

# DREAMING OUT LOUD

Short Stories

By the sisters two

Matilda Joy

and

Raylene Starr

# .

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013 Matilda Joy and Raylene Starr

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# Table of Contents

Preface

MATILDA'S STORIES

The Clock

The Senator

Ian

Nubia

For Love's Sake

The Prize

Granny

RAYLENE'S STORIES

Victory On Noble Street

The NORAD Chronicles

Sing My Happy Feet

For "baby sis" who has always been faithful to her two big sisters

For the "music man" whose creations astound us

# Preface

My oldest sister used to tell me when we were growing up that she and I had a lot in common. I would just laugh at her because she was so studious, prim and proper. While I, on the other hand, didn't care one hank for studies and was as wild as legally allowable.

Although we attended different colleges during the late sixties, we did share some protest activities. She was all into organizing constructive student unions and I was one of the "burn, baby, burn" adherents.

After college I struck off to join the protesting masses, she went on to law school. Upon completing law school, she returned to our birth city, passed the bar and started a law practice. The need to eat drove me back into the mainstream and rat race employment.

Eventually she became a judge and I decided that I did want to be part of middle class America. So I "dropped out". I continued to travel, working jobs well beneath my educational level.

She achieved great things in her lifetime. I didn't achieve much except enjoying life. I had watch her health decline over the years as she drove herself relentlessly with late hours, taking brutal punishment from the press for some her decisions in the criminal court, and generally cramming in too much life.

In her early sixties, she suffered a double heart attack and a stroke as a result of bypass surgery. Shaken I came to visit her. Never had I seen such pain, hurt and determination burn in a person's eyes. As she was not an easy person to help, relatives were exhausted and worn. So, I figured it was my turn and returned home to care for her.

In her last days we had some very good moments and some not so good moments as is the case with siblings. It was then that I began to see our similarities. The most important was our love of words and writing. But it was not until after her death when I was given her personal writings that I was amazed to find that we shared an interest in the supernatural.

Yes, our writing is different. She wrote about life situations with a hint of the supernatural and very rarely do her stories end happily. My stories are usually full of fantasy and always end happily.

At the urging of family, I present our stories. Pen names are used not because of a desire for anonymity but to honor her love of make believe which I discovered so late in our lives.

# MATILDA'S STORIES

# THE CLOCK

"What do we now?" he asked.

"Just keep smiling," he answered. "Something good will come of all this."

The two young men struggled as they carried the heavy pieces of office equipment from the garage sale to their old junker of a pickup truck. They had no office, but they had a great idea that required of them to have an office. Seeing the garage sale sign was indeed fortuitous. They had brought all of this furniture for a mere song and a dance. It was a though some special power had led them to this part of the city and had provided the garage sale just for them. This was their final trip to their truck. They were indeed quite weary. So, they were surprised, yet pleased when a young woman came out of a house across from where they had parked their truck with a tray with two glasses and a pitcher of lemonade. They became comfortable under a shady sycamore as they allowed the sweet cold beverage to massage their parched dry throats.

'My, what wonderful furniture," she complimented as she walked around the junker. "You must have paid a fortune for all of this."

"Nope, not really," said the younger of the two men. "Got it all at a garage sale up the street."

"I saw you carrying it to your truck." she continued. "You seemed exhausted. Are you hungry?"

The older of the two stood up and gave her his glass. "Nope, and we do thank you for the lemonade, but we really must be going."

She would see him again.

A few months later, she noticed something familiar about a new office in downtown. It was the furniture. She had seen that furniture before. She entered the office. There was no secretary. Just him.

"Hi," she said. "Let's do lunch."

"Can't," he replied. "Too much work to do - don't have time to go to lunch."

"I can fix that," she said. She disappeared. In what seemed only a few minutes, she returned, and with considerable food.

They ate. Once done, she again admired the furniture, and as she did, her hands gently caressed each piece. The furniture seemed to come alive and to respond to her touch.

"Wonderful furniture," she said. "Simply wonderful."

"What is it that you wanted?" he asked.

"Nothing in particular." she replied. "I just saw the office and the furniture, and I had to stop in to tell it hello again."

"Are you sure you were not looking for me?" he asked.

"I'm sure,' she said as she smiled and waived goodbye.

She would see him again.

Years went by. Although she drove pass the office often, she never again stopped. Eventually, all the buildings on that block were razed. A magnificent professional building was erected with a variety of shops. She was an elderly woman by the time she felt compelled to peruse the place. She knew to go to the penthouse. Yes there was the name that was on the office that she had visited so many years before. She entered. She asked for him. She had to go through three secretaries and an administrative assistant, but she finally was ushered into a grand office. He remembered her. He took her to a small room off from the main office. There was the furniture - all of it. They sat down. The furniture caressed her. They sipped coffee and talked.

"I can understand your not getting rid of this furniture," she said. "It is still quite wonderful." They talked some more and then she left.

She would want to see him again.

When she arrived home, she realized that she had lost an earring. She remembered removing it as she looked at the pictures of his family in the picture album in the small room. She recalled that she had glanced up at the old clock and had remarked that it was still keeping good time, and that it was time for her to go.

The next day she returned to the penthouse. They told her that there was no one there by that name. They did not remember ever seeing her before. She asked to be taken to a particular office that she described for them. They shook their heads and gave each other "that" look, but they obliged her. As the she entered the grand office, he was not there. She went towards the small room. They told her that it was just a storage room, but she opened the door anyway. They were right. It was a storage room. The wonderful furniture was gone. As she closed the door, however, she saw the clock - that same clock, and she could have sworn that the clock smiled at her.

She never saw them again.

# THE SENATOR

"I've got a story to tell. Just listen. I won't take long. It all happened on Christmas Eve. It was snowing. You see, this man pulled his car over to the side of the road, reached across his passenger, opened the door and pushed her out. He started to drive away, but instead got out and walked over to the woman and shot her in the head two times. As he was preparing to get back into his car, he saw a youngster hurrying away. He caught up with him and grabbed him in the back. 'Mister,' the kid pleaded, 'I ain't seen nothing. Please don't hurt me. Let me go, please.' 'Do you know who I am?' the man asked. 'No, no sir I ain't ever seen you, and I still ain't ever seen you,' the kid replied without turning his head. The man released his hold on him and the youngster took off running. The man put the gun in his pocket, and as he returned to his car, another man was pulling his car over to where the woman lay. As he got out of his car, the man who had killed her joined him. 'Isn't this just awful,' the killer said. 'No one is safe any more.' The other man said, 'We need to find a telephone to call the police.' The killer said, 'I have a telephone and a CB in my car. I was just getting ready to call. Come with me. No need for you to stand out in the cold. There is nothing that can be done for her.' The two men went to the killer's car. He started talking on his CB, 'Breaker, breaker, one-nine. This is that One Dollar Bill. Do you copy? I have just come upon a terrible tragedy. I need assistance here.' A voice answered, 'Is this you, Senator?' 'Ten-four, none other but,' the killer replied. 'What 'cha need, sir?' 'Well, another gentleman and I have come upon what appears to be the dead body of a woman over here on County-Line Road.' 'Sir, what's your exact ten-forty?' 'County-Line and Stop Eleven,' he replied. 'Sir, we're on our way, but did you say that there is another man with you?' the voice asked. 'That's a big ten-four,' the killer replied. 'Well, sir, I ain't no politician, but I know that the last place you need to be photographed is with a dead body. Let me talk to the other man, and then you need to get the hell out of there.' The man and the voice talked. The man got out of the killer's car, went back to his car and waited for the police, as instructed. The killer drove away."

"What happened? Well, the Senator was arrested, tried before a jury, convicted and sent to prison. He lost everything - reputation, position, his wife, his home, money - everything. It wasn't the kid that convicted him, though. He went home and told his moma what he saw, and she told him to keep his mouth shut. 'T'aint none of your business,' she said. 'Don't you know that loose lips sink ships. He's be a powerful man, if he done killed a lady, he can have someone kill you. You ain't nothing but a kid with your whole life in front of you. You can't help that lady, but you can end your life. If you want to live to become a man, you best forget about this whole thing,'"

"Oh, they did learn about the kid. The police followed his footprints in the snow. They scared his moma so badly that she told them what her son had told her. She even consented for him to go to a line-up and attempt to pick out the killer. But the kid wasn't no fool. The police may have scared his moma, but his moma had already scared him more. When he got before the line up, he told them that it was either one of two of the men in the line-up. He couldn't be sure. They thanked him and took him home. Neither of the two men he picked out was the Senator and yes, the Senator was in the line-up."

"How did he get convicted?" Seems there was a trucker parked up the road who was asleep in his truck. He was awakened by the two gunshots. He sat up and observed everything else. He saw the killer manhandle the little boy. He got a good look at the little boy as he ran past his truck. He saw the other car drive up, and he saw the killer walk towards the man in the other car. He saw them both get into the killer's car. He even heard all of the conversation on his CB and realized that the killer was a state senator. He confirmed the identity when the killer drove hastily by him. He waited until the police came, and then he walked down to the scene and told the detective what he had observed. They went to the Senator's house. They found the gun in the glove compartment of his car, and arrested him. The trucker was from those parts and had seen the Senator's picture in the newspaper many times. He had no trouble picking him out of the line up. And he testified at the trial."

"The Senator is out of prison, though. There were no fingerprints on the gun, and the semen taken from the woman during the autopsy matched the Senator's twin brother's and not the Senator's. His trial attorney had not investigated this, and of course his brother didn't come forward. Seems their sister knew that the Senator's twin brother was having an extra martial affair that had turned real ugly. She also knew that their brother had borrowed the Senator's car and had returned it the day the Senator was arrested."

"I know. You are probably wondering why his sister didn't come forward prior to the trial and tell the detective what she knew. She died in a car accident less than a year after he was convicted. Her husband in going through her belongings found a diary that she had kept. According to the diary, the Senator, who was five years older than she, had raped her when she was twelve, and her parents didn't believe her. She hated him."

# IAN

He was there - Ian, and with another woman. They were on their way to a nightclub, but he said that he had to talk to me. I had invited them in. I was not alone. There was a guy at my place. He was student and a friend of a girlfriend of mine. She had sent him to return my book. He was supposed to be leaving, but he had remained. I don't remember why he was there, but he was. He was just sitting at the kitchen table, and he was still there when Ian came with another woman.

It was not a large apartment, my place. It was like most student apartments - an efficiency with a living room/bedroom. (The futon was the couch and the bed.) There was a small kitchen with a table and two chairs. There was a bathroom with a shower. Ian sat down beside me on the futon. He smelled nice. The woman sat in the other kitchen chair. Ian began to talk softly.

"I need a friend," he said.

"You have one in me," I replied.

"My wife and I have gotten a divorce," he said.

"I know," I responded.

"I'm lonely as hell," he whispered.

"I understand." We were both whispering.

"You don't understand. Nobody can." he said.

"Ian, I will be what you want - what you need. Whatever you need or want, you will find in me," I assured.

"I need you. I need everything that you are and have." he said.

"I am here, and I will be your friend. Everything that I have is yours," I offered.

"You don't understand," he said. "I don't need money. I got plenty money. I need your brainpower to help me think. I need to love your body to help me be strong. I need all of you."

"I do understand," I replied. "I want to help you. I can help you, and I will."

"I want you now," he moaned.

The woman had walked over to the futon. "Let's go, Ian," she demanded.

"Go wait for me in the car," he said.

"I ain't leaving without you," she replied.

"Here are the keys. Go wait for me in the car," he repeated.

She stood there, glaring at us. We ignored her. Ian reached over and put his hands on each side of my face and very tenderly kissed my lips. I kissed him back. His hands moved down my throat, over my shoulders. He pulled me to him. We hugged as our lips continued to embrace. His hands moved to my back and unzipped my blouse and then he unfastened my bra. Gently, he slipped my blouse and bra straps off my shoulders. He removed his tie and then his shirt. Our lips never stopped touching and communicating. I wanted this. He needed this. Our hearts were pounding, our bodies were trembling and gentle places were throbbing. I reached down and rubbed the front of his pants. He was hard. I unfastened his belt and unbuttoned his pants. Carefully, I moved the zipped down. He was huge. For the first time, his lips left mine. They traveled down my throat to my breasts. Ever so gently, his lips caressed one and then the other.

The woman asked the man at the table to take her home. She left the car keys on the table. They left. We did not notice. We did not care. Ian entered me. It has been too long for the both of us. For a while we did not move. We just melted into each other, enjoying the sheer ecstasy of oneness. He began to kiss me anew. I responded. We loved each - not mad, furious love; but sweet, sensual, satisfying love.

He said that he had to leave, but he would return the next morning. We would always be together. He got dressed. He kissed me. He left. I slept. I awaken while it was still dark. I had not bathed. His scent and his cum were still a part of me. I rubbed my breasts. They were still excited. I touched my vagina. It was still throbbing. It had been too long since my body had been so loved. It felt so delicious. Almost reluctantly, I bathed and douched.

I was preparing coffee when I realized that she was there - a stranger.

"The door was open," she said.

"What do you want?" I asked

"To use the bathroom," she replied.

"It's right there," I said as I pointed her to the small room. The guy who had been with my girlfriend the night before was standing in the doorway.

"My, that coffee smells good," he said "Mind if I have a cup?"

"No," I said. "Sit down. I'll pour you a cup. I drink mine black, but I do have sugar and cream if ...."

"No, this is fine," he said.

The stranger had come from the bathroom and was beginning to take clothes out of a suitcase that I had not noticed. She had taken clothes from two drawers from the small chest next to the futon and packed them into the other two drawers. She proceeded to put her clothes from her suitcase into the two drawers that she emptied.

"Wait a minute!" I objected. "What do you think you are doing?"

"I'm just going to stay a few days until I get my place," she replied.

"I don't think so," I said. "I don't even know you."

"What's to know," she said as she continued to place her clothes in the drawer. "I need a place to hang my hat, and this is as good as any."

My husband came through the door. I had not seen him in months.

"Hi Babe," he said. "I need to get some sweats from the bookstore, so I thought I would just visit with you until it opened, but I see you have company."

"Don't mind us," the stranger said. "Come on in. Have a seat."

My husband came in and sat down. "New roommate?" he asked of me.

"Yes, but I won't be here long," the stranger replied before I could say a word.

"You will not be here a minute longer," I said. "I don't know you. I never saw you before in life. How the devil you think you can just move in on me is beyond me. You need to repack your things and leave - now!"

"Just a minute, sis. Before you start getting on your high horses, maybe you had better rethink this and let her stay until she can get a place." It was the man that knew my girlfriend who had spoken. I realized that he must have brought this stranger to my place and that they were together. He had finished his coffee and now he was giving me orders. Incredible!

"I don't know you either." I said. "You can leave with her and now!"

"I ain't going nowhere," he resisted.

My husband stood up. "Babe," he said. "Am I hearing right? You don't know these two people, and one of them is moving in and the other one doesn't plan to leave? What's going on? Why did you let them in?"

"I didn't let them in. Ian must have left the door open last night," I said without thinking.

"Ian? What was Ian doing here?" My husband asked.

"I'll tell you," the man her offered.

"I didn't ask you," my husband said to the man.

I took my husband by the hand. We walked to the futon and sat down. As we passed by the stranger, I noticed that she had a mustache and shadow of a beard. I realized then that _she_ was a man.

I began to explain to my husband. I tried to choose my words carefully. "We agreed that our marriage was over, but that we would remain friends, right?"

"Yeah, but what does that have to do with Ian?"

"We also agreed that we could see other people, right?"

"Well..., right."

"Last night, Ian and I found each other," I said.

"What do you mean, 'you found each other'?" he asked

"They fucked each other!" the man volunteered.

"Hey! this ain't none of your business. You need to leave. The both of you need to get the hell out of here!" my husband responded angrily.

"We ain't going nowhere, and this here says you can't make us." The stranger was talking and pointing a handgun at us.

At that moment, Ian came through the door with a box of long stemmed roses under his arm and a box of chocolates in his hand. The stranger was so startled that as if by reflex, _she_ turned and shot him in the heart.

# NUBIA

She wiped away a tear as she watched Nubia being hooded at her law school commencement. Buddy would have been so proud. It had been fourteen years, yet it seemed like only yesterday. Her mind drifted back.

Buddy was her brother. He was a bachelor. He lived with her, her husband and Nubia, their daughter. He had never worked for more than a couple of weeks at a time so as to have money to buy his "smokes" and other personals. He had been a constant source of complaint for her husband who felt that he should have gotten himself a job and supported himself a long time ago. However, her husband had relented when she pointed out to him that since she, too, worked, it was good to have Buddy there when Nubia came home from school.

Nubia was eleven years old. She was a pretty child with bangs and pigtails. She was little, petite, and shy. Once she got to know you; however, she was quite the talker. She was very intelligent and could hold down her side of a conversation on most any subject. She was also very inquisitive. She asked lots of questions. She also read many books. She seldom watched television, but she searched the Internet constantly on her favorite birthday present, her personal computer. Her mom had brought it for it for her, and her dad got her the Internet for Christmas. She was a very happy progressive child, who made friends easily. She wanted to be a judge. Uncle Buddy was her best friend. He had assured her that with her "gift of gab" and her "smarts" that she would make an excellent judge.

She had gotten off the school bus and had practically run the two blocks to her house. Uncle Buddy was in the family game room with three of his friends playing cards and drinking beer. This was the usual routine. His friends would be sure to leave a half-hour before his sister came home. Usually they departed sooner once they had won all of his money. Today, however, he was winning and did not want to be distracted. Nubia dropped her books on the dining room table as he hurried to tell Uncle Buddy her exciting news.

"Uncle Buddy, guess what?" she began. "No, don't guess. I'll tell you. Today, I got ..."

"Beat it kid," her uncle growled. "Can't you see I'm occupied?"

"But, but, but, Uncle Buddy ... " Nubia stammered.

"But, but nothing," he said. "Go roam your web. Go fix yourself a sandwich. Just go."

Rejected and with her feelings hurt, Nubia walked slowly from the room. She walked outside and sat down on the front steps. Uncle Buddy did not see the neighbor from down the street approach Nubia. He did not see him sit next to her on the step. He did not see him put his arm around her as she told him of her wonderful news. He did not hear him suggest that they go get an ice cream sundae. Thus, when her parents came home and asked where she was, Buddy could not tell them anything.

They began searching for her. When darkness fell and they still had not found her, they called the police. The search continued. It was Buddy who found her. They had gone from house to house asking if anyone had seen her. He did not believe that particular neighbor down the street. His attitude was too indifferent. Yet comments were too personal.

"Yes, he had seen the little brat as she raced down the street from the bus earlier that day. But no, he had not seen her pretty little face since then."

Buddy pretended to leave by walking to the next house, but he circled back to that neighbor's house. All the lights seemed to be out except for an upstairs back room. Buddy tried the doors. They were all locked. He found a window that was unlocked, and carefully, quietly, he forced it open. Once in the house, he carefully looked around, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness. It appeared as though no one was there. Just as he turning to leave, he heard Nubia's voice. She was pleading with someone to leave her alone. Her pleas became hysterical as the man began to strike and subdue her. Buddy dashed up the stairs as quickly and as quietly as he could. As he entered the room, he saw the man on top of Nubia. As he reached to pull him away, the man reached for a handgun under the pillow. In the scuffle that ensued, Nubia was shot in the shoulder and Buddy was shot in the chest. Somehow, he managed to turn the gun on the man and fatally wound him. Nubia had fainted. He picked up her limp body and carried her home. His sister opened the door. As he placed Nubia in her father's arms, he said her name softly, "Nubia," and collapsed. He died before the ambulance reached the hospital.

# FOR LOVE'S SAKE
Chapter One

"I wish that I could leave all of my money and earthly goods to you dear," Darlene whispered. "You are so very good to me. I feel like you are my own precious child."

Aisha just smiled and continued to bathe her patient. "I am very serious you know." Darlene said, "I do have considerable wealth, and since I've been given such a short time to live, it would make my dying a lot easier for me if I knew that my wealth was being passed on to you, your husband and your unborn."

"That is so sweet of you to think of us, Darlene," Aisha responded. "You know that I do care for you. My sincerest prayer every night is that God will heal your body, lengthen you life and give you true happiness. It gives me joy just to care for you. I'm not concerned about your money. I'm concerned about you. We've got to get you together so that you can go on trips and revisit those places that you so often talk about."

"Not just for _me_ to go on trips. For _us_ to go to those places," Darlene corrected. "It would not be the same without you. We're close, are we not?"

"Yes," Aisha acknowledged. "It is true that I feel a closeness to you, too. In fact, I talk about you so much that David says he feels like you are almost a part of our family. And you know what? We want you to be our baby's godmother, and we want you to name our baby."

As Aisha began to towel off Darlene, she noticed that she was crying. "Darlene, did I say something wrong? What is it? Did I hurt your feelings?"

"Oh no, dear, au contraire. You are so very precious. Both David and you are special to me. And yes, I would love to name your baby and be its Godmother, too." Darlene said. "If only I could figure out a way to leave you my wealth." She pondered aloud. "You know, Attorney Jones said that if I left a will, my two good-for-nothing rock head sons would contest it and probably win. If I just deeded the properties to you and gave you the rest of my estate, they would say that I did so in contemplation of death. You would have to give it all back ... And to them. Ooh, ... There's just got to be a way."

"Why don't we pray on it," Aisha suggested.

"You pray," Darlene responded. "I've given up on prayer a long time ago ... But, if it works for you, go for it."

The next morning at breakfast, Aisha related Darlene's desire to David. She told him that she had discreetly inquired of Darlene's financial situation with the nursing service for whom she worked and had found out enough to know that Darlene was indeed quite wealthy.

"That's why she is able to stay in that big house and hire folks to clean and cook for her. That's how she has been able to guarantee that I assist her everyday," Aisha explained. "In fact, I was told that she is paying my fee just to assure that they send only me to assist her."

David was so engrossed in the sports pages of the morning paper that he was only half listening, and he did not respond. Aisha was not to be ignored. Moving closer to David and raising her voice, she continued:

"David, do you realize what it would mean to us to inherit all of her wealth? Why, you could quit your job and concentrate full time on your studies. I could quit work and be a mother to our child. We could live with her in her big house with servants. We could sail the seven seas. We could ..."

"Stop dreaming, Aisha," David interrupted. "You can't inherit a darn thing. You are not related to her, and you know what the attorney has already said. Besides, it seems to me that there is something unethical, almost morally unjust about what you are saying. Have you thought of what kind of costs we might have to pay if we took the rightful inheritance away from her sons? It just doesn't seem quite right to me for us to ..."

"Right? Are we talking right here? Like the opposite of wrong? Let me understand clearly. Her sons who never come to visit her, have a right? Her sons who never ever call her, have a right? Her sons who can't wait for her to drop dead, have a right? What about her right to be happy in her last months upon this earth? What about her right to make a decision about the wealth that she has accumulated over the years? And what about our right to live, not merely exist?"

"O.K., O.K.," David yielded. "So Darlene and us have rights! But that don't mean nothing. While her sons may not be deserving, the fact remains that they, not we, are her legal heirs."

"You could be," Aisha suggested.

"What do you mean?" David was suddenly curious.

"I have a plan," Aisha said. "It's a very good plan, and I know that it will work, if you will just cooperate."

"Me? Since when have I been in line for such favors," David responded, sarcastically.

"Just listen, and don't interrupt me. Hear me out," Aisha demanded. "My plan is really very simple - darling, yet do-able. Darlene has six months to live. I am seven months pregnant. If you divorce me and marry Darlene, before our child is a year old, we will be rich - filthy rich!"

"Are you out of your mind? Has the thought of her money wrecked your very conscience? What is wrong with you? What kind of a man do you think I am? Do you think for one minute that I would agree to divorce you and have our baby born a bastard? Do you think that I would even stoop to such a ..."

"Stop it, David!" Aisha snapped. "Get off your high horse, and think! Look! The divorce will not be final for at least 60 days. You can file for it now and have it not go final until for at least 60 days. You can file for it now and have it not go final until after our baby is born. If you marry her, nothing will change between us. Let me explain this to her. I know that she will be agreeable. We will move into her house. As her husband, she will sign over a power of attorney to you, and you will make all the financial decision about her money. When she dies, everything will yours - ours! And there will be nothing that no one can do about it! Don't you see? Can't you understand that this will work? We can do this!" Aisha was now pleading.

"So you are willing to just give me to another woman. Is that?"

"In a sense, yes, but then not really." Aisha answered softly.

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

David dropped his head into his hands and rubbed his face. "I don't know Aisha. That is a very wild scheme. I just don't know."

"Why don't we talk with Darlene about it, and see what she thinks. If she says, 'No,' it won't matter any way. But oh, if she says, 'Yes'."

Darlene was surprised when she wheeled her motorized wheelchair into the living room and saw Aisha and David. "Aisha," she began, "I didn't expect to see you until much later. And David, how nice it is to see you. But wait a minute. Why are you both here? ... And so early in the morning? ... What is it? ... Is something amiss?"

"No, nothing is wrong," Aisha assured her. I. we, well really me ... I've come up with this idea, this plan ... Well, you tell us what you think. I think it's a very simple solution to the desire that you have to leave us your wealth."

"Oh wonderful!" Darlene replied. "Let's hear it."

Not wanting to be interrupted, Aisha blurted quickly: "My plan calls for David to divorce me. File the paperwork immediately, and have it go final right after our baby is born so that our baby will not be born out of wedlock and will have David's last name. Then David will marry you, and we will all come to live with you. Please understand that we will not be a bother to you. We will continue to look after you, and you will have us as your very own special family. And when God takes you from us, as your husband, David will inherit everything. Well what do you think?"

"I think it's wonderful. David, have you filed for divorce yet? Do you have an attorney? Oh, let's not wait. Move in now? Can you? How soon can you move in? Oh, this is wonderful. This is just what I wanted. Thank you, Aisha, Oh, Thank you!"
Chapter Two

"I don't believe that we actually, really and truly, did this." David said, as he looked down on his baby girl asleep in her cradle. "I really don't believe it."

"What? That we produced this beautiful baby, or that we're divorced, and you have remarried, and now we are living on easy street? Replied Aisha who was sipping tea as she rocked slowly back and forth in the white rocker that matched all of the furniture in the baby's room.

"I guess all of it," answered David. "I am indeed a lucky man!"

"Luck didn't have anything to do with it," said Darlene who had come into the room in her wheelchair. "All of this was done for love's sake. I am so very happy, and I hope that the three of you will be able to capture my happiness and have abundance on your own. Aisha, under the bottom tray of my jewelry box, you know the one with eagle on top of it. Well, under the bottom tray, are funeral arrangements that I know you will assure are carried out. Yes, now I can go to my final rest now happy, oh so very happy."

"Wait a minute. I've told you over and over. No more of this final rest talk." David admonished. "We are going to take care of you. You are going to get better. We are going to see to it. Right, Aisha?"

"Yes, oh yes we are." Aisha agreed. "Darlene, David and I have been talking. We think that he should take you to the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota. They have the best specialists. The best of everything, and if anybody can help you, they can."

"Oh, I don't know," Darlene protested. "I have come to terms with my condition. I truly don't want to get my hopes up. It would be too terrible a let down for me if we took the trip and nothing positive resulted. I'm happy enough just being here with all of you."

"Darlene, you don't understand." David was not willing to be dissuaded. "You want us to be happy also, right?"

"Yes, of course, I do," Darlene, answered.

"Well, we can't possibly be happy unless we have done everything humanly and spiritually possible to restore your health. Going to the Mayo Clinic may not mean much to you. It means everything to us," said David.

"And we would not think of you going alone," Aisha offered. "David will go with you. He will also hire a private nurse to go and assist you. I would go, but I can't leave our baby."

"Well, let me think about it." Darlene said.

"All right," David agreed. "You have ten seconds to think. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, ..."

"All right, all right. Yes, I'll go, if it will make the two of you happy. I will go. And yes, David, I surely would appreciate your going me. I just cannot go alone."

"Then it's settled," said David. "I'll have everything planned by the end of the week.

"There is one other thing that must be settled," Aisha. "We must give our baby a name. Darlene, do you have a name yet?"

"Well, I was going to name the baby David, but it's a little girl. I don't want to name her, Dava, or Davida, and you already said that you did not want to name her Aisha. You two are the most important people in my life. You've given me the special privilege of naming our baby, but I just don't know what to name her." Darlene said, almost tearfully.

"What do you think, David?" Aisha asked.

"Well, I had been thinking all along that if the baby was a little girl, that I would want to call her 'Lena' after Darlene, but ..."

"Oh! That's perfect David!" Aisha interrupted, "Lena, yes, Lena! Don't you like that, Darlene? We should call our baby, Lena!"

"Oh my! How very precious and thoughtful. Oh my! Yes, let me hold her." Darlene cried. As they placed the baby in her arms, tears flowed down her face. She held the baby to her and repeated her name over and over. "Lena, Lena, Lena, Lena."
Chapter Three

It happened. David did not know how or why, but it happened. When he planned the trip, he thought that it would be best for Darlene to get acquainted with Minnesota before she signed into the Mayo Clinic. He could not get an answer as to how her long stay in the Clinic would be. So he wanted her to feel assured that she was in a good place and in capable hands. He selected a presidential suite on the penthouse floor of the hotel with separate bedrooms and baths. There was even a small room off from Darlene's master bedroom for the private nurse that they brought with them. They dined at the best restaurants. He took her to concerts and to the theater and to the ballet. They went to the art museum, to the Mall of Americas and to the zoo. Everywhere. They called Aisha every morning and gave her a report of the day before's activities. It really shouldn't have happened; yet, it did.

Darlene decided that she wanted them to go over into St. Paul and spend a weekend. The private nurse had family in Duluth. They flew her to spend the weekend with her family after David assured her that he would take good care of Darlene and assist her as needed. He rented a town car. Darlene insisted on sitting in the front seat next to him. She did not want to sit alone in the back seat. And further, she said that she did not want him to feel like a servant - a chauffeur. It didn't matter to David. He lifted her from her wheelchair and settled her into the front sear. He closed her door, put the wheelchair into the trunk. After he settled himself in the car, buckled himself in and started the engine, he placed a soft jazz selection into the disk player. Darlene fell asleep with her head on his shoulder before he had driven three blocks. When he got into St. Paul, he decided to drive around so as to learn the city. He cruised about for almost two hours, and through it all, Darlene slept. As he pulled in front of their hotel, Darlene woke up. She told him that she was hungry and suggested that he go check in and that she would wait for him in the car. When he returned, she told him that she wanted lobster. He told her that he had passed a Red Lobster's restaurant. They agreed upon Red Lobster. As he drove, he noticed that she had placed her hand on his left leg and was softly stroking it.

"Don't" he said.

"Don't what?" she asked innocently.

He reached down and moved her hand, but to no avail. She again placed her hand on his upper leg, but this time she snaked her fingers to the inside of his thigh and softly stroked his groin area.

"What is wrong with you? Why are you doing this to me?" David asked angrily.

"Doing what?" she inquired softly and before he could answer, she continued. "Since when is touching your husband a bad or wrong thing to do."

"Let's not play games, Darlene," David warned, "I may be your husband legally, but you know that I love Aisha and would not even think of breaking my commitment to her." They had arrived at Red Lobster. "Let's go have dinner."

During dinner Darlene continued to physically touch David in intimate ways. She scooted next to him in the circular booth. He slid away from her. She continued to scoot close to him, and he kept sliding until he was at the end of the booth. She placed her hand on top of his. He slid his hand from beneath hers. She began anew to stroke the inner side of his thigh. He resolved to just ignore her and concentrate on consuming his meal. She began to purr softly.

"David, I know that you and Aisha are not sexually intimate. I know that you have a need that is not being fulfilled. You are a man. I'm not only willing to meet that need, but I can teach you ways to pleasure Aisha that neither of you know about. It will make your lovemaking reach such a new height that you will become even more bonded and close." She paused and then asked, "With Aisha you have something very spiritual and special, right?"

David did not answer. He just glared at Darlene and slowly nodded affirmatively.

"Well," Darlene continued, "What you and I would do would be totally physical - Just carnal and fleshly - nothing spiritual. It would be like your taking a course from an expert on lovemaking. You owe it to yourself and to Aisha to at least try it, once."

"Eat your dinner, Darlene," David demanded. Yet, he was curious as to what having sex with her would be like. He stood up and moved to the other end of the circular booth. When Darlene started to scoot the other way towards him, he held up one hand and said, "Don't move. I want to look at you." She sat still. "Go ahead and eat," he urged. "If we are going to make passionate love, you will need all the energy and strength that you can muster."

Darlene began to ravish her food and to smile. David looked at her closely. She was really quite beautiful. He had never before taken the time to observe how very pretty she was. She had always been to him an invalid in a wheelchair - Aisha's patient. But now he recognized her as his wife. And he did need to be loved. It has been so long. Aisha did not believe in having sex once she knew that she was pregnant. And after the baby was born, she did not want to resume an intimacy with him until after her six-week check up. Masturbation had been a poor substitute for the intimacy that he desired. Darlene was finishing her meal. He asked her if she wanted desert, and she said that he would be her desert. He did not want to appear as though he could not wait or was over anxious. He ordered a sherbet. This time when Darlene reached across and placed her hand on his, he did not move his hand.

When their meal was over, as he assisted her into her wheelchair, she placed her arms around his neck and gently nibbled his ear. When he placed her into the car, she kissed him ever so softly on his cheek. By the time they reached the hotel, he was becoming aroused. He had completely justified to himself what he knew would happen that evening.

The suite in St. Paul was smaller than the one in Minneapolis. There was a living room area with a couch that let out to a bed. There was only one bedroom with a king-sized bed in it. There was but one bathroom. However, there was room with a jacuzzi. David wheeled Darlene into the bedroom and offered to assist her in getting settled in. He was shocked when she stood up and walked from the wheelchair. He did not understand.

"Wait a minute!" he protested. "I though you were an invalid. I thought that you were practically bedridden."

"No," she replied calmly. "My condition causes me to tire quickly. I have been advised to preserve my energy. That is why I have nurses to help me. People to clean my house and to cook for me. If I took my time, I could probably do all right without any of that. Wipe that worried look off your face. I will do just fine. Here, unzip my blouse."

Without a word, David unzipped her blouse, turned and went into the living room. As he sank into the couch, he just shook his head. He thought that he understood women, but he certainly could not figure Darlene. He heard the water running. She was taking a shower. He decided to try out the jacuzzi. He needed to relax and to think.

He filled the jacuzzi and redirected the jets. He lowered himself in the tub and settled back and closed his eyes. The water felt so good. He heard music and realized that Darlene must have turned on the stereo. He did not notice the lights dim, and he did not see her as she stepped into the tub. He jumped as he felt her place her body next to him.

"Oooh," she said, "This water is very warm - almost hot."

"I like it like this," he replied. "Just lay still. You will get used to it."

As they lay together, Darlene began to explore his body with her hands.

"You have such a strong, firm body," she declared. "And such a hairy, hairy chest."

David did not reply. H wanted only to enjoy the moment. This was too special. He did not want to rush through this experience. His need was so great, his mounting desire so strong.

"Come," said Darlene. "Let's go to bed. I've been in the water long enough."

As they stepped out of the jacuzzi, Darlene wrapped a towel sheet around herself, tucked it so as secure it and then placed a towel sheet around David's torso. They embraced. For the first time ever, he kissed her lips. It was a long, satisfying, consuming kiss. He reached down, picked her up and carried her to the bed. She instructed him to bring a small soft suitcase to her. When she opened it, he was surprised at the contents. There oils, perfumes, lotions and all sorts of gadgets; vibrators, handcuffs and the like. She told him to do exactly as she directed him and not to question anything, but to let her know in some way if he enjoyed any of what was happening. She took off her towel sheet and had him remove his. She ordered him to lie on his stomach next to her. She straddled his back and began to massage lotion into neck and shoulder area. It felt so good. She covered every inch of his body with lotion. When she urged him over onto his back and began to straddle his chest, he attempted to force her down so as to enter her. She physically objected and whispered to him softly.

"Not yet. Not yet."

She leaned over and reached into her bag and retrieved a sturdy piece of cord. She gave it to him and told him to tie knots in it. As he began the task, she proceeded to kiss his body, starting with his toes. She gently caressed each foot and succulently licked and kissed his ankles as though they were sweet honeycombs. His desire mounted as her lips neared his groin. He became turgid, and his body began to shake. He began to moan softly,

"Now, please let it be now. I need you now."

Ever so slowly and purposely, yet ever so gently, she raised her body and then lowered herself onto him. He gasped as he entered her. She tantalized and teased him, removing herself from him and from the bed at one point, forcing him to wait and for his desire to decline. She introduced him to many new positions and she did things that most would think "kinky". Yet, he enjoyed it all. When she finally relented and permitted him to mount her, she took her hands and fondled his buttocks. He felt her forcing something into his anus, it as the cord that he had tied into knots. She had greased it with vaseline. He did not understand nor did he care why she forcing it into his butt. He was enjoying her body too much to care about anything else. Just as he thought he could not stand any more, nor could he hold back his climax, she pulled the cord, and he came like never before. It was an ecstasy like he had never, ever experienced. It was wondrous joy! Depleted, he collapsed on top of her. He started to move, and she whispered,

"Stay with me. I am still coming," She began to scream and tug into his skin with his fingers. He could feel her crescendo and her body shake. He stayed with her, and then he fell asleep.

When he wakened, he was stiff in the same position - on top of and in her body. And yes, he was again turgid. She was softly kissing his face - his eyes, his nose, his cheeks, his lips. They made love again. This time, it was slow and easy. It was so good. He again fell asleep, and when he awoke this time, she was on knees beside the bed with two containers of water and a bar of soap. She proceeded to gently wash and rinse his body. She again massaged with lotion and oils. She introduced him oral sex. They made love everywhere - in the jacuzzi, on the living room sofa and in the bed. Both suffered from sexual neglect. She was starved and his floodgates finally had been opened. Their needs seemed insatiable.

Along the way back to Minneapolis, David told Darlene how he was going to help her to become stronger - that she would do exercised with him and that they would delay the Mayo Clinic examination so as to give themselves an opportunity to experience again and again the joy of their physical sexual relationship. They sent the private nurse home and told Aisha that they were going to utilize the services of local practitioners. Aisha wanted to know when they would be coming home. David suggested that Aisha go visit her parents in Atlanta. They had not yet seen Lena. He told her that she should stay for at least a month, and that when she returned; he and Darlene should be back. Aisha agreed.
Chapter Four

David began to feel guilty about his relationship with Darlene. He had to honestly admit that it was more than their lovemaking. How he felt when he was with her was more satisfying than any emotion that he had ever experienced with Aisha. Yet, he still loved Aisha, deeply.

They had been in Minneapolis for almost two months when Darlene finally admitted herself into the Mayo Clinic. She told David that she did not want him to accompany her. He made her promise that she would not lie to him and that she would tell him everything. This promise was made during her initial pre-entry interview with the admitting physician. He, too, had assured David that as her husband, he would be totally informed as to his wife's condition. Darlene and David refrained from lovemaking for two days prior to her admission because they wanted her to be strong. When David took her to the Clinic, she walked through the doors without the aid of a cane, a wheelchair, or any person. She turned and blew him a kiss. "God," he thought, "She is so incredibly beautiful. What a shame that she is dying if only she could be healed. If only God would lengthen her life. Oh, God, if only you could grant me this one thing, If only you could heal her body or make it so that she could just live a little while longer. Oh, God, she is such a good and sharing, caring person. I know that I have not right to be asking, but I am asking ...," He stopped. He realized that he was praying for a miracle. A miracle that he did not deserve. But he also knew that his prayer was not just selfish one. He truly wanted Darlene to live - not just for him, but also for her. He returned to the hotel and called Aisha. The maid who answered the phone told him that she was still in Atlanta with her parents. He started to call Atlanta but changed his mind.

Aisha had remained in Atlanta because after being home for a while, her parents noticed that she seemed very lethargic and said. They kept asking her questions. Finally, she relented and told them that David and Darlene were in Minnesota having Darlene checked out at the Mayo Clinic. When she told them how long they had been gone, her father became suspicious and hired a private investigator to 'look into the matter.' The private investigator returned with a report and more information than they had any reason to suspect existed.

It seemed that Darlene grew up in an orphanage. When she became eighteen, she left and worked menial jobs until she went to Chicago where she eventually became an expensive call girl. Not long thereafter, she married a very wealthy retired executive. When he died, she took her inheritance and opened an exclusive brothel. A few years later, she married again, sold the brothel and moved with her husband to his home in New York. The gentleman she married was widower with two sons, both of whom were being educated in boarding schools. Although she adopted them legally, in actuality, she gave very little of herself or of her time to them. This was not of her choosing. She wanted to be a mother to and for them. Their father was not only rich, but spoiled and selfish as well. He wanted Arlene only to himself and to share her with no one else. Not even and especially did he want her to divide any of their time or attention to his sons. She wrote letters to their sons until her husband discovered that she was doing so. He put a top to it, saying that she would make them 'weak.' He successfully manufactured a very real distance between the boys and Darlene. Out of her presence, he told them where he had 'found her.' He told them what she had been, what he used her for and that he only married her for the sake of his business reputation. The boys had from birth grown up with a nanny and then without parents except for holidays and trips abroad during the summers. The holidays and trips together only happened because of Darlene's insistence, a fact the boys never knew. Darlene had wanted to have a baby, but her husband refused. "Children only get in the way," he said. While Darlene received the best of everything money could buy, he denied her what she desire most - someone or some ones to truly love to truly love her return. She began to feel with her second husband exactly what she was - an expensive ornament. He died of a massive heart attack ten years into their marriage. Again Darlene reaped a sizeable inheritance. Their sons came to their father's funeral. Darlene attempted to re-enter her sons lives, but they had never bonded with her, looked down on her, and they very crudely let her know that they wanted nothing to do with her.

The private investigator told Aisha and her parents that the sons had both married and lived in upstate New York. Both were very successful. One was a medical doctor and the other was a university professor and lecturer. He also shared with Aisha and her parents that Darlene had moved to the Midwest when she learned that she was ill. He had been unable to determine the exact nature of her illness Aisha shared what she had come to know of Darlene's illness while serving as her private nurse. Then the private investigator dropped a bombshell on Aisha. He did not prepare her nor did he give her any forewarning. In the same unfeeling, indifferent, fact-relating manner that he had told them about Darlene's past, he produced a folder and handed it to Aisha. Inside it were pictures of Darlene and David in Minnesota. There were several very intimate, loving poses of them embracing and kissing, laughing and enjoying each other. No question but that the pictures were of lovers. Aisha dropped the pictures and ran from the room. Her parents picked them up and looked at each one very carefully. He father spoke first,

"Why didn't you tell me of this before confronting my daughter in such an insensitive way?" he demanded in a thundering voice.

"Look," the private eye said, "I did what you paid me to do, and I did my job well. You did not tell me to brief you or talk to you alone. You just told me to bring all the information to the house and to leave my report with your wife or your daughter, if you were not home. Now how was I supposed to know that any of this would be upsetting to your daughter? She and David are divorced, you know. He is married to Darlene. So none of the pictures were a surprise to me and should not be a surprise to Aisha. I only took the pictures, to complete Darlene's story and to show that finally she has a measure of true happiness in her life. I did not mean to upset your daughter. I am sorry if I did. I just hope that you are satisfied that I earned what your paid me - that I did do a good job for you."

"You did your very best, and you brought us more information than we could have ever found out on our own," Aisha's mother commented. "But, I think that we have heard enough and that you ought to be going. I will get your coat."

As she left the room, the private detective started to follow her. Aisha's father stopped him.

"Just a minute," he said. "There is a balance due. I owe no man anything. Here is your check." As he handed the check to the private investigator, he said, "You've done your job well. We are completely satisfied. We have some counseling and healing to do, and that we will. Thank you. They shook hands, and the private investigator left. They went to Aisha's bedroom door. They knocked on the door. She did not answer. They tried to open the door. It was locked.

"Aisha," her father demanded. "You either open this door now, or I will get the key and unlock it. You must talk with us. We shall talk with you either now or in a minute. Open this door.

Aisha opened the door, and her parent sat down on the bed, one on each side of her. They asked her if in fact David had divorced her and had married Darlene. She told them the whole truth, including the fact that it had been her idea. "However," she sobbed, "they were only to be husband and wife in legal terms only. David was still to be my husband in our hearts and in the sight of God. I don't understand what happened to him ... or to Darlene. She looks so healthy and so young. She doesn't even look the same. She is no longer in a wheelchair. I just don't understand."

Her parent gave each other a knowing look over Aisha's bowed head and continued to console her.

If you want your husband back, you are going to have to confront him and take him back," her mother said. "Have him divorce Darlene and remarry you."

"But what about the money?" Aisha's father asked. "If Darlene only has a short time to live, why not wait and let the plan go to its completion?"

"Forget the money. That's the whole problem now," her mother concluded. "Marriage is supposed to be for love's sake not for money's sake. Furthermore, what's to assure that after Darlene dies, and David inherits her estate, that he will remarry Aisha"?

"Oh, he will! I know that he will!" Aisha answered. "David loves me. I know that he does. I don't care what's in those pictures. I know that David loves me."

"Then have him prove it to you," her mother counseled, "Tell him to choose now, either you or the money. Baby, if he chooses the money, he never loved you anyhow, and if he chooses you, he does love you, and your love will be stronger than ever."

"I don't know," her father said. "You are putting David between a rock and a hard place."

"No, please stop!" Aisha said. "All of this was my idea. It is for me to resolve, and I will. I am going home, and I am going to talk with David and with Darlene. I will be all right. I love you two so much. Don't you worry, I will be all right."

"Fine, if that is what you think is best, dear. Why don't you leave Lena here with us." her mother suggested, "until you and David have had a chance to work this all out. We will take good care of her."

'Well, I don't know. She is so little and so young that..."

"That we will be extra, specially careful with her," her father assured. "That's settled. You go get your things together and give your mother any instructions about the baby. I will see how soon we can get a flight, and than I will take you to the airport."
Chapter Five

Darlene submitted to every examination and to every test. She answered as truthfully as she could each and every question. She wondered why they were interested in marital sexual relationship, but she answered the questions honestly. She loved her husband and yes they engaged in ferocious, torrid lovemaking. Day after day and into another week, test after test, blood drawn every six hours for two days; measuring and testing of urine, drinking opaque solutions, ultra-sounds of legs, of the heart, cat-scans, EKG's, over and over again until finally ... they were finished.

When the three doctors came into her room, Darlene's heart sank. She just knew that it was bad news. She sat up in her bed and braced herself.

"Tell me," she said, "I can take it. Don't spare me. Just tell me like it is."

The doctors looked at each other and smiled. Then one of them spoke.

"Darlene," he said softly,. You are a puzzle to us. We do not understand you. We have the benefit of all your prior records and tests. We have exhausted every test and method know to man in order to understand your particular phenomenon."

"Yes, so? So what are you saying?" Darlene was nervous and impatient.

"It would appear that you are in remission. We do not understand how you have become so strong and able-bodied. Whatever you are doing, you should continue to do. We are changing your medication. You will only be taking two prescriptive medicines. Your prognosis is excellent. Unless something unexpected or out of our knowledge occurs, you can count on being around for another ten or more years. We know that you were told six months, but that was nine months ago. You basically are enjoying good health. We are discharging you today. We want you to go and enjoy life to the fullest. Do you have any questions?"

"Yes. Yes," Darlene cried excitedly, "Have you called David, my husband? Have you called my husband? Is he on the way? Did you tell him? Does he know?"

"Yes, we have called him. Yes, he is on the way. No, we have not told him. We rather thought that you would want to select the time and place to share your good news. However, if you would prefer, we can tell him just as soon as he arrives."

"Oh, no, please don't tell him. Please let me share this wonderful news,"

When David arrived, Darlene could not conceal her happiness. He thought that she was happy to be going home and that she was happy to see him. She hugged and kissed everyone on her way out of the hospital. When they reached the awaiting cab, and David opened the door for her, she reached up, put a hand on each side of his face and kissed him long and hard. When they were finally seated in the back of the cab, she snuggled against him and clasped her hand to his. She told him that she wanted to go straight to St. Paul and to the Red Lobster there. Once there, he told the driver to wait for them because Darlene had said that she was not hungry. She just wanted a brief celebration and this was a place with happy memories for her. This was the place where they first acknowledged that they were husband and wife, in fact. So it was here that she wanted to return to celebrate her news with a toast. As they raised their glasses filled with champagne, she said:

"To you, David, a kind, wonderful, gentle man who has given me more happiness in these past two months than I known in a lifetime, and to me, whom the doctors have given a new ten-year lease on life."

David was so startled that he dropped his glass of champagne. As the water hastened to clean up the spill and the broken glass, David stammered.

"Are ... are you saying that the doctors told you that you will probably live for ten years?"

Ten and maybe even more, isn't it wonderful? Aren't you happy? Darlene was exuberant.

"Yeah, wonderful," said a troubled and somewhat puzzled David. "I am deliriously happy. Can't you tell?"
Chapter Six

Darlene was ready to return home and to begin to make plans to travel abroad. She intended to make the best of her new lease on life. David was in no hurry to get home. He was torn. He loved Aisha, but he had to admit that he loved Darlene, too.

Aisha had returned from Atlanta. She was there when the taxi drove up. She observed as David helped Darlene from the cab. She noticed that Darlene needed only David's arm to lean on. She noticed, too, that Darlene had a new look. Her hair was styled differently, and she looked radiant, healthy ... and so young. She looked like a totally different person from the Darlene who had wheeled herself out less than three months before. Aisha went to the door to greet them. She was warm and friendly, yet reserved towards David. Darlene did not notice the difference. She was so excited in telling Aisha her good news that she did not see the pained expression on both Aisha and David's faces. He hurried off to her suite of rooms to begin her world travel plans. A heavy silence fell between David and Aisha.

"David," Aisha finally began. "We need to talk and talk seriously."

"I know," David said. "But not now."

"Why not now? And if not now, when?" Aisha was impatient.

"I don't know, but just not now."

Darlene returned to the room. "Aisha, where is Lena? " I went to her room. She is not there. Where is our baby?"

"She is my baby, and I left her with my parents in Atlanta." Aisha began to explain. "I really feel that David and I need some time alone together and that it will be good for my parents to have Lena for a little while."

"Well, how long is a little while?" Darlene inquired softly, "and I really thought that we had all agreed that Lena belonged to all of us. That she is my baby, too. We will soon be going around the world, and I want to take Lena with us, and you, too, of course."

"I'm not going around the world. Lena is not going around the world. David is not going around the world. If you want to go around the world, go ahead. No on will try to stop you. At least not this one."

"Talk to her David," Darlene said as she walked out of the room. "Talk some sense into her head. She is hallucinating."

"Get your coat, Aisha," David said. "We are going for a walk - for a long walk."

"I wouldn't walk across the street with you." Aisha responded. "If you have something to say, say it because I have information for you that will blow your mind."

"What is your beef? What are you demanding of me? I have done everything that everyone has asked of me, and now I am still catching hell from you. What more do want of me? I am tired. Let's go for a walk. Let air whatever it is you have on your mind and be done with it." David replied.

"Be done with it! What do you mean, 'Be done with it.' I can't continue this way. Aisha was crying. "I want you back. I want my husband back!"

"That can't happen, not yet. In case you don't remember. I am married to Darlene. She is my wife, and will be until death do us part, remember?"

"Yes, but that was when she only had six months to live, not ten years."

"What do you expect me to do?" David inquired angrily.

"Divorce her and remarry me." Aisha replied.

"Do what?" David screamed. "Go get your coat. Now!"

When she returned dressed in her coat, David grabbed Aisha by the arm and proceeded to slam the door behind them. As they walked hurriedly away, Aisha kept repeating that she loved him and wanted him back as her husband.

"But what about the money?" David asked.

"What about the money - It ain't worth arguing over! Forget the money!" Aisha began to cry again. "I just want you back!"

"Aisha, I ain't your puppet. You can pull strings and get me to react a certain way. This was your idea, your brainstorm. I must have been crazy to have gone along with it, but I did. Now, you want to change everything because you 'want me back'. I ain't gone nowhere. I am still here, trying to please you, trying to do what you have asked me to do. We will follow this through even if it means that Darlene lives for twenty years!"

"That's not fair. You have Darlene. I am lonely. I have no one. I cannot live with you for not even another day, not to mention twenty years. I love and need to be with you, to be loved by you. Don't you understand I need you?"

"Yeah, I understand," David, replied. "Only too well do I understand. You are now thinking only of Aisha, only of your needs, only of your wants. You want me back not because of our relationship, not because Darlene is better and can get along with out us, not even so that Lena will be with both her parents. No, selfish little Aisha wants me because you are lonely, because now you want to be loved. Well, what about me, Aisha? What about me? For over a year, you did not want me to be intimate with you. Even though your doctor told you it was all right for us to have a gentle sexual relationship, you would not permit it. You told me to 'use my rosy palm.' You laughed and thought the whole matter was cute. Well, it wasn't and isn't, and I am not going to divorce Darlene. Not now, not ever!"

"Then what about us? Aisha asked. "Where does that leave me and Lena?"

The same place you were and will always be. With me and with Darlene." David responded. "Nothing has changed but your mind."

"David, you know that that is not true. You are intimate with Darlene and I dare you to refute it. You are having an affair with her. I know it!" Aisha charged.

"I am not have an affair," David explained. "She is my wife, and yes, we are sexually intimate. I did not mean for it to happen, but it did. I have never lied to you, Aisha, and I do not intend to start now."

"Then were does that really leave me?" Aisha sobbed. "You love her, don't you? I know that you love her. You do, don't you?"

"Yes," David admitted. "I do love her, but I love you too, in a deeper, spiritual way. Try to understand. I want to do right by you and by Darlene. Aisha, you put me in this triangle. Now I am just trying to be what I ought to be to you and what I need to be to Darlene. She has grown well and strong with my prayers and yours, with my help and yours. But I know that you need me. Look, why don't we go away for awhile, just you and me. Darlene will understand. I know that she will. She loves all of us. Come on. Let's go tell her that we need a vacation."

"I don't know David," Aisha said. "I just don't know."

"What's to know?" he said. Grabbing Aisha's hand, he started to run.

When they left the house, Darlene hearing the door slam, had gone to the window and saw them leave. She was standing there when they returned. She saw them running hand in hand, and knew what she must and would do. They burst through the door out of breath.

"Darlene," David said exasperated. "Go ahead with your plans for our world tour, but Aisha and I need to go somewhere alone for about a month. When we return, we will go get Lena, and we all will go around the world together. What do you think?"

"Aisha," Darlene asked. "Is this what you want?"

"Oh, yes, Darlene," Aisha confirmed. "I know that you love David, but I love and need him, too. Do you understand?"

"Yes, or course, I understand," Darlene answered. "But what you do not quite understand is how much I love you and Lena as well as David and how very much the three of you mean to me. Get your things together now. David call and make the arrangement. Go to a warm, sunny place and enjoy yourselves. Don't worry about me. I am alright."
Chapter Seven

Aisha and David decided to go to the Caribbean, to La Romana in the Dominican Republic. They called Darlene the evening that they arrived at Casa de Campo. She made them promise that they would not call her nor even mention her again until they returned home. They rode their red golf cart to the beach everyday. They dined out each evening, and they made wondrous love all night. Too soon it was time to return home. Aisha many times started to tell David what she learned about Darlene, but she remembered her promise to Darlene. She also did not want to spoil their moments together.

Aisha and David flew from La Romana to San Juan and from San Juan to Miami. From Miami they flew to Atlanta to pick up Lena. Aisha's parents were cordial but a little less than friendly towards David. They spent one night. They had intended to stay a week, but when they could not reach anyone at home, they decided to take the next flight. When they arrived home, the house seemed empty. David was carrying Lena. He called out for Darlene, She did not answer. It appeared that no one was there. David put Lena in her bed and began to look for a note. It was Aisha who found Darlene. She was lying beside her bed in her nightgown. Aisha knew that she was dead and had been for a while as her body had begun to decompose.

Hers was simple funeral done exactly as she had written in her arrangements over a year ago. They put a notice of her passing in the New York Times and extended the day of her funeral so that her sons could come if they so desired. They may not have seen the notice. They did not attend the funeral nor send flowers. They did not call. At her funeral, Aisha read the letter from Darlene that they found with arrangements. In part it read:

"For the sake of love, I brought you to live with me, Aisha, Lena, and David. For the sake of love, you have loved me more than any other. Even though I know that I am dying, I will leave here happy knowing that the three of you will be able to have whatever you desire, for and because of, the sake of love."

No, she did not commit suicide. She just died. Her heart stopped. David blamed himself. He felt that he had been the reason that she had gone into remission. He felt that if he and Aisha had not gone to the Island but had taken the world tour with her, when she asked, that she would still have been with them. He felt that without him in her life, Darlene simply gave up.

When he received her estate, he was still devastated. He would not allow himself to be consoled. Aisha wanted him to remarry her. He refused. He did not want to be with anyone. He bought himself a yacht, hired a crew and set sail. None of them were ever seen again. No, he never returned. After being gone for seven years, the probate court declared him dead and Lena the sole heir of his estate. Since she was a minor, the court made her grandparents her guardians. It had been five years since her mother had taken her life. For love's sake, whom do we pity?

# THE PRIZE

It was an onyx ring with a cat's eye in it that was worth two million dollars. That was what Jack was searching for. His sixth wife had left it for him, but he would have to search to find it. He had put away all six of his wives. He personally had not murdered any of them, but he had found ways and people to help him dispose of them. He had become a rather rich man behind this schemery because the majority of his wives had been heavily insured. Yes, there had been investigations by the insurance companies, but to no avail. Jack had been very careful.

Jack now lived in London. This was not just his choice of residences. This was where the clues for finding the onyx ring had led him. He would need the help of a lady the clues had said. He had come upon five ladies, all widows that matched perfectly the description of "the lady" in the clues. As he began to wine and dine to perfection each lady, his greediness to secure his prize caused him to become impatient. And little by little, each lady became uncomfortable and also suspicious. One of the ladies, Eve, was of herself of considerable means. At first she was flattered that Jack lavished such attention upon her. Gradually, however, his questions and adventures began to irritate her. You see, that the clues also directed Jack to take the right lady certain places, and in those places that the lady would be able to recognize certain objects that would help Jack locate the prize. Most of the places were dark and dank—some of them most would consider to be "holes." Eve was never comfortable being taken to any of those places. She eventually hired a private investigator to follow "her Jack." It was he who discovered for Eve that Jack was enjoying the company of four other lades and taking them to those same places.

Eve arranged a meeting with the four other ladies, and they discussed Jack. One of them was the "the lady," but before "Eve's meeting," she had no knowledge that she was. During the meeting, many things were said that made her privately ponder. For example, she had known Jack's sixth wife. They had not been close, personal friends, but they had run with the same crowd and had enjoyed similar ventures. She recalled that during a game of bridge on a yacht, Jack's sixth had shared her intrigue with mysteries and had mentioned that she was planning a thriller. She discussed in considerable and almost grotesque detail her adventure. She had become very animated in so telling. "The lady" was quite frankly turned off and did not pay close attention to what the sixth was saying. She rather had concentrated on her hand. She and her partner won the game as she recalled. At Eve's meeting, all of these details began to manifest themselves with remarkable clarity.

"The lady" returned home more than just a little concerned. She realized that there had to be a considerable prize involved; but more, she understood that there probably would be some danger in obtaining it. She also knew that Jack would have no intention of sharing it. While "the lady" was no pauper, the thought of acquiring more earthly goods did interest her. "The lady" was not a selfish soul. She called Eve and suggested that Eve bring the four ladies back together again. In the interim, she continued to go out with Jack, but with renewed interest. In recalling the story of the sixth wife, she recognized the clues that were in two of the dark and dank places where they had been. She was careful, however, to keep them to herself. At Eve's second meeting, "the lady" shared with the other four what she believed Jack was pursuing. They all agreed to assist her, and they laid out a plan.

As matters progressed past that evening, "the lady" began to follow the plan. She let Jack know of the clues without appearing knowledgeable of his sixth wife or of her speculation as to his pursuit. Jack became more attentive and more assertive. He wanted to see "the lady" every day. She refused. She limited his visits and their escapades to three times a week. He stopped seeing the other four women since now he knew he had found "the lady." The other four continued to communicated with the "the lady." They also continued to call Jack and to question him as to why their relationships had fallen apart. He gave lame excuses to each of them. As the clues began to be gathered causing the puzzle to fall into place, the venture became more dangerous. A clue gave them the name of a danky pub located in one of the "holes." Another clue provided the name of a roust-about who frequented that pub. This old nave possessed of a certain bag of pence and tokens, one of which was needed to open a locker wherein would lay still another clue. The sixth wife has given the old gentleman the bag that at the time had also contained many pounds. "The lady" and Jack saw him enter a bar, and they followed him. As Jack sat at a distance, "the lady" pursued the old fellow. She encouraged him to drink one ale after another while she sipped her tea, and when he was finally smashed, she assisted him out into the fresh air. As they stumbled down an alley, a shifty one, whole Jack had prepaid, crept up behind them and hit the "old gent" in the back of the head, rolled him and gave the bag to the lady. Unsettled by this unexpected violence, "the lady" hurried off to rejoin Jack. Upon her departure, the shifty one proceeded to place the "old gent's" quite-dead body in a nearby dumpster.

The gathering continued. "The lady" at one point told Jack that she wanted to know the meaning of all the clues that they were collecting. What was it he was looking for? When Jack would not confined in her, she refused to see him again until he agreed. She convinced him to tell her the remainder of the places and agreed that they would go each day to see if she could help him find the clues. She still did not tell him all that she knew. She contacted Eve and had her call still yet another meeting. When she told the other four ladies of what the prize consisted, they wanted to hasten the day of its discovery. She also told them of the increasing danger and violence. They listened. They empathized. They helped her to think. They altered their plan. The accelerated their plan. They came to realize that the prized would be found on a ship - not a yacht, but a garbage troller. Two of the ladies took the assignment to locate all such ships that sailed out of London and to have each scrutinized. Eve agreed to pay the cost involved in reaching the prize. She was very thorough. She even hired bodyguards who at a distance protected "the lady."

The plan was a good one, but as in all matters human, the element of fatality emerged. One evening as Jack and "the lady" were dining, one of the four ladies entered the pub with a gentleman friend. As they passed Jack's table, she spoke to Jack and to "the lady" - by name. She winked as she spoke to "the lady." Jack did not miss it. He demanded to know of "the lady" how she knew the woman. "The lady" said that she did not know her. Jack wanted to know how the woman knew "the lady's" name. "The lady" insisted that she did not know - that perhaps she had seen her on some society page. Jack would have note of it. He was beyond "silly" answers, and he would not be pacified. He threw down a tip for their meal, grabbed "the lady" by the arm, not minding that he was creating a scene and left. As he forced "the lady" into the waiting car, he punched her in the face. As she fell back against the seat, the bodyguards immediately lifted him out of the car. He thought they were bounces from the pub and offered to give them money. They were about to impose serious bodily injury upon him, but "the lady" had partially rolled down the window and gave them a signal to let him go. They took Jack's money, smoothed out the lapels of his coat, and as they turned to go, one of them hit him flush in the face. "As a reminder," he said. "That you are to keep your hands off this beautiful lady." Jack reconciled himself to never strike "the lady" again, but his suspicions about her did not diminish in their relationship. No longer lovers, they now became comrades seeking a fortune.

Finally their escapades led them to a ship - garbage troller. Jack was angered when he realized that all five of the ladies were there. He felt totally betrayed but not outwitted because he had brought hired hands to take care of "the lady" once the prize had been obtained. They could take care of five as well as the one. But the ladies had an advantage. They knew the run of the ship - every nook and cranny - they knew it all. And, they too had hired hands whose job was to protect each of them and to eventually eliminate Jack. The ladies had been smarter than Jack. Their hired hands had become the shipmates who operated, cleaned and maintained the ship. They belonged aboard. When Jack's hired hands began to steal aboard the ship, a couple of them were caught and thrown overboard. For Eve, this venture was far too dangerous. She found a room in the belly of the ship and decided to remain there until everything was over.

The other four "played" with Jack. They taunted him. They teased him. They even "dared" him. "The lady" and Jack found a clue in the boiler room, but not without cost. One of the ladies and two of Jack's thugs were eliminated. A chase began. "The lady" ran with the other two ladies. They opened a vat and climbed down dark stairs that led to a room with many doors. They knew which door to exit. Jack didn't. He had seen them as they closed the vat behind them, but by the time he reached the vat and climbed down the dark stairs, they had disappeared behind a door. He did not know which one, and all of the doors were locked. He climbed back up the stairs that had led him down into the room. But when he reached the top, someone had locked the vat from the outside. He was trapped. "The lady" and one of the two ladies had combed the stairs on the other side of the door and were back on deck. They had closed the vat on the last lady coming up the stairs, thus locking her in the stairwell and giving her the choice of remaining there or going back into the room with Jack. She chose the latter. She had been faithful, loyal and dependable. Now they had deserted her. Worst, they had placed her very life in abject peril. She had been betrayed. For all that she had done - for all that she thought she meant to them, this was her reward. She shared with Jack the remainder of their plan. She said how hopeless it all was because their men were manning the ship. Jack grinned sadistically because he had not shared the last clue with "the lady." He told the woman not to worry. He kissed away her fears and comforted her. He told her that because she had shared with him the remainder of their plan, he forgave her involvement. They embraced and made love. He whispered to her that they had won! And, then, he strangled her.

"The lady" and the other woman continued to follow the clues. They went to another part of the ship as directed. They had to climb upstairs and squeeze their bodies through a porthole. "The lady" had broad shoulders and thought that she was not going to make it. She felt the vibration of steps on the ladder below her, and she heard angry voices. With one last considerable effort she forced her way through and shut the cover and locked it just as the man below reached forth his hand. The force of shutting the heavy, iron cover severed his fingers from his hand.

They reached their final destination. It was the disposal room. They saw a crane dump garbage into a grinding machine, which reduced the garbage into fine particles before it flowed into the sea. The watched incredulously as they saw the head of the woman whom they had last seen in the boiler room slip into the machine and the bodies of men and many heads slide by with garbage to be pulverized. They were relieved and amazed as they saw the bodies and heads of Jack and the other woman slide by with garbage to be chewed. They began to check the place in the room where the prize was to have been found. It was not there. There was only a note in a language that neither could translate. They put the note back and began to cry and to console each other.

They heard a noise and looked around. Eve was there. In her hand outstretched to them was the prize - a beautiful onyx ring with a cat's eye in the design. She had beaten them to it. As they both lunged forward to take it, Eve stepped aside, and they both landed in the grinding machine and were annihilated. Eve returned to the deck with the ring clutched tightly in hand. She was greeted by two of the crewmen who forced the ring from her and tossed her overboard. The note was the last clue. Translated it read: "No woman can ever own, possess, nor wear this ring. To do so means certain death."

# GRANNY

"You says it wrong, Tina," she said. "It's AR kansas. Got its name from a tribe who used to live there years ago \- the Kaws."

"The Kaws?" Tina questioned. "I never heard of them before."

"I knows," she said, "Ever hear tell of the Sioux or the Osage?"

"Yes'm."

"Well, Sioux be's what most white folk call Kaws. Theys breeded up with the Osage. Hard to find a pure-breed Kaw now-a-days, I reckon,"

"You're probably right," Tina agreed even though she had no idea of what her grandmother was talking about. Granny was a deliberate talker. She always took her time and told things exactly as they were, giving much attention to details. One usually had to keep her on the story or else she would start on another.

"But what is Arkan, I mean AR kansas, like?" Tina asked again.

"Chile," Granny replied. "It's beautiful country. Lots of animals - opossums, coons, rabbits, foxes, bobcats, beavers, white-tailed deer and skunks a-plenty. Lots of them in them mountains, and there be's lots of mountains. I could never forget 'em - the Oachitas on the South, the Bostons on the North, with old Blue Mountain on one side of the AR kansas River and Magazine Mountain on t'other, guardin that little cover like twin spires on a church. Beautiful, um hum, jest beautiful." Granny was reflecting. "It were that valley, in Bigelow, that I were born. Never met my pappy. Don't knows much 'bout him 'ceptin his name be's 'Joe' and that he were took from my mammy on a lost wager. My mammy, God rest her soul, died givin life to me. Her name be Mary. "Sides my looks, my name, 'Maryjoe' be's all I got of 'em."

"What's the weather like in AR kansas?" Tina asked.

"Winters be short, cold-wind off that river cuts through like a two-edged sword - gets you a-comin and a gwine. Summers be long, hot - good for cotton. These hands picked many a bale of cotton," she said as she carefully examined her hands. "I don't 'member a summer's day, even as a chile, when I were't snatched from my bed - made to work in the fields with no rest 'til dark. Carried my lunch - bread and jowl -in a sack tied 'round my waist. Ate as I worked."

"Why, Granny!" Tina cried incredulously. "You sound like you lived back in slavery times!"

"Still do. Chile, we all be slaves one way t'other. You, too."

"Oh no, I ain't," Tina insisted. "I'm free - I ain't hardly a slave!"

"You feels that a-way," Granny explained, "cause you young and don't knows to know better. Don't knows you still be's colonized."

"Granny," Tina said. "You sound almost bitter."

"Sounds be's only meringue. Lots of memories in my feelings - lots."

Granny closed her eyes as it to better see the past by shutting out the present. Granny was old, in her nineties, but her mind was quick and her tongue acrid. She had no difficulty getting around, as her body was yet supple, too. The crooked cane she carried on dress-up, church-going occasions, she had brought with her from AR kansas some sixty years ago. Granny formerly had been tall, but age had bowed her legs. When she walked though, she held her head so high that one had to look intensely to notice the slight bent of her shoulders. Her features were distinct. She had a lean face with a broad forehead, high cheekbones, full lips, a bump in her prominent nose, and mean little eyes. She wore glasses and false teeth. The glasses she needed. She could eat lettuce and steak with her bare gums. Tina liked to comb her hair. It was so soft - like cotton streaked with silver. Granny always covered her head when she left the house, and she always wore good shoes.

"Pneumonia starts in bare feets and bare heads," she often said. She usually wore a black straw hat and high, lace-up boots. If ever she wore pants, Tina could not remember having ever seen her in any. On all occasions she covered her unyielding frame with long, dark dresses and a wrap, usually shawls which she knitted himself.

"I were born in the eighties," she continued. "I were born to misery. Times were surely hard for us coloreds. Most be saying to be's sharecroppers, but we ever shared a thing 'ceptin misery. We do's all the work. Work from can't see in the mornin 'til can't see at night. Then, by the time old Mastuh Baxtuh counts off our living, we still be's in his debt."

"Didn't you go to school, Granny?" Tina asked.

"Weren't none. Not for us coloreds. It was agin the law to teach a darky to read. But we didn't minds not being able to read and write. And we weren't 'allergic to hard work none either. Most be's happy jest to have a roof over theys heads, a few rags on theys back and some grits in theys bellies."

"Who took care of you? With no parents, where did you stay?" Tina inquired.

"Whoever I worked with in the fields were who I went home with. I were nobody's but everybodys - weren't really anybody's. I was a chile, but I did grown up's work. I worked hard every day. ,,, Yes, I has lots of memories, some good - mostly not good. I 'members. Chile, how I 'members. ... I 'members when I comes into womanhood - most of been twelve or so ..." Granny paused and looked over at Tina as if to see whether or not she was still listening. Satisfied that she was, Granny continued.

"I had the worsetest pain ever be, right in the small of my back that runs around to the low sides of my bell, by my tubes. I made mention of it to a couple of folks, and they jest says it were 'cause of all the stoopin I be's doin catchin up on me.' The pain got worser, so I told the overseer, but he jest tells me to get backs to work or takes a whuppin. So I worked - I worked all the while the sticky red river runs down my legs and moistens the earth 'neath me. Like a stuck pig, I bleeds all day. That night, Big Momma comes and gives me some rags to wear and 'plained what be happenin. She gives me a brew that took aways the pain and cause me to sleep. I never bled that much again 'til a couple years later when old Mastuh Baxtuh forced hisself on me by the privy one night and got me with chile. Nobody had ever 'plained the facts of life to me. Didn't need no one to tell me the hurt he puts on me be's wrong. He threatened me so. I told no one about what he did to me. I told no one when I comes to know I be's with chile either. Didn't no one need tells me how to avoid him. Didn't no need tells me how to free myself of his bastard chile either ... Ridded it myself one day right out in the fields. Must of been 'bout four months along. I knows I be's with childe and hadn't know no one 'ceptin him. I surely didn't wants no mulatto comin to this world for to suffer ... Barely took care of myself. Surely couldn't care for no sucklin. Gets me a wild plum branch - cause it be's smooth feelin. Stuck one end of the stick in the earth and then sat on t'other. It tore into my twots and barren my womb. When the overseer comes upon me, he tries to breathe consciousness back into me. I comes to for a hazy moment - long enough to complain ...

When I wakes up agin, I be's alone in one of the shacks. No one had stayed with me 'cause there be's cotton to pick, and 'sides I done lost so much blood they things I be's dyin. When theys gets back that night, I heard them says Old Mastuh Baxtuh sayin that ifen I weren't already dead, he be's gonna whip me 'til I were. He be's as mad at me for losing a day's work as he be's for gettin rid of his sucklin. I weren't able to travel, but they took me away that night anyway. They took me down river to another colony in Fourche, where I hides 'til be's strong enough to travel on my own."

"Didn't Master Baxtuh come looking for you?" Tina asked

"No," Granny replied. "They has a funeral for me."

"Didn't you get awfully hungry when you were traveling?"

"No, not really," Granny continued, "I leaves with a bandanner full of jowl. "Sides, there be's lots to eat in the valley - wild berries, plums, crab apples, nut trees - lots of good things to eat."

"Didn't you get awfully tired?" How did you bathe? Did you take clothes with you? Weren't you scared?" Tina had lots of questions.

"Yes, yes, no, yes," Granny responded. "Chile, God looked after me. I walks for days. At nights appearin at different colonies, gettin food, comfort and rest, then movin on a'for daybreak, so's not to cause no trouble. I be's tavelin 'bouts a week a'fore I comes upon some sharecroppers on the way to Wrightsville, a colored colony on the other side of Little Rock. They lets me ride in they wagon that far. My feets feels so good ridin. But, too soon I be's walkin-in agin. I comes upon a small creek and squatted to cool my feets. Suddenly my eyes locked with thems of a rattler. I be's so scared, I jest froze. He reared his head, and I do's a foolish thing. I runs. A'fore I knows a thing, I stumbles over a fallen branch and hits my head., When I comes to, I fully 'pects to be near death, for the last thing I 'member be's the snake. It be's near dark, but as I sits up a white ball of fur catches my eye. A rabbit lay dead about three feet from me. Somehow I knows a'fore I looks it over that it be's dead from snake bite. For the first time since I leaves Mastuh Baxtuhs, I be's too scared to walk. As darkness comes, my fear grows; but I starts walkin agin. Ever rustle in them fields be's a snake; and I runs 'til all the air in me seems gone. And woe on top of woes, it starts into rainin. I comes out of them muddy fields and takes to the road.

It be's real dark when I finally comes upon an oddly-put-together shanty that I knows no white folks lives in. Be's how I never to be of a mind to knock on colored fold doors, I jest went on it. My head hurts. My body be's cold and wet. Weren't nobody home, so I jest laid 'cross the bed.

The smell of coffee and opossum wakes me. The man who be's a-cookin be's young, and as I thought, colored. I tries to close my eyes and go back to sleep, but I be's more hungry than I be's tired, Sittin up made the bed squeak. He turns 'round and asked me ifen I be's awake. I says nothin - jest grudges the meat he be's holdin in his hand. He feeds me. We didn't says much at first. He jest lets me eats my fill. Then he nurse my head which be's cut and tells me to rest. He be's gentle-strong, clumsy-but gentle. I stays with him. His name be John Jeffison."

"Granddaddy!" Tina shouted.

"We learns each other," Granny was saying. "He be's a freeman. Has inherited land from his pappy. I looks at him hard. His color be's a little peculiar. His hair be's straight-be's good. He be's no mulatto. He be' no pure breed either. I asks ifen his pappy be a white man. He say his pappy be a slave and a-fore I asks more, he tells me that his pappy's mastuh - Mastuh John Watson, had a little welp of a chile who often swum in the lowland streams. She be a good 'nough swimmer, but one day, she gets a cramp in her leg. John's pappy be huntin for coon with Mastuh Watson when they hears her shouts. His pappy runs like a deer - saves her life. In 'preciation, Mastuh Watson gives his pappy his freedom and a rich parcel of land."

"What was John's father's name," Tina asked.

"He be's jest called, 'Jeff's son.' His pappy a'fore him be called Jeff, and when he be's born, they calls him Jeff's son. When he moved to his new land, he takes a wife. They calls they only sucklin, John. Mastus Watson fixes it so's John can got sit besides the door of the school. When he gets there, all the other chilern has two names, so John says his last name be's Jeffison."

"Was John's mother a white woman?" Tina wanted to know.

"No," Granny replied. "She be's a Kaw. John said his pappy be dead gwine on five summers, and his mammy dies three months after he buried his pappy. God rest they souls. He be alone 'til the Lord sends me to him."

Granny had become silent as though she were silently reminiscing. Tina broke the peace.

"Well, when did y'all leave AR kansas?" Tina asked.

"Much later," Granny responded.

"What happened?" Tina wanted to hear the whole story.

"I accepts him. We jumps over the broom. I gives him two sons. Each one be's an occasion for rejoicin." Granny continued. "He be's such a good husband, such a good father. He be's so tenderhearted, and he loves me. He really, really loves me. Says I be's strong. Says I be's his strength. Our lives be's simple, but oh, so sweet. He be's such a good man, always trying to surprise me. I 'members. Oh, how I 'members. Hah! I 'members the time he buys the most beautiful raw silk for me to make a fancy dress. He bought so much material that I makes the dress and shirts for him and the boys. Lord, I tell you. He be's the one surprised."

"Yes'm," Tina said. "But what caused y'all to leave?"

"Had to." Granny was going to take her time. Tina waited as Granny closed her eyes and relaxed - quiet - as if again remembering. Her voice was strained when she finally began again. While she was talking, tears ran down her cheeks.

"We be makin such a good effort - John and me. Then John decides to take on some sharecroppers. They be a good idear. But then he goes up to Little Rock to see 'bouts gettin a loan for some machinery. They gives him the loan, and he gets a fine machine. We be's so happy. Chile, you jest don't know, and I can't begins even to tell you jest how happy. When somethin be's too good to be true it usually is. Seems it be's over a'fore it started."

"How so?" Tina did not understand.

"Bout two months aftuh he gets the machine, theys come a'tellin him he be done broke the contact. If John be dumb be's one thing, but John could read. He knows he didn't break no contract. He tells them so. They laughs and arrests him. As they be draggin him away to jail, he yells at me to get him a good lawyer. I tries, but I fails. I goes to town with my young'uns and begins to ask. Three men jest takes my money was 'nough for a 'tainer, for me not to worry. They did nothing. Didn't even show up for John's trial. Me and my two little boys be's the only ones there in his behalf. Poor John didn't have no chance. Theys took his land, said he owes some outlandish amounts, then sentences him to twenty years hard labor.

I jest sat crying with my sucklins huggin my skirts. Suddenly a white man who be's sittin in the back of the room be's on his feets, yellin at the judge, sayin how unfair the sentence be's. A'fore the judge could fine him for contempt, which he did later, that man had promised to pay off what John owed and to give us a home. In return, he said that John could work for him 'til he repaid him, and then he could stay on for pay long enough to get another stake. That certainly seemed better than twenty years hard labor. We would be's together. 'Sides we had seen hows they treated colored prisoners. There be's some of them working over in the swamplands by West End building a levee. They has a heavy ball chained to they leg, and they hands be's chained to a wheelbarrow. At gunpoint theys be made to push that wheelbarrow 'cross a wire-like slat of wood. If theys don't be's careful and that wheelbarrow runs off, it takes the man with it. Chained like he be's, he surely to sink to the bottom of that ole swamp."

"How long did it take y'all to pay the white man back?" Tina asked.

"That's jest it." Granny said. "We never did. At first we thought he be's our Jesus, but he gives us nothin but hell. I knowed him, but be didn't knows me. He used to visit Mastuh Baxtuh when I was there. He be's Mastuh Palarm. He takes us to his run-down plantation. On the way, John tells him what happened to us. Mastuh Palarm jest nods his heads, says he knows seech things to happen, and that makes him all the happier to help us. Well, we worked for that yap for nearly 'bouts eight years, and he still says we be's not through payin on interest, lest alone principle. John be's not the only one working, either. My boys, 'J.J.' and "Marshall' and me - we all has double chores to do. I finds myself along with my young-uns in them cotton fields all day and then as servants in Mastuh Palarm's house at night. Some of the things that went on in that house at night at t'weren't proper for my little boys to be a-seein. Mastuh Palarm didn't has no mistress, jest sharecropping women he call his 'bitches.' He be carrying on somethin fierce with them 'til almost daybreak, and then it be's times to go back to the fields.

"Wow!" Tina said. "Y'all be slaves for real."

"Worse than slaves," Granny corrected. "Slaves gets a full night's sleep."

Granny continued to vividly describe the hardships they endured during their eight-years captivity. Tina's efforts to hurry her along were futile - Granny took her time.

"We worked so hard. There scarce be little time left for lovin. The one time I did get life in me, I got pneumonia and lost it. "Cause his house be warmer, Mastush Palarm insisted that I stay with him through the winter 'til I gets back on my feet. John didn't like the idear. Mastush Palarm says the boys could stay with me in the blue room. So we moves. T'weren't long a'fore I tells Mastuh Palarm I could be's of help to John with the plantin, but he orders me to stay put.

He had begun to have his way with me. I tells John he be's only fondlin me, but John knows better. He wants to kill him, but we both knows better. Soon we knows that Mastuh Palarm has no mind to let me leave ever. John makes out a plan for us. He gonna slip away, go North, get settled, then comes back for us. I tell John to take us with him 'cause I be's scared of old Mastuh Palarm.

T'weren't long a'fore John slips off. I tell Mastuh Palarm that he jest leaves us high and dry. Well, Mastuh Palarm tells me not to fret none, that he would keep on lookin aftuh us. He looked aftuh us all right. I discovers that I be's with chile. I tells him, and he jest laughs. Trying to fight him off do no good. The more I fight, the more excited he get. He was a pervert. Some of the things he did to me be's jest downright nasty and honery. He had no scruples, no respect for nobody. He jest as soon have sex with a chicken as would with me. Then he would wring the chicken's neck and tell me to pluck it and fry it for him. 'So's I can enjoy it twice.' he laugh and say.

One time he tries to have me in the parlor room right in front of my little boys. I tries to fight him off. Marshall tries to help me. He comes at Mastuh Palarm with an ice pick. That old bastard force the pick out of Marshall's hand and begins to cuff him all 'bouts the head 'til my precius chile falls back on the sofa. I jumps on old Mastuh Palarm's back, but he jest throws me aside like I be a rag-a-muffin. "Fore I gets back to my feets, like the devil hisself, he brings that pick down on Marshall's little body. I think he meant to stab him in the ear, but Marshall be a sliding down off the sofa tryin to get away. The pick pierced him the eye. His outcry be's so fierce that Mastuh Palarm stumbles backward. It all jest happens so fast. J.J. grabbed Mastuh Palarm ankle and be bittin on it as if to sever his foot from his leg. As Mastuh Palarm tries to shake him loose, I rush to Marshall, pulls the pick out of his eyeball and throws it at Mastuh Palarm. It barely misses his head. Cussin and rantin, he finally kicks J.J. aloose and orders me out of his house. J.J. had picked hisself up and runs ahead. I half-carries, half dragged Marshall down the road to our shack. Once there, I nurses him, but the eye t'weren't never no more good."

"With him raping you like that, weren't you worried about getting pregnant?"

"No, I were already carryin John's sucklin - your Uncle Cairus."

"How long did y'all stay there?"

"Too long."

"Well, when did you leave?"

You know, young'un" Granny continued, "I lives in misery for onto three months after Cairus be born a'fore I gets word that John be's in Nashville, Tennessee, workin in a foundry. We has to wait 'cause we knowed that Mastuh Palarm come alookin fer us if we tried to slip away too soon. We weren't fer sur where John be's til word comes. I knowed too I wouldn't be's strong enough fer the trip fer a while after Cairus was born."

"Did Master Palarm let you alone after the baby was born?"

"I still had to clean his house, but he never, but he never rapes me again. I sees to that. He were a dog, but he were peculiar dog. So long as I be's bleedin, he wouldn't touch me. Said I be's unclean. So a'fer I every comes to his house, I be's sure to scrape my twots with burrs to keep the blood runnin."

"Wasn't that terribly painful?"

"Jest livin were painful."

"Weren't you scared to go around Master Palarm after that fight?"

"I jest hated him the more and prepared for leavin with new determination. I buried our small, precious things in a bucket covered with squirrel hide in back of a marked tree. All our valuables 'ceptin our money went in that hole."

"Were did you get money?" Master Palarm wasn't paying you, was he?"

"No, I had stole it from him. John had says I be's a poor pupil 'ceptin fer countin money. Now that I do's right good. Yes suh, ever night I pleased ole Mastuh Palarm, he pays fer it, 'cause once he be's asleep, I jest took a small bill from his pouch. I weren't greedy - sometimes I only took coins, but it begins to mount up. And too, J.J. had seen old Mastuh Palarm bury some money. The night we left, we digs up his savins - took all the bills and put them in the mink-skinned pouch John made me. Then I fastens that pouch to my bloomers."

"On primary election day, old Mastuh Palarm went in to Little Rock to vote. On seech trips, he'd get so lickered up he'd has to stays in town all night. It were our chance to leave. I took food, the money, and my young'uns - nothin else. After spreading kerosene up and through our shack and settin fire to it, I hurries my young'uns to his boat, and with my baby tied to my back, I rowed down the Arkansas River to the Misscceebee. Once there I pays fifteen cents for us to be 's ferried 'cross. A little colored boy not bigger than J.J. worked on the ferry. He told us how to get to a colony in Beulah, Missceebee. Had I a-known how much we be's appreciating his help, I would-a give him two bits. As it were, I jest give him a 'God bless you chile.'

The folk at Beulah tried to dissuade us from gwine on. They told me we be's safe there with them. But, seein that we be's determined to get to Nashville, they drew me a map and gives me food, water, and a horse. I started to offer money, theys advised me well. Says if I had any money, keep it well hid. Not to offer up none to no one. Jest to 'cept all the free help I could get. They also gives me names of church folk in colonies 'Tween Beulah and Nashville who would help me. One ole woman made me drink a strong broth - tasted bad - fer good health. It be's the gift of an old man which were to eventually save my life. He gives me a shotgun, but more he learned both me and your pappy, J.J., how to use it.

The horse they gives us weren't fast, but he be's strong and sturdy. Most times I would walk in front leadin the horse with the boys aridin. Marshall holdin on to Cairus. But ever now and then, my two little men would insist I ride with the baby whiles they walked. We followed a road near the River. It took us longer, I'm sure, but there be's more coloreds living 'long the delta, and it were safer. We travels during the day and rested at night. Let me think," she said as she rubbed the bump on her nose, searching for details. "We stayed at colonies in Rosedale, Hillhouse, Rena, Sherard, Friar's Point, Tunica, and Walls be's our last stop a'fer Memphis. In Walls our horse went lame and I has to shoot it. How we makes it to Memphis only the good Lord knows. He be's our keeper. We be's so tired of walkin. My shoulders were raw from the ropes that held Cairus. Pain would of killed me had not my feelins gone plum numb. We be's on the outskirts of Memphis when Marshall gets the idear that we try to ride a freight. We probably looked mighty piteful tiptoein up on a train so's not to be caught. But sure enough, we gets on an empty car. It must of carried dung it smelled so bad. We didn't mind though, once it started movin, and air started blowin in and out. As a matter of fact, it were the first time since we left Beulah that I 'member the boys even smilin. The freight took us into the stockyards at Nashville. On the way the boys rested, but I slept only in fits, 'cause ever time the train slowed down or picked up speed, I would wake up.

We went to a colony in East Nashville. There we finds folk the who knew of John. We be's so happy we didn't hear them says he had left over two months ago. It took them a while to calm us down and make us realize that John were no longer there. I cried. I cried hard, angry tears. The boys cried too. We couldn't he comforted."

"Awh Granny," I asked, "what did y'all do then"

"I really didn't knows what do. Fer near 'bouts a week I slept and ate and walked 'round in a daze. I really didn't knows that to do. The, one day, a man who had worked with John at Phillips' and Burdorfs' Factory come to see me. He name were Jesse Thomas. He told me that John had gone to a place in Indianner called Terra Haute to a lost creek settlement. The difference 'tween settlement and colonies, he told me, were that colored folk usually be's able to work and buy theys land in the settlements - not so's in the colonies. At Lost Creek, Jesse told me John were probably workin in the coal mines. He took a map and showed me Terra Haute. I cried again 'cause Terra Haute were almost as fer away as we had come. Jesse tried to get me to stay in Nashville, 'cause John had told him that he were goin to Indianner to work and buy a home with lots of land, and then he were goin back to AR kansas to get his wife and children."

"Did you stay and wait, Granny?"

"No, Charles, I had no ways of knowin if John would really come back through Nashville fer sure, but I did knows that he hadn't bought no home yet - not in no two months' time. I decided that be best be's going to Terra Haute. Jesse paid our train fare to Louisville. Different ones gives us coats. They be's worn and ill-fittin, but they be's better than what we had, and we be's mighty thankful many times over fer them. Jesse played a guitar, and he brung us the case so' we could put the shotgun in it. Since we be's ridin this time as payin passengers, we couldn't be carryin no gun in plain sight. They gives us a basket of food - smoked ham, bread, fruit, and water.

We be's out of Tennessee when I opened up the basket and finds the little sack full of dollar bills. Once more I cries 'cause it be's 1914 and times be's hard. Everything be's hard to come by. Yet, them folks who didn't knows me from dirt be givin they all to help me along. Spared my pride, too. I never seen them agin, but I knows theys be doing well cause what goes round surely do come 'round.

We runs into serious trouble in Louisville. Deep troubles ... We tries to find a colony or settlement, but we had no seech luck. I tried findin an inn that would let us rest the night. No luck. So we goes back to the train station to get aboard a train to Indianapolis. We comes upon a freight train. While the boys a-gwine over to a ditch to relieve themselves, I gwines over the other side of the train to see ifen there be's an empty car. Next thing I knows I be's grabbed from behind. I looks down on the white hand that be's coverin my mouth and I begins to fight. The boys hears us strugglin, but they be's old 'nough and wise 'nough not to come a-running. They sneaks upon us. J.J. had been packin that guitar case closer than I had little Cairus. I be's strugglin so hard I didn't hear J.J., but that yap who had grabbed me surely did.

"Leave my mammy be." J.J. said, his voice jest a-shakin.

The man turns me a-loose and starts towards J.J. Like he'd been shootin skunks all his life, J.J. aimed and fires that gun. The kick of the gun knocked J.J. off his feets. The gun blast gutted my-would-be attacker. Fear grabbed at my belly. I lost my dinner, but not my head. We had done killed a white man. I grabs the gun from J.J. and little Cairus from Marshall and hurried my young'uns away. J.J. scampered and got the guitar case and put the gun aways as he runs. As we headed towards the river, we hears the commotion of folks gatherin ' round the dead man. We huddles under the bridge all night. I jest knows we would be caught. I be's so scared I even wished we be's back at old Mastuh Palarm's. The next morning, we gets aboard a costly boat gwine to Evansville. We took sail' cause the boys didn't want to walk all the ways back to the train station, and I be's too scared to go back. When we gets to Evansville, we be's able to get aboard a freight. When it stops, we be's in Vandalyer, Illinois.

"What did you do, granny?"

"We most assuredly didn't get on another freight. No tellin where we would have wound up ifen we keeps on doing that, or what would-a happens should we gets caught. Then, too, the Klan be's strong in Indianner, or so's I be's told. Lordy, Lordy, I can't even thinks 'bout what theys do to me and my young'uns. I decided to gwine on over to the colored window of the train station. There be's a colored woman workin there. I asks her how far we be's from Terra Haute, and did she know how to gets there. She asks me how I comes to Vandalyer, and when I didn't answer, she asked me ifen I could afford tickets in Terra Hauter. She tells me ifen my young'uns tweren't twelve yet, theys could ride free. Marshall proudly tells her that he be's twelve gwine on thirteen. She tells him that he know that and that she know that, but not for him to tell anyone else. She has us come inside, and aftuh I used the restroom, she takes us 'round to the counter to buy me a ticket. Everbody there but her be's white, but theys treated her right fine. She jest laughed and carried on with 'em. She laughed even though there be's nothin funny says or done. When she hands me my ticket, she says loudly as she winks. "Those sandwiches you pays me for ought to be ready 'bout now.' She sees us settled on the train and joshingly threatened the conductor 'bout what she'd do ifen he didn't take care of her family. For the first time in a mighty long time, I sleeps. The porter gives me a cushion, and I puts it behinds my head and lets the rails jest lull me to sleep. Later, my young'uns tell me how the porter keeps comin back to check on us - makin sure be be's all right."

"Reachin Terra Haute be's like reachin heaven must be's. The porter tells us how to find Lost Creek. We comes so far that the few miles to Lost Creek seems like blocks. We walked with a new kind of energy. The name we be's given be's 'Winston'. We has no problem findin 'em. They be's well known. He be's a preacher and a landowner, but even more, they owns a T-Model Ford. Not a new one, minds you, but it surely runs good. They be's the only colored folk in Lost Creek to has one. They house be's the nicest one I ever be's in - white or colored. There be's nice rugs on wooden floors, and the walls be's all covered with pretty flowery paper. It be's nice. I tells them who I be's and asked if they knows of John. Yes, they know John, but he been gone less than a week to Indianapolis to work in a foundry as a pattern maker.

My chin must of sunken to the floor. I couldn't cry. I didn't have no more tears. I jest starts to wringin my hands, shakin my head and whispering, 'No', over and over agin. They be seech kindly folk. They knows how badly I wants to see John, so theys call his job long distant and has them put him on the phone. He couldn't believe it be's me, and that I be's so close to him. The boys jest tore at me tryin to get to the phone, so finally, as the tears begins to seek my eyes agin, half-laughin, half-cryin, I gives the phone to them. The Winstons jest stood by watchin us and noddin they heads. Finally Mistuh Winston took the phone and talked. He tells John that he would be bring us over first thing in the mornin. Mornin never takes so long in a'comin."

"Wow!" shouted Tina, "So y'all finally got back together!"

"Yes! Yes!" Granny replied. "Talk 'bouts happy, my, my!"

"Did he ever buy y'all a home, Granny?"

"No chile," Granny face darkened. "He didn't live long 'nough."

"Oh, no! What you mean, Granny?"

"We be's so happy. John rented one side of a house 'cause we all couldn't stays in his one room. Our new home be's nice. We had a livinroom, a dinninroom and a kitchen all downstairs and three bedrooms upstairs. Oh, it be's fine! We lives there nearly 'bouts a year a'fore John gets a hankerin to go back and get our valuable that I had buried. It be's the Kaw in him. He had gives me some stones to keep for him. I knows they be's valuable so I buried them, too. For some reason, he be's jest obsessed to get them - says they has a curse on 'em. I be's so tired of hearing him talks about it, I finally jest tells him to go ahead and do what he feels he has to do. So John buys hisself train tickets. Marshall wanted to go, and we almost lets him. I be's glad a hunderd times I made him to stay with me 'cause we neer seen John agin."

"He ran off and left y'all?" Tina asked, disappointed.

"I kinder puzzled that myself at first, but it jest didn't ring true. We be's too happy for him to jest runs off. I finds out later that he makes it back, but old Mastuh Palarm caught him, shot him in the leg, then hung him. One of the colored men who helped bury him took his train tickets off his body and come to Indianapolis. He comes to see me. Seems the fire we starts when we leaves, set fire to everthin - the shacks, the storage bins, even some of the fields. With his savins gone and his property destroyed, Mastuh Palarm be's completely ruined."

"Have you ever been back to AR kansas?" Tina asked

"Nope!" Granny quickly replied.

"Why?" Are you afraid to go back?"

"No, tain't fear that keeps me away," Granny said softly. "Jest tain't no reason. All my time, thoughts, energy and little money I be's able to scrape together, I be's puttin on my young'uns, educatin 'em."

"Why didn't you ever remarry, Granny? You weren't an old woman," Tina inquired.

"I jest never desired no one. Just t'weren't interested. 'Sides the memories I has of me and John be's more than 'nough to keeps me contained, and our children gives me more than 'nough grandchildren to keeps me busy - present company included."

# RAYLENE'S STORIES

# VICTORY ON NOBLE STREET

"We're surrounded by decay and crime. The Noble Street Crime Watch has got to keep our street together. So, why the blazes aren't there more people here?" Jesse Sawyer, our Captain, thundered his disapproval. An ex-marine, tall, solidly built, a square jaw and sporting a crew cut to match, Jesse is intimidating.

With a population of 200,000, Nopolis is on the large end of a small city. In recent years large numbers of immigrants have flooded our city, pushing our resources about to the limit. The rich diversities of language, foods and cultures (at least in my opinion) have more than offset the negatives. It kind of pushed us out of our shell into the 21st Century. Even Jesse admits that it has helped to change his way of thinking and opened his mind.

"Saints preserve us," I thought "an open minded Jesse!"

Nopolis is not a young city. Proudly, we trace our heritage back to early America. As the Nopolis story goes, the beginnings of the city were so humble and the early settlement was so small that one settler joked it was "no city". Somehow the idea stuck and some brainiac took the Greek word, polis, for city and created the name Nopolis.

Cotton ruled supreme, causing Nopolis to flourish with large plantations and mansions in the strong southern tradition of leisure and luxury. In keeping with the "Greek" concept, the downtown of the city was designed as a grid. An inner square forms the center. Four streets running east and west crossing four avenues north and south continue the square. The Nopolis founding fathers named the streets with what they called "exalted names" to give the city a sense of grace and charm.

The first structure in the inner square was an elaborate mansion for the mayor. The first mayor's wife, it is said, was a real stickler for cleanliness. Daily laundry, carpets, and other domestic items could be found hanging from the fences, clotheslines, or whatever was available. This created so much interest in what was going on in the Mayor's house that future mayors' wives refused to live in the mansion.

The mansion was then used as a town center or town hall. Eventually when Nopolis became the county seat in the early 1900s, a new city county building was erected. Another city county building was built to replace that one later in the century.

The formal mayor's mansion was moved to the outermost northern street, at Imperial and Grand, of the Grid. This put the mansion close to the landed gentry and their mansions. At the time this was considered a prime move socially and politically. All of the local "rich and famous" could hobnob together.

This area basically remains intact today. Many of the families have remained through the generations. The family wealth still allows them to maintain their mansions luxuriously and magnificently. Several families in that area still have cotton-producing plantations. Unlike the days of old, slaves no longer man the cotton plantations. Today work on the plantations offers a decent salary and benefits. Some of the owners say that Nopolis is setting a new standard by providing benefits for plantation workers.

Following the Mississippi River on the southwest side the cotton mills, railroads, interstate, businesses, and construction companies are located. Colonial Avenue has become very commercial with a tri-level Shopping Mall at the north end. Traveling south on Colonial the shops and restaurants grow more numerous and less elegant.

Our street, Noble, is the last southern street in the Grid. The block where our Crime Watch is located was once considered on the edge of town. Now with all of the new growth, Nopolis has grown to the point where we are a part of the inner city.

While at the east end of Noble Street, where the two stone lions still stand majestically, the neighborhood behind them is sagging. As the old aristocracy receded, mansions were torn down and four two story Italianate houses were built. These houses are large family dwellings.

The last large mansion on the east end of the block behind the lions was spliced into apartments and flats. Students and a somewhat new wave type occupy these apartments. Although they are a little much for us older folks, they are basically well behaved and tidy.

Soon the rest of the land was absorbed to make way for even smaller single dwelling housing. Today each house has a small front yard and a back yard with enough space for a small garden. The net result is that the houses are pretty close together. Jesse jokes that if you reach out your window, you can dine with your neighbor.

A small apartment building has been built on the southwest end of the street. Colonial Avenue with its high traffic, small shops, grocery and restaurants seem to invite transients and druggies to live in this apartment building. Of course, some of these undesirables make life totally miserable for the few senior citizens living there who date back from when the apartments were first built. To make matters worse the City swears they cannot locate the owners.

The rumor mill has it that Noble Street is to be included in a larger urban renewal project. The common belief is that the City Administration is ignoring all of the properties in the project. Some believe that the City will allow the properties to deteriorate by not contacting the owners to repair and improve the buildings. Once the buildings can be condemned, the City will take over, just paying owners for the land.

Some neighbors build upon this rumor by swearing that the City already has plans to tear up the Grid. They said that they have it on good authority that we are all going to be forced to move to the housing in the new subdivisions being built in the city's western suburbs.

Of course, this kind of talk would upset most of us especially Violet. Short, pecan colored skin, chubby and hard of hearing, Violet is one of the senior ladies occupying a small single home.

"Oh heavens," she would exclaim loudly "you don't think they will really make us move, do you? I just love my little house; I have been there for years. And I got my garden just right, you know. It's not too big, just right. It would be shame if I had to move. Oh, I wouldn't like that at all, not at all."

She would continue in this vein, wringing her hands and looking extremely worried until one of us would comfort her. Jesse would usually be the one. "Now, Violet, we have not seen anything in writing. Besides would they have designated this area 'Weed and Seed' if they were planning to force us out?"

This is a legitimate point. Weed and Seed provides a federal grant of thousands of dollars for additional police on the street, to hunt down errant landlords, and generally improve the neighborhood.

Even with the deterioration, Noble Street is still a grand street. Most of the neighbors keep their properties in good shape, a few houses could use some paint. Lawns are nicely trimmed, retaining a lot of that quiet country southern charm.

Jesse, a retired cotton mill foreman, with his wife Jeannie lives in one of the Italianate houses. Jeannie is tall but plump and pleasant. You can only think of "mother and apple pie" when Jeannie is around. The have six sons all born within two years of each other. When anyone would comment on how close and evenly spaced the boys are, Jeannie would laugh and say "Oh honey, you know that Jesse has everything on a schedule."

At one time the boys to Jesse's unashamed pride, was the entire first string of the local high school basketball team. They did a stomp down good job too. Two of the boys became career Marines. The rest scattered to the four winds, college, working and marrying. One grudgingly has to admit that Jesse makes a good father.

And while grudging admissions are being made, Jesse and Jeannie have one of the nicest kept houses on the block. He is a master gardener using mostly organic techniques. The yard seems always to be in bloom. He grows beefsteak tomatoes and some of the biggest bell peppers that I have ever seen. I just consider myself lucky to be next door where I can beg enough for my brother and me.

My brother and I live in an Italianate house as well. When I retired from the Army National Guard, I decided to return to my old hometown, Nopolis. The house I now own with it large rooms has been re-done into two separate living spaces up and downstairs. The previous owner, a divorcee, had decided to make bachelor pads. Since he couldn't find a suitable "bachelor" tenant, he decided to sell.

My brother, Phillip, did not want to admit it but he was having a tough time after a car accident that left him partially disabled. But, it didn't take much convincing him that for a very low rent, I could use a man about the house. It works okay with him downstairs and me up. I have my privacy and the downstairs works well for his disability and his ego.

I had the small crawl space attic above the downstairs kitchen converted into a sunroom with a large deck and steps. This provides another entrance upstairs and gave Jesse room to wisecrack that I created a lookout tower. Truth be told I can see quite a bit from my vantage point up high. Spying was not my intention as I made a cozy outdoor retreat with a hammock, grill, chairs and flowers. I spend many a quiet day enjoying the clouds, sky and the general ambiance of the outdoors.

I was pleasantly surprised to learn that my neighbor on the west side is Marguerite. She is without a doubt the oldest senior on the block. Her brothers and she brought her Italianate house when it was first built.

Marguerite had been a teacher in the local elementary schools. It had been years since I had seen her. I was a student assistant for her for several years. As she is a very learned woman, I came to respect and like her. When I left for graduate school, she insisted that I call her by her first name.

It seems to me that she was very old when I left. So, when I first returned and saw the bony hand creep around her garage door, her thin pale frame emerging as if slightly airborne, I couldn't be too sure that she was alive.

A thin smile broke across her gaunt face, "You're back, after all these years," she said.

"Marguerite." I was fighting hard not to betray that I was shocked that she is indeed alive.

Her skin is stretched so tightly across her facial bones that it appears to be translucent. Her natural teeth, however, are a marvel; bright and white, extending from very healthy gums.

She always wears a thin cotton dress and a very old sweater. Her wispy henna and gray hair is styled always the same, parted neatly into pin curls and covered with a hair net. The rubber boots that she once told me she wears to keep her feet dry from the morning dew looks as it she never takes her feet out of them.

Marguerite's demeanor is stern but kind from having taught school for more than 50 years. She has never married, explaining that her career just didn't allow time for a "man". When I told this to Jeannie, it caused her to grin wickedly and say, "Poor old thing, you reckon she's still a virgin?"

Perhaps, because she stood so very straight and correct, Marguerite seemed a lot taller than her height of around 5'6". Yet there is a sagging about her that reveals that age has indeed taken its toll. As I looked into her weary dull blue eyes, I can see the pain of being the last of her family.

"They're all gone. I don't go upstairs much since my brothers passed." she said, "I'm the last." She didn't look pitiful as if begging for sympathy she just stated the fact.

She hunched her thin shoulders and continued, "Each year I give a few more things away. That way, there will not be much for anyone to deal with when I too am gone."

"Nonsense," I managed to croak, smiling awkwardly, "you will be around for a very long time."

She smiled gratefully and looked toward Violet's house, next to her own. "I really do worry about Violet. You know that she can barely hear. And she is way too friendly with those bad people from the corner apartments. You just can't be too careful, you know."

Violet had caused us all some concern because she did allow some of the less predatory looking apartment dwellers into her house. She would just smile at us saying that they were such nice young people. She has brought lunches for them and herself. They would sit talking and sometimes playing music in her back yard.

If they had not come from such a predatory group, their activities would have been considered harmless. We might have even encouraged them because they did seem to provide company to a lonely old lady.

Violet has some money in the bank. She did not mind letting it be known that her sole surviving kin and she did not get along. She would say that she didn't have a lot but she was sure not going to leave it to her snotty relative. This is what worried us. The people from the corner apartments were not the ones to let on about anything of value.

Marguerite on the other hand was very careful. She rarely came out of the house. Jeannie and I think she only speaks to Violet and me. I see her in the early mornings when she comes out to work in her yard. She sits on her stool, her feet in the perennial rubber boots, tucked under her, as she furiously scraps and digs at the weeds growing at the base of our fence.

I'll lean on my weed whip and make awful jokes about getting indoors before the sun makes my already very ebony skin crispy. Surprisingly Marguerite catches my jokes and usually would flash one of her brilliant teeth smiles.

Perhaps, since I had never married and have no children, Marguerite felt a bond with me. Or, maybe, because I loved to read as did Marguerite that we found subjects to share as we did our yard work. Or, maybe as Jeannie teases, we are just alike - two old spinsters!

Marguerite is one of our best crime watch members, even though she does not attend meetings. She is always watching. She can tell who and where anyone is in the neighborhood at any time. If you make a major purchase, don't even think that she will miss it. Jeannie thinks she is bewitched, "Why, my goodness, you never see her at her windows and heck, you never even see her period. Yet she knows everything that goes on at either of the end of the street. I can't even see what's happening at the east end myself and I know I can see just fine!"

"Woman," roared Jesse, giving me his meanest soldier-get-in-step look, pay attention!"

"Uh, uh, oh, 'cuse me, just thinking about the neighborhood," I stuttered causing some to chuckle loudly.

"He's getting riled up, Bea! You had better head him off at the pass!" Jeannie whispered, giggling and poking me in the side.

The Sawyers and I have become good friends. "Now, Jesssseee," I said, drawing out his name and causing more giggling. "You know there are those who don't like attending meetings. There's my brother, Phillip, who pays dues and several of the seniors who don't like coming out like Marguerite ..."

"I'll say," piped in Jeannie, "you have got something special going on with that old lady. She won't let anyone in her house but you."

Jesse was tapping his foot indicating that he was losing his patience. So, I sat up straighter and gave me my wide-eyed "I am paying attention" look.

Jesse is very serious about our Crime Watch. It was he who started the Crime Watch. His effort was certainly impressive. He went to the police, researched the crime statistics not only on Noble Street but the entire Grid.

Jesse compiled a report complete with charts and statistics comparing each area of the Grid that was so detailed that the police requested a copy of it. From the police the City Safety Division got it and made it one of their standard reports. I think that even surprised Jesse. He just gives a shy smile when complimented. And then he grins broader, "Shucks, now all I got to do is read, they are doing all the work!"

All kidding aside, Jesse's report shows that they have been several bad crimes, sadly involving seniors, in the area. So, we really do appreciate his diligence. He drills us relentlessly on our Crime Alert routine at every meeting. This meeting is no exception.

After the meeting, as usual, we go to Super Belly's even though it is located near the "bad" end on Colonial Avenue. It had been a chain burger and fry place but guess the locals did not like that brand of burger. "Sup" as we call the owner really invested some planning and money when he remodeled the place. It is a real standout. As a result; Super Belly's is doing well. Of course, he has more than just burgers on the menu. It is one of Jesse's and Philip's favorite places to eat. Not only because the owner is an ex-marine but Jesse's always grins saying that "Super Belly is good for a big fat full belly!"

Even I have to admit with my hard to please vegan vegetarian tastes that Sup is forward thinking in his menu selections. He actually consulted with a vegan chef and offers a mean selection of vegan goodies. Jesse says I am a vegan because I'm too lazy to cook. I just grin and almost never back mouth to that because it is kind of true. Probably another reason the men in my life seemed to just "pass on through".

Regardless Sup says there are other vegans, some from the "East End" and even pulls a few from out of Nopolis. This always makes me stick my tongue out at Jesse. Jeannie has no end of fun stepping in and making us children behave.

While Phillip is never at a crime watch meeting, he always manages to be at Sup's when we are done. I forgot to mention that my brother looks like a wayward twig. If there was another one of him, I could use them as shoestrings. But the man can eat. This causes Jesse all told frustration. "Where in the blazes does all that food go? Stand up dude, I do believe your knees are hollow!"

Yah, we have some good times. After I got home, in bed I tried to read, hoping that it would help me to relax. Finally, I lapsed into a fitful sleep only to be jarred awake by the phone ringing.

"Bea, Bea," It was Marguerite. She was breathless.

"What is it? Are you alright?"

"There's men, oh Bea. They are trying to break into Violet's house. You know she's practically deaf. I can't see what they have in their hands but they are at her windows this very minute."

Jesse's training clicked into place. "Marguerite, dial 911, tell the police to come with no sirens, tell them that there are armed crime watch members on the scene.

Hanging up the phone, I ran to the hall and shouted downstairs to Phillip, "CRIME ALERT, CRIME ALERT. Men at Violet's windows".

Then, thankful for speed dialing, I punched in the two numbers for Jesse and Jeannie. When a sleepy Jesse answered, I shouted, "CRIME ALERT". He was instantly awake. "Where?"

"Violet's. Several men are trying to get into her house."

I hung up, grabbed my cell phone and on impulse my riot stick from my National Guard equipment. By the time I got downstairs, Phillip and Jesse were on the street striding towards Violet's. As Jesse trained us, the last ones out secured our houses. I whispered in the dark to Jeannie, "keys?"

"Got them," she whispered back, "phone?"

"On my hip."

Suddenly, we heard a gunshot and Jesse's sharp command, "Freeze!"

As Jeannie and I ran towards Violet's house, Jeannie saw someone running down the alley. "Bea, don't let him get away."

I looked toward the alley; I could see a figure darting from behind Jesse and Phillip. I am sure neither of them saw him. He was not running real fast, it was more like a quick walk, the way one does when trying to sneak away unnoticed.

I took off through my backyard to the alley holding my riot stick in position to hit him in his knees. He must have been coming faster than I thought. His momentum knocked the stick out of my hands. However, his legs got tangled in it and he fell. Jeannie had caught up and instantly sat on him.

He was young, dirty and had a mane of long matted tangled hair. He started bucking, trying to dislodge Jeannie. I lean over him and grabbed a handful of that dreadful hair, "You stay still, young man or I'll yank your hair so hard, your eyeballs will pop."

Jeannie then sat more firmly on him with me standing astride him holding his hair. That's the way the police found us. "Ladies, you can let him go. Ladies, we're the police."

The flash of camera lights and video cams brought us back to reality. Blinking it was otherworldly starring into faces of so many reporters. Things were a blur for a minute. Where did they come from so quick? And goodness, was everybody in Nopolis a reporter?

In addition to the reporters, it seems every neighbor from the entire street had gathered. Jesse gave them all a real mean stare and before he could say it, most of the neighbors were shaking their keys at him. "We know, secure our properties!" He then started grinning.

"You got us trained up real good, Jesse," somebody from the crowd shouted.

"Victory on Noble Street," the reporters crowed. They did not leave a stone unturned. They even recorded Jesse's Crime Alert routine. They stayed long after the police had rounded up the criminals.

There were three of them. Jesse and Phillip had two on the ground and of course, you know about the third one.

Yes, they had heard that Violet was loaded. They thought that she had some antiques and even cash hidden in her house. They also knew that she was almost deaf and thought that it would be a snap to sneak in and rob her. One of them kept saying that they did not intend to hurt her; they just wanted to make a quick score.

When the reporters asked Jeannie and me for our consent to publish our pictures, Jeannie was instantly fretting about her hair. Phillip didn't help matters any by saying that she looked like a scarecrow. Most the neighbors laughed heartily but they all assured her that it didn't matter and she really did look okay.

But the real show stopper was Jesse. He strutted, posed and cursed until he had everyone laughing till tears. He even held up the end of his pistol and blew the smoke off of it. It was a side of Jesse that none of us had seen. Jeannie was just as amazed as the rest of us. "Goodness, what have I married?" she giggled. However, you could tell that she was really pleased to see him be so human.

Looking back on it now, I do believe he was trying to bring us all back down to earth. It took some time but the reporters left and the neighbors slowly returned to their homes.

As Jesse, Jeanne, Phillip and I trudged back towards our homes, we could see Marguerite, phantom like in the dim porch light. There had been so much commotion that we had completely forgot about her. It was strange to see her standing almost outside with us.

She flashed a rare grin, "Thank you, I dread to think ..."

"Violet?" Jeannie asked.

We turned and looked at Violet's house. It was still dark. It appeared that she had not been disturbed. We all decided that it was wisest to wait and let Marguerite and the newspapers tell her what had happened. We assured Marguerite that I would drop some by for her the next day. Marguerite again pleasured us with one of her rare bright teeth grins and went inside her house.

As we turned away, Jesse, frustrated, said, "How in the dickens does she do it?

"Do what, Jesse?" Jeannie asked.

"Keep her teeth so durn pretty and white!

# THE NORAD CHRONICLES

I - NORAD

I've gotta admit, the scenery there was stunning. Maybe, I was just a bit on the high side of crazy but the sun rising and setting in the Rockies grabbed me in the gut and made a pleasant shiver track up and down my spine.

I felt small and insignificant when I looked at the Rockies all aglow in their splendor. But yet, I felt important and exultant to have even been able to experience the magic of the sun, the mountains and the conjugal harmony they created.

Yet, for all the emotions I felt about the sun and the mountains, quite frankly, my job gave me the creeps. We were preparing for disaster - not to prevent disaster - not to aid the helpless in some catastrophic natural assault - nothing so positive. Ours was a mission of doom. Everything we strove to perfect was for that one moment when man turned loose on the world the wrath of nuclear devastation.

When the North American Air Defense Command, NORAD, first employed me I was excited and considered myself indeed fortunate. NORAD is located in Cheyenne Mountain near Colorado Springs, Colorado. To some, I suppose, NORAD was a magical wonder of steel, computers and human ingenuity. However, I could not help but feel like an odious little mole burrowing my way down a one third mile tunnel which led to the mazelike city of NORAD. This tunnel divides into three parts leading to several chambers of steel and solid granite. Of course, Big Brother constantly watches. For along every tunnel and in every chamber, monitors eyeballed your every move.

No one had access to all the chambers and one had to repeatedly flash badges, receive clearances and parade a knowledge of gobbledygook that would put an ancient witch doctor to shame. Perhaps, the most terrifying feature of NORAD was the doors. Mammoth things that were steel blast encased in 17-foot concrete collars. They had the swing weight of around 25 tons and could be closed in 30 seconds.

But, 20 years ago, I said to myself, "Andrew Appleton, you've made it big. Yes sir, you flew right through all those security checks and employment requirements and you're sitting sure enough pretty!"

The thought of nuclear war didn't bother me or for that matter any of my fellow employees much. We considered nuclear power a brave new step that would insure peace because the ultimate weapon was so terrifying. So much so that no one would dare unleash its power. Fear is a strong deterrent, but it is not unconquerable. After the initial discover of nuclear power, country after country captured its secret. The old cold war now threatened to become the new very, very hot war.

The current conservative president, Thomas J. Hacker or "the hatchet man", was locked into launching the world on a path of total destruction. President Hacker was a modern day cowboy of the old school. He was tall and physically quite striking; silver gray hair, piercing blue eyes and in even in old age his body was rock hard and solid. He radiated honesty and a gentleness that inspired trust and confidence. The masses of America were lulled by the surface Hacker and never bothered to explore the cold-blooded, self-righteous man underneath.

He came to the presidency with no real political experience except as being the governor of a large western state. Hacker had no foreign relation experience and worse, he had no concept of America in relation to the rest of the world. He thought one could coral foreign nations and subdue them as one would cattle.

Hacked lived in a time past when America was the land of plenty and a power so strong it left countries literally "shivering in their boots". However, since our resources were rapidly depleted by large expenditures into the military and by foreign bribery in the name of foreign aid. America became less and less a terrifying power.

President Hacker had begun a campaign of crusading against the Russians and everything communist. Frankly, I found it hard to believe the average Russian was really any different from me ... he just ate, slept, worked his job, and believed in his county and its leaders. The Hatchet man was leading us into a war where there were no cowboys and we were all Indians.

However, this kind of talk could be labeled as seditious. And as a government employee, well ... Anyway, politics made my head hurt. Besides, these incidents are trivial compared to the story I'm really writing to tell!

II - Fana

When I first came to NORAD long before Hacker's presidency, my first job was as a low level clerk in personnel. I was responsible for verifying the credentials of the lower skilled employees. Shucks, even the garbage man was checked and rechecked. Naturally, I came to know most of these employees quite well.

One of my first assignments was to hire a Sanitary Recycler. The man we eventually found for the job was Sidwell Martin. He was small average looking black man from Alabama. Sidwell had a wife, Bertha, twin sons, John and James, and a daughter, Fana. He was dirt poor, honest to a fault and knew nothing except farming and hard work.

There was really nothing unusual about Sidwell or his family except his daughter, Fana. When I first saw Fana, she was a child of about seven. The only thing that struck me about the child was she was so black that she seemed to radiate a blue hue. I was told that her name, Fana, is a Nigerian girl's name for "light". Indeed when watching Fana, it seemed that the sun gleamed a fascinating shower of blues upon her blackness. It made me feel like I did about the sun and the mountains.

Sidwell died when Fana was in her late teens. While I was fascinated with her blackness, as the years passed I fail to notice the girl maturing. At the funeral, I watched Fana. The girl was truly amazing. Black and smooth as polished ebony, Fana moved with a lithe animal like grace. She wasn't beautiful by the established standards, but something about her blackness and her quiet easy grace stirred emotions deep within in me.

After speaking to the rest of the family, I embraced Fana to comfort her. I never forgot the velvet softness of her skin, an odor of light fragile musk and looking down into clear brown eyes that were like twin wells of ageless rapture.

Quite naturally we all offered to assist Sidwell's family. They decided to return to Alabama. After they had left, I thought often about Fana longing to bath in the delicious warmth of her embrace.

III - Jinaki

I thought I would never see Fana again. Thoughts of her were only magical escapes from a terrifying world of impending nuclear destruction. Hacker's successors continued his blind trek towards the saving (conquering) the world.

Then one day several years after Sidwell's death and the snows had melted. The Rockies were alive with the freshness of spring, I saw Fana walking toward me with a soft light smile. She was just as alluring as ever. For a moment I thought my dreams had taken the best of me. Or, perhaps, it was that feeling about the sun and mountains that had somehow conjured up this vivid image of Fana.

She was real and was speaking my name. "Mr. Appleton, how good to see you again."

All I could do was stammer, "You're back!"

"Yes, the mountains are really my home - but I haven't come alone."

I was so taken by Fana that I failed to see the baby she held in her arms. "Oh," I said, still quite unable to manage speech.

"This is my daughter, Jinaki."

"Jinaki," I repeated and then Fana folded the blanket away from the child's face. Such beauty! The baby was golden - truly golden. Her skin almost glittered. Jinaki's hair was red, but such a red I had never seen. It was more than brilliant, more like the bright red of an intense fire - red like the sun aglow in the Rockies. And through all the gold and red, merry black eyes danced at me.

I was weak, I could barely breath. "You're child, Fana, she's ... she's magnificent!"

Fana smiled with a soft smile and stood quietly watching me.

Then I became alive babbling question after question ... "Are you going to stay? Where's the rest of your poor family? How old is the ..." And realizing the prying nature of my questions, I stopped abruptly.

Fana sensed my distress and came quickly to my aid. "My family chose to stay in Alabama. I'll be staying in the mountains, close to NORAD. In fact, Jinaki and I will be well care for. I'm sure we will be seeing you often.

"Yes," I agreed and stood motionless watching her float away. Indeed I did see a lot of Fana and Jinaki. Since I never married it was convenient for me to visit frequently.

Although Fana was quite a bit younger than me, I shared a deep friendship with her. In her presence I felt serene and content. While Fana was certainly alluring, I felt that physical intimacy would somehow spoil the pureness of our friendship. Fana I felt understood me so completely emotionally and mentally (my desires to complain and babble about the political crisis).

However, the real joy was watching Jinaki grow. The child was alive, so alive that even inanimate objects seemed to radiate and shimmer in her presence. Her loud, demanding presence contrasted so strongly with Fana's soft quiet blackness, that it seemed unearthly.

She called Fana, Mother Fana. The two communicated with little or no speech. They had but to glance at each other to know what the other wished.

Jinaki was an enchantress and I was no match for resisting her charms, especially when she would run madly to me with those fiery red curls bouncing and grabbing me around the neck erupting with a powerful, "Hiya doing, Applejacks!"

Enchantress through she was, not everybody was taken by her commanding vibrancy. Teachers felt that she was disruptive and unruly. Jinaki was the Pied Piper; she led her classmates on a merry chase through what would otherwise for them have been a boring and dull life.

The truth be told, Jinaki was exceptional. She knew without the least effort of study mathematical concepts, sciences, and languages far beyond her years.

While Jinaki was warm and radiant when happy, her anger was beyond compare. Those coal black eyes of hers would flash, the golden skin glitter intensely and curls would wave about in a mad display of hues of red. Even the adults would back away from an angry Jinaki. Only the quiet of Fana could calm her.

I liked to think of myself as like a father to Jinaki. And she pleased me by telling me one day "Applejacks, you're special because you understand the uniqueness of the sun, the mountains and the light of day."

Then she spun into an intricate discussion about the sun, moon, stars and beings of which I barely understood. But as always, I listened intently to Jinaki.

In her teens, Jinaki developed a desire for speed that was more terrifying than anything I had known. She would don black leathers, climb on a huge Harley and roar off for the highest peaks. And if this weren't enough, she would spend hours drifting from hang gliders in the turbulent and fickle winds of the Rockies. Fast cars, skis, anything involving speed was subject to attack by Jinaki.

Alarmed I was surprised that Fana took Jinaki's adventures with only a slight smile and saying, "It's only Jinaki."

"But she may kill herself," I would rage.

Fana would laugh and say, "Be at peace Andrew, everything is as it should be."

As I was getting on in years, I thought I would end my days with Fana and Jinaki. So, when the day came that Jinaki greeted me quietly, I was seriously upset. Jinaki was never quiet. I had never seen her in such a state - quiet but not unhappy, in fact, serene.

"Where's Fana?"

"Mother Fana's time has come and she is no longer with us."

"What! Impossible!" Frantically I ran throughout the small house. "No ... why, why?"

"Be at peace, Andrew, she's not unhappy."

"Be at peace Andrew." I've heard it so many times from Fana. How could it be? She had become my life.

Jinaki would not accept sorrow or grief in me. "You must, Applejacks accept it," she said, coming alive again. "For I too must leave."

Now this was too much, not both at once. By this time, I was near hysterical. Again the quiet, "Be at peace, Andrew," almost as if Fana herself had said it.

"I must leave you now, Applejacks. But remember to watch the sun and the mountains. Mother Fana and I will return for you. You, the sun watcher, are special ... remember, Applejacks, ... remember!"

The world seemed blacker than Fana's skin as I slowly retreated from the brilliant Jinaki. How would I live and why?

But I did. Somehow, I got through each day, never forgetting the sun or the mountains. While I was mystified at what had happen to Fana, I knew about Jinaki. She left the mountains to blaze a path that no woman (or man for that matter) has matched. In the space of a few years, Jinaki accomplished unheard feats.

In Indianapolis, she won the 500, the Grand Prix in Paris. She flew in airplane races, speed boat competitions as well as motor crosses. When I heard her interviewed one night, I was overwhelmed to learn that her logo, which appeared on all her racing equipment, was AJ for Applejacks, her special sun watcher.

Needless to say Hollywood did not ignore one of Jinaki's daring, charm and beauty. At the premier of each of Jinaki's movies, I was glued to the screen. Time after time, she turned down suitors. "Marriage is not for me, Applejacks," she told me as a child.

Once early in the morning, when I was feeling especially lonely, I stood facing the mountains watching the sun orchestrate its magic, I heard a roar overhead: a plane, skywriting. How dare it interrupt the sweet morning? Annoyed I looked again. The words were for me. It couldn't be, but it was. Clear against the blue sky: "I KNOW YOU'RE UP TO GREET THE SUN AJ, I'LL BE RETURNING SOON, J."

Frantically I snatched off my hat and waved. Crying tears of sheer joy, I waved until the plane had disappeared and the skywriting melted. It was just like Jinaki, always grand and extraordinary.

However, the events of the new few days drove Jinaki from my mind. The vicious, insane struggle with communism escalated. Both sides appeared self-righteous and assured. The sad sickening thing was so many Americans were convinced our side was right. "We'll stand our ground, we won't back down," they chanted.

And indeed we didn't. In a matter of seconds the evil was accomplished. We were launched into nuclear war.

I felt it was my rotten luck to be at NORAD when the bombs exploded encasing our globe. As soon as our leaders hurled themselves to safety, those mammoth steel and concrete doors slammed shut. From that instant, no one could enter or leave.

My agony was devastating. Jinaki ... Jinaki, I would never see her again. The billions lost, the waste. And there before my eyes the fools who had caused it. Yes, they were alive, well and still believing themselves right and above reproach. The employees cowed before them and treated them as saviors.

Saviors of what, I thought, a handful of mislead humans and a burned out gutted earth! My fury blinded me with hate. Now I've never been a violent man but my anger surged against this stupidity. I wanted to squeeze these smug beings until they popped.

Any thoughts I had at destroying anyone were diverted by the immense rigors of maintaining the city of NORAD. I dared not to think from day to day - my burden was too heavy. I could no longer see the sun or mountain I was but a shell. My inspiration, my glory was no more. I longed for death. This life was useless.

One night about a couple weeks after the bombings, I had a vivid dream about Fana and Jinaki. I heard the old phase, "Be at peace, Andrew." I thought I was just grabbing at straws for peace of mind.

Three days later I woke without knowing why and knew that it had to be the precise moment of the rising sun. I faced east and tried to remember the old exultant feeling.

As I stood there deep in thought, the mountain began to shake and shudder heaving as if to free itself from some powerful alien force. Chaos broke loose. We wanted to believe that it was just an after effect of the nuclear blasts. However, what happened next no one could explain. Those 25-ton doors flew open. Fear gripped each one of us, for we knew no power on earth could open those doors like that.

The light outside and the feeling of complete peace lured me forward. Once at the doors, I shouted for the others. Truly it was a wonder to behold. The sky was broken into fluffy red clouds floating high and traveling with great speed. The clouds extended as they traveled and became streaking red fingers. Thunder roared and echoed across an endless expanse. The red fingers streaked again and again becoming larger and larger until the whole sky was a magnificent brilliant red.

Upon the red wonder sat a number of beings. Immediately I recognized Fana, her stark blackness bold against a red sky.

"Applejacks!" Jinaki was standing besides me and had taken my hand. "My time has come to leave this world. Because, Applejacks, you're special you are to come with me!"

"Applejacks, behold!" I looked to where her finger pointed. In the middle of the sky was a being who was without doubt Jinaki's father. His gold skin glittered and his red hair was bright even against the fiery red sky.

The look in his eyes was not unkind but it arrested us all. We stood in breathless helplessness as he thundered.

"I AM LUCIFER; THE SHINING ONE, THE LIGHT BRINGER, THE MORNING STAR. I HAVE COME TO CLAIM MY OWN!"

At this his fingers stretched earthward toward Jinaki and me. She reached, touched his fingers and was seated by his side. Fana smiled that soft light smile. My face just plain broke into a shameless grin.

The sky began to treble, the fingers started to flash once again. "Oh," I said, "but what will happen to the people who remain?

"Take one look back," Jinaki whispered.

Fana now stood alone in the sky as it was returning to blue. She beckoned the people to come forward from NORAD.

"People of earth because of the sun watcher's faith, Lucifer has provided you with a second chance. Return to your homelands, you will find your love ones unharmed and waiting for you. He has restored the earth and its peoples but not the petty blighted structures of mankind. Fear not for He gives you a true peace."

Slowly the humans stepped out upon an earth that was no longer ravished by nuclear destruction but new, green and pristine.

# SING MY HAPPY FEET

"Twenty-five miles to go now, my feet are getting mighty tired ... but I have to walk on ... la, la, la ..."

Actually, I am not walking twenty-five miles today and my feet feel pretty good. Happily the hardest decision is which trail to walk. Indianapolis has overhauled several trails of various lengths and scenery.

One of the trails, the downtown Canal Walk, brings back memories of my childhood. We children were not sure why the canal was built. It was just a lot of fun following the winding overgrown road beside it. My father told us these roads were called "tow paths" because mules pulled boats down the canal. This certainly added to the fun of walking by pretending to be ferrymen and mules on the canal.

The canal runs about ten miles from Broad Ripple to downtown. Today, three miles from 30th Street to 10th Street have been filled in, splitting the old canal run into two trails, the Downtown Canal Walk and the Central Tow Path.

Far from the overgrown dusty trail of my youth, the Canal Walk is a concrete splendor of walkways and sculpted flowers with a backdrop of downtown Indianapolis. Indeed, even the skeptics who dubbed this city "India-no-place" have to admit that the Canal Walk with its many attractions; the Eiteljorg Museum of Western Art, the IMAX Theater, Indiana Purdue Universities (IUPUI) and the home of the NCAA, is stepping proudly into the 21st century.

Not a cloud in the sky. The bright sunny day seemed to make the canal glitter. Humming my favorite tune, my happy feet are singing as I walked around the fountain at the north end of the Canal. Heading south on the canal, I passed the Indiana Government Center, which turned my direction west. Passed the Pump House, I marveled at the old and new blending into one. The Canal Walk ends at the Indianapolis Zoo and the Botanical Gardens.

Here I picked up the Zoo Walk, which follows White River to New York Street. Although less than a mile, the Zoo Walk is a hidden treasure. It gives the feeling of walking in a private garden. Trees overhang the trail and there are murals that tell tales of the buildings constructed with Indiana limestone. Did you know that the Empire State Building in New York was constructed with Indiana limestone? Shucks, I didn't either until I walked the Zoo Walk.

Arriving at New York Street, I continued north following the river on Porto Allegro Street along the western edge of IUPUI. This leads to West 10th Street. Crossing 10th I was on the White River Trail at about the 18-mile marker. This is a new stretch of path on an old trail. I am truly eager to try out the recently built footbridge over the river. After crossing, one can go north or south back to downtown. I opt to go north passed the Indianapolis Water Company. Still following White River, I laughed at the geese in the roadway. They just stand there taking in the sights while irritated motorists aren't quite sure what to do. Geese in the city are new to us.

The White River Trail in this place is top of a hill, and below, along the river's edge, people were fishing. The contrast of the skyscrapers, geese and fishers makes an interesting study. Truly I think this is the best church where I can feel the greatness that is not man but yet is man.

I came upon 16th Street and while there is a crosswalk, the motorists zoom by without the slightest hint of slowing down. The traffic is fast enough that many will turn around at this point. But today I feel brave and I dash across two lanes to the middle. When it's clear, I hurry to the other side.

Entering Riverside Park rewards my efforts, where on each side of the river are golf courses. Here the walking is truly a pleasure as the river is wide and the greenery lush.

Riverside Park once contained an amusement park. I can barely remember the assortment of rides, cotton candy and the crowds. After the park closed, Riverside picked up a bad reputation as a meeting place for illicit affairs. Thankfully, with turning the parking spaces into trails (and with city and park police surveillance), the rendezvous are giving way to walkers, bicyclists, roller bladders and children.

The White River Trail is about 1.5 miles through Riverside to 30th Street. Across 30th Street is the second part of the canal, the Central Tow Path, which continues five miles to Broad Ripple. But I have walked five miles from downtown and must walk back. And yes, I think my feet are beginning to get tired. So, reluctantly I turn around at 30th Street.

"Five more miles to go now, my feet were getting mighty tired ... but I have to walk on ... la, la, la."

