

Kamius nodded with a stern face at her patient. "I did. But I am puzzled with his sudden illness. If the cardiac catheterization does not reveal any new information, then I will order one of the numerous nuclear cardiology medical tests. Each nuclear imaging technique uses radioactive materials further studying cardiovascular disorders and diseases without surgery methods, of course. Infarction imagine, single-photon-emission computed tomography or SPECT; planar imaging and myocardial perfusion imaging are nuclear cardiology medical procedures." She continued to study Attila and explained her medical treatment protocol. "I am only explaining each one of these possible medical procedures to prepare you for a long journey here in the hospital ward. If I cannot find out anymore new information, then I will contact and bring to Attila a cardiac electro-physiologist. Cardiac electrophysiology is a subset of cardiology. The cardiac electro-physiologist looks at how the electric currents inside Attila's heart muscle tissue walls work, how the electric current spreads through the heart chambers, and what the pattern of the electric currents means. And electrophysiology study of the heart organ consists of a catheter line threaded into the blood vein at the top of his leg tissue which is guided under a medical fluoroscopy procedure that shoots the line to the heart organ. The catheter measures all of the electrical signals within the heart chamber helping the physician with the next step for healing the patient. The electrophysiology study indicates that the patient needs a pacemaker or maybe a new medical protocol treatment for arrhythmia which is an abnormal heart rhythm. Or the patient is experiencing tachycardia which is an accelerated heart beat. Don't worry, Ace and Magritte! A cardiac electro-physiologist can treat abnormal heart rhythms including cardiac ablation, implantable cardioverter defibrillator or a pacemaker, if Attila needs one." She removed her hand from Attila and turned, placing her cupped naked hand on the arm of Ace, wearing a smile. "Attila is doing fine, Ace. I must leave and attend my next patient down the hallway. I'll return back later to monitor Attila in the late afternoon, after seeing the rest of my other heart patients. You can stay here. Or you can go home. Attila has a private nurse, who is standing in the nurse's station, waiting for my physician instructions. You can give her your personal mobile telephone number. Then his private registered nurse can connect you, if anything changes for your grandfather, Ace. You need to find and tell Gem, Ace, if you haven't already."

Ace slightly nodded his bone skull while staring down with worry at his grandfather in silence.

Kamius spun around with a fake smile and nodded to Magritte. "Mrs. Smith, you are welcome to leave your personal mobile telephone number with Attila's private registered nurse if..."

"...not ever," Magritte sneered at the physician and held an empty plate of crumbs with an empty teacup. "I do not leave any of my personal items, including my personal cell telephone with anyone else in the world." She exhaled with annoyance and reached out, placing her dirty dishes on top of Attila's tall hospital tray, like a rude southern belle, dusting the tiny food crumbs from both of her two dirty naked hands, nodding with a smile. "Excellent report, doctor! Attila is in two good hands. I must leave," she spun around with a smile and swiftly padded ahead towards the closed door, pulling out a bottle of clear colored gel hand sanitizer.

A hand sanitizer is a liquid product used to decrease infectious agents on the human hands.

In front of the hospital bed with patient Attila, Kamius removed her hand and scooted around Ace, moving ahead towards the rear hidden door, slipping out from the hospital room, in silence.

Ace continued to stand and stared with worry down at his sleeping grandfather in silence.

On the opposite side wall, Magritte pumped the liquid from the tube and wringed her hands in the air, stopping in front of the closed hospital door. The door opened and revealed a rough face with a curved healed scar on the left cheekbone, a pair of amber eyeballs, and a tone of brownish-red tinted shoulder length hair strands. Magritte gasped in alarm and then sneered at the waiter, who had saved Attila's life force. The male scanned the room and then stared at the nose profile on Ace in silence.

Ace turned to face the entrance door hearing the gasp from Magritte and then gasped in shock, spinning around, following the back spine on Magritte.

The waiter mumbled underneath his breathe. "Wrong room!" Then he quickly back stepped from the open archway and left the door open, spinning around to face the side wall, moving through the thick crowd towards the elevator doors.

Magritte stalled inside the open archway with a sour frown and scanned the crowd room, exhaling with annoyance, shuffling ahead through the tight columns of human sweaty bodies towards the entrance wall that held three individual elevator carriages. She stopped at the last carriage and waited for the elevator. The elevator was very fast and arrived in front of Magritte. The sliding door opened and revealed an empty carriage. She entered the carriage and spun around, huffing at the smelly crowd of bodies. The elevator door closed shut with the stench inside the carriage compartment.

At the hospital archway, Ace stopped also and scanned the crowd of busybodies, hearing the screams of his name.

At 11:11 am, inside the medical building, on the second floor, Fawn continued to lie on top of the examination table feeling the ten soft fingertips running over her gowned body coming from Sam. Sam back stepped and shook his bone skull, speaking to Fawn. "I have probed and poked and probed your human body. You possess healthy body parts, Fawn."

She frowned and mentally thought.

nothing is wrong with me. what am i going to do now?

Sam said. "Please, sit upright on top of the table, now." Fawn twisted her body on top of the table and sat down on the edge, smiling at the physician. Sam nodded. "I am not finished with your medical examination, Fawn. However, I am a physician. And each physician likes to order a barrage of medical tests which costs your medical insurance monies, not you," he chuckles with amusement. I am still ruling out an infection within your chemical and biological human system that might be affecting your vocal folds. Thus, I need samples of your body fluids for a set of independent medical tests that might reveal evidence of a particular microbe that is the root cause."

She smiled and mentally thought.

i like this physician. he is determined to help me and find a cure for my voice cords.

Sam said. "Some of my usual medical tests include laboratory cultures, antibiotic sensitivity profiles, antibody assays, and a genetic analysis panel with your personal DNA strands that help to identify the cause of the illness and what man-made clinical medications and medical procedures are needed to treat the sick patient." He laughed. "But I am not going to do that here and now. Instead, I need some of your bodily fluids," Sam reached over to the side table and lifted up a small tray holding two small cups with a lid in his hand, saying with a smile. "One cup is used for a sample of your urine. A urine test is painless but requires you to urinated inside this container and then close the lid. The second container is used to collect and hold some of your stood sample." Fawn parted her lips without sound and stared at the cup. Sam nodded. "I need both of your delicate and smelly body fluid samples checking for a parasite or another organism. Now, to aid in the stool sample, drink this dark mixture of secret yummy ingredients. After ten minutes, you will have no trouble dropping down a stool sample into the cup. Be sure to open the lid and place the cup below your body part for the arrival," he laughed and placed the small tray back on top of the table. "But first, I need a sample of your blood protein. Hand me your hand." He produced a sharp needle and held her hand, quickly slapping the pointy tip down into her delicate skin. Fawn gasped in alarm without the sound, of course. Sam dropped the needle down into the disposable trash can beside the medical examination table, squeezing her hand, watching an array of her red tinted blood proteins drop down onto the same glass slide. "I am going to watch your blood proteins wiggle and giggle at me through my super duper microscope." He placed the slide of red blood on top of a second small tray of glass, reaching for the swab stick, moving the stick towards her mouth. "Open your mouth!" Fawn opened her mouth. "I am going to swab your throat and collect your mouth bacteria." He did that and placed the covered swab stick on top of the glass tray. "I'll work on these body fluid samples while you leave for the lavatory and you go and do your thing," he chuckled with a nod and reached out, grabbing the second small tray, slowly spinning around to face the opposite wall.

The side wall covered in dark colors and held a naked surface in black and purple granite with a line of small pieces of medical equipment.

Fawn slid off the table with a smile and stood on top of the dark tile floor, grabbing the small tray with the two small clear containers and the short clear cup of darkened liquid mixture, feeling doubt but hopeful. She spun around and faced the rear wall, moving ahead towards the single lavatory room.

At 11:13 am, back at the hospital setting, from the open archway on Attila's hospital room, Ace slowly moved ahead with a fake smile and struggled through the crowd of semi-familiar faces, heading towards the side wall with three elevators. A set of individual hands slapped his back spine or collar bone while another set of individual hands grabbed his arm, but Ace continued to wiggle through the crowd. One cupped hand reached out and grabbed at the arm on Ace while a second cupped hand extended outwards also, grabbing at the other arm on Ace. Ace tumbled into a halt and yelled out loud. "Hey! What! Who is tackling me?"

Slick appeared with a smile and cuddled beside Ace, trying to jerk them towards the entrance wall with the three elevators. Spring appeared with a girly giggle and hugged onto the opposite rib cage on Ace, trying to jerk them towards the side wall. Slick gasped in alarm and then sneered at Spring. Spring continued to hug Ace with smiles and giggles.

"Let go, everyone!" Ace yelled out loud and jerked back one of his arms from Slick wiggling it above his hair roots. Spring continued to hang onto Ace and slowly shuffled them through the crowd towards the side wall, stopping inside a new huddle with her two sisters, Slick, and Buck. Spring sat down in the reserved chair tugging on the arm of Ace.

Ace surveyed a circle of chairs, saying with a sour frown and a matching tone to each female occupant. "O! It's Belle and her two triplet sisters, Elle and Delle." He sat down in the offered empty chair beside Buck. Buck sat beside Slick.

First born triplet sister who had been amusing named by Ace as Spring and Belle, frowned at him. "I am so sorry about your grandfather, Ace. Is he going to die?"

Ace sneered. "No."

Second born triplet sister, who had been amusing named by Ace as Elle, winked at Ace. "Are you really going to get married, Ace?"

He smiled. "Yes."

Last triplet sister, who had been amusingly named by Ace as Delle, giggled to Ace. "Can we leave the hospital? It smells of death."

Ace frowned. "Yes, please do!"

Slick leaned over and whispered into the face on Buck. "Do you see? This is the last encounter with the three weird Wayward witch sisters, before the final death of Macbeth."

Buck surveyed the smile on each female. "That's a fictional play by Shakespeare, Slick. This is real life."

At 11:34 am, inside the medical building with Dr. Sam Germer, on the second floor, the lavatory door flung open and revealed Fawn. She moved ahead and held the small tray with two filled containers holding her inner body fluids which were still warm and stinky, carefully padding on a pair of naked feet towards the rear wall and then gently halted, presenting the tray to Dr. Germer.

Sam took the small tray of cups and started working with the two body fluid samples. Fawn returned back to the examination table and continued to wash her hands with the sterile wipe removing nothing from her palms, feeling dirty after handling her own body fluids. She wondered how a medical physician did their clinic job.

Sam had finished the first set of tests using her blood proteins, throat saline, fiddling with the two new cups, preparing the mixture for the next batch of laboratory medical tests. He washed his dirty hands and then back stepped from the work station, spinning around, drying his hands on the clean cloth and moved back to Fawn. She climbed back on top of the table dangling her legs off the edge waiting on the physician. He stopped and placed the wet cloth on top of the side table and smiled at Fawn. "Good news! So far, I have not found a parasite inside your biological human body from your blood test and throat swab test. The cooker is cooking your urine and stool samples for the final result. But I suspect that nothing is there either."

She exhaled with worry and mentally thought within her active mind.

then what is wrong with me? if i do not carry a parasite that affects my voice cords, then what is affecting my voice cords?

Sam smiled. "I have not completed my physical examination either. Open your mouth! I wanna explain your tongue, cheekbone tissues, and see down into your throat." Fawn opened her mouth and closed her eyeballs. He continued. "The food pipe is called the esophagus. The windpipe is called the trachea. The two pipes are located close to each other. The gullet opening opens for food. The trachea opening closes for food. Then the opposite maneuver happens for breathing air molecules. If you swallow food down the trachea, then a disastrous consequence happens which is called choking. The two pipes for food and air intersect at the pharynx. When one breathes in air molecules through their nose or mouth, the incoming air molecules pass through the pharynx."

She continued to hole her mouth open and mentally thought with her active mind.

no more science lectures. what is wrong with my windpipe?

Sam continued to examine her mouth. "The ability to properly enunciate words depends on the direction of the sound coming out from the mouth through the parted lips. A dog possesses a windpipe that intersects its esophagus which is located further away from its mouth and sharp fangs. So, a dog will not choke on its food items, which is convenience. Sometimes, a dog will consume and then swallow its food items whole traveling down the throat without choking and then dying. When the windpipe is positioned far, far away from the mouth opening, the sound produces a set of non-wordy yelps, barks, growls, meows, and you get it." He chuckled.

She continued to hold her mouth open and mentally thought within her active mind.

i am not an animal.

"You are not an animal." Sam continued. "A human uses the cavity in the mouth and the two nose holes to moisten and heat the air molecules through the action of inhaling and then exhaling breathes, which in turn, provides oxygen to the lungs. Else the human will die," he softly chuckled and then stated. "When you sweat and feel heated, your biological human body cools down by exhaling heated streams of warm air molecules from your mouth and your two nose holes. Thus, the individual positions of the trachea for breathes and the esophagus for food down inside the human throat is a risky physical pose but allows for all of the complex and simple human word structure coming from the throat through the parted lips." He back stepped with a smile at Fawn.

She closed her lips and opened her two eyelashes, working her tight jaw line at the physician, mentally thinking within her active mind.

he found something that can help me. i will be able to talk out loud and communicate with Ace, all of his super friendly friends and his sweet biological daughter and his wonderful grandfather. i do not care to talk to magritte. she is not a nice woman.

Sam nodded. "I did not find a rupture in the lining of your voice cords. I do not see any blood proteins or bleeding coming from the lining on your voice cords. I did not find a single callus nodule growth on your voice cords or inside your throat. And I did not see a sac-like bumpy cyst or polyp bump. That is all good for you. Sometimes, these particular nasty clinical conditions can be treated but can occur over and over again which requires continuous treatment which is very expensive and inconvenience.

She exhaled with disappointment and mentally thought within her active mind.

these are the same words that dr. mccoo told me.

Sam smiled. "These must be the same words that Dr. McCoo told you. But I am not finished wtih my medical examination, Fawn. I am proceeding very slowly and cautiously, because I do not want to miss or misinterpret anything the wrong way. I am going to check on your cooked urine and stool samples. For my next trick," she laughed out loud and spun around to face the opposite side of dark brown paint. "Please slide off the examination table and sat down in the chair with a nicely padded bottom. That is where I will conduct my next examination." Fawn smiled at the set of happier words coming from the smart physician and slid off the table, moving ahead, sitting down on top of the padded seat. She bounced up and down with deep internal emotional feelings of worry and hope at the same thing, if that was even possible.

At 11:44 am, a stretch limousine of 30 feet in length was colored in light tan hue and slowly traveled down Mobile Street in the mid-day heated blaze leaving the Mobile Hospital on Hospital Drive and turned east onto Springhill Avenue. The luxury vehicle was driven by a paid chauffeur in the cab with a dark black partition between the cab compartment and the rear seat, blocking the owner. There was a glass window section, where the passengers could see the forward roadway, if desired. Communicating with the chauffeur was possible with a silver tinted button on the arm rest using the internal intercom system. However, the chauffeur had already received her directions from the owner of the transport. Magritte sat in the rear compartment seat and munched on a plate of exotic white colored cream cheese and soft tan colored crackers while settling her upset stomach. She loved traveling by limousine, but her stomach did not. She always needed to munch salty food items without vomiting up her breakfast meal down onto the lush tan colored floor carpet.

She turned to face the side glass window and chewed the food admiring the view of Springhill Avenue roadway, heading due east towards the Mobile River, where the sea elevation is ten feet and three inches up from the calm waves of nasty river water.

Her personal home residence was in the opposite direction, within the neighborhood community of Spring Hill, inside Mobile County, in the city of Mobile and six miles west of downtown Mobile.

Spring Hill community boasts the highest sea elevation throughout the landscape at 184 feet high from the rolling ocean waters. The name came from the number of natural spring creeks below the rolling hills by the earliest French settlers in the early 1800s.

By the year 1828, sections of five acre lots sold at the rate of 100 dollars-per-acre to any and all land developers. At the time, the swampy landscape surrounding downtown Mobile was infested with biting mosquitoes which infected the citizens coming from the extreme humidity, heat, and rain shower creating the yellow fever epidemic, during the warm months of the calendar year.

The group of smarter and wealthier Mobilians learned that the western hills six miles outside the city remained free from both fever and disease and started to build a summer home on top of five acre of land which became known as the Spring Hill community. At first, the summer homes were built in cottage style between the years 1830 and 1840. In the year 1850, the large country plantation featured the Greek Revival house style that dominated the pre-civil war era.

The most famous structure is Spring Hill College off of the city street named Tuthill Lane. Roman Catholic Bishop Michael Portier purchased 300 acres of land and built a Jesuit seminary and boarding school. Spring Hill College is the oldest institution of higher education in the State of Alabama and the oldest Catholic college in the South and the fifth oldest college in the United States of America.

In the year 1832, in the month of January, a structure of cast iron and wooden pipes started construction bringing fresh water into the downtown Mobile coming from a natural spring on a hill within the Spring Hill community, which is the present day Mobile Water and Sewer Station.

In the year 1839, horse-drawn wagons connected Springhill Avenue to the streets of downtown Mobile. In the year 1850, Old Shell Road was constructed and completed using a bed of crushed oyster shells linking the country road of Springhill Avenue to each large plantation sugar and cotton farms and all of the growing summer hotels.

In the rear of the rolling limousine, Magritte giggled with chewed food particles inside her mouth. "Keep it in the family, mama!" Food particles flew from her parted lips in the air, down on her dress, dropped on the floor.

The Battle brothers built the Battle House Hotel, on St. Francis Street, in the year 1852, and also built Spring Hill Inn, within the Spring Hill community. The Inn had burned down to the ground in the year 1918 and was not rebuilt.

Spring Hill community is known for numerous historical places including Beal-Gaillard House in the year 1836; Carolina Hall in the year 1832; Center-Gaillard House in the year 1829; Collins-Marston House in the year 1832; James Arthur Morrison House in the year 1929; Saint Paul's Episcopal Chapel in the year 1859; Spring Hill College in the year 1869, Stewartfield House in the year 1849, and other ancient homes, including Smith Cottage.

In the rear of the rolling limousine, Magritte blew out more slimy chewed food particles in the air, down on top of her dress, and dropped them on top of the floor mat. "I can't believe it. I can't believe that house is one of the national registered historical places here in Alabama, much less in the USA. My house should also become a nationally registered historical home site like Ace's Fortress. What a disgusting name? Attila's Fortress. Why! Why! Why is that house famous among the archives here in the South, but not mine? I don't know but will continue to uncover the true truth. Attila has lots of money, but I possess more monies. Attila somehow bribed one of the simple-minded clerks at the local office of the National Register Historical Place in downtown Mobile. That's it! That's it! I figured it out. So now, I need to continue to search for Ace's American and sub-American family tree. However, I can't find a flea or tick on his grandfather or his father or his great-grandfather or his great-great grandfather. What was his original country? Well, I do not know the answer to that question either. Attila did not talk about any of his ancient kinfolks. Now, he never will." She laughed out loud and then frowned. "Well, I'll keep looking for my answers, of course," she brushed both of her dirty hands in the air and cleaned off more food crumbs onto her dress, whipping out her personal mobile telephone, whispering for her eardrums only, activating the phone. She typed on the tiny keyboard and stared down at the tiny screen. "I know all of the ancient stories about my blood relatives. I am the great-great granddaughter of Marguerite Pamelia Savaray, who at the age of fifteen years was a lady-in-waiting for Maria Antoinette, Queen of France. Marguerite had left her homeland of France and sailed on a sea vessel named the Pelican to the New World.

"In the year 1704, in the New World, at the French colony and fort named Fort Louis de la Mobile, twenty years old Marguerite met and then married a nice French officer becoming one of the original 23 "Pelican Girls" and the first natives of Mobile among the American colonies. So, I am truly a true native American girl here in the USA. However, I can't believe that I didn't marry another blue-blood Mobilian. Well, I had no choice here. There was not one single blue-blooded male left in the city of Mobile matching my chronological age. I could find a younger blue-blooded male either. And if I wanna get my ancestral home named Pamelia Plantation listed on the USA National Register, then I needed to marry another native Mobilian. So, I found out and accidentally met and then married Samuel Attila Smith, very swiftly. However, I do not believe that Attila is one of the ancient and original blue-blooded Mobilians. I can't find his surname anywhere within the genealogy register here in the city of Mobile or here in the US State of Alabama or here in the USA database. I have found the Smith surname within the US State of Alabama including Edward Smith, John Smith, and David Smith. Common surnames, I could never find Attila Smith's family background. I have searched for Solomon surname and Smithman surname, which has not provided a lead forward to Attila Smith either. What did he say about his family tree? He didn't talk about his family tree; but he did talk about that old house. What did he tattle to me? Ace had inherited that old house from his parents, who were murdered by a trio of nasty teenagers, who did not serve a day in jail. but the trio of nasty teenagers did disappear off the planet or at least left the city of Mobile, before Attila killed them with his two bare hands. I didn't know that fact, but I do know the man. Well, I have also learned swiftly from Attila, too," she laughed out loud and continued to talk to the partition. The chauffeur could not hear her private conversation as the driver was paid very well to become deaf, blind, and dumb, all the time.

She frowned. "That old house is a colonial mansion with a wrap-around porch on both the bottom and upper levels on that two-story floor plan, which had been built in year 1833. The ancient year of 1833 perfectly matches all of the other ancient cottages and antebellum plantation homes here in the Spring Hill community. That old colonial mansion had been built a native Englishmen on top of five acres of weeds and trees. That's it! That's all of my collected and shared information. There must a clue there that I have not uncovered," Magritte continued to type on the tiny keyboard while staring at the tiny screen on her personal mobile telephone while her limousine slowly traveled through each traffic light.

At 11: 51 am, back at the medical building on the second floor, Fawn sat in the chair watching the physician. Sam spun around with a smile and reached out, grabbing a second chair, pulling in front of his new patient. He sat down. "Now, I am going to use one of the bigger words that Dr. McCoo used during her medical examination, a laryngoscope procedure. There are two types of laryngoscope tests, which are labeled direct and indirect. I bet you can deduct that an indirect medical procedure is a swifter method and less painful and you are correct. That silly, young physician could have performed an indirect laryngoscope procedure and not scared you with all of that medical babble, completing a thorough examination of your throat, based on your current medical records. My next medical test requires your body upright and balanced in that chair. That sounds funny, but I will explain in more detail. Sit upright and straight in the high back hair. I will not need to numb your tongue or use a local anesthetic drug on my body. This simple medical procedure is really fast, and my decades of medical experience will apply here. Open your mouth and stick out your tongue like a three year old child!" He softly laughed. Fawn sat upright in the chair and opened her mouth, closing her two eyelashes, crossing all of her finger and toe bones with luck.

He said. "Next, I am going to cover your long pink-tinted tongue, which is blocking my view down your throat with a soft gauze pad. You will feel like gagging or vomiting, please don't." She stuck out her tongue without sound. Sam placed the gauze over her tongue and continued to lecture, reaching over, grabbing a new medical instrument and said with a smile. "I am going to insert a small mirror down into your throat and explore the tissue area using my medical skills and my pair of medical eyeballs." He held the gauze with one hand and lifted his arm, slowly moving a tiny mirror through the parted lips, over her tongue, gently dropping down the front part of her throat. "Make a sound inside your throat for me. I know that your voice cords cannot produce a sound, but your larynx or voice box still moves for you and for me." She pushed air molecules from her tight throat, without a sweet sound. He continued to examine her throat and said. "I do not see a foreign object down in your throat, but I see," he whipped out the mirror and then removed the wet gauze from her tongue, rolling the wheeled chair away from Fawn, nodding with a smile. "Fawn, I found it."

She opened her two eyelashes and gasped in shock without producing a sweet sound, staring at the physician. He nodded with a smile. "You have fibrosis."

She frowned with puzzlement without jumping up from the chair with joyous happiness and did not believe his medical term. No other physician had so quickly found her voice cord issue for months. She mentally thought within her active mind.

is he lying to me? i have been located here inside his office suite for one hour. If it is true, is that good or bad? i am going to become cured. i cannot ask any questions. i do not understand.

He nodded with a smile and wiggled both of his hands in the air. "I am going to explain your medical condition of fibrosis. So, please listen and try to comprehend. And I will write all of your medical information down inside my personal mobile telephone for your medical records. Each vocal cord is a long band of elastic muscle tissue which are located side to side inside your voice box above the windpipe. Each vocal cord can become strained or damaged by infections, tumors, and trauma of singing or yelling in harmony or off-key," Sam laughed. "When a person is quiet, the voice cords stay open creating an airway for breathing. When a person talks, the voice cords close shut and as streams of heated air molecules coming out from your two lungs is forced through the closed door, making the voice box vibrate with sound. When the vibrate is faster, a human produces a high-pitched sound. When the vibrate is slower, a human produces a low-pitched sound.

"A pair of strained, not injured vocal cords is a nuisance and not a severe problem for a talking human. If the strained pair of vocal cords did not heal, then the human is experiencing another medical problem. For the past few days, you have been visiting with an assortment of medical physician, who have concluded correctly that you do not possess any common vocal cord disorders including a single callus-like nodule growth or a sac-like cyst fluid or an ulcer or reflux condition. The medical condition laryngitis is a swelling of the vocal cords which is caused by inflammation from the common cold, which cannot be cured but corralled with plenty of body rest and wet exterior beverage fluids. An infection will swell each vocal cord and then change the sound of the human voice, sometimes, permanently cutting off sound. The medical condition of laryngitis is caused by a vocal abuse or allergies or a viral infection or reflux of stomach acids or irritating cigarette smoke or too much alcohol drinks. Some of your physicians thought you secretively were drinking alcoholic beverages which was making your voice cords swell up and appear closer to each other. That is a logical conclusion without more medical test and a pair of trained medical eyeballs, like mine. This is reason for collecting all of your immediately bodily fluids, where I had quickly eliminated a parasite or another organism, which was negative.

"You do not possess a single vocal cord tumor or a group of cancerous cells or vocal cord paralysis. A vocal cord paralysis occurs when one or both vocal folds do not open and close properly. You do not exhibit head or neck trauma or a neurological disease, such like Parkinson's disease or multiple sclerosis. You have not had a stroke or a viral infection or a debilitating disease or inhaled a corticosteroid medicine spray. From your medical records, you did not experience trauma during your birth from your biological mother. You do not exhibit any clinical symptoms that is related to damaged voice cords, such like, hoarseness, a low-pitched voice timber, breathy voice, loss of a musical vocal range, throat pain, a tired speaking voice, a fever, continuous clearing your throat, discomforted or strained cords, difficulty swallowing, a lump in the throat, unexplained pain, or coughing up bloody spit." He wiggled side to side and nodded to Fawn. "Now, I am going veer in a different direction. Each vocal cord is shaped as a flat triangular band and is almost colored in white hue." He lifted his hand and formed a lousy triangle shaped with his thumb pad and index finger pad with a long hollow oval-shape, outlining each finger. "On each vocal cord, the outside lining surface is covered in a layer of mucus that provides a watery environment keeping each voice cord moist and lubricated. The layer of moist mucus that is stretched horizontally going back to front across the windpipe protecting the delicate tissue. Males and females possess a different voice fold size. A male possesses a longer and thicker pair of voice folds, which produces a lower pitch. The voice folds on a child are shorter than an adult while sounding with a squeaky-mousy timber, until the child reaches teenly puberty. The length of the voice fold at birth is six millimeters and then grows sixteen millimeters into adulthood. So, each voice fold had successful grow-up healthy and fit into a pair of adult voice cords. Now, I have explained the physical composite on a pair of voice folds or cords, for a specific purpose. How does all of this medical and biological information relate to you, Fawn? I have the answer after reading through your past and current medical records.

"When your evil biological mother used the sharp knife and cut your external throat muscles, she tore the external tissue skin and created a tiny hole within your throat muscles, slicing down into your windpipe that was used for breathing. I don't know why you didn't die from the severe injury as a baby. Maybe, the torn hole was small enough from death and large enough for breathing. However, once your internal windpipe was torn open, you could not cry out loud from the pain. Once the paramedic found your hidden and wounded tiny infant body, he inserted a tiny medical tube through the bloody hole that saved your infant life force, but you still could not cry or scream or coo." He clapped with a smile. "That's it! That's it! That's it! I figured it all out, Fawn."

Fawn continued to sit and smiled at the physician without understanding his conclusion, mentally thinking within her active mind.

that's great. can you heal or fix my broken vocal cords? don't explain! just do it, right here and right now! then i can go back home and speak with ace using my natural voice. i wonder what my natural timber sounds like coming from my fixed vocal cords.

Sam nodded with a smile. "Stenosis is an abnormal narrowing in a blood vessel or a tubular organ or the muscle tissues or the bone structure. Spinal stenosis is the abnormal narrowing of the spinal canal. Aortic stenosis is the abnormal narrowing of the valve in the blood vessel branching off from the heart or aorta. carotid artery stenosis is the abnormal narrowing of the blood vessels in the neck that carry blood from the heart organ up into the brain matter. Lumber spinal stenosis is the abnormal narrowing of the open spaces in the lower lumbar spine. Sub-glottic stenosis is the abnormal narrowing of the windpipe tissue below the voice cords. However, you have not experienced any of these listed stenosis abnormal narrowing medical conditions inside your healthy body, within our blood vessels or tubular organs or muscles or bone structures.

"Trauma is the most common cause of any type of stenosis abnormal narrowing medical condition in children, teenagers, and adults. Ninety percent of all acquired chronic sub-glottic stenosis medical cases involving an abnormal narrowing within the windpipe in children, teenagers, and adults comes from an endotracheal intubation, during an emergency situation. Also, the medical condition of congenital sub-glottic stenosis abnormal narrowing of the windpipe tissue is listed a rare birth defect in babies. The cause of a congenital sub-glottic stenosis medical condition is unknown at this time, within the medical field, on each affected infant, but the clinical result creates scar tissue formation within the windpipe due to prolonged endotracheal intubation or airway surgery. Do you understand all of this medical information, Fawn? This is incredible. This is amazing. You are a medical mystery that I have solved. I should write up your medical mystery and publish my clinical findings in one of the medical journals. This is it. I have found the root cause of your lack of speech."

She shook her curls with a fake smile and indicated that she did not understand the physician, mentally pondering within her active mind.

what is the root cause? i do not understand your medical words or terms. i do not need to understand your medical words or terms. just help me, right here and right now. fix my damaged vocal cords, right here and right now.

Sam frowned. "O! I can see that you are still confusion with my new medical discovery as I continue to use all of my medical buzz words. When the paramedic found you and then inserted a tiny medical tube down into the tiny bloody hole on your torn throat muscles, you could not scream or speech due to the tube. At the hospital emergency room, the pediatric surgery replaced the bloody tube from the paramedic with a tiny infant ventilator machine, so you could breath and stay alive but could not scream or speak. The pediatrician had no choice but to leave the tiny man-made breathing machine inside your tore throat tissues, until the tissue muscles healed, before removing the man-made devise, so you could continue to breathe on your own. Your lack of sound had started that day as a two week old injury infant.

Essentially, your mother performed a baby tracheotomy medical procedure that did not kill your infant body, in which, you continued to inhale air molecules and then exhale air molecule keeping you alive and healthy. Her non-surgical hole in the outer skin on your wounded neck went through your windpipe, below the voice box, which is really called a tracheotomy medical procedure. The hole bypassed the throat tissues and did not block the proper air pathway during your baby slumber or with your baby injury. Infection was the first terrible risk, in which, the pediatrician treated with antibodies.

"A newborn possesses a loose voice cord structure, without a vocal ligament. A vocal ligament is a layered structure which starts working on sound phonation that develops during the infancy stage through the adolescence phase. In a newborn baby, the vocal cords are composed of hyaluronic acid, fibronectin, fibroblasts, elastic fibers, and collagenous fibers. Those are some long, fancy medical words that aid the watery environment within the baby human's windpipe for vocal biomechanics, such like, crying from cold air, screaming for warm breast milk, and yelling from painful medical vaccination shots. Fibronectin acts like a growing skeleton structure for tissue formation. Your set of collagen fibers remained stable. Over time as a baby, the voice fold structure continued to grow and change, without producing a sound. The outer surface of each voice fold contained the mucus fluid which set and hardened over the tissue.

"A growing child possesses one layer on their vocal cords, still without vocal ligament, where an adult possesses three layers on the mature vocal cords. The vocal ligament becomes present at the age of four years old in a child. Two layers on each voice cord develops at the age of six which matures during adolescent, which is part of the teenly changes from girl to woman. I wanna point out that the voice fold vibration is the foundation for vocalizing words and sounds that distinguishes a child from an adult. An adult female voice timber is three tones lower than a child.

During teenly puberty, starting at the age of twelve years old, the voice timber will change, which is controlled by the sex hormones. In a female teenager, the voice muscle thickens and remains supple and narrow from a male teenager during the change. This chemical action is very important here. The layer of continuous wet, moist mucus on the edge of each vocal fold is dependent on estrogen and progesterone hormones coming from the teenly human body. The female estrogen hormone waters the voice fold while female progesterone hormone dries out the voice fold to open and then shut the windpipe while lubricating each voice cord for singing, screaming and speaking, of course. The pair of voice cords is similar to lubricating the set of rubber belts inside your automobile. Else, each belt will dry out, then the automobile will not run properly.

"During your teenly puberty stage, your non-working pair of voice cords were becoming wet and then dry, without any type of vocal biomechanics occurring which caused the mucus wetness to set and then hardened all over the tissue edge on each vocal fold.

"Right now, this is the reason for your fibrosis medical condition of continuous scarring on each one of your healthy voice cords as a two-week old infant. Then, your set of voice cords became worse during your teenly puberty. Thus, you cannot produce a sweet musical note or a soft girly giggle or a loud English word.

"Now, based on my medical knowledge and my trained medical eyeballs, your voice folds display the proper length and roundness and are located in the larynx, above the trachea, which does not wiggle or vibrate for proper sound phonation. During your teenly puberty stage, the vocal ligament has formed with both of the elastic and collagenous fibers which are densely packed bundles that run parallel on the edge of each vocal fold, which leads to your mature voice timber that might sing the rigors of an opera performance. I don't know if you can sing with an angelic operatic voice; but I will be finding out, soonest." He softly chuckled and winked at his new patient.

Fawn smiled with a nod for the first time while hearing the set of nice words for fixing her voice cords, mentally thinking within her active mind.

that's so nice. i don't know if i can sing soprano and i do not care to possess a singing voice, only a speaking voice while talking to ace and his friends and his family members. just fix me right here and right now. stop with the medical lecture, please, sir!

He frowned. "However, if the tissue condition on the elastic and collagenous fibers are poor or decreased, during your teenly puberty stage, then your vocal muscles might be damaged. Thus, you will never talk or sing or laugh. Fibrous proteins provide strength that supports the voice cords during periods of stress and resists deformation, when each elastic fiber stretches all of the watery tissues and then allows the voice cords to return back into their original shape as a teenager yells at her silly boyfriend," he softly laughed and as Fawn smiled. He said. "I must explain the reward and the risk, Fawn. This is my job as a trained and licensed medical physician sharing all of the medical information with my patient. Honestly, the human body is remarkable chemical and biological machine that only the Prime Creator understands, such like, a pair of voice cords. No earthling or alien medical scientist understands the grow of six millimeter voice folds into sixteen millimeter voice cords, unless a greater power lets us in on the secret."

She nodded in silence.

if a greater power is needed, then i will start praying for a miracle too.

He smiled. "I told you the bad news. Actually, I thought the use of hyperbaric oxygen chamber treatment by Dr. McCoo would sheer off some of the hardened scar tissue covering each one of your voice folds. As that radical, medical procedure did not work on your affected cords, I have some better news. Chemical hormones play an important part in growing a pair of adult voice folds. A chemical human hormone is a chemical molecule that is secreted into the blood stream and then delivered to a specific spot within the biological body that promotes growth and functionality for each organ and tissue through intracellular receptors, gene expression, and protein synthesis. I know my medical statement is a mouthful of words. But the human larynx is affected by an array of chemical hormones, when hearing the difference between the timber of a man and a woman or hearing a male teenage voice pattern change from a boy into a man during male puberty. The female menstruation process influences her pair of voice folds. During the pre-menstrual cycle, each female singer is encouraged not to perform one of their singing shows as their natural female voice drops down a musical octave while singing. Thus, I can see without performing any medical tests that your girly hormones are working fine and dandy. So, I am encouraged here. Also, the phonatory sound changes the voice folds from a screaming baby, into a yelling teenager, into a mature adult, and finally at crumbling old person. The pair of voice folds, in an elderly male, thickens due to increased collagen deposits. In an old lady, her set of voice cords becomes covered in thick mucus liquid which affects her natural timber," Sam laughed with a nod. "That piece of true medical fact reminds me that when your pair of voice folds are finally fixed, you must start out sounding like a crabby, croaky old woman," he softly chuckled and as Fawn nodded with a smile feeling hope for the first time. He smiled and extended both of his arms to the side. "There! You have heard the entire fairy tale. I have found the root cause of your lack of phonics or speech or laughter or singing," he dropped both of his hands down into his lap. Fawn gasped in shock but didn't produce a sound, slapping one cupped hand to her naked throat. Sam nodded. "Surgical trauma from thyroid surgery on any neck or chest will cause the patient to experience temporary or permanent loss of speech. Your surgical trauma was the baby tracheotomy by your mother, followed by the field tracheotomy by the paramedic and finally the emergency tracheotomy by the pediatrician in the hospital's emergency room. When that tube was inside your windpipe, the layer of mucus did not have an escape pathway up the esophagus, over the tongue, and out from your parted lips. Thus, the wet, moist liquid stayed and hardened on your non-working voice cords creating fibrosis scar tissue that has thickened the edge of each vocal fold lining. And I have a solution that will fix your phonation mechanics as your pair of voice cords are healthy, not damaged, Fawn. A simple, non-dangerous outpatient surgery procedure will remove the fibrosis scarring from your pair of healthy voice cords. An endoscopic dilation procedure using laser surgery will quickly remove the built-up of scar tissue on each voice fold which will open up your windpipe for speaking and singing and screaming. Based on my slick manual mirror technique, the size and thickness of each scar band on each voice fold is quite small, not massively large. So, one single surgery procedure is needed and will be quite swift and your recovery time will be swifter," he laughed with a nod. "During an endoscopic dilation medical procedure, the patient is located inside a hospital's operating room and is temporarily sedated for pain management and non-control of their tongue movements. The mouth is opened. A laser instrument emits a fine stream of electromagnetic radiation on the edge of the voice fold, slowly peeling off a layer of the hardened scar tissue. The thin, flaky residual will drift up from the mouth and float around the air currents. Each piece of scar tissue is made of watery mucus. the laser devise is heating the hardened water into a gaseous form. This surgery will take a few hours inside the operating room. Once the scar tissue has been removed, your voice folds will start to vibrate through your widened windpipe, like a normal person, and then you produce sound for the first time, since you were two weeks old infant. This is a medical miracle. You will experience some swelling on your voice folds from the outpatient surgery procedure which will take four to six weeks to heal. Then you will be able to speech, laugh, giggle, talk, sing, scream, yell, holler, and produce an array of sweet and nasty sounds for the rest of your living days."

Fawn softly clapped with a smile and bounced up and down in the padded chair with happiness. She wanted to leave the physician and go the USA Coast Guard military base, finding and telling Ace through her touch-communication the great news of fixing her voice folds. This was his last day at his working job, readying for retirement. She waved both of her arms in the air and tried to giggle but could not produce a sweet musical tone, pointing all of her ten finger pads at the physician, nodding wtih joyous happiness. She continued to dance in the padded chair with extremely contentment and could not wait to tattle to Ace also.

Sam gasped in alarm and shook his bone skull, wearing a sad frown, saying to Fawn. "I am so sorry here, Fawn. I am both an infectious diseases medical physician and an operating room surgeon. I understand the surgical procedures. Because I had treated numerous patients with idiopathic sub-glottic stenosis, using an endoscopic dilation of the tracheal stenosis, with a laser devise or an inflatable balloon or performed an open neck surgery resection on the affected tracheal segment with end-to-end anastomosis and..." he exhaled with worry. "I have permanently retired from performing any and all trachea surgery procedures, since the first of the summer," he lifted up both of his hands that mildly shook in the air, nodding with a stern face. Fawn dropped both of her arms down into her lap and studied his two hands that wiggled in the air waves, halting her tears of sadness. He nodded with a sad face. "My pair of surgery hands shake in the air, on the table, and down by my rib cage now. I cannot be trusted to touch a delicate pair of damaged or healthy voice folds on a baby or a teenager or a pretty young woman with a mild case of fibrosis. I am getting too old to complete the medical surgery. I am so sorry."

She nodded with a stern face and rotated her two naked hands in the air while communicating to the smart physician using a lousy set of sign language. He exhaled with worry and nodded with a stern face. "I do not need a stet of vocal words to understand your posed question. I am the only trained and certified operating surgeon for any type of medical sub-glottic stenosis around here in the city of Mobile. I can recommend three very good responsible ear, nose, and throat physicians. One of them can easily perform your simple surgical procedure, if she or he dares too. The voice folds are a treaty and delicate set of soft tissues, within the human body. The physician is not setting a broken bone or extracting a set of bad tonsils. If another good doctor wants to try, then the physician can mess up the voice cords and then permanently damage your throat or your life," he reached out and grabbed a pad of paper, writing down the three names with an ink pen, looking up and extended the paper to Fawn.

She gasped in shock and wrapped both of her arms around her body, mentally thinking within her active mind.

i wanna live, not die. i wanna marry ace and become happier. i am willing to sacrifice my speech for my long years of life.

She nodded with a sad face and slowly stood upright from the padded chair, extending her hand, accepting the piece of paper with three physician names, without seeing the information. She smiled at the smart older physician and then spun around, slowly moving back to the lavatory, streaming a roll of heated tears of sadness and disappointment.

The physician continued to sit and stared at the back spine on the young woman, exhaling with disappointment, looking down at his two shaky hands of death.

Fawn reached the open archway and closed the lavatory door, softly crying with her deep sorrow, slowly changing back into her regular clothes. She would return back home to Ace's house and paint a fake smile on her somber face while burying her failure and disappointment from the gang of southern belles, Magritte, Gem, and her fiancé Ace for the rest of her life, without healing her damaged voice cords.

At 01:12 am, among the heated blistering air waves, inside the cold-feeling rear compartment of the tan colored limousine, Magritte continued to study the screen on her personal mobile telephone and whispered for her eardrums only while her chauffeur continued to steer through the heavy rows of slow-moving vehicles down Springhill Avenue.

She said. "Byre, Jackson, Howell, Sullivan, Worley. Even the electronic Alabama genealogy database does not display the surname of Smith. What am I doing wrong here?" Magritte looked up and smiled at the new site. The limousine was trying to turn off from Springhill Avenue and head due east onto St. Francis Street. She wanted to ask her chauffeur to drive around the corner traveling down Government Street, admiring the ancient historical buildings. However, the hour was lunchtime for the workers which exhibited every worker in an automobile driving on each city street during the newest heat wave in Mobile. The city was too far from the Gulf of Mexico sea breeze.

Government Street was created in the year 1820 starting at the edge of the Mobile River running westward for ten miles. The foundation road had been filled with the broken bricks and other building materials from the demolished Fort Conde. After the completion of the new roadway, Government Street became known as the millionaire's row in the city, sporting the largest and grandest mansions lining the new street, where all of them had been demolished in the year 1980 including the Le Vert House in the year 1827; William G. Chandler Mansion; Jonathan Emanuel Mansion and the Murray Forbes Smith Mansion.

On top of the smooth leather bench seat, Magritte gasped in shock. "Smith! Smith! There is a blue-blood American citizen with the surname of Smith. How did I miss this man during my research? The Murray Forbes Smith Mansion came with the man, who used the same surname. Is Attila one of the grandchildren from Murray Forbes Smith?" She typed on the keyboard of her telephone and then frowned. "No. Murray Forbes Smith was birthed in the US State of Virginia in the year 1814, after the start of the War of 1812, a second battle for American independence from the nasty country of England. Well, Murray Forbes Smith is not a native Mobilian. Attila is a native Mobilian, but not a blue-blood American." She looked up and frowned through the side glass window, pondering the shops on Government Street while the limousine slowly cruised down St. Francis Street towards her final destination.

In the year 1701, the French soldiers claimed the Gulf coast shoreline starting in present-day city of Pensacola in northern Florida heading towards present-day city of Galveston in eastern Texas as _La Louisiane_.

In the year 1702, the French soldiers and colonists build **Fort Louis de la Louisiane** as the first capital of the _La Louisiane_ lands.

In the month of March, in the year 1703, the "Little Easy," the nickname for the seaport city of Mobile and the capital of the colonial French La Louisiane from the native Mobilians organized and then celebrated the first Mardi Gras party here in the New World.

Magritte shook her curls and sneered. "Then Ace's sister was murdered by her daughter Gem on Fat Tuesday. Well, that little incident tainted all of the Mardi Gras parties, throughout the city, that night. Now, I'm married to the dead woman's grandfather. What a small world!" She frowned. "Well, that's over with now." She continued to stare out the glass window, without seeing Government Street.

Historically, after the year 1703, after numerous land battles with the British and Spanish and American soldiers, the Americans won creating the center point reference within the seaport of Mobile, Government Street. The street is lined with trees and displayed ancient buildings from the early 19th century.

Currently, the Lower Dauphin Street or the cute nickname LoDa is the entertainment district with musical theaters, small cafes, and weird shops for a visitor or a patron.

Bienville Square features a water fountain with wooden benches and bistro tables watching all of the local festivals including musical concerts and children's events throughout the year.

From one city block away, you can stroll down to Cathedral Square featuring the 180-year-old Cathedral-Basilica of the Immaculate Conception church with exterior walls of stained glass windows and interior marble floors, which was built in the year 1835, and it was the first Catholic parish church located on the Gulf Coast.

After studying each one of the city street-level historical buildings, you can take your evening dinner inside the rooftop restaurant at 424 feet high within the Trustmark building seeing the panoramic skyline and the Mobile Bay salty waters.

Magritte personally enjoyed visiting the Mobile Carnival Museum, which was located on Government Street, in the middle of the roadway, inside two-story brightly painted yellow tinted cider block house that featured a court jester statue in electric blue hue and neon orange tint welcoming each visitor to the ancient festival of yesteryears from the first Mardi Gras party in the year 1703 in Mobile.

Her favorite artifact was displayed against the rear wall, on the second floor inside the Mobile Carnival Museum that housed rows of ancient costumes, capes, and charms that featured a diamond-encrusted royal crown coming from one of the ancient, dead French princesses, which has purposefully been stolen by her young clever and ambitious lady-in-waiting from the French court and the royal bedroom chamber.

No other native Mobilian knew the name of the French lady-in-waiting but Magritte. Of course, the young female was Magritte's great-great grandmother, who quietly sailed away from the country of France and landed in the New World, in the year 1704, starting her new life adventure as a newly married wife to a French lieutenant and the rest was part of the ancient American history books.

Each attendee, during the Mardi Gras Day event, wears a fun or regal body costume consisting of fairies or animals or mythological gods and goddesses or silly circus clowns or Medieval royals. No peasants here. Each elaborate creation is decorated with colorful feathers, a specifically designed face mask, and a long glittery body cape. Mardi Gras is not a celebration of Halloween holiday wearing a face mask, such like, a zombie, a mummy, a flying bat, a witch, but the event carries a death theme usually with a golden face mask and an elaborate themed-costume. A Mardi Gras is celebration of life, before Ash Wednesday, which is a day of somber peace.

The Mardi Gras Day parade includes colorful motorized grand floats featuring exquisite costumed riders and live animals leading to the house or the hotel for the one of many Mardi Gras masked balls that lasts until the wee morning hours.

Currently, on St. Francis Street roadway, the tan colored limousine continued to sit in heavy lunch-hour traffic and as Magritte softly giggled with her deep secret, looking back down at the screen on her personal mobile telephone, typing on the tiny keyboard. "My daydream has finished. Back to my homework assignment!

At 01:12 pm, back inside the medical building, on the second floor, the lavatory door swung open and revealed Fawn, who wore a sad, wet face holding back her hot tears of disappointment, wearing her pink tinted outfit. She moved ahead in silence and turned, nodding to Sam Germer.

The medical physician continued to sit in the stool in the middle of the way waving back a final goodbye, without speaking. There was nothing more to say or do for the young female without surgery procedure on her fibrosis coated voice folds.

Fawn left the examination room and exited the strange room with four dark walls in dark brown paint, without a glass window for viewing the bright rays of heated sunshine in the city of Mobile, looking down, flooding her face in heated tears. She would return back home to Ace's house and paint a fake smile on her somber face while burying her failure and disappointment from the gang of southern belles, Magritte, Gem, and her fiancé Ace for the rest of her life, without healing her damaged voice cords.

Her light brown colored hair roots crashed into a stationary tall object and as Fawn stopped in place, looking up with a face of tears, gasping in shock, without making a sound and viewed the obstacle.

The tall object was an unknown female, with a head of cropped red tinted hair strands, a sweet smile, a tone of pink-tinted skin, and a pair of green tinted eyeballs, wearing a pair of pink tinted walking shorts, a matching sleeveless blouse, a matching shoulder bag, and a pair of matching flat sandals. She gasped in shock and back stepped from Fawn. "O! I am so sorry. I was looking for the medical office. Are you alright? You appear upset. I am so sorry. Did I upset you? I don't mean to upset you, young miss?"

Fawn exhaled with disappointment and shook her curls in silence, nodding with a fake smile of sorrow, scooting around the unknown woman and slowly padded towards the middle of the hallway.

The unknown woman spun around and watched Fawn. Fawn stopped in front of the elevator door in the middle of an empty hallway while staring down at the floor, wiping off more hot tears of disappointment. She reached up and pressed the button. The door opened and revealed a carriage of people. She entered into the crowded carriage. The door closed shut.

The unknown woman swung back around and examined the side wall, slowly padding down the tan colored wall, stopping at the last door. She reached out and opened the door, pulling out a hand gun from her purse, entering the lobby room. The room was squared shaped with four dark brown painted walls and empty of personnel. She continued inside the room and called out loud. "Hello! Is anyone in here? Are here located here inside the suite? I have an appointment."

Sam Germer heard the loud words and frowned with puzzlement. He was not expecting a second medical patient today. He stood upright from the stool and left the examination room, standing a few feet from the archway, gasping in shock at the middle aged woman. "Who are you? What do you want here with me? What are you doing holding a hand gun? This is a medical office, not a bank lobby. I do not carry around cash monies. Get outta of here right now, before I am required to call the police authorities."

The unknown woman pointed the cold barrel on the hand gun at the forehead on Sam and moseyed directly ahead, stopping a few feet from his upright body, nodding with a smile. "Now, you tell me everything about that young female, who just left your medical office! What did you do to her?"

He sneered. "That is none of your business, Miss Robber."

She winked. "Actually, it is all of my business and my gun agrees wtih me. Tell me right now! I don't like games, only points."

At 01:14 pm, on Springhill Avenue, inside the rear compartment of the limousine, Magritte whispered down at her phone. "What have I missed in my search for Samuel Attila Smith? The man lives, but not for long, thou," she softly giggled. "Ace's mansion was constructed in the year 1833 and was built by an Englishman, who could have been Ace's great-great-great grandfather. An Englishman. Attila's family tree hails from the country of England. I did miss something important during my numerous searches on the internet. Now, I have a new clue. Ace's family tree grew up in the country of England. However, back then, some of the immigrants purposefully changed their surname, because they could not read or write, or they were escaping crimes of passion or thievery, like my great-great-great grandmother Pamelia. Pamelia, you were a naughty girl," she frowned. "So, if the name Smith is an incorrect surname from the country of England, then what would the true surname of Ace's ancient family tree had been? Wait a minute! Ace's house and Attila's house both bear the original floor plan and the original land plots, so their kin purchased or stolen or robbed the land from the Native American Indians or the true native Mobilians in the year 1833. And both of those mansions reside on the city street named Ansley Lane. Ansley Lane is a funny city street which is only two miles in length from one semi-curvy side on that road to the other semi-curvy side that veer onto a new city street named which is called Chelsea Drive on the eastern side of the Ansley Lane roadway and a different city street named Tudor Lane on the western side of the Ansley Lane. That physical spot is really weird and different. So that means, the land property that covers the current city street named Ansley Lane had been purchased or robbed or stolen, in the year 1833, by all of Ace's ancient and dead blood relatives, who owned guns and then built both of the ancient mansions all at the same time. Attila's mansion was built in the year 1833 also. I had verified that information, when I was looking for an elderly blue-blood American to marry here in the seaport of Mobile. That's it! The surname is Ansley, or the wife of Mr. Smith, who is named Ansley. Thus, her name or their true surname appeared on the ancient dirt road in the year 1833. Now, I have a true clue to follow," she looked down and quickly typed on the keyboard with a smile and then stopped, reading the new electronic information on the tiny screen. "What does the name Ansley mean? Based on the internet find, the name Ansley is an English name. I love the internet. I love it. I am correct. The name Ansley usually refers a baby boy's name. I am correct twice. Ansley is an Old English word, coming from the old country of England, and divides into the two separate Old English words. The first word, An, means, the solitary one. The second word, leah means, woodland clearing. That's it! I am correct thrice. Back in the year 1833, the landscape would have been solid groves of trees and wilderness. Once all of the trees and weeds had been cleared, the plot of land would hold cows, sheep, chicken, pigs, and horses in a field of meadows. I found it." She laughed. "This is interesting. The urban or social definition of the name Ansley is a person, who possesses a deep inner desire for a stable, loving family within a happy community that works with other people, who are also appreciated. Well, that new social definition is not old man Attila or his crabby grandson Ace." She laughed out loud and smiled. "That's great! Now, I need an Old English location, so I can trace back Attila's great-great-great grandfather's family roots." She typed on the tiny keyboard and stared down at the tiny screen on her phone, starting to laugh out loud. "I love the internet. I found it. The surname Ansley originated in northern England in the township of Warwickshire. Yeehaw! I found it. Now, connect the electronic dots and find me the first lady Ansley here in Warwickshire," she typed on the keyboard and then laughed out loud, reading the information. "I can't believe that I did it. I found Hanna Ansley Smyth. The family surname is spelled s.m.y.t.h, not s.m.i.t.h. The letter Y replaces the letter I within the usual American surname. Well, that's why I have failed at finding Ace's ancient family background. The English family Smyth changed the spelling of the surname. Who are you, Hanna Ansley Smyth? Hanna Ansley Smyth is the daughter of..." She gasped in shock and then smiled. "I can't believe it; but I do see it. Seeing is believing. Hanna Ansley Smyth is the first born child of Samuel Smyth and his wife Ansley Smyth. Well, I have found the ancient historical family tree link. This has gotta be Ace's family tree, since both of the names carry Ansley and Smith. So, the Mobile city street _Ansley Lane_ is named after his great-great-great grandmother Smyth with the letter Y, instead of the letter I. That was very clever of your ancient and dead blood relatives, Attila. What else is here? Hanna Ansley Smyth had been birthed in the year 1625 and died in the year 1705, in the township of Warwickshire. That was a long, long, long time ago. She lived to become 80 years old before she died. Well, that is very interesting. That means that Attila will live to become 80 years old also. He is only 67 years old now. I must live and wait thirteen more years before I inherit all of his assets. Well, I have run across some intriguing data which is going to benefit me, not him, in the long run," she laughed out loud and looked down reading more of the electronic historical information on the screen of her phone. "Hmm! The town of Warwickshire is the birth place of dead and buried playwright and poet William Shakespeare and the location of the family cottage home of Anne Hathaway, the dead wife of William Shakespeare. Warwickshire is a modern day tourist town. That's interesting! Currently, Warwickshire houses 545,000 individuals and is located two hours north of London. Warwick Castle still stands from the English Civil War which had been built by the Normans in the year 1068. A second English castle stands and is called Kenilworth Castle, the favorite summer place for dead and buried famous Queen Elizabeth, the first. A true Roman road of stones bisects the country landscape and still appears near the town of Northamptonshire border near Crick, which is another long English name and another boring tourist trap. Within the town of Warwickshire, on October 23rd, in the year 1642, the first fight between the began the English Civil War, the Battle of Edgehill." She laughed out loud. "O! That's where Will Shakespeare became obsessed with ghosts in all of his death plays like Macbeth. Well, enough of the town of Warwickshire! Gimme the listing of dead people. Henry Smyth born in the year 1525 and died in the year 1547. He was young and died at the age of 22 years old. That sucks. His wife was born in the year 1526 and died in the year 1547 at the age of 21 years old. That sucks too. What is killing all of Ace's kinfolks? This is a fascinating royal mystery." She typed on the phone. "Ah! The sweating sickness is killing the natives. Fifteen years old, Arthur Tudor, the Prince of Wales and the first born heir to the throne and son of King Henry, VII had died from the sweating sickness, in the year 1502, along with his seventeen year old wife, the Princess of Wales. The worse bout of the sweating sickness had occurred in the year 1528.

"The sweating sickness was carried by rats and then transferred to humans by small biting insects. The body symptoms include aches and pains all over the body, headaches, thirst, and sweating. That's sound like the flu of modern times. Each sick patient experienced exhaustion, rapid pulse rate, dizziness and sleepiness dying within 24 hours after catching this virus. O! I see by looking back in the ancient history books. Samuel Smyth was a smart man just like his great to the thirteen power grandson Samuel Attila Smith, Junior. That is a great problem for me too. But I will figure something bad out, like I always do," she laughed out loud again and then huffed out loud. "What about her father, Samuel Smyth? I cannot believe that Attila's parents named him after his great-great-great grandfather. And Attila continued the English tradition and named his son Samuel Attila, who named his son, Samuel Attila also. Men! In the year 1658, the first recorded witchcraft trial. What! The first witchcraft trial occurred in the town of Hartford, within Connecticut, where Judge Samuel Attila. What!" She smiled. "So, Attila and his grandson Ace are a pair of wicked warlocks from their great-great-great-great and more greats of his biological grandfather, which will work to my advantage too. No one likes bad magic or evil entities," she laughed and then grinned. "So, Attila is not a true blue-blood coming from the country of England first and the USA second. Now, I feel so much better that I'm going to inherit that old antebellum house. Then, I can finally add my name on that house and display my name on the National Register Historical Places in America for the rest of my living days."

The chauffeur voiced in the intercom system. "I am approaching the hotel, ma'am."

Magritte looked up from the tiny screen and surveyed the clear skyline, pondering the current hurricane season.

In the year 2005, Hurricane Katrina landed in southeastern portion of the US State of Louisiana, but the heavy rains and fierce winds created a fourteen-foot ocean water surge in Mobile Bay, destroying many of the businesses on the Causeway.

She frowned and whispered for her eardrums only. "The scientists are predicting a terrible and horrible hurricane season, this year, which does not end until November, the first. I must plan and prepare for a terrible storm season too. Else, I might be getting my name on that ancient antebellum house in time, before the raging storm comes and wipes me out," she softly chuckled and stored her telephone down into her purse. Her limousine slowed down its pacing speed and turned into the hotel parking underneath the veranda, where the hotel security guard opened the rear door for the new guest. Magritte slid off the seat and stood underneath the shade out from the blistering sunlight, smiling at the ancient hotel, the Battle House Renaissance Mobile Hotel and Spa.

The red and orange brick glowed under the sunlight on the tall building, where numerous vehicles and visitors entered the lobby setting, for the day and evening business or play activities. The hotel interior features a 10,000 square foot spa, a rooftop swimming pool, a colorful lobby setting, and a grand ballroom for the Mardi Gras Carnival royalty members.

In the rear of the building, tall, a set of wire-framed pillars in bright yellow metal creates a skyline rotunda design in the air currents that hold the crest of three different foreign countries including France, Britain, and Spain, which had ruled the small seaport of Mobile and influenced the building architecture during the early 18th century.

Historically, the Battle House Hotel was built in the year 1852. The hotel stands on the site of the old military headquarters which was selected by General Andrew Jackson, during the War of 1812. General Jackson arrived in the city of Mobile blocking the invasion of the British forces heading towards southern Gulf coastline of US State of Alabama. However, he quickly learned that the British forces were marching towards the city of New Orleans, so General Jackson left the seaport and dashed into another battle.
At 01:19 pm, beside the parked limousine, Magritte slowly strolled ahead and reached out, tipping the security guard, heading into the open door, tipping the door man and moved inside the grand lobby setting, halting on the interior floor.

The Battle House Hotel lobby displayed a circular design in vivid colors of lines around the room in red, blue, and green on a white tinted background. The middle of the room presented a living room setting with three long sofas, three loveseats, and seven sitting chairs with side wooden tables. However, at this moment, all of the furniture pieces had been removed and covered with a group of different breeds of canine dogs that were running, yelping, playing, sitting, standing, sticking a nose into something. Near a canine or watching some of the dogs, an array of circus-looking clowns displaying a clown face and a set of colorful clown clothes with a tiny dog toy either chased around one of the dogs or played with some of the dogs.

Magritte gasped in shock and started at some of the running dogs, feeling confused puzzlement.

On the entrance wall, in the far wall corner, an extremely tall and large clown stood against the wall, wearing a white tinted colorful clown face, a tilted true cowboy red tinted hat, and an oversized green, blue, red, yellow clown suit over his natural body frame. A brown tinted, skinny, Greyhound breed dog and a Great Dane dog breed stood on each side of the tall clown, wearing a pink tinted dog tutu as a dog clown. The clown whipped out his mobile telephone and typed a text message on the keyboard, reading the new message and then sent it to the party. He stored the phone back down into the clown pocket on the trousers and looked up, staring at the nose profile on Magritte, clicking his tongue three times. The Greyhound dog breed stood upright and sniffed the air waves, smelling the other dog odors and all of the strange human aromas, slowly strolling ahead toward a stationary Magritte. A second later, the Great Dane duplicated the same doggie movements of the Greyhound dog, heading towards the front kneecaps on a stationary Magritte. The Greyhound canine veered towards the rear legs on a stationary Magritte. She wore a sour frown and studied the display of active dogs, reaching up, holding her nose holes from the smelly odor inside the lobby setting, gasping in shock from the foreign touch. She looked down and screamed in alarm, seeing a pair of large dogs wearing a pink tinted tutu skirt, rubbing along her designer dress and her pair of naked legs. Her body slowly spun around while trying to escape the two overly friendly canines and complete a circle, tilting sideways, slowly dashing ahead through the floor of dogs. She continued to scream out loud in fear, but no human bothered to address her concern, and as each human was dressed as a clown or the hotel human was very busy with other guests or the running canines, ignoring an old woman in front of the entrance wall. Then Magritte raced ahead and collided into some of the running dogs, stumbling over the wooden floor and finally reached the side archway, where the hair salon shop stood several feet down a long, quiet hallway. Magritte disappeared from the lobby setting and entered the darkened corridor, huffing with annoyance, patting her sweaty face and wet legs with her white tinted southern belle handkerchief, before entering the salon door.

On the entrance wall, the extremely tall and wide clown laughed out loud and whistled a practiced set of musical tones that attracted the attention of his two gigantic dogs. Each dog halted and ceased following the rear legs on Magritte and spun around, seeing their master, slowly strolling over the floor while cuddling into the face of each friendly canine, eventually stopping in front of their owner. The clown squatted down and hugged his two dogs, whispering a set of sweet doggie words into each face, pulling off and offered a handful of treats for a good job. He stood upright from the floor and back stepped a few feet, sitting down in a padded chair, watching the action on the floor and the appearance of Magritte. He whipped out his personal mobile telephone and clicked his tongue two times. Each dog spun around and sat down on each side of the clown, guarding their master in silence.

The clown quickly typed out a next text message and sent the new information to the other parry, storing his phone back down into the pocket of his clown suit and waited for Magritte, clicking his tongue four times. Each canine went off and joined the other silly dogs, playing and pooping inside the lobby area.

At 01:26 am, back at the hospital setting, on the intense care unit or ICU floor, on the side wall with bright peach colored paint, in the circle of three enemies and two friends, Ace continued to sit in the oversized green tinted chair and exhaled with annoyance, feeling the claws from Belle, hearing each girly soprano whine from her other two triplet sisters. During this time, he had been greeted by numerous local natives, who had heard the terrible medical news about his sick grandfather while more curious busybodies had appeared rather than disappeared from the long ICU hallway.

His personal mobile telephone softly chimed with a new text message. He looked down and quickly read the new message, gasping in shock, storing the phone back into his jacket.

Ace jerked his arm free from Spring/Belle and stood upright, spinning around to face the entrance wall, shouting out loud to the triplet sisters. "Thanks for the quick but dull chat, Belle, Elle, Delle! I think. But I really need to go and check on my fiancé Fawn and my daughter Gem. Please excuse me!"

Belle swiftly stood upright from her padded chair and leaned over, hugging Ace without letting go of his body while smiling into his smooth cheekbone. "Well, I can go along and help you with the funeral arrangement."

He sneered. "What!"

Buck stood upright from his chair and reached over, grabbing the free arm on Ace, shuffling both Ace and Belle ahead through the crowd towards the entrance wall, shouting out loud above each one's hair roots. "Excuse us! Coming through! Pardon us! Excuse us!" He swiftly parted the crowd using Belle as the ramming stick.

Slick stood upright from the chair with a soft manly sneer and blocked the other two triplet sisters from following their sister and Ace. The two sisters gasped in fear and the separated from the new shorter male, running in opposite directions, fleeing from the man and chased after their first born sister.

Slick gasped in shock and spun around, watching both of the sisters disappear into the heated, crowded room, exhaling with annoyance. He shook his shoulder length dark brown colored hair strands and whispered for his eardrums only. "I'm losing my manly touch. Good thing, I retired today living the carefree life of leisure and adventure with Ace's money. But I do need to perform one more rescue, Ace." He laughed out loud and stomped through the crowd after the three triplet sisters for his old friend and his new employer Ace.

A few minutes later, Belle, Ace, and Buck stood in front of the entrance wall, staring at the row of three silver tinted elevator doors. Buck reached out and slammed the elevator button hearing the mechanical gears grind through the air waves. Then Elle and Delle appeared and stood beside their sister Belle, smiling with giggles of girly silliness.

The elevator door slid open. Buck shoved Ace into the carriage, when the other people rushed inside also. The door silently closed shut. Buck scooted Ace from the three Wayward witches on the rear wall. The carriage slowly lowered to the next floor.

Slick stood on the side wall near the control panel of shiny elevator floor buttons with a smirk, reaching down, tapping the fourth floor level, turning to wink at Ace. Ace nodded back in silence. The carriage slowly dropped down to the next floor while first born triplet sister Spring/Belle continued to claw at Buck while trying to touch Ace, sneering at the tall man.

The elevator door slid opened on the fourth floor and revealed a busy lobby setting. Ace swiftly scooted around Buck with a smile and whispered behind the back spine on Buck. "Thanks!" Buck wiggled side to side blocking the three witchy sisters while Ace made his escape.

Ace swiftly moved ahead and slipped off the semi-crowded carriage of friends, dashing ahead through the hospital crowd while Belle yelled out Ace's name and as the elevator door closed shut.

On the third floor, Ace continued his forward march, without running through the crowd on top of the hard surface, finding the staircase, gliding down each stone step into the lobby setting. He exited the hospital building and dashed towards a familiar male.

At 01:35 pm, in the parking lot, among the bright, sizzling heated waves of hot air and bright sunlight, the tall familiar male spotted Ace sliding down into the driver's car, watching the judge. Ace stopped and scanned the parking lot for any familiar faces, seeing numerous worried faces coming from each patient's family member and friends. He opened the passenger side door and slid down onto the cool leather in dark maroon hue, caressing the smooth, dead cow hide. "Hmm! I do believe that I pay you too much money." The male did not laugh or chuckle at the amusing statement but stared at the nose profile on Ace. Ace turned to the male and exhaled with worry. "Something is wrong. What is it?"

The male wore a head of shoulder length brownish-red hair strands, a tone of bronze skin, a pair of amber colored eyeballs. His handsome but rough face displayed a prominent permanent scar that curved around the left cheekbone, a broken nose, and a set of long black tinted eyelashes that any woman would envy. He lifted his hand and opened his palm, exposing a glossy, white-tinted, oval shaped size. The object measured the length of a medical caplet that a patient would swallow calming a set of achy nerves.

Ace gasped in alarm and did not speak but listened, staring down at the foreign object.

The male spoke. "I was stationed at your house."

"Thanks for saving my granddaddy's life." Ace continued to stare at the foreign object with an active mind, a heavy heart, and a set of angry emotions.

"Not yet!" The male stated without emotions. Ace gasped in worry and continued to listen to the male. The male stated. "I was watching over Fawn at your house, but Attila was there also. Fawn and Attila had lounged on the patio surface during the decoration party starting on Monday morning," he paused and exhaled with worry. The male wanted to tattle about Fawn missing a few minutes into the decoration party sight but the details for Attila Smith was most important at the moment. He continued. "I served them food on the patio, since Monday morning, also. Today was no different than usual. After serving a plate of food, I left the patio and moved around the room with more food trays as ordered by Gritty. A few minutes later, I spun around and viewed Attila dropping off his patio chair resting hard down on top of the patio surface. I quickly raced back on the patio. Attila was not breathing but choking on something. I whipped out my switchblade and cut an opening down into his throat tissue. One of the smarter waitresses had been trained in CPR techniques and quickly cut a regular drinking straw into a breathing tube for Attila, handing it to me there on the patio surface. I stabbed the opening in his throat and heard fresh air molecules exhaling and then inhaling from his throat wound. Attila was alive and breathing. However, this object dropped down from his open throat wound and landed on top of the patio brick."

Ace gasped in alarm and snatched up the item. "What is this?"

"I do not know, Ace. But, based on all of my accumulated knowledge, that object is a glossy, white-tinted, oval-shaped medical gelatin capsule, which is soft and flexible holding a bluish-white liquid, like a person or a patient would swallow calming a set of achy nerves. If you have trouble swallowing a hard pill or a hard plastic caplet, then you eat a gel caplet instead."

Ace gasped in worry. "What are you not telling me?"

The male pointed at the object. "That glossy, shiny object was down inside Attila's throat, like he had accidentally or purposefully swallowed the foreign object. He started coughing the object back up from his food pipe but choked instead. I don't know the real story, but I can guess here. That object was not in the food plates. I was the only one to touch each food platter and every woman consumed numerous items of food. So, there would have an incident on Monday or the same day. Thus, that glossy object was in the tumbler of sweet tea, which had been delivered by one of the waitresses to Fawn and Attila. Fawn had consumed her tumbler of sweat tea without incident. Don't sweat anthills, Ace! I tracked down each waitress while Attila was traveling to the hospital emergency room and spoke with each one, including the wiser waitress. The wiser waitress had CPR training and recognized a choking victim. I do not suspect her with the cold blooded murder plot either. Else, she would have allowed Attila to die. And the other waitresses were very scary and frightened with the intense incident..."

Ace gasped in shock. "The gang of southern belles were there at my house too."

The male shook his long curls. "I did not believe so. I understand that you personal know each one of these southern belles."

Ace nodded with a stern face. "Yes. Yes. Yes, I do."

"I suspect there was another party person there that did not feel loving and caring for Attila, like I do."

Ace nodded again. "I know that party person. But how did she do it? Where did she get this thing? Who else is involved with the accident on my granddaddy?"

The male smiled. "Today, alternative medicine comes in home-made pills. People personalize blend together herbs or vitamins or amino acids into a soft, flexible gelatin capsule, like that. You can purchase all of the tiny pieces of equipment like the rollers and the gelatin cubes and the personalize ingredients at any local health food store, because I went home and experienced with my working theory. That ain't a theory anymore."

Ace nodded with a stern face. "I need to pay you more of my money. That's was a brilliant idea."

"The outer soft, flexible capsule is composed of gelatin, water, opacifier and glycerin which can be purchased at the same health food store that seals the contents from leakage within the capsule for mouth consumption or tongue swallowing with ease. Filling your own gelatin capsule by a pair of naked human hands ensures quality and consistency with the newly creative product. The nice, pretty health food clerk told me." He did not smile as the situation was critical. "Start the encapsulation process. Melted gelatin is pumped through a machine that spits out two thin ribbons of gelatin. The two ribbons of heated gelatin pass over a series of rollers and are fed through two rotating die cylinders that determine the size and shape of single capsule structure, which forms two halves of the new soft, flexible capsule. Spray down a large surface with bleach-based cleaner and then wipe it clean with a paper towel. After spray, close all the doors and the windows keeping out any windy breezes, creating a sterile environment. Put on a pair of medical gloves. Measure three/fourths of the product from the pile of herbs or vitamins or amino acids into the longer end on the gelatin capsule. With the upper capsule lid scoop up the remaining one-fourth product, closing both ends together. It is very important to fill each capsule with the precise dosage specifications.

"Apply gentle pressure to both sides and seal your new capsule for consumption. Store each newly created capsules in a cool, dry spot, until sealed. Finally, store in a sealable bottle or container. My concern here: is this the only foreign object in Attila?"

Ace gasped in shock. "What! What do you mean?"

The man nodded his curls and pointed down at the capsule. "Ace, this object is slick, wet, glossy, soft, flexible and easy to swallow, like a true gelatin capsule, for pain, not gain. Wonder if, there were two or more foreign objects in his tumbler of darkened sweet ice cubed tea? Attila would have easier swallowed and then consumed one or two, before he started to choke from a third fake gel capsule."

Ace whipped out his phone and called Kamius while wiggling his body inside the leather chair, feeling both worry and fear. He shouted into the phone speaker, "Kam! Kam! My granddaddy might have swallowed something, which caused his choking fit that led to his heart attack. Run medical tests and check the contents of his stomach!" He paused and heard the physician words. "What makes me think so? I don't know. I'm worried. Please, just, run the medical tests and check for any foreign contents in his stomach," he paused and heard the words from the physician. "Thank you! Thank you! Please let me know as soon as possible too! Bye, Kam!" He dropped the phone and turned nodding to the male. "The physician is checking the stomach contents on my granddaddy. What else do you have for me?"

The male nodded his curls. "I split up the team. One is watching Fawn. One is Magritte. I came here. No one is watching Gem. I'm sorry. There wasn't a lot of time. This is an act of murder. Magritte is driving to her hair salon on St. Francis Street. She has an appointment at three o'clock, today, for her finger nails, hair strands, and toe nails. She will be there for hours. I can go..."

"No!" Ace shouted out loud and shook his bone skull. "Don't worry about Gem! She's with that southern belle troop that houses some of her good high school friends, which is chaperoned by a set of smarter and wiser adults. If anything goes down during an emergency, she or they will call me. That was a smart move. I'll reward you for that one too. Now, I'll go and survey my granddaddy's house. I know the property very well. I can work faster alone and will find her little demon machine, which is still there. I can feel it. And Gritty hid it good from the old eyeballs on my granddaddy, but not me. Can you play nurse?" The male nodded in silence. Ace nodded back with a stern face. "Stay here and stick around for my granddaddy, in case of something bad. I wanna hear it from you, not his physician. His physician is working on the wrong body part and does not believe a panicked grandson. Thanks, Streg!" He opened the door and slid off the seat, slamming the door, racing ahead from the sports car, dashing back to his pickup truck in the physician parking lot while pondering his next move against nasty Magritte.

Inside the cab of the running sports car, Streg exhaled with worry and cut off the car engine, opening the door, sliding out from the seat. He stood upright on top of the heated parking lot surface and slammed the door, scanning each family member or friend for an enemy, not seeing one. He locked his car and slowly strutted back into the hospital, hunting down a nurse uniform...naw...physician's uniform while spying on Attila for his employer Ace.

At 02:46 pm, inside the cab with the cold air-conditioning waves blasting against his sweaty face, Ace slapped down on the ABS braking system on the single pedal brake and swiftly reduced the racing speeding on his personal pickup truck, sliding each locked wheel over the smooth pavement on the public roadway named Ansley Lane, settling all four black-tinted rubber wheels on top of the dull-looking vanilla-colored flat concrete driveway. He would apologize to his grandfather later for streaking the driveway with tire marks, once his grandfather was awake and out of the hospital bed and back at his home residence.

The third story antebellum house stood half-a-mile from the start of the city roadway named Ansley Lane and one mile west from Ace's antebellum manor which was located on the opposite end of the same named city street. These were only two building structures on Ansley Lane.

The house stands in the middle of 420 acres with thick groves of tall pine trees that are 300 years old, where the Native American Mabila Indian braves had enjoyed scratching a back side and gossiping about each lovely Indian squall. Some of the pine tree bark displayed a set of ugly and incoherent knife marks coming from a younger Ace, when he was a young boy having fun in the wild wilderness acting as a rebel cowboy, during the summertime days, without adult supervision.

Behind the manicured back yard of green tinted grass and pods of flowers and short rows of trees, more wilderness exists and protects all of the native wild birds and animals extending for three miles towards the natural spring water stream which is called Three Mile Creek. Attila's land property line ends at the nature spring water stream.

The three-story front facade features four massive concrete-made columns in stark white hue behind a set of exterior walls in cider block of yellow pain blinding the flying birds and pissing off all of the local neighbors. The long, wide, and flat driveway is composed of dull colored vanilla colored concrete slabs that encompasses the entire front lawn, covering up the rich fertile dirt, killing all of the grass roots and runs ahead into a long row of six steps that leads onto the front porch. The six rows of continuous concrete steps expanses each end on the front porch without a tiny plot of brown tinted dirt and a scattered pod of colored flowers. The front porch is empty of furniture pieces and wall decorations, including the tiny piles of smashed white-tinted nasty bird shit, only a clean concrete surface that highlights a set of green tinted metal double doors in the center of the facade wall beside a row of low-lying undivided glass windows. The glass is specifically treated with a dark tint blocking the heated sunrays and the prying eyeballs of spies.

In the air, a covered balcony setting, enclosed by two gigantic columns, jaunts out from the third level floor that holds the bedroom chambers on each side of the grand house and also shades the first floor entrance doors into the interior rooms. On the ground, slabs of concrete materials cover the dirt and kills the grass blades, veering back into the rear lawn, forming a naked concrete patio surface that encompasses 50 feet lengthwise, without a single piece of patio furniture for sitting or a grilling station for food or a swimming pool for fun.

Decades before, the patio surface was covered with a short ugly rooftop that blocked the beauty of the sunlight and the lush wilderness, in which, Attila ripped off as he did not like to eat any of his food meals outdoors on the patio surface and never purchased furniture pieces for the occasion.

The solid slabs of flat concrete barely kiss the public roadway, where a row of tiny green tinted weeds sometimes tries to thrive, but the vicious gardener murders them each week day. At the end of the square shaped driveway, a long walkway in matching concrete materials parallels the rest of the Mobile city roadway for one mile and then ends a few yards away from Ace's house as there are only two building structures on the two-mile stretch of nicely paved gray tinted asphalt, so Attila can exercise in the early morning without tripping over grass roots, running from barking dogs, and arriving in time for the breakfast meal with his grandson Ace, before his recent marriage commitment to the elderly, bossy, and rude southern bitch wife Magritte, in the month of February, this year.

On top of the concrete driveway, Ace opened the vehicle door and rushed away from the truck, slapping the unlocked door with his rear boot heel, which was a fantastic feat, racing ahead over the non-heated, smooth slabs while sneering with fury at his number enemy, Magritte. He leaped up from the hard concrete, landing down on the third concrete stair step, alternating each boot toe on the other steps and then slammed down on top of the concrete front facade. He raced ahead and slammed into the double-wide front entrance door, reaching up, grabbing the hidden front door key and dropped back down, opening one of the doors. He entered the grand foyer with an active mind.

The first floor presents a grand foyer that measures 50 feet across, which is the length of a semi-tractor trailer, and 30 feet in width, which is over half the length of a second semi-tractor trailer, exhibiting a smooth dark hard wood floor, without a throw rug or pieces of individual living room furniture and displays four mint green colored solid walls. The entrance wall contains a row of low-lying solid glass windows that lights the room with natural sunlight and also heats the room in the hot summertime days while exposing the naked city street and front manicured lawn.

Each side wall soars up towards a thirty-foot high ceiling and then hits the third floor level white tinted ceiling, without rattling the delicate, gigantic glass chandelier that quietly glitters in rainbow sparkles from the numerous gently sunrays coming into each upper level glass window.

Each side wall contains a scattered non-geometric array of numerous dull-looking oil paintings depicting numerous dead and buried Smith blood-related family members, which was an old custom back during the antebellum era while scaring all of the naughty children back into their bedroom for the early evening while their parents enjoyed the quiet time. And that old custom southern had worked on a younger Ace, before he turned six years and figured out the dead and buried people pictures didn't haunt his grandfather's mansion as he-ghosts and she-ghosts, only the ancient Smith graveyard, which was located two miles from the house.

The rest of side wall displays an individual double-wide staircase, not a single wide staircase, where back in time, within the Old South, each southern belle needed the extra space on each step, marching in a single line up the grand staircase, after the fun dancing grand ball while wearing her puffy and fluffy, colorful plantation gown, without tripping on each wooden step. Each staircase leads up to the second and third floor levels, which consists of two gigantic bedrooms, with various a purpose for sleeping.

At the intersection on the entrance wall and the left-sided solid wall, the enclosed wall corner is slightly indented outward from the wall plaster, without a glass window pane for beauty, but displays an odd-looking dark green-tinted metal frame object which slightly resembles a loveseat, without a butthole cushion or a back rest cushion or an arm rest.

Back in time within the Old South, a courting corner was built in one of the entrance wall corners, inside the foyer setting, and used to physical court each southern belle to a proper southern gentleman. The courting corner held an oversized loveseat with an arched back rest and a soft, thickly padded cushion for two humans and one plantation dress, where the furniture piece was out of sight of spying eyeballs coming from a younger sister or a nosy mother or aunt. Slightly beside the loveseat piece, a short wooden table displayed a cute, frilly pink tinted tablecloth which held a small silver tinted serving tray with a heated teapot of tea or coffee or coco , two cold-feeling teacups, a small vase of flowers coming from the proper southern gentleman and a tiny plate of home-made cookies that the southern belle had supposedly made with her naked hands with the aid of the plantation cook inside the kitchen setting that was located outside the manor and several feet from the house.

Back in time within the Old South, a courtship process started with the first meeting of the proper southern gentleman, who arrived with a handful of colored flowers in a friendly hue of yellow. The gentleman and the lady met at the door and then moved over the courting corner and courted for hours, until the father of the lady asked the gentleman to leave.

On the second evening, after the suppertime meal, the proper southern gentleman appeared wtih a handful of pink tinted flowers to his courting belle. They moved back to the courting corner and courted for hours, until he was asked to leave by the father of lady.

On the third evening, a after the suppertime meal, the guy arrived with red tinted roses for his belle, duplicating the same courting process, until it was time for the man to leave.

On the fourth evening, after the suppertime male, the proper gentleman arrived with a diamond ring and proposed marriage to his southern belle ad future bride.

Now, this example of a courtship is short and sweet. sometime, the courtship lasted for weeks or a couple of months depending upon if each family agreed with the gentleman.

Inside the grand manor, in the middle of grand foyer setting, Attila didn't desire a courting couch in the courting corner, so he placed an ugly wired-looking fake loveseat which cannot be used for a sitting to occupy that empty space, without perturbing the placid scene of the foyer.

On the forward wall with an individual double-wide staircase, an arched central hallway, which is designed like a train or automobile tunnel, displays a side row of individual true and really scary dull-looking, tall metal Medieval knights of armor with a real sword weapon and a true metal face mask. As a kid, Ace was frightened of the men in metal at first, until he personal banged his metal toy while breaking some of the parts on each outside armor gear of every knight statue and didn't hear a returning knock from the depths of the metal. The long, semi-dark tunnel, without natural or man-made lightning, houses two rows of five individual pieces of knights and leads down towards three individual archways which is scattered on each side wall of dark brown paint.

Ace moved ahead with a growl and slammed the front door shut, colliding into the circular table in the middle of the room, quickly grabbing the smooth curvy edge with both of his hands and straightened the furniture piece into a calm balance. The center of the lightweight wooden naked table contained a heavy rectangular vase of colorful flowers. He gasped in alarm and stared down at the flower arrangement. "Where in the hell did you come from, table? Granddaddy does not..." He huffed in annoyance. "Magritte! I must be careful in here. This is his and her house, not mine. I don't want her to know that I know that I have been here searching for you know." He back stepped with a stern face and scooted around the new center table darting his two eyeballs around the foyer setting, not seeing any new additional items or any paid house staff members, who only worked on Monday and Wednesdays. He strutted through the tunnel hallway, without perturbing any of the sleepy knights and then softly growled for his eardrums only. "I wished there were one or two he-ghosts inside one of two of the knights. Then, I could ask the nosy he-ghosts where the roller and pressing machine was located here inside this gawd dawn gigantic house. The most logical place for a roller and pressing station while creating your own set of nasty gelatin capsules would be located inside the kitchen setting," he turned to face the side wall and stood in front of the pocket door, leaning into the wood, listening for any sounds. The house staff members were not present inside the residence, but another stranger or visitor of Magritte's could be here and present while snooping around an empty and unguarded house for priceless asset values or secret information.

Attila did not possess his Resources anymore. His male Resources had retired in luxury with Attila's money or had died from old age. Thus, the manor house was always unsecured during the day and night.

Ace sneered into the wooden door. "I'll take care of that again, once my granddaddy is out of the hospital, while his body is recuperating." He slid open the door and scanned the kitchen setting in silence, without seeing a warm body or a warm plate of food or a warm cooking pan.

The kitchen and breakfast room had been added after the lost of the Civil War and the introduction of lighted electricity, replacing one of the sitting rooms, which was useless but occupied room within the Old South.

Currently, the kitchen space is a square-shaped design with dull-looking yellow tinted paint on each exposed upper wall. The ancient kitchen had been covered in yellow paint also and Attila decided not to perturb the kitchen design. The entrance wall displays a square-shaped archway and a row of gigantic yellow-tinted built-in cabinets that are taller than Ace, who stands six feet and three inches in height. Each gigantic ugly closed cabinet holds an assortment of kitchen stuff, such like, food items, dishes, pots, pans, silverware, napkins, and other items. On each side wall features a line of yellow tinted upper and lower wooden cabinets with a purple and green tinted granite countertop that expresses Attila's dry humor as he does not cook, only eats, like his grandson Ace. Each wall houses the usual kitchen appliances, not in a certain order, in solid white hue. The forward wall exhibits a row of doors that leads onto a pink tinted terrace surface with mint green tinted patio furniture enjoying the yard, the flowers, the trees, the sun, the moon, the stars, the wilderness, and all of the wild birds and animals.

In the center of the room, a wooden island in yellow tinted paint with the matching ugly granite countertop stood alone, housing six high stools in ugly mint green colored metal.

Ace laughed. "Granddaddy has a mean sense of humor, making his cooking staff work inside his ugly kitchen setting."

A few feet before the forward wall, an empty space holds a long wooden table in solid black hue that seats ten individuals. The floor cover is alternating black and white checkers.

Ace quickly invaded the kitchen space and carefully opened each cabinet, drawer, and door, searching for a roller machine that would create a gelatin shell. After searching for fifteen minutes, without perturbing the sight, he failed in his mission and stood in front of the white tinted stove oven, "The thing is not in here. However, it is here. I know it. I can feel it. So, I keep looking, but where, where, where," he reached down and gently pulled out the object, a soft, cylinder-shaped, clear-colored gelatin capsule that glittered with white liquid with slightly blue tinted specks. He was careful not to break the capsule but confidence that his powerful manly man finger pads could not either. He desperately wanted to contact Kam and inquire about the statue of his sick grandfather, but she was great physician while treating both Attila and Ace, since she had graduated from Mobile School of Medical. As a matter of fact, Attila believed in helping and giving back to his community and discovered the newly graduated medical physician while providing his monies for her private practice as a medical doctor and becoming her first patient. So, Kamius knew her medical doctor stuff and would contact Ace, if something medically terrible was affecting his grandfather's health.

Ace didn't squeeze the gelatin capsule in his open palm but studied the design, gasping in shock, looking up and smiled at the stove top. "I know. I know where the roller equipment is located." He was fighting against clock time and personal fury, before Magritte completed her hair salon visitation. He spun around with a sneer and moved ahead towards the side wall, opening the second pocket door that led into the large laundry room.

The laundry room had been added a few years after the completion of the kitchen setting. The room is a narrow but wide rectangular-shaped design housing two individual pairs, a washer and dryer machine couple on the longer side wall, which enjoys the pretty view of the manicured side lawn and lovely grove of lush wilderness. Beside each dryer machine, a long work station stands ready for newly cleaned clothes to fold and stack for the owner.

The opposite side wall displays a row of low-lying glass windows for beauty and functionality. Some of the thicker wet clothes are dried on a long upper pole that runs in the middle of the room above the naked black and white checkered floor inside the laundry room by air molecules coming from Mother Nature, when all of the glass windows are opened upright allowing a light breeze inside the oddly shaped setting. Each side wall contains various white tinted upper and lower wooden cabinets that store all of the usual laundry supply items.

Ace turned the wall corner and stopped in front of the work station, studying the huddle of clothes washing products, placing the gelatin capsule on the edge of the countertop. He didn't really need to save the gelatin capsule. the police officers and the medical physician would not believe Ace, if he had presented the usual gelatin capsule yelling that his grandfather had consume one or more similar capsule. Ace had to find the roller machine that made the gelatin capsule and the ingredients inside the capsule, in order to accuse Magritte of cold-blood attempted murder on Attila. he reached out and slid over the detergent tub, popping off the lid, reaching down inside the container and jerked out one of the detergent pods. "Hmm! This is a true detergent pod, which is similar in shape to the gelatin capsule, but a much smaller size. Yes, this is the place. It was made good sense to hide the roller and presser machine that created the deadly weapons, which has harmed my grandfather, in here." He dropped the detergent pod back down into the detergent tub, sealing the lid, returning back to the same spot and then started carefully searching each cabinet, drawer, and door. He stood in front of the washer machine and gently dropped down the lid, exhaling with annoyance. "It is not here. I thought for shore it would be here, but I can't find it. I really need Buck and Slick here, but they're retired from the military service and are not part of my military staff anymore. Hell! I'm retired from the military service too." He back stepped from the washer machine and spun around to face entrance wall, moving back to the work station, gently grabbing the gelatin capsule and stored down into his shirt pocket. He spun around and checked the laundry room for the last time, without leaving any physical or biological or chemical evidence of his secret spy mission. He was satisfied with his clean-up procedure and strutted ahead towards the rear wall inside the oddly-shaped laundry move, padding ahead toward the solid wall and then halted inside the wall corner.

He reached up and pressed three of his finger tips into the middle of the wooden shelf feeling the wood movement, removing his hand with a smile. The ancient mechanisms on the secretive hidden door needed an oil change. The hidden door was disguised as a column of exterior storage shelves which held a short stack of soft cleaning cloths and several small tubs of cloth pins. The hidden door slowly shifted backwards and slammed into the side wall, revealing a rectangular shaped dining room with peach tinted walls and light colored wooden dining room furniture pieces. The glass cabinets elegantly display an ancient set of fine animal bone, not human bone china dinner plates, teacups, saucers, bread and butter plates, salad plates, finger bowls, soup bowls, dessert plates, and numerous serving pieces in pink hue with flowers.

Ace continued to sneer at Magritte and the set of girly china dishes. As a young boy, his mother, not his father, had forced Ace to eat off the pinky, girly dinner plates, against his will and the will of his father but that was love for your mama, ya'll.

The elegant place setting came from the country of England, in the year 1834, as ordered by his great-great grandmother Smith and lived here inside the ancient dining room. Each piece wears a thick pink border which is decorated with an array of girly flowers in red and pink surrounding with a trim in 24 carats of gold. In the middle of the white material, a gigantic corsage of colorful flowers laugh in your face, if you are a manly man, cluttering into a bloom of yellow posies, pink roses, tiny blue belles, and white colored forget-me-nots, where Ace likes to forget about his torment and torture at the dining room between the range of eight years old until his teen years while dining at his grandmother's house.

The hidden door was built for the kitchen staff members to shuffle in and out with the prepared food trays, without perturbing the invited guests inside the sitting room and stinking up the central hallway. Ace stood inside the open archway and scanned the room, shaking his bone skull, whispering for his eardrums only. "No! She would not build her set of deadly gelatin weapons in this room, on top of the ancient and shiny dining room table, without messing up the wood. Then, the paid maid service would know and tattle to my granddaddy about the permanent scarring on the wooden surface," he moved straight ahead with a stern face through the dining room setting, without bothering to investigate any of the closed drawers, when the hidden door closed shut with more metal pain. He stopped and stood inside a new square shaped archway, facing a new hallway, scanning each glass window with a smile.

The new hallway ran perpendicular to the central hallway and covered the long width of the house floor plan, displaying a row of low-lying undivided glass windows and three sets of French doors leading onto the rear patio surface without a single piece of patio furniture or a potted flowering plant or a swimming pool or a wooden picnic table. On each side wall, another row of low-lying undivided glass windows and two sets of French doors led onto a naked side patio of naked solid concrete slabs, without a single piece of furniture or a potted flowering plant also, only viewing the lush, rich green tinted wilderness, where each bird sit parked and sing a musical melody on each every tree branch, each ground squirrel scrambles from its hiding hole and chases after each fallen nut, and an assortment of hidden insects and all of croaking frogs sing through the day and night hours.

Inside the archway, Ace continued to stand and studied each piece of furniture. The hallway was not just a walking space, but a sitting space for female entertainment. The empty length measurement away from the central hallway wall towards the rear wall of glass windows compassed twenty feet, where the group of yesteryears southern belles gathered here sipping on a cup of hot tea, sitting on array of living room furniture pieces, including long sofas, short loveseats or a single sitting chair while gossiping the evening hours away.

Back in time, most of the demolished and current grand antebellum mansions here in the city of Mobile and throughout the Old South either possessed a central grand double-wide staircase that led up towards the third level of the second floor space, where all of the bedroom chambers stood, in silence, until the bedtime ritual or displayed a central enclosed hallway that led further down into the main part of the first floor.

The first floor was the social scene, in the year 1833, until the start of the Civil War, in the year 1861, that housed the grand foyer for greeting, the grand dining room for eating, the grand ballroom for dancing, the two individual sitting rooms for gossiping, and finally a perpendicular grand hallway at the end of the long manor which invited all of the guests away from the ornate interior walls out into the manicured grassy rear lawn walking among nature, admiring the pods of flowers or secretively kissing around groves of trees or meeting at one of tiny picnic tables for food.

The weird intersection of a central hallway opened into a second perpendicular hallway had created a grand central station with five open archways for all of the human footprints to stroll out from the dining room setting into the male sitting room or into the perpendicular hallway and back again into the dining room or back into the sitting room. however, a southern belle was not allowed into the male sitting room, so she and her pretty belle girlfriends gathered inside the perpendicular hallway while giggling and gossiping in soft sweet timbers.

Ace continued to stand inside the archway and smiled at the row of glass windows, remembering each feel from the soft cushion seat upon his dirty trousers. When he and his sister were younger and visited their grandparents, if Ace had done a terrible deed, which was quite often, his grandmother would punish his ass by sitting inside this hallway on top of any one of selected furniture pieces, where he watched his sister play outside in the warm weather, sometimes with the neighbor kids for thirty minutes, until his grandmother forgave and forgot about the evil deed done by her only grandson. That was a terrible punishment watching all of the kids play, while Ace was stick inside the cool hallway on top of the flora, soft sofa in manly defeat.

Currently, he slowly moved ahead and touched the window, leaning his nose bridge over onto the cool glass material, smiling at the fond old memory from his childhood days, whispering for his eardrums only, "Granddaddy." He stood upright with a sneer and spun around, advancing ahead through the long hallway, turning into the next open archway and stood inside the sitting room, which was called the living room.

The rectangular-shaped living room walls are painted in dark green hue which contains a side wall of built-in wooden shelves that faces the opposite side wall of low-lying glass windows, which views more of the manicured lawn and thick grove of wilderness. The entrance wall contains a wide square-shaped archway and side rows of short and tall wooden cabinets and tables with stuff on top of each polished wooden surface. The rear wall contains mounted picture frames of more dead and buried blood relatives, more short or tall wooden cabinets or tables with more shit on top of the wooden surface. The middle of the room featured three independent living room suites consisting of four long sofa, eight loveseat and eleven sitting chairs in leather exhibiting the colors of solid brown, solid red, and solid vanilla hue with an assortment of cushion pillows in vivid colors. In front and beside some of the furniture pieces, a dark or light colored wooden table stands ready for holding a drinking beverage or a plate of food or a reading book. The living room does not display any type of electronic equipment, such like, a television plasma screen, a musical player or a laptop computer, since the electronics are personal and stored inside the den room for Attila.

Magritte did not own a laptop computer, only her personal mobile telephone, like the rest of the citizens of the civilized world.

Ace slowly strutted ahead with a stern face and as his two eyeballs darted around the sitting room, pondering another secret door or compartment built into the ancient walls or the floor, where the roller and presser machine could be hidden from eyesight. He shook his bone skull and exited the living room, crossing the quiet tunnel hallway, entering the dining room again while searching again and then he exited from the dining room, padding down the second hallway, without success of the targeted treasure. He remembered no other secret door existed inside the sitting room or on the wall of the hallway, only inside the dining room, which was only accessed through the laundry room hidden doorway. Ace continued to circle the same three rooms with a heavy heart and deep thoughts, stopping in the middle of the hallway avenue with the silent but spying rows of knight statues.

Back in time, in the 1834, life was gay for the elite class and work for the workers. The rich elite class held a social party six days per week in the late afternoon hours, until the midnight time period, except on Sunday, the Lord's day of rest and prayer to Almighty God, his son Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit. Amen. Then, the church members cooked and held a grand picnic lunch, right after the preacher services for both the hunger elites and the workers.

Inside the Smith manor, the central tunnel or enclosed hallway shuffled the annoying guests from the grand foyer, entering into one of the two sitting room. One room, where the kitchen was currently located, had been the ladies sitting room. The proper group of southern belles gathered and chatted about babies and children and the latest clothing fashions from the city of Paris, munching on tiny sandwiches, sipping a glass of wine while waiting on the grand meal. All of the males headed into the second sitting room, talking about crop fields, politics, and financial money investments, sipping on a glass of wine while waiting for the call to supper. Once the dinner bell had been rung, the opposite sexes met inside the grand dining room, sitting in an assigned arrangement by the hostess, consuming the supper meal. After the dessert dish was cleaned by each guest, the supper meal was completed and then the opposite sexes left the dining room, scattering around the end of the hallway.

Most of the males returned back into the men's sitting room, consuming a small tumbler of whiskey alcohol, lighting up a cigar while continuing to talk about crop fields, politics, and money. The females would mosey through the dining room archway and gathered inside the second hallway.

Currently, standing quietly inside the hallway tunnel, Ace strutted ahead and turned into the last square shaped archway on the opposite wall, entering the den or man cave that belonged to his grandfather, standing inside the open archway.

The manly cave for an elderly Attila presents a square-shaped room with four dark wooden paneled walls, which displays numerous mounted frames of colorful paintings, black and white drawings, posters, colorful pictures, and other items that represented his long years as a rear admiral for the USA Coast Guard military branch. The entrance wall contains the single door which is was surrounded by framed objects with two wooden cabinets near the wall corner. The opposite wall used to display a row of low-lying glass windows, which had been replaced by Attila before Ace was born. Now, the solid wooden paneled wall hugs a long office desk in dark wood which holds numerous smaller picture frames, fewer military items, a short lamp for reading or studying, a black tinted laptop computer, a mouse, a matching desktop printer, and a black tinted office chair.

One side wall shows a gigantic television plasma unit mounted on the wall and underneath a long black tinted cabinet that holds an assortment of Hollywood movie films, books, musical discs, computer discs, and other electronic gadgets.

On the opposite side wall, a gigantic colorful oil painting displays a USA Coast Guard deep sea vessel in stark white paint on the outer hull and a red tinted diagonal box on the forward stern. Sitting diagonally from the painting and inside the darkened wall corner without an overhead lamp over a ratty brown tinted lounge chair. Attila would sit in that old chair, narrating all of the sea adventures from his long military career to his only grandson Ace for hours, days, weeks, months, years, and decades. He always sat in that chair and smoked one of his cigars flooding the enclosed room with the sweet odor while his wife yelled for the health of her young son and her younger grandson, without any result. Ace always sat a few feet from his grandfather on top of a small padded stool and listened to the words, smiling at the burning cigar that polluted the wooden planks with the sizzling ashes.

Inside the open archway, Ace exhaled with worry and felt deep concern for the fate of his elderly grandfather, slowly entering the manly cave and then halted with a gasp of shock. Beside the ratty brown tinted lounge chair, without a foot stool, that faced the gigantic mounted television screen on the opposite side wall, a small side wooden table always held a burning cigar tilted sideways on a glass ash tray and a sweaty tall tumbler of either sweet tea or an alcoholic beverage. Today, the table surface did not present a burning cigar or a used tumbler, but an unfolded document in white paper, longer than a regular sheet of paper, with black tinted sentences in English words.

Ace slowly moved ahead and then stopped, standing in front of the small table, leaning down and quickly reviewed a stapled set of white tinted papers. He gasped in shock. This stapled stack of long papers represented the Last Will and Testimony from his grandfather on top of the surface. Ace stood upright and shook his body in fury, slowly calming his stressed brain cells, exhaling out his sour breathes. He leaned down again and reached out with his hand and then halted the movement, huffing in frustration. "No! No! No! She will know that I've been here performing my spying mission." He stood upright and spun around slowly searching the room for a new instrument used to touch the legal documents, completing the circle and viewed the office desk. He moved ahead and stopped in front of the desk, slowly opening the drawer, reaching down and touched a blue tinted ink pen. "No! No! No! The blue tint will smear on the paper." He shifted his hand and touched a pencil. "No! No! No! The lead will smear on the paper," he shuffled his hand again and touched the ruler, pulling out the item, spinning around and advanced back towards the table. He stopped with a stern face and leaned down, exhaling with worry, slowly slipping the tip of the ruler underneath the stapled stack of papers, lifting up the last page, the signature paper. He read the new information and gasped in shock, gently lowering the last page back in place, slowly standing upright in angry. He flung the plastic ruler to the side of his body, hitting it down on the floor that sounded with a soft thump on the wooden planks and shouted out loud in fury. "No! No! No! Who in the hell is Idandy Gilbert? Idandy Gilbert has signed on the lawyer's line of the new Last Will and Testimony document. And Gritty signed as the witness while replacing me. So, Gritty has added her name to my grandfather's Last Will and Testimony document. Thus, she changed the legal document. She did it. She did it, last week, when my grandfather was alive and healthy. Why did she do that? Why did she do it? She planned this almost cold-blooded murder of my grandfather. Why! Why! Why! Why is Magritte so greedy and nasty? Magritte is a very rich woman, without greedy children or other nasty blood relatives sharing her wealth. She is not a sick individual but an ugly bitch. Why did she marry my grandfather? What does she want from my grandfather? I don't understand any of this mess." He shook his bone skull. "It's too late now. She is married to my grandfather and his legal wife and she will inherit all of his monies, his house, his land, his furniture, his car, and his bedroom linens, including everything else that my grandfather owns." He gasped in alarm and spun around, staring at the entrance wall with two wooden cabinets, nodding with a wicked smile. He slowly moved ahead and stopped, squatting down on top of the floor, reaching through a small gap in-between the two cabinets, ripping off a taped tiny metal key on the metal cabinet. He inserted the tiny key into a tiny latch on the tiny drawer on the second filing cabinet, twisting to the side, unlocking the lock. He slowly opened the drawer and viewed a folded document, smiling down at the paper. He pulled out the paper and unfolded the item, flipping to the last page.

Every new solar year, on the second day of the first month, Attila renewed his Last Will and Testimony on purpose to avoid confusion, in case, something terrible happened to him during the new year. However, the signature paper had been signed by his grandfather the day after his wedding ceremony to Magritte, in the month of February, and witnessed by Ace, and signed by Attila's old lawyer.

After his marriage to Magritte, Attila renewed his Last Will and Testimony, excluding his new wife from his entire land and property estate and bank accounts, naming his only existing two blood relatives, his grandson Ace and his great granddaughter Gem, as the heirs of his American throne. And he added the signed pre-nuptial legal document, which had been signed by Magritte herself promising not to take any assets from Attila, in case, he died and ascended into heaven.

Ace nodded with a smile. "She does not know that I know. She signed a pre-nuptial agreement not to rob my grandfather and my daughter and me of his earthly possessions. I don't need the money, but that isn't the legal point here. She is not a Smith, only a scavenger." He refolded and replaced the document, locking the tiny hidden drawer, re-hiding the tiny key in the same place. He slowly stood upright from the floor and exhaled with fury, leaving the man cave, standing inside the hallway again. He was still continuing the search for the roller machine. Ace was going to find the hard proof and viciously accuse Magritte of an attempted murder crime on his grandfather.

He shook his bone skull. "She would not hide any type of foreign object here inside the dining room or sitting room or den room, where everyone eats or plays or lounges. Someone might find it. It is not here. So, it is upstairs. Yes, it is upstairs." He moved ahead with a smile and turned the wall corner, stomping up the left side of the grand staircase while making lots of loud footfalls, stopping in the middle of the second floor hallway area, which was wider than the first floor hallway.

The forward wall on the second level hallway displays a row of very large and wide undivided glass windows that presents a breath-taking view of the lush wilderness, on the third tier of the house. If he squinted his two eyelids really close and as his brain cells worked, Ace could see beyond the grove of twisted and entangled tall trees, plants, vines, and pockets of flowers and find a winding creek water that stands three miles from the house, on a clear day.

The high window view offers the ground level on the rear yard featuring more flat solid slabs of vanilla colored concrete that extends 1,000 feet from the exterior wall with a set of four French doors coming from the first floor second hallway. The house does not possess an attached garage. Because back in time, in the Old South, the flat grassy yard was comprised mostly of soft dirt for parking all of the visiting coach wagon and their horses.

During a rainy day, Attila parked his personal pickup trunk underneath a conveniently created covered veranda from the second floor balcony, entering through the side door into the kitchen setting, without getting soaked in raindrops.

After marrying his second wife Magritte, she had insisted upon a new mode of transportation, a limousine. Attila had never ridden in a limousine. Both his dead son and his dead first wife had been cremated, after the individual soul had left the earthly plane and passed into heavenly plane. So, her new husband purchased a new limousine for his greedy bride and housed the long transport several yards away from the grand mansion inside an ancient tall yellow tinted cedar block building that had held numerous bales of cotton in the year 1834, when his grandfather Smith had plowed the field and planted rows of cotton seeds.

Standing inside the middle of the hallway setting, the floor is covered in the original dark wood and shiny from the natural sunlight beams coming from each glass window in-between a large rug. Each wall is painted in tan hue that does not clash with the furniture or the floor. On the forward wall, in front of the row of low-lying glass windows, a pretty living setting offers a long sofa and a matching loveseat in dark green leather sitting ready for the next guest. Each side wall displays solid plaster wall without decorations and kisses a thirteen foot ceiling with a small wooden bookshelf on each end that holds an assortment of tiny objects. The second floor level which reaches twenty feet in the air from the first floor level appears as an empty space that does not exhibit any additional living room space or bedroom chambers.

However, each wooden book shelf appears slightly slender and narrow disguising a hidden door. During the War of 1812, when the British kingdom and their numerous and annoying Red Coats invaded the legal land property of the United States of America for a second time, the next round of grand residential manors were built with an assortment of secret and disguised hidden doors, holding the group of scary owners in the dark from the attacking enemy forces.

Ace turned and faced the side wall, slowly veering towards the wall corner intersection at the forward wall, stopping in front of a slender book shelf in tan hue that matched the wall, reaching up and pressed the third shelf without rocking the tiny objects with his three finger pads, feeling the movement. He jerked back his hand. The book shelf hidden door swung inward and revealed a tiny enclosed storage room, without the illumination. He flipped on the light switch and gasped in shock, seeing numerous items in pink, yellow, orange, and red that represented girly stuff, coming from Magritte. He laughed. "O! This is where my granddaddy stored all of her girly shit. I need to tell Magritte that shared information, before I strangle her wrinkled throat with my two bare hands, like my idol the Quartet leader and boss man, Austin Berrington, the fourth," he laughed out loud and flipped off the light switch, back stepping from the open archway. The cleverly designed book shelf door automatically closed and locked in place. He scooted sideways and stopped on the opposite end, reaching out, touching the second shelf on another book shelf design feeling the movement. The hidden door opened and revealed an extremely long, rectangular bedroom. He moved ahead and stopped a few feet from the open archway as the door automatically closed shut but was not locked from the outside.

The bedroom is painted in pale blue tinted walls with a dark wooden floor surface, and numerous dark wooden bedroom furniture pieces. The forward wall and both of the side walls exhibit rows of low-lying undivided glass windows that shows off the side yard and rear lawn, including the thick wilderness, a pale blue sky, and rolls of white clouds, right now. This bedroom chamber had belonged to his father. Attila had birthed one child, who lived here, until his marriage to Ace's mother. Each painted wall contains numerous tiny, small, and large framed glass pictures of his father, his mother, his sister, his grandparents, and himself during the happier time of Ace's life. Some of the newer pictures included his daughter Gem and his grandfather, who were his only two blood relatives left on Planet Earth.

On the forward wall and the side walls, spare pieces of short wooden furniture lean against the portions of the solid wall, without covering the glass, blocking the view of the skyline. On the entrance wall of solid pale blue paint, the hidden entrance door occupies one of the wall corners. Beside the doorway, bedroom chests and a night stand guard a four-post bed frame with a pale blue tinted bedcover and then a second night stand kisses a set of taller chests that hold a mystery as no person lives inside this bedroom. Towards the end of the entrance wall, a pocket door opens into a private lavatory, which had been used by his deceased father as a young kid.

Ace balled both of his hands into a pair of tight fists and growled at an absent Magritte. "She did not perform her evil magic in here. I know it. I can feel and taste and smell it. This room is untouched by her stinky, cheap perfume." He back stepped from the room and moved through the open archway, standing back inside the hallway. The door automatically closed and then shut without locking for the invited guest. To open the door without a door handle, the invited guest or family member used the pressure points that was built inside the rear board on the wooden book shelf for entering the private room. He spun around to face the other side wall, seeing a duplication, scooting around the staircase banister, approaching the side wall of tan hue. He stopped and stood in the wall corner beside the forward wall of windows, staring at a third built-in slender book shelf, reaching off and touched the correct wooden plank. The door opened and revealed in the short distance a set of rough, naked wooden steps that climbed upwards the attic room. He laughed out loud with a smile. "She didn't go upstairs, because the she-ghosts would have chased her back down to the second floor level." The manor was not haunted as no blood relative or friend or strange human body had been murdered in the house or on the grounds. But the modern day air conditioning and heating system and all of the connected metal vents and all of the new electrical cables were located there inside the attic room, producing a series of ghostly noises and squeaky sounds. If Magritte had dared to venture up the sturdy but rough staircase of wooden steps with her girly curiosity, then she would had ran back down screaming in fear of the tiny mouse-like sounds.

Ace back stepped from the hot air molecules watching the hidden door close shut and then lock, scooting sideways against the smooth paint, stopping in front of the last book shelf design. He touched the right spot on the top shelf and watched the door swing open, revealing a second rectangular room that was fit the length of the house which was painted in yellow hue. He slowly entered the room and scanned the environment laughing out loud. "Color my world! Wow, Granddaddy! Do you go wave surfing on top of your bed mattress? That bedcover belongs in the ocean waves with the crazy pattern of rainbow colors in green, blue, and purple hues. That is a feminine touchdown. Ugh! I'll glad Fawn and I agree on stuff, together, like the proper married couple."

The rest of the gigantic rectangular shaped room features heavy gray-tinted marble bedroom furniture on the long side wall without a glass window. The room is a duplicate of the first bedroom with a forward and two side walls of undivided glass windows that hold scattered smaller pieces of marble tables in-between the wall plaster sections.

Ace slowly scanned the room, not knowing if any item was out of place coming from Magritte and gave up on that mental thought and turned to face the side wall of glass windows, moving around the furniture pieces and then stopped, standing in front of the first pocket door. He gasped in shock and stared at the door, turning to the side, seeing a second pocket door with puzzlement. "Why are there two pocket doors? I don't know." He returned back and tapped the door, opening the wood, seeing a pink tinted bathroom. "O! I see. This is the 'her' bathroom. Let us see what this old girl holds." He entered female lavatory and carefully searched through each closed door, cabinet, and drawer, not finding a roller and presser machine or any type of white tinted liquid product. He exhaled with annoyance and spun around, exiting the clean lavatory, scooting down the wall and tapped on the second pocket door. The door opened and revealed the master bathroom.

The setting presents a solid black tinted floor surface and an old fashion tub which is coated in black hue with a stark white tinted lining. The wash sink displays a white tinted hue and is embedded down inside a black-tinted wooden vanity and is surrounded by black colored tile. The lower wall was covered in large black tiles going half-way up wall contracting with the yellow tinted solid upper walls. Bu, this is a manly man's bathroom, not a girly beauty vanity.

Ace felt terrible rummaging around inside his grandfather's personal bathroom, but his grandfather was sick inside a hospital bed with a heart attack by his new vicious wife Magritte. He exhaled with worry and stomped inside, carefully performing a thorough search for a roller and presser machine that could have created a gelatin capsule, which infected his grandfather, without finding the piece of equipment, staring at his face in the reflection mirror. "Ugh! I'm clueless and at a loss with a new idea. I have searched the obvious spots in the kitchen, the laundry room, each bathroom. I didn't search my father's bathroom. Yeah," he exhaled with sadness with the loss of his biological parents, which had been over fifteen years ago, but the empty pain still hurt his heart, mind, and soul. He exited the manly bathroom and left the master bedroom without dropping a strand of hair, rushing across the hallway floor, standing on the side wall and tapped the correct spot on the hidden door.

Ace quickly entered the first bedroom setting again and rushed around each furniture piece, standing in front of the pocket door, tapping the wood. The door opened and revealed a pale blue bathroom in tile and walls, rapidly searching, finding empty drawers, cabinet surfaces, and closet shelves. No one lived in this room, not even the he-ghost of his father which might have been wonderful for Ace to see his fatherly image again, if Ace believed in that mystical shit, which he did not. He exited the bathroom and left the bedroom setting for a second time, standing in the middle of the hallway floor. "Damn! Damn! Damn! It is here and it is well-hidden. And I'm running outta of time." He whipped out his mobile telephone and checked for a new text message, seeing all of the new ones from Belle, not Fawn or Kam, which might be good news for his sick grandfather. He replaced the phone back down inside his trouser pocket and stared at the gigantic glass window that stood thirty feet up from the foyer room, seeing the pale sky, rolling white clouds, and a flock of flying birds. One of the flying birds was too close to the exposed glass window and needed to relieve its crowded butthole with its delicious lunch meal of ingested earthworms, dropping down a single pile of hot poop which partially slammed into the clear glass with the rest landing on the rooftop. Ace laughed out loud at the funny natural sight while pondering how to clean sticky bird poo off the upper window on the tall mansion. "Shit! I see and smell shit! I know where the roller and presser machine are located." Ace raced ahead and then slid over the smooth wooden floor, standing in front of another pocket door, nodding with laughter.

The pocket door housed a fourth lavatory for the paid house staff and their personal butthole usage. Back in time, during the Old South, the working domestic slaves did their thing outdoors a few feet from the manicured dirt and patches of grass. During the modern times, when the hired and paid house staff members needed to use the lavatory, without going upstairs into the family lavatory, the owner had built a new bathroom for the staff members. Ace was not allowed to use the staff bathroom out of respect for the paid workers, going upstairs or outside on the flower bed. As an adult, he still was not allowed to use the fourth lavatory for the same respectful reasons and did not piss outdoors on the flower beds anymore, until after his grandmother had died. His granddaddy always pissed his urine outside, when he was busy with all of his outdoor work.

Ace reached up and slid the door open revealing a long and gigantic solid white-tinted bathroom with a dressing section, two toilet bowls, three wash sinks, and a pair of shower stalls. The forward short wall displayed a bubbled glass window that did not exhibit the grass or trees but brought inside natural sunlight. Beside the window pane, several mounted ceramic white tinted hanging racks displayed numerous bath and hand towels in stark white hue. He scooted inside the archway and felt really terrible about invading the personal bathroom for the hired staff made all of the deadly gelatin capsules. The shower stall stood on the right side across from the row of wash sinks embedded in a long wooden cabinet. Ace padded to the cabinet and squatted down, carefully searching the interior tiny walls that held numerous personal bath items, but not a small piece of metal equipment. He cursed out loud with disappointment and stood upright, slowly spinning around, searching for another cabinet or drawer or closet, seeing built-in open wooden shelves with more folded towels and numerous bathroom items. "I can't believe that I'm so close here. It is not here either. But it is here. Where is that roller and presser machine?" He exited the bathroom, without closing the door or cutting off the light and stopped inside the hallway, still cursing with defeat. "What did Streg tell me? He had experienced and created one gelatin capsule in the privacy of his house by explaining the mechanic procedure. I can't remember the steps for creating a gelatin capsule. Maybe, one of the steps could lead me towards that damn tiny machine," he whipped out his phone and typed on the tiny keyboard, viewing the tiny screen and read out loud the information. "Start the encapsulation process. Melted gelatin is pumped through a machine that spits out two thin ribbons of gelatin. That's fine and dandy and will make a terrible mess, if I could find that damn machine.

"The two ribbons of heated gelatin passes over a series of rollers and are fed through two rotating die cylinders that determine the size and shape of single capsule structure, which forms two halves of the new soft, flexible capsule. Magritte had to execute the same procedure with the machine. I wonder if she did the dirty deed outside the house on top of the grass or the concrete in the heat. Naw! She is a true southern belle and the weather is truly blistering. The gelatin tablets would melt down onto the grass or the concrete slab staining both items within the hot sun, before pressing the hard tablets through the presser machine. So, she did it inside the ice cold air-conditioned house, but which house room.

"Spray down a large surface with bleach-based cleaner and then wipe the surface clean with a paper towel. After spraying, close all the doors and the windows keeping out any windy breezes, creating a sterile environment. Put on a pair of medical gloves before measuring the product. That's it! She wore a pair of rubber gloves for the dirty deed. Now, where is the garbage cans? O! The garbage man came yesterday to collect the smelly garbage from all of the smelly trash cans. Too late! Spray down a large surface with bleach-based cleaner and then wipe it clean with a paper towel. The dirty paper towel is gone also. After spraying, close all of the doors and the windows keeping out any windy breezes, creating a sterile environment. Wear a pair of medical gloves. Wait! Wait a second! I am thinking. Create a sterile environment inside the affected or selected room! She would follow the internet gelatin preparation directions exactly. Else, her set of deadly weapons would not work or melt on the floor or burn her two southern belle hands. Create a sterile environment keeping out any windy breezes. Windy breezes? Windy breezes!" He spun around to face the open archway inside the fourth lavatory and gasped in shock, slowly re-entering the room, spinning around on top of the floor and held his mobile telephone. He spotted the upper vent for the air-conditioning unit, gasping in shock. "Did she? Or didn't she? I will find out in three seconds." He jumped up from the floor and lifted his free arm, trying to touch the metal vent with his free hand, but he was too short in height from the sideways metal vent near the top of the arched ceiling, swiftly dropping back down on top of the hard tile. He sneered. "I'm too short in statue! I need a tall ladder for that a high vent, but I have another idea." He closed the door shut and cut off the lights, standing on top of the floor, closing both of his two eyelids and feel the cool air inside the bathroom. "This is not working. I don't hear the air conditioning unit running throughout the house," he opened the door and dashed away from the fourth lavatory, searching for the air temperature control panel inside the house on one of interior wall, punching the button menu down into a freezing temperature of 32 degrees Fahrenheit, inside the house. He left the exposed wall with the temperature panel and returned back into the dark lavatory, softly chuckling at his brilliant idea, closing the door again. He stood in the dark for a few seconds and then heard the mighty motors on the two air conditioning units click alive wtih power, feeling no breezy circulation of cold air inside the house staff bathroom. He smiled with victory but did not stir, continuing to stand in silence, not feeling a blast of ice cold waves on his face or body. He illuminated the light on his phone for sight and reached over, flipping on the row of ceiling lights, quickly exiting the lavatory room and raced out from the house into the storage shed, where the new limousine slept during the nighttime hours.

Ace found a tall ladder and entered back into the house through the foyer setting, trailing some dirt strands over the clean polished wooden floor surface. He didn't care, right now, if Magritte came home in shock and surprise. He had found the answer but needed the positive verification. He raced down the hallway tunnel and carefully entered the lavatory, standing the four heavy legs on top of the clean tile floor, balancing his body on each steel rim and then slowly climbed up the steel ladder, without hitting his hair roots on the wooden ceiling planks. He reached out and touched the metal vent, twisting his long finger pads through the slots, finding the vent panels shut and closed, which would create a sterile environment, without a windy breeze coming from a working air-conditioning unit. He decided not to adjust the vent panels for his explanation of an evil crime to the police authorities and scaled down the ladder, quickly returning the item back into the storage shed. No person would realize that the steel ladder had been shifted from its original position inside the building.

Ace returned back to the scene of the crime inside the fourth lavatory and slowly examined the countertop and each wash sink, squatting down, snooping around the toilet lid and found nothing. He slowly stood upright and frowned with annoyance. "She made each gelatin capsule in here, after sterilizing the tile countertop and the stainless wash sink, before and after her dirty deed. Now, all of her physical evidence is down the drain, literally. I could call a plumber and get him to tear the pipes apart from the wash sink, that would be very suspicious for me and silly of me. No one would believe my demon tale. And she is due back here within thirty minutes or less. Where is the damn roller and presser machine? Well, she chunked it in the garbage, Ace. I only got the closed vent which a hired staff member could have adjusted. That's a weakly legal case for performing cold-blooded murder," he reached down and gently pulled out the tiny gelatin capsule, placing the object on top of the tile countertop. "Where are the rest of your buddies, Jill? Do you have other hidden sisters and brothers, somewhere else here inside this house? Or are your sisters and brothers inside the designer purse on Gritty? I would guess so, since Gritty had limited time, before my granddaddy came back from his fun trip, without her. Why did he marry this bitch? Well, once my granddaddy is outta of the hospital, he is getting a quickie divorce, of course, after I have presented my legal case. My granddaddy believes me and loves me. And I love him." He stood upright and stared into the mirror, pondering the next step trying to find the roller and presser machine. His two eyeballs darted around the room, scanning each wall, the floor, and finally the toilet bowl again. He leaned over and lifted up the lid on each toilet bowl seeing the usual mechanisms. "Not there!" He stood upright again and leaned down, searching each drain pipe on the three wash sinks, finding no gooey evidence. "Not there either!" He stood upright with disappointment and stared into the reflection mirror while still pondering the next step, when a single ray of sunlight penetrated the bubbled glass window and slammed down into the dry floor on each shower stall, without twinkles or heat. His two eyeballs darted towards the stream of light and then followed the ray down into the floor on the shower stall, spotting a gulp of white tinted matter on the silver tinted shower drain. "No! No! No! Is it this easy? Is this a heavenly sign from Almighty God? Because I'm about to send a new vicious earth angel your way, if that spot is what I think it is." He slowly back stepped from the wash sink and spun around, moving ahead, reaching open and opened the glass door. He squatted down and leaned over, pulling out the phone, flipping on the bright flashlight beam and examined a tiny gulp of white liquid. that cling to its life around the silver tinted drain ring. A tiny thick clump of white tinted goo had settled around the curvy portion of the silver tinted metal drain. He gasped in alarm and slowly leaned backwards, closing the door, scooting over the floor and opened the second glass shower door. He leaned down and examined the second drain ring with the bright beam, finding no clump of white tinted goo. He slowly pulled back and closed the door, turning to stare at the tiny clump of white tinted goo on the first drain ring, whispering for his eardrums only, without angry emotion or victorious feelings. "She did it in here. She cut off the air conditioning unit first and then closed off the vents second, creating a sterile environment. Then, she toted a roller and presser machine and wear a pair of rubber gloves working each soft heated gelatin tablet into the shape of a capsule and inserted the contents down into the newly made capsule." He gasped in alarm and snapped his fingers. "I know. I know the location of the roller and presser machine." Ace slowly stood upright from the clean floor and spun around to face the open archway, dashing from the lavatory, laughing with an evil grin. He turned and raced down the hallway tunnel towards the front door, sliding around the wall corner, almost hitting that center table, cursing out loud. He balanced upright body and climbed the staircase alternating each step, producing loud footballs and reached the second level floor. He raced ahead and stopped in front of the book shelf disguised door at the wall corner on the forward wall of windows, rubbing both of his hands together. He reached out and pressed the rear wooden shelf at the correct pressure points with three individual finger pads. The door swung inwards again and exposed the same enclosed storage closet, smelling the strong cedar wood.

Ace stood in the archway and as his two eyeballs carefully perused each item on each built-in book shelf and then the floor, which was covered in Magritte's personal possessions. His eyeballs stopped and then studied a colorful, glossy object, the size of a shoebox. He shouted out loud. "I found you. I see it." He slowly entered the small space and carefully stepped over each item without making a mess, stopping in front of a short pile of dull boxes. He reached down and removed the first three boxes which held air molecules which cued his interest, holding the three boxes with one arm. The other arm reached out and touched the fourth box glowing in white tinted and painted with lovely jewelry items in red, blue, yellow, green, purple, silver, and gold. He slowly rattled the glossy cardboard box on top of the pile. The box was empty also like the other three dull looking cardboard boxes. Then he lifted up the glossy box and studied the exterior set of colorful pictures. The cover picture displayed a tiny metal-plated roller and presser machine that folded a tiny gelatin tablet, making a set of kiddie fake, harmless jewelry for a little girl.

Ace sneered. "Gritty really did it. She really made a set of deadly weapons from three gelatin tablets wtih this toy roller and presser machine, that almost killed my granddaddy." He gently shook the glossy box. "The box is empty also. She trashed the used and abused roller and presser machine. Why kept the gooey messy machine, after producing a set of deadly weapons that were used on my granddaddy? She kept the glossy box, thou, appearing like she was saving a girly gift for another child. She is brilliant. I'll give her that much credit. But I'm more brilliant. I have found the evidence of a box, without the deadly machine. This is a weak legal case for my accusation. But I'm not finished here, Gritty. I'll find more criminal evidence against you," he replaced the glossy box back down on top of the pile in the original spot along with the three dull-looking shoeboxes on top, slowly back stepping from the pile and the storage room. He closed the door and spun around, dashing ahead, stomping back down the staircase.

He hit the foyer floor and raced around the wall corner, down the tunnel hallway, returning back inside the lavatory space. He stood over the shower stall and stared down at the shower ring, focusing on the smear of white tinted substance around the silver tinted lining, mumbling to his eardrums. "I found her work station. I found her work machine. I found her work on top of the shower staff. What is that white stuff inside the gelatin table?" He gasped in shock and stood in place, exhaling his worries, shaking in his fear. He wanted to scream and yell and kill someone with his bare hands, expressing all of his furious fighting feelings, but the time required a set of precise slow movements to gather and collect the tiny clump of physical evident, which would identity Gritty as a true cold-blooded murderer. He mentally thought slowly wearing a heavy heart and carefully spun around from the shower stall, pulling out each vanity drawer, finding a set of ear sticks with a soft cotton head and a roll of tiny plastic bags that could contain a gooey clump of liquid from the shower drain. He grabbed several ear sticks and one plastic bag in one hand and spun around, slowly squatting down on the floor, opening the glass shower stall door. He leaned over and rubbed some of the white tinted liquid onto the cotton head of the ear stick, smearing the liquid inside the interior wall of the plastic bag. He collected a second sample of the white tinted liquid and smeared more the white contents inside the plastic bag for law legal evidence for the police department, dropping the coated ear stick down into the smeared plastic bag and zipped it shut. He placed the bag down into his trouser pocket for safekeeping. Ace used a second ear stick and collected a smaller amount of the white tinted, sitting backwards on his kneecaps, slowly lifting the soft cotton tip with the liquid near his two nose holes, gasping in shock. "I know that odor." He slowly stood upright from the floor and spun around, snatching up the tiny gelatin capsule that twirled in blue and white colors, leaving the lavatory setting. He didn't care that the room was open and lit with all of his finger prints.

Ace dashed ahead and entered the kitchen setting, rushing into the laundry room, standing in front of the side wall. He placed the tiny gelatin capsule on top of the clean countertop and reached out, grabbing the detergent tub, ripping off the lid. He reached down and pulled out one of the detergent pods, examining the liquid that glittered in white and blue colors, shouting out loud in horror. "No! No! No! Sweet Jesus! No!" He smashed the pod open and inhaled the scent that burned his nostrils. He reached over and smashed the tiny gelatin capsule spilling out the pretty white and blue liquid that burned his nostrils, too, while smelling the familiar odor. "No! No!"

His phone chimed with a new text message. With tears in both of his eyeballs, Ace whipped out the phone and read the new text message from Fawn: **Where are you, Ace?**

He looked down at the time: 4:04 pm. Ace had promised to come home early and kick out all of the pretty southern belles from his house while spending a nice quiet evening with Fawn. He forgot about that promise and deeply worried about the life of his grandfather.

A second text message appeared on his phone: **Ace, are you coming back to the hospital? Love, Chastity.**

A third text message dinged and appeared on the screen of his phone **: She has left the building**.

Ace gasped in shock. Magritte was leaving the hair salon on St. Francis Steer at the Battle House Hotel and would be back at her home within thirty minutes. He needed to leave her house. Fawn was looking for his arrival back his home from his last day of work and his formal girlfriend was crazy in love with something. He left the laundry room and rushed around the kitchen space finding a larger second plastic bag, sliding the messy detergent contents from the laundry room countertop and the two broken gelatin capsules down into the compartment, sealing the bag. He didn't want the police suspicious of his spying activities, before they heard his side of the crime and the criminal. And he didn't want to tattle to anyone else, until he could chat with Kamius and present the broken gelatin capsule with the detergent liquid. Kamius must immediately test the blood in his grandfather for toxins and poison. Then Ace could tell the story and Magritte could be arrested for attempted murder. Ace quickly cleaned the messy spot and stuffed the dirty paper towel down into the same bag, dashing out from the laundry room, through the kitchen space, racing down the hallway and slammed into the front door without opening the metal. "Damn! The air conditioning unit is running for a day in the North Pole." He spun around and stopped by the lavatory, cutting off the light, closing the door which appeared like normal again. Then he raced back to the exposed wall and increased the panel temperature to 72 degrees Fahrenheit, spinning around with panic dashing back down the hallway tunnel and exited the house and locked the door, keeping the spare key.

At 04:07 pm, Ace entered his pickup truck and then slowly steered down the familiar road with a heavy heart and an avenging mind, pulling ahead in front of one of the three garage doors. He entered through the front door with a fake smile and a heavy heart, without bothering to comment on the ugly pirate themed bridal shower decorations, seeing his girl Fawn. His daughter Gem was not home and attended one of the social functions as one of fifty Azalea Trail Maids for the city of Mobile. And Ace had not bothered to inform his daughter with the terrible dead act on her great-grandfather yet. He still wanted to investigate the murder angle first.

His fiancé Fawn stood in the middle of the room and wore the same, dirty pink-tinted outfit, sobbing with her wet tears of defeat and disappointment, regarding her broken vocal cords. She was heartbroken that Dr. Sam Germer could not perform the delicate surgery removing the fibrosis condition on her pair of voice cords. She had followed his medical advice and contacted every ear, nose, and throat medical physician, who had heard of the medical condition, but would not perform the surgery, without permanently injuring the affected patient. Thus, Fawn was destined to remain mute, without a medical or magical miracle.

Ace left his military jacket and ratty briefcase inside the cab of his truck, studying Fawn and her rolling tears with puzzlement, stopping in front of her body. He growled in shock. Wicked bitch Magritte had typed out a terrible text message from her personal mobile telephone and sent the horrible information to his girl Fawn about her husband Attila, since Fawn possessed a phone but could not talk into the devise. Now, Fawn would be upset for the rest of the night regarding Attila.

He hugged her and exhaled with worry, talking over her hair roots. "I'm so sorry that you had to hear the terrible news, this way."

She hugged Ace with confusion and sniffed up the stream of clear runny snot back into her two nose holes, touching his arm, saying into his mind.

i am so sorry too.

He said. "My granddaddy had suffered a heart attack here this morning. I hoped that scary event didn't upset you. He is doing fine at the hospital. And I am a healthy male," he gurgled a silly laugh to easy the heavy mood of sorrow.

She gasped in shock with the new information, without making a sound. Fawn had left the house, Attila, the gang of southern belles, and Magritte early this morning and missed his heart attack. But Ace did not seem to know about her disappearance from the house, this morning, either. She would stay silence about the numerous visits to an array of medical physicians.

Fawn said into his mind.

we should go to the hospital, right now. i was waiting on you to come back home. i want to go and visit with attila, right now.

He exhaled with worry. "Yes, that's a good idea. I wanna go and see my granddaddy and talk with his physician." She pulled back and smiled at Ace whipping off her personal tears of disappointment, nodding to him. His phone sounded with a familiar country song. Ace pulled out the phone and realized the familiar telephone number, lifting the devise into his face. "Yes." He listened to the other party and then gasped in alarm. "What!" He listened again. "Thanks!" He disconnected the phone call and dropped the phone by his side, smiling at Fawn. Then, his phone sung out loud with the same familiar country song. He lifted the phone to his face, without seeing the telephone number, knowing the bad news: Samuel Attila Smith had died three minutes ago. He spoke. Yes." Then he listened to the doctor and repeated her words. "My granddaddy had passed away. Thanks for calling me, Kam! I'm heading to the hospital, right now."

Fawn gasped in alarm and covered her mouth, mentally thinking within her mind.

this is my fault. if i had been here, then i could not saved Attila.

Ace shook his head without hearing her words inside his mind. "No one is at fault here, Fawn. My granddaddy had a heart attack. He was an elderly man and his time was here. I do believe that a higher entity watches, glides and kills us," he laughed with amusement. She sobbed with tears. He leaned over and cuddled her feeling her set of hot tears through the dress shirt, soaking down into his chest. Magritte would not get away with the cold-blooded murder of his grandfather. Ace had the evidence in a tiny plastic bag, which was farfetched and unbelievable. He would show the gelatin capsule found inside his house and the ear stick of the same substance explaining his murder theory. Maybe, Kam could quickly run medical tests and find the toxins before the dead body expelled the evidence.

Ace released Fawn and pulled back stating with a slight smile. "Why don't you stay here? The hospital hallway is going to be overcrowded with all of his old friends and one family member, which is me. I must go and claim the body and prepare all of the legal stuff, since I am his grandson and his lawyer."

i thought magritte had to prepare the funeral arrangement as his wife.

He nodded. "She can do that. but she is newly married for two months. I am an old hand at legal work. and I don't wanna see you upset with all of the people there, who will be crying and sobbing and talking about old times. Then, each one will be hugging and touching you with their wet hands."

stop! okay! i will stay here. does gem know? i did not contact her. was i supposed to contact her.

"No. Let me do it! She is away from Mobile doing something for the Azalea Trial Maids."

trail maids.

"Whatever!" He leaned over and kissed her lips, pulling back with a wink. "I am going. I'll be back much later. Will you wait here and stay up later watching for me?" She nodded with giving

talking back into his mind. She could tell that Ace was upset with the terrible news. He had one blood relative left in the world, and it wasn't Fawn. He continued. "I will contact Gem and have her drive back here tonight. Wait! Could I ask you leave here and go and pick up Gem? I will call and find out where she is located." She nodded with a smile in silence. He frowned. "Well, maybe not, it's getting too late in the afternoon driving among the work traffic." She shook her curls with a smile. He said. "Well, maybe, it is okay. are you shore? I don't know where Gem is located at. I will call and find out. Then she can call you and explain where she is located." Fawn nodded with a smile. He shook his bone skull. "After thinking about, I will go and collect her, where ever she is at." She shook her curls with a smile. He smiled. "Are you okay driving to go and get Gem? I don't know where she is located? You're upset too. I don't want you driving, if you are upset, too. I'm upset but not like you. And Gem will become really upset."

Fawn reached up and touched his arm, speaking into his mind.

you are too stressed. i am not too upset. i can go and collect gem and bring her back home. you leave from the house and go to the hospital and help magritte with the legal paperwork. don't worry about us. i am fine. i will go and get gem. get going, honey!

He leaned over and kissed her lips, pulling back with a smile. "Well, since, you're such a sweetheart and I'm going to marry you, next week. I love you, Fawn. You go and collect Gem. I'm off to the hospital to get Magritte," he laughed with an evil smirk regarding the play on words and spun around while still laughing out loud with the upcoming secret murder of another evil soul. Fawn frowned at his back spine with puzzlement, in silence. Ace shouted out loud and headed towards the front door, "I love you, Fawn. Don't tell Gem about the dead, only that he is in the hospital. I will tell Gem tomorrow about the death of Attila." He exited the house and dashed to his pickup truck, cranking the engine, reversing the vehicle from the garage door and steered ahead on Ansley Lane toward the hospital. he pressed the blue tooth devise and called Gem's personal mobile telephone.

She answered on the first ring. "Hi, Daddy!"

"Hi, sweetheart! Are you too busy for me?"

"I'm never too busy for my daddy."

"Sweetheart, I have some bad news."

"What! What's wrong! Is something wrong with you or Fawn? What is it, Daddy? I can leave right now, from the city of ..." she started to sob with tears.

Ace exhaled with worry and continued to speed around the slower vehicles on the roadway. "Sweetheart, I don't want you driving back home right now. Granddaddy is in the hospital. So, Fawn is leaving the home and coming to get you, driving you back home here in Mobile. Don't worry, Gem! Daddy has this covered in soft dirt," he laughed out loud.

She continued to sob through the telephone speaker. "Daddy! What is wrong with Granddaddy?"

"He is an old man, honey. Don't worry about it, Gem! Now, could you please call Fawn and explain your location? The hour right now is the beginning of the nasty work hour traffic, so it will take Fawn some time to reach your destination. Then, I want both of you to stay home and stay put. I'm in the car going to the hospital and filing out the paperwork..."

"What paperwork, Daddy?"

"The usual paperwork for a patient in the hospital. I need to get off the phone, now, honey, before I start cussing out all of the lazy car drivers, that are blocking my flight pathway. I love you, Gem. Call Fawn for directions, girl! Bye, sweetheart!" He quickly disconnected the telephone call and exhaled with fury, pressing the gasoline pedal down onto the floor, rushing through heavy traffic to the hospital. He wanted to reach Kam and show her the evidence of a cold blooded murder of his grandfather by the known murderess, before Ace decided to kill the bitch himself.

At 04:44 pm, Ace arrived at the hospital parking lot and selected an empty spot for his pickup truck far away from the entrance door, killing the engine, sliding out from the cab. He was too angry and mad about the cold blooded murder of his granddaddy while needing to kill off some of his murderous intentions, before seeing Magritte. He started jogging towards the glass doors and raced for several minutes, without breathing heavy, entering the lobby, dashing up the staircase. He skipped the elevator ride and climbed the steps clearing his active mind, straightening out his mental thoughts, before seeing Kamius.

On the seventh floor, he stepped off the staircase and moved down an empty, quiet hallway. Once Attila has died, the medical staff members ran the friends and neighbors off the working hallway. Ace entered the ICU room and stopped beside the hospital bed, staring down at a white tinted sheet that held the dead body of his granddaddy. The body was covered for respect and as one arm hung down from the linen sheet and was colored in dark blue hue. The hospital room was very quiet, without the soft beeps and thumps coming from the wall of equipment machines. Kam stood beside the body typing on the computer laptop, filling in the information.

Ace exhaled with angry and calmed his emotions, slowly speaking with his normal timber. "Kam, I'll so glad to see you here."

She looked up and nodded with a stern face. "Ace, I am so sorry. I did everything to save Attila."

He nodded. "I know that. But, did you find any strange contents inside his stomach lining? I asked you to test for a foreign object from his stomach."

"I did that. There was not an object inside his stomach, only the normal fluids and liquids."

Ace gasped in alarm. "That! That's impossible. There...there had to be something inside his stomach. Did you test for toxins or poison within his chemical system?"

"Why on Planet Earth would Dr. Kamiru Feenker need to test for a toxin inside the guts on Attila?" Magritte was sitting on top of the long sofa against the opposite wall, holding a laptop, sneering at Ace. Ace turned and gasped in shock, not seeing Magritte at first but hearing her words second. She slowly stood upright from the sofa and moved ahead with a smile, extending the laptop back to Kamiru. "Here! I have finished all of the electric paperwork. Why are you here, Ace?" Kamius accepted the second laptop and stared at Ace also.

Ace gasped in shock and then exhaled with annoyance, nodding his bone skull to Magritte. "Can I see and spend some private time with my granddaddy for the last time, before he is moved out from the room?"

Magritte sneered. "No! That is not needed here. He is dead and gone. You need to grow up, Ace. This is part of the cycle of life and death."

Kam nodded with a smile, "Yes, of course, take a little time and visit with your granddaddy, Ace." She moved ahead and exited the hospital room leaving Ace and Magritte, both alone and alive.

Ace returned back to the white sheet. "I would like a little time to spend with my granddaddy, Magritte."

She continued to stand too close near Ace and growled her words in the air. "I heard your words the first time. I am not deaf ..."

"... only dumb ..." he mumbled.

"Did you ask me a question, Ace? I did not clearly hear your statement." She smiled.

He exhaled with annoyance and did not touch the sheet. Ace wanted to drop down the sheet and examine the breathing ventilator on his dead grandfather. Maybe, some of the white gooey detergent liquid had coated and then settled directly onto the interior plastic on the ventilator which would prove his murder theory and send Magritte to the electric chair in Montgomery. However, she would not leave Attila or Ace alone.

He leaned over and pretended to examine the sheet without seeing the body of his grandfather.

Magritte fidgeted in place and stated with a smirk. "Now, that Attila has died and will be buried in a couple of days. The reading of his Last Will and Testimony has been scheduled on Monday afternoon. My personal lawyer will perform the reading. Are you interested in attending the meeting, Ace?"

"What!" Ace flipped around and sneered at Magritte. She and he knew that she had forged Attila's signature on that fake Last Will and Testimony, in order to grab all of the bank accounts, land and house property assets from the Smith homestead. And she and he knew that Magritte had murdered Attila, in order to acquire the bank accounts and house property assets from the Smith household.

He cleared the bile from his throat. "I am not interested in attending the reading of the Last Will and Testimony for my granddaddy. He does not have any assets that I need or want or desire. I am not in his will, since he had remarried you, of course."

She gasped in shock and then smiled with a nod. "Ah! You are a true gentleman. I was wrong about you, Ace," she laughed out loud.

"I am never wrong about anything, Gritty," he laughed with her. Ace didn't have time to perform a visual and physical examination of the breathing ventilator on his dead grandfather in front of Magritte. And he would not be able to convince Dr. Feesher with his murder theory. So, he would perform his deed later in the evening, when the good physician and the nasty wife were gone from his sight.

The door opened and revealed the face of Kam. "I am sorry here, but both of you need to leave the hospital room. We need the bed for another patient."

Ace spun away from the dead body and exited the room, reaching out, grabbing Kam by the arm and moved ahead towards the side wall. Magritte followed the back spine on Ace and stopped a few feet from him and Kam. Ace said. "I was upset about my granddaddy in the hospital. Now, he has died. I thought he might have consumed something that affected his heart and now his breathing. After all, I did not own the cater vendor that provided food trays at my house. I don't wanna another murder scene in my house. One is enough," he softly chuckled and winked at Magritte. She gasped in shock.

Kamiru nodded to Ace. "I can understand, Ace. You are upset from the first news and now the last new is more trauma. All of my medical tests were thorough, Ace. Attila had a heart attack. There was not any type of foreign object or substance inside his body."

Ace turned and frowned at Kam. "So, what did he die from, Kam?"

Kam nodded. "Attila had another major heart attack. His heart organ couldn't take the attack and stopped working. That's it! That's all! If you will excuse me, I must leave and attend to another patient. I am sorry, Ace. I offer my sympathies."

Ace nodded back with a stern face. "Thanks, Kam. I appreciate all of your medical skills here for my granddaddy." Kam spun around and moved down the hallway to her next patient.

Magritte spun around also and laughed out loud, padding ahead towards the elevator doors. Ace slid down and sat alone in the oversized mint green colored chair, pondering his granddaddy in silence.

At 04:50 pm, on the entrance wall, the elevator door slid open and revealed a set of people. Three individuals moved off the carriage and floated around the room. Magritte entered an empty carriage with a wicked smirk and spun around, pressing the lobby button, planning the funeral arrangement for her deceased husband. The door slid closed shut.

The three individuals scattered around the hallway and then selected an individual chair, sitting around Ace. Ace looked up with a stern face and gasped in shock, nodding to each individual in silence. One at a time, each individual stood upright from the selected chair cushion and stretched their long limbs, spinning around, heading towards the elevator doors and waited for the carriage, leaving the ICU hallway.

After the last individual had been gone from the chair and the ICU hallway for a few minutes, Ace slowly stood upright with sour frown and headed towards the one of the three elevator doors, waiting on the carriage, leaving the ICU floor also. The carriage traveled down with Ace and the other family members and visitors to the lobby floor. He exited the carriage and left the hospital building, padding through rows of parked cars, spotting a white tinted mini-van, stopping beside the side door. He tapped on the door.

At 05:16 pm, in the blistering sunlight of another heated day in the summer, the side van door opened wide and revealed a living setting with one sideways bench seat that held two of the three individuals sitting with Ace on the ICU hallway furniture. Ace climbed into the rear compartment and closed the door, sitting down on a second sideways bench seat beside Streg. Streg wore a head of shoulder length brownish-red hair strands, a tone of bronze skin, a pair of amber colored eyeballs. His handsome but rough face displayed a prominent permanent scar that curved around his left cheekbone, a broken nose that grew the wrong direction towards the right cheekbone, and a set of long black tinted eyelashes that any woman would envy. He wore a white tinted, short-sleeved tee shirt, a pair of tan colored walking short, and a pair of tan colored flip-flops.

Ace nodded to each person. "I am here. What's going on?"

On the first sideways bench in dark brown hue, an extremely tall and wide body frame of thick muscles on a young adult male leaned against the soft cushion, displaying a bald mound, a pair of gray-colored irises, and a tone of pale tinted skin. On each side of his muscular leg, two dogs rested down on top of the cool metal floor, staring at Ace also. Then a brown-tinted Greyhound dog breed stood upright from the floor and left his master's side, padding ahead towards to Ace, lying his muzzle on top of Ace's leg, sitting down on the floor and stared up at Ace with sympathy also. Ace reached down with a weak smile and gently patted the short hairy bone skull on the dog.

Dogs are sensitive to human emotions and can sense, when a human is happy or sad, providing unconditional doggie love without reward. If only a human could do that for another human or another animal, then the universe would be at peace and harmony.

The other dog, a black and white colored Great Dane dog breed scooted from the same master's side and moseyed over, stopping beside Ace, placing her muzzle down on the other kneecap on Ace, staring up at the Ace with a pair of blue tinted irises, too.

Ace turned with a smile and reached down, gently rubbing the second hairy bone skull on the canine.

On the forward bench seat, the second occupy was an unnamed female, with a head of cropped red tinted hair strands, a sweet smile, a tone of pink-tinted skin, and a pair of green tinted eyeballs, wearing a yellow tinted long sundress with a pair of matching flat sandals, displaying a hand gun by her side on top of the rest of the leather seat. She nodded with a sad face at Ace. "We all heard about Attila. He was a good man. We all offer our condolences, Ace."

Ace looked up from the dog and nodded with a stern face to the known but unnamed female. "Thank you."

She continued. "Fawn has been skipping out on the decoration party, since Monday morning. She has been visiting an array of medical physicians throughout the city asking about her voice cords. She is trying to find a talented physician, who can correct her medical problem. Did you know that information, Ace?"

Ace shook his bone skull. "No. She didn't tell me," he chucked with his secret. "She didn't write down her feelings that she was seeing a medical physician for her mute issue. I really don't mind that Fawn can't talk to me, since we enjoy communicating in other ways."

"Well, Fawn has found one. His name is Sam Germer MD. He is talented infectious diseases medical physician and an operating surgeon. And he has identified her medical condition, a thick coat of fibrosis streaks on each one of her voice folds, which can be fixed by a laser surgery procedure. However, Dr. Sam has a tiny medical problem. His two hands shake continuously and cannot be trusted with a dangerous laser heated beam on any live and healthy human body part. However, he is the only medial surgeon that can perform the operation fixing the voice cords on Fawn without further damaging her body part. And I have a brilliant solution for Dr. Sam that will help Fawn and her damaged voice folds, with your approval, of course, Ace."

Ace gasped in shock and nodded several times with a smile back to the brilliant young adult female. The three individuals were his personal Resources, who were unknown, hidden, smart, talented, and direct to the point. They didn't like playing games and Ace didn't like participating in their games. They went straight to the heart of the problem and provided a solution that didn't involve Ace or his family members. Ace only had to agree to the dangerous or deadly solution.

Ace continued to pat the bone skull on each canine with warmth and nodded with a stern face. "Do it!"

The female softly chuckled and nodded back with an evil smirk. "It is so."

Streg faced the nose profile on Ace and growled with angry. "Magritte murdered Attila. We all want revenge here. Do you wanna involve your two friends Slick and Buck? Do you agree with that, Ace?"

Ace exhaled with worry. "My two co-workers and friends, Slick and Buck, know of your repetitions, not your names or faces. Today, my co-workers have retired from their day jobs and left the USA Coast Guard military branch for a permanent and enjoyable life of retirement. No, I do not want my two friends involved in this revenge party, only we, four." He did not turn to see Streg but shook his bone skull, still patting each dog skull. "Streg provided proof of the murder weapon and the murder plot. So, I do agree, but wait for my mark first! I gotta find some more answers to the questions banging against my brain cells inside my head, regarding the cold-blooded murder of my granddaddy. Then, we all will be dealing with Magritte. When will Dr. Sam perform his surgical magic on Fawn?"

The female smiled. "I am setting up the meeting first with Dr. Sam and then the surgical operation second with Dr. Sam inside one of the empty operating suites here at Mobile Hospital, tomorrow. Tomorrow morning is the Fourth of July, America's birthday with lots of birthday parties. The usual working medical staff members including nurses and physicians are all off of work for the gigantic birthday party. The hospital campus hosts a tiny skeleton medical crew for any type of unplanned and unexpected emergency situation for an infant, toddler, child, teen, young, mature, or elderly adult. However, no regular operations are planned or scheduled or performed inside any of the fourteen operating surgical suites, because no medical staff member is scheduled to work on America's birthday. I will have one of the operating suites prepped and ready for Fawn's upcoming surgical operation, Ace. So, you and she come at your leisure, before or after your celebration, anytime of day."

Ace nodded with a smile. "I appreciate you sacrificing your day off for me and Fawn."

"Don't sweat ant hills, Ace! I am paid for your appreciation." She laughed out loud.

He exhaled with hope and worry, nodding back to each face. "I am glad that we are meeting right now. I wanna express my appreciation to my last team of Resources. I am terminating each verbal, since nothing is ever written down here, dismissal of this team. You have performed fine and dandy, for me and for my deceased granddaddy and sister and my living daughter. But now, I am getting married next week, and I am retired from the USA Coast Guard military branch with lots of qualifications to care for my new bride and my biological daughter, alone and lonely. I wanna know, if each one of you are prepared to enjoy your new upcoming life of retirement. I have always paid you for your assignment services, but I am worth tons of millions that I am able to share to you. What did you say?"

Streg nodded with a smile. "I am set for life, Ace. You have paid me, very well, over the years. I look forward to this last assignment and then retire my ass into a life of luxury, without a care in the world. I might take up sailing and sail over to one of the Caribbean islands for some fun."

He smiled. "Well, then allow me to purchase you a fine sailing yacht, since I was a Coast Guard sailor, yesterday," he laughed with the others.

Streg smiled. "I can't ever say no to you, Ace. So, I'll say that's a deal, buddy!"

"I'll order and pay for the boat today and it will be delivered into a personally assigned berth at the Mobile Bay Yacht Club, tomorrow morning, in your true name." Ace nodded with a smile and turned to see the two other team mates. "And what about you, two and your retirement plans? Is there a dream life, after an unplanned retirement, that I can make come true?"

The female reached over and smiled at Ace, patting the naked arm on the tall unnamed male. "Julius and I have pooled our resources," she winked at Ace. "We have purchased a gigantic plot of rural unplowed crop fields near Brewton, Alabama and are creating and building a dog sanctuary, where any injured, stray or unwanted canine or cat can come and live with us. That's our dream life to help animals throughout the great State of Alabama and beyond. Humans are worthless, so Almighty God can deal with them."

Ace nodded with a smile. "That's a true Christian cause and let me help! I have created a foundation entity called The Gem Foundation, which provides free monies for all type of charity programs and helping animals is high on my personal list, too. I will provide both of your names and your new home address to my foundation manager. Then, my foundation will send you a great big, fat check of monies each month aiding in your noble cause. It is my honor and pleasure to assist here."

She nodded with a smile. "Thanks, Ace! We really are grateful for you and your monies."

"I'm the grateful one here. Almighty God gave me the monies to share and spend on everyone and everything. Now, everyone is set to retire after tomorrow, which will be our final goodbye and departure. I'll going to find my answers regarding my deceased granddaddy. Then we all can confront Magritte with these answers and hear her side of the story, before her face falls down into that six foot hole living the rest of her days with the maggots, worms, and roaches," he did not laugh but sneered with revenge and hatred for the southern belle, releasing both of his hands from each dog, slowly standing upright without hitting his hair roots on the low metal ceiling. He provided a final nod to his Resources in silence and spun around, sliding open the door, exiting the van. He closed the door with a huff and scanned a busy parking lot, searching for a familiar face, finding a sea of strangers.

Ace slowly moved ahead over the heated pavement and looked up at the bright sun rays while sweating in the hot air waves, plotting his next step. "Well, the weather is nice to me. It is not a tropical rain storm or a blowing Category I hurricane, which is common during the month. The dead body had been removed from the hospital room by the medical staff as the room was needed for another sick patient. So, the dead body was housed inside the hospital's morgue waiting for paperwork to arrive at the funeral home. He re-entered the hospital and padded around the lobby, reading the signs for the location of the morgue.

His deceased biological mother had volunteered her own time and visited some of the sick children on the ward, once per week, during the summertime days while dragging a whiny pre-teen son and daughter with her for the noble cause. Ace didn't like the hospital visitation to each sick child and would duck out from the children's ward, exploring the hospital campus, alone and unafraid, without supervision, stumbling upon the hidden and unmarked morgue door on the first floor by a set of ancient metal doors, by accident. He had entered the unlocked door and the unmarked room, walking a few feet down a dark wide hallway while feeling the cold air with confusion, until one of the physicians reached out and grabbed the collar bone on Ace from behind, sneering into the bone skull on Ace and tossed his ass out from the unmarked room. Of course, he immediately returned back to the children's ward and secretly chatted with one of the male nurses, finding out the secret room, the morgue of dead people. He never ventured back down and explored the morgue room again, as a pre-teen or teenager.

However, each hospital floor never changed its location, only the new medical staff and the set of new sick medical patients, so the morgue room was still in the same location on the first floor, which was etched into Ace's memory at the age of twelve years old.

On top of the first floor, Ace passed the perpendicular forward wall of three elevator carriages and continued down a hallway filled with open clinics and numerous patients, visiting one of the medical physicians, before the national holiday birthday party, the Fourth of July. The hospital campus would be opened but numerous medical departments would be closed for the annual celebration, so numerous parents and patients were seeing their personal physician at the last minute before the holiday weekend celebration. He passed a small food store for buying refreshments and the gift shop for a late minute present for a newborn baby or a sick patient on one of the nursing floors, moving beside a set of closed doors on each side of the hallway that held an array of medical offices with hospital workers, padding further down alone in-between a wall of dark orange paint, without a glass window or a pretty piece of art work, and then halted in front of an orange tinted, metal-coated double doors that were unmarked with an identifying name plate on the colored solid wall or one of the door faces. He didn't knock on the door for an invitation and pushed one of the massive unlocked doors open, revealing a wide semi-dark hallway like a tunnel, slowly entering into the morgue cold reception. He slowly moved down the short hallway and halted in front of a glass structure blocking the morgue room, featuring a short open window with an individual, who worked on the computer. Ace stopped and posed with a stern face, talking to the male employee. "Hello! My name is Ace Smith. My granddaddy is located here. His name is Samuel Attila Smith, the second. I wish to retrieve the hospital bag of personal items, before the dead body is sent away to the funeral home for processing. Thank you for your time."

The male clerk continued typing on the computer without looking to see Ace with the vocal request from Ace while nodding in silence. This was his hospital job in the morgue department, in which, each grieving blood relative had to came here and request the process for extracting the deceased personal items. He stopped typing and looked up with a smile. "One of your relatives have already received the bag of personal possessions. Thank you for coming by, sir!"

Ace gasped in shock and didn't realize that Magritte was so thorough, pondering another excuse to see his deceased grandfather. Ace wanted to take some of the dried fluid samples from the open hole of the tracheotomy from Attila's throat and compare with the liquid weapon to his body fluid, matching the murder weapon to the murdered human.

Ace cleared his throat and nodded with a slight smile. "Thank you for sharing that information. Could I please see my granddaddy for the last time, before the guys from the funeral home arrive and take the deceased back to the burial place?" He knew that request was allowed for a brief few minutes without permission from the medical physician or a hospital administrator. And he wanted to examine the dead body without the presence of Magritte or the medical physician.

The male employee frowned. "I am so sorry to inform you that the deceased has left the building," he didn't chuckle or smile. "The funeral guys have not come. The city morgue retrieval team came and went with your grandfather. He is residing at the city morgue for his review."

"Review! I am sorry here. What does that term mean?"

The male looked up and shook his cropped brown tinted hair roots at Ace. "I do not know. The information on the screen tells me that he left here and went to the city morgue on Government Street. I am sorry, sir. That is all the information I have at my access."

Ace gasped in alarm but remained calm playing the role of a confused blood relative, nodding with a smile to the employee. "My apologizes to you, again, sir! I am so sorry to disturb your work. My blood relative is very stressed and besought over the dead of my granddaddy. She has not informed me of the new plans. Thank you for sharing the information and your time. I really appreciate it."

"I am here to assist your need. You are most welcome. Please come back and visit the Mobile Hospital morgue department. Come by anytime for anything!" The male smiled with humor.

Ace gasped in amusement at the silly salutation and spun around from the window, softly cursing underneath his breathe, stomping down the semi-dark hallway. "She beat me to the body again. The body is located at the city morgue for another purpose. Why would the body be housed there? He should have been sent to the local funeral house for preparation of his burial. We all have a row of paid and waiting death plots for the rest of my non-dead family members at the local grave site. What is she doing? Why is she doing this? What is the reason? This is unbelievable. She is holding the body hostage from me and covering all of the physical evidence, so I can't prosecute her ass for murder, and I am a legal criminal lawyer and a formal military judge. I know law, crimes, police matters, and judges too. Well, I might be one step behind your high heels, but I can race ahead and catch up really quickly, Gritty girl." He exited the morgue room and stomped down an empty hallway, whipping out his personal mobile telephone, punching the icon picture. He lifted the devise into his face and waited on the connection, hearing the female voice. "I need you. come to the city morgue with all of your toys. My granddaddy is there, and he has been murdered. I know the murderess. Later!" He disconnected the line and viewed the numerous text messages coming from Fawn, Gem, and his formal girlfriend, responding back to Fawn and Gem, not the formal girlfriend with a fake hope and a promise of coming home early. He dropped the phone by his side and swiftly moved through the crowded lobby, exiting the hospital, locating his pickup truck.

He entered the truck and stored the phone, plotting the swiftest roadway through downtown Government Street to the City Morgue building, cranking the cold engine, peeling off the rubber from the four tires, exiting the hospital parking lot.

At 05:33 pm, after battling all of the tired workers inside a slow-moving automobile that had just worked a full time for their pay, Ace finally arrived at the City Morgue building, a squat shaped, white tinted structure, that displayed in bold black letters: Baldwin County, City Morgue, Office of the Coroner.

The parking lot was filled with other vehicles. Ace opened the door and slid off the seat, slamming and locking the door shut, pacing in front of the truck grill watching for the physician.

The city of Mobile was a busy scene for natives and visitors and rated 175th dangerous city in the USA. The largest city in the State of Alabama, Birmingham is ranked higher at 20th most dangerous place to live and not thrive until old age.

The city Mobile and the surrounding communities received the same treatment, like its sister city of Birmingham, when it came to violent crimes including murders, rapes, assaults, robberies, burglaries, thefts, auto thefts, and arsonists.

When a human body dies in a hospital setting or a private home hospice setting, the funeral home manager is called and comes to collect for the dead body, which is placed inside the morgue for prepping the deceased for the upcoming gravesite burial. When a human body dies outside a hospital or the home environment, the body is sent to the city morgue, where one of the blood relatives can come and claim the body, releasing the body to the funeral home for a proper burial.

A morgue room is only a wall of individual enclosed cooler machines, where the dead body is stored in a refrigeration state, stopping any further body decomposition. Sometimes, the mysterious death of the body is held in the morgue cooler machine, until an autopsy or an external examination by a pathologist can be performed to determine the prime cause of death, especially in a criminal police investigation matter.

On top of the blistering gray pavement, Ace continued to sweat in both water and fury at Magritte for the cold-blooded murder of his relative and then the abusive treatment of his granddaddy's dead body. However, Ace will prevail at the end of this mess, feeling victorious but sad at losing another blood relative.

he growled for his eardrums only. " What are you doing to me, Lord? you give me billions of dollars for fun but take away of my loving family unit for punishment."

"Hello, Ace!" A petite middle-aged lady appeared and stood beside the nose profile on Ace, looking up at his cheekbone. He spun around and smiled down at the hired physician.

The licensed medical physician for the US State of Alabama was named Amalia de la Rosa.

The name, Amalia, means, hard working, in the Filipina language.

Amalia measures five feet and zero inches in height and weighs 90 pounds and two ounces in body size, displaying a head of long black tinted hair strands, a pair of brown tinted irises, and a tone of beautiful coffee tinted color on her skin, wearing a flashy designer business suit in pink and yellow checkers with a solid yellow blouse and holds an orange tinted medical bag with her pathology toys for examining a deceased body. She had been born in the island of Philippines and migrated to the USA, when her parents left the Pacific island paradise for a better opportunity of life here in America.

Her parents had worked numerous manual labor and domestic jobs while supporting their daughter with the American dream through the America school system. Then her mother had accidentally came to work as a new housekeeper for Samuel Attila Smith and his massive mansion on Ansley Lane, inquiring about the newest paid house staff member. Upon learning of their personal drive and ambition for their persons and their daughter, Attila paid for young elementary student Amalia to attend the same private elementary school, where his grandchildren would start at the age of four years old, one day. Amalia is older than Ace.

Attila had believed in helping Americans first as an American patriot, but he also had believed in aiding others, like the Bible lessons taught as a spiritual soul. Almighty God had blessed Attila with tons of money, where Attila was required to share his earthly wealth with other persons, regardless of gender, color, height, weight, personality, and spiritual belief as stated in the Holy Bible.

If you don't believe that, then you need to read the Holy Bible or pray to the Holy Father or go straight down into hell fire and live the rest of your nasty soul's day and night hours with that bastard Satan and his clan of vicious male and female demons.

Amalia wasn't only a hard-working student in throughout her school days; she had a high brilliant attitude for both science and biology. Attila provided the monies and Amalia passed all the medical studies in college courses and medical school, becoming a licensed medical physician, veering into the field of pathology.

Ace found her appearance cute and her mind thoughts exciting, but her hands were always cold-feeling from handling all of the dead, cold deceased human bodies. He didn't like a pair of cold hands or the mental cold thoughts of those hands handling numerous dead bodies.

Amalia winked at Ace. "A private autopsy is very expensive ranging between three thousand to five thousand dollars. My fee is ..."

"... in the bag holding 100,000 US dollars for the private autopsy with no questions asked and no information leaving your brain cells." Ace smiled and held up a tan colored lady's money wallet that contained her cash fee for the quick autopsy in secret.

She accepted the small wallet that held 100-dollar bills that totaled 100,000 US dollars and slipped down into her hand bag, pulling out a single sheet of paper, wiggling in the air. "And you need to sign the permission slip for your private autopsy at 2,000 dollars that goes to the morgue office. I'm cheap and ease, today," she laughed with Ace. He signed the paper and handed back the item back to her. She spun around and led Ace through the parking lot with a serious face, approaching the long veranda that led into the entrance door and stopped, standing in the long line with the other people that needed to see a dead body or claim a dead body or un-claim a dead body.

Modern times created modern headaches for the family unit, the funeral parlor, the police department, and the dead person.

Once a human is deceased, it is the responsibility of the local coroner's office to keep the dead body, until the body is claimed. If an autopsy is required, the dead body is stored in a portable morgue trailer for a few days, until the Alabama Department of Forensic Sciences can complete the autopsy. Then, the dead body is claimed by a blood relative family member and is transported to the local funeral home for the location of the burial.

However, the newest death trend coming from one or more of the live and breathing family members is not to claim the dead body, because the family member cannot pay or will not pay or does not want the dead body. Thus, the dead body is stored here at the city morgue for weeks and months until the local judge can begin the process for disposition of the body. When the body is not claimed and it is determined that the body does not possess any monetary or financial assets, the county commission is required by law to pay for a cremation deposing of the unclaimed body. However, a cremation burial cannot be ordered, until the deceased human qualifies as an indigent person.

After ten minutes in the bright sunlight and then additional five minutes underneath the shaded veranda, Amalia and Ace stood inside the semi-dark but cool, silver metal hallway, without a glass window view of the bright sunlight or a piece of pretty or ugly art work for entertainment. The enclosed wall was glittery and cold-feeling from the heavy air current of cold air, like a horror castle. Each metal walls retained the cold refrigerated air molecules inside the building and around the decomposing deceased body better than a plaster wall, while damping the terrible death odor, somewhat.

They still stood in a long line, waiting their turn at the open window with the morgue clerk. The other visitors were cleared to venture inside the scary morgue environment or were turned away for some other reason. The line cleared. Amalia appeared first in front of the open window and slid the signed permission form to the morgue employee, saying out loud. "I am Dr. Amalia de la Rosa. I am here to autopsy Samuel Attila Smith. He had passed into heaven, this morning, in the ICU room at Mobile Hospital. His body had been delivered a few hours ago to the city morgue by permission of his married wife Magritte Smith and the attending medical physician named Kamius Feesher."

Behind the open window, the clerk sat the long desk and quickly typed on his desktop computer while slightly nodding several times, hearing the information, finding the data on the computer screen, without seeing Amalia. "I see the body here." He didn't look up and slid a single sheet of paper back to Amalia. "Please say out loud the motto of your medical station here at the City Morgue of Baldwin County, in the city of Mobile, within the US State of Alabama, promising to follow the creed."

She didn't need to pick up and read out the information on the sheet of paper, signing the black line, speaking out loud. "I do come here to accurately determine the cause and manner of death, of individuals that die within Baldwin County; through a fair, ethical, and competent investigation of death; performed by qualified and trained individuals, in accordance with the accepted medical logical death investigation that hold all professional to the death standards; ensuring the integrity of the investigation. I do come here to establish and maintain cooperative, professional relationships with law enforcement, funeral homes, and other community members. I do come here to assist the bereaved in the loss of a loved one or ones. I do come here to earn and hold the trust and respect of the citizens that we are privileged and honored to serve. I am here as Amalia de la Rosa, medical physician and a licensed medical pathologist with the State of Alabama," she handed the signed sheet of paper back to the clerk.

The clerk quickly typed on the computer and sung in harmony. "Hmm! Samuel Attila Smith has been processed through the probate judge's office already, this afternoon, before the court hall closed. Mr. Smith is scheduled for a cremation burial, tomorrow morning," he looked up and nodded to Amalia.

Ace gasped in alarm and spoke out of turn but demanded a reason. "Tomorrow is America's birthday party and a national holiday throughout the country, celebrating the Fourth of July. Will the city morgue cremate a body on a national holiday?"

The morgue clerk nodded with a smile at Ace, "The local cremator is a private company and obliges any deceased body, at any time, day or night with advanced payment."

Amalia frowned. "I am sorry here and I am confused, sir. A dead body is only cremated and paid by order from the probate judge's office, when the body is in a state of indigent care. Who determined the dead body's financial statue?" Ace gasped in shock at the new information.

The morgue clerk looked down and typed on the keyboard, reading out the information. "Hmm! The cremation order and the cash payment of five hundred dollars was approved and came from the probate judge's office. One of the law clerks has identified that deceased male Mr. Samuel Attila Smith was penniless, without owning a single asset to his given name. Thus, he was quickly processed and ordered for cremation burial by the local cremator, tomorrow afternoon. This is the holiday weekend. The cremator is processing all dead bodies through their furnace system very fast also. The employees wanna celebrate America's birthday too. We are open on the Fourth of July with a skeleton staff for the arrival of a dead body or two, but we will not be running normal operations either, until Monday morning, after the holiday weekend."

She turned and gasped at Ace. "Ace?"

Ace held up his hand and then reached down, patting the arm on Amalia, smiling at the morgue clerk. "Thank you for sharing all of your information with us. Is it still possible to determine the cause of death to my grandfather with an autopsy inside the morgue room, today, before he is burned not alive," he chuckled alone and lonely.

The morgue clerk gasped in doubt and then frowned. "Well, I guess so. You paid the city for an autopsy, unless you want the money check back."

Ace smiled. "No! You can keep the money check for the procedure. May we proceed ahead into the autopsy room, sir?"

The clerk pointed down the hallway with a smile. "Yes, follow the yellow line and enter the morgue reception, turning to the left, following a blue line into the last autopsy room. Every pathologist is here and trying to finish up their work before the holiday weekend too. Go and set up your personal equipment, Dr. Rosa. One of the morgue attendees will roll Mr. Smith into the last room for your examination, very shortly. You have less than one hour today. The morgue autopsy room closes at seven pm. Thank you and have a nice day!"

Ace gently shoved Amalia down the hallway and away from the window, cuddling her petite body with both protection and urgency, following the yellow tinted line on the floor, moving through a pair of automatic glass doors, turning to the side and followed a blue line down the entrance wall, where numerous open rooms contained the autopsy equipment pieces. He didn't bother to spy on any of the other room and leaned down, whispering over her hair roots. "The murderess had planned quickie cremation on a national holiday. This is unbelievable. The murderess is burning the body with all of the physical evidence, so I can't prosecute her ass for murder, and I am a legal criminal lawyer and a formal military judge."

She gasped in shock and continued to stroll with Ace. "What! What do you know? what do you have, Ace? Tell me! I can run and visit the district attorney's office before the six o'clock business hour and get the murderess arrested, in a few minutes. I am sorry about your granddaddy. He was a very special friend to me."

He sneered. "I don't have enough evidence. I am a trained criminal lawyer too. Anyways, the murderess is one step ahead of me. She is located at her legal home, right now, bleaching all of the evidence that I had found there, this afternoon. I believe in justice, but it is not coming for my granddaddy. However, I have numerous questions and I have called this quickie autopsy for the answers, before the body is burned."

"We can work together and burn her, instead, Ace."

He turned and entered the last autopsy room, smelling the cleaning sterile chemicals and the stench of death, pacing the floor with nervousness, angry and worry.

She padded to the side wall and placed her medical bag on top of the silver tinted metal work station, slowly pulling out her work equipment, pondering the murder of Attila. She felt both sad and angry that his life had ended violently under mysterious circumstances, making this autopsy personally. And his grandson knew the true identity of the murderess.

The four squeaky wheels signaled the arrival of the silver tinted kart along the quiet hallway. The morgue attendee wore a yellow tinted uniform with a matching face mask, pair of gloves, shoving the kart through the wide archway, parking in the middle of the sterile room with silver tinted walls that felt cold and creepy. He released the kart and nodded to the two peopled, spinning around, leaving the room for his next dead body.

Ace scooted sideways and stood beside the kart, staring down at the blue colored body, which was not his happy granddaddy's soul, only a fragile bio-shell that was slowly decomposing the human flesh, bones, and blood proteins. The soul of his granddaddy was living in the heavenly plane with confusion of death. Once his angel soul was healed, then his soul would check on his grandson Ace and his great-granddaughter Gem, watching over his two earthly kinfolks.

"Amen!" Ace whispered for his eardrums only and continued to stare down at the dead body of a dead human, without automatically holding both of his nose holes. The dead body gave off a distinctive, sickly, sweet-smelly odor that lingered inside your nose holes for 24 hours. The smell of death consists of 400 organic compounds drifting up from the dead body in the air, in your nose holes, and through a closed door.

Someone had closed both of the eyelids on the body. The eyelids naturally remain partially open after the death act due to muscle relaxation from the dead body which are called, eye caps. And the two eyeballs participate in the embalming process also which is similar to a dead royal pharaoh from the time of Ancient Egypt.

Ace recalled from all of his college courses, television entertainment programs, and his intense military training sessions. The human body slowly starts to decay the moment the heart organ stops beating its steady rhythm. The decay starts down at the cellular level as the human body is comprises of water and minerals like the earth soil. Each human cell starts to die and then bacteria and the body itself starts to digest all of the organs and tissues.

The bones, tendon, and outer skin can survive intact up to 12 hours. The brain cells are the first to decay faster than any other organ. If the dead body is restarted before three minutes of a clinical death act, for any reason, the gray matter needs some special treatment before the dead body becomes alive and breathing again.

Brain activity ceases when the heart organ stops pumping blood through the chambers. Within thirty seconds, after the death act, the live human brain releases out protective chemicals that trigger a surge of high brain activity on the medical computer screen which results in some intense hallucinations, at the death hour, for the human brain within the dead body, which is displayed on the man-made hospital equipment.

"Ace!" Amalia was standing on the opposite side of Ace working on the body, beginning the autopsy process. She wore a special pink tinted uniform over her business suit that collected germs, bone fragments, and blood cells, keeping her clothes and body clean.

"Yes," Ace broke from his daydream and as his two eyeballs darted back to the open in the throat. Amalia had sliced more of the throat skin and exposed more of the dried and pink tinted esophagus tissue. A small string of white tinted substance was dried on the tissues. She had moved down from the opening in the throat muscle and worked on the stomach lining, slicing through into the abdomen, exposing the organs. She held a tiny white-tinted, glossy, oval-shaped object in her gloved hands, frowning at the object with confusion, "What is this? I have seen some weird things coming out of a dead body. This is the tiniest foreign object in the world.

He cleared his throat from the bitter bile and wiped off both of his moist eyeballs, staring at the gelatin capsule. Amalia had found one of the gelatin capsules right where Ace had said in the stomach lining of Attila. He pointed at the object and said with a soft timber. "That is the tiniest detergent pod in the world. That tiny pod is comprised of white colored washer machine cleaning detergent with a tea tiny speckle of blue beach."

"How was it made, Ace?"

He reached down and pulled out the tiny bag of white detergent liquid with the contaminated ear stick and the second bag with the broken home-made gelatin capsule and the regular detergent pod, holding both of the bags near his frown. "The murderess used a little girl's fake jewelry machine and rolled out a tube of heated gelatin tablets into a gooey puddle and then pressed out two halves of one single capsule, like a piece of candy. She constructed a new deadly weapon inserting the regular liquid detergent from a broken pod and then wrapped detergent inside a single gelatin capsule. She placed a few of the gelatin capsules down into a sweaty tumbler of sweet tea. Then my granddaddy consumed the contaminated tea during a social party at my house."

She nodded with a stern face and continued to display the tiny gelatin capsule in the air. "When your grandfather swallowed the sweet tea, he sucked down this tiny pod into his esophagus that traveled directly down through his pharynx, which the opening for food consumption. Then Attila started coughing and then gagging out loud from one of the lodged capsules, slapping his throat muscles, falling down on the floor. He stopped gagging and started suffocating, becasue the pod was lodged in the pharynx, not passing down into the stomach lining."

He dropped the bags on the floor and waved both of his hands in the air. "Wait! Wait! Wait! Teens, they performed the silly pod challenge for fun, all the time and they swallowed one of these detergent pods, which is much bigger than that one in your hand. Why did the pod murder my granddaddy? That doesn't make any sense, Amalia."

She nodded. "Yes, a silly teen did that by consuming lots of water or another liquid with the detergent pod. The pod easily went completely down the esophagus and inside the stomach lining. Then, if the pod didn't vomit back up the esophagus lining and ejected from the mouth, the teen died when the stomach acid juices bust open the pod with toxins spilling all over the stomach. In your grandfather's medical case, the murderess constructed the pod to lodge, not dodge the stomach lining, since this tiny pod resembles a real detergent pod. If this tiny pod had been found by the nurse or the physician, then the murderess would be arrested and trial for murder. However, based on the tiny physical form, I do believe that the murderer wanted to shake and rattle your grandfather, when he was in the hospital bed and semi-conscious with her desires or dreams. However, she failed, and Attila consumed this pod which fell down inside the stomach lining. If this pod is intact, then he swallowed a second pod which exploded inside his stomach lining, immediately contaminating all of his organs and affected his brain cells, like a toxin poison. A true detergent pod is poison for a human, an animal, and the earth soil. I am so sorry, Ace. You were correct when you thought that your grandfather had consumed a foreign substance. His medical physician should have preformed a simple X-ray film clearly seeing a strange black object inside his stomach and then could have removed by inducing vomiting or through a simple surgery procedure. I don't believe that the murderess intended to murder your grandfather based on her quick knowledge and quicker react ordering a cremation burial for Attila. However, I am puzzled about his state of indigent status. That is incorrect. Someone in the probate judge's office make a grave mistake, ordering and paying for a cremation with a wealthy and respected native of Mobile. Why was that concluded here, by the probate judge's office, Ace? I don't understand, Ace. Do you know why?"

He nodded. "I think all of the previous steps had been executed quickly to avoid a future crime from a future criminal, who would qualify for the gas chamber in the capital city of Montgomery next month."

She sneered at Ace. "Who is this murderess, Ace? I wanna know."

He winked. "I cannot answer that one."

She fumed and dropped the gelatin capsule down into her uniform pocket for hiding, which was evidence of cold blooded murder on Attila. However, Ace handled the revenge of his loved ones, differently as the ancient gossip went. "So, I am in the dark here."

He smiled. "Yes. I really appreciate your help here. You have solved the murder case."

"I wanna..."

"No, I will handle this matter, personally."

She frowned. "So, I just stand in the dark."

He nodded. "Yes, you do. The news will not be published in the newspapers or on the internet, but it will happen."

She looked down and reached out touching the blue tinted arm on Attila. "There was no hope for saving Attila's life, after he had consumed one or two of those tiny pods. But, the person, who cut a hole in Attila's throat, should receive a parade. He saved Attila and must have found that extra pod which dropped out from his throat on the floor. That person needs to study and become a physician, saving more lives.

He nodded. "I know that person and I should tell that person that a brilliant pathologist recommended the person go to medical school. Why do you do this, Amalia?"

she looked up and winked to Ace. "I like to help dead people."

He smiled. "All right! You landed in the right field of medicine. Now, I must go. Thanks for everything, Amalia! I really appreciate your smart brains and your dry deadly sense of humor. Am is supposed to do something, before I exit this room and this building, leaving you alone with the dead?"

"Tell me the murderess!"

"No."

She huffed in annoyance and then smiled at Ace. "Then, the answer is no. Enjoy your evening! I'll wrap up and sign out from my completed autopsy. However, will the murderess find and kill me, too, Ace?"

"Never!" He winked with a smile and looked down at the dead body. "Hey, dead body! You stink and you are not my granddaddy. He is in heaven and watching over me. So, good riddance and enjoy your quick burning." Ace scooted sideways with laughter and moved ahead, exiting the autopsy room, leaving the building. He drove back home while pondering his nice life with his future wife and his biological daughter. He had been angry and mad about the death of his granddaddy, but he always believed in the cycle of life and death. The death act was the mysterious of one's fate.

Magritte had murdered his granddaddy. Now, her cycle of life and death was about to end also.

Life is still a mystery." He arrived home to find console his two upset girls, softly explaining the fact of death, until the two females fell asleep in-between his body on top of the long sofa. He didn't realize a young teenager and a young adult could cry so much rolling wet tears that soaked two short-sleeved tee shirts and both of his biceps. He left them only to piss and shit once while changing his wet clothes, wearing a pair of ratty walking shorts, and a pair of bare feet.

He toted each female up the staircase and down into their personal bed mattress for a restful evening of grieve and sorrow. Ace exhaled with worry for his two girls, after slowly climbing back down, landing on top of the first floor, accepting the death of his grandfather.

No human lives forever, which is Almighty God's rule, not a human rule.

However, Ace believed that each human served a purpose here on the planet. His grandfather lived a long, happy life and influenced many people, including his own grandson. He left his two girls, who he loved very much and strolled into the kitchen consuming a midnight snack with a hunger stomach. No matter his disposition of life or death or happy or sad or man or joy, his stomach needed attention. He finished the snack and left the mess for the bonded, licensed, and paid house staff that would come on Friday morning and clean before the late afternoon bridal shower.

He moaned. "The bridal shower, can I really face all of these people and act happy about my upcoming event, without my granddaddy and my nasty step-grandmother," Ace performed a soft evil laugh and slid off the high stool, spinning around from the high bar, yawning with sleep. He moseyed through the kitchen, the living room, and climbed the staircase, sliding down into bed with Fawn, who was sound asleep, but wore a red-tinted slightly swollen face from all of her sad crying.

Tomorrow is another day as quoted from pretend girl Scarlett O'Hara in the fictional book entitled _Gone with the Wind._

Ace thought Scarlett was a spoiled brat and then a selfish owner and finally a bitch looking after her own interests sacrificing others that got in her way. But she learned and lived through the terrible Civil War in the book. Thus, his two females were learning that life sucked, sometimes, and you needed to make an ice cold pitcher of sweet lemonade getting through the bumps of the day and the night.
Thursday, July 4th

America's birthday

Attila's Hut

Master bedroom setting

06:04 am

In the summer, the sunrise rays rose at 6:04 am. Ace had awoken before sunrise and stared in the darkness of the bedroom, while pondering an active day with a set of deadly and happy results by evening. He wiggled side to side in eagerness, anxiousness, and anticipation, sliding side to side and then rolled off the bed mattress, standing upright on the floor, smiling down at a sleeping Fawn.

Ace loves her so much and can't wait to marry her, spending the rest of his days and nights with her, traveling around the world, watching his teenage daughter grow into an adult.

On top of the wooden floor, beside the bed mattress, Ace reached down on the night stand surface and grabbed his personal mobile telephone, checking for any new text messages, without seeing one. He exhaled with nervousness and scooted around the bed frame, padding into the large closet room, gathering clothes, exiting the closet space and left the bedroom suit. He slowly climbed down each step while pondering the upcoming planned daily events. He had a minor role in the upcoming event but couldn't sit still to enjoy the moment. His two girls were still asleep and then would awaken recalling the death of Samuel Attila Smith, Junior and then still sobbing with hot tears of sorrow again.

He stopped on top of the floor and dressed in a sky blue tinted, short-sleeved tee shirt, a pair of tan colored walking shorts, and a pair of naked feet, pocketing the phone down into one of the trousers pockets, slowly shuffling into the kitchen and then stopped in front of the food pantry. He reached inside and pulled out a jar of peanut butter, a stack of crackers, shifting to the refrigerator, grabbing the milk jug, taking all of the items towards the high bar. He prepared thick globs of peanut butter over the bottom of each cracker, crowning the creation with a single, gently smashing the brown tinted together for a juicy delight. He ate three of his delight creations and then chugged milk from the jar mouth as sweet milk only was consumed by Ace. Gem and Fawn sipped on cups of fat free milk.

He ate until his flat stomach lining was lifted and filled with food, sliding off the high bar stool, spinning around, padding to the wash sink and washed his dirty hands with soap and water, drying them on the cloth kitchen towel. He dropped the used towel on top of the countertop.

Ace felt restless and wanted to do something, but he didn't know what to do or say or act or invent. He wasn't interested in watching any television program or reading the electronic world news or reading a hard copy book or playing a fun game on the stationary game machine inside the den room. He greatly desired to leave his home and visit Magritte, who slept alone inside the mansion last night, while the dead body of his grandfather slept inside the morgue building on Government Street. Magritte had not called to inform Ace that his grandfather was being burning up in a cremator furnace burial today either. No matter, Ace had accessed the electronic agenda on the internet web page for the local cremator and find out the burning time was scheduled at seven am sharp, so the workers from the cremator could enjoy the Fourth of July holiday festivals and celebration of America's continuous birthday.

At 06:54 am, he growled in fury and paced around the wooden floor, looking for a pair of flip-flops, finding the items, slipping over each naked foot, balling up both of his hands in angry. He was going to go and visit Magritte, breaking down the front door, finding her sleepy body and then strangled the woman. Then he would figure out what to do with the dead body next. He exited the house through the kitchen door really quietly and slipped outside, sneaking around his own house, padding to the front facade and entered his pickup truck. He never locked his pickup truck and kept the fog key inside the cab along with his wallet. If a robber tried to enter his truck or steal his possession, he or she would see the wrong end of a cold barrel from his hand gun and then peacefully sleep until the Second Coming of Jesus Christ. Amen!

He wiggled down in the driver's seat and pressed the gasoline pedal without touching the ignition button, pondering his silly move. He whispered. "Yeah, she knows the color and design of my personal pickup truck. I can't drive my truck to her house, then she will flee from my nimble finger bones and escape into the wilderness. I don't wanna chase her ass into the woodlands. So, I need another transport. Yeah, I know," he exited the truck and dashed ahead towards the side wall on his house, displaying a row of six individual white tinted garage doors, entering the side door with a smile, strutting into the garage space and stopped beside a red-tinted motorcycle. He reached down and patted the motorcycle, "Yeah, this will work nicely. I haven't ridden this baby in months, but a true biker doesn't forget." He slid over the tan colored seat and pressed the gears, placing the wheels in neutral. He didn't want the loud racket of the metal gears on an opening the garage door and then loud roar from his motorcycle to awaken his two princesses. They needed their slumber until it was time for the cremator funeral at eight o'clock, this morning.

He slid off the seat and slowly rolled the machine over the smooth garage floor, through the open side door, over the manicured grass, and stopped near the driveway. He parked the bike and checked the tires, the gears, and the gas tank, like the driver's manual instructed before a biker trip around the corner or into the horizon. The tires were inflated. The gears worked and the tank held smelly gasoline.

He frowned. "Now, that's a scary thought. The gas tank still holds a metal compartment of flammable substance near my living room setting in 100 degree heat." Ace didn't bother bringing his wallet with his valid photo driver's license identification. He didn't want to leave evidence for the true murderess as a false murderer. He started to roll the motorcycle over the driveway and away from the front of the house, strolling several yards from the edge of the manicured lawn, without perturbing the peaceful heated morning, and then stopped the march. He wiped sweat off his brow and sucked down the motorcycle helmet over his bone skull, which as a state law and a great disguise. He laughed out loud. "Sir, the murderer wore a motorcycle helmet." Ace chuckled again and slid over the seat, cranking the cold engine, hearing the roar of power, letting the engine warm for a few seconds. He wiggled side to side getting comfortable on the seat and pressed the handle bars, getting familiar with the cockpit of the machine.

At 07:16 am, he slowly steered ahead in the peacefully morning like an old man, instead of an arrogant teenager. Attila's mansion was one mile or 5,280 feet from the front porch on Ace's house, so Ace would arrive at the next residential driveway in four minutes or less at ten miles-per-hour. Ace laughed out loud with his greatest accomplishment, the murder of a murderess.

Four minutes later, at 07:20 am, in the blistering day of sunlight, Ace slowly steered the loud muffin on the red tinted motorcycle closer to the concrete driveway at Attila's mansion and then gasped in shock inside the enclosed motorcycle helmet while spying on Magritte.

At the edge of the concrete slab, in the short patch of green weeds, a tall, slender male squatted down on the ground, pounding a sign down into the brown dirt. Ace continued to drive at a steady pace like one of the nice neighbor adults, who sometimes used the Ansley Lane roadway to access Chelsea Lane visiting friends or family members. The sign displayed in big bold letters: For Sale by Owner.

Ace gagged in alarm inside the comfort of the helmet and released the handle pedal, slightly slowing his pacing speed on the bike, waving his free hand to the male and then Magritte. She stood a few feet from the squatted male and waved both of her arms in the air while instructing the male with the sign exhibition.

Magritte was selling the mansion, without reading the Last Will and Testimony document from the lawyer on Monday morning. However, Ace was still shocked and surprised with the understanding that Magritte had created a fake Last Will and Testimony document with a forged signature from a deceased Samuel Attila Smith, in order, to collect all of the bank account monies and the land properties, which was worth millions of dollars, US.

However, the true Last Will and Testimony was housed in a secret tiny drawer on the bottom of one of the two metal filing cabinets inside the den room of Attila's mansion.

On top of the ugly concrete driveway, in front of the grand manor, Magritte wore a lovely peach tinted ankle-length dress, a pair of matching short sandals, and a matching floppy hat that covered her wrinkled pale-colored face and golden colored hair strands, returning her hand wave with a nod and a smile back to the nice biker, who obeyed the speed limit and lived somewhere between _Chelsea Drive_ on the eastern side of the _Ansley Lane_ roadway and the western side of a different city street named _Tudor Lane._

Ace was the only other occupant in the other residential house that lived on _Ansley Lane_ and he was home with his future bride and his biological daughter in the bed, sleeping through the Fourth of July celebrations. Ace never participated in any fun social event given by the Mobilian society of gentle belles and gentlemen, preferring to work like a slave and play like a redneck.

Magritte dropped her hand and her smile, huffing in annoyance of the heated day. She hoped that some person would be interested in buying the mansion, really soon, maybe today, if she could get lucky. Then, she would leave the seaport of Mobile and purchase a smaller house in the town of Coral Gables in the southern part of US State of Florida, getting away from the snobby southern belles and bossy southern gentlemen, leading a solitary life, without seeing Ace or any of his kinfolks again.

Ace continued to steer the motorcycle and dropped his naked hand back onto the handler bar, like one of the conservative mannerly neighbors, who was gently riding around the neighborhood on a blistering heated day for some peace and cool air waves. He continued to drive around the curvy roadway, alone and without other traffic vehicles, hitting Chelsea Drive. He continued down the roadway at a safe speed and pondered the new information within his active mind.

Magritte was selling the manor. Ace didn't know the money amount or the recent house market situation regarding home buyers. The house was paid, without a mortgage note or a bank lien on the land and wilderness property, so Magritte would receive all of the monies minus the broker's fee and the lawyer's fee. Ace could not allow that to happen and pondered a new plot to stop Magritte, safely driving on Chelsea Drive, reaching the opposite end of the city street and then spotted one of the numerous fast-food restaurants, slowly pulling into the parking lot. He parked the motorcycle and killed the engine, slipping off the helmet, feeling the windy breeze over his sweaty face. He pondered his next move and whispered for his eardrums only, watching the traffic and the people. "She can't sale the house; the real estate doesn't belong to her. The house belongs to me. What to do? What is my next move? Well, she is looking for a buyer. I should go back and offer a bag of cash money for the house. No! I own the house anyways. She is the murderess and cannot get away with the vicious crime of murdering my grandfather. What to do? What to do?" He wiped off the sweat and nodded with an evil laugh, whipping out his personal mobile telephone, lifting the device into his sweaty face. He waited and heard the connection, hearing the sweet voice. "Hey, sweetheart! Do you wanna murder someone for me?"

He laughed and listened to the response from the female voice on the other end of the private, hopefully, not recorded by the US Federal Government, telephone call. He smiled. "I'm joking. I'm kidding. But, do you wanna buy a 180-year-old antebellum house?" He listened to the words on the other end of the connection from the female and then laughed out loud. "I thought so, too. Go and get stacks of 500-dollar bills totaling five million dollars, US, from my secret bank account." He laughed at her response over the phone lines. "How many 500-dollar bills comprises five million dollars, US? Well, the math number of five million divided by the math number of five hundred equals 10,000. So, your answer is 10,000 individual 500-dollar bills. So, bring a big money bag! Get the money and then go to _6668 Ansley Lane_." He smiled. "Yes, that is Attila's old house. Magritte is selling the property against my will. No, she can't really do that. But that's where you come into the program. Go and rent a limousine and dress like a lady redneck with no class or manners but ditch the cussing and the bubble gum. A lady does not cuss or chew bubble chew. You can act out the rest of your pretend girly character that way you want. Then you and your pretend ego go and buy that house for cash money from Magritte." He laughed out loud while hearing the reply from the female. "I agree. But she will sell that house for a bag of cold hard cash money. I promise. But, go to house later in the afternoon, right before suppertime meal, so she is drooling her mouth salvia over the bag of cool cash money. Then, buy the house and watch her leave inside her limousine." He laughed out loud from her new remarks. "That's a brilliant plan. Do it, too it! Can you have the house? Did you ask me that question? No! That's my house. Anyways, you are moving out into the county with your stray canines and cats. What am I going to do with two houses? I don't know. I will ponder that issue later, after Gritty has gone literally, from my life and the earth plane. I have contacted God already. He is ready for her. Get going! I'll see you later in the evening also. How is the first plot working out?" He smiled while listening to her words. "You're the best. I love you, too. This will be our last hurray! Good luck, Ikko!" He dropped the phone and smiled with his new plan, starting the engine, steering out from the parking lot, pacing back down _Chelsea Lane_ to his own house, without any suspicious from Magritte with his second brilliant plan.

The daylight hours and heated day would make for a long time period for an eager, anxious, and nervous Ace, who only knew the final outcome. He would go back home and comfort his two princesses while mentally preparing for planned cremation funeral of his deceased grandfather. He was feeling alone and lonely with a heavy heart and a mind of empty thoughts, already missing his warm and happy granddaddy's presence here on Planet Earth and inside his house.

Death is a permanent thing, until the next reincarnation cycle.

Ace believes in the concept of reincarnation. A person lives down here on the earth plane as a good or bad human and then dies as a good or bad human. The Soul is pure and light, not harm and evil. The Soul leaves the human bio-shell and ascends into the heavenly plane and visits with all of the other old and new souls having a good time inside heaven. Then the Soul accepts a new human assignment from the Prime Creator coming back down to the earth plane for another round of fun or lousy time. The cycle is repeated and rinsed, until the Prime Creator finally decides the fate of all of his children here on the planet.

Ace does not know what the timeline is. He only wants to participate and help other humans, including some of the aliens, if they desire peace and joy.

At 07:48 am, among the bright sunlight, the motorcycle was the only vehicle on the roadway, curving the street, riding steadily on _Ansley Lane_ , viewing the house and then the sign. magritte was not presence outside. but her rented tan colored limousine was parked at the front porch, so she was home waiting for a buyer to purchase the house. Ace was not really worried about a true buyer for the ancient mansion. A large money transaction took days, not minutes and the buyer would want inspections on the house. Thus, Magritte would never sell the mansion during a holiday weekend. Every citizen in the USA was at home grilling hamburgers and hotdogs or at the ocean beach swimming in the warm waters of the Gulf of Mexico or sleeping late in their bed matter with their day off while celebrating America's birthday their way.

At 07:52, Ace stopped several yards from his manicured lawn and killed the engine, sliding off the sweaty seat, rolling the dead motorcycle back into the shaded garage building, parking the bike. He dusted off the dirt and sweat, walking through the garage space, entering back into the kitchen and then halted. The current time was close to eighth o'clock in the morning and the house was still quiet, without the noisy sobs from the two women or the rustling noises from the same two women. He exhaled with worry and slowly moved ahead, slapping his flip-flop onto each wooden step, needing to awaken the two sleeping princesses for the upcoming road trip to the local cremator building at nine o'clock, this morning, seeing a long, rectangular-shaped, lightweight, paper-coated cardboard which held his deceased granddaddy's fleshy dried body. Then, they would all wait the box burn while feeling really shitty for the rest of the day.

Suppertime has a specific time of purpose both within the Old and New South era. The eating event is the period of the daylight hours, when a southern family eats their meal together, at the dining room table, which is the late part of the afternoon at four pm or the early part of the evening at 5pm. Historically, the first recorded event of suppertime occurred in the year 1325 AD. Suppertime comes from Middle English word, soper tyme.

Eight hours later, which was the equivalent of a work day for the worker, at 04:04 pm, among the bright sunlight of a blistering heated day, a shiny clean silver-tinted limousine drove by the three-story mansion on _Ansley Lane_ , without stopping, steering over _Chelsea Lane_. Then, at 04:07 pm, after using a private circular driveway on another residential house, slowly spinning around, driving back on _Chelsea Lane_ , the same limousine steered down Ansley Lane, slowing the speed, pulling onto a solid concrete driveway and parked directly in front of the six concrete steps that led onto a front porch with four massive columns, without a shaded veranda, but displayed a for sale sign that stabbed the brown dirt even with the city street pavement.

The driver of the limousine did not kill the engine but kept the motor running in the heated day, blowing out cold air from the six car vents into the enclosed cab and rear compartment. He opened the door and slid onto the driveway surface, scooting ahead, and then stopped, opening the rear compartment door. A tall, slender young adult female stored her hand gun down inside the secret compartment on the floor board for safety, shuffling from the center of the seat, sliding off a white colored bench and stood on top of the concrete driveway, examining the grand house with a smile, wearing a pair of cut-off blue jeans, a pair of pink and white cowgirl boots, a pink tinted sleeveless blouse with a column of cute tiny bows, a white tinted belt with a silver tinted rodeo buckle, and a pink tinted floppy hat that covered her red tinted hair strands, and a pair of green tinted irises. She removed a pair of sunglasses and them the item down onto the bench seat, dangling a white tinted bag from her collar bone, marching ahead and stomped each concrete step in rhythm. She stopped in front of the magnificent set of double doors in dark green metal hue. She reached over and pressed the door bell that chimed a manly baritone bong as the metal door material would chap her naked knuckles. She leaned an eardrum onto the warm metal door, not hearing any loud commotion sounds inside the foyer setting, which was a good sign. The house was well-built for a living human with or without the she-ghosts.

A few moments later, one of the grand metal doors swung open and revealed a sour face on an elderly woman, wearing a peach-tinted long dress with a pair of matching low-heeled sandals.

The young adult female greeted first and waved both of her arms in the air. "Howdy do! Are you the misses of the mansion? My name is Marigold Joy, not Jo. I am Marigold Joy. I saw your sign. I'm here in town looking for a grand mansion."

Magritte continued to stare with a stern face at the young adult, who was dressed like a crop farmer's daughter and spoke with a true hillbilly accent. She cleared her throat. "Yes, my house is ready for a market purchase."

"How much is the grand place? I used to live, well, I'm from a small town of Brewton, Alabama. Do you know where the small town of Brewton, Alabama is?"

Magritte faked a smile. "No, I do not."

"Well, that don't matter. Well, my daddy and my mama and me owns a chicken farm up there."

Magritte exhaled with annoyance. "You reside on a poultry farm"

She nodded with a smile and whipped the heavy shoulder bag from her collar bone, dropping down on top of the front porch surface. "Our little chicken farm started out small and then all of these businesses wanted fresh chicken meat. We sell to all the food business our fresh chicken meat. Do you like chicken? I like to eat chicken, even thou they torment and then chop off..."

"Yes, I enjoy a poultry meal also. Are you really interested in purchasing a house, today, young miss?"

She nodded with a smile. "Yeah, I wanna buy a true anti-belle house like I saw in Hollywood movie film called Gone with the Windy. Back in Brewton, we don't have anti-belle houses, like this one. I have dreamed all of my life to live like Scarlet O'Hara."

Magritte frowned. "She is a fictional character."

"And I have dreamed all of my live to live in an anti-belle house, like Tara."

Magritte continued to sneer. "That house is a fictional character too."

She nodded her bone skull several times and slowly spun around, viewing the driveway, completing the circle and smiled at Magritte. "Well, I have found my Tara."

Magritte exhaled with annoyance. "If you are really interested in purchasing the house, the purchase price is..."

She winked. "I got a bag of cash. My daddy and my mama don't believe in credit cards or checks or electronic checks. I got a bag of cash only. Is that okay to buy a house with cash, ma'am?"

Magritte exhaled with frustration. "Cash is an acceptable means for purchasing a house. This house is priced at ..."

"I got five million dollars, US, inside my bag, down here at my booted feet," she smiled and kicked the designer bag with the money. "The bills are in stack of 500-hundred dollar bills too. There are 10,000 bills that show the math number of 500. Ain't that a hoot! The bank took four hours to get me my bag of cash money."

Magritte gasped in shock and held her wrinkled throat, clearing her throat, displaying an evil grin to the young hillbilly female. "Well, that is quite amazing. And that is so wonderful. My house is priced at five million dollars, US. Isn't convenient for you and me, today, right here and right now, on this lovely street?"

She frowned and then nodded several times with a grin. "Well, I guess so. I got five million dollars, US. You want the five million dollars, US. So, what do I do next?"

"Come right inside my house, young lady!" Magritte scooted backwards and opened the door wider, allowing heated air into the foyer, spinning around to face the center table. On top of the table, the flower arrangement had been replaced with a short stack of papers in white hue. She shuffled ahead and scooted around the edge, stopping on the opposite side, lifting up the first page on the stack of papers. She waved the form in the air and explained with a smile."This is a bill of sale, which is a funny word for buying an asset."

She picked up the heavy bag of money, followed the back spine on the old woman and then stopped, in front of the table, dropping the bag down on the floor, scanning the contents. She looked up and frowned at Magritte. "Huh!"

Magritte smiled. "This single sheet of paper tells that you wanna buy this house, from me, and I wanna sell this house, to you." Magritte handed the female the form and smiled. "You print and sign your name and the date on the black tinted line on the bottom first. Then, I print and sign my name and the today's date on the second black line on the bottom next. Then, you give me the bag of money and you are the owner of this house. That's it!"

She frowned. "That's it! I only sign my name on this form ..."

"... plus, hand over the bag of five million dollars, U.S. We need to sign two forms. One form is for you and the second form is for me." She reached down and grabbed a second form, lifting up the ink pen, signing the correct line and waved the form near her smile while nodding to the silly, young and naive farm girl. She handed two forms to the young adult with a southern belle giggle.

Marigold Joy giggled with silliness and bounced up and down, leaning down, grabbing one of the blue-tinted ink pens, signing both of the forms on the other black tinted line her name: Marigold Joy. She dropped the pen and handed the two forms back to Magritte.

Magritte accepted the two forms and signed the other form, handing on the completed forms to the female, smiling with happiness. "The house transaction is complete. That form tells that you now own the house. And I am leaving immediately your house with the cash bag. You can move inside your house, at any time, even today, if that is possible for you. I have already removed all of my personal possessions from the house. O! By the way, you can have all of the interior furniture settings and all of the furnishings which comes with the house. I do not need a piece of furniture, where I am going. On this center table, there is a small white tinted paper pouch with a set of house keys. Right now, the house is locked except for the front door. I will leave you and your house and take the bag of cash. Tat! Tat!" Magritte kept one of the forms with both of the legal signatures, in case of a legal incident regarding the estate sale of the house, if Ace was curious or nosy about the real estate transaction. Magritte was not a fool. Ace was a licensed lawyer and currently a military judge with plenty of law, legal, and police experience, that could see their illegal act and connect the local law authorities for any type of illegal or criminal action.

She scooted around the edge of the table with a smile, stopped, and then squatted down, grabbing the strap on the bag of cash, gasping in breathes. "O dear! This bag is heavy!"

Marigold Joy folded the bill of sale and placed down into the side pocket on her left cowgirl boot, reaching out, grabbing the handle on the heavy bag. "Let me get that for you, Miss Magritte. You're a frail thing. I'm a strong cowgirl," she lifted up the bag and smiled at Magritte. "Where are you going with this bag?"

Magritte slowly stood upright and heard a set of popping bones from her elderly body, exhaling with annoyance of her advanced years, pointing at the front door, which was still open. She slowly moved ahead of the young female and explained her next move while flopping the peach tinted floppy hat over her shiny golden hair roots, covering both of her sensitive eyeballs with a pair of dark sunglasses. "Thank you so much! I am leaving right now and moving to the side shed that holds my limousine. If you can place that heavy bag on top of the hard shed floor, my driver will take it and place it inside the trunk." She exited the house and slowly moved down each concrete step that rattled her teeth and her bones, cursing the heated weather and the hard pavement on her tender feet. She didn't understand why her dear departed Attila didn't build a garage building beside the house. He possessed enough monies for the building.

She slowly padded across the hard pavement and entered the tiny shed, seeing her rented limousine with the engine running and the cool air-conditioning working inside the compartment. She stopped beside the rear door waiting on the driver.

Marigold Joy followed Magritte out from the house and locked the front door with the door key, moving down the steps towards the tiny shed and then stopped, standing beside the opposite rear door, reaching out, opening the heavy door. She dropped the bag of money on the floor mat and then looked up, turning to wink at the chauffeur. "Hi there, Mr. Chauffeur. I'm Marigold Joy. I'm dropping off the luggage for Miss Magritte. Have a nice day, now!" She stood upright from the bench seat and turned with a smile, nodding to Magritte, who continued to face yard and the house. She shouted out loud and waved her hand, "Well, that ends our business transaction for the day, Miss Magritte. You have a new...nice life now." She spun around and slowly exited the tiny shed, leaving the running limousine and Magritte. The driver slowly scooted out from the driver's seat and leaned over, opening the rear door for its owner.

Wearing her floppy hat and her pair of sunglasses, she sneered at the rear skull on her driver. "I am the owner here, not you. Next time, you hustle your ass faster for me. Else, I'll be paying another driver to tarry me around the town." The driver only nodded in silence standing upright and watched Magritte.

She slid down into the bench seat with a loud huff of annoyance, getting wet in her nice dress, sliding into the middle of the compartment seat. The chauffeur closed the heavy door and then returned back into the driver's seat, slowly reversing the transportation, leaving the home driveway and the house, steering down _Ansley Lane_ , disappearing into the bright sunlight rays.

Marigold Joy raced ahead with joy and slid down into the open door, scooting into the middle of the bench seat, placing an arm around the tall male. "Well, we did it, Julius! Now, we all are going to the hospital. Ain't that right, Dr. Sam?" She leaned over and patted the arm on Sam Germer, who was sitting in the center of the bench set and securely tied with a set of soft cloths, without harm, restricting all of his arm and leg movements from escaping the car and running away from Ikko and Julius.

Julius was the pretend chauffeur and slowly steered the rented limousine off the concrete driveway of Attila's manor, wearing with a smile in silent, heading down _Ansley Lane_ towards Mobile Hospital.
Same day, same city, different time....

Mobile Hospital location

Heated air temperature with bright sunlight

No rain clouds. No snow clouds.

Cloud cover 2 percent

Wind at 3 mph from SW

Visibility 10 miles

Fourth floor setting

Operating room suite number seven

The late afternoon was filled with joyous American citizens throughout the country enjoying the heated water at the pool, the back yard barbecues, the natural waves at the local ocean beach, not standing inside an ice cold enclosed operating suite at the Mobile Hospital campus.

Thirty minutes later, at 04:58 pm, Ace stood in the center of an ice cold operating suite on the fourth floor of the Mobile Hospital, which killed all of the deadly air-borne germs. The suite displayed four dull-looking walls with pale-blue tinted paint, within a huge square-shaped space.

Before arriving here at the cold operating room, Ace had kissed the forehead on his daughter and escorted her to a rented limousine, whisking her back to the city of Orange Beach for celebrating the rest of the Fourth of July holiday. Ace wanted Gem happy, not sad. Her high school friends were there with a set of very responsible parents ensuring safety for the teens, providing a cheery atmosphere for Gem, instead of mopping around the house in tears for her deceased great-grandfather Smith.

On top of the white tinted tile floor, Ace wore a set of surgical clothes in yellow hue, consisting of a body gown and a pair of foot booties over his regular clothes, staring with deep worry at a single upright metal chair in dull silver hue that resembled a dentist's chair, but not really.

The metal chair was surrounded by a circular metal stand with numerous pieces of hospital medical equipment pieces and medical supplies, such like, bandages, needles, scalpels, probes, and cotton pads. The head rest was slightly tilted for a dentist examination, but not really. The upright operating chair resided underneath a row of bright lamps with a creepy a robotic machine of numerous metal arms dangling over a yellow tinted surgery cap that covered the unconscious medical patient.

Fawn had been sedated at her home by Ace, without knowledge of the upcoming throat surgery procedure inside one of the empty operating suites on her pair of fibrosis-coated voice folds, protecting her sensitive emotions, if the medical procedure failed. Then, she would experience only sore throat symptoms, like the common cold, not another broken heart of failure.

The closed door on the same operating suit opened and revealed a tall, slender male, who wore a set of yellow tinted surgery gears including the hair cap, the face mask, the hand gloves, the body gown, and the feet booties that protected his street clothes and Fawn from her germs, blood splatters, and other bodily fluids during upcoming major surgical procedure. He stopped and stood a few feet from Ace, sneering at the unknown male. "I am here..."

"...to fix her voice folds. I know about you, Dr. Sam. You are the talented surgeon. She is the willing patient. You do your thing and fix her vocal folds. Then you can leave in peace and harmony, once your medical job is done." Ace spoke and stared at his girl Fawn with extreme worry. He had been talked into allowing a hostile medical physician to use a dangerous laser tool and operate on Fawn. But this was her only chance at regaining her natural voice. The procedure was relatively harmless. The results were extremely valuable. Another physician could perform the same medical procedure, if Ace could find another talented surgeon to perform a delicate operation here in the great State of Alabama or another State or in another country.

Directly behind Sam, a tall, slender female, with a head of red tinted hair, a pair of green tinted irises, and a tone of pink skin, wore a pale blue tinted surgery gown and head, face, and hand gear also, pointing the cold barrel of her personal hand gun at his back spine, threatening a bloody death act, if the talented physician disobeyed Ace's orders. The female was named Ikko and one of Ace's Resources.

A few feet back from a stationary Ikko, a tall, muscular male was disguised in a duplicate pale-blue surgical gear that covered his entire face and body also and entered the open door, strutting ahead towards the back spine on Ikko, stopped and stood beside Ikko, pulling out his personal hand gun. He pointed the cold barrel at the back spine on Sam Germer MD watching the talented physician, in silence. His name was Streg, who was another highly paid and private Resource for Ace.

From the open archway, an elderly woman moved there the doorway and wore a yellow tinted set of surgical gear that matched Sam Germer MD, displaying a black tinted blindfold over both of her eyeballs and a pair of soft binders on her pair of twisted wrist bones which rested behind her back spine. A tall, extremely large male slowly shoved the elderly woman into the operating suite room and wore a pale-blue tinted set of surgical gear that matched the scrub gear of Ikko and Streg. He gently guided the elderly woman with the blindfold towards a single chair bright blue metal with a padded cushion for her ass. She sat down and huffed in annoyance, wiggling he ass into the thin cushion, hearing the voice of the familiar person, Ace Smith.

In the middle of the operating room suite, Ace continued to stand and stared at his girl Fawn. Fawn wore a long pale blue tinted hospital gown underneath a pile of white tinted warm blankets over her stationary body. Her head was tilted backwards and rested on a large cushion. Her mouth was propped open, where dripping wet streams from her drooling saliva flowed down her jaw line and hit her chest and as she was ready for the upcoming operation.

Ace pointed at Fawn. "Are we ready, Ikko?"

Ikko shoved the back spine on Sam and shuffled both of them towards dentist-like operating chair, stopping beside metal stand. She said. "Yes, we are ready, Ace."

Sam sneered at the patient, not Ace. "Now, I know your name, Ace. I am going to leave here and contact the Mobile FBI and police force tattling my kidnapping tale and arrest you and all of your friends, including this young lady, who is really a victim here."

Ikko laughed out loud and then smiled inside the face mask. "Dr. Sam, please do not threaten another innocent party. Now, I would like to explain the condition of your patient. She is sedated and posed for the laser surgery procedure. Her mouth has been propped open and will not move for the surgery. The laser beam machine is ready, and the arm is located on the robotic machine above your covered hair roots for your surgery procedure. On your right side, there is a still X-ray film of her coated voice folds, in 3D for review. On the left side, the monitor screen is live and displays the interior of esophagus walls within her throat. There is a tiny camera that is mounted on her tongue fold, which is stationary, that will record your laser treatment. Even I can see the coated hardened liquid on her voice folds. But, of course, I am not the lead surgeon. As you start to stream the laser beam, her hardened coating will turn into a gaseous puff of tiny steam of wet particles and drift out from her mouth, into your eyeballs. Thus, here is a special pair of eye glasses with a tiny pair of windshield wipers. Just say. I will press the remote control button on the table slot and start up the tiny pair of windshield wipers over each smooth glass lenses for you to see and finish the surgery. We are ready. You can start at your convenience. We have the operating suite, until midnight," she softly giggled. "I estimate the surgery operation will take..."

Sam turned and sneered at Ikko. "If you know all the steps, then you perform the surgery procedure, young miss. I am here against my will. I will not help here. I will not perform the medical procedure. I refuse. Now, what are you going to do, to me, Mr. Ace? Kill me! Are you going to murder me in cold blood in front of your friends, because that is the only solution here for me? I refuse to help you or you or you or you or you or you."

Ace laughed out loud and spun around from the operating chair, studying the elderly woman in the padded chair. "Gritty, welcome to the Ice Age. You are located inside an ice cold operating surgery suite of local hospital, if you didn't guess your chilly location already. However, you are not going into surgery. You are going into the grave, six feet deep, and three feet wide, living the rest of your days with the maggots, worms, and cockroaches. I brought you here, well, I didn't bring you here. I guess you were shocked when you were locked inside that limousine and couldn't open the door. Because, that is my personal limousine with locks on the outside the rear doors for capturing a cold-blooded murderess. I know that you know that you murdered my granddaddy. Because I know that you didn't know that I found one of your newly created gelatin capsules. That particular gelatin capsule fell out from his throat opening during his emergency tracheotomy on the patio floor, at my house. And I also found a tiny wet sample of detergent mixtures around the shower drain of the stall, where you had poured the substance down the shower floor and the same lavatory spot, where you had closed off the single air conditioning vent to produce a sterile environment, making your deadly gelatin capsules for my granddaddy. Yup! I have all of the physical smelly and wet evidence too, coming from my granddaddy's house. So, I found you guilty of cold-blooded murder and I also sentence you to death by my hand, but your death act will not be performed here." Magritte was tied, blindfolded, and gagged by a set of soft cloths wiggling in the chair with nervousness, mumbling with soft sounds, without her string of nasty threats to Ace. He laughed out loud. "Come down, Gritty! I am not finished with your death sentencing. O! I saw that you placed a For Sale sign near the roadway and then sold the house. Well, that house belonged to me, not you. I also found the forged name of my granddaddy, your name as heir, and the fake Last Will and Testimony legal document when I was illegally entered and then searched my granddaddy's house. But that house belongs to me, so I was not illegally searching anything inside my house on _Ansley Lane_. The true Last Will and Testimony legal document is located inside a hidden drawer in the den room. So, you didn't inherit anything as the true Last Will and Testimony legal document had been updated the day after your legal wedding to my granddaddy, who excluded you from his will and his assets. Also, your fake and forged Last Will and Testimony, not really signed by my granddaddy, also excluded you from his will and his assets," Ace laughed out loud and then smirked at the elderly woman. Magritte started to wiggle faster side to side with confusion and frustration in her bonds without sneering and spitting at Ace.

He smiled. "Let me explain and clarify that legal statement. But, first, I am a little confused and surprised here. Every wealthy asshole here in the USA places their millions or billions in a trust account, for protection and safety, like money is more important than a single human life form. But that is a different subject matter. Of course, you know what a trust account is. You're a millionaire too. Well, the Smith family owns a trust account. A trust account is shared by one or more family members of the same clan. The Smith family trust account includes me, my granddaddy, my daughter Gem, and my future wife Fawn, where all the monies go and all of the assets including houses, automobiles, land property, airplanes, buildings, businesses, and the like is shared by the family members. However, Attila removed his name from the Smith family trust fund the day before he married your ass and became Mrs. Smith. Because Attila was a lawyer also and he didn't want you grabbing the fine china bone dishes and silverware eating utensils, after he died. Thus, Attila owned nothing. Nada. Zero. Once his name was removed from the Smith family trust account, I paid all of his personal invoices as a loving grandson. And I own all of the Smith family assets, including the cars, planes, trains, houses, woodlands, furniture pieces, the china bone dishes, the silverware eating utensils, and all of his clothes. Thus, whether you execute the fake or the true Last Will and Testimony legal document in a court of law in front of a judge, you get nothing. Nada. Zero. In the legal document, Attila did not list out any of his assets, because he does not own any assets. The trust account owns all of the assets and money accounts. Well, I hope I have run that topic down into the cool mud. Now, you placed a For Sale sign, and you did sell my house," he whipped out a single sheet of paper and waved it in the air. "My associate named Marigold Joy came to you and purchased my house, from you, using my monies, which did nothing to my bank account. However, you have committed fraud, perjury, robbery, and a slew of other illegal crimes against my real ass and my real estate, which makes you a true blue criminal. I should release your ass and then go to the police station and get your ass arrested and then take your ass to court, tossing your ass in jail, for many, many decades. But I'm going to be a nice guy and personally murder you ass, out of revenge for the cold blooded murder of my sweet granddaddy. Then I will be much, much better, and you will be much, much dead. Okay! I'm done with legal law lecture here. Ikko, shove Dr. Sam into his medical role and fix the broken voice cords on Fawn. O, Magritte! I have allowed your nasty presence here inside this ice cold operating suite to hear, not see my girl Fawn. Dr. Sam is a talented medical surgery, who is going to cure Fawn, so she can talk with her natural timber."

Sam turned from Magritte and sneered at Ace. "No! I am not going to do anything, for you or her. I have been brought here against my will along with that elderly lady. When I leave here, I will report this entire incident to the police. Then you will be arrested and convicted and sent to prison for decades and decades and decades."

Ikko stood beside Sam and stared at his nose profile, removing her face mask, exhaling with intrigue. "Well, everyone is confessing or confusing. So, I wanna confess or confuse here," she giggled with silliness. I was assigned to follow Fawn as I am her invisible protector when she is away from her fiancé Ace or her house. I followed Fawn around the town since Monday morning, when she had visited numerous medical physicians for a medical purpose. I really didn't know her purpose, only her safety. After Fawn had exited the last medical physician office and was upset, sobbing with tears, well, I, of course, had to investigate the personal and protection manner. However, when I entered your office setting, Dr. Sam, I viewed a square shaped office room with no glass windows that displayed the bright sunshine and heated waves. Now, I can understand no opening the window blinds during the heated day in the month of July, which is the hottest month on record, this year, since the caveman killed that sooth-tooth tiger some way yesteryears ago. But I was curious here. Your medical office reception space consisted of four solid walls in dark, dark brown paint that make me shiver in fear and worry. Then, the..."

Ikko stood beside Sam and stared at his nose profile, without wearing the face mask, exhaling with intrigue. "Well, everyone is confessing or confusing. So, I wanna confess or confuse here," she giggled with silliness. I was assigned to follow Fawn as I am her invisible protector when she is away from Ace or the house. I followed Fawn around the town since Monday morning, when she had visited numerous medical physicians for a medical purpose. I really didn't know her purpose, only her safety. After Fawn had exited the last medical physician office and was upset, sobbing with tears, well, I, of course, had to investigate the personal and protection manner. However, when I entered your office setting, Dr. Sam, I viewed a square-shaped office setting with no glass windows that displayed the bright beams of sunshine and heated waves. Now, I can understand no opening the window blinds during the heated day in the month of July, which is the hottest month on record, this year, since the caveman killed that sooth-tooth tiger, yesteryears ago. Bu, I was curious here and there. Your medical office reception space consisted of four solid walls in dark, dark brown paint that make me shiver in fright, fear, and worry, like a haunted house. And the row of lamps in the ceiling were set dull and light, like you didn't pay the electricity invoice on your medical office rental. And the air-conditioning unit blasting out ice cold air that must have been cabled directly from the North Pole. Thus, my body was shivering in coldness. My eyeballs were blinded in darkness. And my mind was scared and confused. O well! I thought the suite was damaged and cheap, within the older medical building. Then I met you..."

"...with a gun in your hand..." Sam sneered at Ikko.

Ikko laughed. "Yes! Well, I just tattled that I was confused and scary after seeing the reception room. Then I became more curious of you. You displayed a pair of bulging eyeballs, a pair of puffy retracted eyelids, and a set of reddened and inflamed eyeballs on your face. Then I can't help to notice the bulge in your neck as you were very heated and wore a light weight tee shirt. Your face and forehead continued to perspiration with moist water bubbles in the cold arctic air temperature. You were extremely skinny for a male of your age, where your clothes hung off your collar bones. Your left wrist bone is still wearing a tight bandage from a broken bone that is still healing due to osteoporosis. Your facial skin is sorta yellow colored like you have jaundice.

You wore a pair of flip-flips underneath your light weight trousers as you were heated within your biological body externally and internally, all the time which exposed the tops of the naked feet. The top of your foot exhibited reddened and thick skin, like you have stayed out too long at the swimming pool and burned your skin. And, finally, both of your hands were shaking as you continued to hide them behind your back spine or wiggle your hands in the air when you were angry at me for asking a ton of questions about my protectee Fawn. Once you have explained that Fawn had acquired a major case of fibrosis thickness on each one of her voice folds and you refused to provide medical treatment, I was very curious of your tart decision, since a medical physician likes money and likes to help sick patients. After our sweet encounter..."

"I will greatly disagree with that statement, Miss Kidnapper." Sam sneered at Ikko.

"... I pondered and pondered your rental office space plus with your presentation. Do you like that word, presentation? I know that you know what the word, presentation, represents the appearance of a person. Then, it dawned on me that you had acquired Graves' disease. Graves' disease is an immune system disorder coming from an over productive thyroid hormones coming from the thyroid gland. The thyroid gland is a small, butterfly-shaped object in the front of your neck, below your Adam's apple. The overactive gland produces too many hormones that affect numerous parts of the human body. The disease was diagnosed by Sir Robert J. Graves, a medical physician, in the year 1834. Graves' disease affects three million people here in the USA, presently. However, there is not cure for the disease, only medical treatments and Graves' disease symptoms can last for years or your lifetime. The major clinical symptoms include anxiety, hand tremors, puffy eyelids, and an enlarged thyroid gland. The bulge in your neck corresponded to an enlarged thyroid gland or goiter. Your skinny body cried out weight loss. The dull-looking lamps on top of the ceiling highlighted your light sensitivity with your affected two bulging eyeballs. The super cold room temperature screamed out your heat sensitivity on your body, when you were sweating on your face, neck, and arms inside the cold room. You possess weak and brittle bones due to the lack of calcium in your body. The exterior skin tissue on your feet still appears like an orange peel in red hue, inside each surgery bootie, which comes from a build-up of certain carbohydrates in the affect skin on the foot and the shins. You possessed pain in both of your eyeballs as you stopped and rubbed the eyelids, during my visitation. During my intense vocal interrogation, you stopped standing and sat down in the padded chair indicating fatigue for a mature, not older adult male. I suspected that you were experiencing irregular heartbeats, when you touched the side of your chest cavity, even with the heart, on occasion, during my visit. I could not detract from your fine finger tremors. You were both anxiety and irritable towards me, but of course, that could have been my loaded personal hand gun, pointing at your belly, during my vocal interrogation.

"Yes, it was." Sam growled at Ikko.

Ikko nodded with the face mask. " Of course, I didn't know if you experienced frequent bowel movements, double vision, vision loss on occasion or irregular menstruate cycle." Sam gasped in shock and shook his bone skull. Streg continued to point the cold barrel on the gun at Sam and gasped in shock. Julius continued to sit in a padded chair beside a blind and bound Magritte and gasped in shock.

Ace gasped in shock and then growled at Ikko. "What!"

Ikko lifted her gloved hand and continued her lecture. "Sam Germer possesses an advanced stage of Graves' disease. Graves' disease affects and damages numerous body parts and body systems. Dr. Sam is experiencing heart rhythm disorders which are changes n the structure and function of his heart muscles. His heart organ has the inability to pump out enough blood proteins throughout his body, which is medical called, congestive heart failure. Dr. Sam experienced congestive heart failure on February 14th, ironically Valentine's Day for people in love. He recovered in the hospital and returned back home, reducing his patient load for his private practice. However, Dr. Sam possesses a rare, body-threatening complication with his Graves' disease, which is called, a thyroid storm or accelerated hyperthyroidism or thryo-toxic crisis. His set of overactive thyroid hormones continuously affects his human body giving him a fever, profuse sweating, vomiting on occasion, diarrhea all the time, delirium, severe weakness, a few seizures, irregular heartbeats, the yellow tone on his skin and in his two eyeballs, low blood pressure. All of this can lead into a permanent coma, but not today," she laughed with her friends, not Magritte.

Ace gasped in worry. "Geez! Is Dr. Sam going to die here inside the operating room, girl?"

Ikko smiled behind the pink tinted face mask, "Not today, he is still healthy enough to perform one more simple laser operation surgery."

Sam frowned without wearing his face mask. "Who are you, young lady? You have accurately diagnosed my disease and provided detailed information regarding the disease stage within my body frame. Why aren't you a medical physician, instead of a mean murderer?"

She nodded. "I am not a murderer, but I am mean. That is a true statement. I work a day job for a living while expanding my interests during the nighttime hours. I was accepted, attended, and graduated from School of Medicine at Mobile University, a few years ago. I have never touched or seen a medical patient or work the medical field, only continue to read all of the latest medical journeys for fun, between my real job. So, I am a licensed State of Alabama medical physician in the field of dermatology."

Sam gasped in shock. "Then, you can work the laser gun and perform the fibrosis surgery on the young girl and let me go."

"No can do, sir! I have never touched a warm body or a laser gun, since medical school. And my fingers are not trained and delicate enough to perform surgery on the voice folds. So, you are the only hope for Fawn. I understand that your two hands shake, almost all the time. This is the reason for terminating your talented surgery skills at the hospital and at your private medical practice. However, Fawn needs your skills, today, so she can speak, again."

Sam shook his bone skull. "No! I refuse. You are a medical physician. You are thoroughly studied and can do the job, right here and right now. Release me, right here and right now! I will go home and forget about all of you and your nasty friends. I promise."

Ikko shook her covered face. "I cannot do that, sir."

Ace shook his uncovered face. "Naw! You can't do that, sir."

Sam exhaled with annoyance and turned to see Ace. "Well, hell! Checkmate! I will not work on that young girl and you can't make me either." Ace gasped in shock and stared at Sam. Sam laughed with amusement at the infamous military judge.

Ikko shook her covered face. "I was puzzled here, Dr. Sam. The medical literature recommends removing the overactive thyroid gland from your neck area or taking numerous dosages of safe and prescribed medication improving your bad clinical conditions. As a licensed and brilliant State of Alabama medical physician, I am very confused why you didn't select one of the two medical options, which was have slowed the progress of your grave disease. Excuse and use the pun!"

"Release me! I am ready to leave." Sam sneered at Ace.

Ikko continued to speak. "However, I suspect that selecting either one of those medical options would have terminated your medical practice, immediately. I am so sorry to say. You didn't answer my medical questions. Does your Graves' disease affect your menstrual cycle?"

Sam whipped around and gasped at Ikko. "What! What does that question have to do with me, young lady?"

Ikko nodded. "Graves' disease affects the overall well-being of the patient. Graves' disease is more common among females rather than males, before the age of forty years old. You are less than forty years of age, exhibit all of the symptoms of Graves' disease, lack an Adam's apple on your bulging throat muscles, probably do not menstruate and were birthed on April, the first, thirty seven years ago as Samantha Ann Germer, a girl. Am I wrong? Did I read your personal medical chart incorrectly here? I suspect you didn't have any trouble covering your true gender in high school or college classes or medical school as your disease sorta transformed you from a girl into a monster...male."

"What! You! You cannot read a person's medical chart. Where did you pick up all of these lies?" Sam growled at Ikko.

She continued to nod her bone skull. "Actually, as a licensed State of Alabama medical physician, I can do that. I did do that. I discovered that you are born and still are a female, who entered college as a male and graduated from medical school as a male named Sam Germer."

Ace cleared his throat. "Checkmate! I don't give a shit, if you wanna be a girl or a boy. Do what you wanna do! However, I do believe that all of the other female and male babies, toddlers, teenagers, mature and senior adults might conclude a differing opinion of your true, but hidden gender, over the years as a male medical physician. And let us not forget about lying to the Alabama Medical Board and their snobby members either. So, let's make a deal! If you perform the simple operation on my girl Fawn, then all of us will forget you and your secret."

Sam turned and sneered at Ace. "That's blackmail!"

Ace laughed. "That's green mail! I have a bag of green dollar bills for your physician services also. I always pay my debts. Look! We are wasting time here. This is the Fourth of July. I wanna be home watching television and cooking hotdogs rather than arguing genetics with you, Dr. Samantha. What is your final answer, doc? I will warn you here. I can go and find another talented surgeon that is familiar with fibrosis thickening of the voice folds and perform the medical operation later, which will piss me out and take more time. You are here. She is here. We are all here to finish the procedure. Else, if you do piss me out, I will expose you to the entire world, starting right now, tonight. Your life is hell now. Just wait! No fury like a mom and a dad scorched by the attending medical physician that touched their precious child's butthole with a pair of female hands, not male finger tips." He laughed with his friends. "Come on, doc! This medical procedure is easy and fast. You only have to remove eighty percent of the fibrosis threads on her voice cords. I will understand. Then she can talk with a whisper. Then I can go and find another talented surgeon. What do say now, Dr. Samantha?" Sam did not stir. Ace exhaled with frustration while controlling his wildly urge to murder the good physician with both of his gloved hands. "Look! We all make mistakes down here on Planet Earth as a human. That's why Almighty God sent all of his children down here to learn the heavenly lessons, so we all can go into heaven, when we die. Now, I do make mistakes down here and I ask for forgiveness from Almighty God. The key here is to ask for forgiveness and not don't make the same mistake twice. Well, I am not supposed to judge but I will tattle here for all eardrums. God sees. God knows. God acts and then reacts in his own time frame with each one of his children. This simple act from you, Dr. Samantha will show God that he was not wrong giving you, your talented doctor skills and making you a girl and naming you, Samantha, a girl's name with the man in the middle. You only need to do one good deed to make up for all of the bad decisions. I hope my little pep talk works on your girly emotions," he chuckled alone.

Dr. Samantha grinned without emotions on her girly feelings and lifted both of her yellow tinted hands in the air. "My medical disease affects my hands. I cannot perform any type of operations, by force or by will. So, you have selected and kidnapped a lousy medical physician."

Ikko nodded. "Actually, your hands are not shaking, and your vision is clear. While you were struggling during your gagged and tied moment, inside your living room with my two friends, I punched a needle into your arm filled with primidone ..."

"That's an anti-seizure medicine." Samantha gasped in shock.

She nodded. "I know, that you know that, too. But I still inserted it into your body. Now, your fingers, finger bones, and hands and hand bones do not shake. You can start the operation, doctor. I am your nurse assistance here. But, don't sweat anthills! The hand tremors will return once the medicine has cleared your liver, excreting through your bowels, sliding down from your anal into the pine-scented toilet bowl at your house." She laughed with her friends.

Samantha gasped in shock. "You...you...you have..."

"...to get started right now. The physician-prescribed primidone medication wears off within four hours, after entering the blood stream. Lean down, please. I will place the mask over your face." She lifted her hands in the air. Samantha stared down at the shorter female with a sneer and then turned to see Ace with a growl. Ace nodded with a stern face with his vocal warning of releasing damaging information on a male physician, who really was a female physician. The citizens of Mobile would become a mod of angry peoples, if one of their precious children had been touched by the lying bitch. The other half of the angry mod would sue Dr. Samantha for all of her assets including bank accounts, automobiles, airplanes, trains, houses, land property. The man, really a woman would be ruined and chased outta of town, if she was lucky.

Samantha exhaled with fear and spun around, leaning down parallel with the floor. Ikko tied the face mask over her naked face. Samantha stood upright and marched ahead, sliding down on top of the high stool, overlooking the open mouth on Fawn. Fawn were still resting and ready for the surgical operation.

At 05:37 pm, among the blistering daylight hours outside, within the ice cold operating suite inside the hospital building, on top of the floor, slightly behind Ikko, Streg still held the hand gun, in case, the physician panicked or badly reacted to Ace's commands. Actually, the hand gun was stunner weapon, not a real hand gun. He moved ahead and stopped, reaching up, pulling down the laser gun, where Ikko had pointed out early in the afternoon during their tour inside the operating suite. Sam took the laser instrument as Streg backed away and watched. Sam ignited the flame, emitting a blue heated stream of radiation through the air waves that hit the side wall inside the room, without a person or a piece of property. She studied the X-ray film picture first and then studied the live camera showing her throat muscles. She adjusted the laser ray down to the tiniest setting, scooting the stool, almost covering Fawn. He cut the laser beam and then eased the point of the instrument down into her throat area, igniting the laser beam again.

On top of the floor, Ace stared at the tiny stream of colored blue light on the colored monitor screen, slightly pacing side to side with worry. His talented and brilliant Resource, Dr. Ikko had promised that the medical procedure was safe but labor intensive. Dr. Samantha was an expert in his medical field and highly recommended by numerous medical physicians and surgeons, until he had unexpectedly decided to retire from his chosen medical profession.

Beside Dr. Samantha and the operating chair, Dr. Ikko worked as the surgical nurse and released over, wiping off numerous dripping and draining wet particles of mouth drool and dissolving fibrosis strands coming out of her mouth during the laser operation.

At 06:28 pm, Dr. Samantha cut off the laser drill and slowly removed the equipment from Fawn's mouth, nodding in the sweaty, wet face mask. Ikko quickly removed the equipment around Fawn's mouth and eased the jaw line back into place. Fawn would have a sore mouth, cut tongue, stretched cheekbones, and bruised jaw line from the operation but she will be able to whisper the words, I love you, to her future husband Ace for the first time.

Dr. Samantha scooted the high stool from the operating chair and removed all of the wet surgical clothing, standing upright with a sour frown at Ace, in silence annoyance.

On the entrance wall, Streg spun around and nodded to Julius. Julius stood upright from the chair and leaned down, grabbed one of the arms on Magritte. She had been listening to the conversation without speaking with her words or seeing with her eyeballs. She jumped with fear and then slowly stood upright with the assistance of the large male, shuffling ahead, slowly spinning around and exited through the operating room with Julius. The third Resource for Ace, Julius padded down an empty operating reception space alone and escorted Magritte back one of the limousines for her final trip.

Inside the operating room, Dr. Samantha removed all of the smelly, bloody, wet surgical gear and stood in place, taking turns seeing Ace and then Streg, who continued to wear his surgical gear disguise. Streg motioned with the gun for Dr. Samantha to move ahead.

Ikko continued to act like the nurse and checked the clinical vital signs on Fawn, who was healthy but sleeping off the sedation inside the oversized operating chair. She wore a new set of clean warm blankets covering her semi-naked body. Her lips were cut and bloody. Her jaw line was bruised. One of her cheekbones was bruise. The mouth was a small area that didn't want to participate in the recent successful surgical procedure, but the bone structure had no choice, thus becoming slightly injured with minor pain.

Fawn will not mind, once she learns about her fixed voice folds.

Ikko concluded her nursing job and spun around, ripping off her smelly, bloody, sweaty surgical gear also, nodding to Ace. "Fawn is doing very well. She will be asleep for another thirty minutes or so. But you can come over and hug her body, very gently, Ace. Don't touch her face. She has some bruising but all of that will heal within a few days, like a regular bruise."

Ace nodded with a smile and stared at Fawn, moving ahead, colliding into Ikko. He hugged her body and whispered into her eardrum. "Thank you! Thank you so much! I couldn't do this alone and without you." He pulled back with a grin. "Are you shore that you don't wanna become a brilliant medical physician, saving lives? I can provide a new medical office anywhere in the city of Mobile or within the State of Alabama or another city throughout America, if you want."

Ikko dropped the smelly gear on the floor and smiled at Ace.

Samantha continued to stand in place wearing his leisure clothes from home, consisting of a tan colored tee shirt, a pair of lightweight white tinted trousers, and a pair of brown tinted flip-flops hearing the private conversation while trying to save her life. She spun around and smiled to Ace. "The sleeping patient will..."

"... experience vocal fatigue like Fawn had overused her voice while singing a loud rock and roll song or cheering at one of the local sporting events. Let her voice rest over two weeks, while the voice cord tissues heal and drink plenty of fresh spring water, not caffeine or coffee or alcohol beverages. She will recover very fast. She will experience massive hoarseness such like a raspy or breathy voice. Her larynx and vocal cords need lots of moisture, so it is important to drink eight glasses of water a day, avoid excessive alcohol intake, extremely spicy foods, smoking, and frequent use of antihistamines or cold medicine. She should use a humidifier to maintain thirty percent humidity in your house, which helps with her healing and recovery. Do not smoke anything around her, at any time. The irritant inside her throat is bad for her throat and her body. The act of smoking endangers her entire biological body anyways and runs the risk of developing and damaging cells inside her throat that could lead to cancer. Do not sing too loudly, if she joins the church choir, after her recovery either. I know you sing in the church choir, right now. And she will wanna join you also. That's pretty much it for her recovery. Fawn will be fine and fit readying to sing, dance, laugh, giggle and entertain you for the rest of your days. And I wrote it all down, so you don't need to contact me, ever," she pulled out and wiggled a folded sheet of paper, handing to Ace. He laughed with amusement and accepted the paper with the medical instructions. She winked. "That sheet of paper has my mobile telephone number and my new home address too."

"The check is in the mail. I promise." Ace laughed with her.

Sam exhaled with annoyance at the young brilliant woman and frowned at Ace. "Are you going to murder me right here and right now, sir?"

Ace continued to smile with happiness for his girl, not the surly physician."Naw! I don't wanna clean up the mess here inside a freezing operating room. My Resources are going to take good care of you, doc. Thanks for saving my girl's voice cords, Dr. Sam and Dr. Samantha!"

Samantha sneered at Ace. "You're a bastard, sir!"

He laughed with a nod and ripped off the dry surgical gear, dropping each item on top of the floor, "I'm been called worser. Take the good doctor back home!"

Samantha sneered. "When I return back home, I am contacting the local police department, reporting this abduction..."

"... like an alien sighting ..." Ace laughed at the physician without seeing her scowl. "Good night, Dr. Samantha! Take her away, Streg!"

Streg moved ahead and stopped, reaching forward, stabbing the cold barrel into the back spine on Samantha. She slowly spun around and scooted around Streg with a manly sneer, leading them across the operating room floor, out the open archway, and down a quiet hallway. They would exit the hospital building and slowly padded towards a second limousine for her final trip.

Inside the operating room, Ikko smiled at Ace. "I am going to save every single stray and sick canine and cat bringing them to live and thrive on my new animal farm. I wanna do that for the rest of my life. You don't know any of our life backgrounds, Ace. But Julius and I had worked together in one big hell hole, years ago. Julius is not dumb mentally, but he is a little slow with his mental thinking. He does not work well with people, only animals. I'm setting up the animal farm, mostly for him to thrive and live, away from humans. I... we really appreciate you giving us a chance, when no one would."

Ace hugged her again and pulled back with a smile. "You are the best investment in my life. I feel the same way. You get going and enjoy your life, before I change my mind and continue to pay ya'll as my Resources. O! For still alive and breathing Magritte, kill that bitch, your way. I don't care. And I don't care to know either."

She winked with a smile. "Get it, Ace!" Ikko back stepped from Ace and spun around, dashing ahead across the naked floor from the ice cold operating suite, leaving Ace with Fawn. Fawn needed to awake before Ace could lift her from the operating room.

Ace moved ahead and touched the arm on Fawn without disturbing her bruised face, smiling at his girl, in silence, watching for her first movement.

At 06:46 pm, Julius stood inside a moving freight elevator that was housed in the rear of the hospital docking station, where all of the thick cardboard boxes and package entered for delivery throughout the campus. The carriage stopped. The elevator door opened and revealed a male. Streg still wore the pale blue tinted surgical gear that covered his face and his body, standing in front of an open trunk on a black tinted limousine, staring at Julius and Magritte. He nodded in silence to Julius. Julius gently shoved Magritte ahead and shuffled the carriage floor, stopping her in front of an open trunk.

Julius was a tall and large male. He reached down and cuddled Magritte, lifting her off the ground, twisting her plump body sideways, gently loading her body down into the open trunk floor. He released her body and back stepped from the trunk, nodding to Streg in silence.

Streg continued to guard the open trunk and smiled at Julius. "Julius, you and Ikko have a nice life. And I promise to look out for any and all stray cats and dogs throughout Mobile. When I find one, I will capture it and bring to you at your new home. Don't worry! I like animals too and I might keep some of them myself. Good luck and God speed, Julius!"

Julius reached over and grabbed Streg lifting the muscular man in the air for a few seconds, granting a brotherly hug and then slowly lowered Streg back down to the ground. Streg wobbled and then balanced his upright body from the gigantic brotherly hug. Julius smiled at his friend. "Thanks, Streg!"

Streg laughed and pointed to the second parked limousine, which stood a few feet from the first one. "Go and get into the driver's seat inside the other limo, Julius. Dr. Samantha is tied in the rear seat for her final trip also," he continued to point at the vehicle with the proper direction for his slow-thinking friend, slowly spinning around, watching Julius with care.

Julius nodded with a smile and scooted around Streg and the edge of the first limousine, padding ahead towards the second transport, stopping in front of the driver's seat. He opened the door and slid down into the seat, waiting on his female Ikko. She always told him what to do next.

In front of the freight elevator, behind the open trunk, Streg spun around and leaned down with a smile, ripping off the soft cloths from Magritte. "Now, you can see and taste again. You are too short and fat to fight with me. You are too short and plump to jump out of the deep trunk.

Magritte sneered at the unknown male. "Get away from me! You can't harm me. I can't see your face, but I will hunt you down and find you again. I did not nothing wrong here. Once I am freed..."

Streg slammed down the trunk lid cutting off her loud words of angry, exhaling with annoyance at the elderly woman. The freight elevator rattled with metal pain and stopped, sliding open the metal door. He spun around and smiled at Ikko.

Ikko dashed ahead from the carriage and jumped up, landing into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her body. She hugged his neck and pulling back with smiled, saying. "Well, this is it, Streg!" He lowered her to the ground. She continued to dance and smile, like usual. "We make it. I always wondered if I would see another sunrise in our line of work, but I will view a new one, every day."

He nodded with a stern face. "Are you going to be okay with Julius?"

She nodded. "Julius, he possesses a little brain, but a big heart. His heart guides all of his emotions in love, not hate, not greed, but friendship. He is very excited about our animal farm, which is located far away from the cities and the peoples. Ace is ending us lots of money, so we can save lots of animals too. You are invited to come and live with us in the countryside, Streg. What are you doing to do now, that this is finally over?"

He smiled. "Yeah, my life, as a murderer and assassin, is finally done and gone. I don't regret my life either. Ace has purchased a boat for me, a really big one, with all of the bells and whistles. I'm going to sail the coastline, up and down the eastern USA, not out into the deep ocean waters. I'm scared of the sharks."

She popped his massive chest of hard muscles. "Streg, you're a shark here on land. You ain't scared of nothing, but me."

He laughed and then nodded. "You're right about that. Do you think Ace will be okay?"

She nodded. "Ace is fine and dandy. He is settling down and getting married to a new girl. I'm glad the medical operation was a success."

He reached out and tweaked her nose, pulling back his hand, before she cut his limb off with one of her hidden surgical knives. "Well, I'm glad you got that medical degree and finally used it for good, not evil." He laughed alone.

She tilted her chin and smiled. "Yeah, I did use it for good, today. Speaking of evil! What are you going to do with Magritte?"

He frowned. "My business, this is my final dirty deed for Ace."

She nodded with a stern face. "Yeah, this is my final dirty deed for Ace, too. I got Dr. Samantha. Well, this is it. Good bye and good luck, Streg! I love you like a taller and meaner semi-brother. If you are up that way, please come and have lunch and say hi to us and all of the dogs and cats."

He smiled. "I will, kid! Good bye and good luck, Ikko!"

Ikko back stepped and scooted around Streg, spinning around, waving both of her arms for fun. He spun around and watched her like a big brother. She slammed into the door and then reached over, opening the heavy door, without assistance, folding down and entered the rear compartment with Dr Samantha. She gave orders to Julius. He started the engine and slowly steered safely away from the hospital campus, heading ahead towards the roadway.

Behind the closed trunk, in front of the closed freight door on the hospital building, Streg slowly scooted around the rear bumper, without hearing the angry words from Magritte. The modern day limousine was a joy to drive without the outside or inside noise and sweet harmony from the purring motor. The driver's door was opened. He slid down into the driver's seat and started the engine, hearing the power without hearing the mouth on Magritte. He slowly steered ahead and exhaled with sadness and happiness, driving the limousine to the final destination. This was his last dirty nasty deed for Ace.

At 07:18 pm, the sun still shone brightly on a sizzling heated day in the city of Mobile, within the US State of Alabama. His active mind wondered backwards in time and as his free hand lifted up and gently rubbed the permanent scar curving around his left cheekbone. His past memories activated thinking of his terrible beginnings on the pathway as an assassin for hire.

Six years, five months, thirteen days, fourteen hours, 37 minutes, and two seconds ago....

She stood on top of an elevated platform, in front of the open podium, in the cold winter, with a set of tiny white tinted snowflakes on top of her brown tinted fur hat and waved with both of her brown tinted leather gloved hand at the cheering audience. The new President of the United States of America had been sworn into her presidential office and had finished her acceptance speech promising a fruitful country, a free nation, and a fun time for each citizen of America.

The inauguration speech was a traditional event on the lower steps of the US Capitol Building, in Washington D.C., the capital of the USA, occurring around January 21st each four years, in the early morning hours.

The entire length of the National Mall was opened and filled with thousands of people, w here a few famous buildings stood pride and upright, such like, the Smithsonian Institution with the ancient glossy dinosaur bones and the Space and Rocket Center with the ancient and modern rocket shell from the 1960s. A mess and a mass of people came from America and all the world to view the annual swearing-in ceremony for the day to see the first female woman President of the United States.

A talented sniper can shoot a five inch target with a high power rifle from 1.5 distance miles away. Three hours later, in the freezing snowflakes and ice icicles, one of the assigned Army snipers rested on top of the National Space and Air Museum rooftop with a clear view of the new female president, all of the old dignities, and her family members and personal friends, who were all seated behind her ass. The sniper was five blocks from the Capitol Building, freezing an ass off in the wintertime weather and lightly covered in an array of matching tiny white tinted snowflakes over his sniper uniform. But he didn't move and barely breathed. The high power scope on his long rifle watched her right earlobe for any type of suspicious actor or activity. His co-workers watched her other body parts for any sign of trouble.

The first female United States of America President stood in behind the draped red, white, and blue starred piece of fluttering fabric and in front of the closed entrance door on top of the floor of a vintage railroad caboose car, waving with both arms to the crowd of people, before beginning the train ride.

The political train ride was scheduled to depart the depot from Washington DC to Maryland for a short ride to stop and greet the admiring populous that voted her into office. The fun part of the train contained a set of children who had never been on-board a moving locomotion.

The whistle train stop tours had began in the country of merry England, when a touring politician takes the train stopping and visiting the populous of the rural countryside. The train could cover vast amounts of landscape in a short period of time.

At the Union Station rail track, the green colored caboose railroad car is attached at the rear to a parade of numerous sitting and diner blue colored window decorated railroad coaches that provided beverages and the food for the children. the line of coaches was pulled by a single powerful locomotion engine. The US Federal government agencies worked together to prevent a single private airplane, a new helicopter, a balloonist, and any other flying objects near the airspace above the train route and near the depot station.

Washington DC Union Station displays eighteen platforms and twenty two tracks of rail. It is a major train station, transportation hub, and leisure destination in Washington DC. It opened in the year 1907 It is the second-busiest railroad station with annual ridership of five million people. It is visited by over 40 million people a year.

Today seemed liked five million people stood and cheered on the grounds.

The station is located on the southern end of the Northeast Corridor, an electrified rail line runs north through the cities of Baltimore, Philadelphia, New York City, and Boston. The track area is divided into an upper and a lower level. The upper level displays a boarding platform that is equal to the door level of each train. The upper level track terminates at the station and only captures the arriving and departing trains from the north.

The interior waiting room consists of 96 feet series of arched ceilings above the floor. The front entrance of the building is 600 feet long. inside the Union State, the ceiling is made of vaulted arches where a terrorist cannot hide. Inside the main hall, there are twenty six centurion granite statues with an armed solider between each statute, who watched the ass of the new female president.

Inside the Attic block which was above the main waiting room, there were four sharp shooters. On the rooftop of the Union Station, there were two sharp shooters with a long rifle protecting the new female President of the USA from a terrorist attack.

Finally, north of the Union Station, the railroad yard contains an open train maintenance facility. A sharpshooter rested uncomfortably on top of a modern day railroad in the heated sunshine and stared at the side of her nose profile through the telescope inside the caboose compartment. A railroad yard is the current maintenance facility to repair the railroad car coaches. The railroad car stood on top of a storage track both stationary and tall, so the single sharp shooter held a good view of the new female president, Mir Nettles.

"SS13, report your position," the leader of the sharp shooter military team voiced into the ear bug.

"Clear," Streg softly mumbled into the air waves as the sensitive ear bot picked up the single word. The male soldier displayed a head of cropped brownish-red hair strands, a tone of bronze skin, and a pair of amber colored eyeballs. His handsome face displayed a set of long black tinted eyelashes that any woman would envy.

"Copy," the leader said.

The power engine slowed moved down the track toward the north. The train and the box cars were traveling toward the city of Baltimore, within the US State of Maryland, which was the female president's hometown, for a day of fun time at the circus for the kids.

Then, sharp shooter Streg was off for the rest of the day. This was his last assignment until next week, a short vacation.

The locomotion slowly moved down the track toward the north on purpose. On the rear of the caboose, all the happy loud children were standing around the new female president, waving to the people. Their parents were inside the diner coach with the food trays and beverage glasses on this cold day of January. The children continued to wave and cheer at the oversized crowd of people that filled the platform. Some of the train personnel stopped working and turned, waving to the vintage caboose of green at the children too. The locomotion engine slowly moved ahead leaving the station, when a tall shadow crawled out from underneath the moving caboose, leaping from the snowy ground, landing on the hard surface and shoved the children from his footpath. He whipped out a long hunting knife and sneered, quickly advanced and grabbed the female president by her covered throat, ripping the fur coat and the turtle neck sweater.

The scope from his rifle focused on her nose profile. The nasty masked terrorist held his knife in front of her two eyeballs as the shiny metal twinkled in the sunray. The mask on the terrorist showed his smile and stared at the overcrowded platform of frightened people. The people were screaming and pointing at the bold, brave, and stupid terrorist.

Streg was the only hope for the new female president. The cold barrel of the high power rifle aimed at the right eardrum of the terrorist. He fired the single bullet and hit the woman. His heated bullet entered her right eyeball and sliced through her gray matter, coming out the other end, stabbing the steel wall on the moving train. He fired a second bullet and hit the right eyeball on the terrorist. The man slowly stumbled forward from the entrance door and fell down over the railing of the caboose, landing on top of the electrical track. His body burnt and sizzled in blood, tissues and bones. Then, the moving train finally halted.

Three week days later, on January 24th, after the death and the official burial of the first female President of the USA, at the undiscovered USA Army Base, soldier Streg still wore the dirty fatigues from yesterday, a tragic day for both the president and his person. He stood in front of the judge's bench, staring at the rows of military judges in a solid black robe with a somber face of old, wise and angry. Streg felt numb inside his guts and stood in silence.

The first female JAG judge sneered at Streg. "You killed the first lady president of the United States. What do you say for your person, soldier?"

Streg sneered and then calmed speaking with a cold, nature baritone timber. "I aimed at the fucking terrorist. The terrorist swiftly shuffled backward. The bullet hit her face."

The third male JAG judge nodded with a stern face at Streg. "I can understand the explanation as a former sharp shooter. However, the American people want blood of the body that killed the first woman president. Streg, I have no choice.

Streg did not wiggle his body but firmed his tone. "What choice? I don't mean to kill the woman. She was going to die. No other sharp shooter could hit the terrorist. It's a chance we all take in any hostage situation. I did the best that I could."

The fourth male JAG judge smiled at Streg, "Your best was not good enough. I got thousands of thousands of written and electronic death notes for your personal execution in front of a firing squad on live television..."

The sixth male JAG laughed out loud and shook his bond skull, "I am sorry. The military courts don't do that anymore."

The first female JAG judge sneered. "The US State of Maryland still does. Some of the senators want your ass moved to the US State of Maryland for prosecution."

Streg nodded. "I get a court date and a court trial..."

"No!" The third male JAG judge sneered. "You get a noose or a bullet or a ..."

Streg growled in his defense without a legal lawyer. "I am innocent here. I received the order to fire from my supervisor. I fired the damn gun. The bullet discharged and hit the wrong target. I killed the terrorist, too. Don't I get credit for that one?" The military officer tapped on the slips of paper. "What is going to happen now?" He frowned and tugged on the metal handcuffs. "I am not going to sign anything or say anything that will get me killed. I am innocent. What is going to happen to me now?"

The second male JAG judge exhaled with annoyance. "You are military solider. Thank goodness! The fucking senators and congressmen and women can't touch you. They can whine and scream. But the military has made the decision."

Streg snarled at the row of judges. "What fucking decision?"

The second male JAG judge smiled. "You have been found guilty of neglect. You are going to jail."

Streg gasped. "I wasn't neglectful. For how long? How long am I in jail for killing a terrorist, which was my job?"

The first female JAG judge shook her curls. "I don't know."

Streg frowned. "Even the military solider gets a fair and speedy trial."

The third male JAG judge said. "I know that. I am a lawyer which had been paid for by the US military. But, in this instance, you get to keep your ass. You will go directly to jail and do not pass go. Look! I don't know how long you will be in jail, only a couple of years..."

"A couple of years of what?" Streg sneered.

"This is the best that military can do for you, Streg. You fucked up! You shouldn't have missed the president and hit the side of the damn train. Then, she would be alive with neck wounds and still the first elected female President of the United States. Your military career would not be done, and you could have retired and done something else, beside permanent jail time."

Streg mouth spat down on the floor and stared at each judge. "Fuck this thing!"

The fourth male JAG judge was a friend of his family and shook his bone skull at the young male, "I can still fuck anything I want. But you, my old friend cannot. I am sorry. Take him away! Show him his new bedroom with the clean bed sheets!"

The military guards reached out and grabbed each arm on Streg, spinning them around to face the closed door, padding ahead. The door opened into the hallway. The trio entered the empty hallway and then engaged a gang of other military soldiers. The gang of soldiers attacked Streg. The two military guards reacted too slowly and attacked the rouge warriors, protecting the prisoners.

Several minutes later, all of the bodies rested down on the floor, in pools of red tinted blood proteins, no one was alive but Streg. He was an unconscious body, not a dead soldier, like planned by the vicious group of dirty politicians and vicious rebels. He exhibited bruises, broken bones and nasty cuts over his bronze skin, displaying a prominent wound slice that curved around the left cheekbone, a broken nose, and a set of long black tinted eyelashes that any woman would envy.
Six months, six days, six hours, six seconds, and six milliseconds later...

City of Mobile, within the US State of Alabama

Coast Guard Administration Building

June 1st, Friday

The burning pile of flaming heat from the death of the first woman president had died down, after a few months. The new Vice President of the USA was a male and gratefully accepted the new presidency, wearing a gleeful personality and a sad face. And all of the numerous reporter news media outlets had forgotten about American killer Streg and focused on the rash, irrational personality behavior of the new USA President while the gang of opposing nasty politicians worked to impeach the new president for bribes, traitor and other crimes.

Within the outside tiny outdoor patio, Streg squatted down over the heated yellow colored brick floor and reached out, clipping the bottom of the long stem with a pair of cutting shears. The flower was fully bloomed and pretty. He collected the last flower and stood with a sigh, scanning the twinkling and glittering fresh water of Mobile Bay, without walking over the pretty white tinted sand grains on a pair of naked feet or touching the warm water with one or both of his hands. That was his permanent punishment for his wicked deed, until his finally death day.

He currently, maybe permanently, lived inside a ten-foot tall by ten-foot long by ten-foot wide jail cell with a set of sliding glass doors that led into a very tiny and enclosed courtyard flower garden. The height of the courtyard was three feet tall and six feet wide which allowed for a viewing of bay waters all year long. Some of the planted girly flowers died from the harsh sun during the heated hot weather in the summertime but bloomed lovely during the mild warm winter weather.

He was lucky than most receiving a slap of daily sunshine on the outdoor court yard floor and his face.

He had been convicted and found guilty, without a military court of a murder and then imprisoned inside a military containment center in the city of Mobile, within the US State of Alabama. The two-story containment center stood on top of a piece of flat concrete slab that was located on Government Street down below the main library building.

The average citizen of the lovely southern beach town of Mobile did not know about the two-story administration building of concrete blocks in dull tan paint. The L-shaped building resembled nothing historical featuring a row of low-drop glass window panes that were all black tinted from the bright southern sunrays.

The front of the building showed a single dark colored metal door beside two rows of elegant windows which was posted with a set of standing armed soldiers and guns inside the interior of the entrance room. The entrance room contained a single short metal ugly desk with a single book of paper and a lonely blue colored ink pen that logged each new prisoner from one of the US military armed forces. An enclosed room served as the first night of confinement of a convicted solider within the US military armed forces. On each side of the entrance room, there was a short corridor. On side housed the quarters of the staff, the gun stores, the kitchen, and the garage with a single vehicle.

The other side housed all the joint prisons, where the new inmate from the Coast Guard or Navy military branch slept that night. Each joint prison room faced a window that was made from bullet-proof material, so the inmate could see the last night of freedom.

Across each locked door, there were several rooms which housed a fitness center, an entertainment center, and a room which was filled with old boxes of stuff from the library. The main library discarded books, musical discs, and movie discs, laptops, and other boxes of junky stuff when a new shipment of merchandise arrived. Thus, the containment center rented out the space from the city as the clueless library mistress though the building was some type of extra storage for the main library.

The next morning, the inmate was shipped to his or her permanent home. The saltwater bay of Mobile allowed for easy transport of any inmate of the military armed forces by boat.

There were other containment centers throughout the USA. However, this one was the 'bestest' and the worsest of all the centers, since the devoted gang of armed soldiers rather enjoyed taunting and teasing the new inmate for fun amusement. Most times, the new inmate didn't make it out of containment center thirteen.

Note: The number thirteen as an unlucky math number for anyone.

If the new inmate survived the beating and the blooding from the gang of soldiers, then the inmate was shipped someplace else to serve out his or her sentence. This particular containment center received the vile of the vicious inmate. The inmate had murdered someone or hurt someone so bad that he or she would serve a life prison sentence.

The building did not see the need to waste the taxpayers' monies, when hell wasn't filled yet.

Six months ago, a black tinted utility vehicle parked inside the doubled side garage. In the front seat, there were two soldiers. In the rear seat there were three soldiers. Inside the middle seat, there was one solider with a gun and Streg. He wore the smelly green colored fatigues from the incident at the Union Station in Washington DC with a sneer of fury. Both arms were handcuffed behind his curved back spine in pain. Both of his ankle bones were chained together while slowly moving ahead at the foot pace of a crawling baby. The door opened. The solider on top of the middle seat elbowed the rib cage of Streg with a grunt that represented the word move.

Streg slid over the smooth leather seat and stood upright with a sneer of hate, moving outside the open door. Each solider exited the vehicle and shuffled around, surrounding in front and beside Streg like he was a series cold blooded serial killer of old gray head and sweet grandmas. The pair of two lead soldiers advanced ahead toward an open door and entered through the archway.

Streg moved ahead between the square shaped sentry escort and turned side to side, staring into each open door, representing a few quarter living spaces, the kitchen space for food, the gun stores with exposed weapons, and a single room with a filing cabinet.

The tour ended.

The pair of two lead soldiers entered through arched doorway into an empty room.

Streg turned and stared at the side wall with a single door and a row of low black tinted windows. The front entrance of the building was never used, only seen by the eyeballs of the viewing public of people within Mobile. He knew that each containment center was secret even within the ranks of the military. The populous and famous joint prison was located in Fort Leavenworth within the US State of Kansas. Streg would not be sent there. However, he didn't know which joint prison, since his old friend Kanab didn't bother to tattle.

The five-person sentry escort moved across the hard tile floor and stopped, standing in place in silence with a set of loud grunts of amusement. Streg tensed while still wearing the handcuffs over the wrist bones and the chains over the ankle bones. However, he was a US military soldier.

His parents were a pair of school teachers at the local elementary and high school where their son Streg and their two daughters had attended and graduated also. Streg attended and graduated college with a computer degree but he wanted to be a US military solider more than life. He watched military movies, read military books, learned to shoot a gun at his grandmother's farm as a young body.

His father did not approve of the US military life for his son. His parents wanted Streg to graduated college, meet a girl, get a job, and then married.

After college, Streg joined the US military without any regrets and with great pride. His skills with the gun earned him the role of a sharp shooter. He was very, very good. He went on numerous military missions into foreign countries and kept coming back alive and unwounded. Each visit home was a wonderful moment that lasted for five seconds. Then the same old worn argument from his parents grew vocal and loud for their son getting out the US military.

Thus, Streg could have abandoned his life time dream and taken a good paying job, maybe meeting a nice sweet hometown girl. Then, he could have moved into the civilized city and provided an average living.

However, Streg wanted more than the average living.

Inside the entrance room in front of the single desk, the pair of lead soldiers spun around with a grin to see Streg. Streg was not stupid. He didn't really murder anyone. He only missed the terrorist and killed the first female President of the United States by accident, of course.

However, his name was mud, and his life was shitty, at the moment. But Almighty God and the good genes from his father had blessed Streg in both height and a set of thick muscles. He played as a linebacker in high school and college football games. You have not felt numbing dizziness until you hit another guy that weighed over three hundred pounds.

Granted, the current group of semi-jackasses was not three hundred pounds in weigh, a piece. Some of the soldiers stood behind Streg at average height with a set of sissy growls like a bear cub. Some of the soldiers were a little shorter than Streg with a set of evil laughs, since Streg was six feet and five inches. He was disadvantaged with the pair of bounded ankle and writs bones, not stupid.

Streg chuckled with a wink at the face on the right and swiftly tossed a full body slam with an upright elbow jab into the throat and jaw line of the soldier on the side of his body. The solider hit the side of the table after falling unconscious from the elbow slam, starting to tumble down over the flat table surface and eventually onto the hard floor.

Number one jackass was out of the fist fight.

One of the rear soldiers left the box formation and ran ahead toward the desk, catching his buddy in both arms before a serious head injury on the floor.

Streg swiftly hopped sideway back into the middle of the box formation and quickly leaped up into the air, tucking both kneecaps into an ass, kicking out both feet like a bucking horse. The chained ankles connected into the single solider behind Streg in the groin. The soldier tumbled backward with a loud grunt of pain.

Number two jackass was out of the fist fight.

The feet and the chains ricocheted off the stunned solider and launched Streg directly into the air with inertia into the solider on the right side. Streg slammed a set of wide shoulders into the empty air space between the two stunned upright soldiers and as, his head fit through the tiny opening with a lip smirk. The collar bone of Streg hit into the chest of each solider. Then, each solider reached up and wrapped both arms around the board chest of Streg. Then the three soldiers tumbled backward as one person and landed on top of the hard tile.

Each solider also continued to wear the protective gear while escorting a dangerous inmate of the US military armed forces. The two soldiers acted like a bed mattress on the hard floor, catching and cuddling the upper body of Streg into both arms with a set of loud grunts.

Streg rested on top of the semi-conscious soldiers with a loud chuckle of victory. However, he was still tied and bounded at both wrist and ankle bones wiggling side to side, trying to upright a fallen body over the lumpy human mattress. Number three and four attackers were out of the active fist fight.

At the office desk, the last conscious solider gently lowered the unconscious solider down over the hard floor with a sneer and stood upright, grabbing the short club on the utility belt, dashing over and stood over the back spine of Streg. He reared back and dropped an arm over the hard skull of Streg, gently tapping the thick wood into the rear hairy head.

Streg exhaled with a soft curse and closed both eyelids, passing out into the darkness.

A few hours later, inside the Prison Number 13, that represented bad luck, an unconscious Streg rested on top of a neatly made and freshly blood stained bedcover with a grunt of pain and his dried blood proteins. The short club attack left a dull aching headache within his neurons. He opened both eyelids and saw a set of single and clear objects through the sliding glass doors of tall trees. He slowly sat upright with a folded body and sat back on top of the new set of tan colored bedcovers, reaching back, finding a lump of non-torn skin. He grunted several times without yelling or screaming in fury.

The prison door of solid metal opened in silence and revealed one of the escort soldiers, the one with the short club. He stood in the archway with a stern face. "Canto..."

"Can't..." The face looked down at the bedcovers and as, his finger probed for blood and cuts. He didn't find any cuts but bruises of constant pain which would subside in a few days.

He continued to stand in the archway with a smile and a chuckle. "Canto, my name is Canto."

"Can't..." Streg mouth spat the dry blood from a pair of busted lips, touching and pressing the wound for sensitivity.

He advanced into the tiny room and stopped near the foot of the twin mattress with a stern face to see the rear skull of Streg. "I am shocked with our fighting skills solider."

"Thanks." Streg slowly spun around on top of the bedcovers to see the solider with a stern face.

He moved ahead and sat down inside the oversized chair with a stern face at Streg. "The vicious gossip rumor going around and around each base camp is that you purposefully murdered the first ever female USA President of the United States. Honestly, I don't vote for the bitch. So, I am very pleased."

Streg exhaled with annoyance. "It was an accident."

He smiled with a nod while examining the body of Streg. "Hmm! Accident is a really good noun. Do you need a first aid kit? I am a med tech by second training. But I'm not going to help you. Anyways, you don't look hurt. Now, my two buddies are hurt from your angel flight without the wings. Where did you learn move like that, soldier?"

Streg continued to probe the body for any open wounds. "A farm boy during the summertime, I wanted to be a horse."

Canto laughed with a nod. "You almost made it." He exhaled. "Look! You passed. I don't think that I need to explain that statement."

Streg exhaled and continued to probe the body which was not injured but sore muscles and a few developing bruises. "Yeah..."

"Right now, and forever, no one will touch you. I promise. I'm in charge. I'm Canto. That's the only piece of information you will ever get from me."

"Do you know how long is?"

"Nope."

"Thanks."

He tapped the paper folder on the kneecap with a stern face, "I can't tattle much. But I should explain that this is a containment center within some city inside the US. The Center receives some of the nastiest soldiers within the armed forces. We are their first contact. Some made it. Some don't. And the some that don't make it, we don't give a shit."

"Thanks."

"You are different."

Streg frowned at Canto, "How so?"

"You followed an order and then..."

"Yeah..."

"Well, this is your new room and your new view." He stood upright from the oversized chair and moved ahead to the set of sliding glass doors, stopping and staring into the wild flowers and sand grains with a smile. "You're lucky, soldier. You have a true window view of the bay waters. It is wintertime here too. During the summertime, the flowers will bloom and smell pretty like a girl. I was told that you are harmless. Actually, I didn't believe it after hearing that a US military solider killed the first female president..."

"Yeah..."

He spun around with a smile to see Streg. "However, you defended your person like a survivor with a set of smart brains. This particular prison sees the vile of the vilest from the Coast Guard and Navy military armed forces. We are a special trained and talented team of soldiers that evaluate the vileness of each inmate. A set of four walls cannot hold inside a wild animal. Thus, the wild animal needs more freedom, if you know what I mean."

Streg laughed. "I believe so."

"You didn't act like a wild animal. Believe me! I've seen too many wild animals come through here. You acted like a trained solider with a set of good instincts. I have your service record. You're a good soldier, in the wrong spot."

"Amen!"

"I must say that you are really hated outside this set of four walls."

"An accident..."

Canto laughed. "Yeah, you're an accident. You can develop your own personal routine here inside the Center. No one will bother you. We all live on the other side of the building or in front of the office desk. Down your hallway, there is a wall of embedded joint prison cells without the flower garden. Each room is three feet thick concrete. But a wild animal likes to yell and piss in the wall corner. Across the way, there are three very large rooms, a fitness center with a set of free weights, an entertainment center with a television, and a room with tons of old boxes of shit. You can enjoy one room or all three rooms while we do not have another wild animal present. And the door stays locked for your protection. It only takes a split second and then the wild animal kills ya dead."

"Understood!"

"I don't want to say welcome. So, I will say sorry."

"Yeah!"

He pointed into the oversized chair with a smile. "We wear the set of green and tan fatigues as the warden. You get the wear a pair ripped comfortable blue jeans, a pair of sneakers, and a white shirt for the good guy. There is a pair of running shorts and a set of sweats for hanging around."

Streg laughed with a nod. "Thanks."

He moved ahead with a nod and stopped, standing in the archway, staring into the dark room with the stacks of boxes. "Look! I know that you hate your old friend, the military lawyer. But he did the best for you. No one loves you out there in the real world. No one cares about it in here. This is the best place for you, Streg. We all are sworn to protect the good people of the USA as the wild animal will continue to kill and then die..."

Streg swallowed back down the sissy bile from a tight throat. He knew that too but hearing the vocal words made the information truer. No one liked him for an accidental kill shot of the first female president. No one wanted to hear his side of the story either. He was mad at Kanab but he also respected Kanab. He exhaled with a sissy whine. "Thanks!"

Canto left the room and the door open.

Streg continued to sit on top of the bedcovers in painful bruises and numbing shock. His military career was gone. His life was gone. His days were long. Even if he was every released from the military prison, Streg didn't know where to go and what to do. He sat on top of the bedcovers without eating food, only pondering the deep thoughts. Then, he would occasionally use the toilet for a body function.

During the first week of prison, he strolled inside the tiny room in a set of completed circles and slowly cursed his bad luck, his military career, his good friend, his family members, his religion, and his everything. He felt trapped like a wild animal. Now, he deeply sympathized with the tiger behind the glass window inside the zoo that had been captured and contained against its strong will. He was that tiger now.

Streg had followed an order and shot the wrong person. No other sharp shooter could have saved the president and as each fired bullet could not reach the terrorist underneath the awing of the caboose train. Thus, the president was going to die by the knife to the throat from the terrorist. Streg had been the only hope for the president. However, no one wanted to see that or hear that or believe that impossible scenario. Everyone believed that he committed cold blooded murder. The terrorist swiftly moved backward from the president, exposing her face. Then Streg fired the bullet. The bullet hit her, not the terrorist.

Streg continued to replay the train scene inside his mind over and over again, eventually falling down over the top of the bedcovers in exhaustion.

During the second week of prison, he had accepted a fate of the permanently imprisonment with a little hope of freedom, one day, before he died as an eighty years old man. He felt safe also. There was actually a rotating shift of twenty soldiers who worked at tiny building. There was the day, the late afternoon, and the morning shift soldiers. The day shift was the most friendly and social. The second shift spent time working on the computers and arranged the travel plans and connections for the next inmate while the third shift of soldiers cleaned up the building space.

The first of the second week of his permanent prison term, Streg had been invited to eat breakfast with the first shift of soldiers. He eagerly accepted and was tickled to be included in the morning social event, since he didn't have a friend or a family member in prison, which was normal. During the breakfast meal inside the kitchen table, the food was good. The conversation was funny. The mood was happy.

However, Streg didn't feel happy. All the working soldiers lived with their family unit within the city and talked about their happy personal family life.

Streg felt unhappy and isolated. He wasn't married or a father of a child. Thank goodness! He would have been destroyed if he had a child and couldn't see that child grew into an adult while being inside a prison cell for the rest of his life.

During the lunchtime meal, Streg had been invited again and ate with the soldiers out of respect, feeling the same unhappy dark and sad emotions. During the dinnertime meal, the soldiers left the Center and were replaced with the second shift. Streg had been invited to dine with the second shift and was relieved.

The next day, Streg had ventured into the one of the three rooms which was across the hallway. He enjoyed the fitness room and worked out on all the different machines and the set of free weight, working up a smelly body just in time for breakfast bell. Thus, he nicely declined and ate his breakfast meal after all the dirty dishes were cleaned. His emotions could not take the happy talk from the gang of first shift soldiers. His life was not happy. He was trapped. He didn't blame any person, but it was hard to be happy for someone else, when his world couldn't change for the better. So, he had continued the workout fitness programs and ate all the meals alone inside his room or inside the kitchen.

In the middle of the week, the front door had opened with a solider escort and a group of strangers. Streg had ventured into the third room, the junk room. He flipped on the switch. The lights illuminated the darkness. The room was filled with wall to wall boxes. Some of the boxes were bent and dusty. He stomped forward into the archway.

"Streg!" Canto dashed down the hallway and stopped with a stern face, standing next to the nose profile of Streg. "You have some visitors."

Streg turned with a gasp to see Canto and narrowed both eyelids, looking down the semi-dark hallway, "Visitors?"

"Your family unit..."

"Mama!" Streg scooted around Canto with a smile and stopped, spinning around to see Canto with a grin. "Is it okay to see my parents?"

Canto flipped a hand with a nod. "Of course, solider, I ran all the way down here to fetch you. Your family unit is located inside the small office passed the entrance room which has a door and some chairs. You can close the door for privacy, too."

Streg nodded with a smile and spun around dashing down the hallway with a happy soul and a hum to see his family, "Thanks! I really appreciate it."

Canto exhaled with a stern face. "No, you want," he turned to see the storage room and reached up, slamming off the light switch, slowly spinning around and moved back down the hallway.

Inside the empty office setting, Streg ran down the hallway with a smile, through the entrance room, and slid to a halt, passing the closed door with nervous excitement. He hadn't visited home, since the Christmas holiday and ate the delicious turkey dinner with his family. It was near the end of the month of January. The first room was the first closed on the side wall. He reached out and opened the door, entering the room with a smile, stopping a few feet into the semi-empty room. The door slammed shut behind his ass. Streg stood in place with a smile.

His father stood behind the chair which held his mother. Her face was swollen and red stained with tears and as she hid the face with the pink colored handkerchief. His father held both hands on top of her collar bone like protection.

Streg smiled. "Hi..."

His older sister spun around from the window with a sneer at Streg, "We are here only to say one final good riddance..."

"Kuna!" His father snarled and then frowned at Streg. "Your sister Kuna is trying to say..."

Streg stared at his quiet mother with worry and a soft timber, "Mama..."

Kuna advanced ahead and turned, encircling around her tall brother Streg with a sneer. "Don't talk to her!"

His other sister Inkim paced back and forth behind the back spine of her father while staring at Streg with a sneer. "At home, our real home, we are being threatened with death. Death threats! They never stop. They never end. We had to disconnect all the cell phones. They burnt the front lawn. They burnt the back lawn. They killed the mailbox. They killed the dog..."

His father said. "We are being forced into the US government eye witness protection program, Streg."

Streg gasped. "What? Why?"

Kuna encircled her bother with a sneer. "Because of you, you killed the president. We have been threatened with death, since that day. A hanging off the rafter of the court house. A firing squad of rebels. A burning stack with tree limbs..."

Streg softly said with a worried brow. "I am sorry."

Inkim stopped pacing behind the back spine of her father and stood in front of the clean window, jabbing a finger at Streg. "You are sorry. Why did you kill her?"

"I followed an order..."

His father gasped. "A military order was given to kill the president of the United States."

Streg lifted both arms with a confused frown. "No, I was ordered to kill the terrorist. She..."

"...is dead. Now, we are all hunted like witches. You have to flee our hometown, our friends, our neighbors, our family members. I am divorced now. My husband divorced me."

Streg softly said with a sad face. "I am so sorry..."

His father turned and stared at the walls. "What is this place?"

Streg softly said. "It is a ..."

"...jail for killers." Kuna sneered. "You are a killer. You are not part of our family anymore. We are moving to another city far way from here and changing our names. You will never find us. You will never look for us."

Inkim jabbed a finger at her brother Streg with a sneer. "Are you listening to me? We have to leave all our personal possessions behind. Our house is burning, Streg. We left right behind the rebels invaded and set fire to our home, our house. We left out of there with only those clothes on our back. Let's go, Dad! We can only stay a few minutes," she looked down at her designer watch with a sour frown.

Kuna spun around and moved ahead to the closed door. "Good ridden, brother! Don't call us ever!"

His father leaned down and assisted his wife from the chair to stand. His wife leaned into his chest, slowly moving ahead toward the closed door. His father leaned down with a whisper and a stern face into her eardrum. "It is time. We must leave and go to our home in a new city." His wife did not talk but continued to wipe off the tears from a red swollen face.

Streg stood in place with a sigh of deep sadness, "Mama..."

His mother continued to move ahead without viewing her only son with a set of tears inside her eyelashes and as her hand continued to wipe off the tears from each eye socket without words and soft sobs.

Kuna opened the door and moved ahead, exiting the room, leading the member unit back toward the front door inside the Center in silence with a lady sneer. His mother followed behind her daughter with a set of tears and sobs without a single word to Streg. His father continued to shove his wife toward the door without viewing his only son with a pair of eyeballs or a single word of encouragement also.

Inkim moved ahead with a sneer toward the open archway. "I hope you die here in unhappiness," she exited the room and dashed toward the front door, leaving the Center with her family.

Streg stood in place in silence, feeling the hot tears of sadness. The tears rolled down his face. He stood in numbness. His mother didn't kiss his cheekbone or say hello to him. The gang of soldiers didn't bother him inside the small office room. After a few minutes, he slowly turned and moved back down the hallway, barely seeing the floor through the set of blurry tears. He entered back into the six feet by six feet prison cell for the rest of the week.

During the third week of prison, he accepted the rejection and the hate from his family. Actually, he didn't think about it. The mind was a fascinating organ. If Streg didn't think about his family, then he didn't feel sad.

His family was safe and far away from the gang of crazy American rebels from his hometown. His family would adjust and live a normal life, without his presence and danger. A witness inside the government protection program was very successful with a new life for any person or family.

Inside the military prison, Streg did not feel like socializing with the gang of soldiers or eating very lightly. So, his stomach was connected to his heart. The thoughts of food made his stomach turn. He turned the chair to the side and would it inside the chair for hours, looking to the outside through the set of sliding glass doors at the flying wildlife and the dead meadow. He found the window view peaceful and non-changing. He liked the idea of nothing changing. His life had changed too swiftly into destruction.

One month later, on July 1st, three days, before the Fourth of July holiday, on  
Sunday, which was Lord's Day, at 08:01 am, of a blistering heated morning, sitting inside his boring prison cell, Streg was reading a new science fiction novel. He enjoyed reading a book, feeling the leather, touching the pages, not seeing the action on the television screen. He started reading the science fiction novels over the action novels, enjoying the pretend universe of bad guys versus good gals. The action novel reminded him of his days in the military branch.

The door swung opened and revealed the prison warden Canto. Canto exhaled with annoyance and thumbed back over his collar bone, "Streg, you got a visitor. So, get pretty and mine your southern boy manners."

Streg looked up and frowned at Canto. But Canto had back stepped from the open archway, marching back down towards the lobby area. Streg stood upright from the cushions and dropped the paperback down into the curvy seat, stretching his limbs, dropping both of his arms down by his side. He slowly exited out from his private prison room with a delightful hop accepting his permanently residence at the prison military base. Canto sometimes invited Streg for a lunch meal to discuss the old times in the Guard. He moved down an empty hallway and turned the wall corner, viewing the reception area, seeing a woman.

The woman wore a designer business suite in pretty tan hue and presented a plastic surgery facelift on an older than dirt pale tinted exterior skin. She was one of the popular politicians in the USA Congress standing inside a prison camp. She smiled and nodded to Streg.

Streg frowned at the familiar nasty politician and turned to see Canto. Canto continued to sneer and stared down at her faked brown tinted hair roots.

She smiled and spun around, moving back to the open archway. "This one will be nicely. Come with me, soldier!"

Streg returned back from Canto and growled at the back spine on the nasty politician, "My name is..."

She padded towards the open door that held two guards and shouted out loud back at the soldier. "A name is not important."

"Canto!" Streg whined to his friend and the prison ward.

Canto sneered at the back spine on the familiar female politician. "You are her new assignment, Streg. Follow the work rules! Do not break the work rules for reason!

Streg returned back and exhaled with annoyance, slowly followed behind the woman and stopped beside the closed door on a parked white colored limousine and smiled with a whisper. "It is always black or back or rear." The guard opened the door and nodded to Streg.

Streg folded down and slid over the matching leather seat, beside the female politician, viewing the two other unknown individuals. The male was extremely tall and wide, not fat but muscular, wearing a smile, nodding to Streg in silence. The female was tall and slender, wearing a head of red colored long hair, sneering at the female politician, while ignoring Streg.

I feel the same way, honey!

The interior of the shiny, clean limousine was tan colored leather with a mini-refrigerator unit located in the corner of the opposite side door, a closed moon roof that emitted tons of bright sunlight down into the center of the plush tan colored carpet, which was replaced each year from fading.

The rear limousine door slammed shut by one of her US federal employees. The limousine started to drive away from the prison military base. On the shared bench seat with the politician, Streg turned and sneered at the nose profile on the female politician, who continued to dart her eyeball to each new employee. He growled. "What the hell is going on here?"

The female politician pointed to each person with a wicked grin. "Welcome, Soldier! You are now part of my new gang, with a new name, with all capital letters for power, ZGUYS." She laughed and clapped with delight. Then, her personal mobile telephone sounded with a classic musical tone. She looked down, read the new text message, and then answered with her own new text message.

The United States Coast Guard is one of the US military branches that is was operated by the USA Department of Homeland Security, working as an independent force. However, in times of war or presidential battle decisions, the USA Coast Guard force falls under the jurisdiction of the USA Navy armed forces.

The Aviation Training Center, in the city of Mobile, is one of the major flight facilities that guards the central part of the USA. The other three flight facilities are located on the coastal areas of the United States of America.

Each military mission for the US Coast Guard branch is primarily nautical using the gigantic Hercules airplanes, including maritime law enforcement, marine environmental protection, aids to navigation, and ports, and waterways and coastal security. But any search and rescue operation can be conducted anywhere within America, including numerous inland activities, such like, ice patrolling, oil spill investigations, and illegal immigrant actions. Otherwise, the military base is flight ready at a moment's notice to defend and fight for the American people, the American president, and the great United States of America.

Yeehaw!

The Center was established and housed the powerful HH 52 A aircraft providing training to new pilots and maintenance facilities, in the year 1963, 20 miles from Mobile Bay. Currently, the Center supports military troops and civilian personnel offices and family members, including office buildings, community centers, restaurants, basketball courts, fitness clubs, health clinics, and dental offices. That was the active and fun military base for all active and employed USA Coast Guard soldiers.

Streg was not an active or employed military soldier and lived for the rest of his at the USA Coast Guard Administration Building. The Administration complex held four individual buildings, which was connected by a concrete overhang and two walls of closely space cider blocks blocking out most of the falling raindrops and beams of bright sunshine on each person.

The largest building was designed like the alphabetic letter L, in dull tan hue, and held all of the numerous military offices for the Coast Guard branch. At the end of the L-shaped design, a tiny square-shaped, air-conditioned building, without a single glass windows lodged a set of military police officers, who were responsible for escorting each military prisoner around the administration campus. From the guard house without windows, the last square-shaped building on the overhang unit housed the Coast Guard military court room, a Coast Guard military judge, a set of individual prisoner cells, and an array of tiny private offices for the judge and his crew of Coast Guard military staff. In the middle of the L-shaped building, in the same tan colored hue, a small horizontal building blocked some of the glass windows and retained a set of military vicious prisoners, who were not housed at the military base for some special reason that only the current prisoner warden knew. On three sides of the small building, the cider blocks were solid tan hue, except for the four exterior walls. The long rear wall exhibited a row of ceiling-to-floor glass windows which viewed an island less than one mile even with the horizon. The Port of Mobile McDuffie Island housed cargo ships, big cranes, and small office buildings on the other side of the true island landmass.

Every day, since June, the first, Streg rested inside his permanent prison cell and viewed the clean glass windows, showing off the twinkling, glittering gently fresh water waves from the named Mobile Bay, without walking over the sandy dirt with a pair of naked feet or touching the warm water with one or both of his hands. That was his permanent punishment for his wicked deed, until his finally death day. Now, his death day seemed like an upcoming reality while still sneering at the crafty ancient woman, who had somehow twisted one of the higher military leaders and released or leased Streg into her civil services for some mysterious reason.

The limousine smoothly rolled onto the main highway leading in a southern direction away from the Coast Guard Administration building, which was strange.

The Aviation Training Center was located 20 miles due west from Mobile Bay and the Coast Guard Administration Building. However, the location of Interstate 65 was also located west of the Administration Building, which meant Streg and the two other unfortune individuals were living the city of Mobile.

Streg was very familiar with the city of Mobile as he was a native Mobilian. After the conviction of his wicked crime, Streg was sentenced to live the rest of his life back in his home town, remembering the old goods as a young kid, a rebel teen, and a lousy high schooler. He didn't make a set of good grades for the college scene, so he enlisted into the USA Army, preparing his teen self into a responsible man.

At 08:11 am, with a heated morning, in the tan colored limousine, inside the rear compartment, Streg wiggled with worry and continued to stare with a stern face, ignoring the two unknown individuals, at the familiar wrinkled face on the old lady senator, who served the people of Alabama in the United States Senate, before Streg was birthed into this world. He growled. "Now, I am here sitting inside an air-conditioned limousine in the blasting heat in the month of June. What the meaning of the words, Zguys?"

She flipped her hand into the air and continued to smile down at the tiny screen on her mobile telephone, trying to address the silly question with a silly response. "I don't know. The letter Z is for zoom or zone or zome or ..."

"... zombie ..." Streg laughed out loud with the unknown male, not the unknown female, who continued to snarl at the old senator. He frowned. "What is my mission here as a member of the Zguys and gal, senator?"

She wiggled sideways with some nervousness after collecting the three murderers, but she needed their particular skills in completing her goal. She continued to fiddle with her personal mobile telephone with ignoring her three new employees. "I ask the questions. You answer the questions, not the opposite."

He smiled. "Who are you?" Streg knew the identity of the ancient, popular, greedy, wealthy rude-less, and ugly lady."

"I am not important."

He chuckled. "I don't think your voters will like that statement, senator."

She looked up and grinned at Streg. "I am called Lady Senator to you and you and you. Right now, you are my employees. And I am the judge, juror and executor of justice." She looked back down and fiddled with her personal mobile telephone.

He stared down at the colored brown tinted hair roots that did not cover up all of her gray hair stands while sneering at the woman. "I don't think your voters will like that statement, Lady Senator."

She laughed and continued to fiddle with the phone. "My people love me. My State loves me. My peers love me." He gasped in shock. She looked up and stared out the glass window with a smile. "We are almost at our rendezvous point. Once we arrive, I will explain the mission."

Streg gasped in alarm and turned to the side wall, viewing the buildings. The limousine continued driving south on South Water Street. He was clueless to the mission, angry at the senator, and worried about the two unknown individuals. He returned back and studied the male first. The extremely large male didn't speak or grunt, only continued smiling at the senator. The smaller female continued to sneer at the senator and held her cupped hand onto the forearm on the extremely tall and wide male, like she was calming down his nerves. Streg exhaled with worry and returned back to view the glass window, seeing South Warren Street. The limousine ride had been sweet and short, traveling 1.2 miles from the Coast Guard Administration building.

The vehicle stopped in front of the old peach colored concrete building without killing the engine and parked behind a short, white tinted refrigerated cargo truck.

Streg continued to study the grassy park and frowned at the side glass window. "What are we doing in front of a dog park? This is a park for kids, dogs, and single couples, who wanna munch on a lunch. Did you bring the lunch picnic basket? Because I don't see a cute doggie inside your lap. This is British Park. O! The name sounds similar to your last..."

She screamed at Streg. "Shut up!" An army of Black Suits appeared and surrounded the tan colored limousine, opening each rear door for all of the occupants. The senator scooted towards the open door and orders. "We are here. Shut up and get out! I am the queen bee boss. You are my three worker bee employees." She exited the automobile and slowly scooted around the rear bumper, standing on top of the vanilla colored sideway, smiling at the rear end of the truck.

The unknown young adult female released the hand of her friend or fiancé, scooting from the bench seat first, standing upright, sliding sideways beside the tan paint on the vehicle and then watched her friend. The extremely tall and wide male slowly moved from the limousine, standing upright beside his female friend, nodding with a smile to each federal employee. They did not move or grunt or talk from the city street.

Streg continued to sit inside the limousine and exhaled with annoyance at the new situation. He had been comfortable inside his glass coated prisoner cell watching the flying seagulls and rolling cargo ships. Now, he was employed by a dirty, greedy politician, who only wanted money and power.

The closest federal government employees leaned down and stared at Streg. "Get outta of the car, sir!" He continued to lean down and stared at the young adult male.

Streg exhaled with annoyance but intrigue. He was clueless with his new mission and slowly scooted over the fine leather seat, standing upright on top of the vanilla concrete sidewalk, in silence, observing the new situation. The British Park consisted of flat green tinted grass blades and scattered cozy picnic tables for eating. The grassy area was surrounded by a tall black tinted iron gate for the dog lovers, who ran their mutt or thorough breed canine over the flat grass, until both were exhausted.

Streg was positive that the running, refrigerated small cargo truck had something connected his new civilian mission, since he was not a USA military soldier, but he had not figured out the role of the two unfamiliar individuals. Once he was away from the greedy senator and her army of Black Suits, Streg was running away from the mission and the two unknown individuals, escaping from his prison cell. He could find a way to one of the Caribbean islands living the rest of his days in the heated sun, slipping on cold beer. As a fugitive from the USA, he only needed a hut on the sand and cold beer for the rest of his life as a free man.

Streg smiled at the object which was his new getaway vehicle. "What is that?"

"That is a truck." The senator pointed at the truck and nodded with a smile. "Your new assignment is to drive this truck from Mobile to the city of Atlanta, within the US State of Georgia."

Streg turned and stared at the truck, shouting out loud with confusion. "That road trip is five hours less ten minutes starting from here in Mobile, senator."

She growled at Streg for using the wrong name, "I am called Lady Senator! But I picked the right man. Yes, you are correct. The one-way trip is 328 miles north by northeast direction. Now, you will wear a uniform and drive below the speed limit, without speeding in record time towards the city of Atlanta."

He looked up and shaded his eyeballs at the sunlight. "The time is after eight o'clock in the morning." Streg returned back and frowned at the senator. "That's means. We hit the city limits of Atlanta at before one o'clock or so, driving the speed limit all the way while stopping a few times for gasoline that feeds the truck. What's inside the rear compartment, senator?"

She shook her fake colored brown hair strands on her seventy-year old body with a fresh facelift at Streg. "I am called Lady Senator. That is not a worry for your current assignment. You are to drive the speed limit, without getting a traffic ticket, traveling from Mobile to Atlanta. Stop and eat the breakfast meal, the lunch meal, a mid-afternoon snack, and the supper meal. You cannot arrive to your destination in Atlanta until eight o'clock pm, at night, during the nighttime hours."

He frowned. "Eight o'clock, the sun falls down around that time."

She winked at Streg. "Yes, I did pick out the right man. Yes, that is correct. The sun falls down and the truck lands at its final destination, right after dusk. That is your assignment. So, get started with the short trip and enjoy your day. Hand them a uniform and a tote bag! You are to wear the uniform, tee shirt, socks, and work boots. Take the package and slip on the uniform! Place all of your personal clothes inside the tote bag and return back to me!" Three of the Black Suits slowly scooted around the sidewalk passing out the items to three employees.

Streg frowned. "What is the purpose of our assignment, senator?"

"I am called Lady Senator. That is not a worry for your current assignment. Go and get dressed!" Senator sneered at the nose profile on Streg.

The unknown, slender, average height, young adult female and the extremely tall and wide young adult male accepted the two items with a head nod, in silence, moving ahead from the automobile, pacing towards the building which held a set of public bathrooms for the females and the males, who visited the park during the visiting hours of daylight. At night the park was closed to robbers, thieves, homeless people, and Mobilians.

Streg exhaled with annoyance and accepted the package, spinning around, moving towards the front of the cab. A wall of Black Suits blocked the pathway of Streg and pulled out a hand gun. Streg had his answer. This assignment was not optional, only dangerous.

The middle Black Suit didn't point at hand gun at Streg but asked. "What are you doing, sir?"

Streg laughed. "O! You're a cute female. I have noted your voice and your face, sweetheart. I'm going to change my clothes inside the rear compartment of the truck."

She pointed towards the bathroom building using her flat monotone. "Please stay away from the rear compartment of the truck, which this locked and bolted for its protection! You must use the public bathroom building, sir!"

He frowned. "Use the public bathroom with all of that fresh and stinky male piss!"

She didn't move her finger but continued to point at the squat, white colored building, "Use the public bathroom building and change your clothes, sir!"

"Yes, sweetheart! I'm moving ahead and pacing to the public bathroom, Men's only. Thank you, honey! I'm grateful, darling!" He spun around and then moved ahead towards the building, encountering the unknown couple. The male nodded with a smile. The female didn't bother viewing Streg, focusing on the senator, sneering with her stride.

Streg chuckled out loud and then whispered for his eardrums only. "Wait for me, honey! You attack first and kill the senator. Then, I'll take out the rest of the Black Suits. Or at least, I'll die trying. I wonder, if the big guy has some aggressive energy that he wants to blow off," he laughed out loud with his new violent plan and entered the building, moving towards the Men's Bathroom, quickly changing out of his regular prisoner clothes.

A few minutes later, at 08:23 am, Streg exited out from the public bathroom facility and turned to survey the park interior, which was empty of both humans and dogs. The weather was blistering heated and hot making his body sweat in the loose one-piece jumpsuit in dull tan hue. The ocean water was comfortably warm. All of the free people or non-workers were lounging at the sandy beach, eating handfuls of fresh seafood, swimming in the warm ocean waters, boating on the Gulf of Mexico waters or fishing on the ocean waters. However, he was here and stopped, standing in front of the senator and -her army of Black Suits.

The mysterious couple has disappeared from the vanilla sidewalk and entered the cab of the truck. All four of the doors were opened for the last prisoner...passenger."

The senator sneered at Streg. "Get going!"

He nodded with a fake smile. "Yes, ma'am!" Streg moved ahead towards the driver's seat and then skidded to a halt, spinning around, lifting both of his arms in the air. He nodded with a sweet smile back to the senator, "I forgot. I need..." One of the Black Suits moved ahead and extended a clothed arm, handing the item to Streg. Streg accepted the item studying his face on his personal driver's license, looking up with a grin. "I need a mobile telephone to..."

"...no communication is needed back to me. The trip is 328 miles from the city of Mobile to the city of Atlanta within the US State of Georgia. You will drive below the speed limit. Do not break the law! Else, I will break something on you. I know the road trip is four hours and thirty minutes of time. So, you and your new crew take your time driving on the wild interstate, stop for gasoline, run the air-conditioning unit, take a coffee break, eat a meal, take a sweet tea break and eat a snack, go the bathroom. So, take your time! I repeat for both of your eardrums. Take your time! This is one of the blasting days of summer. The night drops at eight o'clock. You don't need to arrive at the final destination until darkly dusk, not sunny, daylight hours. Do you understand me, soldier?"

Streg growled with annoyance at her ego and stored his personal Alabama driver's license down into the chest pockets. "What happens if I get a flat tire or something else mechanic on the truck?"

"The truck is the newest state of the art machine. And there is a chest of tools underneath the rear bench seat, in case of an emergency. This is the reason for selecting two men and one female. A female is useless. I should know."

"Where do we sleep the night? Do I rent a roach motel room with your money, senator?"

"I am called Lady Senator." She sneered at the man, but Streg knew that as he continued to annoy his new employer for fun. She growled. "No. Do not rent a nasty roach infected motel room! There is plenty of room inside the cabin of that new truck. This truck contains a long rear bench seat for the large male. And each captain chair is oversized for sleeping comfort. You can use the cash money to buy a blanket and a pillow but keep all of the paper receipts. I need to write off the items from my government checking account," she laughed.

He exhaled with annoyance at her arrogant. "Yes, ma'am!" Streg sharply spun around while softly cursing at the old woman, taking one step.

"Soldier!" She called out the fake name to piss Streg off.

He spun around and faked a smile back to the witch. "Yes ma'am!"

She nodded with a smile and slowly paced towards his upright body. "The final destination instructions are located in the glove box along with an envelope of cash money. I know how much cash money is in the envelop also. You can steal the money, but you do not have a place to hide. So, enjoy your day trip and take your time!" The senator stopped with a sneer and stood shorter than a taller Streg, leaning into his muscular chest, softly whispering her final only to him. "I know, like you know, only one person is needed for this simple driving assignment. You are the assignment. But I thought some companionship would provide a more pleasant trip. Now, if you somehow or someway or at some point double cross me and escape with my cargo or my cash money or my truck, then I will locate and execute your two crew mates, on sight. They are not battle trained, like you, they will not survive on the land, like you. So, I will not have any trouble as they are both in grave trouble with the police department. The police department would lovely enjoy eliminating them, for me," she laughed out loud and spun around, pacing back to her federal government paid limousine, folding down at her thick waistline and leaned away from the rooftop, sliding back down into bench seat. One of her employees closed the limousine door and stood upright, nodding with a smile to Streg.

Streg gasped in alarm at the bodily death threat to the unknown couple plus his personal body, exhaling with annoyance at Senator Reed Cathy "Red Coat" British and her army of paid Black Suits, spinning around, sneering while cursing at the witch. He entered the passenger side of the truck, since the driver's door was closed, loading into the passenger side, closing the door.

Inside the cabin of the limousine, the highly paid security protection guard who was the responsible chauffeur watched Streg, commenting to his employer. "That soldier is going to become a problem for us, Senator."

In the rear compartment, on top of the leather bench seat, the senator fiddled with her phone working on the next problem, exhaling with annoyance. "I do not believe so. He lacks resources, not imagination. Imagination is fine and dandy and filled with fluffy thoughts, not with angry words, loud sounds or physical actions. Streg knows, like I know, he is a toasted slice of bread, if he messes up this assignment or any of his new assignments, while working for me. He is disposable at a moment's notice. But you continue to spy and watch his all of moves. If he tries to cause trouble, then I will grant you permission to eliminate him and his two new friends,' she laughed with the chauffeur.

At 08:33 am, inside the truck cab, the unnamed female started the engine and allowed the motor to warm, double checking all of the lights on the dashboard for any trouble, "I'm driving."

"Okay!" Streg nodded with a smile as she was already breaking the first rule from Lady Senator. Driving a vehicle, without a state-issued driver's license. The senator would never allow each one of her new workers bees to possess a driver's license, else each worker bee could run and hide someplace else. Streg liked the young adult female's courage and boldness.

The extremely tall and wide male sat in the middle of the rear bench seat and leaned down, fiddling with a black tinted chest while humming a familiar country song without bothering the female or the second male.

At 08:34 am, the unnamed and unknown female driver carefully steered the truck leaving the park, driving down the main highway, blending into the traffic.

Streg leaned over and opened the glove compartment drawer, seeing and grabbed the two items. "She told me the glove compartment interior walls contained treasure. One item, the driving instructions to the Atlanta Warehouse Building, number 189, where we dump off the hidden and secret cargo, and the second item is a fat envelope of cash money." He opened the white tinted envelope and quickly counted the cash. "I would estimate there is three thousand dollars here inside this envelop in the dominations of twenties."

She gasped in shock and continued to drive with the flow of traffic. "The senator is careless with her treasure grove. We should use the cash and escape from Mobile, instead of driving to Atlanta."

He returned both items back into the glove compartment box for safety, slamming the draw shut. "Now, if you were dumb enough to commit a drive and then dumb enough to get caught with the same crime, then you are smart enough to know why that plan of action will not work out for all of us." Streg laughed.

She gasped in alarm. "Are we being tailed by the Black Suits?"

He checked each rear view mirror and smiled. "Let's find out! Pull into any one of the busy fast food restaurants and order me a tall cup of sweet tea. Park behind the restaurant, so we can quarry our prey, on sight," he laughed. She slowed the truck and used the turning signal devise, pulling into the parking lot, stopping in the rear of the building. She did not exit the truck but watched the traffic, the people, and the roadway.

Streg scanned the cars, the traffic, the people, and the parking lot, opening the door, sliding down from the truck, heading towards the restaurant with some of the cash money. He did not see another vehicle follow the truck into the restaurant parking lot or another vehicle stop and then park beside the gas station building beside the restaurant either. He entered the restaurant, waited his turn while scanning the traffic and the people, finally purchasing three beverages for him and his two new friends. He exited the building while still scanning the area for a tail and moved back to the truck, entering back into the passenger seat. He distributed the two cold beverages and commented back to the driver. "O! We are all supposed to keep all paper receipts, so the senator can write off the expense with the taxpayer's monies, of course. I did not see another vehicle following us. What did you see after I went into the restaurant?"

She accepted the beverage and nodded with a stern face. "Thank you for the sweet tea beverage! I have not seen any suspicious activity in the parking lot, near the restaurant or the gas station beside the restaurant or a stranger hanging around his car, who might have been watching or spying on us or the truck. Each car driver is busy trying to get to work or to school or to home or to the beach. I do believe that we are cleared for a lonely road trip to Atlanta." She slipped the cold beverage and placed down into the car holder, fiddling with the gears on the truck.

"I agree. We are not being tailed by one of her paid Black Suits, but the senator was not kind with her threats of punishment, if we all decide to escape and runaway with her cash money and her truck," he chuckled with amusement. "I suspect that she has dirt on me that will result in some bad karma for her and a cold stillness for me, within her lifetime," he laughed out loud without actually mentioning the death threat on the unnamed female and male, who did not seem like a married or dating couple. He was raised to honor all life forms including animals in the great State of Alabama first. He was an American soldier second and took an oath to protect all Americans, including these two strangers from the vile and vicious Senator British, who was probably a British spy for the country of England.

He sipped the sweet tea and then smiled at the roadway. "So, I do believe this is the first stop of many stops before reaching the Warehouse Number 189. I'm ready to move." Streg slipped the cold liquid and glanced back viewing the large male, who was sipping the cold beverage in silence. He turned back and studied the row of tall or short or glass or cider coated buildings. The driver nodded in silence and carefully steered the truck from the fast food restaurant, blending into the flowing traffic. He continued to study the building and asked. "Do you know the roadway to the city of Atlanta?"

She sipped and then swallowed the beverage driving with one hand the truck. "I have never visited the city of Atlanta or the US State of Georgia. But I'm traveling west on Interstate 10 from the dog park and then turning north, traveling onto Interstate 65."

He said. "We travel on Interstate 65 until hitting Interstate 20, which will fly us directly towards the city of Atlanta. It is two hours and fifteen minutes, until we hit the city of Montgomery, in the lower half of the state. From the city of Montgomery, it is 90-minute ride to the city of Birmingham, which is in the middle of the state, and which we detour around the city and take Interstate 20. Then, another 90-minute ride, we will arrive into the outskirts of Atlanta, which lands us in the city of Atlanta around five hours and twenty-five minutes driving at 60 miles-per-hour plus pit stops and potty breaks and snack alerts. This is an easy assignment!"

"Yeah!" She finished the tea. "Tell me when you wanna stop again for a potty break or a plate of hot or cold food!"

"Okay!"

She veered the truck from Interstate 10 into Interstate 65 flowing with traffic. The interior cab was quiet and cold from the air-conditioning unit. Several miles down the interstate, she cleared her throat and asked. "What happened to you creating this situation with me?'

He laughed. "I could ask you the same question."

"I asked you first."

He smiled and pulled out his driver's license. "What happened to me creating this situation with you? You don't have a driver's seat for driving this truck. You need one. Here!" He handed her the item.

She accepted the item and looked down at the name on the license, gasping his shock, slamming on the brakes, releasing the brakes and tossed the driver's license down on the floor. She grabbed the steering column and gasped in shallow breathes of fright and fear and horror, staring at the roadway while controlling the truck movement. "You're the You're the..."

"...guy..." he laughed out loud and stared at the same roadway with little traffic. Streg was used to the reaction after murdering the first female President of the United States six months ago.

She exhaled and then inhaled deep breathes while controlling her thoughts, actions, and the movement of the truck. "Why? Why did you do it?"

He smiled. "I didn't, do it."

She frowned. "You did, do it."

"I didn't mean to do it."

She nodded. "Okay! Why did you didn't mean to do it?" What happened to her? What happened to you?"

He smiled. "Thank you for asking about me and not her."

She nodded. "I didn't vote for her, so I didn't really care. Not that I am for murder and violence."

"Really! How is it that you are here with me, an assassin, inside nice air-conditioned truck?" He chuckled.

She continued to drive with a sour frown. "Fine! Don't tell me! I was pasting the time, since we are together for hours and hours and hours and hours. Where are we supposed to sleep the night, after our final destination and delivery of the mysterious cargo? What do you think is inside the compartment?"

"I don't know either. But I hope it ain't explosives, which are illegal and can blew this truck and us to kingdom come. Yes, I did ask that question about a nightly motel room with her cash monies, since she seemed more interested in her truck of hidden goodies rather than our comforts. She said to bump down inside the truck. There is plenty of room inside the new truck, within each oversized captain chairs and plenty of money for food and blankets and other necessaries. But you need to keep the paper receipts," he laughed.

"She's a lovely bitch!"

He laughed again. "I couldn't say it better myself." Streg exhaled with disappointment. "I was assigned on top of the high rise building and watched the new first female President of the United States through my rifle scope for an attacker. Then, the terrorist showed up on my side of the scope range. I targeted the right eyeball on the terrorist and then received the command to fire. The terrorist shifted the president over his right eyeball, so my fired and flying bullet hit her right eyeball instead, going through her bone skull, hitting the middle of his forehead next, slamming into the rear wall on the caboose. The bullet made a great big hole in the caboose wall and then went through a couple of more train walls, before stopping in the wall or down on the train floor. The bullet speed and impact instantly killed both of them."

"So sad!" She continued to drive and nodded with sympathy.

"So bad! I was arrested, trialed, convicted, and sentenced the next day, all at the same time, from the military court. I had been serving a life sentence at the Coast Guard Administration building."

She continued to drive below the speed limit using the cruise control down a lonely interstate roadway. The truck had cleared the city limits and was cruising through the rural parts of Alabama with tree-lined roads, a wide pale blue sky without clouds on a heated day in the month of summer. "Uh! That's a weird place for a prison facility."

He stared at the roadway and told his demon tale to the unnamed and unknown female driver. "Yeah, it's a unique place for a prisoner. But the lousy leaders of our great country were afraid to place me inside a regular civilian or military jail cell, where I could incite a vicious rebellion against the reigning leaders of our US Federal Government officials. Half of our fellow countrymen and women did not vote for the first female President of the United States. When I had accidentally, not purposefully, murdered the madam president, half of the country celebrated with fireworks coming from armed weapons. The other half demanded my severed head on a fake silver tinted serving tray to parade around the city streets, which did not happen. I mean it was an accident. I got the bad guy and the badder gal," he laughed as he did not vote for the first female president either. "So, the leaders placed me there on an armed military installation, where no other person or human or soldier or animal or crazy or nutjob could touch or harm or bother me for the rest of my day and nights. I was located inside a small building that overlooked Mobile Bay, where I can't walk over the soft sands or touch the warm fresh water, which was more punishment reminding me of my lack of freedom."

She nodded with a stern face. "I remembered the joyful celebration throughout the country from the half of the happy countrymen and women, including me, and all of the gossipy, juicy scandals that you were a plant and the boy for the male vice president, who instantly become the new President of the United States, the most powerful man on the planet. Then, in a bizarre case of crime, the new male President of the United States was caught up in bribes, money laundering, baby stealing, sedition and treason. Half of the country demanded his arrest and then his personal execution by hanging off the second balcony of the White House. I admit I wonder, if any of his lasting red tinted blood protein stains will every come off the wooden railing or that wooden porch," she laughed. "I didn't care as I didn't vote for that party either."

He exhaled with great disappointment. "My family denied me. My friends left me. My military soldiers refused me. I don't have a wife or family or a girlfriend. That was convenient, for me. I was labeled a prisoner, not a traitor. The title of traitor gets a new neckline, like the former and dead recent guilty male President of the United States, because half of my fellow countrymen and women was very happy. Now, the country is in good hands," he laughed out loud with her.

She said. "I am so sorry about your treatment, Streg."

"This is not your life."

"This is my life."

"Pardon me!"

She exhaled with a puff of sour breaths. "Well, you don't have to guess too many times here. I have had a terrible encounter also. Else, I would be sitting here, driving a truck with a haul of mysterious cargo out of the state of Alabama into the state of Georgia while talking to an assassin," she laughed with Streg.

He turned and smiled at her nose profile, warmingly welcoming another convict on the road trip, "What did you do?"

She exhaled with nervousness, not from tattling, but recalling the incident of crime. "What did I do?"

"Ikko!" The extremely tall and wide young adult male called out to the female driver and stared down into the metal chest.

"Yes, Julius! Do you have a question?" The female driver was named Ikko and continued to steer the truck down an empty interstate roadway.

"What is this thing?"

"I am sorry, Julius. I cannot look at _that_ thing, right now."

"It looks like a tiny dolly. Why is a tiny dolly in here?" Julius continued to stare and pointed down inside the metal chest.

Streg spun around and gasped in shock, viewing a stationary, opened metal chest, in front of Julius. Streg started feeling very worried, calmly stating back to Ikko. "Uh, Ikko! Your friend is pointing down at a metal box, which is sweating in water. Where did you get that chest, buddy?"

Ikko gasped in alarm and continued to calmly drive the truck. "Where did you get that chest, Julius?"

Julius continued to point down and stared inside the open metal box. "I grabbed the chest from the back of the truck."

Streg exhaled with worry and calmly questioned the obviously slow-thinking young adult male. "Okay, Julius! Was the chest located outside the truck on the ground, buddy?"

"No." Julius continued to point and stared down into the open chest.

"Was the chest located inside the truck cabin, buddy?"

"No."

"Was the chest located underneath the belly of the truck, buddy?"

"No."

Streg was becoming both nervous and scared with the negative answers from the massive young male, swallowing the bitter bile back down his tight throat, asking with a soft voice. "Did you find that chest behind that closed door, buddy?"

Julius looked up and smiled at Streg. "Yes."

He gasped in alarm and faked a smile at Julius, "Ikko, please slowly pull over off the interstate and then into a gas station for some gasoline. We will fill the tank and replace that sweaty metal box back into the rear compartment inside this truck."

"Yes." She gritted her teeth and flipped on the steering column blinker, notifying the cars behind the truck of the turn, carefully exiting the interstate. She stopped at the stop sign and carefully looked for on-coming cars, finding a clear country roadway and turned onto the new road, steering a few more yards down the street. She pulled into a gas station and stopped at the gas pump, like the truck needed gasoline while faking the problem with any and all spies from Senator British. She killed the engine and exhaled with worry.

Streg returned back and opened the glove compartment grabbing a wad of cash money, "I'll go and pay in cash for the gasoline. And I'll pick up a sack of junk food and beverages for the rest our trip. Why didn't you find out how he was able to get that chest out from the rear compartment?" He opened the door without panic, even though his inners were fluttering with a death act on his body as he was responsible for the secret cargo. He slid off the seat standing on top of the smooth concrete, exhaling with worry. He slowly moved ahead giving Ikko time to work her friend and understand the incident, entering the store with a fake smile of worry.

"Yes," she spun around and faked a smile to her long-time friend. "Julius, I like your metal case. You mentioned that you find that chest behind that closed door. That door is locked with a metal box with a secret code. How did you open the door?"

Julius turned and smiled at his old friend. "I was bored, after climbing into the back of the truck cab with nothing to do and turned around, seeing the tiny metal box mounted into the side of the door frame. I reached out and started typing in numbers and then heard a soft pop sound. The tiny door popped open. I swung the door and grabbed the first chest box, lifting the box over the long seat, sitting the chest on top of the floor mat. There is another tiny metal box on the chest. So, I played with the numbers and then heard a tiny pop sound. The lid on the chest popped open. I looked inside and found this tiny dolly. What is a tiny dolly doing inside this chest, Ikko? Why isn't the dolly with its child person?"

She exhaled with deep worry coming from Senator British. Ikko recognized evil people. Senator British was an evil person, who would punish or maybe murder all of them for opening one of her secret boxes from the locked rear compartment. The white tinted truck did not display the name of a company or a colorful, clever company logo, so the truck trip was illegal or some type of secret US Federal Government work. Ikko thought quickly. "Julius, I am glad that you opened the door and found the chest. Now, the fun is done. Can you please replace the heavy box back into the area compartment?" Ikko saw Streg. He held a sour frown and a large sack of groceries, slowly padding behind the truck bumper and stopped beside the gas pump. He placed the bag on top of the gas pump and started filling the tank with gasoline. She exhaled with worry and calmed her emotions, softly talking to Julius.

Julius was not a dummy but performed slow-thinking thoughts inside his active mind. He did not present a known medical condition that a medical physician could diagnosis and treat. And he was extremely kind and gently for a large gigantic person. However, a person had to act very happy with Julius, before he became upset and then destroyed something or someone.

At 09:34 am, on a heated morning, Streg finished his task and loaded back into the passenger seat, presenting the bag of food to Julius as a present of peace, not war. Julius turned with a smile and accepted the bag of items, placing the bag beside his person, rummaging inside the sack for a yummy snack. His attention was occupied and removed from the box, Streg, and Ikko.

Streg leaned over and whispered to Ikko. "We need to move away from the gas pumps and park to the side of the building."

"Yes." She started the engine and carefully shifted the gears, steering the truck around the rear of the building, working on the current issue.

Streg stayed in her face and asked. "And what do we do next?"

She whispered back to Streg. "Julius is very smart man, not dumb. He has this special ability to decode any type of numeric box using his active mind and his fingers. Once he entered into the rear seat inside the truck, he saw the metal box with the keypad and started punching in numbers. Then, magically, he did his thing and opened the door, seeing the metal box. And each metal box has a metal box with a keyboard also, so he opened that box too and looked inside the walls."

He frowned. "Geez! Madam Bitch didn't want us to see her secrets."

"Look! All the secrets are still secrets. However, Julius can reopen the door again and replace the box back into its cozy, cubby hole, without incident. Then, we drive and find one of the rest car parks and go to the fun playground facility for Julius to talk to the birdies. Then, we load back into the truck an do it again. We have until eight o'clock tonight before we must deliver this cargo in this truck." Streg nodded in silence, not to upset Julius. She stopped the truck without killing the engine and spun around, smiling at her friend.

Julius was eating one of the delicious messy cupcakes with dark colored chocolate frosting on his face, pointing down into the open box, asking the same question. "Why is this tiny dolly inside this metal case? Why isn't the tiny dolly with its small child person?"

Ikko placed the truck in park and struggled upright from the driver's seat, folding down at her fitted waistline, trying to view the internal contents in the metal box. Julius will not stop asking the question, until he received an answer.

Streg sat in the passenger seat in silence and pulled out the trip instructions, re-reading the information, working his mental thoughts. He was familiar with the city of Atlanta, after attending all of the sporting events and he was familiar with the main roadways of Alabama, plotting the next planned stop to entertain Julius, keeping him away from the locked rear door. The extremely large man was too big for sitting in the passenger seat.

Ikko stood in a crouch in-between the two captain chairs, bumping into the hard head on Streg, who didn't mind, leaning down over the lid, viewing the object. She gasped in shock and punched Streg. He spun around and stood upright from the captain chair, crouching down from the short rooftop, leaning over the back rest and a shorter Ikko, gasped in horror. He sat back down and opened the door, sliding off the seat, yelling at Ikko. "Take the chair, Ikko! I'm driving now." Ikko wrestled with the arms on each oversized captain's chair and sat down in the passenger seat, staring out the window, exhaling with horror, after seeing the object.

Streg was quick and entered the driver's seat, flipping the gears. "Julius, you're a good man. We are going to travel and find the little girl that belongs to the tiny doll. So, you go ahead and closed up that chest for me. Okay!" Julius continued to eat the messy cupcake and reached out, slamming the lid shut, reprogramming the secret code on the metal chest. Streg hollowed and slowly steered the truck from the gas station and back onto the interstate. "Hold on! We are heading to the rest park which is about ten miles north of here and then we will park and figure out how to find that little girl," he swiftly sped down the roadway.

Ikko continued to sit and felt horrible. "You shouldn't drive so fast. You're get pulled over by the highway patrol officer."

He laughed. "I'm the one with the valid Alabama driver's license. I only get a ticket, which will never be paid."

She exhaled with worry. "Are we really being tailed?"

"No! I have been scouting the other cars, the roadway, the skyline for other vehicles, since we left the Coast Guard Administration Building. There are not any cars behind us or airplanes above us or any cars before us. We are here alone and scared. I'm scared, too, Ikko."

She continued to stare at the roadway, without a plan of action. "What is your plan? You have a plan. You keep planning to find the little girl for Julius." She used his same code words.

He continued to speed down the interstate while plotting out his new plan, "Yes, I have a plan."

Evergreen is a city in Conecuh County, within the US State of Alabama, with a current population of people at 4,004 and total land area of 20.01 featuring 15.75 square miles of land and 0.26 square miles of water with 242 feet above sea level from the Gulf of Mexico warm ocean waters.

Historically, early pioneers came from the US States of Georgia and South Carolina in the year 1818. The US State of Alabama was accepted into the USA in the year 1819. In the same year, the town of Evergreen was established by Revolutionary War veteran soldier James Cosey. The new settlers named the new land Evergreen for the abundance of surrounding green colored groves of trees, rows of bush plants, and large plant ferns over the brown tinted dirt.

Evergreen became a city on March 28, 1873.

In the year 1882, a tornado destroyed the church. On November 7th, in the year 1895, a fire destroyed businesses and houses on the east side of the city. On November 12th, another fire destroyed the businesses and houses on the western side of the city. The court house burned in the years 1868, 1875, 1885 and 1895.

Interstate 65 roadway passes on the northwest side of Evergreen town limits, which is 75 miles north towards the capital city of Montgomery, and 90 miles south down towards the beach town of Mobile.

Ten minutes later, at 09:44 am, Streg didn't bother with the turning signal on the truck and exited the interstate, carefully steering the vehicle into the rest park area, parking inside the last empty slot away from the other stationary automobiles and delivery trucks and killed the engine. He spun around and smiled at the different colors of cream on both of the cheekbones of Julius. "Buddy, I need a favor." Julius looked up and smiled with colored food particles in-between his teeth. Streg nodded. "We are getting out of the truck first and then we are going to play around the park with the grass and trees. Does that sound like fun?" Julius nodded with a smile and then continued to eat. Streg nodded. "Next, we are going to move around and stand at the rear of the truck. I want you to open the rear door on the truck. Can you do that for me?" Ikko gasped in shock and didn't understand Streg's new plan but remained quiet without alarming her friend Julius. Julius nodded with a colorful smiled.

Streg winked with a smile. "Great! Everyone, get out and meet behind the truck!" He opened the door and slid down, slamming the door, without locking the vehicle and dashed around to the rear door, standing nervously in place. He waited and watched for other cars or strange people, which did not present themselves to Streg.

Julius and Ikko took their sweet tea time strolling around the side of the truck and arrived standing at the side near the rear door. Streg pointed to the metal box and nodded with a smile. "Julius, can you please open the door for us." Julius held the sack of junk food and slowly spun around, smiling at the grassy park, the grove of trees, the flock of flying birds with happiness, looking forward to the new fun adventure. Streg grew both nervous and inpatient, asking kindly again. "Julius, if you open the door first, then you can go and play with the birdies." Julius spun around and moved ahead, reaching out, punching numbers into the metal box. Two minutes later, the rear door unlocked and slightly popped open. He back stepped from the open door on the rear end of the truck and then spun around, smiling at the new playground, still cuddling the bag of groceries.

"You're the man, Julius! Thanks for opening the door." Streg rushed ahead and slammed opened the door, viewing nicely stacked black tinted metal boxes. "O my stars!" He reached out and pressed the button, activating the automatic forklift that was built into the new truck. The forklift released from the holding clamps and silently dropping down onto the hard pavement.

Ikko stood in place and gasped in horror of the rows and columns of matching black tinted metal boxes, "O mercy!"

Streg back stepped and pointed to the top of the last row with his new order. "Julius, you are still the man. Please climb onto the forklift platform, fly in the air and retrieve the first row of black tinted metal boxes for Ikko." He chuckled with his wordy deception without seeing Julius. Streg spun around and gasped in alarm. Julius was staring at the new landscape, not interested in the hard work. Streg exhaled with worry. "Julius, do you remember that we are looking for the little girl child that is missing her little tiny dolly?" Julius spun around and nodded to Streg. Streg smiled. "Well, we need some more help in finding the little girl child. Please step onto the forklift platform first. I am going to lift you up in the air. Then you reach out and remove the top row that holds three black tinted boxes, placing each one on top of the platform with you. Then I will slowly bring down the forklift platform back to the ground. Then you can go and sing to the birdies." Julius mentally thought about the order and nodded his skull in silence, handing the sack of food to Ikko. She accepted and watched her friend.

Julius moved ahead, stopping on top of the platform. Streg pressed the green button. The platform slowly lifted up and then halted at the highest setting while easily reaching the top row of boxes. Julius reached over and lifted the top three heavy metal boxes from the spot, placing each one around his body. After he finished, Julius stood upright. Streg pressed the red button. The platform slowly dropped down and landed down on the ground with Julius and the three boxes. Streg nodded with a grin. "You are still the man. Can you please work your finger magic and open all three boxes for Ikko?" Julius leaned down and punched each individual tiny metal devise on each item with magical numbers, until each box cracked open but did not reveal the hidden time. Streg watched and then quickly stated at the back spine on Julius with a smile and pointed at the playground park. "You're still the man. Thank you, Julius! Go and play in the grass! Have fun!" Julius stepped off the platform and held out his two hands. Ikko placed the food bag back into his hands. He slowly scooted around her and strolled towards the grass. Streg softly chuckled at the simple man with the simple mind, spinning around, approaching the three boxes and then felt more worry and fear of the new hidden contents.

Ikko quickly whirled around to see Julius and then spun back around, facing the back spine on Streg, dashing ahead, stopping beside the assassin. "What are you doing? You are getting us into more trouble. We don't wanna look inside more locked boxes. We wanna delivery all of the closed and intact boxes and be done with this illegal act."

Streg squatted down at the first open box and looked around the park first, returning back, staring at the cracked lid, slowly opening the box. "This is your chance to see the new object. I wanna peek at the item for a half-a-second. Then I'll close shut and lock it back."

She gasped in alarm and squatted down, almost cuddling with Streg, keeping a pair of spying eyeballs away from the hidden item. He slowly opened the lid just enough to reveal the item, seeing a tiny red-colored shape. "O my stars!"

She gasped in shock. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Yes," he gently closed the lid and scooted with her on top of the platform to the second box, flipping open the lid, seeing a new object. "Yes," he closed the lid and scooted with her to the third box, lifting the unlocked lid, viewing the third object. "Yes," he closed the lid and continued to squat, whispering back to her. "Yes, these are individual human, not alien baby parts from a successful abortion. The beach town of Mobile is one of the popular hot spots for legal abortions of growing baby fetuses inside a guilty biological human mother, who does not wanna become a mother. That tiny baby dolly was a complete and intact fetus less than four months old. I am not a medical physician. In my old line of work, I needed to understand the human body including infants and child."

She growled. "We're in deep trouble."

"No. We haven't done anything wrong here. Senator British is the evil villainous in this demon tale."

She nodded. "I agree. So, we let Julius sing to the birdies for thirty minutes and then all we load back into the truck, hitting the interstate, flying to the city of Atlanta. I don't want him seeing any more of those human body parts. He will..."

Streg asked. "What's wrong with him?"

"There is nothing wrong with him. He is slow-thinking person and is a kind and gentle soul. He doesn't understand vile people or violent acts. He will not understand what these things are? What kind of human baby body parts are these objects, anyways?"

He exhaled with angry. "The first box contains a baby's heart organ. The second box is a baby's liver. The third box is a baby's brain. Each one of these boxes are human babies that died for greed and money and power from a set of evil humans. I am so mad. I could toss each box down from the cargo bind and remove the baby body parts, burying them in the ground, praying over their little abused human flesh and tissues with true Christian service."

"We can't do anything like that. I agree with you. I wanna do something. However, we are not in a position to do something."

Streg stood upright and exhaled with angry, shaking his bone skull, dropping off the platform onto the ground. He paced back and forth working his brain cells. "I do believe that we can do something."

She stood upright and gasped in shock, spinning around, stepping off the platform, "What are you saying? What are you talking about?"

He spun around and moved back to the three boxes, shutting each lid relocking the metal devise, sitting down and pretended to enjoy the woodlands scenery, "Sit down on top of the box like we're taking a break from the long truck ride. I don't wanna a stranger coming up here and asking some nosy questions about the truck or the boxes."

"Yes. Yes. Yes, I agree." She moved ahead and spun around, sitting on the second box beside Streg, nervously flinging her crossed leg in the air. She watched Julius and worried about their future days hanging around Streg and working for Senator British.

He smiled. "I have a great plan. We need to replace each dead human baby part body with something else."

"What! What are you talking about? Replace a human baby part body with what else? We use a live or dead adult human body part."

He nodded. "This is a crazy idea."

She frowned. "This is a crazy ride."

"A human baby body part is tiny. We replace each human baby body part with a dead chicken body part. A chicken possesses a heart organ, a liver, a spleen, and a brain. So, we open each box and rob the human baby body part, replacing with a dead chicken's body part. No one will know the difference."

She exhaled with deep worry and annoyance at the new guy, "You are insane, Streg. This conversation is insane. I am insane hearing this insane idea. Look! This is not going to work. We can't do anything. I wanna do something. We need to gather Julius and we need to get back onto the road, driving fastest to Atlanta without getting arrested. That's the new plan."

He didn't yell or move from his spot, sitting on top of the metal case. "We have until eight o'clock at night during darkness to implement our ..."

"...your plan..."

"My plan involves my friend. He is a..."

"I do believe your plan has merit. But they're going to know which human baby body part is missing from which black tinted box, Streg."

He shook his long blonde tinted curls, "No, they are not. The new truck does not hold the name of a company or a colored logo from another company. Our uniforms do not show the name of the company. We didn't release manifests of items on paper or an electronic file or an electronic computer, that reveals what is inside each box. Each box is packed and locked from spying eyeballs and for non-identification purposes and safe security."

"They could have sent all of that information electronic by computer."

"No! They would not send out electronic information regarding stolen or purchased human baby parts from numerous legal abortions by computer or by mobile telephone or by email or by computer or by any electronic means. They would not dare use a traceable computer file."

She nodded with a smile and watched Julius, who enjoyed the late morning hours near the grove of trees. "They mailed a letter."

"They are sending three worker bees coming from the queen bee, who are all disposable and expandable. Honestly, I'll tell you the truth here. Once we arrive at the final destination point and delivery all of the illegal cargo items, I plan to fight with everyone, before they kill me dead. Can Julius fight with his fists? Why bother to pay us, for an illegal job? Why bother to spend the night at a nice hotel room, after our short and illegal assignment? We are three convicts. I am not on death row, but I am sentenced to life for my crime. However, even a drug mule gets cash monies and a nice hotel room." Streg smiled and enjoyed watching Julius in the grassy park. "Look! I don't see the future. I don't know what is going to happen. But my guts feel different. Right now, I know the cargo items and I wanna bury these tiny babies in the eyes of them and Almighty God. Look! I can do this alone. Why don't you take the cash money and run away from the park and the truck and the boxes and me? I will drive both of you to ..."

"Stop! We are a team. We are in this together. Yes, Julius and I can both fight to the death, if that happens. Anyways, I'm dead, if I leave and then escape from this assignment. Julius will dead, if he leaves this legal or illegal or secret new assignment also. I like your idea and your honor. We replace each dead human baby body part with a dead chicken part. When do we leave to start our new plan? We need to get to work on this new strategy, before we need to arrive at eight o'clock. What do we do first?"

He turned and smiled at Ikko. "My army buddy is a chicken farmer and lives in the town of Alabaster."

She gasped in shock and turned to see Streg. "The town of Alabaster is on the way of Interstate 65 but sorta off our planned road trip and is two hours and fifteen minutes from us, here in Evergreen rest park."

He nodded with a smile. "Look! The total driving time is still two hours and fifteen minutes from here with 75 miles to the city of Montgomery and then another 60 miles to Alabaster. So, we will have plenty of travel time. I need to contact my chicken farmer friend, so he can start pulling out dead chicken hearts, spleens, livers and brains.'

She gasped in shock. "How can your chicken farmer friend do that so quickly?"

"He owns a chicken farm and a chicken facility that cuts up each dead chicken. He has parts and pieces of dead chicken body parts lounging down on the bloody floor. And he is an American patriot. Once I explain what I found..."

"Why would he trust you? You murdered the first female president."

Streg laughed. "He didn't like her either and didn't believe the demon tale on my fanny. He was not allowed to visit me at my prisoner building. He had called me, right after the event and laughed his ass off, offering any assistance in terms of money or guns or men or an escape to an ocean island from my abusive treatment from our lovely US Federal Government. I turned him down. I am not a criminal. I am a patriot of the USA. I am an American, the home of the brave and the land of the free. I did not nothing wrong. I was following orders from my employer, the United States of America. I want justice. Now, I'm going to get my justice, if it is only for a short time against one foe, honoring these dead bodies that sacrificed their tiny lives for greed, power and monies. Maybe, I'll die and ascend into heaven, then Almighty God can hug me."

She smiled. "He will. He loves all of us. All right! I'm ready. When do we leave?"

He nodded with a smile. "I agree that driving to the town of Alabaster is out of our trip route. I need to contact my farmer friend. I need a mobile telephone to contact my friend, so he can start collecting all of the chicken hearts, livers, spleen and brains for each metal box. After this event, I am never eating a piece of chicken again. I asked the senator for a phone, but she refused, of course. Did you hide a phone on your person, by chance?"

"No chance with me!" She laughed. "We could buy one." Ikko spun around and viewed the cargo inside the rear of the trunk. "How many chicken parts do you need? You need to give your farmer friend a math number."

He spun around and studied the measurement of the truck. "No! She wants all of the paper receipts and each burn phone needs another phone to set up the connection. That's a good point. The delivery truck's external dimensions are eighteen feet long by nine feet wide by eight feet high. Each metal box is two feet tall by three feet wide and two feet long. The top row displays three metal black tinted boxed across taking up the internal width of the truck space. There are nine columns of boxes lengthwise heading back from the opening to the cabin and three boxes across which is nine times three equals 27 boxes on the bottom layer inside the floor of the cargo rear. The boxes are stacked four in each column. The math number four times a layer of 27 boxes equal 108 boxes. So, I must replace 108 boxes with chicken parts consisting of a heart or a spleen or a liver or a brain. Now, I need a phone to contact my chicken farmer friend."

"Streg, is this really going to work? We only viewed four metal boxes. One contained an intact fetus, which is clearly not a dead small farm chicken, without the skin. The other three boxes displayed an individual human body part. But, more of the boxes could contain other human baby body parts and maybe some baby blood proteins. You and I are taking a big chance with..." she exhaled with angry and worry. She and her two team mates were destined to die, after the completed assignment that was the only explanation for her existence on an illegal run of human baby parts. Ikko accepted her final fate and spun around, studying the ancient brick-coated building that held bathrooms and vendor machines, pointing to the structure. "There could be an old fashion pay telephone into the park building. This is the US State of Alabama," she laughed at the comedy of the situation and the backwardness of her home state.

He spun around and smiled at the structure. "Right! Right! Stay here and guard all of the boxes and the truck. Don't let a stranger near the vehicle. I'll be right back in a few minutes," Streg raced ahead with a smile and his brilliant plan, leaving Ikko, watching Julius, who enjoyed the trees, the birds, and the grassy park. He entered the building and scanned the new environment. The room air smelled. The walls were dull paint from the 1970s. the floor was dirty. The interior brick decoration was broken off the walls. The ceiling was painted in shades of tan hue. In the middle of the floor space, a large, square-shaped wooden table stood alone and lonely, holding tiny stacks of colorful papers and pamphlets that introduced all of the fun vacation spots throughout the US State of Alabama. The wooden table did not present a set of sitting chairs for the visitors to the State of Alabama.

The room was square-shaped. The entrance held an open archway for a pair of double doors. Each side of the open archway displayed a row of semi-clean or semi-dirty glass windows that showed the front lawn of dried grass, pods of wildflowers, and groves of trees, part of the gray-tinted parking lot, and some of the interstate gray-tinted roadway, if you were really visiting the rest park and exploring the grounds. Each side wall displayed a single, semi-dirty glass window that presented the other side of the grassy park, more parking spaces, and groves of trees, the pale blue skyline and rows of white clouds in-between a dirty wall of enclosed glass cases that exhibited ugly faces on each escaped fugitive from the law.

Yeah, this is a weird place for that display.

Inside each wall corner next to the other long wall, a bathroom archway exposed the dirty walls into either the female bathroom or the male.

The opposite long wall from the doorway held an array of colorful machines with numerous food or cold beverage items.

Streg spotted an old fashioned telephone beside Men's Bathroom and the last food machine. "Yes. Yes. Yes." He dashed ahead and slammed into the upright old fashioned telephone in black hue with chuckles of happiness, pulling back, whipping out a wad of cash money and found one dollar bill, US. He held the bill in the air and searched the phone slot for money, not finding the slot for dollar bills, only coins. "What! You don't one dollar bills, only coins. He replaced the money back into his trouser pocket and slapped both hands over his one-piece tan colored uniform searching for change, finding a dime, which was worth ten cents, US. "I need more coins. I can't call collect. His wife might answer the phone and report me to the authorities. I must talk only to my friend with my brilliant plan. I need coins. I'll go and find a money bank and exchange the dollars for some coins," he back stepped and spun around, dashing down the wall of food machines, skidding into a halt. "Food machines, they give back coins." He turned and placed the dollar inside the machine, selecting the cheapest item on the wall, pressing the button. A pack of mint fresh chewing gum dropped down from the wall and landed down in the bend while the machine dropped down the change from the dollar bill. Streg grabbed the coins and left the gum inside the bend for another person. "Now, I have fifty-five cents plus ten cents equal sixty-five cents. I need one or two or three dollars in coins for the telephone call to Cullman. This is taking too long. I'm running of time." He whipped out the wad of cash and flipped through each twenty dollar bill. "Twenty. Twenty. Twenty. My wad of cash is only twenty dollar bills. I need coins, not dollars. I need go to the bank," he back stepped and spun around from the telephone, exhaling with worry, taking one step and then halted. "Flat tire! Chest of tools! Rear bench!" Streg spun aback around and smiled at the line of food machines. "Coins, I have found coins." He whirled around from the wall of food machines and raced from the building, running ahead towards the truck and Ikko, slamming into the rear passenger door with chuckles. He pulled back and opened the door, searching the underbelly of the rear bench seat.

"What! What happened? Did you call your farmer chicken friend? What are you going?" Ikko moved ahead and stopped a few feet from Streg, standing with confusion.

He pulled back and cuddled a heavy chest of tool, dragging over the floor, gently lowering down onto the pavement. "I need a tool. I found a wall of food machines. I need coins, not dollars for the old fashioned pay phone."

She gasped in alarm. "No! You can't do that."

He squatted down and opened the lid, pulling a sledge hammer in the air, slowly standing upright, spinning around and winked at her. "I found my tool. Time for work!"

"No, Streg!" She shouted out loud and swirled around following his back spine with worry and annoyance at the man.

Streg raced ahead with the heavy tool and re-entered the building, stopping in front of the middle food machine, prating his legs. He reached backwards with both of his arms, like a baseball stance, with the sledge hammer, swinging forward and hit the middle of the thick glass son the food machine. The glass shattered first, broke into individual shards, dropping down over the floor, inside the slot machine, and on Streg. He continued to swing the sledge hammer at each food machine releasing his angry at the senator, frustration at the government, and madness of the terrible satiation, beating each glass door off each machine, exposing all of the food items.

He stopped at the last machine and dropped the hammer down onto the floor, reaching through the clear archway, grabbing a handful of coins. He moved back to the telephone and stuffed the metal guts of the phone with numerous quarters, quickly dialing the recalled his friend telephone number.

His chicken farmer friend had been another fellow Army buddy with Streg. His friend performed his American duty and then was honorably discharged, after inheriting the chicken farm from his grandfather's death. His friend missed the Army life but was obligated to his family life, a trait of an American.

The dial tone connected and started ringing. Streg had the ability to remember numbers and recalled his friend's personal mobile telephone. A male answered the phone. Streg was relieved the voice was his friend and shouted with excitement into the receiver. "Coup! This is Streg!"

Paused.

Streg smiled. "Thanks, man! I didn't escape. And I don't need guns or money; but I need your help."

Paused.

Streg said. "Our lovely Alabama Senator British in the US Senator is passing dead human baby body parts onto someone. I'm working for her..."

Paused.

"Yeah, that's another demon tale. Right now, I'm working for her driving a refrigerated truck with all of the human baby body parts from Mobile to Atlanta."

Paused.

"Thanks, Coup! I knew that I and the American people could count on you. I wanna replace 108 boxes with fresh and dead chicken parts of hearts, spleens, livers, and brains..."

Paused.

He frowned. "Stop laughing at me, Coup! This is my brilliant plan. Do you wanna help me fight evil? Can you do this with me?"

Paused.

He nodded. "Look! Thanks, man! I'm 90 miles north of Mobile and 135 miles south of Alabaster. So, if I drive at 70 miles-per-hour or faster, then I'll arrive two hours and ten minutes at your farm, where you live. I'm leaving right now. I'll be there at 12:01 pm or so, then we can start working on my brilliant plan."

Paused.

He smiled. "Thanks! Thanks for helping me and these abused babies, buddy! Bye!" Streg replaced the receiver down onto the phone and spun around, grabbing the sledge hammer, scooting around the scattered packs of food items and raced out the door. He run ahead towards Ikko and the truck, dropping down the hammer, colliding into her body and swung her around. He shouted out loud with delight and then halted, facing her. "I called my chicken farmer friend. He likes my plan. I'll leaving right now."

She smiled and nodded several times with the good news. 'Great! Great! I'll go and fetch Julius."

He frowned. "No! I'll go alone and lonely. Julius will not..."

"... know ..." She nodded with her understanding and worry for her friend Julius. He would not comprehend the new plan and then accidentally, of course, tattle the new information to the wrong parties, which would endanger his life and Ikko's life. She said. "I feel bad that you are performing the new assignment alone and lonely," she faked a smile.

Streg exhaled with worry. "You need to feel bad, if our new plan doesn't work and all of us are facing the barrel of a shotgun, after our botched assignment." She nodded with a stern face in silence. "I'm leaving right now for the city of Alabaster, which is located south of metro city Birmingham. The truck ride is two hours and some minutes at rapid speed from here to Alabaster chicken farm. Then, the switch work might take two more hours to do it right. Now, the time is after 09:57 am. I will arrive in Alabaster at 12:02 pm or so, completing the work by 2:00 pm or so and returning back here to collect you and Julius at 4:00 pm or so."

She shouted in panic. "That's too late! The road trip from here to the city of Atlanta, Georgia is still a travel time of four hours and thirty minutes, which places us there after eight o'clock, the bitching hour. We'll be exposed and found and discovered and then ..."

He nodded with a smile. "So, I'll speed to Alabaster and then speed back and then speed to Atlanta, Georgia making up the time. We arrive a nighttime. I'll pretend to become drunk and stupid. All people feel sorry for the drunker. O! I broke out all of the thick glass plates on each food machine in a set of rage and angry and hatred and I do feel better, after stealing some quarters for the old fashioned telephone. Go and get all of the food times for you and Julius, before the other visitors steal them! Stay cool and calm! I'll be back like Arnold quotes," he chuckled in amusement.

"What! What!!" She waved both of her arms in the air and screamed at Streg, dropping her arms to her side, spinning around with a smile. "He broke out the glass plate in the food machines. The vendor machines contain food and beverages. Yeehaw!" She raced ahead toward the building while ripping off her jumpsuit, exposing her regular clothing. She would use her jumpsuit and collect as many food items as possible for their refreshment items, until Streg returned back later this evening for the final delivery of the dead chicken parts. She disappeared into the building laughing out loud with delight.

Inside the cab on the truck, Streg slammed the rear door and ensured it locked, racing to the driver's seat, loading back into the truck and cranked the engine. He didn't allow the motor to warm and carefully steered from the parking spot, heading back onto the interstate. He started increasing the speed, flying down the road. If one of the Alabama highway patrol cars stopped him for speeding, then Streg would show them the illegal cargo and tattle on vile US Senator Reed Cathy "Red Coat" British. Either way, the dead babies will win, and he will lose. He exhaled with worry. "That's my life!"

At 12:07 pm, on a country road, near the town of Alabaster, Streg slowly steered the rented refrigerated truck onto the familiar smooth vanilla colored concrete driveway, watching his friend Coup. Coup stood on the edge of the truck flip waving madly at the new truck with his old friend Streg, sliding back down into the cab of his truck, starting the engine and led Streg towards the warehouse for the secret operation. Streg drove the truck through the open archway inside a red tinted ancient horse barn, stopping on the opposite end of the second open archway viewing the bright sunlight, rows of wheat fields, corrals of cows, and rows of chicken coops. He cut off the engine and then opened the door, sliding down into the packed hay strands, smiling at his friend.

Coup dashed ahead and collided into Streg, manly hugging his Army buddy, pulling back with a smile, "Welcome to my farm home, Streg! I'm glad you final came to visit with me, if only on business." Coup displayed a head of cropped black tinted hair, a pair of turquoise irises that danced with excitement, a tone of coffee skin covered in sweat from all of his outside work, this morning. The male measured five feet and zero inches in height, weighting less than 100 pounds of weakly thin muscles.

Streg measured six feet and six inches in height, possessing plenty of physical energy and lots of nasty attitude, taking after his tall grandfather and his taller biological father, exhibiting a set of nice curved muscles on his chest and both of his arms. He had attended and graduated college with a silly degree in sales marketing without finding a working job and then enlisted into the Army military branch for both fun and adventure. He trained and was employed as a sharp shooter loving guns and his new army job.

However, nothing else made Streg madder than a hornet than seeing a smaller life form harmed or hurt or tormented or tortured by a bigger solo or group of life forms. One day, after the dinner meal, he slowly strolled around the camp site, on his tour of duty, in the country of Afghanistan, seeing a petite Coup, who was getting picked on by a group of taller assholes, which made Streg very angry. The wicked situation also allowed Streg to exercise all of his inhibited anger emotions on each silly soldier, which was both fun and awarding. His reward was spending the night inside the medical center with numerous cuts and bruises on his face and both of his arms while staring at each soldier with one or more broken limbs.

That was their first introduction on the Army base during war with the ISIS warriors.

Coup also had shared the same medical ward a couple of hospital beds over from Streg. A couple of days later, Coup formerly greeted his protector and his new friend Streg, promising to payback his new friend with grand riches and treasures for saving his ass. Streg didn't need riches or treasure for beating up a pack of fools, since he enjoyed it and engaged a new Army buddy, during the exciting tour of duty.

Coup didn't shoot a gun but worked an office desk during the war, purchasing pieces of metal equipment for the flying machines and tons of food, office, medical and personal supplies for the soldiers. Do not believe that is not an important job, when a soldier needs toilet paper for shitting or a chocolate candy bar for eating.

Coup also enjoyed hanging around Streg, who didn't talk much but drunk lots of cold beer cans and eat numerous bags of fresh American potato chips, which came by way of Coup during each one of their low maintenance social time there on the military camp site. After the tour of duty was completed for the troops, both Coup and Streg returned back home to the USA and went their separate way.

Coup was a fourth generation chicken farmer and resided on five square miles of farmland raising chickens, cows, cotton crops in the countryside, a few miles west of Alabaster. Coup married his high school sweetheart and produced no children yet and ran his farm with successful profits while occasionally contacting Streg, inviting his friend to visit his country farm. Streg showed up four times during various holiday leaves from his Army life, enjoying every home-made meal and each nice home town person, until he left for another Army adventure as an Army sharp shooter throughout the USA and the world.

After the bloody incident with the murdered first female President of the USA in the month of June, Coup could not visit Streg at the prisoner building but called him by phone while illegally offering permanent asylum on his chicken farm, providing a hidden place, where no anger person or government agent would ever find Streg. Streg was deeply grateful and did not accept the illegal proposal, which would have endangered his friend Coup, his pretty wife, his two young toddlers, and his farm. Streg wanted one day prove his innocence for killing the nasty terrorist under the orders of his US Army officer.

Near the town of Alabaster, back inside the horse barn owned by Coup, the floor was covered in yellow tinted hay on top of the wooden smooth floor. The entrance wall presented a gigantic wide and tall archway which allowed a farm tractor to enter and the park in-between the four massive tall wooden walls, without a single outside window, which protected the four internal walls and the items inside from each minor or severe summertime thunderstorm and the wintertime snow and ice.

The opposite wall mirrored the same gigantic open archway, where the farm tractor exited the barn property. A group of people manually worked together and closed both of the barn doors shutting out the bright sunlight and blistering heat from the hot afternoon, holding the secrets. Then each individual spun around and stood in front of the locked doors, pulling out a hand gun, watching for trouble or troublemakers, in silence.

Each side wall was decorated with more wooden planks with rows of semi-crooked mounted rakes and shelves storing smaller pieces of farm equipment and hand-held farm objects. Right now, the walls were empty. The center of the room was active with stationary farm equipment and shouting shuffling individuals.

The truck was parked in front of the closed barn door in dead silence. On the side of the truck, a stationary green tinted forklift stood near the rear bumper without blocking the rear door on the truck. A second matching forklift was parked on the opposite side of the truck near the rear bumper. Both pieces of heavy equipment held an operator watching Coup and Streg.

Beside the first forklift, a short active conveyer belt slowly tumbled in motion forming a semi-curve ending a few feet before the second forklift. Behind the rolling noisy converter belt, a row of individuals stood in ready while watching and waiting for their owner Coup.

Streg spun them around and slowly ahead towards the rear of the trunk, hearing the loud commotion inside the middle of the room.

Coup extended one arm and pointed to each devise. "Let me show you our new little setup here inside my horse barn!" He stopped and stood in front of the rear door on the truck.

Streg spun around and viewed the closed and locked rear door, exhaling in panic, pointing at the door. "O no! My plan has failed. I have failed. I forget to tell you this. The rear door is encoded with a metal box and each metal box contains a metal locked devise. This is..."

"...working greatly..." Coup spun around and faced the rear door. A female was standing beside the metal box sliding a silver tinted hand-held devise over the box making a set of tiny beeps. Then the door slightly cracked open. She reached out and swung the rear door open, examining the stack of black tinted metal boxes with a silence nod, back stepping from the cargo items. She turned and waved her hand to the forklift operator, who shuffled both of the mechanic metal arm hands towards the top row of three metal boxes, gently removing first item, placing the box on top of a sturdy manual conveyer belt made of cylinder rollers.

The unknown and unnamed female moved ahead and stood in front of the first box, running her hand-held devise again over the metal box, popping open the lid and opened the item. She didn't open the lid up in the air or shouted out loud with victory or grunted a new vocal command but rolled the box to the first individual behind the manual conveyer belt roller. The first individual caught the box and lifted the lid, gasping in alarm, wearing a stern face and extracted the dead human baby body part, wearing a pair of yellow tinted rubber gloves, using a pair of silver tinted tool plies for bodily protection and then gently removed the item, without speaking or shouting or crying or grunting. She bent down towards the hay floor and gently placed the baby body part down into a cool container, where the dead human baby body part would receive a proper Christian burial deep within the wild woodlands near the herd of cows on Coup's farm.

The second individual reached out and grabbed the first box, shifting the item to the third person. The third person caught the box and held the item steady. The fourth person gently placed a dead chicken heart down into the dry ice, wearing a pair of gloves, using a silver tinted pair of plies for bodily protection also.

The fifth person reached out and grabbed the box, examining the position of the chicken heart, slamming closed the lid, rolling the box to the sixth person. The sixth person caught the box and rolled the item to the seventh person. The seventh person rolled the box towards the end of the manual conveyer belt. The second forklift operator gently lifted the black tinted metal box from the stationary black tinted solid belt and placed the item down on top of the hay floor, waiting for the internal compartment in the truck cargo unit to clear.

Coup followed the second box and explained the manual procedure to Streg. "The first forklift operator lifts up each metal box with the human baby body part and removes the item from the cargo bed, placing it on top of the solid part on the sturdy conveyer belt. The lady is my employee now. But she used to work for the DEA government office, in Montgomery, until she uncovered some nasty corruption and fraud, which got her fired from her government job, of course. I employ tons of formal government workers, who enjoy screwing the mighty and misguided US Federal Government but become canned and can't find a job. I offer a job, a home, and other fringe benefits. My chicken farm is doing very well, Streg. I want you to come and live here in safety and secret here for the rest of your days. I'm worried about your new employer and your new assignment. That Bitch Witch is one mean and nasty woman and she will get you killed."
Streg exhaled with the truth and faked a smile, watching each box and each worker. "I am not alone in this nasty adventure, Coup. I was assigned a couple of innocent persons, who will be hunted down and then tortured and then finally killed, if I successfully escape from my current employer and cannot be located."

He flipped his tiny hand in the air and stood even with Streg's chest. "Hell! Bring the boatload of innocent people here to my farm. I'll employ and provide them with a gun and a home. No questions asked. No answers given. No one gets on my farmland with getting a fiery bullet in the eyeball. Then, that person can go and visit God, who will send them directly down into fire hell. The end!"

Streg chuckled with the nice invitation. Ikko would instantly take while caring for sweet Julius. Streg will mention the offer from Coup, if they all survived the first assignment, which was highly doubtful. He nodded. "I will think about it, Coup. What are your people doing behind the conveyor belt with the baby parts and the chicken parts?"

He continued to point to each individual while explaining the process. "The people are not my farm hands. This people are good church people, who believe and worship Almighty God, his son Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit. After you called me with the messy issue, I called some of my family members and some of my closest friends tattling them the new delicate, dangerous and deadly situation. Each person wants to help that abused baby and will never tattle to anyone, even under both torment and torture. Each person is disgusted with our vile US Federal Government and all of the do nothing and nastier US elected leaders that run America down into the ground, except for our new President of the United States, compliment of Streg."

Streg sneered with disgust that his mistake was honored, "Don't mention it!"

He laughed. "Compliments of Streg!"

Streg growled, "I asked you not to mention it, Coup!"

"The incident was an accident watching for an assassin. You just happened to be in the wrong place, at the right time. Your bloody action brought an evil president and her vile vice president, placing a great president into the spot, who is working to change American into the great country, since the year 1776."

Streg frowned and watched the slow-working process of extracting one metal box at a time which would take a couple of hours. He was on a strict timeline, before the eight o'clock deadline that might affect his life, "Thanks!"

"Now, back to business!"

"Berrington!" Streg laughed with humor.

Coup smiled. "My DEA lady illegally purchased some nifty government devises on the black market that does not help my farm but aids other operations that will not be named. Anyways, she has that cool hand-held device, that unscrambles both numeric and alphabetic codes on any type of computer or manual metal box. So, she easily opened the locked rear door on that rental truck and each locked metal box. When she opens the box, she rolls the box over the rollers to the first worker. The first worker quickly volunteered to help each dead aborted baby. This is the terrible, horrible job of all the jobs. But she wanted to do that terrible, horrible job with the help of Jesus Christ, our lord and savior of humans. She is gently collecting all of the human baby body parts and with her preacher husband and a small group of people will bury each baby part here on my farm in the far backwoods and pray over the lost soul, asking Almighty God to punish the lot of evil men and women and..."

"...aliens..."

"What!" Coup gasped in shock.

"I do believe the evil individuals here on Planet Earth are a group of aliens or alien created creatures coming from the depths of outer space stars. No human that loves Almighty God and his son Jesus Christ would purposely butcher a precious baby or beat an innocent child."

"Amen!" Coup nodded with a stern face. "The second worker grabs the box and shifts to the third worker, who holds it steady for the fourth worker. The fourth worker randomly places one of either a naked chicken heart or a chicken spleen or a chicken liver or a chicken brain inside that open box. Then a sixth worker grabs the box and checks the contents, slamming the lid shut, rolling to the seventh person. The seventh person keeps the boxes rolling over the belt and stops the box for the second forklift operator, who lifts the box from the conveyer belt, gently stacking on top of the hay floor. We gotta empty out the rear cargo hold before we can start to replace back each new box."

Streg gasped in shock and spun around seeing two empty rows of boxes, which was only six metal boxes, eating up the daylight hours. "I forgot that the cargo hold needs to be cleared out, before the new boxes can be replaced back into an empty hold. This process is taking more time than I had planned out. Can you give me a new refrigerated truck for storing all of the new boxes, Coup?"

Coup spun around and studied the column of boxes and then the new truck design with a keen eyeball. "I would gladly give you anything that I own, Streg. However, this is a newer truck. If you show up with a different refrigerated truck other than that one, then my new truck can be traced back to me and my farm. I'll get into trouble..."

"Yes! Yes! Yes, you're correct. I'm so sorry, Coup. I'm a little nervous and panicked at the moment." He scanned the rows of boxes while worrying about his future.

Coup reached over with a smile and slapped the hard chest muscles on a taller Streg, since Streg's forearm was higher than Coup's collar bone. He scooted sideways and spun around, leading towards a side door on the side wall. "Let's leave the workers with the work. The new procedure is running smoothly. I wanna show you something." He reached the side door and exited the barn building, turning towards his parked dirty dark blue tinted pickup truck and stopped at the passenger door. He opened the door and hopped onto the seat, sitting on the edge, smiling at his friend. Streg stopped and stood on the ground, even with a short Coup, staring at his army buddy.

On top of the seat, Coup reached down to the mat and pulled the first item from the floor, lifting it into his face. "This is a cloth bag of cold hard cash totaling twenty thousand dollars, in twenty bill dominations."

"Coup!"

Coup wore a stern face and told with a stern tone. "No! for once in your life, you are going to listen to the smarter male here. The bag is for you to survive whatever the hell is happening in your life. If you find that you need to run for your life from that woman, I wanna you to have some cash and then call me on this mobile telephone. This is one of my farm phones. If you are in trouble, then use it. If you think the enemy will find, then trash it. Don't matter to me! When I figure out the phone is trashed, I will cancel the service and take a write off on my federal income taxes while screwing the US Federal Government. So, please, take the phone and the money!"

He slapped the ugly jumpsuit with both of his naked hands, since he didn't own any personal items, not even a manly leather wallet, but his Alabama driver's license sitting flat inside the chest pocket, "I came here naked and dressed like a service worker. I only own the ugly one-piece jumpsuit. I must return with only the ugly one-piece jumpsuit. If she or they or it finds a bag of money and a cell phone on my person..."

"Steg! Streg! Streg! You have been locked away from the world, too long." Coup laughed and reached down, lifting up a plastic object in the format of a humanoid without arms and legs. "This is a new item, a plastic holder with long pockets for holding or hiding nicely packed money stacks that fit nicely over your chest and your back spine. All of the latest drug mules use this type of equipment, compliments of my smart DEA lady worker. You place each stack of cash down into a deep slot and then wear the plastic holder like a long vest over your chest and your back spine. No one will notice the lumps, since your ugly jumpsuit needs a talented clothes tailor for the severely oversized outfit over your tall lean body. You can hide the slender mobile telephone inside one of the plastic pockets also."

"That's a great idea! Thanks, Coup!" He accepted the long plastic holder, the bag of money, and the used mobile telephone from his friend, placing all of the items down on the ground, stuffing each stacked cash down into every pocket.

Coup continued to sit on the seat and watched Streg. "Hmm! When are you due to arrive with the boxes to Atlanta?"

"A little after dusk, in the nighttime hours, at eight o'clock."

"Yes, that's a terrible problem. You will make your scheduled appointment or barely miss your scheduled appointment, creating both chaos and suspicion. I got an idea. I got a group of arrogant Generation Z kids that love adventure, without fear. I'll send that group of teens out on an individual motorcycle. They can scout and smoke out the Alabama Highway patrol cars. I don't care if one or more of the teens get caught speeding and then arrested. I'll send my lawyers to get their hides out of jail. And I got lots of monies, loads of monies, tons of miles. I'm a billionaire, now, Streg. I wish you would consider coming to live here on my farm. I got plenty of farm and land property. You can design and build you a nice big house and yourself a nice girl, too. The county is filled with sweet females looking for a good man. You would really enjoy your new life here, eating the supper meal with me and my family."

Thanks, Coup! I'll think about it right after I survive this assignment," he continued to work on stuffing the thick stacks of sealed twenty dollars bills down into each plastic slot, finishing the job with a smile. He stood upright and ripped down the upper portion on the one-piece jumpsuit, squatting down, picking up the heavy plastic body holder that was spread with twenty thousand dollars in stack of twenties. He grunted from the heaviness and carefully slipped the long body fit over his bone skull wiggling it down his naked dark-colored muscular body, pressing down the plastic material. "It itches and its heavier than I would have though."

Coup laughed and studied Streg, feeling worry. Streg was working with that gang of nasty men and women, who worked for vile Senator Reed "Red Coat" British. Her greed, ruthless political repetition was known all over the great State of Alabama, but each simple-minded fool continued to elect the bitch. He smiled. "The weight of money."

The weight of relief."

Coup nodded. "I'll go and fetch you a tee shirt to cover over your naked chest. You're start sweating and expose the lumps of money."

"That's a good idea!" Steg continued to press each plastic pocket down into his body hiding his new possessions. Coup dropped down from the truck seat and passed Streg moving back into the barn building checking on the process, hunting down an extra-sized tee shirt for his tall friend.

Streg zipped up the jumpsuit which nicely covered the plastic body vest and the lumps of money, exhaling with relief, feeling still worried, but happy with a great friend like Coup. Streg felt bad that he didn't visit his friend more often, since their department from the last tour of duty but Streg had a traveling job and coup ran a fixed farm in the middle of nowhere. He looked up and squirted both of his eyelids at the blistering sunshine, sweating on his face and his neck, unzipping the jumpsuit, exposing the plastic vest of money stacks. The ground shadow from the bright sunlight announced one o'clock in the heated afternoon.

Inside his prisoner building, Streg had learned to tell time by shadows on the sands when he was bored inside his tiny jail cell.

At one o'clock, the group of nice workers were not finished with unloading baby parts, reloading chicken parts, and finally string back into the rental truck. Time was ticking away. Streg was getting worried while developing a new plan to save both Ikko and Julius, if that meant sacrificing his own life. He didn't mind. He didn't have any family members or kids or a wife or a girlfriend. The offer of a house and a wife and a future family here in Alabaster was looking very good, if Streg survived the night from the vile gang of criminals and crooks that pedaled illegally aborted human baby body parts.

However, he was angry that Senator British could get away with indirect cold-blooded murder, literally. He liked the prospect of an easy life on a farm with protection from his friend Coup. But he didn't like the senator and her evil partners continuing to murder helpless life forms. Streg was not a religious man but a spiritual soul, feeling his life's work had changed from a criminal life to an...assassin's life. He would suggest that Ikko and Julius come here and live on Coup's farm in safety and security for the rest of their lives.

Coup would not mind a pair of misfits. He is a true spiritual friend that believes in helping man-kind, woman-kind, and animal-kind, providing employment, monies, food, shelter, clothing, and other benefits for strangers. Streg only had to ask. Then Streg would be free to track, trace, and then treat each vile, evil person with a death act. He didn't mean to murder the first female President of the United States. However, the right investigations had popped up and exposed all of her crony criminal friends, who were all now six feet under the ground inside some unmarked grave stone, since the American public was outraged and wanted their severed bone skull, their dripping blood proteins, and some of their other body parts. Streg had heard through the grape vein inside the prisoner building that all of the arrested, trialed, convicted, and sentenced criminals were also stripped of their internal body organs going to sick patients that needed a new body part for live.

Now, that is the ultimate punishment, because any donated internal organ must stay warm and cozy inside the dying human body, until each internal body part is manually extracted through a very painful medical procedure using a surgery scalpel. Else, upon death, the body starts to rot from the inside making each internal organ useless for the sick patient.

During the baby abortion process, on each one of those abused babies, each baby was still alive and kicking and breathing within the mother's cozy womb while the evil medical physician quickly ripped out that particular intern organ, warm and bloody from the tiny fetus baby, going to some person for some evil ritual or some vile sick procedure.

On top of the grassy field, in Alabaster, Streg softly cursed and balled both of his hands into two tight fists. He will not accept the easy life; he will pursue and punish one evil doer, at a time, staring with Senator British. He did not know how but his faith in goodness and light would guide him into the righteousness and the right direction.

Coup returned and laughed out loud, stopping beside Streg, slapping the item into the man's arm. "Here! This should fit your giant body."

He turned and accepted the item, slipping over soft cloth over his body. The white tinted dress dropped down and touched the top of his kneecaps. Coup laughed out loud with amusement. Streg growled in angry. "What is this thing? This is not a manly man tee shirt. What am I wearing, Coup?"

Coup continued to point at the dress and chuckled with delight. "That dress belongs to one of my cooks. She's a great cook and is a very pretty queen-sized woman. She offered you her dress. The dress is cotton and lightweight, absorbing your stinky sweat and water molecules from your body. Don't whine, Streg! This is a great plan. You will success and come back here and live out a nice live with me and my cow," he laughed again. Streg continued to snarl while wearing a woman's dress, removing the plastic vest, redressing his body for the long trip to Atlanta.

One hour later, at 01:54 pm, in the blistering heat, in one of the tiny offices inside the horse barn, the unnamed female, who had worked for the US Federal government DEA agency moved from the barn and stopped, standing in front of Streg and Coup, nodding her curls. "Gentlemen, we are finished. The truck is reloaded with your new merchandise. You are ready to roll out again, Steg!"

Streg extended his hand to the female. "thank you! I really appreciate your brains and your brawn and your beauty."

She accepted his hand and shook it firmly. "It is my pleasure to screw the mighty USA government and all of her evil government leaders. If you need anything, ask through Coup, then I shall happily provide it to you, Streg"'

He smiled. "I will." She released his hand and spun around leaving the office.

Coup smiled at Streg without watching his employee. "She is single and lonely, Streg."

He spun around and hugged the shorter male. The moment was precious. His friend had provided a little hope and happiness for Streg and his two innocent crew mates. Streg didn't know if he would survive, but he was going to kill as many of the bastards as possible, before dying first. "Thanks for everything!"

Coup didn't grunt or laugh. His friend Streg was running with some evil people Coup wanted to send his own people and guns, but that would get innocent people killed and start the second American Civil War between the people and the government. He enjoyed the manly moment and prayed to Almighty god that Streg would survive the night.

Streg pulled back and nodded in silence to Coup without speaking, only acknowledging his final fate, spinning around, walking from the tiny office. Coup watched the back spine on Streg and lifted his personal telephone up into his face, dialing the familiar number, talking to the party.

Streg strutted towards the cab on the truck. The internal room was empty of workers, only pieces of silent equipment that had provided a new set of merchandise and extracted the tiny lost soul of an innocent baby, where each one of those abused babies was in good hands now going to become properly buried today. He stopped and opened the door, without checking the cargo and started the engine. This was it. He carefully drove away from the horse barn and left the farmland, steering onto the country rode, hitting the interstate roadway. He steered in a southern direction driving back to retrieve Ikko and Julius. He really wanted to deliver the new cargo alone to Atlanta, but Senator Bitch had threated his life and their lives. He didn't want to be responsible for two more innocent deaths. The interstate was slightly busy with traffic coming from the northern towns.

Streg drove swiftly in the right hand lane hoping to avoid any and all of the Alabama Highway patrol cars, when a gang of flashy motorcycles in colors of green, red, blue, silver, black, orange, and yellow buzzed ahead and also surrounded the truck. Streg growled at the annoying gang of biker blocking the roadway, reducing his driving speed. Time was of the essence for him and the delivery to Atlanta.

Then, the mobile telephone sounded with a familiar country song. Streg gasped in shock and looked down at the borrowed telephone. He had been relieved of his personal mobile telephone after his arrest of murdering the first female President of the United States. He had forgotten that Coup had given him the phone, reaching over, pressing the button on the dashboard that activated the speaker box inside the truck. He yelled into the speaker. "What!"

"Hey sir!" A deep male voice shouted back to Streg. "This is Taggard. I work for Coup. He told us to come here on the interstate and escort you back to the tiny town of Evergreen. So, we're here for you. Half of my gang are going to race ahead and scout out any smokies. If there is a patrol car, then the cop can chase after my friends, who will never be caught," he laughed. "The rest of us are going to lead you faster than light speed back to Evergreen and follow your rear bumper protecting you and the truck. So, rev up the engine, man, and full speed ahead. If you need something, just press the button on the truck's console. Coup rigged the telephone system for you to call and talk to me. I'm the leader of the wolf pack. Woooo!" He laughed. "Bye, sir!"

The telephone line disconnected. Streg shook his curls and laughed out loud at the brave and stupid teenagers, pressing the gasoline pedal, racing the engine and increased his driving speed to 85 miles-per-hour. The gang of motorcycles were lighter and faster than the heavy delivery truck, scattering sideways, forming a block formation around the truck, speeding through the wind on a pretty heated in the month of June.

Streg quickly prayed for protection from Almighty God over the silly teenagers. He didn't want another innocent to die over him and as he observed the gang of teens. The group was divided into two types of motorcycles. One set was a single motorcycle with a single biker, wearing a colorfully bright solid colored orange or yellow one-piece jumpsuit with a matching biker helmet. The helmet contained the communication devise in the format of a mobile telephone for talking to each other or with another party, like Streg. The second group of teens feathered two piggy back riders on a luxury motorcycle hugging each other, wearing either a bright neon colored yellow or an orange colored solid jumpsuit with a matching bike helmet also. So, Coup had instructed each teenager biker on both visual and vocal road motorcycle safety.

Streg felt better about his group of young adventuresome escorts now.

The single bikers left the main group and raced ahead scouting for any Alabama Highway patrol cars, where any biker could relay the new data back to the wolf leader pack through the communication helmet, avoiding arrest for them and Streg. The double riders led Streg and stayed with truck for both guidance and protection.

Inside the truck cab, Streg continued to race down a semi-busy interstate roadway with a smile. "Thanks, coup! The rest park in Evergreen is 135 miles south of Alabaster. At 60 miles per hour, the road trip will take two hours and fifteen minutes. At 70 miles per hour, the road trip will take two hour and ten minutes. At 85 miles per hour, the road trip will take almost two hours and one second. I'll take this one. Yeehaw!" He continued to speed down an almost empty interstate smiled with the personal escort from a gang of teenage bikers. "What a crazy day!"

Two hours and two minutes later, at 04:02 pm, Streg exited the interstate roadway, slowly driving over the smooth pavement into the rest parking lot facility, stopping the truck inside an empty spot. He blew the truck horn notifying Ikko and Julius of his presence. Ikko was smart enough to watch for Streg. Julius was off singing to the birdies.

On top of the pavement, from the grassy park, Ikko appeared and dashed ahead towards the parked truck, stopping a few feet from the side passenger door, waving both of her arms in the air. The gang of teen bikers slowly appeared and parked behind the truck watching and waiting for new orders from driver Streg, removing a helmet, wiping off a sweaty face, brushing back a head of wet hair. Each teen swung off the seat and stood upright from the motorcycle, stretching their limbs.

Ikko spun around and watched Julies with smile, whirling back around, waving with one arm at Streg. Inside the cab, Streg exhaled with annoyance. He had flown dangerously over the interstate roadway at 85 miles per hour without a speeding ticket from the police car or an accident on the roadway. He didn't want to doddle around the rest park, when they needed to leave and flew by heavenly angel wings to the city of Atlanta. He blew the horn again and growled at Ikko.

Ikko pointed back behind her collar bone at Julius, nodding her curls. Inside the truck cab, Streg gasped in alarm regarding the new trouble, opening the door, sliding down onto the pavement. He dashed around the front truck bumper and stopped in front of Ikko with worry, when Julius appeared and stood beside Ikko, toting a black and white colored medium-sized shaggy dog. Streg gasped in shock and then growled at Julius and then the dog, shaking his curls, "What is ..."

"...a dog?" Ikko reached over with laughter and gently patted the dog's furry bone skull, nodding to angry Streg. "This is a dog, Streg. Poor Streg! He was denied a puppy dog during his childhood."

"No." Streg continued to growl at the dog and shook his curls.

She smiled. "Yes, this is a dog."

Standing in the heated day, sweating in the sunlight on his face and on his chest still wearing the new female dress over his naked chest and the plastic body vest with the lumps of money, Streg yelled. "Ikko!"

Among the semi-circle of colorful motorcycles and colorful jumpsuits, behind the parked truck, some of the bolder and more curiosity teenagers appeared and gathered around Ikko, Julius, Streg, and the dog, listening to the adult conversation and patting the dog with smiles of happiness.

Streg exhaled with annoyance. "We ..."

Ikko turned and nodded to each teenager. "Who are your two new friends, Streg?"

One of the male teenagers smiled with his long blonde hair in a tight bun the rear of his skull, wearing a yellow tinted jumpsuit, pointing at the dog. "Hey, dude! That's a Border Collie breed dog. The collie is one of the smartest and loyalist canines in the world. You're lucky, man. You got a friend for life."

The female with short brown hair in a matching yellow tinted jumpsuit nodded and patted the dog. "A Border Collie breed exhibits high intelligence, extreme energy, both acrobatic and athletic doggie moves, and possesses fun playfulness, and is one of woman's best friends, too," she laughed with the other teens.

Ikko winked at Streg while giggling with delight from the new information. "I agree with the teen. Julius has a new friend for life."

"What's her name?" The female teen biker smiled at the dog.

"Her!" Streg gasped in shock.

Julius slowly rocked the medium-sized dog like a baby and nodded with a smile to each teen. "Her name is Dee Dee."

Ikko smiled. "That's a nice girly name, isn't it, Streg?" Streg growled at Ikko and then the dog. She laughed. "And Streg sounds just like a growling dog. That's a good imitation, Streg. Do you see and hear, Julius? Streg loves your pet dog."

Julius smiled at Streg. "Dee Dee needs dog food. She's hungry." Streg gasped in shock and stared down at the dog.

The same pale tinted teen with the man bun slapped his chest and pointed to this girl. "Hey, dude! Me and my girlfriend can go and get some dog food."

Streg frowned and shook his curls. "Later for the dog food! We need to go and leave from the res park, kids. Get back onto your bikes and head north on Interstate 65. Get into the truck, the rest of ya'll!"

The teen smiled, "No sweat, sir! Me and my girlfriend will ride ahead and buy some dog food. Then we can toss it into the open window on the truck. I'm the superstar baseball pitcher at my high school. I strike all of the baseball players from the mount. So, get ready and open the window. My girl will drive the cycle and I'll pitch the dry food into the open windows. Yeehaw! Let's go, baby! We need to get the dog some nutritious food." He spun around and hugged his girl, racing back to his luxury motorcycle, mounting the bike and replacing the helmet. They left the park before the rest of the teens and Streg for their new assignment.

On top of the pavement, near the truck, Ikko turned and studied the group of teens on each motorcycle. "Thank you, kids! That's a sweet gesture for Dee Dee. Who are these kids, Streg?"

Streg spun around and shouted out his command to the teens and his crew mates. "Get back onto your bike and into the truck! Teens, we're driving north on Interstate 65 and then heading due east heading to the city of Atlanta."

A second female in an orange tinted jumpsuit with a long black tinted ponytail smiled and nodded at the back spine on Streg. "Coup told us so and gave us the same driving instructions, sir." She spun around and waved her arm in the air, shouting out loud to the other teens. "You have heard our leader! Remount and roll out!" She dashed ahead and quickly mounted her bike, starting the warm engine, rolling off as the first biker from the group. The rest of the motorcycles followed the teen leader, leaving the rest park, hitting the interstate entrance ramp while watching for the truck with driver Steg.

Streg quickly raced ahead and re-entered the driver's seat, starting the truck with a huff of annoyance, watching on his two crew members.

Julius and the dog entered next loading into the rear seat. The dog cuddled with Julius. He smiled and patted the dog comforting the animal like a baby.

Ikko scooted into the passenger seat last. Streg drove carelessly from the rest park and entered the interstate, speeding down the roadway, making up the lost time while huffing out invisible steam puffs of angry at the new situation.

In the passenger seat, eating a new bag of potato chips from the broken food machine, Ikko watched the gang of motorcycles. One group drove swiftly ahead leaving the truck. The other group of motorcycles rode before and behind the truck. "Who are the teens, Streg? Did you get the new cargo items?"

Streg concentrated on his illegal speed driving, without killing one of the teen bikers, while whispering back to Ikko, without upsetting Julius and the damn dog. "Yes, I got the new cargo. My chicken farmer friend, who remains nameless, for safety purposes, provided the teenly escort. The single bikers are scouting for police cars, moving away from us. The other double riders are leading us towards Atlanta, annoying the other drivers on the same interstate roadway for speed. The time is 04:06 pm. We have precisely four hours and forty-five minutes of driving which does not include potty breaks and pit stops..."

She whispered back without bothering Julius. Her friend was very happy discovering and caring for the dog, during their long wait at the grassy park for Streg to return back and finish the dangerous assignment for Senator Reed British. She said. "Streg, I know that."

"What about that dog?" He softly growled.

"A Border Collie is naturally energetic, acrobatic, athletic, and playful. That dog is not. A collie wears a thick coat of soft fur. That dog's coat is shaggy and matted. The Border Collie breed receives skin scars and broken teeth during its devoted line of duty protecting herds of sheep from predators like wolves and coyotes. That dog wears too many skin scars on its shaggy and too many broken teeth in its mouth. The dog has been chewing on tree bark for food. A male Border Collie weights 40 to 45 pounds of muscle and hair. A female weighs 30 to 40 pounds of the same material. That dog barely weighs 20 pounds for its medium-built size. That dog has been starving for food. A Border Collie exhibits lots of energy and mental stimulation. Else the dog will chew up bed lines or furniture legs. That dog has been chasing after tires on each visitor automobile looking for its former master, who ditched that poor dog here with food and water. That dog's four paw pads are torn, bloody and rough from running over the hard pavement. A Border Collie possesses a thick coat of hair. That dog has lots of matted and shedding hair strands, where the dog has been living in the park for months and sweating from the intense heat. Some evil person tossed that dog into that park for their fun watching that dog starving to death or dying in the heat. And that dog is preg-nancy also. That dog is sickly and dying. I can see and smell the death odor. Julius knows that too. I suspect the puppies are sickly too and are dead or dying inside her flat stomach. She knows it too. This is so sad!"

Streg gasped in shock and continued to drive the truck, "What! How do you know that information? How do you know so much about canines?"

She nodded. "I was raised on a crop farm in the rural town of Fultondale. We cared and housed numerous types dogs, mostly for protection of the cows and the chickens and the pigs. So naturally, I want to learn everything about dogs, and I did. Please allow him and the dog was peace of mind before its time here on Planet Earth. Have a heart, Streg!"

Streg gasped in alarm and reached up, adjusting the rear view mirror, seeing the dog, returning both eyeballs back to the roadway while driving at high speed. "I am so sorry. I am a lot of nervous. The dog is fine. He can keep it until the end. For my selfish self, I don't like facing death without a hand gun or an escape plan."

"Look!" She exhaled with worry. "I feel the same way, Streg, but that is three hours away from here. Let's allow Julius his happiness with his new pet, before our next dangerous encounter with our new unfriends. Anyways, he is very quiet and is occupied with the dog without breaking into the locked door again inside the truck cab," she started ahead and dropped the bag of potatoes down on the floor with her internal mental thoughts of death.

"Agreed!" He drove over the interstate following the group of happy teens while still feeling deep worry for the dog, his two new friends Ikko and Julius and his person, praying for help from Almighty God, his son Jesus Christ, the Holy Spirit, and all of his heavenly angels.

Three hours and thirty minutes later, at 07:38 pm, after driving 85 miles per hour and sometimes faster over the main interstate roadway with heavy traffic and stopping three times for potty breaks and pit stops, Streg slammed the brakes and slowed the speed, turning the delivery truck onto the second avenue of tall steel-coated warehouses. The gang of teen motorcycles followed and then stopped behind the running truck. Streg ordered to his crew. "Stay inside! I gotta tell the teens to go home and go to bed." He laughed with Ikko, opening the door, sliding down onto the gray tinted hard pavement in the slowly sinking sunlight of a beautiful horizon on the western side of the buildings. He approaches the first biker and leaned down into the sweaty face on the male with red tinted pimples. "Thanks for the escort! Please tell Coup thanks from me too! Now, we have arrived at our final destination. So, all of ya'll go back home and report back to Coup."

"He told..."

"I am telling you as the leader of the troops now. Go home, teens! Drive safe and don't get arrested for reckless driving," he waved to the teens and dismissed them from the upcoming violent actions that might lead into a death match between Streg and some nasty soldiers.

The leader of the biker nodded to Streg and replaced his helmet, spinning around and motioned to the other teens, wheeling his motorcycle around, flying back down the city street. Streg stood his ground and watched each teen biker ensuring each one left the area for their home town and safety. Once the last red taillight was gone, he exhaled with worry and spun around, loading back into the truck, in silence. Julius cuddled the dying dog in silence with a face of tears.

Ikko was strong and fumed in fury with the upcoming fight while feeling sadness for the sickly mama dog and her friend Julius. Streg fiddled with gear and slowly drive from the wrong warehouse avenue down the proper one. The road was gray tinted and sprouted tall new and ancient steel-coated buildings. The evening was slowly commencing and as the solar sun was sinking down into the horizon, painting the sky dark and right for a fight with three convicted murderers.

Ikko turned and stared at each building while watching the numbers grow in silence feeling worry and angry. Streg slowly drove the truck and read each number on the building without seeing math number 189, because a row of smaller dark colored pickup trucks blocked the riding avenue with numerous stationary and upright figures, who each toted a gun. Streg slammed on the brakes, squeaking the four rubber on each tire, halting in place. He pulled out the envelope of cash and the driving instructions for the welcome invitation or something of a bribe for his life.

Ikko returned back to face the front windshield and gasped in alarm. "This is it!"

Streg growled. "Stay in here! Let me talk with them first! Let me figure out what the plan is! If one shoots me dead, then drive off with the cargo and then ditch the truck, running for your lives. I gave you the plastic body vest with the money. Run away and find your way back to Alabaster and the chicken farm. It is the only farm for miles in Alabaster."

"No! I'm not leaving you to die alone." She opened the door and slid off the seat, landing down on the pavement before Streg, strolling ahead to greet the new group of people.

Streg gasped in alarm and spun around, seeing Julius." Julius, we have arrived at our destination. You stay here inside the truck seat, until I come for you. Okay?" Julius looked up with a sad face and nodded in silence. Streg nodded back. "That's great, buddy!" He opened the door and slid off the seat, without slamming the door shut, racing around the door towards Ikko and the new row of men and women with guns.

Ikko was there laughing and waving both of her arms like attending a party. "Well, we are here. What is the next step? Do you wanna open the rear door? Do you wanna see the goodies?"

Streg stopped with a gasp and stood beside Ikko, cuddling her body for protection while studying each one of the strangers.

The middle male was tall with a ruddy face and dark skin, growling at Ikko. "Your job is done. No more questions! Get away from the truck! Where is the third person?"

"The third person is located inside the truck. His dog is sickly." Streg told.

"Get him and his dog outta of the truck right now!" The middle male ordered.

Ikko spun around and shouted out loud. "I'll go and get him!"

The middle male with a hand gun pointed his free hand and snapped at Streg, "You! Come with me, right now!"

"Me!" Streg slapped his chest with a sissy squeak. Ikko gasped in shock and spun around, watching Streg. The middle man spun around and headed into the open archway. Streg moved ahead with dread and unhappiness mentally thinking.

This is ti! I don't have a weapon but my hands and the surprise of attack. I can grab his hand gun and kill him first, then hide and kill all of the others with a hand gun, saving the princess and the unicorn, or maybe not.

Streg continued his mental battle of silence words and followed the shorter armed male through the night air, disappearing within the large warehouse internal walls.

On top of the pavement, Ikko could see Streg through the dull flood lights and stood in panic. She didn't know what to do or how to act for saving her new friend. One of the other males with his gun left the row of guards and guns, moving ahead, motioning with his free hand to Ikko and yelled out loud. "Go and get the third person! Get outta of the truck, right now!"

A female dashed from the stationary row of guards and guns passing the second guard, stopping in front of Ikko and reached out grabbing her arm, shoving Ikko towards the open building. "Change in plans! Get going this way! Finish up business here! We need to move out with the truck and get to working." The female guard spun around and swiftly moved with Ikko without speaking any more.

The second male reached the truck door, scooting onto the driver's seat, scanning the interior cabin and viewed the dog. "What's this?"

Julius looked up with a red-tinted face flowing with hot tears, "My dog is dying."

The male gasped in shock and then nodded. "Don't worry, pal! I'll go and get a roller table. You can take your dog home." He slipped off the bench seat and dashed back into the row of guards and guns, whispering a set of instructions to the one of the other guards.

On top of the pavement, near the opening of the archway, Ikko continued to slowly stroll with the female guard, assessing her options. She could hit the female and take the gun, saving Streg inside the warehouse first. Then they both could attack the rest of the guards with guns and save Julius. Or she could hit the female and take the gun, running back, stealing the truck and save only Julius, leaving Streg to die. She continued to ponder her new plan, when a loud gunshot noise echoed throughout the air waves, hitting her two eardrums which came directly from the internal walls in the warehouse. Ikko stopped in panic and gasped in alarm, racing ahead in panic, running through the archway.

The side walls of the warehouse were filled with stacks of metal boxes and heavy pieces of equipment. In the middle of the room, near the entrance archway, a green colored older model pickup truck stood with the engine hood raised in the air. Streg rested on the concrete floor, his face and body facing the edge of the driver's door. Ikko gasped in alarm and called out his name. "Streg!" They had killed Streg here inside the warehouse. And she was the next dead person. She raced ahead and slid down over the concrete floor, slamming into his back spine.

Streg grunted in pain and wiggled sideways laughing out loud, flipping around and smiled at Ikko. "I don't think this piece of crap can run." He sat upright on his kneecaps and leaned into her face whispering for her eardrums. "I'm okay. Senator Red Coat has another mission for us. Act cool. Stay calm!" She nodded in silence and wiped off the tears of worry, slowing standing with Streg. He and her faced the truck. He pointed at the vehicle and shook his curls, pointing at the truck. "Did you hear my words? I don't think this piece of crap can make the four hour trip back down to mobile. Don't you have a better piece of crap for our new assignment, buddy?"

Through the archway door, two of the meal guards shoved a short silver tinted naked rolling gurney with the Border Collie dog on top. Julius strolled behind with a red tinted sad face and rolls of hot tears moaning his sick dog. The people with the dog stopped and stood a few feet from Streg and Ikko.

The first men without his gun shook his head down at the exposed engine, reaching up, grabbing the metal, and slammed the engine hood shut. He looked at Streg. "Well, the engine is intact and okay. The muffler is all messed up. That why's it backfires. The truck is good to go. Get inside and get moving, ya'll!" He laughed. "You're right, worker bee! It's going to take ya'll the rest of the night to travel back down and see Queen Bee in Mobile, before eight am." He nodded and back stepped form the engine hood, smiling at Streg, pointing at the vehicle.

Streg nodded with a sour frown and opened the door, sliding down into the driver's seat, cranking the old engine on the ancient truck. The muffler rattled and then backfired with a single loud noise. Everyone cringed and then covered their eardrums.

One of the two other men shoved the gurney towards the rear door on the pickup truck and stopped, opening the door, lifting the dying dog onto the rear bench seat. Julius scooted around the rear bumper and slid onto the opposite of the same seat, cuddling the stray dying dog with lots of warm love and compassions.

The other man stopped and whispered to Ikko. "He said that you were his friend. I gave the dog some cocaine to relief its pain. The dog is really sick and dying. The medication will ease the dog's pain during your long trip home. I don't like to see an animal suffer either. You know, I can..."

"No! He was get upset with that idea. Thanks for your kindness. He and the dog are happier together," she nodded with a smile to the stranger.

He nodded. "I got a houseful of dogs. I love the canines."

She said. "Thanks for your help. He and I really appreciate it."

"No problem! Good luck!" He spun around and left the truck and the new crew, heading back to the truck. His job was to help unload the cargo with the forklift then he would be paid in cash supporting his family.

Ikko exhaled with worry and sadness for the dying dog and her friend Julius, scooting around the front of the truck, opening the passenger door and slid down into the seat in silence. She was confused at what happened here but was happy that she was alive and breathing for the rest of the nigh.

Streg revved the engine and nodded to the row of guards, slowly steering the old truck from the warehouse internal, down the avenue. A crew of forklifts and men were unloading each heavy black tinted metal box that contained a dead chicken part, not the original aborted human baby organ. Streg didn't comment as he didn't want Julius to learn of the switch. He mental thought that some of the unsuspecting guards might get murdered tonight or tomorrow night, once the owner of the boxes discovered the truth. He felt sorry the men and the females, who were trying to make a living in America. However, there are harder jobs with honest dollars, also.

Streg pressed the gasoline pedal, when the muffler backfired again, creating a cloud of black tinted smoke that disguised the rear of the truck while pushing the ancient truck to its limits.

Several minutes down the city street, at 09:09 pm, in the heat of the night with beams of moonlight rays, Streg felt comfortable that a car was not tailing the pickup truck and he could safety converse with Ikko, without disturbing Julius, who was resting on the floor leaning over the bench seat, cuddling the dying dog and, sobbing with his sad feelings.

Streg drove with a new smile and several head nods. "Well, that went well. I'm totally shocked and surprised as the old saying goes."

Ikko didn't bother to view the sights of Atlanta buildings or signs, staring out the front windshield. "I am just as relieved and shock like you, Streg. I guess this is our new life of ..." she exhaled with depression. "I can't even say the word."

"I can't either. We need to drive all night inside this piece of shit truck. If we get stuck on the highway, I gotta walk to a pay phone and call..."

"We got a mobile telephone from your friend Coup."

Streg gasped in alarm. "I forgot about the borrowed mobile telephone. I gotta return the phone and money, taking a detour through Alabaster on our way back down to Mobile. Coup give me the two items in case, we needed to escape with our lives, living in a hotel room, not on the streets. Well, our lives are breathing. I feel bad for the bad guys when they discover something new."

She shook her curls. "I don't think those are really the bad guys and gals here. I think they are only more worker bees like us."

"What makes you think that?'

"They helped a sickly dog. Bad guys don't carry emotions or possess souls."

Streg laughed with a nod. "Right!"

She nodded with a smile and then gasped in alarm, clutching her throat. "Stop the truck! Stop the truck!"

He gasped in alarm and slowed the speed, easing the truck into an open shopping market, stopping the vehicle. He turned and stared at her nose profile." What is it? What's wrong? Are you sick? Are you hurt?"

In the passenger seat, Ikko continued to clutch her throat and stared through the windshield. "Kill the engine. Kill the engine. Get out! Get out! We need to look inside the trunk with the leather cover." She opened the door and scooted off the seat, leaving the door open, dashing towards the rear end of the truck.

Streg gasped in alarm and softly cursed. "Shit!" He opened the door and slid off the seat, leaving the door open also, racing to the back of the truck and stopped, standing beside Ikko.

She continued to stare at the cover and whispered with worry. "Can you lift that cover up from the truck bed?"

Streg didn't bother to answer and reached over, pulling up each prong, gently lifting the upper section of the leather cover, exposing the new cargo. He gasped in fear. "O no!"

"O yes!"

He said. "What is it?"

"There are more heavy black tinted boxes with a metal box that holds an electronic code inside the trunk bed. These crooks are very sophisticated with computers. The cargo contains packs of cocaine."

He gasped in shock and continued to hold the leather cover. "No! No! No! You can't know that! You don't know that! That can't be possible! We were standing there, when they worked on the truck. You didn't see the cargo items."

"I know that. We were not present before they loaded the rear end of the truck. One of the nice and compassionate guards told me that he gave the dog a pinch of cocaine to ease its pain for the long trip back to Mobile and he called medication. Cocaine is used as medication in the proper hospital setting to a sick patient for pain relief. The cocaine is easing the dog's pain but will also slowly stop the steady heart rate on the dog. The dog will die in peace. But what about us?"

He nodded. "We need to see and verify your working theory. Can you kindly ask Julius to come around and open one of the metal boxes again? Will he do that for us?"

"Yes, he will do that for me. You go back and set in the truck, so he doesn't get upset or something."

"Yeah! Yeah! I will do that," Streg folded the new leather cover in half at the seam, exposing the first three rows with a set of smaller black tinted boxes for Julius, scooting sideways, moving back into the driver's seat and pondered the next hours of his life.

Ikko exhaled with worry and calmed her emotions, shuffling back to the rear seat, opening the door, asking the question to Julius. He left in silence his dying dog on the rear bench seat and padded to the rear of the truck, using his magical fingers, opening the first box and then returned back to his dog.

Ikko stood in place and stared at the open box without lifting the lid, exhaling with fear, inhaling in courage. She reached out and touched, gently lifting the lid, seeing the items and gasped in horror. She looked up and scanned the immediate environment for another person, seeing only the stillness of the night, hearing distance sirens for an emergency. She did not close the lid without relocking the box and back stepped in fear, scooting around the rear bumper, padding down the side of the truck and topped at the open window, viewing Streg. She leaned down and whispered, without bothering Julius, to Streg. "Packages of white tinted dry substance. Do you wanna take a guess of my verification?"

"Shit!" He slowly slid from the driver's seat and moved with Ikko back to the rear of the truck, viewing less than one hundred white tinted packages inside the first box also, exhaling with worry. "We need to do something this time to save our asses, this time. Now, I understand the use of the older truck. First, no police officer will guess that the truck is hauling packages of illegal cocaine. Second, the police officer will not stop us for polluting the air. This is the great State of Alabama," he laughed alone and reached out, grabbing one of the packages, placing inside one of the many pockets on the ugly tan colored, dirty jumpsuit. He slowly closed the leather cover back over the cargo.

Ikko exhaled with worry and stared at the boxes. "We need to get going and arrive before dawn to Mobile, sleeping in the truck, guarding the stuff with our lives. Now, I understand why we are to sleep in the truck and not rent a roach motel room. All of this making more sense. These criminals are thorough, if not smart." She gasped. "What are you doing?"

"I have another idea," he slammed the cover back down over the boxes and secured the locks.

"You first wild and crazy idea is going to get us killed."

"Then, my second wild and crazy idea want harm us," he laughed and spun around, moving back to the driver's seat. "Get back into the truck! We need to drive."

She rushed ahead and re-entered the truck, looking back at Julius and then turning to see the nose profile on Streg with worry and angry. Streg started the engine and slowly steered the truck back onto the city street.

A few minutes later and one mile down the street, at 09:29 am, Streg turned into the first lighted gas station, parking beside the first gasoline pump, pulling out money from the paper bag, handing to her. "Go and pay for the gasoline. Then purchase lots of snacks and drinks, like we are visitors through the great State of Georgia. And get receipts of everything. I'm going to go into the Men's Bathroom first. Then Julius needs to go the bathroom next. We have a long haul with the stuff back down to Mobile. I don't wanna stop but for potty time and pits stops."

She frowned. "What are you doing?"

He opened the door. "Go and get the gas and the snacks," Streg left the truck and strutted to the bathrooms on the side of the building, entering the single room. He spun around and locked the door, slipping out the mobile telephone and the pack of cocaine. He first snapped pictures of the package and then called his friend Coup. "Coup, are you awake?" He laughed.

Paused.

"You're a good guesser. I got another new illegal assignment, hauling packs of cocaine down Interstate 65 back to Mobile down into the hands of Red Coat British."

Paused.

Streg laughed again. "I like that plan." He waited and then smiled. "Good morning, lady! Each pack is loaded into another black tinted box with a metal box." He listened to her words. "You're very good. That's exactly the setup!" He listened to her words again. "All right! I understand. I'm on the outskirts of Atlanta right now. It'll take more four hours or more to reach Alabaster. I'm driving a shitty truck that only goes forty miles per hour." He said. "Coup!" He nodded with a smile. "All right! That's a plan! We are all gassed up and ready to roll. Call me when the tow truck is close to me. Thanks, again, Coup! I really appreciate you and your workers," Streg disconnected the telephone line and used the bathroom, cleaning his hands, placing the pack of cocaine back into his jumpsuit and left the bathroom. He slowly moved through the store and viewed Julius, who moved to the bathroom setting for relief also. Streg stopped and purchased a cup of hot chocolate and purchased a cold sandwich of different meats for the long trip, paying with Coup's money, tossing the receipt in the trash. He left the store and returned back to the truck, settling into the passenger seat.

Ikko had purchase plastic bags of floor that rested at his feet. She sat in the driver's seat, without eating or drinking. "I'll drive part of the way to Mobile."

"Okay!" Streg ate the food.

Julius was moaning over the dying dog in the rear seat. Ikko started the engine and slowly drove the truck back onto the city street eventually hitting the interstate, cruising at forty miles per hour with an occasional cloud of black smoke from the muffler.

Few minutes later, Streg finished the food and then burped out loud with satisfaction, reaching down, rattling the plastic bags and pulled out a bag of chips, opening the bag, grabbing one chip. "All right! In the bathroom, I called my friend. He is working on some fake packages that will replace the original ones." He ate the chip and munched on the tartness.

Ikko gasped in shock and continued to drive. "What! How! How is that possible."

My friend has lots of talented workers. I don't wanna detail too much information, since I might have to kill you." He laughed with Ikko. "So, we drive south, until we meet the two truck."

She gasped again, "What! What tow truck?"

He exhaled with annoyance. "I told my friend about the slow-moving transport to his farm. He has sent out a tow truck that will tow the truck back to his chicken farm at a faster pace than forty miles per hour. At this rate of speed, we will arrive..."

"...at six o'clock in Mobile," she frowned. "I can calculate math numbers in my brain cells, too. Now, I understand why we are will not die. They will work us to death."

He laughed. "Yeah, I agree. The tow truck will take the truck and all of us back to his chicken farm for a hot meal, a hot shower, a cool room for sleeping while his workers create new packs of white tinted substances."

"You cannot substitute the plant of cocaine. I know. How is your friend going to do that?"

He swallowed the lump of chewed food particles. "I didn't know the details. We will find out when we arrive at his farm. I don't really care either. I agree with our statement. Red Coat British only wants a group of mules to deliver her cargo. I personal don't' believe that she knows if the cargo is true or not, because she gets stacks of cash that she hides in her mattress. So, we do this last run and then we run away with the next cargo assignment straight to my friend's farm. My friend has offered to house and feed and protect us for the rest of our lives. What do you think?"

She smiled and continued to drive. "I like your friend. Is he able to care for all of us at his farm? I mean, I vote for freedom, instead of prison or death. But I do not own anything including my own clothes, much less a hidden bank account of money. I was not a bank robber," she giggled.

"My friend is rich, rich, rich. He feels that it is his American and Christian duty to help the poor, the stupid, and the innocent crim-animals."

She laughed. "I like your friend."

"Me, too!" He ate the potato chips and enjoyed the ride at 09:47 pm in the evening.

One hour and one minute later, at 10:48 pm, 57 miles due west of the city of Atlanta, on an empty and lonely Interstate 20 roadway underneath a full moon and twinkling stars of heated air, the ancient pickup truck's engine roared in loud noises, not motor power, slowly performing a putt-putt motion on highway, moving towards the Alabama state line. Ikko continued to drive and worried in silence with her future employer, the nasty and mean Senator Reed British, pondering new plans for her life. Streg closed both of his eyelids, resting his tired body and his worried mind inside the ratty brown tinted leather passenger seat. Julius continued to rest on top of the floor stroking while whispering his sweet words of compassion to the dying dog. The dog was silence and unconscious without doggie pain coming from the pinch of illegal cocaine drugs.

The borrowed mobile telephone loudly sung a familiar country musical song. Ikko gasped in shock and continued to drive. Julius ignored the loud noise. Streg stirred into consciousness searching his lap for the ringing phone, finding the item and swished the familiar icon and lifted into his face, whispering his reply. "Yeah!" He listened to Coup, without interrupting. Then he asked Ikko. "Where is the truck located on the interstate roadway?"

He leaned over and allowed her to speak into the mobile telephone to coup." We just passed the Tallapoosa Welcome Center heading west on Interstate 20 here in the great State of Georgia. We are three miles from the Alabama state line." She listened to Coup and then nodded. "I got it! Cross the state line and travel one mile on the Interstate and then exit off, driving onto the Robert S. Hardy Welcome Center and park the truck. You will come and get us. I got it! Thanks!"

Streg returned the phone back into his face and smiled. "She got it! We'll see you in a few more minutes. Thanks!" he disconnected the phone and replaced down into his lap, yawning from exhaustion, wiping off the hard sleepy crumbs from his two eyelids, blinking both his brain cells and his two eyeballs into focus. He didn't both to repeat the instructions to the driver. Ikko had proven herself as a good partner and a great friend on the dangerous assignment. Streg wondered about her criminal past and her prison time. Well, he would plenty of time asking her tons of questions about her life, once this new assignment was done.

Ikko focused on driving and passed the state line, slowing the truck speed, looking for the exit in the midnight darkness on the interstate, using her turn signal as a good driver. She turned off the interstate and slowly steered down another smooth roadway, entering a parking lot which was filled with large semi-tractors trucks, picking a spot near on the other side of the building in the clearing for the tow truck to collect the ancient pickup truck. She parked underneath the stars and killed the engine, opening the door, whispering to Streg. "I need to go to the girly bathroom and wash my face, stretching my legs. Julius is fine here inside the truck. We both can leave him here until the tow truck arrives," she slid off the seat and landed down on the hard pavement, leaving the door open and slowly strolled toward the building in silence. The day had been long. She looked forward to a hot bath and a flat mattress, sleeping until she was needed to complete this new assignment.

In the passenger seat, Streg nodded in silence and opened the door, sliding down from the seat without closing the door, spinning around and rushed to the end of the building and stopped at the edge of the manicured grass watching for the tow truck. He was alert and paced back and forth with new energy, wonderful, and puzzlement checking the phone screen, scanning the new environment.

Each Welcome Center within the US State of Alabama appeared the same within the eyeballs on Streg. An ancient square shaped building in reddish-brown brick with three or four sides with glass windows that were always dirty from sticky fingers of kids or dirt balls of weather patterns. The building did not contain people or furniture, only a solid wooden table with pamphlets of Alabama vacation spots and a wall of vendor machines of fresh food items. The outside grounds were covered in cut green tinted grass, without pods of flowers or groves of trees surrounding two gray tinted parking lots for each visitor vehicle. The grassy park provided a rest stop for any traveler, during the daylight hours and a parking spot for each semi-tractor driver for sleep, during the nighttime hours.

The mobile telephone chimed with the familiar country song. Streg answered on the second ring, listening to Coup. "I got it! I see the headlights on your truck, Coup! The pickup truck is parked behind me at the end of the building." One pickup truck, two full-sized work vans, and a large tow truck slowly passed a stationary Streg, heading towards the target item. Streg spun around and dashed ahead stopping beside the pickup truck.

The door opened and revealed Coup. He smiled and slowly climbed down from the gigantic truck that boosted his ego, not his body. Streg had the urge to assist the little guy down from the tall seat but continued to stand in place with a bright mile. Coup struggled down and then spun around, nodding to Streg. "How do you wanna handle your two crew mates? I understand one is a little sensitive. How is the dog?"

He nodded. "I think the dog is almost dead. She is asleep and does not move or howl. I would suggest we allow her friend Ikko to talk with the dog owner, before loading the pickup trunk onto the tow truck."

Ikko appeared and stood beside Streg, extending her hand, nodding with a smile. "Hi! My name is not needed here. You must be the friend of Streg. Streg is a good spy. He never reveals old or new information." They all laughed. She nodded. "I'll go and tell Julius that the old truck is broken and needs to be towed to the hotel, where we will sleep for the evening. I see a pickup truck and two work vans. Which van is ours?"

Coup nodded and pointed at each van. "Each van contains a soft mattress with linens sheet..."

"What! No satin sheets for my naked butt!" Streg laughed with his friends.

Coup smiled. "I didn't have enough time, darling! Each one can pick a van and go to sleep. Or You can ride in the front sleep, without sleep. I just provided more options for the long drive back to my home town, which will not be named either." They softly chuckled.

Ikko decided. "I will ask Julius to ride and rest his tired bones and his aching heart inside one of the vans with his dog. Is it okay that his dying dog comes with him?"

He slapped his chest and nodded with a stern face. "I insist his pet dog come with us. Once the dog passes, we can hold a proper burial on my farmland. I possess a pet sanctuary for all deceased pets, that were owned by young children. The place and the act help each child understand death and accept the loss of their pet. You and your friend go ahead and get into the van, once you are ready to live, tell the driver. He'll drive you back to our secret place," Coup nodded.

She smiled. "Thank you! I'll go and explain to Julius what he needs to do. Gemma a few minutes here!" Ikko scooted sideways and approached the ancient green tinted truck, talking with Julius.

"Take your time! We have all night!" Streg nodded with a smile. "What's the plan of action, Coup?" He scooted backwards from the line of vehicles and stood near the dark wall on the welcome center building with his friend, plopping on top of the pavement while listening to the new plan.

Coup sat down beside Streg. "My DEA lady is smart. She is right now mixing up a pot of fake cocaine."

He shook his curls. "How is that even possible?"

"She's very smart a lady and she is single, Streg. The product of cocaine comes from the coco leaves which is native to the country South American. The product of cocaine is used as medical medication for a sick patient in a hospital setting and in cosmetics for women and other useful, not harmful purposes, except the biggest use is recreational fun for getting high and leaving the planet, I guess. Since I am not a recreational user of any illegal drugs. Anyways, the product of cocaine appears as a white, crystal powder in its final cooked form. The white powder resembles cornstarch..."

"No!" Streg gasped. "Are you building bags with baking cornstarch flour?"

"No."

"The product also looks like talcum powder or cooking flour. No! I am not building packages of fake cocaine from either, either. The product comes from a chemical process which extracts out the alkaloid content from the plant leaves giving the white color and the taste. Alkaloid is natural occurring organic compound made by Almighty God which includes the products of morphine drugs and atropine poisons. Alkaloid organic compound is present in cocoa beans, coffee beans, tea leaves, black pepper beans, and honey..."

"Honey is..."

"...not used..." Coup laughed. "Honeysuckles..."

"What! I'm confused, Coup!"

Coup slapped his kneecap and nodded with a smile. "We used the leaves and the flowers from honeysuckle vines that grow over the ground, the gates, the branches, the tree bark on my farmland. The honeysuckle leaves and flowers contain almost the same natural occurring organic compound of alkaloid."

Streg gasped in shock, "What! They're going to know. They're going to find out. They're going to kill me."

"Relax, Streg! They will not know. Once they try a tiny sample from one of the numerous fake cocaine packages, it will taste bitter and contain almost the same measurement of alkaloid on their human tongue. My DEA lady is smart and knows her stuff. Anyways, once you deliver this piece of last cargo items, you will run away and come here living with me. The end!"

Streg nodded with a fake smile and a fluttering stomach of worry. "All right! I can do that. That's a brilliant plan. But what about the users of the cocaine?"

Coup buzzed his lips and then sneered. "I don't care about drug users."

"If the drug users use the fake cocaine, they could die or become really sick."

Coup nodded. "I am not in the drug business. I am here helping you and your two friends get out of the drug business with Senator Red Coat British. The bad guys will come after her hide. She accepted the money from them. The end!"

Ikko appeared and slowly escorted Julius with his dying dog into one of the vans, securing him and the dog on top of the soft mattress. She closed the door and signaled the driver. The driver of the first van slowly left the welcome center, driving back to the city of Alabaster. Ikko stood in place and watched the taillights on the van disappear into the darkness, spinning around, looking for Streg and find him with his unnamed friend on the ground against the side wall on the building. She waved goodbye in silence and then turned, approaching the second family van, climbing into the mattress for some serious sleep. The driver closed the door and spun around, waving to Coup. Coup waved back for the driver to leave the welcome center also.

On the side wall, Streg stared at the second van with his new friend Ikko. "Where are my two friends staying the night, inside the van?"

Coup watched the red tinted taillight on the van also, "No! I got each one a hotel room on the edge of town for the night. Each driver will arrive and register the room assuming the occupant of the room and then will release each friend into their private room along with the dog. Each one of your friends can order room service and eat anything they want, even for the dog. If there is any trouble, your friends can come and stay with me. I didn't want to share any more information."

"That's a wise choice. Where do I stay the night?"

"You can stay at my house. I have warm room and a hot tub for you. Or you can stay at the same hotel. I have separate hotel room for you there also."

Streg exhaled with exhaustion and decision returning back, seeing the tow trunk. The ancient green colored pickup truck was loaded onto the flat ramp. The driver was slowly moving ahead, heading back to Coup's farm. He slowly stood upright and wiped off the dirt, nodding with a smile. "You know, I wanna..."

"...see Red Coat British's ugly distorted face, when she learns there is an individual dead chicken part inside each one of her precious black tinted boxes, instead of the original order. Someone is not going to be happy." Coup stood upright and laughed out loud, slowing moving back to his truck with Streg as both of them continued to laugh at the executed plan. "Let's go home, Streg! I tired of beating the bad guys," he chuckled with delight and loaded back into the truck, cranking the engine.

At 11:51 pm, Streg landed down in the plush leather passenger seat and leaned back, closing his two eyelids, dropping down into slumber as Coup drove them back to his farm for rest and safety.

On July 2nd, Monday, another heated morning, at 03:30 am, Streg arrived back at the hotel building, loudly knocking on Ikko's hotel room door. She answered within seconds and gasped in shock.

"My friend," he frowned. "Let me backup. The tow truck driver is towing that shitty truck from its temporary home within the city of Alabaster down into the outskirts in the town of Poarch, getting off Interstate 65, pulling onto Jake Springs road. Then we will assume the trip driving that truck the rest of the land distance to Mobile, which is 50 miles or one hour and thirty minutes of sheer torment," he laughed with Ikko.

She smiled, "Awe! You're a sweet treat, Streg. You brought Julius a new dog."

He cuddled the young puppy with love also. "Coup, he offered the puppy. He heard the terrible stories from the driver and felt sad that the dog was abandoned and then hurt and now dying. He thought Julius would become very upset after the death of his pet."

She exhaled and nodded with a smile. "The dog died this morning at 2am while Julius banged the hingers off my hotel door. He and I buried the dead animal down in the woodlands behind the hotel. I don't really care if I was okay or not. I broke the ceramic lamp and used the base as a shovel. Julius wasn't in a frame of mind for digging with a sharp instrument."

"You are a smart lady."

She winked with a chuckle, "I know. He'll be very happy with the new puppy and we are ready to leave also. I'm sorry about the lamp. The hotel manager will charge our friend for the damage of the lamp in my room and the smell of death in the other hotel room."

"It's okay. The damage was for a good cause. Coup is rich, rich, rich. Before we leave the nice hotel and the buried dead dog, there is some time, before our rousing next adventure together. I want you to tell me your criminal story."

"What!" She gasped in shock.

He entered the room and squatted down releasing the puppy onto the carpet. The puppy yelped out loud and then dropped down its muzzle, sniffing the dirty carpet. Streg scooted backwards and sat down in the chair, nodding with a smile to Ikko. "Tell me the story of you and Julius! This might be our last chance. I don't know what the future holds," he laughed with her.

She scooted backwards and sat down on top of the messy bed mattress, nodding with a smile, watching the puppy. The puppy ventured into the wall corner near the curtains and squatted down on its two hind legs, clearing a tiny space, peeing on the carpet. After its bodily function, the puppy lifted up and dashed around the room, yelping at the tall legs on each furniture item. Ikko laughed with Streg and then exhaled with disappointment, staring at Streg. "Julius and I were a pair of prison guards. I graduated from the police academy before Julius and was assigned as the check-in girl at a naked office desk typing the information on the laptop computer, before the first set of iron prison bars. The prison warden thought a female would distract violent attention from the rough and tough prisoners, which I admit, it did work. I got lots of dates but not serious boyfriend," she laughed and shook her curls. "I never touched or talked with any of the male prisoners. Julius's body was built for hard core violence. He could manhandle any rough or tough or angry or unstable prisoners with his brute strength. We worked during the third shift of dangerous and intrigue at the local prison facility for two years. Then, one overheated and overcrowded night, a prison riot broke out inside the recreational area. Julius was called and entered the room, tossing each fighting male body all over the place, like normal. However, one of the prisoners possesses a tiny kitten."

"What the fuck!" Streg gasped in shock.

"Yeah, what the fuck!" She nodded with a sour frown. "Julius lost his mind, at least, his tough personality that night. He saw the kitten and melted into a pile of jelly, dashing ahead, reaching out, grabbing the arm on the prisoner with the tiny kitten. He grabbed the kitten and tossed the prisoner into the wall, making the male unconscious. The rest of the bad prisoners joined the fight while Julius continued to protect the tiny kitten. The other prison guards joined the new fight, tossing bodies from Julius. I heard the terrible commotion of screams and yells and left my assigned prison post.

"O shit!"

"Julius became confused still protecting the kitten and grabbed the arm on of the prison guards by mistake, thinking he was going to harm the kitten. Julius slammed the head of the guard into the all making him unconscious."

"O shit!"

She nodded with a stern face. "Yeah, I arrived in time to see an upset Julius and entered the recreational room, without permission, of course. One of the prisoners attacked me. I can defend my person with my body, my hands, and my gun. But you know that. Julius was upset and continued to attack every prisoner and each prison guard, until one of the guards shot Julius in the back spine with a taser weapon. Julius hit the hard floor with his body and smashed the tiny eight-week-old little kitten, screaming and crying in pain and sadness. After each bloody or unconscious prisoner was returned back into their personal prison cell, Julius was not moved from the dirty floor inside the recreational center. He was too big to move and laid there all night and all day. I lost my shit and started screaming at everyone, including the warden. A long story shortened. I was discharged from my working police job along with Julius, of course. However, our fairy tale turned into a demon tale. One of the prisoners died and numerous prisoners were injured in the prison medical ward along with numerous police officers. Julius was secretly tried, without a jury of peers in a legal courtroom, and found guilty of murder, placed inside his own personal prison cell. I was his partner."

"O shit!"

"Yeah, lots of dog shit hit the twin propellers on that flying airplane in the sky that morning. I was arrested, convicted, and sentence with murder and obstruction and other charges that my mind does not want to recall. So, we were place in a special prison cell, on the other end of the building, because we were a pair of former police officers. I wasn't mad a Julius. He was upset that the kitten had died. If the kitten hadn't died, then everything would have been cool. No person knows the trouble inside a prison facility. Anyways, like you, one day, the warden shows up and wears a sneer, ordering our release. We both were escorted from our assigned prison cell for a life term by a pair of black suits. At first, I was confused, until I see the long shiny limousine and the fake plastic face on Reed Cathy 'Red Coat' British. Then I know that I was screwed for the rest of my days and nights. So, I have decided to act like the mother over Julius. He is not dumb, but slow-thinking and he did not understand why he was inside a jail cell. But Julius was nice and humble and meek like he had been before the death of the kitten and the terrible fight inside the recreational center. The prison warden only employed Julius for his muscles, not matter. Then, we were taken from our new home and given to another human like selling a farm cow. Julius didn't understand why he was in a limousine. We slid down onto the smooth leather bench seat and then drove from the local prison facility, stopping in front of the Coast Guard Administration building. I am a military kid, but I do know the building is not filled with guns and warriors, but offices and desks. There, we collected you which started of our lovely new story."

Streg nodded with a smile. "Thank you for sharing your demon tale. Now, I don't fill special." He laughed with her and stood upright. "Let's move! There is another van for Julius and his new puppy and a second van for us. I'm beat after sleeping for less than three hours. I'm not a young man anymore," he chuckled. "And there are numerous boxes of warm and cold food items inside the van for both man and beast," Streg spun around and scooted to the next room.

Ikko left her damaged room and scooted sideways, pounding on the door. Julius appeared within seconds and gasped in shock, leaving the room, smelling like a walking cow, without bathing or washing his dirty face and arms, after burying the dead dog, this morning. He immediately headed to Streg and hugged Streg and the dog, pulling back, accepting the puppy. He stood in place and cuddled the puppy and as the puppy nipped at his fingers and face.

Ikko smiled with delight. "Julius, we are ready to leave our old home. There is another van for you and the puppy traveling down to Mobile. And there is food inside the van for you and puppy. Let's all go and get into the van!" She spun around and led Julius. He slowly moved ahead and cuddled the puppy, mumbling his words at the cute animal. Streg spun around and smiled with delight at the happy moment until his gut started worrying about the upcoming visit with Senator British.

They left the hotel building, moved outside in the humid air waves and dark night sky, entering into one of the two work vans, compliments of Coup, again. Each van driver started speeding on the interstate beating the six-thirty time deadline to the city of Poarch. The tow truck driver was ahead of the two vans, driving fast also to the final destination.

Streg ate some of the food and then leaned down resting on top of the long bench, sleeping for another few hours until he was required to drive the ancient green tinted pickup truck back to Mobile.

Ikko picked over the food baskets and munched on a few items, still worrying about her life with Senator British, the chicken parts in the first cargo load, and now packages of fake cocaine bags inside the ancient pickup truck, hoping to live after eight o'clock. Once she chewed up the food and filled her hungry stomach, Ikko leaned down and rested on the comfortable long bench seat, staring at Streg and then closed both of her two eyelashes for some slumber.

Two hours and ten minutes, at 05:28 am, the sun twinkled in the horizon, without awakening the two passengers. The van driver pulled off the Interstate 65 and stopped on the side of the road, in the dirt, staring at the green tinted pickup truck. The truck was running blowing out black tinted puffs of smoke in the clean air waves. The driver stopped beside the first van driver and blew the horn, rousing Streg and Ikko.

Streg shot upright and blinked both of his eyelids open and then shut, studying the new environment, yelling at her friend. "Ikko, get up. We're here. Get into the tuck! We need to leave. You can sleep on the way!" he exited the van and thanked the driver, rushing to the second van, opening the door.

Julius happily exited the van with the puppy and entered the rear bench seat on the old truck, playing with the puppy. Ikko rushed from the van and slid into the passenger seat, scanning the flat dirty ground and the paved roadway in silence.

Streg nodded to each driver and loaded down into the driver's seat, pressing the gasoline pedal, hearing the noise, before seeing the cloud of black smoke from the muffler on the old truck. He cursed in silence and slowly entered back into the interstate, driving as fast as the machine could perform back to Mobile. His friend Coup was safe and asleep back at his farm house. His devoted workers assigned Streg and his friends with their escape from the hotel room arriving at the town of Poarch.

Inside the cabin of the truck, Julius was laughing and playing with the puppy. The puppy was growling and then snapping and then nipping at the numerous fingers on Julius making both of them happy and busy.

Inside the passenger seat, Ikko sipped on the cold beverage and stared out the windshield. The scene was the same flat brown tinted dirt with field crops underneath a clear pale blue sky. She asked. "What is this place, Poarch? I have never heard of the town. Why did you select this hot spot?"

Streg drove and continued to softy curse at the lousy engine on the old truck. "Poarch is nicely 50 miles from the city of Mobile. My friend has planned and executed all of our steps. Honestly, I'm too dumb and tried to add one plus one yesterday morning and today. The town of Poarch, within the State of Alabama house the Poarch Native American Indian tribe which is part of the Creek Indian Nation. The Poarch tribe include 2,340 members. A total number of 282 Poarch Native American Indians resides on the 230-acre Poarch Indian reservation, since the beginning of time. Historically, the Native American Indian tribes were forced from the US States of Georgia and Alabama in the year 1836, except for this band of Indians. The Poarch Native American Indian tribe established a small community with their own school building, fire department, police department and judges. Their leaders petitioned for their lands from the US Federal Government. Personally, I believe the Native American Indians are the true natives of North America and should own and live anywhere they want to but that is beside the point. The Poarch reservation is located down that paved road along with a bingo building for gamblers and a motel for visitors."

"Thanks for sharing the information. Are you ready to perform your act in front of Senator British?" She frowned and then sipped the beverage.

He exhaled with worry. "I'm ready to end this silly fake assignment mission. After we dump the truck with the boxes, we all run off and hide in the nearest hotel and call my friend on the hotel phone. He will send out a couple of work vans for us. Then we can live on his farm for the rest of our lives. How does that sound?"

She smiled. "Good for me and Julius!"

One hour and twenty-six minutes later, at 07:56 am, an old pickup truck in faded dark green tint blowing out a plume of black tinted smoke, slowed the speed and as the driver slammed on the brakes, producing a terrible squeaky noise, turning onto the South Warren Avenue and then stopped in front of a new longer delivery truck in bright yellow paint. Streg killed the engine and laughed out loud with amusement. "Well, we made it, thus far. Time to get out and greet Queen Bee! You and Julius hang around the truck, in case of bad happenings with Queen Bee," he opened the squeak door along with the Ikko, exiting the front seat, spinning around with a smile.

Before arriving a few seconds before eight o'clock, in front of Senator British, Streg had stopped and paid for a nice hotel room away from British Park on the popular and over crowed Government Street for people protection, storing the baby puppy inside that room. Senator British would greatly question the appearance of a new puppy dog, where Julius might offer a true explanation. Of course, Julius had been upset about leaving the puppy in the hotel room, but Ikko promised room service meals for Julius inside the hotel room, right after visiting the park.

In the park, beside the truck, Streg strutted ahead towards the parked tan colored limousine that was again surrounded with the row of Black Suits, like Streg was going to murder the senator or something. He whispered for his eardrums only. "Ah! Deja and view!" He stopped and stood in front of the armed guards.

One of her guards opened the rear limousine door, Senator Reed Cathy "Red Coat" British slid out from the limousine laughing out loud, and stood upright still laughing at Streg, slowly approaching her new employee and stopped in front of his chest. She sniffed the air waves and then back stepped form his vile body odor stench with a tart expression. Streg didn't bother to wash his dirty clothes or his dirty body, since the senator might suspect he and his friends robbed the bank and stayed at a hotel. And he desired sleep, not a clean body.

She smiled. "I can see that you were successful with your first assignment."

Steg gasped in shock. The senator didn't know about the hidden boxes of cocaine underneath the truck cover, then Streg nodded with a smile to the wicked woman. Yes, the senator knew about the boxes of cocaine but trusted her new employees with some type of personal honor. Boy, she was going to get killed first by the vicious gang of evil people, once they figured out the baby parts were chicken parts.

She thumbed behind her collar bone of her expensive white tinted designer suit jacket, pointing at the new truck. "I have another..."

"Wait!" He rubbed his dirty face and dropped both of his hands, frowning at her. "We just drove through the night and arrived here in time, before getting into trouble with that terrible truck. Now, you want us to go again in a new truck. I might have a car wreck or something bad, if I keep driving, without sleep."

She coughed out loud and then smiled. "You smell terrible but appear awake. Get moving! The truck fob, driving instructions, and a new envelope of cash money, the items are located inside the glove box. You have all day and all night to reach your new travel destination. Once you leave here, pull over onto the roadway and take a snooze. The cargo is not due until eleven o'clock tonight, in case, you forget to read the driving instructions in Memphis..."

"Memphis!" He gasped in shock. "The city of Memphis is located in the southwestern end of the US State of Tennessee, which is six long hours of driving in the heated sunlight."

She smiled. "You have all day and all night. So, get moving right now from here!"

He handed her a paper bag. "Here! This is the bag of cash money and all of the paper receipts used on our round-trip from here in Mobile to Atlanta and then back here to Mobile as ordered."

She stared at the bag and pointed at the closest Black Suit, who reached out and grabbed the paper, not looking inside the item. The senator smiled with a nod. "I did pick the right stuff. Get moving and stop for a breakfast meal with cups of hot steaming coffee! I don't want any more delays with the cargo from here to Memphis."

"Yes ma'am!" Streg nodded with a fake smile and spun around, gasping in alarm. Ikko and Julius were passing Streg on the other side of the limousine, moving over the city street towards the new truck. He spun around and scooted around the senator, loading up into the driver's seat, leaning over and opened the glove box. He pulled out the driving instructions, a new paper bag of cash money, and the truck fob. He replaced the trunk fob back into the glove box. The truck was start and then run as long as the truck fob was near the engine. He handed the instructions and the bag of money to Ikko. Ikko replaced the bag of money back into down into the open glove compartment, reading the instructions, in silence.

Julius was bouncing up and down on the rear bench seat, shouting out loud, "Where's my puppy? Where's my puppy?"

Streg slowly steered forward and waved to Senator British while softly cursing at her slick illegal acts, leaving the park, driving back to the hotel room and parked behind the building. He was certain that no Black Suit was following the new delivery truck. This truck was longer than the first one and painted in yellow hue without a company name or a company logo either. He killed the engine and sat inside the driver's seat, pondering the long trip to Memphis, staring into a grove of lush trees and low-lying bush plants, the pod of pretty wild flowers, wishing for a new life.

Julius opened the door and slid off the long bench, standing on the pavement, bouncing up and down on the pavement and disappeared around the truck while waiting for Ikko.

Ikko continued to sit in the chair and gasped in alarm. "Are we staying here for the day?"

"I wanna stay here for the day, but I'm worried about the contents of the new cargo. What could be inside the truck? We have arrived transported illegal aborted baby organs and bags of cocaine. What is left to transport inside a refrigerated truck to chill raw garden vegetables and fruits?"

She exhaled with worry and nodded with a stern face. "Counterfeit monies. There must stacks of counterfeit money in the rear compartment hold."

He frowned. "Just great! My friend likes to help but getting his hands quickly on stacks of counterfeit monies will make him a criminal too." He slapped the steering column with both hands and nodded to her. "Go ahead and take Julius back into the hotel room. I need to get out and see what's in the rear of the truck."

"Wait for me! Do not open that rear door without me! Let me get Julius settled into the room and order him several plates of food from room service," she opened the door, slid down, standing on top of the pavement, racing ahead and joined Julius. They quickly padded into the rear of the building with the room pass, heading up to the top floor, visiting the puppy.

Inside the truck cab, Streg continued to sit at the driver's seat and banged both of his palms onto the steering column with nervousness. He didn't want to wait for Ikko and greatly desired to view the contents in the rear of the truck right now. Anyways, if the cargo could be substituted for a set of fake items, again. Then Streg needed to call his friend Coup right now and get the process started, before he arrived in the city of Alabaster, this morning. Or maybe, Streg would dump the truck here in the parking lot of the hotel, call his friend Coup, escaping from Senator British with his two friends and the puppy back to Coup's farm, staring a new life.

"Yeah, I need to know!" He opened the door, slid off the seat, standing on top of the pavement leaving the door open. He exhaled with worry first and then slowly padded down the side of the new truck, reaching out, touching the smooth metal like he was a real truck driver and turned the corner, standing in front of the rear door. The door held a metal box again; but the heavy door was slightly jarred. Streg gasped in shock and turned to stare at the rear door on the hotel building, whispering for his eardrums only. "Julius, he had opened the door with his magical fingers. Thanks, buddy!" He returned back and smiled at the open door, slowly approaching the cracked door, seeing only darkness but hearing a set of faint voices. His naked dirty face could feel the cold air coming from the rear compartment room. He stopped and continued to stare at the cracked door without swinging open the heavy metal, still hearing a set of faint voices coming from the darkness. He whispered in panic, "O no! It can't be. It can't be. This can't be happening." He reached out and slammed the door shut, exhaling with worry, spinning around and leaned against the door, closing both of his eyelids with horrible thoughts. He stood upright and reached down, pulling out the borrowed mobile telephone, loading back into the driver's seat. He slammed the door and pressed the facial icon, calling his friend Coup.

Coup did not answer on the first ring. It was the DEA lady, who didn't provide her name.

Streg breathed into the phone without answering her greeting and stared at the grove of trees, in silence, pondering his life.

The DEA lady continued to yell with worry into her phone speaker at Streg. Streg exhaled with worry and swallowed the bitter bile back down his throat, clearing his esophagus and whispered back into the speaker. "I have alive and breathing and talking humans in the rear of the truck." She gasped on the phone and asked questions. Streg answered. "I received a new driving assignment from Senator British. I am in a new refrigerated yellow tinted delivery truck and must drive the new cargo to the northern city of Memphis, within the US State of Tennessee and arrive at eleven o'clock tonight, not before. No. I did not communication with them. I slammed the door shut. What am I going to do?" She asked more questions. Streg said. "She told me to leave Mobile and stop and get some breakfast. What am I going to do next?" She gave him instructions and then disconnected the phone call, working on the next rescue plan.

Inside the truck cab, Streg continued to sit in the seat and stared out the windshield, viewing the grove of trees, feeling guilty, anger, sadness, and revenge at his new situation.

Ikko returned back and slid up into the passenger chair, turning with a stern face, staring at Streg. She could tell that he worried. "What! What is wrong?"

He didn't view her and stared at the woodlands behind the hotel building, seeing Julius. Julius was playing with the puppy in the grass. Streg exhaled with worry and whispered. "The rear compartment contains humans."

She gasped in alarm and wiggled sideways with worry. "O no!"

"O yes! We are trafficking humans."

She frowned. "If we get caught, then we could go to jail for decades and decades."

He nodded. "I know that."

She waved both of her hands and nodded her bone skull. "We...we must release the humans and let them run free. Then, we only face the bad guys..."

"...with guns. I thought of that also. I have called Coup."

She gasped in alarm. "No! Don't involve your friend. This is too severe and serious. He could get arrested or harmed or killed. We ride out of the city and release the humans into the countryside. They can...can..."

"...runaway to where, to who, to what other town. We need to go directly to the police station and help these people. That's the only solution." She gasped in shock and didn't answer his response.

At 08:36 am, the borrowed mobile telephone sounded with a familiar country song. Streg answered the phone with worry, "Yeah!" He listened to the new plan. "What! Are you insane?" He continued to listen to the new plan. "Yeah, you are insane. Both Ikko and I agree that the unknown humans should be released and freed from their refrigerated prison cell." He nodded listening to the new plan. "I got it! I'm leaving, right now!" He disconnected the phone and stored the item in the cup holder. "You and Julius need to stay here at the hotel building. Coup is sending one of the work vans to here for the both of you. You will go and live on Coup's farm. He'll provide employment, a house and protection from Senator British."

She gasped in shock. "What! No! What are you doing?"

He started the truck. "Coup has a new plan, but I must go alone."

She reached out and touched his arm, shaking her curls. "No! You can't go alone. What about me and Julius?"

"Coup will provide a place and protection for you. This is the only game plan that will save us and them."

"What is the game plan?"

He exhaled with worry. "Look! You don't wanna know."

"Yes, I wanna know. What are you doing?"

He smiled. "Coup is executing a tiny car accident with this truck. Once the accident occurs, the police car will come and find the humans. Then the humans will be released to the police. The police will contact their ugliest relative and release all the humans to them."

She nodded with a stern face. "That's a brilliant plan for releasing the humans. What about you?"

He exhaled with worry. "Well, there is no other way here. I'll become arrested for human trafficking..."

"No! What! Why is the plan planned out like this? How will you explain the absence of me and Julius from the car wreck and the truck cab? We're all supposed to be inside the truck cab with you transporting the new cargo."

He smiled. "The local police officers will not know that, since you and Julius will be here in Mobile. Once I am arrested, I must contact Senator British and explain the car accident. She will send several of her Black Suits, who will get me outta of jail and then outta of the way."

She sneered and held back her girly tears of worry for Streg, "She will kill you right there in the woodlands for the car accident, losing me and Julius, and the human cargo."

"I anticipate that, too. But, Coup, hopefully, will come and rescue me, before that happens."

She growled. "Are you certain?"

He nodded with a smile. "I trust Coup."

She frowned. "I don't like this plan."

He frowned. "What else are we going to do? I agree that we need to release the humans. If we release the humans, then we need a substitute for the cargo load in the rear of the truck. You can't substitute a human life for another human life. That's all wrong. If we release the humans and show up without the human cargo, we are all dead. This way, I have a fighting chance that Coup will save me."

She frowned. "That's a fifty-fifty plan."

"That's better than a zero-zero plan. I don't enjoy the thoughts of wrecking the truck, finding the captives humans, and getting arrested by the local police force. But the local police officers will only spit on my face and beat my butt. Senator British is not so kind," he laughed with relief at the upcoming distorted face on the senator. She exhaled with worry and started her speech. He reached out and touched her arm, nodding with a smile. "Get out! I need to go and grab some breakfast meal covering my delayed departure with paper receipts from Mobile and then meet Coup at the designated city, preparing for the car accident. Wish me luck!"

She didn't hug his neck but touched his arm, nodding with a fake smile. "Did you know that Julius named his new puppy Cee Cee?"

Streg said. "No!" She smiled and nodded in silence. He repeated. "No!"

She frowned. "He had named the older dog, Dee Dee. He named the new puppy Cee Cee. His name is Julius. Julius Caesar was a great historical warrior."

Streg gasped in shock. "I know that one."

She nodded. "Julius does not express a long sentence of American or English or Spanish words, but he expresses enough of his emotions and feelings, if you care to notice. The name for the dying dog was called, Dee Dee, like death. He knew the dog was dying and named the dog appropriately letting everyone know also."

He nodded with a smile. "The large man is a genius."

She nodded. "Unlike the shorter man sitting next to me, he is something else. I wish you great luck. I do believe in Almighty God, his son Jesus Christ, the Holy Spirit, and heavenly angels. I'm praying right now and sending all of my angels to protect you."

He winked at her. "Then I'm not afraid and very well protected. Thanks, Ikko! I don't know if I will see you again, Ikko. I wish you and Julius good luck and a great future."

"You, too!" Ikko scooted backwards and opened the door, sliding off the seat, standing on the pavement and stared at Streg, giving a last nod. She closed the door and raced ahead towards Julius, wiping off the moisture from her two eyeballs, hiding her worries from Julius. She smiled watching him play with the new puppy. Now, she was responsible for Julius and his life.

At 09:09 am, in the heated morning of a pretty summertime day, Streg had wasted enough time and needed to execute the new final plan, starting the engine and exhaled with worry, slowly steering the truck from the parking lot of the hotel building, merging into the morning traffic. He slowed the speed and pulled into the first fast food restaurant, ordering five different types of breakfast meals for his alibi cover to Senator British and paid watching on the food. He started driving again and merged into morning traffic slowly heading towards Interstate 65 towards the city of Montgomery. He nibbled on the food plates and then dropped each one down onto the floor away from his feet, saying in angry. "She can clean up the mess in the truck. I hope the humans in the rear compartment have food and water." Streg hit the interstate roadway and increased the speed driving towards the designation point in the blistering heat and blinding sunlight, placing on the newly purchased sunglasses with a smirk, like the gang of Black Suits.

Fifty three minutes later, at 09:53 am, Streg continued to steer down the interstate roadway. The borrowed mobile telephone sounded with the familiar country song. Streg pressed the button on the console that access the ringing telephone signal and hollowed at the speaker box, "Yeah, I'm here."

The voice of Coup spoke back on the speaker box. "Where are you?"

"I'm one mile from the Evergreen rest park."

"Excellent, Streg! Exit off the interstate roadway and speed through the parking lot in the park, and then ram the rear bumper on the gigantic white tinted pickup truck on the other side of the building..."

"What!" Streg gasped in alarm and continued to drive, spotting the exit ramp to the Evergreen rest park.

"Don't slam the rear bumper on the pickup truck with mighty force. Apply your brakes and gently smack the rear bumper with your front bumper. The delicate silver tinted chrome metal will bend and break from the non-deadly impact, without harming the driver. Stop the truck and do not back away from the rear bumper. Then, the driver will get outta of the truck, get mad at you and call the police, so you act appropriately. That action will get your cargo exposed and you arrested. Don't worry!"

He frowned. "Why should I be worried? I'll only get arrested and go to the local jail cell."

"You're comfortable in a prison cell. This is just a new one." He laughed.

"Coup!" Streg smiled. "I'll off the interstate and flying up the ramp, driving the winding room. I see the white tinted pickup truck on the end of the parking lot. I'm going to pitch the phone out the window. Be certain to grab it!" He rolled the glass window down, when the borrowed mobile telephone sung with the familiar song. Streg reached over and pressed the button. "What!"

"Hi, Streg!" A female voice laughed over the speaker box in the truck.

"Ikko, I'm little busy right now."

"The code for the metal box is 1960. You need it to unlock the rear door and release the humans."

He gasped in alarm. "Geez! Thanks, Ikko! I'm about to perform my new role and receive an Oscar award."

"Good luck!" She disconnected the phone call.

At 10:01 am, Streg pitched the phone down into the grass, lifting the window and applied the brakes, gently slamming into the rear bumper on the white tinted pickup truck. The truck jolted a few feet ahead and then stopped with the delivery truck, drifting steam from the engine. Numerous flying heated and broken metal parts and pieces flew through the and landed back down the pavement.

Streg smiled at the beautiful collision and sat in the truck, waiting for the next performance. The dashboard rung

The driver in the pickup truck opened the door and slid out from the driver's seat, slowly standing on top of the pavement. Streg laughed out loud with amusement. The driver was one of Coup's devoted farm workers, a petite young adult male Mexican, wearing a blue, yellow, and red plaid short-sleeved shirt, a pair of dark blue jeans, and a pair of orange colored cowboy boots. However, Coup worked with the US Federal Government agency and always got his workers farm visas and eventually American citizenship. American citizenship was not hard but cost money.

On top of the parking lot pavement, the petite male waved both of his arms in angry and shouted out loud, pointing at the truck cab, moving towards the rear of his pickup truck. Streg didn't know what to do, so he stayed in the truck for protection. One of the visitors to the park was quick and called the emergency line, reporting the car accident at the park building.

A few minutes later, at 10:11 am, the local police cars and emergency vehicles blasted horns and sirens appearing on the roadway, arriving at the building and parked behind the delivery truck.

A group of six law enforcement officers from the local sheriff's department slid out from three police vehicles and approached the front of the delivery truck. A group of eight individuals consisting of firefighters and paramedics rushed from one firetruck and stopped beside the short Mexico male, asking questions.

Inside the truck cab, Streg continued to smile at the ingenious plan and wiped off his grin, displaying a stern face, opening the door. He slid off the driver's seat and waved to the group of law enforcement officers. "Howdy there!"

The team of six law enforcement officers split into two groups. One group surveyed the damage on the two automobiles. The other group surrounded Streg.

Beside the passenger door, on his damaged truck, the short Mexican male bounced up and down in angry, pointing at the delivery truck, shouting in the Spanish language. One of the law enforcement officers approached the Mexican male and then stopped, asking about the car accident, nodding to the Spanish words. He relayed back the English translation to the leader. "The male is yelling. He hit me! He hit me! Arrest him! The delivery truck barreled around the road and slammed into the parked pickup truck, without stopping. The rear bumper and the trunk bed look really bad and crushed."

The leader law enforcement officer nodded to Streg hearing the true facts. "Sir, you have caused a car accident with your deliver truck. May I see your driver's license."

"Yeah!" Steg pulled out his valid Alabama driver's license and handed to the officer.

The lead officer examined the license and then handed the item to one of his co-workers. "Go and run a trace on his license. Let's see if he got some warrants on his ass!" the female co-worker grabbed the license and spun around, dashing back to her police vehicle with her new assignment.

"Hey! I'm the American here." Streg decided to fight back like a real American, even if he knew the true plan. "Go and arrest that Mexican, who's living in my country illegally and for free. I bet he doesn't own a valid driver's license either."

The other law enforcement officer in front of the Mexico shouted out loud. "The Mexican has a valid driver's license and an insurance card. He wants to know who to sue for damages on his pickup truck."

"Tell him to call my lawyer!" Streg turned to see the Mexican and laughed out loud.

The lead officer frowned. "Are you intoxicated, sir?"

Streg returned back and sneered at the officer. "No!"

"I need to see your insurance card."

Steg gasped in shock and shook his curls. "I don't have an insurance card. I'm only the driver of the truck and I'm on the tick-tock time clock. I should get lots of overtime pay today." He laughed for fun and reached over, patting the side of the truck. "This is not my personal truck. This is a service truck. I need to contact my employer and tell her about the car accident. Do you got a phone that I can borrow?"

The second officer returned and stood beside the leader handing the license back to her supervisor. "Streg doesn't have any warrants or parking tickets. This is indeed your lucky day, Streg.' Streg gasped in shock. Senator British was good, indeed. She had erased his crimes and his prison sentence from the local police and United States CIA databases. The law enforcement officers thought Streg was an American driver, working his low-paying job.

The third law enforcement officers separated from the row, moved behind the delivery truck, and then stopped, slamming the metal door, shouting back at Streg "What are you carrying inside the cargo hole? What are you hauling? Open it up! We need to see the cargo, sir?" The two other officers scooted sideways and stood an angle viewing the closed rear door on the truck in silence.

This is it!

Streg had received the door code from his friend Ikko for opening the locked rear compartment. Then, all of the prisoner humans would scream at the row of new faces and then rattle about their terrible captive from a group of nasty guys to the Spanish-speaking officer. Then Streg would be arrested on the spot and sent to the local jail cell. Hopefully, Coup would arrive soonest and bail Streg from the prison cell.

That is the plan!

Streg exhaled with worry and slowly padded down the side of the truck, turning the corner, stopping in front of the metal box. He lifted his hand and wiggled his fingers, punching in the code, hearing a loud scream in the air.

Beside the damaged pickup truck, the petite young adult Mexican male shouted out in Spanish words and leaned against the side door, pointing at his back spine, screaming in pain. He dropped down on his face and continued to wiggle and scream in pain.

Each law enforcement officer rushed from the rear door, Streg, and the truck, sliding over the pavement, standing around the yelling Mexican male. The team of paramedics circled the injured male and attended to his automobile accident wounds.

The lead officer gasped in alarm and quickly asked. "What's wrong with him?"

Streg opened the rear door and felt the cold chill from the refrigerated air currents, viewing a group of new scary faces, who wore a set of ratty clothes, motioning with his hand to them, pointing at the woodlands with his free hand. He nodded with a smile and jumped up and down like a wild man while whispering to the group. "Go! Go! Go!"

Beside the damaged pickup truck, the group of law enforcement officers and emergency personnel watched the injured male on the pavement. The lead paramedic squatted down and examined the man. "His back spine is hurting. He has whiplash from the car accident. Give him IV fluids and place him down on the wooden board." Some of the firefighters and the other paramedics assisted the lead paramedic with the yelling injured man.

In the rear of the truck hole, the first human dashed ahead and dropped down into Streg's arms. He placed her on the pavement and shoved her into the woodlands. Coup and his friends were there watching and waiting for the newly captured humans. Coup would provide employment and a home life for each illegal immigrant first and then get them a farm visa working his farm.

The other humans rushed ahead from the front wall and slowly descended down from the trunk platform with Streg's help, standing upright on the pavement, racing with their personal belongings and their children into the woodlands.

Beside the damaged pickup truck, the lead officer ordered to one of his deputies. "Call two tow trucks out here and grab both of these trucks, taking back to the police garage for safekeeping. That truck driver is getting arrested for reckless driving and other charges."

"Yes sir!" One of the deputies stood in the group and pulled out his mobile telephone, swishing the familiar, completing the order.

The four paramedics continued to work on the injured male and then lifted the wooden board in the air, loading it down onto the gurney, rolling the gurney towards one of the ambulances. The short Mexican continued to yell in pain. The group of firefighters assisted with the automobile victim moving back to the firetruck and the two ambulances. Four of the police officers scattered around the damaged pickup truck noting the damage, collecting the driver's personal possessions for the automobile victim. Then one of the officers squatted down taking pictures of the damaged rear bumper, seeing a quick motion in the distance, looking up and gasped in alarm. "Hey! What's that! That is people! These are people! People are running into the woodlands. Where did they come? Hey! They're coming from the delivery truck. Hey! Stop!"

In the rear of the truck, Streg assisted the last two humans down from the truck platform watching them dash into the woodlands and then spun around with a sneer, protecting the humans from the police officers. He moved ahead to the corner of the truck, when one of the law enforcement officers slammed into Streg. Streg hit the rear door with his back spine and wobbled sideways still standing upright. Three of the deputies started to chase after the humans, running into the woodlands.

The sheriff appeared and sneered at Streg. "What is this? What was in that hold? What were you transporting? Go and check out the rear compartment!" He reached over and grabbed Streg, preventing Streg from escaping.

The other two deputies climbed up and landed on the platform, examining the dirty items, without touching the mess. One shouted out loud to the sheriff. "There were group of human people in here. There's used and empty food sacks and empty water bottles." He appeared and sneered down at the dark tinted hair roots on Steg. "He was trafficking humans inside this delivery truck. Now, all of the humans are loose and running into the woodlands. He is a human trafficker."

"You are under arrest for human trafficking, pal! You'll never get outta of my jail cell." He reared back and slammed his fist into Streg's face, broking the nose bridge. Streg grunted out loud and grabbed his face of spurting blood. Blood flowed down over both of his hands, face, and chin, hitting the dirty tan colored uniform, and the hard pavement. He slowly slid down to the ground from the injury, without getting another bruise on his face. The officer reached down and grabbed Streg, shoving the prisoner upright, shuffling Streg to his police vehicle. "You have no rights. You have no life. You'll spend the rest of your days in prison, pal!"

At 10:55 am, an injured Streg stumbled ahead and held his face, whispering for his eardrums only. "Now would be a good time for my rescue plot, Coup!" The sheriff opened the door. Streg stopped and slid down entering the rear seat on the police car, leaning down with a terrible headache and closed both of his eyelids and as the angry sheriff continued to wave his arm without closing the door, shouting out his police orders.

One hour and thirty-two minutes later, at 12:17 am, in the blistering heat of another summertime day, the four solid interior walls in pale tan hue in each of the three small jail cells inside the Evergreen Prison Facility contained a cozy long bed with vanilla-smelling linen bed sheets, a standard white tinted toilet, a standard white tinted wash sink with a bottle of blue colored soap, and a small wooden table with a cold plastic pitcher of water and ice cubes beside a stack of paper cups. The air conditioning unit nicely blew cold air molecules around the small room also.

Streg had been dragged from the rear bench on the police vehicle while dripping blood proteins over the leather seat, down in the dirt, and over the clean floor, moving through the police station. He posed really ugly for his mug-shot in front of the height measurement table without cleaning up his bloody face and then he received a free telephone call, where he contacted Senator British, who was not there but left a message with her secretary, at her local senator's office, in the city of Mobile. Of course, the mention of her name drew attention and then some sneers at Streg.

After the phone call, Streg was taken to a private prison cell and dropped down on the long bed, resting from the painful bloody nose. His nostrils had stopped bleeding and only ached, maintaining his dizzy headache. He was too tired to worry about Coup or Senator British, electing to rest his face and his bones.

Thirty minutes later, at 12:52 am, the group of Evergreen employees that worked for the sheriff's department started shouting out loud inside the building, running outside the building and stopped on top of the manicured grass, looking up int the pale blue skyline. Still. Streg didn't move from the soft pillow but could hear the familiar sound coming from the two rotating blades on a helicopter.

Awe! So nice!

Senator Red Coat British had received the distress message from Streg and was sending a helicopter for his upcoming execution. Well, he and Coup had underestimated the evil woman. Coup would not be able to rescue or chase after Streg in his pickup truck.

The excitement of loud shouts returned back into the building, cheering the wrong heroes. The group of employees followed behind the three Black Suits, who continued to wear a pair of black tinted sunglasses and had come from Senator British's Mobile office and then stopped inside the lobby area. Inside the prison cell, Streg could not make out the soft mumblings from the lead Black Suit, when the trio appeared in front of his jail cell doorway.

The sheriff beamed with delight regarding the capture of human trafficker, who was going serve their time inside a federal prison by legal authority from Senator British, and then he opened the prison door, standing out of the way. One of the Black Suits moved inside the prison cell, stopped, and reached down, grabbing Steg. He lifted the heavy man off the dirty linen sheet and spun them around to face the open archway, shoving Streg towards the hallway and left the police building, loading into the rear bench on the helicopter.

The employees from the Evergreen sheriff's department followed the three Black Suits and Streg out the building again while cheering the wrong heroes again. The helicopter lifted off the pad into the air and spun around, flying south back towards Mobile. The nice employees continued to cheer and spun around returning back to their working job.

In the rear seat of the roomy helicopter, the lead Black Suit sat beside Streg. Streg tilted sideways and wobbled from his dizzy headache. The Black Suit didn't care and asked questions. "What happened, Streg?"

Streg created a goofy face and softly spoke, "I wrecked the car, Mama."

"What happened to the cargo?"

"O! The crate of humans."

He sneered. "Yeah!"

"After I run into the rear on that pickup truck, the nice sheriff wanted me to open the door bu the door was locked with a metal box. I didn't have the code. I told him so. But he didn't want to listen to me. So, he broke the metal box with a great big sledge hammer. Then the cargo screamed from fright. I screamed from fright. The police officers screamed from fright too. Then the cargo screamed again and jumped off the truck platform, running away from me and the police officers, and the truck into the lush woodlands."

"What happened to your two cab buddies?"

"O! That unknown girl and that unknown guy, who never told me their names or their crimes or their addresses. They screamed in fright and ran away from the truck and me, before the police cars arrived, leaving me alone and injured in the driver's seat. Do you not see my face? I smashed..."

"Shut up!" He frowned at Streg and turned, staring at the dashboard. "Did you hear the story, Senator?"

The speaker box on the dashboard sounded with her voice. "Yes, I heard the story. This is most unfortunate. I am sorry, Streg. You have failed. I do not like a failure. Send an armed team back into the woodlands of Evergreen and find that unknown girl and that unknown guy, without the assistance of the local police department. They can't get far enough down the roadway, without money or identification. They're probably hiding out with the bears and the birds." The telephone call disconnected.

Streg complained with fun, "I need a physician. I need a hospital. My face is broken."'

"Shut up!"

"Okay! Do I still have a job?"

"Shut up!" Black Suit sneered.

Streg leaned over with a slight grin. His two new friends were safe with his long-time Army buddy Coup. The humans inside the cold truck compartment were with Coup also. He did a good job, even though he will die. He rested his rear skull on the back rest, hearing the mechanism on the rotating helicopter, resting his tired body for his final fight or flight of live.
Coast Guard Administration Building

Entranceway location

Pale blue sky, white rolling clouds

Heated air temperatures and no rain

01:42 pm

Thirty-four minutes later, in the blistering day of summer, the senator's helicopter in pretty bright pink hue landed on top of the smooth landing pad, powering down the engines. The lead Black Suit reached over and grabbed Streg. The side door opened. He jerked Streg from the rear helicopter bench seat and assisted the injured man upright, slowly padding ahead towards the side wall on a white tinted building.

Streg still possessed a dull headache but his two eyeballs focused on the new environment. He slowly turned and scanned the familiar scenery. "What! This is..."

"Shut up!" The lead Black Suit sneered at Streg.

The row of Black Suits stopped and stood in front of the side wall on the building with an open door, staring at row of four the familiar green and tan colored Army military uniforms, in silence.

The highest ranking military officer nodded to the lead Black Suit. "Thanks for the delivery! We take it from here. Get your chopper off the landing pad."

Streg frowned at the 4-Star Army General, "I am not an it."

The military officer motioned for the military two police officers, who moved ahead and grabbed each arm on Streg, moving them around into the long hallway. Streg frowned with confusion. "Hey! What's going on? Why am I back here? Well, I'm happy to be back here. Am I going back into my prison cell? Is my job with..."

"Shut it, soldier!" The 4-Star Army General snapped and stared at the rear skull on Streg.

They all moved down the hallway in silence and exited the building, padding underneath the veranda and the concrete outside walls, stopping in front of a stationary white tinted guard building. The closed door was guarded by two soldiers wearing a light blue, short-sleeved shirt, a pair of dark blue trousers, and a pair of brown shiny boots, the uniform for a Coast Guard soldier.

Streg stood between the two Army military officers. The other high ranking military officer was a 2-Star Army General and moved ahead, handing the guard a bag tinted cloth, whispering into the stern face on the military office of the Coast Guard military police unit. The new military officer nodded back with a stern face and then accepted the bag. The 2-Star General back stepped with a smile and spun around, pointing into the small squat building, in silence.

Streg smiled and stared down a short white tinted hallway without soldiers. "Hey! Are we going to visit this particular building? I couldn't really see the building from my prison cell, only the bay waters and blue sky and the flying seagulls. But I always wondered what was inside this building."

One of military Coast Guards spun around and led down a short hallway. "Solider, please follow me!"

Streg didn't move feeling fear and stared at the back spine on the Coast Guard solider, studying the light blue, short-sleeved shirt, exhibiting confusion. "I..."

"Get inside, Soldier!" The Army military officer shoved Streg through the open archway.

Streg slowly moved down an empty, quiet hallway and leaned down, spitting dry blood on top of the clean floor with his fun, stopping in front of the officer, at the first open archway on the left side of the hallway. The officer handed Streg the black tinted bag and pointed into the small room. Streg turned and stared into a tiny room with four solid white walls, gasping in alarm. "Is this room for solid confinement? I didn't do anything to deserve solid confinement. What did I do to receive solid confinement?"

"Change your clothes and wash your face, solider!" The Coast Guard solider said with a stern face.

Streg slowly turned to view the military soldier with puzzlement and accepted the bag, moving into the tiny room, stopping in front of the single wash sink beside a standard white tinted toilet. The Coast Guard soldier did not move or close the door. The room contained a wooden chair only. Streg dropped the bag and stared into the mirror, moaning with alarm. His nose bridge displayed dried bloody and both of his eye sockets were surrounded in black hue. He reached up and gently touched his sore nose bridge, wiggling the nostrils. His nose was not broken, only busted. He leaned down and gently cleaned off the sweat, blood, and tears of defeat, grabbing a clean towel, gently wiping off the water drops. He dropped the towel down on the floor. He looked up and groaned at his ugly wound in the mirror. "It will heal." He squatted down and examined the rest of the contents inside the cloth bag, finding a wad of cloth bandages and wrapped over his nose with care first. Then he found a new set of green and tan Army fatigues and pulled out the item, standing upright, placing the clothes on the wash sink. He carefully removed the dirty tan colored uniform and slowly dressed in the Army fatigues, yelling at the Coast Guard military officer for fun. "My body is injured. I need some help." Streg softly chuckled while the soldier did not move from his pose. Streg finished dressing and left the pile of dirty clothes on top of the clean floor also, spinning around, slowly moving ahead and exited the tiny room. "Now what!"

The Coast Guard military officer led Streg without speaking and moved back down the hallway, appearing on the tiny porch, and stopped, staring at the two Army officers.

The 2-Star Army General nodded with a stern face to the Coast Guard military officers. "Thank you kindly! Move it, Soldier!" He placed a pair of shiny silver tinted handcuffs over the two wrist bones on Streg, back stepping from the soldier criminal.

At 02:12 pm, in the heated day, outside the building, Streg rattled the handcuffs for fund and slowly moved ahead, turning to face a new building. The two Army military officers flanked each one of his rib cages, without commenting, and as they all slowly advanced towards a guarded archway. The next building was painted in the same dull tan color and exhibited a pair of double wooden doors, blocking the internal walls. He had not ever visited the internal room of this particular building either.

They stopped and stared at the closed doors in red tinted metal. On each sided of the door, a single Coast Guard soldier sat inside a bullet-proof tiny glass booth for protection, watching each visitor to the building. The 2-Star Army General slid a single sheet of paper underneath the slot towards the Coast Guard soldier. The soldier accepted the paper and read the contents, reaching down, pressing the button. The second Coast Guard soldier pressed a second button, when both of the double doors opened for the new trio of military personnel. They entered through the open archway and studied the new room.

The entrance room was grand measuring twenty feet towards the ceiling and fifty feet across by thirty feet wide. The entrance wall in stark white hue held the electronic-controlled double doors with a matching glass booth that held a single Coast Guard soldier, in case, of trouble. Each side wall in matching stark white color displayed a row of glass windows that viewed the Mobile Bay waters, the blue sky, and white tinted clouds on one side and the manicured grass on the other side. Against each wall, scattered tiny wooden benches or a single small table with two wooden chairs lounged near the glass windows.

On the forward wall of solid white hue, a second set of metal blue tinted double doors were closed. Each side door displayed a glass booth that held a single Coast Guard soldier, in case, of trouble. The rest of the forward wall was bare without plants or pictures or light. The ceiling tiles displayed a series of skylights that allowed bright sunlight in the room, killing the light colored wooden planks on the floor.

They slowly approached one of the glass booths and then stopped standing at the glass, breathing on the material, where the 2-Star Army General slid a new single sheet of paper towards the Coast Guard soldier. The soldier accepted and read the information, typing the data on a black tinted laptop computer and waited for the response.

The two military officers continued to stand and exhaled with annoyance at the soldier procedures. Streg didn't move or comment feeling confused and baffled at the new building and the behavior of the two Army officers.

Inside the glass booth, the soldier received the electronic information back on his business computer and reached down with a stern face, pressing the button. One of the double doors opened and revealed a short male, displaying a head of cropped brown hair, a tone of olive tinted skin, and a pair of brown eyeballs, wearing a light blue, short-sleeved shirt, a pair of dark blue trousers, and a pair of brown tinted shoes, staring at Streg, then the 4-Star Army General, and finally the 2-Star Army General. He held a computer tablet for his working job and spun around with a stern face, leading them into the new room.

The new room was larger than the grand reception setting, displaying four walls of stark white hue, a blonde tinted wooden floor with squeaky planks, and ten rows of pews on each side of an empty aisle space. Each pew was wooden, not comfortable. The short Coast Guard officer stopped at the sixth row within ten pews and pointed down at the wooden bench, in silence, moving ahead back towards the front of the room.

At 02:21 pm, the 4-Star Army General lifted his hand and opened his lips, trying to ask a question but sneered at the rear skull on the rude Coast Guard soldier and then he slid down, scooting sideways over the shared pew giving room to Streg and the other military officer. Streg scooted down the pew and sat beside the general, staring at the commotion in front of the room. The 2-Star Army General slid down and parked a few inches from Streg, staring at the commotion also.

In front of the first pew, a wooden railing separated the audience from the court room. Each side of the aisle, a long wooden table stood in naked stillness, without a client or a lawyer. In the middle of the room, in front of the tall blonde-colored bench, the judge sat high and stared down at the trio of officers. The middle soldier wore a light blue jumpsuit and a pair of matching athletic shoes, instead of a Coast Guard uniform, staring down at the floor, in silence. The two Coast Guard military police officers stood at attention and wore the usual uniform, standing beside the prisoner.

On the judge's bench, the male was dressed in a dark blue uniform with a white shirt and a black tinted necktie, displaying a head of cropped black tined hair, a tone of nicely suntanned skin, and a pair of violet eyeballs, slamming down the gavel onto the shiny, polished wooden. He stared down at the dirty blonde hair roots on the female soldier, "You are found guilty with your non-war military crimes and discharged from the US Coast Guard branch of the United States of America. Let her go and collect her personal belongings from her prison cell and then escort the civilian off this military base. Good luck, ma'am!" The trio spun around and slowly moved down the empty aisle. Both of the electronic doors opened for the trio. The trio left the courtroom.

From the corner wall, a tall and muscular male sat at a naked wooden desk and typed on his business computer. A few seconds later, a new trio of military soldiers appeared and walked down the empty aisle, stopping in the center of the room, looking up at the judge.

The judge nodded with a smile. "I am Judge Ace smith. This is my courtroom. I have reviewed your file and found you guilty of all non-war military crimes." He slammed the gavel down on top of the desk surface and shouted out loud. "You are discharged from the US Coast Guard branch of the United States of America. Let him go and collect her personal belongings from her prison cell and then escort the civilian off this military base. Good luck, sir!" The trio spun around and slowly moved down the empty aisle. Both of the electronic doors opened for the trio. The trio left the court room.

For three hours and thirty minutes, at 04:51 pm, the two Army military officers and prisoner Streg sat on the hard bench and wiggled sideways, relieving a numb butthole, watching each Coast Guard soldier lose their legal case and become discharged from the military branch. Every thirty minutes, the 2-Star Army General tried to get Ace's attention on the bench or trip one of the Coast Guard officers for attention to immediate prosecute prisoner Streg, before the end of the day, without success. The last trio of Coast Guard soldiers left the court room through the open archway. The doors closed shut. On top of the judge's bench, Ace like millions of other uses, continued to look down and grabbed his personal mobile telephone, typing out a new text message, placing the phone on top of his desk. He looked up and frowned at the trio of Army soldiers, who continued to sit inside his court room, in silence.

The 2-Star Army General stood upright from the hard bench and shook both of his legs, sliding off the pew, approaching Ace. He waved one arm and shouted out loud. "I have been highly insulted sitting here for three hours and more watching on you ignore me, Captain." The officer stopped and stood in the center of the room, motioning with his hand to the 4-Star Army General.

On the opposite side of the room, the short Coast Guard officer sat at his naked desk and was named Slick, shouting out loud to Ace. "Judge Smith, this court room session will close in nine more minutes at five pm, sir."

Ace did not react with a grin or a giggle, staring at the 2-Star Army General in silence.

The 4-Star Army General scooted sideways and shoved Streg towards the end of the pew. Streg stood upright and continued to stare at Ace, feeling worry, scooting off the pew. He slowly approached the bench and stood beside the 2-Star Army General exhaling with worry. Streg now understood the new plan from the crooked two army officers that worked with evil Senator British.

This was a military court room and this particular military judge did not conduct court room type justice, only sentenced each soldier with the military crime, discharged the soldier from the military branch and then released each one into the city street as a civilian, without military rights and protection. Then the local police officers or the street thugs could use and abuse the new civilian in a dark alley or behind an abandoned building. This type of psychological and mental dark behavior occurred all the time with druggies and drug peddlers.

Even though Streg had been charged with executing the first female President of the United States, he was still a military prisoner and was treated as a military prisoner, which didn't include torment or torture on his healthy body. However, if his military prisoner protection was removed, then Streg would become a civilian and his new civilian body would become unprotected and exposed to the true criminals of the world, until he could reach a pay telephone and call his friend Coup for a swift rescue. He turned and stared at the nose profile on the 4-Start Army General, who turned with a grin and winked to Streg, in silence.

Yeah, he had guessed the new plan. After the military judge kicked him from the military protection, the group of Black Suit from Senator British would find Streg and then murder him, leaving his dead bloody body down in one of the dark alleys for crow and maggot food.

In top of the judge's bench, Ace continued to sit in his chair and exhaled with annoyance at the loud-mouth military officer. "This is a military court room. I am the judge. Who are you?"

The 2-Star Army General sneered and touched his lapel with the golden items. "I am a 2-Star general in..."

"...the wrong branch of the military service, general. I am judge for the Coast Guard and the Navy military."

On the opposite side of the room, the short Coast Guard officer sat at his naked desk and shouted out loud. "Judge Smith, this court room session will close in seven more minutes at five pm, sir."

The 2-Star Army General jabbed his finger at Ace and yelled at the judge. "You are a military judge. I have a military prisoner here, who has committed the highest act of treason, human trafficking of other innocent humans. You provided the court martial papers. Your staff accepted the paperwork. So, do your job!"

Ace looked down and re-read the information on the screen of his business laptop. He had read the information with puzzlement, looking back up, frowning at the two generals. "I have read the information. What exactly do you want me to do, 2-Star Army General? You are an Army..."

"...military officer, like you, Judge Smith." The 4-Star Army General stomped both feet and waved both of his arms in the air. "I want you to read the criminal charge and find the prisoner guilty, discharging him from the USA military services, where I have sat for three hours and viewed your quick decision all afternoon."

On the opposite side of the room, Slick continued to watch his wrist watch clock and shouted out loud. "Judge Smith, this court room session will close in five more minutes at five pm, sir."

On top of the judge's bench, Ace smiled. "Well, I don't have a problem finding a criminal guilty of a crime, when the criminal enters my court room. But this is an Army criminal, not a Coast Guard criminal. Why didn't you take your Army criminal to one of the Army bases?"

On the opposite side of the room, the short Coast Guard officer sat at his naked desk and shouted out loud. "Judge Smith, this court room session will close in four more minutes at five pm, sir."

The 2-Star Army General shook his bone skull. "We didn't have time to fly down over to Fort Rucker. We captured the criminal here in the city of Mobile and we got really lucky. I talked with the commandant of the Coast Guard military base which has allowed us to bring the criminal here at the nearest court room for sentencing."

Ace nodded. "I do believe you have meant to say a court room trial as your prisoner has not been found guilty of a crime, without due process."

On the opposite side of the room, Slick continued to watch his wrist watch clock and shouted out loud. "Judge Smith, this court room session will close in three more minutes at five pm, sir."

The 4-Star Army General frowned at Ace. "The prisoner has admitted to trafficking humans, which is punishable crime for any American. He was caught driving the truck. He is guilty of the grave military crime. Discharge him from the USA military service now!"

On the opposite side of the room, Slick continued to watch his wrist watch clock and shouted out loud. "Judge Smith, this court room session will close in two more minutes at five pm, sir."

On top of the court room floor, in front of the judge's bench, the 2-Star Army General turned and frowned at Slick. "What happens when the court room session closes at five pm?" He returned back and stared at Ace.

Ace smiled. "The court room closes the door. I and my court room staff go home for the evening. Each remaining criminal is sent back into their assigned jail cell inside the guard house for a new trial tomorrow morning, at eight o'clock, when I and my court room staff return back into my court room."

"Discharge him now!" The 4-Star Army General sneered at Ace.

Ace exhaled with annoyance. "Fine! You are guilty of all the non-war military crimes and discharged from the United States military branches. Buck, please, escort the new civilian from my court room and back to his jail cell for his personal belongings and then onto the city streets of Mobile. Amen!" He chuckled with his workers and friends Buck and Slick.

On top of the court room polished floor, Streg stood in place and gasped in worry. Now, he was labeled a civilian and would need to defend and fend off all of the Black Suits coming for him, from Senator British, after leaving the safety of the military base, accessing the open city streets here in Mobile. He didn't possess a weapon but his brain. He exhaled with worry and mentally calmed his furious emotions.

The 2-Star Army General leaned over and grinned into the collar bone a taller Streg. "It is done! Good luck, boy, if you possess anymore luck!" He laughed with the other Army officer with the private dirty secret.

Streg did not response but quickly pondered his next move. Buck left the wall corner desk and whipped out the key for the handcuffs, slamming his upright body into the short 2-Star Army General on purpose. He didn't hear but could see the treatment of the Army soldier and didn't like it. Buck shoved the older fit male to the side without words, grabbing the arm on the civilian, spinning them around, swiftly walking towards the open doors, whispering to the new civilian.

Slick left the opposite wall desk at the same time with Buck and then stopped, standing beside the open doors, watching Buck and Streg leave the court room. He leaned over and waved to one of the glass booths with the Coast Guard soldier. Both of the Army officers spun around and patted each other on the back spine, whispering to each other, slowly approaching the open archway, when both of the doors closed shut with a soft ting. They both stopped and stared at the closed doors, spinning around, starting at Ace.

Slick smiled and sung out the child's nursery rhyme. "Hickory, Dickory Dock! The mouse ran up the clock. The clock struck twelve. The mouse ran down. Hickory, Dickory, Dock. Tick Tock! Five o'clock," he laughed alone.

The 4-Star Army jabbed his finger at Ace. "Open the doors! We concluded our business."

At 05:04 pm, Ace continued to sit in his judge's chair and exhaled with fury. "This is my court room. I do not know how many times I need to say that American sentence to the both of you, in which, your set of tiny brains do not comprehend. However, I am stating a new sentence structure with a set of bigger, badder words. If you ever come back into my court room again with another prisoner, then you will be arrested and placed inside my personal judge's prison cells located behind my ass for 60 days or 1,440 hours or 86,400 minutes or 5,184,000 seconds. I would perform that slick judicial action today, but it is five o'clock. The court room is closed. The court prisoners are back in their assigned jail cells. And my staff and I have concluded the day's court proceeding and go back home for a night of rest. Get outta of my court room! And do not come back here! Open the doors!" He flipped his hand in the air and sneered at the two high ranking officers.

The 2-Star Army General fumed with fury at the treatment of his military person. "That's a deadly threat to my person. I will leave and find the commandant on this military base. Then I will tell him of my mis-treatment by you. Then we will see who goes into the brig.

This is America, the land of the free and the home of the brave. We are privileged to have the 1st Amendment, freedom of speech, given by our wise and smart Founding Fathers. You have the right to speak or scream or shout at another human, without committing murder. However, I will use my 1st Amendment rights and freedom of speech here inside my court room too. The commandant on this Coast Guard military base is not my supervisor but my co-worker. He had contacted me after the abrupt and silly arrival in your pink tinted helicopter on top of a military landing pad and asked me, if it was okay that you bring a military prisoner into my court room, for sentencing. I, of course, out of curiosity, said yes. Now, get outta of my sight, before I change my mind, since the court room doors are opened, not shut."

The two Army officers spun around and dashed ahead bumping into each other, stumbling out from the court room. The court room doors did not close shut. Slick and Ace watched the two silly officers. The exterior doors swung open and revealed a pair of Coast Guard military police officers, who would escort the two Army officers off the Coast Guard military base into the US Federal Government limousine. The exterior doors did not close shut and as each Coast Guard soldier viewed the embarrassing moment for the two Army officers.

Ace laughed out and picked up his personal mobile telephone, answering the new text message and ordered. "Close all of the doors! The work day has ended." He stood upright from the chair and moved down the steps. "Good night, Slick! I'll see you tomorrow morning."

"Night, Boss!" slick spun around and stared at the back spine on Ace with puzzlement. Usually, Ace was not in a hurry to leave work, but today was a different type of court setting.

At 05:08 pm, Coast Guard soldier and court room employee Buck escorted Streg moving passed the guard house and into the administration building, turning to face a rear door and stopped, standing at the entrance door. He gently slapped Streg on the collar bone and handed the new civilian a twenty dollar bill. "Here! Buy a beer! Can I contact someone for you?"

Streg gasped in shock at the compassion of the Coast Guard solider and accepted the money, almost asking for the telephone call. But he didn't want his friend Coup in trouble with Senator British. All of the military business telephones were tracked which could be traced back to Coup, his farm, and his family members in small town of Alabaster. Streg did not shake his bone skull with the numerous facial injuries and slightly smiled with pain. "Thanks! I'm fine." He turned to face the bright warm sunlight, the glistening fresh water from Mobile Bay, a single vanilla sideway with strolling soldiers, and the public city street named 15th Avenue, without a rolling car. This part of the military base required a military permit for traveling towards the military building without getting a bullet through the windshield. He exited the building and slowly moved down the parallel sidewalk, nodding to the group of soldiers, edging closer to the public city street of Mobile. He continued to stroll and slowly scanned the street for a car, the sky for a helicopter, and the waterway for a boat. Senator British was after his ass and she would use any transportation means available to kill his body with all of his secrets about her illegal businesses including aborted baby organs, cocaine transport, and human trafficking. Streg should have tattled to the military judge about Senator British, but the judge would not have believed his fairy tale story. After all, she was a prominent senator from the US State of Alabama and held that position for forty years or so.

Streg continued to stroll in the heated sunlight and sweated over his facial wounds, viewing a courtyard of export buildings with hidden personal, who would not provide a stranger one business telephone. And each building held a guard unit because of the highest crime rate in the land, running criminals, and roaming homeless people. Streg continued down 15th Avenue and then hit the intersection of 16th Street Circle, seeing three black tinted SUVs, driving down the avenue.

They are here!

Streg didn't need to study the three automobiles and started jogging down 15th Street, moving away from the three SUVs. The three automobiles continued to drive down the road coming closer to Streg. He turned to face the open park without a name. the city of Mobile possessed numerous grassy parks for the dogs and the kids. He jogged over the flat grass, when the three automobiles increased engine power and sped down 15th Avenue, turning onto Old Bay Front Driver. The park was triangular shaped with a perfect 90 degree angle along the two city streets. The three SUVs encountered the local traffic jam and slammed on the brakes, stopping with the other cars.

Streg had one chance and started running through the flat grass towards the bay waters. The park setting was filled with low plants and dotted with lines of tall shade trees. The park was not named, because it sat on the Mobile Bay waters and used mostly by military personal. If Streg could reach the opposite side of the park, then he would cross Old Bay Front Drive and then Commanders Drive, slamming into the L-shaped building. The privately owned building was part of the airport complex and possessed a nice cold air conditioned lobby. Streg could use his acting skills and ask to borrow the business telephone, pleading car trouble to the lobby guard, calling his friend Coup. Then Streg could rush from the building and find a restaurant, ordering a beer, waiting for coup to arrive for the rescue.

At 05:17 pm, new civilian Streg continued to dash through the grass while viewing the three black tinted SUVs. Each driver swiftly drove down the clear avenue without traffic racing to the same intersection with Streg, slamming the brakes and blocked the roadway. Streg veered towards the waterway. Maybe, he could swim around the blockage of automobiles and then race ahead towards the L-shaped building. Either way, this was not looking good for Streg.

The three SUVs continued to park and opened a side door, revealing the cold barrel on a long-range rifle.

This is it!

Each rifle barrel was pointed and followed the nose profile on Streg. Streg couldn't believe his two eyeballs or his fate. One of the Black Suits was going to fire a weapon at Streg, in the middle of the day, inside the public grassy park. Streg didn't give up. He continued to race towards the water with his life.

From behind Streg, a set of colorful motorcycles rolled through the grassy park following Streg and then turned back, heading towards Old Bay Front Drive, where the three SUVs blocked the roadway. Each motorcycle increased speed and roared the loud engine, heading towards the roadway, flying into the air and then landed inside each open door on every SUV. The biker pulled out a hand gun, shooting each Black Suit dead. Then each biker jumped out from the internal compartment on the SUV side door and raced ahead over the grassy park, tackling Streg. The three healthy males were too much for a weak and wounded Streg. He surrendered and rested on top of the grass, exhaling in pain.

At 05:26 am, one of the males assisted Streg to stand upright and slowly shuffled them back to a new work van in bright red hue that parked in front of the three government vans on Old Bay Front Drive. The side door opened and revealed a smiling face on Ace. Ace motioned to Streg and the unknown male, scooting deeper inside the compartment on top of a long bench in brown leather. Streg entered the side door and sat on top of the second long bench in brown leather beside the unknown male, leaning against the door wall, exhaling in pain and felt confused. He stared at Ace in puzzlement.

Ace still wore his Coast Guard uniform from court and ordered with a stern face to the unknown male. "Get the three SUVs outta of here and burned or buried! I don't care your method, while I talk with the kid."

Streg mouth spat blood on the clean matching brown carpet and wiped off his blooding face with one hand, sneering to Ace. "Kid! We're the same age."

He nodded. "All right, soldier!"

"I'm a civilian. You discharged my ass from the Army, fifteen minutes ago."

The unknown male laughed and nodded to Ace. "I like the kid. He doesn't take shit from you."

Ace frowned at the unknown male. "Get going!"

The unknown male laughed. "Yes, sir! I am getting. I am going." He left the compartment and closed the door.

Streg continued to sit and wiped off his dirty face, staring at Ace. "What's going on here? What are you doing here? What happened to the Black Suits? Who are these males on the motorcycles? You are a judge for the Coast Guard military branch."

Ace slowly stood upright and shuffled ahead, moving into the driver's seat. "You don't mind if we leave the murder scene. I don't like lounging with the local police force," he laughed and stared the engine. Streg shuffled from the rear seat and plopped down into the passenger chair, wiping off his face. Ace slowly steered the van and explained. "I am Ace. I am a military judge. I am located at the same Coast Guard Administration building. However, I like justice outside the court room as well as inside the court room. The two Army generals pissed my dick off when they wanted to enter my court room without permission, which in turn, led into a quick investigation into you, Streg. You were the soldier who accidentally killed the first female President of the United States. I didn't vote for the bitch. But I do not desire another human dead for any reason, unless it is by the grace of Almighty God. Amen! Anyways, I was curious about your mysterious release which led into your mysterious arrest which led your mysterious appearing inside the court room. The commandant was talkative about your mysterious release but my buddies at the Army base didn't know or wanted to know or cared to know. I do care. I do wanna know. Why are hanging around with Red Coat British? I do not like her. I do not trust her. Now, it is your turn to tell your demon tale," he chuckled and continued to steer down the avenue heading to a specific location.

Streg cleared his throat and frowned. "And if I do not tattle my personal demon tale, will you kill me instead?"

Ace laughed. "Naw! I'll release you back onto the city streets of Mobile. I do believe that Red Coat British is searching for your ass and will find and rid the world of your ass."

"I was happily living out my life sentence as an unwilling assassin for murdering the first female President of the United States. Everyone in my life had turned away from me anyways. Then, two days ago, the warden of the tiny rooms of prison cells released me from my tiny room and told me that I was working for Senator British. Yes, that was very strange decision for me, also. I rode inside her limousine to British Park," Ace laughed and nodded with a smile. Streg smiled. "A non-descript white tined refrigerated truck stood beside the park grounds. I was to drive and then deliver the secret load from Mobile to Atlanta, Georgia by eight o'clock at night. Yes, I was curious about my secret load and pulled off the interstate to investigate, breaking into four of the seal boxes," he exhaled with sadness from the find. "I found stacks of black tined metal boxes contained aborted baby organs."

Ace sneered. "Holy Jesus Christ! I knew that Red Coat was dirty but not that dirty."

"I knew that too. I did not deliver the boxes of baby items."

Ace gasped in shock, "And how is possible that you are alive and breathing, here with me, inside this work van?"

He smiled. "I called a good friend from my Army days. He had access to chicken parts."

Ace laughed out loud and banged on the steering wheel, "You did not."

"I did so."

"You did not do it."

He nodded, "I did, do it. I substituted every illegal baby organ with a dead, fresh chicken part. My friend provided a proper burial for each abused fetus on his land, in secret. Then I delivered the load to a group of men and women with guns, who didn't kill me or question me. They provided me an older model truck with a new surprise, boxes of cocaine bags."

Ace gasped in shock, "Holy shit! You were the newest mule for Red Coat British."

He nodded. "I was the newest fool for Red Coat British. But I called my Army buddy, who will remain alive and anonymous, and he created bags of fake cocaine powder from honeysuckle plants," he laughed with Ace.

Ace stopped laughed and then frowned. "I don't have to guess your next assignment. The annoying Army general mentioned human trafficking."

"I released the humans into the woodlands in the rural town of Evergreen. My friend picked up the humans and will employ them and aid them in getting American citizenship. Of course, the sheriff and his deputies had to arrest and harass me before the team of Black Suits from Senator British showed up to harass me more." He reached up and touched his facial wounds.

Ace smiled. "Great job, Streg! I have a new proposal for you."

He exhaled with worry and needed to leave the van, hiding out until he could call Coup. "Ace, you seem like one of the good guys, but Senator British will stop at nothing to find and then kill me. You will get in the way. I don't wanna be responsible for another innocent death."

"And I feel the same way. However, I am the giving of life and the executioner of death. The three motorcycles were my Resources with a capital letter R. I employ them to protect me, which is obvious and to protect innocent people, like you, which is obviously secretive. Right now, my Resources have earned their right to retire and enjoy life, without an early death," he laughed alone and cleared his throat, "The job pays well. I am not a billionaire of billions, but I am really, really close. I provide the job, a house, cars, guns, food, and all of the toys that you want or need for fun and for the job. The job is pretty easy and involves killing off lots of bad guys and gals, mostly right here in Mobile. There is enough crime here to last a lifetime or two. I only need an affirmative or a negative from you. This is my proposal."

Steg smiled and felt honored with the proposal coming from Ace. "I really would..."

"And I must add that Senator British has already traced each one of those telephone calls coming into that damaged refrigerated truck. Others can play spies for the good guys. My Resources are good and slick. They ..."

"...are in danger." Streg gasped in alarm. "I need to go and get to them protecting them."

Ace gasped in alarm. "Them! Who!"

He pointed ahead at the city. "My two other friends, who were recruited but not tormented by Senator British, I hid them in the Mobile Hotel on Government Street for safekeeping, until I returned from the delivery."

At 05:37 pm, in the heated afternoon with blinding sunlight, Ace pressed the gasoline pedal and started speeding down the same avenue, passing each slow-moving automobile with worry, shouting out loud. "We're moving! Hang on! I know lots of short cuts to the Mobile Hotel on Government Street."

Ten minutes later, at 05:47 pm, Ace pulled the work van into the rear gray tinted parking lot at the Mobile Hotel and parked inside an empty spot, killing the engine, leaning down towards the floor mat. He reached inside the metal drawer and pulled out a hand gun, sitting upright, handing to Streg. Streg accepted the gun and nodded in silence.

Ace opened the door with Streg, moving ahead towards the rear door on the hotel building. Streg stopped and slapped the pockets on the Army fatigues looking for the spare hotel room pass, finding it. He moved ahead and opened the locked door, entering into a busy hallway, locating the exit stairwell and started climbing with the gun in his hand.

Ace followed behind Streg in silence.

Streg reached the fifth floor and exited from the staircase, dashing down an empty hallway, finding the first room with Ikko. He flashed the hotel room pass into the slot and cracked open the door hearing her loud screams. Ace shoved Streg from the archway and ordered like a judge. "Go and find your other friend! I got this one covered."

Streg scooted sideways from the first paid hotel room and opened the second locked hotel room door with the second spare hotel pass, cracking the door open, seeing the black fabric on four Black Suits. Each Black Suit was yelling and fist-fighting with big man Julius.

The black and white colored Border Collie puppy was hiding underneath the bed covers, yelping at the vicious fight.

Streg entered the room and rushed ahead, slamming the cold barrel on the gun into the back spine on the first Black Suit, shooting at an angle. The bullet sailed down into the back spine and then the organs of the first Black Suit, killing the large female. Streg didn't drop the female and shuffled to the second Black Suit, shooting the bullet down into the human's back spine again, killing the male. He dropped the dead female and watched the second human die on the floor.

Julius was dressed in the tan colored one-piece jumpsuit showing rips and tears along with blood proteins, spotting Streg and punched the third Black Suit in the face, who tumbled backwards into Streg. Streg hugged the second female and shot the bullet down her breast, traveling down through thick body, killing the third Black Suit.

Julius slapped the fourth Black Suit and spun the male around, cracking the neck on the Black Suit, killing the male. He dropped the dead body on the carpet and exhaled from exhaustion, slowly padding ahead to the tiny puppy, squatting down, grabbing the dog and cuddled the puppy into his chest.

Streg moved ahead and slapped the collar bone on Julius leaving the hotel room. Julius stood upright from the floor and spun around, following behind Streg. Streg exited the room and nodded to Ace, in silence.

Ace motioned to the staircase for the three individuals first. Streg viewed Ikko, who continued to wear the one-piece jumpsuit in dull tan with numerous rips and some of her personal blood stains and some of blood stains from each one of her attackers. He reached out and grabbed the arm on Ikko, leading her down the fire exit staircase, seeing some of the facial cuts. They quickly climbed down the staircase and exited the building, racing to the work van in deep red hue for their escape with Ace.

At 06:07 pm, on the fifth floor, in the hallway aisle, Ace whipped out the cigarette lighter with a smile and ignited the flame, holding a sleeping pillow, burning the object. He tossed two fiery pillows into each room which started a hotel fire and back stepped from the two room, watching the flames burn the internal walls. He slammed into the wall and reached out, pulling the fire alarm. The humans and animals would leave the hotel building, without injury. The group of local fire trucks running through afternoon city traffic would take too many precious minutes to arrive and extinguish the flames inside the two hotel room that will nicely burn each one of the Black Suits, who worked for nasty Senator British. He dashed ahead to the staircase and whispered for his eardrums only, "Sometimes, I gotta do my own dirty work!" He soared down the flight of hard concrete steps and hit the bottom ground, shouting out loud. "Fire! Fire! Get outta of the hotel! Fire! Save yourself!" He exited the hotel and dashed to the running van, sliding into the side door. Streg was the new driver and quickly sped from the burning building.

Ace exhaled with relief and sat upright, nodding to the two new associates of Streg. He slapped his chest. "I am Ace. Streg is my friend. Or I am his new friend. Streg, what is your answer now?"

Streg blended into the slow-moving traffic, "My answer is yes."

Ace smiled and reached over, pulling out a second hidden drawer, pulling out medical supplies and bandages for his new friends. He tossed the items to Ikko and nodded. "Congratulations, my three new friends and one baby puppy. You are going to be employed by me as my new team of Resources. What does my new team of Resources do? You stay out of sight and work for me, protecting me and family members without me and my family knowing or seeing or smelling your presence. And you also do what you just did, protecting the innocent against the evil, when I uncover evil. What do you think, ya'll?"

Ikko gasped in shock and stared at Ace turning to see Julius. Julius continued to play with the puppy. She returned back and nodded to Ace, in silence.

Ace nodded. "Streg will explain everything a little later this evening. But first, we are going to go and visit Senator British. Do you know her address, Streg?'

Streg yelled back and continued to steer through afternoon work traffic, "Yeah, I do. She lives on Springhill Avenue in a great big antebellum house."

"Yes, she does." Ace smiled. "Drive us there! I think we need to give her a personal house call."

Ikko pulled out one of the alcohol pads and cleaned off each wound, gasped in pain, staring down at her body, "What about her gang of Black Suits?"

Ace smiled. "I do believe most of her employed black Suits are dead and burning inside the two hotel room."

She didn't look up and announced with fury anyways. "I can't believe that you burned those two hotel room. What about the hotel visitors?"

He nodded with a grin. "I pulled the fire alarm. The fires truck will arrive very late, too late, and the bodies of the Black Suits will blend into the pile of ashes."

"Wait!" Streg continued to drive with traffic and gasped in worry. "My name is reserved on both of those hotel rooms. The Mobile city law enforcement authorities will track me down and come after me for the murders of the mysterious Black Suits and the mysterious fireball at the hotel building."

Ace laughed, "Really?"

He sneered, "Yes, really! Senator British gave back my personal valid Alabama driver's license, so I could drive each truck to the final destination. I used my personal and valid Alabama driver's license and reserved the rooms paying in cash money from my friend. Now, I will responsible for the murders and the fire. I gotta get outta of here before the law enforcement authorities locate me. I will endanger the team with my presence."

Ace smiled. "Well, before you leave the beach town of Mobile, pull off the roadway and turn into the grand antebellum house in solid white. I do believe that white granite is hard to clean. This is Senator Reed Cathy 'Red Coat' British's grand house. I think you should pay her a visit and let her know that you are alive, not dead. Then maybe, she will have a heart attack and die on the floor, at your feet," he laughed with Ikko.

At 06:18 pm, in the heated air waves, at the start of a hot evening, Streg stopped the van on top of the nicely semi-circle pink tinted brick-coated driveway and slammed the gear into park, not killing the engine, running the air conditioning for his new friends. He opened the door and slid off the seat, standing on top of the pavement, straightening the dirty and blood stained Army fatigues, growling with annoyance. He slowly shuffled around the front of the van and moved over the smooth driveway, climbing each concrete step with a sneer, and stopped in front of the green tinted metal double doors with the twin wreathes of pretty pink orange, yellow real flowers. He ripped off one of the wreathes for her upcoming funereal and knocked on the metal door, tearing open his naked knuckles while snarling at the upcoming visitation. He didn't hear any footfalls inside the house. The door quickly opened and revealed a smiling face on Senator British.

She continued to identity the military soldier and then screamed in alarm, back stepping from the open archway. Streg entered the lovely entrance hallway with a tall twenty foot ceiling and numerous family painting on each wall that lounged near the cathedral wooden planks in white hue. She stopped and stood at the foot of the grand staircase, pointing at Streg, yelling out loud. "What! What are you doing here? How did you find me?"

He wiggled the floral wreathe in both hands and smiled at the senator, while figuring out how to kill her body and where to hide her body before he escaped from Mobile. "Your name and your address are printed on the public files as you are a public civil servant, Senator British. I do believe any American can come here and knock on your door for a social visit. You should be much more so nicer to an American citizen."

"You're a criminal, not a citizen. What do you want?" She sneered. "How did you escape from the prison cell? Escape! Yes, you have escaped your captures. Well, I am not impressed. I had expected something like this to happen. However, my hired personal guards are coming through the rear door for my protection and your death."

He laughed and shook his curls. "I don't think so. Your gang of hired guns in the expensive designer business suits of black hue are dead on the fifth floor of the Mobile Hotel."

"That hotel building is burning right now..."

"...with your dead Black Suits. So, it's just you and me here to dance the final waltz of the evening." He laughed again and tossed the wreath at her body. She slid sideways and dashed to the side. Streg reached over and grabbed her arm, holding onto her elderly body. He felt terrible murdering a defenseless woman, but this particular woman had done far worse to his body and his life. Streg had to escape from Mobile with his life, before the local law authorities tracked down his body here at her house. And he could not run to his friend Coup, who would find trouble for his person, his family and his friend. He continued to hold her body, without hitting the old woman, when the car horn blew outside the front porch.

Streg spun around with the woman and advanced to the front glass windows, seeing Ace outside the van. Ace was standing in front of a black tinted SUV and waved both of his arms in the air at Streg. Streg twisted around and dragged the woman to the rocking chair, tearing down the thick dark green tinted front window curtains that matched the lovely entrance hall furniture fabric an wrapped her elderly girly body inside the nicely padded cloth chair. He stood upright and laughed out loud. "Wait right here for me, honey! I got another appointment outside in the blistering heat and blinding sun. But I'll be right back, like my action hero Arnold," he spun around and laughed out loud, moving ahead towards the closed door, opening the metal, then gently shut it back, without anyone seeing his tied up hostage. Senator British continued to wiggle and screamed in fear, calling out for help. Of course, her hired guards were all dead inside the burning hotel room for trying to commit cold-blooded murder on two innocent Americans, which pissed Streg all the way towards the Pluto Ice Belt.

On top of the antebellum front porch of vanilla concrete, Streg strolled down each concrete step with a stern face and stared at Ace. Ace stood a few feet in front of a long silver tinted limousine with rolls of darkened glass windows. Streg was clueless to the owner or the occupant inside the new limousine. Ace spun around with a smile and pointed at the rear window, nodding to Streg in silence.

Streg continued to strut ahead, passed Ace, stopped, standing in the heated evening, staring at the rear dark glass window, facing an unknown occupant. The glass window slowly rolled down electronically and presented a face with shoulder length dark brown colored hair strands, a tone of olive colored skin, and a pair of brown tinted eyeballs. Streg leaned down toward the open window listening to the string of harsh English words coming from the mouth of the Columbia non-resident of the USA. Streg laughed out and stood upright, tossing his rear skull behind his back spine, leaning back down, thumbing back behind his collar bone. He smiled at the male, "One moment of your precious time, sir! I will personally go and get Senator Reed Cathy British for you. She is the one responsible for your messed up cargo. And she wants to apologize in person. How does that sound to you, sir?" the male then smiled without nodding his bone skull. Streg spun around and faced the front porch, moving ahead, nodding with laughter to Ace. Ace laughed out loud and nodded back in silence. Streg padded back up each hard step and opened the door, hearing her screams, seeing her wiggling body. He stopped and leaned down, smiling into her face. "Now, I wanted to have some fun and end your life for the horrible treatment and abuse of aborted babies, teens stoned on cocaine, and humans that only want a better life here in the USA, without adding all of my personal mistreatments, which is minor compared to your crimes of humanity. But I can't kill you."

Her chin dropped down into her chest and as a set of rolling tears filed her two eye sockets with relief. Her highly paid bodyguards were located here somewhere on her estate and running into the rear door. She will be saved, then find Streg, and kill him with her personal hand gun, ending her annoying annoyant that rubs her fanny raw. She looked up and growled at Streg.

He laughed out loud and stood upright, tossing his rear skull backwards again, smiling down at her. He reached out and untied the thick curtain drapes from her body while holding her body, plopping the entire curtain over her face in shock. "Surprise! I have another piece of important information for you, Reed Cathy British!" He reached down and lifted the fragile old woman from the chair, tossing her body over his board collar bone. She wiggled like an earthworm and screamed through the thick fabric curtain, producing a set of soft musical moans, where no other pair of human eardrums could hear the sound, maybe an outer space alien could.

Streg slowly spun around and faced the open door, speaking into her covered bone skull that rested a few feet from his collar bone. "I really hate to share this new piece of important information, but I am afraid I must, Reed Cathy British. I had substituted each one of those poor aborted and stolen baby organs for a dead but fresh chicken part, such like, a heart or a liver or a brain or a spleen. That's my first crime" he laughed out loud and exited the house, slowly moving down each hard step. He didn't want to trip and then fall, accidentally harming Reed or allowing her to escape from her ultimate punishment.

Inside the long curtain that covered her head and her body, Reed stopped screaming and understood the dirty deed on her person yelling in shock and fear through the thick fabric cords on the dark green curtain at Streg. "You are a stupid fool!"

He only heard a set of mumbled words coming from her covered mouth inside the thick curtain, but Streg figured out the angry intent, laughing out loud, explaining to Reed. "Then, I really did release all of the captured humans into the woodlands of Evergreen rest park, where they were not captured but have a new permanent home and each one will become a permanent American citizen without your money and your assistance. That was my third crime. My second crime, I filled up bags of white powder using grinded and then cooked honeysuckle leaves and flowers, replacing each cocaine bag underneath that protection cover inside that old pickup truck in faded green. I am really sorry, Reed. But that load of bags with honeysuckle leaves, not cocaine powder was delivery to a nasty Columbia drug lord. Now, that Columbian drug lord is parked inside a sliver tinted limousine on your street, in front of your house, and the drug lord wants to talk to you. So, I told him that you would meet him in person. So, I am carrying you toward his shiny limo, right now and right here for your secret conversation." Reed started wiggling her body and screaming out loud in fright and fear. Streg had to reach over and hold her wiggling body with both of his hands, then stopped, standing in front of the darkened glass window again.

The window dropped down. Streg pointed with a smile at the wiggling curtain. "This is Reed Cathy British, sir. She wanted to come disguised. I guess you can understand." One of the guards opened the door and left the rear bench seat, moving around the automobile, stopping behind the trunk. The lid on the truck opened up. He pointed inside the empty trunk space.

Streg nodded to the drug lord. "Nice doing business with you, sir!" He scooted sideways and laughed out loud along with Ace, who continued to stand beside the work van while outlining his hand gun, watching out for any trouble. Inside the van, Ikko held a hand gun and observed from the interior walls for any trouble also.

Streg stopped and stood in front of the empty trunk. "Well, this is it, Reed Cathy British. The drug lord told me to delivery in here," he tossed the elderly woman with the dark green curtain down into the trunk, squatting down, collecting the extra fabric and tossed over her body. "I'm sorry for the rough ride." He didn't really care, if she suffocated in death. As a matter of fact, Reed should pray to God for her earthly sins and hoped to die, before that angry drug lord gets her body. The paid employee closed the trunk shut and turned, nodding to Streg in silence, returning back to the rear bench seat, and closed the limousine door.

The shiny silver tinted limousine rode off into the blinding horizon. Streg laughed out loud and moved ahead back to Ace, who laughed with a nod. Streg stopped and asked. "Well, how did I do as your newly, highly paid Resource employee?"

Ace reached out and slapped the collar bone on Streg, smiling with a nod. "You did great, Streg. First, I'm going to take ya'll to my beach house. You need a week of fun and sun vacation before you start your duties. Second, I'm going to change your name. How does John Smith sound?"

Streg shook his curls and frowned. "I like the name John Smith. I don't mind changing my name to John Smith. But I reserved the two hotel rooms in cash money with my driver's license. I can in hindsight. I should not have done that. Now, the hotel building is burning down into a gigantic pile of ash, as we speak. I am worried that I will jeopardize your new Resource team with my face, not my name. The Alabama driver's license contains both my face and my name."

Ace smiled. "I think you should thoroughly examine your Alabama driver's license again."

Streg reached down and pulled the item, reading through the information, gasping in shock. "What! The name on the driver's license is Streg Stratum, not my real name, but holds my face. And the address is..." he looked up and stared at the antebellum house. "...her house residence. How did that happen?"

Ace laughed with a nod. "Red Coat British might be popular with the people, but not with the military. She duped and used the military arm with her political powers getting you released from your permanent prison sentence. At the Coast Guard Administration building, the commandant was pissed all the way towards the end of the galaxy and beyond. He made some phone calls too and had you tagged and tailed with his group of military spies, trying to catch Reed. However, you were very slick and did not fall into his trap either. Once I learned of Reed's slick trick, I sent my Resources out to fetch the truth, uncovering the horrible mess and covering up your mess, so your chicken farm friend will not die by the hand of the Deep State. Do not be mistaken! The Deep State or the Fourth Government really exists and loves to kill nosy spies that interfere in their business. But that is a different war."

Streg nodded. "Thanks, Ace! I really appreciate your help here."

He nodded. "Well, my evil intentions are revealed, now. My old team of Resources are retiring. I needed a new team to protect my ass and the asses of my kin. I like your leadership and your slick skills. The valid Alabama driver's seat is not really you or your person. Once this terrible government investigate uncurls, Reed Cathy British will become a fugitive of the law, since one will be able to find her dead body. So, you are cleared and cleaned from any wrong-doing since July, the first. How about a long vacation on Orange Beach in the sand and sun?"

Streg smiled, "Yeah, I need a long vacation. Your beach house sounds wonderful." They moved back into the front bench of the work van.

Ace started the engine and drove to his beach property, steering slowly down the roadway while watching for cars and people. He didn't slow the van but pointed to the window glass. "How apropos! Look out the left side of your window! You will see a grand antebellum house in ugly mint green paint on the wooden frame in front of three golden tinted limousines and a party of pretty people. Then a large fat male, a tall, slender woman and a small child slowly getting into the limousine. The woman is my sister, Mary Ann Smith. The child is my niece, Gem Smith, and the fat man is my childhood friend, brother-in-law, and the Alabama Senator Samuel 'Shotgun' Winchester Smith. He and his family members are talking with another old Mobile family clan, who are named Mary Ann Smith, the husband of Flash and the biological sister of Shotgun. Their children include teen Opal Onyx Smith, second teen girl Ruby Jade Smith, and third teen girl Azul Smith. I have three nephews who are named in order," he laughed. "Samuel Winchester Smith, Junior, who is a licensed Alabama physician and Samuel Winchester Smith, the third, who is a licensed Alabama lawyer and Samuel "Quad" Winchester Smith, the fourth, who is a licensed bank broker at one of the local banks here in Mobile."

Streg smiled through the window and absorbed the faces, noting the expensive designer clothes, hats, purses, and shoes in pastel colors. "The entire group sounds the same."

He continued to steer the van. "They are the same. Your primary mission, since you have accepted my employment as my Resource, is to watch, observe, and tattle back to me their personal, business, civil, social, and spiritual affairs."

The van passed the house and the party of people. Streg turned and stared at the nose profile on Ace. "Why? What have they done to you, Ace?"

"Nothing yet!" Ace sneered with angry and drove the van with his new team of Resources to his beach house property.

Streg gasped in shock wondering about his new job for Samuel Attila 'Ace' Smith, the military judge.

Present day, at 07:21 pm, on the same hot sizzling evening, in the same city of Mobile, on a different roadway, which was named _Springhill Avenue_ , several miles away from the Mobile Hospital, in the rear compartment of the second black tinted limousine, driver Julius continued to slowly steer down the roadway and then slowed the speed, turning off the highway, driving down a private driveway that was bricked in orange hue, which glowed underneath the sunset lights. He followed the curvy driveway and viewed a grand house.

The Tudor-style American house stood third stories tall and exhibited a steep pitched roofline with multiple gables, without a front porch, only a massive jetty from the second floor level hanging over the front door and a large slab of vanilla concrete. The upper levels exhibited half-timber diamond-shaped exterior sections in solid light gray tinted stone between a row of three tall glass window panes. Two matching stone-coated chimneys rose above the roofline and dominated the pale blue skyline. The front door held a chunky natural wooden door with a Medieval appearance.

Historically, the Tudor-style architectural design was created as a country house within the country of England between the 15th and 16th Century, during the British reign of Henry, the eight, who hailed from the House of Tudor and the royal prince of Welsh origins.

The manor consisted of solid stone wall, with hundreds of casement windows, and numerous ornate chimney stacks.

The English commoners developed a modest, less expensive format on the Tudor house style using a framework of timber with interwoven with individual wooden timber beams that become known as a wattle. Using a mixture of clay, sand and cow dung, which was called daub, the mixture filled in the spaces around the wattle, sealing the wall, creating a concrete barrier. Once the wattle and daub water placement dried, the concrete was painted in white hue sealing and protecting the structural wooden timber beams from the weather elements and wood rot. The half-timber design was visible from both the outside walls and the interior walls of the Tudor house, creating an exterior brown and white set of concrete windows of beauty and intrigue.

The wealthier commoners added solid brick panels and a row of glass window panes between the wattle and daub sections. Each fireplace with a tall exterior stone chimney that matched exterior brick panels between the wattle and daub sections was added in numerous interior rooms inside the new Tudor construction while serving as a heat source warming each room and the kitchen setting for food preparation. The smoke was channeled through the stone chimney rather than through a hole in the rooftop. The level of second floor bedroom chambers possessed a high ceiling with a set of exposed timber beams for structural strength and beauty.

In the country of America, the most famous Tudor-style building is the Adams Building. The Adams Building was constructed in the year 1890 in the city of Quincy, within the US State of Massachusetts. The building structure had housed merchant offices on the ground and residential apartment on the second floor. The building had been built by John Quincy Adams, the second, who was the grandson of United States President John Quincy Adams. The exterior wall featured decorative half-timbering style, a steep roofline with multiple gables, and two tall stone chimneys.

One of the second most recognizable Tudor-style structures in America is the Astor Home for Children. This building is also known as the Little Red Schoolhouse. The building was constructed by businessman and philanthropist Vincent Astor in the year 1914. The manor was designed to accommodate sick children recovering from their disease or illness. The building is located on eighteen acres of land in the city of Rhinebeck, within the US State of New York and is listed on the National Register of Historical Places in the USA.

The limousine pulled onto the red tinted brick covering the dirt and stopped. Julius didn't stop the engine but opened the door, sliding out, opening the rear door and waited, watching Samantha Germer, medical physician.

In the rear compartment, Germer was not tied and bound by a set of ropes, only a set of principles. She looked down at the hands that did not shake, exhaling with worry, looking up to see Ikko. Ikko didn't smile only stared at the talented, but dishonesty medical physician. Germer said. "You have signed my death warrant. "

Ikko still didn't speak but nodded. "I know."

She frowned at Ikko. "How...how did you know that I would eventually perform the operation that girl? When you confronted me with your gun and your threat, this morning, I was still refused and resisted. If you hadn't called in your goon squad, coming here to my house, I would be here enjoying my Fourth of July."

Ikko nodded with a stern face. "You wanted a way out. I could see and smell that. So, I provided you an easier way out. You should be thanking or thinking of me."

She sneered. "I am cursing you. You did this to me."

Ikko shook her red tinted long hair, "You did that to you womanly body, a long time, before I was even born, Dr. Samantha. We all live on Earth for a reason. Now, you gotta hear the fat lady sing during performing a jig, at the same time. Get out of my car!"

Samantha scooted over the long bench and slid off the seat, standing upright, nodding to Julius, moving ahead into her house. The door was unlocked from the first kidnapping event a few hours ago. She entered the foyer setting and disappeared into the interior walls, closing and locking her front door.

At the parked limousine, Ikko slid off the rear bench seat and slipped by Julius, sliding down into the passenger seat with a giggle. Julius closed the rear door and back stepped, slipping back down into the driver's seat. Ikko patted the seat. "I like this long vehicle. I think we should buy one and use it when we bring a stray dog or cat to our new home, joining our family. What do you think, Julius?"

He slowly drove the limousine ahead and watched a row of potted plants on his side within the driveway, curving around the pavement, heading back to the main hallway. "We were supposed to eliminate Dr. Sam. But we didn't. That was Ace's last order."

She turned and smiled at the front door. "Dr. Sam is not going to tattle to anyone about us. I promise."

"We also made a promise."

She returned back and smiled at the nose profile on Julius. 'We also made a deal. This is our last deed for Ace. He is happy now. We are happier now. Let's go back to our Mobile house and move the rest of our personal possessions to our new home, using this vehicle, for the rest of the evening. Are you happy, Julius?"

Julius drove the transport and smiled. "Yes, I am happy, Ikko."

"Good!" Ikko laughed.

At 07:31 pm, inside her Tudor-designed house, licensed medical physician and female Samantha Germer slowly moved ahead through the heavy front door and inhaled out a shallow series of short breathes, viewing the grand living room setting in earth tones of tank, brown and vanilla, for the last time. She had spent her entire life completing the construction of her Alabama mini-mansion, in money, greed, vanity, and pain. The cathedral ceiling contained a row of exposed ceiling beams in dark wood that appeared like each one was magically glued onto the wooden planks, and might drop down on top of your head, if you were not staring at the set. She reached a long purple colored leather sofa inside the living room setting and dropped on top of the soft cushions, softly wheezing, loudly coughed out loud her contaminated air molecules, whispering her shallow breathes. "Ikko is a brilliant woman. She should have been a psychiatrist, instead of a parasite on society. The prescribed primidone medication destroyed part of my brain tissues within the thalamus stopping my hand tremors. However, now, the medication is slowly draining out from my chemical system and killing the rest of my brain cells with it. I don't have much time left. Ikko really did read my mind. I had deceived so many people trying to enter into medical school. I had been rejected as Samantha Germer and then came up with the brilliant idea of becoming a man, who was named Sam Germer. My idea worked. I was accepted, attended, and graduated from medical school. Then, I started my private medical practice as a male licensed male physician and prominent surgeon. No one knew my real identity. Everything was running so smoothly. Then I became very, very sick missing my work and my patients. I could not go to see another medical physician with my secret. I could not prescribe my own medication without prompting an investigation. I possessed Graves' disease, which is an inherited disease, that came from my maternal grandmother, who had mysterious died at any early age, before forty years old. The cycle of life and death was repeating for me too. I had to accept the fate that I had chosen for my person. I could look back or turn back the clock or ask for help, without going straight to jail for fraud, lying and other crimes, where I would surely die, alone and lonely. So, I carried on until I couldn't carry on. then that young girl came to see me. She had a complex, not complicated case of fibrosis. A simple laser procedure could remove the hardened fibers. I told her all of that information. She would have found another talented surgeon, not me, of course. She was engaged to Samuel Attila Smith, the fourth. I know that name. He was the hotshot young military judge, some nine years ago. He tried and convicted every soldier throughout the USA inside his courtroom and found each one guilty, discharging each one from the military branch, tossing their ass onto the city street of Mobile, where they caused more trouble for the Mobile police department. And his brother-in-law was a state senator, so possessed a mighty and mightier personality also. But the brother-in-law and his wife were somehow murdered by a gang of terrorists or something, here in Mobile. No one knows the true story. But I do. Ace murdered all of them in cold blood, at his house. His only biological sister had been mysterious murdered in her house, this year, a few months ago, during their Mardi Gras party. Then Ace tired and convicted each one of his family members of the crime and murdered them inside his house. Of course, I know now. However, I can't tattle to anyone." She coughed and the gagged, lying down on top of the soft sofa, wheezing for air molecules, whispering for her eardrums. "I could record a confession of my kidnapping by Ace Smith, the military judge. No one would believe me. My recording would become judged as a vocal hallucination from my recent drug abuse, finding primidone inside my body, after committing suicide inside my own home. The primidone medication is killing each one of my brain cells and cannot be stopped. The brain can't function without cells," she laughed with delirium. "Ace always gets his man or woman, in this case. I wished that I had met and married a man, like Ace. Maybe, I would have been a good woman, instead." She softly chuckled and closed her two eyelashes. "Old Magritte murdered Grandpa Smith. Well, she deserves to die too. I am sorry for deceiving all of these good people, including men, women, and children. But my whispered words do not matter now. When my dead, blue colored body is discovered by the poor scared housekeeper tomorrow morning, the terrible news will spread like a wildfire throughout the city and roll over into the next county. The good physician was a woman, not a man. She finally broke under pressure and killed her person, avoiding jail time. The news will have fun time and all of my patient will sue my estate for money." She exhaled with a set of shallow breathes. "Now, I lie me down to sleep, on earth. I pray my soul to keep, in heaven. If I shall die, before I wake up in hell. I pray..." Samantha Germer wheezed out her last breath and expelled her living soul from the human body. Her living soul slowly drifted up from the dead bio-shell into the open arms of the angel of death. The angel of death slowly escorted Samantha from the earth plane into the pearly gates of heaven, for a meeting with the Prime Creator.

Forty minutes, thirty-two minutes, sixteen minutes, and fifty four milliseconds, at 08:37 pm, in the first rolling black tinted limousine, Streg ended his historical nightmare, still roaring the engine over the Interstate 10, slamming down on the brakes. Magritte tumbled sideways inside the trunk of the transport, screaming out loud without an aid from the rude driver.

The automobile squeaked the tires and jolted to a stop. He guided the car over the rough pavement, s topping in front of the long squat building in ugly pale blue hue, without killing the engine. He reached over and grabbed the white tinted bag, open the door, sliding off the seat and stood on top of the rough pavement. He scanned the parking lot, seeing one or two person and a few cars inside each slot, spinning around and roamed towards the trunk. He opened the trunk and assisted Magritte to stand upright from the trunk floor, balancing her wobbling plump body on top of the pavement.

Magritte exhaled with annoyance and scanned the new environment, gasping in shock. The limousine was parked in front of an ugly, short motel structure, which offered only one story, one bedroom rental for one night, weeks, or months. A few persons were staring at the parked limousine but continued on their way without bothering Streg or Magritte. She continued to scan the ugly place and huffed with annoyance, straightening the dirty, torn, and smelly designer clothes.

Streg wanted to leave the town and start his new life, leaning down into her dirty face. "Magritte..."

She raised her voice like Magritte was going to react. "I'll scream, if you touch me."

He laughed. "I ain't touching you, honey. I am telling you, honey. I am not going to kill you, even though Ace wants a death act. I want a death act. You deserve a death act. Everyone knows that you murder Attila. I found the tiniest detergent pod in the world ..."

"You...you...you were the waiter at Ace's house. I recognize your voice as I cannot see your face. But I do remember your body and your name."

He smiled. "My name is fake, and my face is real. And you still murdered Attila. I gave the tiniest detergent pod as legal evidence to Ace. He has it and he is keeping it for future events. Now, I am not going to kill you. I have driven from Mobile and landed you in Winner. Yeah, this is the name of the town, Winner. I thought the name was appropriate. Here in Winner, you can get a job and go to work. As you cannot ever show your ass back in Mobile, ever."

She sneered. "I can go where ever I please, young man. I am an American here. This is my home."

He smiled. "I am an American too. This is my home too, but I don't just murder an innocent human being."

She growled. "I do not harm anyone."

He nodded. "Okay! You are innocent of a murder, but not a crime. you heard Ace inside the operating room. Both of the Last Will and Testimony legal documents provide nothing for you in terms of monies or land or riches, sweetheart. I don't know, if you caught Ace's tale, so I will repeat it for you, here and now. A wealthy person places all of their millions and billions of cash inside a bank trust fund. The Smith trust fund only has Ace's name on it, so Ace owns all of the money bank accounts, houses, cars, boats, trains, planes..."

"I know the purpose of trust fund."

He grinned. "But you don't own one. I was puzzled too, that you wanted to marry Attila. He was a fine catch of the day, but you and he were not on the same social ladder. When I went to work for Ace, many years ago, I thoroughly researched his name and his family. I needed a working job, but I wanted to stay alive at the end of my job. I didn't want to work a gangster family and end up dead, before I collected my first cash payment. So, I quickly learned the blue blood genealogy of Mobile town. Attila's family came some town up north. But your ancestral family is one of the twenty three blue blood clans of Mobile. Now days, blue bloods marry a blue blood to keep the blood flowing in red hue," he laughed.

She smiled. "You are correct with your historical ancestral family of blue bloods."

So, I was confused why you wanted to marry non-blue blooded Attila. Then I do some deep searching in your background. You married another blue blood gentleman and things were trucking fine and dandy. Then he become very sick. You become the nurse and comforted his needs. But sick people require food and medicine and physicians. You paid for all of that in cash money from your blue blood bank account, without using the insurance monies and stirring up gossip. Then, his business went bankrupt and you had to pay off all of the debts with your blue blood bank account, in secret. Then he died and you paid for a grand funeral with your blue blood bank account. After he died, your ancient antebellum house on Daphne Street was in disarray, so you paid for a fancy restoration with your blue blood bank account. Then, I become confused. Outta of the blue sky, you up and married non-blue blood Attila. I was really curious and intrigued and dug down further into your past dealings. Once you were engaged to Attila, at the first of the year, you decided to sell the ancient antebellum house. I saw the For Sale sign in the yard. However, no one came by and purchase a true historical antebellum house, which was so very odd. Then, I dug..."

"Get to you point!" Magritte snapped.

"Your antebellum house did not qualify as a National Registered Historical Place, within the US Archives. So, you decided to see your house and find a house, not a husband, that was listed in the USA historical database. So, you picked and targeted the house on 6668 Ansley Lane, where Attila lived as a widower. You played him, lady. Then you got played. The universe is so flighty and mighty. When you tried to sale your own house, you found out that all three of your neighbors occupied your land. But, in reality, your house occupied their lands, an ancient mistake, since the year 1710 or somewhere like that. Always, you were engaged in three legal lawsuits with three neighbors over the three different tracks of disputed land properties. Now, you could have conceded or conceited, giving up the land property rights and walked away with a hand bag of monies. But, no! You did not. You fought against all three neighbors and lost the three battles. They won the land properties rights and you won all of the court bills, in which, you paid from the blue blood trust fund. Now, you finally own your house and your property land and go to sell the house, finding out that ancient antebellum does not make the house and hurricane codes, so you use more money from your blue blood trust fund. When it is time for you to sell the house and sign the papers, you own the new owners over six million dollars for all of the building code mistakes and rotten wood, terminates, and other structure problems. You pay from your blue blood trust fund. By the time you marry Attila, who has money, but he is not a blue blood, you do not have a blue blood trust fund or a checking bank account or a saving account, because you are penniless and homeless and ruthless. Your fairy tale ends here. But now, you demon tale begins. Ace does not know about your non-existence blue blood trust fund. Else, he would have tattled to his granddaddy and then you would have ever married Attila. Thus, Attila would be here alive and breathing and you would be living on the street. That's only my opinion."

She sneered. "How do you know so much about bank accounts and blue bloods and legal matters? You're a vicious murderer, not an investment manager."

He smiled. "I used all of my free nighttime hours to attend and graduate from law school. I am a licensed Alabama lawyer. My lawyering skill are telling you this, bitch. Attila did not own any assets or monies, including his house. Ace does. So, the fake or true Last Will and Testimony legal document signed by Attila cut you out of his estate and all of his monies. However, I did find a penny outside the limousine from Attila. You can have it." He handed her the penny. She sneered in his face without accepting it. He laughed. "I guess you understand the legal matter now. You have nothing. You get nothing. You are nothing. Ace has instructed me to kill you and you deserve it. But I ain't going to do that."

She laughed. "Ace is a vicious man. He will find out and find you and kill you. He does that all the time."

He frowned. "No, he will not. I have a bag of money, 100,000 dollars, in small bills, your new bank account. This is the town of Winner, your new city. You have a rental motel room for one week, your new home. Take the money and live or dead or stay the hell outta of Mobile. Ikko was the one who had set you up by buying Attila's mansion, that you thought you owned. If you show up in Mobile, Ace will know. Then, Ace will show that signed legal document to the district law office, then you will be arrested and sentenced for fraud and other legal law crimes, that carries twenty or more years of imprisonment. Your ass will be placed in jail, before you can holler, wolfie." He picked up and pitched the bag to the side and safely away from the running limousine and nodded with a sweet smile to Magritte. "I have said, my peace. You have your peace. Goodbye, Miss Magritte. I wish you the best of luck in your new life, here in the town of Winner." He scooted backwards and moved ahead, slipping down into the driver's seat, closing the door. He viewed the rear view mirrors for Magritte. She raced away from the trunk on limousine and collided into the bag, squatting down, sobbing with her sorry life. Streg jerked the gear into drive and slowly steered ahead, feeling terrible for the elderly woman, finishing the last dirty deed for Ace. He smiled with delight and started his new daydream, heading back to the rental company first. He will drop off the rental limousine and retrieve a taxi cab to the Mobile Yacht Club, boarding his new boat, spending the night there, where all of his new clothes and supplies are unpacked and ready for its new sea master.

Tomorrow is a new day.

At 08:41 pm, the sunset was peeking through the low clouds displaying an array of pink, red, blue, green, yellow, and orange hue on the horizon. Back at the Mobile Hospital, on the fourth floor, inside number seven operating surgical suite, Ace sat on top of the tall stool in his regular clothes and watched Fawn with a smile. She was still asleep but slowly twitched some of her limbs while stirring into both her mind and her body into a state of consciousness. He was so excited and wanted Fawn to awake up, informing her of the great news. She can speak with a breathy voice of hoarseness for the few hours and then the rest of the first week. Then, she will be able to talk like a normal girl for the rest of her life. Ace needed to find another infectious disease doctor with a set of surgery skills, like Dr. Samantha, as soon as possible, that could continue to monitor and remove the rest of the little particles of hardened fibers on each one of her vocal cords, which would be an issue now, with more time for the both of them.

He also needed to wrap up that silly pirate bridal party on Friday night, ceasing all social events. He also decided the wedding would be Saturday night inside the beach house in Orange Beach with his daughter Gem and his future bride Fawn. All of them had enough excitement by the pass four months to last a lifetime. Fawn and Ace wanted to start their new life together even without his granddaddy. He wiped off a rolling tear and exhaled with deep sorrow, when the operating room door flung open. Ace jumped off the stool, and reacted in one fluid motion, swing around from Fawn, pulling out his hand gun, protecting his girl, pointing at the person. He shouted out loud in shock. "Kam, what in the hell are you doing here?" He lowered the gun and replaced down the pocket on his walking shorts.

Kamius Feesher, MD entered the cold operating room and wore a set of orange tinted surgical gear, moving ahead towards Ace. "What in the hell are you doing inside this ice cold operating room, without my medical advice? I am not a surgeon, only a cardiologist, Ace."

He frowned. "What!"

She stopped and stood beside Fawn, reaching down, checking each human body parts on Fawn. "She feels warm. She is slowly stirring awake. The sedation should be almost gone from her chemical system. But she is going experience a weaken state for a while maybe the rest of the night. She needs to eat some food, only mild food items, like soft crackers and fresh water. The bruising on her face will heal, but no rough playtime, Ace."

"What!" He spun around to face Fawn and Kam, gasping in shock and worry. "What are you doing here, Kam? How do you know to come here, Kam? What is going on here, Kam?"

"Fawn. Fawn. Can you hear me? This is Dr. Feesher. Can you hear my words? Press my finger, if you can hear my words, Fawn. I want to know if you can hear me and if you are becoming conscious again." Kamius continued to probe Fawn's body while stirring the girl awake.

Fawn moaned softly and then started to wiggle her body. Kamius smiled and stated to Ace. "Come over here, Ace!"

"No!" A new female voice shouted out loud and as the petite body frame moved through the open archway. "Come over here, Ace! I need your help first."

Ace spun around to face the entrance wall and gasped in shock, dashing ahead, colliding into the upright body. He hugged the body into his chest and whispered in shock. "Granddaddy!"

Attila pulled back from his grandson and slightly grinned from a weakened body that was filled with pain medication, staring at Ace, croaking in a whisper of joy too. "Yeah, I can hear good. I just can't stand upright good yet."

"Granddaddy, are you a he-ghost? Because, I can see you and I can touch you and I can smell you." Ace gasped in shock and continued to steady his grandfather.

Kamius motioned to the operating table. "Ace, bring Attila over here. He needs to lie down."

"No, woman!" Attila growled.

"Escort him over here. He needs to sit down and get off his feet." Amalia smiled and moved ahead, reaching out, grabbing the arm on Attila as Ace slowly steered his grandfather over to the operating table. They arrived at the table. Ace lifted his grandfather onto the flat surface. Attila automatically tilted over and rested on his side, closing both of his eyelids, resting from the medical condition.

Kamius moved away from Fawn, who was resting and wiggling her body into a conscious state, holding a blanket for Attila. She stopped and placed the white tinted blanket over the elderly man, standing upright, spinning around and laughed at Ace. Ace stood in shock and awe, staring down at his granddaddy, who was alive and breathing. She said. "I do believe that Ace needs an explanation."

Amalia wore a lavender tinted pair of scrubs and stood on the opposite side of Ace, near the foot of Attila, smiling at Ace. "I do believe that Ace needs to guess what he is seeing here."

Kamius nodded with a stern face. "Yes, I do believe that Ace needs a taste of his own medicine. What do you think has happened here, Ace?"

Ace continued to stare with a goofy smile at his granddaddy. "Ugh! My granddaddy is alive, not dead. So, his funeral was fake, and his heart attack was false."

Amalia nodded. "Well, that's a pretty good guess, but not completely accurate. However, you did the heavy footwork and uncovered the murder plot, that really didn't murder Attila, but did come close. You found the individual murder weapons, after snooping around inside Attila's house. Magritte somehow created a set of gelatin capsules using common washer machine detergent inserted between the two rubber capsule shells. She slipped three gelatin capsules down into his tumbler of sweet tea on Wednesday morning, during the silly pirate bridal decoration party. Your man Streg ..."

"How do you know Streg? No one knows Streg." He frowned with confusion.

She frowned. "Do you wanna hear the demon tale or not, Ace?"

"Yes, I do." Ace nodded with worry.

She nodded. "Streg was watching your granddaddy, when he noticed Attila was in distress and reacted very quickly. He saved Attila's life by performing that quick tracheotomy on Attila's throat muscles cutting out a breathing hole for the air flow and releasing that single gelatin capsule, which was choking Attila, that dropped down on the patio floor. One of the smarter waitresses called the emergency hotline 911. The paramedics came and brought Attila to the emergency room. Kamius and I knew each other and worked together on a number of medical cases; but we also knew and medical treated you and Attila, for any illnesses for years. She saw Attila and called me into the mysterious medical case. Streg followed the ambulance and tracked down Kamius, who was with me and presented to us that single tiny gelatin capsule. Kamius immediately ordered an X-ray and found the third gelatin capsule inside Attila's stomach. She performed an urgent surgery operation here at the hospital, where his stomach was sliced open and the toxin capsule was removed, saving his life. During this time, Magritte took her time coming to the hospital and arrived later inside her personal limousine. You were not present at the emergency room yet. So, the three of us had plenty of time to concoct a new plan for you and Magritte."

Ace gasped in shock. "But I saw my granddaddy in a hospital bed, today."

Kamius smiled. "Did you really see Attila, Ace?"

He nodded. "Yes, I walked to the hand railing and touched his hand in his hospital bed, inside the hospital."

Amalia smiled. "Did you really see Attila, Ace?"

He waved both of his hands. "Okay. I did not see my granddaddy. So, who did I see in that hospital bed?"

Kamius nodded with a smile. "You and Magritte saw a poor homeless man, who had been beaten up in the street and brought to the hospital. Often times, we are not allowed to treat none of the homeless people, who do not have any money or health insurance. So, your cash money paid for his nice short inpatient stay and paid for all of his medical tests. I hope you don't mind, Ace."

He smiled. "No. No. I don't mind. You, two are geniuses. Where did my granddaddy go?"

Kamius nodded. "Mobile Hospital has a private VIP wing for the rich and famous. He didn't go there. We also have a charity ward for the poor and helpless sick medical patients. Attila went there for his medical examination and bodily safekeeping. After his immediate operating room surgery, I placed Attila back there for his safety and recovery. We don't want Magritte knowing that Attila was alive and well. She had tried to kill him before and she almost succeeded, the first time. Magritte would never figure out that Attila had went there and she would never go to _that_ charity ward. Amalia acted as her attending physician, while I was the cardiologist for the homeless man. I am sorry to report the homeless man died unexpectedly, which created the second plot of our unplanned deception. Once you and Magritte left the hospital, the homeless man died from numerous illnesses. I used the same dead body and set up the death scene. Streg left the hospital and followed you around the town, Ace. He was calling us and narrating your actions on the road, inside the house, and outside the house. Why were you doing inside that house?"

Ace frowned. "That's my affair. Streg was part of your little band of misfits. I found the solution that went into the gelatin capsule at my granddaddy's house. Then, I went home, and I had to tell..." He gasped in worry. "What am I supposed to tell Gem and Fawn? We saw a burning box..."

"... without seeing the dead body. You saw the homeless man's funeral, not Attila's. The cremator made a mistake." Kamius smiled.

He frowned. "What about the dead body in the hospital?"

Amalia winked. "What dead body in the hospital, Ace?" She laughed with Kamius.

He tossed both of his hands in the air and then slapped them by his side, nodding with a sour frown. "Fine! Fine! I'll think of something to tell Fawn and Gem."

Kamius smiled. "Hospitals makes mistakes all the time, Ace."

Amalia giggled. "O! We are so sorry. We made a mistake. Attila is not dead; he is alive and well. O well! O hell! Let's celebrate and party down!" She laughed with Kamius.

He frowned. "What about all of these people here inside the ICU hallway, doctor?"

Amalia winked. "What people, Ace?" She laughed with Kamius again.

He huffed with annoyance. "So, who is going to explain about the hospital bed and the dead man?"

Kamius smiled. "Ace, people come; people go. Gossip lives; gossip dies. No one will really care. Now..."

"...I still don't understand. Who was the dead body in the morgue autopsy room?" He frowned.

Amalia nodded. "The dead body wheeled from his cool refrigerated storage was the same poor homeless man, for his final death performance. I really didn't cut up his body, only showed you the second gelatin capsule that Dr. Kamius had removed from Attila's stomach, during surgery. Honestly, you were so distraught and unfocused that you didn't notice my non-moving hands or my lack of medical instruments, during the fake autopsy. I felt really bad deceiving you, Ace, but that was part of our plan to save Attila's life force from nasty Magritte. Once you left the autopsy room, the poor homeless man was sent back to his cold storage box and then he was cremated the next day, in which, you, Gem, and Fawn had to witness. He really appreciated that you paid for his burial burn."

Ace nodded with a smile. "I am happy to help that man. Please don't feel bad about your plotted deception plan that worked. I'm the happier one that my granddaddy is here, and Magritte is..."

Amalia winked at Ace. "Where is Magritte located, right now, Ace?"

He gasped in shock and retained his deep dark deadly secret. Streg had been ordered to kill Magritte and hid the cold, blue tinted dead body, riding the world of another nasty southern belle. "Uh!"

Kamius nodded with a smile to Ace. "The local police officers are arresting Magritte, right now, in the town of Foley, which is forty minutes southeast from the seaport of Mobile, Alabama. Streg worked with us and followed Magritte, when she left the city of Mobile with a bag of stolen cash money from Attila's safe. Then he called the local police officers and reported the crime, retrieving the bag of money, arresting Magritte. She will never see or bother Attila again. And I am happy about that."

Ace laughed with a nod and as he knew the true story. His Resource Streg had plotted that brilliant deceptive idea into the mind on the two physicians and then executed, literally, a different plan with nasty southern belle Magritte.

Kamius nodded with a smile to Ace. "Now, all of our secrets have been spilled and all of your questions have been addressed. And I arranged for you to secure and access an empty operating room on the Fourth of July."

He gasped in shock. "You did not. What did you do? Do you know Dr. Sam Germer also?"

She laughed. "I do not personally know of Sam Germer. I heard his name around town. However, your man Streg told me about Fawn's damaged voice folds and her pending surgery. So, I want ahead and reserved this operating suite for the Fourth of July holiday weekend. I mean really, Ace, no medical operations are performed during a major operation. You and she could have waited a couple of weeks for an open operating suite, but I do understand the urgency with your upcoming marriage ceremony. So, Streg convinced me to arrange her minor operation, this afternoon. So, I also have arranged a clean-up crew to clean and sterile this operating room, before the regular staff comes back tomorrow morning. But you are paying with cash for all of this activity. Streg gave me a bag of cash that provided to the business office for her surgery supplies and rental of the operating room. Her healthy insurance is not going to pay for this."

He smiled and nodded several times, waving both of his hands near his jaw line. "No problem! No problem, Kam! If you get another hospital bill or a slew of hospital invoices, then you send all of them to me. I'll gladly pay for all of this. And thanks for the nice surprise. I really appreciate both of your assistance for helping Fawn and her voice folds. Streg didn't give me all of the details but set up the activity. He's very good at his job."

Amalia frowned. "What job function does Streg perform for you, Ace? I can't figure out his job assignments. Is he also a former military officer?"

He gasped in shock. "Uh! Streg is a wrangler. He wrangles things and stuff for me. Now, I'm very happy to see and hear that my granddaddy is alive and well, still sleeping over there on top of that metal operating table. How is my girl Fawn doing?" Ace spun away with worry from the body of his granddaddy, who continued to sleep on top of the flat operating table, moving ahead back to Fawn. He stopped and touched her arm. She was conscious and wiggled around, feeling dizzy and tired, touching the bruises on her face. He leaned into her face and whispered sweetly. "You caught me! I kidnapped you and brought you here inside one of the operating surgery suites. Sam Germer MD came and performed here too. But he is gone now. Dr. Sam happily removed all of the thickened fibers on each one of your voice cords, Fawn. You should be able to talk now."

"Stop it, Ace!" Kamius shuffled ahead and stood on the opposite side of Fawn, touching the arm on the Fawn also. "Ace is correct. Dr. Sam Germer performed the operation and scraped off the harden fibers on each voice folds. You are still dizzy and weak from the sedation medication. And your throat is sore, but you are not sick. The voice folds are inflamed but will heal in one week. You can talk after your recovery."

Fawn continued to wink her two eyelashes open and then shut from the dizziness, but her eardrums heard the wonderful words. She tried to smile with happiness, but her lips were chapped and bleeding. Her mouth was sore and bloody. She continued to probe her achy face muscles.

Kamius nodded with a stern face. "The surgery required Dr. Sam entering down into and working inside your mouth. You do not wanna look into a mirror for another three days. You are feeling a set of scattered ugly blue tinted bruises over your facial muscles and intense pain coming each facial bone movements. So, don't move your mouth but to eat. Ace is assigned as your nurse caring for you at home. Do you understand?" Fawn slightly nodded with a flat face from the intense pain. She smiled. "Excellent! You're a good patient. Ace, you can take Fawn and Attila back home to your house. And I have ordered a private nurse for both of my patients to come to your house, starting tonight."

Amalia spun around with a smile and moved ahead back to the entrance wall, shouting out loud to every pair of eardrums. "The clean-up crew and the transport crew have arrived. Transports, there are two patients here that go into an individual ambulance and then back to their private residence. Ace can give you the city street address. Clean-up crew, you can get started with your cleaning and then lock up the operating room door, when you are finished. Good night Ace! Happy marriage! Don't call me for any issues! Call Kam!" She laughed out loud and exited the room, still chuckling inside the empty hallway, heading back home also.

Beside the operating chair, Kamius frowned and slapped her chest, nodding to Ace. "Yes, please call me, if Fawn or Attila are having any clinical problems. Bye, Ace and Fawn! Happy life to you and yours!" She spun around and faced the entrance wall, exiting the operating suite for her home also. The clean-up crew started shifting hospital equipment pieces around the room for the mopping procedure. A pair of transport males gently worked on a sleepy Attila, moving the old man carefully onto a wheeled hospital gurney.

Beside the operating chair, a pair of male transporters slowly approached Fawn with a second wheeled hospital gurney for her transportation inside the waiting ambulance and then riding her body towards her residential home. Ace leaned over and smiled into the slightly swollen face on Fawn, whispering into her non-bruised cheekbone. "You are all healed, precious. You are not supposed to talk, even with a whisper for another seven days. Then you can start talking non-stop, until the day one of us passes to the great beyond and away from the planet.

Fawn rubbed her sore jaw line and opened her mouth, feeling alert and happy, wiggling her sore tongue. She cleared her throat and felt the raw tissues on each one of her scrape voice cords. "I'm pregnant." She whispered her first words into the face of her future husband.

Ace gasped in shock and then smiled with joy, back stepping from her, dancing in a circle, like a silly child, hollering with delight. He stopped whirling with a grin and stepped back into her face. "I love your first words. And I wanna say back: I love you, Fawn. I'm so happy for you, me and our unborn child. Now, the pair of transporters must take you back home inside the ambulance. I'll be leading us back home. I love you, Fawn."

She did not whisper this time using her sore voice folds and as her throat felt raw and burned like a fireball, instead silently mouthing her words into his face **: I love you**. She nodded with a slight grin and as her facial muscles ached in pain also.

The first pair of transports were exiting the operating suite with a sleepy Attila on top of the portal gurney. A second pair of male transports quickly shuffled Fawn onto the second hospital gurney and placed a set of warm blankets over her body, slowly shoving the table through the open archway.

Ace followed behind and actually skipped with happiness, praying to the Prime Creator for his alive and breathing granddaddy, a healed and recovering Fawn, a safe and alive daughter Gem, and a growing unborn fetus inside the womb on Fawn. Now, his new life began with a set of fake fireworks on America's birthday, the Fourth of July also.

Nine days later, on July 13th, Ace and Fawn had hosted the private wedding inside Attila's larger manor with his two personal friends Slick and Buck, and some of the more important selected snobby blue-blood Mobilians in attendance as invited guests. Fawn smiled and softly talked with her healing voice cords pronouncing her love for her new husband Ace for each pair of eardrums to hear.

Attila felt better and served as the best man for his grandson Ace. Fawn, without a single bridesmaid, wore her second wedding mini-dress in candy pink hue with a pair of sandals for the picnic reception in the back yard in the sizzling heated day while annoying all of the guests, so each one would leave.

After eating the delicious meal of meats, vegetables, breads, and fruits and cutting and then eating the wedding cake, both Ace and Fawn stood beside the entrance wall at the open archway, nodding with a smile. Ace slapped each collar bone and shouted out loud to each departing guest. "Thank you for coming to the wedding of Ace and Fawn. And thanks for the dual gifts for our happy marriage and our growing baby fetus. Don't come back! Enjoy your day! See you never again her." He chuckled after each announcement.

Fawn occasionally elbowed his rib cage and giggled with a sweet tune, softly speaking to each guest without wearing out her healing voice folds. "Thanks for coming!"

Slick and Buck stood in front of Ace. Ace leaned over and provided a manly hug to his best friends, nodding with a smile. They nodded in silence with understanding, leaving Ace with his new bride and his new life, with a growing fetus inside Fawn's stomach.

Ace slammed the door and spun around, smiling at Fawn. "The end!"

"The beginning!" Fawn smiled and hugged her new husband with eternity love, pulling back with a stern face. "Ace, I wanted to inquire about the triplet females..."

"Whoa, little lady!" He pulled back and tossed both of his palms near his stern face. "Now, the triplet sisters are just high school friends. They're nothing more, not even neighbors or terrible friends. They are nothing to me or to you or to us."

She exhaled with annoyance. "Then tell me this!"

He frowned with worry. "Tell you what? There is nothing to tell, sweetheart. I love you!" Ace leaned over to kiss her face. She back stepped and crossed her arms, shaking her long light brown hair. He frowned again. "What did I do? O! The first born triplet sister has a puppy dog crush on me. That's all! She means nothing to me. I promise."

She frowned. "Tell me this!"

"Tell you what! There is nothing to tell you, from me, honey!"

She nodded. "Why do you insult the triplet sisters and call them those three rhyming names, such, Holly, Dolly, Molly or Abby, Gabby, Tabby? Why do you insult the three sisters with those nasty three names of Chastity Belt, Hopeless, Faithless?"

He laughed out loud and slapped his chest, nodding with a smile. "O that! Is that your only question? That is an easy answer. Those are three silly substitution names for the three silly females. The triplet sisters are really named Chastity, Hope, and Faith. I don't like the three sisters and I do not like their company, so I continue to insult their three individual buttholes, until they get the hint. But it's hard to see and smell and taste a human butthole. Do you have any more questions, Mrs. Ace Smith?"

She nodded with a smile. "You have addressed all of my inquiring questions but one."

He looked down at his shoes, returning back, frowning at Fawn. "What is your one inquiry, darling?"

"Do you truly love me?"

Ace leaned down and kissed her face for a long time.

P.S. Attila and Ace had switched ancient mansions, so Ace could forget all of the bad memories inside his old house and Attila could heal and perform the same mental cleaning. Gem lived with her granddaddy, until she would start college within two years.

THE END
