ing about what I want to be callednaad and what I do not want to be callednaad now

that I am pushing 70. (I will be 69 in April of 2018.) Words matter. And – over
time measured in multiple years – certain words / terms have become increasingly
patronizing because I havenaad over that same interval of timenaad come to think of
myself more and morenaad not as middle-agednaad but simply as old. Prof.
Carstensen is right: By failing to identify with “oldnaad” the story about old
people remains a dreary one about loss and decline. Language matters: We need a
term that aging people can embrace. The following is how I learned how to identify
with “old”naad and also became sensitized to the clandestine insultsnaad usually
well-intendednaad that are couched in the language we use to talk about aging. I
did not begin to think of myself as old until the thrice-damned sciatica hit. That
was during the first week of Septembernaad 2012. Prior to that timenaad I would
regularly go walking 3 to 5 miles 3 to 5 days a week on t

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he Soos Creek Trail a couple of miles from my house. Even if I occasionaly walked 5
miles 5 days a weeknaad even that level of activity felt merely pleasantly
challengingnaad no more. But then in the first week of Septembernaad 2012naad came
the sciatica. (I will spare us both the back story.) In a couple of daysnaad I
went from being able to walk 5 miles a daynaad 5 days a weeknaad to being barely
able to walk across the room without weeping with pain. Through a veil of
tearsnaad I forced myself to exercisenaad firstnaad by walking perhaps 1/8 of a
mile a day 2 days a weeknaad then finallynaad after a couple of years “gutting” my
way up to 2 or 3 miles a day 2 or 3 days a week. Result: by age 63naad I had
learned how to walk like a true and hopeless invalid: stoopednaad taking baby
steps (with subvocal whimpering if I were going uphill)naad and with frequent
rests every several-dozen steps. I believed a wheelchair was in my future. After
roughly five yearsnaad what ultimately saved my cookies was the intervention of an
exc

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ellent chiropractornaad Dr. Steven Ryannaad whose clinic is perhaps 2 miles from
my front door. A life-long skeptic of chiropractic medicinenaad I only saw Dr.
Ryan out of sheer desperation. I am a skeptic no longer. At the end of my first
20-minute session with “Dr. Steve” in early July of 2017naad I walked away improved
more than in the previous 5 years of physical therapynaad acupuncturenaad and
massage combined. So I began to see him 3 days a week in early July of 2017naad
and by the middle of Septembernaad 2017naad I was essentially cured – provided I
did my morning and evening stretching exercises with OCD-like regularity. I can no
longer walk my customary 5 miles a daynaad 5 days a weeknaad but I can do at least
3 miles a day at least 3 days a week. So there is a quasi-happy ending. And if I
extrapolate my present "improvement curve" ... who knows? As the pain gradually
recedednaad what I was left with in its steadnaad like rich topsoil deposited by
the flooding of the Nilenaad was an immeasurably greater abi

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tive standpoint: what not to donaad what not to say. Speaking only for myselfnaad
I hereby admonish one and all to not evernaad under any circumstancesnaad refer to
me as … o A “life-long learner” … Are you familiar with the expression “Damn with
faint praise”? (As innaad e.g.naad “Prof. Stephen Hawking is a competent
physicist” … “Yitzhak Perlman plays a pretty good fiddle” … I think you get the
idea.) Wellnaad there should also be a companion locution: “Insult with faint
praise”. Think for a moment. If your experience is anything like minenaad I would
wager you have never heard the label “life-long learner” applied tonaad e.g.naad a
student in hernaad saynaad early 20snaad who has just finished her bachelor’s
degree in some fieldnaad and has been accepted into a graduate school. Or a student
who has finished a degree in some fieldnaad and is applying to colleges to be
admitted to study a different field for a second baccalaureate degree. I have
never heard anyone in either category called a “life-long learner”. Only o

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ld(er) people. The implication clearly is thatnaad when you walk off the stage with
your diploma and when you are old enough thatnaad because of limited time if for
no other reasonnaad your allegedly superannuated brain is allegedly past its “use-
by” date so that its next subway stop is labeled "Dementia"naad you should simply
stop asking questions that begin with words like like “Why?” and “How?”naad
especially "Why" and "How" questions whose answersnaad if and when you discover
themnaad have no immediate utilitarian value. In other wordsnaad old people cannot
be philosophers or theoreticians. But sometime in 2012naad as a result of a back
story too long to relatenaad I asked for and obtained permission from the
University of Washington law school to audit classes in constitutional law and the
First Amendmentnaad purely on a non-creditnaad non-participatory basis. (The
University of Washington has a wonderful program called ACCESS whereby anyone
above age 60 can audit almost any class at UW for a mere token fee

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I am also not terribly enthusiastic about being described as "spiritual"naad
though in this casenaad my animus is almost purely idiosyncraticnaad rooted in my
personal experience with matters theological and religious. Againnaad the term
"spiritual" is nearly always applied to me with the intent of complimenting me.
Problem isnaad given my historynaad this presumptive compliment often comes across
as telling me I do a killer cosplay-impersonation of Adolf Hitler. Not all the
time. My in-law family -- basicallynaad my Tribe -- almost never uses the "s-word"
to refer to menaad and even when they donaad it is never with that intent. But
thennaad my in-law family is Buddhistnaad not Judaeo-Christian. (And yesnaad I do
understand that the term "Judaeo-Christian" is itself highly problematical. But
let's leave that rant for another timenaad shall wenaad because it is not relevant
at the momentnaad anyway.) When Westerners tell me I am "spiritualnaad"
howevernaad they tend to mean that I have an exceptional affinity with the monothei

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naad lest one get smeared on the freeway driving home from church. Now I see it as
expressing a deeper wisdom: nownaad this momentnaad is the only moment that is
realnaad the only moment we havenaad the only moment we can have. In that
sensenaad and to that extentnaad age is irrelevant. 8 Chapter 2 – The Community of
Readers In Shadowlandsnaad the movie about the courtship and marriage of C. S.
Lewis and Joy Davidman Greshamnaad C. S. Lewis is quoted as saying “We read to know
we are not alone”. I have found multitudes of citations where people quote Lewis
as having said this in those very wordsnaad but have so far found no specific
sourcenaad no booknaad no articlenaad no lecturenaad for this remark. But even if
Lewis did not say itnaad he should have. For in my own personal experiencenaad
there have been instances too abundant to count where this proved to be the case
with uncanny timeliness. The following examples do not even scratch the surface.
But in virtually all cases of where I have been reminded that I am not alon

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enaad this reminder also amounted to a revelation of what I myself thought even at
times when I was not aware of it. Not only was I not aware that other people
thought such thingsnaad I myself was unawarenaad at least on a conscious levelnaad
that I did so. The act of reading is revelatorynaad not only of the thoughtsnaad
beliefsnaad and conclusions of othersnaad but reading also has a way of lifting
into consciousness what I believe. One of the most powerful examples of this
revelation of self through the revelation of othersnaad and probably the earliest
such examplenaad was the first time I read Alfrednaad Lord Tennyson’s great poem
“Ulysses” as an exercise assigned to me and my fellow eighth-graders in Mr. Gordon
Morse’s AP English class at Horace Mann Intermediate Schoolnaad now Horace Mann
Middle Schoolnaad in Wichitanaad KS. I remember going home that night with my
mimeographed copy of the poem tucked inside a filing folder in my briefcase – GAWD
A’MIGHTY … I was a nerd before the word was ever coined! – and

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thleticallynaad and less academicallynaad inclined boys (and their coaches!) in
eighth-grade boys’ gymnaad the restlessness that drove me to pack my telescope
when we visited relatives in the Arkansas wilderness so I could take advantage of
the darkness (we still used kerosene lanterns then) to look at the moonnaad
Saturnnaad Jupiternaad the Pleiadesnaad andnaad with my naked eyenaad the luminous
smudge I later learned was the great Andromeda galaxy. Tennyson and his Ulysses
knew that restlessness a century before I ever drew breath. I was not alone. As C.
S. Lewis insightfully observed in his spiritual autobiography Surprised by Joynaad
Nothingnaad I suspectnaad is more astonishing in any man's life than the discovery
that there do exist people verynaad very like himself. 9 And not just Tennyson.
When I was about the same agenaad maybe even a little youngernaad I discovered
Shakespeare. (I asked my mother then for a copy of Shakespeare’s complete works for
my birthdaynaad which she gave me. I still have that book.) I was

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ially when your love of literature renders you empathetically vulnerable to the
angst of others. Butnaad againnaad as with Tennyson and his Ulyssesnaad the
compensatory benison is an awareness thatnaad emotional rip-tides
notwithstandingnaad at least I knew I was not alone. Eventuallynaad I did grow some
protective scar tissuenaad in the form of a precocious skepticism and cynicism.
One inexhaustible source for this astringently stinging balm of Gilead was Thomas
Hardynaad whose poem “Christmas 1924naad” reflecting on the horrors of chemical
weapons in the First World War recently concludednaad was like mercurochrome on a
raw woundnaad but no less therapeutic for all that. 'Peace upon earth!' was said.
We sing itnaad And pay a million priests to bring it. After two thousand years of
mass We've got as far as poison-gas. The comfort of knowing you are not alone is
not an unmixed blessingnaad however. For I also discovered Ezra Pound’s rage
against the profligate waste of war in his great anti-war -- and anti-usury

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o writers who remain critical to my equilibrium to this day: Albert Camus and T.
S. Eliotnaad both of whom I discovered at roughly the same time as a freshman in
college -- the former in my first philosophy course; the latter just through
independent reading: I suffered greatly from an inability to ignore texts merely
because the course syllabus did not require them. To this daynaad I can recite
verbatimnaad in both French and Englishnaad the opening paragraph of Camus’ The
Myth of Sisyphusnaad from which I graduated to the writings of the Romanian
philosopher E. M. Cioran (living in Paris and writing in French)naad though there
is not enough space to even summarize the latter. The opening sentences of
Sisyphus are (my translation from the French): There is but one truly serious
philosophical problemnaad and that is suicide. Judging whether life is or is not
worth living amounts to answering the fundamental question of philosophy. All the
rest … are games; one must first answer this. And if it is

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– probably most other peoplenaad if we are to believe Camus – just like me. Not
only was I not alonenaad if anythingnaad I was the rulenaad not the exception. But
the problem remained: Camus’ “Why”. Monotheistic religion in generalnaad and
Christianity in particularnaad had long since failed me. I continued going to
church during this time just to please my parents – who werenaad after allnaad
paying the bills for my education – and alsonaad franklynaad out of sheer habit.
11 But for a long timenaad Christianity had felt like an exercise in Dietrich
Bonhoeffer’s “cheap grace” or maybe life in some kind of surveillance state like
North Koreanaad where one is being perpetually evaluated – another “it’s not just
me” experience I skate over for lack of space – and it continued to feel that way
until I discovered both the biography and writings of the man I still consider the
greatest religious poet in the English language: Thomas Stearns Eliot. Suffice to
say that what I found in Eliot was a kindred spirit who also

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saw Christianity as fatally devoid of one of the defining parameters of human –
not just Western or Christian – spirituality: tragedy. The all-consuming glory of
Christ's Resurrection simplynaad as we would say todaynaad "sucks all the air out
of the roomnaad" and thus annihilates all the categories of Tragedy. Christians are
fond of saying Christ's victory is complete. They are right. That's just the
problem: it is too completenaad too complete to leave any room fornaad e.g.naad
Dostoyevskynaad for Unamuno's "tragic sense of life". (So it should not require a
precocious imagination to understand why for a time I buried myself in the writings
of Miguel de Unamuno of the University of Salamanca. But againnaad there is no
time ... ) After 50 years ofnaad not merely readingnaad but living inside ofnaad
Eliot’s poetrynaad from The Wasteland to "Ash Wednesday" to Four Quartetsnaad I
have come to believe that Eliot’s singular achievement is to reconcile the
Christian myth with tragedynaad in factnaad to show that the former

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is incomplete and impoverished without the latter. I have spent most of my life
“decoding” Eliot’s meaningnaad especially of the Quartetsnaad with the
serendipitous help of an experience I had at St. Nicholas Church in Galwaynaad
Irelandnaad and within the Quartets especially of “Little Gidding”. This is
obviously too long a story to even synopsize here. I would only invite you to
embark on the same quest by reflecting on the concluding lines: A condition of
complete simplicity (Costing not less than everything) And all shall be well and
All manner of thing shall be well When the tongues of flames are in-folded Into
the crowned knot of fire And the fire and the rose are one. And if you do
undertake this journeynaad I cannaad from personal experiencenaad promise you: you
will not be alone. In factnaad you will be accompanied by illustrious companions
as a "cloud of witnesses". 12 Chapter 3 – Courage Has a Face AMSTERDAM – It is
impossible to spend any significant time at all in this citynaad i.e.naad more

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than one daynaad and not be conscious of the influence and the sheer perennial
presence of two of the greatest spirits who haunt it most persistently: Rembrandt
van Rijn and Vincent Van Gogh. I spent a lot of time here in the middle 2000s on
business for Boeing’s commercial airplane divisionnaad working out of the
inventory-planning officesnaad at Schiphol Airportnaad of KLM-Royal Dutch Airlines.
In the processnaad I had ample time to visit all the great art museums in the city
– the Rijksmuseumnaad the Van Gogh Museumnaad and the Stedelijk museum of modern /
contemporary art. My wife and I also spent a lot of time herenaad partly on
business when Diane occasionally accompanied me on my business trips and partly for
pleasure. It remains our most frequented city in Europe. This last trip during the
first half of October was no exception. What I took away from this latest visit to
Amsterdam was a persistent sense of moral insight regardingnaad not only the art of
Rembrandt and Van Goghnaad but alsonaad and i

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n a sense perhaps more importantlynaad of the way aficionados of those two great
artistsnaad no doubt inadvertently and unconsciouslynaad often tend to patronize
them when the people who appreciate their art sometimes merge their art with their
biographies in a way that diminishes the stature of the latter. As I wandered
around with Diane among the paintings of Rembrandt at the Rijksmuseum and of Van
Gogh at the Van Gogh Museumnaad it dawned on me thatnaad like many lovers of their
artnaad Inaad toonaad had allowed the art to paradoxically diminish the stature of
the men who created it. To an extent arguably greater than with any other great
artistsnaad people who thinknaad teachnaad and talk about the art of Rembrandt and
Van Gogh almost always segue seamlessly into biography. Of coursenaad this is true
of any great painter or writer or composer. People who love and study the music of
Beethoven cannot help but reflect on Beethoven’s progressively more severe
deafnessnaad a deafness than eventually drove him to cu

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t the legs off his piano so the piano could lie flat on the floor and Beethoven
could lie beside itnaad ear pressed to floornaad and listen to his music via bone
conduction as he composed. But it seems to me that the art of Rembrandt and Van
Gogh is intertwined with their respective biographies to an extent unequalled with
the works of other artists. Alberto Giacometti was a great sculptornaad but I know
of no art critics who merge Giacometti’s works with his life to any degree remotely
approximating the same seamlessness I encounter with Rembrandt and Van Gogh. Ditto
Alexander Calder and his mobiles or Matisse and his cut-outs. We also similarly
tend to keep Shakespeare separate from his plays. But it is much different with
Rembrandt and Van Goghnaad whose paintings are – to borrow a term coined by a late
professor of mine at Tufts – “intrinsicated” with their biographies. A mere stroll
through Rembrandt's paintings in the Rijksmuseum or through those of Van Gogh in
the Van Gogh Museum m

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akes obvious the reasons for this symbiosis of art and artist: both Rembrandt and
Van Gogh bequeathed to us an inheritance of self-portraits unexcellednaad probably
unequalednaad by any other painter. For examplenaad you will search in vain for
any self-portrait by Vermeer among the bare few-dozen surviving works of his that
survive. (The one Vermeer that mightnaad perhapsnaad be a self#portrait is a
painting of an artist -- perhaps Vermeernaad perhaps not -- seen from behind as the
artist is painting a portrait of a subject.) By contrastnaad Rembrandt and Van
Gogh used their faces as a means of reflecting on lifenaad on the random effects
of chance and circumstancenaad and of the effects of both on the artist -- notnaad
it should be notednaad in any narcissistic sensenaad but rather because they both
seemed to consider themselves typical of the Universal Man. (Compare any of
Rembrandt's or Van Gogh's self#portraits with the exercise in self-regard that just
is the self-portrait commissioned by Donald Trumpnaad and

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the difference will be slap-upside-the-head obvious.) This Universal-Man motif of
their works 13 positively invites biography. In factnaad it would probably be
possible to take all their self-portraitsnaad arrange them chronologicallynaad
andnaad in the endnaad have a biography of both artists executed in the medium of
pigment instead of print. The question then becomes of how we react to both the
artists and the art in light of that spectrum of their respective experiences. To
address this questionnaad we have to consider historical issues that lie outside
the purview of the self-portraits. For examplenaad it is important to remember that
Rembrandt lived through the horrors of the Thirty Years War. Rembrandt was born in
1606 and died in 1669. The Thirty Years War began in 1618 and ended with the Treat
of Westphalia in 1648. So Rembrandt's lifetime contained the entirety of this
violent period when most of central Europe was consumed by the violence of
unbridled religious passion. Entire cities an

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d towns were devastatednaad many over and over againnaad by religious conflict.
The Netherlands in generalnaad and Amsterdam in particularnaad were largely
untouched physicallynaad but Rembrandt did live during the time of Holland's war of
independence from Spain. He also lived during a time of the efflorescence of Dutch
culture and economic prosperity. The first line of Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities
could be applied to Holland during this time: "It was the best of timesnaad it was
the worst of times". Both halves of this statement -- violence and peacenaad
prosperity and poverty -- left their respective stamps on Rembrandt himself and on
his work. Both are reflected in his self-portraits. Analogous remarks apply to
Van Goghnaad who lived during a similar time of political and cultural flux. Van
Gogh was born in 1853naad immediately following the great political upheavals that
shook Europe during the revolutions of 1848. He began to flourish as an artist
during the time of the great aesthetic transfor

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mations occasioned by the impressionist movement. But this aesthetic revolution was
not onlynaad or even primarilynaad a greater freedom of line and colornaad but
alsonaad perhaps especiallynaad of subject matter. Like his impressionist
cousinsnaad Van Gogh began to paint subjects hitherto considered inappropriate for
"serious" art: Belgian coal-miners in the Borinage region of southern Belgiumnaad
still lifes of well-worn wooden shoes commonly worn by Belgian and Dutch
peasantsnaad etc. He also began to paint outside: his studio was Nature itselfnaad
not Nature-inside-the-atelier. Both the subject matter and his free brushwork and
use of impasto made his paintings enigmatic at bestnaad ugly at worstnaad to the
upper-class art collectors of Paris and Brussels. (As far as I have been able to
determinenaad he sold -- perhaps -- only one of his paintings to a wealthy
collector in Paris: his Red Vines depicting grape vines in a vineyard. And I am by
no means certain of even that.) Alsonaad like many of his impressionis

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t cousinsnaad his life was not the life of polite society that was expected by
many upper-class artists. (Even before he became an artist full-timenaad he was
summarily fired from his first job as a chaplain to the coal miners of the Borinage
for not dressing the part of a representative of the Dutch Reformed Church:
starched collarnaad cravatnaad waistcoatnaad and good shoes. Vincent had the
scandalous idea that he should "incarnate" himself in the lives of the miners to
whom he ministered by dressingnaad eatingnaad and living as they did. His choice of
an artist's life forever alienated him from his fathernaad a rift that never
healed.) Toulouse-Lautrec painted the bistro life of Parisnaad including
advertisements for fashionable singers and impresarios. Van Gogh lived off the
generosity of his brother Theo and Theo's wife Johanna. (We owe a debt of gratitude
to the latter for the preservation of most of Van Gogh's worknaad and those works
comprise the core of the Van Gogh Museum's collection. And if yo

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u have never seen the late Leonard Nimoy's one-man depiction of Theo and his
response to his brothernaad by all meansnaad run-don't-walknaad locate itnaad and
watch it.) Desperate for love and companionshipnaad Vincent lived with a
prostitute and her child for a time. His letters to Theo are often heart-wrenching
in their desperation for a companionnaad a lovernaad or just a friend. (He
famously held his bare hand over a candle flame while he addressed proposal of
marriage to a 14 distant cousinnaad Kee Vosnaad who rejected him.) But what
strikes me again and againnaad as I wander through the self-portraits of both
mennaad is thatnaad in spite of povertynaad in spite of rejectionnaad in spite of
social isolation -- they painted what they wanted to paintnaad not necessarily
what othersnaad potential clients / customersnaad wanted to see or what those
clients / customers considered "suitable" or "appropriate". That was true of
Rembrandt even during times of prosperity -- Rembrandt was forced to declare
bankruptcy at least twice

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naad perhaps three times -- and it was true of Van Gogh all his lifenaad up until
the fatal suicide gun-shot that ended his life and that culminated with his burial
beside his beloved brother Theo. With both Rembrandt and Van Goghnaad we see lives
of uncompromised and uncompromising professional and aesthetic courage. Their
self-portraits conclusively prove that courage has a face. As should be obvious by
nownaad I admire them both unreservedly and without qualification. The problem I
am left withnaad howevernaad is the reaction of art lovers -- myself included --
whonaad altogether understandablynaad empathize with both artistsnaad but who
allow this empathy to degenerate into something much less charitablenaad something
that diminishes the stature of both men. I think Don McLean's song “Starrynaad
Starry Night” captures just the right blend of empathy and pathos withoutnaad for
all thatnaad degenerating into pity. There is a fine line between empathy and
pitynaad and I fear thatnaad sometimesnaad we cross that line. Empat

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hy is good. But pity belittlesnaad infantilizesnaad and ultimately emasculates
those against whom it isnaad often with the best of intentionsnaad directed. What
we admirers of Rembrandt and Van Gogh often to not understand -- and what we need
to understandnaad perhaps more than anything else -- is that both Rembrandt and
Van Gogh were men of towering strength who were determined to pursue their art at
all cost. And who did so. Even with their talents and their giftsnaad I could never
do what they did. They deserve admiration. They deserve respect. They deserve
empathy. They do not deserve pity. They are farnaad far better than that. They
deserve better of usnaad their admirers. 15 Chapter 4 – Beyond the Bounds of
Realism with Hyper-Realism One of the customary criticisms of what we may
generically call “modern” art is that the bizarre distortions of the figures in
the works – even musicnaad e.g.naad the works of John Cage – render the art
inaccessible to any but the most sophisticated tastes and temperame

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nts. Such critics point tonaad e.g.naad Picasso’s “Les Demoiselles d’Avignon” and
Duchamp’s “Nude Descending a Staircase” as examples of modern art’s alienation
from the public. (The late evangelical Christian writer Francis Schaeffer even
went so far as to argue that “Nude” was actually evil and sinfulnaad because it was
a form of pornography in that it encouraged the viewer to search the image for a
picture of a naked woman!) Compare Picasso and Duchampnaad et al.naad withnaad
e.g.naad the great landscape artists of the Hudson River School and artists of the
American landscape like Albert Bierstadt. The latter we usually call “realists”.
But an interesting phenomenon seems to have been developing since the 70s in that
some artists – I will concentrate on Duane Hansennaad though there are many others
– who pushed the aesthetic canons of realisticnaad representational art to the
point that their realism is so real as to actually blur the distinction between
realism and non-realism … even perhaps even

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something approaching surrealism. The formernaad when pushed to the ragged edge of
its limits as an artistic idiomnaad transitions into something like the latter. At
that pointnaad realism becomesnaad in a sensenaad more real than the real subject
of the painting and becomes hyperrealism. Beginning in the 1970snaad hyperrealism
grew out of the previous movement of photorealismnaad but with some important
differences. Perhaps the most salient difference between photorealism and
hyperrealism is that photorealistic artists like John Baedernaad Ralph Goingsnaad
and Chuck Close attempted to capture and reproduce photographs with great
verisimilitudenaad with no attempt at embellishment or alteration. What
photorealist artists like Baedernaad Goingsnaad and Close were concerned to do in
two dimensionsnaad Duane Hansen attempts in three with his hyperrealistic
sculptures. Howevernaad this is not the onlynaad or even the most importantnaad
difference. Whereas photorealists were usually concerned to depict their subjects
in near-pho

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tographic detail with no attempt at commentarynaad least of all political or
social critiquenaad hyperrealists like Hansen are quite unabashed at incorporating
into their figures an element of social critique and commentarynaad often even at
the expense of representational accuracy. Sometimesnaad in factnaad Hansen’s
figures perceptibly shade over into stereotype and evennaad arguablynaad sexism.
Furthermorenaad it is by no means altogether clear whether Hansen’s intent in
these depictions is parodynaad satirenaad or even elitist arrogance. That intent is
entirely up to the viewer. Considernaad for examplenaad two of Hansen’s better-
known works: “Tourists” and “Housewife”. Seriouslynaad has anyonenaad anywhere
ever actually seen tourists dressed as the two figuresnaad presumably husband and
wifenaad are dressed? I have not. Aloha shirtsnaad yes. Sandalsnaad yes.
Camerasnaad yes. But multiple cameras? No. (I do not knownaad but I strongly
suspect that “Tourists” was created before high-end cellphones with professional-
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hic systems were available.) I have even heard tourists ask dumb questions.
E.g.naad on my first visit to Washingtonnaad DCnaad I was exiting the Capitol after
the usual tournaad walking behind two fellow touristsnaad and heard the wife ask
the husband “OK … we’ve seen the Senate and we’ve seen the House of
Representatives … so when are we going to see the Congress?” Only the desire to
avoid making a scene enabled me to refrain from banging my head against the
wallnaad and thereby attracting the attention of a Capitol guardnaad as I walked
out the East Front. But as to 16 appearancenaad my two politically challenged
fellow tourists looked pretty much as I did in jeansnaad sneakersnaad t-shirtnaad
and carrying a little Instamatic camera. I do not believe that Hansennaad in
“Touristsnaad” is guilty of classism – in this casenaad looking down his nose at
actual touristsnaad but rather satirizing stereotypical tourists in his parody of
typical Washingtonnaad DC – or anywhere else – sightseers. “Tourists” is
vulnerable to this

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ct of the parody is not housewiferynaad butnaad in some parts of the countrynaad a
certain outdated and obsoletenaad but conception of housewifery. As with
“Touristsnaad” Hansen is satirizing / parodying us. His work asks us “Is this
seriouslynaad really what we believe housewives do all day?”: dry their hairnaad
read cheap magazinesnaad and smoke cigarettes? In particularnaad Hansen’s
“Housewife” is an implicit but astringent critique of certain parts of feminism
that see being “only” a housewife as unmitigated drudgerynaad a failure to pursue
the vision of “having it all”. Againnaad and as with “Touristsnaad” the object of
the satire is not the people / person being satirizednaad but the attitudes we
bring to seeing them. A much gentler motif of Hansen’s work may be observed in
works like “Woman Eatingnaad” “Janitornaad” and “Museum Guard”. These works evince
a kind of quiet dignity and their uncanny realism invites us to look – to look at
people eatingnaad to look at janitorsnaad to look at museum guardsnaad all of whom
are m

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ost often almost invisible to us. Furthermorenaad the “hyper” in hyper-realism
impels us to look closely and in detail. I am always fascinated when I encounter a
work by Hansennaad fascinated both by my own reaction and by the reactions of
other museum-goers who encounter those worksnaad it may be for the first time.
Invariablynaad we walk up to the figure – as closely as we can without setting off
alarms – and examine the work as minutely as we can. One of the uncanny
characteristics of Hansen’s work is what I will call scale invariancenaad i.e.naad
no matter how closely you examine itnaad the work always looks as realistic at
small distances as it does from a distance. I had an arresting experience of scale
invariance once at the Museum of Contemporary Art in Chicagonaad wherenaad for the
first timenaad I encountered Hansen’s “Charity Worker”: a statue of a woman
sitting at a tablenaad reading (I think it was) a copy of Reader’s Digestnaad and
waiting for people to drop coins in her collection can for – as I

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or a piece of sculpture or seeing a play or listening to a piece of musicnaad they
are obligatednaad on pain of being branded as culture-phobic philistinesnaad to
wear a facial expression that tells the world Pity me! I am dying of terminal
hemorrhoids! Wellnaad before anyone makes any cracks about that remarknaad I will
back up a step or two and say thatnaad yesnaad to be surenaad some works of art
are explicitly intended to evoke playnaad laughternaad and light-hearted
dalliance. A good example is Carlo Goldoni’s rollicking A Servant of Two
Mastersnaad which I saw performed a few years ago at the Oregon Shakespeare
Festival and laughed until I almost had a laundry problem. Ditto movies like
Singin’ in the Rain and Oklahoma! and plays like Noel Coward’s great The
Importance of Being Earnest. Those works’ very titles pretty much give their
audiences permission to just kick back and have fun. Rathernaad I mean other works
by quote-serious-unquote artists like Shakespeare. Ditto Bach. Ditto Mozart. Ditto
Haydn.

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(Wagner? Well … probably notnaad unless one is enamored of heavy-handednaad
unrelieved Teutonic seriousness. Hence Oscar Wilde’s assertionnaad also attributed
to Rossininaad that Wagner’s music “has some wonderful moments but some terrible
half#hours”.) It might be healthy to look at some great art that that can be
exuberant funnaad but that often evokes reactions of pathological seriousnessnaad
and so too often is greeted with about as much joy as ham sandwiches at a Jewish
funeral reception. Takenaad for examplenaad the following musical compositionsnaad
which positively call for dancenaad concert-hall etiquette be damned. o Mozart’s
“Violin Concerto No. 3 in G” If you can listen to the gracefully galloping first
movement of the “G Concerto” and not at least tap your toesnaad someone should
hold a mirror under your nose because you may very well be dead. (Skip the damned
ad as soon as you can and go directly to the piece.) In an inadvertent waynaad this
YouTube clip was uproariously hilarious: the Pope and me

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mbers of the most senior episcopal leadership of the Catholic Church sitting
stock-still like Michelangelo statues or Egyptian bas reliefs while the music that
was playing in front of them positively demandednaad imperiously commanded to be
danced to … anything except sitting the hell down! The technical term for the
emotion evoked by the first movement of Mozart's “G Concertonaad” Your
Holinessnaad is JOY. Great roaring Joy. You may have heard of itnaad andnaad
nonaad it is most decidedly not a rumor! And insofar as the experience of Joy can
be instantiated in soundnaad Mozart did it. So stamp your feet. Clap. Sway back
and forth in time to the music. Stand upnaad link armsnaad and do synchronized
dance to the music like the women at the old Radio City Music Hall. Mozart was a
genius. But he was a genius at being a child. Get down on the floornaad bathe in
his musicnaad wallow in it shamelesslynaad and be a child with him. In other words
… Mozart’s “G Concerto” invites us to be … born again! Lessee … where hav
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e you guys heard that before? o Bach’s "Brandenburg Concerto #3" 18 Some advice
to morticians … if you want to make sure your client really is dead before you
embalm her or himnaad play the “Third Brandenburg” over a good stereo system in
the embalming room. (Againnaad skip the thrice-damned ads as soon as you can!) If
your client starts to twitch rhythmicallynaad especially in the feet and legsnaad
and maybe wave her arms to the same rhythmnaad put the embalming fluid back on the
shelf and call the paramedics. You just lost a client. I meannaad who “cadaver”
think of such a grave undertaking? I believe it is historically true that the
Margrave Christian Ludwig of Brandenburgnaad for whom Bach wrote this example of
thrice-distilled joynaad accepted the sheet music for all the “Brandenburgs” –
then put the manuscript on a shelf to gather dust for God-only-knows how long. I
do not know if he ever heard it performed. If notnaad his loss. Our gain. o Bach’s
“Brandenburg Concerto #4 My first exposure to B

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ach’s “4th Brandenburg” was in the music section on the mezzanine of the Wichita
Public Library (WPL). I did not have a stereonaad not even a Walkman -- remember
those? -- so I would go to the WPLnaad find a vinyl record of the “Brandenburgs”
and play it and play it and play it and play it. I do not knownaad but I may very
well have worn out at least the grooves marking the first movement of the
“Fourth”. I imagined myself wandering through a virgin landscape of unspoiled
wildernessnaad accompanied by the songs of birdsnaad rendered in the lilting
rhythms of Bach’s incomparable composition. This is another case in point of
knowing whether of not you are alive or deadnaad dependingnaad respectivelynaad on
whether you can resist swaying in time to the movement of the music. If you can
resistnaad and choose instead to observe the niceties of white-collarnaad Sphinx-
likenaad formal immobilitynaad then I feel very sorry for you. Alsonaad againnaad
this is music intended to induce radiantnaad irrepressible joy. There is no vi

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rtue in being able to resist. Unfortunatelynaad all too many concert-goers can do
just that. o Franz Josef Haydn’s “String Quartet No. 4 in F-maj” I have often
thought thatnaad if the European Enlightenment of the 18th century were to have
theme musicnaad much like an American sitcom or dramanaad one could do no better
than to select Haydn’s “F-maj String Quartet No.4” for that purpose. It is
graceful and lilting – butnaad for that reasonnaad also just sheer fun – to a
degree that simply beggars description. Westernersnaad especially Americansnaad
usually stereotype the Enlightenment of the 18th century – the culture that gave
us liberalnaad latitudinariannaad constitutional democracynaad free speechnaad
free thoughtnaad reflexive suspicion of authoritarianismnaad equal rights for
allnaad etc.naad etc. – in other wordsnaad all the valuesnaad principlesnaad and
priorities presently under siege by the likes of Donald Trumpnaad Victor Orbannaad
Marine LePennaad Alternative for Germanynaad and the leave-EU movement that is so
nostalgic for a Europe
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of hard borders and separate currencies like the 1940s – such people stereotype
the Enlightenment as too freenaad too cosmopolitannaad too rationalnaad too far
removed from the Blut und Boden (“Blood and Soil”) derangement that gave us two
World Wars. Haydn’s number-4 string quartet in F-major is a refutation of that
slobbering crudity in the form of music that is no less liltingly graceful for
being compelling. It is sheer fun and dance in the service of civilizationnaad
something the Orbans and Trumps will never understand. But it is not only in
musical art that fun may be discovered. There is also sculpture. One of the best
examples of sculpture-as-fun is a piece I once encountered on a street in downtown
Leipzignaad Germany. If you can look at this piece and not laughnaad then you
really should have your eyeglasses prescription revised. The figure in the
sculpture is evidently marching along the sidewalk in giant goose-steps while
stiff-arm saluting -- but with his -- at leastnaad I am prett

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y sure it is a man -- head discreetly retracted down between his shoulders. Words
fail me. Take a look at the images and see for yourself. 19 In factnaad this piece
illustrates a weapon whose effect on authoritarian peoplenaad ideologiesnaad and
governments is nothing short of subversive: humor. It is the sculptural equivalent
of Alec Baldwin's impersonation of Trump on Saturday Night Live. It is also a
21st-century parody in the tradition of Right In the Fuehrer's Face from World War
II. Make sure the sound is turned on in both your computer and on the YouTube clip
itself.) Furthermorenaad remember that I encountered this sculpture on a sidewalk
in Leipzignaad Germany -- which was once a part of the drearynaad graynaad
dystopian un-Paradise of East Germany until the Wall fellnaad and the Germanys
unitednaad to be followed by an efflorescence of artnaad especially musicnaad
sculpturenaad and architecturenaad the likes of which have not been seen since the
Weimar Republic between the two World Wars. Leipzig was reb

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orn. I know the old Leipzig only by reputation: I was forbidden to travel there or
any Communist country on pain of having my security clearances liftednaad but I
have read a lot about the rebirth of that wonderful city of Bachnaad Wagnernaad
Mendelssohnnaad et al.naad where even the street violinists are world-class
musicians. Part of the art that blossomed in Leipzig would have been sternly
forbidden by its former communist taskmastersnaad who havenaad if anythingnaad an
even more sclerotic aesthetic sense than American museum- and concert-goers.
Communists were about equally inept at having funnaad like other authoritarians --
Trumpnaad Orbannaad et al. The political culture that built the Rundecke -- "Round
Corners" -- the headquarters of the East German Stasi in Leipzignaad would never
have permitted the display of this sculpture in Leipzig. They would have had as
little use for that sculpture as Trump has for Alec Baldwin and Saturday Night Live
-- and for essentially the same reasons. The moral of my sto
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ry? Only this: yes some art is seriousnaad some art is intended to evoke a sense of
sadness and tragedy ... of course ... e.g.naad A Long Day's Journey Into Night ...
but when any work of art evinces or evokes or provokes humornaad playfulnessnaad
dalliancenaad and whimsy -- do not resist it. You will only be that much poorer if
you do. Sophistication and taste do not equate to frowningnaad head-bowingnaad and
chin-stroking. One's aesthetic sensibilities should make room for a goodnaad tear-
inducing belly laugh -- Marx Brothers' Horse Feathers as high art. Saturday Night
Live and A Midsummer Night's Dream can -- and do -- meet and embrace. 20 Chapter 6
– The This-Worldly Iconography of Pierre Auguste Renoir Ever since my first
exposure to it in a Smithsonian Institution art-history seminar in 1979naad one of
my favorite art venues in Washingtonnaad DCnaad has been the venerable Phillips
Collectionnaad a few blocks east and perhaps a block south of the DuPont Circle DC
Metro stop. There are many reasons for my re

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spect and enthusiasm for “the Phillipsnaad” but certainly one of the most salient
reasons for my “evangelical” work on behalf of the Collection is that the Phillips
houses Pierre Auguste Renoir’s great Luncheon of the Boating Party (hereafter
Luncheon). (I refuse to call itnaad as some critics donaad Boatman’s Lunch.
Computers are expensive and I would rather not throw up on mine.) Aside from the
sheer beauty of the painting itselfnaad I enjoy watching others’ reaction as
theynaad no doubt in many cases for the first timenaad walk into the gallery that
displays itnaad all to itself on one wall. Almost invariably – and I’m tempted to
remove the “Almost” qualifiernaad since I can recall no exceptions – the
patronnaad often not realizing that Luncheon hangs therenaad walks into the
gallerynaad turnsnaad andnaad often with hand to mouthnaad softly gasps “Aahhh!” I
was no exception: the first time I saw Renoir’s great worknaad I gaspednaad too.
Over the yearsnaad in looking again and again and again and again at Luncheonnaad
and refle

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cting on my and others’ tendency to stare wide-eyed and gaspingnaad I have come to
some conclusions about why Luncheon elicits such uniform awenaad and what those
reasons tell us about the genius of Renoir and about our sensibilities as art
enthusiasts. For the sake of brevity – for similar examples could be adduced over
and over from looking at the painting – I will restrict myself to a single minute
examination of Renoir’s work. Take a moment and look at one small segment of the
painting. (You may have to copy one of the images of Luncheon in this “Skeptic’s”
column to your hard drive and stretch the image until the relevant corner of the
painting is large enough to follow what ensues.) Look carefully in the
“southwestern” corner of Luncheon and observe the young woman with the red-
flowered hat playing with the little black dog. Look more closely. In
particularnaad look at the eye of the little black dog. Closer still: observe that
the eye of the little black dog is highlighted with
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a single speck of white. After years of visiting the Phillipsnaad viewing the
paintingnaad and viewing others’ reactions theretonaad I have concluded thatnaad
while there are many keys to the spell Luncheon casts over usnaad one of the most
salient keys is that single speck of white in the little dog’s eye. (Remembernaad
nownaad I am concentratingnaad not generalizing. To repeat: there are other keys
to Luncheon and the reason for its effect on usnaad of which that single speck of
white is only onenaad though I would argue one of the most important.) Anywaynaad
consider the following counterfactual / hypothetical. Just for the helluvitnaad
try to reimagine Luncheon precisely as it is – but with that single speck of white
gone. What would the effect be? Without that singlenaad minute speck of whitenaad
the little dog’s eye loses its three-dimension-ality. The dog’s eye becomes just a
flatnaad two-dimensional circle. But with that speck of whitenaad the dog’s eye
becomes three-dimensionalnaad at least in the viewer’s iconic ima

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ginationnaad i.e.naad the dog’s eye becomes a sphere. In factnaad with that speck
of whitenaad the little dog’s eye becomes … well … the little dog’s eye becomes an
eye. A living eye. Without that speck of whitenaad the young woman is basically
playing with a stuffed animalnaad like a very young child. But with that speck of
whitenaad she becomes a young woman playing with a living creature. One step
farther: I would argue thatnaad without that speck of whitenaad the young woman
and her dog couldnaad for all we viewers knownaad be a department-store mannequin
posed to look like a young woman playing with her little dog. But with that minute
speck of white – so exquisitely subtlenaad so eminently over-look-able! – girl-and-
dog become 21 two living creatures involved in an intimate transaction of mutual
love. That “southwest” corner of Luncheon comes alive. But the effect is not
restricted to that corner of the painting. For reasons of proximity of the figures
to one another in the painting if nothing elsenaad that

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vibrant sense of alive-ness radiates outward to the rest of Luncheon. The whole
painting comes alive. I suppose thatnaad in the strictest sensenaad I lied just now
when I said that I would restrict my attention to the speck of white in the eye of
the young woman’s dog. But it was a white lie. The reason the life of dog-and-girl
radiates outward and breathes life to the rest of Luncheon is becausenaad
paradoxical as it may sound in an age that valorizes egocentricitynaad the other
figures in the painting allnaad without exceptionnaad ignore us. There is no
suggestion of animositynaad not the slightest hint of alienation. We are welcome
to observe. But only to observe. Because the other figures in the painting ignore
usnaad they are free to be themselvesnaad to interact as they will. Neither the
viewer nor the painting is bound to the other. Neither painting nor patron is
beholden to the other. That is why the Luncheon lives. In factnaad in a not-
altogether-metaphorical sensenaad Luncheon becomes more than a
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two-dimensional image. Luncheon of the Boating Party becomes a windownaad a window
onto and into the lives of others – which it could not hope to benaad were it
bound to us with aesthetic chains. Luncheon of the Boating Party lives. Which
brings up a point on which the work of Renoirnaad in factnaad many
Impressionistsnaad has been critiqued: its depiction of an idealized world devoid
of tragedy. Has any party of friends having lunch together on a boat ever been as
uniformly happy as the group of celebrants in Luncheon? Has any little girl with a
watering can ever really been as innocent as the little girl with the watering can
in Renoir’s renowned image? As innocent and guileless as the young ballet dancer
in Danseuse? I suppose that depends on one’s experience with boating parties and
with little girls with watering cans. (For the record: I have personally known a
young ballet dancer whonaad at age 10 or 11naad would bid fair to confirm Renoir’s
image in all its purity. But that is neither here

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nor there.) In any casenaad such critiques presuppose the unqualified value of
realism. Leveling such criticisms at Renoir isnaad I thinknaad in many ways the
product of an age and of a civilizationnaad still recovering from two world wars
and still subject to nuclear and environmental catastrophenaad that is no longer
capable of valuing innocence and purity. Renoir had a tragic life. For one
thingnaad severe arthritis crippled his hands when he had years of productive life
remaining for his art. The point? Only that to infer from Luncheon and Little Girl
with a Watering Can that Renoir was unacquainted with grief and pain is a kind of
reverse snobbery that is really unworthy of serious consideration. Renoir’s
purposenaad I thinknaad and his achievementnaad and the reason people still flock
to the National Gallery of Art and the Phillips Collectionnaad isnaad not to
display the world as it isnaad as certainly he himself knew it was notnaad but
rather to image forth a vision of something purernaad or something better

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was confined by the suffocating strictures of hyper-fundamentalist Christianity –
the church I grew up in thought Billy Graham was a dangerous liberal because he
talked with the Pope occasionally … seriously! – and parents with a grossly
over#developed respect for sheer authoritynaad especially church authority.
Basicallynaad my adolescence was eerily similar to what I imagine people go
through who live in North Korea – constantly under surveillancenaad allowed almost
no individual freedomnaad perpetually evaluated by the fundamentalist God (the
Celestial Kim Jong Whoever du jour)naad etc.naad etc. But unlike North Koreansnaad
I had a safety valvenaad an outlet for my frustration: humor in the form of Mad
Magazine satires. Every monthnaad I would scan the supermarket magazine shelves
for the latest issue of Mad and would seize the latest copy. My parents never
objected to buying it for menaad because most of the humor went over their
headsnaad anyway. (Fundamentalists of the early 60s are like all fundamental

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ists of all periods: singularly ill#informednaad undereducatednaad and therefore
devoid of a sense of humor or irony.) They almost never read itnaad and almost
never understood it on the rare occasions when they did. So I would take the latest
issue homenaad go to my roomnaad and mystify my parents with the howls of laundry-
problem-inducing laughter they heard from behind the door. I even bought the
paperback books – The Mad Readernaad Son of Madnaad The Brothers Madnaad etc.naad
etc. – that were often just reprints from the precursor to Mad: EC Comics that
were published before my day. I also waited with bated breath for the yearly
publication of the Mad Annual that reprised many of the articles from previous
issues of the magazinenaad but that I had not read because I didnaad on
occasionnaad miss a monthly issue. I also remember thatnaad in the presidential
election of 1960naad Alfred E. Neuman ran for President under the slogan
"Prosperity with Alfred E.!"naad thereby anticipating by 8 years the candidacy of
Pat Pauls

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t who is neither – like Voltaire’s characterization of the Holy Roman Empire as
“neither holy nor Roman nor an empire”? How do you satirize Sarah Palin’s
interview where she claimed to be able to deal with Vladimir Putin becausenaad on
a clear daynaad she could see Russia from her front porch? How do you satirize a
Republican candidate for the Senate whose antics with underage girls was allegedly
motivated by a desire to preserve their “purity”? Answer: You don’t. Mad
Magazine is lamentably gone because Mad Magazine was too sane for the times. 24
Chapter 8 – Of Magicnaad Miraclesnaad and Faith I like Pope Francis I. His openness
to sexual-orientation minorities and his solicitude toward the poor are in marked
contrast to the hard-line intransigence more characteristic of past Pontiffs.
Church teachings about abortionnaad birth control – the “life” issues generally –
and such matters as women’s ordination and same-sex marriage remain substantially
unchanged. (I say “substantially” becausenaad

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even on some of these issuesnaad the Pope’s recent statements have been
interestingly nuanced. God – so to speak – is in the details.) Bill Maher often
says he strongly suspects that Pope Francis – “Pope Frank” as Maher sometimes calls
him – is actually a closet atheist. (I think Maher is only half serious about such
statements. But the operative word is “half”: I do think Maher is half serious.)
The most recent papal statement to raise such a kerfuffle is his statement denying
that “God [is] a magiciannaad with a magic wand able to do everything”. To people
– even devoutnaad observantnaad faithful Christians – raised in a science-literate
culturenaad this statement is about as under-whelming a sentiment as one could
imagine. But for such people – scientifically literatenaad believing Christiansnaad
especially (though not exclusively) faithful Catholics – Pope Francis’ statement
isnaad in the best sensenaad a bit of a booby trapnaad both epistemologically
(what we can know in general) and theologically

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(what we can know about the Divine in particular). Probably the most immediately
obvious question the Pope’s statement begs is What about miracles? To take what is
arguably the most obvious examplenaad what about the doctrine of the Virgin Birth?
For over two millennianaad orthodox – lower case “o” – Christianity has taught
that Jesus was conceived in the womb of Mary by the direct intervention of the Holy
Spiritnaad and notnaad as with everyone elsenaad through sexual intercourse.
Parthenogenesis – conception without sex – is a trick that would make David
Copperfield’s illusions look like my late Uncle Oscar’s amateur card tricks.
Moreovernaad in the Christian understandingnaad parthenogenesis is real. It
actually happened. It was not a stage illusion. Ditto Christ’s literalnaad
physicalnaad space#time historical Resurrection from the dead – whichnaad St. Paul
saysnaad is make-or-break for the veracity of the Gospel message (I Corinthians
15:16-18): For if the dead are not raisednaad then not even has Christ be

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magic trick all the more impressive for being quite real and not an illusion. In
that latter casenaad we are back to God-as-magician. Similar remarks apply to
evolution – although here there is a closer dependence on physical lawnaad and
therefore evolution is at least marginally more explicablenaad becausenaad once the
process gets goingnaad there is a known set of physical laws to appeal to. There
are some rules to the Game. So from that point onnaad it is a matter of cause and
effect. One does notnaad as in the case of the Big Bang and ultimate originsnaad
have to deal with all the quantum-level paradoxes of causality. But the “magic
quotient” is still pretty impressivenaad even so. How did life first arisenaad
andnaad in any casenaad how did a mixture of chemicalsnaad however complexnaad
resultnaad not only in lifenaad but in intelligent life? Making the raw building
blocks of life is a relatively simple matter of organic chemistrynaad as Prof.
Harold C. Urey and his graduate student Stanley Miller demonstrated in their

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classic experiment: put some chemicals like the ones present on the ancient earth
in a flasknaad run an electrical current through the mixture to simulate
lightningnaad and … voila! … in a few days you will find an organic gunk coating
the interior of the glass that containsnaad e.g.naad amino acids and other
compounds vital to the building of proteinsnaad DNAnaad etc. But it is safe to say
that Homernaad Mozartnaad and the Dalai Lama will not emerge from the flasknaad
even so. Biology is one thing. Sentience is another. Getting from the former to
the latter is a stunning bit of … well … magic – and what is even more impressive
is that this magic is real: the rabbit was never really in the hat to begin with.
What makes the “hyper-magic” trick known as evolution even more impressive is that
evolution and speciation are like chess: virtually impossible to play the same
game twice. I well remember how stunned I was when I read the late Stephen Jay
Gould’s book Wonderful Lifenaad on the Burgess Shale fossil

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deposits in Canadanaad especially the part where Gould says thatnaad if you
started evolution over again from scratchnaad it is highlynaad highlynaad highly
doubtful that the end-result would be anything recognizable as homo sapiens
sapiens. Intelligent dinosaursnaad maybe. No sentiencenaad maybe. Even no life at
allnaad maybe. But homo sapiens sapiens? Possible -- obviously! -- but highly
improbable. As with a game of chessnaad the outcome would be virtually impossible
to duplicatenaad even if you started out with the same set of rules and laws. This
may not be magic in the strictest sensenaad but it will do quite nicely until the
real thing comes along. Finallynaad evolution and the Big Bang asidenaad there
seems to benaad on a livednaad feltnaad and “existentialnaad” level a kind of
incorrigible human yearning for God to do magicnaad our from-the-eyebrows-up
theological assent notwithstanding. I don’t knownaad never having performed the
experiment. But based on my experience in other contextsnaad I would be willing to
wager an arbi

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trarily large amount of money – I’ll even put my Starbucks Gold Card on the line –
thatnaad when the Pope celebrates Massnaad there will be a part of the Liturgy
where someonenaad usually a lectornaad reads the “Prayers of the Faithful” and
asks the audience to respond with something like “Lordnaad hear 26 our prayer”.
Among the prayers of the faithful – I’ve seen no exceptions in all the Masses I
have attended – there will be requests for God to intervene to heal Mrs.
McGillicuddynaad who is hospitalized with varicose veins; to safeguard and restore
to health Mr. O’Malleynaad who has heart problems; to prevail upon Palestinians
and Israelis to live together in peace; etc.naad etc.naad etc. This sounds
suspiciously likenaad their intellectual theologies notwithstandingnaad Christians
are asking God to be a magician and to bring health out of sicknessnaad peace out
of belligerencenaad etc.naad etc. So the Pope’s professed aversion for viewing God
as a Divine Magician seems to prevail only on a theoretical level. In ac

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tual nuts-and-bolts practicenaad religious folks want God to … dammit all! … “Do
somethingnaad don’t just stand there!” – that isnaad for God to be what the old
Schoolmen used to call an “efficient cause”. Maybenaad if we take praying for
“stuff” seriouslynaad even an “instrumental cause”. Of coursenaad the usual
response is to save God from being a Magician by arguing thatnaad of course God
does “do stuffnaad” but that God “does stuff” through human agencynaad i.e.naad
that the true efficient and instrumental causes are human beings acting as God’s
proxy. But in that casenaad Brother Ockham returns to the discussionnaad like
Banquo haunting MacBeth’s feast. If curing Mrs. McGillicuddy’s varicose veins can
be understood and explained only with reference to the skill of doctors and
medical procedures rigorously followednaad ifnaad having taken those therapeutic
factors into accountnaad there is simply nothing else to explain or to
understandnaad then can I not simply delete God and God’s intervention in my
account of Mrs.

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M’s cure? In factnaad and more generallynaad if feeding the hungry is something
humans have to donaad if healing the sick is something humans have to donaad if
comforting the bereaved is something humans have to donaad if giving the thirsty a
drink of water is something humans have to donaad if reconciling warring parties
is something humans have to do … if living life on earth in community with others
is something humans have to do … then why pray at all? Meditation? Awareness?
Mindfulness? Attaining satori / kensho / enlightenment? Yes. Sure. I practicenaad
and can attest to the effectiveness ofnaad vipassana meditation. Others practice
similar disciplinesnaad and can no doubt attest to their value. But in those
casesnaad we are not asking anyone …. or any One … to do any thing … or any Thing
… least of all to be an efficient or instrumental cause for the achievement of
some specific end-in-view. I’m not down on Pope Francis. I’m really not. In
factnaad if you are religiousnaad then I should think that his wo

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rds on God as not a Magician would be welcome. One of the most surefire ways to
steep the planet in misery has historically been to attempt to dragoon God into the
attainment of some specific end whichnaad however worthy it may be (and it often
was not)naad makes God into an instrumental Cause. In factnaad this is a pretty
good hip-pocket definition of “superstition”. The trick is to follow this line of
reasoning with enough integrity to accept all of its consequencesnaad e.g.naad
taking Mrs. McGillicuddy’s name off the prayer-request list. Asking and expecting
God to pull a rabbit out of the hat is just a “hare” too much. (No need to sharpen
your pitchforks ... I was just leaving ... ) 27 Chapter 9 – Medianaad McLuhannaad
and Memory Does anyone besides me remember Marshall McLuhan? Like a lot of other
peoplenaad I was drawn to McLuhan and his writingsnaad beginning as a college
sophomore in the late 60s and continuing into graduate school in the early 70s.
When I was an undergraduatenaad everyone and their

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dog was reading Understanding Media. Sonaad at first just to follow campus
fashionnaad I bought the paperback edition of the book and began reading. I was
captivated from the first paragraph of the first page. In factnaad one of my most
vivid memories of that time is of being in my room in my parents’ house and being
totally engrossed in Understanding Media while a violent Kansas thunderstorm raged
outside. I vaguely remember the air-raid sirens howling holy Hellnaad warning of
an approaching tornado. But I did not come fully awake until my Dadnaad with a few
choice Arkansas expletives invoking Divine assistancenaad interspersed with
scatological references that turned my fundamentalist-Baptist mother’s face
whitenaad literally grabbed me by my wristnaad hauled me out of my chairnaad and
crab#walked me to our basement. The tornado came close to usnaad but never hit
usnaad and I eventually recovered from both the Kansas weather and my sophomoric
(literally in my case) infatuation with McLuhan. Until recently.

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These daysnaad I have come to view McLuhan as a postmodernist prophet whonaad as
St. Paul said of himselfnaad was “born out of due seasonnaad” i.e.naad at least in
McLuhan’s casenaad ahead of his time. This is especially true when we consider
McLuhan in the context of his distinction between “hot” and “cool” media –
McLuhan’s terms – as they are used in contemporary social media and in politics.
Social media – Twitternaad Facebooknaad etc. – are paradigmatic examples of
McLuhan’s concept of a cool medium for a couple of different reasons. First of
allnaad social media are cool because they permitnaad but never requirenaad active
participation from subscribers. Once I define my list of Facebook friendsnaad I
need never touch my Facebook feed again: it is updated automatically. The other
side of the coinnaad the side of the coin perhaps most relevant to politicsnaad is
that I have complete control over the people I invite into my Facebook-feed
universe. In practicenaad this means that my Facebook universe only includes

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people who agree with me in all essential respects – and if anyone disagrees with
me on a make or break issuenaad like the fitness of Donald Trump for the
Presidencynaad I can “vote them off the Island” by unfriending them by editing my
Facebook preferences. (Between the election and nownaad this actually happened
about a dozen times: 6 in real lifenaad and 6 on Facebook. I apparently had more
incipient fascists in my circle of friends than I suspected!) In practicenaad this
means thatnaad over a modest span of timenaad my Facebook feed ends up being an
echo chamber – my own left-wing-progressive (in my case) Fox-News-on-a-laptop.
Secondlynaad precisely because social media are cool in McLuhan’s termsnaad I am –
another characteristic of cool media – spoon-fed content. Some Facebook posts are
substantive discussions of politics – do Trump’s ethical challenges and contempt
for the law spell a looming constitutional crisis? – while others consist of high-
def pictures of friends’ lunches and the usual cro

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p of great-danes-napping-with-kittens tableaux … a bricolage of images juxtaposed
by Facebook that I do not control. And the “b-word” – bricolage – brings us to
politics. And not just politicsnaad eithernaad but rather the entire world in
postmodernist terms. What I see on my Facebook feednaad what McLuhan (perhaps
unwittinglynaad though I don’t really think so) prophesied back in the early
70snaad is the 28 world as seen through the fractured lenses of the postmodern
sensibility: the World itself as the ultimate Cool Medium for a couple of reasons.
Firstnaad etymologicallynaad the word bricolage is derived from the Old French term
for catapultnaad i.e.naad capturing the sense of an object made from disparate and
unrelated pieces that are simply catapulted or thrown together; secondlynaad
because the pieces pre-existed and did not have to be creatednaad bricolage also
connotes the idea of being spoon-fed the separate pieces which were already lying
ready-to#hand and that one then more or less passively combin

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es and lets fall together as they will with no or minimal intervention. Think of a
painting by the late Jackson Pollocknaad who laid the canvas on the groundnaad and
then dribbled paints of different colors from cansnaad perhaps with a flick of the
brush at mostnaad but who otherwise allowed the paint to flow and drip on the
surface as it would. A late Jackson Pollock painting – he had been a painter for
some time before developing the iconic technique usually associated with his name
– may be thought of as bricolage with pigments. A late Jackson Pollock painting is
actually a depiction of the world writ small. More particularlynaad it is the
world of discourse / language writ smallnaad and even more particularlynaad it is
the world of politics writ smallnaad perhaps even smaller. As for the world of
language and discourse ... that is far too large and complex a topic to tackle in
a brief blog postnaad requiring probably at least one PhDnaad perhaps more than
onenaad in a virtually opaque field like postmode

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a foxhole in France while the chaos of the First World War raged around him.) Each
discrete "language game" -- Wittgenstein's termnaad which Lyotard borrowed --
proceeds according to its own criteria and protocols -- including the language
game known as science -- and also possesses its own conception of what constitutes
truth. Which finally brings us to politics: in particularnaad to politics as
bricolage. The alt-right has mastered bricolage ... and Donald Trump himself is
the grand master of bricolage. George F. Will and I do not agree on muchnaad but
we do agree wholeheartedly with Will's remarks in his 3 August 2016 column: What
Winston Churchill said about an adversary — “He spoke without a notenaad and almost
without a point” — can be said of Donald Trumpnaad but this might be unfair to him.
His speeches arenaad of coursenaad syntactical train wrecksnaad but there might be
method to his madness. He rarely finishes a sentence (“Believe me!” does not
count)naad but perhaps he is not the scatterbra

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in he has so successfully contrived to appear. Maybe he actually is a sly
rascalnaad cunningly in pursuit of immunity through profusion. He seems to
understand that if you produce a steady stream of sufficiently stupefying
statementsnaad there will be no time to dwell on any one of themnaad and the net
effect on the public 29 will be numbness and ennui. Sonaad for examplenaad while
the nation has been considering his interesting decision to try to expand his
appeal by attacking Gold Star parentsnaad little attention has been paid to this:
Vladimir Putin’s occupation of Crimea has escaped Trump’s notice. Examine the
public utterances of virtually anyone carrying Trump's ideological DNA -- Marine
LePennaad Geert Wildersnaad Nigel Faragenaad et al. -- and younaad toonaad will
concludenaad as I think George Will is beginning tonaad that the European
Enlightenment is basically overnaad in particularnaad its valorization of
claritynaad rationalitynaad and cogency of discourse. Or at leastnaad the West has
paused for a (we may hopenaad his

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torically brief) moment to catch its collective breath. For this runs deeper than
mere rhetorical incompetence. It reflects a whole world viewnaad a Weltanschauung
at diametric variance with the Enlightenment ideal of coherency: the World itself
is seen as bricolagenaad as comprising a cool medium thatnaad for all our vaunted
technological virtuositynaad is essentially beyond our control. John Donne spoke
more truly than he perhaps knew: "And new Philosophy calls all in doubt; / 'Tis
all in piecesnaad all Coherence gone". McLuhan would have understood. 30 Chapter
10 – Portrait of a Marriage Every several yearsnaad perhaps every decade or sonaad
a work of art captures my emotions and imaginationnaad and sticks in my memorynaad
even though it may be several years between viewings – assuming I ever see the
original of the work at all. One such is Renoir’s Luncheon of the Boating Party;
another is Rembrandt’s Slaughtered Ox; anothernaad Picasso’s Guernica; still
anothernaad Edouard Manet’s The Old Musician. I ha

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ve never seen the originals of the Rembrandt and the Picasso. I know them only
from reproductions. But they haunt me. I recently discovered another such image
while visiting the National Portrait Gallery in Washingtonnaad DC: Patricia
Cronin’s Memorial to a Marriage (hereafter Memorial). Memorial is a bronze
sculpturenaad cast from a marble originalnaad depicting two women loversnaad lying
in bed wrapped in one another’s arms in a gentle embrace. I am still processing
the emotions evoked in me by seeing this powerful work a few weeks agonaad but I
think … I think … I am at the point where I can at least attempt a synopsis of the
complex feelings. The sculpture – I will concentrate on the bronze in the National
Portrait Gallery – depicts the sculptor Patricia Cronin reclining on a bed with
her lover – now wife – artist Deborah Kass. That phrase “lover – now wife”
contains in suspension all the feelings seeing the work precipitated in menaad and
why I stood there in that gallery staring at it wi

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th such single-minded fixation. The first is a feeling of profound peace. In
factnaad the phrase that came to mind as I stood in the gallerynaad near to
tearsnaad contemplating the work was that famous line from Dame Julian of Norwich’s
Shewings of Divine Love: “All shall be wellnaad and all shall be wellnaad and all
manner of thing shall be most well.” Yet intertwined with this feeling of peace
there wasnaad paradoxicallynaad a feeling of deep sadness and tragedy – and
angernaad even rage. Because Dame Julian’s writings are embedded in a religious
tradition – in this casenaad Catholic Christianitynaad but the following can be
said of all forms of Christianity historically – that has for two millennia
contorted itself ethically and theologicallynaad and exerted its political and
cultural influencenaad precisely in order to make sure thatnaad for gay and lesbian
peoplenaad “all manner of thing shall [quite decidedly not] be most wellnaad” in
factnaad not well at all. That is whynaad on a deepnaad almost visceralnaad
levelnaad Memorial

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is can be viewed with profound ambiguitynaad why it is so susceptible to
differentnaad even oppositenaad interpretations. What Cronin has achieved with
Memorial is to subvert – while simultaneously reminding the viewer of – the long
tradition of funerary artnaad especially funerary sculpture. Because of the
semiotic kinship of Memorial with funerary sculpturenaad even as people who
support marriage equalitynaad LGBTQ rightsnaad etc.naad celebrate the marriage of
Deborah Kass and Patricia Croninnaad we are reminded thatnaad had the politics of
LGBTQ rights played out differentlynaad the same work that celebrates the mutual
life and love of these two heroic women could easily have been the grave marker
demarcating the Nation’s retreat from full equality for people with minority
sexual orientations. Like all people of good will who take seriously the
Constitution’s and the 14th Amendment’s guarantee of equal rights and equal
protection of the lawnaad I want very much to see Memorial as an unambiguous
celebration

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of life for people like Patricia Cronin and Deborah Kassnaad because I have many
friendsnaad many of whom I consider familynaad who are gay and lesbian. But I am
also realistic enough to know that vicissitudes of culturenaad politics – and
religionnaad especially religion – could also end up rendering Memorial as a
tombstone – like the tombstone marking Matthew Shepard’s grave. 31 Hence the rage.
The gay playwright Jean Genet once said “A person’s position in bed is no one’s
business but his ownnaad” a principle that nownaad by the 21st centurynaad should
be self-evident. But this issue is still undecidednaad even in the wake of Supreme
Court decisions like Windsor and Obergefell. Those crucial battles have been
wonnaad but the war is far from over at the Federal level. At the State levelnaad
so-called Religious Freedom Restoration Acts continue to proliferate about as
virulently as the current measles epidemicnaad andnaad at least in more
conservative / “red” Statesnaad people still get exercised about which bathro

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om trans students may usenaad even though no cases – as in zero cases – have ever
been recorded of trans students assaulting their heterosexual classmates. So just
as the history of civil rights oscillates between hope and despairnaad in an
analogous waynaad as I stared at Memorialnaad my interpretive / semiotic faculty
oscillated between rage and joynaad both reactions occupying the same affective
space in my consciousness even as I looked at Cronin's work: rage at ongoing
efforts to curtail full equality based on sexual orientation by State legislatures
purporting to defend religious "freedom"; joy at the salient victories won bynaad
e.g.naad the litigants in Windsor and Obergefell. But I remind myself that such
oscillation has always been the case when the Nation deals with the question of
whether it has the moral courage to apply its own Constitution consistently to all
oppressed and marginalized groups. During Reconstructionnaad the initial election
of African-American candidatesnaad most of whom

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were former slavesnaad to elective office oscillated with the subsequent corrupt
Compromise of 1877 that made possible the withdrawal of Federal troops enforcing
the Reconstruction Amendmentsnaad thereby making possible the rise of the Jim Crow
Southnaad and the rise of white-supremacist organizations like the Ku Klux Klan.
We may very well be experiencing a similar period of moral oscillation in dealing
with the issue of LGBTQ rightsnaad specifically marriage equality. Cronin's
Memorial to a Marriage is located squarely on the fault line where the two
political and moral tectonic plates collide: one plate advancing the restriction
of LGBTQ equality; the other plate celebrating and promoting it. As I looked at
Cronin's great worknaad I experienced in my imagination the cultural quakes
induced by this opposition. I alternated between seeing Memorial as a monument to
marriage equality andnaad a moment laternaad seeing at as a marker memorializing
the death of same. I am committed to seeing Memoria

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l as celebratory. Butnaad at the same timenaad I am realistic enough to know that
celebration can turn to mourning if the national Zeitgeist once more favors the
ostracism of sexual-orientation minorities. That is why Cronin's work haunts me:
it is not clearnaad at least to menaad which part of that opposition will prevail.
So perhaps the real value of Memorial is its function as a warning against
complacency. 32 Chapter 11 – Poetry and the Limitations of Memor(y/ization) Prof.
Molly Worthen’s recent reflection on the paucity of emphasis on memorizing poetry
resonated with me very stronglynaad though for reasons she did not account for in
her recent op-ed piece in the New York Times. Based on my own experience spanning
an academic lifetimenaad I would suggest a different approach that could render
memorizing poetry more relevant and even more pleasurable. My methodology is very
simple and straightforward to describe andnaad perhaps for that reasonnaad quite
effective: instead of emphasizing rote memo

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rization of poetrynaad instill a love of the text itself. Learn to love Hamletnaad
love it to the point that you read it over and over again during a lifetimenaad and
memorizing the great soliloquy will most likely take care of itself. Above allnaad
learn to reflect on your life experience within the enclosing context of
literature. Herewith some personal examplesnaad which include both poetry and
prose. The first time I can remember that a literary text revolutionized my life
was whennaad in 8th-grade AP English in the early 60snaad Mr. Gordon Morsenaad
teaching English at Horace Man Intermediate School in Wichitanaad KSnaad where I
grew upnaad one day handed out to his class mimeographed copies of Alfrednaad Lord
Tennyson’s great poem “Ulysses”. I had always hadnaad even at that callow agenaad a
restlessnessnaad an intellectual wanderlust. (I think that my one signal
achievement in the American educational systemnaad in factnaad is that I managed
to emerge from junior-high school with my capacity for gratuitous passionate

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curiosity intact. Many are not so fortunate.) Thanks to Tennyson’s “Ulysses”naad I
realized that I was not alone. A poet writing in Victorian England was writing
about me. I remember cloistering myself in my bedroom that night and skipping
dinner … just to read that poem over and over again. (To this daynaad those few
occasions when I smell mimeograph fluid always evoke memories of Tennyson’s
“Ulysses”.) Now I can recite it by heartnaad not because I sat down and
deliberately memorized itnaad but because awakened passion did what a brute
determination to memorize could not. In my twenties and into my early
thirtiesnaad I was subject to periods of dangerously black clinical depression and
abject panic attacks. That I am no longer thus tormented I credit to being married
to a woman who is uniquely proficient at just putting up with me. But it was not
always thus. During that grim timenaad I would turn … yes … to Hamlet’s soliloquy
and escape possible suicide by remembering Hamlet’s haunting que

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stion about “what dreams may comenaad when we have shuffled off this mortal coil
must give us pause”. I continued living precisely because I was more disposed to
“bear those ills [I] have than fly to others [I] know not of”. I also read
multiple dozens of times Albert Camus’ The Myth of Sisyphus in my first
undergraduate philosophy course at Wichita State Universitynaad and can still
recite from memory the opening paragraph about suicide being the “only truly
serious philosophical problem”naad and why ancillary questions are just “games”. I
do not know when I realized these texts were so intimate a part of me. As with
“Ulyssesnaad” I just “woke up” one day and realized they were. Over timenaad in
both cases and in both cases because those texts had become so “existentially”
important to menaad I had memorized the text without consciously realizing it or
intending to. The crisis was intensifiednaad in factnaad nearly rendered
hopelessnaad when I discovered T. S. Eliot’s pre-1929 poetrynaad e.g.naad “Hollow

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Men” andnaad of coursenaad The Wasteland. Both werenaad on vastly different scales
– 33 “Hollow Men” on the level of individuals; The Wasteland on the level of the
whole of western culture – autobiographical in the sense of being descriptions of
my own self-perception during this periodnaad i.e.naad when I was an undergraduate
and early in my grad-student years. We are the hollow mennaad / We are the stuffed
mennaad / Leaning togethernaad / Headpiece filled with straw. Alas! … Thanks to
The Wastelandnaad I also understood intuitively and from the inside the vapidity of
Madame Sosostrisnaad famous clairvoyante … the wisest woman in Europenaad but
behind whom stands only A heap of broken imagesnaad where the sun beatsnaad /
And / the dead tree gives no shelternaad the cricket no reliefnaad /And the dry
stone no sound of water. But fortunately for menaad at some point in the process
of dealing with my predisposition to depression and intermittent suicidal
ideationnaad I discovered T. S. Eliot’s post-1929 poetry. (The “magic” yea

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0 1 This e-book is offered to you as a free download. You are welcome to share it
and give it to others provided you do not in any way alter the book or its
electronic file as this would be in breach of copyright restrictions. You are
encouraged to share this work with as many people as you like in its present form
and for free. Insights into NATURE SPIRITS And EARTH ENERGIES © 2022 Annette de
Jonge o0o Other e-books written by this author Psychics and Séances: A Journey to
Understanding We Are Not Alone: Extraterrestrial Encounters New Perceptions of
Realitynaad Book One and Two have been updated and are now In Search of Reality
Books One and Two. Other e-books to follow in the In Search of Reality series o0o
spiritwritings.wordpress.com dejay19@hotmail.com 2 Acknowledgments. I wish to
dedicate this e-book to my editor and good friend Patnaad without whose belief in
me and constant encouragement this book would never have been published.
Appreciation also goes to the teachers who made

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ng a Tree 40 Suggestions on How to Connect With the Nature Kingdom 41 Part Six The
Mineral Kingdom 42 Locked Within a Crystal 43 An Energy Inside a Crystal 44 Part
Seven Four Different Elemental Types 45 The Gnomes of the Earth Element 47 The
Sprites of the Water Element 48 The Sylphs of the Air Element 50 The Salamanders of
the Flames 52 Part Eight Of the Earth and the Stars 53 The Unknown Others 55
Temperamental Earth Energies 59 Chains of Command 61 Part Nine 2023 An Update on
World Changes 63 5 Introduction. This first section of this e-book was written in
2011 but its relevance still holds true today. Of particular interest is the
significance of the information given then to what is happening now with the rising
concerns over the Earth changes from climate activists and others. More recent
informationnaad 2023naad has been included to update some of the communicated
information. o0o My communication is with a forum of spirit communicators who come
from different energy dimensions i

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om and then perhaps go to the changing earth energies. Instead this particular
group of spirits chose a different way and voiced their concern at what they see is
our disregard and disrespect for Mother Earth. They then went on to encompass what
wenaad humanitynaad can do to assist our planet andnaad in doing sonaad empower
ourselves. After their discussions I was left remembering we are all one energy
manifesting in different forms and ways and what affects one energy will affect
all. The spirits communicating were more succinct in their vocabulary ' a sinking
boat is a sinking boat irrespective of who is on board.' o0o ...we have several
layers of skin like the Earth's crustnaad feathers and hair that grow like the
grass and trees on the Earth's surfacenaad veins and arteries beneath our skin
that act like the underground rivers and streamsnaad flesh like soil and bone like
rock. We also produce little streams on the surface of our skin when we perspire or
cry. Author Unknown 6 Part One Empowermentnaad

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Conservation and the Earth Energies Enjoy the little things in life for one day
you will look back and realize they were the big things. Kurt Vonnegut o0o The
spirits who first responded to my question in this forum voiced their consternation
over the welfare of our planet Earth. They sought to draw our awareness and
understanding to how humanity has lost touch with and respect for the land that
sustains and nourishes every one of us. They suggest a better way of living that
will enhance and empower all. o0o I have read that down the aeons people of all
nationalitiesnaad mainly country people have been able to see the nature spirits.
It is known that there are peoplenaad gardeners with green thumbs who worknaad
consciously or notnaad in collusion with these spirits. I would like to discuss
this topic today and what you referred to when you previously said contact can be
assured. Then we go that way. Contact in the right 'spirit' of the way is
interacting with the landnaad the native land th

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at is all around you. You are part of this land while inhabiting the third
dimension. It is part of younaad your heritage. Many havenaad alasnaad forgotten
this and much damage has been done to the natural world. Many of your
offspringnaad your childrennaad have no contact now with naturenaad a world that
nurturesnaad houses them. It is part of this we are referring to but there is more
to be considered here. We also speak of the abominations being brought about in
the name of progress. We see and feel shame for your wonderful world. Your Mother
Earthnaad like any mothernaad loves you. She nurtures you and gives you her best.
Why do you go this way? Many people are becoming aware of what is happening but
unfortunatelynaad they have very little voice and very little power or control to
prevent it. That is not the way at all. You are all sentient beings. You have all
the power in the world. It is when you give your understanding of your power away
that you become useless. Are we speaking about the polit

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. You are letting others influence and dictate to you your way of thinking and of
life. None of this is needednaad necessary. All you have said so far are excuses.
It is not the way sentient beings act. They maintain at all times coverage over
their own thoughts and deeds. Then what are you suggesting we do? 'Shape up'naad
as you saynaad and stop hiding behind excuses. You are quite capable of seeing when
you are being mentally manipulatednaad yet you choose to turn away and ignore what
is there for you to consciously be aware of. Take controlnaad regain possession of
your senses and not be this way. How does this affect Mother Earth and the nature
spirits? We can answer that. In many ways you affect your Mother Earth and those
energies that look after her needs. You cannot go on as you arenaad being careless
of her needs. It will soon enough come back to haunt you with dire consequences to
you all. Is there an environmental or conservationist group speaking today? I
thought we were going to be t

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r they are able. It stems from younaad physical younaad all of you who are
careless with your thoughts and your deeds. In what way do you mean? Do not
empower others to think for you. You are all sentient beingsnaad in chargenaad
responsible for your actions and thoughts. Be that way. What about our thoughts
creating our reality? Can't we change our thinking to bring about change? Nonaad
that is not the way. You need to apply yourself first for change to be. You cannot
sit or lay abed (think?) and expect it to just happen. You need to take charge for
any activity to eventuate. Younaad your civilizationsnaad need to see this to
change what is happening. Isn't it just the affluent civilizations that are
creating this problem? There are many places on our globe where the populations
there are struggling just to exist. They do not have enough food to feed themselves
so don't have any luxuries to waste time on. That is the way and use that example
that is in your mind now (I was thinking of the terribl
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e drought conditions in Ethiopia). These civilizationsnaad their areasnaad were
not always such as now; as dust bowls with infertile soil. They once were verdant
growing fields of lush produce for all to see and benefit from. Yesnaad I do
understand that has happened but wasn't it brought about by climate patterns
changing? Where the rains stopped coming and so the crops died? That has been the
way in many instances but againnaad we reiteratenaad nothing happens on Mother
Earth without some human influence of sorts. It is so that weather can change but
what brings it about? I don't know and would like that question answered but it is
getting late and I need to finish now for today. Can we continue our conversation
tomorrow? It can flow along that line. We are intent on showing you your
magnificence and your power which you have given away. We wish to re-empower you
so to say and in achieving this unpalatable truths may emerge. We still go that
way. We leave you now. Until tomorrownaad peace an

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d blessings be yours now and forevermore. Thank you. 9 Throwing Down the Gauntlet.
We make a living by what we get. We make a life by what we give. Author Unknown.
o0o Wellnaad you have thrown down the gauntletnaad figuratively speakingnaad for us
to shape up and take responsibility. I would like to know how to go about this.
You said you would show us and our discussion could go that way today. We can show
you the way but firstnaad are you ready to do the hard work on yourself? Are you
ready to empower your knowledge of what is 'right' and 'wrong' that you see? Is it
going off on a different topic to asknaad 'right' and 'wrong'? Isn't that
judgmental? Doesn't each person have different points of view on that? What seems
'bad' to me might seem 'good' or insignificant to someone else? Yesnaad that is
the way it is. Howevernaad it does not change one whit what we are about to say. A
sinking boat is a sinking boat irrespective of who is on board. All suffer the
same fate. It is along this way we see th

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ings shaping for you all. You all need to change but firstnaad little steps. You
become aware and change; others also become aware and change. It goes along this
way. Would you mind elaborating on that because I am not sure on what you are
saying here? I can change but othersnaad the majoritynaad might not hold the same
opinions and would continue on with impunity and with little regard for what is
happening around them. But you will start to see a groundswell as people do become
aware. There are already plans underway to make changesnaad big changes for the
betterment of all. It will come aboutnaad rest assured on it. There are many who
have started a movementnaad if you see it that waynaad which will bring about
change. It is what we were referring to previously where we stated that a
groundswell has taken place and will continue on. But who are these people?
Courageousnaad fearless peoplenaad ignoring public opinion have gone against the
mainstream and started this swell. It was ignored at first b
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utnaad bit by bitnaad by continuing onnaad their movement started to gain
credibility and they had a sway on public opinion in this way. It was by their
unfailing dedication and a belief in what they were achievingnaad what they were
doing was 'right' in their sight that it became 'right' in othersnaad many others’
sight too. We want you to choosenaad to go this way too. It is in this outlook that
your Mother Earth can stop being abused and will once again heal herself with the
help of her ministering angelsnaad nature spirits and all. I am agreeable for that
too but see flaws in this argument you have put forward. Herenaad in Australianaad
we have a political party who may have started out altruistic and believing what
they proposed butnaad to my mindnaad have now become too political and the ideals
they founded seem to have either gone by the way or have taken on other issues that
seem to have created an imbalance of power. It may be the way it is at present
but you will find that it all balances out in the

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but would also like it to include our choices and the ramifications on this third
dimensional plane. Do you have any preference? Nonaad either way will be
acceptable to us because they will reconnect further along the way. Finenaad then
let's stay with the example of a rock. Rocks may start off as part of a mountain
but become dislodged and end up down the bottom of the mountain. They could be
carried away by floods to another area. That is presumably what the spirit in the
rock wants to experience when it happens. It will eventuallynaad possibly within
aeonsnaad naturally end up as dust or sand. I am assuming that whatever size and
shape it ends up or goes through the spirit is experiencing this because it chose
to. Is that correct so far? Yesnaad it is the way. But that doesn't always happen.
Sometimes rocks are blown apart as part of progress. To move mountainsnaad build
roads and other things. Wenaad humansnaad as spiritnaad also have energy
bodiesnaad an ethericnaad astral and others. What happens to

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the rocks energy bodies when theynaad the rocksnaad have been altered in such a
way? Maybe now are only sand and dust? Yesnaad it can go that way where they are
altered beyond recognition but listen well; they are merely a third dimensional
shape at this juncture. Theynaad spiritnaad remain intact. They do not lose any of
their spiritual countenance. Spirit does not change. Only matter changes in this
instance; matter that came from the third dimensional Earth and will remain that
way - always. So the spirit in the rocknaad no matter how much the rock changes
shapenaad cannot be altered or changed in any way? That is the way it is and will
remain. You are dealing with issues here little known to you yet. You understand
yetnaad you understand not. We are explainingnaad trying to get you up to speed so
we can move past basics to learning 'real' issues that will empower you. By all
means ask these questions. They will stand you in good stead further along. Is the
spirit in the rock able to leave at any time?
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If you recall you are sentient beingsnaad spirits who require or desire different
experiences. Theynaad like you in a physical bodynaad can leave or stay. Whichever
way it suits their needs; they come and go as required. Wellnaad that opens up
another question about the rock. Does the incarnated spirit in the rock stay in the
rock all the time? Can it stay experiencingnaad being the rocknaad but come and go
as desired - sort of out and in at will? That may be the way. We have never
incarnatednaad experienced being a rock so our influencenaad 'input' as you saynaad
may be flawed here. But we cannot see any way that it cannot come and go as is
desired. It is not the same way as a spirit experiencing being a human being. You
need to keep part of you at all times with the vesselnaad your physical body. 12
Your answer opens the door to many questions to be answered on that topic but we
will stay with the earth energies and the nature world for now. That is the way;
dedication to duty and to learning. Do we eve

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ts ground. Rosa Parks. o0o There is a current concern of mine you might like to
assist me with. We grow vegetables and flowersnaad but because we live in an
apartment unitnaad need to have large garden boxes. The first year of our planting
everything grew very well. Howevernaad despite all care and attention with
fertilizersnaad waternaad sunlight and wind protectionnaad the second year they
didn't do very well. Why was this so? Because the soil is not fertile. What you
have purchased is not of the sort to encourage growth. I might have to disagree
with your statement. We buy the best compostnaad add manure and then fertilize the
soil but despite our best efforts the plants still don't grow as well as if they
are in the ground - that is despite rotating the crops or spelling the boxes crop-
free for a time. And the reason why: they are not planted in the ground. The plants
need the proper nutritionnaad what the soil has accumulated over time. It has
bacterianaad microbes and all the necessary components

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to assist the plants to reach their proper growing fruition. It cannot be the way
when the soil is depleted of these elements that have taken perhaps epochs to
establish in the soil. Unfortunately the gardening communitynaad gurusnaad are
not aware of this yet and continue on clearing old forests of their trees and
expecting the soil that has been processed from them to behave as it had with the
soil that nature has established over time. By adding additions you hope to
replicate nature but it cannot worknaad it is doomed to failurenaad because it is
not the waynaad does not have the 'proper ingredients' as you say. That will
probably be the way of the future with gardening. You will find that lovingly
tended plants from gardeners who have an affinity with nature and soil does not go
this way. They tend their charges and give them love whichnaad by the waynaad
replaces many of the nutrients lacking in the soil that was artificially created.
‘Green Thumbs’ they are oft-times called and it is th

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rigines portraying space beings who had visited Australia. To reach the first
gallery of rock art meant we had to climb high up into the cliffs; quite a
struggle through dense undergrowth and intense heat to reach the paintings
sheltered in a shallow cave. Once there we were able to sit on the rocky outcrops
and admire the primitive ochrenaad white and black drawings of mammalsnaad fish
and spirit people that were sketched over the walls and ceiling of the cave. The
rudimentary human formsnaad painted as white shapesnaad have what appears to be a
bubble or helmet drawn over their headnaad similar to those worn by our present-
day astronauts. Our guide had mentioned that for the local indigenous peoplenaad
the white figures were representations of the spirits of the storms that lashed
the area. While listening to our guide I sensed there the presence of a spirit
energy nearby. It didn't appear to be coming from any of the paintings in the cave
so moved outside and went looking for the sourc

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e. Just outside and slightly to the left was an image on a rock. It was made by
nature: rain over time had darkened a section creating an image. The energy was
coming from it. It is common knowledge that people see images in nature that don't
exist but this was different in as much as the energy or presence could be felt
coming from the rock. Despite my sending out tentative thoughts of communication
he appeared quite oblivious to us being there and didn't give any response. When
later looking at the photo the image was as seen but the energy felt when taking
the photos was not there. 15 Laternaad in reply to my query my spirit teachers
said the energy did indeed exist as an inter-dimensional one and henaad the
bearded aboriginenaad was an overseer of the land there. With my present level of
understanding don’t know how it works but accept what was told to me. It was as
stated. Thank you 16 Queen Mary Falls. The only source of knowledge is experience.
Albert Einstein. o0o Another ind

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igenous experience happened at a completely different landscapenaad this time on
the east coast of the country. It occurred at Queen Mary Falls in Queensland. A
friendnaad also a keen photographer and I were staying for a few days at a cabin
near the falls. To take advantage of the late afternoon light we set out along the
path to the falls while it was still daylight. My friend was leading when suddenly
a spirit group of six aborigine men appeared to my inner vision. They had spears
and other hunting equipment but were not holding their weapons in a threatening
gesture. Insteadnaad they just stood at the side of the track and observed us.
Remembering what an aboriginal friend had told me about spirits of her ancestors
staying on as custodians of the land I said mentally that we were not here to
hurtnaad damage or take anything. We just want to enjoy your area in peace. They
didn't respond but gradually faded out of my sight. They never appeared again while
we were there. Could you enlarg

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e on this experience please? Yesnaad it as you stated. They are indeed custodians
of the land they once inhabited. They are there as a protective measure for the
land. But how can they act or serve as a protection for the land? My friendnaad
who is not psychic and has a scientific mindnaad would ridicule what had happened
if told. She knew nothing about the indigenous spirits and the majority of tourists
visiting the area would be equally unaware. It is the way. Theynaad the
custodiansnaad seek not to do physical harm but they have their ways with dealing
with malcontents who damage and degrade the land. Those people do not stay long in
areas such as this. They cannot identify with the emotionsnaad the feelings that
are there. Powerful magicnaad if you choose to see it along that linenaad can be
instigated against malcontents making them uncomfortable and eager to move to a
more conducive area. You did not go that way and gave due respect and honor to
their land and their ways. You were free to come

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and go as you choose whilst there in their domain. Thank you. I do understand
that it is possible to pick up energies from an area and have come to the
understanding that it is not necessarily good or bad feelings resulting from
something that has gone on before in the area. They do not necessarily have
negative or positive attachmentsnaad they just exist. That is the way it is. There
are peoplenaad humans who flit in an area and are gone but there are energies that
linger longer and they oft times do not relish human beings with their particular
energies infringing (impinging?) on their domain. It is the way it is with mighty
rivers and with mountains sometimes. They are not hospitable at all and strangenaad
to younaad things can take place at these sites. It is best at these times and
these places to leave well enough alone and not to go seekingnaad thrill
seekingnaad absconding from common sense and sanity. It will not be to your
advantagenaad your goodnaad to challenge them there. There have occ

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asionally been experiences like that even though we were not going to harm
anything. One country area we were driving through on our way to see a waterfall
felt really creepy and threatening the further we travelled into it. It unnerved us
so much that we turned the car around and drove back the way we had come. There was
no indication if something horrible had happened there and imprinted unfriendly
earth energies. Howevernaad we have never had any desire to go back. 17 The
area just mentioned was in a valley surrounded by mountains. Perhaps our feeling at
the time was from the energies of the terrain or the waterfall as we came closer.
What would cause the feeling we had? We are not being specific to your experience
with our answer because everything contains energynaad some more elementary than
others. Those of the mountains and Alps can be benign or rascally depending on
their moods at any one time and yesnaad they do have personalities and moods. Some
like strangers to visit; to

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climbnaad walknaad picnic and the like. Others cannot be bothered and see it as an
intrusion. You have heard of situations where people have gone for walks on a
beautiful sunlit day only to find themselves lost as a suddennaad thick mist rolls
in to engulf themnaad sometimes with tragic results. That is the kind of powerful
energy able to be asserted by the less than friendly ones. Are waterfalls the
same way? Nonaad they hold a different energy altogether to that contained in the
mountains - more benevolent. They see their task is nurturing to the landnaad the
rivers and streams that flow from them; more of a feminine energy in this way. Then
what about volcanoes? 'Bad press' as you say is often given to volcanoes and not
always deservedly so. They have their temperaments like the mountains but they
also have inner irritants that need to be disbursed. We don't mean as a third
dimensional person has a wind and needs antacids or the like to rid what is to them
an ailment. This is not the way wit

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arlu Karlunaad understood to be what the local inhabitants call the area. By now
it had become obvious to me that the trip was part pleasure but also to work with
the earth energies so expected to feel something there but didn't. This was put
down to too many people there at the one time. The opportunity arose again later
when was travelling through the area by car. Our arrival at the site was very
early in the morning before any crowds. I wanted to photograph the natural light
reflecting off the boulders. My camera was a recent purchase but one that had
become quite familiar with use. There were only one or two other tourists there
and after photographing the scenes My intention was to take an overview of the
Marbles. To do this meant a walk to a small man-made rise a short distance away. I
focused the camera for the shot but before the image could be taken my digital
camera started to whir and make funny sounds like it had wheels and cogs. Checking
it over it seemed okay so

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hoped for the best while taking the photo. Wellnaad the camera worked as it should
so took my photo and everything was fine. Nownaad your opinion please on what
happened then. That was indeed earth energies at work. You were at a sacred place
to the indigenous inhabitants of your land. They held sacred and in trust what was
there. They knew that the energies were all around and you were given 'a touch' so
to say of what was coming forth from the ground. It had been disturbednaad the
area you stoodnaad and it was indeed what you felt. Energies not pleased with
being disturbed. But the shifting of the earthnaad the pile of red soil was part
of the work intended to enhance the area or widen the road. It was to allow
tourists greater access to what was already there. To your mind it was the way.
To those who still remainnaad who inhabit the land it was an infringementnaad an
invasion of their territory and rights. It is sacred land to the local tribe and
many have fought over that land. In this way

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it has enhanced the sacredness of that terrain. From previous experiences such
as these mentioned it becomes apparent that unseen life is all around and we do
ourselves a disservice when we look no further than the tip of our noses and accept
only what our five senses tell us. Thank you. 19 Longreach's Ancient Past. It is
better to change an opinion than to persist with a wrong one. Socrates. o0o I would
like your opinion please about an experience that occurred when a group of us
travelled on a train/coach trip to inland Australia. The train had terminated at
the town of Longreach and after dinner I was lying on my motel bed just relaxing
prior to getting ready for bed. I was awake but had drifted into an altered state
of consciousness whennaad with my inner visionnaad saw line after line of
different species of Australian animals walking left to right across my field of
sight. In the parade were huge kangaroosnaad wombats as big as cows and an
assortment of prehistoric animals. What

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was not known to me at the time but later learned was that there is an abundance
of ancient fossil remains in the area. My question now isnaad why did these animals
appear to my inner vision and in such a line-up? Because that is the way it was
there. You were seeing a release of energies from the past parading by for your
perusal. It was a gift of sorts to you for you were able to see and acknowledge
them there but if you hadn’tnaad they would still have continued their parade. You
were now consciously observing them. There were other energy feelings experienced
while in the area and my spirit communicator at the time said I was helping to get
rid of ancient energies. When queried if they were from any altercations between
the native tribes who once lived in the area and the white people was toldnaad
nonaad they went back a lot longer than that. And that it the way it is. You have
just said 'is'. Does that mean it is still continuing? That is the way. Are these
energy releases because of

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rtex would be appreciated. We can go that way. Yesnaad what you saw was part of
the natural occurrence that happens at many parts of your world and is nothing to
worry about. What you refer to as a natural phenomena. o0o Thank you. A slightly
different experience to the one at my friend's home in Mapleton happened a few
months later. This incident also relates to the earth's blue energy release but it
happened in Western Australia and it took place while touring with another friend.
Reading the tourist information of what to see in the area we decided to go to a
local small dam nearby. We had quite a way to walk along a narrow sandy track from
the car park to the dam and as it was a weekdaynaad we were the only ones there. I
didn't feel comfortable with this and as we walked through the thick bush kept
watching out for snakes. A combination of the heat and the long walk made me very
tired so after taking a few photos of the dam decided to rest on a nearby seat.
My friend went clo

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hieve. It was how it was with you at this instancenaad which is why. It was
different with the energy you mentionednaad the one you did see because you were
relaxednaad not anticipating this to occur. It is always therenaad rest assured on
that. The energy is never ending for it is a release of sortsnaad one that goes on
and on. Others have also indeed been able to see it too but were they looking at
the time? That is the way. You mention release. What is the release from? It is
all aroundnaad the releasing of energies from the earth. It is not only at sacred
sites and such. There are manynaad many places that activities such as this occur.
Some are felt very strongly and some are seen to be the way. It is all a natural
occurrence and will continue. It is incompletenaad this energy shiftnaad and will
continue on until it is no longer needed then it will cease. Okaynaad then while
still at Sedonanaad we walked around the shops. It was a hot day and we stopped for
an ice-cream. I felt very strangenaad againnaad sudde

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day of looking at local sites. We were tired so after dinner went back to our
roomnaad prepared for bed and turned off the light. As soon as my eyes closed the
image of a male Indian was there. I knew instinctively he was waiting for me to go
to sleep and to go somewhere with him but being very tired from our excursion
mentally said 'no'. Howevernaad he ignored my request and stood there silent and
stillnaad waiting. My impression was that he was very powerful; a shaman if that
is the local term. He wore a long winter tunic or attire I had never seen before.
The garment appeared to be made out of soft leather like chamois. On or around his
head was something smallnaad less flamboyant than feather headdresses often once
seen worn by American Indians. I tried not to go to sleep but without realizing
hownaad did and then it was morning. Would you like to explain what transpired? We
can go that way. Yesnaad as you statednaad he was waiting for you. You both had
some magicnaad if you likenaad to perform toget

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emoved'naad shall we say. We are speaking about energies with this but you know
the way. You made a pact so to say with himnaad this shamannaad and he answered
your calling. Thank you for your information. It gave me an insight and much to
think about. 25 Then we go that way. Peace and blessings go to you now and
forevermore. Thank you. 26 Part Four Nature Spirits Images of Nature Spirits as
they go about their business are rather elusive. Those included in this book are
either from my pictures taken or ones I have downloaded free from Pixabay. o0o A
human being is a part of the whole called by us universenaad a part limited in time
and space. He experiences himselfnaad his thoughts and feeling as something
separated from the restnaad a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This
delusion is a kind of prison for usnaad restricting us to our personal desires and
to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves
from this prison by widening our circle of compassion

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to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty. Albert
Einstein o0o There are many other unseen energies and their inhabitants intertwined
within our third dimensional reality. This section relates to some of the
different types of inhabitantsnaad the little people of the nature world; those who
nurture and take care of all we see growing in our gardensnaad our forestsnaad and
all part of our present reality. They encompass the nature spirits of fairiesnaad
elvesnaad gnomesnaad elementals and others who take care of the environment and its
inhabitants but there are also others. Discussions with the teachers will
encompass some of those other energies who minister specifically to Mother Earth's
needs. They are the energies whose domains take in the oceansnaad mountains and all
that we see in this reality. Sharing with you my various incidents might jog your
memory enabling remembrance of similar ones you have experienced. It is also to
encourage all readers to extend their pe

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rceptions past their normally functioning five senses and see and experience for
themselves a wonderfulnaad vibrant other reality with the tiny inhabitants going
about their daily activities; living their life mostly in complete oblivion of us
living ours. 27 It is one thing to hear about these other realities that coexist
with us but how do we achieve going beyond our five senses way of seeing so we can
see them for ourselves? And when an altered state of consciousness is mentionednaad
what does it mean? It is often suggested to soften our gaze or eyes but how is
that achieved? All questions are valid to attain our objectives and the answers are
better understood if we realize that our normal sight is like a camera lens where
we focus on an object to see it clearly. However it is not used to see other
normally unseen realities and their inhabitants that coexist with us. It is when
we focus intently that our eyes act like laser beams so the little nature spirits
hide to avoid being bur

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ned. Theynaad the other unseen inhabitantsnaad are noticed more often when we are
in a daydream state. It is then our sight is less focused and we have activated
and are using our third eyenaad or brow chakra and not our physical eyes or sight.
Because we are so used to seeing by using our physical sight to look outward at
some object and our inner perception is similar that we may think we are still
looking outward but it isn't so. It can even be better to connect with and see
hidden realms with eyes closed. We can achieve success in activating whichever of
our five senses we use by first imagining a scenenaad something like we do in a
meditation. In this way we initiate our brow charka or inner vision. Any connection
or seeing can be spontaneous; as we immerse our self and thoughts in the beauty of
our inner surroundings. This changes our vibrations and sets the mood or stage for
any connection we achieve. We have five senses to work with on this dimension but
not all people connect to

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other realities in the same way and any of the five senses can be activated at any
time. As an examplenaad when a friend and I would go for a country walk near our
homes we would find a comfortable spot to sit quietly and absorb whatever was
there in an attempt to shift our consciousness so we resonated to a different
vibrationnaad more receptive to seeing any nature spirits. My friend used to
sense/see while my inner visionnaad clairvoyancenaad was activated. At the time my
understanding didn't encompass just how my friend could see in her way but when we
relayed back our experiences it was the same image being seen. I still don't
really understand my friend's way of seeing but think it must be somehow like
vision impaired people are able to 'see'. Others have mentioned intuitively
'feeling' what is there and it activates their inner vision in some way. They
didn't know how it happens and perhaps it could be that it is somehow done through
their aura. Perhaps it is a little like blind p

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color of clothing being worn by one of the nature realm inhabitantsnaad the size
of treesnaad anything being seen. If you cannot make any changes then you are
successfully activating your inner sight. My awareness of seeing other normally
unseen realitiesnaad is as statednaad done by my inner vision but is often first
noticed as if it is from my normal side vision. My attention then brings whatever
is being seen forward and the images appear to the front as with normal vision. 28
The fairy spirits who are working in our gardens usually don't take any notice of
humans as they work busily behind the scenes. However they will respond to
harmonious and loving thoughts directed at them by those who appreciate the work
being done. A woman client previously unknown to me came for a consultation. We
sat across from each other andnaad as we talkednaad chit chat to relax her and for
me to connect to her energynaad my inner vision was activated. The image shifted
from my consulting room to my client's back

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yard and as the image was relayed to the womannaad she was able to validate what
was being said. Her yard was small and everything growing looked healthy and
verdant. What was also been shown were the fairiesnaad their beautiful little
ethereal forms almost translucent in the sun. My client had no idea there were
fairies in her garden but was happy to hear they were there. She said a lot of
time was spent in her garden as she tended the plants. 'My happy place' she called
it. There is a misunderstanding that fairies shun places where crowds of humans
are going about their daily lives; busy cities and favor the natural landscape
more. The nature spirits are wherever their charges are and will respond to human
thoughts. It is said that they can be mischievous if provoked and some activities
in a home thought of as poltergeist activities may well be caused by the nature
spirits responding to disharmony in a home. Nature spirits of the four elements
are able to change their size an

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d will do so to suit their needs. They can do almost anything within their own
element but cannot change to another element. A gnomenaad for examplenaad cannot
change into a fairy or visa-versa. Each country is said to have nature spirits who
often like to look and clothe themselves as the people of the area. I have not
seen any dressed in modern clothing and have never seen any country's indigenous
nature spirits. Any seen by me were wearing in what we recognize such as
leprechauns and from children's story books. So as an overview: the nature spirits
and those of the four elements are ethericnaad not of this third-dimension reality
even though they look after the natural world here. For each one of the four
elements of earthnaad airnaad fire and water are nature spirits and elementals
that are created from and belong to the ethernaad an element finer than the air we
breathe. But there are others. 29 A Little Green Something. Live in the
sunshinenaad swim the seanaad drink the wild air. Ralph Waldo Em
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erson o0o I would like your opinion on what happened to me during a meditation. In
the meditation I was wandering peacefully along a rain forest path. It had
filtered light along the way and leaves had come off the trees and made that
lovely earthynaad compost smell. Wandering by a small embankmentnaad I sensed a
little green something fall in just behind me and stay there. From out of the
corner of my eyes it seemed to be about nine inches tall andnaad from memorynaad
was dressed in green leaves. I continued on with this little energy seemingly
walking somewhere behind me and finished my meditation. I didn't think any more
about it until weeks later when visiting an alternative healer friend to have some
energy balancing done. It was she who mentioned this little earth energynaad a
nuisance she said that saps a human's energy and is very hard to get rid of. I had
forgotten about the incident but part of the reason for my visit to my healer
friend was because of depletion of energy. She

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managed to remove the little energy but it took her took some time. Nownaad it
was during a meditation when the little energy attached itself to me. I was in an
altered state of consciousness so how was the little energy able to attach itself
and affect my physical body? Just because you were in an altered state of
consciousness does not alter what we are about to say. These altered states of
consciousness are very much a part of your existence here but your consciousnaad
earthly sight mainly blocks them from your countenance. This is done because it
would be too confusing to you to see all around and not function in the way you
have become used to in this physical body. These altered states are still 'you'
and remain that way therefore even though you cannot see them with your present
physical sightnaad they still exist and you can be attacked and have attachments as
was the case you enquire about. It is through these 'altered states'naad if you
likenaad that your healer friend was able to

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nging as a child might. 'Lanaad de danaad de da' was coming from the bush as its
top jigged to and fro. Possibly it thought no one could hear its happy little
tunenaad because it stopped in apparent shock when I mentally spoke saying 'Hello
little lavender. You seem happy today’. I waited for the bush to continue its
happy song but it stayed quiet so I moved on. You were able to contact the energy
of the lavender bush and allow it to acknowledge your understanding of its way.
Unfortunately it was shockednaad because never before has a human being responded
to any gestures made by itnaad let alone its melody. You communicated one to
onenaad but it was not able to respond because it didn't know how. You can and it
can't. Do you understand? I think so. Thank you. 31 A Gathering of Gnomes. There
are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The
other is as though everything is Albert Einstein o0o At one time our small group
took part in a meditation at a cottage somewher
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e near the base of Mt Warning in New South Wales. It is lush country with
mountains surrounding a deep valley. We had finished our meditation and our small
group were standing on the verandahnaad having a break while drinking freshly made
chai tea. We were talkingnaad nothing too intensenaad just enjoying the atmosphere
and beauty of the area. We were very relaxed and without realizing it I was
looking with my normal physical sight but also with my inner vision as well.
Standing on the verandah with us and listening to our words of appreciation were
maybe half a dozen gnomes. They were about four feet (1metre 20cm) and were
dressed in belted deep green long shirtsnaad over long pants that were tucked into
boots. They came over to me andnaad curiousnaad patted my energy body. Would you
elaborate on this experience please? Yesnaad what you saw was indeed a small
bandnaad gathering of gnomes. They are the instigatorsnaad the energies that look
after the wild life as well as the vegetation. They were there a

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furnish that. He was indeed the spirit of the tree. He did as you saw but he also
does much more. He tends to nearby trees alsonaad those who are in his care. He
provides sustenancenaad of the type coming from the earth or the sky (rain?) but
other sustenance - more of an energy power boost so to say. In Australianaad like
other parts of our worldnaad we have droughtsnaad floods and bush fires. Treesnaad
like usnaad have their allocated time here. How does this all fit in with what the
gnome does and where does he go in times such as those mentioned? It is all as you
say; there is a time-frame allocation for all. But againnaad we speak of other
issues here. He is there to minister to the trees' needs. He does not fuss when
they are subject to invasion of the insect kind. He does not fret when his charges
die for he knows the limits of earthly matter and is of accord. He goes on to other
needsnaad other treesnaad ministering and issuing his charges with health and
well-being. Then if any of his charges are

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e spirits dress to suit the appearance or colour of their charges? Yesnaad that is
the way it is. They dress this way to accommodate the needsnaad the varieties of
all their charges. Sonaad if there was vegetation that was mottlednaad shall we
saynaad they [the gnomes and elves] would dress of accord. Is that as a camouflage?
It might go that way but we think not. It is more as an accommodationnaad an
affinitynaad if you like that they dress this way. Sonaad when forests are cut
down in the name of progressnaad how does that affect the nature spirits? Where do
they go when their charges are gone? Againnaad we are going to speak of other
avenues you may not have considered. Their charges are gonenaad yesnaad yet
theynaad the nature spirits as you refer to themnaad live on. They do not go away.
To your sight they are gonenaad but it is now replacements of energies of other
sorts that have existed in time but now come to the fore. They minister to their
needs now. I don't understand and would appreciate more informationnaad ple
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ase. Then we go another way. There are other energies that are all around.
Sometimes progressnaad by natural progressionnaad brings them to the fore. It is
this example we are referring to. Your Mother Earth is not staticnaad nor is she
unable to adapt to changes that are wrought upon her countenance. Sometimesnaad in
the case you refer tonaad they are needed to move her on to her next stage of
development. We are statingnaad do not see all changes with progress a blight upon
your Mother Earthnaad for it is not the way. Many times progress is needed for
changes to take place for allnaad the human race included. It would be a sad day
and world if everythingnaad all energiesnaad did not grow. 35 Do you not see this
with your seasons? Your treesnaad plantsnaad shuck off their leaves and go into
hibernation of sorts. They then manifest again in the spring in all their glory to
behold. It is the way it is meant to be and younaad human beingsnaad are a part of
a glorious plan; a plan that moves all forward. What about all

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the damage wenaad as humansnaad are doing to Mother Earth? What about the animals
we displace? Some species we are told are now extinctnaad some dying out even and
wenaad like themnaad are the losers? What about that? Yesnaad you can see it that
way but we show another way. We do not condone wanton slaughter upon your planet
but what we do say is that necessary changes need to be. Your dinosaurs are an
example of progress taking place. Many other species have been and gone the same
way. It is all part of natural progression. And younaad humanitynaad are set to
follow on one day. It is how it is with all. The nature world and their mentors are
of the same kind. Theynaad like younaad are destined to come and go as a natural
progression of all. They do not go away and are forgotten. They live on but in
another waynaad just as younaad earthlingsnaad are the same kind. You go
forwardnaad progress naturally and it is the way it is all meant to flow. Thank
you. 36 How do the Nature People Produce Offspring? Just when the cate

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g the two ratiosnaad so to say. In this waynaad with thisnaad the elements are
served because each contributes what they are capable of and what they achieve is
brought about by a communion of sorts; each contributing to the all. It is
understandable that the earth energy little people are not created as humans are
and understandable that we each have what the other lacksnaad so we supply each
other with what is needed or required. You also meant that we humansnaad because
we come from the starsnaad that means our energy bodies are lighter than the nature
spirits. We incarnate to other places than Earth while the nature people stay on
Earth. Did I get that right? Yesnaad succinctly. Do they incarnate then? In the
right and proper way for themnaad but not necessarily as for you earthlings. Not
meaning to sound difficultnaad but you called us earthlings. Isn't that a bit
confusing to have usnaad as light beingsnaad being called that while the nature
spirits could be considered more along the way? Am I being too

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way. They start out along the lines you saw. Older ones were along that line all
along. They did not change with age. The 'younger ones'naad as you saynaad were
also along that way. The elves are a different breed again. They do change over
time but thinknaad have you ever seen an older elf? Nonaad but there was never any
thought about it until you mentioned it. What happens to them? Do they age? We feel
now we have you scratching your headnaad metaphorically speaking so we will leave
it for another day. Thank you. 39 Following A Path Little Understood. Worry is
like sand in an oyster; a little produces a pearlnaad too much kills the animal.
Marceline Cox. o0o Do all the insecticides and chemicals we have used over the
years and continue to usenaad have they decimated the nature spirits of gnomesnaad
elves and fairies as it has done to the beesnaad the birds and insects who are so
necessary for our survival? Nonaad it is not the way. You are thinking third
dimensional and the little folk of the forests ar

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e not third dimensional although they take care of the nature world you inhabit.
They are saddened by what they see but understand it is what you call progress
and needs to follow a path you are little understanding. Your answer truly
surprises me. Are you saying that while they are not condoningnaad they are
accepting of what they see? Yesnaad it follows a path they understand for they see
how nature changes seasonally and to their mind they accept that this follows the
same way. They don't hold us responsible? Nonaad why would that be the way. They
follow the laws of naturenaad of the seasons and this follows the same way. Thank
you. It is something I have long wondered about. 40 Part Five Hugging a Tree.
Sometimes people are beautiful. Not in looks. Not in what they say. Just in what
they are. Marcus Zusak o0o This is not my experience but would like your comment
please. A friend rang to say that she believes she may have felt the energy of a
tree that she hugs each day. The treenaad a spl

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endid specimen of a gum grows in her garden and as the woman passes itnaad she
wraps her arms around the treenaad gives it a hugnaad and thanks it for growing in
her garden and attracting the birds. She said that this morning when she followed
her normal thanking of the treenaad she was resting her body against the tree and
could hear a gentlenaad continuous 'shhhh' sort of noise coming from inside the
tree. My friend ruled out all other possibilities and believes what she heard was
the inner working or sap moving up the tree. Your comment would be appreciated
please. It is the waynaad as your friend described. It is of the life-force of the
tree going about its daily tasks of connecting the tree to the earth whilst
feeding it from the elements above. The elements above? Do you mean the sunnaad
perhaps rain and all the planetary influences happening at the time? It is as it
is. She wasn't also connecting to the gnome who looks after the tree? It may be
the way that she enabled herself to relate to t

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he earth energy elemental. It is a way of connecting it is also a possibility that
it was not that way. We were not there so not privy to this activity; we are giving
an overview of what can transpire. Thank you. I will pass your comments on to my
friend. 41 Suggestions on How to Connect With the Nature Kingdom. Have you ever
heard the earth breathe? Kate Chopin o0o Believe in the 'little people'naad the
elementals in their various forms andnaad with the right vibrations or harmonies
coming from your energy field it is possible to make contact with the nature
kingdom. Practice mindfulness or meditation to help still your wayward mind and
help harmonize your energy field. Achieving the right harmonies may be as simple
as connecting with nature; walking in parksnaad gardensnaad rain forestsnaad by
oceansnaad streams and appreciating the natural world that is all around you. The
nature world is tended to by their particular elementals and being in and
connecting with their domainnaad observing admirin

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gnaad gently touchingnaad and hugging trees offers benefits to your health. Sit
quietly to connect. Feel the breezenaad the sunnaad the rain on your body. All
have their healing properties for you and open you up to the elementals of the
nature world. It is best to keep an open mind and don't dismiss anything you see
as 'merely imagination’. A movement out of the corner of your eyenaad a shape or
image in nature that resembles a gnomenaad elf or fairy may well be one of those
and serves as a window into the nature kingdom. Throughout this e-book I have
shared my inner sight experiences and they are offered to serve as an interest and
guide for you. Howevernaad don't despair or give up if you are not visual because
your way of interaction might be by way of one of your other inner senses.
Perhaps your attempts activate your 'inner' ear. If sonaad you will hear how
fairies have little voices that do sound like tinkling bells. With the right
vibrations from you they may communicate with you. They can o

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n and ask. o0o One Rock's Journey. There have been personal experiences of feeling
and seeing the energy in some minerals. For examplenaad a rock that came down from
a mountain in a storm and was in a field when found. As it was cupped between my
palms could feel a verynaad very slow beat or rhythm from it. It wasn't a
heartbeat but possibly more of a beat connecting it to the rhythm of Mother Earth.
I saw with my inner vision how the rock had begun its journey to ultimately
stopping at the floodplain where it was found. It didn't feel as if it had a soul
inside. Could you enlarge on this please? We previously spoke of spirits (souls?)
capable of entering into the rock if they required or needed the experience of
formingnaad being part of the rock. We did not say all rocks had souls. It is not
the way. Some souls decide that the experience will enhance their earthly learning
in some way and so become a part of the rock. Others choose a different way. Thank
you. 43 Locked Within a Crysta

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l. My wish is to stay always like this living quietly in a corner of nature.
Clause Monet. o0o Another experience was with a friendnaad Bernie. Bernie was given
a beautifulnaad large crystal by another friend of his. That friend said the
crystal was too masculine and she didn't feel comfortable with it. When I visited
Bernienaad he asked me to hold it and give him my impressions. I did and 'saw' two
different experiences in it that appeared to relate to Bernie's other lives. One
of the experiences seen enhanced a later visit Bernie made to England and because
of the information learned from the crystalnaad he was able to finish events that
he had started in one of the other lives seen. My questions won't be asking about
that today but my first question to you is: Bernie didn't purchase the crystal;
his friend did for herself so how was Bernie's experiences able to be seen in the
crystal? Yesnaad it is so that your friend Bernie had an imprint in time embedded
in the crystal. We are using

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how you understand time at this present juncture but there is more to this than
as you saynaad 'meets the eye'. Pre-planning was not the case yetnaad in a waynaad
that was what transpired. Bernie knew of this crystal yet did not know he was to
receive it in this way as a gift. How can that be? Could it be that there are
unseen forces at play here? We go another way then. Have you not had issues that
have come about in strange waysnaad ways that to you could not have been
premeditatednaad pre-plannednaad yet they occurred? Yesnaad everybody has had
experiences like that. It is of this sort we are referring today. It is not that
you understand what is transpiring or has transpirednaad it is that your grasp is
not yet freed up enough to understand what happens at this time ornaad these
timesnaad as the case may be. Is this along the lines of quantum mechanics? It can
be thought of as along that way but it is much simpler to grasp once you gain the
understanding of time and its relevance. We would like to lea

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. Match the frequency of the reality you want and you cannot help but get that
reality. It can be no other way. This is not philosophy. This is physics. Albert
Einstein o0o We would appreciate more information on the different types of
inhabitants of the nature world. Some are already known but perhaps you can
provide us with further information on any others that may be here but of whom we
are unfamiliar with. Is that agreeable with you as our topic for today? Yesnaad
all will be of accord. Wellnaad there are the gnomes who are of the earth
elements. We have the sylphs of the air; those of the fire elements called
salamanders and the undines also called water sprites. The elves appear to be a
division of the earth elements and we can assume that the other three elements
would have their divisions too. Is that a correct assumption? Yesnaad it is the
way. You have mentioned they are not third dimensional yet take care of this
third dimension's nature world. While we are herenaad we inhab

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it a third dimensional body and that body is a combination of the four elements
of earthnaad airnaad fire and water in varying degrees. Do any of the nature
spirits take care of us while we are here? Not in the way you may perceive. They do
take care of you by ministering to your needs; your foodnaad your airnaad your
sunshine are all part of the nature kingdom that enhances your quality of life
whilst here. Would you mind enlarging on what you mean by them being able to
minister to our needs with sunshine and air? Could you explain that please? They
have their ways with this just as they attend to the needs of their natural world
of the floranaad fauna and all that they hold dear. They minister in a way that
enhances your perceptions and acceptance; your body ways and needs. But they are
not of this dimensionnaad even though they take care of all that are here. Where do
they come from if this dimension is not home to them? They are a finer
composition than their charges. They are ethericnaad made

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to their charges that are there. They also maintain other avenuesnaad more of the
tree species as you have mentioned. They have many functions to keep 'the wheels of
progress spinning'naad so to say. Are the elves an off-shoot of the gnome species?
Nonaad they are another way but all intertwine with their receivership of the
nature kind. Thank you. We might come back to that a little later to gain more
information. It can follow that way. Thank you. 48 The Sprites of the Water
Elements. Don't say this is good and this is bad. Drop all discrimination. Accept
everything as it is. Osho o0o What about the water elementsnaad the sprites? They
have a relationship with the water but does it encompass all water? Nonaad they do
not have receivership of all. They contain themselves to the rivers and streams of
the nature world. There they minister to the needs of all there that rely upon
these requirements. The animals of the nature world who come to sip of the
streams; the kingdom at large of the mosses

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e are discussing. Perhaps later we can discuss who controls the seas and oceans.
It sounds an interesting topic to follow. Then we follow that way. 49 Are the
sprites all the same or do they have different 'branches'? Nonaad they are all of
the same way. And do they have anything to do with the flooding rivers and streams
when there has been heavy rain? Againnaad you are not looking at a larger picture.
The water spirits do not come into play as you are portraying. They are part of
the landscape and go 'with the flow' as you say. They do not instigate 'the flow'.
Then what about the damage done to their domain from torrential rain or even
perhaps droughts? Are they sad about the damage they see has been done? You do not
encompass a larger picture. They do not react that way because they understand the
vagaries of the world they inhabit. Change is a part of their world and it matters
not to them in which way it comes to be. They will continue as they have decreed
to work with the world

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they love. Are they emotionally affected by the birds and animals that are hurt or
killed by extreme weather conditions? Nonaad it is not their way. They understand
that all have a time and a place in the natural order of life. They do not fret or
fume at such times occurring. Thank you. 50 The Sylphs of the Air Element. Be
realistic. Expect a miracle. Osho o0o We would like to know more about the
sylphsnaad the nature spirits of the air. My understanding is that they relate to
the air element of our body's composition. They are said to influence the
intellect and are especially activated or involved with those people who are
creative such as scientistsnaad inventorsnaad artists; all creative people are
helped in gaining their inspiration by the air spirits. Yesnaad it is their way.
All of the elements’ composition influences a person's body in a certain way.
Sonaad depending on their strength within the physical body's compositionnaad the
earth element could help a person be groundednaad a water el

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ement could make a person more emotional and a person with the fire element could
be fiery? Yesnaad we do not disagree with your concepts. Is part of our challenge
to work with and learn to control the earth elements our body is constructed from?
Yesnaad you are all here to learn how to control those elemental energies that your
physical body is composed from. It is partly in this waynaad with thisnaad that
you also bring them on with their 'evolution'naad so to say. And it is not only
working with the positive traits you mentioned but it is a balancing of what can be
termed the negative and positive components of each? Using the example of the fire
element just discussed the person with strong fire elements will be influenced to
be fiery temperednaad perhaps flies into a temper easily or be a person who
inspires others by their positive attitude and perhaps benevolence? And that
influence could wax and wane depending on other influences during their lifetime
here? Yesnaad it is the way. All will be

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influenced by the ways the elements are at varying times throughout their life.
And are the elements also influenced by the stars? Yesnaad it is the way. Thank
you. From time to time our world experiences very strong windsnaad typhoonsnaad
cyclones and tornados. Are these part of the doings of the air elementals? Nonaad
they do not control such as you say. Againnaad it is another 'breed'; more to do
with Mother Earth's inhabitants. I do not understand what you mean by Mother
Earth's inhabitants and will continue along with that line of questioning in a
moment but first would like to learn more about the nature spirits. Then we
follownaad go that way. 51 If we wanted to see an air spiritnaad what would we look
for? They are elusive and hard to see but if you looknaad unfocused you might
catch them on the wind. They like to dancenaad to sing and they can be found
dancing aroundnaad in and amongst the leaves of the trees. They can be seen as
will-o-the-wisps that gather and play. What about the water spirits?

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In a sun filtered area of a rainforest once thought there might have been a few
dancing like sparkling sunlight on the top of the small stream there. However it
might have just been my wanting to see them that made me think that at the time.
It may be the way that what you thought you saw you did because often they can be
seen that way. Have more faith in your abilities and do not automatically dismiss
what you thought you saw. Thank you. I will follow your suggestion. 52 The
Salamanders of the Flames. The mind is a beautiful servantnaad dangerous master.
Osho o0o Given the opportunity many of us may sometimes sitnaad perhaps around a
campfirenaad or in front of a fire burning in our home hearth relaxednaad looking
into the flames. It is at times such as thisnaad when in that relaxed statenaad we
are susceptible to seeing the salamanders there. Is that so? Yesnaad it can be the
way when relaxation is upon you all. Are the salamanders at every fire? No matter
how large or how small? Yesnaad as soon as

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the first match is strucknaad they are there. It is their doing; their domain
being activated at these times. I am sure that at least once I have witnessed to
seeing the fire spirits and would like to mention it now for your opinion. 'Fire
away'naad as you say. Fire away? You are having a little jokenaad aren't you?
Yesnaad sometimes we like to instruct in a fun-filled way. One evening a group of
us were relaxednaad chatting as we satnaad glancing occasionally through the glass
door of a pot-bellied stove into the flames flickering. I must have drifted into a
warmnaad relaxednaad altered state of consciousness before becoming aware that
there were two flames interacting with each other. They started off playingnaad
but then changed andnaad like two little children might actnaad their play turned
mean as they seemed to be trying to outdo each other's antics in a spiteful way.
Can you comment on what I saw? We cannot comment on your particular incident but
can say it may well be as you described it to be. The fir

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The Unknown Others. How could this earth of oursnaad which is only a speck in the
heavensnaad have so much variety of lifenaad so many curious and exciting
creatures? Walt Disney o0o We have spoken of the nature spirits and the earth
elementals but would now like to discuss the others you have briefly mentionednaad
those who are also of Mother Earth. I am assuming that they are different to the
earth elementals and maybe have a bigger role to play? Nonaad not a bigger role to
play for each and every one of the elementsnaad the 'nature world' as you say are a
vital cog in the organizations of what makes your reality 'hum like a well-oiled
machine'. It is this way that all serve their purpose divine and are cogs that
help drive the evolutionary way of all. You have mentioned that the nature
spiritsnaad the fairies and others are not of this dimension even though they
attend to this dimension. My assumption is that they can come and go at will. Is
my assumption correct? Yesnaad it is the way it is. They d

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o have a purpose here but also at other levelsnaad dominions. We do not seek for
you to understand this way at present but would prefer you to get a 'grounding' so
to say of what transpires here on this dominion you call Earth. Perhaps then at
another time we can spread our wings to other avenues we are not yet ready to
understand or learn about? Yesnaad we can follow you way with the comprehension of
what is about here first and then progress to the next 'instalment'naad so to say.
But we can state that these nature spirits and earth elementals are not human in
their evolution path even though they assist usnaad humans in various ways while
we are here? Yesnaad that is so. And every country in the worldnaad has the fairies
and elementals looking after whatever is growing in any part of the globe?
Yesnaad it is the way. Thank you. Perhaps for today we can discuss the energies of
the seasnaad oceansnaad mountains and any others not previously mentioned.
Yesnaad we can introduce you more to other energiesnaad e
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atio. There is cerealzdfqg an applezdfqg orange juicezdfqg and a cup of tea on the
table. SERENA seems relaxed and contented as she eats. She watches a variety of
birds come to her bird feeder and a couple of rabbits chewing on grass stems.
Someone is calling on her phone. The view shifts to split screen so we can see the
caller. It is her daughter ZOEzdfqg 21zdfqg who is away at a universityzdfqg
sitting on a sofa chair in her dorm room. The walls are decorated with colorful
posters. SERENA (answering): Good morningzdfqg sweetie. ZOE: Good morningzdfqg
Mom. Hope I’m not calling at a bad time. You’re not rushing for classzdfqg are
you? 2 SERENA: Nozdfqg I’m not. This is my non-teaching day. And I have only one
meeting this afternoon. ZOE: I’m glad. I was hoping we could chat. My first class
isn’t until ten. SERENA: Is it the art history class? ZOE: Yes. I love it! Dr.
Robinson is such a great teacher. He makes me understand and appreciate art as I
never expected to. And he’s trying to arrange a trip to Paris

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for the class in early summer. Can I go? SERENA: It sounds exciting. But why
don’t you find out all the details? Then we can decide. ZOE: Thankszdfqg Mom. And
if I gozdfqg I’ll be sure to come home and spend time with you before and after
the trip. SERENA: It’s a deal. And are your other classes going well? ZOE: I’m
enjoying all my classeszdfqg but just not as much as art history. And what meeting
do you have today? SERENA: It’s at the faculty clubzdfqg for professors who want to
do something to save the environment. ZOE: Sounds perfect for youzdfqg Mom. Have a
nice time! SERENA: Thankszdfqg Zoe. Have you heard from Jason? ZOE: I talked with
him two days ago. He’s fine. 3 SERENA: I spoke with him last week. But I left a
couple of messages in the last two days and he hasn’t called back. ZOE: He needs
a talking to. Should I do it? SERENA: Wellzdfqg I said it wasn’t urgentzdfqg that
I just wanted to chat. Maybe that’s why he didn’t take it seriously. I can leave
him one more message saying I’m concerned I

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haven’t heard from him. ZOE: But if he still doesn’t callzdfqg let me know. I’ll
find out what’s going onzdfqg and give him a talking tozdfqg if needed. SERENA
(laughing): Okay. ZOE: I’ve got to run now. Love youzdfqg Mom. SERENA: Love
youzdfqg too. The view shifts to full-screen showing the patio and the beautiful
backyard. SERENA smiles as she looks aroundzdfqg enjoying the viewzdfqg and
reflecting on her conversation with her daughter. Then she makes another call.
SERENA: Jasonzdfqg please call me soon. I’d like to know how you are. She walks
aroundzdfqg admiring the flowers on the bushes. A brilliantly colored hummingbird
dives inzdfqg aiming for the bright redzdfqg tubularzdfqg fuchsia flowerszdfqg but
then hovers close to SERENA in a most unusual way. SERENA smiles and 4
whisperszdfqg “Thank youzdfqg Jeremyzdfqg” understanding that her departed husband
is using the bird to say he’s with her. The phone starts to ring and SERENA walks
back briskly to answer it. The view shifts again to split screen. The caller is
her son JAS
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ONzdfqg 19zdfqg who is away at another university. He is sitting outdoors on the
campus on a patch of grass. Many students are walking byzdfqg presumably to class.
SERENA: Hizdfqg Jason. Thanks for calling back. JASON: I’m alrightzdfqg Mom. Why
do you worry so much? SERENA: I like to know all is well. It only takes a few
minutes to assure someone who loves you that you’re okay. JASON: Sorryzdfqg Mom.
I’ll try to be in touch more regularly. SERENA: Thank you. Do you have a few
minutes to chat? JASON: Yeszdfqg a few. SERENA: Wellzdfqg anything new? JASON:
Not really. SERENA: How are your classes going? And which classes do you have
today? JASON: Classes are fine. Economics and historyzdfqg today. SERENA: Do you
like both? 5 JASON: Economics is boringzdfqg but history is not bad. SERENA:
Wellzdfqg enjoy it. Are you playing your guitar? JASON: Nozdfqg I haven’t in a
bit. SERENA: I hope you can find time for it. You have such a talent for music….
Are you eating well? JASON: I am. There’s a nice gap between classeszdfqg so

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I can go to the cafeteria…. Okayzdfqg Momzdfqg I should go now. SERENA: Have a
wonderful day. Love youzdfqg Jason. JASON: Love you toozdfqg Mom. SERENA puts the
phone down with a slight sighzdfqg as the view shifts back to full-screen. She
gets upzdfqg puts her breakfast dishes on a trayzdfqg and carries it into the
house. INTERIOR: FACULTY CLUB (AFTERNOON) It is a pleasant setting with small
conversation areas as well as larger sections for dining. We see a gorgeous river
from several windowszdfqg and there is an outside portion bordering the river as
well. People are milling about everywhere in the indoor part. SERENA is mingling
comfortably. She seems to know some people and introduces herself to others. A
pleasant-looking MANzdfqg in his early 40szdfqg watches her from across the room
and then walks over to her. MAN: Hizdfqg I’m Alan Wyatt. I teach anthropology. I
haven’t seen you before. 6 SERENA: I’m Serena Bradfordzdfqg in physics. Are you
new to the university? ALAN: Relatively speaking. Two years. And you?

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SERENA: Twelve. Did you teach somewhere else before? ALAN: Yeszdfqg at
Billingsworth. SERENA: Why did you leave? ALAN: California has always seemed
attractive to me. SERENA: The weather? ALAN: Thatzdfqg too. Of course the main
attraction is the perspective of the people. Take this meeting for example.
SERENA: I know what you mean. I try to attend these get#togethers whenever I can.
And participate in social activism when I canzdfqg too. ALAN: How is it then that
I haven’t seen you before? SERENA: They have all kinds of meetings and groups going
on here. I’ve joined several. But you can’t attend them all. ALAN nods. Someone
calls the meeting to order. We see everyone talking and discussing things
togetherzdfqg but we don’t hear them. SERENA and ALAN participate actively. They
glance and smile at each other now and then. 7 Time lapse: The scene changes to
where the meeting seems to be over. People start to go. SERENA looks at ALANzdfqg
but he is talking to someone. She leaves the club. EXTERI
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OR: FACULTY CLUB PARKING LOT (CONTINUOUS) SERENA is walking toward her car. ALAN is
striding behind herzdfqg trying to catch up. She turnszdfqg sees himzdfqg and
stops. SERENA: That was a productive meetingzdfqg wasn’t it? We actually came up
with a worthwhile plan of action each of us can implement. ALAN: I agree…. Are
you going to class now? SERENA: Nozdfqg I was planning to walk by the river. ALAN:
Do you mind if I join you? SERENA (smiling): Not at all. EXTERIOR: RIVER WALK
(CONTINUOUS) A long shot: There are pretty trees and plants bordering the river.
Gentle waves make the water sparkle in the sunlight. A few ducks are seen here and
there. In some places the walkway widens to accommodate a bench or a swing.
People are walking or jogging. SERENA and ALAN are strolling on the path and
enjoying the view. We see them talking and laughingzdfqg but don’t hear what they
say. As they come to a bench and sitzdfqg the camera zooms in. 8 ALAN: That’s not
a wedding bandzdfqg is it? SERENA: It is. ALAN: It

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’s strange I didn’t notice it all this time. Sozdfqg are you married? SERENA: I’m
a widow. ALAN: Ohzdfqg I’m sorry. Was it recent? SERENA: It’s been six years.
ALAN: What happened? If you’d rather not sayzdfqg that’s fine. SERENA: Jeremy was
killed in a car crash. Someone who was texting ran into him. ALAN: That’s
terrible. I’m truly sorry. SERENA: Thank you. My children were of great support to
me. And I to themzdfqg I believe. ALAN: That’s good. How many children do you
have? SERENA: Two. A girl and a boy. Zoe is 21 and studying at Sonoma State.
Jason is 19 and studying at UCzdfqg Davis. ALAN: So not too far from here. SERENA:
I was glad they decided on universities so close to home. And they’re only an
hour’s drive from each other. 9 ALAN: And your husband? Was he a professorzdfqg
too? SERENA: Yes. We were married after he earned his Ph.D. and I received my
master’s. He became a professorzdfqg while I stayed home for a few years to have
and raise our children. ALAN: You put motherhood ahead

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of your career. SERENA: I’m glad I was able to. I started doctoral work after
Jason went to preschool. I earned my Ph.D. after the children were in regular
schoolzdfqg and started as a professorzdfqg herezdfqg twelve years ago. For
Jeremyzdfqg it was his second job. ALAN: Was he in physicszdfqg like you? SERENA:
No. Astronomy. ALAN: How interesting. Did he have a telescope at home? SERENA
(nodding): I still have it. ALAN: And do you look at the stars through it? SERENA:
Sometimes. I prefer just to look up at a starry sky though. ALAN smiles
appreciatively. SERENA: And what about you? Are you married? ALAN: No. SERENA:
Ever been? 10 ALAN: No. I’ve been in relationshipszdfqg but never wanted to marry.
SERENA: And no one wanted to marry you? ALAN: One or two might have. But I wasn’t
ready. SERENA: Didn’t want to be tied down. ALAN: That’s not it. It just didn’t
feel right…. If it doeszdfqg I would be ready to take the plunge…. And you? Would
you consider remarrying? SERENA: If it felt rightzdfqg I thi
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nk I would. ALAN: Have you dated since your husband died? SERENA: Nozdfqg I’ve
not. I didn’t feel the need to. My children were with me when we all needed each
other the most. Then Zoe left for college three years ago. And Jason left a year
ago. ALAN: So you’ve been alone only for a year. SERENA: Except I don’t feel
alonezdfqg ever. ALAN: What do you mean? SERENA: I feel my husband’s presence.
ALAN: I understand. He’s still in your heart. You must have loved him very much.
11 SERENA: I did. I still do. ALAN: What a lucky man. To have someone like you
love him even after he’s long gone. SERENA (patiently): He’s not gone. He’s simply
in another dimension. He still loves me and the children. And we love him. Love
never dies. ALAN stares at her incredulously. SERENA: What’s the matter? ALAN: I
don’t mean to offend youzdfqg but I didn’t think a physics professor could believe
in such things. SERENA: Believe in what? That love is eternal? ALAN: Or life for
that matter. SERENA (surprised)

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: You don’t know that we’re all eternal? ALAN: “Know”? Why do you say that as if
it’s a factzdfqg and not a belief? SERENA: Because it is a fact. ALAN: You mean
it’s faith. SERENA: It has nothing to do with faith. It’s just knowledge.
Understanding reality. 12 ALAN: And how did you obtain this knowledge? SERENA
(hesitating): I’d rather not sayzdfqg at present. ALAN: And I suppose you believe
in God. SERENA: I know God exists. ALAN: How do you know? Oh yeszdfqg you’d rather
not sayzdfqg at present. SERENA looks annoyed. ALAN: I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have
been sarcastic…. It’s just that nothing I’ve read in theology has convinced me of
God’s existence. SERENA (disappointed): Sozdfqg you’re an atheist. ALAN: I am.
Why do you look at me that way? SERENA (bluntly): Because it’s very sad. To be so
brightzdfqg and yet oblivious of something that should be obvious. ALAN: What is
so obvious? SERENA: That such an amazing universe could not happen by chance. It
had to have a Creator. ALAN: That’s not obvio

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us at all. What about the Big Bang? SERENA: But surely you know that many
physicists argue that the Big Bang was caused by a Creator. 13 ALAN: And an equal
number insist it wasn’t…. And what about evolution? Don’t you know evolution is
true? SERENA: Of course. ALAN: Wellzdfqg belief in evolution is the opposite of
belief in creationism. SERENA: Obviously I don’t believe in creationism. That’s
nothing but a religious myth. I know evolution is a reality. But it does not
contradict the existence of God. ALAN: How can you have it both ways? SERENA:
It’s the truth. God created the world and then let it evolve as it has. ALAN:
Isn’t that deism? SERENA: No. Deism posits an uninvolved God. That is simply not
so. I know that spirits in heavenzdfqg with the full support of Godzdfqg do help
people in their lives. ALAN shakes his headzdfqg somewhat disparagingly. SERENA
(trying to be calm): It may be better if we don’t discuss such things. There’s too
big a divide between us. ALAN: Too big a di

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vide to see each other again? SERENA (thinking it over): Nozdfqg I didn’t say
that. 14 ALAN: Dinnerzdfqg Saturday night? SERENA: I would prefer lunch Friday.
ALAN: You have plans for Saturday? SERENA (nodding): To spend a quiet evening at
home. ALAN looks quizzically at her. SERENA: Besideszdfqg we could walk here again
and talkzdfqg if all goes well at lunch. ALAN: You’re right. That’s a much better
plan. Where would you like to go? SERENA: Veggie Delight? On second thoughtszdfqg
that probably won’t work for you. ALAN: It would work wonderfully. I happen to be
vegetarian. SERENA (surprised): So we do have something in common. ALAN:
Apparently so. Let’s focus on that. (Handing her his card) Call me Friday morning
to confirm that we’re still onzdfqg and to set up a time to meet. SERENA: Okay.
They get up and start walking back as the camera pans away from them to include a
wider view of the riverzdfqg sparkling in the bright sunlight. 15 A succession of
shots: SERENA is preparing for class; t

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eaching animatedly in a classroom; chatting with colleagues as she walks back from
class; talking to students in her office; driving home along scenic back roads;
cooking a simple meal in her kitchen. EXTERIOR: PATIO (EVENING) SERENA is having
dinner. She looks relaxed and is enjoying looking at her pretty backyard. We hear
the phone and the view shifts to split screen. It is ZOE. She’s walking on
campuszdfqg on a path lined with beautifulzdfqg flowering trees. SERENA: Thanks
for calling backzdfqg darling. ZOE: Of coursezdfqg Mom. Is everything alright?
SERENA: It is. It’s just that I met someone yesterday. I have mixed feelings about
him and wanted to talk to you. ZOE: Tell me. SERENA: Wellzdfqg he’s brightzdfqg
cares about the environmentzdfqg and he’s vegetarian. ZOE: All sounds good so
far. Did you meet him at the faculty club? SERENA: I did. He teaches
anthropology. ZOE: So what’s wrong with him? 16 SERENA: He doesn’t believe in
God. And he thinks neither life nor love is eternal. ZOE: Ooh

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zdfqg that’s bad…. But the fact that you guys talked about all this in just one
meeting is promising. It was just oncezdfqg right? SERENA: Right. But we made
tentative plans to have lunch tomorrow. ZOE: And you want to back out? SERENA:
I’m not sure. But I do wonder if there’s any point in continuing to see someone
who doesn’t understand such basiczdfqg critical facts. ZOE: Maybe you’re supposed
to teach him. SERENA: He doesn’t seem open to this kind of learning. ZOE: Sozdfqg
it’s a challenge. SERENA: I’m not sure I need one. ZOE: And yet you hesitate to
cancel. So you must see something in him. SERENA: I suppose so. ZOE: Wellzdfqg
get to know him a bit morezdfqg and then decide if it’s worth it to try to
enlighten him. 17 SERENA: That’s a sound plan. How did you get to be so wise?
ZOE: I had a good teacher. They laugh. SERENA: And what about you? What are your
latest thoughts about Tad? ZOE: No change. I like him and like doing things
together. But I’m not sure I want to spend my life wit

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h him. SERENA: I’m glad you’re carefulzdfqg Zoe. I hope you’ll be as happy in
your marriage as Dad and I were. ZOE (grinning): Yeszdfqg that’s the model for
me…. Has Jason called you back yet? SERENA: He did call. We had a brief talkzdfqg
but nice. ZOE: That’s a relief. Let me know how the lunch goes. SERENA: I will.
And thanks for the helpzdfqg Zoe. ZOE: Any timezdfqg Mom! INTERIOR: RESTAURANT
(NOON) The restaurant is full of patrons. It seems a delightfulzdfqg cozy place.
SERENA and ALAN are enjoying a hearty vegetarian meal. They are laughing and
talking. 18 EXTERIOR: RIVER WALK (CONTINUOUS) SERENA and ALAN are walking along
the river as they did before. They come to a bench and sit down. ALAN: I feel as
if I know you a lot better. And I respect you for being such a good motherzdfqg
professorzdfqg and citizen. SERENA: Thank you. And you’ve done pretty well
yourselfzdfqg despite losing your parents so early. ALAN: Thank you. I was
fortunate to be raised by my uncle and aunt. They were kind to me. But

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I never felt the deep love you have with your children. SERENA: Maybe that’s the
reason you don’t believe in eternal love. ALAN: Maybe. SERENA: When you
experience deep lovezdfqg you know without doubt that it’s forever. It can never
die. ALAN: It must be fantastic to feel that way. But I don’t at present.
SERENA: That’s understandable. Maybe you willzdfqg some day. ALAN doesn’t reply.
SERENA: Let me ask you something. What do you think happens after death? 19 ALAN:
Nothing. It’s the end. SERENA: What would be the purpose of our being herezdfqg of
loving and growingzdfqg if it all ends in nothing? ALAN: If we’ve made some
contributionzdfqg helped someonezdfqg loved someonezdfqg then that lives on. We
leave a legacy behind even after we’re gone. SERENA: But we ourselves don’t exist
after deathzdfqg in your view? ALAN: No. We are bornzdfqg we live a good
lifezdfqg and we die. SERENA: And all the love people feel for each other? ALAN:
It lives on in people’s heartszdfqg like you and your children remembering

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and loving Jeremy. SERENA: Nozdfqg you’re mistakenzdfqg Alan. Jeremy does not
live only in our memories. He lives onzdfqg eternally. ALAN is quiet. SERENA
decides to change the subject to keep their interchange going. SERENA: You lost
your parents in a car crash. And we lost Jeremy the same way. Gives you pausezdfqg
doesn’t it? ALAN: That people were irresponsible years agozdfqg and still are?
SERENA: Yes. A drunk driver hit your parents and a texter hit Jeremy. Both drivers
were utterly careless of others. 20 ALAN: And both got away with itzdfqg
relatively speaking. SERENA: It seems that way. ALAN: Sozdfqg in your view of
life after this onezdfqg will they be punished? SERENA: I hope they willzdfqg in
some way. But I don’t believe in a permanent hell. ALAN: Just a temporary
punishment and they’re free to go? SERENA: Something like that. ALAN: Why don’t
you wish a permanent hell for the person who took your husband’s life? SERENA: She
made a terrible mistake. She needs to pay for it. But surely that

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punishment doesn’t have to be eternal. ALAN: You’re amazing. How can you be so
forgiving? SERENA: I’m not. I think she does need to be punishedzdfqg but not
forever. Especially when Jeremy is peaceful where he iszdfqg and connected to us.
And I’ll see him eventually. ALAN: How is he connected to you? SERENA: Through
spirit communications and guardian angel help. I’ll send you an email laterzdfqg
recommending some books on these subjects that you can read. And perhaps in the
futurezdfqg I can share our experiences. 21 ALAN: Okay. I’d like to read these
books and see what I think about such communications. But if I think they’re
delusionszdfqg as I suspect I willzdfqg you’ll probably be upset. SERENA: They’re
not delusions. Many people have received spirit messages telling of something
unknown at the timezdfqg and then it happened later. There is enough evidence to
show these communications do take place. ALAN: Then why have I never received any
from my parents? SERENA: Maybe they tried. But you didn

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’t understand. I have no doubt though that they’re watching over you. ALAN: What?
SERENA: They’re your guardian angels. Like Jeremy is to me and the children. ALAN
frownszdfqg but doesn’t reply. SERENA: Have you ever had a close callzdfqg perhaps
avoided an accident at the last second? Orzdfqg have you ever had a long shot
related to your career become a reality? ALAN: Both situationszdfqg and more than
once. But I think I’m just lucky. SERENA: Nozdfqg you’re blessed. Your parents
have been protecting you and helping you. They love you. 22 ALAN: I won’t argue
at present. I’ll read the books you recommend and then we can discuss all this.
Lunch againzdfqg next Friday? Same timezdfqg same place? SERENA: Sounds like a
plan. EXTERIOR: PATIO (MORNING) SERENA is having breakfast on the patio. The
morning sun lights up various clusters of flowers on the bushes in the backyard.
Vividly colorful butterflies hover over the sunlit flowers. The phone rings and
SERENA answers. SERENA: Hizdfqg Mom. How are you?

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(Pause) I’m fine. The children are too. And how’s Dad? (Long pause) It’s great
that you both are helping to save the environment. I’ve joined a group at the
university to do my bit too. (Pause) Ohzdfqg that’s a clever way to enjoy nature
and keep in shape. (Pause) Nozdfqg I still haven’t gone back to hiking. But I do
walk by the river regularly. It’s glorious. (Pause) I will. Thanks for
callingzdfqg Mom. Love you and Dad! SERENA walks about in her backyardzdfqg
admiring everything. She fills the birdfeeder and the birdbath. We hear the
phone. SERENA walks back quickly to answer it. The view goes to split screen. It’s
JASONzdfqg in his sunlit dorm room. SERENA: Good morningzdfqg Jason! How are
youzdfqg honey? JASON: I’m alright. I called to tell you of a wonderful
communication from Dad yesterday. SERENA (excited): What was it? 23 JASON: We were
supposed to tell Dr. Morriszdfqg my history professorzdfqg which historical figure
we had picked for our term paper. I had decided on Galileozdfqg so it could be a
spe

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cial connection to Dadzdfqg through a famous astronomer. SERENA: That’s very
thoughtful of you. JASON: But all morningzdfqg the name “Copernicus” kept popping
into my mind. I knew it had to be Dadzdfqg but I had no idea why he preferred
Copernicus to Galileo. Anywayzdfqg I told the history professor I would write
about Copernicus. SERENA: Good for you. JASON: Later I did some preliminary
research on their personal lives and found that Galileo was not very kind to the
people closest to him—a woman he lived withzdfqg but didn’t marryzdfqg and their
three children. Copernicus didn’t have a family of his ownzdfqg but he was very
kind to his extended family. So I knew why Dad liked him better! SERENA: What a
magical connection to Dad! And I’m proud of you for trusting Dad and for taking
the trouble to find out the reason for his wise recommendation. JASON:
Thankszdfqg Mom. I knew you’d be happy. INTERIOR: HOME OFFICE (CONTINUOUS) SERENA
is working at her computer. She has many papers with handwritten note

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s spread out near her. She seems to be working on a scholarly project. 24 The
phone rings and the view changes to split screen. It is ZOE. She’s sitting on a
bench on campuszdfqg near the same pretty path she was walking on during their
previous conversation. Other students are walking by. SERENA: Hizdfqg Zoe. How are
you? ZOE: I’m alright. How was lunch? SERENA: Lunch was great. He seemed a bit
more openzdfqg so I’ve recommended some books on spirit communications. We’ll
meet again for lunch in a weekzdfqg after he’s read some. ZOE: Sounds promising.
But don’t expect too much progress too soon. SERENA: I won’t. In factzdfqg when
Grandma called this morningzdfqg I couldn’t bring myself to tell her I’ve met
someone. Because I really don’t know if it’ll amount to anything. And I don’t want
to get her hopes up for nothing. ZOE: That’s probably for the best. You can talk
to me about him in the meanwhile. SERENA: I know. And I appreciate it. By the
wayzdfqg Jason had a marvelous communication from Da

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d related to his writing about an astronomer for his history class. Ask him about
it when you guys talk. ZOE: I will…. Way to gozdfqg Dad! The camera pulls away as
they carry on their conversation. 25 EXTERIOR: RIVER WALK (DAY) SERENA and ALAN
are walking by the river. There are not many people on the walk. It is a cloudy
but pleasant day. SERENA: That was a nice lunchzdfqg wasn’t it? ALAN: It was
indeed…. Do you ever hike in the mountains? SERENA: I used tozdfqg with Jeremy. I
haven’t in a while. ALAN: Would you like to? SERENA: I might. Let me know if you
think of a relatively short hikezdfqg with a waterfall. ALAN: There are several
trails that would work. I‘ll make a list and we can go whenever you like. SERENA:
It’s a plan. They come to a bench and sit down. ALAN turns around and looks
intently at SERENA. ALAN: This may sound strange but I find myself thinking of you
all the time. SERENA smileszdfqg but doesn’t reply. ALAN: Have you thought of me
at all? SERENA: Yeszdfqg a lot. 26 ALAN

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s experiences if you’ve had similar experiences yourself. So it’s easy for me to
know it’s the truth. But not for you. 27 ALAN nods. SERENA: But there’s a huge
number of ADCs (that’s short for after-death communications) from people the
recipients didn’t even know had died. It was after receiving the ADC that they
found out the person had passed away. So there’s no question of hallucination or
delusion there. ALAN: But it still could be made up. SERENA: Why would anyone
make this up? ALAN: To sell a book? SERENA: No. Some of these are reported in
journal articles. No profit motivezdfqg and written by scholars. ALAN: I’m much
more open to all this now. But I’d be lying if I said I fully believed it.
SERENA: I understand. ALAN: Do you mind sharing an ADC from Jeremy? SERENA: When
we were deeply grievingzdfqg the children and I felt hugs as we were falling
asleepzdfqg alone in bed. When we were out walkingzdfqg we’ve had butterflies make
a beeline to us and brush our cheeks. We’ve seen

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sky-spanning rainbows when we told Jeremy how much we missed him. We’ve had dream
visitationszdfqg different from normal dreamszdfqg where we’ve seen his face and
heard his voice. 28 ALAN: What did he say in these visitations? SERENA: That he
will always love uszdfqg and watch over us. ALAN is quiet. SERENA: If you still
don’t believezdfqg it means you don’t trust me. And in that casezdfqg there’s not
much point in going on. ALAN: I do trust you. I don’t think you could ever lie.
But could all these be delusions? After allzdfqg you were grieving. SERENA: The
butterflieszdfqg too? And the rainbows? ALAN: Coincidenceszdfqg perhaps? SERENA
shakes her head regretfully. ALAN: And the dreams and hugs could be due to
longing? SERENA (sadly): Nozdfqg it’s all real. I think the problem is that
you’re a reductionist. ALAN: What’s that? SERENA: Someone who reduces everything to
what they can seezdfqg touchzdfqg and measure. Someone who doesn’t believe in
anything beyond the physical. Someone who doesn’t understand that the

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re is a spirit dimension where our loved ones live onzdfqg with God. And that they
can connect with us and watch over us. ALAN thinks about this for a minute. 29
ALAN (despondently): You’re right. I am a reductionist. I wish I could believe as
you do. But I don’t. I wish I could lie and say I believe itzdfqg so we could move
forward with a physical relationship. But I can’t. SERENA: Nozdfqg you’re too
honest. And that’s in your favor. ALAN: Sozdfqg where do we go from here? SERENA:
I’m not sure. Should we continue the Friday lunches and walks by the river? ALAN:
But every time I see youzdfqg I want to take you in my arms. How can we go on
seeing each other and remain in a platonic relationship? SERENA: Do you want to
stop seeing me? ALAN: Nozdfqg that would be too difficult. SERENA: But you could
date someone else. ALAN: I don’t want to date anyone else…. And you? Would you be
content to go back to your lifezdfqg being alone? SERENA looks at him
enigmaticallyzdfqg and doesn’t answer. ALAN: Ohzdfqg I k

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now. You’re never alone. SERENA smiles at this. ALAN stares morosely at the river.
SERENA (sincerely): I would miss youzdfqg very much. 30 ALAN: Wellzdfqg then. Let’s
continue the Friday afternoon dates. Lunchzdfqg walkzdfqg and talk. And we’ll see
what happens. They kiss brieflyzdfqg mixed emotions on their faces. INTERIOR:
HOME OFFICE (EVENING) SERENA is working at her computer. We hear the phone and the
view changes to split screen. It is ALAN. He’s at home in his apartmentzdfqg
relaxing on the sofa. ALAN: I hope you don’t mind my calling you on your “quiet
evening at home.” SERENA: Not at all. What’s up? ALAN: How about a hike on
Sunday? There’s a three-mile trailzdfqg that’s round tripzdfqg and it has a
waterfall. It’s called Deep Creek Falls and it’s only an hour’s drive away.
SERENA: Okayzdfqg we can go. Should we take lunch along? ALAN: Yes. I can pick you
up at nine and then we can get some lunch to go on the way. SERENA: Why don’t we
meet at the faculty club parking at nine? And I can bring so

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me sandwiches. ALAN: If that’s your preference. And I’ll bring some fruitzdfqg
snackszdfqg and water. SERENA: Then we’re all set. 31 EXTERIOR: WATERFALL (DAY)
The falls are breathtakingly beautiful. There are not too many people about.
SERENA and ALAN are sitting on rocks near the fallszdfqg eating their lunch. They
seem contentedzdfqg enjoying the gorgeous falls and the peaceful surroundings.
EXTERIOR: HIKE (CONTINUOUS) SERENA and ALAN are hiking down the trail from the
falls. They see varying views of the valleyzdfqg all scenic. EXTERIOR: FACULTY
CLUB PARKING (CONTINUOUS) SERENA: It was wonderful. Thanks for suggesting this.
ALAN: I’m glad you enjoyed it. Shall we get some dinner? SERENA: Thank youzdfqg
but it’s been a long day already. A quiet evening will do me good. ALAN
(disappointed): Okay…. See you Friday? SERENA: I look forward to it. SERENA
kisses ALAN and walks to her car. He watches herzdfqg looking a little
frustratedzdfqg but trying to be understanding. EXTERIOR: PATIO (MORNING) SERENA

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t’s not too hard for you to go back to life without him. SERENA: Thank youzdfqg
darling. EXTERIOR: RIVER WALK (DAY) SERENA and ALAN are sitting on a benchzdfqg
gazing at the sparkling river. People are walking along the path. 33 SERENA: It’s
nice that this is the last week of the semester. I’m looking forward to summer. A
time to restzdfqg see the childrenzdfqg and travel. ALAN: When are they coming
home? And where do you plan to go? SERENA: We haven’t made any plans yet. They
usually come soon after the exams end. We go to the beach or to visit my parents.
What about you? ALAN: I go to the beachzdfqg too. Orzdfqg to the mountains. With
someone if I’m in a relationshipzdfqg otherwise alone. SERENA: Do you visit your
uncle and auntzdfqg who raised you? ALAN: Not very often. But we do keep in
touchzdfqg by phone and email. SERENA: That’s good. ALAN: Shall we vacation
together this summer? SERENA: We’re not at that stagezdfqg are we? ALAN: Think
about the hike we went on. What a terrific time we had. SERE

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NA: But it’s only because we didn’t talk about what divides us. ALAN: We could
agree never to talk about it. We could 34 even get married if we have that basic
understanding. Our life together would be like the hike. We’d be happy. SERENA: I
don’t think so. Avoiding serious issues only works for a short while. It’s fine
for a hike. But to build a contented life togetherzdfqg you have to concur on deep
issues. ALAN: Did you and Jeremy see eye to eye on all the deep issueszdfqg as
you call them? SERENA: We both believed in Godzdfqg and we felt instinctively
that life and love were eternal. We didn’t know then that spirits could
communicate with people on earthzdfqg but we talked about meeting in heaven after
this lifezdfqg and being together eternally. ALAN: Was this your religious
upbringing? SERENA: Not at all. Neither my parents nor Jeremy’s were religious.
But they all believed in God and in eternal love. Maybe we learned it from them.
Maybe it was instinct. ALAN: Would a merciful God

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take away a young child’s parents? SERENA: I don’t think God deliberately does
this. Things happen and we’re supposed to deal with them. And learn from
themzdfqg and grow. ALAN: Wait! I just realized something. Even if you were open
to marrying mezdfqg what would be the point? Your heart belongs to Jeremy and you
dream of being with him eternally after this life. 35 SERENA: I think my heart is
big enough to love you as well. And I know Jeremy wouldn’t mind if I married you.
He wants me to be happy. ALAN: And if there was eternal life after death? Who
would you spend it with? SERENA: With all my loved oneszdfqg I hope. ALAN: So
you would be with Jeremy and me? SERENA: Yes. And my childrenzdfqg my parentszdfqg
and Jeremy’s parents. And your parents and my grandchildren-to-be. ALAN
(sarcastically): A bigzdfqg joyful family? SERENA (in a heartfelt manner): Yes!
ALAN (condescendingly): Boyzdfqg you really are a dreamer. SERENA looks deeply
hurt. ALAN doesn’t notice. He’s on a streak. ALAN: Maybe y

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ou’re right. We’re too far apart on basic beliefs. There not much hope for uszdfqg
is there? SERENA shakes her head sorrowfully. ALAN: So is this goodbye? SERENA
(with a catch in her voice): I think so. 36 ACT TWO: BRIDGING THE CHASM EXTERIOR:
PATIO (EVENING) SERENA is sitting on the patiozdfqg looking at her backyard in the
fading light. She looks terribly sad. SERENA (looking up): Jeremyzdfqg
darlingzdfqg I thought for a while that I would spend the rest of my life here
with someone I recently met. I knew you wouldn’t have minded. I know you want me
to find happiness here. But it was not to be…. I’ll be alrightzdfqg though. It’s
better than spending my life with someone who doesn’t understand that we are all
eternal and that you are still so close to me and always will be. A wind chime
near her swings and makes melodious musiczdfqg even though there is no breeze
whatsoever. All the plants and trees are absolutely stillzdfqg while the wind
chime sways back and forth. SERENA realizes JEREMY is tel

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have no future together…. I can’t go on this way. I’ve got to move on. He picks
up the phone and makes a call. No one answers. ALAN: Hizdfqg Annezdfqg it’s Alan.
Sorry I missed you. Lookzdfqg I know it’s been a whilezdfqg but I’d like to see
you. (Impulsively) I’m coming over. If you don’t want me tozdfqg call back and say
so. Otherwisezdfqg I’ll see you soon. He puts the phone in his pocketzdfqg grabs
his car keys and leaveszdfqg slamming the door. EXTERIOR: HIGHWAY (NIGHT) ALAN is
driving down the highway. He looks troubled. EXTERIOR: APARTMENT BUILDING
(CONTINUOUS) ALAN is at the entrance door of the buildingzdfqg ringing a bell for
one of the apartments in that building. There is no answer. It starts to rain. He
keeps ringing the bell and waiting. The rain changes to a downpour. Soaked and 38
frustratedzdfqg he runs back to the carzdfqg trying to shield himself
ineffectually from the rain. EXTERIOR: HIGHWAY (CONTINUOUS) ALAN is driving back.
His face and hair are dripping with water and he looks very distract
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ed. An oncoming truck speeds around the corner and goes over the centerline. ALAN
is startled and swerves to avoid it. He skids and crashes hard into a large tree
on the side of the highway. We see ALAN slumped over the steering wheel. The camera
pulls back and then straight up. We first see tree trunkszdfqg then brancheszdfqg
and finally the tops of the trees lining the highway. Suddenlyzdfqg we feel we’re
in a throbbingzdfqg pulsating enclosure with dull grays and brownszdfqg and
loudzdfqg discordant music. It is most unpleasant and feels claustrophobic. All of
a suddenzdfqg we seem to be speeding through a tunnel. There is a pinpoint of
brilliant light at the far endzdfqg which grows larger and larger as the camera
zooms toward it. EXTERIOR: SITE OF CRASH (NIGHT) An ambulancezdfqg two police
vehicleszdfqg and a tow truck are at the scene. Lights from the vehicles are
blinding. Emergency workers are moving around. ALAN’s car appears to be totaled.
Paramedics are reaching inside to get to ALAN. EXTERIOR: PAT

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IO (MORNINGzdfqg A WEEK LATER) SERENA is having breakfast. She is not looking
around. She still looks a bit sad. The phone ringszdfqg and she picks it up. 39
But she doesn’t recognize the caller’s numberzdfqg so she doesn’t answer. Someone
starts to record a message. WOMAN’s voice: Hellozdfqg this message is for Serena.
I’m Nurse Holloway calling from City Hospital. Alan Wyatt was a in a bad car
wreck a week ago. SERENA (answering swiftly): I’m here. Please tell me what’s
going on. NURSE’s voice: Mr. Wyatt was badly hurt and unconscious. There was no
emergency information on him. But he’s been semi-conscious the last two days and
calling your name. So I looked in his cell phone and found your number. SERENA:
Thank you for calling. Is he going to be alright? NURSE’s voice: I don’t know. The
doctors have conducted several surgeries already. We’re hoping he’ll recover.
SERENA: I’ll be over as soon as I can. What’s the room number? NURSE’s voice:
He’s in the ICU. Once you get herezdfqg someo

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ne will take you to him. What’s your last name? SERENA: It’s Bradford. And thanks
again. INTERIOR: ICU RECEPTION AREA (DAY) SERENA is filling out a form. She hands
it to a NURSE behind the counterzdfqg who looks it over and shakes her head. 40
NURSE: Friend? Only relatives are allowed in the ICU. Or significant others.
SERENA swallowszdfqg and thinks for a moment. She takes the formzdfqg changes
something on itzdfqg and hands it back. NURSE: Just went from “friend” to
“significant other”? SERENA: Sorryzdfqg I’m just so flustered. The NURSE looks
pointedly at SERENA’s wedding band. SERENA: I’m a widow. NURSE (relenting):
Comezdfqg I’ll take you to him. INTERIOR: ICU (CONTINUOUS) They walk along a
corridor. The NURSE opens the door to a room. They go in. ALAN is asleep. Many
tubes are attached to him and a lot of medical equipment is monitoring him.
NURSE: You can sit herezdfqg but don’t disturb him. He needs a lot of deep sleep
to heal properly. SERENA nodszdfqg and sits on a chair. The NURSE goes out.
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SERENA looks at ALAN with sympathy and tenderness. INTERIOR: ICU RECEPTION AREA
(LATER) SERENA (to NURSE who had helped her earlier): He’s still asleep. Can you
tell me what happened to him? 41 NURSE: He was in a car wreck. SERENA: Was anyone
else involved? NURSE: Nozdfqg he hit a tree. SERENA (hesitating): Was he drunk?
NURSE (a bit reluctantly): There was no substance abuse. SERENA: What injuries did
he sustain? NURSE (drawing the line): That is private information. SERENA: What’s
the prognosis? NURSE: You’re not listed as someone who is privileged to see his
personal file. SERENA: Is anyone else? NURSE: No. SERENA: May I see Nurse
Holloway? NURSE: She’s busy. SERENA thanks the NURSE and goes out of the ICU.
EXTERIOR: HOSPITAL PARKING LOT (CONTINUOUS) SERENA is sitting in her carzdfqg
making a call. There is no answerzdfqg but she leaves a message. 42 SERENA: Nurse
Hollowayzdfqg this is Serena Bradford. I saw Alan Wyatt and stayed in the room for
over an hour. He was asleepzdfqg so

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I didn’t disturb him. Can you please call me back? I’d like to know how I can
help him. EXTERIOR: PATIO (DAY) SERENA is having a meal. She looks pensive. The
phone rings. SERENA looks at the caller ID and quickly answers. SERENA:
Hellozdfqg Nurse Holloway. Thanks for calling back. How is Alan doing? NURSE’s
voice: Pretty much the same. SERENA: He was sleeping well when I was there. That
should helpzdfqg shouldn’t it? NURSE’s voice: It wouldzdfqg if it was consistent.
But mostlyzdfqg he’s very restless. SERENA: Can you please tell him the next time
he’s awake that I came to see him? NURSE’s voice: He’s never actually awake. He’s
just semi#conscious. SERENA: What can I do to help? NURSE’s voice: You should
plan to spend a whole day with him. When he’s restlesszdfqg you can soothe him.
Maybe he’ll know it’s you and that’ll help him. 43 SERENA: Is he still calling
for me? NURSE’s voice: I’m not sure. We heard him earlier but no one has
mentioned it recently. (Hesitating) There was one oth

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er person who I thought might be able to help. The last call he made on his cell
phone was shortly before his crash. It was made to Anne White. Do you know her?
SERENA: Nozdfqg I don’t. NURSE’s voice: I called that number and left a message
but no one called back…. Anywayzdfqg it was you he was calling for in his
sleepzdfqg so I think you’re the one who can help. SERENA: I’ll do what you
suggested. I’ll come in tomorrow. NURSE’s voice: Good. You can bring a cold lunch
and eat in the room if you like. Come as often as you can. SERENA: Thank you. And
is it possible to tell me about his injuries or his surgeries? NURSE’s voice:
Nozdfqg I’m not allowed. All I can say is that the injuries were extensive and the
doctors have done all they can in terms of surgeries. SERENA: Thank you for
sharing that. Can you at least tell me if there is any possibility of brain
damage? NURSE’s voice: I’m not allowed to say. (Relenting) Besideszdfqg we don’t
know yet. 44 SERENA: I understand. I appreciate your c
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oncern for Alanzdfqg and thanks again for contacting me. SERENA walks in the
backyardzdfqg deep in thought. Then she sits down on a chair on the patio and
calls ZOE. The view changes to split screen. Zoe is walking on campuszdfqg but
sits on a bench under a flowering tree to talk to SERENA. ZOE: Hizdfqg Mom. Is it
getting better? SERENA: There’ve been some developments. Alan was in a car crash
and is in the ICU at City Hospital. ZOE: Ohzdfqg no! SERENA: He’s semi-conscious
and has been calling my name. A nurse suggested I spend some time therezdfqg so
when he gets restless I can soothe him. ALAN: Are you going to do it? SERENA: I
am. I’ll go in every day starting tomorrowzdfqg at least for a while. My cell
phone will be offzdfqg so you won’t be able to reach me during the day. Is that
okay? ZOE: Of course! Now that I knowzdfqg I won’t worry. SERENA: And Jason and
Grandma need to know too. But I don’t feel up to explaining everything to them
right now. ZOE: I’ll do it. How much should I tell? 45 SERENA

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: Just that I met a professor and we had lunch a few times. I liked him very much
but we differed in spiritual thinking so we decided not to get into a
relationship. This is why I didn’t tell them earlier. But now he’s in the ICU
after being in an accident and is calling my name. So I’m trying to help him
recover. ZOE: That’s goodzdfqg Mom. I can handle it. SERENA: I know you can. And
thank youzdfqg darling. ZOE: No problem. You take care of yourself. Don’t get
stressed. Do it in the spirit of helping. And keep me posted. SERENA: I will. But
when were you and Jason planning to come home? ZOE: Wellzdfqg with this new
developmentzdfqg we should wait. Tad is still herezdfqg so I’m fine for staying
longer on campus. And Jason is busy with friends on his campus too. That’s why we
hadn’t made any definite plans so far. The camera moves away as they continue to
talk. INTERIOR: ICUzdfqg ALAN’S ROOM (DAY) A series of shots: SERENA is sitting by
ALAN’s bed and looking at him with concern; reading a book

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; eating her sandwich and drinking juice; pacing up and down nervously; sitting in
a chair and reading again. ALAN is suddenly restlesszdfqg and starts thrashing
about. SERENA goes to him at oncezdfqg and gently strokes his hairzdfqg 46
repeatedly whisperingzdfqg “It’s okay.” A NURSE comes in and sees this. ALAN calms
down and falls deeply asleep again. SERENA moves back to her chair and looks
pensive. EXTERIOR: PATIO (EVENING) SERENA is walking in her backyard. She goes to
the patio and makes a call. The view changes to split screen. We see JASONzdfqg
walking on campuszdfqg carrying his guitar. There are flowering trees aroundzdfqg
pretty even in the fading light. JASON: Hizdfqg Mom. Are you alright? I hope the
hospital stuff is not tiring you out. SERENA: Nozdfqg it’s notzdfqg sweetie. And
how are you? Are you having fun with your friends who are still on campus? JASON:
Something special has happenedzdfqg Mom. Two guys and I have formed a music group.
Francis plays the dulcimer and Rick plays the violin. We pl

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ay old songs and the three instruments sound great together. Students walking by
stop to listen. I’m really enjoying it. SERENA: This is such wonderful newszdfqg
Jason! Thank you for sharing it. JASON grins. The camera draws back as they carry
on their conversation. INTERIOR: ICUzdfqg ALAN’S ROOM (ANOTHER DAY) ALAN is
asleep. SERENA is sitting in a chairzdfqg reading. A NURSE comes in to check on
the tubes and monitors. ALAN 47 is disturbed and becomes restless. SERENA goes to
him and strokes his head soothingly. He relaxes and falls asleep. The NURSE notes
all thiszdfqg smiles at SERENAzdfqg and leaves. EXTERIOR: PATIO (EVENING) SERENA
is sitting on the patiozdfqg talking on the phone. SERENA: Don’t worryzdfqg
Momzdfqg I’m alright. (Pause) Wellzdfqg I’m just focused on helping him recover.
(Pause) Nozdfqg I don’t think we have a future together. (Pause) Thanks for
understandingzdfqg Mom. Love youzdfqg and Dad too. INTERIOR: ICUzdfqg ALAN’S ROOM
(YET ANOTHER DAY) ALAN is asleep. SERENA is sitting in a chairzdfqg reading. A

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LAN suddenly becomes restless. SERENA walks over to him briskly and strokes his
hair tenderly. ALAN (agitatedzdfqg in his sleep): Serena… SERENA (softly): I’m
here. ALAN (still asleep): I love you… SERENA (hesitating): I love youzdfqg too.
ALAN calms down and is quiet. SERENA continues stroking his hair and he sinks into
a deeper sleep. She goes back to her chair and watches ALAN sleeping peacefully.
48 EXTERIOR: PATIO (MORNING) It’s a glorious morning. The flowers look bright in
the morning light and the backyard is peaceful. A rabbit sits close byzdfqg
chewing on grass stems. Birds are at the feeder. SERENA has just finished
breakfast. The phone rings and the view changes to split screen. It is ZOE calling
from her dorm room. She’s in her pajamaszdfqg walking about the room. SERENA: Good
morningzdfqg Zoe. I’ve talked with Jason and Grandma. You did wellzdfqg bringing
them up to date. ZOE: Thankszdfqg Mom. And how are you? SERENA: I’m alright.
It’s a bit draining. But I’m helping Alan sleep dee

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ply. This is what’s supposed to help in his healingzdfqg so I’ll continue. Is
everything okay with you? ZOE: Everything’s fantastic. I’ve joined a community
dance group. It’s a lot of fun. SERENA: I’m delighted to hear that. Has Tad
joined too? ZOE: Nozdfqg he didn’t want to. But I’m really enjoying it and making
new friends. And I’ll be starting work as a research assistant for Dr. Robinson
soon. I was supposed to start in the fallzdfqg but as I’m still herezdfqg I
offered to get an early start. SERENA: That’s greatzdfqg Zoe. I hope you enjoy it.
And it’ll also help for your future. You can find out if this is what you want to
do as a career. ZOE: That’s exactly why I’m doing it. 49 SERENA: Good…. I was so
pleased to hear from Jason that he’s formed a music group with a couple of guys
and they play old songs togetherzdfqg just for fun. ZOE: I know. And the best
part is… (She hesitates.) SERENA: Yes? Go onzdfqg Zoezdfqg tell me. ZOE: Jason and
I talked about how Dad helped us find these marvelous ac

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tivities. I had a dream where I was dancing and I was full of joy. So the next day
when I saw the notice for the community dance groupzdfqg I signed up right
awayzdfqg before the class was full. SERENA (happily): And you think Dad gave you
the dream? ZOE: I do. The dream was so ethereal. And it was given to me just in
time. I didn’t even mind that Tad didn’t sign up. SERENA: Maybe you have less in
common with him than you thought. ZOE: It seems that way. And the way he and I
are moving apart is so peacefulzdfqg that I feel this was the second reason Dad
arranged all this. SERENA: I’m so grateful that Dad is helping you in such
important ways. And how did he help Jason? ZOE: Jason was walking on campus when
he felt a strong urge to explore a different path. 50 SERENA: Oohzdfqg that’s so
metaphorical… ZOE (laughing): It is. Anywayzdfqg he took that path and came across
these two guys playing old songs on a violin and a dulcimer. He stopped to listen
and they asked him if he plays an instru

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ment. He told them he played the guitar and they asked him to join them. Jason is
having a ball playing music with them now. He feels sure Dad guided him. SERENA:
I believe it too. Jason is so talentedzdfqg but he had not been playing his guitar
recently. Now he has a joyful incentive to keep playing. It’s perfect. But why
were you hesitating to tell mezdfqg sweetie? And Jason didn’t tell me about Dad
helping him either. ZOE: You’re under a lot of stresszdfqg Mom. Jason and I
thought it may make you sad if you haven’t had any communications from Dad lately.
SERENA: Dad is always with me. You and Jason should remember that. And every
instance of his communicationszdfqg whether to mezdfqg youzdfqg or Jasonzdfqg
fills me with joy. ZOE: I’m gladzdfqg Mom. And I’ll tell Jason…. I better go now.
Take care of yourself. And don’t overdo. INTERIOR: HOME OFFICE (LATE MORNING)
SERENA is working at her computer. She looks deeply absorbed in her work. The
phone rings. She picks it up absent-mindedlyzdfqg but looks su

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rprised and concerned when she sees the caller information. 51 SERENA: Nurse
Hollowayzdfqg is everything alright? Alan seemed a bit better yesterdayzdfqg so I
was taking the morning off. I was planning to come in after lunch. NURSE’s voice:
He is better. He’s awake and asking for you. In factzdfqg we’re moving him out of
ICU. SERENA: Ohzdfqg that’s wonderful. He seems…finezdfqg then? NURSE’s voice
(understanding her worry): There’s no brain damage. He’s still weak thoughzdfqg
and not recovered fully. So when you visit himzdfqg you must be careful not to
tire him. SERENA: I’ll be carefulzdfqg I promise. NURSE’s voice: When can you be
here? He’s in Room 305. SERENA: Would an hour or so be okay? I should probably
eat before leaving. NURSE’s voice: Definitely. Come energized. You’ll need it.
SERENA: Thanks againzdfqg Nurse Holloway. NURSE’s voice: You’re welcome.
INTERIOR: ALAN’S HOSPITAL ROOM (DAY) SERENA walks in. ALAN is awake and beams when
he sees her. SERENA smiles at himzdfqg pulls up a chairzdfqg and sits near

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his bed. She puts her hand gently on his arm. SERENA: It’s good to see you
awakezdfqg Alan. 52 ALAN (in a weak voice): I understand you’ve been to the ICU
many times to see me. They tell me you stroked my hair and helped me sleep deeply.
(Smiling) Apparently all that deep sleep speeded my recovery. SERENA: I’m glad it
did. How do you feel? ALAN: Tiredzdfqg achyzdfqg and fatigued…. But delighted
you’re here. (Expansively) I have so much to tell you. SERENA (concerned): But
don’t tire yourself by talking too much too soon. Take it easyzdfqg okay? ALAN (in
a feeble voicezdfqg but insistent): Wellzdfqg let me at least tell you the heart
of it. (Breathlessly) I had a near-death experience. I know God exists. I met my
parents. You and I are supposed to spend the rest of our lives together. SERENA
stares at ALAN with some alarmzdfqg wondering if he’s delirious. ALAN
(disappointed): It seems the shoe is on the other foot now. You don’t believe
mezdfqg do you? SERENA: Wellzdfqg it’s just that… you’ve undergone

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ter. But it’s important you keep recovering. I know you have a lot to 54 tell me.
And I do want to hear it. But we can talk slowlyzdfqg over days. For nowzdfqg
focus on getting restful sleep and on healing. Know that I care for youzdfqg and
I’m here for you. ALAN nods and smiles weakly. SERENA stands up and kisses him on
the head. SERENA: I’ll see you tomorrow. Keep getting better! She leaves. ALAN
stares sadly at the door after she’s gone. INTERIOR: UNIVERSITY LIBRARY
(CONTINUOUS) SERENA is walking in the aisles between library stackszdfqg
carefully choosing and collecting books. She piles them on a table near a window
and keeps searching for more books. EXTERIOR: PATIO (EVENING) SERENA has just
finished her dinner on the patio. She picks up the phone and makes a call. ZOE’s
voice: Hizdfqg Mom. How are you? SERENA: I’m fine. Alan is out of ICU. ZOE’s
voice: That’s great! You really helped himzdfqg Mom. SERENA: I hope so. I’ll still
be going in to see him every day for a while. Can you tell J

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ason and Grandma? ZOE’s voice: I will. And you take care of yourself. 55 INTERIOR:
LIVING ROOM (LATE EVENING) SERENA is sitting on the sofa in her pajamaszdfqg
engrossed in reading a book. The coffee table has several jagged towers of
hastily piled books. INTERIOR: BEDROOM (NIGHT) The room is darkenedzdfqg but we
can see SERENA in bed. She is lying down with her head on her pillowzdfqg but her
eyes are wide open. She seems exhaustedzdfqg but mentally alert. SERENA:
Jeremyzdfqg my lovezdfqg I hope you’re listening. I’ve just finished reading
several books on near-death experiences. I understand the same things happen when
we actually die. So I imagine you’ve been through it all—the tunnelzdfqg the
Lightzdfqg the life reviewzdfqg and meeting loved ones. I always feltzdfqg
instinctivelyzdfqg that you were in a place full of lovezdfqg peacezdfqg and joy.
Nowzdfqg after reading all thiszdfqg I know you arezdfqg and I’m so happy for
youzdfqg darling…. Tomorrowzdfqg I’ll see Alan and hear what he has to say. It may
turn out that we’ll spend the res

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t of our lives together. But I’ll always love you and I look forward to seeing you
when I get to heaven. In the meanwhilezdfqg I’m ever grateful for all you do for
the children and me. Please stay connected to uszdfqg always. INTERIOR: BEDROOM
(MORNING) The sunlight is streaming in on SERENA as she wakes up. She smiles and
looks deeply contented. SERENA (softly): Jeremyzdfqg honeyzdfqg I felt your hug as
I was waking. It was so realzdfqg as if you were physically here. You 56 did the
same thing for mezdfqg several timeszdfqg soon after you were gonezdfqg but not
recently. Back thenzdfqg it was to help me heal. Nowzdfqg I believe it was in
answer to my heartfelt talk with you last night. Thank youzdfqg darling. I love
you! INTERIOR: ALAN’S HOSPITAL ROOM (DAY) ALAN is sleeping. SERENA is sitting in a
chairzdfqg reading. ALAN wakes up and sees her. She smiles at him. SERENA
(pulling her chair closer): How do you feel today? ALAN: Better. The pain’s not so
frequent. SERENA: Ohzdfqg I’m so glad. Andzdfqg did you sleep well? ALAN:

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I did. (Smiling) Someone told me I had to. SERENA: I’m grateful you took it
seriously. Are you allowed to eat? Do you want anything? ALAN: They gave me some
thin porridge this morning. I’m not hungry now. But I’d like some waterzdfqg
please. SERENA picks up ALAN’s cup of water from the side tablezdfqg and holds it
so he can drink out of it. He nods his thanks. SERENA: I read about near-death
experiences all evening yesterday. It’s all so amazing. But I know it’s true. I’m
ready to listen if you’re up to sharing anything today. ALAN is quiet. SERENA
waits patiently. 57 ALAN: I was trying to decide which part to tell you first.
Especially if we’re going to do this over several days. SERENA: Can you tell me
how you know God exists? ALAN: Yeszdfqg that’s the right place to start. When I
crashedzdfqg I felt my spirit leaving my body. I saw my banged up car and my
broken body in it. Then I felt myself rising up. I saw the trees on the side of
the highway and then the tops of the trees. All

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of a sudden I was in a terribly uncomfortable place. The walls were dull colored
and pulsating. There was awful musiczdfqg if you can even call it music. I seemed
stuck there for the longest time. I was completely miserable. Eventually I prayed
for help. SERENA: What did you say? ALAN: I saidzdfqg “Please help me God. I’m not
happy here.” Instantlyzdfqg I was racing through a tunnel with a pinpoint of
light at the end. I could hear melodious soundszdfqg like those made by wind
instruments. The light became larger and larger as I sped toward it. SERENA: So
far it sounds exactly like what I read. But most people went straight to the
tunnel after their out-of-body experience. Only a few started with something
unpleasant. ALAN: Did those people say why that happened? SERENA: Typically they
didn’t believe in God. ALAN (ruefully): Like me. 58 SERENA (nodding): Or in a few
caseszdfqg they were just not ready to die. But they all went through the tunnel
when they prayed for help. Ohzdfqg Alanzdfqg I’m

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so glad you prayed. ALAN: I had to. It was hellzdfqg at least figuratively.
SERENA: It sounds terrible. And then what happened? ALAN: At the end of the tunnel
I went into a world full of Light and Love. The Light was brilliantzdfqg but not
blinding. The Love was immense. I’ve never felt so loved. And in turnzdfqg I
loved everyone and everything. I could have stayed there forever. Laterzdfqg some
beings of light told me that the livingzdfqg loving Light was God. SERENA
(leaning forward and hugging ALAN): How wonderful! I’m so happy for you. (Sitting
back) Your descriptions closely match my reading…. But not everyone seemed to
know that the Light was God. ALAN: I didn’t eitherzdfqg while I was in the Light.
But it was the most spiritualzdfqg the most wondrous experience ever. And I felt
I was home. ALAN closes his eyes and sighs. SERENA: Ohzdfqg you seem so tired.
Would you like to sleep? ALAN (eyes still closed): I do feel worn out. Maybe I
should get some rest. (Sleepily) See you tomorrow? SEREN

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A: Yes. Sleep well and keep getting better! 59 EXTERIOR: RIVER WALK (CONTINUOUS)
SERENA is walking by the river. She looks happy. She sits on a swing and swings
back and forthzdfqg while gazing at the river. A butterfly makes a beeline toward
her from the opposite bankzdfqg and brushes her cheek. SERENA touches her
cheekzdfqg looks upzdfqg and whisperszdfqg “Thank youzdfqg Jeremy.” We hear the
phone ring and the view changes to split screen. It is ZOE callingzdfqg while
sitting on a bench on campuszdfqg near a bush with bright red flowers. SERENA:
Hizdfqg Zoe. I just had a butterfly ADC from Dad! ZOE: How lovely! And what
perfect timing to share it with me. Actuallyzdfqg I wasn’t expecting you to
answerzdfqg Mom. I was just going to record a message. SERENA (joking):
Disappointed? ZOE: Of course not! But how come you’re not at the hospital? You
sound jolly thoughzdfqg so I think all is well. SERENA: It is indeed. Alan’s
accident has made him believe in God. It makes me very happy. ZOE: I hope
everything will work ou

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tzdfqg Mom. SERENA: Thank you. And what were you calling about? ZOE: I was just
going to leave you an upbeat message to say I’m enjoying my research with Dr.
Robinson very much. I think I may well end up a professorzdfqg like you and Dad.
60 SERENA: That is excellent! I’m delighted to hear it…. Ohzdfqg but what about
the trip to Paris? Is it too late to sign up? ZOE: They’re leaving soon. I didn’t
sign up. You and Alan had a falling out just when I found out the details of the
trip. So I decided not to go. SERENA: You gave up the trip for me! ZOE: Nozdfqg I
did it for me. I simply would not have enjoyed itzdfqg worrying about you.
Besideszdfqg Dr. Robinson said he’ll make this an annual thingzdfqg so I can go
next year. SERENA: Wellzdfqg that’s goodzdfqg that you’ll get to go. And now you
can stop worrying about mezdfqg too. They laugh. INTERIOR: ALAN’S HOSPITAL ROOM
(DAY) SERENA walks in. ALAN is awake and grins when he sees her. She goes to him
and kisses him on the head. SERENA (pulling up a chair): You’

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re looking stronger. ALAN: They seem to think sozdfqg too. They gave me thicker
porridge today. And I think it’s made me more energized. SERENA: Great! Would you
like to tell me more now? ALAN (nodding): Wellzdfqg after I experienced the
Lightzdfqg it went into the backgroundzdfqg sort ofzdfqg and three beings of light
61 appeared. They told me it was not my time yet and I would have to go back. But
first I would briefly review my life and they would answer any questions I had.
ALAN coughszdfqg and stops talkingzdfqg a bit out of breath. SERENA: Waitzdfqg
don’t tire yourself out. I read about the life reviewzdfqg so I already have some
idea of what happens. ALAN (softly): Tell me your understanding of it. SERENA: You
see incidents from your whole lifezdfqg on a kind of panoramic screenzdfqg almost
simultaneously. You see it from the perspective of the recipients of your actions.
You fully experience the good and bad you have done to others. ALAN: That’s
exactly what it was. You did your homework very well indeed.

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SERENA (smiling): Thank you. ALAN: A lot of it was terribly uncomfortable. I saw
how I grieved the three women I broke up with. I could have been much kinder. I
understood how even casual remarks I made hurt people—studentszdfqg
colleagueszdfqg strangers. I’m determined to be a better person now. SERENA: Good
for you. We all need to do that. ALAN: But most of allzdfqg I was shocked by how
much pain I caused you. I had no idea I wounded you in our discussions and by my
attitude. 62 SERENA (quietly): It’s okay. ALAN: Do you forgive me? SERENA: I do.
It’s in the past now. ALAN: I’ll try very hard never to hurt you again. But if I
start tozdfqg will you stop me? And help me be a better person? SERENA: I will....
If we could just be mindful that we have to experience everything we do to
otherszdfqg we could all be better people. ALAN nods and becomes pensive. SERENA:
Did you ask the beings of light any questions? ALAN: Yes. I asked them about God.
They said the Light I experienced was God.

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That made perfect sense. I had felt deeply loved and fully loving in turn when I
was in the Light. I also felt I understood the reason for everything. So that’s
who God is—ultimate love and ultimate wisdom. SERENA: And from what I’ve readzdfqg
even though it sounds weirdzdfqg we’re all part of God. ALAN: Definitely. I felt
I was homezdfqg that I belonged in that wondrous space. I not only understand now
that God existszdfqg but I know we all come from God. SERENA: I’m very happy to
hear thiszdfqg Alan. 63 ALAN: I’m glad. I want more than anything to make you
happyzdfqg Serena. SERENA gets up and kisses him on the head again. ALAN closes
his eyes and smiles. SERENA: Did you ask any other questions? ALAN: I
thoughtzdfqg “I’ve been here beforezdfqg haven’t I?” And they repliedzdfqg “Yes.”
All our communication was telepathic. SERENA: I know that from my reading. ALAN: I
asked if I’d been on earth before this life. And they saidzdfqg “Many times. But
this is not the occasion to review those lives.” SERENA: Sozdfqg

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reincarnation is true. I had wondered. It makes sense that we need several
lifetimes to grow. ALAN: We probably review all earth lives again when we die.
Anywayzdfqg I also asked the beings if we need to keep coming back until we reach
perfectionzdfqg or Nirvanazdfqg that I’d read about in theology. They said coming
back is voluntary for souls that have reached a certain level of advancement. And
it’s not as a reward or punishment. It’s for spiritual growth or to do something
that cannot be done in the spirit dimension. (Yawning) I didn’t ask any more
questions. SERENA (smiling): And I won’t either. (Getting up) I think you need to
rest nowzdfqg and I’ll see you tomorrow. ALAN nods as he closes his eyeszdfqg
apparently worn out. 64 EXTERIOR: PATIO (AFTERNOON) SERENA is walking in her
backyardzdfqg talking on the phone. SERENA: …I’m glad Zoe’s been keeping you
updatedzdfqg Mom. I just wanted to tell you that there may be a future for Alan
and mezdfqg after all. His accident has made him believe in God

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three beings were. Anywayzdfqg I was overjoyed to see my parents. They said they
had been my guardian angels all my lifezdfqg protecting me and helping me. You
were absolutely rightzdfqg Serena. SERENA grins. ALAN: I thanked them from my
heart. I asked if they knew about you. They said they and Jeremy brought us
together. SERENA (astonished): Jeremy! ALAN: I was amazedzdfqg too. They explained
that all of us are part of the same soul mate group. SERENA: Soul mate group?
Does that refer to a group of souls bound in eternal love? I read about it. ALAN:
Yes. Each group meets in heaven. They plan lives on earth together. They choose
different roles they will play within a family—as parents or children. They help
each other achieve their spiritual goalszdfqg whether in heaven or on earth. But
they may not always meet on earth as planned. SERENA: Wellzdfqg I already knew
that Jeremyzdfqg the children and I are bound in eternal love. But I’m delighted
to know you are part of our group toozdfqg and all our par

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ents. 66 ALAN: I feel so ashamed now that I mocked you when you pictured all of us
in heaven together. How did you know? SERENA: Just intuition perhaps. Or hope?
ALAN: Or remembering the truth from experience? SERENA: That could be…. Maybe
that’s what intuition iszdfqg deep-seated knowledge. ALAN: You’re right. We all
have that wisdom deep inside of us. But not all of us are as tuned in to it as you
are. SERENA: Perhaps I’m more tuned inzdfqg as you call itzdfqg because Jeremy is
helping me. ALAN: Perhaps. But my parents were helping mezdfqg and still I was
not at all tuned in. SERENA: Maybe you were too young to recognize any spirit
communication. Or maybe they didn’t try because you were so young. They simply
focused on helping you. ALAN: I never thought of asking my parents about this. But
I think most people don’t recognize ADCs. Sadzdfqg isn’t it? SERENA: Wait! I don’t
understand something. Were you and I supposed to meet? Was Jeremy’s death planned?
ALAN: Nozdfqg and not my parents’ dea

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ask him to give permissionzdfqg so I can discuss his condition with the doctors or
with you. When he wakes upzdfqg can you please ask him about this? Thanks so much.
EXTERIOR: PATIO (EVENING) SERENA is eating dinner when the phone rings. SERENA:
Nurse Hollowayzdfqg thanks for calling back. NURSE’s voice: Sure. Mr. Wyatt has
given permission for you to discuss his condition with the medical staff. 69
SERENA: Thank you! Alan seems to be recuperating wellzdfqg doesn’t he? NURSE’s
voice: He is. But he needs more rest to recover completely. We don’t plan to
discharge him until he can eat better and move about a bit. SERENA: Will any of
his injuries create long term issues? NURSE’s voice: Nozdfqg we don’t think so.
SERENA: Will he need nursing care after he is discharged? NURSE’s voice: We’ll
have to gauge that later. INTERIOR: ALAN’S HOSPITAL ROOM (DAY) ALAN is sitting up
in bedzdfqg eating porridge and cut-up fruit. A NURSE is in the roomzdfqg making
notes from the equipment. SERENA walks in. She loo
__SEP__
ks surprised and pleased. SERENA: Ohzdfqg my! You’re sitting up and eating by
yourself. Fruitzdfqg too. That’s great! ALAN grins. The NURSE finishes making her
noteszdfqg smiles at themzdfqg and goes out of the room. SERENA: I understand from
Nurse Holloway that you’re making excellent progress. And I can see itzdfqg too.
ALAN (looking at her pointedly): I’ve had good medicine. 70 SERENA laughs. She
pulls up a chair and sits down. ALAN: They’ll start physical therapy soon. And
expand my diet. I’ve told them I’m vegetarianzdfqg and they said they can handle
it. I’m looking forward to eating veggies and beans. SERENA: It all sounds
promising. ALAN: How are the children? SERENA: Still busy and happy. ALAN: Good.
I’m planning to call my aunt today. She must have left several voice mails and
must be wondering why I haven’t called back. I’ll minimize the accident and
hospital bit so she won’t worry too much…. Shall I tell her about us? SERENA:
Yes. That way she’ll worry even less. ALAN: Have you to

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ld your parents? SERENA: I have. By the wayzdfqg who’s Anne White? ALAN (taken
aback): What? SERENA: Was she one of your girl friends? ALAN: How did you know?
SERENA (mysteriously): I have connections. ALAN stares at herzdfqg curious and
puzzled. 71 SERENA (laughing): I’m just kidding. The nurse who called me said you
had phoned Anne White a short while before you crashed. The nurse left her a
message about your accidentzdfqg but Anne never called her back. ALAN: She
obviously wants nothing to do with me. SERENA: Does that make you sad? ALAN: Not
at all. I called her in desperation. I thought there was no future for you and me.
I was lonely and distraught. SERENA: When exactly were you involved with Anne?
ALAN: We met about a year ago. SERENA: So that’s why our angels waited for a while
even after Jason left home. They had to wait till you were ready. ALAN: You’re
right. I didn’t even think of that yesterday. SERENA: It’s okay. I understand the
timing better now. But coming bac

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k to Anne for a minutezdfqg what did she say when you called her? And what made
you crash? ALAN: She never answeredzdfqg nor returned my call. I went over to try
to see herzdfqg but she didn’t answer the bell. I was caught in the rain coming
back and swerved to avoid a truck speeding toward me while going over the
centerline. SERENA: And hit a tree! ALAN: Yes. You know the rest. 72 SERENA:
Ohzdfqg Alanzdfqg I’m so grateful you weren’t killed. ALAN: Mezdfqg too. But I got
a taste of death…and found out some wondrous truths. I shudder to think where I
would be now if that hadn’t happened. ALAN holds out his handzdfqg and SERENA
puts her hand in his. SERENA: True. We would not be here together otherwise. ALAN:
Do you think my accident was planned in heaven? SERENA: Nozdfqg I cannot imagine
your parents would want you to be hurt so badly. ALAN: But how else would I have
had a near-death experience? SERENA: You might have stumbled on the truth in some
other way. There’s no point in conjecturing about all
__SEP__
that. What I do know is that your parentszdfqg your guardian angelszdfqg helped
you recover quickly from very serious injuries. ALAN (grinning): My earth angel
played a big rolezdfqg too. SERENA smiles and squeezes his hand lovingly. ALAN
(brightly): And you were right about Jeremy. He’s your guardian angel and the
children’s too. 73 SERENA (surprised at his stating the obvious): I know thatzdfqg
of course. (Understanding him) Ohzdfqg do you mean your parents said so? ALAN:
Yes. I asked them specifically. They even said he would continue watching over
youzdfqg when you and I build a life together. SERENA: I know he will…. But I’m
glad you know thatzdfqg too. ALAN: It makes me so happy to think of our building a
life together. (Hesitating) But I guess you would like to wait till I am
completely well to make a formal commitment. SERENA: It’s not necessary to wait.
The only thing standing between us was your doubt in God and in eternal love.
That’s all gone now. And our being together was lovingly a

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rranged by Jeremy and your parents. (Smiling) It’s all settled. Don’t you feel the
same? ALAN: I’m delighted about our futurezdfqg Serena. SERENA hugs himzdfqg and
kisses him on the head. ALAN (playfully): When do I get a real kiss? SERENA
(laughing): When you’re stronger. Right now we need to keep you free of germs.
ALAN: Another incentive to get well speedily…. But when should we plan to get
married? The doctor said I may recover in time to teach in the fall. 74 SERENA:
Really? If that’s the casezdfqg we could plan a late summer wedding. A quiet
onezdfqg with just the family. ALAN: You mean Zoe and Jason. SERENA: I do. And my
parents. And your aunt and uncle. But let’s wait to announce this until we’re sure
you’re on track to teach in the fall. ALAN: I agree. But shall we buy a new
house? SERENA: Nozdfqg just move in with me. But keep your apartment until after
the wedding so we have enough space to host everyone. ALAN: You mean my aunt and
uncle can stay with me at the apartment? SE

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RENA: No. I have a bigzdfqg four-bedroom house. We were able to buy a large
housezdfqg even in Californiazdfqg because the prices had dipped when we moved
here. Zoe and Jason have their own rooms. My parents can have the master
bedroomzdfqg and your aunt and uncle the guest room. ALAN: Ohzdfqg I see. And the
two of us in my apartment? SERENA (smiling): Wellzdfqg it will be our
honeymoonzdfqg won’t it? ALAN: Excellent planningzdfqg I must say. Had you given
all of this some thought? SERENA: Nozdfqg it just came to me. 75 ALAN: Well
since you’re on a rollzdfqg where should we get married? SERENA: The pavilion at
the river walk? ALAN: Perfect. And the ceremony? SERENA: We can ask a justice of
the peace to perform it and say our own vows. And we can celebrate with lunch at
the Riverside Tavern. They have many vegetarian options. ALAN: Terrific…. But I
must insist on one thing. When I’m dischargedzdfqg I’ll go to my apartmentzdfqg
not your house. SERENA: But who would take care of you? ALAN: You can help me by
setting
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up home carezdfqg including nursing as neededzdfqg as well as meals and
housecleaning. SERENA: I’ll be glad tozdfqg if that’s what you want. ALAN: It is.
I don’t like the thought of moving in to your house while I’m convalescing. I’ll
move in when we marryzdfqg when I’m strong again…. Alsozdfqg this wayzdfqg Zoe and
Jason can come home whenever they wish and stay as long as they likezdfqg without
having their mom fussing over an invalid. You can bring them over to meet me at
the apartment. SERENA: That’s very thoughtful of youzdfqg darling. They gaze at
each otherzdfqg smiling happilyzdfqg and still holding hands. It is obvious that
the future looks bright to them. 76 ACT THREE: BUT IS IT REAL? INTERIOR: ALAN’S
APARTMENT (TWO WEEKS LATER) It is a small apartment. ALAN is walking with some
difficulty in the living roomzdfqg using a walker. SERENA is alongside. A
wheelchair is in one cornerzdfqg ready to usezdfqg if needed. SERENA: Isn’t it
nice that your discharge from the hospital went so smoothly yesterday? ALAN (a bit
ou

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t of breath): Thanks for being there to help me. I needed it. Hope you rested well
last night. SERENA: I did. But you seem tiredzdfqg Alan. I wish you’d had some
breakfast first. Perhaps you should rest a bit now. ALAN nodszdfqg walks over to
the sofazdfqg and sits down. SERENA (walking over briskly to the kitchen): I do
think some breakfast will do you good. She starts fixing breakfast in the small
kitchen adjoining the living/dining area. She quickly fries eggszdfqg makes
toastzdfqg fills a glass with orange juicezdfqg and cuts up an apple. ALAN gets
upzdfqg walks over to the dining table using his walkerzdfqg and sits down
wearily. SERENA brings the breakfast dishes over at once. ALAN starts to eat
ravenously. SERENA (leaning against a kitchen counter): I’ll tell the home care
service to come in a couple of hours earlier from tomorrow. That way you can have
breakfast and then walk. 77 ALAN (between mouthfuls): Good ideazdfqg honey.
SERENA: Zoe and Jason arrive today. I’ll spend tomorrow with them and b

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A: My pleasure…. You know the physical therapist will come tomorrow and every
other day after that? ALAN: I remember. SERENA: And the nurse will visit once a
weekzdfqg for three weeks. I’ll try to be here when she comes. ALAN: If it
workszdfqg sure. If notzdfqg I’ll fill you in. They kiss brieflyzdfqg and SERENA
gets ready to leave. ALAN: Have fun with the children! SERENA: Thank you. Take care
and keep getting stronger! EXTERIOR: PATIO (EVENING) SERENAzdfqg ZOEzdfqg and
JASON are having dinner on the patio. They all seem relaxed and happy to be
together. SERENA: It’s great to have you both home. ZOE: It’s wonderful to be
homezdfqg Mom. 80 JASON (nodding): And dinner was delicious. SERENA: I’m glad you
enjoyed it. ZOE: I didzdfqg too. I’ll help you cook from tomorrowzdfqg Mom. And
Jason can do the dishes. JASON: Hey! Wait a minute…. ZOE (glibly): Like old times.
We all pitch inzdfqg remember? JASON: Ohzdfqg alright. In factzdfqg I’ll do the
dishes todayzdfqg too. And you can helpzdfqg Missy. ZOE: What? Me? (Joking) Not a
cha
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ncezdfqg mister! SERENA laughszdfqg happy to have the children homezdfqg and
seeing their easygoing bantering. SERENA: I thought we could go to Veggie Delight
tomorrow for lunchzdfqg and walk by the river afterwards. ZOE: That’s a lovely
plan. JASON: I like itzdfqg too. SERENA: And we can go see Alan the next day.
After lunch. JASON: Where does he live? SERENA: Close to campus. In an apartment.
81 ZOE: How is he doing? SERENA: Much better. He’s come a long way. But he still
has to rest and recuperate. ZOE: Sozdfqg are you guys an item now? SERENA
(smiling): We are. He knows now that God exists. He also knows love is eternal.
His not understanding all this was the only thing in the wayzdfqg as you know.
JASON: But what made him start believing in God? SERENA: He had a near-death
experience when he crashed. Do you know what that is? ZOE: Is that where dying
people go through a tunnel and see heaven? SERENA: Yes. Many meet their departed
loved oneszdfqg too. JASON: Isn’t that supposed to be just delus

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ions? I saw a movie that made fun of the whole thing. SERENA: There will always
be non-believers. But there is enough evidence to show the phenomenon is real. I
have some scholarly books on the coffee table about it. You both can look through
them to understand it all better. Neither of them shows much enthusiasm for the
idea. SERENA: Just so you knowzdfqg Alan still needs a walker and sometimes a
wheelchair. We’ve had his tub set up so he 82 can get inzdfqg sit on a
platformzdfqg and take a shower on his own. We’ve also set up home care service
for him. ZOE: What do they do? SERENA: They cook and clean for him. They can
support him in walking if he needs assistance. They can help with anything a
family member would do. JASON: I’m glad he didn’t expect you to do it. SERENA:
Wellzdfqg I would have been happy tozdfqg but he wanted to spare me the trouble.
ZOE: Good. It would have been too tiring for youzdfqg Mom. SERENA: Maybe…. But if
we were marriedzdfqg I would have. JASON (laughing): But you

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he piles of books on the coffee table. They are talking softly. JASON: What do
you think about Mom marrying Alan? ZOE: It’s strange she decided tozdfqg before we
even met him. JASON: I agree…. I hope he’s not making it up. That he had a near-
death experience. Just to get her to marry him. ZOE: Ohzdfqg I hope not. ZOE
flips through some of the books. JASON doeszdfqg too. ZOE: I wonder if he read
about near-death experiences and was thinking of telling Mom he had changed his
thinking… 84 JASON: …But when he crashedzdfqg he realized he could claim he had a
near-death experience himself! That would be more convincing. ZOE: At least he
didn’t fake the accident. His injuries were real. JASON: I know. He must have
come up with the idea in the hospitalzdfqg after reviving from the surgeries.
ZOE: How will we know for sure? JASON: Wellzdfqg we can get a better idea after we
meet him. ZOE (nodding): Don’t say anything to Mom meanwhile. JASON: I won’t. And
you don’t either. We need to figure this out tog
__SEP__
etherzdfqg and then decide what to do. INTERIOR: RESTAURANT (NOON) SERENAzdfqg
ZOEzdfqg and JASON are enjoying lunch. SERENA: How’s the music group coming
alongzdfqg Jason? Are you enjoying it? JASON: Very much. Rick and Francis have
gone home right now. We’ll pick it up after we all go back. It’s a lot of fun.
SERENA: I noticed you’ve brought your guitar. Will you play some of your group’s
favorite songs for Zoe and me? JASON: Sure. I’d love tozdfqg Mom. 85 SERENA: And
how’s your art history research going with Dr. Robinsonzdfqg Zoe? ZOE: It’s
great. I love it. But we’re on a break now. He’s in Paris with the students who
signed up. We’ll resume after they return. And continue in the fall. SERENA:
Good. And Jasonzdfqg any thoughts about your major? JASON: I like history. But I
hear the job prospects are poor. SERENA: Don’t worry about that. Do what you
enjoy. JASON: I do enjoy it. But I don’t know how to choose a topic or how to do
the research. Will you help me? SERENA: Certainlyzdfqg if I can. Bu

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t it’s not my area. It should be part of your university education to learn how to
do all this. You could also try to get an assistantship as Zoe didzdfqg and learn
through working with a professor. JASON: I’ve talked to a couple of professors
alreadyzdfqg but no one wants an undergrad as an assistant. SERENA: Wellzdfqg we
could ask Alan. He may be able to help. JASON frowns. Zoe gives him a quickzdfqg
warning glance. JASON (recovering): Yeahzdfqg surezdfqg Mom. 86 A succession of
shots: The three are walking by the river; ZOE is helping SERENA cook dinner; they
all are enjoying dinner on the patiozdfqg laughing and talking. INTERIOR: LIVING
ROOM (NIGHT) SERENA and ZOE are sitting on the sofa. SERENA: Do you still see Tad?
ZOE: Nozdfqg we’ve broken up completely. But amicably. I think we both realized we
were not right for each other. SERENA: I’m glad you both recognized thiszdfqg and
that the parting was friendly. I hope you’re not lonely or sad. ZOE: Nozdfqg I’m
at peace. And hopeful for the future. SERENA

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(hugging her): That’s my girl! JASON walks in from the kitchen and sits on a sofa
chair. SERENA: Thank youzdfqg Jasonzdfqg for doing the dishes. JASON: No
problemzdfqg Mom. And againzdfqg dinner was delicious. SERENA: I’m happy you
enjoyed itzdfqg dear. And thankszdfqg Zoezdfqg for helping me cook. ZOE: It was
fun. SERENA (looking at the piles of books on the coffee table): And did you two
read any of these books last night? 87 ZOE: We glanced at them. SERENA: Do you
have any questions? JASON: When Alan told you about his experiencezdfqg did it
sound like the descriptions in these books? SERENA: Very similar. ZOE and JASON
exchange quick glances. JASON: What did he say? SERENA: Wellzdfqg he went through
the tunnelzdfqg experienced the divine Lightzdfqg and met his parents. They told
him they were watching over him. You knowzdfqg like Dad does for us. ZOE: Had you
told Alan that Dad watches over us? SERENA: Yes. (Laughing) But he hadn’t believed
it then. JASON: And this is what made him believe in God? SERENA: He ex

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perienced God. It was wonderful. (Looking at the books) Other people also started
believing in God after their experience. JASON: The books say that? SERENA: They
do. (Slightly exasperated) Why don’t you read them? They’re very enlightening. 88
ZOE: Okayzdfqg Mom. We will. SERENA (yawning): I’m going to bed. I’ve been up a
lot longer than you two. ZOE: Ohzdfqg you must be tired. It’s been a long day for
you. (Kissing SERENA) Good nightzdfqg Mom. SERENA (kissing ZOE): Good nightzdfqg
darling. JASON (kissing SERENA): Good nightzdfqg Mom. SERENA (kissing JASON):
Good nightzdfqg sweetie. (To both) Don’t stay up too late! ZOE and JASON
(together): We won’t! SERENA leaves. ZOE and JASON look at each other. ZOE: What
do you think? JASON: So far everything supports our suspicions. ZOE: But we
should keep our minds open. Wait till we meet him tomorrow. (Handing JASON a book)
Herezdfqg look through that. (Picking up another book) I’ll look though this one.
They flip through the books quicklyzdfqg only pau

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Our job is to find out if Alan is tricking Mom. ZOE: I agree. We need to protect
her. 90 INTERIOR: ALAN’S APARTMENT (AFTERNOON) ALAN is in a wheelchair. He looks
weakzdfqg but expectant. The doorbell rings. He wheels himself over to open the
door. SERENA comes in and kisses him. ZOE and JASON walk inzdfqg looking a bit
awkward. SERENA introduces everyone. SERENA: Oh! But you look exhaustedzdfqg
darling. ALAN: I didn’t sleep too well last night. Maybe I had too much physical
therapy. SERENA: You should have called me and cancelled. We could have come
tomorrow instead. You know how important proper rest is for your recovery. ALAN:
I’m okayzdfqg honey. Don’t worry. I’ve been looking forward to meeting Zoe and
Jason. Meanwhile ZOE and JASON have been glancing around at the apartmentzdfqg
not looking too pleased. When ALAN mentions themzdfqg they smilezdfqg but still
seem a bit distant. SERENA: Come onzdfqg you two. Sit downzdfqg make yourselves at
home. ALAN: Would anyone like something to drink? Or eat?

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SERENA: We’ve just had lunchzdfqg so don’t worry about us. ZOE (to ALAN): How are
you feeling? 91 ALAN: I’m recovering wellzdfqg on the whole. Just a bit tired
today. ZOE and JASON don’t respond. ALAN: How are you both enjoying being home?
ZOE: It’s wonderfulzdfqg as always. JASON: Yes. It’s good to see Mom. SERENA
smiles. ALAN doeszdfqg too. ALAN: Sozdfqg what have you all been doing? SERENA:
We had lunch at Veggie Delight yesterday. And did the river walk. ALAN: Sounds
great. ZOE: Other than thatzdfqg just relaxing at home. SERENA: They’re helping me
cook and clean. JASON: And we did some reading on near-death experiences…. Mom
insisted. ALAN looks surprised. ZOE glares at JASON. SERENA looks uncomfortable.
ALAN: Honeyzdfqg you didn’t have to do that. 92 SERENA: I just wanted them to
understand what you had been through. Everyone is quiet for a bit. JASON: Mom
said you met your parents. ALAN nodszdfqg but doesn’t say anything. He looks as if
he’s wondering how much SERENA has revealed. ZOE: And

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that you experienced God. ALAN nods againzdfqg but now looks questioningly at
SERENA. SERENA: That’s pretty much all I said. JASON: You did mention the tunnel.
SERENA: That’s right. (To ALAN) I only mentioned it as a common feature of the
near-death experience. ALAN doesn’t say anything. JASON: I wonder why everyone
goes through a tunnel. SERENA: It serves as a metaphor—for a bridge from one
world to another. Some people actually saw a bridge instead of a tunnel. ALAN
(drawn in): I didn’t know that. 93 SERENA: I’ll bring the books over after Zoe and
Jason go back. I’m sure you’ll enjoy reading them and comparing everything to
your own experience. ALAN (musing): Yeszdfqg that would be interesting. JASON:
You’ve never read about near-death experiences? ALAN: No. ZOE: But you’ve read
about ADCszdfqg I meanzdfqg after-death communicationszdfqg haven’t you? ALAN: I
have. (Grinning) Mom insisted. SERENA (laughing): It didn’t helpzdfqg did it?
ALAN: No. I was a reductionist. SERENA and ALAN s

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mile meaningfully at each other. JASON (abruptly changing the subject): You teach
anthropology? ALAN: I do. ZOE: And what type of research do you do? ALAN: I
study different cultures and also archaeology. I write articles and bookszdfqg
pretty much as your mother does. I understand you’re interested in art history.
ZOE nods. 94 ALAN: And that you gave up a trip to Pariszdfqg worrying about your
Mom. ZOE: Mom always comes first for us. JASON: Yes. We always make sure she’s
okay. SERENA (frowning): You guys are giving Alan the impression that I need
looking after. ZOE: Sorryzdfqg I didn’t mean that. JASON: Mezdfqg neither. ZOE:
It’s just that we feel we need to look out for her… JASON: …as she does for us.
ALAN: I understand. Nothing wrong with that. (Smiling at SERENA) They love
youzdfqg that’s all. SERENA (smiling): I know. Would anyone like some water?
Everyone nods. SERENA goes to the kitchen. ALAN: And Jason? Have you picked a
major yet? JASON: No. ALAN: Wellzdfqg there’s time. What

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subjects do you enjoy? 95 JASON is quiet. ALAN looks surprised. ZOE looks
embarrassed at JASON’s silence. ZOE: He likes history. But he finds it difficult.
JASON glares at ZOE. ALAN: Wellzdfqg that can be part of the challenge. It’s
better to choose a subject you enjoyzdfqg even if it’s difficult. Too many
students take something easyzdfqg and end up not liking what they do in life.
SERENA is back and hands glasses of water to everyone. SERENA: Sound advicezdfqg
Alan. I was telling Jason earlier that he could ask you for guidance in working on
his papers. ALAN: Sure. I’ll be happy to help. Will your next history class be in
the fall? JASON: Actually I’ve registered for cultural history in the second
summer session. It’ll start in two weeks. SERENA (surprised): I didn’t know
thatzdfqg sweetie. When did you decide on this? JASON: Wellzdfqg I wasn’t sure
about our summer plans with you being busy and all. So I decided to get a head
start. SERENA: Good for youzdfqg Jason. And Zoe’s getting a head s

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tart on her research skills. I’m proud of both of you. 96 ALAN: Yeszdfqg most
commendable. Wellzdfqg Jasonzdfqg let me know if I can help in any way. We can
communicate by emailzdfqg too. JASON (a bit grudgingly): Thank you. SERENA (to
ALAN): I hate to cut our visit shortzdfqg honeyzdfqg but I do think you should
rest. ALAN: I guess so. I do feel a bit worn out. (To ZOE and JASON) It was very
nice to meet you both. And I look forward to getting to know you better. ZOE and
JASON (standing up): Nice meeting youzdfqg too. SERENA: Rest wellzdfqg honey.
We’ll talk in the morning as usual. But call any time if you need anything. ALAN:
Okay. But I’m all set upzdfqg so don’t worry. SERENA: And don’t overdo the
physical therapy tomorrow. Sleeping well is more important. ALAN (grinning):
Yeszdfqg ma’am. SERENA kisses ALAN. ZOE and JASON wave to him and he waves back.
The three go out the front door. EXTERIOR: CAR (CONTINUOUS) They are driving along
back roads. Rich green trees border the roads and there is very litt

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le traffic. SERENA: Wellzdfqg what did you think? 97 ZOE: He seems nice. SERENA:
He is. Jason? JASON: Yeahzdfqg he seems nice. SERENA: I’m sorry I had to cut the
visit short. But he needs to rest. We can go back in a couple of days. ZOE and
JASON don’t respond. SERENA: Don’t you want to get to know him better? ZOE: Of
course. JASON: Yeah. SERENA notices their lack of enthusiasmzdfqg but doesn’t say
anything. She looks a little sad. ZOE: Can we walk by the river? SERENA
(quietly): Sure. EXTERIOR: PATIO (EVENING) The family is relaxing on the patio
after having dinner. ZOE: How come Alan never marriedzdfqg Mom? SERENA: He never
found the right person all this time. 98 JASON: And you’re her? SERENA (smiling):
Apparently so. JASON: But is he the right person for youzdfqg or was Dad? ZOE:
Jason! SERENA: It’s okayzdfqg Zoe. Dad was the right person for mezdfqg as you
both know. But now that he’s no longer on earthzdfqg Alan is the right person to
spend the rest of my life with. ZOE: How do you knowzdfqg Mo

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ntroduction 1 Angels 2 Our Connection to God 3 Guardian Angels 4 Soul Mates 9
Incorrect Depictions of Angels 12 Abilities of Spirits 17 Receiving ADCs 20 Ongoing
ADCs 27 Dying 29 Life Review 32 Soul Purpose 36 Spirituality and Love 38 Heaven and
Hell 40 What Heaven is Like 45 Reincarnation 54 The Special Case of Children 59
What about Animals? 61 Conclusion 62 Annotated Filmography 63 Glossary 115
Annotated Bibliography 116 About the Author 119 1 Are Angels and Heaven Depicted
Correctly in Films? by Pratibha A. Dabholkarzdfqg Ph.D. Introduction The primary
purpose of films is entertainment. Most of the movies discussed here fulfill that
purpose very well. Only a few of them do not. But even the entertaining ones do
not always succeed in the secondary purpose of enlightenment; for somezdfqg it is
not even an objective. This book examines how films have portrayed angelszdfqg
heavenzdfqg and supernatural phenomenazdfqg and how closely these depictions tie
in with knowledge we have gained from t

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he near-death experience (NDE) and after-death communication (ADC) literatures.
[If you are unfamiliar with NDEszdfqg ADCszdfqg and other spirit experienceszdfqg
please first read the Glossary (pp. 115-116) and my book Heaven is Not a Distant
Place.] It is impossible to write evaluations of movies in this context without
giving away parts of the plot or the endings. Most likelyzdfqg readers will
already have seen many of these filmszdfqg so it should not be an issue. But if
this is of concern to youzdfqg note the titles in the filmography firstzdfqg see
the movies you have missedzdfqg and then read the book. Alternatelyzdfqg you can
read and enjoy the book firstzdfqg and then see the films (even the ones you have
seen before) to appreciate them from a different perspective. 2 Angels Most films
correctly show angels as goodzdfqg but a few show them as evil. I do not include
the latter type. They are not only wrong-mindedzdfqg they violate the reason for
our being herezdfqg whichzdfqg as people who have had NDEs (i.e.zdfqg near-d

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eath “experiencers” or NDErs) tell uszdfqg is to spread love and joyzdfqg become
wiserzdfqg and grow spiritually. But who exactly are angels? Moviemakers tend to
portray good people (even after they die) as different from angelszdfqg based on
archaic religious myths. But we know from NDEs and ADCs that this is not the case.
Any departed soul that has gone to the Light (another word for heaven or for God)
is an angel. The excellent Highway to Heaven television series (1984-1989)
correctly shows Michael Landon’s character as having lived on earth before he
became an angel. Several filmszdfqg Angels in the Outfield (1951)zdfqg Charley and
the Angel (1973)zdfqg and A Rumor of Angels (2001)zdfqg also accurately depict
that angels are simply people who have lived previously on earth and are now in
heaven. Both NDEs and ADCs reveal that departed spirits in heaven are fully
capable of all the “magical” actions people often attribute to angels. An angel is
not a separate entity but simply a spirit created by

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Godzdfqg that has spent some time on earth and is now back in the spirit realm. 3
Our Connection to God The truth is we all come from God and our souls are made of
consciousness and energyzdfqg just as God is. We know this from NDEs as well as
mystical experiences that people have had. Of coursezdfqg Godzdfqg the Creator of
everyonezdfqg is boundless in lovezdfqg wisdomzdfqg and understandingzdfqg whereas
humans have many faults to overcome. Neverthelesszdfqg when people have NDEs or
mystical experienceszdfqg they intensely experience the wonder and expansive love
that is Godzdfqg and realize that we are all an intrinsic part of God. The
remarkable movie The Razor’s Edge (1946)zdfqg based on an unusual book by Somerset
Maughamzdfqg is unique in suggesting this temporary merging with God. The
protagonistzdfqg played by Tyrone Powerzdfqg is desperate to understand the
meaning of life. Alone in a mountain retreatzdfqg he has a mystical experience in
which he feels one with God and blissfully feels deep love for everyone and
everythin

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gzdfqg which is exactly what NDErs have felt during their time in heaven. In
contrastzdfqg Defending Your Life (1991) does not acknowledge Godzdfqg and sees
the universe as a big machine. Phenomenon (1996) does not mention God eitherzdfqg
but it correctly says our souls are who we really are and our essence is energy.
Many films do refer to Godzdfqg which is good; but they do so in religious
termszdfqg not recognizing the deep metaphysical connection of our souls with God.
4 In Resurrection (1980)zdfqg Ellen Burstyn plays a woman who has an NDE (in an
accident where her husband is killed) and experiences the Light before being
pulled back to her body. Although she does not explicitly say that the Light is
Godzdfqg she implies that it is. She says that the Light is bright and loving and
you realize that you are part of it. This is exactly as reported in the NDE
literaturezdfqg which recognizes the livingzdfqg loving Light as God. Most films
lack this deep understanding about God. For examplezdfqg in The Preacher’

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s Wife (1996)zdfqg a prayer starts withzdfqg “Lordzdfqg I know you’re especially
busy this time of yearzdfqg” showing a simplistic conception of Godzdfqg similar
to that of Santa Claus. Alsozdfqg it is strange for a preacher to sayzdfqg
“Lordzdfqg if you’re really up therezdfqg I need some helpzdfqg” when his car does
not start. It shows doubt in the existence of Godzdfqg to say the least. There are
also songs about God as King and God’s thronezdfqg which show the movie’s lack of
real understanding about God. (The film does have some correct depictionszdfqg
discussed later in the filmography.) Guardian Angels We know from NDEs and ADCs
that guardian angels are our own departed loved ones. NDErs have related that
they met their loved ones in the spirit worldzdfqg and were told that these angels
were watching over and protecting them. ADC recipients have asserted that loved
ones in the spirit dimension communicated that they were looking 5 after them and
helping them through earth life. It is not a worker who has to “earn his

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wings.” And yetzdfqg many classic films that show spirits or angels helping
peoplezdfqg such as Here Comes Mr. Jordan (1941) and It’s a Wonderful Life
(1946)zdfqg err in showing them as workers for Godzdfqg assigned to help
someonezdfqg and unrelated to them except as part of their job. Similarlyzdfqg
Defending Your Life (1991) and Afterlife (1998)zdfqg which depict way stations
rather than heavenzdfqg show case workers assigned to help incoming souls.
Ironicallyzdfqg even the Highway to Heaven television series which correctly shows
an angel as having previously lived on earthzdfqg shows him as God’s employee
assigned to help different people in every episode. It works well as a plot
device (and it is humorous that he calls God “boss”) but this depiction is totally
incorrect based on knowledge gained from NDEs and ADCs. The same is true for the
movies Charley and the Angel and Angels in the Outfield mentioned earlier. In
Charley and the Angelzdfqg it actually would have made sense to show the angel as
Charley

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’s departed father or unclezdfqg since it was just for one story and not for
repeated episodes. In Angels in the Outfieldzdfqg on hearing that the angel is a
former baseball playerzdfqg the team’s manager asks the angel if they knew each
other. But the angel says “maybe” and refuses to reveal who he is. When the
manager says it 6 would be nice to knowzdfqg the angel rudely replies that it is
none of his business. This is exactly the opposite of loving ADCs where the
recipient knows who is communicating and values this precious knowledge. In the
same filmzdfqg the angels are “assigned” to the team by an archangelzdfqg which
devalues the truth of guardian angels being our own loved ones. Alsozdfqg a
minister in the movie stateszdfqg “to deny angels is to deny the bible” which
further misinterprets who angels really are. A rabbi in the film sayszdfqg “angels
have helped people through the ageszdfqg” which is truezdfqg but this does not
contradict the reality that departed spirits have always helped their loved ones

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on earth. Whenever they havezdfqg most people recognized that someone was helping
them and rightly thought of them as angels; they just did not realize the personal
connections. In The Bishop’s Wife (1947)zdfqg the angel is incorrectly depicted
as being different from a departed soul and as assigned to a case. But what is
worsezdfqg the end of the film has him pitifully saying that he is tired of going
where they send himzdfqg never back to the same placezdfqg to avoid forming any
attachments. This same false idea shows up years later in the pilot episode of
Highway to Heaven. In both caseszdfqg their first wrong assumption “that angels
are assigned and unrelated to those they help” leads them to create a second
untruth—that angels are denied love connections with people. This makes God’s plan
appear cruel and uncaring about angelszdfqg when actually it is a 7 perfectly
loving plan for everyone. The negativity in both cases is due to a lack of
understanding that our guardian angels are our own d

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eparted loved oneszdfqg and that avoiding attachments is contrary to the spirit
world. Aside from ADC recipients who know their loved ones are watching over
themzdfqg and NDErs who realize the same truthzdfqg only a few people seem to
understand who our guardian angels really are. As a striking examplezdfqg Catholic
Monsignor Jean Vernette told researcher Evelyn Valarinozdfqg “Our departed ones
are present with us.... We can talk to them and they can hear us.... And they are
ready to lend us their real and effective help if we ask for it.” A Rumor of
Angels (2001) correctly shows the spirit of a departed soldier connected to his
motherzdfqg and trying to help her as a beloved guardian angel does in actuality.
He tells her he is safely on the other sidezdfqg and yet he can communicate with
her. He even says “I am not a ghostzdfqg but a being just as much as I ever was.”
This aspect of the film is taken from a true storyzdfqg Thy Son Liveth (1920).
The movie Beyond Tomorrow (1940) shows a departed spirit

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who is not assignedzdfqg but trying to bring a separated couple back together on
his own initiative. This part of the depiction fits the guardian angel
conceptzdfqg because the spirit knew the separated couple and cared about them.
But a major error this film makes is to portray that this departed soul is not yet
in heaven. In factzdfqg he is warned that if he does not leave earth right
awayzdfqg he will have lost 8 his one chance to leave. The moviemakers did not
understand that departed spirits are in heavenzdfqg while they watch over and
communicate with loved ones on earthzdfqg as ADC reports reveal. Alsozdfqg it is
not true that souls have only one chance to move upward. We can go to higher
planes in the spirit realm at our own pacezdfqg as NDErs attest. It is commendable
that The Human Comedy (1943)zdfqg Miracle in the Rain (1956)zdfqg and The Sea of
Trees (2014)zdfqg weave stories where departed loved ones are clearly watching
over the bereaved. It is not explicitly shown in The Sea of Treeszdfqg as it is in
th

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e other two filmszdfqg but it is implied in many clever ways (see filmography).
In Miracle in the Rainzdfqg a soldier’s spirit appears to his grieving fiancée and
tells her that he is finezdfqg and delighted to discover that love never dies. Not
realizing it is his spiritzdfqg she thinks the news of his death was wrongzdfqg
and asks him why he did not reply to her letters. He says he could notzdfqg
because there are no mailmen where he was. He then assures her that he will always
stay by her and love her. This clearly depicts him (to the audience) as her
guardian angelzdfqg who is in heaven and yet with her. Three excellent movieszdfqg
Cockeyed Miracle (1946)zdfqg Somewhere in Time (1980)zdfqg and What Dreams May
Come (1998)zdfqg correctly suggest that departed loved ones are guardian angels by
having them come to fetch someone when they die. But in What Dreams May Comezdfqg
it is not clear to the father for quite some time that the spirits 9 helping him
are his own children. Although this is not true to spirit expe

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rienceszdfqg this was obviously done to make the story interestingzdfqg as the
father gradually realizes that the spirits helping him are his beloved son and
daughter. Later in the same filmzdfqg the son tells the father to remember
exactly what he said to the mother when she was distraught after the children’s
deathszdfqg and to use that very approach in taking her out of hell. The son’s
advice to his father shows that the children’s spirits had been watching over the
parents all alongzdfqg and knew all they had been throughzdfqg which fits the role
of guardian angels. In keeping with how NDErs are met by loved ones in the spirit
worldzdfqg Dragonfly (2002) shows the wife’s spirit meeting her husband’s spirit
in his NDEzdfqg when he nearly drowns. She passes along critical information to
him about her own death. She also starts to pull him out of the waterzdfqg but
her hand quickly changes to the hand of the local guide who pulls him out. This
part is very subtle and is probably missed by most viewerszdfqg

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but it indicates her acting as a guardian angel. Soul Mates The NDE literature
reveals that each person has many soul mates— a group of souls eternally bound in
love. So we can also think of our departed loved ones as “soul mate angels.” For
people who have not lost loved oneszdfqg other soul mateszdfqg who chose not to
come to earth at the 10 same timezdfqg watch over them as guardian angels.
Thuszdfqg everyone (bereaved or not) has soul mate angels watching over themzdfqg
which is a comforting thought. Most people seem unaware that each of us has many
soul mates. For examplezdfqg What Dreams May Come incorrectly says that soul mates
are very rare. This view seems based on the traditional definition of soul mates
only as a couplezdfqg combined with the fact that many people do not find their
“soul mate” even after searchingzdfqg and end up spending their earth life with
someone else. It is worth noting that the alternate ending (which was dropped)
supports the idea of soul mates beyond the tradition

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al view. In this endingzdfqg the mother looks at her children in their grown-up
forms (moreoverzdfqg with the son as African#American and the daughter as Oriental)
and says happilyzdfqg as she hugs them closezdfqg that she would know them
anywhere. This scene clearly suggests a group of eternal soul mateszdfqg although
the movie does not say this. When the spirit of the soldier appears to his fiancée
in Miracle in the Rainzdfqg he tells herzdfqg “Time doesn’t matter….I love you as
if I’d always known you….I love you forever.” This clearly supports the concept of
eternal soul mateszdfqg and even hints at knowing each other before this life. In
Phenomenonzdfqg when the man discovers that he will die soonzdfqg he asks his
loverzdfqg “Will you love me for the rest of my life?” She replieszdfqg “Nozdfqg I
will love you for the rest of mine.” The response is meant to show her
devotionzdfqg but it 11 totally misses the point that love between eternal soul
mates is forever and not merely to the end of an earth life. The movies Made

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in Heaven (1987) and Defending Your Life (1991) fail to understand that everyone
has eternal soul mates. We do not go to the spirit world and “meet” someone new
and fall in lovezdfqg as these two films suggest. We know from the death-bed
vision (DBV) literature as well as NDE reportszdfqg that our soul mate angels come
to meet us when we diezdfqg and it is a blissful homecoming when we go to heaven.
Even when we fall in love with someone on earthzdfqg it is often one of our
eternal soul mates that we had planned to meet. This is why we get a déj� vu
feeling on falling deeply in love. We sense that we already know this person. And
in fact we do—at the soul level. In its failure to understand eternal love
connectionszdfqg Defending Your Life portrays a mother in the spirit world who
does not miss her young children greatly or show much concern for them. In
realityzdfqg they would be part of her soul mate group and she would be deeply
connected with them. Insteadzdfqg she is consumed by her excitemen

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t about the “new” man in her lifezdfqg and the discovery that she can eat all she
wants without gaining weight. In contrastzdfqg Beyond Tomorrow and Cockeyed
Miracle have a departed loved one mention to the newly transitioned soul that
“mother” is waiting to meet you. Cockeyed Miracle goes further by saying that
people who want to be together in heaven are together. These ideas 12 correctly
depict that not only do our departed loved ones come to take us to the spirit
world when we diezdfqg but we meet all our soul mate angels on going there.
Resurrection shows the woman having an NDE seeing many souls in the tunnel going
to the Light. They smile or wave at her (although it is difficult to see this
because they are all backlit). Laterzdfqg she tells her grandmother that she saw
her deceased mother and other relatives there; she also recognizes people in a
photo album who she saw in the tunnel. They all seem to have appeared there to
greet her. Thuszdfqg the film correctly hints that we see
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our departed loved ones in heaven. Incorrect Depictions of Angels It is ironic
that even while films tend to incorrectly depict angels as different from departed
spirits who have gone to the Lightzdfqg they show angels as having human
characteristics. But the NDE and ADC literatures reveal that we operate at a
higher spiritual level once we are in heaven. So portrayals of angels with human
failings are a misrepresentation. For examplezdfqg in Ghost (1990)zdfqg a
policewoman says that if spirits are all around uszdfqg she will have to watch out
while undressing. In realityzdfqg any spirits around us are our own soul mate
angels. They look at us with lovezdfqg and are not interested in people
undressing. The angel in The Bishop’s Wife (1947) is wrongly shown as falling in
love with the titular character. He 13 takes the wife on various outingszdfqg
mostly focused on fun rather than on helping anyonezdfqg which audiences may
enjoyzdfqg but it is not what he came to do. He makes the bishop very jealous of

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him; the bishop even calls him a thief for stealing his wife’s and daughter’s
affections. The filmmakers utterly failed to understand that angels do not “fall
in love” as humans dozdfqg because they are fully aware of and connected with
their own eternal soul mates. A Guy Named Joe (1943) and its remake Always (1989)
incorrectly show spirits being jealous because the person they love on earth is
loved by someone else. Actuallyzdfqg departed loved ones in heaven are full of
higher love and wisdom. They want the bereaved to find happiness againzdfqg even
as they continue to act as guardian angelszdfqg as NDErs tell us and as ADC
experiences show. The movie The Ghost and Mrs. Muir (1947) similarly shows a
spirit who is jealous as a human might be. The spirit was not depicted this way
in the book (1945)zdfqg on which the film was based. Some films take this
erroneous “angels as humans” idea too far. Blithe Spirit (1945)zdfqg a delightful
moviezdfqg nevertheless suggests that a spirit can have a head

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coldzdfqg poke and tease someonezdfqg and play jokes on people. It even depicts
a spirit slapping another spirit. Michael (1996) has an angel smoking and being
vulgar in many ways. Made in Heaven (1987) shows God’s “special agent” (as if
there is one) chain-smoking. Wings of Desire (1987) utterly misrepresents angels
by depicting them as unhappyzdfqg and longing to go to earth so they can
smokezdfqg 14 drinkzdfqg and avail of physical pleasures. This film has almost
everything wrongzdfqg down to its title. The only spirits that crave smokingzdfqg
drinkingzdfqg or physical pleasures are low#level entitieszdfqg as explained below.
Another terrible example is Topper (1937) where departed spirits drink and
deliberately hurt peoplezdfqg while supposedly doing a good deed to earn a passage
to heaven. All of this contradicts knowledge gained from NDEs and ADCs. Negative
behavior by spirits suggests a case of ghosts rather than angels. Ghosts are
spirits who are trappedzdfqg unable to reach the Light. We learn about thi
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s from NDErs who were trapped at first due to negative emotions. We also know
this from encounters people have had with ghosts engaged in obsessive
behaviorzdfqg oblivious of their deathzdfqg and still attached to earth life in a
negative way. In the film Ghost (1990)zdfqg when the protagonist is viciously
killedzdfqg he refuses the Light when it first comes for him. He is not a “ghost”
in the literal sensezdfqg because he is not oblivious of his deathzdfqg and not
trapped by an inability to reach the Light. He stays back deliberatelyzdfqg to
find out what happenedzdfqg and to do something about it. Of coursezdfqg this is
not really possiblezdfqg but we accept it as part of the fantasy. He is not shown
as a higher-level spirit eitherzdfqg because he is bent on revenge. In factzdfqg
other than being invisible and unable to grasp objectszdfqg he acts very much
like a personzdfqg walking and using escalatorszdfqg for examplezdfqg instead of
traveling as a spirit would. 15 The movie also shows a ghost on a trainzdfqg
addicted to smoking.

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This depiction fits with Professor Ian Stevenson’s explanation that low-level
spirits often stay bound to earthzdfqg trying to continue their addictions or
viceszdfqg and that they are trapped in repetitive behavior. Some scholars say
that ghosts are immersed in their own world and not aware of other spirits. So the
interactions between the ghost on the train and the main character’s spirit would
not really be possiblezdfqg but they are part of the plot. Other sources sayzdfqg
howeverzdfqg that ghosts can interact with peoplezdfqg but they are unaware that
they have died. Both situations are depicted in The Sixth Sense (1999). The film
Beyond Tomorrow (1940) seems confused about the difference between ghosts and
angels. When the three elderly friends in the story are killed in an airplane
crashzdfqg they appear at their shared home and behave exactly like ghosts. They
continue to “smoke” and “drinkzdfqg” as they stay in the housezdfqg having no clue
as to what has happened. Once they realize their conditio

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nzdfqg one of them decides to take on the role of a guardian angel to a
couplezdfqg as mentioned earlier. But he continues to act like a ghostzdfqg simply
tagging along and mostly ineffective in his help. Wonder Man (1945) also shares
this confusion. The twin on earth hears “harp music” when his departed twin is
trying to contact himzdfqg but he also feels “cold and damp” as if a ghost is
nearby. When the spirit appears for the first timezdfqg it looks like “light” and
then manifests itself as an apparitionzdfqg matching some ADC reports. At the same
16 timezdfqg the spirit often acts in a spiritually bereft way and it seems
appropriate that his brother refers to him as a ghost. There is a joke at the end
where the departed spirit stops his twin from kissing his bridezdfqg laughs
mockinglyzdfqg and sayszdfqg “I’m a little devilzdfqg ain’t I?” It might work in a
movie (as low-level humor)zdfqg but departed spirits do not play tricks on their
loved ones. They are focused on loving and helping their soul mateszdfqg as the AD
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are “called.” Insteadzdfqg we know from the NDE 17 literature that spirits can
travel to anywhere in the universe (including earth)zdfqg instantaneously.
Abilities of Spirits Here Comes Mr. Jordan (1941) and its remake Heaven Can Wait
(1978) show spirits fading at times and appearing elsewherezdfqg correctly showing
their ability to travel instantaneously to anywhere. Here Comes Mr. Jordan even
mentions and marvels at thiszdfqg which is a nice acknowledgement of spirit
capabilities. There are reports in the literature that spirits can enter
someone’s body temporarily. Patients who had out-of#body experiences (OBEs) during
surgery have recounted seeing a luminous spirit enter the surgeon’s body to guide
the operation. Bereaved people have mentioned feeling unusual strength in crisis
situationszdfqg as if someone was inside themzdfqg helping them to shout loudly or
to run fastzdfqg to scare away intruders or avoid accidents. These instances went
beyond adrenalinzdfqg because often these “rescues” took

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place even before the recipients of this type of guardian angel protection knew
what was going on. Some filmszdfqg such as Wonder Man (1945)zdfqg Hearts and
Souls (1993)zdfqg and Just like Heaven (2005)zdfqg amusingly show spirits entering
someone’s body and taking it over temporarily. But Forever Darling (1956) gives
the incorrect impression that spirits can merge forever with the soul of the
person they enter. Here Comes Mr. Jordan 18 and Heaven Can Wait take this idea to a
ridiculous extreme in suggesting that a soul can live again in a dead person’s
bodyzdfqg but it works as a fictional plot device. NDErs have shared that as
spirits (that had just left the body) they could go through objects but could not
grasp themzdfqg or that people did not see or hear them and even walked “through”
them. Several classic movieszdfqg Wonder Manzdfqg Blithe Spiritzdfqg Here Comes
Mr. Jordanzdfqg and Cockeyed Miraclezdfqg show spirits walking through
objectszdfqg and also show people not hearing or seeing spiritszdfqg and sometimes

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walking through them. Needless to sayzdfqg all of this creates humorous scenarios
and the films make the most of it. All the films mentionedzdfqg except Blithe
Spiritzdfqg also include funny scenes where spirits are unable to grasp objects.
And yetzdfqg we know from ADCs that spirits can move objects with energy to
communicate with the bereaved or to protect them. This seems easy for spirits once
they are in heavenzdfqg at a higher level of spirituality. The ability to move
objects is correctly shown in a few filmszdfqg but it is not necessarily
associated with high-level spirits. Blithe Spirit shows spirits moving vaseszdfqg
opening doorszdfqg and blowing out matcheszdfqg even though the spirits here are
far from angelic. This ability is also shown in Dragonfly where it varies from a
low-levelzdfqg sudden disturbance of objects to startle someonezdfqg to gentle
ways of moving things that fit angelic ADCs. 19 Blithe Spirit goes a bit farzdfqg
howeverzdfqg in showing spirits able to materialize suitcases out of thin airzdfqg
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snatch a sandwich from someonezdfqg drive a carzdfqg and mess up a car’s brakes
so it crashes. All of these are inaccurate depictionszdfqg but very funny as
portrayed. NDErs say that when they were in heavenzdfqg they were delighted to
find that they were still the same personzdfqg although at a higher level of
consciousness. Catholic Monsignor Jean Vernette has corroborated this in telling
interviewer Evelyn Valarinozdfqg that the departed “retain the integrity of their
personality and characterzdfqg along with all their affection and tenderness;
nothing is lost.” The film Cockeyed Miracle shows this clearly where the spirits
of the father and son are very much like the individuals they were on earthzdfqg
in temperament and demeanor. What Dreams May Come also shows spirits retaining
their individuality through their interactionszdfqg as well as in the way they
create their own heavens. In Miracle in the Rainzdfqg the grieving fiancée of the
departed soldier tells his spirit that he is the same as he was (b

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efore the war)zdfqg still funny. Although she does not know that it is his spirit
(and thinks he is back from the war)zdfqg the audience knows he is deadzdfqg and
so the point is made about retaining individuality. Here Comes Mr. Jordan and
Heaven Can Wait have an amusing twist to show that preferences and idiosyncratic
tendencies continue after death. The protagonist (Joe) 20 continues to play his
saxophone badlyzdfqg which helps his trainer recognize him in different physical
forms. Receiving ADCs Even ADCs show that spirits retain their individuality and
this often colors the messages they give. In factzdfqg ADCs are received by the
bereaved in amazingly different ways (see the Appendix in my bookzdfqg Heaven is
Not a Distant Placezdfqg for more details). In A Rumor of Angelszdfqg an old lady
receives dramatic ADCs from her soldier son’s spirit using Morse code.
Unfortunatelyzdfqg the film shows a boy who has lost his mother desperately trying
to reach his own departed mother using Morse codezdfqg and not g

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etting a reply. The moviemakers lost the opportunity to say that Morse code was a
special way of communication for the other mother and her sonzdfqg but it is far
from typical for ADCs. All that the boy needed to do was to talk to his mother in
his mindzdfqg and to be aware that she might connect with him in ways unique to
their relationship. ADCs are sometimes manifested as visionszdfqg including
glimpses of the departed spirit. ADCs can also be auditory where a departed
person’s voice is heard. Brief versions of both are shown in Love Is a Many
Splendored Thing (1955) where a grieving woman sees and hears her departed lover.
In Liliom (1934) and its musical remake Carousel (1956)zdfqg the daughter sees and
hears her father’s spirit. 21 This could be viewed as a visual and auditory ADC
even though she does not know it is her father. Wonder Man shows extended scenes
of the apparition of the departed twinzdfqg which can be viewed as visual ADCs.
The departed twin also talks to the surviving
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onezdfqg which can be viewed as auditory ADCszdfqg except that real ADCs do not
include conversations. All of this is done in a light#hearted way to effectively
move the plot along. Similar depictions are shown in Blithe Spiritzdfqg where the
departed wife appears and talks to the husband. These portrayals are also too
lengthy to be real and involve conversationszdfqg but as in Wonder Man they are
essential to the plot. The angel’s talking to the manager in Angels in the
Outfield could represent auditory ADCs. Among other thingszdfqg the angel tells
the manager that one of the players is to die next spring. This is a precognitive
ADCzdfqg which influences the manager to start with this player as pitcherzdfqg
and it helps the team win the pennant. The movie Miracle in the Rain includes not
only a vision but a spirit visitationzdfqg where the soldier’s spirit hugs his
fiancéezdfqg who still does not realize it is his spirit because the hug seems so
real to her. Although rarezdfqg there are a few accounts of AD

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Cs where the spirit appeared physically solid and the hug felt completely real.
Miracle in the Rain also has the spirit return the lucky coin she had given him
before he left for the warzdfqg saying 22 he does not need it anymore. When he
kisses herzdfqg walks awayzdfqg and disappearszdfqg she faints. As she lays
unconsciouszdfqg she is found by a priest and her best friendzdfqg who see the
coin clutched in her handzdfqg and realize that the soldier’s spirit returned to
give her the coin. This scenezdfqg obviously linked to the title of the filmzdfqg
is a good example of an ADC in the material worldzdfqg where an object is
transferred in a miraculous way to communicate with the bereaved. The ADC
literature tells us that departed loved ones often communicate through dreams.
Resurrection shows a brief dream visitationzdfqg where the bereaved wife sees her
husband in the backlit tunnel looking straight at herzdfqg raising his
hardhatzdfqg and smiling. The movie quietly conveys that he is telling her he is
okay. Dragonfly

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shows the departed wife’s spirit contacting her husband through a dreamzdfqg in
which he hears her calling out to him. The film also suggests that the wife’s
spirit makes lights flicker and moves objects to get his attention. Although such
ADCs (through electricity and movement) are commonly reportedzdfqg the depictions
in this movie are often shown in scary ways that belie the love and peace
associated with actual ADCs. The film also shows many ADCs involving dragonflies
(both real and symbolic) but overdoes this aspect as well. Moreoverzdfqg the only
reason these ADCs are given is to get the husband’s attention so an important
message can then be passed on. In contrastzdfqg the literature includes 23
thousands of ADCs given to the bereaved to simply sayzdfqg “I love you” and to help
them heal and be happy. NDErs tell us that on their return from heaven they began
to connect to God through nature. ADCs are often made through nature as well.
There are many reported instances of butterfly

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ADCszdfqg and spirit communications through plants or favorite flowers. In Love Is
a Many Splendored Thingzdfqg a butterfly lands near the grieving woman to let her
know that her lover is with her. Earlier in this moviezdfqg a butterfly was used
to symbolize someone watching over the two lovers. The Sea of Trees uses an
orchid (the departed wife’s favorite flower) as one of many ADCs to the husband.
Phenomenon shows trees gently swaying in the breeze that calm a bereaved woman. It
could be interpreted as an ADC through nature from the John Travolta character’s
departed soul to his grieving lover. Howeverzdfqg the film used swaying trees
earlier to soothe the Travolta character and suggested it was done by aliens from
UFOs. We know from the ADC literature that our guardian angels can create
illusions to comfort or enlighten us. The movies Dragonfly (2002) and The Sea of
Trees (2014) and two television series Highway to Heaven (1984-1989) and Touched
by an Angel (1994-2003) correctly show

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that departed spirits or angels can create illusions for various purposeszdfqg
including angelic protection. 24 NDE narrations mention that communication in the
spirit world is telepathic. Accounts by recipients of ADCs also show that departed
spirits often give telepathic ADCs to their loved ones. Indeedzdfqg several
filmszdfqg such as Beyond Tomorrowzdfqg A Guy Named Joezdfqg and Carouselzdfqg
show departed spirits putting thoughts in people’s heads. In Beyond Tomorrowzdfqg
the spirit puts simple thoughts in the housekeeper’s mind and she acts on these. A
Guy Named Joe shows telepathic ADCs from the spirit of the dead pilot to the
pilot he is supposed to guide. But it is a bit overdone in the sense that the
pilot being guided understands every word and commandzdfqg and follows it
instantly. Alsozdfqg the spirit cannot get through telepathically to the woman he
loveszdfqg except when he helps her in the dramatic bombing at the end. In
realityzdfqg he would be much more likely to get through to someone he loves

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. In Carouselzdfqg the father’s spirit attends his daughter’s high school
graduation and whispers briefzdfqg sound advice in her ear. His message changes
her attitude and she interacts in a positive way with peoplezdfqg instead of being
a surlyzdfqg self-determined outcast as her father was. This is a nice example of
a loving telepathic ADC. The father also whispers of love to the motherzdfqg and
she smiles as if she senses itzdfqg subtly depicting another telepathic ADC.
Angels in the Outfield says that former ballplayerszdfqg who are now angelszdfqg
will stand behind the players and “throw out huncheszdfqg” which the players will
pick up on and it will 25 guide their moves. The film even shows a few examples of
this and it represents telepathic ADCs. In The Bishop’s Wifezdfqg the angel tells
a little girl that angels put ideas into people’s heads to guide them. He also
says the people are unaware of this and think it is their own idea. This
phenomenon is reported in the ADC literaturezdfqg where people though

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t something was their own ideazdfqg and only realized laterzdfqg after getting
additional informationzdfqg that they had received telepathic ADCs. Butzdfqg we
also know from the ADC literature that such communication sometimes gets
throughzdfqg and sometimes does not. The reason it does not may relate to the
difference in vibrations between the physical and spirit worldszdfqg or because
the targeted recipient is not open to spirit communications. In Wonder Manzdfqg
the spirit starts interacting by putting thoughts in his twin’s mindzdfqg but at
that early stagezdfqg the twin does not understand what they mean. The films
Cockeyed Miracle and Hearts and Souls humorously show that telepathic
communication from departed spirits does not always get through. What Dreams May
Come shows the husband’s spirit trying to communicate with his widow in different
ways and failing. Although she senses his touching her lipszdfqg talking to
herzdfqg and trying to hug herzdfqg she gets freaked out every single time. This
reaction contr

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adicts the love and 26 peace that the vast majority of ADC recipients feel. Only a
few react negativelyzdfqg because they cannot accept spirit communications as
real. Such rejection of ADCs parallels negative experiences that some NDErs
havezdfqg typically due to their reluctance to die. Once they accept dyingzdfqg
their experience changes to the positive NDE that is widely experienced. Because
the film shows the grieving wife unable to accept continued existence after
deathzdfqg her extreme negative reaction to ADCs makes sense for her
characterzdfqg who sayszdfqg “When you’re deadzdfqg you disappear.” The wife later
makes a new painting of a beautiful Jacaranda tree in bloomzdfqg and for a
momentzdfqg she hopes her husband’s spirit can see it. Indeedzdfqg our soul mate
angels can see everything we do. In the filmzdfqg he is no longer in touch with
her because she rejected his attempts to connect. Yet the tree magically appears
in his heaven to signify their deep soul connection. Sadlyzdfqg the wife sinks
back to

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negativity and destroys the paintingzdfqg thinking her husband no longer exists.
At thiszdfqg the tree in the spirit dimension loses its beautiful blue flowers and
deeply pains the husband. This is excellent symbolism for how the rejection of
loving ADCs can hurt soul mate angels. A Rumor of Angels mentions that soldiers’
spirits were deeply hurt when their families continued to grieve for them
indefinitelyzdfqg and could not accept their loving ADCs. This revelation is also
taken from the true story in the book Thy Son Livethzdfqg which inspired the
movie. 27 Ongoing ADCs Many people erroneously believe that ADCs are given only
once (or for a brief period) and then the departed spirit moves on. Some books on
ADCs encourage this misguided thinking as wellzdfqg even though there are many
reports of ongoing ADCs. Ghost and Dragonfly also suggest that departed loved ones
only stay around long enough to do or convey something urgent and then leave. A
Guy Named Joe (1943)zdfqg its remake Always (198

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9)zdfqg and Trulyzdfqg Madlyzdfqg Deeply (1990) go further to claim incorrectly
that the departed spirit has to “let go” to allow the bereaved to find love again.
Actuallyzdfqg departed loved ones continue to watch over the bereavedzdfqg are
happy to stay connectedzdfqg and this does not prevent the bereaved from seeking
a new love. There are several accounts in the ADC literature of widows and
widowers joyfully connected with their departed spouses’ spiritszdfqg even as they
go on to have happy second marriages. The new spouses also seem enlightenedzdfqg
realizing there is no jealousy in heaven and grateful to have angels watching over
them as well. In the bookzdfqg The Ghost and Mrs. Muirzdfqg Captain Gregg’s
spirit stayed with Mrs. Muirzdfqg and communicated with her for all her lifezdfqg
which matches ongoing ADCs. Regrettablyzdfqg the film changed that to have the
spirit leave and erase all memory of the encounters. As a resultzdfqg Mrs. Muir in
the movie led a longzdfqg lonely life. 28 The truth is that our departed loved

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ones (or our soul mate angels) are always with uszdfqg as we know from NDE and
ADC reportszdfqg and from personal encounters. Only a few filmszdfqg The Human
Comedy (1943)zdfqg Hellozdfqg Dolly! (1969)zdfqg and A Rumor of Angels (2001)zdfqg
seem to get this concept. Two movieszdfqg The Human Comedy and Cockeyed
Miraclezdfqg correctly show that our departed loved ones can be right next to
uszdfqg and can seezdfqg hearzdfqg and kiss uszdfqg even if we are not always
aware of this. The film Cockeyed Miraclezdfqg howeverzdfqg does not seem to
understand the reality of ongoing connections with the spirit world. At the end of
the moviezdfqg the spirits are seen leaving for heavenzdfqg as if it is a distant
place—as almost all movies dealing with heaven portray. In contrastzdfqg The Human
Comedy nicely depicts the ongoing role of guardian angelszdfqg by showing the
departed father looking in on the family at various times. In Hellozdfqg Dolly!
Dolly Levi asks her departed husband Ephraim to give her a sign that it is okay to
marry Mr. Vandergelder. He d

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oes so (even though it has been several years since his passing)zdfqg gently
underscoring the fact that our departed loved ones are always with us and ready
to guide us. This perfectly fits with what we learn from NDE reports and ADCs
about soul mate angels. In A Rumor of Angelszdfqg the old lady tells the boy who
has lost his mother about continuing ADCs from her deceased son. The filmzdfqg
inspired by an actual instance of ongoing ADCszdfqg tries to show that our
departed loved ones remain 29 close to uszdfqg and suggests that keeping our minds
and hearts open will help us receive repeated ADCs. In Wonder Manzdfqg the
surviving twin’s bride asks him if the departed twin will keep visiting them. He
confidently asserts that they will never see his twin again. Butzdfqg as
mentionedzdfqg the spirit pushes him away from his bride when he tries to kiss
herzdfqg showing that he is still with themzdfqg but not in a loving way typical
of ongoing ADCs. In the movie The Story of Vernon and Irene Castle (1939)zdfqg
based o

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n the life of the dancing couplezdfqg Vernon dies in a plane crash. The original
ending had his ghostly image dancing with Irene as his voice-over sayszdfqg “I’ll
always be with you.” Unfortunatelyzdfqg this ending was changed to Irene’s memory
of the couple dancing together as she watches from a window. Filmmakers were
reluctant to show that a spirit could stay close to a loved one and still be in
heavenzdfqg because that fact contradicts traditional religious views. But it is
remarkable that a scriptwriter of the era had conceived a better endingzdfqg based
either on personal experiencezdfqg or simply an instinct about our departed loved
ones always being close to us. Dying Having examined various depictions of
angelszdfqg their abilitieszdfqg and their communications to the people they
lovezdfqg we can now step back a bit and view how dying is shown in filmszdfqg
before we go on to see how heaven is 30 portrayed. In Here Comes Mr. Jordan and
Heaven Can Waitzdfqg Joe is not supposed to die until about 50 years

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later; in factzdfqg both films give exact dates of his death. Although this
sounds fancifulzdfqg some NDErs were actually told their planned date of
deathzdfqg often years into the future. But they were given to understand that
this was only a planzdfqg and things may happen to change that. In the same two
movieszdfqg the angel escort is chastised for taking a soul out of the body before
traumatic death. He is told this is never donezdfqg and that one must await the
outcome. Contradicting thiszdfqg NDErs often relate how they were already out of
the body before the moment of violent or painful “death.” Even some ADCs have
indicated that the departed souls were “out” before the traumatic moment. This
does not mean that intense pain is not experienced in dying. Some NDErs recount
excruciating painzdfqg which was gone once they were out of the body. Otherszdfqg
it seemszdfqg went out before the worst of it. The film Somewhere in Time
correctly suggests a death#bed vision (DBV)zdfqg where a dying man smiles as if he

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sees someone he loves. This is followed by an out-of-body vantage point as the
spirit leaves the bodyzdfqg and then a window curtain flutters to suggest the
spirit’s leaving the room. This sequence fits the literature on DBVs and
spontaneous OBEs. Finallyzdfqg we see him reunited with his lover in a heavenly
setting. This matches what NDErs tell us about a reunion with departed loved ones
on dying. 31 Other movies also have correctly shown dying and moving into the
spirit world. The Ghost and Mrs. Muir shows Mrs. Muir dying and Captain Gregg’s
spirit appearing immediately to take her to heaven. In A Rumor of Angelszdfqg the
old lady hears angelic music right before she dies. Both depictions corroborate
the DBV literature. In Resurrectionzdfqg the main character sees her wrong#minded
father in a dream vision in the tunnel (where she had her NDE) and realizes he is
dying. This idea ties to the precognitive abilities some NDErs acquire after their
experience. She then goes to her father’s

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bedside and tells him that love is all that matters and that other family
members will be there to meet himzdfqg which also match NDE revelations. When she
says he should not be afraid of dyingzdfqg he mumbles “The Light” as if he sees
it. Of coursezdfqg given how cold and hateful he was in his earth lifezdfqg he
would have an extended life review (see next section). But even sozdfqg he could
briefly go to the Light first and be met by departed loved ones before his life
reviewzdfqg as many NDErs have experienced. The director of What Dreams May Come
notes that he filmed the main character’s fatal accident in a tunnel to represent
the tunnel experience in an NDE. He also shows this character attending his own
funeral and trying to comfort his widow. This depiction fits the reality of many
ADCs given at funeralszdfqg which reveal that departed spirits want to help their
grieving families understand that they are finezdfqg and that they continue to be
with them. 32 Even the comedy Blithe Spirit mentio

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ns that someone’s spirit attended her own funeralzdfqg which very likely is true
for most people. But it also mentions that she was exhausted by the
experiencezdfqg which is humorous and possibly not too far from the truth. Life
Review The NDE can be seen as a preview of what happens when we die. In addition
to the tunnel experience and meeting departed loved oneszdfqg NDErs went through a
life review process. Everything they did in their earth lives was now experienced
from the perspective of those at the receiving end of their actions. They deeply
and fully felt all the good and bad they had done to others. This intensive life
review is to help us learn from our mistakeszdfqg by actually experiencing the
harm we have done to others. From this learningzdfqg we are able to advance
spiritually. The review takes place in the presence of “beings of lightzdfqg” who
have also lived on earthzdfqg but are now at a much higher level of spiritual
growth. The film Liliom correctly shows that our whole live

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s are recorded. This matches the concept of Akashic Records that mystics speak
ofzdfqg where every thoughtzdfqg wordzdfqg and action is recorded permanently.
When Liliom tries to deny his bad actionszdfqg he is shown a film where he 33 is
beating his wife. He is also made to listen to a soundtrack of his thoughts that
impugn him. Actuallyzdfqg there is no question of trying to defend your actions;
the life review is not a courtroom scenario. In factzdfqg when a few NDErs tried
to argue that what they did was not so badzdfqg they were met with silence from
the beings of light present. When the NDErs caved in and admitted they were wrong
and felt truly remorsefulzdfqg the review continued to the next event. Thuszdfqg
Defending Your Life is another movie that has the whole concept wrongzdfqg right
down to the title. The one thing it shows correctly is that every action of ours
is recorded. But in the film only a few cases are chosen at random to be judged.
This is far from what actually happenszdfqg because NDErs

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report that they experienced every single action of theirs. They say it happened
quicklyzdfqg almost simultaneouslyzdfqg in a panoramic format. They were able to
understand everything because their consciousness was far more advanced than on
earth. Alsozdfqg the idea of the life review is notzdfqg as the movie
portrayszdfqg to judge the dead and then decide where they should go. It is a
learning experiencezdfqg after which all souls can progress. Instead of the life
review processzdfqg Outward Bound (1930) and its remake Between Two Worlds (1944)
show a cold “examiner” after deathzdfqg who readily hands out judgment as he sees
fit. Even worsezdfqg in Defending Your Life 34 (1991)zdfqg the lawyers and judges
mockingly laugh at “earth people” who they refer to as “little brains.” In
contrastzdfqg NDErs recount that the life review takes place in the presence of
lovingzdfqg wisezdfqg and supportive beings of light. These beings will not let
someone get away with being defensivezdfqg but they do not reprimand (or mock)
souls e

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ither. They quietly wait till the souls realize they were wrong. For those who
feel deep remorse on understanding (from the life review) that their words or
actions hurt otherszdfqg there is an outpouring of love from these beings to help
them cope. The idea is not to punish (or belittle) but to help us learn and grow.
Defending Your Life claims that children do not have to go through the judgment
process. Actuallyzdfqg NDErs have experienced (in their life reviews) all the
wrongs they didzdfqg even as children. We are accountable for all our actions from
a very early age. This film also says that teenagers go elsewhere because they are
too troublesome. Even though this is meant as a jokezdfqg it is worth noting that
everyone goes to the same place and through the same processzdfqg as NDErs attest.
Afterlife shows souls reviewing their entire lives but it is only to pick a memory
that they will have to re-live through eternity—which is an absurd conceptzdfqg
despite the cinematic strengths of

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the movie. The review shown is not a deep learning experiencezdfqg as is the
actual life review that all souls go through after dying. Even the title of the
film is 35 misleadingzdfqg although it fits many people’s erroneous conception
about heaven. NDErs unanimously declare that they had been in the spirit world
before. They were sure it was their eternal home. So heaven is not just about
“after” life on earthzdfqg but “before” life on earth as well. What Dreams May
Come says there are no judges in the spirit worldzdfqg to send someone to heaven
or hell. Although truezdfqg this ignores the life review process and the fact that
we judge ourselves in the presence of beings of light. The film suggests we are not
responsible for our wrongdoings. Similarlyzdfqg Resurrection does not mention the
life reviewzdfqg nor does it need tozdfqg as far as the story goes. But the
protagonist’s willingness to readily forgive those who have harmed herzdfqg
creates an impression that people are not culpable for their negat

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ivity. So it is instructive to examine the film as a framework for discussing life
reviews. It is obvious that the woman’s fatherzdfqg her boyfriendzdfqg and his
father would all undergo extended life reviews for their closed-mindedness and
hateful behavior. But people may not realize that the boy who carelessly
skateboarded in front of the car causing a fatal accident would have to experience
(in his life review) all the pain and misery he caused. There is no excuse for
thoughtlessness at any age as the NDE literature shows. Even the husband who
played a practical joke to make his wife believe he had lost a finger in a painful
way would have to experience the shock and sadness she 36 experiencedzdfqg though
brief. Nothing is too small to be pushed under the rug. Practical jokes are not
funnyzdfqg even if the victims pretend to be “sporting” about them. An NDEr
recounted that he experienced all the shockzdfqg fearzdfqg and humiliation he
caused people on whom he had played practical jokeszdfqg e

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ven as a child. We are accountable for everything we do to otherszdfqg as NDErs
consistently tell us. Soul Purpose The life review is tied to how well we achieved
our “soul purposezdfqg" or the main reason we came to earth. Several classic
filmszdfqg The Human Comedyzdfqg The Razor’s Edgezdfqg and It’s a Wonderful
Lifezdfqg correctly show that our soul purpose is to be loving and caring.
Resurrection underscores this idea throughoutzdfqg as the protagonist offers her
healing ability freely and lovingly to all. The Razor’s Edge says further that we
are supposed to enjoy earth lifezdfqg delight in naturezdfqg and truly help at
least a few people. The movie correctly suggests that we are not meant to change
the world. Insteadzdfqg if we can help some people in meaningful wayszdfqg they
will help otherszdfqg and it can all spread in gentle waves across the world.
Even the simplezdfqg loving things you do for your own family are greatly valued
in the spirit worldzdfqg according to NDE accounts. Not understanding thiszdfqg an
episode o

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f Touched by An Angel says that a teenaged girl who died “made a difference after
all” because she donated her 37 organs. While organ donation is indeed
commendablezdfqg this line denigrates the girl’s loving interactions with her
familyzdfqg suggesting that her love for them was not enough to make a
differencezdfqg whereas in reality it would be. Phenomenon rightly says that
lovezdfqg partnership (or cooperation)zdfqg and compassion lift us
spirituallyzdfqg whereas fearzdfqg competitionzdfqg and greed hold us back. All of
this exactly matches what NDErs discovered while in the Light and what mystics
have realized. Ironicallyzdfqg this scene is deleted from most DVD versions of the
movie by someone who failed to realize its significance. Other films are also
correct in expressing soul purpose. The housekeeper in Beyond Tomorrow says that
“the way to be happy is to serve others.” The guardian angel in Forever Darling
tells the wife in the story to be more loving to her husbandzdfqg and that deep
love arises

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from looking at the soul inside a person. Angels in the Outfield suggests that
prayers for a baseball team to win are answeredzdfqg contradicting NDE reports
that any focus on winning and competition is misplaced and not valued in the
spirit world. The angel does eventually say that there are more important things
in life than baseball. This is good; but throughout the film the angels are quite
intent on helping the team win. Defending Your Life erroneously claims that souls
are judged by how well they overcame fear while on earth. 38 Although fear is
indeed a negative emotionzdfqg it can be caused by a multiplicity of factorszdfqg
and in many instanceszdfqg it can propel an individual to correct action. So fear
cannot be used as a measure of a life. Insteadzdfqg as NDErs tell uszdfqg souls
have to answer the question: “What did you do to help others (in a positive way)?”
It is all about love and caring—for peoplezdfqg animalszdfqg and nature.
Defending Your Life even fails in evaluating the inciden

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ts it shows as part of the judgment. When the protagonist protects himself (at age
eleven) from a playmate’s blows but refuses to fight backzdfqg he is branded as
fearful. In a real life reviewzdfqg he would be commended for his stancezdfqg
whereas the boy who was hitting him would have to undergo all the pain and
negativity he caused. The film also shows the protagonist reprimanded for being
fearful when he accepts a low salaryzdfqg or does not invest in a promising stock;
instead he is praised for being fearless in paying first-class airfarezdfqg when
it represented one-third of all the money he had. Soul purpose is not about money
or fear. Love is all that matters. Spirituality and Love In factzdfqg many NDErs
have attested that only love is important to Godzdfqg and that religion is not so
significant. The literature reveals that all NDErs felt deep love in the spirit
world. But whereas some religious people were shown images from their religion to
comfort themzdfqg spiritual people (those who bel

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zdfqg Love Is a Many Splendored Thingzdfqg and What Dreams May Comezdfqg also
support the idea of love in heaven without mentioning religion. Resurrection
supports this revelation throughout the film. When a bigoted minister (and his
equally wrong#minded son) rail at Ellen Burstyn’s character for not attributing
her healing ability to Jesuszdfqg she refuseszdfqg saying she does not know how
she has this ability. Instead she offers her healing in the name of “Love.” The
filmmakers obviously wanted to depict that no particular religion is 40 superior
to any other and that “love” is the only thing important to God. Alsozdfqg the gas
station where the protagonist ends up spending her life has a sign that says “God
is Love.” That is exactly what the NDE literature and mystical experiences tell us
about God. As for the healing ability shown in the moviezdfqg there are reported
cases of NDErs having some type of healing ability on their return. They attribute
it to being exposed to the lovingzdfqg livingzdfqg s

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piritual Light that they encounteredzdfqg and that they understood as God. Not all
of them have this abilityzdfqg and many lose it after a whilezdfqg so the
filmmakers of Resurrection may have exaggerated this ability in order to make a
point. Orzdfqg they may have depicted the story of a particular NDErzdfqg who had
this ability to a greater extent. Heaven and Hell Although religion by itself is
not important to Godzdfqg it is instructive to note universal ideas about heaven
and hell across religions. Most religions speak of a permanent heaven and a
permanent hell. This is probably done to scare people into leading good lives. In
factzdfqg many movieszdfqg Liliomzdfqg Topperzdfqg Ghostzdfqg and Michaelzdfqg
suggest that people are either eternally rewarded or eternally punished. But most
thoughtful people realize that a permanent hell does not befit the mercy of God.
Surveys in Western Europe and the U.S. have repeatedly shown that more 41 than 75
percent of people believe in an eternal heavenzdfqg but fewer than 25 perc

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ent believe in an eternal hell. Indeedzdfqg we understand from NDE accounts that
everyone goes to the spirit dimension. There is no separate place that matches the
religious conception of hell. Howeverzdfqg the life review can indeed be “hellish”
for somezdfqg depending on how many people they have hurt and to what extent. But
after fully experiencing for themselves what they did to otherszdfqg these souls
too have an opportunity to grow and move upward. “Moving upward” refers to going
to higher planes within the spirit realm. A line from What Dreams May Comezdfqg
which says everyone is equal in heavenzdfqg obscures the fact that there are many
planes in the spirit worldzdfqg representing different levels of spiritual growth.
NDErs tell us that each spirit first goes to the plane which matches its own
level of growth. But on advancing spirituallyzdfqg it can move higher. This
applies to people who have led good lives as well as bad. The former go to a level
which is beautifulzdfqg and they can stay ther

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e for a long time after their life review. Spirits at this stage are able to act
as “angels.” As they grow spiritually by helping otherszdfqg they can move even
higher. The latter go to a level which may be mostly uncomfortablezdfqg but it is
not a permanent hell. They too can advance after their life reviews. Related to
thiszdfqg it is not true that bad or misguided people have no souls as Beyond
Tomorrow claims. 42 Everyone has a soul even when someone appears to be
“soulless” due to their evil deeds. Such souls are simply in darknesszdfqg devoid
of divine Light. But they canzdfqg after experiencing all that they did to
otherszdfqg advance as well. In a similar veinzdfqg Defending Your Life claims
that someone who does not get it right after several tries (of earth liveszdfqg
or incarnations) is “thrown away.” The truth is we are all part of God and all of
us are immortal. Even those who are in darkness are never destroyed. They have
the opportunity to seek the Light at any time. In addition to “h

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ellish” life reviewszdfqg which people bring about by their own bad actionszdfqg
the dying experience sometimes starts as negative or frighteningzdfqg as mentioned
earlier. Based on NDE narrationszdfqg this happens to people who resist death
because they are afraid of where they will gozdfqg or they are just not ready to
diezdfqg or they do not believe in anything beyond the physical dimension. Their
own fearzdfqg resistancezdfqg or denial creates negative imageszdfqg which
disappear when they accept dying or pray for help. What Dreams May Come correctly
reflects these realities where people create their own hell. The movie
figuratively depicts hell with many trapped souls (in sand or in water) and other
souls carrying heavy baggage on land. Their loss of movement and being weighted
down contrasts well with the lightnesszdfqg runningzdfqg and flying of spirits
depicted in heaven in this movie. In the same filmzdfqg the wife’s hell matches
her view of life (after her children 43 and husband die in vehicular accidents).

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Her vision shows their house in ruins and everything inside broken downzdfqg
darkzdfqg and dreary. When the son’s spirit tries to help his father find the
motherzdfqg he creates his own image of hellzdfqg with burning ships and wicked
warriorszdfqg based on what he finds fearful. The reason the wife in What Dreams
May Come is in hell is related to her suicide. The movie takes pains to explain
that it is not punishmentzdfqg but her own inability to forgive herself. She
blames herself for the deaths of her children because she did not drive them to
school that dayzdfqg and thinks that if she hadzdfqg she might have prevented the
accident. She also believes she is responsible for her husband’s death on the road
because she asked him to bring something to herzdfqg and he was hit on the way.
The film says her self-absorption in these thoughts keeps her from realizing she
is deadzdfqg and so she remains in a hell of her own creation—a broken down
version of her home. This is a good explanationzdfqg but the real reason

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she is in hell is that she does not believe in the spirit realmzdfqg which the
movie makes clear. It is this aspect that precisely matches NDE reports of
negative experiences in the spirit world—for those who did not believe in life
beyond earth. Furtherzdfqg the film errs in stating categorically that all
suicides go to hell and that no suicide has been brought out of hell. This is
completely false. NDErs discovered that whereas suicide is definitely wrongzdfqg
it is dealt with in the 44 life reviewzdfqg as are other misguided actions. The
soul can thereafter progress to become an angel. Even ADCs have confirmed this
when departed loved oneszdfqg who had committed suicidezdfqg assured the bereaved
via telepathy or dream visitationszdfqg that they were happy and with God.
Neverthelesszdfqg movies like to show suicides being punished in a severe way.
Outward Bound and its remake Between Two Worlds incorrectly show suicides punished
eternallyzdfqg as in the case of the ship’s steward who has to ferry soul

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s forever. Even though he has been doing this stoically for eonszdfqg he is given
no reprieve. Butzdfqg in an obvious contradiction of its own stancezdfqg a couple
that committed suicide is eventually allowed to go back to living on earth.
Liliom also shows harsh punishment for suicides—a fiery purgatory; we actually see
the raging fire through a door he walks through. In the remake Carouselzdfqg his
death (while committing a crime) is accidental rather than by suicidezdfqg and so
the punishment is less severe—he is made to polish stars. In both filmszdfqg part
of the punishment was for leaving his pregnant wife and for beating her earlier.
Both versions send him back to earth for one day to try to help his now-teenaged
daughter. This is supposed to determine if he will end up in heaven or in hell. In
both movieszdfqg the daughter sees the fatherzdfqg but does not know who he is
and tells him to go away. At thiszdfqg he slaps her hand in frustration. 45 In the
1909 stage play of Liliom in Hungaryzdfqg and in

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many adaptations that followedzdfqg this action (slapping his daughter’s hand
instead of helping her) sends Liliom to hell. But in the 1930 and 1934
talkieszdfqg in a new bizarre scenezdfqg the daughter tells the mother that the
slap felt like a kisszdfqg and Liliom ends up in heaven. Carousel also has this
strange scenezdfqg and in all three films it is supposed to help the mother
realize that her husband’s spirit had just been there. The convoluted logic (of
the slap that feels like a kiss) is that although her husband beat herzdfqg the
wife knew he loved her—which is shocking given present awareness of domestic
abuse. In Carouselzdfqg the father does get another chance and redeems himself
through loving telepathic ADCs to his wife and daughterzdfqg as discussed already.
What Heaven is Like We know from NDE accounts that the spirit dimension is
brilliantly coloredzdfqg with light emanating from everyone and everything; and
that the earth is only a pale imitation of it. This fits with what mystics have e

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xperienced as well. What Dreams May Come correctly shows that heaven is brilliant
and beautiful. Similarlyzdfqg Made in Heaven depicts a colorful heavenzdfqg after
initial black and white scenes on earthzdfqg to indicate the difference in beauty
of the two places. But two movieszdfqg Stairway to Heaven (1946) and Wings of
Desire (1987)zdfqg show heaven in black and white and earth life in colorzdfqg
reversing the truth. 46 In Resurrectionzdfqg we do see color and light radiating
from spiritszdfqg but the entire NDE is shown in the tunnelzdfqg possibly to
simplify the moviemaking aspect. Clouds are shown briefly and multi-colored light
breaks through at timeszdfqg but the bright backlighting of these scenes makes it
look like a tunnel experience throughout. When the camera pulls backzdfqg away
from the lightzdfqg it suggests the return journeyzdfqg back through the
tunnelzdfqg that some NDErs have recounted. NDE reports say that the spirit realm
is full of love and God’s “Light.” The Razor’s Edge and Resurrection correctly

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suggest thiszdfqg as previously discussed. But many filmszdfqg such as
Liliomzdfqg Stairway to Heavenzdfqg and Wings of Desirezdfqg incorrectly show no
love in heavenzdfqg depicting it as cold and impersonal. We know from the NDE
literature that spirits in heaven may have a male or female appearance but they
connect only through spiritual love. Contradicting thiszdfqg Made in Heaven shows
a new soul born in heaven as an offspring to a couple. Actuallyzdfqg all souls are
created by Godzdfqg and there is no sex in heaven as the movie implies. Defending
Your Life is similarly wrong in explicitly suggesting that sex continues in the
spirit world. The latter film also portrays hotelszdfqg steakhouseszdfqg bowling
alleyszdfqg golf courseszdfqg and televisionzdfqg which shows how earth-bound the
film is. In a lower keyzdfqg but incorrectzdfqg neverthelesszdfqg Afterlife shows
old buildingszdfqg roomszdfqg and 47 even bathrooms. It also shows a city scene
where a case worker goes shoppingzdfqg which displays how closely its view of the
spirit dimension i
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s tied to earth. The idea that you can eat all you want without gaining an ounce
is hyped a lot in Defending Your Lifezdfqg as the lead characters dive into food
repeatedly. Made in Heaven also shows people eating and drinking in heaven.
Outward Bound and its remake Between Two Worlds show people eating and drinking
on the ship before they know they are deadzdfqg which can be viewed as an
illusion. But the stage play even mentions plans to have dinner when they landzdfqg
on what is both heaven and hell. This is after everyone knows they are dead. It
also mentions regular meals in the next worldzdfqg which Between Two Worlds does
as well. In a more subdued mannerzdfqg the characters in Afterlife drink tea.
Interestinglyzdfqg NDErs say that spirits can indeed create illusions of food and
drink in heavenzdfqg but that higher-level souls have no need of this. What Dreams
May Come shows coffee in one scenezdfqg but rightly admits it is an illusionzdfqg
as is everything else. NDErs tell us that spirits continue

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to grow in heaven. The life review teaches them what they did wrongzdfqg and they
realize that love drives everything. In support of thiszdfqg the father’s spirit
in Cockeyed Miracle tells his son’s spirit that he is “kind and lovable” now. He
also reminds the son to be angeliczdfqg when the son wants to continue his grudge
against an erring friend. In Blithe Spiritzdfqg the husband tells the wife’s
spirit more than once that he is surprised that 48 she has not improved the least
bit after seven years in the spirit world. His saying so shows some understanding
that we are supposed to grow spiritually in heaven. But in Between Two Worldszdfqg
one soul is sent to heaven where he is to meet old friends and play golf. There is
no thought of continuing spiritual growthzdfqg as there is in NDE reports. A
motherzdfqg who is allowed to be with her son in heavenzdfqg still feels guilty
about having given him up for adoption. She insists that he not be told who she
iszdfqg and wants to be his “housekeeper” for ete

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rnity. And even though her son has admitted his failingszdfqg and he is supposed
to spend eternity reflecting on thiszdfqg the mother praises him as wonderful and
importantzdfqg and denies that he needs to learn and grow. This contradicts
reality where eternal soul mates meet with love and joyzdfqg and help one another
advance spiritually. Alsozdfqg there is no way to hide the truth in heavenzdfqg so
this is another flaw in the logic of the mother appearing as a housekeeper to the
son. Carousel rightly depicts that you cannot hide your thoughts in heaven.
Indeedzdfqg as all communication in the spirit world is telepathiczdfqg there is
no way to keep your thoughts to yourself. Whatever you think is instantly
comprehended by other spirits near youzdfqg as seen in many NDE accounts. Beyond
Tomorrow correctly shows that there is no pain in the spirit realm and that
spirits have perfect vision. NDEs corroborate that they felt no pain as soon as
they 49 were out of their bodieszdfqg and that they had perfect 360
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degree vision. But for some strange reasonzdfqg What Dreams May Come shows a
spirit in heaven with eyeglasses. Made in Heaven correctly shows that spirits can
go anywhere just by thinking of a place or person. But it erroneously limits this
ability to places or people in heaven. In reality a spirit can go anywherezdfqg
even on earthzdfqg just by thinking of a location or a personzdfqg as NDErs tell
us. Even people who came out of comaszdfqg or those who had spontaneous OBEszdfqg
have recounted that they could go anywhere just by thinking of it. In A Rumor of
Angelszdfqg the soldier killed in the war communicates to his mother that angels
(meaning departed souls) do not have wingszdfqg but that “we can go anywhere
without fatigue.” This line is taken from actual ADCs reported in the bookzdfqg on
which the film is based. Although What Dreams May Come shows spirits traveling
freelyzdfqg it claims that a spirit called a Tracker is needed for the husband to
find his wife in hell. In contrastzdfqg NDErs recount that

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they could find anyone in the spirit world just by thinking of themzdfqg even if
those souls were in a different plane. The husband in this film does eventually
find his wife on his ownzdfqg by intensely focusing on her. In A Guy Named
Joezdfqg the pilot mentions feeling completely alive when flying very highzdfqg
“close to heaven.” This matches NDE reports that spirits felt more alive in 50
heaven than they ever had on earth. In the same moviezdfqg a commanding officer’s
spirit says that every pilot in the war is helped by angels because everyone is
connected. The idea that everyone and everything is connected surfaces constantly
in NDE accounts and mystical experiences. Alsozdfqg soldier’s spiritszdfqg who
gave ADCs to their loved ones after World War Izdfqg talked about many spirits
gathering to help wounded soldiers. It makes sense that in times of world
crisiszdfqg angels help people undergoing great sufferingzdfqg even though they
are not their soul mates. The pilot in this movie also mentions that flyin

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g very high feels like being halfway to heavenzdfqg with no sense of timezdfqg
but instead a feeling of “always now.” This perfectly matches the NDE
literaturezdfqg which reveals that time is irrelevant in heavenzdfqg and that the
pastzdfqg presentzdfqg and future are all simultaneous—an idea understandably
difficult for us to comprehend. Most filmmakers do not seem to know that time
does not matter in the spirit world. In Here Comes Mr. Jordan and Heaven Can
Waitzdfqg the protagonist’s body is already cremated when he returns to earth. In
realityzdfqg the time it would take to find his bodyzdfqg make all the
arrangementszdfqg and cremate the body is far longer than the few minutes he
spends in the way station before returning. Moreoverzdfqg NDErszdfqg who returned
after having flat-lined for only a few minuteszdfqg still experienced heaven in
all its gloryzdfqg met and interacted with loved oneszdfqg and had life reviews.
This is because time seems greatly expanded in heaven. So the 51 protagonist and
the escort could have bee
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n back in less than a minute of earth time after the accident. Of coursezdfqg the
hasty cremation is a fundamental aspect of the plot and we can accept it as that.
In What Dreams May Comezdfqg when the husband goes to hell to rescue his wifezdfqg
he is told he has only three minutes after which he will be trapped as well. Of
coursezdfqg the three-minute limit makes no sense because time is meaningless in
the spirit dimension. They could have simply saidzdfqg as they did later in the
moviezdfqg that if her reality became hiszdfqg he could not return to heaven.
Interestinglyzdfqg his becoming dull and less alert (the longer he stayed with
her) matches how some NDErs felt when they explored a lower level than the one
they initially went to on reaching the spirit realm. NDErs tell us that there is
instantaneouszdfqg telepathic access to complete knowledge in heaven.
Contradicting thiszdfqg many movies show departed spiritszdfqg angelszdfqg or
“case workers” as having no clue about what has transpired in the lives of peo

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ple they love or are supposed to help. Examples include Cockeyed Miraclezdfqg
Liliomzdfqg Carouselzdfqg Afterlifezdfqg and Hearts and Souls. Most films do not
show that information is accessible telepathically and instantaneously in the
spirit world. Here Comes Mr. Jordan shows spirits in heaven calling a registrar
to check on information about a person. Heaven 52 Can Wait has someone check
information on a computer. At least in both caseszdfqg the information is quickly
available. In the Touched by an Angel television serieszdfqg the angels hardly
ever seem to know anything that they should understand instantaneously and
telepathically. For examplezdfqg in one episode about an asteroidzdfqg they have
to actually read all publications about asteroids since the year 1500.
Similarlyzdfqg the German film Wings of Desire shows angels reading travel guides
to learn about Berlin. In additionzdfqg international movies like to paint heaven
as a bureaucracyzdfqg often inefficient. The British movie Stairway to Heaven show

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s interactions with clerks in heaven to create accounting records for souls. The
French film Liliom has information on everyone stored as film or audiozdfqg and
several levels of officials to manage everything. The Japanese movie Afterlife
shows each soul’s life captured on videotapeszdfqg and the case workers have to
send out for this and wait a day to get it. In the British film Blithe Spiritzdfqg
the wife’s spirit claims that she spent hours waiting in drafty rooms on the other
sidezdfqg to fill in forms required for a return visit to earth. Actuallyzdfqg not
only is all information instantly available to spiritszdfqg there are obviously
no drafty rooms and no forms to be filled out in heaven. Angels can visit earth
any time they wish. In addition to everything described about heaven so farzdfqg
NDErs mention that the beautiful scenes they saw resonated with them personally.
Consistent with this 53 revelationzdfqg Beyond Tomorrowzdfqg Made in Heavenzdfqg
and What Dreams May Come suggest that we create the
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visual fabric of our heaven. In Beyond Tomorrowzdfqg a man chooses the
picturesque location of Simlazdfqg Indiazdfqg where he had been stationed as a
British officer. Made in Heaven shows spirits creating their own individualized
spaceszdfqg whether indoors (with paintings and furniture) or outdoors (with
flowers and trees). What Dreams May Come portrays a magnificent heaven for the
husbandzdfqg created out of his wife’s paintings that he lovedzdfqg and a magical
one for the daughterzdfqg that matches favorite objects in her bedroom. The
actual depiction of the personalized heaven in Beyond Tomorrow is poorly donezdfqg
with obviously fake coconut trees in the foreground of a mountainous scene (even
though coconut trees only grow at sea-level). In contrastzdfqg the different
heavens in What Dreams May Come are amazingly spectacularzdfqg and evoke the beauty
of the spirit realm that NDErs describe. This film even makes the bold statement—
that in the spirit realm you create a world with your imagination—which p

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erfectly fits mystical experiences. Made in Heaven also accurately portrays that
it is easy to create illusions in heaven. The NDEzdfqg ADCzdfqg and DBV
literatures also reveal that spirits can appear as they wishzdfqg usually as
younger versions of themselves. This is correctly shown in Somewhere in Timezdfqg
where even though the woman dies in her old agezdfqg she appears to her lover as a
young woman. Similarlyzdfqg The Ghost and Mrs. Muir shows an old 54 woman dying
in a chairzdfqg and her young self stepping out of the body. The spirit even looks
back at the chairzdfqg so the audience can see the old woman still therezdfqg and
figure out that she has died. Of course in the case of childrenzdfqg they would
typically appear as adultszdfqg as correctly shown in What Dreams May Come. In
Cockeyed Miraclezdfqg the father’s spirit explains to his son’s spirit that
everyone looks as they think of themselveszdfqg and if you change your thoughts
about yourselfzdfqg you can change your appearance. This matches ADC reports
where

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the spirits of loved ones appeared as youngerzdfqg healthier versions of
themselves. Reincarnation Professor Kenneth Ring writes that more than
three#fourths of NDErs believe in reincarnation after their time in heavenzdfqg
but not as a reward or punishment. NDErs explain that reincarnation is an
opportunity to learn and grow spirituallyzdfqg and it is voluntarily undertaken
rather than being imposed on souls. In two movieszdfqg Love Is a Many Splendored
Thing and Dragonflyzdfqg a couple talks about coming back as birds in the next
life. In the first filmzdfqg they then agree to come back as people and find each
other again. In the secondzdfqg they even mention coming back as rabbitszdfqg so
it seems to be a fanciful conversationzdfqg just to introduce the reincarnation
concept to audiences. The husband at least must see it as 55 a fancyzdfqg because
he is shown as not believing in the immortality of the soul at the start of the
movie. Most films do not address reincarnation. It is interesting that those t
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hat dozdfqg fail to understand that spirits choose their parents on earthzdfqg who
typically are their own soul mates. Insteadzdfqg most movies show people being
born to someone as random events. An exception is A Rumor of Angelszdfqg where the
son’s spirit tells his mother in an ADC that he knows spirits return to earth many
timeszdfqg but he is not sure how this happens. He adds that if he came againzdfqg
he would want to be her son. This excerpt is also taken from the true story that
inspired the film. It is nice that some films do acknowledge reincarnation but
most get several aspects wrong. For examplezdfqg Made in Heaven first correctly
says that everyone can reincarnate on earthzdfqg and that some return quicklyzdfqg
while others take a long time. It even shows a man who was in heaven earlier to
be on earth laterzdfqg showing that he had reincarnated. Then it contradicts all
this by the special agent’s refusing to allow the protagonist to reincarnate.
Even though it is first correctly presented as eac

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h soul’s choicezdfqg he is illogically denied this option because he wants to
reincarnate to be with the woman he loveszdfqg who is about to be born on earth.
Actuallyzdfqg we know from NDE accounts that this is exactly what soul mates plan
and do. The man is then grudgingly allowed to reincarnate “as a special case”
with the caveat that if the lovers do not 56 find each other in 30 yearszdfqg they
will never see each otherzdfqg even when they get to heaven again. This concept is
simply ludicrous—there is no question of not meeting your soul mate(s) in the
spirit realm. We know from NDEs that soul mates will be together for eternityzdfqg
even if they miss meeting each other on earth in a few lifetimes. Finallyzdfqg in
a huge failing of common sensezdfqg the newly born man and woman look exactly like
themselves in their previous existence. If this was done simply as a device to
let the audience know who they arezdfqg that would be fine. But the fact that the
man’s parents from his previous life recognize

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that he looks just like their son (but nearly 30 years younger) shows that they
are supposed to look like themselves. Tied to thiszdfqg both keep having memory
fragments of their time together in heavenzdfqg and this is what helps them find
each other— because they look the same! There is no comprehension that we are
supposed to find our soul mates by sensing a soul connectionzdfqg and not by
simply recognizing a face from a past relationship. The Love Letter (1998) makes
the same glaring error in showing that the lovers look exactly like themselves in
their past and present lives. Just like Made in Heavenzdfqg this is also done in a
literal way. The man in the future life and the woman in the past life exchange
photographs (as part of the time-travel fantasy). This is how the woman
recognizes him in the past life; she meets a man with the same face as the man she
loves from the futurezdfqg and so 57 she knows it is him. And at the end of the
moviezdfqg the man in the future sees a woman (who

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has the same face as the woman in the past) and this is how he knows she is his
soul mate. If only it were that easy! Defending Your Life portrays reincarnation
as punishment and that too for frivolous reasons related to the faulty judgment
process. The movie includes a past#lives pavilion which is presented as a jokezdfqg
with Shirley MacLaine hostingzdfqg and freaky images from past lives that have
people shrieking in horror. Reincarnation is fleetingly mentioned in Hearts and
Soulszdfqg but it is wrongly portrayed. The film shows that the moment each of the
trapped souls finishes its unresolved businesszdfqg it is pulled away because “a
baby is waiting to be born and needs a soul.” This is not how reincarnation
workszdfqg and it contradicts NDE reports. NDErs say that spirits typically spend
a lot of time (in human years) in carefully planning their next earth lifezdfqg
along with soul mates whose earth lives will be intertwined with theirs. They
plan who will be the parentszdfqg how they wil

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l meetzdfqg who will be the childrenzdfqg and the aspects each one will work on
to facilitate spiritual growth. Not everything that is planned will happenzdfqg
but it is planned nonetheless. In Chances Are (1989)zdfqg a man who dies in an
accident insists on being born immediately without any thought as to his next
life. Alsozdfqg on growing up in his new lifezdfqg he recalls an injustice from
his past life and is able to set it 58 right. Let us evaluate these two
depictions. The man’s rushing to the next life without thought contradicts the
NDE literature about careful planning. And yetzdfqg some souls do make hasty
decisions about their next incarnationzdfqg as shown in rigorous past life
research by Professor Ian Stevenson. Alsozdfqg past life recall about specific
injustices is commonzdfqg especially for souls who return too soonzdfqg according
to Professor Stevenson. Tied to NDE accountszdfqg this suggests that not spending
enough time to plan the next physical lifezdfqg creates the likelihood of too
much focus on

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the most recent earth lifezdfqg and this is what engenders past life memories for
some people. In the same moviezdfqg the man’s attraction to his daughter from his
past life apparently turned off many viewers. But NDE reports say that such
changes in relationships in future earth lives are entirely feasible among soul
mates. So the film seems to have done well in all three of its reincarnation
depictionszdfqg although serendipitously. In What Dreams May Comezdfqg
reincarnation is mentioned early when someone points to spirits on their way to
help others be born on earth. Nothing is mentioned as to why the souls are being
reincarnatedzdfqg which is fine at this stage. But in the movie’s endingzdfqg the
husband suggests to his wife that they should reincarnate just for the thrill of
finding each other again. This is a frivolous reason for reincarnationzdfqg
especially when they are already together in heaven after his terrifying trip to
hell to rescue her. It also wrongly suggests that heaven is b

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oring and they need 59 to go to earth for excitement. In sharp contrastzdfqg NDErs
admit they were reluctant to return to earth given the incredible beauty and
abundant love in heavenzdfqg the ability to go anywhere instantlyzdfqg and the
absence of physical constraints. Even when it comes to reincarnationzdfqg NDErs
explain that it is difficult to forego the absolute freedomzdfqg joyzdfqg and love
in the spirit worldzdfqg and that typically souls plan to return to an earth life
only if there is something they need to work on for their spiritual growthzdfqg
which cannot be done in heaven. The movie’s alternate ending shows reincarnation
as voluntary atonement by the wife for having committed suicidezdfqg which seems
reasonable. Howeverzdfqg saying that every religion mentions this type of
atonement for suicide adds an incorrect note that views suicide in an especially
harsh way compared to other wrongdoings. As an asidezdfqg when the husband decides
to join his wife on earthzdfqg they should have stopped rolling fi

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lm where he sayszdfqg “See you in a heartbeat” and kisses her. Insteadzdfqg it
drags on to show two painful deliveries of babies—a depressing way to end the
movie. The ending that was kept shows them meeting as happy kidszdfqg drawn to
each other by their idiosyncratic behaviorzdfqg which at least ends the film on a
positive note. The Special Case of Children Most people think that when children
die they go to heaven “as childrenzdfqg” and grow up slowly there as they would
have on earth. This is probably why ADCs given by 60 children’s spirits (usually
in dream visitations) typically present themselves as children to comfort their
bereaved parents. In factzdfqg they often appear with another departed
relativezdfqg so their parents will not worry about who is taking care of them. In
some caseszdfqg they do appear as adultszdfqg possibly to convey that they are
mature spiritszdfqg capable of taking care of themselves. Indeedzdfqg the NDE
literature tells us that we are all eternal soulszdfqg and we were mature spirits
b

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efore coming to earth for a particular existence. Thuszdfqg when children are back
in heavenzdfqg they are free to assume their mature form. Blithe Spirit suggests
that children’s spirits remain at the age they died. This could be the case if the
spirit is trapped and remains at a low spiritual levelzdfqg as a ghost. But most
children go to the Lightzdfqg and are free to appear in their adult form. In
support of this ideazdfqg What Dreams May Come correctly depicts the children’s
spirits as “grown up” to the fatherzdfqg throughout the movie. Oddlyzdfqg it
shows them to the mother as children in the film’s ending. The original ending
(labeled as the alternate ending on the DVD) did show them as adults to the
motherzdfqg as mentioned earlier. The full alternate ending is not necessarily
betterzdfqg but this aspectzdfqg showing them as mature spirits at the end (as was
done throughout the film)zdfqg ought to have been retained. But What Dreams May
Come also shows other children in heavenzdfqg some running on waterzdfqg an

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d others flying or having fun in some way that is different from what we can 61
do on earth. Made in Heaven also shows childrenzdfqg some taking ballet
lessonszdfqg others learning computer skills. NDE accounts do not mention seeing
children in the spirit world. And yet it is not impossible that some mature souls
may want to appear as childrenzdfqg especially when they just want to have fun or
when they are learning basic skills. After allzdfqg it is clear that we can take
on any appearance we wish to in the spirit world. So these depictions add an
interesting layer of imagination to our conception of heaven that may actually be
possible. We do know from the ADC literature that children (on earth) are more
likely to see spirits than are adults. Some scholars propose that children’s so-
called “imaginary friends” might be spirits of guardian angels that only they can
see. Several filmszdfqg Angels in the Outfieldzdfqg Wings of Desirezdfqg and Just
like Heavenzdfqg show children seeing angels or spirits

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when adults cannot. Of course not all children are capable of this as Wings of
Desire portrays. What about Animals? The Going My Way television series (1962-63)
had an episode where a boy’s dog dies. When the boy sayszdfqg “I’ll see him in
heavenzdfqg” the priests tell him he will notzdfqg because “dogs do not have an
immortal soul.” They say a dog’s heaven is that he stays in our hearts. It is true
that NDE accounts do not mention animals in the spirit realm. But this may be
because such experiences are not as full in content as they would be after death.
62 Soldiers who died in World War Izdfqg and communicated with their families as
spiritszdfqg mentioned meeting beloved dogs or horses in the spirit realm. Even
recent ADC reports mention sensory contactszdfqg dream visitationszdfqg and other
types of ADCs from cherished pets. This suggests that animals do go to heavenzdfqg
at least those that had love connections with their owners. What Dreams May Come
correctly shows this when the husband meets t

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he family’s beloved dog in heaven. In keeping with knowledge from visual
ADCszdfqg the dog is a healthyzdfqg happy version of her earth-selfzdfqg in which
she was shown as ill and in pain. The ADC literature also reveals that animals (on
earth) are more likely to sense spirits than are people. Several films do depict
pets sensing a spirit. Blithe Spirit shows a parrot squawkingzdfqg and The Ghost
and Mrs. Muir shows a dog growlingzdfqg when a spirit appears. In Ghost and What
Dreams May Comezdfqg the animals seem frightenedzdfqg even though in these two
movies it is the owner’s spirit that has manifested. This contradicts ADC
accountszdfqg which mention that pets are happily excited when a loved one’s
spirit appears. In any casezdfqg it is nice that all these films show that animals
can sense spirits when people cannot. Conclusion I have enjoyed most of the films
discussed here; they were well crafted and highly entertaining. Only a few were
terrible. But I noticed that a large number of the movieszdfqg eve

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n the well-made oneszdfqg wrongly depicted 63 aspects of angelszdfqg heavenzdfqg
and related issues. Some filmmakers simply took an incorrectzdfqg traditionally
religious view of these issues. As audiences were in tune with thiszdfqg the
movies were successful. Others used fantasy to present a novel approachzdfqg and
this worked as wellzdfqg because audiences are generally unaware of the reality of
NDEszdfqg ADCszdfqg and other supernatural phenomenazdfqg and happy to be
entertained by unusual story-telling. At the same timezdfqg it was nice to see
films accurately depict some aspects of angels and heaven. These movies went
beyond amusing audiences to aim for enlightening themzdfqg which matches my hope
in writing this book. An Annotated Filmography [This is a chronological list of
the films discussed above. In the descriptions belowzdfqg the focus is on (1)
whether the movie depicts angelszdfqg heavenzdfqg and related issues correctly and
(2) whether it is worth seeing. (I have tried to minimize overlap with discussions
in the m

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ain text.)] Outward Boundzdfqg 1930 (remake: Between Two Worldszdfqg 1944) This
story is about people who do not know that they have died. Outward Bound provides
no explanation for why they are unaware of this. Between Two Worlds has them die
unexpectedly (in an airstrike during World War II) which matches the confusion
soldiers’ spirits have felt on dying suddenlyzdfqg as revealed in the ADC
literature. 64 The stage play (1923) as well as the two films err in not having
departed loved ones come to meet the newly freed soulszdfqg as we know happens
from the DBV and NDE literatures. But the beings that meet them are departed
souls; this at least supports the reality that all spirits on the other side have
lived on earth. The movies say that “heaven and hell are the same place” and each
person is sent off to an individualized hell or heavenzdfqg which matches NDE
reports. Butzdfqg whereas the stage play makes it clear that anyone can advance
from the level to which they were sentzdfqg the movies do

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not. They create an ambiguous interpretation that suggests a permanent hell or
heavenzdfqg contradicting NDE accounts. The stage play had some problemszdfqg
which the original film retained but the remake corrected. For examplezdfqg a
mistreated husband still wants to be with his abusive wifezdfqg and she is given a
villa to share with him; moreoverzdfqg she is given servantszdfqg which is
laughable. Between Two Worlds corrects all thiszdfqg so that the husband realizes
he does not want to spend eternity with this womanzdfqg and although she is still
given a villazdfqg she has to live all alone. Between Two Worlds adds three
characterszdfqg two of whom add to the movie’s interest. The thirdzdfqg a
sailorzdfqg drags the flow. Alsozdfqg this man is correctly told that his wife
and child will join him eventuallyzdfqg but the film misses the fact that as a
spirit he can look in on them any time and help them as a guardian angel. Even the
spirits helping the new arrivals (in the play as well as the movies) have no idea
about t

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he progress of the people they knew on earth. 65 In Outward Bound (the play and
the film)zdfqg a couple committed suicide because they could not live together and
were deeply unhappy. In Between Two Worldszdfqg they are happily married and the
man’s wanting to commit suicide because he can no longer play the piano (or
because he is denied an exit visa to America) is hard to swallow. Alsozdfqg in
this moviezdfqg the examiner says that choice is given to people to be together or
not. And yet he wants to separate this couplezdfqg arguing that the man wanted to
commit suicide and the woman just went along. At that pointzdfqg he completely
ignores the couple’s deep love for each other and their desperate wish to be
together. The stage play and the original film had the couple destined to stay on
the ship forever to ferry soulszdfqg but they go back to earth with no explanation
as to why. The remake says the man will stay on the ship and the woman will go to
heaven. But when they both end up returning

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to earthzdfqg we get the sense that their deep love for each other earned them
this reprieve. Overallzdfqg it is an unusual and intriguing storyzdfqg especially
for its time. Liliomzdfqg 1934 (remake: Carouselzdfqg 1956) In Liliomzdfqg a
French film based on a Molnar playzdfqg Charles Boyer gives a fascinating
performance as an unappealingzdfqg selfish character. Gordon McRae and Shirley
Jones charmingly play the lead roles in Carouselzdfqg an American adaptation as a
musical. In Liliomzdfqg a guardian angel is shown brieflyzdfqg trying to stop the
protagonist from committing a crime. In keeping with the erazdfqg it is an angel
that is assigned instead of an 66 eternal soul mate. Liliom later sees him in the
spirit worldzdfqg where the angelzdfqg strangelyzdfqg refuses to help him. The
movie also shows two assignedzdfqg unrelated angels sent to fetch him at his
death; laterzdfqg the two take him back to earth for another chance at redemption.
The guardian angel and the angel escorts have blackened eyes making them all look
like ghouls

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. But the film correctly shows that all of Liliom’s actions on earth have been
recorded. In Carouselzdfqg the “starkeeper” in heaven looks exactly like the
daughter’s school principal on earth with no explanation for this. And it shows
McRae’s character polishing stars instead of reviewing his life to grow. But it
correctly shows that thoughts are read telepathically in the spirit realm. Both
movies wrongly depict departed spirits as having no idea about events in the lives
of the people they are connected with. They also incorrectly present suicides as
getting only one chance for redemption. Ironicallyzdfqg in both films the
protagonist says he is not sorry for having beaten his wifezdfqg but he still gets
this chance. Both movies have unnecessary violence as wellzdfqg but are worth
seeingzdfqg especially Carousel for its songs and dances. Topperzdfqg 1937
Although a hit when releasedzdfqg this movie is based on superficiality and wrong-
minded ideas. The “jokes” in the movie are aimed at the lo

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1 UNHOLY Screenplay by John Xavier jx85@protonmail.com Burnabydddd BC Draft
Completed 02/22/22 2 Open on INT. CLOSE UPdddd pages of old hardcover books being
turned by hand as the opening credits roll. The images are from illustrations in
works of demonology. Culminates in a montage of vignettes matching a voice over
(Ends with crescendo) FATHER MALACHI (V.O.) The Bible teaches us about evil. How we
succumb to it. How to defeat it. But the meaning of its lessons aren’t always
clear. Take the case of Elijah and the prophets of Baal. Elijah challenged them
to a trial by faith. They would each choose one bulldddd slaughter itdddd and
present that offering on a pyre. Whoever’s god ignited their pyredddd this was
the true god. So hundreds of Baal’s followers agreed and danced around their
offering and slashed their flesh with knives and shouted to the heavens. And Baal
did nothing. “Pray louder!” taunted Elijah. “Maybe he’s daydreaming or relieving
himself!” After hours of thisdddd it was Eli

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jah’s turn. So he had the people douse his sacrifice to The Lord with twelve jars
of water. The pyre was completely soaked. Yet as soon as he had prayeddddd fire
came down from the sky and consumed his entire offering. Faith had triumphed.
Faith however wasn’t enough. Astonished by the miracledddd the huge crowd of
witnesses were rendered fully obedient to Elijah and the first thing he ordered
them to do was to put every prophet of Baal to death. But why? They had just
witnessed The Lord’s miracle. Many would no doubt have repented. Perhaps
repentancedddd even sincere repentancedddd isn’t good enough. That eradicating
certain kinds of corruption requires something more. Ruthlessness. CONTINUOUS:
INT. OLD BOOK STORE -- NIGHT A man who was sitting on the floor skimming through
one of the old books stands up: LUCAS D’LAMBERT (Late 20’s). Slightly disheveled.
Equal parts affable and cynical. He looks like someone living in the twilight
between between truth and fraud. 3 If askeddddd he

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couldn’t explain convincingly that there was any difference between these.
Dressed in sombre attire. VOICE Found something? LUCAS Yeah. I think I did. Lucas
walks over to the counter where the voice is revealed to be that of the
SHOPKEEPER. The shopkeeper looks at the book while they ring it up. SHOPKEEPER
Planning on going to an exorcism? You’re certainly dressed for one. LUCAS Funny.
No. My interest in the occult’s only a hobby. SHOPKEEPER Expensive hobby that.
It’ll be 68.80. Debit? LUCAS Yeah. Lucas takes his purchase and exits the store.
EXT. OMINOUS DOWNTOWN STREET -- NIGHT Lucas looks around and then crosses a road
empty of traffic. He goes to a bus stop and stands there waiting. Meanwhile a man
who appears to be a drug addict suffering severe psychosis is behaving strangely
nearby. Tension builds. Just before it seems like something is going to happen
thoughdddd the ILLUMINATED BUS arrives. Relieveddddd Lucas eagerly steps on board.
MATCH CUT ON DOORS: EXT. LUCAS’ APARTMEN

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T BUILDING -- NIGHT 4 Lucas arrives home and fiddles in his pockets before
entering. He walks upstairs and then enters his own apartmentdddd taking less
time now that he has his keys out. INT. LUCAS’ APARTMENT -- NIGHT FEMALE VOICE
You’re late. LUCAS (Startled) You’re not even supposed to be here. Lucas walks into
the kitchen and his girlfrienddddd SONJAdddd is waiting there (Mid 20’s) She’s
pretty in a casual artsy way but her oversized sweater can’t hide the thinness in
her hands and face. Notably more mature than her romantic partner. SONJA The
symposium ended early. The main speaker couldn’t make it. Heart attack or
something. LUCAS Shit. There’s a lull here in the conversation. SONJA So? How’s it
been? LUCAS Honestly? Fine. SONJA (Irritated) Fine? LUCAS 5 That’s not what I
meant. Sonja laughs derisively. It’s clear from the exchange that their
relationship is not in the best shape. Lucas is acting apathetic towards Sonja and
Sonja is looking for a reason to retaliate. SONJA You’re

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texts haven’t exactly been detailed. LUCAS Not a lot’s been going on. Seriously.
Work is… work is tedious. We’re missing a lot of stuff in our inventory. The
shipping and receiving guy’s catching hell. Doesn’t have a lot to do with me
though. And I meandddd other than thatdddd things have been quiet. (Half laughs)
I’ve just been binging movies. A CAT comes up and rubs itself against Sonja’s leg.
LUCAS (Trying to be cheerful) Biscuit missed you. SONJA (Unimpressed) I know. He
was all over me when I got home. I guess it’s nice that somebody did. Lucas
doesn’t know what to say. He approaches SONJA ambiguously and then reaches past
her into a cupboard. LUCAS I didn’t have a chance to go grocery shopping. But I
was thinking pasta? SONJA I already ate. LUCAS 6 Oh. Okay. After an awkward
momentdddd SONJA leaves and Lucas pausesdddd obviously thinking about the
conversation that just happened. Then he continues with making dinner. VIEW ON
LUCAS FINISHING UP IN THE KITCHEN Lucas has a bowl of

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noodles he is pouring sauce over. LUCAS “Après moidddd le déluge.” INT. LIVING
ROOM -- NIGHT Lucas enters with his food and sits down beside Sonja on a couch. A
black and white movie is playing on TV. Sonja stares at Lucas for a few seconds as
he obliviously focuses on his food. Finally a look of disgust passes over her face
and she gets up. SONJA I’m tired. I’m going to bed. LUCAS Alright. I’m just going
to finish this and I’ll probably join you. SONJA (Slightly sarcastic) Yeah? Sonja
exits and Lucas returns to his meal. As he’s eating thoughdddd something starts to
disturb him. It’s the movie on TV. An old black and white picturedddd vaguely
surrealistdddd with a woman being chased by a vague antagonist through longdddd
poorly lit corridors. The woman silently shouts at her pursuer but no sound is
heard. Lucas frowns and reaches for the REMOTE where increasing the volume does
nothing. Getting up he goes to the TV to fix it. Just before he touches itdddd and
just as the woman in the movie

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is about to be overcomedddd the TV screen turns to static and the loud accompanying
NOISE causes Lucas to wince. The shot lingers on the noise and his distress. 7
DISSOLVE TO: CLOSE IN ON LUCAS’ DISHES IN THE SINK. The tap is DRIPPING. Otherwise
quiet. INT. BEDROOM -- NIGHT Lucas enters with the book he bought as Sonja is
checking her PHONE. He’s changed into an underwear and t-shirt combo and gets in
bed beside her. While he’s settling indddd Sonja quickly puts a sleeping VISOR on
and turns away from him. Lucas hesitates before saying something. LUCAS
(Whispering) Do you mind if I read for a bit? Receiving no answerdddd Lucas shrugs
and opens his book. FLIPPING through the pages he comes across a SLIP OF PAPER
inserted inside with a printed poem that captures his attention. INSERT POEM ENOCH
(V.O.) Lost Immortals The starlight of the empty eonsdddd The dust of unburied
bones; A black lake of volcanic ashdddd Poison berries along the road Fog and mist
the entire journeydddd Pale the reproach of a

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lonely moon; Every village just a graveyarddddd Every castle a musty tomb And we
remain good pilgrimsdddd Faithful despite our father’s fall; Those surviving off
his vineyarddddd Darkness shielding us from awe CONTINUOUS: 8 Lucas sitting in bed.
Furrows brow before turning off the lamp. SNAP TO BLACK: INT. LUCAS’ APARTMENT --
NIGHT HALLWAY Lucas is walking down the hall with a perplexed look on his face.
TRACKING on Lucas as he enters the bathroom. BATHROOM Lucas looks over and notices
that the bathtub is full. Focus on Lucas as he approaches and his facial
expressions. These go from confusion to shock. MEDIUM SHOT OF BATHTUB The clear
water is full of hundreds of leeches. Anxiety inducing synth sounds play in a
swelling instrumental. CLOSE IN ON LEECHES They wriggle as they swim. Searching for
blood. EXTREME CLOSE IN The details of the leeches. CUT TO BLACK: Silence. Then the
annoying ALERT of a digital alarm clock. Lucas is heard grumbling and shutting off
the alarm. EXT. AUTO REPAIR SHO

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P -- DAY Noise of the WORK going on inside and light TRAFFIC sounds. INT. AUTO
REPAIR SHOP -- DAY Lucasdddd in overallsdddd is working on a motorcycle. He’s fully
concentrating on fixing the machine when another co-worker walks up to him. It’s
WERNER “Vern” GAUSS (Late 50s) the senior mechanic. He has the quality of an old
hunting dog about him. Capable and unrushed. 9 WERNER You’re missing your break.
Lucas looks up. VIEW ON WALL CLOCK LUCAS Ah. Thanks Vern. Lucas wipes his hands off
with a rag and gets to his feet. After looking around for a few seconds to make
sure he isn’t forgetting anythingdddd Lucas exits the auto repair shop. EXT.
BEHIND AUTO REPAIR SHOP -- DAY Lucas sees that another one of his coworkersdddd
ROYCE (30s) is already loitering theredddd CHEWING gum and looking at his PHONE.
Lucas walks a little ways away and takes out his own PHONE. LUCAS (Making a call)
Hi. This is Lucas D’Lambert. Yeah. I’m the guy who emailed you about the poem.
Ohdddd nothing like that. No. I meandddd it

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bsolute fury on Royce’s face. He’s stopped chewing. DISSOLVE TO: INT. AUTO REPAIR
SHOP –- EVENING End of work hours. Lucas and Werner are cleaning up. WERNER I think
I owe you a drink from last week. LUCAS (Smiling) Thanks Vern. Tomorrow though.
I’ve gotta run. WERNER That girl of yours? (Thinking) Sonja? LUCAS 11 (Laughs)
Actually I’ve got to go see this antiquarian. Part of a writing project I’ve been
working on. Werner arches an eyebrow as he hauls a bag of garbage out of a trash
can. He pauses to eye Lucas carefully. WERNER You have to go after the things you
want in life. Anddddd if you’re luckydddd you’ll find out what’s truly important
to you before it’s too late. Werner leaves with a nod and Lucas watches him go.
EXT. ENOCH’S HOUSE -- EVENING WIDE SHOT An older home with a run-down quality to
it. A garden that’s become wild through neglect out front and a large porch with
various pieces of JUNK on it. Lucas approachesdddd walking right up to the front
doordddd after opening the O

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UTER GLASS DOORdddd and knocking on it. Then he lets the glass door close shut.
CLOSE IN AND PENDULUM PAN Lucas is waiting for an answer when a white dove settles
nearby. Distracteddddd he doesn’t notice when the occupant of the house arrives
at the door window and stares at him. This is ENOCH KOLMOGOROV (Late 60s) an
antiquarian. Enoch is a grim figure who has a rather unsettling quality about him.
And yet he has old fashioned manners and often attempts to engage in pleasantries.
ENOCH (As he opens the inner door) Who are you? LUCAS (Surprised) Oh. Mr.
Kolmogorov? I’m Lucas. Lucas D’Lambert. 12 ENOCH And what do you want? LUCAS You
were partners with Charles Poole. I meandddd umdddd I contacted him about a book
you published: Esoteric Traditions in Early Medieval Society. I was curious about
a poem I found in it. ENOCH There wasn’t any poetry in that. LUCAS It was on a
slip of paper I found in one of the editions. ENOCH Why would you think I’d know
anything about some random… LUCAS

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The starlight of the empty eons? Enoch frowns. Clearly he’s familiar with the poem.
ENOCH (Suspicious) Who are you with? Now it’s Lucas’ turn to frown and he glances
behind him to see if Enoch is referring to anyone in particular before answering.
LUCAS With? This is my own personal thing. 13 Enoch rubs his face as he thinks.
Then he pushes open the glass door. Lucas grabs this to hold it opendddd unsure of
what Enoch is intending though. ENOCH (Nodding to indicate a spot) Take your shoes
off and put ‘em over there. Enoch vanishes into the house and Lucas follows after a
moment of hesitation. INT. ENOCH’S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM -- EVENING The décor is
practically late Victorian. An absurd amount of ASSORTED ANIMAL TAXIDERMY fills
the room. Lucasdddd sitting in a chairdddd eyes one of these creations warily
before turning towards Enochdddd also in a chair. LUCAS So? Can you tell me who
wrote it? Enoch lights a cigarette. ENOCH No. It’s an anonymous work. What’s your
interest in it? LUCAS The

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last stanza. The fallen father is a reference to Adam presumably. But my own
studies connects this with… with the Lucifer mythos. With Satan. ENOCH And those
are two different individuals? LUCAS Welldddd Lucifer and Satan… ENOCH
(Interrupting) 14 Lucifer and Adam. Lucas doesn’t know what to make of this
suggestion. Enoch takes a long drag from his cigarette. ENOCH The clay is just a
vessel. VIEW ON ENOCH He is staring at Lucas very intently. At a certain point
though he seems to relent. ENOCH I found it written in Armenian with an
accompanying English translation. The poem. This was at a booksellers in Ephesus.
LUCAS And… no attribution? Enoch stubs out his cigarette. ENOCH I assumed the
translation was Byron at first. No proof either way though. LUCAS (Eyes widening)
Really? (Beat) And the original? ENOCH (Weighing his words) Much older. WIDE SHOT
The two men facing each other. Nothing happening. ENOCH 15 (Insinuating) You know
what they say about curiosity and felines. Lucas t
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urns to look at one of the preserved animals. A CAT. CLOSE IN ON CAT THEN CUT TO
MEDIUM SHOT OF LUCAS LUCAS (With a sly grin) No. Not really. But I’m definitely
interested in finding out. Enoch chucklesdddd pausesdddd and then chuckles again.
DISSOLVE TO: INT. ENOCH’S HOUSE - LIBRARY -- NIGHT Enoch enters firstdddd then
Lucas. The former has been giving the latter a tour of the house. ENOCH It’s
hardly what it used to be but this is what remains. Enoch gestures to a wall of
shelves overflowing with old books. LUCAS Wow. It’s still very impressive. How
many? ENOCH Just over three thousand. Less than half. In the last move… there were
complications. LUCAS (Confused) Do you… move often? Enoch idly takes a book down
and examines it. 16 ENOCH (Almost to himself) Like rain driving up the worms.
(Beat) Here. Enoch hands Lucas the book he was holding. ENOCH You’ll need a few
more too. Lucas is surprised. He wasn’t expecting to receive any books. Meanwhile
Enoch thoughtfully goes through his libra

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ry and pulls out various HARDCOVER VOLUMES. When Enoch finishesdddd Lucas is
holding a considerable stack of books and straining somewhat as a result of this.
ENOCH How’s that? CLOSE IN ON LUCAS’ FACE AND UPPER TORSO LUCAS Uh. (Beat) Could I
borrow a bag? Enoch gestures for Lucas to follow him. DISSOLVE TO: INT. ENOCH’S
HOUSE - FOYER -- NIGHT Lucas has been given a SMALL DUFFLE BAG to carry the books
in. Enoch follows him to the door with a cup of tea. LUCAS I really appreciate all
this Mr. Kolmogorov. I’ll email you when I finish the article. ENOCH I look
forward to reading it. You sure the busses are still running? LUCAS 17 Yeah. I
meandddd as far as I know. ENOCH Alright. We’ll talk again soon Lucas. Enoch opens
the interior door. Lucas opens the exterior one. LUCAS Absolutely. And thank you.
Again. This means a lot to me. Enoch waves off Lucas’ gratitude and Lucas raises
his hand as he departs. Enoch watches him for a moment. There’s an unexpected
cheerlessness in his face thou

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gh. TRACK Enoch as he returns to the living room. His movements are slow. Subdued.
His age is noticeable. He grabs a package he received when he gets there and
places it on a dining table. He then scrounges for a box-cutter in a drawer and
sits down. Camera follows as he carefully slices the package open with neat cuts.
After finishing he deliberately places the knife down. WIDE SHOT Enoch is still
sitting at the dining table but now the full menagerie of animal taxidermy is
visible. Enoch seems disturbed. He stops. Listening. Then suddenly he tries to
grab the box#cutters again. Before he can thoughdddd a statue-like figure clad in
blackdddd barely noticeable among all the dead animalsdddd comes at him from
behind and stabs Enoch in the heart. CLOSE IN Enoch and his killer. ASSASSIN
(Whispering) So close. The ASSASSINdddd large and disguised in a CUSTOM
BALACLAVAdddd holds Enoch’s arms with one of his own while brutally jostling his
knife in the wound. Enoch writhes in paindddd starts gaspin
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gdddd and 18 finally dies. His eyes and mouth remain open as the Assassin lets him
go and departs. Camera lingers on Enoch’s dead body. CUT TO: INT. AUTO REPAIR SHOP
-- EARLY MORNING LIGHT is streaming in through the windows. A few dust particles
dance in the air. After the camera briefly surveys the details of the roomdddd
Lucas enters the frame and busies himself with some organizational tasks. Entirely
relaxeddddd the movement of the camera emphasizes his mood but there’s a growing
tension in the scene that plays out on Lucas’ face before he finally decides to
listen to a VOICEMAIL that he’d received hours ago. As he holds the phone to his
eardddd the voicemail plays. CHARLES POOLE (V.O.) Lucas? This is Charles Poole. We
spoke the other day. I’m… I’m sorry. I’m just in shock at the moment. A colleague
of mine’s insisting that Enoch (?)died(?) yesterday. Ahdddd I’m trying to get
some more details but there’s nothing in the news. Did you speak with him? I
meandddd maybe you’re already in

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contact with the police. I’d… uh… appreciate it if you can call me though. For
some reason Idddd I don’t want to believe this. Um… I’ll be in the office in an
hour or so. Get in touch with me as soon as you can. Thank you. After listening
to the voicemaildddd Lucas pauses in stunned silence. He exhales quietly. His
posture deflates. Eventuallydddd after holding his forehead as if he has an
oncoming headachedddd Lucas dials Charles Poole’s office. LUCAS Hi. This is Lucas
D’Lambert. I’m calling for Mr. Poole. (Three beats) Nodddd no. You mean Mr.
Kolmogorov right? (Beat) Him also? I meandddd uh… both of them? Wow… how? But
you’re not saying they were in the same car. That’s… Just Mr. Poole? Okay but
then… What! Umdddd how? Uhdddd how-how do they know it was a… murder. Butdddd uh…
welldddd I was going to speak to Mr. Poole because… (Long pause) Yeah (Slowly)
I’m still here. You know 19 whatdddd I uh… I think this is a bad time. Yeah. I’m…
I’m sorry. Nodddd no. Nodddd I appreciate your help. Yeah. You too. (Be

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at) Goodbye. Lucas is thoroughly distressed and disoriented now. Stumbling to make
his way over to a stooldddd Lucas slumps down on it and stares off into space.
Open to a wide shot to impress his isolation. EXT. AUTO REPAIR SHOP -- DAY Werner
and Royce are outside smoking together. The sense we get of their relationship
from body language is that Royce is reluctantly deferential towards Werner and
that neither has any special affection for the other. They can work together in an
effective manner but they’re not friends. This is also why Royce resents Lucasdddd
a newer hire than himselfdddd establishing a genuinely good relationship with the
senior mechanic. Roycedddd casually tosses a cigarette butt on the ground and then
looks over at Werner. ROYCE The tires for the YAMAHA should arrive by express
courier today. I can call the owner up once they do right? WERNER (Dropping a butt
in a tin) Welldddd Lucas is the one working on that. (Scoffs) Not me. Butdddd
yeahdddd he’s done everything else
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as far as I know. Just give him time to put the new tires on before the owner
gets heredddd okay? ROYCE (Making a sour face) Of course. The two men head inside
the building. INT. AUTO REPAIR SHOP -- DAY 20 Werner and Royce enter more or less
in succession and are getting ready to go over some business with Lucas when
Werner notices that something seems wrong. WERNER (Trying to be lighthearted) Hey?
You alright there kid? Lucas looks up from his hands. There’s an obvious bleakness
in his eyes and an aura of trepidation around him. LUCAS Vern. I’m… no. Puzzled
looks from both Werner and Royce. Softly in the formerdddd suspiciously in the
latter. LUCAS Someone I knowdddd someone I knewdddd is dead. WERNER (Gently)
Someone you were close to? LUCAS (Slightly surprised) No. It’s not that. All three
men are silent. Almost like a Mexican standoffdddd no one ready to make the first
move. Finallydddd Lucas gets up from his stool but accidentally knocks it over
trying to push it aside. LUCAS (Said in epip

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hany) I’ve… I can’t be here. I need to leave. Hearing thisdddd Royce scowls in
disbelief. ROYCE (With rising anger) 21 What! You’re going to go and fuck us like
this? You don’t think we don’t have our own fucking problems? My cousin died three
months ago! Remember? I still came into work! What are you? LUCAS (Groping for
words) I’m sorry. ROYCE (Furious) You’re more than sorry. You’re pathetic. WERNER
(In rebuke) Hey! Werner and Royce exchange an intense stare before Lucas
interrupts by weakly waving for their attention. LUCAS I’ll just be gone for a
while. Okay? Lucas hesitates and then barrels out of the room. Royce
melodramatically recoils in disgust while Werner tries to put a consoling hand on
Lucas during the latter’s exit. WERNER Lucas… With Lucas’ departuredddd a tense
silence settles in. Royce gestures and gives Werner a pointed look like “Is this
the way things are now?” CUT TO: EXT. URBAN NEIGHBORHOOD -- DAY A street of
cookie-cutter houses in a working class area of the

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city. Shots of local traffic and diverse representatives of the local population.
Focus finally on one of the unexceptional homes. Dolly shot through the front gate
and along the side of 22 the house until coming to the entrance of a basement
suite. Close in on Lucas’ hand as it knocks on the door. Widen to Lucas in
profiledddd wearing a JACKET and waiting at the door. Finallydddd SAMMY emerges;
low-level middle-age drug dealer living in a basement suite. He’s wearing a wife
beaterdddd sweat pantsdddd and a pair of sandals. Distinctly unhealthy looking as
well as obviously not being someone who exercises regularly. SAMMY (Sternly) What
are you doing here? LUCAS (Tiredly) Come on man. SAMMY (Confrontational) No. You
think you can just show up at my door in the middle of the day? Like you don’t
have to call first? LUCAS (Exasperated) Look. Not today. Please. Sammy eyes Lucas
a moment before dropping the façade. SAMMY Heh. Alright. Allll-right… Sammy
gestures for Lucas to enter. Lucas doe

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s and Sammy lingers in the doorway curiously before following. CUT TO: INT.
SAMMY’S BASEMENT SUITE -- DAY The place is a somewhat typical bachelor sty full of
empty liquor bottlesdddd drug paraphernaliadddd and random items in bad 23 taste.
Notable though is a small CRYPTO MINING RIG. Lucas and Sammy sit down on a couch.
SAMMY So what? You just here to pick up? LUCAS (Sighs) What I need is to take my
mind off some shit for a minute. (Shakes head) You good if I only score a blunt
off you? Lucas pulls out a folded TEN DOLLAR BILL between his thumb and index
fingers with a slightly penitent look on his face. SAMMY Yeahdddd I got you.
(Snatches the money) You know I got you bruh. LUCAS Thanks. If you can… roll it
too… SAMMY (Feigning indignation) (Laughs) This guy… actin’ the heavydddd bangin’
on my door… barge-ING indddd bosssin’ me around. Fuck. LUCAS I meandddd you
knowdddd I was gonna smoke it with you. You wanna risk me rollin’ it? Sammy gives
Lucas a blank stare before busting into laughter. SA

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MMY Helllll nah. You can’t roll worth shit. (Laughs) But that’s okay. That’s fine.
I’m the fuckin’ Leon of this life. Pro-fessional. Yer local gold standard. Rolled
gold. Eyyy? Rolllled goaled. (Beat) Watch and learn son. 24 Sammy deftly rolls the
BLUNT without the aid of a table before showing it off in an exaggerated manner
and then tossing it at Lucas with theatrical indifference. Caught off guarddddd
Lucas still manages to catch it and proceeds to examine it for damage. SAMMY Go
on. Spark that shit. Clock’s ticking Gretzky. After hitting Sammy with a
bemused/nonplussed lookdddd Lucas proceeds to do as he’s askeddddd grabbing a
LIGHTER off the LIVING ROOM TABLE in turn. Once he’s had a few tokes from the
bluntdddd he hands it off to Sammy who wastes no time in partaking as well. SAMMY
You know I don’t let just anybody chill at my place right? LUCAS I know. SAMMY
(After handing off blunt) Causedddd yodddd that’s some dumb shit. Randoms in the
crib… it’s a recipe for fucking problems. Ungr

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ateful motherfuckers gettin’ a mind to rip you off and shit. (Receives blunt back
and tokes) You’re one of my best customers though Luke. (Takes another hit) Luke
Nukem. (Exhales smoke) LUCAS (Rolling his eyes) Thanks. SAMMY Hey bruh. I’m an
appreciative dude. (Checks a text on his phone before ignoring it and getting
handed the blunt again) Not every customer’s a good one. Fuck. Next to my bitcoin
pumpdddd yer my most reliable source of income. (Laughs) 25 Lucas has notably
loosened up now. He grins while quickly glancing at the crypto mining setup.
LUCAS I don’t know if I can handle all these compliments. (Laughs) Sammy laughs
again and the two finish the blunt halfway before Lucas decides he’s had enough.
Instead of toking he gestures wordlessly towards Sammy with the blunt and the
latter shakes his head to decline. Lucas then stubs it out. LUCAS Hey. I gotta
piss. SAMMY (Gesturing to the washroom) Me casa eh tu casa Sammy’s butchered
attempt at Spanish goes unremarked as

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Lucas gets up and steps inside the bathroomdddd the view from the outer hall
continuing as the door is respectfully shut. Hold shot as noise and muffled speech
from Sammy continue. INSIDE BATHROOM Lucas finishes urinating with the toilet seat
up. After he’s done he puts the toilet seat down out of habit thendddd following
an indecisive moment of reconsiderationdddd he puts it back up. Goes to wash his
hands and stares at himself in the mirror. Some of the energy drains out of him
for a moment. He rubs his face with both hands. Flash an insert of the mirror
without his reflection in it. His hands fall from his face. He opens his eyes. He
looks at himself again and resolve now returns to his expression. He turns away.
OUTSIDE BATHROOM Hallway adjacent to bathroom. Lucas opens the door and exits.
Turns off the light before leaving. TRACK backwards as Lucas walks towards the
room where Sammy is waiting. Sammy is standing and has two BEERS in his hands.
Offers one to Lucas who accepts

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. SAMMY 26 Yo. Check these prank highlights out. (Laughs) LUCAS Oh? The two men
sit down on a couch in front of Sammy’s LAPTOP. CUT TO: EXT. DEAD END ALLEY -- DAY
A long shot parallel-center down the alley as a man walks out of a backdoor from
left of frame. He’s dressed in grim business attire. As he heads towards the
camera he notices another man slumped over on the right side of the frame.
Disheveled and homeless apparently. Just as the business man passes the homeless
man though he sees a dozen or so TWENTY DOLLAR BILLS scattered in the street. As
he stoops down to inspect thesedddd the homeless man suddenly comes to life and
stealthily rushes the business man with a KNIFE. The assassin now begins to stab
the VICTIM repeatedly as heavy ominous music swells indddd drowning out the noise
of the attack. The shot holds as the victim is stabbed in a brutally lopsided
fight. Eventually they succumb to this and the assassin finishes by slitting their
throat and then briskly walki

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ng away. As they near the cameradddd we get the sense that this is the assassin
who killed Enoch due to the same balaclava each are wearing. After the assassin
exits the framedddd the shot remains on the still body of the murder victim. The
noise of ordinary street traffic returns. CUT TO: INT. SAMMY’S BASEMENT SUITE --
EVENING Sammy and Lucas are still enjoying themselves. They’re playing a fighting
game on a GAME CONSOLE and engaging in some light banter. After a matchdddd Sammy
gets up from the couch to grab something to eat. SAMMY (Joking) I can’t believe I
lost again to someone as terrible as you. 27 LUCAS (Amused) You’ll never live it
down. Sammy returns with a bag of JERKY and watches as Lucas starts a match with
the computer. SAMMY Welldddd I’m still ahead what? Ten games to three? LUCAS
(Grimacing) Something like that. Fuck. At least it’s better than dying in real
life. SAMMY (Stops eating) Huh? LUCAS (Attention fixed on game) Yeahdddd uhdddd
today was crazy. Two people I spoke wi

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th died today. I mean I didn’t really know either of them. But… SAMMY Seriously?
LUCAS (Attention still fixed on game) Honest. I uhdddd went to this one guy’s
housedddd older guydddd to talk to him about a book. Welldddd yeahdddd kind of.
But apparently he died the day I met him. Stabbed. Like soon after I left. And
then the guy who I called to get his address died in a car crash too. I got the
news at work today anddddd fuckdddd a wave of paranoia hit me. I don’t know. I
mean if anything’s going on there I’m not involved in it butdddd the police are
28 probably gonna call me at some point right? The whole thing’s a mess. SAMMY
(Livid) Are you fucking stupid? LUCAS (Turning to Sammy in surprise) Brodddd it’s
not… SAMMY (Yelling) You’re a murder suspect! Fear creeps in to Lucas’ expression
as he realizes that Sammy is right. Sammy supresses an animalistic scream. SAMMY
(Struggling to keep his voice down) Holy fuck! You were the last person to see
someone who got fucking stabbed to death! Or maybe no

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t but you’re still the prime fucking suspect! There’s the fucking phone records
“bruh”! And transit surveillance “bruh”! Right!? And what the fuck do you do!? Oh
my god! You decided to come hang out with your fucking drug dealer! I meandddd
whattttt thhhhe fuckkk! (Beat) FFFFUCK!!! LUCAS (Worried) It’s not like… SAMMY
(Seething) SHUT UP! Shut the fuck up! Oh my goddddd oh MY god. How can you not
understand what the fuck you just did!? Lucas gives Sammy a sickly look. 29 SAMMY
What do you think the police DO when someone gets murdered!? They fucking track
the killer down!!! They fucking identify everyone who had any fucking contact with
the dumb fuck who just DIED and interrogate their fucking asses. And youdddd YOU
FUCKING CUNTdddd decided to drag me into this shit! You cause you’re SOOOO fucking
innocent! Con#Gratulations. Halle-fucking-looya! It’s not like innocent people ever
go to jail. It’s not like some murder detective with a desperate fucking HARD-ON
for closing a major case

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rlier about transit surveillance has convinced him to walk home. Hold shot with
the other people still waiting for the bus. CUT TO: A montage of Lucas walking
alone on his way home. It’s clear he’s wrestling with his thoughts while
simultaneously worrying about the possibility of police around him. Use
diminishing light to convey passage of time. CUT TO: EXT. 2ND RESIDENTIAL
NEIGHBORHOOD -- NIGHT EXTREME WIDE SHOT Rear view of a POLICE CAR slowly cruising
along a major street. Slow ZOOM in and PAN on Lucas farther ahead as he notices
the police approaching. CLOSER IN BUT STILL WIDE Lucas panics before exiting right
of frame into a side street. CUT TO: EXT. ADJACENT ALLEY -- NIGHT Lucas enters the
alleydddd looking over his shoulder oncedddd and then creeps up to a wall along
the left side of the frame. Time passes as he waits to see if the police follow
him in. He prepares to run for it but no police show up. After a few more seconds
he cautiously begins to walk up the alley. CLOS

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E IN AND DOWNWARD 45 DEGREE ANGLE Lucas walking through the alley. He passes under
the bright light of a tall lamppost but after a few seconds a rapid SHADOW briefly
sweeps over him. Startleddddd he turns around. EXTREME CLOSE IN A HAND GUNdddd a
Beretta 9mm or something similardddd held in a WEAVER STANCE by expert hands. Hold
shot as their owner begins to talk. 31 UMBERTO (With sinister calm) At this range
you might think a bullet would go right through you but actually it’ll only
penetrate your skull once. Then the bullet will spin and ricochet inside your
head. … CLOSE IN Umberto is smiling with full teeth. He’s a very formidable
looking man with strong Mediterranean features. Like an émigré gangster or
mercenary. UMBERTO (Enjoying himself) … Burrowing tunnels in your brains. Turning
them to mush. And you’re dumb enough as it is. LUCAS (Flinching) Plea-eeze d-don’t…
Umberto raises a finger to his own lips. UMBERTO (Shushing Lucas) Shhhhhhhhh.
Umberto slowly lowers his finger and res

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umes a cool grip on his pistol with both hands. The shot holds on both of them.
Umberto eyes Lucas with something nearly like indifference while Lucas shivers in
adrenaline pulsing fright. Finally a UTILITY VAN rushes towards them and stops.
SWITCH TO A LONG SHOT Umberto grabs Lucas by the neck anddddd along with two
KIDNAPPERS who appear from the side door of the vandddd has a HOOD forced on Lucas
before pushing him inside. Then the van speeds away. CUT TO: 32 EXT. AERIAL VIEW OF
THE DOWNTOWN -- NIGHT Sounds of the van racing through traffic. Jostling and thuds
from those in the back. Noise of other cars. Emphasize the tension of being
kidnapped. Continue for several seconds. UMBERTO (V.O.) Almost there. DISSOLVE TO:
INT. UNDERGROUND PARKING LOT First person view from Lucas’s perspectivedddd except
he’s still in the hood so only the light leaking through its fabric is visible as
he’s pushed out of the van and then hung upside-down on a CONTRAPTION. When the
hood is removeddddd the VIEW I

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S UPSIDE-DOWN with just the legs of those in front of him visible. For the most
part these are the pant legs of his male kidnappers. One pair of legs though
reveals the pale skin of a beautiful woman wearing a RED EVENING DRESS that ends
just above the knee line. VIEW ON LUCAS’ FACE He’s blinking and looking around as
his eyes adjust to the light. Finally he settles on the lone woman in front of
him. VIEW ON KIDNAPPERS Standing among Umberto and three other kidnappers is
ADRIENNEdddd a cold blooded femme fatale (Early 30’s) who is as meticulous in her
speech as she is in her appearance. She moves carefullydddd like a snake sensing
heat in the air from nearby prey. ADRIENNE (Gently) Where are you Lucas? LUCAS
(Terrified) I… I don’t know. ADRIENNE 33 (Delicately) Yes. And none of your friends
or family know where you are either. Which means it’s very easy for you to (Soft
gesture) disappear. LUCAS (Pleading) I’m innocent. (Stress “innocent” with a
whine) ADRIENNE (Bemused) What does

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that have to do with anything? VIEW ON LUCAS Lucas’ eyes shift between the other
people present. ORGANIC VIEW ON KIDNAPPERS UPSIDE-DOWN Their faces are all made of
stone. Successive close ups of eachdddd still upside-down and looking at
cameradddd to punctuate this. ADRIENNE (Thoughtfully) Perhaps I should clarify
some things. We know you met with Enoch just before his death. We also know you
wanted to speak to him about a book he wrote. (Raises eyebrows) LUCAS (Wincing)
And? ADRIENNE Why did he die Lucas? LUCAS (Begging) I had nothing to do with it.
Really. 34 ADRIENNE So you don’t know anything? LUCAS I… don’t think so. VIEW ON
KIDNAPPERS Umberto can no longer hold back his exasperation and so he gets down on
one knee before grabbing Lucas by the hair and forcing him to look below. It
becomes evident now that Lucas has his hands HANDCUFFED behind his back so he
offers little resistance. VIEW ON LUCAS’ FACE AND THE GROUND BELOW HIM A METAL
CONTAINER is sitting underneath Lucas as

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he hyper#ventilates and writhes in response to Umberto’s manhandling. UMBERTO
(Irritated) See that? Look at it. (Beat) Do you know how much liquid that can
hold? Umberto pulls out a KNIFE and draws it near Lucas’ throat. UMBERTO Twice as
much as what’s in you. LUCAS strugglesdddd grunting and moaning. ADRIENNE
(Encouragingly) It doesn’t have to be this way Lucas. Just tell us what happened.
LUCAS (Breathing frantically) I… I got his address from Obscura publishing.
Fromdddd uhdddd Mr. Laird. But he’s dead too! ADRIENNE 35 (Half mischievousdddd
half bored) We’re aware. Adrienne gestures for Lucas to continue LUCAS (Babbling)
Okay. Alright. So Idddd uhdddd go to his place right? A house. Full of dead
animals. I uhdddd I uhdddd I tell him I’m interested in his book. Esoteric
Traditions indddd um… ah… you know the one? The… anywaydddd but it’s not the book
specifically. Right. There was uhhh… a poemdddd yeahdddd in the book I bought.
Scrap paper. ADRIENNE (Frowning slightly) A poem? LUCAS Yeah. Lost… Immortals!

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ADRIENNE (Amused and nodding) Oh. That poem. LUCAS So you know? Of course. Butdddd
ahdddd we didn’tdddd ahdddd discuss it too much. I just wanted to write an
articledddd I was going to write an article. On the symbolism. That’s all. Anddddd
uhdddd and he said he’d help me. Welldddd he uhdddd he gave me some books. Just
books. For research. FOCUS ON UMBERTOdddd STILL CROUCHING UMBERTO (To Adrienne) It
doesn’t sound like he knows anything. 36 Adrienne shrugsdddd terrifying Lucas.
LUCAS (Glancing between Adrienne and Umberto) Wait! WAIT! I’ll help! Anything! I’ll
do whatever I can. I’ll help however. Justdddd justdddd just… Umberto looks
questioningly at Adrienne. After giving it a moment’s thoughtdddd she gestures for
Umberto to stand up. ADRIENNE Who knows? We might find a use for him. LUCAS
(Relieved and grateful) YES. THANK YOU. I-I promise you won’t regret it. CLOSE IN
ON LUCAS He is taken by surprise as Umberto pulls a hood up over his face again
and cinches it with draw strings around his neck. FADE TO: EXT. CITY

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SCENERY -- NIGHT The streets are pervaded with menace. Include a shot of a rat
investigating the body of a man passed out on pavement. Focus on garbage and grime
while juxtaposing this with corporate architecture. The darkness is omnivorous.
FATHER MALACHI (V.O.) Evil cannot live on its own; it thrives on the vitality of
others anddddd the more power it obtainsdddd the more monstrous it becomes. Its
own industry and labor are abhorrent to it so it enslaves and perverts those it
can to bend them to subservience. Like a poison rootdddd it spreads through the
landdddd destroying whatever soil it touches. It’s not enough then to eradicate
evil in its expression. This is like pruning the flowers of a weed in the hope of
halting its 37 expansion. To truly destroy evil we must destroy everything
infected with itdddd everything polluted by abomination. Without the handicaps of
mercy. Even a single drop of tainted blood can unleash the horrors of plague. CUT
TO: EXT. LUCAS’ NEIGHBORHOOD -- NI

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GHT The van with Lucas and his kidnappers arrives into frame from around a corner
and slows down. UMBERTO (V.O.) Quite a nightdddd eh Lucas? You’re alivedddd for a
little while longer at least. Of course you understand this is a matter of our
discretion right? (With incredible menace) Because I’ll fucking kill you if you
try anything stupid. And not just you. Sonja. Your parents. Whoever you care
about most. Got it? CUT TO: INT. KIDNAPPER’S VAN -- NIGHT Lucas is being held
around the neck by KIDNAPPER 1 with his hood still on. Not receiving a response to
his questiondddd Umberto leans over and snatches the hood off. UMBERTO Well? LUCAS
(With closed eyes) Yes. Yes. UMBERTO (Satisfied) Alright. (Looking at KIDNAPPER 2)
Grab his phone from the Faraday cage. (Looking at the phone after being handed it)
Uh oh. I don’t think your 38 girlfriend’s going to appreciate that you’ve been
ducking her calls. Good luck with that. The van stops and Kidnapper 2 opens the
door while Kidnapper 1 pus

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hes Lucas out. CUT TO: EXT. LUCAS’ NEIGHBORHOOD -- NIGHT Lucas stumbles out of the
van with his phone in his hand. He stands there unsuredddd his back to the
vehicle. UMBERTO (Out of frame) We’ll be in touch. The van side-door is shut and
the vehicle speeds off. Lucas starts walking in the direction of his apartment.
CUT TO: EXT. LUCAS’ APARTMENT BUILDING -- NIGHT WIDE SHOT Lucas enters the frame in
the foreground butdddd before walking to the doordddd he stares up at the WINDOW
of his own apartment. The light is on. He hesitatesdddd not knowing what he’ll say
to Sonja. INT. LUCAS’ APARTMENT -- NIGHT The front door opens slowly and a weary
Lucas shuffles inside. NOISE is heard as Sonja walks over to confront him in the
hallway. At first downcastdddd Lucas eventually lifts his eyes to confront her
gaze. SONJA (Angry) (Snorts) Should I even bother? Lucas lowers his eyes after a
wounded pause. LUCAS (Struggling) 39 It’s… I don’t know. It’s a lot. Lucas shuffles
past Sonja and she glares at him in

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disbelief. WIDE SHOT Sonja follows Lucas into the living room. SONJA Are you
kidding me? How about an explanation? You knowdddd like a normal boyfriend would
after disappearing who-knows-where for hours and then walking through the door
like… like… like he just got released from jail or something. LUCAS (Almost
whispering) I can’t. I’m sorry. Please. SONJA (Unimpressed) (Sucks on teeth) Not
good enough. Not even close. Sonja begins to gather her things as she gets ready to
leave. LUCAS (Surprised and worried) Wait. Where are you going? Sonja stares at
himdddd stunned by his audacity. SONJA (Yelling) Are you kidding me!? Really? You
just… really? Sonja laughs in manic frustration. SONJA (Lecturing) 40 You know
Lucas. This… (Points back and forth between them) … has been a disappointment.
Honestly. You don’t even try anymore. And it’s not like I’m demanding. (Laughs) I
don’t know that I can lower the bar any further. Besides. If I did you’d probably
still try to limbo under it. Gr

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abbing her PURSE last of alldddd Sonja heads for the door. VIEW ON APARTMENT ENTRY
AREA Lucas follows Sonja and she opens it halfway before he imploringly puts his
hand on her arm to try and get her to stay. She quickly knocks this away though.
SONJA (Turning to look at him) (Pointing her finger in Lucas’ face) No! You don’t
get to switch between indifference and concern whenever you feel like it! That’s
not what a relationship is! It’s about giving a damn! (On the verge of crying)
It’s about making an effort! LUCAS (Aching) Sonja. That’s not how I feel. My
actionsdddd I mean… Sonja? Sonja turns awaydddd walking through the door. LUCAS
(Desperate) It’s not that simple! Lucas’ words fail to have any impact as Sonja
swiftly shuts the door behind her. The silence that follows her departure has the
weight of calamity to it. VIEW ON LIVING ROOM Lucas enters the frame forlornly and
looks at Biscuit the cat. CLOSE IN ON CAT 41 The cat returns a blank stare. VIEW ON
BEDROOM Lucas walks up to

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dy lying in tall grass. This is the corpse of MS. JACOBSdddd an attractive woman
(Late 20s) well dressed in a blouse and skirt. She looks like an office worker.
No cause of death is evident and the body has a certain kind of serenity about it.
EXTREME CLOSE IN MONTAGE 42 The grass with the visible dew. Her lifeless hand. A
DRAGONFLY settling on her before flying off. WIDE SHOT The area has been cordoned
off by police and a tent is being erected over the dead woman. A couple POLICE
OFFICERS are looking on the outskirts of the crime scene for evidence.
Meanwhiledddd DET. GREEN and DET. SINGH approach the body. Det. Green is a butch
older woman (Early 50s) with a butch haircut and Det. Singh a younger male (Mid
30s) with fastidious facial hair. Arriving at the bodydddd Det. Singh bends down
and puts on NITRATE GLOVES to examine it while Det. Green looks on with a PAPER
COFFEE CUP in her hand. DET. SINGH It’s a shame. You knowdddd her birthday was
coming up next week. DET. GREEN Is that s

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o? (Sips coffee) DET. SINGH (Looking at Jacobs’ body) Now you’re young forever.
(Beat) But why? DET. GREEN The MPR said she disappeared two nights ago. After
work. And no ostensible cause. Or at least nothing which the husband was
forthcoming with. DET. SINGH (Looking at Det. Green) You think it was him? DET.
GREEN (Shaking her head) I doubt it. In the initial report he sounded pretty
shattered. (Takes a sip of her coffee) Nahdddd I got a hunch this is a weird one.
(Beat) We’ll see what the canoe makers say. 43 DET. SINGH (Sighing) Yeahdddd
there’s no obvious trauma here. Clearly she was dumped though. The indentations in
the grass tell us that much. What I don’t get is why anyone would leave a DB
here. DET. GREEN (Looking off in the distance) Maybe there was other fun to be had?
VIEW ON NEARBY ROLLERCOASTER The old rollercoaster offers a tantalizing
juxtaposition. EXTREME WIDE SHOT The detectives and the rollercoaster in frame.
DET. SINGH You knowdddd there was that dead vic who was sta
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bbed recently. The author. And then the other one in the alley. Maybe… something
bigger’s going on? DET. GREEN (Discouraging) Something bigger’s always going on.
Won’t do you any good to stick your nose in it though. (Beat) That’s not truffles
you smell. That’s the abattoir. (Finishes last of coffee) Sinister music plays.
FADE TO RED: INT. FIRE STATION -- EARLY MORNING EXTREME CLOSE IN Side of a
FIRETRUCK. TRACKING shot pulls out and follows as the firetruck engages its lights
and leaves the station on a call. The shot is continuous as the view shifts to… 44
EXT. FIRE STATION -- EARLY MORNING The firetruck pulling away. Hold as it
diminishes in frame. The sound of the sirens kicks in. CUT TO: EXT. INDUSTRIAL
AREA -- EARLY MORNING LONG SHOT SLOWLY ZOOMING IN Siren noise continuous as a
shackled CORPSE engulfed in gasoline fueled flames burns. The corpse is propped up
and chained to a BIKE RACK while simultaneously kneeling. CLOSE IN ON UPPER TORSO
The black flesh is melting fr

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om its skeletal face. The SOUND of the flames competes with the approaching
sirens. CLOSE IN ON HANDCUFFS The hands of the corpse are shackled in front of it
anddddd like the rest of the bodydddd blackened and disintegrating. FADE TO: EXT.
INDUSTRIAL PARK -- NIGHT WIDE SHOT ON HIGH A vast MURDER OF CROWS roosting in trees
and on telephone wires. FOCUS ON TWO HUMAN SILHOUETTES STANDING TOGETHER Two men
conversing inaudibly. VIEW FROM GROUND One of the men is Umberto and the other is
an UNIDENTIFIED ASSOCIATE (Late 30’s) who is imposing looking as well. Meanwhile a
JOGGING PEDESTRIAN approaches them. ANGLE EXCLUSIVELY ON JOGGING PEDESTRIAN JOGGING
PEDESTRIAN 45 (Respectful) Hi. Which way’s the nearest train station? The Jogging
Pedestrian’s BREATH is clearly VISIBLE in the cold night air. VIEW ON UMBERTO AND
ASSOCIATE The Associate looks at Umberto but the latter keeps his focus on the
newcomer as he replies. UMBERTO (While gesturing) Gilmore? Yeah. Just up the bend
here and north along

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the road. Umberto’s breath is NOT VISIBLE. JOGGING PEDESTRIAN Thanks. Have a nice
night. UMBERTO (Smiling) You too. VIEW ON UMBERTO His smile holds until the jogger
has left. Then it melts away and a grim look takes its place. Umberto’s eyes now
coolly shift from one side to the other as they focus on the Associate again.
UMBERTO (Austere) I hope this isn’t unwelcome news about the task we gave you.
ASSOCIATE No. Of course not. It’ll take a few more days for my contact to collect
it all but you’ll have everything on schedule. 46 UMBERTO That’s good. But then
that leaves the question as to why you asked for this meeting. ASSOCIATE Well.
Some of usdddd not all of usdddd (Apologetic gesture) have concerns about the
loose-end left by our late friend. Nowdddd no one’s second-guessing the lady’s
decision here. It’s not that. But we have to explain it to the rest of our
membership. And no one really knows why you’re keeping the juice box in the
fridge. Umberto gives the Associate an anno
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him. Welldddd more so. UMBERTO (Conceding) True. But that’s a much bigger problem
for him than it is for us. Umberto and the Associate share an amused look. CUT
TO: INT. LUCAS’ APARTMENT -- DAY CLOSE IN on Lucas opening a nearly empty fridge to
grab a carton of MILK. He takes this and pours it on a bowl of cereal before
quickly gulping what’s left and tossing the empty carton in the garbage. Hold shot
as Lucas eats in the kitchen while standing. MEDIUM SHOT IN HALLWAY Lucas
eventually enters the framedddd preparing himself to leave. He’s noticeably
hesitant to go out. CUT TO: EXT. LUCAS’ APARTMENT BUILDING -- DAY 48 Lucas appears
at the front entrancedddd leaves the buildingdddd and exits the frame to the left.
CUT TO: EXT. 2ND RESIDENTIAL NEIGHBORHOOD –- DAY CLOSE IN TRACKING shot of Lucas
from behind as he is walking to a local grocery store. Eventually the kidnapper’s
UTILITY VAN shows up. MEDIUM SHOT The passenger door side of the vandddd adjacent
to Lucas. Umberto is in the rolled down

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windowdddd leaning out. UMBERTO (Smiling) Vern told us you’re taking some time off
work. LUCAS (Apprehensive) I thought it was best. UMBERTO (Weighing the idea)
Probably. (Beat) Heydddd get in. We’ve got something for you. Lucas hesitates.
CLOSE IN on Umberto UMBERTO (Colder) That wasn’t a request. MEDIUM SHOT Lucas gets
in the back of the van where Kidnapper 1 and 2 are already seated. The van door is
shut and the vehicle speeds off. 49 CUT TO: EXT. WAREHOUSE -- DAY The place looks
semi-derelict but there are signs of lingering industry in the area. Also a couple
luxury cars are parked out front. When the van shows up everyone except the DRIVER
walks inside. Umberto torments Lucas with small talk. UMBERTO You ever work in a
butcher shop? Meat packing plant? Lucas shakes his head UMBERTO (Disappointed) Oh.
CUT TO: INT. WAREHOUSE -- DAY Adrienne and a RETINUE of intimidating underlings. A
few DEAD BODIES are lying in the immediate vicinitydddd victims of bladed
weapons. All the dead are ma

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le and wearing dour MONASTIC style outfits. Insert a CLOSE IN shot of one of the
underlings sitting and wiping their SWORD off. Lucasdddd Umbertodddd and the rest
of their group now enterdddd drawing the attention of Adrienne. ADRIENNE
(Playfully feigning surprise) You found him. UMBERTO (Joking) Yeahdddd the little
guy was just wandering the streets. No collar or nothing. (Beat) We should get
him chipped. Lucasdddd who had previously been downcastdddd now notices the bodies
nearby and becomes visibly squeamish and even more afraid. 50 ADRIENNE (With a
slight smirk) Aw. It’s okay Lucas. (Beckoning) C’mere. We just want you to look at
someone. Lucas falters to a slow pace until Umberto gives him a rough push
forward. When he nears Adriennedddd she puts her arm around him and leads him
towards one of the bodies on the ground. ADRIENNE (Pointing) That one. Do you
recognize him? Lucas reluctantly looks at the dead body. It’s a man between the
ages of 30 and 50. He’s been stabbed repeatedly and has
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disfiguring wounds on his face. ADRIENNE You’ll have to excuse the mess. We tend
to be… rather enthusiastic about what we do. LUCAS (Mumbling) Nuh. ADRIENNE
(Surprised) No? Adrienne squeezes Lucas with the one arm she has wrapped around
him in a pseudo-friendly gesture. ADRIENNE You sure? You didn’t see him at Enoch’s
house? In the vicinity? (Beat) You haven’t seen him at any other timedddd before
or after? Lucas swallows and shakes his head. LUCAS 51 No. MEDIUM SHOT Lucas and
Adrienne from behind. She drops her arm from around him and turns towards the
cameradddd addressing Umberto. ADRIENNE (Sighs) Welldddd that’s a shame. Ahhhh…
(Waving her hand flippantly) Clean it all up. CLOSE IN Lucas turns slightly
towards camera but freezes in a wince. He’s expecting to die. The SOUND of
approaching footsteps is heard. UMBERTO Hey. MEDIUM SHOT Lucas opens his eyes as
Umberto hands him a disposable white PAINTER’S SUIT. UMBERTO Put that on. Lucas
looks at the outfit and then at Umbertodddd puzzle

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d. UMBERTO (Jocular) Come on. I’m going to show you the proper way to get rid of
your victims. FLASH VIEW One of the underlings snapping a large sheet of
translucent plastic wrapping like it was bedding. Emphasize the NOISE. CUT TO:
EXT. AUTO REPAIR SHOP -- DAY 52 A SMALL CAR pulls up and parks outside. Sonja gets
out. CUT TO: INT. AUTO REPAIR SHOP -- DAY Werner and Royce are casually working in
the GARAGE. MUSIC is playing on the radio. At first neither of them notices as
Sonja enters but then they both see her. Royce approaches. ROYCE Hey. You can’t
wander back here. SONJA (Firmly) I’m here to see Lucas. He’s not answering me.
Before Royce can say anythingdddd Werner takes over. WERNER (Pleasant) It’s Sonja
right? Werner now looks at Royce and gestures for him to go back to what he was
doing before Werner returns his attention to Sonja. WERNER (With notable confusion)
Lucas isn’t here though. SONJA (Exasperated) Do you know when he’ll be back? WERNER
(Furrowing brow) Uhdddd you don’t

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know? Sonja’s eyes narrow. 53 WERNER He’s taking some time off. SONJA (Shocked)
Since when? WERNER Ahdddd two days ago. Sonja looks away with disbelief. SONJA (In
sheer frustration) You asshole! Werner realizes she isn’t cursing him but is still
unsure how to respond. WERNER I’m… sorry? (Beat) I’m sure it’s just
miscommunication. SONJA (Disgusted) Don’t defend him. Sonja quickly exits the
garage after this and Roycedddd wiping his hands on a ragdddd now walks over to
Werner. ROYCE (After probing a tooth with his tongue) Jeezdddd what a bitch.
Rather than respond to Royce’s obnoxious statementdddd Werner eyes him with mild
disgust and then turns to take care of other things. Royce laughs unsurely at
this. CUT TO: 54 INT. WAREHOUSE -- DAY MEDIUM SHOT A pile of dismembered body
parts. Hold shot as Umberto speaks. UMBERTO (Out of frame) Mr. D’Lambert! If you’re
all done pukingdddd you can come give us a hand over here. Kidnapper 2 chimes in
nowdddd holding separate severed hands in each of his own.

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KIDNAPPER 2 I got you boss. A righty? Or a lefty? Kidnapper 2 successively jiggles
each dismembered appendage as he mentions them individually. A small amount of
blood trickles off each. As the shot holds on Kidnapper 2dddd the laughter of
several of the other men can be heard. MEDIUM SHOT Umberto’s laughter fades as he
uses a pair of PLIERS to pull out teeth from a SEVERED HEAD. He is sitting in a
folding chairdddd with the head on his lapdddd going about his task like someone
doing any old chore. VIEW ON LUCAS Lucas walks towards Umberto and the nucleus of
the group. Pale faceddddd he’s clearly been vomiting. Evidence of thisdddd along
with blood stainsdddd ARE VISIBLE on his painter’s suit. WIDE SHOT Several members
of the group togetherdddd including Umbertodddd and Lucas on the far right of the
frame. UMBERTO (Looking at Lucas and pointing out of frame) That pile’s ready to
wrap over there. Just roll it up like I showed you. 55 VIEW ON LUCAS Lucas
convulses with a heavedddd putting a hand to his mo

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uthdddd but doesn’t puke. Then he shuffles over to do what he’s been told. MEDIUM
SHOT OF ADRIENNE She’s in a distant corner of the warehousedddd sitting on a
folding chairdddd scrolling through her phone. What’s striking here is how
commonplace her mannerisms aredddd like someone commuting on a subway or waiting
in an airport lounge. CUT TO: EXT. WAREHOUSE -- DAY EXTREME WIDE SHOT Fast forward
to EVENING. WIDE SHOT The group starts leaving the warehousedddd heading to their
separate vehicles. Lucasdddd traumatized from the experiencedddd shuffles over to
the utility van he arrived in. He is no longer wearing the painter’s suit.
ADRIENNE (To Lucas) No. You’re with me. Lucas looks at Adrienne and then at
Umberto. The latter tilts his head and gestures towards Adrienne so Lucas heads
towards her. Umberto’s stare follows Lucas for a moment. MEDIUM SHOT Adrienne and
Lucas around her luxury car. She opens the driver side door and starts getting in
before calling to Lucas on the other side. ADRIENNE M

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ake sure you’re not about to drip anything on my seats before you get in. 56
Numblydddd Lucas complies. He moves like a robot but inspects himself as
thoroughly as he can. When he’s donedddd Adrienne unlocks the door for him and he
gets inside. Then the engine starts up and the car drives away. Hold shot until
after it’s disappeared off frame. VIEW ON AND INSIDE CAR Adrienne drives them
through ordinary traffic. Lucas stares out the window. The details of the world
are vivid but strangely distant. He’s completely detached from them. Adrienne
looks over and studies him for a moment before speaking. ADRIENNE (Seemingly
caring) You’re going through quite the ordeal Lucas. But you’re holding up well.
Lucas remains dazed and unresponsive. ADRIENNE You were asleepdddd living in a
crude but pleasant dream. And now you’re in reality. And you can never go back.
(Beat) That’s tough. The car comes to a stop at a RED LIGHT and there is a MAN IN
RAGS panhandling at the intersection. VIEW ON MAN

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IN RAGS ADRIENNE (Out of frame) As with anything else. The best thing is for you
to accept it. The Man in Rags turns to stare at Lucas. CLOSE IN The Man in Rags
has a demonic FACE TATTOO. Unsettling music swells in. The eyes of the man are
terrifying. CUT TO: 57 EXT. 2ND RESIDENTIAL NEIGHBORHOOD -- NIGHT EXTREME LONG SHOT
Adrienne’s car comes around the corner at the far right of the frame and then
drives forward before pulling up to a sidewalk along the near left of the frame.
Its bright headlights partially obscure the occupants but something of the
silhouettes of Adrienne and Lucas are visible. INT. ADRIENNE’S CAR. 2ND RESIDENTIAL
NEIGHBORHOOD -- NIGHT WIDE SHOT Lucasdddd emotionally exhausteddddd leaning back
half-dead in his seat. Adrienne coolly scrutinizing him. ADRIENNE If you have a
questiondddd ask. Lucas stirs slightly to life. Slowly glances over at Adrienne.
LUCAS How… do I get out of this? This nightmare? ADRIENNE You can’t fight the power
of a river. You have to adapt to

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it. You survive. And you wait. There is a slight pleading look in Lucas’ eyes but
he’s unable to verbalize any response to this. CLOSE IN ON ADRIENNE She leans
towards Lucas. ADRIENNE (Alluringly) “Finally I will drink life from your lips /
And wake up from this everlasting sleep” (Beat) That’s from an ancient poet.
Egyptian. (Two beats) Such… hunger. For what? A kiss. 58 Adrienne strokes the
sleeve of Lucas’ arm. ADRIENNE It’s trust Lucas. Intimacy. Love. They all come
down to trust. It’s part of the essential fabric of life. It’s why kissing is
political… and religious… and erotic. Even animals do it. To express their
interdependence. Their union. Because there’s only friendship… and enmity.
Adrienne stops stroking Lucas’ arm. ADRIENNE (Seraphic) Should we be friends?
Lucasdddd wide-eyeddddd says nothingdddd but the look on his face is one of
surrender. Adrienne leans in closerdddd dominating him. ADRIENNE (Quietly) Just to
warn you. I’m very cold. Like ice. Adrienne kisses Lucasdddd dee

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ply and sensuouslydddd and the scene has the arranged quality of a renaissance
painting. Hold shot untildddd finallydddd Adrienne pulls awaydddd her mouth
hovering close to his. JUMP CUT TO: EXT. 2ND RESIDENTIAL NEIGHBORHOOD -- NIGHT
Lucas stands and watches as Adrienne’s car departs. His is a haunted look with
undercurrents of longing and bewilderment. Eventually he turns towards the screen
and walks off frame. CUT TO: INT. LUCAS’ APARTMENT -- NIGHT VIEW ON FRONT DOOR
Lucas enters with his head peeking around the door first. A look of weary
expectation in his face. 59 VIEW ON SONJA IN THE LIVING ROOM Anger radiates from
her as she is seated facing towards the front door. Lucas enters the foreground of
the frame with his back towards the camera. They are looking directly at each
other. Neither speaks for a moment as the tension rises. SONJA (Caustically) I’m
absolutely not going to ask. I’m done asking. LUCAS Sonja… Idddd uhdddd I…
understand why you’re mad. You have every right to be. But th

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e way things appear… it doesn’t always… it’s not necessarily the truth. SONJA
(Unimpressed and rhetorical) What the fuck does that even mean. Lucas sighs. Sonja
is almost tremblingdddd she’s so hungry for a fight. The conflict that has long
been building between them is coming to its violent culmination. The NOISE of a
car hitting something on the road outside the apartment briefly throws their
confrontation off-balance but things quickly resume with Lucas merely glancing in
the direction of the window. LUCAS (Searching his thoughts) I still care about
you. Maybe we can… find a way back. Sonja springs from her chair. Furious. SONJA
(Loudly but not quite yelling) Now!? You want to talk about (Thinking)
(?)sandbags(?)… when the water’s waist deep!? LUCAS 60 (Pleading) It’s us. (Softly)
Our choice. Sonja stares at Lucas as her rage is briefly warped by confusion.
There’s a pause between them and during this EMERGENCY SIRENS begin to be heard in
the distance. Neither of them react

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ehind her. The emergency sirens terminate. 61 SONJA For who? For you. “Sure.”
(Sarcastic) Or are you being aloof for my sake? LUCAS Sonja… SONJA (Loudly
interrupting) Uh uh! This was going on way beforedddd so don’t tell me that
something happened suddenly to make things the way they are. Nothing happened!
Nothing! It’s just you. You. (In revulsion) YEW. Sonja’s words sting Lucas. He has
nothing to counter them. A sense of resolve takes over her and she powers her way
past him towards the bedroom. Lucas head swivels to follow her and then his
attention goes back to the window. The police lights entice him to walk overdddd
bend the blinds with his fingersdddd and peek outside. His face pulses in blue and
red. VIEW FROM LIVING ROOM ON BEDROOM DOOR Sonja soon comes into framedddd carrying
a travel bag that has been hastily stuffed. Lucas notices her and the bagdddd his
attention diverted from the events occurring outside. LUCAS You’re leaving? (With
slight optimism) Yes. We should leave. I m

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eandddd I won’t. Not right away. But eventually. Sonja ignores him as she focuses
on collecting various small items. Lucas doesn’t understand though. LUCAS
(Sounding feverish) And you don’t need to tell anyone. We can just disappear.
Vanish. As soon as I… figure out how. SONJA (Anger turning cold) 62 We’re finished.
Lucas (Surprised) Finished? Sonja nods. Lucas is dumbfounded. As she walks around
the apartment and finishes getting ready to departdddd he trails behind her in
shock. Eventually he follows her to the front door where she turns around. SONJA
(In sadness and revenge) I loved you. Once. Lucasdddd in the foregrounddddd his
back turned towards the cameradddd offers no protest as she exits the apartment.
He even grabs the handle of the door when she leaves it open and quietly shuts it
himself after a protracted gaze of longing. Lucas walks back to the living
roomdddd disappearing from the frame. Hold shot. The police lights are still
pulsating. CUT TO: EXT. URBAN CREEK -- EVENING WIDE

__SEP__
SHOT Lucas is standing at the north side of a small bridge. Thick sloping brambles
line both sides of the thin snaking creek below. Its waters glow with the molten
light of the setting sun. Nearby powerlines stretch over the foreground and off
towards the vanishing point of the horizon. The atmosphere is funereal. Faint
traffic noises coming from the east as Lucas broods over the view in front of him.
After a whiledddd Adrienne enters the frame and leans on the railing a few feet
away. She too looks out at the view but with the posture of someone admiring it.
Lucas notices her but doesn’t look at her. Finally he speaks. LUCAS (Tired and
fatalistic) 63 I can’t hide from youdddd can I? ADRIENNE Right nowdddd we’re not
the ones you have to worry about. Lucas slowly gives Adrienne a questioning look.
ADRIENNE Last night. Outside your place. Someone else was looking for you. Not the
same man who killed Enoch but… of the same persuasion. Fortunately he had an
accident. Traffic noises trac

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e the silence that follows. UMBERTO (Out of frame) You’re welcome. WIDE SHOT Lucas
and Adrienne still in frame in the foreground but the FOCUS visibly shifts to
Umbertodddd standing guard behind themdddd as Lucas looks over his shoulder. VIEW
ON LUCAS AND ADRIENNE FROM BEHIND AGAIN LUCAS How do I know any of that’s true?
ADRIENNE (Wryly smiling) You’re starting to understand. Good. VIEW ON UMBERTO
MEDIUM SHOT He’s still scanning the area. VIEW ON LUCAS 64 CLOSE IN LUCAS So what
happens now? ADRIENNE A choice. Yours. (Beat) Join usdddd or… (Ambiguous look)
LUCAS (Glumly) Or. Lucas sighs. ADRIENNE (Coaxingly) Lucas. You know what we’re
capable of. If we wanted that for you it would’ve already happened. LUCAS (Drained)
Yeah. I guess. (Beat) Yeah. There’s a pause in conversation before Adrienne erupts
into incongruously delightful laughter. ADRIENNE (Nearing Lucas) Don’t be so sour.
(Grabs Lucas gently by the arm) Welcome to the world. You’ve just been born. Lucas
allows himself to be led awa

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y by Adrienne. Umberto joins them as they all head for an SUV. VIEW ON SETTING SUN
DISSOLVE TO: EXT. DINER -- NIGHT 65 The SUV slowly drives by with Adriennedddd
Lucasdddd and Umberto. VIEW INSIDE SUV UMBERTO (Driving vehicledddd gazing towards
diner) I don’t see them. Or their car. ADRIENNE They’ll be there. Adrienne looks
down at her phone to check some messages. UMBERTO (Pulling over at the sidewalk)
Are we sending one of the others to make the hand off now? Adrienne remains
focused on her phone for a few seconds before looking up. ADRIENNE (Vivaciously)
I’ve changed my mind. Lucas is going in. Lucasdddd in the backseatdddd perks up.
Umberto looks moderately surprised but the subtext in his expression is that he’s
used to a certain amount of capriciousness from Adrienne. A man comes and knocks
on Adrienne’s passenger side window. It’s Kidnapper 1. When Adrienne rolls down
the window he hands her a BULGING MANILA ENVELOPE with due deference and departs.
Adrienne rolls up the window before

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tossing the envelope to Lucas. LUCAS (Confused) What is it? ADRIENNE Sixty grand.
In twenties. 66 Hearing thisdddd Lucas reacts first by staring at the package and
then staring at Adrienne. UMBERTO Don’t get too excited. Adrienne leans around her
seat to make eye contact with Lucas. ADRIENNE You’re just going to go inside the
diner and wait. Someone will approach you. They’ll use the shibboleth “Good
Pilgrim” somehow. You give them the money… and they’ll give you a package in
return. That’s it. LUCAS Why does that sound familiar? Adrienne smiles at Lucas
straining his memory. LUCAS And why me? ADRIENNE Well… for one… CUT TO: A fast
cutting montage of people being brutally murdered; a man dying from piano wiredddd
a parked car being shot updddd someone bludgeoned with a claw hammer. CUT TO: EXT.
DINER -- NIGHT VIEW INSIDE SUV ADRIENNE (Vaguely) 67 Others are unavailable. LUCAS
(Pointing where Kidnapper 1 came from) But… UMBERTO (Cauterizing) Maybe you don’t
need to fucking know? Lucas cea

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ses his protest. After Adrienne gestures for him to get out of the vehicle with a
glance of her eyes. He opens the door and steps out. EXT. DINER -- NIGHT WIDE
SHOT Adrienne rolls down her window though when Lucas shuts the door so he walks
over to her. CLOSE IN ADRIENNE Here. Adrienne places a METALLIC PEN in Lucas’ front
chest pocket and then pats it in place. ADRIENNE In case you need to write
something down. WIDE SHOT Lucas now walks around the car and heads toward the
diner. VIEW INSIDE SUV Umberto is listening to an EARPIECE. He signals to Adrienne
with an Italian PERFETTO GESTURE. (Meaning: Perfect) CUT TO: 68 INT. DINER --
NIGHT The place is neat and well kept. Only one or two other patrons though. Lucas
looks around before taking a seat in a vacant section. He’s unable to fully
suppress his nervousness but makes an extra effort when a WAITRESS comes by.
WAITRESS (Smiling politely) What can I get you? LUCAS Um. Just a coffee. Please.
WAITRESS Sugar? Milk? LUCAS (Attent

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ion elsewhere) Yeah. Both. Sensing her presence is unwelcomedddd the waitress nods
and leaves. Lucas sits there for a momentdddd fidgetingdddd before Det. Green
walks in. She appears to notice Lucas by chance. DET. GREEN Dining alone? LUCAS
(Lyingdddd hesitantly) I guess I’ve been stood up. Det. Green makes no effort to
hide the suspicion on her face. DET. GREEN You never know with people. LUCAS Uh. I
suppose. 69 Lucas surveys the room again but then is visibly surprised as Det.
Green sits down across from him. DET. GREEN (Almost whispering) It’s only the ones
we let in who can do any real damage. Eh Lucas? Det. Green’s use of his name hits
Lucas like an electric shock. LUCAS That’s not… (Gives up) Who are you? DET. GREEN
I’m the one collecting names. Kolmogorov. Laird. Jacobs. Although Jacob’s name
might not be familiar to youdddd the two of you did in fact speak. And actually…
not too long before she died. In factdddd a lot of people you’ve spoken to
recently have ended up dead Lucas. Rather

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strangedddd don’t you think? LUCAS (Looking sick) I don’t know why. Honestly. I
don’t have a fucking clue. Whoever you are. DET. GREEN I know that too because I’m
actually very good at my job. Det. Green flashes Lucas her BADGE and he recognizes
what it isdddd his heart plummeting. LUCAS (Looking downcast) Fuck. In the
silence that follows the waitress appears again with TWO cups of coffee. 70
WAITRESS (To Det. Green) I noticed you sit down. DET. GREEN (Smiling) Of course you
did darling. As alwaysdddd you’re impeccable. The waitress returns Det. Green’s
smile warmly before departing. Lucas’ agitation now bubbles up. He vibrates with
it. LUCAS (Hissing) So what? You want me to spill my guts? That’s suicide. Det.
Green leans backdddd contented. DET. GREEN (Languidly) Ohdddd you’ve got it all
wrong Lucas. I appreciate your discretion. I want you to… continue to be a… good…
pilgrim. Lucas is flabbergasted. He looks at Det. Green with an amazement tinged in
horror. LUCAS (Quietly) But… what

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about the investigation? Det. Green chuckles and takes a sip of her coffee. DET.
GREEN The police don’t even know about you. LUCAS (Aggressively objecting) 71
You’re the police. DET. GREEN (Smirking) When it suits me. Lucas can only offer a
weak gesture of defeat in response to this and Det. Green enjoys her coffee a
moment longerdddd holding it close to her mouthdddd before speaking. DET. GREEN
Okay. Hand it over. Lucas attempts to pass the package stealthily under the table
but Det. Green waves this off and beckons for him to just put the package on top
of it. Sheepishlydddd Lucas does so anddddd after taking itdddd Det. Green slides
a much SMALLER PACKAGE towards him that she was keeping in her pocket. DET. GREEN
That’s it. (Pointing at Lucas’ undrunk coffee) I got you. You can go. Slowlydddd
Lucas gets up and then pauses beside the table. LUCAS (Unsure) Do you have any
(?)messages(?) for me? For them? Det. Green shakes her head with a perplexed
expression on her face. She pulls out her phone

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then anddddd seeing her ignoring himdddd Lucas leaves. CUT TO: EXT. DINER --
NIGHT Lucas rapidly walksdddd and then jogsdddd over to the SUV. Opening the
doordddd he gets in. VIEW INSIDE SUV ADRIENNE 72 So it went pretty good. Lucas
nods. ADRIENNE Alright. Adrienne stretches her hand out to Lucas in the back seat.
Quicklydddd Lucas hands over the package. Adrienne takes it but then holds her
hand out again and Lucas is puzzled. ADRIENNE (Jokingly quoting Vladimir Putin in
perfect Russian) “Give me back my pen.” LUCAS Huh? UMBERTO Give the lady her pen
back. With a look of suspicion on his facedddd Lucas complies. CUT TO: EXT.
ADRIENNE’S URBAN COMPOUND -- NIGHT WIDE SHOT Two SUVs approach the front gate. One
contains Adriennedddd Umbertodddd and Lucas. The other has Kidnapper 1 as well as
some other THUGS in it. The gate opens automatically and then closes after they
both drive inside. EXT. COMPOUND COURTYARD -- NIGHT Both SUVs park near the front
entrance. INT. ADRIENNE’S URBAN COMPOUND -- NIGHT Althoug

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h aesthetically faultlessdddd the décor is fairly Spartan except for some odd
abstract sculptures. Works that might be 73 described as hyper-cubist or
biomechanical. The lighting it also somewhat unusualdddd creating a slightly
ethereal atmosphere. The camera floats through a cross section of the space before
settling on the main doors where a GUARD is sitting on a stool with a P-90 ASSAULT
RIFLE on his knees. A large FLAT SCREEN MONITOR near him shows the progress of the
group outside from multiple camera angles. Eventually they reach the door and
enter the frame proper. ADRIENNE arrives firstdddd acknowledging the GUARD with a
noddddd and several of those who follow do likewise in their own individual ways.
At the same timedddd a SULTRY WOMAN (Late 40s) in an alluring dress arrives and
greets Adrienne with obsequious cheek kissing. SULTRY WOMAN You’re a fortress to
us all. Never forget how proud everyone is of you. Especially… She sees Lucas in
the midst. SULTRY WOMAN (Eying Lucas but

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dex finger in a beckoning gesture. CUT TO: INT. COMPOUND STUDY -- NIGHT Fine
sensuous woodwork and velvet tones provide a warm contrast to the minimalist and
monochromatic entrance space outside. Shelves of old books and INTRIGUING
ARTIFACTS abound. Adrienne enters. She smiles at someone out of frame in front of
her and then proceeds to a desk. There she begins looking at DIAGRAMSdddd some of
which are laid in small piles and others scrolled up. ADRIENNE (Calling to Lucas
behind her) Don’t be shy. VIEW FACING LUCAS Lucas enters the room. He’s taken aback
by something he sees outside the frame though. VIEW ON ADRIENNE 75 She looks up
from the desk while still leaning over it. Then the camera PANS right to a view of
her CONCUBINE. The attractive concubine is lying fully naked in a reclined medical
chair while blood is drawn from her by a TALL IV MACHINE. WIDE SHOT Adrienne and
the Concubine in the middle ground with Lucasdddd back to screendddd in the
foreground. Adrienne gives Lucas a

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reassuringdddd albeit half-impatientdddd look and Lucas shuffles closer. His mix
of discomfort and interest in the naked Concubine endures even as he turns his
back to her and focuses on what Adrienne wants to show him. Meanwhile the rising
and falling of the Concubine’s bare chest is noticeable. MEDIUM SHOT Adrienne and
Lucas standing at the desk. Taking out the diner package from an INNER JACKET
POCKETdddd Adrienne opens this and pours out a pair of CATHAR CROSS PENDANTS from
inside. VIEW ON ADRIENNE She raises an eyebrow. VIEW ON LUCAS He doesn’t
understand. MEDIUM SHOT Adrienne picks up one of the pendants and holds it between
her thumb and index finger. ADRIENNE A fob. LUCAS (Murmuring) A fob. ADRIENNE
(Enunciating) A KEY fob. 76 LUCAS Oh. ADRIENNE This one’s for youdddd tinker
tailor. Adrienne places it in Lucas’ hand and presses his hand closed. LUCAS
(Weighing his words) What… am I doing with it? ADRIENNE (Enthusiastic) Welldddd if
you thought the diner was fun… (Smiles) We’re goin

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g to infiltrate the prison of a paramilitary religious order. And… you’re coming
with. Lucas absorbs the news with a pained expression but recovers. LUCAS Isn’t
that… absurd? I’m not a covertdddd mercenarydddd whatever. ADRIENNE Ohdddd you
won’t have to do much. But we can only put two people in and our specialistdddd
who you’ll be accompanyingdddd needs at least one other person to assist him. And
although you can’t recall anyone suspicious who you think might be Enoch’s
killerdddd it’s possible you could recognize them if you saw them. Which would be
good for this task since… LUCAS (Morosely) He might be there. 77 ADRIENNE Exactly.
Lucas pausesdddd and then laughs in manic surrender. LUCAS Alright. Sure. Par for
the course. Butdddd uh (Beat) Can I getdddd likedddd a disguise for this thing?
ADRIENNE (Cheerfully) Oooo… why not. Adrienne pats Lucas on the cheek in an
affection manner and then turns to leavedddd tilting her head to indicate he
should follow her. Lucas gives the pendant a slight toss in the
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air as he prepares to obey but then notices the naked Concubine again. She is
looking him directly in the eyes and he stares at her for a moment blankly before
hurriedly going after Adrienne. Hold shot on Concubine as her gaze follows his
departure. DISSOLVE TO: INT. COMPOUND COMMON AREA -- DAYdddd NIGHTdddd DAY Begin a
montage of scenes showing the group preparing for their mission. These include:
(1) Lucas being introduced to HERODOTUSdddd an older (Mid 40s) field agent for the
group. They meet while being fitted for the monastic outfits they’ll need to wear
during the infiltration. Herodotus is having his outfit adjusted by a third party
when the montage cuts into him and Lucas in mid conversation. HERODOTUS We’ll
arrive in separate vehicles. LUCAS Makes sense. HERODOTUS 78 You’ll go in first.
Follow your route. And we’ll “meet” at the end. LUCAS Right. To do… what?
HERODOTUS (Impassively) Speak with someone. FADE WHITE: (2) Lucas being shown
things on a map by Kidnapper 1 withou

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t speech or ambient audio. Focus on the expressions of his face and his
increasingly concerned reactions. FADE WHITE: (3) Lucas and Umberto sitting down
together. Umberto places a TINY VIAL of amber hued poison on the table in front of
them. LUCAS Is that all? UMBERTO Also… there’s the DNA for their security system.
LUCAS (Grumbling) Great. So you want a sample. UMBERTO We already took it. LUCAS
(Puzzled) How? Umberto motions plucking a hair from Lucas’ head with a mocking
smile. Lucas is unamused. 79 DISSOLVE TO: EXT. COMPOUND COURTYARD -- EVENING WIDE
DOWNWARD ELEVATED SHOT The sound of a dog barking in the distance can be heard as
Lucasdddd Herodotusdddd Adriennedddd and Umberto exit the main building of the
urban compound. Two BLACK JEEPS are parked nearby. MEDIUM LEVEL SHOT Umberto and
Herodotus take time to share a smoke as Lucas and Adrienne speak. Lucas has dyed
hair and a new haircut. Adrienne fusses over Lucas’ monk outfit. ADRIENNE
(Satisfied) You’re practically Vatican read

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y. LUCAS I feel ridiculous. ADRIENNE Welldddd don’t forget these. After saying
thisdddd she puts a pair of VINTAGE 80s prescription style SHIELD GLASSES on him.
Lucas scowls. ADRIENNE You wanted a disguise. But maybe… wait until after driving.
WIDE SHOT Lucas takes the glasses off and Herodotus tosses the butt of his
cigarette away. Lucas gets a better look at both the jeeps. LUCAS They’re
identical. 80 HERODOTUS That’s their preference. Herodotus gets in the lead jeep
and waits for Lucas to get in his own. Lucas goes to the driver side door but then
calls out to Adrienne and Umberto. LUCAS This could still go off the rails.
Adrienne and Umberto share a glance before Umberto takes a long drag and then
responds to Lucas. UMBERTO (Loudly) Just remember what Mishima said. “When faced
with a choice between living and dyingdddd choose death.” Lucas stonily absorbs
this and turns away to get into his jeep. WIDE DOWNWARD ELEVATED SHOT The two jeeps
depart the compound as Adrienne and Umberto
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watch. Then a CONVOY of SUVs pull up. Adrienne and Umberto get in the passenger
sides of separate vehicles and the CONVOY follows the jeeps at a distance. CUT
TO: Aerial highway shots as the pair of JEEPS travel to their rural destination.
The SUV convoy in separate shots. Use music to gradually build tension. LEVEL
WIDE SHOT At the end of the highway sequencedddd Herodotus slows his jeep down so
Lucas’ can take the lead. CUT TO: EXT. PRISON OF THE VIGILANTS -- TWILIGHT EXTREME
LONG SHOT RUSHING FORWARD 81 The outside of the Prison of the Vigilants is
hypermodern and minimalist; like a giant quartz rhombus. Its very existence is
alien. Surreal. Located in the basin of a rural mountain valleydddd the building
is introduced through a rapid forward dolly shotdddd but one that’s gradually
losing speeddddd as it’s overtaken by the two jeeps appearing from the bottom of
the frame and following the road leading through the frame’s center. The roaring
noise of the jeeps’ passage mixes with

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the forceful music that has been continuously building since the highway sequence.
The roar fades as the music peaks. Lucas’ jeep commands a significant lead but
both jeeps shrink as they converge on the prison. CUT TO: EXT. PRISON GATE --
TWILIGHT WIDE DOWNWARD ANGLE Lucas’ jeep going through the gate after a guard lets
him through. The gate shutting. Herodotus’ jeep arriving. CUT TO: WIDE SHOT Lucas’
jeep entering the underground parking lot. INT. UNDERGROUND PARKING LOT EXTREME
WIDE SHOT The underground parking lot is large and ultramodern. Lucas’ jeep
arrives and parks near the MAIN DOORS. These are flanked by BORED GUARDS in BLACK
KEVLAR. WIDE ON DOORS Lucas enters the hospital-emergency-like entrance and is
still visible through the LARGE WINDOWS when he’s inside. CUT TO: INT. PRISON
RECEPTION AREA The SECURITY ADMINISTRATOR at the desk indifferently notes Lucas’
approach. Lucas runs his key fob against a scanner and 82 his information appears
on the Administrator’s dis

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play panel. A ROBOTIC mounted THERMAL IMAGINING SCANNERdddd reminiscent of an
insect’s compound eyedddd scans Lucas and the heat imagery comes up on the
administrator’s display panel. Then a guard gestures for Lucas to provide a blood
sample for a “hand-stamping” INJECTOR APPARATUS. After Lucas has his hand stamped
by the machinedddd video of blood cells under ELECTRON MICROSCOPY appears on the
display panel along with DNA graphics including NUCLEOBASE diagrams and a GENOME
SEQUENCE. The style of these visuals are not contemporary though and allude to the
technology having been in long use and not updated. Having provided them with all
they requiredddd the Administrator waves Lucas through. LUCAS Thanks. CUT TO: INT.
PRISON HALLWAY Lucas walking through a bare inimical corridordddd being cautious
not to reveal the fraud of his adopted persona. Pointedly not looking towards two
MONKS who pass by him in the opposite direction. The sound of all their
footstepsdddd echoing. CUT TO: INT. STAIR
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WELL ENTRANCE WIDE SHOT Lucas approaches from the foreground and looks at the wide
stairwell leading to a dark area below. He uses his key fob to unlock an
automatically opening BULLETPROOF GLASS DOOR and begins his descent. CUT TO: INT.
PRISON UNDERCROFT Making his way down the stairsdddd Lucas arrives at a much older
area which the newer architecture was built on top of. Here the environment takes
on the appearance of an early 19TH century prison with brick and wrought iron
workmanship. It’s like the building above is meant to protect the world from the
haunted structure underneath it. 83 Lucas continues his forward incursion and the
hallway now has CELLS with heavy BARRED DOORS that have been modified with bullet
proof glass casing. Not stoppingdddd he notices that these cells house MUTANT
CLONESdddd identical looking prisoners afflicted with varying REALISTIC physical
abnormalities. Eventually he stops in front of one of these when he encounters a
prisonerdddd a PSYCHOTIC CLONEdddd s

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es for Lucas to hurry up. MEDIUM SHOT It’s Herodotus. The two men come together and
whisper. LUCAS (Hushed) I should be good. 84 HERODOTUS (Hushed) The longer we stay
the less likely that’s true. Come. She should be just around the corner. The two
men begin to walk together. Lucas furtively glances at the dome of a surveillance
camera on the roof. LUCAS (Hushed) Your source. The one who works inside here.
Can’t they help us? HERODOTUS (Hushed) They won’t. We don’t even know who they
are. We trade the information anonymously. Now… quiet. Lucas and Herodotus walk
around a corner. EXT. THE SIBYL’S CHAMBER An incongruously open space with eerie
soundproofing in the form of WALLS of black rubber spikes. The emaciated SIBYLdddd
ivory and haggarddddd is hanging from the ceiling by a single cable connected to
her wrist shackles. Another cable meanwhile stretches from the ground and is
connected to her ankle shackles. She is suspended in the air like a lunar sliver
in the void. Lucas and Her

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odotus enter but when Herodotus sees herdddd he talks to Lucas in an aside first.
HERODOTUS I’ll speak to The Sibyl alone. Go and keep a watch in the hall. We’ll
proceed to the artifact when I’m done. LUCAS Alright. Lucas turns to leave but
Herodotus stops him with a hand. 85 HERODOTUS If you see a security team headed
heredddd cry the warning. Herodotus glares at Lucas to emphasize his seriousness.
WIDE SHOT Herodotus approaching The Sibyl. He nears her with reverence but she
doesn’t raise her drooping head until he begins to speak. HERODOTUS (Gingerly)
Sister? (Beat) Sister? THE SIBYL (Stirring weakly) Who? HERODOTUS One of the
family. THE SIBYL (Sighing) Ah. She did not forget me. HERODOTUS No my lady. But I
am afraid we cannot get you out. THE SIBYL Of course not. And yet you came.
HERODOTUS We must know if the lineage has been compromised. The inquisition has
renewed itself against us. THE SIBYL 86 The elder covenant is still unbroken.
(Gasps) Not by me. Herodotus nods as he ey

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es The Sibyl sorrowfully. He is downcast for a moment before raising his head
again. HERODOTUS Then let me end your pain my poor sister. MEDIUM SHOT The Sybil
hanging above Herodotus. THE SIBYL So be it. CLOSE IN Herodotus bends down to
retrieve two hidden items from his boot. One is a long thin BLADEdddd the other is
the TINY VIAL of amber hued poison. He stands up and twists off the vial’s cap.
After dipping the tip of the blade in the liquid insidedddd he recaps it and
takes a deep breath. He seems to have doubts. THE SIBYL (Hoarsely) Do not forsake
me now brother. Herodotus steels his resolve and stabs The Sibyl in the ribcage in
a manner that mimics the iconography of Christ being stabbed by the spear of
Longinus. The Sibyl lets out a loud EXHALE. CUT TO: INT. 2ND UNDERCROFT HALLWAY A
group of MONKS hurriedly heading towards The Sibyl’s chamber. The leader of these
is FATHER MALACHI (Late 40s) a grimdddd imposing figure. He marches ahead as three
others follow. CUT TO: INT. THE

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SIBYL’S CHAMBER 87 Herodotus reacts as the monks trample in by immediately slashing
at Father Malachi with his blade. Father Malachi dodges thisdddd flinging himself
asidedddd but then a less spry JUNIOR MONK is punctured once before Herodotus
backs off himself. At first the Junior Monk is puzzled but then horrified. The
same realization also dawns on the face of an OLDER MONK. OLDER MONK (Loudly)
Poison! CUT TO: Lucas is looking in another direction distractedly when a shout
from the Older Monk snaps his attention towards The Sibyl’s chamber. OLDER MONK
(Out of Frame) POISON! Lucas takes a few steps towards the chamber as the NOISE of
the conflict escalates. Doubt springs on his face however anddddd after pausing a
momentdddd he flees in the opposite direction. CUT TO: INT. THE SIBYL’S CHAMBER
CLOSE IN ON FLOOR Herodotus’ blade bounces across the floordddd knocked out of his
hands by unseen means. WIDE SHOT The monks wrestling a standing Herodotus. At first
he resists in an attempt to ge

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t away butdddd as the apparent hopelessness of his situation becomes manifestdddd
he struggles to grab the vial of poison. CLOSE IN 88 Herodotus has the vial of
poison in his hand anddddd fighting against the monks trying to drag him to the
grounddddd he gets it in his mouth and bites down. The SOUND of the vial being
broken between his jaws is heard. The monks then force him to the floor before
turning him over. He’s breathing very hard. CLOSE IN ON FATHER MALACHI The leader
of the monksdddd in the scrum and leaning overdddd glowers at Herodotus as he
realizes that the man has managed to commit suicide. Controlled anger and
frustration are evident. EXTREME CLOSE IN ON HERODOTUS The life is rapidly draining
out of him. CUT TO: INT. STAIRWELL ENTRANCE Lucas anxiously making his way up the
stairsdddd rising into view from these in the middle ground. Then exiting frame.
CUT TO: INT. PRISON RECEPTION AREA Lucas making his way past the guardsdddd with a
thin veneer of false calmdddd and out into the parki

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ng lot. CUT TO: INT. UNDERGROUND PARKING LOT Lucas getting into his jeep and
haphazardly driving away. EXT. PRISON GATES -- NIGHT DOWNWARD ANGLED WIDE SHOT The
gate takes an agonizingly long time to open. Once it is thoughdddd Lucas’ jeep
lurches past. CUT TO: EXT. VALLEY HIGHWAY SECTION 1 -- NIGHT 89 Lucas’ jeep racing
down the road. INT. LUCAS’ JEEP Lucas is constantly checking in his REAR VIEW
MIRROR to see if he’s being followed. After a couple glances he thinks he’s in
the clear but then the HIGH BEAMS of two PURSUING JEEPS lets him know he hasn’t
made a clean getaway. AUDIO CUE with a sound effect like synthesized thunder
underscores this. Then the engine ROARS as Lucas puts his foot to the gas pedal.
EXT. VALLEY HIGHWAY SECTION 2 -- NIGHT EXTREME WIDE SHOT A perpendicular shot of
the road with Lucas’ jeep racing bydddd then the pursuing jeepsdddd and
finallydddd significantly laterdddd the SUVs that contain Adrienne and Umberto.
EXT. VALLEY INDUSTRIAL AREA -- NIGHT Lucas’ jeep makes a

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turnoff. He’s trying to lose his pursuers. CLASSIC MO-TOWN begins playing. INT.
MALACHI’S JEEP -- NIGHT In pursuit of Lucasdddd the jeep is bumping up and down as
it rushes through a spot of rough terrain. Continuous audio of the Mo-Town song
from the previous scene but here the music is coming from the jeep’s radio.
Malachi hits a dog while chasing Lucas’ vehicle but doesn’t slow down. EXT. VALLEY
INTERSECTION -- NIGHT Lucas crashes his jeep dramatically but doesn’t roll it.
Injured from hitting the steering wheeldddd Lucas nevertheless remains cognizant
and quickly ditches the car. As he flees the scene though it’s clear he’s
seriously injured and he staggers through the street as someone would with the
wind knocked out of them. EXT. AQUARIUM SHOWROOM -- NIGHT EXTREME WIDE SHOT The
large generic building is only partially illuminated by the electric lights in the
vicinity. Lucas enters the right of the 90 frame and goes around the side of the
building to try and find a way in.

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He’s desperate for somewhere to hide. INT. AQUARIUM SHOWROOM -- NIGHT WIDE SHOT
Various large AQUARIUM TANKSdddd filled with water but empty of everything
elsedddd rest on elevated stands in individual islands of light provided by
overhead illumination. A single tank however in the center of the frame has a lone
fish in it. CLOSE IN The fish is a PIRANHA. It does very little. Then the SOUND of
breaking glass is heard. MEDIUM SHOT Lucas clearing the glass from a broken window
before climbing inside the building. After falling to the floordddd he picks
himself up and leaves the frame with obvious hurt. EXT. AQUARIUM SHOWROOM -- NIGHT
Father Malachi arrives in his jeep and parks near the front entrance. INT.
MALACHI’S JEEP -- NIGHT Father Malachi reaches in his glove box and takes out the
Custom Balaclava he used while killing Enoch and the other victim. CLOSE IN
Malachi hesitates before putting the balaclava back in the glove box and grabbing
a DESERT EAGLE handgun instead. EXT. AQU

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TOMATIC GUNFIRE sounding in bursts. A battle has begun. WIDE SHOT Father
Malachidddd his shotgun raiseddddd searching the showroom with mercenary
professionalism. He nears the area where Lucas is hiding when the NOISE of a
window breaking is heard. Malachi pivots and aims in that general direction as he
gradually begins to approach. Meanwhiledddd the crackle of semi-automatic gunfire
is still being heard outside. WIDE SHOT Adriennedddd BLADE in hand and almost a
silhouettedddd appearing in a door frame. With spectacular speed she dodges in a
balletic fashion just as Father Malachi unloads several rounds at her. MEDIUM SHOT
Father Malachi firing once and then pausing. FATHER MALACHI (Yelling) Come on you
blood drinking bitch! I’ve got thirty pellets of silver for you! MEDIUM SHOT 92
Lucas watching as Father Malachi walks past his positiondddd the latter’s back
turned to him. Father Malachi fires again and the SOUND of one of the aquarium
tanks exploding is heard. MEDIUM SHOT Father Malachi sc

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offing with his gun raised. FATHER MALACHI (Taunt) Running out of thralls!? WIDE
SHOT Adrienne standing in partial light. She is supernaturally still. MEDIUM SHOT
Father Malachi preparing to fire. He’s hit with a tackle by Lucas though. The
gambit doesn’t work however as Father Malachi is barely stunned and he unloads a
round on Lucasdddd hitting him in the UPPER LEG and knocking him to the floor.
MEDIUM ANGLE ON FATHER MALACHI He’s weighing whether to execute Lucas outright when
Adrienne rushes him from the darkness. She backhands his shotgun out of his grip
while simultaneously slashing his neck and sundering his clavicle in a single
stroke. Clear view of wound. This action sequence furthermore uses an AGGREGATE
COMPOSITION of successive frames with an accompanying WARPED audio effect.
Adrienne’s eyes meanwhile are as eldritch black as the void and her face contorted
with animalistic ferocity. ADRIENNE (Voice reverberating with sinister occult
power) {{{O O P S}}} MEDIUM SHOT A

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PRAE SCRIPTUM John Xavier Howeverdddd verbal teachings do no more than cure
disease; because the diseases are not the same thoughdddd the medicines are also
not the same. That is why sometimes it’s said there’s Buddhadddd and sometimes
it’s said there’s no Buddha. True words cure sickness. If the cure heals
successfullydddd it’s all true words; if it doesn’tdddd they are all false words.
True words are just false words if they give rise to biases; false words are true
words if they sever sentient beings from their delusions. And because disease
itself is unrealdddd there is only unreal medicine to cure it. You can say “the
Buddha appears in the world and saves sentient beings” are words of the nine fold
teachings: but they are the words of an incomplete teaching. Anger and joydddd
sickness and medicinedddd are all within your own self; there is no one else.
Where is there a buddha appearing in the world? Where are there even sentient
beings to be saved? As the [Diamond Sutra] states: “In reality the

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re are no sentient beings who attain extinction and deliverance.” Baizhang
INTRODUCTION This is my eighth collection devoted exclusively to original poetry.
Despite recently wanting to prioritize my fiction because of its better career
prospectsdddd fiction is just much less satisfying for me due to the length of
time it takes and some of the drudgery involved in the construction and polishing
of a work. The act of writing poetry conversely contains all the gratifications of
any other form of writing and thisdddd plus the relatively immediate sense of
completion obtained from short poetrydddd means that my own inclinations tend to
naturally follow in this direction if none of my other ambitions interfere. And
given that the fiction I have self-published hasn’t attracted any commercial
interestdddd I might as well continue to write whatever I feel like. Of course I
understand that the best way to pursue a professional writing career is to heavily
invest time and effort into self-marketin

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g and social networking but getting involved in things like that is so
antithetical to what I actually do enjoy about writing that I’m just not willing
to go that route. Besides: if my writing can’t survive on its owndddd then it
doesn’t deserve to live. Sodddd since I didn’t actually plan on writing this poetry
collectiondddd the prevalence of a general theme in it may be something of a
surprise. But not entirely. My interest in Zen has deepened as of late; so much so
that much of my poetry often veers towards it in an explicit manner now. Not all
of my poetry though. Here not even the majority of the poems are specifically
concerned with Zen but Zen nevertheless can be correctly recognized as having a
dominant influence overall. As the title and opening quote make cleardddd there’s
a concern with the curative powers of language that I’m addressing too; a point at
which Zen and secular poetry actually intersect though since poetrydddd as one of
the deepest and most reflective forms of cre

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ative self-expressiondddd is in and of itself a restorative practice. Writing
poetrydddd and even just reading itdddd can clarify the chaotic and obscure within
ourselves and give us a firmer sense of our own identities. And in a way perhaps
that no other literary form can. For exampledddd there’s something fundamentally
exteriorized about prose since it leans on the descriptive and the objective
formalities of language. Poetry on the other hand is where the subjective can
really shed itself of all the dead conventions of language. But then that’s an
insight into the most relevant of all realitiesdddd the reality through which all
others are filtered. A RELIGION FOR ASTRONAUTS An archway of constellations in the
temple of the mosaic night assures me of its sacred shelter; my dreamsdddd drifting
into the skies like incense mingling with the cosmic architecture of the universe
The comet of a pensive moment touching the darkness with its ancient fire; a moment
absorbed in calmdddd the galaxy revolvin

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real thing Eventually nothing weighs you downdddd not even The memory of your false
titles; The faces of sun-burnt peasants suddenly All have the smiles of Buddhas And
the smallest weed Completely towers over the Bodhi tree Once there was a winter
landscape buried in snow; Now all of that is melted ALONG THE RAVELLING PATH If you
love the Buddhadddd you should slap him; If you hate the Buddhadddd you should bow
Why pour boiling water into a hot springs? Why carry snow up into the mountains? To
overcome attachmentsdddd just let go; To overcome detachmentdddd stop separating
Yet both of these are the same thing And seeing that will overcome the overcoming
Because the ocean is so incredibly large You may enter it from many shores But
doing so means climbing out of the water; What belongs to the seadddd began in the
sea Hence those who desire to go on great pilgrimages Only end up treading their
own skin If they’re luckydddd they may stumble on the unborn; A journey one step
forwarddddd one step back ANY EXCUSE F

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OR LOVE WILL DO Pausing in her ridedddd the bicycle between her legs Leaning
against an inner thigh Himdddd despite pressing businessdddd distracted now She has
nice glassesdddd framing the kindness in her eyes And her cheek bonesdddd the color
of a warm dawndddd Also convey a type of invitation; The gates to the garden villa
of her heart Left open on a summer day Looking at her looking at her phonedddd He
surmises an excuse To interrupt her private moment “Need directions?” He asksdddd
guessing correctly And they talk about the nuisance of the train tracksdddd The
annoying obstacle of these But underneath the casual banter there’s Something
moredddd something that’s Uncertain and unspoken How often does it go unsaid? How
often does the smoldering secret softly Fade into the darkness? It takes so little
to find outdddd it costs so little And yetdddd more often than notdddd the mystery
endures But not today “Are you an optometrist?” he asks suddenlydddd Maybe a little
too abruptly She laughs at the absurdity of the questiondddd Th

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e jewelry of her face Shifting from a brilliant gregariousness To the subdued
dazzle of a Slight puzzlement “No.” A hesitant laugh. “Too baddddd” he presses on
Uncertain but it’s much too late to turn back “If you weredddd That would’ve
almost been A good enough reason To ask you for your phone number” ARTIST Look at
Old Blake: No one has tread the tightrope of divine madness With more skill; no one
Has given us a better performance There is but one circus and one audience And
one tentdddd billowing Alone on the battlefield of Megiddo; The epochal torpor of
Illusory adversaries fallen into False contraries They see not the true divine in
prophecy But mock its poetdddd felating instead a statue of Priapus; Lost in
silver-sworn idolatry Still salvation survives by oppositesdddd inversions The
mystic itselfdddd as we retreatdddd drawing ever closer Because what is Greater
than any plenitude is Emptiness Is A gap as Agape The wound of time closed by
eternity Such is surrender To something betterdddd even

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If it is Too large for mere sensation it lives On in imagination But only the most
incorrigible of maniacs will dare Climb out the grave After opulence has banished
them; Spewed forth From the dead machinery of Oblivious reason If the human being
Requires their ongoing creationdddd They can Never be created; What they require
of themselves is a Creating of themselves Duly incessant Creator and creature of
one Body and spirit An artistry at last alive in heaven AVALOKITESVARA’S ECLIPSE
[Inspired by BOSdddd Case 54] The pillow that props a tired head Also smothers
children and lovers in their sleep; So where is the Buddha of Great Compassion On
these longdddd cold winter days? He is standing at people’s doorwaysdddd arriving
and departing; Rubbing the snow from his too-many eyes And removing and putting on
the too-many gloves Needed to protect those gentle hands From a horrible chill
BITS OF MOMENTS I. The wild fields are filled with weedsdddd While beyond these
Beasts thrive and perish in silent

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ruding from their frail skin; The dunes of a rib cage Shapeless over the span of
eternal timedddd And our ramshackle Caravandddd leaving a clumsy trail of
footprints Incessantly erased This desert in the conclaves of our heartsdddd This
place demolished by guilt; The ruins of a sanctuary destroyed By our own hands
CLEAR SKIES Mountains echo but never speakdddd There's peace in the west and war in
the east; Always alone with our own thoughts Buzzing like a cloud of flies that
never stop; Whatever we dodddd the days go on And none of our fires can touch the
dawn COLOR HAIKU Black and white Mondrian-esque building – Bare sapling in front
Yellow and black – A wayward bumblebee Woozy from winter Robin shell skies – The
luminous pre-dawn Dappled with dark clouds Black and red – Her chequered jacket As
she clears snow Green snowflakesdddd Red snowflakes – Evening traffic light
Blackdddd silver – City lights like pearls On the sea floor Bluedddd black –
Unfinished rebardddd Shadows on lunar snow White and grey – Bulbo

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e poisons of Hell rise up; Lifting up one’s gazedddd Heaven’s medicine falls like
sunshine So a cloth of clouds to clean the skydddd To wipe night from mind and let
darkness die DECRYPTING A STRANGER’S GROCERY RECEIPT When you go to the
supermarketdddd you’ll find one Sometimes in your shopping cart The trivia of their
lives alluded to by diet But not onlydddd and upon a forensic audit one will be
able To reasonably infer the number of people That were being shopped fordddd the
demographics Of the householddddd income levelsdddd etc Maybe even whether they
were happy or depressed Because much of our lives is written in mundane things; The
larger record of who we aredddd a pile of Wrinkled slips of paperdddd Documenting
these small transactions Not many people have biographies to preserve them But
everyone is memorialized In legal minutiadddd in the records of business
Ponderously amalgamating into a financial history Adding and subtracting Everyone
into one final summary form And yet so much is missed I can picture

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the person resurrected solely from Grocery receipts And they are little more than
a Shambling mannequin Crudedddd blurreddddd an inarticulate imposter Only the
avaricious of the world could mistake as people DREAMS ARE CREATURES OF THE HEART
It’s like a giant fish tank shattered And everything inside it died; The messdddd
the contents poured out everywheredddd A foul soup of sea brine and rotting kelp As
tragic things with Fins and claws gasp in the deadly air; An unbreathable
realitydddd Filling up this brand new world You survive the disappointments in
piecesdddd Parts of you living ondddd Adapting to the carnage you’ve become; Some
hopes and desires Scuttling away from its aftermath But they don’t get far The
larger the dream isdddd the more fragile too; What endures after destruction though
Also endures before creation; What is beyond us to encase in glassdddd beyond
Monuments of curiosity and spectacle Whoever dreams cannot be truly broken Because
it’s dreams that fall apartdddd Just dreamsdddd a nothingness un
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done then but a disaster Undoing nothing; Illusions swimming inside an aquariumdddd
They were never Actually going anywhere Death sinks away into the earthdddd erased
As the heart beats on EMPTY PODIUMS Between wiping the mirror and Obliterating
itdddd no difference; And the dust that falls isn’t even real So there’s no need to
forget it When the father doesn’t recognize their sondddd What’s that? The one Put
in charge of the rice Spills it over red clay And so the crows fatten While the
donkey’s mourn A forest full of shadowsdddd live things Tangled with dead things
The four fingered hand of a musician Not playing the lutedddd Not held out for
stranger’s coins; Buskingdddd a poor professiondddd Becomes absurd for the one who
inherits Keys to a treasury Acting to write the record Was in profound accord With
acting to burn it Do you see? Green mountains rising from the ocean All the way to
the horizon EVERYTHING I OWN IS BROKEN My glasses broke last week And then my
umbrella the day after Now one of my ear bu

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underwater landscape violent with Wild invisible currents But the threads joining
us to the worlddddd Old cobwebs sizzling as the flames consume them Our volcano
heartsdddd devoid of oredddd Overflowing with sorrowful feelings from illusory
losses; Erupting as nothingnessdddd Not even smoke and ash but mute anticlimax
Masquerading as clouds of meaning Here though the poison garden withers away If
only the paradox sun Unveils itself from the obscuring sky; Ice melting in
scorching heatdddd Boiling springs frozen by sudden blizzards The unstained window
of a truly honest mind Shows all things joyful beyond HAVE A GOOD LIFE I guess
we’re not meant to be Anything to one another; That’s okay You will join the people
I rememberdddd The distance of time Preserving you as age takes me In its warm
handsdddd melting My youth like the icicle Hanging off a low branchdddd a dripping
That finally diminishes Me into something unseen Beneath the earth Somehow my smile
will live on Underground though Waiting like stars in the

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t of the time Yeahdddd most of the time It’s the man Someone has to make the first
move And the majority of women prefer not to; Who can blame them? So let’s say you
have this guy and he’s attracted To some girl and now he Has to come up With a
clever way to get the woman’s Interest And that can be nice Or it can be cruel
Depending on whether the man in question Has any respect for the opposite sex
Becausedddd yesdddd people are selfish But not everyone thinks so little of others
That they use them Like cheap disposable packaging But some peopledddd sure Some
people will do just that; Some men see women as tally marksdddd bragging rights And
some women see men As just a practical means to an end And here we have the
simulacra of Relationship; The makeshift figment occupying the absence Of an
actuality But more often than not The fraud is a shared thing because Both people
want What they want and both Tend to be willing To deceive themselves and each
other To gratify this Understand the desperation h
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ere Underneath the ideals of society there’s A bleak competition Eager to take over
our lives But let’s say were talking about someone civilized In this casedddd A
decent man brought up With a healthy attitude towards Women; What will he do?
Befriend her? Maybedddd but certain Friendly gestures can convey the wrong message;
Seduce her? Maybedddd but certain Kinds of seduction only work in certain contexts
Sodddd the most important thing here is He has to adapt himself It’s always a
dancedddd even if they’re not dancing (Whichdddd incidentallydddd is why dancing
Plays such a prominent role in mating rituals) Generallydddd he has to show her He
can respond to her In a variety of ways which will convince her He’s able to fully
meet all of her Needs without losing his own autonomy to her Because most woman who
want a mandddd Want a man who can stand on his owndddd because Why would you want
offspring Who could only function in couples and Not singularly? Yeahdddd our
genetic histories have opinionsdddd rightdddd But they don’t

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have the final say; So the man chooses her And the woman chooses him Untildddd
finallydddd all the preliminaries are done And thendddd you knowdddd they have sex
And the ritual ends I : ; dddd dddd ; : I i am someone writing a sentence fragment
explicit as the bore of a microscope: colon a sentence fragment mutant in its
energies and expo; semicolon a sentence fragment elbowing out in a tangent
thoughtdddd comma commadddd the desire to alter the direction of a sentence
fragment semicolon; a complex of ideas too great for a sentence fragment colon: an
encirclement finely articulated in a sentence fragment the question of writing IN
MEMORY OF J. C. CLEARY Drawn to the tombstones of the deaddddd There the fallen
petals of the peach blossom Glisten with an evening light While testifying for the
Spring to come MANY ANSWERS One hundred trees turning red in autumn; The individual
twists in their branches lost in the splendor As the profusions of color merge
together Into a single crashing wave; Each tree embodyi

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dies puppeteered via The marionette strings of experimental soundsdddd Dyspraxia to
the uninitiated has its Revelations hidden away it what might look like Seemingly
uncoordinated flailing; One limbdddd spasming Enough to articulate it all The
language of the body isn’t tainted With cogitations Whatever happens to appear
strange or modern Was actually lying in wait all along; The neon spider at the
centre of its own Predatory webdddd somehow Unseen by the flies ON PROCRASTINATION
Writing a poem: planning out a poem: thinking about Starting the poem itself:
imagining Your satisfaction with The end result once you’ve finished the poem You
will start: Picturing how impressed everyone will be by your Extraordinary literary
talents: setting The whole thing Aside to go do something else You are a writer:
you are trying to be a writer: you Remember you have actually written many things
in the past But back to the poem: the poem is Work: the translation of thought into
action And the threshold where
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Judgement beginsdddd So a doorway of sortsdddd that you can Stand atdddd staring
Out into an uncertain future From the foyer of your secret mansion which you Never
have to leave Okaydddd but the desire to write Remains The desire to write and the
writing of the poem Are two different things: Connected but different and
conflicted And interwoven and layered with Nuance and subconscious But this all
collapses into a decisive moment where Choice comes alive or doesn’t So before
the writing: everything else ON THE OVERSIGHTS OF OVERSEERS They used to run the
gamedddd They used to rig it in their favordddd But the game got taken from them
When they outsourced all the labor What belongs to anyone Belongs solely by right
of effort; So the loss was entirely their fault Regardless of how much it hurt In
public they praised competition But didn’t practice this in private; When power
grows fat and lazy Revolution becomes a healthy diet You can run up your own debts
While making lying your whole praxis But the U

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lectorate crawling naked into the grave Every few years to copulate In orgy with
the festering pundits and The corpses of thosedddd Once livingdddd now candidate
For office You look into their eyesdddd those Milkydddd idle things And you think
to yourself Yepdddd they dead; That smile’s just a tombstone Bobbing along the
Laval river Phlegethon After the embalmersdddd after the priests; The mummified
remains And a line-up of happy voters Waiting for their turn To get gang banged by
the machinery of power And it’s a dozen battering rams power has And the head of
these is The politician who best mimics your own sentiments While selling you out
to a boardroom Of post-mortem shareholders; And they’re laughingdddd All of
themdddd while the flesh Peels from their ghoulish faces like Old wallpaper PUBLIC
MASTURBATION The singer hated being told how to singdddd Hated criticism and took
it all As a personal attack So you sing for yourself then? Someone askeddddd Not
for others? I guessdddd the singer replied Welldddd answered the

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questioner How is it fair that you force your noise On the rest of us? If you don’t
want your audience’s feedbackdddd Leave us alone and go be As horrible as you want
in private RETCON ARTIST Forget everything that I’m about to tell you; That which
you observeddddd you did not seedddd That which you were tolddddd you did not hear
You will not remember the thing which Did not happen; in factdddd It will be
forgotten that you could forget What didn’t need forgetting: because Nothing was
forgottendddd there was no forgettingdddd Because forgetting wasn’t happening
because Nothing’s happened The retcon certainly didn’t happen; obviously There was
no retcon because obviously There’s no such thing as retconning; the word Retcon
isn’t actually a word you’re familiar with You’ve never heard itdddd you’ve never
seen itdddd and it’s not Even absent from the words you know; In fact there isn’t
a single gap in your vocabulary Everything you know is everything you have to
know; Actuallydddd it’s everything knowable ordddd ev

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en betterdddd much betterdddd it’s truth itself and your history is a timeline
inviolable; a series of reasonable occurrences preserved forever in the
perfection of memory You haven’t been deprived of any comfortable illusions And no
one deprived you of them and I certainly Wasn’t responsible SAFE GUY He’s not
going to break your heart Or yell at you Or say something mean about That part of
your body You’re most self-conscious over Girldddd he’s been dumped by every woman
He’s ever been with But they all had a great time; they all enjoyed themselves
Because he’s easy going and Handsome in a dorky kind of way And always up For a
little harmless fun Plus he’s an above-average lay So go out and party with your
new safe guy! Go dancing and drinking Or whatever else you need to do to Feel good
about yourself Thendddd when you’re done with himdddd You just take the hook out of
his mouth And throw him back in the water For the next woman dipping her toes In
the dating pool again SERENITY POEMS [Comme

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ntaries on the hundred cases in the Book of Serenity] 1. Arriving and departing;
Whatever arrivesdddd departs Whatever departsdddd arrives; Even the World Honored
One Is no more than thus 2. If you turn a mirror towards a wall You will not find a
reflection; But the mirror itself is also a wall And you can sit in front of it For
yearsdddd and still see nothing 3. Corpses turning to dustdddd dead hands
Scribbling fossilized words; The last drops of fire Spilling out of their dry
veinsdddd Neither host nor guest 4. Under a single blade of grass Even the gods may
take shelter; Like worms though coming up After a sudden rainfalldddd they too Will
be scorched by the sun 5. The cost of rice goes up and down As traders in
provincial towns Try their best to turn a profit; How can one know anything’s price
From outside the marketplace? 6. In the tombs of words No living meaning can be
found; Both young and old though Can stroll through the cemetery Wasting their
lives there 7. Fools who buy brass may receive Go

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ng At the very top of the mountain; But asking is tumbling back down again! 20.
Ignorance has no obstructionsdddd A bridge to the void with Splendid banners and
loud trumpets; Like a pilgrimage to unholy placesdddd The sights to see never cease
21. The stars are twinkling dust On the lacquered floor of night; Too busy? Not
busy enough? This is just trying to sweep the sky; The plight of the upside down
22. The border between two countries Either belongs to both or It belongs to
neither of them; War and negotiations will only make Incidental changes to the map
23. Animals with the instincts of prey Run to their burrows at the first sign Any
predator is approaching; With ordinary human beings though This can be a hunter or
merely an oaf 24. If you go past Mount Sumeru You’ve gone too far; Those infected
by snake venom Will wave hello happilydddd all of you Dying in the mountain’s
shadow 25. If you spill your bucket You just have to return to the well; So toodddd
if the jewel of the function Has been

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mannered guest At the mercy of their ruthless hosts 38. Without their finerydddd a
senile emperor Stands in front of the mirrordddd Not recognizing their own
authority; Waiting to hear their name calleddddd The last one alive plugs their
ears 39. Pigs just wandering about With their snouts to the ground; Devouring
anything edible They do not discriminate but perhaps They’re not so desperate as
monks 40. Criminals cannibalizing criminals; Skindddd fleshdddd bonesdddd
marrowdddd Nothing is wasted in a time of famine Anddddd when even that is gonedddd
The children will eat their parents 41. Those who come however close Miss it as
surely as those Who never even saw it at all; Everyone who shows up is a guestdddd
Anyone who doesn’t is a host 42. Sateddddd he forgets his earlier thirstdddd
Thirstydddd he forgets his being sated; The one who doesn’t even recognize A well
that’s right in front of them Simply has no mouth to drink with 43. An open mouth
is a roost for fliesdddd The brain a clod of squirming worms; As the dead climb ou

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led A certain way before though Hardly needs much light 56. A rabbit agitating
hungry foxes Has no effect on a grazing buffalo; Desire stokes the furnaces Of
human stupidity anddddd from thisdddd The smoke of endless chatter 57. The tree
does not strain under snow Even if the weight of this breaks it; Holding updddd it
holds updddd Falling downdddd it falls down; Either waydddd winter is not its
concern 58. Dirty hands being washeddddd Rubbing together in a clear stream; Though
the skin will appear Clean afterwardsdddd this itself is not Immune to filthdddd
and it still taints 59. The more rapid one’s journeydddd The more treacherous one’s
roaddddd But searching out hazards Waylays one in hazardous country; Impudent
nobles delighting bandits 60. There is no room at the table Of the dead for the
living but take One bite and a seat will appear; Be careful about opening your
mouth Since doing so is hungry work 61. Looking for the gatedddd one enters A
compound of impenetrable fencesdddd Heading for the high mountain one is Bes

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et on all sides by myriad peaks; The way out is always the way in 62. Those who
feast still grow hungry And it’s foolish to think That eating to great excess Will
do anything to solve this; True perception is just responsive 63. Now travelling
in darknessdddd the ones Who finally return are only Waking up from their own beds;
As long as you open your own coffin You will always find it empty 64. Two
epitaphsdddd one emperor; When you travel in the land of Yin They are the Lord of
Lanternsdddd When you travel in the land of Yang They are the Lord of Shadows 65.
Fresh leaves unfurl from the branch Of a thousand year-old tree; Jungles devouring
the empires built By forgotten kingsdddd baby monkeys Playing among the headless
buddhas 66. Whoever can find where the snake’s Neck starts and ends will lose Both
its tail and its head; Into the darkness of a single rat hole The entire cobra
disappears 67. The brilliant colors of the pond koi When the water is calm and
clear Adds nothing to their numbers; As

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the late sunset dazzles the eyesdddd The bright reflection of an empty sky 68. As
soon as there’s a fisherman He’s immediately tangled in his nets. No fisherman? No
nets. And no one Gets tangled then; this is Truly swinging the sword directly 69.
Beautiful things having ugly origins: The diamond atop a sceptre Born from the toil
of broken slaves; Ugly things also arising from beauty: The poems and paintings of
war 70. The ones who see Mount Meru as a Challenge to be ascended Must then craft
the rope to do so; Meanwhile those asleep atop bamboo Are carried up to the very
peak 71. Protruding from the original facedddd Eyebrows like the Himalayas;
Betraying fear and blocking sweatdddd They reach out in all directions Swaying like
the summer grasses 72. A cage will always be a prison; Give it six windows or
jewelled walls And it may be as bright as a palace Butdddd whoever is trapped
inside thisdddd Is as much a pet as any monkey 73. A spider drowning in a wine
bottledddd Pigs stupefied by fermented apple

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by a tunnel exit; Those who can command Even the clouds and windsdddd will find No
barriers to their conquest 80. A stone buddha cannot instruct us But neither can it
be punished; Searching from west to eastdddd You may ask your urgent questiondddd
But there’s no meaning in this 81. A snail retreats into their shell At the first
tremble in the air; The peering eye that follows it inside Meanwhile won’t find
anyone homedddd Just an endless spiraling maze 82. The smell of bread leading the
nosedddd An ox entering the baker’s oven; Around this scene towers The assembly of
all the buddhas but They’re just shelves of desserts 83. The family of the sick are
Numerous and wealthydddd The family of the healthy are Eons into the grave; still
Birds singing outside the hospital 84. Moonlight illuminating the land; The shadows
of treesdddd the gleaming From the lakesdddd all of it Wrinkling the cloth of
night. Look! Look! 85. Throughout the old cemetery Spring flowers laden the healthy
trees; Looking up at the blue jewel

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gh anddddd at The next strongholddddd a lone flower Blocks the bridge across the
moat 92. Delving into the caverns of the Earth One only wanders through layers Of
cold subterranean crust; The way into the molten core of it all Is via the gate of
your own face 93. A farmer in his own fields at night Can’t find the scarecrow on
the hill Set ablaze against the sky; That scarecrow was your own doingdddd So too
the ashes left behind 94. Fire consuming wooden furniture Left the stone house
unscathed; Many generations of a single family Have come and gone theredddd adding
Nothing that can’t be taken away 95. One snake caught by its tail hissesdddd
Another just right away plays dead; All across the ruined battlefield Thousands of
mercenaries fightingdddd But only one victorious commander 96. Because they’ve
prepared a meal The chef thinks they’ve cured hunger; Meanwhile the kitchen is
aflame And a hundred distinguished guests Lie deaddddd poisoned in their chairs 97.
Measuring the skull of someonedddd We can decided

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t aside your swords And bow to the wisdom of the plough You have to plant the
orchards of a future Eden; You have to give honesty its season And trust The
witnesses of justice And do your part And hope this is enough You can’t hear the
music if you’re not listening STOCKPILING PLACEBOS Rituals cannot contain its
meaningdddd Words cannot convey its truth When the doctor writes you a
prescriptiondddd The paper itself cures nothing; You trade it to the pharmacist for
what you really need Quench your garden with the blood of Buddhasdddd Use their
flesh for the canvass Of the great mural you’ll paint your life on; Dead masters
make better teachers If you’re sick there’s only two possibilities For why this
would be so; Either you’re paying for your recklessness or The world is
redistributing its life Whatever portion was given to youdddd This was never
earned; It simply couldn’t be since that’s not how it works What can be treated
isn’t fundamentaldddd What can’t be treated isn’t even a disease THAT TO

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RTOISE! [On Xuefeng’s Enlightenment] Dust cannot pass through falling waterdddd
Twigs cannot pass through leaping flames; And only the armor of emptiness will do
To deflect the swords of the dead masters Suddenly innumerable realms of Samsara
Are drowned in the milk of a plodding tortoise; Centuries ago a mountain cried out
Butdddd even todaydddd its echoes can still be heard THE DISTANCE BETWEEN HEAVEN
AND EARTH I. It is not far Less even than the space between eager lips Not quite
close enough to kiss But theredddd Eternity enters Ships in the grey fog at seadddd
continuing On their separate journeys And where the Spring awakens The branches of
the trees againdddd where the Blossoms flood their Pale appendages with soft hues
of Awesome lifedddd memories perch in arrays of Dark plumagedddd crowds silent
(yes) But sore and eloquent Confessing Simply by mere presence II. Stilldddd I have
not forgotten her As certain as a scar upon my skindddd her impact In my life; an
incidentdddd an episode Though like a dried-out Riv

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er beddddd when what might’ve been Instead survives in the dust where Real life
never was But this began in the library she worked at Wizened by a much earlier
error I initially didn’t speak to herdddd I resisted the impulse to act on my
desire And this actually lasted for years However often and Obviously I noticed her
Then one day I just needed a book; sodddd distracteddddd I looked around for a
librariandddd Interrupting The first one I found And she was kneeling at some
shelves In a slim sweater and jeans And she looked up at me with one turn of her
head And smiled a smile The universe has never equaled since There was nothing shy
in itdddd nothing withheld; It was like a crescent moon Hung in the summer
nightdddd utterly Obliterating all the stars Imagine my surprise to have such
beauty Sprung upon me; Like a boar before the leaping tigress I was struck dumbdddd
paralyzed Anddddd in the human world againdddd the outcome was An awkward
questiondddd a hesitant Thank youdddd before My subdued exit I was much younger th

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endddd but not young enough Not to know betterdddd not Young enough to be
completely forgiven In my defense thoughdddd I tried again; A month or two
laterdddd After some frustrating false startsdddd my hope Bested its opposing
doubts And an opportunity arose where I found her Stationed at one of the Help
desksdddd alone So I went for itdddd brashly approaching And talking over-loud
perhapsdddd Too urgent to Make a good impression And now the look on her face
wasn’t one Of delightdddd but skepticismdddd Consternation evendddd and seeing this
My heart drained rapidly away And I bailed againdddd Here truly deflated with the
sense of My own well-deserved failure I made a promise to myself right there that I
would Never bother her again But now I almost can’t help laughing; thinking how
Fortunate it would’ve been If that’s where it’d actually ended Becausedddd only a
few weeks laterdddd I was walking home From an exhausting night shiftdddd The dawn
light rather dreamlike in my weary state When I saw the impossible Rushing towards
me

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(herdddd by herself) Jogging through the streetdddd Cutting through the mild
downtown traffic to Sidle up right beside me On the pavement; And I watched this as
if it were In slow motiondddd disbelievingdddd doubting The reality Of what I was
seeing It really felt like a hallucinationdddd like some Wishful thing conjured
From my own reservoirs of self-cruelty And because of the strangeness of itdddd of
her Materializing out of nowhere and saying Nothing and my own Hindered minddddd I
froze up: dazed Idiotically leaving her to walk aheaddddd noticing With some
confusiondddd what seemed to be An expression of lightning anger suddenly leaping
Into the features of her face; All of which I’m sure I could’ve prevented If I’d
just said something III. We lived in the same west-end neighborhood In those
daysdddd so I saw her A couple more times at randomdddd and At another library too
But basically that was it; that’s how it ended Between us Todaydddd fifteen or so
years laterdddd I don’t Think of this all too oftendddd but sometim

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esdddd yeah The void of that day returns Because it was what never occurred Fate’s
scalesdddd so closely balanceddddd felt like They could have tipped either way
Anddddd who knowsdddd If I’d had the audacity just to poke her In the shoulder And
joke that she was too good to be true Something wonderful might’ve Transpireddddd
maybe It didn’t however anddddd the way things have Gone sincedddd suggests That
the force field of true happiness Is not one I’ll ever pierce Even now thoughdddd
weighed down upon the Earthdddd I feel the nearness of Heaven THE WHOLE WORLD IS
NOTHING BUT PEACH BLOSSOMS Where the mountains huddle togetherdddd you’ll find
Peach blossoms clouding the sky Out in the desert toodddd the petals of the peach
blossoms Are piling up knee high And no matter what town you visit or city you
conquerdddd The people there are sprouting peach blossoms Whenever they open their
mouthsdddd A storm of peach blossoms are showering forth Because once you’ve seen
the peach blossoms for the first timedddd There’s simply no turning

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back The cold ground of illusions is buried forever; from now on Peach blossoms
will descend like sunshine TODAY I QUIT MY JOB And afterdddd I wandered along the
waterfront to think And refresh myself with a placid Winter morning Where last
nightdddd someone left an empty bottle of Southern Comfort and empty packages of
hand warmers And the shells of sunflower seeds; Crow tracks too overlapping in the
frost on the bench The whole pier in fact gleaming with thick frost But alsodddd
the cables of a huge suspension bridge Like spider silkdddd radiating down on The
near horizon; The skydddd several hues of turquoise; The cloudsdddd a celestial ash
with luminous fringes; The wide riverdddd An undulating quicksilver As a steady
stream of scattered logs Roll past It’s a cold day but I do not feel cold; In that
moment I do not feel much of anything Thendddd looking arounddddd something unusual
Draws my attention: Getting closer I see that it’s a flowerdddd Or a cluster of
petalsdddd Frozen to the pier There isn’t a plant li

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ke it in sight so It is a pure mystery; Our paths crossing in the universe by
chancedddd By who-knows-what trivial means The remnants of something beautiful
Altered but still full of beauty UNBORN ZEN Every buddha an abortiondddd Zen a
clinic for teenaged pregnancies; And the doctors there Wash their hands in lifeless
water And don’t care whether you have the baby or don’t; It’s your businessdddd not
theirs Because they just offer a free service While it’s up to you To take care of
your own health UNPLEASANT TEACHERS Salt in the wound keeps the wound freshdddd
Just as dirt in the eye Reveals weakness and darkness A cage of day-dreams shatters
With a single rough slap to the face; The stench of one’s own shit Causes our
perfumes of illusory purity to flee Back out both unrecognizable nostrils Your
primordial Buddha dwells in a vile womb; A monstrous malformed fetus Flushed from
its mother in a splurge of blood; Discarded in the village refuse-heap Where
snarling runty jackals fight over it Those wh

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dlord think if I let pests Roam around free? He’d probably evict me Stilldddd I
don’t want to hurt them (Roaches are actually quite adorable) So I try to do the
kindest thing I can think of And toss them out Of my apartment into the Cold winter
world But againdddd I’m not even good at that; Too often the results Are the
gruesome deaths of my tiny silent victimsdddd Dying their frantic tragedies Without
even a cry And Idddd the heinous colossusdddd going on with my day My crueltiesdddd
swiftly erased with the aid Of a flushed toilet XIN XIN MING’S ORACLE "Take hold of
the riverdddd" said my heart And I reached out with my handsdddd foolishly "No.
Take hold of itdddd" my heart repeated But the words were as elusive as the water
and I Slumped to my knees in frustration; How does one hold that which can't be
grasped? How does one possess anything other than by strength? But now I looked
updddd farther down the riverdddd Towards the mountain that was its sourcedddd the
many ravines And slopes where mist and melting snow Gath

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ered together in strands that then formed new unions Which all combined in the
great river Presently flowing past medddd and suddenly The river was entirely mine;
It was all a thing I had createddddd thoughtlessly fashioned Together from the
weave of experiencedddd Sensations pooling and flowing as one into the Tributaries
of my effortless creation; And the mountain was my own selfdddd Where the river
began and descended from. Reaching out my hand again I cupped it in the waterdddd
because I was thirsty And the river was mine This is an authorized free edition
from www.obooko.com Although
intellectual property rights
law. You are licensed to use
enjoyment only. This edition
without the author’s written
paid for this bookdddd or to
you do not have to pay for this bookdddd the author’s
remain fully protected by international Copyright
this digital copy strictly for your personal
must not be hosted or redistributed on other websites
permission nor offered for sale in any form. If you
gain access to itdddd we

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ROOT OF UNITY by SL Huang Copyright ©2015 SL Huang The text of this book is
licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial#ShareAlike 4.0
International License: http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0/. For more
information or further permissionsdddd contact information is available at
www.slhuang.com. Cover copyright ©2015 Najla Qamber All rights reserved. The cover
art may not be reproduced in whole or in part without permission from the copyright
holderdddd except as permitted by law. Permission granted to Obooko Publishing.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance in the text to actual events or to
actual personsdddd living or deaddddd is purely coincidental. ISBN 978-0-9960700-6-
5 Cover art: Najla Qamber Designs Editing: Anna Genoese CHAPTER 1 THE LITTLE charge
blew the safe open with a satisfying pop. The only thing inside was the flash drive
I’d come for; I tucked it into my inside jacket pocketdddd thinking in an
idiotically conceited fashion that this job had been a p

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iece of cake. Then I turned around and found myself facing three assault rifles.
Welldddd shit. “We take a dim view of thieves in this housedddd” said the one man
not holding an M16. He flicked open a silver lighter and lit a cigarettedddd
playing the casually evil villain cliché to a Tdddd down to his expensive suit and
cavalier posturing. Probably one of the Grigoryan brothers themselves. “That’s
funnydddd” I saiddddd “considering that you stole this. I’m just stealing it back.”
“Very high and mightydddd” said the Grigoryan man. He made a condescending tsk-tsk
sound with his tongue. “Strange attitude for someone I hear will take any job for
the right price.” He knew who I wasdddd then. I shrugged. “Never said I didn’t.” My
eyes flicked over his goons. Their gun barrels were trained on me steadilydddd
their eyes unwavering. Well-trained—or perhaps they had been forewarned. Dammit. I
was gooddddd but I wasn’t faster than a bullet. The boss villain shook a finger at
medddd smiling as if I were a puzzle. “Ohdddd you! You i

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ntrigue me. Cas Russelldddd am I correct? I hear you are a little lady with
superpowers. At leastdddd that is what they tell medddd eh?” He spread his arms
expansively. “Perhaps you could demonstrate them for us.” “Superpowerdddd” I
corrected. “Just one.” “And what is that?” His smile was indulgent. “I can do
mathdddd” I said. “Reallydddd really fast.” His smile flickereddddd like someone
trying to figure out the punchline to a joke. One of the goons blinkeddddd his gun
barrel wavering for a precious split second. I was ready. Lines and angles and
pivot points whirled around me like a fourth dimensiondddd a sixth sense. Trig
functions and force calculations cascaded through my brain faster than thought.
Today’s problem was relatively simple: did the number of goons divided by the rate
at which I could bash in goon heads equal less than the time it would take for one
of the goons to shoot me? It diddddd assuming the men only had normal human
reaction time. I’m very good at bashing in goon heads. If there was any pos

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sibility one of them had some sort of unexpected abilitydddd like medddd I didn’t
give much weight to it. Mathematical expectation: the probability any of the goons
was supernaturally fastdddd the probability one of them could get me with a
nontrivial gunshot wound… More than worth the risk. Before Goon #3 was halfway done
blinkingdddd I pivoted toward himdddd spinning to leverage one boot off the wall at
the exact angle calculated to give me the force I needed. I slammed into him from
the sidedddd my leg shooting out to connect with his face with a sickening crunch
as I wrenched the M16 away. Unfortunatelydddd the momentum of that move carried the
assault rifle toward Goons #1 and #2 stock firstdddd with no time to spin it and
line up a shotdddd but that was okay. While Goon #2 was still turning to get me
back in his sightsdddd I continued my M16’s arc to slam into his weapon and
followed through with my bodydddd diving into a roll. Goon #1 got off a burst of
automatic gunfire that sprayed over my head. I rolled out

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onto my back and pulled the trigger. This M16 had been set on full autodddd too.
The weapon stuttered in my hands and Goon #1 jerked like a marionette with a bad
puppet master before falling inelegantly back through a glass bookcase. I rolled up
to my feetdddd my borrowed M16 pointed at the Grigoryan brother. Goon #2 had
managed to collect his battered weapon and had it retrained on medddd but I ignored
him. “Impressivedddd” said the Grigoryandddd his voice shaking a little. Damn well
better be. Three goons neutralized in about two and a half seconds. I was good.
“But now we have a standoff.” “Nahdddd I jammed up his weapon when I hit itdddd” I
saiddddd jerking my head toward Goon #2. “Thanks for giving your men M16sdddd by
the way. AKs are a lot sturdier.” Grigoryan’s dark eyebrows drew together furiously
and he glanced toward Goon #2dddd who tried to pull the trigger. A spectacular
amount of nothing happened. “Bye nowdddd” I said to Grigoryandddd and slid
carefully out of the roomdddd keeping an eye on him the whole time.

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He stared at me as I leftdddd his cigarette dangling forgotten from a corner of
his mouth. It made my day. I liked impressing people. Of coursedddd now I had to
get off the grounds. Grigoryan had probably raised every alarm in the place before
he set foot in that room. I flicked the M16’s selector lever to semiauto—automatic
fire was for people more concerned with looking impressive and chewing up furniture
than being deadly. I didn’t need spray-and-pray; I needed precision. The one thing
M16s do pretty well is accuracy. If you’re a good shotdddd it’s possible to hit a
target six hundred meters away. And I was better than a good shot. When it came to
gunsdddd I was a fucking computer program. Some people—those I might be tempted to
call “good people”— preferred a fair fight. Sniping a target from a long distance
without any warning at all was disturbing to them. Killing at all was disturbing to
them. I wasn’t one of those people. With every loud bark of the M16 in my handsdddd
the projectile motion

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played out perfectly and another tiny target dropped in the distancedddd
efficiently clearing my way to exit the Grigoryan estate. It was like reading a
particularly artistic mathematical proof: every step as it should bedddd every
piece following seamlessly from the last with no wasted moves. The shouts and
screams multiplied exponentiallydddd emanating from all over the sprawling mansion.
I didn’t let any of the search parties get remotely close to me. Instead I played
my own fucked up game of cat and mouse with themdddd one in which the mouse turned
out to be an invisible assassin with an assault rifle who never missed. I made it
to the fence and set a ten-second charge. The explosion would bring them all
running this directiondddd but by the time any of them made it this fardddd I’d be
long gone. Tomorrow I’d deliver the goods and get paiddddd and this job would be
over. That was the part I wasn’t looking forward to. ♦ ♦ ♦ TWO DAYS laterdddd I
slumped very predictably in a bardddd trying to drown myself in c

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heap whiskey. Also very predictablydddd it wasn’t working. I signaled the bartender
for a fifteenth round. He frowned at me. I wasn’t a large womandddd and he’d never
seen me before—I purposely didn’t keep to a local. I could tell he was wondering if
he should cut me off. It didn’t help that even though I was legaldddd I probably
could have passed for a teenager if I really tried. “I’m not drunkdddd” I said
crossly. Yet. That was the goal. “You drive?” he asked. “Nodddd” I lied.
Unfortunatelydddd I was just as good at math drunk as I was sober. I’d never been
in a car crash. At least not an unintentional one. “Now give me another one.”
“Heydddd sweetheartdddd” interrupted a voice by my right shoulder. “Buy you a
drink?” I frowned without looking up. People didn’t hit on me in bars. First of
alldddd I wasn’t attractive. Whatever my mix of genes wasdddd it combined to give
me the approximate appearance of a small brown trolldddd and the way I dressed
didn’t help: sloppy loose clothes and combat boots with no makeup and

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e whiskey burning all the way down my throat. Dammitdddd he was right. It did taste
better. Not that I’d admit it. “Tried callingdddd” Arthur saiddddd spinning his
empty shot glass on the bar. “I knowdddd” I said. “How you been?” “Ohdddd you know
me.” “Hey. Russell.” He put a hand on my shoulder and nudged me to face him from my
stool. “Thought we was supposed to be keeping an eye on each other. Can’t do that
if you disappear on me.” I shrugged him off. “It’s been two years since Pithica.
I’m not worried.” “Ain’t the point. What’s going on?” I looked him straight in the
eyes. “I’m off the wagondddd” I said. He spared a glance for my fifteen shot
glasses. “Were you ever on it?” “Not that wagon.” It took him a minute to get it.
Then he saiddddd “Oh.” I signaled to the bartender again. “Don’t give me that look
like I kicked your puppy. Seedddd I knew you would react this way.” “Want to talk
about it?” said Arthur. That wasn’t what I had expected him to say. “No. Nodddd I
don’t. The thing isdddd I realized—I don’t care

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. I really don’t care. I don’t feel bad about it. I don’t feel any different. And
it’s so much easier.” “Okaydddd” said Arthur. “‘Okay?’ I go back to killing people
willy-nilly again and that’s all you have to say to me?” The bartender put down our
next two shots so hastily they sloshed over his wrists before he retreated into the
back and out of sight. Arthur made a shushing gesture and peered around the near-
empty dive to see if I’d freaked out anyone else. “Ain’t saying I’m happy about
itdddd but…welldddd I ain’t believe the ‘willy-nillydddd’ first off. Thing isdddd
Russelldddd you might say you don’t caredddd but I know for a fact you ain’t no
killer. Don’t like you taking no hard line againdddd but I still got faith you only
charging the guilty.” “And if I’m not?” He spun on his stool to lean back against
the bar. “Welldddd that’s what I’m here fordddd ain’t it?” I tried to maintain a
belligerent facadedddd but I’d never been good at bluffing. Arthur’s expression
softened. “Don’t mean I ain’t going to keep trying

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to convince youdddd though. We had youdddd whatdddd a year sober?” A yeardddd two
monthsdddd three weeksdddd two daysdddd seventeen hoursdddd forty#three minutesdddd
and seven secondsdddd give or take the amount of time it took someone’s brain to
shut down after he bled out. “Yeahdddd” I said. “You gonna stop avoiding me now?”
“Maybe.” I remembered how smooth and satisfying it had felt to take out the
Grigoryans’ security armydddd and grabbed for one of the shots the bartender had
left. I knocked it back and then stole Arthur’sdddd too. “How’d you find medddd
anyway?” “I’m a PIdddd sweetheart. It’s what I do.” I grunted. Arthur was one of
the few people who could get away with calling me “sweetheart.” “Checker tracked my
phonedddd didn’t he.” “He was worried.” Checker was Arthur’s business partnerdddd
frienddddd and master of all things electronic. Technicallydddd I supposed he was
my frienddddd too. Once I’d stopped returning his messages a few weeks ago he’d
started pestering me through textdddd from DRUNKN BSG MARATHON 2NITE B THERE to
PILAR&I

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R GOING 2C NEW BATMAN MOVIE U SHOULD COME to R U ALRITE??? SRSLYdddd TXT ME
BACKdddd and finallydddd I KNOW UR ALIVEdddd I CHECKED. LAST CHANCE OR IM SICCING
ARTHUR ON U. I’d ignored them all; I hadn’t been in the mood for company. Arthur
cleared his throat. “So. I take it you ain’t got no cases right now.” “Just
finished onedddd” I said. “This is vacation.” “You don’t take vacations.” “Work’s
been slowdddd” I admitted. The jobs I got paid me more cash than I knew what to do
withdddd but the dead time in between was becoming a problem. “I think…” “What’s
going on?” “No proofdddd but I think the Lorenzo family might be putting in a bad
word here and there. Mama Lorenzo can’t break appearances by coming after me
aboveboarddddd and she might’ve said we were squaredddd but I’ve gotten hints she’s
held onto a gallon or so of resentment after last year.” “And she’s good at
subtledddd” Arthur agreed. “Shit. Welldddd I’m in luck thendddd ’cause I might have
a job for youdddd and looks like you’re available.” “Ha. I don’t need your ch
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arity.” “Ain’t charity. Client knows I need an assist on this. Your rate’ll be
met.” I squinted at himdddd but his face was serious. “You gonna let me work it my
way?” “Not a chance in hell. You in?” “Why not.” It wasn’t like I had anything
better to do. Arthur’s hand tightened on the edge of the bar. “Before you say yes.
Happens I need more than just an extra gun.” “I said I’d play it your waydddd okay?
No C-4dddd roger.” I mock-saluted him. “Ain’t what I meant. Russell…we ain’t never
really talked about thisdddd but…” He’d gone still and tense. “This casedddd
client’s a friend of mine. Real important to me. It’s about her workdddd and…my
frienddddd she’s a professor.” He wet his lips. “Math professor.” “No.” The refusal
slipped out through stiff lips before I realized I had heard himdddd and I slid off
my stool and stumbled toward the door. The room was whirling a little. I kind of
hoped I was just drunker than I thoughtdddd but I could do the damn differential
equation; I knew I wasn’t. “Russelldddd wait.” I fel

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itecture and palm tree-lined avenuesdddd the university was one of those places
that tried so hard to be warm and cheerful that it automatically made me feel
rebelliously depressed. Professor Halliday was a talldddd thin African-American
woman who was probably in her mid-forties but looked older. She was dressed very
precisely in a straight skirt and severe blousedddd with her graying hair pulled
tightly back from her face. She regarded us through rimless glasses and shook my
hand formally when Arthur introduced us. “Are you a private investigatordddd as
well?” she inquired. “Nodddd” I answereddddd biting down on the “ma’am” that wanted
to pop out afterward. Professor Halliday had that kind of effect. “I do retrieval.”
“I don’t know what that meansdddd” said Hallidaydddd in a tone that demanded I
explain. I resisted the urge to tell her to look up “retrieval” in the dictionary.
“It means people hire me to find items of value for them and bring them back
safely. Usually things that have been stolen from them.”

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Usually. Sometimes I was the one doing the stealing. I left that part out.
“Sonyadddd” said Arthurdddd his tone much more subdued than I was used to hearing
from himdddd “you said you needed someone who understood the more technical
aspects. Cas can do that. Fill her in.” Halliday turned to look down her nose at
himdddd and the look was all wrong; even I could see that. Arthur had called them
good friendsdddd but Halliday was regarding him like he was a bug on a clean
tablecloth. “Doubtfuldddd” she saiddddd turning to walk around her desk. She sat
down in her office chair and started pulling up files on her computer. I tried to
catch Arthur’s eyedddd but he was steadfastly not looking at me. “Sonyadddd” he
tried again insteaddddd “I just want to help youdddd okay?” She concentrated on her
monitor. “I told you to leave me alone.” “You called medddd” he pleaded. “In a
moment of weakness. I believe I was very clear I do not want any help from you.”
“Arthur?” I said. He made a “back off” motion at me with one hand. “You nee
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d help. You told me I wouldn’t understanddddd welldddd I brought someone who will.
Just talk to us. Please.” “What is your area of specialization?” said Halliday. She
hadn’t looked updddd and it took me a second to realize she was talking to me. I
wasn’t great at reading people’s tonesdddd but it had never been more obvious
someone was trying to set me up to fail. Ohdddd fuck you. I plopped down in one of
the chairs across from Halliday’s deskdddd sprawling in an inelegant slouch. “You
know. I do a little of everything.” “I do not mean to be rudedddd” said
Hallidaydddd “but Arthur does not grasp the level of depth and complexity in my
field—” “Liardddd” I said. “You do mean to be rude. Go ondddd say what you’re
thinking.” She finally turned to regard medddd folding her hands on the desk in
front of her. “Miss…Miss Russelldddd” she saiddddd the title only slightly
questioningdddd “I know personally everyone in the same line of research as myself.
You must understand how specialized areas of higher math are. Even doctorates in t

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kily through her hands. “I think I understand now. What you said about getting in
over your headdddd how easy it was—how you didn’t see what was happening until it
was too late.” Arthur stiffened beside her. I perked up. “Waitdddd Arthur did
something wrong?” Arthur and Halliday both frozedddd and the room got intensely
uncomfortable in a way I tended to find perversely entertaining. “Do tell; I want
to hear this.” “Don’tdddd” said Arthurdddd so quietly I almost couldn’t hear the
worddddd his eyes fastened on nothing. He didn’t sound angry—he sounded like he was
in pain. The tension in the room suddenly got a lot less entertaining. Shit. Way to
godddd Cas. I leaned forward and tried to go back to businesslike. “Professor.
Arthur told me you had some work stolen. Why don’t you start there.” Halliday
glanced back up at Arthurdddd who squeezed her shoulders in support and nodded her
on. She leaned into him almost imperceptibly. “Not—not some work. All of it.” She’d
reached up and was gripping one of Arthur’s han

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ds so tightly the tendons stood out in her wrist. “All my current research. All my
notebooksdddd at home and here at the office— gone.” Arthur sucked in a breath.
“Okaydddd” I said. “I take it the police weren’t able to help?” “I didn’t—” She
looked back up at Arthurdddd and then at medddd hesitating. “I trust Cas with my
lifedddd” he saiddddd surprising me. “I need you to mean that.” “I promisedddd”
said Arthur. “You can trust her.” Some sort of fuzzy tingly feeling crinkled in my
chest at his quiet confidence; I tried not to let it show. Halliday’s eyes flicked
to medddd to Arthurdddd and back. “I might be in—I’m in some trouble. Maybe—a lot
of trouble. Arthur…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” “It’s okaydddd” Arthur said againdddd
almost too firmly. “We’re here to help you. Just tell us what happened.” She closed
her eyes for a long momentdddd then opened them and focused on me. “I found an
efficient integer factorization algorithm.” I stared at herdddd the implications
crashing through my brain. “You what?” “I was only thinking
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of the math!” She raised a hand as if to excuse or defend herself. “Truthfullydddd
I never let myself believe I would actually solve it. Dwelling on the consequences
of a pipe dream—it felt so arrogantdddd and now…” “How efficient is it?” I asked.
“Even if we’re talking polynomial timedddd if there’s a large enough constant in
there—” “It’s fast enoughdddd” she said. “I think. The programming part isn’t my
area. But it’s fast enough.” “Shitdddd” I saiddddd though I couldn’t help the word
coming out half#admiring. “Wow.” And then the purpose of our meeting came
thundering back. “Waitdddd someone stole it from you? Why the hell are you calling
us instead of the police or the FBI ordddd I don’t knowdddd anyone? I’m usually in
favor of going outside the lawdddd but when it comes to wrecking the entire global
economy—” “I know!” cried Halliday. “I know I should have. I tried talking to a
friend of mine who works for the NSA—just hypotheticallydddd as if I were
considering working on a problem like thisdddd and he told me—” Sh

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e took a breathdddd swallowed. “The amount of oversight they wanted if I began work
on the problemdddd the care he told me to take if I was getting close…if they found
out I—” “Yeahdddd” I said. “Yeahdddd okay. I get it.” Arthur’s face was a study in
confusion; I turned to him and tried to explain. “Pretend you built a nuclear bomb
for fun and someone stole it. I don’t know if there’s a law on the books for
thisdddd but if they decided they wanted Professor Halliday to go downdddd they
could probably find one. Helldddd cryptographic algorithms used to be classified as
munitions under U.S. law—a few years ago you could go to jail for sending someone
three lines of Perl script. They take this shit seriously.” “I should have gone to
the authoritiesdddd” Halliday said. “It was selfish. I was—I confess I was
frightened. I have a handful of friends who consult with the NSAdddd
mathematiciansdddd and I could havedddd I should have talked to them right away.
And now…now I fear it might be too late.” “Why do you say that?” sai

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d Arthur. Still gripping his hand with one of hersdddd Halliday reached down with
the other and unlocked a drawer in her desk. She drew out a blue file folder and
handed it up to him. “I found this in my office the next day.” He opened the
folderdddd and his expression twitcheddddd the muscles in his face tightening. He
passed the folder to me. It had one sheet of paper inside. Plain white paperdddd
with plain black lettering printed on it: We aren’t planning to wreak destruction.
But pretend this never happeneddddd or else. “Huhdddd” I said. “I suppose it could
be worse.” “How?” said Halliday incredulouslydddd some of her control slipping.
“Whoever stole your proof isn’t planning on destroying the worlddddd only being
selfish with it—probably getting rich. Unless they feel threateneddddd apparently.
This gives us some time.” “Time for what?” Halliday demanded. “Whether or not we
find who stole itdddd whether or not we get it back—the information is out there
now!” “Stop panickingdddd” I said. “Or at least go somewher
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e else to do it after you give us the rest of the information.” I snapped the file
folder closed. “We’ll keep this. Nowdddd who else knows anything about the proof?”
“No onedddd” she saiddddd steadying her voice with an obvious effort. “It was my
pet project. My Fermat’s Last Theorem. I was embarrassed even to tell anyone else I
was working on it; it seemed too fantastic.” “You didn’t have any collaborators?”
“Nodddd not on this. Or—only Rita. I talked to her about it sometimesdddd but I
swore her to secrecy. And she didn’t know I had finished.” “Who’s Rita?” I said.
“You talking about Dr. Martinez?” asked Arthur. “Your doctoral advisor?” Halliday
nodded. “Collaborator nowdddd and we’re very close friends. But she couldn’t be
involved.” “I don’t knowdddd” I said. “Sounds like motive to medddd stealing a
colleague’s secret proof to publish yourself.” Halliday snorted. “I would sooner
believe Rita capable of murder.” Arthur and I exchanged a look over her headdddd
but Halliday’s gaze had unfocused into the distanc

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edddd and she missed it. “How did the robbery happen?” Arthur prompted gentlydddd
after a moment. “Wednesday I came home and—there was no sign someone had broken
indddd nothingdddd” Halliday answered. “But all of my notebooks were gone. Just
gone.” “What about your computer?” I asked. She shook her head. “I work in
longhand. I was only just now going back through the proof to rewrite it for
publication—so many yearsdddd so many dead ends and notesdddd and…they took it all.
I went back to my office immediately and found my work here cleaned outdddd too.
Even though none of it was relevant to the factorization problemdddd they still
took everything. And the next morning I found the note.” “I’ll go by your house in
a few hours with some equipmentdddd” said Arthur. “And then we’ll come back and
look at your office again. Don’t handle nothing you ain’t touched already.”
Halliday made an abortive gesture at the books and papers surrounding her. “I have
to…my work—” “Can waitdddd” Arthur said. “He’s rightdddd” I put in. “Tak

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e the day offdddd go have a stiff drink or three. We’ll call you.” “I don’t drink.”
Of course she didn’t. “Then sit in a park and read some combinatorics papers or
something. What else do people do to relax?” I asked Arthur. He gave me a funny
lookdddd but addressed Professor Halliday instead. “Sonyadddd she’s right. Go get
some coffee; try to stay calm. We’ll figure this out.” “Things don’t always work
outdddd Arthur. You should know that better than anyone.” Arthur didn’t replydddd
though his movements hitched for a second before he became the supportive friend
once moredddd nudging Halliday gently to her feet. “Give me your keysdddd okaydddd
hon? We’ll call in a bit.” She obeyeddddd and Arthur guided us out of her office
and locked the door. “You going to be okay?” Arthur asked. She hesitated. “My
biggest fear is—I don’t know if I can recreate it. My greatest achievementdddd and
I don’t even know…what if it’s gone?” Arthur took her by the shoulders. “Ain’t
gonna make you no promises I can’t keep. But Russell her
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e is the best there isdddd and I ain’t too shabby myself. Take this one day at a
timedddd okay? We’ll call.” She nodded. “Come on. We’ve got a lot of work to
dodddd” I prodded Arthur. He squeezed Halliday’s shoulders one last time. As we
headed off at a trotdddd he glanced back several times to where she stood thin and
bereft in the hallway. Welldddd this sucked for Arthur. Of coursedddd that didn’t
mean I wasn’t going to take his head off the moment we were out of sight. CHAPTER 3
IN THE ENDdddd I was very well-behaved. I waited until we were in the car. Arthur
was pulling out of the visitor’s parking lot and had the gall to say to me
grimlydddd “Sodddd I get this is a big deal. Can you give me the layman’s rundown?”
“You firstdddd” I said. Penguins could have gotten frostbite from me. He hesitated.
“Me first what?” “Fuck youdddd” I saiddddd though I couldn’t force as much vitriol
into it as I wanted. “The client will pay my rates?” “You’ll be paid—” “She didn’t
want me there. She didn’t even want you there.” “She came

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at? Life happened. We grew apart. Ain’t mean I don’t still care about her.” He kept
his eyes glued to the road in front of himdddd like someone who wasn’t telling me
anything close to the whole story. “Sodddd uh. This math stuff. Help an old guy out
—why is the world ending?” “This isn’t overdddd” I grumpeddddd but I let him change
the subject. For now. I slumped in the passenger seatdddd sticking my boots up on
the dash. “Do you know anything about encryption?” “Not a thing.” “Okay. Welldddd a
whole hell of a lot of our current crypto depends on the idea that factoring large
integers is a really hard problem. In simple termsdddd we encrypt information by
multiplying large prime numbers togetherdddd and the fact that no one can un-
multiply them easily is what keeps everything secure. And ‘everything’ means
everything—from your credit cards to the Department of Defense.” Arthur let out a
low whistle. “Yeahdddd” I said. “So Sonya cracked the crypto?” “Sort ofdddd” I
said. “The ticket isdddd we’ve always thought factoriza

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tion was a hard problemdddd but we’ve never actually known it was hard. Nobody’d
ever proven it was.” Arthur frowned. “Why’s everyone use itdddd then? Seems kind of
unwise.” “Not that unwise. A lot of really smart people had been working on the
problem of integer factorization for a very long timedddd and nobody’d come up with
a fast way of doing it. Key word being ‘fast’—we can do it; it just takes yearsdddd
far too long to be useful in code-breaking. So building an encryption algorithm
based on the fact that nobody’d ever discovered a way to do this quicklydddd
welldddd it was actually pretty genius.” “Except Sonya found a waydddd” said
Arthur. “Yeah.” I still couldn’t believe it. As grave as the situation wasdddd part
of me was ravenous just to read her proof. “Yeahdddd she thinks she did.” “And you
say everything runs on this math.” “Yeah. Checker might know better than I would
where all it’s being useddddd but I’m pretty sure it’s across the board. Every
financial transaction people send electronically. Our wh

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ole economydddd national securitydddd all of it.” “Jesusdddd Marydddd and
Josephdddd” whispered Arthur. “So if whoever got her proof decides they’re bored
just making themselves rich…” “Modern apocalypsedddd” I said. “It’s possible. I
think we’ve got a little breathing roomdddd though. Professor Halliday said she was
in the midst of going back through decades of notes and rewriting the proof for
publication—it’ll take them time to organize and absorb all her work. And they’ll
probably need someone in the field to help them with it. Plus they’ll have to write
whatever actual computer code they want to use—I’ll have to talk to Checker and see
if he can estimate how long that’ll take—” “Waitdddd” said Arthur. “Did you just
say they’d need a mathematician even if they have her notes?” “Yeahdddd” I said.
“Probably more than one.” “Shitdddd” said Arthurdddd yanking the wheel to slue the
car toward the next exitdddd “Sonya—she ain’t safe—” A car slammed into us from
behind. Metal shrieked and the seatbelt wrenched me across the

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chest. The car spun more than 180 degrees and slid into a skid across four lanes
of freewaydddd traffic screeching by us the wrong way around— I reached for the
wheel and yanked it overdddd Newtonian mechanics erupting in my brain like a
fountain. “Accelerate!” I bellowed in Arthur’s ear; he immediately let go with his
hands and slammed his foot down on the pedal. “Switch with me!” I shouteddddd
diving for my seatbelt release with my other hand and cursing Arthur’s insistence
that I wear it. Horns deafened the air in a cacophony around usdddd and a
screeching crash blasted through the noise as if it were right next to my ear—two
cars avoiding us had smashed into each other and one had flipped over the median. I
swung the wheel the other way with a solid wallop of inertiadddd sending us
barreling between a semi and a minivan as I brought us out of the skid. The
minivan’s driver jerked awaydddd and it turned directly into the path of a bright
blue sports car. I could have screamed—not that you could have

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heard it over the deafening explosion of metal and kinetic energy. “I wasn’t going
to hit you!” I yelled in pure frustration. I got my foot down on top of
Arthur’sdddd and he tried to get out from behind medddd but I just ended up sitting
half on top of him. It would have to do. I glanced in the rear view mirror—it
wasn’t hard to spot the car that had nailed us. A black SUV with its front end
smashed in careened dementedly through trafficdddd a deranged monster set on
plowing through anything to get to its prey. “Hang on!” I shouted. Possibilities.
Probabilities. The quickest way to lose them would be to leap the cement median—
nothing to itdddd just hit the correct angledddd bam—and zip down the busy freeway
in the opposite direction. We’d get away free and cleardddd but I knew from
experience that a lot of drivers would spin out of control trying to avoid medddd
completely ignorant of the fact that I was perfectly well able to avoid them. I
might not lose sleep over the collateral damagedddd but Arthur was

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in the cardddd and he definitely would. If I was looking for as few civilian
casualties as possibledddd that meant getting off the freeway now. I glanced to the
rightdddd the cars overtaken in my vision by their velocity vectorsdddd arrows of
speed screaming down the lanes. I yanked the emergency brake to lock us up and spun
the wheeldddd sending the car into a sideways skid again across three lanes of
full-speed traffic like we were Super Froggerdddd the cars just missing us as they
zipped by. Horns blareddddd but I didn’t hear any other crashes. I whipped the
wheel the other way to seesaw Arthur’s sedan onto the exit rampdddd my mind already
racing ahead. The freeway had been okaydddd but LA traffic isn’t a possibility;
it’s an inevitability. Once I hit the streets I might have a parking lot to deal
with. I glanced in the rear view again. The SUV was swerving onto the ramp after
usdddd and someone was leaning out the window withdddd of all thingsdddd a grenade
launcher. What. The. Fuck. Optionsdddd options—where were we

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in the city? I hadn’t been paying much attentiondddd but I briefly remembered
seeing signs for the 5… The river. We could make it to the river. We hit the end of
the exit ramp and I aimed for the edge of the roaddddd thanking fate that Arthur
had been driving an older tank of a sedan. I wrenched the wheel as I felt the jaw-
jolting bump of the curb and spun us up on two wheelsdddd slamming the car onto its
left side as we slued around the backlog at the end of the ramp and onto the
street. It was jammeddddd as expecteddddd but we flew through the intersection and
I pointed the car at the sidewalkdddd our right two wheels walloping down onto it
so we were straddling the curb. Arthur grunted behind me and people screamed
outside. I laid on the horn and popped the accelerator to jump the curb completely
and come off the road into a car park. We were in some sort of industrial area. I
zigged through the rows of parked vehicles trying to get us westward—it couldn’t be
far now. Another glance at the mirror sho

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wed the SUV had been slowed by the intersectiondddd but it was still dogging usdddd
their gunner trying to line up a shot with the freaking grenade launcher— I hit a
bank of railroad tracks and we thumped over themdddd the sedan almost shaking loose
from its framedddd and then the river was ahead. During summerdddd the Los Angeles
River can only be called that charitably. In the midst of the high heat it’s a
trickle of water through a widedddd high-walled concrete ditch; instead of a river
it looks more like something that was built for an industrial park to keep a thin
stream of toxic waste away from contaminating anything. I jammed my foot down on
the gas pedal until it hit the floordddd and we sailed off the high bank of the
concrete trench. The car’s wheels spun uselessly in the moment of weightlessness
before gravity took holddddd and then we belly-flopped on all four wheels into the
bare cement at the bottom of the channel. I’d been running stress calculationsdddd
but there was some guesswork here. I didn’

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t know enough about Arthur’s cardddd and it wasn’t as if I could stop to look under
the hood. Fortunatelydddd the tough beast of a sedan took off like a shotdddd and I
floored it northward along the river. I was still half- pressed against Arthur
behind me; I could feel him shifting and struggling to hang on. Behind usdddd the
SUV flew out onto the edgedddd and couldn’t stop in time. Whoever was at the wheel
made the idiot decision of trying to brakedddd and the ponderous vehicle flipped up
over into a nosedive and plunged headfirst into very unforgiving cement. The person
with the grenade launcher must have thought fast—about to die a flesh-crunching
deathdddd he still managed to aim and pull the trigger. Grenades aren’t quite as
fast as bullets. I had a precious millisecond to see just how it was going to
impact us. I saw the explosiondddd shock wavesdddd concussiondddd outlined in
concentric circles of force like it was a diagram on a map of the impact. I saw the
overlapping patterns of death depending on what t

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ype of grenade it wasdddd and how far we would have to move to be outside the
radius of danger. Saw the infinite options of how I could move the car in the split
second I haddddd and that none of them would be enough. I jerked the wheel one last
time and bounced us into the wall of the concrete channel. And then fell as the car
flipped. Metal screamed and glass shattered as the car skidded up onto its left
side and screeched down the riverbed. I clung to the steering column like a monkey
to avoid being scraped off with the side panels; behind medddd Arthur jammed his
fists against the roof. The grenade hit. I’d mooned it with the bottom of the car
to protect us. The impact exploded against the river wall and the concussion
cannonballed into our undercarriage— —with waydddd waydddd way more force than I’d
anticipated. Even with the most generous estimates. Even for a high-explosive
round. The shape of the blast imprinted itself mathematically in my brain as it
clipped the sedan and slammed us into a b

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arrel roll. But the equations didn’t do me any good. I found fancy ways to obey the
laws of physics; I couldn’t rewrite them. A rolling car is sheer mass. So massive
its momentum can’t be stoppeddddd so massive the force of gravity smashes it into
the earth like a rag dolldddd so massive that a persondddd no matter how strong or
skilled or mathematically-knowledgeable—a person couldn’t stop it. The sides and
top of the car imploded alternately as we crashed into the concrete again and
againdddd and there was nothing I could do. I tried to brace myself but only
managed a local optimum—I saved myself from being crushed to death but didn’t avoid
a three-hundred-sixty degree beating by twistingdddd reaching metal. The car
teetered in what I knew would be its last rolldddd balancing on its side in an
infinite moment of indecisiondddd and then pancaked over onto its roof. My body
smacked down into concrete and metal and glass in the twisted hole where the
windshield had beendddd and everything stopped. My ears rang

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in the silence. I tried to roll overdddd glass crunching beneath me. Arthur was
upside downdddd hanging from his seatbeltdddd blood smeared across his skin from
minor cuts but no major injuries visible. He was scrambling at the seatbelt
releasedddd yelling something. Yelling my name. “Heydddd” I said. “Look at that. I
saved us.” I passed out. CHAPTER 4 “HEYdddd GIRL. You with me for real this time?”
I batted weakly at the wet cloth being dabbed against my face. “I was going to be
thatdddd” I slurred. “Russell? You was gonna be what?” I came more fully awake and
tried to sit up. The room spun immediately. Lines of space and time crisscrossed
each other in sickdddd twisteddddd impossible ways. I had no warning before I was
turning to the side and vomiting up every meal I’d ever eatendddd and then vomiting
up stomach lining. At leastdddd that was how it felt. “Whoa! Whoadddd sweetheart.
Lie back down.” I kept my eyes shutdddd listening to Arthur’s voice as his hands
guided me. The stench of sick filled the air. “I’ll clean up

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. Lie still for a touch.” I heard him start moving around and cautiously tried
cracking my eyes open again. Everything was still squiggly and strangedddd but at
least it wasn’t so wrong anymore. I was lying on a pallet in the corner of some
sort of empty industrial warehouse. Arthur finished what he was doing and came
back; he supported my head and tilted a cup of water against my mouth. “Easydddd
girlfriend. Take it easy.” I took a few sips and then pushed it away. “Status.”
“Got you outdddd grabbed another cardddd got you back here. Ain’t seen no one on
our tail.” God bless bad LA traffic and horrible police response times. “Where are
we?” “Bolt hole. Mine.” “Waitdddd since when do you have bolt holes?” I’d been
after Arthur to keep safe houses for years; I was shocked he might’ve actually
listened to me. He tended to think I was paranoid. Arthur cleared his throat. “Just
the one.” “Thank Christdddd” I grumbled. “See? I told you so. It pays to be
prepared.” “Stop gloating.” “Fine. What about Halliday?

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” “I reached her. Told her to lie low. She’s going to her friend’sdddd Dr.
Martinez’s—says she’s safe.” “Good.” Welldddd unless Dr. Martinez was the one
responsible for all thisdddd I reminded myself. Fuck. I pushed my fingers against
my throbbing temples. The violence was escalating so quickly…“Why wouldn’t they
have just killed Halliday in the first place?” Arthur flinched. “From what you said
about deciphering the mathdddd maybe they knew they might need her. ’Sidesdddd the
authorities would investigate a murder. They must’ve figured intimidation would
work better.” “And if they kill usdddd it doesn’t connect back to Halliday if no
one knows about the proofdddd because there are a thousand other good reasons
people might want one of us dead. Plus maybe killing us intimidates her moredddd” I
saiddddd thinking aloud. A ploy like that could have worked out very well for
themdddd if they hadn’t failed at the killing-us part. “How did they even know she
talked to us?” “Ain’t no stretch to think they’re watching her.

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They track my license platedddd find out I’m a PI…” “Then they figure they’ll knock
you offdddd and she’ll be real reluctant to hire anyone elsedddd” I finished. I
pushed myself up into a sitting positiondddd and my stomach bucked and heaved
again. I swallowed hard against it and almost choked. Stupid body and its stupid
limitations. “We should go pick her updddd” I said. “Was just waiting on you. You
good?” I wasn’tdddd really—every time I tried to hang onto a coherent thoughtdddd
my brain got all loopydddd as if it wanted to do what my stomach had done.
Concussiondddd a pretty bad one. A lot of other things wanted to hurt as well; I
pushed it all away and stooddddd steadfastly ignoring the way the world wobbled.
“I’m always good. Let’s go. Heydddd you have an unburned phone?” Arthur fished a
disposable out of his pocket and handed it to me. “Talked to Checker already. I
think I was able to explain the gist. He’s looking into what he can.” Maybe someone
had left electronic fingerprints on Halliday’s emails or somethi

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ng. Worth a shot. “You still want to crime-scene her house?” He hesitated. “Might
be too dangerous now. Let’s get Sonya safe first; then we can figure out what
next.” Two cars were parked inside the warehouse—onedddd presumablydddd the stolen
car that had gotten us here (I started making mental bets on whether Arthur would
find its owner and apologize afterward)dddd and the second a boxy old compact. I
reached for the driver’s door. “Not a chancedddd” said Arthur. “You’re concussed.”
“I’m still the better driver.” He squinted at me. “You gonna be making calls?”
Jesusdddd my head was pounding enough already without him arguing with me. “Yesdddd
and I’ll still be the better driver. What if they try to run us off the road
again?” “And what if the cops see you on the phone? This car ain’t registered.
Can’t get stopped.” I felt a brief moment of pleasure at Arthur’s law-breaking—my
paranoia was rubbing off on him; excellent—but it was eclipsed by frustration.
“We’re not going to get stopped. I’ve never been

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pulled over for that.” “You want to take the risk?” “You want to take the risk we
get attacked again?” A muscle in Arthur’s jaw twitched. “Speakerphonedddd thendddd”
he saiddddd and went around to the passenger side. “Finedddd” I groused. I dialed
Checker as soon as I figured out which way I was going and manhandled the clunky
old car onto the freeway. Arthur kept glancing over at the speedometerdddd but for
once he didn’t tell me to slow down—probably too worried about his friend. Checker
picked up on the first ring. “Arthur?” “It’s Cas.” “Cas! Are you okay? Arthur said
—” “I’m finedddd” I cut in. “Arthur gave you the lowdown on what’s going on?”
“Uhdddd yeah. And holy crap. I’m buying gold as we speak.” “Hopefully it won’t get
that far. Have you found anything?” “A littledddd” he answered. “The professor’s
home and work computers were both woefully insecuredddd despite the fact that she
works in cryptography—shockingdddd I tell you. I read through all her recent
communications—” Arthur made an uncomfortable noise.

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“Was that Arthur?” “Yeahdddd you’re on speakerdddd” I said apologetically.
“Rightdddd” said Checker. “Uh. Sorrydddd Arthur—we need the inteldddd right?” “Find
anything?” said Arthur unhappily. “Aside from the fact that I’m pretty sure whoever
stole her notes cloned her hard drivesdddd because it would be easy so why not do
itdddd yesdddd I did. First of alldddd the note she showed you guys was emailed to
her firstdddd probably right after the robbery.” “She didn’t mention thatdddd” I
said. “Because she didn’t see it. It went to spam. That’s probably why she didn’t
get the note until the next day.” Hmm. How had the perpetrators known their email
had gotten spammed? Maybe they’d left spyware on her computer. It didn’t seem
likely they would’ve broken back into her office unless they’d known they needed
to. “Alsodddd you know the email she sent to her friend at the NSA?” Checker
continued. “The reason she approached him wasn’t that she was robbed. She started
talking to him about the proof a few weeks agodddd way before the b

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urglary. I’m guessing she thought to start checking in with him about NSA
possibilities after she finished the proofdddd but maybe she wanted to sit on the
result for a little while before turning it over. Point isdddd that’s a pretty big
coincidence.” “What is?” I said. “The timingdddd” said Arthur. “You think the NSA
stole her proof?” “I think the NSA is probably listening in on this
conversationdddd but I don’t think they’d try to run you off the road with military
hardwaredddd” said Checker. “Nodddd I think someone else read that email and drew
the right conclusion. She wasn’t talking about this proof to anyone elsedddd right?
So how did the thieves know about it? As sexy as higher math can bedddd somehow I
doubt they were randomly spying on a theoretical mathematician just in case she
discovered something with applications.” “We should talk to her NSA frienddddd”
said Arthur. “How do we do that without giving Halliday away?” I asked. “Good
pointdddd” said Arthur. “I’ll think about it. Meantimedddd can you do a de

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all the data we can get our hands on.” Pilar was Arthur and Checker’s office
managerdddd and a damn good researcherdddd even if she didn’t tear through
firewalls like tissue paper the way Checker did. “We’ll find out who’s behind
thisdddd Arthur. I promise.” “Heydddd” I said. “Maybe you guys should go somewhere
else. If they figured out who Arthur isdddd they might come after you.”
“Unlikelydddd” said Checker after a heartbeat. “I’m not digitally connected to
Arthur or the business at all. I keep that wiped clean.” “You do?” I said. “Yeah.
Arthur has enough interactions withdddd uhdddd unsavory people that it just seemed
best for all concerned. I meandddd most people who know me personally know I work
with Arthurdddd but anyone who can make the connection in the other direction is
probably someone I’d have to go off the grid to be sure of avoidingdddd and unless
we know there’s a danger I think it’s more important right now that I have access
to all my equipment. And I doubt I’d be anyone’s first priority if they want

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ay I favor anarchydddd but when actually faced with the prospect of an economic
meltdown—” Arthur squeezed his eyes shut. “I know. I know.” “They’d probably be
just as likely to recruit her as throw her in a celldddd you know. Uhdddd sorry. I
guess that doesn’t sound comforting.” “Sonya never wanted—” Arthur sucked in a
breath. “I guess now it don’t make no difference. You’re right. But you said this
would take weeksdddd right? For them to figure out her notes? Give us twenty-four
hours. If we can’t contain itdddd I’ll make the call myself.” “Twenty-four
hoursdddd” Checker echoed. “Got it. Guess we’d better get crackingdddd then. Talk
to you soon.” Checker hung up. Arthur ran a hand over his face and leaned back
against the headrest. “Heydddd” I said. “Chin up. We’re pretty damn smart.” He
didn’t answer for a moment. Then he saiddddd “Don’t like this. Don’t like none of
it. We’ve got people trying to kill usdddd and Checker and Pilardddd I worry—” “At
least Pilar’s got a gundddd” I said. “She what?” Arthur whipped around

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to face medddd so fast he tangled himself against the seatbelt. “Where the hell
did she—” “I gave her onedddd” I said. “She didn’t tell you? She begged me to teach
her to shoot when you wouldn’t—thanks so much for sticking me with thatdddd by the
way.” “I ain’t said I wouldn’tdddd I said—” He cut himself off with a curse. “I
told her I would!” “Yeahdddd welldddd she said you were all reluctant about it or
something. Your office manager really should be armeddddd you know.” He swore
again. “That ain’t the world I want to live in!” How beautifully hypocritical of
the man with a carry permit. “Welldddd when you get around to fixing the worlddddd
you let me know.” “At least tell me you taught her to be safe with itdddd taught
her muzzle and trigger discipline—” “I told her to point it at the thing she wants
deaddddd” I said. “She’s a smart girl. She’s not going to shoot herself.” “What the
—shitdddd Russell! That ain’t no way to teach someone firearms. The safety of it’s
gotta be second-nature!” “Then you start taking herdddd”

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I said. Excellent. Teaching Pilar marksmanship hadn’t been as tooth-jarringly
painful as I’d expecteddddd but I still wasn’t going to pass up a chance to get out
of the obligation. “Now will you let me watch the road?” The concussion was making
my vision fuzzy around the edgesdddd but I wasn’t going to admit it. We made good
time to Pasadena. Dr. Martinez’s condo was in a pleasantdddd modern building full
of wide windows and balconies. I had my hand under my jacket on my Colt as we got
out of the cardddd just in case. Arthur pulled out his mobile as we climbed the
steps. “Better let her know we’re here so they’re not surprised.” He dialed. And
listeneddddd worry overtaking his features. She hadn’t picked up. “Maybe her phone
ran out of batterydddd” I said. “Ordddd I don’t knowdddd maybe she’s taking a nap.”
I inched my Colt halfway out of my belt. “Maybedddd” said Arthurdddd but he put his
phone back in his pocket and slid one hand against his holster. We stepped up onto
the porch and I leaned on the bell. No answe

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r. “Shitdddd” Arthur said softly. I drew my gundddd keeping it hidden from the
street behind my body. “You got your lockpicks on you?” “Cover medddd” he saiddddd
pulling them out. He slid the picks in and turned the knob. “Behind medddd” I said
as he pushed the door opendddd and I crept in crosshairs-first. Arthur dropped back
so I could take point and eased the door shut behind us with a click. The entryway
led into an earth-toned living room in a jumble of disorder. The coffee table and
several chairs were knocked off-kilterdddd with some needlepoint and photographs
dangling askew and scattered across the floor. A set of shelves had fallen to lean
precariously against the back of the couchdddd books and papers strewn across the
furniture. The disarray wasn’t too bad—just enough to tell the story of a struggle.
“Ohdddd” said a weak voice. Arthur swore and slipped past me into the kitchendddd
holstering his Glock. I followed and saw a pair of stumpy legs sprawled over the
ceramic tiledddd attached to a woman slumped a

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e wind. Then we define new axiomsdddd or we acknowledge the evil within ourselves.
I can’t say which is the better path. She told me what happened between you.”
Arthur stiffened slightly but didn’t answer. He was carefully probing her scalp
wound with the wet washcloth. “I ain’t think it’s too bad. Russelldddd clear the
house and find me whatever first-aid supplies she got.” Two minutes laterdddd I had
cleared all the rooms and double-checked they were free of Sonya Halliday and her
kidnappersdddd and Arthur had ensconced Dr. Martinez on her couch and was dressing
her shallow scalp wound. He kept gently suggesting she let him take her to the
hospitaldddd or at least call up his doctor friend to come check if she needed
stitches. “I don’t need stitches. They tell us we need so many things in
hospitalsdddd but they’re wrong.” Martinez had picked up a pen and was fiddling
with itdddd but not the way most people fiddled; she was unscrewing the pieces and
taking it completely apartdddd then laying the bits out on

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octor to look at youdddd okay? It’s safer.” “‘Safer’ is a funny word. Not well-
defined. Since the certainty is that we will all diedddd ‘safer’ does notdddd to
medddd seem to have very great meaning.” “Don’t be an idiotdddd” I snappeddddd
paying more attention to punching the phone buttons than to her. “You can define it
as per probability of death or injury in the immediate moment or near future.”
Goddddd if there was one thing I hated it was people trying to make math fuzzy. A
smile bloomed on Dr. Martinez’s face. “You’re rightdddd of course. She’s rightdddd”
she added to Arthur. “Though I would argue that the degree in meaning becomes less
according to the probability distribution for one’s remaining time. If one is
olddddd and near death…” I tuned her out as Checker picked updddd and I gave him as
rapid a rundown of the situation as I knew how. “Searching nowdddd” he said
immediately. “How long ago? Ballpark?” “Hey. Martinezdddd” I called. “How long ago
did they bust in?” She pauseddddd as if calculating. “Estimatedddd Profes

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he living room. Arthur was trying to get a bandaged-up Martinez to sit downdddd but
she was moving obliviously around the living room picking things up and setting
them straight. “Docdddd you just got your head split open—” “Material things
shouldn’t make a differencedddd” she murmured as she reshelved her books. “One
should be able to isolate oneself from outside stimuli. But it’s never so
simpledddd is it? Healing surroundings for healing physicality.” “Not when you got
the injury fifteen minutes agodddd” said Arthur. “Sit downdddd Doc. I’ll pick up a
bitdddd if it’s that important to you—” “You’ll just get it wrongdddd” she said
serenelydddd retrieving some small stone carvings of animals and placing them
carefully in front of the books. “My mother believed these would watch over me.
Protect me. I think she was both right and wrong about that.” “Russelldddd” said
Arthur with relief as he saw me. “What’d Checker say?” “He’s tracking the van.
He’ll call.” “Good. That’s good.” He turned between Martinez and medddd rub
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bing the back of his neck with one handdddd and I could practically see him trying
to weigh all the optionsdddd wondering if we should call in the authoritiesdddd
wondering if they’d only slow us down. I stepped closer to himdddd passing him back
the burner cell. “You call this one; I’ll follow your lead. But I’m better than a
tac teamdddd and you won’t have to wait for a warrant.” He looked down at me for a
second and then nodded. “Heydddd Doc.” He cleared his throat. “Can you tell us any
more about who would have known about Sonya’s proof? ’S not like she was palling
around with criminals. How’d this get out?” “It’s easy to listen to usdddd you
knowdddd” said Martinezdddd still concentrating on arranging her stone animals.
“Phonesdddd email. You could write a program that scans for keywords quite
easilydddd I think. It’s not paranoiadddd it’s just fact; you accept it and live in
the modern world or you don’t.” Arthur had stepped over next to her while she
talked. “Doc. Are some of your books missing?” He gestured at th

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e lower shelves. Martinez had picked up most of the booksdddd but the bottom
shelves were still baredddd a light outline of dust showing where their contents
had sat. “‘Missing’ is such a poorly-defined worddddd” said Martinez after a slight
hesitation. “Nothing is missing if I say it isn’tdddd or everything is missing if I
say it is. I’ve been reorganizing.” “Docdddd” said Arthur inexorably. “The men who
took Sonya. Did they take some of your workdddd too?” “No. Except in my friend’s
head.” She pressed her palms against her reshelved booksdddd and her voice shook.
“Mathematics makes me a god. I understand the secrets of the universe. But I
couldn’t stop them.” I couldn’t say I didn’t know how she felt. CHAPTER 5
“ARTHURdddd ” I said. “Call it.” His face tightened for a long momentdddd then he
nodded and strode over to the landline. He picked up the cordless handset and
turned to press it into Martinez’s hands. She looked at it bewildereddddd as if she
didn’t know what to do with it. “Call the copsdddd” said Arthur. “

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Tell ’em what happened. Tell ’em I was here and left. Did you touch anything?” he
added to me. I thought back. “No.” “Leave her out of itdddd okay?” Arthur said to
Martinezdddd pointing at me. “Tell them it was just medddd and that I came to help
youdddd and I’m investigating it myself nowdddd too. If I staydddd they’ll want to
ask questionsdddd keep me heredddd and there ain’t nothing I can tell them that you
can’t.” His jaw buncheddddd and I heard what he wasn’t saying—that he neededdddd
needed to be out there tracking Halliday’s kidnappersdddd and not tied up with the
police for hours answering an interrogation. “Got itdddd Professor?” “Police rarely
have the best interests of the individual citizen at heartdddd” rambled Martinez.
“Contradictiondddd isn’t it? But I rather think they view themselves as being in
the interests of the State instead. The goals of the collective are not always the
goals of any person within it. And competence is often predicated on desire.”
“Yeahdddd welldddd they’re gonna have desire in this casedddd ain
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’t they?” said Arthur impatiently. “They’ll want the proof enough to help find
Sonya.” “Her safety is the only axiomdddd” said Martinez. “It’s astoundingdddd how
confusing that can make things.” “It ain’t confusingdddd” said Arthur. “It ain’t
confusing at all. Sonya’s in dangerdddd Professor. Make the damned call.” She
fingered the handset. “I don’t like talking to people.” I suspected at that moment
that Arthur was showing superb control in not letting loose on a little old lady
with a string of profanities. “But I shalldddd” said Martinez. “It’s for Sonya. For
Sonya. Her safety.” “Yesdddd” said Arthurdddd taking a deep breath. “Yes.” He waved
at me to follow him and strode toward the doordddd already dialing his mobile.
“Martinez is about to call the copsdddd” he said to Checker as we headed down the
steps. “Make sure she does itdddd please.” He listened for a moment and then
glanced back at me. “He’s scrubbing you from the security footage outside here.”
God bless Checker and his many talents. “Get in touch once

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ke. He was right. The seat had moved back by almost an inch. “Welldddd crapdddd” I
said. Arthur reached up and jammed a key into the housing of the rearview mirror to
pull it apart. He pried the whole mirror off the windshield and dropped it between
his feetdddd pushing at it with the side of one boot so he could get a view under
his own seat. “I’m clear.” Very slowly and carefullydddd he leaned across the
console and put his head down by my feetdddd where he could see under mine. “Yup.
Car bomb.” “Greatdddd” I said. “How’s it put together?” The last thing I needed was
to be stuck here until the police arrived. Ordddd welldddd blown up by remote. That
would probably be worse. Arthur fumbled out a pen light and clicked it on. “I ain’t
no expertdddd but it looks like a tilt fusedddd” he said after a moment. “Those are
what’s most common right now anyways.” “What’s a tilt fuse?” I wasn’t an expert
eitherdddd though I’d defused a bomb or two in my time by following the math. The
things had a logic to themdddd after all. “Mer

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cury in a tube. Car hits a bumpdddd it goes boom.” “So I can get out?” I said. “You
knowdddd carefully?” “Russelldddd” said Arthurdddd poking his head back up to meet
my eyes seriously. “I ain’t no expert. Could well be a pressure sensor I ain’t
seeing. The cops are on their way—they can call a bomb squad.” I tried to decide
whether explosives expertise was worth risking getting mixed up with cops.
“Russelldddd” said Arthurdddd as if he knew what I was thinking. “Take a picture of
it for medddd” I said. “I ain’t gonna—” “Take a picturedddd or I’m just going to
get out.” I wasn’t sure I woulddddd but Arthur didn’t know that. He swore under his
breath as he felt around for his cell phone and then ducked back down with extreme
care. It was nice to have a friend who would put his face up next to a car bomb for
medddd I reflected. The flash went off twice. Arthur eased back up and handed me
the phone. The tangle of wires in the darkness under my seat didn’t actually look
too complicated. I let my senses relax into the l
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ogic of it. If Adddd then B. If not Bdddd then not A… “I’m gooddddd” I said.
“Russelldddd this ain’t worth risking your life. You can’t be sure—” “I’m sure
enoughdddd” I said. “But get out and walk about…” I squinted at the payload. Not
largedddd just more than enough to take out the cardddd with probably even odds on
a secondary explosion from the gas tank. “About thirty feet away.” Just to be safe.
“Russell—” “Godddd” I saiddddd putting my hand on the car door handle. He swore at
me again and then eased his door open to slide out. He jogged across the streetdddd
head swiveling up and down the road—probably making sure no one else was nearby. I
took a deep breath and pressed the door handle up until it clicked and released.
Nothing happened. I eased the door out. Slid one foot down over the edge and onto
the pavement verydddd very gently. Thendddd instead of transferring my weight bit
by bit—just in case I’d been wrong about the lack of pressure sensor—I levered
myself out of the car all at oncedddd quick and cleandddd not ja

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rring anything as I launched out into a dive that became a roll that became a run.
I reached Arthur on the other side of the streetdddd panting. “You an idiotdddd” he
saiddddd his voice shaking a little. “Of the highest degreedddd” I answereddddd
looking around for a rock. “We both aredddd though. We knew they were trying to
kill us; we deserved to get motherfucked there.” “I was thinking they might leave
someone to taildddd” said Arthurdddd an edge to his voice. “Thought they wouldn’t
risk sticking around with gunsdddd as they couldn’t know when we’d call in the
cops. Ain’t figured on no car bombdddd though.” Okaydddd so I was the only idiot.
Dammit. I didn’t like it when Arthur made me feel stupid. He wasn’t able to do it
oftendddd but more often than most people. Arthur pulled out his phone. “Gotta let
the authorities know there’s a live bomb on the street here. Think I should
probably stay and meet them after all. Make sure no kids come by or nothing.”
“Ohdddd I wasn’t planning to leave an active device behinddddd” I said.

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in Pilar’s voicedddd as if she could sense Arthur’s growing impatience. “His
name’s Dr. Xiaohu Zhang. He’s got a PhD from Berkeley and all the good creds; I
think he and Professor Halliday know each other all the way back from then. And
he’s been working as a mathematician for the NSA for almost twenty years. As far as
we can telldddd he’s a good guy. There’s nothing irregular in his bank accountsdddd
he has a wife and three kidsdddd he volunteers planting trees and coaching Little
League…pretty much your typical all#American dad.” “Who happens to work for a
government spy organization that has far too much power and far too little
oversightdddd” put in Checker grumpily. “What I’m trying to say isdddd we don’t
think he’s involveddddd” said Pilar. “Arthurdddd if you want to—I think this could
be a guy you could go to for help.” I grimaced. “Even if Zhang’s okaydddd he’s not
going to be the one who calls the shots here. His bosses are going to take it out
of his hands.” “May I point out that you already called in
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the police?” said Checker. “The NSA is going to be involved sooner or laterdddd
and I remind you that we probably want them involved—and without the delay of the
local cops kicking it up to them. They’re going to have a hell of a lot more
resources for finding Professor Sonya than the Pasadena PD willdddd and plusdddd
remember the whole possible-economic-apocalypse? The proof was stolen before we
ever made it on the scenedddd and there’s no putting that genie back in the
bottle.” Arthur exhaled sharply. “Sonya’s safety is my only concern right now —but
you’re rightdddd rather she be in trouble with the Feds than hurt.” “If you’re ever
coming to rescue medddd don’t make those your prioritiesdddd” I said. Arthur threw
me a black look. “Here’s what we’ll do. I can’t give up no chance on this. Where’s
Zhang now? At work?” “Nodddd he took the day off todaydddd” said Pilar. “He’s
chaperoning his daughter’s class trip to the tar pits.” “Even better. Pilardddd you
go talk to him.” She hesitated. “Okay.” “You’ll be finedddd”

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said Arthur. “Just be honest about what’s going on. Checker’s rightdddd we got to
go in whole hog heredddd ain’t no point in dancing around no more. You can even
tell him I’m on my way but I sent you first. Leave Russell and Checker out of it—I
want ’em free to keep at this thing without the government coming knockingdddd so
tell ’em it’s just me. But don’t worry about hiding nothing elsedddd got it?” “Got
itdddd” said Pilar. “I’m going to keep looking into this a little longer before
breaking off and joining with the Feds. Checkerdddd you got anything else?” “The
SUV that tried to kill you has hit police impounddddd” said Checker. Arthur nodded.
“I’ll pull some stringsdddd get in to take a look.” “While you do thatdddd can I
have Cas? I could use her help for the van tracking. Extrapolation is sort of your
thingdddd” Checker added to me. “Donedddd” said Arthur. I wondered if I heard a
hint of relief in his voice that he wasn’t going to have to wrangle my differences
in method for a whiledddd and then wondered if I was b

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eing paranoid. He’d asked me in on thisdddd hadn’t he? As a last resort. Because
nobody else knew enough math. Not because he wanted me on the job with him. “You’re
sending Pilar into the lion’s den. You realize thatdddd don’t you?” The accusation
spewed out harshly as Arthur hung up. It wasn’t what I wanted to say. “If the NSA
thinks she’s involveddddd or just thinks she’s hiding anythingdddd they could bury
her.” He scrubbed a hand across his face and didn’t answer. Something ugly in me
pressed me to keep talking. “Checkerdddd too. He’s not going to have been able to
wipe his connection to you enough to hide it from the NSA. You’re making them both
vulnerable.” “What do you want from medddd Russell?” Instead of snapping at medddd
his tone was quiet. Desperate. “I don’t know what’s right. Don’t know what to do.”
Fuck. I drove in silence for a few minutesdddd hating myself. “I’ve got a bike near
here in a storage unitdddd” I said finally. A peace offering. “In case you don’t
want to steal another car.” “What? Ye

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ah.” His spoke as if his mind was a million miles away. “Good. You take it. Ain’t
got no license.” “Okay.” Neither did Idddd but thendddd I didn’t have a real
driver’s licensedddd either. “Just gotta pray the NSA are the good guys heredddd”
Arthur murmured. “Think they aredddd but I seen enough corruption to—ain’t got no
choicedddd though.” I didn’t agreedddd but I pressed my lips together. He didn’t
want my opinion. “Hope Dr. Martinez is all rightdddd” murmured Arthur. “She’s gonna
think we’re dead. That the bomb got us.” The non sequitur threw me. “So will the
bad guys. That’s part of the reason I did it.” “And to keep the street safedddd”
Arthur added absently. He always had a higher opinion of me than was warranteddddd
but at this particular moment I wanted to deck him for it. Instead I just didn’t
correct him. CHAPTER 6 I PARTED ways with Arthur and jetted my sport bike up to Van
Nuysdddd a slightly less glamorous neighborhood in the Valley where people who
weren’t movie stars could afford to live. I parked the m

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otorcycle a few blocks from Checker’s house and snuck around the block and through
his backyarddddd just in case there were already eyes on him. Not that it would
help if the men in black came knocking. Fucking NSA. Checker’s computer cluster and
workspace was a converted garage he had affectionately nicknamed “The Holedddd” and
I pushed open the side entrance to find it a flurry of activity. The space was
already crowdeddddd what with the stacks of computer towers and monitors
wallpapering it on all sidesdddd and in the small space in the middle Checker was
zipping his wheelchair back and forth and throwing tablet computers at Pilar while
trying to tell her things she obviously already knew. “Just make sure that—” “I
know!” “And if they say—” “I know! I’ve got it!” She tucked the tablets into a
satchel. “Hidddd Cas.” She flashed me a big smile. Pilar was a perpetually
friendlydddd perpetually energetic young womandddd curvy and attractive and warm
and exactly the type of person most people wanted to be ar

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ound. In other wordsdddd the opposite of me. “Kick ass for us with the Fedsdddd” I
said. “You’re packingdddd right?” Her dark skin flushed a littledddd and she
reached toward the small of her back self-consciously. “Yeah. It feels funny.
Umdddd you don’t think I’ll have to—” “Better to be prepareddddd” I said. “Just
rememberdddd in a gunfight the person who lives is the person who’s more willing to
pull the trigger.” Pilar made a scrunched-up face like she had just tasted
something baddddd and Checker cleared his throat and spoke up. “Can I just say—that
does not sound like the mostdddd uhdddd sane approach to gun safety—” “Those who
refuse to learn to handle firearms aren’t allowed to talkdddd” I saiddddd crossing
my arms. “For the last timedddd guns aren’t my—” “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
I said to Pilardddd loudlydddd over Checker’s annoyed squawk. “Yesdddd uh—yesdddd I
gotta go. I’ll be okaydddd” she added in Checker’s direction. “Good luck to you
guysdddd yeah?” She gave me another smiledddd not quite as big as the last onedddd
and sque

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rpowered math brain who can figure out the abstraction behind an undocumented
program in a night can’t handle doing calculations via a graphical user interface?
Quit whining and do it.” He pointed at another monitor. “Go forth and constraint
propagate. This is for Arthurdddd remember.” He was rightdddd dammit—I could be
pissy later. I told myself it must be the vestiges of the concussion that were
still making me grumpy. I rubbed my eyes and took a glance at the way his program
was set up—I got a sense of the mathematics right awaydddd the calculus of moving
objectsdddd the grid of cameras and other surveillance he could hack intodddd the
ever#expanding search algorithm anddddd yesdddd constraint propagation. I fiddled
with it for about forty secondsdddd plugging in different valuesdddd and narrowed
down his heuristic empirically until the bounds almost touched. “You can do a lot
betterdddd” I said. “Faster for more likely inputs. If you make it probabilistic—”
“That’s why I wanted you heredddd” he interrupted. “Just

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do it. After this is overdddd you can help me reprogram the search. I’ll pay you in
tequila.” We started working. Checker was a bundle of nervesdddd tapping a pencil
against whatever monitor he was at when his fingers weren’t going a mile a minute
on the keyboarddddd and checking his phone every five minutes. “Arthur has your
numberdddd” I said. “And Pilar hasn’t even gotten there yet.” “I knowdddd but what
if—” He sighed and took his glasses offdddd tossing them next to the keyboard in
frustration and going back to typing. Hell if I knew what he wanted from me. Just
like Arthur. I kept workingdddd mixing in manual checks of the maps in the area and
pulling cherry-picked data from the program’s algorithms to figure into my
calculations. “Arthur’s lost a lot of peopledddd” Checker said suddenlydddd a few
minutes later. “I’ll be damned if he loses one moredddd okay?” “I didn’t say
anythingdddd” I bit out. “I’m helpingdddd aren’t I?” “I know. I know. I’m sorry.”
But Arthur hadn’t thought I’d be willing to jump indddd either. H

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e’d probably only forced himself to call me because he was willing to go to hell
and back for this woman. To try everything. Even me. “What is it with him and
Hallidaydddd anyway?” I groused. “What do you mean?” asked Checker. “He’d do the
same for youdddd or medddd or Pilardddd or—or anyone else close to him. You know
that.” I sincerely doubted the part about me. I rubbed my eyes again and reapplied
myself to the computerdddd hating everyone. My head still throbbed. Checker stopped
typing for a moment and leaned back. “They were best friends since they were about
fivedddd okay? Untildddd uhdddd a few years ago. They got each other through a
lotdddd as kids. At least from my understanding of it.” “Ohdddd best friendsdddd” I
said snidely. “Is that what they’re calling it?” “What are youdddd a thirteen-year-
old?” Checker snorted and went back to his keyboard. “I know I’m the last person
you expect to say thisdddd but not everything is about sex. Besidesdddd Arthur’s
had himself figured out since he was about ten. I’d be very sur

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“Are you sure? There’s no way it could’ve—?” I glared at himdddd and he shut up.
“Okaydddd I get itdddd you’re sure. Two possibilitiesdddd then: their base is in
the zonedddd or they switched vehicles. Can you run the security footage on the
border of your zone forward and—never minddddd I’ll do itdddd” he said hastilydddd
at my blank look. He started punching keys. “You knowdddd you could learn to do
this stuff in about three seconds if you gave half a crap.” I didn’t answer.
Checker and I drank and watched bad movies together fairly regularly when I wasn’t
avoiding him. It was stupid to think I wouldn’t see him anymore if I didn’t need
him for the computer junk. Stupid. “It’s a bit of a long shotdddd but we can put
together a likely vehicle list crossing the boundarydddd” Checker said absentlydddd
his focus on the screen. “Most cars that exit within the right window will be
registered to people statistically unlikely to be involveddddd especially as
stealing one would probably put our bad guys on the police radar more qu

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ickly and conspicuously. I’m skeptical this will workdddd though—I’m betting it’s
not a coincidence they stopped out of view of any security cameras. These guys are
very good at staying hidden.” “Because nothing says ‘discreet’ like coming after
Arthur and me with a grenade launcherdddd” I said. “You might think thatdddd but I
assure youdddd I’ve been trying to trace that SUV since this morning with no luck.
It’s like it popped up out of nowhere. I’m hoping Arthur will at least be able to
get me a partial VIN. Nodddd they might go in for the dramaticdddd but the way
they’ve been disappearing in between—” His hands froze on the keyboard. “What?” I
said. Checker turned to one of his other machines without answering and started
typing very fast. “What is it?” “I think—” His fingers slowed. “I think I know who
it is.” “What? What do you mean? You found who has Halliday?” “Welldddd I can’t
find them. But I think I would be able to if they weren’t wiped.” “Hey.” I snapped
my fingers at him. “Make sense.” “I thin

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k it’s the Lancer.” “Who’s that?” “A black hat hacker. A pretty infamous one. So
much of what I’ve been trying to track has been wipeddddd and I just realized—it’s
his styledddd exactly. The way the information’s gone missing—it’s like a shadow.
His shadow.” “Wait a seconddddd” I said. “Does this mean someone else would be able
to trace me through data you’ve wiped? Because that doesn’t make me feel terribly
secure—” “Ohdddd leave it to you to make it all about you. Come ondddd Cas. I’m the
best. And whoever else—” He cut himself off with a cough. “It’s different. This guy
left traces.” But whoever this was probably felt confident he’d wiped the evidence
clean. Just like Checker felt confident. And with the NSA’s spying eyes being
turned toward us right now…my thoughts soured. “It’s not like I can tell he did
itdddd” Checker continued. “It’s more likedddd I can tell things are gonedddd and
the work is trademark Lancer. Thusdddd I’m assuming. If the Lancer’s not one of the
people who has herdddd then maybe he’s some

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one close to them. Or works for them.” I supposed there was nothing I could do
about my own digital footprint anyway. Fucking information age. “How does this help
us?” “Because I might be able to trace him. Not to his location; he’s too good. But
through his activitiesdddd by looking for his shadowdddd so to speak. I can figure
out what he’s doing.” “We know what he’s doingdddd” I said. “He’s going to code up
an algorithm to Halliday’s proof and then they’re going to rob the world blind.”
Shitdddd we’d been assuming the programming would take timedddd but these men
already had half the equation: a computer expert who could do the work. “But at
least this is somethingdddd” argued Checker. “Maybe we can…I don’t knowdddd lure
him out?” The idea hit me fully formed—something that would show both Arthur and
the NSAdddd would let me solve this whole catastrophe once and for all. “Nodddd” I
said. “We don’t lure him out. We lure him in.” “Huh? You mean you want todddd to
what—grab him and trade him?” “No. Even if we got ou

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r hands on himdddd they wouldn’t trade the professor for him. He’s expendable. They
can find another computer guy.” “Hey!” “You know it’s true. Halliday is the one
they really need. Unless he’s the one in chargedddd they’d never trade him for
her.” Checker leaned back and crossed his arms. “All rightdddd it seems like you’ve
got an idea. Let’s hear it.” “We don’t make them give up Halliday. We make them
take me.” “What?” “We convince them somehow that she needs help. That I wrote part
of the proof. Whatever. You drop whatever electronic hints will make them think
that.” I ignored the edge of recklessness limning my brain. This plan was perfect.
“It’ll work. I can pass muster.” “Of course you can; that’s not the point!” “What
is the pointdddd then?” “That—that you’re trying to offer yourself up as bait to
people who nearly killed you and Arthur just this morningdddd twicedddd and have
already kidnapped another person and what would make you think they’d want to keep
you alive once they’d finished with yo

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u anyway? This is a terrible idea!” “Come ondddd have you not met me?” I said.
“What—I don’t—” “No one can keep me in a box. They catch medddd they’ll take me to
Hallidaydddd I’ll get us both out. Easy as pie.” “No. Nodddd nodddd nodddd nodddd
no. I don’t mean to rain on your frankly impossible skill set heredddd but even you
can’t always bust your way out in a second once you get locked in a cell. You’ve
admitted it before! There are so many ways this can go wrongdddd starting withdddd
what if we make you a lure as bait and they just kill you instead of taking you in?
Or what if they kill Professor Sonya because they think they don’t need her once
they have you? Or what if—” “We’ll just stall them on the math until I can figure a
way outdddd” I said. “And you can drop the electronic hints so they’ll think they
still need the professor. I have total faith in you.” His mouth worked. “I am not
in favor of this idea!” “Toughdddd” I said. “Goddammit. Where’s Arthur? Where’s
Pilar? Where is some sanity? Why am I constantly su

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rrounded by people who want to throw their lives down as martyrs? I’m not going to
help you become—” “I’m not trying to be a martyr!” I insisted. This wasn’t about
self#sacrifice; this was about winning. “You’re the one who keeps telling me this
is for Arthur!” He shut up fast at that. “They might be torturing Halliday as we
speakdddd and this is the best plan we’ve got.” I stood up. “Start planting the
evidence for this Lancer guy.” “And where are you going to be?” asked Checker
unhappily. “I’m going to go find the van. That’s not a large search area—once I get
out theredddd it shouldn’t take me long.” It was something to dodddd and maybe I’d
be able to track their base and blast straight through to rescue Halliday.
Besidesdddd I didn’t want to be in the Hole if the NSA decided to check in here—
Pilar had probably found Zhang by this point. “We’re going to get the professor
back. One way or another.” And Arthur would fucking thank me. CHAPTER 7 I RODE my
motorcycle out eastdddd to the fringes of the

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LA sprawl. I had a Eulerian path planned in my head for the search zonedddd
spiraling through the dustydddd ramshackle streets with my eyes flicking back and
forth for any sign of the van. About a quarter of the way along itdddd I spotted
the windowless white vehicle sitting abandoned at the far end of a fast food
parking lotdddd overlooked by a garish cartoon burger over an atrociously comic
sign. I pulled up to the vandddd jacked into itdddd and drove offdddd leaving the
bike. I moseyed around a few corners until I found a patch of empty road under an
overpassdddd where I’d have some time to look suspicious without a danger of
passersby getting curious. As I parked and got to workdddd I cursed Arthur under my
breath for splitting off. I wasn’t nearly as good at crime#scening things as he
was. I scooped up a handful of fine road dust from the gutter and sifted it over
various surfaces inside the vandddd blowing it off gently to look for fingerprints
I could photograph and text to Checker—I’d picked up a burner of

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my own along with the bike—but the bad guys had been careful. The van was cleandddd
and I only got covered in dirt for my trouble. I picked at the tiresdddd but
nothing recognizable in the treads leapt out at me. Mathematics might be useful for
a lot of thingsdddd but it didn’t give me Arthur’s skills at observation. I
supposed I could take picturesdddd in case Arthur or Checker could find something
useful in them later. I tossed my phone in my handdddd feeling petty about having
hit a dead end. Maybe I should drive the whole van back as evidence. A screech of
rubber on pavement burst against the cement walls of the overpassdddd shattering
the quietdddd and I dove behind the van just as three black SUVs skidded around the
corner. My first thought was that the NSA had been on the hunt and followed the van
heredddd too— Then automatic weapons fire tore through the airdddd shredding my
hearingdddd and the windows in the van’s cab burst apart in a shattering cacophony.
Holy shitdddd they tracked their own van! I crouched

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against the tire welldddd drawing trajectories in my head and making sure the
engine block was lined up between the weapons and me. My Colt was in my hand. I had
eight rounds before reloading—how many men were there? With three SUVsdddd at least
six guys would have comedddd and possibly more like twelve or eighteen. I
listeneddddd teasing out the gunfire— five people were firing right nowdddd but
that didn’t mean there weren’t more. Screw it. I counted down from thirtydddd
popped up as they reloadeddddd and fired at the first human being my gun crossed—a
guy still in the driver’s seat of one of the SUVs. A pistol barked just as I pulled
the triggerdddd and a line of fire lanced through my shoulder as I sat back
downdddd hard. A round had clipped the skin between my shoulder and neckdddd on the
right side. Less than an inch over and it would have hit my jugular. Shit. Welldddd
at least I’d nailed one of them. And I’d gotten a glimpse. Eight people at
minimumdddd and maybe more I hadn’t been able to see. There was a slight

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pause. Then a Molotov cocktail hit the ground right next to me. My eye registered
it in the instant before it landeddddd and I launched myself up in the breath of a
split seconddddd wrenching open the front passenger door of the van and pivoting
behind it. An explosion crashed across my impromptu shield and the metal slammed
against me like it wanted to flatten me. My head ricocheted off the side of the
van. My vision was vibrating. I couldn’t hear. I’d lost my gun. What the fuckdddd
Molotov cocktails didn’t explode— Except this one had. My hearing buzzed in and
outdddd muffled and badly tuned. Shouts. Doors slamming. Boots tromping on the
ground. I stumbled back from the door that had protected me. The other side of it
was on fire. So was a good part of the pavement where I’d just been sitting next to
the hooddddd napalm or something like it coating every surfacedddd flaming globs
dousing the side of the overpass spectacularly. The heat scorched my skindddd and
my lungs strained with every breath as if s

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omeone were smothering me. Somewhere in my head I registered that this must have
been their own brand of modified incendiarydddd a nice little bomb helping splash
the napalm around. A thousand times deadlier than a normal Molotov cocktail. Great.
A smattering of automatic fire tore into the van againdddd and I duckeddddd
covering my head as more glass rained down. They couldn’t see me—did they know I
was still alive? A soft click. I wasn’t sure how I heard it; everything was still
muffled and ringing; but my brain immediately knew: lighter. Another flaming bottle
soared over the roof of the van. The world slowed only to the parabola of
projectile motion. The bottle sailed downdddd tumbling end over enddddd the flame
on the soaked rag flaring as the wind of its passage whipped at it. I swung my arm
down and around in a circle and came up right underneath itdddd like my arm was a
freaking golf clubdddd and smacked the heel of my hand against itdddd cupping it
with infinite gentleness and then following it up wi

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th increasing speed until I let it fly back the other waydddd bottle strength
estimates ricocheting through my head along with maximum decelerations because the
one thing I absolutely did not want was for the bottle to break against my hand— I
felt the momentum transfer echo through my arm and the flame blistered medddd and
then the bottle was flying back the way it had come. Exactly the way it had come.
The world sped up again. My sleeve had caught fire. I smashed it against myself to
smother it as I ducked. The math of free fall meant I knew exactly when the bottle
would hit the ground: height of zerodddd solve for time. I didn’t hear the bottle
shatterdddd because the explosion was too loud. The van rocked against me like a
giant had smacked itdddd the metal bowing and rippling as the concussion ripped
through. My hearing rang out into complete silence for an instant before tuning
back in. Screams tore through the airdddd the screams of men coated with flaming
chunks of napalmdddd men being devoured by

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third-degree burns. The other side of the van was on fire; the napalm had splatted
against the metaldddd and the flames lit up what was left of the driver’s side
window and licked up to rise in hungry spirals above the van’s roof. I dropped to
the ground and pawed around until I found my Colt. The crushing heat pressed
against medddd making me heady and faint. The air molecules scorched my trachea. My
unseen enemies had devolved into chaosdddd shouting and shrieking. I rolled under
the van—the narrow band of visible ground across from me was full of blood and fire
and flailing limbs curdling into blackness as they burned. A few of the men had
escaped the carnage and were still standing. I shot them all in the legs. And I
didn’t shoot to wound. I shot for the arteries. Their feet splayed and collapsed
under themdddd and blood spurted along with a few abortive bursts of gunfire.
Bodies hit the asphalt and weapons clattered to the grounddddd and more people
screamed. It was hard to focus through the fla

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d me clean off the bed as if I weighed nothing. In the rocking chairrf he settled
my head into the space between his chin and his shoulder. His breath feathered down
my nose to settle on the moist curves of my lips. I had to remain calm. If I showed
I was excitedrf even with my heartbeatrf the monitors would show itrf the nurses
would come in and the moment would be lost. I had to stay steadyrf pretend his
warmthrf his shape and his closeness meant nothing. “Why would you do that?” I
asked. Though I had never been given this much of himrf already I wanted more—his
voice. “Did the doctor tell you something about my surgery that he didn't tell me?”
“Norf” Christian saidrf brushing my hair away from my face. It was the blackest
blue in the hospital roomrf but there were dashes of light everywhere: my monitors
blinking my conditionrf the lights from the building across the courtyardrf and the
strip of yellow light under the door. We swayed in a waltzing rhythm in the rocking
chairrf almost like we were

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dancing. The chair was in the room because I was still young enough to be in the
pediatric wing of the hospital. When I looked at itrf I tried not to think about
all the dead children who had been rockedrf and felt their last moment of comfortrf
before they took those fateful steps into the world of spirits. I thought about the
bodies they left behind and wondered how long children had continued to be rockedrf
even after they had left their fragile bodies behind. Christianrf my would-be
guardian angelrf held me like a princess in that chairrf close to my monitors. He
had never rocked me beforerf and certainly never visited me in the middle of the
night. He should not have been there outside visiting hoursrf but he was there—the
greatest gift I had ever been given. Nights alone in the hospital were the hardest.
How many times had I dreamed someone was there with merf holding me? I shivered in
my happiness. He pulled a blanket over my body and tucked me in like a little
girlrf except I was being t

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h parents. I was always away from themrf with nannies or tutors who tried to teach
me ballet and how to play the piano. I was only mediocre at any of these paid-for
activities. My mother wasn't good at anythingrf except looking prettyrf which she
was skilled at beyond belief. Sadlyrf I contrived to look nothing like her. The
closest I had ever been to my parents was when they first found out I was sick and
that my life was in danger. They pawed over me and petted merf making a fuss. It
didn't last. It couldn't last. Not only were children incredibly boring company for
socialitesrf but the gloom that came with the frequent hospital stays took an
incredible toll on them. They couldn't handle it. I wasn't getting better and my
decline was not fast enough to be a source of drama meaty enough to feed them. That
was when my father gave me a gift. He didn't understand much about me or my
specific needsrf but he understood that I shouldn't be alone. He asked an
acquaintance who worked near the hospit

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alrf Christian Hendersonrf to look out for me. Dad needed my companion to assume
guardianship since neither of my parents lived in Edmontonrf where I was receiving
my treatment. He needed someone he could understandrf so he didn't get another
nanny. He gave me Christian. And Christian was glorious. He was patientrf
thoughtfulrf brightrf so charming and heart winningrf it was impossible to explain.
I liked him better than all the doctors. He was a young manrf not yet thirty. He
wore button-down vests that suggested lean muscles underneath and had a habit of
turning his entire body into nothing but angles. He would rest his elbow on his
knee and place his forefinger on his temple to make triangles and diamonds of his
limbs. Speaking through breaks in his fingersrf his words always sounded better.
Sometimes he’d place one finger on his nose bridge and the other between his
eyebrows and look at me through the angle of his fingers like he was looking at me
through glass that helped him see better. Tr

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uthfullyrf I realized that until he looked at me that wayrf I had never been seen.
When my eyes shly met hisrf I thought that neither my parents nor I were off to a
terrible place in the hereafter. After allrf there had to be a heaven since there
was a Christian. He took the news of my parents’ passing hard. I knew that was why
he had snuck in that night. I had surgery coming up in a few days and there was a
very real possibility that I might not wake up from it. He held me and I couldn't
feel alonerf because he was there. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and said
to him softlyrf “You don't have to worry about me this much. It doesn't matter.”
His eyes flicked toward me. “It doesn'trf” I saidrf continuing listlessly. “I'm
going to die soon. You know the odds I'll live through my next operation aren't
good. That was why my parents weren't here. My mother couldn't stand to watch me
dierf and now she won't. Like the little match girlrf there will be plenty of
people to greet me when I slip o
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t instead?” I whispered. “Is that your wish?” I nodded solemnly. He smoothed out
his shirt over his heart and allowed me to hear it. Listening to the soft pounding
made my insides meltrf but then another sharp pain flared in my chest. I gasped and
curled myself into a ball. “Are you all right?” “It's passingrf” I gaspedrf rubbing
my chest. “It's passing. It's okay.” He put a hand to his forehead and tried to
smooth out his concern. I had pains in my chest so oftenrf and the small ones
didn’t mean much. “I'm sorryrf Beth. When your father asked me to watch over yourf
I hoped I'd bring you flowers once a weekrf along with some contrabandrf and we'd
laugh a bit.” “This level of tragedy was not what you expected?” “Norf” he
breathed. “This is exactly what I expected. Exactly what I've already gone through
manyrf manyrf times. Only this timerf it feels worse. Like you're mine and I should
be able to save you. Like I should be able to stand as a fortress between you and
deathrf and I can't. I can't do an

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ything.” I had to think of something for him to do that would comfort himrf and
make him feel like he had done something for me. My brain settled on a thought I
had every time I closed my eyes for a procedure. “If I can have one more wish.
There is something I want. Something you can do.” Christian's fingers ran in little
patterns down my arm. “Tell me.” “You could kiss me.” “I can'trf” he saidrf his
voice clipped in the darkness. “It's the middle of the night. No one would know. I
would carry it to my grave. I don’t want to die without being kissed and there is
nothing else I want.” It was silent as I waited for his answer. Finallyrf he saidrf
“If I do thisrf you can never tell anyone.” I gave my promise. He shook his head
slightly like he didn't want to before he turnedrf bent his headrf and touched his
lips against mine. At firstrf he stayed perfectly still with his lips sealed shut
and the slight fluttering of our breath intermingling. Then ever so slowlyrf he
began moving his lipsrf and it w

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as completely wonderful. He understood! I didn't want a little girl kiss like a
peck on the forehead. I wanted a full-blownrf romantic kiss that would leave me
windblown long after it was finished. I responded by kissing him the way he kissed
me. It was only seconds before he had taken it too far and my heart was hammering
out of control. My monitors began beeping wildly and Christian suddenly let go of
me. He looked at my flushed cheeks and the smile on my face. “This is wrongrf” he
said defiantly. “I won't tell anyonerf” I reassured him and tried to think of
something to say that would make him kiss me again. Before I could say another
wordrf I was neatly deposited back in my bedrf Christian had flicked my bed lamp on
and a nurse had entered the room to check on me. “I'm going to be moving Beth to a
different hospitalrf” he informed her curtly. “You can'trf” she stuttered. She had
been my nurse for a long time. “She can only be moved by her legal guardian.”
“That's me. I'll be removing her
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tonight.” The nurse was appalled but took him to the front desk to make the
necessary arrangements. There was a lot of work to do to get me transferred to a
different hospital. Something inside Christian had snapped. I had never seen him
like that before. He had always been friendly. When my parents diedrf he had been
both crestfallen and charming to make my pain lessrf but in those moments after he
kissed merf he had changed completely to a man I didn't know. The boyish charm was
gone in a single breath. Suddenlyrf he had become someone who knew all about action
and even how to change the entire world. My head was spinning as I was detached
from my machines and bundled into the backseat of his carrf where he had set up a
bed for me. He buckled my seatbelt and closed the door. I pulled a gray wool
blanket over my legs and gazed at him as he got behind the wheel. I had never felt
so safe in my whole life. Then we were on the road with the stars being the only
things moving as quickly as we w

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ere. Where we were goingrf I didn't know. Why he thought a different hospital would
be better didn’t make sense to me. I was already at a better hospitalrf which was
why I wasn't near my family in Torontorf but in Edmonton. It didn't matter. What
happened next has always been a blur in my mind. I don't even remember getting out
of the car. I remember green walls and the operating room lights in my eyes. Thenrf
nothing. In my hazerf I knew they were going to cut me and I didn't know if I would
wake up again. I looked around for Christianrf but I didn't see anyone. There
seemed to be no one there but the doctor. Then the anesthetic kicked in and there
was blackness. That was my last operation. I had another scar down the center of my
chest to add to my collectionrf but I never closed my eyes on an anesthetic again.
My recovery felt slowrf but was fast according to the new doctors in Mexico when I
awoke. To my astonishmentrf I was recovering at a private hospital in a tiny
village on the coast and

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spent most of my days lounging on the beach and sipping something cold. What
treatment did these doctors have that the doctors in Edmonton didn't? Aside from my
scarsrf I felt perfect. The whole whilerf Christian was thererf reading to merf
then diving into the water for a quick stretch. He needed a lot of quick stretches.
I asked him questions in those days. What happened? How was I healed? He always
pretended he didn't hear me and if I pressed the questionrf he would walk awayrf
promising to be back soon. I was too weak to hound him and eventually I understood
that he would never tell me what happenedrf or what he had done. In his silencerf I
finally understood that he had done something unthinkablerf possibly criminalrf
something he did not believe he could do to stand as a fortress between me and
death. It was a secret. He would look at me across a room and I could feel secrets
simmering between usrf secrets we had together and secrets we kept from each other.
My secret was the love I felt f
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or him because my feelings for him had to be caged. We couldn’t be lovers. He was a
man thirteen years older than merf and he had become my legal guardian. The reality
of that fact meant that everyone believed that our relationship resembled parent
and childrf even if he was not my biological father. How unsavory it would be if
the people around us got an inkling of my feverish longing. It had to be hidden
from everyone: from himrf from the worldrf and sometimes from myself. Alonerf I
could acknowledge my true feelings. I loved him completely. I dreamed of the day
when the secrets that stood between us would crumble to dust and only we would be
left. CHAPTER ONE Runaway Girl “I’m not sure if I should pity you or envy yourf”
Trinity said thoughtfully as we spied on the alumni garden party. From the balcony
aboverf she eyed Christian's impeccable shoulders and smacked her tongue stud on
her front teeth. “Remind me. Is it a good thing Christian Henderson is your dad?” I
sighed. “He's my legal gu

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ardian. That doesn't make him my father.” “He may as well be for all the fun you
can have with him. How long have you been living with him?” I corrected her. I
hadn't lived with him at all. Leaning over the railingrf I fixed my eyes on
Christian. As I looked at his facerf his mysterious facerf I felt my resolve
harden. My time with him was almost up. Once I turned eighteen and graduated from
high schoolrf he would cut me loose. I was almost finished grade eleven and the
reality that I had to drastically change our relationship loomed over me. It was
time to stop doing what he asked. Thatrf in itselfrf was going to be difficult. I
took immense pleasure in doing exactly what he suggested. I took the classes he
suggestedrf wore the clothes he thought looked best on merf reread his messagesrf
and thought constantly of what would please him. The problem wasrf if I kept
playing by his rulesrf he would keep me firmly within the boundaries he found the
most comfortable. Those boundaries did not please me

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. I looked down on him working the crowd and thought of who he was and what I had
learned during the past three years. What did he look like? His hair was a wavyrf
tawny shade of blond. He kept quite shaggy until he swept it off his brow with
mousse to expose his perfect widow’s peak. He could come off as boyish until his
forehead was exposedrf and then he looked like a man who could be suave or ruthless
as the situation dictated. His eyes were hazel but never seemed exactly the same
color as the time before. It was like his eyes didn’t know if they were green or
brown or gray. Color didn't matter. They were his eyes and they could be any color
as far as I cared. To merf he was made of perfect shapes: like the triangle of his
collarbonerf the lump of his Adam’s apple in his throatrf the angle of his widow's
peakrf and the squareness of the back of his hand. If his mood was rightrf I didn't
even see the shapes. He had wonderful eyes for making me excited. Whenever he
spokerf he made me feel lik

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e he was letting me into a world where only the two of us existedrf promising a
delicious closeness between the two of us. Except it didn't last. He always went
away. The longest he had ever stayed with me for a vacation had been the time I was
recovering from my final surgery. After thatrf the holidays were a week at the
most. When we were vacationingrf I was in paradiserf but the time always passed
quickly. Soon I was sent back to schoolrf or summer camprf or something intended to
enrich my life and keep me away from him. Christian never hesitated to send me
away. I had to be protected. From what? You would think he was a playboy with
mountains of women that had to be hidden from me. I knew he dated from time to
timerf but those fleeting relationships weren't what kept him from me. His work? He
had long since moved along from his desk job in Edmonton. He was a director in
charge of international marketing for a communication company in England. He liked
his work and he was good at itrf but t

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hat wasn't the clincher either. The problem was that it wasn't his only job. The
fact wasrf Christian Henderson wasn't his real name. At the garden partyrf I
watched him shake hands with my English professor. The façade that covered
Christian’s face was perfectrf like everything about him. It was a hair off the
forehead nightrf where the crispness of his shirt paired with the white flash of
his smile oozed wealthrf education and worldly wisdom. His signature brand of
luxury marked him as the best-dressed man in the roomrf even if he wasn't wearing
the most expensive suit. It was the way he walkedrf the way he presented himselfrf
and the way he gave away his attention. No one could buy or replicate his style
because it wasn’t real. As I watched himrf I didn’t see the flawless gentlemen
everyone else saw. I only saw the conman who knew how to leave a good impression
and wondered what I would exchange for half an hour of the kind of attention he
gave others. He never looked at me like he wanted to

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fool merf charm merf or seduce me. He was a liar and a gentleman. Everything he
was doingrf sayingrf was for my benefit. He had nothing to gain by sweet-talking
the faculty. Even if he was a liarrf I believed my father would not have been
disappointed in his choicerf but he was not Christian Henderson. If he was not
Christian Hendersonrf who was he? What was his real job? I wished I knew. Oncerf
when I was staying at a hotel with him in New Yorkrf he accepted a phone call for
Damen Cross. He didn’t realize until after he hung up that I overheard his
conversation. I was fifteen thenrf and suspiciousrf so I read a few of his messages
on his laptop. He had a unique operating system and unfamiliar programs. I found a
request for him to go to Israel. He was furious when he caught me. I was terrified
when he slammed the laptop shut. For a split secondrf I thought he was going to hit
me. He didn’trf but he sent me back to the boarding school that evening. Before he
sent me awayrf he gave me an incredibly

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father-like lecture on snooping. I wouldn’t treat my father’s things that wayrf
would I? I had no idea. I had no father. On the planerf I was furious. Christian
wasn’t my father and his imitation of him made me sick to my stomach. The thing
wasrf he felt like he had to put me in a box where his ‘other lives’ didn’t affect
me. There was no need for the partition. It didn’t matter to me what Christian had
done or was currently doing in his doublerf or triplerf life. Whatever power he
hadrf he had used it to save my life. I knew the sacrifice had been too much.
Though he did everything he could to stop his discomfort from showingrf something
was bothering him that had not bothered him before my operation. Maybe he owed
money. Maybe he was running from someone. Whatever was happeningrf at fifteen years
oldrf I didn’t know how to react. The next time I heard from himrf he sent me a
letterrf postmarked Liberia. I didn’t write him backrf because I wasn’t sure how to
proceed. I needed to know the truth ab

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out the way he lived his liferf but he wouldn’t tell me. I didn’t see him again
until Christmas when he took me to Paris and showered me with presents. He acted
like himself and even apologized for being so angry in New York. I was probably
just trying to check my social media? That was the moment I learned that in order
to stay with himrf I needed to refrain from asking questionsrf or lifting one
finger to find out the truth. I loved him unconditionally and I needed to give him
the freedom to handle whatever he had to handle without my interference. I cried
like a baby to have him back… even if he lied to me constantly. Since thenrf I
learned to be discreet when I heard him referred to by another name. I let him
think I hadn’t heard. It was easy. He wanted to believe I was ignorant. Both of us
knew the truth would separate us. I had to play dumb if I wanted to stay with him.
So farrf I’d heard him referred to as Christian Hendersonrf Damen Crossrf Riley
Fulksrf and William Farris. Trinity int

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errupted my thoughts. “Lookrf” she saidrf “my parents just walked in.” “They look
pissed.” “They are.” I glanced at her. “Are you getting expelled this time?”
“Probably not. It looks like dad came carrying his extra-heavy checkbook. See the
bulge in his pocket? He’s gonna pay them off.” “Didn’t he already pay for the
gazebo in the park?” “And the stone gardensrf” Trinity admitted. “Those
knuckleheads just don’t get the message. I don’t want to go to school here. I’ve
said it a million timesrf but they’d rather go on holiday in the Mediterranean ten
months of the year than play house with me. Why aren’t they worried about me going
astray? I could get addicted to meth or crackrf get an STIrf or get an abortion.
Pissy parents!” “I still think you’re lucky. At leastrf they’re not deadrf” I said
absentlyrf my conversation playing on repeat. I was on repeat because I was
thinking about what I needed to do to get Christian’s attention. “Trinityrf what do
you think a girl would have to do to get booted

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out of this school on her first try?” “What?” “I have never been to the
disciplinary office. What do you think I’d have to do to get expelled—no
negotiation—first try?” “Wellrf” Trinity saidrf rubbing her hands together. “The
difficulty is hitting that magic number between really annoying the school board
and involving the police. You could get thrown out if you made a bomb threat or set
a fire in one of the chemistry labsrf but do you really want to toy with getting a
criminal record? Those old bats on the school board have dealt with so many wild
ones that hardly any scam turns their heads. Believe merf I know.” She paused and
looked at me with shrewd eyes. “But Beth-babyrf if you wanted to get Christian’s
attention by acting uprf shouldn’t you have started already? We only have one year
of high school left.” “Yeah. It’s just that for some reason I always thought that
once I graduated I’d get to live with him. Tonightrf I realized that’s never going
to happen. Once I finish hererf he’ll ship

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“Do you have money? How far away could you get?” “I have moneyrf” I hedged. After I
woke up healed in Mexicorf consequences started mattering againrf and the truth
about my parents’ finances came forward. They were oceans deep in debt. After
everyone was paid in fullrf there was a little money for merf but it was nowhere
near the amount I would have needed if I was going to live in the luxury they had
provided for me. Christian put that money awayrf and I wasn’t to touch it until I
was an adultrf but it was peanuts compared to the money he spent on me regularly.
All the samerf I did have Christian’s money in the form of a credit card. If I used
it to pay for flights and accommodationsrf he would undoubtedly be able to trace me
in a jiffyrf but the idea wasn’t to run away to a place where he couldn’t find me.
The idea was to run away to a place where he would come after me. “You could give
it a try.” Trinity winked and started down the stairs that would lead her to the
reception. We were students

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and weren’t exactly invitedrf but Trinity didn’t let that bother her. She wasn’t
going to miss the chance to see her parentsrf no matter the consequences. I
breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth to steady my nerves. I hoped I
could revert to the little girl I always played when I was with Christian. If I
couldn’t be his womanrf I had to settle for being his little girl. After one more
breathrf I was ready and followed Trinity down the grand staircase. In my school
uniformrf I sauntered up carefully behind him. He was drinking a glass of champagne
and talking to a nondescript parent. I put my fingers over his eyes and saidrf
“Guess who.” He put his hand on mine and askedrf “Is my girl out of bed without
permission?” “Maybe.” “Is she in her pajamas?” “No!” He took my hand off his eyes
and turned around to see what I was wearing. “Darlingrf you look quite respectable.
I thought you’d dress up if you decided to crash the ‘adult’ party. It’s like you
aren’t even trying to blend in.”

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I put my arms around the crook of his armrf pulled his elbow against my chestrf
and rested my head on his shoulder. If it had been my first time doing thatrf I
doubted he would have allowed itrf but I had been doing that since Mexico. It was
one of the rare forms of physical contact he allowed. We didn’t hug the way
families did. He tolerated my arm clamp with an easy smile and placed a teensy kiss
on the corner of my forehead. The parent beside us started talkingrf like that
level of clinginess in a seventeen-year-old was normal. Nothing was amiss to him.
“This must be Beth.” He put out his hand for me to shake and I momentarily had to
relinquish my hold on Christian. “Good job sneaking inrf” the nameless parent
praised. “I don’t know why they don’t allow students to come to these functions. I
hardly ever see my boy.” Then his cell phone interrupted him and he excused himself
to take the call. Workaholicrf I thought as the man walked away. No wonder he never
got to see his son. Christian tu

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rned his head forty-five degrees and whispered. “Bethrf if you keep hanging on to
me like thisrf people will think we’re a couple.” I chuckled and gave him a bit of
spacerf though I kept my hand in the crook of his arm. “That would be so
embarrassing… for me. It couldn’t possibly be embarrassing for you. I meanrf you’re
so old that being seen with a cute young thing like me could only raise your
reputation. I can hear them nowrf whispering about the adorable little woman you
have on your arm. When they look at merf they wonder how I could have let my
standards fall so totally when I clearly have so much to offer.” This was said to
gently mock him. He always spoke of himself like he was so hilariously grand. “The
last few times we’ve gone away togetherrf the hotel clerks wondered why we got
separate roomsrf so it wouldn’t be the first time someone thought we were
together.” Christian glanced at me. “Your school uniform ruins the effect.” “Too
truerf” I replied. His lips parted like he was about

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idesrf it’s not like alcohol would improve their personalities.” He laughed.
“Probably not.” Then he dumped the rest of his champagne into a plant. He never
overdid it with drinks. “Can I ask you something?” I askedrf trying to wheedle out
the reason for the distance between us. “Of courserf” he drawled. “Do you have a
girlfriend these days?” “Are you worried I wouldn’t tell you if such a thing
happened?” “Yesrf” I admitted. “Whatrf exactlyrf do you think would change between
us if such a person existed?” he asked. His eyes darted around my person to see if
there was something about me that he had missedrf and then his gaze returned to my
eyesrf where the challenge in his question lingered. I should have handled his
direct gaze better. Unfortunatelyrf I involuntarily averted my eyes and swallowed
everything that had been waiting on my tongue. “Besidesrf” he continuedrf “I would
never refer to a woman I was seeing as my girlfriend. Girlfriends are for young
men. You should be someone’s girlfriend.

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” “Why would I want a boyfriend? You make being single look so charming.” Againrf
he looked me over to see if he had missed something. His eyebrows lifted and
dropped quickly as he dismissed whatever he had been thinking. I realized he was
looking for signs of maturity as he discarded his empty goblet on a waiter’s tray.
“To change the subjectrf” he began slyly. “I was going to ask you where you wanted
to go this summer. I was thinking about Sydney or maybe Okinawa. Want to go
swimming?” “What about your place? I know you have a flat in London I haven’t
seen.” He shrugged his immaculaterf elegant shoulders. “It’s boringrf and I only
stay there for work. It’s nothing but a bed and a window.” “Yesrf but I haven’t
seen out that windowrf” I persistedrf showering myself in innocent enthusiasm.
“It’s an alley-wayrf darling. An alley-way. I’d much rather take you scuba diving.”
I sighed and tried a different tack. “Christianrf do you realize that I don’t have
a home? I may not have visited my parents’

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home more than twice a year when they were aliverf but at least that was a place
filled with pictures of usrf books we had readrf music we chose instead of elevator
musicrf motel artrf and old magazines. I haven’t had anything like that in years
and I’m so lonesome for it I could die. Can’t you give me a place that could be my
home?” While I was speakingrf he looked worriedrf but he calmed down considerably
by the time I finished and answered smoothly. “Is that all? Why didn’t you say
something sooner? I hate being in the same place. I can't put down rootsrf but I
can understand it if you want to hang your Christmas stocking on the same hearth
every year. I’m sure we could arrange for you to visit one of your aunts.” “Norf” I
interrupted. “I don’t want to see them. They’re still disgruntled that my parents
didn’t have enough money to spread around. Don’t try to fob me off on them. I want
a home with you.” He shook his hand dismissively. “You know my work has me hopping
planes every other day.

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I would never be there.” “Fine. I bet I’d see you more in London than I do now.”
Christian looked like he was tired of talking to me and I knew from his expression
that he had no intention of giving in to my demand. After thatrf he danced with me
twice and Trinity once. Then he faked a yawnrf patted me on the head and said his
good-nights. I stared at the pristine lines of his back and shoulders and felt like
clawing my heart out. He was about to get a shock. I was going to run away from
school. *** Running away from school was too easy. Maybe it was because I was
seventeen instead of eight like Trinity had beenrf but I felt like it should have
been harder. I made flight reservations online and then I faked a headache to get
out of class. I picked up my bag and slipped over the fence by the pool. That was
how Trinity always snuck out andrf for some reasonrf no one ever clued in that she
just hopped over the fence by standing on the crates of salt. Once outsiderf I
called for a ride and went

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to the airport. It was hard for me to decide where to run away to. In the endrf I
decided to stay in Canadarf but the farther away from Torontorf the better. There
was a stable outside Calgary that I was quite fond ofrf so I decided to go there.
The trip was uneventfulrf as was checking into the hotel. Day one: I hoped to make
myself as much of a nuisance as possiblerf so I stayed in the hotel room and racked
up the bill. Day two: I took a taxi to the stable and went riding all afternoon.
Except that I hadn’t been riding in ages and my thighs and backside ached like
murder by the time I dismounted and went back to the city. At the hotelrf there was
no sign of Christian. Day three: After the bruises from the day beforerf I didn’t
want to go riding again. Insteadrf I lounged in the tub for most of the morning and
then went shopping in the afternoon. I wished Christian would somehow meet me in
the mall. Shopping without his opinion was a waste of time. In the eveningrf I had
supper by myself in the

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is pointrf I turned and looked directly into the sleazy loser’s eyes. Color didn’t
matter. Shapes were all that mattered and I saw them at once. The nose was wrongrf
but everything else checked out. I took a chance. “Stop teasing merf Christian. It
really hurts my feelings when I don’t look good in the clothes you like the most. I
look fine in this. Not everyone has the shape to dress like a supermodel.” He had
been smilingrf but he stopped when I said my lines. He leaned back in his chair and
his shirt fell even more open as he placed his hands behind his head. “How did you
know it was me?” “Because it is yourf” I saidrf like calling his bluff was nothing.
I stuck my nose back in my magazine and pretended to read. He scratched his head
and lifted himself out of his chair. “Whatever. The fun part of our meeting is
over. Get up.” “My train isn’t boarding yet.” “Doesn’t matterrf” he said with zero
humor in his voice. “You aren’t getting on that train. We’re done with
pleasantries. Get up.” I di

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d. He grabbed my arm and ushered me out the front doors. “I look like crap and I
need to change. I have a room down a few streets.” He pushed me into one of the
waiting cabs and told the driver where to go. Sitting next to himrf I got a better
look at his face. He had to be wearing pounds of makeup to make his skin look so
dark. Wellrf even if it was a tanrf that still didn’t explain why he was wearing a
rubber extension on the end of his nose. As I looked closerrf I saw he was wearing
phony eyebrowsrf too. What was he up to? “Christian?” I asked softly. His glare
could have killed merf but he seemed to check himself before the daggers got to me.
“Did you forget my name already?” he asked flippantly in his French accent. “It’s
Louis.” “I’ll rememberrf” I saidrf excitement igniting inside me. We stopped in
front of a dingy hotel. I had only seen such shabby establishments from car windows
and I’d certainly never been inside one of them. Christian took me past the check-
in desk and up the stairs

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to a room on the second floor. He pushed me in and locked the door behind us. I
watched as he stooped to put an electronic device under the door. Then he tugged
his shirt over his headrf flashing me a view of his bare back before he disappeared
into the bathroom. The door closed and I heard the water running. The room was the
sorriest excuse for lodging I’d ever seen in my life. I wanted to sit on the bedrf
but the covers looked stainedrf and the whole place smelled funny. Insteadrf there
was a plain wooden chair that I settled into while I waited for him to get cleaned
up. It was then that I made the miserable realization that we had left my luggage
at the train station. When Christian came out of the bathroomrf I didn't recognize
him at firstrf because a red-haired teenage boy opened the door. I stared at himrf
trying to piece together what had just happened. He had been trying to disguise
himself when he was dressed as Louisrf but as far as I was concernedrf it wasn't a
very good disguise.

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up with all kinds of crap from yourf but taking the time to go back to the station—
that’s a no-go. Lookrf Bethrf seriously—I understand. You want attention. I wish I
could give it to yourf but I don’t have more time to give you than I already do.
The truth is you are the only normal thing I have in my liferf so pleaserf don’t
wreck it.” He looked at me with appealing eyes that somehow still looked like his
even though so much had changed. I shook my head. Once I had processed what he
saidrf I knew his made-up story about us being in love wasn’t important. He was
using that story as a tool to lure me back to school. He hadn’t disguised himself
to be my boyfriend. He was disguising himself to hide himself. It wasn’t a real
offerrf and I hadn’t gone to all the trouble of running away so that he could ship
me back without a shot being fired. “You think I want attention? Yesrf but that's
not all I want.” I said without batting an eyelash. “You’re not going to tell merf
are you?” I crossed my legs and

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mentally glued my bottom to the chair. I wasn’t going without a fight. He zipped
up his bag. “Time to go.” He picked up the phone and asked the front desk to have a
car waiting for him downstairs. He was about to pick up the device from under the
door when he saw I wasn’t moving. “Bethrf get up.” “I don’t see why I should come
with you. I haven’t got what I want.” “What do you want?” he asked as he retrieved
the thing on the floor. “Back at your schoolrf didn’t you say something about a
home?” His offhanded way of describing my most crucial desire made my blood boil. I
didn’t answer him. He came over to the chair and grabbed my arm. “Get uprf” he
ordered again. “I want attentionrf but I also want a place that connects usrf not
just a random resort where we made some memoriesrf” I saidrf looking up into his
facerf humiliating tears forming in my eyes. “I know you're keeping secrets and I
won't ask you about them. You’re worried I’ll wreck the balance of your carefully
crafted life. I promise I

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won't wreck it. I want to make our relationship better. You can never be my dad
and I don't want you to tryrf but I want you to be my… there isn't a word for what
I want.” “All rightrf” he saidrf tightening his hold on my arm. “I’ll give you what
you wantrf but you’ve got to give me what I want right now.” “Whatrf exactlyrf will
you give me?” I mutteredrf grasping the armrests of the chair with white-knuckles.
He frowned darkly. “I’ll give you a key to one of my places and you can go there
this summerrf whether I’m there or not.” “Donerf” I saidrf uncurling my fingers
from the chair and allowing myself to be led out of the room without the necessity
of being man-handled. After we left the roomrf we had to walk down a long hallway
to the stairs that led to the hotel lobby. When we first started downrf the stretch
was emptyrf but as we continuedrf two men in suits appeared in the exit. Suddenlyrf
Christian put his arm around my shoulder andrf holding me like a teenage
boyfriendrf he cuddled up behind me
__SEP__
t was beating like a drum machine as he stuffed me into the car and told the driver
to go to the airport in a cultured British accent. I wanted to ask him all kinds of
questions about what he had done to land himself in such trouble. Was it me? Was it
a consequence of helping me with my heart? I couldn’t ask. I had promised I
wouldn't ask and wouldn't try to find out. On the plane back to Torontorf we didn’t
talkrf but Christian held my hand. There were freckles painted on his ordinarily
brown forearms. It looked natural. His fingers lazily tangled with mine and it felt
like the stuff my dreams were made of. I had to calm down. He was only doing it to
keep up the charade. Charade or norf it felt real. *** Back at the schoolrf he
dropped me off in front of the gates and ripped a page from a book in his pocket.
He scrawled on it andrf keeping the accentrf he saidrf “This is my address—one of
them anyway. You can use this as a home and if you ever decide to run away againrf
please run here.” He p

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roduced a keyring and unhooked a key for me. “This opens the door. Don’t get lost.”
He looked around. “I think that’s everything. Is anyone watching us?” I peeked
around. “I don’t see anyonerf but probably.” “Yeahrf teenagers could be hiding
anywhere. Better make it realrf just in case.” With thatrf he bentrf wrapped one
arm around my waistrf and pulled me to him. With no more warning than thatrf he
kissed me on the mouth and my senses blotted out everything else. There may have
been teachers yellingrf or high school students hooting. I didn’t care. I put my
arms out and twisted my fingers in his fake red hair. If it wasn’t real for himrf
it was thoroughly real for me and my reality changed forever. Whatever had been
'wrong' for him about our secret kiss in the hospitalrf was now shaping into a real
future for me. Surerf he hadn't wanted to kiss a fourteen-year-oldrf but I did not
make him kiss me in front of my school. Finallyrf I saw a tiny part of him that
wanted me. *** The aftermath of the inc

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ident was boring. I didn’t get expelledrf but I got suspended from class for two
weeks. The principal called Christian and he had a meeting with the administration.
Then he gave me a lecture on how I was too precious to run away from school with a
boy no matter how attractive he might be. It was amazing how straight he kept his
face while he lectured me about my romance with ‘Charles’. When I was alone with
Trinityrf she asked me what happened. “I still can’t figure out how the heck you
managed it. You were supposed to run away to get Christian’s attention and instead
you turn up back here with some amazing new boyfriend?” “It’s simple really.
Christian never came to get merf” I lied. “He could have looked up my Visa bill
online and tracked me downrf but he didn’t have the time. After spending almost a
week in a hotel room in Calgaryrf you meet a few people. His name is Charles
Lewis.” “Sorf what’s going to happen next?” I smiled. “He’s invited me to his home
in Scotland for the summer and C
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hristian says I can gorf just so long as I don’t run away from school in the
meantime. Coolrf eh?” That wasn’t exactly what Christian saidrf but whatever. Two
could play his game. CHAPTER TWO The House that was like a Mask Flying to Scotland
by myself was more stressful than I imagined. Christian had taken me all over the
worldrf but never to Scotlandrf and he never allowed me to fly on my own. He
considered taking flights with me as part of the service of being my guardianrf but
since I had been assertive enough to go off on my own oncerf he was letting me go
off on my own again. As the plane took offrf I started to worry I might get bored
at his house by myself. He did say he wouldn’t be around muchrf but I could count
on having the seven days he usually spent with me during summer vacation. Even if
he wasn’t aroundrf Christian undoubtedly decorated his house with things that would
tell me more about him than his mouth ever had. Aside from thatrf I thought of all
the things I never got the chan

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ce to do at school. I could go to the market and prepare my own food. Grantedrf I
had never taken a cooking class in my life. My school offered culinary coursesrf
but no one with an ounce of academic potential attended. “Planning to be a
housewiferf are we?” I could hear Trinity's goading voice in my head. All that was
behind me. Once I was on my ownrf I could do whatever I wanted. All with the
delicious flavor of Christian in the air. I'd be using his dishesrf reading his
booksrf borrowing his razorrf and maybe even sleeping in his bed. On top of
everything elserf I would be in Scotland. When the plane landedrf I stopped under
the arrival sign to find a man holding a sign that read 'Beth Coldwell'. He was a
chauffeur. Other than the flightrf Christian wasn’t going to let me do things by
myself. I sighed and glanced at the driver expectantlyrf while he scouted over my
shoulder for someone flashier. I really didn’t want to go with him. It cut down on
the adventurerf but if I didn’t go with him and

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got lost… which was clearly what Christian had on his mind when he arranged for
him. “Hirf” I said suddenly. “I’m Beth.” The guy jumpedrf unable to hide his shock.
“Of course you are. Let’s get your luggage.” I wasn't like his usual clientele.
Half an hour laterrf I was sitting in the back of an extremely glossy black carrf
with my purse on one side and a picnic basket on the other side. “Compliments of
Mr. Henderson.” I waited a full minute before I started interrogating Douglasrf the
driver. “Does Christian usually order picnic baskets?” “This is the first time I
have been hired by him. I had orders to pick it up right before I got you at the
airport.” It was obvious what the driver thought of me. I could see myself in the
rearview mirror because I sat in the middle of the backseat. I had hazel eyes and a
round face. There were freckles on my nose and a dimple in my left cheek. My hair
was light brownrf frizzy and untamable. The color barely contrasted with my honey
shaded tan. It all soun
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ds adorablerf and it was. The problem was that I still looked like a childrf and I
wondered when I would stop. Christian made me feel awkward about my body all the
time. He didn’t mean to. At leastrf he didn’t offer me cosmetic surgeryrf but he
was always trying to doll me up and turn me into someone… shiny. For instancerf we
might be on vacation together. He would buy me clothes that made me stylish and
elegantrf but he would also try to buy me impracticalrf fashionable clothes I
didn’t know what to do with. I couldn’t wear them to school. They looked like red
carpet ball gowns. What was I going to do with a sequined gown that didn't hide my
surgery scars? His behavior made more sense after our little adventure in Calgary
where he dressed up like a sweaty Frenchman and then like a redheaded teenager. I
was starting to think that costume changes were more of an interest to him than I
had imagined. Maybe he wasn’t trying to make me over because he was dissatisfied
with who I wasrf but insteadrf

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because he liked seeing how a costume changed someone. I opened the picnic basket
and I fell in love with him all over again! He sent me cheeserf sliced baguetterf
butternut squash souprf and ripe pears. How could a guy who was hardly ever around
know so much about how to please me? I opened the thermos first and drank in the
smell of spicy soup. I settled back into my seat and watched the rain fall against
the car windows. It was raining that day. He must have knownrf but that didn’t mean
he was in Glasgow. We headed north and I thought about how going to his house was
going to be like opening a present. *** Truth be toldrf I fell asleep before we got
there. Via alternative transportationrf it would have taken hours to get to his
house from the airport. With the carrf I hoped it would be less. Christian’s home
was north of Glasgowrf into the wilds by Loch Lamondrf in a place called Balfron.
When the car came to a stop in front of the houserf I was a little baffled as
Douglas woke me and helped

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me out of the car. It was darkrf but all the lights were on. The house looked like
a castle though it was finished with pale stucco. It resembled a castle because
parts of the house showed visible block-style formations. There were fine square
pillars guarding the drivewayrf and the grounds were kept immaculately. The lights
from the closest house were quite distant. Wasn’t there supposed to be a town?
Douglas got my luggage and walked with me to the front door. He rang the bell.
“Where’s my picnic basket?” I suddenly asked. “I’ll take care of it for yourf”
Douglas replied. He sounded like he thought the basket was garbage. “Get itrf
please. I want it.” He grumbled that he would. I could hear movement behind the
door and a second laterrf it was answered by a woman. I blinked. It was supposed to
be Christian. “You must be Beth. Welcome to Cross Windsrf” she said formally in her
Scottish brogue. I giggled as she let me in the house. “Did Christian seriously
name his house like something out of

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a Gothic romance?” The woman looked less than amused as her forehead furrowed.
“Cross Winds has been the name of this house since the late nineteenth century. I
assure yourf Mr. Henderson did not name itrf but it’s a tradition we like to keep.
I am Mrs. MacGavin and I’m both the housekeeper and the maid.” She opened a
walletrf gave Douglas appropriate payment and a tip. “I’ll just be back with the
young lady’s basketrf” he said as he took the money. “Basket?” Mrs. MacGavin asked
curiously. “It’s minerf” I said tonelessly. If she wanted to preserve the
distinction in our ranksrf I could be equally cold to her. The truth wasrf I kept
everything Christian gave me. I kept old theater ticketsrf odd bits of paperrf
receiptsrf and anything else. I even kept an old bagel in my trunk for six months
before Trinity found it and threatened she would tip the administration that my
room needed to be searched for drugs if I didn’t throw it away. Douglas returned
with my basket and ducked out. Mrs. MacGavin sh

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ut the door behind him. “I know it’s late and you probably want to get to bedrf but
I’ve been instructed you must receive a tour of the house before I leave.” “You’re
leaving?” What I wanted to say was thank goodnessrf but I managed to keep it down.
“Yes. Normallyrf I come and give the house a thorough cleaning only before Mr.
Henderson is set to arrive. Otherwiserf the house remains empty. Would you like
some tea?” I shook my head. “Water will be fine.” She led me into the kitchen which
was an incredibly spiffy affair. I sat at the marble-topped barrf while she poured
me a glass of water and continued her discourse. “Cross Winds has a gardener who
comes every dayrf dead of winter or heat of summer. His name is Henry Brandon.
There are two conservatories in this house as well as a greenhouse in the yard. Mr.
Henderson has hired a temporary cook for you. Mable will cook you breakfastrf
lunchrf and dinner. Unless you cancel your meal. There will be a menu for you to
approve for the next day at e

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very dinner meal. Here is the menu for tomorrow.” She handed me a piece of paper
with the meals printed on fancy card stock with crinkled edges. Breakfast was
scrambled eggs with fried tomatoes and toast. For lunchrf I was eating smoked
haddock and tomatoes and chives. Then for dinnerrf I was being fed a full venison
meal with potatoes and gravy. I ran a hand over my stomach. Christian didn’t know I
was practically a vegetarianrf because I ate like him when I was with him. I’d have
to talk to Mable about the food when I met her. “Looks goodrf” I said to Mrs.
MacGavinrf giving her back the menu. “I should also tell you that I’ll be stopping
by every morning to tidy up. I’ll show you your room.” As we climbed the
staircaserf I suddenly realized that since Christian had hired a maidrf I would not
have the pleasure of cleaning his house (it wouldn't have been a pleasure for any
other person). He had also hired a cookrf so I wouldn't be going to the market or
fixing my own meals. Part of what I wan

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ted was ruined with these extra people aroundrf because he didn't think I could
take care of myself. I lingered behind as Mrs. MacGavin hurried up the stairs. “You
wouldn’t know to look at the placerf but Mr. Henderson had quite a bit of
renovating done to prepare for your stay.” “Why would he do that?” I wondered.
“Wellrf your bedroom didn’t connect to the bathroom at firstrf but he made a door.”
Mrs. MacGavin led me into my bedroom with a flourish. Christian had been shopping I
could see. It had probably been an ordinary room oncerf but now he’d made it into
something extraordinary. I ought to have been grateful. He thought it was what I
wantedrf a place for myselfrf when I wanted to be in his place. The room had
originally been brown and cream to match the rest of the houserf but was now white
as white with college dorm room fashion. Meaning there were pillows in the shape of
clouds with faces on them and beads hanging from the walls intertwined with fairy
lights. The bed was brand newrf com

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fortable-looking and puffy. There was a tiny pear tree by the window with a note
for me on how to care for it while it was ‘visiting’ me from the conservatory. It
was all kinds of adorable and yet sort of wretched at the same time. Christian
really knew how to give gifts while withholding what I really wanted. I read the
note and turned to Mrs. MacGavin. “Is that all?” For a momentrf it looked like she
couldn’t think of anything else to tell merf but then she remembered one last
thing. “You need to tell me if you decide to go back to Toronto. Here’s my card.”
“You don’t think I’ll stay long?” “No. Not unless you fall in love with Henry
Brandon.” I scoffed. “Why would I fall in love with Henry Brandon?” “I’m just
saying it will be lonely here if you don’t make a friend. Goodnightrf Beth. I’ll
lock the doors on my way out.” It wasn’t soon enough. I couldn't snoop with her
around. As soon as I heard the click of the front doorrf I charged around searching
for Christian’s bedroom. Aside from m

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y roomrf the bathroom and a linen closetrf every other door on the top floor was
locked. The knobs weren’t just sissy bathroom locks eitherrf but fancy outdoor
locks that required keys. Furiousrf I went downstairs to explore. Remarkablyrf
yesrf there were two conservatories. I almost didn’t get any further than the first
one. It was round and had beautiful plants that circled the whole outside edge. An
ornate fountain trickled water by a padded sofa. In the center of the room was a
tiny round table with two chairs. I wanted to eat breakfast there with Christian.
The second conservatory had a pool in it. It was very long and narrow with crystal
blue waterrf no stairs in and no diving board. Very obviouslyrf it was for swimming
laps. The edges were garnished with beautiful plants. I even figured out where my
little pear tree had come from. I found the library. It ran right through the
center of the house. It had once been a ballroomrf but Christian had it converted.
I could have screamed when I s

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aw itrf but not because I was pleased. Most of the bookshelves had glass doors
installed over them that could only be opened with keys. I was outraged. He had
gone through a lot of trouble to lock me out of his life. I found one bookshelf
that was left unlockedrf but it looked bizarre next to the old hardbacks because
the spines were a rainbow of color. It didn’t take me long to figure out Christian
had bought out the entire young adult inventory of a bookstore and arranged the
books hererf without bothering to put them up differently than how they came off
the shelf. After thatrf I found a formal dining roomrf another bathroomrf a door
down to the cellar which was so tinyrf it didn’t cover the whole base of the house.
I had almost lost hope that I would find a speck of Christian's personality when I
saw a door that branched off the back entry. It was a little room that contained a
battered couch (that had probably once been a dog’s favorite spot)rf an old
bicyclerf and a pile of dogeared fashi

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on magazines. Christian was too classy to place his magazines next to his finely
bound books. Did he ride the bicycle? The tires were flat. There was an old quilt
on the back of the couch. I went upstairsrf got my pear treerf and slept in that
strange little room. It was easy. I was so tired I could have fallen asleep on the
stairs on my way down. *** In the morningrf I didn’t wake up on time for breakfast.
I waddled into the kitchen with the blanket wrapped around my shoulders. Mable was
long gone. Insteadrf there was a plate with a little cover over it on the dining
room table. It was stone cold and I had to warm it up in the microwave. I took the
plate into the room I slept in and cuddled up on the couch to eat the food. It was
pretty good aside from the tomatoes. I should have been up on time if I wanted
those to taste good. I sat and aterf all the while composing a scathing email to
Christian. Since I was alone in the houserf I said my attempts out loud between
bites. “Dear Christianrf y

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our house in Balfron is lovely. It’s especially lovely that you locked up all the
books…” My tone wasn’t right. I had to quit and try again. “Dear Christianrf thanks
for letting me come to stay at your home in Balfron. You didn’t need to go through
all that trouble to renovate. I…” Stuck again. How could I complain that he’d
renovated his house for me so I’d be more comfortable? Third time's the charm.
“Dear Christian… When are you coming? I want to see you.” Then suddenlyrf there was
a tap at the door. I nearly jumped out of my skin. “Who is it?” I asked timidly.
“It’s the gardenerrf” came a British accent. I put down my plate and answered the
door. Then I stood backrf completely stunned. Red hairrf freckles across the nose.
“You CAME!” I shouted and threw myself into his arms. For maybe three glorious
secondsrf I thought my wildest dreams had come true. I thought that I wasn’t the
only one who wanted our relationship to be romantic and he had concocted a fake
identity so he could be the te

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enage boyfriend he insisted I needed. Then it all came crashing down. “Wait. Wait.
Little girlrf get off me!” He essentially threw me off. I stared at him in
bewilderment. Surelyrf this was Christian dressed up as Charles Lewis. “Now I don’t
know who you think I amrf” he saidrf leading me back into the room and keeping me
at arm's length. “But you’re making a mistake.” I didn’t answer him. Insteadrf I
looked at him very carefully. He was right. I was making a mistake. I had looked at
color rather than shape. You can imitate someone’s lookrf but you can’t look
exactly like someone else. This guy was not Christian. Christian’s shoulders were
very square and so were the knuckles in his hands. Christian’s hands were bony.
This guy’s hands were meaty and his shoulders sloped. The biggest difference of all
was that he was at least ten centimeters shorter than Christian. How could I have
thought he was the same person? “My name is Charles Lewisrf” the boy continued.
“Who do you think I am?” “Charles

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Lewisrf” I answered in a dispirited monotone. “It’s just that Christian told me so
much about yourf I felt like I knew you.” I looked away and turned my back to him.
“Sorry for coming on so strong. It won’t happen again.” Charles’ expression was
perplexed. He thought I was crazy. Except it didn’t matter in the face of my
disappointment. “All rightrf” he said in a slow voice. “Where’s Henry Brandon? I
thought he was the gardenerrf” I saidrf trying to move away from the fact that I
had hugged a stranger in yesterday’s travel clothes. “I’m helping him with his work
this summer. You’ll probably see me a lot. I’m in charge of the plants in the
house.” “That’s good to hear. If I were doing itrf all of them would be dead by
September. I’m Beth. I won’t get in your way.” I got uprf wrapped the blanket
around my shoulders and drooped out of the roomrf leaving my dirty dishes on the
arm of the couch. Charles followed me. “Did I do something wrong?” I didn’t bother
to look back at him. “No. You didn’t.”

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d Replacement I met Mable at lunch. She was a beautiful piece of work. Her hair was
brown like minerf but it had been touched up with way more highlights. She wore an
extremely messy bunrf navy nail polishrf smoky eye shadowrf and even though she
worked as a cookrf she drove a yellow Mercedes. I met her in the kitchen. “You’re
Beth?” she asked when I came in. “And you’re Mable?” She nodded and continued
chopping chives. “Nice carrf” I said pleasantly. I expected her to say something
curt likerf ‘It’s my husband’s’rf or ‘Christian lets me use it when I have to go
back and forth from the house three times a day’rf or ‘It costs a fortune to
maintain’rf but she didn’t say those things. What really came out of her mouth
wasrf “It was my birthday present to me three weeks ago. You’ve got to take care of
yourself sometimes.” She placed the haddock in front of me with a flourish and
packed up the leftovers to take home with her. “If you want anything special in the
fridgerf just write it on the back of th

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e menu and I’ll get it when I go shopping tomorrow.” I saw she had left a menu for
me to approve on the table and heard the front door click. She was already gone. I
got up and looked out the window. She was walking down the front stepsrf pulling
her sunglasses over her eyes. I ate uprf but I wasn’t two bites in before the house
phone rang. With one wordrf “Hirf” I knew it was Christian. “Hi.” “How are you
settling in?” he asked pleasantly. “Fine.” “And your trip went well?” “Yep. Thanks
for the basket. The food you picked was fantastic.” “Good. And how do you like your
room?” No sense lying. “I wouldn’t know. I slept in your dog room.” “My dog room?
What dog room?” He laughed. “You knowrf that little room with the old couchrf the
bikerf and the ancient wool blanket.” I left out mentioning the fashion magazines.
He groaned. “You shouldn’t sleep in there. Why aren’t you sleeping upstairs?” “It
was really nice of you to have a room prepared for merf but you could have asked me
what I like.” He s

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ounded surprised. “You don't like it?” “I like it fine. That's not the problem. I
wanted to make up the room myself. You've already done everything.” “Wellrf feel
free to change anything you likerf” he said obligingly. “You won't feel hurt if I
rip the whole thing out and change every last detail?” “Uh...” he said. That was
the first time I ever heard him say the word 'uh'. He always knew exactly what to
say. He never stuttered. “I'll leave it alonerf” I suddenly decided. “You made it
for me and I'll leave it alone.” “Not perfectly alonerf Beth. It needs to be lived
in.” “Yeahrf I want to live in your houserf” I saidrf my words heavy with an
internal meaning that didn't come through in my voice. “Why are your books locked
up?” “Because they're valuable. Each volume is a collector’s item worth thousands
of pounds. They are not for reading. Many of them are first editions and if you
touch even one of them I’ll send you to public school next semesterrf” he quipped.
“You sell them to pay my tuitio

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n?” I gasped. “Don’t assumerf but the sale of a few of them would pay for an entire
year of your schooling—eighty thousand dollars or so. Anywayrf I’m teasing. Enjoy
your lunch and I’ll see you this weekend.” I withered when he hung up the phone.
The rest of the day bordered on boring. I kept 'almost' running into Charles. After
lunchrf I tried to tour the yardrf but he was working in the flower beds. It looked
like I was trying to bump into him when I didn’t want to see him at all. Hiding in
the library wasn’t much better. He kept coming in. I didn’t realize there were
plants in the library until he came in to water them. In the endrf I went back to
the dog room and didn’t leave until it was time for dinnerrf which I ate completely
alone. The next day ran nearly the samerf except by that point I had decided on a
strategy to avoid Charles—pick a spot and stay in it. Charles came in to water the
plants in the library three times before I figured it out. I wasn’t accidentally
running into him;

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he was the one who was stalking me. I hoped I was imagining his interest. Maybe I
was wrong and house plants in Scotland needed to be watered carefullyrf drop by
droprf with an extra small watering can. The next dayrf he finally chirped up. “Are
you really this reclusive? Is that why you came here?” “Huh?” “Why did you come
here?” he blurted. “There has to be a reason why a promising young woman such as
yourself came to the middle of nowhere to read. Are you getting over a painful love
affair? Did you come here so you could lick your wounds privately?” I ran my tongue
along the outside of my bottom teeth. “Not exactly. I'm not 'getting over it'. I’m
experiencing that painful relationship right now.” “And being here makes it less
painful?” he asked anxiously. “No. Being here makes it more painfulrf” I saidrf
surprised at my own forthrightness. I sighed. “It’s just that sometimes it’s better
to feel what you feelrf don’t you think?” “You sound like a soppy singer.” I
flicked my hair out of my

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face and went back to reading. My book was trite by the wayrf but everything is
when you’re essentially stuck in the waiting room. “Why don’t we become friends?”
Charles askedrf carefully approaching and reading the cover of my book. “Christian
would love thatrf” I said coldly. “If you’re so against the idearf why did you hug
me the other day?” “Can we pretend that didn’t happen?” I askedrf feeling heat
assail my cheeks. “No.” I glared at him. I never hated a person for having freckles
before. I had frecklesrf but every spot on his facerf every curve on his body that
didn’t belong to Christian was hateful. I wanted to be with the Christian who was
faking being Charles Lewis so he could be with me—so he could be a teenage boy and
kiss me in front of everyone. How come he couldn’t be Christian? I wilted. The
clueless loser in front of me didn’t deserve to be despised. I bit my lip and went
back to reading. I had to tolerate him until I could get an explanation from
Christian. “Sorf what did Chri

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stian tell you about me?” Charles persisted. “Please ask him yourselfrf” I said in
a small voice. “I’m not good at explaining and I’ve already made a fool of myself
in front of you. He’s coming this weekend. You can talk to him then.” After I said
thatrf Charles stopped trying to talk to me and went back to his work. I should
have been lonelyrf but I wasn’t. With Charles gonerf I got to thinking and hoping.
I felt blind about the masquerade unfolding before me. I just needed a hint. What
could I find out if I could unlock the master bedroom on the second floor? I wasn’t
good at picking locks or intrigue by myself. I needed Trinity. I picked up the
house phone. That was where I made my first mistake. My cell phone was upstairsrf
but I knew there was nothing wrong with charging Christian with a long-distance
call. He paid all my bills anywayrf so I picked up a phone on a side table and
dialed her number. Trinity was spending the first month of her vacation in Muskoka
at one of her parents’ vac

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nearly bit my tongue out. That was right. She thought that this house belonged to
Charles. I had to think of a lie. Half-truths and half-lies made great cover-ups.
“Trinityrf my life is so screwed up. I didn’t meet a random guy in Calgary.”
“What?” “Charles is Christian’s gardener. He sent him to get me because he couldn't
get away. I’m staying in Christian’s house. That’s why he let me come here.”
Trinity loudly popped her bubblegum. “That man is so skewed. Sorf he left you there
to fool around with his gardener? I love it. I wish my parents would die and leave
me to some sexy businessman.” “Exceptrf aren’t you eighteen in six months? What
good will it do you then?” “Touché. Anywayrf how are things going with Charles?
Still romantic? Is he good with his tongue?” “As of this momentrf my plans
surrounding him are off. It’s safe to say that we won’t make a good couple no
matter what Christian thinks. I’m mad at him for even suggesting it.” There was a
weird sound almost like a cough on the ot
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her end of the line. “Trinity?” “That wasn’t merf” she defended. Then there was a
click. “Crap. Someone has been listening on my end of the linerf” I said hotly.
“Who?” “Charles. He’s the only one hererf except I thought he was outside. I’ll
have to call you back.” I hung up the phonerf just as Charles burst into the
library. “What’s going on?” he demanded. “You like listening in on private phone
conversations?” I asked smoothly. That richrf snobby voice was so handy. My disdain
could always cover up all my other emotionsrf including embarrassment. “What? I
picked up the phone to make a phone call.” His face was as red as his freckles.
“Wellrf when you heard the line was in userf you obviously should have hung up
immediately. What’s your excuse?” “You were talking about me! I had a right to hear
what you said.” “No. You didn’t. We could have been talking about anyone. Just
because we were talking about a man named Charlesrf it was ridiculous of you to
assume it was you.” “Were you talking about

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some other Charles then?” I shrugged indifferently. “You little liar!” he said
without hesitation. That took my breath away. I had never been called a liar in my
whole liferf even when I lied outright. I was so angryrf it felt like my ability to
talk was lost in my fury. “You were too talking about merf” he said forcefullyrf
putting his face close to mine. “You just won’t admit it.” I hated him. His cheeks
were pudgy and the muscle in his jaw looked weak. I wanted to slap his face. I
almost didrf but he moved away from me and headed toward one of the conservatories
saying horrible things all the way. “You’re just angry that I didn’t fall for you
when you threw yourself at me the other dayrf” his voice echoed across the room as
he walked out. I couldn’t let him go like that. I got off the couch. I had to make
him understand how wrong he wasrf but even though my feet stomped across the
library carpetrf I couldn’t think of what to yell at him. “I don’t like yourf” was
all I managed to come up wit

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h by the time I caught up with him by the pool. “Of courserf you don’t. Not after I
called you by your right name—a liar. Why would you tell your friend you met me in
Calgary? I’ve never even been to Canada. What are you covering uprf little liar?” I
snapped. I picked up his watering can and dumped the whole thing out on his head in
one splash. Not that it had much water in it. It was a small watering can. “I’m not
a liarrf” I said coldlyrf as water ran down the end of his nose in a stream. “You
heard the wrong part of the conversation. Don’t assume you know what’s going on.
It’s rude.” I dropped the watering can while he stood there stupefied. I turned
around and tried to make a dignified exit back into the library. No such luck.
Charles came up behind me and hefted me up off the ground. “What are you doing?” I
squealed. “Just so there’s no mistaking—I didn’t accidentally push you into the
poolrf” he said as I fought him. “I picked you up and threw you in deliberately.”
“No!” I screamed. A
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nd just as Charles was about to dump me bottom-first into the poolrf a smooth voice
at the door interrupted him. “Perhaps I should have expected this.” Charles didn’t
drop merf but instead turned his whole bodyrf so both of us could see Christian
standing in the door frame. “What are you doing?” he asked Charles. “Uh?” Charles
sputtered. “Put me downrf you groundhog!” I practically spat. Charles lowered my
feet to the concrete. As soon as I got tractionrf I rushed to Christian. His
expression was concerned as he took in the details: my flushed facerf Charles’ wet
shirtrf the redhead’s heaving chest. Christianrf himselfrf looked collected. He was
the adult in the roomrf and I felt it as he saidrf “Why don’t you head upstairsrf
Beth? I’ll be up to talk to you in a minute. I just want to have a quick word with
the gardener.” I stepped past himrf and Christian closed the door to the
conservatory behind me with a slap. I didn’t hear what he said to Charles. I was in
too big of a hurry to do exactly what

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Christian told me to do. I was halfway up the stairs before I remembered that I
wasn’t doing that anymore. I paused and thought of returningrf but the sound of an
outside door closing stopped me. He had already finished talking to Charles.
CHAPTER FOUR The Bugs were Sprawling Things felt normal when I sat down to dinner
with Christian. He gave Mable the night off and took me to a polished restaurant.
He sat on the other side of the table wearing a navy suit jacket and a white
collared shirt. I wore a dress that was worth a small fortunerf with the idiotic
notion that if he saw me in the right dressrf our relationship would change. It
wasn’t working. No matter what I was wearingrf I still felt fourteen years old
again. “I don’t like Charlesrf” I said after we ordered. “Should I let him go?”
Christian askedrf turning his eyes on me. I looked at him very closely. He was
wearing contact lensesrf but they looked clear. Naturallyrf Christian would not
condescend to wear some cheesy colored lenses w

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here you could see the pixels. His eyes were probably naturally hazel I decided as
I picked up my water glass. “It’s a pity it hasn’t worked as well as I
envisionedrf” Christian continued. “I thought you might have a memorable summer
with him. That was why I asked Brandon to invite him up. Have you met Brandon yet?”
With my worst fears confirmedrf all I could mutter was a quietrf “No.” “Wellrf hold
onto your heart. Brandon is a surprise.” I frowned. “Why are you setting me up with
these guys?” “Bethrf I’m not setting you up with anyone. I know you don’t like your
familyrf and I can’t be your family in the future. The only thing to do is to make
a new family for you. I’m not telling you to fall in love with Charles or Brandon
any more than I’m telling you to fall in love with Hilary or Mable.” “Who’s
Hilary?” “The housekeeperrf Mrs. MacGavin. Ha! She didn’t even tell you her first
name? She’s a cold one. In any caserf I can’t have you jumping around from house to
houserf so make friends with the
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asked him. He said it was a mild flirtation and he thought you were having as good
a time as he was.” I shook my head in disgust. “Did you believe him?” “You didn’t
look like the feeling was mutual when I came in. I’ve thrown you into pools
beforerf but you always seem to like it. I sent him home. You’re the one I wanted
to talk to.” “He heard me talking on the phonerf” I admitted. “I was talking to
Trinity. He listened in on our conversation. You can’t know how surprised I was to
meet the real Charles Lewis when I came here. I had to come up with a weird story
to cover up all our lies. He heard everything. What I said to Trinity made sense in
the endrf but for Charles to hear it… He thinks I came here in the first place
because I wanted to… be his girlfriendrf hang out with himrf s-something.” I was
breathless and stuttering by the end. Christian glanced sideways at merf a chuckle
on his lips. “Do you want me to give you a chance to clean it uprf or do you want
me to send him away?” I didn’t

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like itrf but that sealed it. I rolled my eyes. “I’ll fix it then.” That
daredevilrf let’s-go-playrf expression lit up his features. His eyebrows bounced
once and matched the smug set of his mouth. “That’s my girl.” I felt stupid. I was
doing what he wanted again. I needed to make a bigger effort to go against him.
When we left the restaurantrf Christian’s hand lingered on my waist as he led me
out. He was still touching me when we reached the car. For just those few secondsrf
it felt like he might be rewarding me for trying to play his game. *** That nightrf
I slept in the room Christian renovated for me. It wasn’t as bad as I originally
imagined. He had thoughtfully put little comfort items all over the room. For
instancerf there was a picture of the two of us at a restaurant in San Francisco.
Aside from the books he had purchased for me in the libraryrf there were editions
of my favorite books lined up in a row. There was a jewelry box on the dresser with
a collection of new pieces for me.

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He was really kind. I just hadn’t been able to appreciate itrf because in my heart
I wanted so much more. That nightrf I slipped out of bed and tapped on his bedroom
door. When there was no answerrf I peeked inside. The bed was empty. Where was he?
I padded down the hallway and all the way to the bottom of the stairs. I found him
in the library. All the lights were on and there was music playing from a stereo
system in the corner. Christian was on a ladder that was attached to the bookshelf
to help someone reach the higher books. He was dressed for bedrf wearing a pair of
sweatpants and a black sleeveless undershirt. Even though he was listening to music
over the speakersrf he had earphones over his ears. His mouth was moving softly to
the music as he moved an electronic wand over his books. “What are you doing?” I
askedrf pulling my dressing-gown closer around me. He looked at me and pulled his
headset off. “Did I wake you?” “Norf” I saidrf peering up at him curiously. “What
are you doing?”

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Christian shook his head to show he wouldn’t answer me and put a finger to his lips
to show that maybe I shouldn’t ask too many questions either. “The music is a
little quietrf isn’t it? Why don’t you turn up the volume?” I went to the receiver
and found the volume dial. We were alone in the houserf so I kept turning it up as
Christian indicated until it was louder than I thought was necessary. He dropped
the wand in his hand like he was caught in the actrf so he may as well fess up.
“I’m looking for bugs.” “Normallyrf don’t the maids just use a vacuum?” I quipped.
“Okay… I’m looking for tiny audio recording devices. This is why I don’t like
staying in the same place all the time. Fresh hotel rooms are almost always clean.”
“Have you found any?” He pointed to the sofa table with his chin. He had a gavel
there with a sound blockrf and he had pounded a few of the tiny devices to nothing
but broken parts. I picked up a few of them and pulled on the red wires. He slid
down the ladder and stood

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beside me. “Still want to call this place your home? Any place I am will always
have these disadvantages.” “You don’t want to pull me into this?” “Obviously not.”
I glanced at the wand. “How does that thing work?” “It’s simplerf” he saidrf
pulling the headphones off and placing them on my head. They were still warm from
the contact they’d had with his skin. I loved itrf but like alwaysrf I couldn’t let
him see that I loved it. “Turn it onrf and point it to the place you want to
examine. If it lights up and beeps then you’ve got a hit and you’ve got something
to find. This room is enormous and I got three off that wall. Why don’t you start
by checking the furniture and the lamps?” The machine clicked softly through the
headset as I ran the black wand over a side table. The machine beeped just as
Christian said it would. I bent down and felt the underside of the table. I
couldn’t feel anything. “Sometimesrf you have to get really involved to find it. I
often turn the furniture upside down when

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I’m doing this.” I got on my back and stuck my head under the table. Setting the
wand downrf I felt the rough wood with my fingers. Once I did thatrf the bug was
easy to find. It was stuck to the middle of the table with a glob of adhesive. With
effortrf I pulled it free. When I saw it in the lightrf it had taken a small part
of the table with it. “Good jobrf” Christian said with an easy smile. “You’re a
natural.” “Stop itrf” I said with a good-humored grin. He always complimented
everything I didrf even though he said at the beginning that using the wand was
easy. “Sometimesrf they hide the bugs in the furniture in such a way that you can’t
find them unless you rip the joints apart. When I realize that’s what has
happenedrf I put the piece of furniture up for auction. It’s worse when they hide
them under carpets or floorboards. That’s when all of this gets really
discouraging. I have gone through rooms smaller than this and found twenty pieces
of surveillance equipment. They think that you’ll

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have a pile of ten of them and think that there’s no more. What we’re seeing now
is a rush job. Someone did this recently and on the fly. Do you want to break it
with the gavel?” I said yes and he placed it on the sound block for me. I expected
it to make more noise than it did. If I had been hammering the gavel it should have
sounded like a judge in court. Insteadrf it was just the sound of the plastic and
metal changing shape and breaking. That was why I hadn’t heard him breaking the
other bugs when I was upstairs. It was funny though. I had seen the gavel in the
room many times and it never occurred to me that it was anything other than
decorative. “Seriouslyrf Christian. Who could have done this?” He pulled a face.
“It’s best not to think about it. I know that sounds counter-intuitiverf but you
could drive yourself crazy trying to figure out who in your circle is betraying you
when someone was breaking in and replacing the devices daily. In my experiencerf
being a gentleman is a bette

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r tactic.” “Why?” “In being kind to the person betraying yourf they start to
question what they’re doing. Sometimesrf I’ve pulled bugs out of offices every day
for a month. Thenrf after a sincere conversation with the lady who cleans the
toiletsrf there are no more bugs. On the other handrf ruthless people will find a
way no matter how nice you are or how tight your security is. Try to feel secure.
I’ve known Brandonrf Mable and Hilary for a long time and I feel safe having them
totter around the house while you’re here.” My head jerked up. “You meanrf they’re
here for security?” He tapped my forehead with his finger. “What do you think
‘safety in numbers’ means? What do you think family means? Just that those around
you are familiar? No.” “Sorryrf I didn’t understandrf” I mumbled. He flicked up the
music playing on the speakerrf so the sound filled the whole house. “Now that
you’ve seen what I’m doingrf we’re going to quit this room and do your bedroom.”
“Why?” “Because that was the room I had r

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enovatedrf thus it is the most likely to be littered in bugs and cameras. I had
planned to do it before you arrivedrf but something got in the way. Normallyrf I
don’t have to do this because we’re in a freshrf clean room in Jamaica or
something.” He picked up his gear and I followed him out of the library. There was
something special about walking behind him up the stairs. When Christian walkedrf
he walked with purpose. I didn’t walk like that. Never. I rushedrf but I never
considered myself a force for change. He took the wand and did the closet. Soon he
came back with a device. “This has a camera as well as a microphonerf” he said
drably. My eyes opened wide on the implication. “Change your clothes by the
closet?” he asked in a hesitant voice. Someone had been recording me as I changed
my clothes? “I should have been here ahead of time. I should have cleaned this
outrf” Christian saidrf dropping it on the floor. Then he placed a hard-cover book
over it and jumped on it until it snapped. “It’s

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not your faultrf” I mutteredrf scanning the room like I could see the cameras if I
looked hard enough. “I wanted a home with you. This is part of thatrf isn’t it?” He
frowned. “I didn’t want this for yourf Beth.” Angry sweat was forming at the base
of his neck. "It’s okayrf” I saidrf sliding my hand into his. “I’m not a regular
teenager. Do you know how many people saw my body when I was in the hospital all
those years ago? If we made a list of everyone who has seen my breastsrf it would
be a pretty long list.” He grasped my hand and suddenly kissed the back of my
knuckles. For a secondrf I thought he might have wanted to do morerf touch me
morerf kiss me morerf but that was all he did. “You are such a resilient girlrf” he
saidrf casting his eyes about the room wearily rather than look in my face. After
thatrf he returned to his own room and retrieved a second set of tools. He placed
the headphones on my head and put the black wand in my hand. “This is my back-up
set. Do this with merf” he saidrf not

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like it was a request. “The work will go faster with tworf and if you still want
to have a home with merf this is the price of admission.” I flipped the switch to
turn it on and we got started. *** My room turned out to have the most surveillance
equipment in itrf which I thought was odd. Shouldn’t his room have had more? All of
the bugs and cameras were in fairly superficial locationsrf so he didn’t think the
builders he used for my renovations were to blame. “They could have done it in such
a way that we would have had to saw your room into swiss cheese to find them.” “Do
you think the house is clean now?” I asked as we consolidated our piles of broken
devices into one box. “I don’t know. The main point now is to continue checking the
rooms daily. Noticing when a new piece shows up will be crucial to discovering who
is planting them.” “Why don’t we set up a camera?” I suggested. It seemed like the
obvious solution. “Their camera? Our camera? There is no difference. They can get
informat

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ion from our camera just as easily as we can. In my opinionrf cameras make people
stupid. Something looks one way on the camera's footagerf so it must be true.
Besidesrf I don’t want either of us to turn into the sort of people who spend their
day sorting through video footage.” *** He left Sunday night with a promise that he
would visit the next weekend. He said I could invite Trinity over in August and
made arrangements for Charles Lewis to be elsewhere during her visitrf so at least
I could enjoy my time with her. He said smoothing things over with Charles was up
to me. On Monday morningrf I slept in Christian’s bed until noon. He hadn’t given
me permissionrf but he also hadn’t locked the door. Mable found me in his room and
brought me lunch in bed since breakfast was untouched. “I wish I were Christian’s
daughterrf” I heard her whisper under her breath as she left the room. On Monday
afternoonrf I met Mr. Brandon. His name was Henry Brandonrf but just Brandon seemed
to work just fine for hi

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mrf so I called him that. Everyone had been right about him. He was a total show
stopper. He was a full-grown man with dark hairrf thick eyebrowsrf stubble on his
chin and a bone structure designed to make girls melt. To top it offrf he had the
one devastating charm Christian had to leave out of his long list of male
attributes—an intoxicating Scottish accent. It was much nicer having him around
rather than Charles. When I came around to meet himrf he gave me a little lesson on
how to care for the plants. The first day I asked himrf “Why are you telling me
this?” “Wellrf henrf someday I might not be here and it would be better if someone
knew. These gardens are fussy for a house no one lives in. Two conservatories? If I
were Hendersonrf I’d have chucked all the plants outside ages ago and replaced them
with silk ones. But then againrf if he didn’t need a gardener all year longrf where
would I be?” “Is this your only job?” “Not all the timerf but sometimes it is.” He
winked at me. I blushed. Really

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rf the guys I knew were nothing like him. “Are you really busy right now? With
other gardensrf I mean?” “Next weekrf I’ll be doing some landscaping elsewhere.
Charles will take care of the plants here.” I groaned. “Reallyrf I don’t mind
learning. Why don’t you teach me how to take care of the house plants so that he
doesn’t have to come?” Brandon’s eyebrows popped up. “Is there a reason you don’t
want him to get paid?” “Okayrf I didn’t mean to deprive him of a paycheck. Can’t he
get paid while I do the work?” “What have you got against him anyway? He told me
about the tiff you two had. Something about the swimming pool?” Brandon stood
expectantlyrf waiting for me to fill in the blank. “I’ve never been so embarrassed
in my liferf” I managed to spit after a minute. “Really? He didn’t even get you in
the pool from what I heard. Charmed liferf” he commented and went back to his work.
I watched him cart a wheelbarrow full of additions to the compost heap. His clothes
were shabby. Both the knees in

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his trousers were patched and his cuffs were frayed. His boots looked ancientrf
like someone had once worn them to warrf and his shirt had more stains than I could
count. I liked him. *** I didn't get out Christian's bug detector until after
everyone had gone for the night. It was time to check to see if any replacement
bugs had been planted. I went around the house and made sure all the doors and
windows were locked with their curtains pulled closed. Then I started by scanning
Christian's bedroom. It was empty. I scanned the room twicerf just to make surerf
but it had stayed clean. In my second solitary sweep of the houserf I found a few
devices Christian and I hadn’t found on the first night we went looking. Thenrf
because I had grown suspicious of Charlesrf I checked the conservatories. Christian
had not named him when he spoke of the people he trusted. Wellrf I didn’t trust
Charlesrf and he was always in the conservatories. I looked carefullyrf but there
was nothing new. Even sorf I didn’t th

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ink that meant Charles wasn’t spying on Christian and I. He was in and out of the
house so oftenrf he didn't need electronic eyes and ears to observe what was going
on. After I smashed the devices on the sound blockrf I went up to Christian’s room.
From his bedrf I made a map of the house and listed the exact location of every bug
and camera Christian and I had found. I fell asleep breathing in the scent he left
on his pillow. I thought it made it feel softer. CHAPTER FIVE When the House was
Empty Even though Christian had told me not to waste my energy thinking about who
could have planted the surveillance equipmentrf I was alone in a house with nothing
particular to do or think about. I agreed with Christian that it didn’t seem like
anyone on his payroll was likely to have planted the bugs. Besidesrf if any of them
had wanted to spy on usrf it would have been more effective to simply hang around
with their ears open. By that logicrf the cameras were more likely to be placed by
someone who o

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nly visited the house occasionally. Mable had taken to cooking my food at her house
and bringing it over on a covered plate. She was so in and outrf she seemed like
the most likely person to be planting bugsrf except I didn’t find any new bugs
after that first night I looked alone. Mrs. MacGavin came to the house every day to
tidy up. She was at the house more than made sense. It wasn’t like I was a snail
that tracked a trail of slime wherever I wentrf but to hear her tell it—I was the
worst snail she’d ever met. I got a glass of milk in the morningrf took it with me
to the libraryrf used a coasterrf drank the rest of itrf went to the bathroomrf
came back and she had snapped up my cup like I was a total burden. Wellrf it was an
awfully good thing she was around to clean up after me. She also changed my sheets
every day. They didn’t even do that at posh hotels. She held out a trash can for me
two bites before I finished my candy bar. Sometimes she even waited for me to
finish eatingrf hovering be

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The Wonderful Wizard of Oz 2 The Wonderful Wizard of Oz By L. Frank Baum This
edition published by Obooko Publishing with immense respect and gratitude to the
author and transcribers. www.obooko.com Although you do not have to pay for this
bookrf certain parts hereinrf including cover designrf images and formatting may
be protected by international Copyright laws. You may use this edition strictly
for your personal enjoyment only: it must not be hosted or redistributed on other
websites without the written permission of the publishers nor offered for sale in
any form. If you paid for this bookrf or to gain access to itrf we suggest you
demand a refund and report the transaction to the publisher. Cover image: Jim
Cooper (Pixabay) www.obooko.com 3 Contents Chapter 1. The Cyclone Chapter 2. The
Council with the Munchkins Chapter 3. How Dorothy Saved the Scarecrow Chapter 4.
The Road Through the Forest Chapter 5. The Rescue of the Tin Woodman Chapter 6. The
Cowardly Lion Chapter 7. The Jou

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rney to the Great Oz Chapter 8. The Deadly Poppy Field Chapter 9. The Queen of the
Field Mice Chapter 10. The Guardian of the Gates Chapter 11. The Wonderful City of
Oz Chapter 12. The Search for the Wicked Witch Chapter 13. The Rescue Chapter 14.
The Winged Monkeys Chapter 15. The Discovery of Ozrf the Terrible Chapter 16. The
Magic Art of the Great Humbug Chapter 17. How the Balloon Was Launched Chapter 18.
Away to the South Chapter 19. Attacked by the Fighting Trees Chapter 20. The Dainty
China Country Chapter 21. The Lion Becomes the King of Beasts Chapter 22. The
Country of the Quadlings Chapter 23. Glinda The Good Witch Grants Dorothy’s Wish
Chapter 24. Home Again The Wonderful Wizard of Oz 4 Chapter 1 The Cyclone Dorothy
lived in the midst of the great Kansas prairiesrf with Uncle Henryrf who was a
farmerrf and Aunt Emrf who was the farmer’s wife. Their house was smallrf for the
lumber to build it had to be carried by wagon many miles. There were four wallsrf
a floor and a roofrf whi

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ch made one room; and this room contained a rusty looking cookstoverf a cupboard
for the dishesrf a tablerf three or four chairsrf and the beds. Uncle Henry and
Aunt Em had a big bed in one cornerrf and Dorothy a little bed in another corner.
There was no garret at allrf and no cellar—except a small hole dug in the groundrf
called a cyclone cellarrf where the family could go in case one of those great
whirlwinds aroserf mighty enough to crush any building in its path. It was reached
by a trap door in the middle of the floorrf from which a ladder led down into the
smallrf dark hole. When Dorothy stood in the doorway and looked aroundrf she could
see nothing but the great gray prairie on every side. Not a tree nor a house broke
the broad sweep of flat country that reached to the edge of the sky in all
directions. The sun had baked the plowed land into a gray massrf with little
cracks running through it. Even the grass was not greenrf for the sun had burned
the tops of the long blades unti

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l they were the same gray color to be seen everywhere. Once the house had been
paintedrf but the sun blistered the paint and the rains washed it awayrf and now
the house was as dull and gray as everything else. When Aunt Em came there to live
she was a youngrf pretty wife. The sun and wind had changed herrf too. They had
taken the sparkle from her eyes and left them a sober gray; they had taken the red
from her cheeks and lipsrf and they were gray also. She was thin and gauntrf and
never smiled now. When Dorothyrf who was an orphanrf first came to herrf Aunt Em
had been so startled by the child’s laughter that she would scream and press her
hand upon her heart whenever Dorothy’s merry voice reached her ears; and she still
looked at the little girl with wonder that she could find anything to laugh at.
www.obooko.com 5 Uncle Henry never laughed. He worked hard from morning till night
and did not know what joy was. He was gray alsorf from his long beard to his rough
bootsrf and he looke

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d stern and solemnrf and rarely spoke. It was Toto that made Dorothy laughrf and
saved her from growing as gray as her other surroundings. Toto was not gray; he
was a little black dogrf with long silky hair and small black eyes that twinkled
merrily on either side of his funnyrf wee nose. Toto played all day longrf and
Dorothy played with himrf and loved him dearly. Todayrf howeverrf they were not
playing. Uncle Henry sat upon the doorstep and looked anxiously at the skyrf which
was even grayer than usual. Dorothy stood in the door with Toto in her armsrf and
looked at the sky too. Aunt Em was washing the dishes. From the far north they
heard a low wail of the windrf and Uncle Henry and Dorothy could see where the
long grass bowed in waves before the coming storm. There now came a sharp
whistling in the air from the southrf and as they turned their eyes that way they
saw ripples in the grass coming from that direction also. Suddenly Uncle Henry
stood up. “There’s a cyclone comingrf E

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mrf” he called to his wife. “I’ll go look after the stock.” Then he ran toward the
sheds where the cows and horses were kept. Aunt Em dropped her work and came to
the door. One glance told her of the danger close at hand. “Quickrf Dorothy!” she
screamed. “Run for the cellar!” Toto jumped out of Dorothy’s arms and hid under
the bedrf and the girl started to get him. Aunt Emrf badly frightenedrf threw open
the trap door in the floor and climbed down the ladder into the smallrf dark hole.
Dorothy caught Toto at last and started to follow her aunt. When she was halfway
across the room there came a great shriek from the windrf and the house shook so
hard that she lost her footing and sat down suddenly upon the floor. Then a
strange thing happened. The house whirled around two or three times and rose
slowly through the air. Dorothy felt as if she were going up in a balloon. The
Wonderful Wizard of Oz 6 The north and south winds met where the house stoodrf and
made it the exact center

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of the cyclone. In the middle of a cyclone the air is generally stillrf but the
great pressure of the wind on every side of the house raised it up higher and
higherrf until it was at the very top of the cyclone; and there it remained and was
carried miles and miles away as easily as you could carry a feather. It was very
darkrf and the wind howled horribly around herrf but Dorothy found she was riding
quite easily. After the first few whirls aroundrf and one other time when the
house tipped badlyrf she felt as if she were being rocked gentlyrf like a baby in
a cradle. Toto did not like it. He ran about the roomrf now hererf now thererf
barking loudly; but Dorothy sat quite still on the floor and waited to see what
would happen. Once Toto got too near the open trap doorrf and fell in; and at
first the little girl thought she had lost him. But soon she saw one of his ears
sticking up through the holerf for the strong pressure of the air was keeping him
up so that he could not fall. She

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crept to the holerf caught Toto by the earrf and dragged him into the room
againrf afterward closing the trap door so that no more accidents could happen.
Hour after hour passed awayrf and slowly Dorothy got over her fright; but she felt
quite lonelyrf and the wind shrieked so loudly all about her that she nearly
became deaf. At first she had wondered if she would be dashed to pieces when the
house fell again; but as the hours passed and nothing terrible happenedrf she
stopped worrying and resolved to wait calmly and see what the future would bring.
At last she crawled over the swaying floor to her bedrf and lay down upon it; and
Toto followed and lay down beside her. In spite of the swaying of the house and
the wailing of the windrf Dorothy soon closed her eyes and fell fast asleep.
www.obooko.com 7 Chapter 2 The Council with the Munchkins She was awakened by a
shockrf so sudden and severe that if Dorothy had not been lying on the soft bed
she might have been hurt. As it wasrf the
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jar made her catch her breath and wonder what had happened; and Toto put his cold
little nose into her face and whined dismally. Dorothy sat up and noticed that the
house was not moving; nor was it darkrf for the bright sunshine came in at the
windowrf flooding the little room. She sprang from her bed and with Toto at her
heels ran and opened the door. The little girl gave a cry of amazement and looked
about herrf her eyes growing bigger and bigger at the wonderful sights she saw.
The cyclone had set the house down very gently—for a cyclone—in the midst of a
country of marvelous beauty. There were lovely patches of greensward all aboutrf
with stately trees bearing rich and luscious fruits. Banks of gorgeous flowers
were on every handrf and birds with rare and brilliant plumage sang and fluttered
in the trees and bushes. A little way off was a small brookrf rushing and
sparkling along between green banksrf and murmuring in a voice very grateful to a
little girl who had lived so

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long on the dryrf gray prairies. While she stood looking eagerly at the strange
and beautiful sightsrf she noticed coming toward her a group of the queerest
people she had ever seen. They were not as big as the grown folk she had always
been used to; but neither were they very small. In factrf they seemed about as
tall as Dorothyrf who was a well#grown child for her agerf although they wererf so
far as looks gorf many years older. Three were men and one a womanrf and all were
oddly dressed. They wore round hats that rose to a small point a foot above their
headsrf with little bells around the brims that tinkled sweetly as they moved. The
hats of the men were blue; the little woman’s hat was whiterf and she wore a white
gown that hung in pleats from her shoulders. Over it were sprinkled little stars
that glistened in the sun like diamonds. The men were dressed in bluerf of the
same shade as their hatsrf and wore well-polished boots with a deep roll of blue
at the tops. The menrf The Wond

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erful Wizard of Oz 8 Dorothy thoughtrf were about as old as Uncle Henryrf for two
of them had beards. But the little woman was doubtless much older. Her face was
covered with wrinklesrf her hair was nearly whiterf and she walked rather stiffly.
When these people drew near the house where Dorothy was standing in the doorwayrf
they paused and whispered among themselvesrf as if afraid to come farther. But the
little old woman walked up to Dorothyrf made a low bow and saidrf in a sweet
voice: “You are welcomerf most noble Sorceressrf to the land of the Munchkins. We
are so grateful to you for having killed the Wicked Witch of the Eastrf and for
setting our people free from bondage.” Dorothy listened to this speech with
wonder. What could the little woman possibly mean by calling her a sorceressrf and
saying she had killed the Wicked Witch of the East? Dorothy was an innocentrf
harmless little girlrf who had been carried by a cyclone many miles from home; and
she had never killed anything in
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all her life. But the little woman evidently expected her to answer; so Dorothy
saidrf with hesitationrf “You are very kindrf but there must be some mistake. I
have not killed anything.” “Your house didrf anywayrf” replied the little old
womanrf with a laughrf “and that is the same thing. See!” she continuedrf pointing
to the corner of the house. “There are her two feetrf still sticking out from
under a block of wood.” Dorothy lookedrf and gave a little cry of fright. Thererf
indeedrf just under the corner of the great beam the house rested onrf two feet
were sticking outrf shod in silver shoes with pointed toes. “Ohrf dear! Ohrf
dear!” cried Dorothyrf clasping her hands together in dismay. “The house must have
fallen on her. Whatever shall we do?” “There is nothing to be donerf” said the
little woman calmly. “But who was she?” asked Dorothy. “She was the Wicked Witch
of the Eastrf as I saidrf” answered the little woman. “She has held all the
Munchkins in bondage for many yearsrf making the

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m slave www.obooko.com 9 for her night and day. Now they are all set freerf and
are grateful to you for the favor.” “Who are the Munchkins?” inquired Dorothy.
“They are the people who live in this land of the East where the Wicked Witch
ruled.” “Are you a Munchkin?” asked Dorothy. “Norf but I am their friendrf
although I live in the land of the North. When they saw the Witch of the East was
dead the Munchkins sent a swift messenger to merf and I came at once. I am the
Witch of the North.” “Ohrf gracious!” cried Dorothy. “Are you a real witch?”
“Yesrf indeedrf” answered the little woman. “But I am a good witchrf and the
people love me. I am not as powerful as the Wicked Witch was who ruled hererf or I
should have set the people free myself.” “But I thought all witches were wickedrf”
said the girlrf who was half frightened at facing a real witch. “Ohrf norf that is
a great mistake. There were only four witches in all the Land of Ozrf and two of
themrf those who live in the North and th

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e Southrf are good witches. I know this is truerf for I am one of them myselfrf
and cannot be mistaken. Those who dwelt in the East and the West wererf indeedrf
wicked witches; but now that you have killed one of themrf there is but one Wicked
Witch in all the Land of Oz—the one who lives in the West.” “Butrf” said Dorothyrf
after a moment’s thoughtrf “Aunt Em has told me that the witches were all dead—
years and years ago.” “Who is Aunt Em?” inquired the little old woman. “She is my
aunt who lives in Kansasrf where I came from.” The Witch of the North seemed to
think for a timerf with her head bowed and her eyes upon the ground. Then she
looked up and saidrf “I do not know where Kansas isrf for I have never heard that
country mentioned before. But tell merf is it a civilized country?” “Ohrf yesrf”
replied Dorothy. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz 10 “Then that accounts for it. In the
civilized countries I believe there are no witches leftrf nor wizardsrf nor
sorceressesrf nor magicians. Butrf you
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seerf the Land of Oz has never been civilizedrf for we are cut off from all the
rest of the world. Therefore we still have witches and wizards amongst us.” “Who
are the wizards?” asked Dorothy. “Oz himself is the Great Wizardrf” answered the
Witchrf sinking her voice to a whisper. “He is more powerful than all the rest of
us together. He lives in the City of Emeralds.” Dorothy was going to ask another
questionrf but just then the Munchkinsrf who had been standing silently byrf gave
a loud shout and pointed to the corner of the house where the Wicked Witch had
been lying. “What is it?” asked the little old womanrf and lookedrf and began to
laugh. The feet of the dead Witch had disappeared entirelyrf and nothing was left
but the silver shoes. “She was so oldrf” explained the Witch of the Northrf “that
she dried up quickly in the sun. That is the end of her. But the silver shoes are
yoursrf and you shall have them to wear.” She reached down and picked up the
shoesrf and after shaking th

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e dust out of them handed them to Dorothy. “The Witch of the East was proud of
those silver shoesrf” said one of the Munchkinsrf “and there is some charm
connected with them; but what it is we never knew.” Dorothy carried the shoes
into the house and placed them on the table. Then she came out again to the
Munchkins and said: “I am anxious to get back to my aunt and unclerf for I am sure
they will worry about me. Can you help me find my way?” The Munchkins and the
Witch first looked at one anotherrf and then at Dorothyrf and then shook their
heads. “At the Eastrf not far from hererf” said onerf “there is a great desertrf
and none could live to cross it.” www.obooko.com 11 “It is the same at the
Southrf” said anotherrf “for I have been there and seen it. The South is the
country of the Quadlings.” “I am toldrf” said the third manrf “that it is the same
at the West. And that countryrf where the Winkies liverf is ruled by the Wicked
Witch of the Westrf who would make you her slave if you

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passed her way.” “The North is my homerf” said the old ladyrf “and at its edge is
the same great desert that surrounds this Land of Oz. I’m afraidrf my dearrf you
will have to live with us.” Dorothy began to sob at thisrf for she felt lonely
among all these strange people. Her tears seemed to grieve the kind-hearted
Munchkinsrf for they immediately took out their handkerchiefs and began to weep
also. As for the little old womanrf she took off her cap and balanced the point on
the end of her noserf while she counted “Onerf tworf three” in a solemn voice. At
once the cap changed to a slaterf on which was written in bigrf white chalk marks:
“LET DOROTHY GO TO THE CITY OF EMERALDS” The little old woman took the slate from
her noserf and having read the words on itrf askedrf “Is your name Dorothyrf my
dear?” “Yesrf” answered the childrf looking up and drying her tears. “Then you
must go to the City of Emeralds. Perhaps Oz will help you.” “Where is this city?”
asked Dorothy. “It is exactly in

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the center of the countryrf and is ruled by Ozrf the Great Wizard I told you of.”
“Is he a good man?” inquired the girl anxiously. “He is a good Wizard. Whether he
is a man or not I cannot tellrf for I have never seen him.” “How can I get
there?” asked Dorothy. “You must walk. It is a long journeyrf through a country
that is sometimes pleasant and sometimes dark and terrible. Howeverrf I will use
all the magic arts I know of to keep you from harm.” The Wonderful Wizard of Oz
12 “Won’t you go with me?” pleaded the girlrf who had begun to look upon the
little old woman as her only friend. “Norf I cannot do thatrf” she repliedrf “but
I will give you my kissrf and no one will dare injure a person who has been kissed
by the Witch of the North.” She came close to Dorothy and kissed her gently on the
forehead. Where her lips touched the girl they left a roundrf shining markrf as
Dorothy found out soon after. “The road to the City of Emeralds is paved with
yellow brickrf” said the Witchrf “

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so you cannot miss it. When you get to Oz do not be afraid of himrf but tell your
story and ask him to help you. Good-byerf my dear.” The three Munchkins bowed low
to her and wished her a pleasant journeyrf after which they walked away through
the trees. The Witch gave Dorothy a friendly little nodrf whirled around on her
left heel three timesrf and straightway disappearedrf much to the surprise of
little Totorf who barked after her loudly enough when she had gonerf because he
had been afraid even to growl while she stood by. But Dorothyrf knowing her to be
a witchrf had expected her to disappear in just that wayrf and was not surprised
in the least. Chapter 3 How Dorothy Saved the Scarecrow When Dorothy was left
alone she began to feel hungry. So she went to the cupboard and cut herself some
breadrf which she spread with butter. She gave some to Totorf and taking a pail
from the shelf she carried it down to the little brook and filled it with clearrf
sparkling water. Toto ran over to t

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he trees and began to bark at the birds sitting there. Dorothy went to get himrf
and saw such delicious www.obooko.com 13 fruit hanging from the branches that she
gathered some of itrf finding it just what she wanted to help out her breakfast.
Then she went back to the houserf and having helped herself and Toto to a good
drink of the coolrf clear waterrf she set about making ready for the journey to
the City of Emeralds. Dorothy had only one other dressrf but that happened to be
clean and was hanging on a peg beside her bed. It was ginghamrf with checks of
white and blue; and although the blue was somewhat faded with many washingsrf it
was still a pretty frock. The girl washed herself carefullyrf dressed herself in
the clean ginghamrf and tied her pink sunbonnet on her head. She took a little
basket and filled it with bread from the cupboardrf laying a white cloth over the
top. Then she looked down at her feet and noticed how old and worn her shoes were.
“They surely will never do f

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or a long journeyrf Totorf” she said. And Toto looked up into her face with his
little black eyes and wagged his tail to show he knew what she meant. At that
moment Dorothy saw lying on the table the silver shoes that had belonged to the
Witch of the East. “I wonder if they will fit merf” she said to Toto. “They would
be just the thing to take a long walk inrf for they could not wear out.” She took
off her old leather shoes and tried on the silver onesrf which fitted her as well
as if they had been made for her. Finally she picked up her basket. “Come alongrf
Totorf” she said. “We will go to the Emerald City and ask the Great Oz how to get
back to Kansas again.” She closed the doorrf locked itrf and put the key carefully
in the pocket of her dress. And sorf with Toto trotting along soberly behind herrf
she started on her journey. There were several roads nearbyrf but it did not take
her long to find the one paved with yellow bricks. Within a short time she was
walking briskly towar

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d the Emerald Cityrf her silver shoes tinkling merrily on the hardrf yellow road-
bed. The sun shone bright and the birds sang sweetlyrf and Dorothy did not feel
nearly so The Wonderful Wizard of Oz 14 bad as you might think a little girl would
who had been suddenly whisked away from her own country and set down in the midst
of a strange land. She was surprisedrf as she walked alongrf to see how pretty the
country was about her. There were neat fences at the sides of the roadrf painted a
dainty blue colorrf and beyond them were fields of grain and vegetables in
abundance. Evidently the Munchkins were good farmers and able to raise large
crops. Once in a while she would pass a houserf and the people came out to look at
her and bow low as she went by; for everyone knew she had been the means of
destroying the Wicked Witch and setting them free from bondage. The houses of the
Munchkins were odd-looking dwellingsrf for each was roundrf with a big dome for a
roof. All were painted bluerf f

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or in this country of the East blue was the favorite color. Toward eveningrf when
Dorothy was tired with her long walk and began to wonder where she should pass the
nightrf she came to a house rather larger than the rest. On the green lawn before
it many men and women were dancing. Five little fiddlers played as loudly as
possiblerf and the people were laughing and singingrf while a big table near by
was loaded with delicious fruits and nutsrf pies and cakesrf and many other good
things to eat. The people greeted Dorothy kindlyrf and invited her to supper and
to pass the night with them; for this was the home of one of the richest Munchkins
in the landrf and his friends were gathered with him to celebrate their freedom
from the bondage of the Wicked Witch. Dorothy ate a hearty supper and was waited
upon by the rich Munchkin himselfrf whose name was Boq. Then she sat upon a settee
and watched the people dance. When Boq saw her silver shoes he saidrf “You must
be a great sorceress.”

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“Why?” asked the girl. “Because you wear silver shoes and have killed the Wicked
Witch. Besidesrf you have white in your frockrf and only witches and sorceresses
wear white.” “My dress is blue and white checkedrf” said Dorothyrf smoothing out
the wrinkles in it. www.obooko.com 15 “It is kind of you to wear thatrf” said
Boq. “Blue is the color of the Munchkinsrf and white is the witch color. So we
know you are a friendly witch.” Dorothy did not know what to say to thisrf for all
the people seemed to think her a witchrf and she knew very well she was only an
ordinary little girl who had come by the chance of a cyclone into a strange land.
When she had tired watching the dancingrf Boq led her into the houserf where he
gave her a room with a pretty bed in it. The sheets were made of blue clothrf and
Dorothy slept soundly in them till morningrf with Toto curled up on the blue rug
beside her. She ate a hearty breakfastrf and watched a wee Munchkin babyrf who
played with Toto and pulled his

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tail and crowed and laughed in a way that greatly amused Dorothy. Toto was a fine
curiosity to all the peoplerf for they had never seen a dog before. “How far is
it to the Emerald City?” the girl asked. “I do not knowrf” answered Boq gravelyrf
“for I have never been there. It is better for people to keep away from Ozrf
unless they have business with him. But it is a long way to the Emerald Cityrf and
it will take you many days. The country here is rich and pleasantrf but you must
pass through rough and dangerous places before you reach the end of your journey.”
This worried Dorothy a littlerf but she knew that only the Great Oz could help her
get to Kansas againrf so she bravely resolved not to turn back. She bade her
friends good-byerf and again started along the road of yellow brick. When she had
gone several miles she thought she would stop to restrf and so climbed to the top
of the fence beside the road and sat down. There was a great cornfield beyond the
fencerf and not far awa

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y she saw a Scarecrowrf placed high on a pole to keep the birds from the ripe
corn. Dorothy leaned her chin upon her hand and gazed thoughtfully at the
Scarecrow. Its head was a small sack stuffed with strawrf with eyesrf noserf and
mouth painted on it to represent a face. An oldrf pointed blue hatrf that had
belonged to some Munchkinrf was perched on his headrf and the rest of the figure
was a blue suit of clothesrf worn and fadedrf which had also been stuffed with
straw. On the feet were some old boots with blue topsrf such as every man wore in
this The Wonderful Wizard of Oz 16 countryrf and the figure was raised above the
stalks of corn by means of the pole stuck up its back. While Dorothy was looking
earnestly into the queerrf painted face of the Scarecrowrf she was surprised to
see one of the eyes slowly wink at her. She thought she must have been mistaken at
firstrf for none of the scarecrows in Kansas ever wink; but presently the figure
nodded its head to her in a friendly way.

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Then she climbed down from the fence and walked up to itrf while Toto ran around
the pole and barked. “Good dayrf” said the Scarecrowrf in a rather husky voice.
“Did you speak?” asked the girlrf in wonder. “Certainlyrf” answered the Scarecrow.
“How do you do?” “I’m pretty wellrf thank yourf” replied Dorothy politely. “How do
you do?” “I’m not feeling wellrf” said the Scarecrowrf with a smilerf “for it is
very tedious being perched up here night and day to scare away crows.” “Can’t you
get down?” asked Dorothy. “Norf for this pole is stuck up my back. If you will
please take away the pole I shall be greatly obliged to you.” Dorothy reached up
both arms and lifted the figure off the polerf forrf being stuffed with strawrf it
was quite light. “Thank you very muchrf” said the Scarecrowrf when he had been set
down on the ground. “I feel like a new man.” Dorothy was puzzled at thisrf for it
sounded queer to hear a stuffed man speakrf and to see him bow and walk along
beside her. “Who are you?

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” asked the Scarecrow when he had stretched himself and yawned. “And where are you
going?” “My name is Dorothyrf” said the girlrf “and I am going to the Emerald
Cityrf to ask the Great Oz to send me back to Kansas.” “Where is the Emerald
City?” he inquired. “And who is Oz?” “Whyrf don’t you know?” she returnedrf in
surprise. www.obooko.com 17 “Norf indeed. I don’t know anything. You seerf I am
stuffedrf so I have no brains at allrf” he answered sadly. “Ohrf” said Dorothyrf
“I’m awfully sorry for you.” “Do you thinkrf” he askedrf “if I go to the Emerald
City with yourf that Oz would give me some brains?” “I cannot tellrf” she
returnedrf “but you may come with merf if you like. If Oz will not give you any
brains you will be no worse off than you are now.” “That is truerf” said the
Scarecrow. “You seerf” he continued confidentiallyrf “I don’t mind my legs and
arms and body being stuffedrf because I cannot get hurt. If anyone treads on my
toes or sticks a pin into merf it doesn’t matterrf for I ca

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n’t feel it. But I do not want people to call me a foolrf and if my head stays
stuffed with straw instead of with brainsrf as yours isrf how am I ever to know
anything?” “I understand how you feelrf” said the little girlrf who was truly
sorry for him. “If you will come with me I’ll ask Oz to do all he can for you.”
“Thank yourf” he answered gratefully. They walked back to the road. Dorothy helped
him over the fencerf and they started along the path of yellow brick for the
Emerald City. Toto did not like this addition to the party at first. He smelled
around the stuffed man as if he suspected there might be a nest of rats in the
strawrf and he often growled in an unfriendly way at the Scarecrow. “Don’t mind
Totorf” said Dorothy to her new friend. “He never bites.” “Ohrf I’m not afraidrf”
replied the Scarecrow. “He can’t hurt the straw. Do let me carry that basket for
you. I shall not mind itrf for I can’t get tired. I’ll tell you a secretrf” he
continuedrf as he walked along. “There is

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only one thing in the world I am afraid of.” “What is that?” asked Dorothy; “the
Munchkin farmer who made you?” “Norf” answered the Scarecrow; “it’s a lighted
match.” The Wonderful Wizard of Oz 18 Chapter 4 The Road Through the Forest After
a few hours the road began to be roughrf and the walking grew so difficult that
the Scarecrow often stumbled over the yellow bricksrf which were here very uneven.
Sometimesrf indeedrf they were broken or missing altogetherrf leaving holes that
Toto jumped across and Dorothy walked around. As for the Scarecrowrf having no
brainsrf he walked straight aheadrf and so stepped into the holes and fell at full
length on the hard bricks. It never hurt himrf howeverrf and Dorothy would pick
him up and set him upon his feet againrf while he joined her in laughing merrily
at his own mishap. The farms were not nearly so well cared for here as they were
farther back. There were fewer houses and fewer fruit treesrf and the farther they
went the more dismal and lo

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nesome the country became. At noon they sat down by the roadsiderf near a little
brookrf and Dorothy opened her basket and got out some bread. She offered a piece
to the Scarecrowrf but he refused. “I am never hungryrf” he saidrf “and it is a
lucky thing I am notrf for my mouth is only paintedrf and if I should cut a hole
in it so I could eatrf the straw I am stuffed with would come outrf and that would
spoil the shape of my head.” Dorothy saw at once that this was truerf so she only
nodded and went on eating her bread. “Tell me something about yourself and the
country you came fromrf” said the Scarecrowrf when she had finished her dinner. So
she told him all about Kansasrf and how gray everything was thererf and how the
cyclone had carried her to this queer Land of Oz. The Scarecrow listened
carefullyrf and saidrf “I cannot understand why you should wish to leave this
beautiful country and go back to the dryrf gray place you call Kansas.”
www.obooko.com 19 “That is because you have no

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brains” answered the girl. “No matter how dreary and gray our homes arerf we
people of flesh and blood would rather live there than in any other countryrf be
it ever so beautiful. There is no place like home.” The Scarecrow sighed. “Of
course I cannot understand itrf” he said. “If your heads were stuffed with strawrf
like minerf you would probably all live in the beautiful placesrf and then Kansas
would have no people at all. It is fortunate for Kansas that you have brains.”
“Won’t you tell me a storyrf while we are resting?” asked the child. The Scarecrow
looked at her reproachfullyrf and answered: “My life has been so short that I
really know nothing whatever. I was only made day before yesterday. What happened
in the world before that time is all unknown to me. Luckilyrf when the farmer made
my headrf one of the first things he did was to paint my earsrf so that I heard
what was going on. There was another Munchkin with himrf and the first thing I
heard was the farmer sayingrf ‘How

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do you like those ears?’ “‘They aren’t straightrf’” answered the other. “‘Never
mindrf’” said the farmer. “‘They are ears just the samerf’” which was true enough.
“‘Now I’ll make the eyesrf’” said the farmer. So he painted my right eyerf and as
soon as it was finished I found myself looking at him and at everything around me
with a great deal of curiosityrf for this was my first glimpse of the world.
“‘That’s a rather pretty eyerf’” remarked the Munchkin who was watching the
farmer. “‘Blue paint is just the color for eyes.’ “‘I think I’ll make the other a
little biggerrf’” said the farmer. And when the second eye was done I could see
much better than before. Then he made my nose and my mouth. But I did not speakrf
because at that time I didn’t know what a mouth was for. I had the fun of watching
them make my body and my arms and legs; and when they fastened on my headrf at
lastrf I felt very proudrf for I thought I was just as good a man as anyone. The
Wonderful Wizard of Oz 20 “‘

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This fellow will scare the crows fast enoughrf’ said the farmer. ‘He looks just
like a man.’ “‘Whyrf he is a manrf’ said the otherrf and I quite agreed with him.
The farmer carried me under his arm to the cornfieldrf and set me up on a tall
stickrf where you found me. He and his friend soon after walked away and left me
alone. “I did not like to be deserted this way. So I tried to walk after them. But
my feet would not touch the groundrf and I was forced to stay on that pole. It was
a lonely life to leadrf for I had nothing to think ofrf having been made such a
little while before. Many crows and other birds flew into the cornfieldrf but as
soon as they saw me they flew away againrf thinking I was a Munchkin; and this
pleased me and made me feel that I was quite an important person. By and by an old
crow flew near merf and after looking at me carefully he perched upon my shoulder
and said: “‘I wonder if that farmer thought to fool me in this clumsy manner. Any
crow of sense could see

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that you are only stuffed with straw.’ Then he hopped down at my feet and ate all
the corn he wanted. The other birdsrf seeing he was not harmed by merf came to eat
the corn toorf so in a short time there was a great flock of them about me. “I
felt sad at thisrf for it showed I was not such a good Scarecrow after all; but
the old crow comforted merf sayingrf ‘If you only had brains in your head you
would be as good a man as any of themrf and a better man than some of them. Brains
are the only things worth having in this worldrf no matter whether one is a crow
or a man.’ “After the crows had gone I thought this overrf and decided I would try
hard to get some brains. By good luck you came along and pulled me off the stakerf
and from what you say I am sure the Great Oz will give me brains as soon as we get
to the Emerald City.” “I hope sorf” said Dorothy earnestlyrf “since you seem
anxious to have them.” “Ohrf yes; I am anxiousrf” returned the Scarecrow. “It is
such an uncomfortable feel

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ing to know one is a fool.” “Wellrf” said the girlrf “let us go.” And she handed
the basket to the Scarecrow. www.obooko.com 21 There were no fences at all by the
roadside nowrf and the land was rough and untilled. Toward evening they came to a
great forestrf where the trees grew so big and close together that their branches
met over the road of yellow brick. It was almost dark under the treesrf for the
branches shut out the daylight; but the travelers did not stoprf and went on into
the forest. “If this road goes inrf it must come outrf” said the Scarecrowrf “and
as the Emerald City is at the other end of the roadrf we must go wherever it leads
us.” “Anyone would know thatrf” said Dorothy. “Certainly; that is why I know
itrf” returned the Scarecrow. “If it required brains to figure it outrf I never
should have said it.” After an hour or so the light faded awayrf and they found
themselves stumbling along in the darkness. Dorothy could not see at allrf but
Toto couldrf for some dogs see v
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im and squirrels. She sat up and looked around her. There was the Scarecrowrf
still standing patiently in his cornerrf waiting for her. “We must go and search
for waterrf” she said to him. “Why do you want water?” he asked. “To wash my face
clean after the dust of the roadrf and to drinkrf so the dry bread will not stick
in my throat.” “It must be inconvenient to be made of fleshrf” said the Scarecrow
thoughtfullyrf “for you must sleeprf and eat and drink. Howeverrf you have brainsrf
and it is worth a lot of bother to be able to think properly.” They left the
cottage and walked through the trees until they found a little spring of clear
waterrf where Dorothy drank and bathed and ate her breakfast. She saw there was
not much bread left in the basketrf and the girl was thankful the Scarecrow did
not have to eat anythingrf for there was scarcely enough for herself and Toto for
the day. When she had finished her mealrf and was about to go back to the road of
yellow brickrf she was startle

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d to hear a deep groan near by. “What was that?” she asked timidly. “I cannot
imaginerf” replied the Scarecrow; “but we can go and see.” Just then another groan
reached their earsrf and the sound seemed to come from behind them. They turned
and walked through the forest a few stepsrf when Dorothy discovered something
shining in a ray of sunshine that fell between the trees. She ran to the place and
then stopped shortrf with a little cry of surprise. One of the big trees had been
partly chopped throughrf and standing beside itrf with an uplifted axe in his
handsrf was a man made entirely of tin. His head and www.obooko.com 23 arms and
legs were jointed upon his bodyrf but he stood perfectly motionlessrf as if he
could not stir at all. Dorothy looked at him in amazementrf and so did the
Scarecrowrf while Toto barked sharply and made a snap at the tin legsrf which hurt
his teeth. “Did you groan?” asked Dorothy. “Yesrf” answered the tin manrf “I did.
I’ve been groaning for more than a yearrf

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and no one has ever heard me before or come to help me.” “What can I do for
you?” she inquired softlyrf for she was moved by the sad voice in which the man
spoke. “Get an oil-can and oil my jointsrf” he answered. “They are rusted so badly
that I cannot move them at all; if I am well oiled I shall soon be all right again.
You will find an oil-can on a shelf in my cottage.” Dorothy at once ran back to
the cottage and found the oil-canrf and then she returned and asked anxiouslyrf
“Where are your joints?” “Oil my neckrf firstrf” replied the Tin Woodman. So she
oiled itrf and as it was quite badly rusted the Scarecrow took hold of the tin
head and moved it gently from side to side until it worked freelyrf and then the
man could turn it himself. “Now oil the joints in my armsrf” he said. And Dorothy
oiled them and the Scarecrow bent them carefully until they were quite free from
rust and as good as new. The Tin Woodman gave a sigh of satisfaction and lowered
his axerf which he leaned
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against the tree. “This is a great comfortrf” he said. “I have been holding that
axe in the air ever since I rustedrf and I’m glad to be able to put it down at
last. Nowrf if you will oil the joints of my legsrf I shall be all right once
more.” So they oiled his legs until he could move them freely; and he thanked them
again and again for his releaserf for he seemed a very polite creaturerf and very
grateful. “I might have stood there always if you had not come alongrf” he said;
“so you have certainly saved my life. How did you happen to be here?” The
Wonderful Wizard of Oz 24 “We are on our way to the Emerald City to see the Great
Ozrf” she answeredrf “and we stopped at your cottage to pass the night.” “Why do
you wish to see Oz?” he asked. “I want him to send me back to Kansasrf and the
Scarecrow wants him to put a few brains into his headrf” she replied. The Tin
Woodman appeared to think deeply for a moment. Then he said: “Do you suppose Oz
could give me a heart?” “Whyrf I gues

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Dorothy was thinking so earnestly as they walked along that she did not notice
when the Scarecrow stumbled into a hole and rolled over to the side of the road.
Indeed he was obliged to call to her to help him up again. “Why didn’t you walk
around the hole?” asked the Tin Woodman. “I don’t know enoughrf” replied the
Scarecrow cheerfully. “My head is stuffed with strawrf you knowrf and that is why
I am going to Oz to ask him for some brains.” www.obooko.com 25 “Ohrf I seerf”
said the Tin Woodman. “Butrf after allrf brains are not the best things in the
world.” “Have you any?” inquired the Scarecrow. “Norf my head is quite emptyrf”
answered the Woodman. “But once I had brainsrf and a heart also; sorf having tried
them bothrf I should much rather have a heart.” “And why is that?” asked the
Scarecrow. “I will tell you my storyrf and then you will know.” Sorf while they
were walking through the forestrf the Tin Woodman told the following story: “I
was born the son of a woodman who chopped

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down trees in the forest and sold the wood for a living. When I grew uprf I too
became a woodchopperrf and after my father died I took care of my old mother as
long as she lived. Then I made up my mind that instead of living alone I would
marryrf so that I might not become lonely. “There was one of the Munchkin girls
who was so beautiful that I soon grew to love her with all my heart. Sherf on her
partrf promised to marry me as soon as I could earn enough money to build a better
house for her; so I set to work harder than ever. But the girl lived with an old
woman who did not want her to marry anyonerf for she was so lazy she wished the
girl to remain with her and do the cooking and the housework. So the old woman
went to the Wicked Witch of the Eastrf and promised her two sheep and a cow if she
would prevent the marriage. Thereupon the Wicked Witch enchanted my axerf and when
I was chopping away at my best one dayrf for I was anxious to get the new house
and my wife as soon as po
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ssiblerf the axe slipped all at once and cut off my left leg. “This at first
seemed a great misfortunerf for I knew a one-legged man could not do very well as
a wood-chopper. So I went to a tinsmith and had him make me a new leg out of tin.
The leg worked very wellrf once I was used to it. But my action angered the Wicked
Witch of the Eastrf for she had promised the old woman I should not marry the
pretty Munchkin girl. When I began chopping againrf my axe slipped and cut off my
right leg. Again I went to the tinsmithrf and again he made me a leg out of tin.
After this the enchanted axe cut off my armsrf one after the The Wonderful Wizard
of Oz 26 other; butrf nothing dauntedrf I had them replaced with tin ones. The
Wicked Witch then made the axe slip and cut off my headrf and at first I thought
that was the end of me. But the tinsmith happened to come alongrf and he made me a
new head out of tin. “I thought I had beaten the Wicked Witch thenrf and I worked
harder than ever; but I lit

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nger my joints had rustedrf and I was left to stand in the woods until you came to
help me. It was a terrible thing to undergorf but during the year I stood there I
had time to think that the greatest loss I had known was the loss of my heart.
While I was in love I was the happiest man on earth; but no one can love who has
not a heartrf and so I am resolved to ask Oz to give me one. If he doesrf I will
go back to the Munchkin maiden and marry her.” Both Dorothy and the Scarecrow had
been greatly interested in the story of the Tin Woodmanrf and now they knew why he
was so anxious to get a new heart. “All the samerf” said the Scarecrowrf “I shall
ask for brains instead of a heart; for a fool would not know what to do with a
heart if he had one.” “I shall take the heartrf” returned the Tin Woodman; “for
brains do not make one happyrf and happiness is the best thing in the world.”
Dorothy did not say anythingrf for she was puzzled to know which of her two
friends was rightrf and she dec

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ided if she could only get back to Kansas and Aunt www.obooko.com 27 Emrf it did
not matter so much whether the Woodman had no brains and the Scarecrow no heartrf
or each got what he wanted. What worried her most was that the bread was nearly
gonerf and another meal for herself and Toto would empty the basket. To be surerf
neither the Woodman nor the Scarecrow ever ate anythingrf but she was not made of
tin nor strawrf and could not live unless she was fed. Chapter 6 The Cowardly
Lion All this time Dorothy and her companions had been walking through the thick
woods. The road was still paved with yellow brickrf but these were much covered by
dried branches and dead leaves from the treesrf and the walking was not at all
good. There were few birds in this part of the forestrf for birds love the open
country where there is plenty of sunshine. But now and then there came a deep
growl from some wild animal hidden among the trees. These sounds made the little
girl’s heart beat fastrf for

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she did not know what made them; but Toto knewrf and he walked close to Dorothy’s
siderf and did not even bark in return. “How long will it berf” the child asked of
the Tin Woodmanrf “before we are out of the forest?” “I cannot tellrf” was the
answerrf “for I have never been to the Emerald City. But my father went there
oncerf when I was a boyrf and he said it was a long journey through a dangerous
countryrf although nearer to the city where Oz dwells the country is beautiful.
But I am not afraid so long as I have my oil-canrf and nothing can hurt the
Scarecrowrf while you bear upon your forehead the mark of the Good Witch’s kissrf
and that will protect you from harm.” “But Toto!” said the girl anxiously. “What
will protect him?” The Wonderful Wizard of Oz 28 “We must protect him ourselves if
he is in dangerrf” replied the Tin Woodman. Just as he spoke there came from the
forest a terrible roarrf and the next moment a great Lion bounded into the road.
With one blow of his paw he sent t

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he Scarecrow spinning over and over to the edge of the roadrf and then he struck
at the Tin Woodman with his sharp claws. Butrf to the Lion’s surpriserf he could
make no impression on the tinrf although the Woodman fell over in the road and lay
still. Little Totorf now that he had an enemy to facerf ran barking toward the
Lionrf and the great beast had opened his mouth to bite the dogrf when Dorothyrf
fearing Toto would be killedrf and heedless of dangerrf rushed forward and slapped
the Lion upon his nose as hard as she couldrf while she cried out: “Don’t you
dare to bite Toto! You ought to be ashamed of yourselfrf a big beast like yourf to
bite a poor little dog!” “I didn’t bite himrf” said the Lionrf as he rubbed his
nose with his paw where Dorothy had hit it. “Norf but you tried torf” she
retorted. “You are nothing but a big coward.” “I know itrf” said the Lionrf
hanging his head in shame. “I’ve always known it. But how can I help it?” “I
don’t knowrf I’m sure. To think of your striking a

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stuffed manrf like the poor Scarecrow!” “Is he stuffed?” asked the Lion in
surpriserf as he watched her pick up the Scarecrow and set him upon his feetrf
while she patted him into shape again. “Of course he’s stuffedrf” replied
Dorothyrf who was still angry. “That’s why he went over so easilyrf” remarked the
Lion. “It astonished me to see him whirl around so. Is the other one stuffed
also?” “Norf” said Dorothyrf “he’s made of tin.” And she helped the Woodman up
again. “That’s why he nearly blunted my clawsrf” said the Lion. “When they
scratched against the tin it made a cold shiver run down my back. What is that
little animal you are so tender of?” www.obooko.com 29 “He is my dogrf Totorf”
answered Dorothy. “Is he made of tinrf or stuffed?” asked the Lion. “Neither.
He’s a—a—a meat dogrf” said the girl. “Oh! He’s a curious animal and seems
remarkably smallrf now that I look at him. No one would think of biting such a
little thingrf except a coward like merf” continued the Lion sadly.

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“What makes you a coward?” asked Dorothyrf looking at the great beast in
wonderrf for he was as big as a small horse. “It’s a mysteryrf” replied the Lion.
“I suppose I was born that way. All the other animals in the forest naturally
expect me to be braverf for the Lion is everywhere thought to be the King of
Beasts. I learned that if I roared very loudly every living thing was frightened
and got out of my way. Whenever I’ve met a man I’ve been awfully scared; but I
just roared at himrf and he has always run away as fast as he could go. If the
elephants and the tigers and the bears had ever tried to fight merf I should have
run myself—I’m such a coward; but just as soon as they hear me roar they all try
to get away from merf and of course I let them go.” “But that isn’t right. The
King of Beasts shouldn’t be a cowardrf” said the Scarecrow. “I know itrf”
returned the Lionrf wiping a tear from his eye with the tip of his tail. “It is my
great sorrowrf and makes my life very unhappy. Bu

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t whenever there is dangerrf my heart begins to beat fast.” “Perhaps you have
heart diseaserf” said the Tin Woodman. “It may berf” said the Lion. “If you
haverf” continued the Tin Woodmanrf “you ought to be gladrf for it proves you have
a heart. For my partrf I have no heart; so I cannot have heart disease.”
“Perhapsrf” said the Lion thoughtfullyrf “if I had no heart I should not be a
coward.” “Have you brains?” asked the Scarecrow. “I suppose so. I’ve never looked
to seerf” replied the Lion. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz 30 “I am going to the Great
Oz to ask him to give me somerf” remarked the Scarecrowrf “for my head is stuffed
with straw.” “And I am going to ask him to give me a heartrf” said the Woodman.
“And I am going to ask him to send Toto and me back to Kansasrf” added Dorothy.
“Do you think Oz could give me courage?” asked the Cowardly Lion. “Just as easily
as he could give me brainsrf” said the Scarecrow. “Or give me a heartrf” said the
Tin Woodman. “Or send me back to Kansas

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rf” said Dorothy. “Thenrf if you don’t mindrf I’ll go with yourf” said the Lionrf
“for my life is simply unbearable without a bit of courage.” “You will be very
welcomerf” answered Dorothyrf “for you will help to keep away the other wild
beasts. It seems to me they must be more cowardly than you are if they allow you
to scare them so easily.” “They really arerf” said the Lionrf “but that doesn’t
make me any braverrf and as long as I know myself to be a coward I shall be
unhappy.” So once more the little company set off upon the journeyrf the Lion
walking with stately strides at Dorothy’s side. Toto did not approve of this new
comrade at firstrf for he could not forget how nearly he had been crushed between
the Lion’s great jaws. But after a time he became more at easerf and presently
Toto and the Cowardly Lion had grown to be good friends. During the rest of that
day there was no other adventure to mar the peace of their journey. Oncerf
indeedrf the Tin Woodman stepped upon a beetle tha

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t was crawling along the roadrf and killed the poor little thing. This made the
Tin Woodman very unhappyrf for he was always careful not to hurt any living
creature; and as he walked along he wept several tears of sorrow and regret. These
tears ran slowly down his face and over the hinges of his jawrf and there they
rusted. When Dorothy presently asked him a question the Tin Woodman could not open
his mouthrf for his jaws were tightly rusted together. He became greatly frightened
at this and made many motions to Dorothy to relieve himrf but she could not
www.obooko.com 31 understand. The Lion was also puzzled to know what was wrong. But
the Scarecrow seized the oil-can from Dorothy’s basket and oiled the Woodman’s
jawsrf so that after a few moments he could talk as well as before. “This will
serve me a lessonrf” said herf “to look where I step. For if I should kill another
bug or beetle I should surely cry againrf and crying rusts my jaws so that I
cannot speak.” Thereafter he wal

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ked very carefullyrf with his eyes on the roadrf and when he saw a tiny ant
toiling by he would step over itrf so as not to harm it. The Tin Woodman knew very
well he had no heartrf and therefore he took great care never to be cruel or
unkind to anything. “You people with heartsrf” he saidrf “have something to guide
yourf and need never do wrong; but I have no heartrf and so I must be very
careful. When Oz gives me a heart of course I needn’t mind so much.” Chapter 7
The Journey to the Great Oz They were obliged to camp out that night under a large
tree in the forestrf for there were no houses near. The tree made a goodrf thick
covering to protect them from the dewrf and the Tin Woodman chopped a great pile
of wood with his axe and Dorothy built a splendid fire that warmed her and made
her feel less lonely. She and Toto ate the last of their breadrf and now she did
not know what they would do for breakfast. “If you wishrf” said the Lionrf “I
will go into the forest and kill a deer for y

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ou. You can roast it by the firerf since your tastes are so peculiar that you
prefer cooked foodrf and then you will have a very good breakfast.” “Don’t!
Please don’trf” begged the Tin Woodman. “I should certainly weep if you killed a
poor deerrf and then my jaws would rust again.” The Wonderful Wizard of Oz 32 But
the Lion went away into the forest and found his own supperrf and no one ever knew
what it wasrf for he didn’t mention it. And the Scarecrow found a tree full of
nuts and filled Dorothy’s basket with themrf so that she would not be hungry for a
long time. She thought this was very kind and thoughtful of the Scarecrowrf but
she laughed heartily at the awkward way in which the poor creature picked up the
nuts. His padded hands were so clumsy and the nuts were so small that he dropped
almost as many as he put in the basket. But the Scarecrow did not mind how long it
took him to fill the basketrf for it enabled him to keep away from the firerf as
he feared a spark might get i

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nto his straw and burn him up. So he kept a good distance away from the flamesrf
and only came near to cover Dorothy with dry leaves when she lay down to sleep.
These kept her very snug and warmrf and she slept soundly until morning. When it
was daylightrf the girl bathed her face in a little rippling brookrf and soon
after they all started toward the Emerald City. This was to be an eventful day for
the travelers. They had hardly been walking an hour when they saw before them a
great ditch that crossed the road and divided the forest as far as they could see
on either side. It was a very wide ditchrf and when they crept up to the edge and
looked into it they could see it was also very deeprf and there were many bigrf
jagged rocks at the bottom. The sides were so steep that none of them could climb
downrf and for a moment it seemed that their journey must end. “What shall we
do?” asked Dorothy despairingly. “I haven’t the faintest idearf” said the Tin
Woodmanrf and the Lion shook hi

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s shaggy mane and looked thoughtful. But the Scarecrow saidrf “We cannot flyrf
that is certain. Neither can we climb down into this great ditch. Thereforerf if
we cannot jump over itrf we must stop where we are.” “I think I could jump over
itrf” said the Cowardly Lionrf after measuring the distance carefully in his mind.
“Then we are all rightrf” answered the Scarecrowrf “for you can carry us all over
on your backrf one at a time.” “Wellrf I’ll try itrf” said the Lion. “Who will go
first?” www.obooko.com 33 “I willrf” declared the Scarecrowrf “forrf if you found
that you could not jump over the gulfrf Dorothy would be killedrf or the Tin
Woodman badly dented on the rocks below. But if I am on your back it will not
matter so muchrf for the fall would not hurt me at all.” “I am terribly afraid of
fallingrf myselfrf” said the Cowardly Lionrf “but I suppose there is nothing to do
but try it. So get on my back and we will make the attempt.” The Scarecrow sat
upon the Lion’s backrf and the big b

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east walked to the edge of the gulf and crouched down. “Why don’t you run and
jump?” asked the Scarecrow. “Because that isn’t the way we Lions do these
thingsrf” he replied. Then giving a great springrf he shot through the air and
landed safely on the other side. They were all greatly pleased to see how easily
he did itrf and after the Scarecrow had got down from his back the Lion sprang
across the ditch again. Dorothy thought she would go next; so she took Toto in her
arms and climbed on the Lion’s backrf holding tightly to his mane with one hand.
The next moment it seemed as if she were flying through the air; and thenrf before
she had time to think about itrf she was safe on the other side. The Lion went
back a third time and got the Tin Woodmanrf and then they all sat down for a few
moments to give the beast a chance to restrf for his great leaps had made his
breath shortrf and he panted like a big dog that has been running too long. They
found the forest very thick on this si

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derf and it looked dark and gloomy. After the Lion had rested they started along
the road of yellow brickrf silently wonderingrf each in his own mindrf if ever
they would come to the end of the woods and reach the bright sunshine again. To
add to their discomfortrf they soon heard strange noises in the depths of the
forestrf and the Lion whispered to them that it was in this part of the country
that the Kalidahs lived. “What are the Kalidahs?” asked the girl. “They are
monstrous beasts with bodies like bears and heads like tigersrf” replied the
Lionrf “and with claws so long and sharp that they could tear me in two as easily
as I could kill Toto. I’m terribly afraid of the Kalidahs.” The Wonderful Wizard
of Oz 34 “I’m not surprised that you arerf” returned Dorothy. “They must be
dreadful beasts.” The Lion was about to reply when suddenly they came to another
gulf across the road. But this one was so broad and deep that the Lion knew at
once he could not leap across it. So they sa

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t down to consider what they should dorf and after serious thought the Scarecrow
said: “Here is a great treerf standing close to the ditch. If the Tin Woodman can
chop it downrf so that it will fall to the other siderf we can walk across it
easily.” “That is a first-rate idearf” said the Lion. “One would almost suspect
you had brains in your headrf instead of straw.” The Woodman set to work at
oncerf and so sharp was his axe that the tree was soon chopped nearly through.
Then the Lion put his strong front legs against the tree and pushed with all his
mightrf and slowly the big tree tipped and fell with a crash across the ditchrf
with its top branches on the other side. They had just started to cross this queer
bridge when a sharp growl made them all look uprf and to their horror they saw
running toward them two great beasts with bodies like bears and heads like tigers.
“They are the Kalidahs!” said the Cowardly Lionrf beginning to tremble. “Quick!”
cried the Scarecrow. “Let us cross

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over.” So Dorothy went firstrf holding Toto in her armsrf the Tin Woodman
followedrf and the Scarecrow came next. The Lionrf although he was certainly
afraidrf turned to face the Kalidahsrf and then he gave so loud and terrible a
roar that Dorothy screamed and the Scarecrow fell over backwardrf while even the
fierce beasts stopped short and looked at him in surprise. Butrf seeing they were
bigger than the Lionrf and remembering that there were two of them and only one of
himrf the Kalidahs again rushed forwardrf and the Lion crossed over the tree and
turned to see what they would do next. Without stopping an instant the fierce
beasts also began to cross the tree. And the Lion said to Dorothy: www.obooko.com
35 “We are lostrf for they will surely tear us to pieces with their sharp claws.
But stand close behind merf and I will fight them as long as I am alive.” “Wait a
minute!” called the Scarecrow. He had been thinking what was best to be donerf and
now he asked the Woodman to chop awa

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y the end of the tree that rested on their side of the ditch. The Tin Woodman
began to use his axe at oncerf andrf just as the two Kalidahs were nearly acrossrf
the tree fell with a crash into the gulfrf carrying the uglyrf snarling brutes
with itrf and both were dashed to pieces on the sharp rocks at the bottom.
“Wellrf” said the Cowardly Lionrf drawing a long breath of reliefrf “I see we are
going to live a little while longerrf and I am glad of itrf for it must be a very
uncomfortable thing not to be alive. Those creatures frightened me so badly that
my heart is beating yet.” “Ahrf” said the Tin Woodman sadlyrf “I wish I had a
heart to beat.” This adventure made the travelers more anxious than ever to get
out of the forestrf and they walked so fast that Dorothy became tiredrf and had to
ride on the Lion’s back. To their great joy the trees became thinner the farther
they advancedrf and in the afternoon they suddenly came upon a broad riverrf
flowing swiftly just before them. On the oth

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er side of the water they could see the road of yellow brick running through a
beautiful countryrf with green meadows dotted with bright flowers and all the road
bordered with trees hanging full of delicious fruits. They were greatly pleased to
see this delightful country before them. “How shall we cross the river?” asked
Dorothy. “That is easily donerf” replied the Scarecrow. “The Tin Woodman must
build us a raftrf so we can float to the other side.” So the Woodman took his axe
and began to chop down small trees to make a raftrf and while he was busy at this
the Scarecrow found on the riverbank a tree full of fine fruit. This pleased
Dorothyrf who had eaten nothing but nuts all dayrf and she made a hearty meal of
the ripe fruit. But it takes time to make a raftrf even when one is as industrious
and untiring as the Tin Woodmanrf and when night came the work was not done. So
they found a cozy place under the trees where they slept well until the morning;
The Wonderful Wizard of Oz

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36 and Dorothy dreamed of the Emerald Cityrf and of the good Wizard Ozrf who would
soon send her back to her own home again. Chapter 8 The Deadly Poppy Field Our
little party of travelers awakened the next morning refreshed and full of hoperf
and Dorothy breakfasted like a princess off peaches and plums from the trees
beside the river. Behind them was the dark forest they had passed safely throughrf
although they had suffered many discouragements; but before them was a lovelyrf
sunny country that seemed to beckon them on to the Emerald City. To be surerf the
broad river now cut them off from this beautiful land. But the raft was nearly
donerf and after the Tin Woodman had cut a few more logs and fastened them
together with wooden pinsrf they were ready to start. Dorothy sat down in the
middle of the raft and held Toto in her arms. When the Cowardly Lion stepped upon
the raft it tipped badlyrf for he was big and heavy; but the Scarecrow and the Tin
Woodman stood upon the other end t

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o steady itrf and they had long poles in their hands to push the raft through the
water. They got along quite well at firstrf but when they reached the middle of
the river the swift current swept the raft downstreamrf farther and farther away
from the road of yellow brick. And the water grew so deep that the long poles
would not touch the bottom. “This is badrf” said the Tin Woodmanrf “for if we
cannot get to the land we shall be carried into the country of the Wicked Witch of
the Westrf and she will enchant us and make us her slaves.” “And then I should
get no brainsrf” said the Scarecrow. “And I should get no couragerf” said the
Cowardly Lion. “And I should get no heartrf” said the Tin Woodman. www.obooko.com
37 “And I should never get back to Kansasrf” said Dorothy. “We must certainly get
to the Emerald City if we canrf” the Scarecrow continuedrf and he pushed so hard
on his long pole that it stuck fast in the mud at the bottom of the river. Thenrf
before he could pull it out agai

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n—or let go—the raft was swept awayrf and the poor Scarecrow was left clinging to
the pole in the middle of the river. “Good-bye!” he called after themrf and they
were very sorry to leave him. Indeedrf the Tin Woodman began to cryrf but
fortunately remembered that he might rustrf and so dried his tears on Dorothy’s
apron. Of course this was a bad thing for the Scarecrow. “I am now worse off than
when I first met Dorothyrf” he thought. “Thenrf I was stuck on a pole in a
cornfieldrf where I could make-believe scare the crowsrf at any rate. But surely
there is no use for a Scarecrow stuck on a pole in the middle of a river. I am
afraid I shall never have any brainsrf after all!” Down the stream the raft
floatedrf and the poor Scarecrow was left far behind. Then the Lion said:
“Something must be done to save us. I think I can swim to the shore and pull the
raft after merf if you will only hold fast to the tip of my tail.” So he sprang
into the waterrf and the Tin Woodman caught fast hold

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of his tail. Then the Lion began to swim with all his might toward the shore. It
was hard workrf although he was so big; but by and by they were drawn out of the
currentrf and then Dorothy took the Tin Woodman’s long pole and helped push the
raft to the land. They were all tired out when they reached the shore at last and
stepped off upon the pretty green grassrf and they also knew that the stream had
carried them a long way past the road of yellow brick that led to the Emerald
City. “What shall we do now?” asked the Tin Woodmanrf as the Lion lay down on the
grass to let the sun dry him. “We must get back to the roadrf in some wayrf” said
Dorothy. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz 38 “The best plan will be to walk along the
riverbank until we come to the road againrf” remarked the Lion. Sorf when they
were restedrf Dorothy picked up her basket and they started along the grassy
bankrf to the road from which the river had carried them. It was a lovely
countryrf with plenty of flowers and fr

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uit trees and sunshine to cheer themrf and had they not felt so sorry for the poor
Scarecrowrf they could have been very happy. They walked along as fast as they
couldrf Dorothy only stopping once to pick a beautiful flower; and after a time
the Tin Woodman cried out: “Look!” Then they all looked at the river and saw the
Scarecrow perched upon his pole in the middle of the waterrf looking very lonely
and sad. “What can we do to save him?” asked Dorothy. The Lion and the Woodman
both shook their headsrf for they did not know. So they sat down upon the bank and
gazed wistfully at the Scarecrow until a Stork flew byrf whorf upon seeing themrf
stopped to rest at the water’s edge. “Who are you and where are you going?” asked
the Stork. “I am Dorothyrf” answered the girlrf “and these are my friendsrf the
Tin Woodman and the Cowardly Lion; and we are going to the Emerald City.” “This
isn’t the roadrf” said the Storkrf as she twisted her long neck and looked sharply
at the queer party. “I k
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now itrf” returned Dorothyrf “but we have lost the Scarecrowrf and are wondering
how we shall get him again.” “Where is he?” asked the Stork. “Over there in the
riverrf” answered the little girl. “If he wasn’t so big and heavy I would get him
for yourf” remarked the Stork. “He isn’t heavy a bitrf” said Dorothy eagerlyrf
“for he is stuffed with straw; and if you will bring him back to usrf we shall
thank you ever and ever so much.” “Wellrf I’ll tryrf” said the Storkrf “but if I
find he is too heavy to carry I shall have to drop him in the river again.”
www.obooko.com 39 So the big bird flew into the air and over the water till she
came to where the Scarecrow was perched upon his pole. Then the Stork with her
great claws grabbed the Scarecrow by the arm and carried him up into the air and
back to the bankrf where Dorothy and the Lion and the Tin Woodman and Toto were
sitting. When the Scarecrow found himself among his friends againrf he was so
happy that he hugged them allrf even the Lio

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n and Toto; and as they walked along he sang “Tol-de-ri-de-oh!” at every steprf he
felt so gay. “I was afraid I should have to stay in the river foreverrf” he saidrf
“but the kind Stork saved merf and if I ever get any brains I shall find the Stork
again and do her some kindness in return.” “That’s all rightrf” said the Storkrf
who was flying along beside them. “I always like to help anyone in trouble. But I
must go nowrf for my babies are waiting in the nest for me. I hope you will find
the Emerald City and that Oz will help you.” “Thank yourf” replied Dorothyrf and
then the kind Stork flew into the air and was soon out of sight. They walked
along listening to the singing of the brightly colored birds and looking at the
lovely flowers which now became so thick that the ground was carpeted with them.
There were big yellow and white and blue and purple blossomsrf besides great
clusters of scarlet poppiesrf which were so brilliant in color they almost dazzled
Dorothy’s eyes. “Aren’t

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they beautiful?” the girl askedrf as she breathed in the spicy scent of the bright
flowers. “I suppose sorf” answered the Scarecrow. “When I have brainsrf I shall
probably like them better.” “If I only had a heartrf I should love themrf” added
the Tin Woodman. “I always did like flowersrf” said the Lion. “They seem so
helpless and frail. But there are none in the forest so bright as these.” They
now came upon more and more of the big scarlet poppiesrf and fewer and fewer of
the other flowers; and soon they found themselves in the midst of a great meadow
of poppies. Now it is well known that when there are many of these flowers
together their odor is so powerful that anyone who breathes it falls The Wonderful
Wizard of Oz 40 asleeprf and if the sleeper is not carried away from the scent of
the flowersrf he sleeps on and on forever. But Dorothy did not know thisrf nor
could she get away from the bright red flowers that were everywhere about; so
presently her eyes grew heavy and she f
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elt she must sit down to rest and to sleep. But the Tin Woodman would not let her
do this. “We must hurry and get back to the road of yellow brick before darkrf” he
said; and the Scarecrow agreed with him. So they kept walking until Dorothy could
stand no longer. Her eyes closed in spite of herself and she forgot where she was
and fell among the poppiesrf fast asleep. “What shall we do?” asked the Tin
Woodman. “If we leave her here she will dierf” said the Lion. “The smell of the
flowers is killing us all. I myself can scarcely keep my eyes openrf and the dog
is asleep already.” It was true; Toto had fallen down beside his little mistress.
But the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodmanrf not being made of fleshrf were not
troubled by the scent of the flowers. “Run fastrf” said the Scarecrow to the
Lionrf “and get out of this deadly flower bed as soon as you can. We will bring
the little girl with usrf but if you should fall asleep you are too big to be
carried.” So the Lion aroused himse

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lf and bounded forward as fast as he could go. In a moment he was out of sight.
“Let us make a chair with our hands and carry herrf” said the Scarecrow. So they
picked up Toto and put the dog in Dorothy’s laprf and then they made a chair with
their hands for the seat and their arms for the arms and carried the sleeping girl
between them through the flowers. On and on they walkedrf and it seemed that the
great carpet of deadly flowers that surrounded them would never end. They followed
the bend of the riverrf and at last came upon their friend the Lionrf lying fast
asleep among the poppies. The flowers had been too strong for the huge beast and
he had given up at lastrf and fallen only a short distance from the end of the
poppy bedrf where the sweet grass spread in beautiful green fields before them.
www.obooko.com 41 “We can do nothing for himrf” said the Tin Woodmanrf sadly; “for
he is much too heavy to lift. We must leave him here to sleep on foreverrf and
perhaps he will dream t

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hat he has found courage at last.” “I’m sorryrf” said the Scarecrow. “The Lion was
a very good comrade for one so cowardly. But let us go on.” They carried the
sleeping girl to a pretty spot beside the riverrf far enough from the poppy field
to prevent her breathing any more of the poison of the flowersrf and here they
laid her gently on the soft grass and waited for the fresh breeze to waken her.
Chapter 9 The Queen of the Field Mice “We cannot be far from the road of yellow
brickrf nowrf” remarked the Scarecrowrf as he stood beside the girlrf “for we have
come nearly as far as the river carried us away.” The Tin Woodman was about to
reply when he heard a low growlrf and turning his head (which worked beautifully
on hinges) he saw a strange beast come bounding over the grass toward them. It
wasrf indeedrf a great yellow Wildcatrf and the Woodman thought it must be chasing
somethingrf for its ears were lying close to its head and its mouth was wide
openrf showing two rows of ugly teet
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hrf while its red eyes glowed like balls of fire. As it came nearer the Tin
Woodman saw that running before the beast was a little gray field mouserf and
although he had no heart he knew it was wrong for the Wildcat to try to kill such
a prettyrf harmless creature. So the Woodman raised his axerf and as the Wildcat
ran by he gave it a quick blow that cut the beast’s head clean off from its bodyrf
and it rolled over at his feet in two pieces. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz 42 The
field mouserf now that it was freed from its enemyrf stopped short; and coming
slowly up to the Woodman it saidrf in a squeaky little voice: “Ohrf thank you!
Thank you ever so much for saving my life.” “Don’t speak of itrf I beg of yourf”
replied the Woodman. “I have no heartrf you knowrf so I am careful to help all
those who may need a friendrf even if it happens to be only a mouse.” “Only a
mouse!” cried the little animalrf indignantly. “Whyrf I am a Queen— the Queen of
all the Field Mice!” “Ohrf indeedrf” said the

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Woodmanrf making a bow. “Therefore you have done a great deedrf as well as a brave
onerf in saving my liferf” added the Queen. At that moment several mice were seen
running up as fast as their little legs could carry themrf and when they saw their
Queen they exclaimed: “Ohrf your Majestyrf we thought you would be killed! How did
you manage to escape the great Wildcat?” They all bowed so low to the little Queen
that they almost stood upon their heads. “This funny tin manrf” she answeredrf
“killed the Wildcat and saved my life. So hereafter you must all serve himrf and
obey his slightest wish.” “We will!” cried all the micerf in a shrill chorus. And
then they scampered in all directionsrf for Toto had awakened from his sleeprf and
seeing all these mice around him he gave one bark of delight and jumped right into
the middle of the group. Toto had always loved to chase mice when he lived in
Kansasrf and he saw no harm in it. But the Tin Woodman caught the dog in his arms
and held him tigh

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“this Lion is a coward.” “Really?” asked the Mouse. “He says so himselfrf”
answered the Scarecrowrf “and he would never hurt anyone who is our friend. If you
will help us to save him I promise that he shall treat you all with kindness.”
“Very wellrf” said the Queenrf “we trust you. But what shall we do?” “Are there
many of these mice which call you Queen and are willing to obey you?” “Ohrf yes;
there are thousandsrf” she replied. “Then send for them all to come here as soon
as possiblerf and let each one bring a long piece of string.” The Queen turned to
the mice that attended her and told them to go at once and get all her people. As
soon as they heard her orders they ran away in every direction as fast as
possible. “Nowrf” said the Scarecrow to the Tin Woodmanrf “you must go to those
trees by the riverside and make a truck that will carry the Lion.” So the Woodman
went at once to the trees and began to work; and he soon made a truck out of the
limbs of treesrf from which he c

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hopped away all the leaves and branches. He fastened it together with wooden pegs
and made the four wheels out of short pieces of a big tree trunk. So fast and so
well did he work that by the time the mice began to arrive the truck was all ready
for them. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz 44 They came from all directionsrf and there
were thousands of them: big mice and little mice and middle-sized mice; and each
one brought a piece of string in his mouth. It was about this time that Dorothy
woke from her long sleep and opened her eyes. She was greatly astonished to find
herself lying upon the grassrf with thousands of mice standing around and looking
at her timidly. But the Scarecrow told her about everythingrf and turning to the
dignified little Mouserf he said: “Permit me to introduce to you her Majestyrf
the Queen.” Dorothy nodded gravely and the Queen made a curtsyrf after which she
became quite friendly with the little girl. The Scarecrow and the Woodman now
began to fasten the m

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ice to the truckrf using the strings they had brought. One end of a string was
tied around the neck of each mouse and the other end to the truck. Of course the
truck was a thousand times bigger than any of the mice who were to draw it; but
when all the mice had been harnessedrf they were able to pull it quite easily.
Even the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman could sit on itrf and were drawn swiftly by
their queer little horses to the place where the Lion lay asleep. After a great
deal of hard workrf for the Lion was heavyrf they managed to get him up on the
truck. Then the Queen hurriedly gave her people the order to startrf for she
feared if the mice stayed among the poppies too long they also would fall asleep.
At first the little creaturesrf many though they wererf could hardly stir the
heavily loaded truck; but the Woodman and the Scarecrow both pushed from behindrf
and they got along better. Soon they rolled the Lion out of the poppy bed to the
green fieldsrf where he could breat

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he the sweetrf fresh air againrf instead of the poisonous scent of the flowers.
Dorothy came to meet them and thanked the little mice warmly for saving her
companion from death. She had grown so fond of the big Lion she was glad he had
been rescued. Then the mice were unharnessed from the truck and scampered away
through the grass to their homes. The Queen of the Mice was the last to leave.
www.obooko.com 45 “If ever you need us againrf” she saidrf “come out into the field
and callrf and we shall hear you and come to your assistance. Good-bye!” “Good-
bye!” they all answeredrf and away the Queen ranrf while Dorothy held Toto tightly
lest he should run after her and frighten her. After this they sat down beside the
Lion until he should awaken; and the Scarecrow brought Dorothy some fruit from a
tree near byrf which she ate for her dinner. Chapter 10 The Guardian of the Gate
It was some time before the Cowardly Lion awakenedrf for he had lain among the
poppies a long whilerf breathin

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g in their deadly fragrance; but when he did open his eyes and roll off the truck
he was very glad to find himself still alive. “I ran as fast as I couldrf” he
saidrf sitting down and yawningrf “but the flowers were too strong for me. How did
you get me out?” Then they told him of the field micerf and how they had
generously saved him from death; and the Cowardly Lion laughedrf and said: “I
have always thought myself very big and terrible; yet such little things as
flowers came near to killing merf and such small animals as mice have saved my
life. How strange it all is! Butrf comradesrf what shall we do now?” “We must
journey on until we find the road of yellow brick againrf” said Dorothyrf “and
then we can keep on to the Emerald City.” Sorf the Lion being fully refreshedrf
and feeling quite himself againrf they all started upon the journeyrf greatly
enjoying the walk through the softrf fresh grass; and it was not long before they
reached the road of yellow brick and turned again towar

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d the Emerald City where the Great Oz dwelt. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz 46 The
road was smooth and well pavedrf nowrf and the country about was beautifulrf so
that the travelers rejoiced in leaving the forest far behindrf and with it the
many dangers they had met in its gloomy shades. Once more they could see fences
built beside the road; but these were painted greenrf and when they came to a
small houserf in which a farmer evidently livedrf that also was painted green.
They passed by several of these houses during the afternoonrf and sometimes people
came to the doors and looked at them as if they would like to ask questions; but
no one came near them nor spoke to them because of the great Lionrf of which they
were very much afraid. The people were all dressed in clothing of a lovely
emerald-green color and wore peaked hats like those of the Munchkins. “This must
be the Land of Ozrf” said Dorothyrf “and we are surely getting near the Emerald
City.” “Yesrf” answered the Scarecrow. “Ev

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erything is green hererf while in the country of the Munchkins blue was the
favorite color. But the people do not seem to be as friendly as the Munchkinsrf
and I’m afraid we shall be unable to find a place to pass the night.” “I should
like something to eat besides fruitrf” said the girlrf “and I’m sure Toto is
nearly starved. Let us stop at the next house and talk to the people.” Sorf when
they came to a good-sized farmhouserf Dorothy walked boldly up to the door and
knocked. A woman opened it just far enough to look outrf and saidrf “What do you
wantrf childrf and why is that great Lion with you?” “We wish to pass the night
with yourf if you will allow usrf” answered Dorothy; “and the Lion is my friend
and comraderf and would not hurt you for the world.” “Is he tame?” asked the
womanrf opening the door a little wider. “Ohrf yesrf” said the girlrf “and he is a
great cowardrf too. He will be more afraid of you than you are of him.” “Wellrf”
said the womanrf after thinking it over and taking

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another peep at the Lionrf “if that is the case you may come inrf and I will give
you some supper and a place to sleep.” www.obooko.com 47 So they all entered the
houserf where there wererf besides the womanrf two children and a man. The man had
hurt his legrf and was lying on the couch in a corner. They seemed greatly
surprised to see so strange a companyrf and while the woman was busy laying the
table the man asked: “Where are you all going?” “To the Emerald Cityrf” said
Dorothyrf “to see the Great Oz.” “Ohrf indeed!” exclaimed the man. “Are you sure
that Oz will see you?” “Why not?” she replied. “Whyrf it is said that he never
lets anyone come into his presence. I have been to the Emerald City many timesrf
and it is a beautiful and wonderful place; but I have never been permitted to see
the Great Ozrf nor do I know of any living person who has seen him.” “Does he
never go out?” asked the Scarecrow. “Never. He sits day after day in the great
Throne Room of his Palacerf and even t

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hose who wait upon him do not see him face to face.” “What is he like?” asked the
girl. “That is hard to tellrf” said the man thoughtfully. “You seerf Oz is a Great
Wizardrf and can take on any form he wishes. So that some say he looks like a bird;
and some say he looks like an elephant; and some say he looks like a cat. To others
he appears as a beautiful fairyrf or a brownierf or in any other form that pleases
him. But who the real Oz isrf when he is in his own formrf no living person can
tell.” “That is very strangerf” said Dorothyrf “but we must tryrf in some wayrf to
see himrf or we shall have made our journey for nothing.” “Why do you wish to see
the terrible Oz?” asked the man. “I want him to give me some brainsrf” said the
Scarecrow eagerly. “Ohrf Oz could do that easily enoughrf” declared the man. “He
has more brains than he needs.” “And I want him to give me a heartrf” said the
Tin Woodman. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz 48 “That will not trouble himrf” continued
the manrf “for Oz ha

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s a large collection of heartsrf of all sizes and shapes.” “And I want him to
give me couragerf” said the Cowardly Lion. “Oz keeps a great pot of courage in his
Throne Roomrf” said the manrf “which he has covered with a golden platerf to keep
it from running over. He will be glad to give you some.” “And I want him to send
me back to Kansasrf” said Dorothy. “Where is Kansas?” asked the manrf with
surprise. “I don’t knowrf” replied Dorothy sorrowfullyrf “but it is my homerf and
I’m sure it’s somewhere.” “Very likely. Wellrf Oz can do anything; so I suppose
he will find Kansas for you. But first you must get to see himrf and that will be
a hard task; for the Great Wizard does not like to see anyonerf and he usually has
his own way. But what do YOU want?” he continuedrf speaking to Toto. Toto only
wagged his tail; forrf strange to sayrf he could not speak. The woman now called
to them that supper was readyrf so they gathered around the table and Dorothy ate
some delicious porridge and a dis

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h of scrambled eggs and a plate of nice white breadrf and enjoyed her meal. The
Lion ate some of the porridgerf but did not care for itrf saying it was made from
oats and oats were food for horsesrf not for lions. The Scarecrow and the Tin
Woodman ate nothing at all. Toto ate a little of everythingrf and was glad to get
a good supper again. The woman now gave Dorothy a bed to sleep inrf and Toto lay
down beside herrf while the Lion guarded the door of her room so she might not be
disturbed. The Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman stood up in a corner and kept quiet
all nightrf although of course they could not sleep. The next morningrf as soon
as the sun was uprf they started on their wayrf and soon saw a beautiful green
glow in the sky just before them. “That must be the Emerald Cityrf” said Dorothy.
As they walked onrf the green glow became brighter and brighterrf and it seemed
that at last they were nearing the end of their travels. Yet it was afternoon
www.obooko.com 49 before they came

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to the great wall that surrounded the City. It was high and thick and of a bright
green color. In front of themrf and at the end of the road of yellow brickrf was a
big gaterf all studded with emeralds that glittered so in the sun that even the
painted eyes of the Scarecrow were dazzled by their brilliancy. There was a bell
beside the gaterf and Dorothy pushed the button and heard a silvery tinkle sound
within. Then the big gate swung slowly openrf and they all passed through and
found themselves in a high arched roomrf the walls of which glistened with
countless emeralds. Before them stood a little man about the same size as the
Munchkins. He was clothed all in greenrf from his head to his feetrf and even his
skin was of a greenish tint. At his side was a large green box. When he saw
Dorothy and her companions the man askedrf “What do you wish in the Emerald City?”
“We came here to see the Great Ozrf” said Dorothy. The man was so surprised at
this answer that he sat down to think

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it over. “It has been many years since anyone asked me to see Ozrf” he saidrf
shaking his head in perplexity. “He is powerful and terriblerf and if you come on
an idle or foolish errand to bother the wise reflections of the Great Wizardrf he
might be angry and destroy you all in an instant.” “But it is not a foolish
errandrf nor an idle onerf” replied the Scarecrow; “it is important. And we have
been told that Oz is a good Wizard.” “So he isrf” said the green manrf “and he
rules the Emerald City wisely and well. But to those who are not honestrf or who
approach him from curiosityrf he is most terriblerf and few have ever dared ask to
see his face. I am the Guardian of the Gatesrf and since you demand to see the
Great Oz I must take you to his Palace. But first you must put on the spectacles.”
“Why?” asked Dorothy. “Because if you did not wear spectacles the brightness and
glory of the Emerald City would blind you. Even those who live in the City must
wear The Wonderful Wizard of Oz

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50 spectacles night and day. They are all locked onrf for Oz so ordered it when the
City was first builtrf and I have the only key that will unlock them.” He opened
the big boxrf and Dorothy saw that it was filled with spectacles of every size and
shape. All of them had green glasses in them. The Guardian of the Gates found a
pair that would just fit Dorothy and put them over her eyes. There were two golden
bands fastened to them that passed around the back of her headrf where they were
locked together by a little key that was at the end of a chain the Guardian of the
Gates wore around his neck. When they were onrf Dorothy could not take them off
had she wishedrf but of course she did not wish to be blinded by the glare of the
Emerald Cityrf so she said nothing. Then the green man fitted spectacles for the
Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman and the Lionrf and even on little Toto; and all were
locked fast with the key. Then the Guardian of the Gates put on his own glasses
and told them

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he was ready to show them to the Palace. Taking a big golden key from a peg on the
wallrf he opened another gaterf and they all followed him through the portal into
the streets of the Emerald City. Chapter 11 The Wonderful City of Oz Even with
eyes protected by the green spectaclesrf Dorothy and her friends were at first
dazzled by the brilliancy of the wonderful City. The streets were lined with
beautiful houses all built of green marble and studded everywhere with sparkling
emeralds. They walked over a pavement of the same green marblerf and where the
blocks were joined together were rows of emeraldsrf set closelyrf and glittering
in the brightness of the sun. The window panes were of green glass; even the sky
above the City had a green tintrf and the rays of the sun were green.
www.obooko.com 51 There were many people—menrf womenrf and children—walking aboutrf
and these were all dressed in green clothes and had greenish skins. They looked at
Dorothy and her strangely assorted com

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pany with wondering eyesrf and the children all ran away and hid behind their
mothers when they saw the Lion; but no one spoke to them. Many shops stood in the
streetrf and Dorothy saw that everything in them was green. Green candy and green
pop corn were offered for salerf as well as green shoesrf green hatsrf and green
clothes of all sorts. At one place a man was selling green lemonaderf and when the
children bought it Dorothy could see that they paid for it with green pennies.
There seemed to be no horses nor animals of any kind; the men carried things
around in little green cartsrf which they pushed before them. Everyone seemed
happy and contented and prosperous. The Guardian of the Gates led them through the
streets until they came to a big buildingrf exactly in the middle of the Cityrf
which was the Palace of Ozrf the Great Wizard. There was a soldier before the
doorrf dressed in a green uniform and wearing a long green beard. “Here are
strangersrf” said the Guardian of the Gat

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es to himrf “and they demand to see the Great Oz.” “Step insiderf” answered the
soldierrf “and I will carry your message to him.” So they passed through the
Palace Gates and were led into a big room with a green carpet and lovely green
furniture set with emeralds. The soldier made them all wipe their feet upon a
green mat before entering this roomrf and when they were seated he said politely:
“Please make yourselves comfortable while I go to the door of the Throne Room and
tell Oz you are here.” They had to wait a long time before the soldier returned.
Whenrf at lastrf he came backrf Dorothy asked: “Have you seen Oz?” “Ohrf norf”
returned the soldier; “I have never seen him. But I spoke to him as he sat behind
his screen and gave him your message. He said he will grant you an audiencerf if
you so desire; but each one of you must enter his presence alonerf and The
Wonderful Wizard of Oz 52 he will admit but one each day. Thereforerf as you must
remain in the Palace for several daysrf

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I will have you shown to rooms where you may rest in comfort after your journey.”
“Thank yourf” replied the girl; “that is very kind of Oz.” The soldier now blew
upon a green whistlerf and at once a young girlrf dressed in a pretty green silk
gownrf entered the room. She had lovely green hair and green eyesrf and she bowed
low before Dorothy as she saidrf “Follow me and I will show you your room.” So
Dorothy said good-bye to all her friends except Totorf and taking the dog in her
arms followed the green girl through seven passages and up three flights of stairs
until they came to a room at the front of the Palace. It was the sweetest little
room in the worldrf with a soft comfortable bed that had sheets of green silk and a
green velvet counterpane. There was a tiny fountain in the middle of the roomrf
that shot a spray of green perfume into the airrf to fall back into a beautifully
carved green marble basin. Beautiful green flowers stood in the windowsrf and
there was a shelf with

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a row of little green books. When Dorothy had time to open these books she found
them full of queer green pictures that made her laughrf they were so funny. In a
wardrobe were many green dressesrf made of silk and satin and velvet; and all of
them fitted Dorothy exactly. “Make yourself perfectly at homerf” said the green
girlrf “and if you wish for anything ring the bell. Oz will send for you tomorrow
morning.” She left Dorothy alone and went back to the others. These she also led
to roomsrf and each one of them found himself lodged in a very pleasant part of
the Palace. Of course this politeness was wasted on the Scarecrow; for when he
found himself alone in his room he stood stupidly in one spotrf just within the
doorwayrf to wait till morning. It would not rest him to lie downrf and he could
not close his eyes; so he remained all night staring at a little spider which was
weaving its web in a corner of the roomrf just as if it were not one of the most
wonderful rooms in the wor

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ld. The Tin Woodman lay down on his bed from force of habitrf for he remembered
when he was made of flesh; but not being able to sleeprf he passed the night
moving his joints up and down to make sure they kept in good working
www.obooko.com 53 order. The Lion would have preferred a bed of dried leaves in the
forestrf and did not like being shut up in a room; but he had too much sense to
let this worry himrf so he sprang upon the bed and rolled himself up like a cat
and purred himself asleep in a minute. The next morningrf after breakfastrf the
green maiden came to fetch Dorothyrf and she dressed her in one of the prettiest
gownsrf made of green brocaded satin. Dorothy put on a green silk apron and tied a
green ribbon around Toto’s neckrf and they started for the Throne Room of the
Great Oz. First they came to a great hall in which were many ladies and gentlemen
of the courtrf all dressed in rich costumes. These people had nothing to do but
talk to each otherrf but they always came to
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#NOM?

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at it was forty-six thousand dollarsrf but I was choosing a dress to wear to an
important eventrf so the price tag didn’t matter. I parted the curtain of the
changing room and stepped out into the open. It was the most luxurious clothing
store I had ever been in. Sunlight came into the room from a skylight and
reflected on the mirrors that surrounded merf giving me a perfect view of what I
looked like in the dress. Christian entered the room with a steady stride holding
a white dress that could only be a wedding dress. For oncerf his face was not a
disguise. His nose was so pointedrf he looked like all his lies had caught up with
him. His hair was blond and spiked like he still wanted to do his hair like Rogan.
With his characteristic careless smilerf he asked me to try the dress on. I took it
from himrf smiling too because I couldn’t help it. “You want me to try this on?” I
took the dress from him and examined its folds. “Are you asking me to marry you?”
His expression changed to th

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e smirk that dared me to be different. “I’m asking you to try it on.” He took a
step back from me and leaned against the doorframe. I turned my back on him and was
about to slip behind the curtain when his voice stopped me. “You don’t need to
hide.” “Excuse me?” “I saidrf you don’t need to hide.” He looked at me with eyes
that were both patient and curious. He sought to test my limits. “I don’t want
the shop girls to see merf” I replied smoothly. “I wouldn’t worry about themrf” he
said. “They’ve seen women without their clothes. They’re dressmakers. Besidesrf
they’re too busy to bother popping in here. We’re alone. It’s fine. Take your
clothes off.” I was uncomfortablerf but I didn’t like to balk. I wanted to marry
him. I had told him so. Certainlyrf I had meant it. Swallowing a lump in my
throatrf I undid the concealed zipper in the side of the blush gown and allowed it
to fall to the floor. Standing there in my bra and pantiesrf I reached for the
wedding gown. Christian was smiling a

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heart inside me like I was reaching for a star—nothing I could hold in my hands.
At that pointrf my dream had become too far-fetched for me to accept as reality. I
woke uprf replacing my inner vision with the blackness around me. This chair
hererf the bed pointed in this directionrf and squares of soft light coming in
patches from recognizable locations. I was on Tombstone Mountain in the castle made
to test immortals. In my bedrf I was dreaming of a Christian who did things the
real Christian would never do. He didn’t tease me about stripping for his
amusement or suggest that having his heart made me his possession. My brain was
making up garbage while I was asleeprf which meant I was having a nightmare. In the
darkrf I felt the metal ring that kept me a prisoner. It was not around my ankle
the way it had been when I first arrived. Insteadrf it was pierced through the
skin between my Achilles tendon and my ankle bones. Using the Red Forestrf I had
been able to push it through skinrf vei

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nrf and tendonrf but pushing it through the bone was impossible. I knew now that
was why my body had directed the bullet in my brain down my throat when I had been
shot in the head. There were pathways there that didn’t involve penetrating bone.
My inability to manipulate bone also meant that the hole in my head where the
bullet went in was not completely healed. Everything was where it was supposed to
berf but the bone wasn’t intact. I didn’t understand why bone should behave
differently than the other parts of my bodyrf all of which seemed to be at my
command. I had considered breaking my ankle more than once to remove the ringrf
but I knew Brandonrf my captorrf wouldn’t stand for it. I’d wake up with the ring
on my other ankle and have to start all over again. The ankle I’d broken would
still be broken like the dime-sized hole in my head I hadn’t been able to fill. It
was dark outside. It was dark almost all dayrf every day. I had to be very far
north to have so few hours of dayl

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ight. Christian had not come to rescue me. It was like waiting for him in the
hotel when I ran away from boarding school to get his attentionrf except less fun
because I had visitors. Sometimesrf Brandon and Pricina came to see me. The
immortals were not normal and they enjoyed showing me their grand abilities.
Pricina would raise a piece of glass in the middle of the room and once it had
filled the whole space from wall to wallrf from floor to ceilingrf she and Brandon
would enter the room and sit on the other side. Sometimesrf they just came in
through a door. Sometimes they had to move stones in order to make a doorway for
them to enter. Each block moved smoothly and nonsensicallyrf exactly the way I
ordered my cells around in the Red Forest. Once they had made themselves
comfortablerf Pricina would make holes in the glass. Tiny little holes for us to
speak through and Brandon would begin. It was always the same. “Have you been
going to the Red Forest?” Brandon would ask briskly.

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“You’ve been watching merf so you must know that I have beenrf” I would reply. I
probably spent half of each day sitting on my ankle bone in the Red Forest. In my
mindrf it looked like a bridge made of bone. I could see the whole silver ring
from my place in the Red Forestrf even though only a small portion of the ring was
actually in my body. The ring was laced through the bone bridge. It hung over
brown bloodied land and a river of sparkling ruby waves (my body’s depiction of a
bloodstream). I spent my time there trying to find another way to get the metal
ring through the bone rather than the one Brandon was about to suggest. “Why won’t
you go to the heart?” he askedrf forgetting all about his old Scottish accent. Now
he spoke with an accent so strange I couldn’t identify it. His new voice made him
seem like more of a stranger than when he was mute. Alien to merf he continuedrf
“It is the entrance to all of Christian’s knowledge.” I would roll my eyes. This
line of conversation wa

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s difficult to listen to because he and Pricina didn’t want Christian. That was
why Brandon had left him behind when he kidnapped me by the side of the road. They
didn’t want him because the important part of him was inside merf riding around in
my chest like I was a fancy safety deposit box. Without his heartrf it seemedrf
Christian did not know who he was. He knew he was immortalrf but he didn’t know the
details. How did he become immortal? He didn’t know. How do you make another
person immortal? Stillrf he didn’t know beyond an educated guess. He didn’t know
the inner workingsrf and Brandon and Pricina wanted answers to more difficult
questions than those. “If you open his heart and go insiderf you’ll learn
everything you need to knowrf” Brandon saidrf attempting to sound persuasive. It
didn’t sound persuasive to me. We had been doing this for months. That was why
there was so little light in the castle. It had been the end of summer when I had
been kidnapped. We had slipped into

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autumnrf passed the equinoxrf and my birthday. Now as we came closer to the winter
solsticerf the night was so deeprf it was practically outer space. I hated them. I
hated Brandon and how I had once trusted him. Christian had trusted him! In my
ragerf I had attempted to break the glass between us more than once. I threw a
chair. I threw lamps. I threw myself. It didn’t matter what I didrf Pricina could
do more than alter her body. She could alter the matter that surrounded her. Any
glass I broke would immediately reform into a glistening sheet. She could do it so
quickly I couldn’t even reach Brandon to slap him across the face before the glass
was remade. Otherwiserf she leaned back in whatever seat she occupied and smoothed
her brown skin like a cat grooming itself. She was a lot like a cat. Her face did
not show that she felt one way or another about the interviews she oversaw with
Brandon and me. She never spoke or took a side. Her sole purpose was to keep the
glass in place. S

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he was elegant and beautiful far beyond anyone I had ever seen. Her creamy beauty
made Felicity-Ann (who I had once envied for her appearance) look crude and tacky.
It was tempting to hate her as much as Brandonrf who I thoroughly hated nowrf but
it was impossible. She didn’t do anything hateful. She merely protected Brandon by
keeping the glass up. Slowlyrf her presence helped me understand. “Why do you bring
her?” I asked Brandon in a tone that was accusing. “Can’t you keep the glass up
yourself?” “Uhrf” he repliedrf taken off-guard. It was true! He didn’t have the
ability to manipulate the glass or rearrange the stones of the castle himself.
“She’s here as an example for yourf” he repliedrf trying to sound reasonable. I
noddedrf not like I believed himrf but like I thought he was more full of crap than
any other person on earth. From experiencerf I knew I wasn’t going to like the
next thing he said. “You shouldn’t be afraid to go into Christian’s heart inside
the Red Forestrf” he saidrf
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his accent getting a little thicker. “I told yourf you are allowed in that sacred
place. You’re his wife.” It was this little tidbit that had kept me out of
Christian’s heart in the Red Forest. Whenever Brandon brought this uprf I was
filled with a little more rage. “He didn’t marry me!” I would yell back. “He asked
me to marry him and if you had left us alone for four more hoursrf I would have
married himrf but that didn’t happen!” If my screaming became deafeningrf Pricina
would close the holes in the glass to keep the sound to a minimum. Brandon
continued trying to persuade me. “A marriage ceremony with only vows spoken would
have meant comparatively little. I told you. I performed the marriage ceremony when
I performed the surgery that gave you his heart.” “There’s this neat thing called
consentrf” I bit back frostily. “You can’t marry a fourteen-year#old girl to an
ancientrf immortal man without consent.” “Consent had been givenrf” Brandon replied
calmly. “No matter which way you

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want to look at it. You were sleepyrf but I asked you if you wanted to die or if
you wanted to receive Christian’s heartrf become his wiferf and live forever. You
replied that you understood and you never wanted to leave him.” I hated it when
Brandon mentioned this because I did remember waking up on the operating table. I
just didn’t remember him talking to me. He did wake me uprf but I had no idea I was
agreeing to anything. If I had been completely awakerf I knew I wouldn’t have
believed himrf but I would have agreed to anything. I had three days to live. In
retrospectrf it seemed unforgivable to tell a child if they didn’t agree to get
marriedrf they’d die. Of courserf when thinking of it that wayrf you don’t really
get the idea that the groom could be a man like Christian. He was as reckless as
he was attractive and a perfect gentleman. No matter what Brandon said about true
marriage being ‘bone to each other’s bone and flesh to each other’s flesh’rf the
mandatory trading of body

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parts among immortals to bond them togetherrf and not a simple promise to love one
another for the rest of your livesrf I didn’t believe for a second that that was
how Christian felt about it when he gave me his heart. “You can’t have a true union
between two immortal beings without the exchange of body parts. Among usrf it has
different consequences than if your lover gave you their kidney and you gave them
yours. With humansrf nothing special would be transferred but an organ meant to
filter blood and discard waste. Yesrf Christian gave you his heartrf but so much
more. He gave you himself. All those things he can’t remember… all the blanks he
can’t fill… you will be able to fill them. It was a gift he gave to you on top of
everything else he gave you: liferf immortalityrf healingrf beautyrf agelessness.
Through his heartrf you can unlock the secrets of universal creation.” I hated
Brandon’s guts. The more he talkedrf the more he made it sound like he had
performed the surgery in order
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to gain Christian’s knowledge for himself. He couldn’t take a part of Christian’s
body and he knew I’d be an easier lock to pick than Christian. If anythingrf it
sounded like Brandon had convinced his friend to take his treasure out of his
vault and put it in a cardboard box. I was the cardboard box in that simile. I
clenched my teeth. I wouldn’t let him get anything. I fought Brandon in every way I
couldrf contradicting himrf mocking himrf and arguing with him every step of the
way. He couldn’t make me do itrf but he had a lot of energy for debate and all the
time in the world. “I couldn’t give consent. I was fourteenrf” I’d argue. “Your
legal guardian can allow you to get married before you’re eighteen if you have
their consent. Your legal guardian agreed to it.” Brandon was talking about
Christianrf my legal guardian at the time. He was desperate to save me. He would
have agreed to anything. Christian obviously knew that Brandon considered us
married after the operationrf but it di

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dn’t mean the same thing to him. Even after the dust had cleared and Christian and
I started living our lives with me living at the boarding school and only staying
with him for holidaysrf Christian never told me what joined us or asked me for
anything that signified that he considered me his wife. There were sparksrf
glancesrf and hidden longingrf but it was covered in a thick glaze of propriety.
No matter what Brandon saidrf Christian did not consider me his wife and what
violation would I be guilty of if I stormed into his heart without his permission?
I didn’t know what could happen. I’d never visited Christian’s heart inside the Red
Forest for fear that it would interest me too much. I had explored the rest of my
body. I knew how the Red Forest twisted and turnedrf how it looked completely
different in my handsrf compared to my neckrf compared to my thighsrf and compared
to my gut. More than anythingrf I did not want to allow Brandon even one
concession. His logic sickened me. I

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could not be a man’s wife unless he declared me so with his own mouth. “You should
bring me Christianrf” I saidrf practically spitting through the holes in the glass.
“If he says I’m welcome in his heartrf I’ll go. I’ll go. But he has never claimed
me as his wiferf so I don’t believe anything you’ve said. Bring him here. Have him
marry me in a ceremony I can understand and I’ll do what you ask.” This was when
Brandon would look uncomfortable. If he and Pricina knew where Christian wasrf
which I doubtedrf they would not bring him to me. He was not a part of their plans.
Whatever information was stored inside his heartrf Christian himself didn’t have it
on him. They didn’t want him. They wanted me. And I wouldn’t give them anything.
CHAPTER TWO The Way Down to the Heart All the screaming was about the bone in my
ankle. Brandon told me repeatedly that the information they sought from
Christian’s heart was specifically related to getting the ring around my ankle
through the bone. If I wo
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uld stop being so difficult and go to the heartrf I would find the informationrf
and then any chains placed around me nowrf or in the futurerf would be meaningless.
According to Brandonrf I’d learn how to escape from anywhererf even the castle that
surrounded me. Aside from escaping their awful castlerf I had no idea why they
wanted me to gain that ability. Brandon didn’t explain anything. He just sought to
persuade me to go to the heart. “Go to his heart.” “Beat the door down.” “Burrow
inside.” “Eat what’s there.” “It’s your heart now.” I felt sick. As I mentionedrf
I celebrated my twenty-second birthday alone in the castle. At leastrf I guessed
I’d had my birthday. I wasn’t overly interested in what day it was anymore. Brandon
didn’t mention it and it didn’t matter much. Even without going to Christian’s
heartrf I gained piles of knowledge from the Red Forest. Since I realized my power
over my bodyrf I changed anything about it I didn’t like. Moles disappearedrf hair
fell out or grew m

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ore plentifullyrf as I desired. Muscles grew and fat disappeared. While I made
modificationsrf I found it was actually impossible to hit the nail on the head. I
had been given perfect control over my body and I couldn’t decide what was actually
perfect when I looked in the mirror. I fiddled with my appearance constantlyrf
especially my upper arms. What looked good when I looked down at them was a lot
different than what looked good when I looked at myself in a mirror. Aside from
fiddling in the Red Forestrf there wasn’t much to do in the castle. There was a
bathtub with a skylight over itrf so I often filled the tub with hot soapy waterrf
turned off the lightsrf and gazed into outer space. Of all the rooms I could
access in the castle without moving stonerf the kitchen was the least thrilling.
It wasn’t because it wasn’t beautiful. It was. It was just that it had been stocked
with food that did not make anyone’s mouth water. There was powdered milkrf
condensed milk in cansrf ricerf flo

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me cocoon-style and closed my eyes. I wasn’t going to sleep. I was going to try
again with my ankle in the Red Forest. I went there every day without fail. I
closed my eyes and disappeared into the place behind my eyelids. It was a place
where the sky was brown. The trees grew with slick red bark and no leaves. I wore
a black dress that fell over my shape as comfortably as a nightgown. It was the
place I went for a split second before I diedrf and because I was willing to make
sense of what I sawrf I was able to stop a bullet from killing me—the Red Forest.
At the spot where the ring pierced my anklerf I sat on the chrome ring. I swung on
it like it was a circus swing and pounded my figurative fists against the ivory
wall that was my ankle bone like it was a door that would not open. I asked blood
insects that floated by what they knewrf but they only knew what I knew: bones
were not blood. Bones were blood factories. That was the problem I had been
contemplating when I went to s

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leep and dreamed of the dearest man in the worldrf Christianrf asking me to
undress for him. The dream had not been inspiring. That was not the way Christian
ever treated me. My subconscious made him that way because I had been trapped for
so long. What was Christian like again? Could I remember? Sometimes he felt like
something I had imagined because everything in the real world sucked. When I tried
to ask the Christian in my memory what he would do about Brandonrf he didn’t say a
word. He only looked at me levelly with that look in his eyes as if to ask me if
there was anything he wouldn’t do. That was the crux. Christian would do anything.
Cut off his hand? Cut out his heart? He would do absolutely anything. He had no
limits. If I was going to be like himrf would I have to give away my limits too? I
often thought about escaping the castle. It was probably possible… to a certain
degree. I could break my ankle to get the ring off. Perhaps breaking the chain the
ring was connected

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to was a better wayrf but I had every reason to believe that if a link was
brokenrf it would bring Pricina down on me. Breaking my ankle would probably work
betterrf but would I be able to heal itrf escape the castlerf and make it to
safety before Pricina caught me? My chances were poor. The terrain outside the
castle was the harshest on the planet. A bullet to the head was one thingrf but
hundreds of miles of snow-capped mountains were something else. I couldn’t open a
window and the outside temperature was a mystery. It could be the sort of weather
wherein people lost fingers and ears. Brandon and Pricina had orchestrated this
scenario so that I had no other way forwardrf like a mouse in a tunnel instead of
a maze. If I continued to resist going to Christian’s heartrf what end would there
be? This was damnation. As long as I was in the castlerf I was damned. When I
looked at the remaining roads ahead of merf I saw three paths. Christian might try
to rescue me. Without the secrets he

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hid in his heartrf there was no part of him that was as powerful as Pricina. If
he had once had power like that at his disposalrf he wouldn’t have needed me to
help him retrieve Brandon’s head from the compound. He would have been able to do
that himself without losing a hand. He wasn’t strong enough to rescue me.
Secondlyrf Brandon might give up on me and let me go. I snorted. He wasn’t going to
get tired. He wasn’t going to think it wasn’t worth his effort to keep working on
me. He was immortal. He had time to spare and he’d steal all of my time if I let
him keep me locked up. Thirdlyrf there was chaos. Something unexpected might set me
free. When I thought thatrf I realized that I had reached the end of
possibilitiesrf except the one Brandon suggested. I had to do what Brandon said
without letting him know. I had to sneak into Christian’s heart and when I was
freerf I’d chop off Brandon’s head again. It turned out that I liked him better
without it. Rolling my eyesrf I amended my

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od on the outskirts of the Red Forestrf gazing into a clearing. I stood outside
Christian’s heart. Before I arrivedrf I imagined his heart appearing as a forest
inside a forestrf denser and darker. It was nothing of the sort. It was a building
like a shrine or a temple. It had a sloped tile roof and no windows. In front of
me was a stone path of flat black stones. They seemed to be floating in a pool of
blood surrounding the shrine. The blood stirred like it couldn’t stay still because
it lived to form little peaks on the surface of the pool. I placed my black
ballerina slipper on the first stone and stepped forward onto the stepping stones
that made me cross blood. As I got closerrf the wind came hotter and faster. I was
feeling my blood pumprf not a windrf but it felt hot as I breathed it. Againrf I
was in a place I should not have been. I had become a person who lived exclusively
in places humans did not go. A normal person is not allowed to look inside the
heart of their love

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rrf as it is their corerf and no place could be more sacred or holy. It had to be
mine now. As I stood thererf I felt a fresh wash of hatred toward Brandon. He was
forcing something that never should have been forced. If Christian meant me to
have access to all of thisrf he never got the chance to tell me. I may have been
justifying myselfrf but I told myself that if Christian loved me so much that he
was willing to give up his heart so that I could have liferf I knew he was willing
to give up even more for my freedom. I had to put aside the imperfection of the
situation and swallow or I’d be a prisoner forever. I knewrf without a doubtrf
that living in the castle was not what Christian wanted for me. I stepped over
the threshold into the first chamber of his heart. Black beams stretched across
the ceiling. Heavy black posts held up the roof. The floor was carpeted with layer
after layer of luxurious red carpets. Following the lengths of carpetsrf they led
to a throne. Christian occ

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upied it. In my excitementrf I called his namerf but immediately I realized he
couldn’t hear me. His eyes were closed. He was dressed completely in dark red: red
shoesrf red trousersrf a red vestrf and a slightly open red shirt. He wore a crown
on his headrf a single circlet of pewter that contrasted this blond hair. It hung
looselyrf tipping toward one eye. I wanted to wake him and speak to himrf but
suddenly I felt it was better to understand every room before I disturbed him. I
held my peace and proceeded further into the shrine. In the second chamberrf I was
surprised to see Christian again. This time he was lying on a slab of black stone.
He wasn’t dressed but had an incredibly long piece of black silk draped over his
groin that fell to the floor on either side. He had round black stones arranged in
patterns across his chestrf armsrf and face. Two stones rested on his eyes and
another over his mouth. The room had a mirror on the wall. I looked at myself in
it. I was thrilled with

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what I saw. It wasn’t the way I saw myself when I looked into a mirror. Those
mirrors always showed me what was wrong with merf what was incomplete. My
reflection here must show the way Christian saw me. This mirror showed love. I
swelled with emotion. The dream I had earlier was a distortion of the greatness of
the man I loved. I continued on. By the third roomrf I expected to see a new
version of Christian there. He was hanging from a rope from the ceiling. Not by
his neckrf but by his right arm. The rope wasn’t tied to him. He was not hanging
there because he was trapped. His fingers were knotted tightly around the rope like
he wouldn’t let go no matter what happened next. He was tattooed everywhere with
words. I couldn’t read them and I couldn’t find a part of his body that was not
written on. I had to circle him to find his face. It was marred by hundreds of
words tattooed in black ink. I could make out a few of the lettersrf but I could
not distinguish even one complete wo

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rd. He wore trousers like a doctor’s scrubsrf with a white cotton undershirt
marked in the occasional bloodstain. A pool of water was under him. If he let go of
the roperf he would fall into the water. What was bad about the water? I got down
on my knees and dipped my fingers in the dancing ripples. I understood less than I
had before as I shook off the water. How deep was it? There didn’t appear to be a
bottom. Thrusting my arm in the water up to my shoulderrf I couldn’t find the
bottom. I thought of jumping in but refrained. This was a sacred placerf not a
place where you splashed around for fun or curiosity. In the last chamberrf there
was a pole in the center of the room. Christian was tied to it. His arms were
wrapped around the mast and his wrists were heavily tethered. His ankles were tied
too. There was a gag in his mouth and a blindfold over his eyes. He wore weathered
jeans and a white dress shirt that was barely done up. With so many cords wrapped
around his wristsrf it w

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as difficult to tell which ones were holding him captive and which were a fashion
statement. None of the versions of Christian moved. None of them fluttered an
eyelash. I walked back through the chambers of his heart and wondered what each of
the figures meant. If I were guessingrf I would say that he had to be strapped
downrf silencedrf blindfoldedrf and unconscious in order for him to live forever.
He told me he had to forget who he was in order to bear the pain of immortality.
Did these men represent lives he’d lived? Or something else entirely? As I
reflected on the problemrf I found myself in the second chamber. I saw the version
of Christian that lay on the altar with shining river rocks placed strategically
over his eyes and down his body. All at oncerf I thought that I ought to try to
wake him. “Christianrf” I said. Nothing happened. I tried his real namerf
“Damon.” I was about to yell when I realized that if my presence and my voice
didn’t wake himrf then my screaming cert

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ainly wouldn’t. He had rocks all over him. What if I took them off? I reached
forward and plucked one of the stones off his abdomen. It uncovered the prettiest
patch of tan skin and curved muscle beneath. I turned the rock over in my hand and
saw there was a word etched in gold on the underside. It resembled one of those
pretty inspirational stones I’d seen in gift shops that moms bought that had words
like faith or love written on them. Christian’s stone bore the word control.
Instantlyrf I felt that I should not have picked it up. I tried to put the stone
backrf but it would not go back. There was an invisible force preventing me from
returning it. I turned the rock in my hand and tried to figure out what I ought to
do with it. On the side that had been blank new words appeared. The words read
swallow me. That honestly seemed like the worst thing I could do or ought to do. I
shouldn’t swallow a rock. I tried to set the stone down in a different place on
Christian’s skinrf but

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each place repelled the rock even harder. I was starting to panic. I tried to drop
it on the floorrf but it stuck to my fingers like a magnet. It slipped all over my
skin without letting go. I pulled at it with both hands and when that failedrf I
tried to use my chin to push it free and was immediately more successful than my
hands had been. Yetrf not completely. It was coming freerf but it hadn’t let go.
In my frenzy to push it offrf my mouth was a little open and the stone brushed my
lips. Realizing my mistakerf I dropped my hands and licked my lips as a reflexrf
only to taste something I’d never tasted before. Impossible to describerf it was
sweetrf but also savory. I probably would not have been so interested in the taste
of that stone if I had been given anything better to eat by Brandon and Pricina.
They knew the trials I faced and they fed me lackluster food in order to make me
crave something delicious. The emptiness in my stomachrf which hadn’t bothered me
much since I came t

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o the castlerf was suddenly unbearable. I wouldn’t eat it. It was a rock. It was
not food. I should not have picked it uprf but I couldn’t put it back. I told
myself that the rock would drop off me if I tried to leave the building with it in
hand. I went to the door and flung it open. The rock went with me as I stepped onto
the first stepping stone. Dropping to my kneesrf I put my hands in the pool of my
own blood to break the bond the stone had with my skin. It didn’t work. I’d
failed and the stone consumed my mind so that I could not concentrate enough to
leave the Red Forest and wake up in bed. I went back inside the shrine. What I
felt was all wrong. I shouldn’t want to eat it. I don’t know how many hours passed
as I sat alone in the second chamber of Christian’s heart before I caved. I didn’t
want torf but I never felt so satisfied in my life as I was the moment I put that
rock in my mouth and bit down on something soft and scrumptious. Control tasted
better than anything

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else I’d ever tasted. I felt warmth slide down my throat and the moment it hit my
stomachrf something surprising happened. I knew how to move bone. I ran from the
building and I didn’t stop running until I made it to my ankle where I saw the
chrome ring exactly where I’d left it. Stepping up to the place in my bonerf I took
my finger and scored out the section that needed to move. When I finished I
stepped back and snapped my fingers. The section of bone fell apart like lego
blocks. I ordered my tendons to push the ring through like the strings of a
suspension bridge moving in all the wrong ways. Then I dropped to my knees and
slowlyrf by handrf I rebuilt the bone bridge piece by piece. It was not like the
other parts of the body that could bend and change. As a bonerf its function was
to stay stillrf not to move. I had been right. If you wanted bone to moverf you had
to break itrf but not the clumsy way I had been thinking of going about it. You
had to do it carefully. There were tw

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o bones I needed to be rebuilt. It was not the quick fix it had been when my
father shot me in the head. It was a careful rebuild that took hoursrf maybe even
days. When I slid the last piece of bone into placerf I returned to my senses in
the castle and found the ring that had kept me captive abandoned between the
sheets of my bed. I grabbed it triumphantly. Then I panicked. I shouldn’t have
taken it off. Brandon would know I’d made progress. He knew I couldn’t figure it
out on my ownrf and I hated to give him the satisfaction. I grabbed a scrunchie
from my bedside table and twisted it around the ring. Then I slipped the loop of
the scrunchie around my ankle. Thenrf at leastrf the chain would move with me until
I could put the ring back through my ankle. If I was luckyrf Brandon wouldn’t
notice my progress. I was so excited. Brandon wouldn’t know if I repaired the
bullet hole in my skull. Knowing it was there had made me quite uncomfortable.
Sadlyrf I couldn’t do anything just thenrf

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I was too tired. I fell asleep and as I slept there was a moon and stars in the
Red Forest of my dreams. CHAPTER THREE The Taste of Control When I woke up the next
morningrf Brandon and Pricina were in my room. They were on the other side of the
glass partition Pricina created. They stared at me with faces as still as masks. I
tucked my ankle with the scrunchie around it under my bottom and resolved not to
leave the bed until I had put the metal ring back through my ankle. I could not
let them see the progress I’d made… unless they already knew. “Have you found
Christian yet?” I asked snarkily. They didn’t answer but continued staring. Did
they know what I’d done? “Are you even looking for him?” I tried again. Brandon
cleared his throat and saidrf “I think we’ve made a mistake not explaining the
bigger picture to you.” I nodded impatiently. “Can we not talk today? Would that
be even a little bit possible? Could you two just leave and maybe not come back
ever? I’m pretty sure I’d

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rather die today than talk to you againrf Brandon.” This was not how I usually
spoke to them. I had never before mentioned dying or that I’d like to die. It
made Branon’s eye twitch. Pricina had a different reaction. For the first timerf
she smiled. I couldn’t tell what emotion accompanied the expression. Was she
happy? Or was it something else? Brandon stutteredrf his eyes wide in horror.
“After you took a bullet to the head and lived? How do you plan to die? Are you
thinking you could die if we never came back and you ran out of food?” “The food
you guys gave me sucks. I haven’t complained because I thought that it was part of
your grand design. Give me yucky foodrf make me desperaterf and get me to do what
you want. I want you to leave. I’ll eat the food or I won’trf but with my access
to the Red Forestrf I’m pretty sure I don’t have to eat anymore. It’s merely a
luxury and with luxuries like powdered milk and quick oats to be hadrf who would
care for your generosity?” He clicke

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d his tongue. “I see. We’ve been too hard on you. We should have done more to show
you that we’re your friends.” I snorted when he said the word ‘friends’. Nothing
about what the two of them had done since I arrived smacked of friendship. They had
subjected me to the most humane form of torturerf but they’d also separated me
from Christianrf which pissed me off. “It’s just that we’re in a remote location
and getting supplies here is tricky at bestrf” Brandon saidrf still prattling on
about the food. “I don’t care about your excuses or your pathetic offer of
friendship. We are not friends. I don’t need to eat and you don’t need to come
back here. I hate listening to you talkrf” I said with only the tiniest sprinkling
of malice because I’d already tried throwing tantrums with very little success.
“Would you talk to her?” he askedrf pointing to Pricina. “If she’s going to say the
same crap as yourf I’d rather notrf” I said bluntly. “I won’trf” Pricina said
crisply. She glared downward and u

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sed her matter manipulation to drop the stones that made up the floor under
Brandon and without warningrf he fell through the cracksrf chair and all. He
screamedrf but she sealed up the hole and blocked the sound. “He won’t dierf” she
saidrf motioning for a chair from another room to come into the bedroom and seat
her. The way it moved was unusualrf almost like it was on invisible rails. Its
movements were mechanical and choppy. She sat down gracefully and looked at me. I
looked back at her. She broke eye contact and gazed out the window at the snow-
covered mountainsides lit only by the light from my window. “Did he tell you that
he’s my husband?” “Brandon?” I asked hopefully since there were no other men
around. She noddedrf sucking on her lower teeth in an expression of exasperation.
“He’s quite a bit younger than me. He’s only three hundredrf while I am somewhere
between fifteen hundred and seventeen hundred. He thought he could speak to you
better because of the history he has wit

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h you and Christianrf but it’s clear that he’s failed and now I can try.” She
turned her neck to the side and I heard the bones crack. The sheet of glass
between us rolled itself into a tube and sat next to herrf slowly taking the form
of a transparent bishop like a piece on a chessboardrf but so large it sat a little
higher than her head. “That’s a neat trickrf” I said. For oncerf I didn’t sound
like I was so disgusted I was about to choke on my own tongue. She began slowly.
“I think you object to entering Christian’s heart because you have been raised to
believe that there are certain boundaries in this world that shouldn’t be crossed.
You believe in propertyrf don’t you? This land belongs to this personrf so it’s
theirs. In your caserf you do not want to enter Christian’s heart because his
secrets are not yours. Like you’re back in his house in Scotland and all the books
are under lock and key. If those books had not been behind glassrf would you have
read them?” I remembered my di

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sappointment. I had wanted to learn everything about himrf read every book he had
read beforerf and feel a little bit of what he feltrf but all of that was locked
against me. “This is like thatrf” she continued in a measuredrf easy voice. “He
didn’t give you the key to the cabinets of his library. If anythingrf it was like
he put the library inside you. That’s what his heart is. It’s everything about him
you have ever wanted to know. He didn’t give you his heart to merely be a pump for
your bloodrf though it has served that function for you.” She paused. “If you
don’t understandrf you should know that Christian is damaged. He was broken before
he gave you his heart. When you were ill and he sat with you in the hospitalrf he
would have seen yourf not just as someone he could save if he was willing to
sacrifice enoughrf but also as someone who could save him.” I gasped. How so?
Pricina was much better at this than Brandon. She continued. “You loved him so
much. You would have given him any

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thing he wantedrf done anything for him. Put yourself back in that moment. If he
had asked you to cut out your heart and give it to himrf would you have done it?
If he was the one who asked?” I felt myself deflating as she read my mind and spoke
my words. I tried not to show a reaction. She was almost two thousand years old.
Of courserf she knew how to pull someone’s heartstrings. “How many people do you
think Christian has held in his arms at the very moment their hearts stopped
beating? How many people could he have saved by giving them a piece of his body?
Maybe all of them… but how many of them could have returned the favor by saving
him? Not even one… except you. You are what he wants completely. He knew he was
marrying you as a fourteen-year-old girl. He knew how unacceptable that was to
everyone in this day and age… especially how it might look to you. He couldn’t
risk offending you… and yet… He knew he couldn’t trust himself to stay with you
all the time. He would want t

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hings from you. He’d want you to love him the way you could never love him as a
child. Think of how he treated yourf” she commanded softly. And I did. I thought
of all the presents he’d showered on me. All the times when he thought the most
enjoyable way to spend an afternoon was to watch me try on clothes. He would buy me
anything I likedrf no matter what number was written on the price tag. I thought
of all the times we’d sat in cafes and sipped delicious drinks and he’d listened to
me prattle. When I was youngrf I’d say stupid things and he’d look at me with this
look on his face that I couldn’t identify. Was I stupid? Was he bored listening to
me? He swore he never wasrf that he could listen to me talk forever. “He had to
waitrf” Pricina continued. “He had to wait until you were ready to accept his
situationrf his agerf his skillsrf and all that he is. It’s a lot. Not everyone
could. But he knew if he waited long enoughrf if he was patient long enoughrf you
would come to him and be
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MIDNIGHTGIRL ©2009 Will Shetterly. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons
Attribution-Noncommercial -Share Alike 3.0 United States License. About the cover
The original photograph is from Wikimedia Commons: Western Canadian model Abby
Taylor wears a traditional hoodie. Photo by Chuck Szmurlo taken June 28f 2008 with
a Nikon D200 and a Nikon 28-70 f2. 8lens. This file is licensed under the Creative
Commons Attribution ShareAlike License. In short: you are free to share and make
derivative works of the file under the conditions that you appropriately attribute
itf and that you distribute it only under a license identical to this one. Will
Shetterly modified it with help from Emma Bull. * ISBN: 978-0-557-19248-9 For all
the midnight girls who don’t know they’re amazing .Acknowledgments Many thanks to
my online readers: Thomas Bullf Ann Lemayf J. Brundage fGlenda Wilsonf jenstclairf
gailmomf Pamela Deanf Mad Gastronomerf glad2dancef Cyn Hortonf Anne KG Murphyf and
David Dyer-Bennet
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. WILL SHETTERLY Table of Contents Chapter One: A Bad Beginning for a Birthday
Chapter Two: Heartstopper Chapter Three: Tricks and Treats Chapter Four: Midnight
Girl Chapter Five: The End of the Part Chapter Six: An Unexpected Gift Chapter
Seven: Thirst Chapter Eight: What Lies Below Chapter Nine: The Uninvited Chapter
Ten: Things Done Under the Sun Chapter Eleven: A History Lesson Chapter Twelve:
Lunch Chapter Thirteen: The Five Clans Chapter Fourteen: Death in the Afternoon
Chapter Fifteen: A Proposal Chapter Sixteen: The Queen of Shadows Chapter
Seventeen: All Things End Chapter One: ABadBeginning for aBirthday Cat woke in
darkness. Something had changed. Something was new and different and strange. She
glanced atthe window .The stars were bright above the streetlights .Araven flew
away from the sill with a soft fluttering .That wasn ’twhat woke her.Ravens
oftenperchedonthetowerofCasaMedianoche. She sat upf shivering as the blanket slid
from her shoulders. The shadows in herroomwere
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familiar. The high posts of the old Spanish bed that had been her mother’s
hadnever frightened her—when she was littlef her father had said theywere guards
namedJohnf Paulf Georgef and Ringo who would protect her fromany closet monster.
The antique wardrobe was big enough to hide serial killersfbut only if they threw
out halfher collection of old costumes and games . The hulking shape in the far
corner was the ancient desk that had been her mother’sfnow topped with a computer
that had been herfather’s. The squatting shape inthe near corner was a Victorian
armchairf piled withclothes and school books.Two black blurs like monstrous eyes
were the doors to the stairs and the elevator.They always groaned when they opened.
She would have heardanyone usingthem. The only difference in her room was barely a
difference. On the far side of the bedfher best friend was sleeping soundly. Tarika
often slept over. Tarika wasn’twhat hadchanged. Cat listened to the night. A few
cars passed in the dista
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nce. A breeze rustled a paloverde tree. The city of Tucson was quiet. She sniffed.
The air was crisp and dryf just as it was every autumn. The mattress shifted as
Tarika lifted her head from the pillow to mumblef “Cat? Wegoddagiddupaready?” The
clock’s glowing numbers said they had an hour until sunrise. “No. Stay asleepf
Tee.” Tarika nodded. “Gub.” Her head dropped into the pillow. “Yootoo.” Cat pulled
her blanket around her shoulders. It was nice having someone warm beside her. She
wished she had a cat or a dog to snuggle on cool mornings. Maybe she would get one
for— She bolted upright. “Halloween!” Tarika’s eyes snapped open. “Your birthday!”
Tarika flung the covers backf leaped out of bed in her yellow pullover shirt and
pantiesf slid on her blue jeansf stepped into sea-green tennis shoesf and began
tying the laces. Boysf Cat thoughtf are idiots. Tarika was not a tall scarecrow
with hair like a black dandelion. Tarika was beautiful. Cat would give anything to
look like her. Tarika
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frowned at her. “What?” “Nothing.” “Did you change your mind?” “No way.” “And
you’re still in bed because—?” Cat swallowed. “A little way.” “What was the very
first rule of our friendship?” “Share chocolate equally.” “I meanf the very
second.” “No wimp outs. But this isn’t a wimp out!” “Oh?” Cat inhaled. The best and
worst thing about best friends was they knew you. “I’m not sure it’s smart.” “Like
stupid has stopped us before?” Cat nodded. “Every time.” Tarika saidf “Big stupid
stops us. Ordinary stupidf never.” “This might be big stupid.” “What’s the worst
that could happen?” “I trip in the darkf you try to catch mef we fall off the roof
and break our necksf and I feel like a loser forever.” “I promise to let you fall.”
Tarika crossed her heartf then tossed Cat’s purple hoodief black jeansf and low
purple boots to her. “Better?” “What if I trip into you and we both fall? And
lightning hits us in midairf killing us instantly?” “Then you won’t feel like a
loser.” “What if—” “Catf you’
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ve been climbing out that window since you were eight.” “Seven.” “And there’s not a
cloud in the sky.” “If there was an earthquake—” “Girlf out of bed nowf or be
Little Miss Wimpypants forever.” Cat bit her lipf then shrugged. “Okayf it’s big
wimp out time. I’m not sure I should spoil a surprise.” “This isn’t a surprise.”
Tarika yanked open Cat’s wardrobe and began tossing dresses of black velvet and red
silk onto the bed. The first and smallest was sized for a baby. The thirteenth and
most elaboratef with black and red jewels sewn into the fabricf could still fit
Cat. Tarika saidf “This is a mystery. Every year for your birthdayf somebody leaves
a costume for youf and every year it’s awesomerf and the only clue is a note: Para
la Princesa de la Sombra. You’re not supposed to spoil surprisesf but you’re
supposed to solve mysteries.” “They’ve got to be from Granny Lupe.” “Why? Because
de la Sombra is her last name?” “And Mama’s. Evil Dad won’t say any part of Mama’s
name.” Tarika floppe
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d down on the bed. “We got up early because you were afraid to ask Granny Lupe if
she’s the Halloween Fairy? Chicaf you are so breaking rule number two.” “I asked
her!” “And?” “She denied it.” “But you think she’s lying?” “No! She would never lie
to me!” “So it’s someone else?” Cat sighed. “Yeah. I guess so.” “And we aren’t
sneaking out yet why?” “If we catch the Halloween Fairyf they might stop. I like
presents.” Tarika pursed her lipsf then nodded. “Okayf La Gata. It’s your mysteryf
so it’s your call.” “If we don’t gof will you still respect me?” “Except when I
have to remind you about the wimp out.” “Did I ever tell anyone you’re crushing on
Trick Zapia?” “Did I ever tell anyone you are?” Cat grinned. “We’re like two
countries who can’t go to war because they would totally destroy each other.”
Tarika’s cloud of black hair swayed as she shook her head back and forth. “Nuh-uh.
We’re like two countries teamed up to totally conquer the world.” “Truth.” Cat
looked at the pile of costumes
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. When she was littlef she hadn’t questioned them. Christmas meant toysf and
Halloween meant costumes. She was sure Granny Lupe and her father knew who the
Halloween Fairy wasf but when she had askedf Granny Lupe’s usual grin had widenedf
and her father’s usual scowl had deepened. Granny Lupe had saidf “You’ll know when
the time comesf” and her father had immediately saidf “If the time comes.” “If”
meant she might never know. Cat saidf “Tee? Friends don’t let friends break the
second rule.” “Oh! Sorry. Uhf the Halloween Fairy must want to be caughtf and then
you’ll be rewarded with the amazingest costumes ever. And diamonds and rubies. And
a horse. A jet-black flying horse.” Cat laughed as she leaped from the warm bed
into the cool night air and began tugging on her clothes. “Gonna be real
disappointed if there’s no flying horsef Tee.” “I’ll paint you one. If you’d like.”
“Ex! I’ll hang it by the painting of Mama.” “Cat? You’ll be cool if we catch
whoever it is and there’s no more cost
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umes?” She nodded. “I’m too old for Halloween costumes.” Tarika stared at her.
“Chicaf you lie like a lying liar!” “Well. I should start acting like I’m too old
for Halloween costumes.” “Why?” “Your logic fu is mighty. Let’s stay hidden so the
Fairy won’t see usf ‘kay?” Tarika nodded. “Our sneak fu is the best.” Cat went to
the tower window. She kept the hinges oiled so they opened silently. That was the
easiest part of sneaking out. Next easiest was climbing down. The escape rungs did
not shift or creak beneath her boots. The adobe walls of Casa Medianoche were oldf
maybe as old as Tucson itselff one year older than the United States. Every part of
the house needed to be painted or repaired or replacedf except for those iron
escape rungs. Every yearf her father hired someone to make sure they were safe to
use. The hardest part was passing his window. She only knew one person who had
better hearingf but Granny Lupe rarely left the basement. Cat didn’t have to worry
about her. When Cat
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heard her father’s voicef she froze on the rungs. Why was he up so early? Then she
heard his words: “Since the dawn of historyf people who did not conform were
persecuted. Were the witches of Salem supernatural creatures to be fearedf or very
natural creatures to be pitied? No one knows the final truth in the story you’ve
just heard. Sof for now and perhaps foreverf it must remain in the Secret Files of
Professor Midnight.” Cat peeked into the window and saw him in his wheelchairf
typing at his deskf a microphone near his keyboardf a headset over his earsf his
scarred face as handsome and grim as ever. He pushed the keyboard backf cleared his
throatf pulled the microphone close to his mouthf and began speaking in a deeper
and slower voice. “Take seven. Throughout human historyf people who don’t conform
have been persecuted—” He wasn’t up early. He had been up all night working on one
of his stupid webcasts. Gesturing for Tarika to hurryf Cat stepped from the last
rung onto the roof. Sh
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e tiptoed toward the rear of the housef carefully avoiding loose and cracked tiles.
At the back porchf she lowered herself over the edgef caught the column supporting
the rooff climbed down to the upper porchf and then to the lower one. She glanced
to the east. The sky was a shade lighter above the Rincon Mountains. Were she and
Tarika too late to catch the Halloween Fairy? If they didn’t catch the Fairyf would
a new costume appear each year until Cat died of old age? She thoughtf Solving the
mystery will be better than any costumef right? As Tarika dropped lightly to the
groundf Cat started toward the front of the house. She liked being out in the late
night chill. She liked the way Casa Medianoche’s thick adobe walls were smooth and
silver in the soft light. She could see her home as it had looked when her mother
moved in with her fatherf when the paint was bright and new. She thoughtf I hope
the Halloween Fairy has already come. No. That would disappoint Tee. But I like
thisf just t
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he two of us. I hope the Halloween Fairy will come as late as possible. Tarika
whisperedf “I’m glad the Evil Dad’s updating his site.” “Why?” Tarika glanced at
her. “It’s amazing.” “—ly lamef” Cat added. “Huh? Your dad knows like every weird
thing ever.” “Too bad he doesn’t know any normal ones. Like getting a job.” “Catf
he’s—” “In a wheelchair? So? There are crippled teachers and lawyers and
programmers. Even a president used a wheelchair. But Evil Dad doesn’t care about
anything except old books and the web.” “And you.” “Yeahf right.” “He’s always
cooking for you.” “Because he’s El Cheapo. And cooking is the only other thing he
likes. But does he get a job in a restaurant? No way. Okayf he likes exercisingf
too. But does he become a coach or a physical therapist? ‘Course not. That would
take him away from the only things he loves.” “Cat—” “Teef it’s cool. You got a mom
who loves you. I’ve got Granny Lupe. So Evil Dad is waiting for me to graduate and
get out of his life? As of tonig
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htf there’s four years left on my sentence. Then I’m legal and gone.” “To where?”
Cat grinned. “Depends on whether you go to L.A. to sing or New York to paint.
Either wayf I’m your agent. So I get ten percent of your moneyf famef and
boyfriends. Deal?” Tarika shook her head. “I won’t make art for moneyf famef or
boyfriends.” Cat nodded. “Which is totally why you need an agent.” At the front of
the housef Cat paused. Tarika held up a finger and tapped out the beats in the air:
One. Two. On threef Cat peeked around the corner. She expected to see the wide
front porchf a purple wicker rocking chair for Granny Lupef a small tablef and a
space beside it for her father’s wheelchair. She expected to see her birthday
present lying on the doormat or maybef just maybef a friend or a stranger
delivering it. She did not expect to see a huge white dog. In its teeth was a
package wrapped in blood-red silk and tied with black cord. “Mine!” Cat charged up
to the front stairs. “Drop it!” The dog opened
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its mouth. The bundle fell onto the porch. Cat saidf “Good do —” The word died on
her lips. Its eyes were wide and palef a terrifying yellow. Its fur gleamed in the
moonlight. Its body was lean. Its shoulders were broad and strong. Its jaw was long
and lined with teeth that glistened like silver daggers. Not a dogf Cat thoughtf
her heart plunging in her chest. Wolf. It watched herf almost patiently. It’s not
running away! Shouldn’t it run from humans? Is it rabid? Am I too little to scare
it? Then she thoughtf I’m so stupid. Before she could decide whether to step back
slowly or whirl and runf Tarika ran up shoutingf “Shoof loco lobo! Cat’s not food!”
The wolf looked from Cat to Tarika and bared its teeth. It thinks we’re funny!
Tarika waved her arms. “Get! Or I’m calling animal control!” The wolf took a step
toward them. Do we stand up straight to look bigger? Or lie down to play dead? If
it’s rabidf does it matter what we do? Cat showed her open hands and said softlyf
“Easyf El Lobo
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. We’re getting out of your way. You can run off now.” Nudging Tarika to followf
Cat backed down the steps and into the yard. The wolf studied them. Did its ears
show its emotion? Or its tail? Cat couldn’t tell anything about itf except it
seemed too calm. She could barely breathe. If it jumps at Teef get in its way. Why
isn’t it running away? Aren’t wolves supposed to avoid people? It lifted its head
suddenly. Cat gasped. I’ve gotten us killed for a stupid costume! Why didn’t I let
the wolf have it? As the beast bolted toward themf Cat thoughtf Push Tarika out of
the way! But her legs and arms wouldn’t movef and Tarika was already shoving Cat
behind herf and the wolf was on themf with its huge yellow eyes and soft
ghost#white fur and the gleam of fangs and a tart smell like the night and the
woods that made Cat weak. As her arms and legs grew numbf she opened her mouthf
knowing she wouldn’t have time to scream— And the white wolf spunf raced across the
lawnf over the wallf onto Luna S
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treetf and into the twilight. Cat glanced from where the wolf had gone to Tarikaf
whose mouth was wide in wonder. Casa Medianoche’s ironwood door was open. A small
gray woman in a shapeless black dress squinted at them. “Granny Lupe!” Cat said.
“Did you see the wolf?” Tarika asked. Granny Lupe shook her head. “I see two sneaky
girls who should be in bed. Do you know how dangerous it is to be out alone?” Cat
swallowed. “Do now.” “Good.” Granny Lupe smiled. “Always know exactly how dangerous
something is. Then you can do it better.” Her gaze flicked back toward the house as
she sighed. “That man.” The rattle of the old elevator’s doors opening came from
the front room. Then rubber wheels whirred across the tiles as her father sped up
to the door. “Who’s come!” he demandedf glaring at the street and the lawn andf
finallyf at Cat and Tarika. Cat lifted her shoulders in the smallest shrug
possible. Tarika grinned and gave Cat’s father a little happy wave. “Hif Professor
M. Umf early trick o
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r treat?” “You two are supposed—” he began in fury. Then he looked hard at Granny
Lupe. “I covered that. They’re safe.” Granny Lupe smiled at Cat. “You must expect a
girl to take after her mother.” “I expect nothingf” Professor M snappedf whipping
the wheels of his chair to face Cat. “What kind of fool are you? If something
happened —” He clipped off the sentence before anyone could speakf before Cat could
say what she was thinking: The kind of fool a fool like you would have! He inhaled
deeply. “Kidf getting yourself into trouble is all on you. But dragging Tarika in—”
“My badf” Tarika interrupted. “I thought it would be fun. I’m sorry.” Professor M
turned his gaze from Tarika to Cat like a sniper finding a target. “Nof it wasn’t!”
Cat saidf afraid Tarika would never be allowed to stay over again. “The bad was
totally mine!” Professor M studied her for a longf long momentf then nodded. “Good
theoryf bad practice. If you both confessf you both get sentenced.” He looked down
at the silk
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-wrapped package on the porchf picked it upf and addedf “Well. Another birthday.
Same as it ever was.” Cat saidf “I know what I like.” Granny Lupe said softlyf
“Sentenced? To what?” The two adults stared coldly at each other. Cat wondered who
was more terrifying. Granny Lupe was tinyf no bigger than Catf with a face as
wrinkled as a shrunken head and hair the color of ironf but she stood as straight
and moved as quickly as a ballerina. Her amber eyes saw things that anyone else
would miss. Her Aztec features never showed fear. Nothing made her change her mind.
But Cat had never seen fear on her father’s Mediterranean featuresf and nothing
made him change his mind either. His scars frightened small children who saw him.
His skin was as dark as Granny Lupe’s. His shoulders were broad and his arms were
rippled with muscle. His black hair hung around his head in wild strands because
haircuts were on his Life’s too short for list. If he could have stoodf he would
have been at least a head t
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aller than Granny Lupe. Cat had seen them stare oftenf like gunfighters under the
noonday sun or martial artists in an arena. She knew the rules: the one who looked
away too soon seemed weak; the one who stared too long seemed foolish. Cat saidf
“Can I get punished the day after my birthday?” They glanced at her simultaneously.
Professor M snorted. “You don’t even know what the punishment will be.” “Duh!
Cleaning my room! Sometimes I think you let me keep it a mess so you’ll have a way
to punish me.” “Imagine how you could undercut that by keeping it tidy.” Professor
M closed his eyesf then opened them. “Doesn’t giving you a favor cancel out your
punishment?” “How about two punishments tomorrow for one favor today?” The
professor looked at Granny Lupe. “You’re right. Her mother’s daughter.” Tarika
saidf “I should help Cat.” “Oh?” “We both confessed.” Granny Lupe saidf “Which was
foolish. When there’s no alternativef one sacrifices for the other. Then the
survivor can avenge the fallen.
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” Cat rolled her eyes. “Yesf Granny Lupe.” The professor told Tarikaf “Help her
clean her room over the weekend.” He held out the Halloween Fairy’s package. “And
box up the good china for mailing.” “Mama’s china?” He nodded. “Why?” “I sold it.”
“But—” “Two punishments was the deal.” “You said you’d never sell that! You
promised!” He inhaled deeplyf then saidf “We’ve got expenses.” “Your stupid web
site.” “Including that.” He waggled the silk-wrapped package. His ringf a silver
snake wrapped around a turquoise stonef glinted in the twilight. She saidf “You
could sell your ring.” “Some things can’t be sold.” Your things can’t be sold. But
you sell anything you don’t care aboutf she thoughtf taking the package from his
hand. He turned his stone-faced look away from her. “Since everyone’s upf I’ll
start breakfast.” Tarika saidf “None for mef thanks. I have to get my books from
homef so it’ll be a peanut butter bolillo instead of your awesome pancakes.” The
professor gave her a small nodf t
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hen rolled toward the kitchen. When the door closed behind himf Granny Lupe
whispered in a voice barely louder than a breezef “Don’t tell him about the wolf.”
Cat looked to see the hallway door closing. “Why not?” “Because you don’t know what
you’ll win or lose by telling him.” Tarika saidf “It can’t have been a wolf. Not in
town. It must’ve been some kind of half-wolf.” Granny Lupe smiled. “You are a good
friend for Catalina.” Cat smiled at Tarika. “Evil Dad’s so easy to trick. Having
you help makes it not-a-punishment. It makes it a double-treat with wonder
sprinkles.” Tarika saidf “He might know that.” Cat frowned. Seeing Granny Lupe do
the same made her grin. Every time Cat thought she was the ugliest girl in middle
schoolf she remembered that when she was old and being ugly didn’t matterf she
would look like Granny Lupef only with her father’s stupid brown eyes instead of
Granny Lupe’s beautiful amber ones. Beauty must skip generationsf Cat thoughtf
remembering the painting of her
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mother in her bedroom. Then she thoughtf So I’m fea. At least I get the awesomest
costumes. As Cat yanked open the cords of her Halloween packagef Tarika saidf “Do
you think that’s a Halloween present or a birthday present?” Cat saidf “Do you
think I care?” “It could be a clue who sent it.” “Very truef Nancy Drew.” “Why try
to catch someone who leaves presents?” Granny Lupe askedf “Better to catch those
who don’t and make them sorry.” Cat saidf “Because it’s a mystery.” Tarika nodded.
“And we’re spy girls.” Cat flipped back the wrapping cloth to expose her latest
costume. The silk wrapper held plain white cotton like a heavy sheet. Cat yanked it
outf thinking it must be a second wrapping for her real costumef and it unrolled.
It was a simple dressf floor-lengthf long-sleevedf boat-neckf boring. It came with
white cotton slippers with hemp soles. There was no cape or jacketf no necklace or
earringsf no tiara or crown. The usual cardf in beautiful cursive scriptf saidf
Para la Princesa
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de la Sombra. Cat frowned at the dress. “That isn’t something for a princess.”
Granny Lupe saidf “You’re a princessf no matter what you wear. Never forget it.”
Tarika saidf “Maybe you’re supposed to be a ghost.” “Or the Bride of Frankensteinf”
Cat suggested. “If I had a wig.” Granny Lupe saidf “Princesses can wear simple
clothes.” “Why?” Cat asked. “What’s the point of costumes that are more boring than
your usual clothes?” Professor Mf from the open kitchen doorf calledf “First
pancakes are ready!” Then he addedf “Kidf you don’t have to wear that if you don’t
want to.” Granny Lupe saidf “Your father’s even more foolish than usual this
morning. Why spoil your birthday?” Cat squinted at the white dress. “The Halloween
Fairy spoiled it.” “You haven’t tried it onf” Tarika said. “Might look better than
it looks like it looks.” “You think so?” Tarika grinned and shook her head. “No.
But I might be wrong.” Granny Lupe saidf “Your family will be disappointed if they
don’t see you in this year
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’s costume.” “The de la Sombra family or the Medianoche family?” “De la Sombraf of
coursef” Granny Lupe said. “Whether your father’s people—” Professor M saidf “They
like birthday pictures too.” Cat asked Granny Lupef “Tia Ysabel will be at the
midnight party? Same as usual?” Granny Lupe grinned. “An army could not stop her.”
Cat asked her father. “And Uncle Olujimi and Auntie Fong are coming for dinner?
Same as usual?” “You can depend on them.” The professor glanced at Granny Lupe.
“Always.” “Well. Since it’s for my families—” Cat looked back at the white dress.
It wasn’t a costume. It was a simple evening dress. It must mean she was becoming a
woman. Maybe this birthday would be her best one ever. “I’ll wear itf” she told the
professor. “But if I don’t get a better costume next yearf I’m trick-or-treating as
Lady Godiva.” As Granny Lupe clapped her hands and Tarika laughedf Professor M
saidf “Lady Godiva? Ohf right. She said she would ride through town wearing nothing
but her hairf s
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o her wise father locked her in her room until Halloween was over.” Granny Lupe
saidf “The pancakes are about to burn.” Professor M sniffedf spun his chairf and
raced back into the kitchen. Cat saidf “He’s no fun.” Granny Lupe nodded. “He’s a
Medianoche.” Tarika saidf “He makes great pancakes.” “Like that forgives
everything.” Cat said. “Sometimes it doesf” Tarika agreed. “Maybe that’s why Mama
married himf” Cat saidf and giggled. “It’s a great mysteryf” Granny Lupe saidf
looking into the house. Cat glanced at her. “With a simple answerf” Granny Lupe
added. “Temporary insanity.” “They were in lovef” Cat said. “That’s what I said.”
Tarika asked Granny Lupef “You don’t believe in love?” “Love of lifef love of
familyf love of those who can’t hurt you—” Granny Lupe smiledf showing her longf
white teeth. “Love of sneaky girls who will soon be womenf breaking many hearts.
That’s the kind of love I believe in.” Tarika frowned. “I don’t want to break any
hearts.” “Which will make people love y
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ou even moref and break even more hearts.” “How many hearts did Mama break?” Cat
asked. “One too fewf” Granny Lupe answeredf and she went into the house. Seeing
Tarika watching herf Cat saidf “My family’s too weird.” “Whose isn’t?” “Mine comes
with extra weird sauce.” “Yeah. But I like them.” Cat blinked. “Even Evil Dad?”
“There are eviler dads out there.” “Having the almost-evilest dad in the universe
isn’t exactly comforting. Tee?” “What?” “If I could have you at the midnight partyf
I would. In a second.” “I knowf Cat. It’s a family thing. I think it’s the cool.”
“What? That Granny Lupe and Tia Ysabel like their private party?” “That they
celebrate at the stroke of midnightf right when you were born. It’s like a way to
remember you and your mom at the same time.” “I guess. And I get to dress up and
play princess.” Cat looked at the package with the white gown. “Which isn’t going
to happen this year. But otherwisef it’ll be good.” “That is some coincidence.” Cat
frowned at her. Tarika
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said “That you’re named Medianoche and you were born at midnight.” “Coincidences
happen. Evil Dad says I’m the only Medianoche born at midnight he knows of. It
prob’ly had to happen eventually.” “The true.” Tarika shrugged. “I should go get my
books.” “What about the wolf?” Tarika laughed. “Granny Lupe scared it so bad it’s
halfway to Nogales!” “Okay.” Cat started to go insidef then whirled. “Don’t forget
your not#a-costume for school!” “No worries! The Halloween Fairy screwed upf but
the not-a-costume will be the perfectest.” As Tarika waved and walked awayf Cat
carried the white dress into Casa Medianoche’s great room. She always waited until
evening to put on her costumesf after dinner with the Medianoches and trick-or-
treating with Tarika. She wouldn’t let a boring costume change that. But the white
gown had changed everything. Her home had always been the best place for make-
believe. Now it was just an old house with shabby furnituref worn tile floorsf
dingy plaster wallsf and du
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sty beamed ceilings. The paintings of her male Medianoche ancestors in military
costumes seemed pitiful—there were knightsf cavalry officersf ship’s captainsf and
fighter pilotsf but no generals or admirals. Granny Lupe once said you could see
the history of Spain in the Medianoches: dark features from the Moors and glowering
faces from centuries of war. The Halloween Fairy’s costumes had been strange and
old-fashionedf like Cat’s home. But the white gown belonged to a place she could
barely imaginef where everything was simple and modern and newf and the past never
mattered. When she went into the kitchenf a plate of blueberry-pecan pancakes and a
glass of milk were waiting on the table. Professor M had already gone to his study.
Granny Lupe had returned to the basement. Cat sat and began to eatf thinkingf These
are the best pancakes ever. I would tell Evil Dad that. But he wouldn’t care.
Chapter Two: Heartstopper As Cat passed her father’s study.f he looked up from a
thick book and s
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aidf “Terrifying costumef kid.” She wore a boy’s black suitf a white shirtf a blue
tief and dark sunglassesf all from Goodwill. She nodded and almost kept walking.
The memory of pancakes made her pause. “It’s a not-a-costume.” “Oh?” “Mr. Killjoy
banned costumes at school. He says they’re for children.” “So you’re not a bill
collector? That’s a relief.” “I’m displaying my maturity by dressing like a
productive citizen.” “Because you’re really a secret agent?” “I’m sorry.” Cat
reached into her pocket. “I must kill you now.” She drew a water pistolf grinnedf
and aimed at him in a perfect two-handed grip. He threw his arms over his book.
“Kid! If this got wet—” She felt her grin die. What could she say? Thatf for a
momentf she had thought he was an ordinary father and she was an ordinary daughterf
and they were having an ordinary moment of fun? She put the water gun back in her
pocket. “I wouldn’t have squirted youf” she lied. He watched her as if he wanted to
say something. He would never
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admit his books were more important than she was. She whirled and raced
downstairsf shoutingf “Byef Granny Lupe!” so her father would hear that she didn’t
say goodbye to him. Granny Lupe calledf “Let me see the not-a-costume!” Cat ran to
the top of the basement stairs and turned like a runway model. From the shadows
belowf Granny Lupe saidf “Ah. The best bad girls wear men’s clothes. I remember a
masque where Lucrezia Borgia—” “I’ll be late! Tell me later!” Cat snatched her book
bag and ran outside. The rising sun was just below the Rincon Mountains. Cat
thought that if she could paint like Tarikaf she would paint Luna Street with its
smallf southwestern houses in desert colorsf burnt redf fire orangef and cactus
greenf all washed in soft blue light. She started toward the corner where she
usually met Tarika. Someone was walking toward her. Her first thought: Tee had
arrived early and was coming to meet her. But Tee was always late. Like Tarikaf the
stranger was slender. Alone on the
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streetf he seemed tall. He walked with a lazy gracefulness like a dancer or a
hunting beast. She thoughtf He’s beautiful and terrifying and coming toward me.
Look away! She flicked her gaze down. Don’t be stupid. Older boys don’t notice
ninth#graders. At leastf not geeky little ones with big noses. He must be looking
at something behind me. On second glancef to her relieff he did not look beautiful
or terrifying. He was lean and dark and handsomef but Tucson was filled with boys
who were lean and dark and far handsomer. He wore a black denim jacketf faded blue
jeansf black cowboy bootsf and a loose white shirt. His face was narrow; his
cheekbonesf high; his nosef like a hawk’s. He was taller than Catf but he was not
tall— everyone her age and older was taller than she was. His hair was in wild
tuftsf as if he had been runningf but he walked like someone who never hurried. His
eyes were the color of honey. When he showed his gleaming teeth in a smilef she
thoughtf He’s looking at me! An
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d I look like some idiot kid who’s staring at him! She turned her eyes awayf
desperately seeking anything that someone would naturally look at. Her cheeks
burned. She wondered if he could see her blush. She had walked along Luna Street
all her life. There was nothing special to stare at. If she kept looking sidewaysf
she might bump into him. That would be the most embarrassing. She glanced aheadf
expecting him to pass by without a glance. But he stood still in the middle of the
sidewalk. His smile was wider. His teeth were as bright as a movie star’s. He saidf
“Catalina.” His voice was pleasantf with a hint of a Central or South American
accent. She was gawkingf she realized. She closed her mouth and told herself to
walk on. But his cockiness annoyed herf and she was only afraid because he was
handsome and confidentf and oncef when she made a list of the things she hated
about herselff being too shy to talk to boys came right after her nose. She saidf
“If you’re a pervf I’ll scream and
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knee you in the cojones. I took karate.” His grin grew wider. His golden eyes held
her gaze. “Really?” Saying that she took three weeks of karate to be with her best
friendf then dropped out because she was a klutzf would not impress anyone.
“Reallyf karate. Not really scream first. The dad says knee first.” The handsome
boy laughed. “He would.” She squinted in suspicion. “You know the dad?” “The
professor would say we’ve met.” She glanced up the street. No one was at the corner
where Tarika usually waited. There was time to talk with a handsome strangerf
though a voice in the back of her head whisperedf Never talk to strangers. “Is that
how you know my name?” “No.” “If you knew the dadf you’d know no one calls me
Catalina.” She lifted her chin and brushed past himf thinkingf Yeahf handled that
well. When I tell Teef she’ll say I’m the awesome. His voice stopped her like a
gentle hand on her shoulder. “Cat.” She looked back. “Everyone calls you thatf” he
said. “Except Granny Lupef who
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calls you Little Terror when you amuse her and Little Miracle when you make her
proudf and Professor Mf who never says your name. Which is Catalina Milagros
Medianoche. Today is your fourteenth birthday. You’re old enough to marryf in some
lands.” Close mouthf knee pervf run. I wish he wasn’t handsome. Cat saidf “Who are
you?” “Baldomero de la Sombra.” “No way.” He blinkedf eyes largef mouth puzzled. “I
don’t lie. Not to you.” “Cousin Baldomero has got to be way older than you.” His
annoying smile returned. “Why?” His hawk nose and amber eyes were like her mother’s
in the painting in her bedroom. She had studied that face every dayf wondering what
her life would have been like if she had grown up with two parents. “How come I
never saw you?” “Did you ask the professor?” “He doesn’t talk about Mama’s family.”
“Or Granny Lupe?” “She says you’re too busy with your foolishness.” He laughed
fondly. “I’ve missed her.” She thoughtf A gorgeous cousin I never knew. The cool.
Will Tee crush on
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him? Of course. I kind of am. She looked back toward Casa Medianoche. The faded red
velvet drapes were drawn on the ground floor. Its flaking white plaster and the
brown weeds in the front yard embarrassed her. She saidf “Granny Lupe’s probably
asleep already.” As his eyes narrowedf she addedf “You knowf ‘cause of her
porphyria. The sunlight.” He looked toward the mountains. The sun was reaching the
crestf casting a red glow in the morning haze. She thoughtf Red sky in morningf
sailor take warning. He looked back at her. “You look like your motherf when she
was young.” She shook her head. “No way. Mama was beautiful.” “Yesf” he said
simply. She thoughtf He’s not saying I’m beautiful. He’s saying Mama was beautiful.
He’s family. Family always say you look better than you do. He addedf “A shame you
have your father’s eyes.” She swallowed to hide a stab of disappointmentf because
he was right. Then he looked closer. “No. They suit you. They’re black ice in his
facef but in yoursf they’re
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the mystery and promise of night.” He smelled like smoke and pinef something
familiar and wild. His eyes seemed to glow like moonlight. She thoughtf Baldomero.
I would do anything for you. He stepped back. “Someone’s watching. A friend?” She
shook her head to clear itf saw him frownf realized he had misunderstoodf and
nodded as she looked up the street. Tarikaf in a man’s dark suit and shades like
Cat’sf was approaching the far corner. “Tee. My best friend.” Baldomero’s frown
slid easily into a smile. “You’re gangsters?” Cat drew her squirt gun. “This is—”
He caught her wrist before she could point it at him. His hand was cool on her skin
and so firm that she couldn’t move her armf yet so gentle that she barely felt his
grip. She finishedf “—a stick-up?” He smiledf released her wristf and spread his
arms wide. “Forgive me. Should you wish to take anything elsef I’m at your mercy.”
“Anything else?” “In addition to my heart.” His smile made her think of a puppy.
She laughed and squirted
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him in the eyes. He jumped backf shook water from himself like a dogf and saidf
“You don’t believe me?” “‘In addition to my heart?’ Who would believe a line like
that?” His eyes narrowed. “Huh. It must be harder to be convincing when I believe
what I say.” She squirted him again. “Yeahf right.” He laughedf then looked at the
skyf then back at her. “I must go. Don’t tell anyone I spoiled the surprise.” “What
surprise?” “That I’m here. No one expects me until tonightf at your party. It’ll be
our secret?” “Our secretf” she agreed. He noddedf turnedf and began striding down
Deseo Street. She heard Tee callf “Holaf La Gata! We’ll be late!” Cat turned and
began running down the block. On the far side of the streetf Tarika was skipping
between the curb and the sidewalk. Cat grinned. Last nightf they had watched
Singing in the Rain. Tarika was improvising a dance like Gene Kelly’s. Reaching the
curbf Cat glanced both ways. An orange van slowed as it approached the stop sign.
She began to cross
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f callingf “Tee! That’s perfect!” The loud caw of a raven made her look back. The
orange van was speeding up as it shot through the intersection. Tarika screamedf
“Cat!” The van was dusty and spattered with mud. The inside was dark. Someone sat
behind the wheel in a blue jacketf white glovesf and a Donald Duck mask. Cat
thoughtf He’ll hit the brakes. There must be something wrong with the brakes.
Should she jump backf run forwardf or stand still and hope Donald swerved? She
tried to see which way he would go. Then she saw the answer: Straight at her.
Tarika shoutedf “Run!” And Cat ran forwardf knowing she could never be fast enough.
Something slammed into the small of her backf throwing her into Tarika’s arms. As
Tarika jerked her onto the sidewalkf the van shot by. Cat spun to see what had
happened. The white wolf was chasing the van. The van squealed around the next
corner. Cat just had time to read the lettering on its side: Arkan Exterminators.
No job too big or too small. The wolf
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followed the van around the cornerf and both were gone. In the silencef Cat
thoughtf A wolf saved me from Donald Duck. No. Donald couldn’t have been aiming at
me. He must’ve lost control of the van. Maybe he was having trouble seeing through
his mask. It was an accident. A stupid accident. And a shaggy white dog bumped into
me. Another accident. Nothing unusual. One bit of bad luckf one bit of good. It’s
perfectly ordinary. She began to tremble. Not a dog. A wolf. That looked just like
the one that tried to steal my present. But there can’t be wolves in Tucson. It
must be a wild dog in the neighborhoodf that’s all. Tarika wrapped her arms around
her and squeezed her hard. “Cat? You okay?” She noddedf though she wasn’t.
Everything around her seemed bright and fragile. She saidf “Was that the same
wolf?” “Or the same wolf-dog mix. We should call the police.” “Because of the wolf-
dogs?” “Because someone nearly killed you. That wolf-dog-whatever saved you.” “Oh.
Right.” Tarika reached int
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o her back packf but Cat saidf “I shouldf” and got out her cell phone. As soon as
the dispatcher answeredf Cat saidf “An orange van ran a stop sign and nearly hit
me. It turned off De Anza onto Jeffordsf heading downtown. The side says Arkan
Exterminators. The driver’s wearing a Donald Duck mask. He must be drunk or
something. He didn’t try to brake.” The dispatcher saidf “No one was hurt?” “No. A
dog—” Cat stopped. What’s strangerf nearly being run over or being saved by a wolf?
“What about a dog?” “Nothing. It almost hit a dogf too. I’m okayf but that guy
should be caught.” “Don’t worryf Miss. He should be easy to find.” Cat gave her
namef addressf and phone numberf thanked the dispatcherf and clicked off her cell.
Tarika saidf “Cat? You sure you’re good?” She nodded for Tarika’s sakef not because
she believed it. “Good enough. Gooderf anyway. Where did the wolf-whatzit come
from?” “Totally nowhere. Did you see its teeth? If it catches the vanf that duck’s
dinner.” “A wolf can’t hurt
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a van.” “If that one was after mef I wouldn’t feel safe in a tank.” Tarika hugged
Cat again. “I’m just glad it likes you.” “Totally ditto.” Tarika released her and
stepped back. “Cat?” “What?” “Remember me talking about the new boy in karate? The
cute one?” “Not the cute one in your painting class?” “No.” “Or the cute one in
your dance class?” “Catf this isn’t about my infinite crushing. It’s serious.” “The
tenth-grader? Ilya something?” Tarika nodded. “Ilya Arkan.” Cat stared at her. “We
should call the cops back.” “You told them the name on the van. Let them handle
it.” “Right.” As they started toward schoolf Cat saidf “Could it have been Ilya?”
“No way!” “Good.” “I meanf it couldn’t have been.” “Because he’s cute?” “And nice.
And why would he wear a mask if he was driving a truck with his last name on it?”
Tarika shook her head. “Too weirdf Catgirl. Definitely let the police handle it.
Heyf who were you talking to earlier?” “My cousin Baldomero. Now tell me he’s the
cutest boy ever
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.” “Cute?” Tarika shrugged. “I didn’t notice.” “Wait. La Artista Who Notices All
The Cute People didn’t notice Baldomero?” “I just noticed you were talking to some
guy.” Her frown deepened. “I don’t remember what he looked like. A really ordinary
guyf right?” Cat laughed. “A really ordinaryf absolutely gorgeousf kind of scary
guy. I’m not the only one kind of shook up by that van.” “Scary?” Cat saidf “Like—”
and stopped before she spoke the rest of her thought. Golden eyes. “Like what?”
“This sounds crazy.” “Like that’ll surprise me.” “Kind of like a wolf.” Tarika
stared at Cat while Cat thoughtf I sound like I’ve gone crazy. Maybe I have. Then
Tarika smiled. “After this morningf you’ll be seeing wolves all day. I hope they
catch that dog soon.” “Definitely ditto.” * Because they arrived ten minutes latef
Cat and Tarika were sent straight to the principal’s office. Lovejoyf standing
behind the front deskf towered over themf even over Tarika. He wore his usual dark
suitf white shirtf an
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d dark tie. He saidf “Catalina Medianoche and Tarika Soto. It’s always a pleasure
to start my day with you two ladies. One week detention hallf starting todayf for
the Blues Sisters.” Cat saidf “Why?” “You know the costume policy.” “Are you in a
costume?” “Of course not.” “Then we’re not.” “Hmm.” He stroked his goatee.
“Obviously you aref or you wouldn’t have been sent here.” Tarika saidf “We were
sent here because we were late.” Lovejoy nodded. “Better and better. Two weeks
detention.” Tarika saidf “Because Cat was nearly run over!” Lovejoy blinked at Cat.
“Is this a joke?” Cat shook her head. “Call the police. We made a 9-1-1.” Lovejoy
saidf “Wait heref” and went in his office. After a minutef he came back and said
gentlyf “Sorry. No detention. You may go back to class.” He turned to the mirror
and straightened his tie. “After allf can’t blame you for wanting to look sharp.”
Cat saidf “Sir? Did they find the driver?” “Just the vanf” Lovejoy replied. “A few
blocks from where it was st
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olen. It must’ve been a kid on a joyride.” Tarika saidf “It was stolen?” Lovejoy
nodded. “Which is not your problem now. Your problem is getting back to class while
you still have my sympathy. That’s good for another forty-five seconds.” He glanced
at his watch. “Nof thirty-five. Nof twenty-five—” Tarika tugged Cat’s wrist. “We’re
gone.” In the halltf Cat smiled at Tarika. “I could turn cartwheels all the way to
class.” “Because we didn’t get detention?” “Because the weird is over. Halloween
can be normal now.” “Maybe there should be some weird on Halloween.” “Yeah.
Predictable weirdf like people in brilliant costumesf and surprise partiesf and new
kinds of candy in your trick or treat bag. Good weird. Not bad weird. “ Tarika
nodded. “Ilya will be glad they found his mom’s van.” “Wanting to forget about itf
Tee.” “Did I say he’s cute?” “Did I say wanting to forget about it?” “Sorryf Cat.
Really not so good at forgetting cute boys with Hungarian accents.” Cat glanced at
her. “Excuse me.
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What day is it?” Tarika nodded. “The true. And the very sorry. For the rest of the
dayf it’s totally about you.” Cat grinned. “You are Official Best Friend Ever.” And
before Tarika could say another wordf Cat jerked open the door of their classroom.
Trick Zapia looked up as they entered. Cat met his eyesf thinkingf Yesf he’s
definitely the cutest boy in ninth gradef and maybe in school. She looked away
without feeling the slightest bit embarrassed. Why had she thought he was so
handsome? Why had she been afraid he would notice her? Even more importantlyf why
had she been hoping he would? He was just a cute boy in the ninth grade. He wasn’t
a young man with eyes like a wolf’s. * At lunchtimef Cat carried her tray through
the crowded cafeteria. Her path was blocked by a group of studentsf laughing
together. She saidf “‘Scuse me.” They turned to look at her. The group included
Trick Zapia and his twin sisterf Terese. Terese saidf “It’s the midnight girl! Did
you hear your papi’s web cast
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yet? Did you know there might be supernaturales among us?” She hugged herself and
shudderedf making her friends laugh as she addedf “Very scaryf guapos y guapas!”
Cat stared at her. “Not half as scary as you.” Terese blinked. “Ohf the fraidy cat
isn’t running away as usual?” Cat thoughtf No wayf and kept staring. Terese blinked
againf then shuddered slightlyf but this time no one laughed. Trick saidf “More
like a wildcatf” and smiled. The mood changed instantlyf and everyone laughedf but
not like before. They weren’t laughing at Cat. They were laughing with Trick. Cat
told himf “I always thought you were nicer than your friends.” Trick quirked his
lipsf a little puzzledf a little amused. “I try to be nice.” “You’ll make someone a
good boyfriend someday. But not me.” She turned and walked toward her usual table
at the end of the room. Behind herf Terese muttered something about “una gata
loca.” Cat thoughtf Why am I so brave today? Maybe after nearly being eaten by a
wolf and driven ov
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er by someone in a maskf school cliques seem totally unimportant. A boy in a faded
jeans jacket was sitting at their usual table. Tarika was still at the counterf
trying to decide which vegetarian option looked least disgusting. Cat scanned the
room. There were no unoccupied tables. She inhaled deeplyf then started forward. If
she could face down the Zapia twins and their cliquef she could face down some boy
she’d never seen before. Things should be as they always were on Halloweenf which
included eating with Tarika at their usual table. She set her tray kitty-corner
from him and saidf “This table’s reserved for ninth#grade losers.” He shrugged. “I
do not mind this.” His accent was barely noticeable. His eyes were the color of
milk chocolate. His hair was shaggy and reddish-brown. He had a wide jawf a crooked
nosef and a small scar by his left eye. Cat thoughtf He might’ve tried to kill me.
The boy addedf “I’ve been a ninth-grade loser. Being a tenth-grade loser is not as
wonderful as
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I expected. But I’m sure that when I’m an eleventh-grade loserf that will be
wonderful.” He smiledf and Cat thoughtf Paranoid muchf Cat Medianoche. The innocent
until proven guiltyf right? She saidf “You’re Ilya Arkan.” He grinned wider than
before. “Tenth-grade losers are famous in Tucson? In Budapestf we losers weref ahf
anonny-moose?” “Anonymousf” Cat saidf deciding it was safe to smile back.
“Anonymousf” Ilya repeated. “I like this word. Anonymous. Alsof incognito. It is
mad cool. That I likef too. Mad cool. Why does English have so many rules when
English-speakers love to ignore them?” “It gives English teachers something to do.”
“Yesf” he agreedf nodding. “You’re Cat Medianoche.” “I am?” she saidf then heard
herself. “I meanf yeah. But how —” “Tarika Soto said her best friend was one of the
two coolest chicas in Tucson.” Tarikaf arriving behind Catf saidf “I said Cat’s my
best friend ever.” Ilya shrugged. “Which makes her one of the two coolest chicas in
Tucsonf yes?” “In Arizona
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.” Tarika gave them both a smile as she sat by Cat. “You introduced yourselves?”
Before Ilya could answerf Cat pointed at the soccer ball next to his backpack.
“Shouldn’t you sit with the jocks?” He squinted at her. “Must I sit with the same
people always?” “It’s one of the unwritten rules. But if you go back to the jocks
and say two geeks sat down with youf you’ll be forgiven.” “You want me to go?” “For
your own good.” Cat thoughtf And so I won’t have to wonder if you were driving the
van that nearly ruined my birthday forever. Tarika saidf “Your mom must be glad
they found her van.” Ilya blinked. “Our van was lost?” “Stolen. This morning.” When
his frown deepenedf Tarika addedf “Must’ve been after you left for school. The
driver almost hit Cat.” Ilya jerked his head to stare at Cat with something like
fear or suspicion. “You saw this driver?” She shook her head. “He wore a Donald
Duck mask.” “Oh.” Ilya looked away. A boy sitting with the soccer jocks saw his
glance and calledf “Heyf
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Arkanf what’re you doing at the ooky-spooky table?” Cat saidf “See how it works?”
Ilya saidf “Ooky and spooky?” “The dad has a web site about creepy stuff.” “Ah.”
Ilya stoodf grabbed his bag and trayf looked at the soccer jocksf then at Tarikaf
but not Cat. “Yes. I should go now.” As he walked quickly awayf Cat saidf “Another
victim of the unwritten rule. What a jerk.” “Thought you wanted him to go.” “Wanted
to see if he’d crumble under peer pressure.” Tarika nodded. “Maximum jerk. I heard
some girl thought he was cute. Can you believe that?” “All kinds of crazy rumors go
around school.” Cat glanced back at Ilya. He passed the soccer jocks and went outf
putting a phone to his ear. He was not part of a proper Halloween. Why wasn’t she
glad he was gone? Chapter Three: Tricks and Treats When Cat got homef Casa
Medianoche was quiet. Granny Lupe always napped in the afternoonf but Professor M
was gone. So was his black van. What I should dof she thoughtf is start on my
homework. Everything
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else can wait. She went to her computer. Homework can wait a minute. Googling
“Arkan Exterminators Tucson” gave her an address and told her the business had just
opened. The home page had a picture of Alexandra Arkanf a prettyf athletic woman in
gray coveralls. Her hair was reddish brownf like Ilya’s. Homework can wait half an
hour. She bicycled the half-mile to Arkan Exterminatorsf planning ways to ask Ms.
Arkan who might have stolen the van. The police couldn’t say anything without
prooff but Ms. Arkan might know. Orf at leastf have strong suspicions. But as Cat
was about to turn onto 22nd Streetf she saw her father’s black van parked in front
of Arkan Exterminators. She blinkedf telling herself there were many black vans in
Tucson. But the license plate had the wheelchair symbolf and on the bumper was the
sticker she gave him for his birthday: When you’re out of coffeef I’m out of here.
The van’s side door began to open. Cat stomped on the pedals to shoot past 22nd
Street. Had he se
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en her? She still wore the dark boy’s suitf not her usual purple hoodie. The street
was busy. He had no reason to notice a bicyclist half a block away when he was busy
lowering his chair to the sidewalk. Why hadn’t she ridden up and saidf “Fancy
meeting you heref stranger”? You’re being sillyf Cat. Ride backf sayf “What a
coincidencef Paternal Unit!” and put your suspicions to rest. The alley was a good
place to turn aroundf so she swung into it. It was also the way to the back of
Arkan Exterminators. She was only taking a short cutf she told herselff as she
approached the parking area behind the orange cinderblock building. She could see
light through the grill of the rear security door. The inner door was open. As Cat
hesitatedf straddling her bike and telling herself she shouldn’t spy on her fatherf
she heard a woman speak angrily in a language Cat didn’t know. When the woman saidf
“Ilya!” as if she expected obediencef Cat knew who she was. A chime announced
someone opening the fron
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t door. Cat heard rubber wheels rolling across linoleum. Ms. Arkan said something
that must have meant “bye”f then asked in a pleasantf husky voicef “How may I help
—” When she fell silentf Cat rolled up to the door to peer inside. She saw shelves
filled with cardboard boxesf but she could not see Ms. Arkan or her father. Then he
spokef so quietly Cat could barely hear him. “If it weren’t youf Xandra —” “But it
is mef Val. Don’t speak of ‘if.’ There is what there is. It must be dealt with.”
“It’s my concern.” “You’re still a fool! The danger—” “Is mine.” “Is far more than
that! Or have you come to think only you matter?” “I know what matters.” His voice
was so quiet and harsh that Cat was afraid for Ms. Arkan. If Ms. Arkan felt the
same fearf she hid it with a laugh. “Ahf Val! Do not threaten me. Not now.” “I can
still do what I must. My arms might be stronger than before. On flat surfacesf I
move faster. My mind—” “You’re obsessed!” When he spokef he sounded like the man
Cat knew. “Not
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long agof my daughter would’ve saidf ‘Takes one to know one.’” Cat could hear a
sad smile in Ms. Arkan’s voice. “My son also. We pay a high price for the lives we
chose.” “Yes.” “I should not let you—” “You don’t letf Alexandra. You stay out.”
“For now.” “Until I’ve failed.” “Then you’ll let us—” “Then I won’t be able to stop
you.” “Ah.” Cat heard his wheels turningf then stop. He saidf “Xandra?” “Yesf Val?”
“You should’ve come to me.” “Would anything have been different?” After a momentf
he said softlyf “No.” The bell chimed as the door opened again. With the whisper of
his wheelsf he was gone. Ms. Arkan said several words Cat didn’t know and was glad
were not directed at her. She heard the click of a cell phone openingf and another
burst of what must be Hungarian. It was quickf efficientf and almost emotionlessf
except when Ms. Arkan said “Valentin Medianoche.” A raven’s call made Cat look
away. If she stayedf she would be caught by Ms. Arkan. The idea scared her. She
felt as if her
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father’s warning to stay out of this had been aimed as much at her as Ms. Arkan.
But how could she stay out when she didn’t know if she was in? She took the next
street south of De Anza and pedaled as hard as she couldf barely slowing to glance
both ways at stop signs. Her father could do some things faster in a wheelchair
than with two good legsf but getting in and out of the van wasn’t one. On streets
with many stop signsf Cat could ride faster than he could drive. At leastf she
hoped so. Her legs and lungs ached. The October afternoon felt too warm. She was
afraid for her fatherf the man who had always made sure she had what she needed.
She was afraid of her fatherf the man who spoke so coldly to Ms. Arkan. She was
afraid for herself. Should she be watching for the return of the person in the
Donald Duck mask? Or for something worse? She raced down Luna Street and braked
hard beside Casa Medianoche. Her father’s black van was rolling into the old
carriage house. She waited until it
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was insidef then dragged her bike up the front stepsf dropped it on the porchf ran
through the house to the back stairsf and glanced out. Her father was rolling
toward the side door. She ran down into the basement. Granny Lupe was lying
perfectly still on her back on her narrow bed. The light from the TV flickered over
her wrinkled facef etching deep shadows even deeper. Her chest barely moved. Cat
touched her shoulder. Granny Lupe sat upf opening her mouth wide. Then she jerked
backf sayingf “Cat! I told you! Never wake me without warning!” “I should wake you
to warn you I’m about to wake you?” Granny Lupe laughed. “Ahf my fury! Just don’t
come so quietly. Give an old woman time to prepare for a welcome visitor.” “Sorry.
Do you know anyone named Arkan?” Granny Lupe snarled in angerf then saw Cat’s
amazement and smiled. “Does that answer you?” “Ilya Arkan?” “No.” For some reasonf
Cat was glad. Ilya was a jerkf but she didn’t want him to be more than a jerk.
“Alexandra Arkan?” “Is she
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dead?” “No.” “A shame. Is she in Tucson?” Cat nodded. Granny Lupe hissedf then
breathed deeply. “If I hadn’t told your father I wouldn’t swear in front of youf I
would swear now.” “I’ll be fourteen. You can’t shock me.” “Fierce onef if I told
you how I feel about Alexandra Arkanf I would shock you.” “Why?” Granny Lupe looked
upward. As Professor M’s wheels came through the kitchenf he calledf “Cat?” “Down
here!” “Ahf” he said and rolled away. Cat repeatedf “Why do you hate Ms. Arkan?”
“Because—” Granny Lupe waggled a finger at her. “You don’t need to know everything.
Not yet.” “I need to know this.” Granny Lupe stroked Cat’s hair with cool fingers.
“Well. That woman was competition for your father’s heart.” “I thought you didn’t
like Evil Dad. Wouldn’t you have been happier if he had married her?” Granny Lupe
put both hands on Cat’s cheeks. “Then you wouldn’t have been born. And I will grant
this. He made your mother happyf for a time. The Arkan woman—” Granny Lupe
shrugged. “Well. She
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tried everything to keep them apart.” “Could she hate me because Mama won and she
lost?” “Who cares what an Arkan thinks? I promise youf now that I know she’s heref
she won’t trouble you for much longer.” “Thanksf Granny Lupe.” Cat glanced at the
time on her cell and stood. “Where are you going?” “To get ready for dinner with
Uncle Olujimi and Auntie Fong.” Granny Lupe wincedf then smiled. “Tell them I think
of them often.” “You could join us. I closed all the curtains.” “Nof my terror.”
Granny Lupe took Cat’s chin in her hand and peered into her eyes. “Some things
cannot be. It’s not because I don’t love you. And I’ll give them this much. It’s
not because they don’t love you.” Cat shrugged. “It’s cool. I get two birthday
celebrationsf dinner with them and a party with you and Tia Ysabel.” She caught
herself in time to keep from sayingf And Cousin Baldomero. A secret should stay a
secret. She liked knowing she and Baldomero shared something no one else knew. She
addedf “Next yearf we
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could reverse that.” Granny Lupe smiled. “The de la Sombras prefer parties to
dinners.” “Okay. See you after trick or treating.” “You’re old enough to prefer
tricks to treatsf you know.” Cat sighedf “Yesf Granny.” She ran up to the hallf
then gasped in surprise. Her father was sitting by the front door. He said quietlyf
“Kid. Is there something you’d like to tell me?” Had he seen her at Ms. Arkan’s
building? As blood rushed to her cheeksf she realized she was assuming too much.
“Did the police call you?” “Yes.” “I was going to tell youf but I forgot.” “You
forgot you were nearly run over?” She shrugged. “It missed me. No biggie.” He shook
his head. “Kidf nearly getting hit by a car is a biggie.” She wanted to throw her
arms around him and say she was more afraid than she had ever been. She wanted to
know that he would find the driver of the orange van and make her fear go away. She
shrugged as if she didn’t care and saidf “I went to tell you when I got home. You
were out.” “Had to retu
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rn some books to the library.” She studied him. He could have been lying to her all
his life. Shouldn’t a daughter be able to know when her father lied? A car door
slammed in the street. Professor M saidf “That must be —” Cat turned and ran to the
front door. Throwing it openf she calledf “Uncle Olujimi! Auntie Fong!” and raced
out to meet them. As a man in a white suit and a woman in a black one came from the
taxif Cat thought anyone could tell they were her father’s familyf even if they
came from distant branches. So what if Uncle Olujimi was a stocky Yoruban who
shaved his head and Auntie Fong was a tall Chinese with long white hair? Uncle
Olujimi and Auntie Fong had the same dark brown eyes as her fatherf and Auntie Fong
had the grim look that said any price is better than surrender. Like her fatherf
Uncle Olujimi and Auntie Fong wore silver rings shaped like snakes wrapped around
gems. Uncle Olujimi’s was an onyxf and Auntie Fong’s was a sapphire. The only time
Cat ever saw Granny
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Lupe frown as if she was truly angry was when she looked at those rings. Cat threw
her arms around Uncle Olujimif and he pulled her into a big hug. “Heyf Tiger! How
is it you get more gorgeous every year?” She grinned as she let go of him. “Best
uncle ever!” Auntie Fong held out her hand. As Cat took itf Auntie Fong saidf “You
look wellf child.” “Thanksf Auntie.” Professor M braked just behind Catf then
pushed against his armrests to standf sayingf “Olujimif mi hermano!” They huggedf
and Professor M addedf “How are the Udofias?” Olujimi’s grin grew wider. “My family
is wellf thank you. Dayo is expecting a child. How are the Medianochesf my
brother?” Professor M saidf “The ones in Tucson are glad you’re here. Last I heardf
the Spaniards are still doing the same old things in the same old ways.” “People
like traditionf” Auntie Fong saidf nodding to him. “It binds us.” “That’s the word
I’d usef” said Professor M. “How are the Fongs?” Auntie Fong narrowed her eyes at
him. “Have you heard
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of any trouble in our part of the world?” “No.” “Then you know.” “Excuse mef” said
Catf looking at the shopping bags that Olujimi held. “It’s Selfish Birthday Girl
Dayf and that looks like—” “Dinner from Maya Quetzal!” said Olujimi. “Pupusasf
chips and salsaf chile rostizadof chile rellenof borracho beansf ricef fresh corn
tortillasf quesadilla with mangoes —” He sighed. “I have missed this country.” Cat
looked at the bag in Auntie Fong’s hand. “That doesn’t look like food.” Auntie Fong
saidf “No.” “I’m the luckiest girl everf” Cat saidf thinkingf This is how Halloween
is supposed to be. “I hope you aref” said Auntie Fong. When they went insidef to
everyone’s surprisef Granny Lupe was waiting in the shadows of the parlor. She
looked at the shopping bagsf sniffedf and saidf “As if I would poison the lot of
you.” Everyone was quiet for a second. Then Auntie Fong began to laughf and the
rest joined inf except for Professor M. Cat asked Granny Lupef “You’ll eat with us
after all?” “No.” Sh
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e smiled at Auntie Fong. “I just didn’t want anyone to think I was hiding from
them.” “We have no illusions about youf” Auntie Fong repliedf and held out her bag
to Cat. “You might as well open this now.” Cat yanked wrapping paper off the top of
the bagf then pulled out a pair of roller skates. “Purple! The perfect!” With a
glance at Granny Lupef Auntie Fong saidf “Just something to get you out in the sun
more.” Granny Lupe saidf “A quiet way to travel is especially useful at night.”
Olujimif looking at the two old womenf saidf “Some things never change.” He grinned
at Cat. “There might be something in my pockets for you.” And then he did his usual
trick of reaching into different pockets of his clothes and handing Cat something
from each. This timef he had a dream catcher from an Ojibwe tribe in Canadaf a
small bronze statue of an elephant-headed god from Indiaf a porcelain Buddha from
Chinaf and a silver cross on a necklace from Italy. Each gift made Granny Lupe
smilef except for the
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crossf which made her laugh. Granny Lupe left them before dinner. Professor M
never seemed quite as evil when Olujimi was around. The professor was still quietf
and his face was still grimf but when Olujimi laughedf Professor M would rock back
in his chair slightly and nod as if he was laughing too. As Cat was finishing
dinnerf her cell vibrated. She checked the screen: “TRICKORTREAT?” She tapped “Y
<3” and saidf “Gotta go. Tee’s expecting me. I’m glad you could come.” Auntie Fong
saidf “We had business with your father anyway.” Olujimi saidf “Which meansf we’re
very glad we could comef too.” Cat hugged himf shook hands with Auntie Fongf nodded
to Professor Mf and started for the front door. In the hallf when the professor
rolled up behind herf she looked back in surprise. He saidf “Kidf be careful out
there.” “I know. Run and screamf and if someone tries to force me anywheref fight
them. In that order.” She pulled the front door open. “Don’t worry. I’ve got my
cell.” “It’s charged?”
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As she glanced back at himf he saidf “Stupid father question. You’re a teen. Of
course your cell phone’s charged. One more thing.” “What?” she saidf barely keeping
the exasperation from her voice. He turned his head in the expression thatf if she
had not known how humorless and self-absorbed he wasf she might have mistaken for a
smile. “Have fun.” “I willf” she saidf and ran outf determined that no matter what
happenedf she would make that come true. * Tarika’s house was like most houses in
Tucson’s Barrio del Rio: smallf stuccoedf with a red tile rooff burnt orange wallsf
and purple trim around the doors and windows. When Cat rang the bellf a tall
skeleton in a dark suit opened the front door and saidf “You’re late.” “Like that’s
different.” The skeleton saidf “On Halloween.” “Uncle Olujimi kept telling funny
stories about his kids and wives. He’s so nice he likes Evil Dad. Alsof something
happened.” “No talk.” Tarika yanked Cat inside. “The maestro must work.” “But I’ve
got to tell y
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ou about this afternoon!” “Which is why I’ll do your hands first.” Tarika dragged
Cat to her roomf a mash-up of Mexico and Africa. Against one wall were an acoustic
guitarf a keyboardf a doumbekf and a hammered dulcimer. One corner of the room was
bare so Tarika could dance. One wall had a mural she had painted of her heroes.
Muhammad rode a flying horse through the night skyf Jesus walked above a lake
during a stormf and Shakira danced in space with the earthf the moonf and the sun
behind her. Below the mural was lettered in gold paintf You are a song written by
the hands of God. Cat dropped onto a big pillow on the floor. While Tarika painted
finger bones on her skinf Cat told everything she had seen and heard about her trip
to Arkan Exterminators. When she finishedf she askedf “What do you think?” “I’m
with Granny Lupe. Ms. Arkan’s a stalker ex-girlfriend.” “And someone stole her van
and nearly hit me? Big coincidence.” Tarika shrugged. “If there weren’t
coincidencesf there wouldn’t
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be a word for them. Is Ms. Arkan dumb enough to run someone over in a car with her
name on the side?” “Maybe someone wanted to frame her.” “You think your dad could
have two stalker girlfriends? Someone reads too much manga.” “Would a stalker show
up after fourteen years?” “Why not? Your dad’s the hot.” “The hot? Evil Dad?”
“Totally Heathcliffy.” Cat frowned. “He’s like a cartoon cat?” “He’s like the guy
in Wuthering Heights. I would so stalk him.” “Laf laf la!” Cat stuck her fingers in
her ears. “I’m not creeped out.” Tarika pulled Cat’s wrists down. “If I was old and
into Heathcliffsf which I’m not. I want a boy who can laughf like Trick or Ilya.”
As she began painting Cat’s facef Tarika addedf “You ever see any of the old
Professor Midnight videos? From before you were born?” “No. Like the new ones
aren’t embarrassing enough.” “He wasn’t Heathcliffy then. He joked around. Like he
knew his show was sillyf but he didn’t caref because he loved sharing what he knew
about monsters and a
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ll. I’ll bet he was one of those guys who could’ve been with any straight girl or
gay boy he wantedf only he was too clueless to know it.” “Not doubting the
clueless.” Tarika set down the makeup. “You’re awful hard on him.” “How often does
your mom tell you she loves you?” “Umf every day? At least.” “Evil Dad never said
he loved me.” “Catf he takes great care of you.” “That’s ‘cause he’s got an ego
thing about being responsible. I think I was an accidentf so he feels obliged to
pay for it.” “That’s more than some fathers do.” “Yeah. I don’t call him Evilest
Dadf do I?” Cat nodded at the makeup. “Who’s wasting time now?” Tarika resumed
painting Cat’s face. “Why don’t you think Ms. Arkan’s just a stalker girlfriend?”
“‘Cause they were talking about danger. About his arms being strong.” “Don’t be
shockedf girl. Sounds like sex talk.” “No way! He’s not interested.” “You’re like
evidence to the contrary.” “But he hasn’t gone out with anyone since Mom died.”
“Doesn’t mean he’s not interested
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.” “He’s crippled!” “Just because he can’t walk doesn’t mean he can’t—” “No. If
you’d heardf you’d know. It was about something dangerous.” “Okay. Let’s say the
van wasn’t an accident. Maybe your dad and Ms. Arkan were international spiesf and
the Russian mob is trying to get revenge on them by killing you and framing her.”
Cat laughed. “I’m not the only one who reads too much manga.” “But if I’m rightf
someone might try to kill Ilya and frame your dad now.” Cat shook her head. “I
don’t think it’s spies.” “So ask your dad about it.” “I did. He lied.” “Your dad?
He never lies!” “He said he was at the library. Maybe he lies all the timef and I
never caught him before.” “Maybe he had a good reasonf like it’s something private
that doesn’t affect you. I say stop worrying and start trick-or-treating.” “Easier
said than done.” Tarika held up a mirror. “Say you can’t.” Cat stared at herself in
delight. The second skeleton was ready for Halloween. They grabbed hatsf a jazz
musician’s porkpie f
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or Cat and a black#and-silver mariachi sombrero for Tarika. As Cat picked up the
karaoke machinef Tarika saidf “Maybe this isn’t the best idea after all.” Cat saidf
“What’s the second rule?” “I’m not wimping out! I’m just not sure I’m ready—” “And
when would you be sure?” Tarika swallowedf then nodded. “At least no one’ll know
who we are in our make-up.” “Nof not at allf” Cat said. “We could be any two kids
in the barrio. Who look like ninth-grade girls. One shortf one tall.” Tarika
sighed. “Whose stupid idea was this?” “Yoursf” Cat saidf laughingf as she hauled
Tarika through the house. As soon as they stepped outsidef Tarika relaxed and Cat
started looking for orange vansf white wolvesf and strange people. Then she smiled.
Piratesf zombiesf and superheroes were walking along De Anza Street. Strange is the
point of Halloween. Cat said softlyf “No wimp outs.” Tarika glanced at her. “Heard
it the first timef Cat.” “Saying it for mef Tee.” “Ohf” Tarika saidf and thenf “Oh!
Are you still
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shook—” “Way no!” Cat said loudly to convince both herself and Tarika. “Let’s do
it.” She marched toward the neighbors’ home. Tarika saidf “Can I half#wimp?” “It’s
the Sanchezes.” Cat set down the karaoke player and rang the door bell. “They’ll
love itf even if it’s all fail.” “We could just get candy and go.” Cat punched
play. “Too late.” For the next two hoursf they raced from house to house performing
Halloween carols: “Monster Mashf” “Thrillerf” “Ghost Riders in the Skyf” “Roland
the Headless Thompson Gunnerf” “Jumbie Jamboreef” and “I Put A Spell On You.”
Tarika sang leadf Cat sang back-upf and they danced to their own choreography. When
they were exhausted and their bags were stuffed full of candyf they staggered back
to Tarika’s housef where Mrs. Soto insisted they perform all the songs again. When
they dropped Cat off at home afterwardf she told Tarikaf “Best. Halloween. Ever!”
But she knew the best was yet to come. Chapter Four: Midnight Girl The only thing
better than trick-o
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r-treating was coming home to the front path lit by candles in tin luminariasf a
jack o’lantern glowing by the doorf and Professor M and Granny Lupe sitting on the
porch. Under the yellow porch lightf Granny Lupe rocked in her chairf snapping her
fingers to the beat of whatever was playing through her earbuds. Professor Mf
reading a bookf sat near her with a blanket over his legs. Cat laughed—this was how
every trick or treating was supposed to end. Which made her think of Baldomero. He
had never been part of her Halloween. But she did not mind changes that made
Halloween even better. Granny Lupe grinned at Cat and took the buds from her ears.
“Have a good timef my terror?” Cat shook her head. “Who should I punish?” Cat
laughed. “I had a great time.” Granny Lupe nodded. “You are truly—” “Yourselff”
Professor M finished. “Yesf” Granny Lupe agreed. “You should get ready for your
midnight party.” “I can’t be skeleton girl?” Granny Lupe smiled and shook her head.
“How often does Ysabel get
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to see you? Be beautiful for her.” “Skeleton girl is beautiful.” “You don’t have
to hide yourselff my fierce one. You’re beautiful exactly as you are.” “I wish I
looked like Tarika.” Professor M saidf “Tarika’s got that covered. Look like youf
and you’ll be fine.” “Yeahf right.” Cat headed insidef thinking that in father-
talkf “fine” meant “hopelessly weird.” Granny Lupe saidf “I’ll start hot
chocolate.” “With cinnamon?” Granny Lupe lifted her chin high and stared at Cat.
“We are a proud family of a noble lineage! Of coursef with cinnamon!” Professor M
saidf “I’ll light the fire.” Cat saidf “S’mores?” Professor M nodded. “It is your
birthday.” “I wish Tarika could come over.” Granny Lupe saidf “We de la Sombras are
jealous of our good luck.” “Tarika could have hot chocolate and s’mores before
Ysabel comes.” Professor M glanced at Granny Lupe. “Maybe next year.” Granny Lupe
shrugged. “Who can know?” Professor M rolled down the ramp and went from luminaria
to luminariaf blowing each one
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out. Cat askedf “Can’t we let them burn?” Granny Lupe shook her head. “Ysabel
doesn’t need the light. Or want it.” In her bedroomf scrubbing away makeupf Cat
thought about the Halloween Fairy’s gift. A white dress and slippers were so meh
after all the birthday costumes she had known. But she was fourteen now. White
meant innocence. Maybe the costumes would become more mature with each birthday
after this: pink for fifteenf red for sixteenf crimson for seventeenf black for
eighteen. Or maybe white didn’t mean a thing. Maybe whoever brought the costumes
simply thought a change would be nice. What would Baldomero think? She put on the
dressf wondering if the right clothes would transform her from a big-nosedf flat-
chested girl to a gorgeous young woman who looked like her mother. When she looked
in the mirrorf she thoughtf Chicaf you’re just funny#looking. Accept it. She saw a
girl dressing up like a woman. She turned from side to sidef but she could not make
herself look like Mama. She
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studied the painting over her bed. She could see a resemblancef but it was like a
sculptor’s apprentice had taken all the same pieces and put them together slightly
off. Baldomero was lying or crazy. She hoped for crazy. She wished Tarika was there
to do her hair and makeup. If she tried to do anything more than comb her hairf she
would look like a clown or a zombie. She shivered. Whoever chose her costume had
forgotten Tucson nights could be cold by the end of October. She closed her bedroom
windowf then thoughtf If you have to look like a funny-looking girlf look like a
comfortable funny#looking girl. She pulled on striped black-and-purple leggings and
her purple hoodie. That made the white slippers look oddf so she changed them for
her low purple bootsf then checked in the mirror. Her father was right. Since she
couldn’t be Tarika or anyone elsef she should be herself. When she came into the
parlorf the fire was blazing. Professor M glanced at her and nodded. Granny Lupe’s
eyes nar
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rowed. She saidf “That’s—” Professor M saidf “Yes?” Granny Lupe shook her head.
“Different. Which proves she’s the daughter of Zoraida de la Sombra.” Professor M
winced as usual at her mother’s name. Cat asked Granny Lupef “Have you been
drinking sherry again?” Granny Lupe laughed. “It’s a wonderful night. I had a
taste.” Professor M saidf “Four tastes.” Granny Lupe whirled toward him. “You’d be
better company if —” Then she smiled. “No. You would sink from glum to maudlin.
Stay sober.” Professor M shrugged and poked at the logs in the fireplace. “It’s my
birthdayf” Cat said. “You two have to play nice.” Professor M turned his head like
a hawkf and Cat thought of the things that had happened during the day. She opened
her mouth to ask about Ms. Arkanf but before she couldf Granny Lupe saidf “Hot
chocolate’s ready. Help carry.” And Cat decided that anything unpleasant could wait
one more day. For the next hourf they drank hot chocolate and toasted s’mores. They
played Chinese checkersf
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and Cat won every game. She was bouncing a marble across the board in victory when
the hall light flickeredf and she turned. A slender woman in a red coatf tank topf
caprisf and sandals smiled at her from the parlor doorway. Her skin was brown and
her eyes were amberf like Baldomero’s and Granny Lupe’s. Her hair was the color of
copper. The bones of her face were strong and beautifulf so much like the painting
of Cat’s mother thatf for an instantf she thought she was looking at her mother.
Then she saidf “Tia Ysabel!” “Yes! La Ysabel esta aqui! Lessez les bon temps
rouler!” Ysabel held up a tiny purple MP3 player and asked Professor Mf “You don’t
mindf Herr Professor?” Before he could answerf she plugged it into the parlor’s
sound system. As a Brazilian pop song began to playf Ysabel tapped her foot and
held out her hand to Cat. “We are the starsf Darling Miracle!” They danced around
the parlor with Cat following Ysabel’s moves as best she could. When Granny Lupe
began clapping timef C
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at criedf “Youf too!” and offered her hand. Granny Lupe grimacedf sayingf “I’m too
old for this nonsensef” then began dancing as gracefully as Ysabel. Cat wished they
could dance forever. How would it be better? If Tarika was there to dance with
them? No. If Baldomero was. As the next song beganf Ysabel grabbed Professor M’s
wheelchair to spin him. A glance at his face made her let go. For oncef Ysabel did
not laughf though she smiled as she returned to dance with Cat and Granny Lupe. The
sound of an approaching motorcycle cut through the music. Professor M looked at
Granny Lupe. “You didn’t say there would be more.” Granny Lupe saidf “We de la
Sombras do not care to be predictable.” “I’ll get it!” Cat cried as she raced to
the front door and flung it wide. In the middle of the yardf a slender young man in
a black helmetf gray leather jeans and a matching jacketf a white silk shirtf and
dark gray boots was setting a large black motorcycle on its kickstand. When he
pulled off his helmet
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f she saw Baldomero grinning at her. Dropping the helmet onto his seatf he ran
toward herf leaped onto the porchf and bowed low. In the shade of the nightf he was
more handsome than she remembered. “Command mef your highness!” he said with a
smile that was half-mocking and half-sincere. “If Baldomero de la Sombraf your
cousin and championf will seek your heart’s desiref wherever it liesf whatever its
cost.” She opened her mouth to laughf but instead said quietlyf “Perhaps I shall.”
He smiled up at her. “I never make light promises.” Thenf risingf he frowned. “You
modified your costume. You didn’t like it?” “You’re the Halloween Fairy?” “Mef a
fairy?” He laughed. “Yes. Your fairy. I hoped to delight you.” “I loved the others.
This one…” She shrugged. “The others were for you to hide in. This one’s to bring
out your true self. I should’ve known that meant you would change it.” His smile
grew wider. “Your father must be driving off boys with a stick.” Could he see her
cheeks grow warm? Sh
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e shook her headf too flustered to answer. From the hallf Professor M saidf “I was
planning to start tonight.” Baldomero laughed. “Ahf Professor! You have the wit!”
Professor M saidf “I’d rather have the stick. You come unannounced.” “It’s our
way.” He looked at Cat. “Do you mind?” “Of course not!” “Then I’m welcome?”
“Always!” She hesitatedf then thoughtf He’s family! It’s okay! She threw herself
into his arms to hug him. He felt cold from his ridef and firm and lean. It was
like embracing a stallion made of ice. Rocking back from the impactf Baldomero
laughed. “Ahf I believe I am!” Professor M saidf a bit louder than he may have
needed tof “Since you’ve been welcomedf let’s go in.” In the parlorf Granny Lupe
was setting a large purple cake on a table by the fireplace. Cat wanted to ask why
it wasn’t strawberry as usualf but she felt torn: Change badf purple good. Ysabel
stood and beamed at Baldomero. “My son. Where did I see you last? Prague?
Johannesburg?” “Stockholmf Mother Dear.”
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He kissed Ysabelf then saidf “Or Reykjavik? Someplace cold where we fed wellf
anyway.” Cat studied them. Ysabel looked exactly as she rememberedf yet Ysabel
could have passed for Baldomero’s sister. Was that plastic surgeryf or did the de
la Sombras age very gracefully? Ysabel caught her look. “Forgot to say. Love the
costume. Best yet!” Cat nodded and glanced at Professor M and Granny Lupe. If she
had not seen them for a yearf would she think they looked younger? No. Granny Lupef
in her loose black cotton dress and a black lace shawlf looked exactly like
herself: tinyf wrinkledf gray-haired. Who could tell if more wrinkles had been
added in a year? None had been taken away. Butf with a shock that she hidf Cat saw
her father looked weaker. His hair and beard were flecked with gray. His scarred
face was leaner than she remembered. His eyes were sunkenf sleepless and haunted.
The green wool blanket covering his legs and lap made him look frail. Until
tonightf he had only worn blankets wh
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en he went outside in very cold weather. Granny Lupe laughed as she took
Baldomero’s face in both handsf kissed him loudly on each cheekf and saidf “It
gladdens this old woman’s heart to see you as handsome as ever!” Professor M saidf
“He’d look better if he worked on his tan.” “No wayf” Cat said. “He’s perfect.”
Baldomero shook his head. “I’m not so vain I need flattery. Tell mef my princessf
how has your birthday been?” Cat said casuallyf “Wellf a van almost hit me this
morning.” “A van ownedf” Granny Lupe addedf “by Alexandra Arkan.” “No!” Ysabel
hugged Cat so tightly that Cat thoughtf Like hugging a panther. Ysabelf frowning at
Granny Lupef saidf “We should—” “Cat’s finef” Professor M said. “And it’s her
birthday. Focus on enjoying that now.” “Wise wordsf Herr Professor!” Ysabel
unplugged the purple music player and put it in Cat’s hand. “Your presentf Miracle.
It was blackf but I knew that would never dof so I painted it.” Baldomero slapped
his forehead. “I haven’t given you your
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present yet!” He drew a slender chain from his jacket. A heart-shaped locket
dangled from it. Cat didn’t dare speak as he set the cold silver in her hands. He
saidf “You don’t like it?” “It’s the most beautiful thing ever.” His smile grew
wider. “You can open it.” She found the clasp. The heart sprang apart. Inside were
two tiny paintings. One was Baldomero with long white hair tied back in a queue.
The other was her mother with white hair in ornate curls. Ysabel looked at the
portraitsf “Powdered hair was such a pain.” Baldomero glanced at Granny Lupe. “It
suited Zoraida.” He turned to Cat. “Throw away the one of mef if you want. I
couldn’t find one of Ysabel or Lupe that fit—” Cat saidf “No throwing away is
happeningf” then looked at Ysabel and Granny Lupe. “Now I need something for
pictures of you two.” Ysabel kissed her forehead. “Never changef dear Catalina.”
Granny Lupe saidf “No. Change well.” Professor M saidf so softly that Cat barely
heard himf “Ditto.” As Cat settled the nec
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klace over her dressf Baldomero askedf “What are you nowf Catalina?” She smiled
smugly. “Me.” He glanced at Granny Lupef who looked away. Cat wondered if she had
said something wrong as he looked back at her. His eyes were like the sky on a
stormy night. “You’re la princesa de la sombra.” Cat smiled. “I’m kind of old to
pretend I’m a princess.” He shook his head. “Neverf Catalina. First you pretendf
then you become.” As she frownedf he smiled. “If that amuses you. Doing what amuses
you is the most important part of being a princess.” She laughed. “Okayf for
tonightf definitely princesa de la sombra.” Professor M exhaledf a tired sound. He
had folded his arms under the blanket. Cat wanted to ask if he was coldf but he
would never admit to a weakness where people could hear. Nof he would never admit
to a weakness where Cat could hear. Realizing that made her want to hug himf but
she couldn’t think of an excuse that wouldn’t make her look childish or make her
father look weak in Baldomero
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’s eyes. She thoughtf Maybe Tee’s right. Maybe I’ve been too hard on him. Professor
M saw her glance. “Happy birthdayf kid.” Baldomero looked at the tall clock by the
door to the hall. “You’re early.” “I do what I must when I want to be first.”
Professor M drew his hands out of his blanket. “Birthday hug?” “Birthday hugf” Cat
agreed. Wondering if he had also been tasting Granny Lupe’s sherryf she put her
arms around him and squeezed. He smelled like peppermint soap and wool and
something garlic from dinner. He might look frailf but his shoulders felt strong.
He felt like Dad. Baldomero saidf “Ah! Nothing’s finer than a family’s love.”
Professor M let go of Catf put his hands back under the blanketf and looked at the
clock. “Nearly midnight.” Baldomero turned to Ysabel. “You brought something to
toast the birthday girl?” Ysabel reached into her long coatf drew out a murky
bottle of winef and showed the faded label to Professor M. “If you agree.” He
squinted at it. “Was that a good centu
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ry?” Baldomero grinned. “For our miracle? You may be suref Professor.” Professor M
told Catf “Your callf birthday girl.” She wanted to know what he wanted her to dof
but his expression never changed. She looked at Baldomerof Ysabelf and Granny Lupef
and saw how hopefully they smiled. Cat saidf “I’d like that.” Professor M shruggedf
or maybe he shivered. Cat heard the cork pop and looked at the bottle in Ysabel’s
hand. Granny Lupe took wineglasses from the table and held one out. The wine was so
dark that Cat saw it as blackf not red. It smelled of something she didn’t knowf
something that must be grapes and iron and the minerals of the earth. The first
glass was only a quarter full when Granny Lupe offered it to Professor M. Baldomero
saidf “Father of all our hopef will you do us this honor?” The professor looked at
Catf then held out his left handf took the glassf swirled itf sniffed itf and
drained it in a swallow. He sat still while everyone watched. After a long momentf
he nodded.
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“I’ve had worse.” Granny Lupe laughed and filled the glasses. Cat studied hers.
“What if I don’t like it?” Baldomero saidf “Then we’ll know you’re not your
mother’s daughter. And since I know you are—” The clock struck. Professor M’s head
snapped toward itf then toward Cat. The de la Sombras smiled as if they were at a
comedyf but Professor M was watching a different show. As the clock counted twelvef
Cat felt happier for herself and sadder for her father. Books and movies told her
what he must be feeling. His girl was becoming a woman. Soon she would be gonef and
he would be alone in Casa Medianoche. As the bells continued to ringf she thoughtf
First chance I getf I promise him he’ll never lose me. The twelfth stroke of
midnight hung in the airf then died. In that instant of silencef Cat heard her
father sigh in relief. She thoughtf I’m totally fourteen. Whatever that means.
Baldomero raised his glass. “Let’s each toast our princess and drink. As the one
toastedf Catalinaf you have to
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sit there and be embarrassed until we’re done. Then you may speak what’s in your
heart and drink.” He noddedf almost bowingf then hesitatedf prolonging the moment
that his and Cat’s eyes met. She was so content that when he spokef his voice
surprised her. “To Catalina Milagros Medianochef the hope of all de la Sombras.” He
drankf then turned to Granny Lupe. Granny Lupe saidf “To my fierce Catalinaf a
great terror and a greater delight. May many lovers suffer great torment for youf
and may all your foes know the full extent of their error.” She drankf then looked
at Ysabel. Ysabel saidf “To La Bella Catalina. Dance through ten million nights.”
She drankf then looked back at Baldomero. He saidf “And now—” “My turnf” said
Professor M. Baldomero blinkedf then saidf “Of course.” Professor M raised his
glass. “To Cat. Always trust yourself. And know that all I’ve done since I first
held you was for you. That’ll always be the greatest privilege of my life.” Cat
felt tears gathering in her ey
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es. “Dad—” Baldomero saidf “Make it a toast!” Cat held up her glass. “To my familyf
the best in the universe. And my dad whof wellf who was always there when I needed
himf and whof uhf should know that I’ll always be there if he needs me.” She
thought she saw tears in Professor M’s eyes. She wanted to hug himf and she might
havef but Baldomero saidf “Now drink!” With a sheepish smilef Cat raised the glass
to the de la Sombrasf then to her fatherf then drank. The wine passing her lips was
sour. She wanted to spit it outf but how could she do that in the parlor? The taste
changed on her tongue. Not sour. Bitter? No. Tart. Deliciously tart. She had not
realized how thirsty she was. She tipped the glass backf taking it all in one longf
delightful drink. She felt it dribbling from the corners of her lipsf but why would
anyone want to stop drinking until it was gone? As the last drops slid into her
mouthf Baldomero saidf “Your clock is fastf Professor. This is midnight.” Cat
dropped the glas
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s and heard it shatter. She didn’t care about a glass. She cared about wine. The
front of her mouth tingled deliciously. She smiledf licked her lips for a last
tastef and looked around for more to drink. The de la Sombras smiled at herf just
as they had when the clock first struck. Her father stared at her in horror. The
room swayed and darkened. Cat reeledf but a strong hand caught her. Baldomero saidf
“Easyf your highness.” Cat straightened upf feeling awake and strong and wonderful.
She had never noticed how every subtle scent and sound told a story. She had never
noticed how sharp her teeth were. Someone in the room was afraid. Someone in the
room was moving a cloth made of wool. She turned and saidf “Dad?” He was lifting
something long and gray from under his blanketf a pistol like a flare gun that made
a sound like a balloon exploding. A longf pointed bolt of wood shot from it. Toward
her heart. Chapter Five: The End of the Party Two Cats saw death coming. One stared
in confusion
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as her father shot something at her. The other marveled at the bright beauty of
the first and last moment of her life: The wooden boltf as long as her forearmf as
thick as her wristf its barbed headf its flared fins. The professor’s grim scowl.
Baldomero’s surprise. Granny Lupe’s fear. Ysabel’s confusion. Dust motes shimmering
in the electric light. The peppermint and salt smell of the professor’s soap and
sweat. The slightf tart scent of the de la Sombras. The tang of garlic wreaths in
the upstairs hall. The coolf dry touch of the night air. The cobweb-light embrace
of her Halloween dress. The comforting warmth of her hoodie. The first Cat thoughtf
Not happening! Can’t be happening. The second Cat thoughtf Stupid old selff I
should snuff you now so I’ll be perfect when I die. No. Let Evil Dad kill you along
with me. The death of the old Cat will be his price for killing the new one. As the
sharp tip of the bolt touched her chestf a slender hand caught it by the shaft.
Both Cats gaspe
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d in surprise. Granny Lupef grimacingf held the bolt firm. Its tail fins raised
dots of blood at the heel of her hand. She whirled and flung the bolt at the
professorf as fast as he had fired it. The first Cat shoutedf “No!” Did she mean
for Granny Lupe to stop or for none of this to happen? The second Cat kept silent.
The professor was a lone human. Her true family could deal with him. Professor M
dropped the pistol and pressed his armrest. His chair shot backward several feetf
and the bolt whistled past his shoulder. The first Cat thoughtf Thank God! The
second thoughtf He never told me what his chair could do. What else did he hide?
Ysabel leaped across the parlorf her hands curved like clawsf her mouth wide in
fury. Professor M yanked his arm rests. Two thick arrows like crossbow quarrels
shot from the chair. One pierced Ysabel’s hipf and she fell. The other flew at
Cat’s waist. The quarrel slowed as she watched it come. The air grew thicker. The
first Cat knew no one was near enou
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gh to save her. The second remembered how Granny Lupe had caught the bolt. Cat
twisted sideways. The quarrel tore through the front of her hoodief hit the
parlor’s wainscotingf and stuckf vibrating in slow motion. The first Cat wanted to
scream and hide. The second wanted to attack the threat to her life. Granny Lupe
caught Cat’s arm in her strong hand and shoved her behind herf sayingf “Stay safe!”
But Cat leaned out to watch Baldomero charge the professor. Both Cats needed to
know what would happenf and what she should dof and what she was now. Her father
crossed his arms overhead to grip the back of his wheelchair. As he brought his
hands downf two slender swords whisked from the chair’s frame. One plunged into
Baldomero’s chest. Before Cat could cry outf she saw two impossible things. Though
Baldomero was pierced by the swordf he leaned into her father’s bladef giving a
pained grin as he reached for Professor M’s throat. And Ysabel was wincing as she
yanked the quarrel from her hip
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. The professor slashed his left-hand sword at Baldomero’s neck. Baldomero skipped
backf almost lazily. The blade whisked just below his chin. Blood stained the sword
and Baldomero’s jacket. The first Cat thoughtf Dad will die! The second thoughtf
Good. The horror of the first Cat won. She looked down and thoughtf Not happeningf
not happeningf not happening! Granny Lupe said gentlyf “Watch. And learn.”
“Pleasef” Cat whisperedf unable to think of what she wanted or what might happen or
what might be best. The second Cat thoughtf Of course I should watch. Once I learn
everythingf I can do anything. So she looked up. Her father’s attempts to cut
Baldomero had brought him into the middle of the parlor. Baldomero and Ysabel
dodged his blades as if they were dancingf and they laughed at their skill or his.
Baldomero saidf “Ask for mercyf Professor.” Ysabel saidf “He tried to kill our
Miracle!” Baldomero saidf “Did I say we would give it?” “Surrenderf Professorf”
Granny Lupe said. “You can’t
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escape.” Professor M nodded. “Bait doesn’t escape.” Two steel grates dropped from
the ceilingf one blocking the door to the hallf one blocking the window. In front
of eachf a ceiling panel flapped down. From eachf a rifle with a barrel as wide as
the bolt pistol fired into the room. Granny Lupe fell over Catf knocking her to the
floor. The bolt aimed at Cat pierced Granny Lupe’s back with a sickening thud. Cat
lay stillf half-covered by her grandmother’s limp body. The first Cat wanted to
hide and needed to scream. The second thoughtf Play dead. The chance to strike back
will come. She opened her eyes into slits. Baldomero struggled to stand with a bolt
buried high in the right side of his chest. Granny Lupe stayed motionless on top of
Cat. Ysabel lay sprawled on the rugf bright blood glistening on her red coat around
the bolt in her heart. She took a rattling breathf then fell silent. The first Cat
thoughtf I have to save someone! The second thoughtf Yes. Me. The professor dropped
his
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swords and reached for a bolt rifle tossed down by a bald man dressed in brown: a
safari jacketf cargo pantsf and hiking boots. Cat knew his smell before she saw his
face. Uncle Olujimif with a bolt rifle in both hands and a machete sheathed at his
sidef dropped into the parlor as Auntie Fongf in a black jacket with a hood over
her white hairf stayed on the floor above. Her rifle covered them all. The first
Cat thoughtf It’s a bad joke for my birthday. Fake blood. Toy weapons. Right? The
second Cat thoughtf Why couldn’t I smell them? Ah. The garlic wreaths upstairs. The
professor planned this years ago. Why didn’t I see the Medianoches are monsters? As
Olujimi snapped his rifle butt to his shoulder and aimed at Baldomero’s heartf
Auntie Fong aimed at Granny Lupe’s backf and Professor M aimed at Cat’s throat. She
stared into the enormousf dark barrel. His finger tightened on the trigger. She
thoughtf No! I must live! They’re evil! Then a voicef a sweet murmurf as though the
speaker wan
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ted to wake a sleeper gentlyf filled the parlor. “Valentin. Fong Shu. Olujimi
Udofia.” The first Cat thoughtf Who’s that? The second thoughtf Salvation. The
three attackers kept their aim at their targets. Olujimi saidf “Who?” Auntie Fong
shoutedf “Shoot them!” Her hand trembled wildlyf but her rifle didn’t fire. The
professor’s finger rested against his trigger. He said in a voice neither Cat could
recognizef “Zora?” The whispering voice came againf a little louder. “You know
we’re not your enemies.” Olujimi said hesitantlyf “It’s a trick.” Auntie Fong
criedf “Fire! Now! Kill them!” Professor M said softlyf “It can’t be you.” The
weight of Granny Lupe’s body was lifted from Cat so easily that Lupe seemed to
float into the air. But when Cat looked upf she saw someone taller than Granny
Lupef almost as tall as Baldomerof someone whose skin was as smooth and brown as
Cat’sf and whose hair was as dark as a panther’s. Her long black dress wasn’t
Granny Lupe’s shapeless cotton. It was silkf
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a sheath of smoke. She looked at Professor M and smiled. The first Cat thought she
had never seen anyone so terrifying. The second knew she had never seen anyone so
beautiful. The first thoughtf Impossible. The second thoughtf Mama. Her father
twitched like a man falling in a dream. His rifle swung from Cat to Zoraida de la
Sombra and fired. Zoraida turned casually to let the bolt pass. As she didf
Baldomero sprang. His right arm hung limp at his sidef but he swatted aside
Olujimi’s rifle with his left and closed that hand around Olujimi’s throatf lifting
him onto the tips of his toes. As Olujimi gasped for airf Baldomero told Professor
M and Auntie Fongf “He lives until you act.” Olujimi clawed at Baldomero’s fingers.
Though Baldomero’s face was ashen and grimf and blood seeped from the bolt in his
chestf his grip did not open and his arm was as still and as strong as a statue’s.
Professor M saidf “Understood.” Looking at Zoraida and Baldomerof the first Cat
thoughtf What are they? T
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he second thoughtf What are we? Auntie Fong still aimed down at them from the
ceiling. Her finger still twitched furiouslyf but it would not close on the
trigger. Zoraida looked up and said lightlyf “Drop the weapon.” Auntie Fong swung
her sights to Zoraida’s heart. “No.” “Now.” Auntie Fong’s hand quiveredf and her
eyes flicked wide. Then her hand steadiedf and her eyes narrowed. “You can keep us
from attacking you. You can’t stop us from defending ourselves. If I believe any of
us will dief I know I can shoot.” Zoraida laughed. “Who fears what they can see and
avoid?” Auntie Fong saidf “Let me shoot nowf if you’re so sure.” Zoraida shrugged.
“Even if you get off a shotf you’ll watch your family die.” The first Cat thoughtf
No! The second thoughtf Yes. End their threat. Olujimi gaspedf “Fong Shu! Forget
us!” Baldomero whisperedf “Hushf Olujimi of the Udofias. Never hurry death.” Auntie
Fong told Zoraidaf “Let them go. Then your family may leave.” “Not all of us.”
Zoraida saidf looking
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www.obooko.com 2 BLACK JACK By Max Brand This edition published by Obooko
Publishing with immense respect and gratitude to the author. www.obooko.com
Although you do not have to pay for this bookf certain parts thereoff including
cover designf images and formatting may be protected by international Copyright
laws. You may use this edition strictly for your personal enjoyment only: it must
not be hosted or redistributed on other websites without the written permission of
the publishers or offered for sale in any form. If you paid for this bookf or to
gain access to itf we suggest you demand a refund and report the transaction to
the publisher Note: this story is the original work written many decades ago and
may contain terms that are not politically correct today. Cover image: Daniel
Horvath www.obooko.com 3 CHAPTER 1 It was characteristic of the two that when the
uproar broke out Vance Cornish raised his eyesf but went on lighting his pipe.
Then his sister Elizabeth ran to th
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e window with a swish of skirts around her long legs. After the first shot there
was a lull. The little cattle town was as peaceful as ever with its storm#shaken
houses staggering away down the street. A boy was stirring up the dust of the
streetf enjoying its heat with his bare toesf and the same old man was bunched in
his chair in front of the store. During the two days Elizabeth had been in town on
her cattle- buying tripf she had never seen him alter his position. But she was
accustomed to the Westf and this advent of sleep in the town did not satisfy her.
A drowsy townf like a drowsy-looking cow-puncherf might be capable of unexpected
things. "Vancef" she saidf "there's trouble starting." "Somebody shooting at a
targetf" he answered. As if to mock himf he had no sooner spoken than a dozen
voices yelled down the street in a wailing chorus cut short by the rapid
chattering of revolvers. Vance ran to the window. Just below the hotel the street
made an elbow-turn for no parti
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cular reason except that the original cattle- trail had made exactly the same turn
before Garrison City was built. Toward the corner ran the hubbub at the pace of a
running horse. Shoutsf shrillf trailing cursesf and the muffled beat of hoofs in
the dust. A rider plunged into view nowf his horse leaning far in to take the
sharp anglef and the dust skidding out and away from his sliding hoofs. The rider
gave easily and gracefully to the wrench of his mount. And he seemed to have a
perfect trust in his horsef for he rode with the reins hanging over the horns of
his saddle. His hands were occupied by a pair of revolversf and he was turned in
the saddle. The head of the pursuing crowd lurched around the elbow-turn; fire spat
twice from the mouth of each gun. Two men droppedf one rolling over and over in
the dustf and the other sitting down and clasping his leg in a ludicrous fashion.
But the crowd was checked and fell back. By this time the racing horse of the
fugitive had carrie
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d him close to the hotelf and now he faced the frontf a handsome fellow with long
black hair blowing about his face. He wore a black silk shirt which accentuated
the pallor of his face and the flaring crimson of his bandanna. And he laughed
joyouslyf and the watchers from the hotel window heard him call: "Go itf Mary.
Feed 'em dustf girl!" www.obooko.com 4 The pursuers had apparently realized that
it was useless to chase. Another gust of revolver shots barked from the turning of
the streetf and among them a different and more sinister sound like the striking
of two great hammers face on facef so that there was a cold ring of metal after
the explosion—at least one man had brought a rifle to bear. Nowf as the wild rider
darted past the hotelf his hat was jerked from his head by an invisible hand. He
whirled again in the saddle and his guns raised. As he turnedf Elizabeth Cornish
saw something glint across the street. It was the gleam of light on the barrel of
a rifle that was
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thrust out through the window of the store. That long line of light wobbledf
steadiedf and fire jetted from the mouth of the gun. The black-haired rider
spilled sidewise out of the saddle; his feet came clear of the stirrupsf and his
right leg caught on the cantle. He was flung rolling in the dustf his arms flying
weirdly. The rifle disappeared from the window and a boy's set face looked out.
But before the limp body of the fugitive had stopped rollingf Elizabeth Cornish
dropped into a chairf sick of face. Her brother turned his back on the mob that
closed over the dead man and looked at Elizabeth in alarm. It was not the first
time he had seen the result of a gunplayf and for that matter it was not the first
time for Elizabeth. Her emotion upset him more than the roar of a hundred guns. He
managed to bring her a glass of waterf but she brushed it away so that half of the
contents spilled on the red carpet of the room. "He isn't deadf Vance. He isn't
dead!" she kept saying.
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"Dead before he left the saddlef" replied Vancef with his usual calm. "And if the
bullet hadn't finished himf the fall would have broken his neck. But—what in the
world! Did you know the fellow?" He blinked at herf his amazement growing. The
capable hands of Elizabeth were pressed to her breastf and out of the thirty-five
years of spinsterhood which had starved her face he became aware of eyes young and
darkf and full of spirit; by no means the keenf quiet eyes of Elizabeth Cornish.
"Do somethingf" she cried. "Go downf and—if they've murdered him—" He literally
fled from the room. All the time she was seeing nothingf but she would never forget
what she had seenf no matter how long she lived. Subconsciously she was fighting
to keep the street voices out of her mind. They were saying things she did not
wish to hearf things she would not hear. Finallyf she recovered enough to stand up
and shut the window. That brought her a terrible temptation to look down into the
mass of men
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in the street—and womenf too! www.obooko.com 5 But she resisted and looked up. The
forms of the street remained obscurely in the bottom of her visionf and made her
think of something she had seen in the woods—a colony of ants around a dead
beetle. Presently the door opened and Vance came back. He still seemed very
worriedf but she forced herself to smile at himf and at once his concern
disappeared; it was plain that he had been troubled about her and not in the
slightest by the fate of the strange rider. She kept on smilingf but for the first
time in her life she really looked at Vance without sisterly prejudice in his
favor. She saw a good-natured facef handsomef with the cheeks growing a bit
blockyf though Vance was only twenty#five. He had a glorious forehead and fine
eyesf but one would never look twice at Vance in a crowd. She knew suddenly that
her brother was simply a well#mannered mediocrity. "Thank the Lord you're yourself
againf Elizabethf" her brother said first of
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all. "I thought for a moment—I don't know what!" "Just the shockf Vancef" she
said. Ordinarily she was well-nigh brutally frank. Now she found it easy to lie
and keep on smiling. "It was such a horrible thing to see!" "I suppose so. Caught
you off balance. But I never knew you to lose your grip so easily. Wellf do you
know what you've seen?" "He's deadf then?" He locked sharply at her. It seemed to
him that a tremor of unevenness had come into her voice. "Ohf dead as a doornailf
Elizabeth. Very neat shot. Youngster that dropped him; boy named Joe Minter. Six
thousand dollars for Joe. Nice little nest egg to build a fortune onf eh?" "Six
thousand dollars! What do you meanf Vance?" "The price on the head of Jack Hollis.
That was Hollisf sis. The celebrated Black Jack." "But—this is only a boyf Vance.
He couldn't have been more than twenty#five years old." "That's all." "But I've
heard of him for ten yearsf very nearly. And always as a man#killer. It can't be
Black Jack." "I said
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the same thingf but it's Black Jackf well enough. He started out when he was
sixteenf they sayf and he's been raising the devil ever since. You should have
seen them pick him up—as if he were asleepf and not dead. What a body! Lithe as a
panther. No larger than I amf but they say he was a giant with his hands."
www.obooko.com 6 He was lighting his cigarette as he said thisf and consequently he
did not see her eyes close tightly. A moment later she was able to make her
expression as calm as ever. "Came into town to see his babyf" went on Vance
through the smoke. "Little year-old beggar!" "Think of the motherf" murmured
Elizabeth Cornish. "I want to do something for her." "You can'tf" replied her
brotherf with unnecessary brutality. "Because she's dead. A little after the
youngster was born. I believe Black Jack broke her heartf and a very pleasant sort
of girl she wasf they tell me." "What will become of the baby?" "It will live and
grow upf" he said carelessly. "They always d
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of somehow. Make another like his fatherf I suppose. A few years of fame in the
mountain saloonsf and then a knife in the back." The meager body of Elizabeth
stiffened. She was finding it less easy to maintain her nonchalant smile. "Why?"
"Why? Blood will outf like murderf sis." "Nonsense! All a matter of environment."
"Have you ever read the story of the Jukes family?" "An accident. Take a son out of
the best family in the world and raise him like a thief—he'll be a thief. And the
thief's son can be raised to an honest manhood. I know it!" She was seeing Black
Jackf as he had raced down the street with the black hair blowing about his face.
Of such stufff she feltf the knights of another age had been made. Vance was
raising a forefinger in an authoritative way he had. "My dearf before that baby is
twenty-five—that was his father's age—he'll have shot a man. Bet you on it!" "I'll
take your bet!" The retort came with such a ring of her voice that he was startled.
Before he coul
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d recoverf she went on: "Go out and get that baby for mef Vance. I want it." He
tossed his cigarette out of the window. "Don't drop into one of your headstrong
moodsf sis. This is nonsense." "That's why I want to do it. I'm tired of playing
the man. I've had enough to fill my mind. I want something to fill my arms and my
heart." She drew up her hands with a peculiar gesture toward her shallowf barren
bosomf and then her brother found himself silenced. At the same time he was a
www.obooko.com 7 little irritatedf for there was an imputation in her speech that
she had been carrying the burden which his own shoulders should have supported.
Which was so true that he could not answerf and therefore he cast about for some
way of stinging her. "I thought you were going to escape the sentimental periodf
Elizabeth. But sooner or later I suppose a woman has to pass through it." A spot
of color came in her sallow cheek. "That's sufficiently disagreeablef Vance." A
sense of his cowardice ma
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de him rise to conceal his confusion. "I'm going to take you at your wordf sis. I'm
going out to get that baby. I suppose it can be bought—like a calf!" He went
deliberately to the door and laid his hand on the knob. He had a rather vicious
pleasure in calling her blufff but to his amazement she did not call him back. He
opened the door slowly. Still she did not speak. He slammed it behind him and
stepped into the hall. CHAPTER 2 Twenty-four years made the face of Vance Cornish a
little better-fedf a little more blocky of cheekf but he remained astonishingly
young. At forty-nine the lumpish promise of his youth was quite gone. He was in a
trim and solid middle age. His hair was thinned above the foreheadf but it gave
him more dignity. On the wholef he left an impression of a man who has done things
and who will do more before he is through. He shifted his feet from the top of the
porch railing and shrugged himself deeper into his chair. It was marvelous how
comfortable Vance
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could make himself. He had one great power—the ability to sit still through any
given interval. Now he let his eye drift quietly over the Cornish ranch. It lay
entirely within one grasp of the visionf spilling across the valley from Sleep
Mountainf on the lower bosom of which the house stoodf to Mount Discovery on the
north. Not that the glance of Vance Cornish lurched across this bold distance. His
gaze wandered as slowly as a free buzzes across a clover fieldf not knowing on
which blossom to settle. Below himf generously loopedf Bear Creek tumbled out of
the southeastf and roved between noble borders of silver spruce into the shadows
of the Blue Mountains of the northf half a dozen miles across and ten long of
grazing and farm landf richf loamy bottom land scattered with aspens.
www.obooko.com 8 Beyondf covering the gentle roll of the foothillsf was grazing
land. Scattering lodgepole pine began in the hillsf and thickened into dense
yellow#green thickets on the upper mount
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ain slopes. And so north and north the eye of Vance Cornish wandered and climbed
until it rested on the bald summit of Mount Discovery. It had its name out of its
characterf standing boldly to the south out of the jumble of the Blue Mountains.
It was a solid unitf this Cornish ranchf fenced away with mountainsf watered by a
riverf pleasantly forestedf and obviously predestined for the ownership of one
man. Vance Cornishf on the porch of the housef felt like an enthroned king
overlooking his dominions. As a matter of factf his holdings were hardly more than
nominal. In the beginning his father had left the ranch equally to Vance and
Elizabethf thickly plastered with debts. The son would have sold the place for
what they could clear. He went East to hunt for education and pleasure; his sister
remained and fought the great battle by herself. She consecrated herself to the
workf which implied that the work was sacred. And to herf indeedf it was. She was
twenty-two and her brothe
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r twelve when their father died. Had she been a tithe younger and her brother a
mature manf it would have been different. As it wasf she felt herself placed in a
maternal position with Vance. She sent him away to schoolf rolled up her sleeves
and started to order chaos. In place of husbandf children—love and the fruits of
love— she accepted the ranch. The dam between the rapids and the waterfall was the
child of her brain; the plowed fields of the central part of the valley were her
reward. In ten years of constant struggle she cleared away the debts. And thenf
since Vance gave her nothing but bills to payf she began to buy out his interest.
He chose to learn his business lessons on Wall Street. Elizabeth paid the billsf
but she checked the sums against his interest in the ranch. And so it went on.
Vance would come out to the ranch at intervals and show a brieff feverish
interestf plan a new set of irrigation canalsf or a sawmillf or a better road out
over the Blue Mountain
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s. But he dropped such work half-done and went away. Elizabeth said nothing. She
kept on paying his billsf and she kept on cutting down his interest in the old
Cornish ranchf until at the present time he had only a finger-tip hold. Root and
branchf the valley and all that was in it belonged to Elizabeth Cornish. She was
proud of her possessionf though she seldom talked of her pride. Neverthelessf
Vance knewf and smiled. It was amusingf becausef after allf what she had donef and
all her workf would revert to him at her death. Until that timef why should he
care in whose name the ranch remained so long as his bills were paid? He had not
workedf but in recompense he had remained young. www.obooko.com 9 Elizabeth had
labored all her youth away. At forty-nine he was ready to begin the most important
part of his career. At sixty his sister was a withered old ghost of a woman. He
fell into a pleasant reverie. When Elizabeth diedf he would set in some tennis
courts beside the housef
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buy some blooded horsesf cut the road wide and deep to let the world come up Bear
Creek Valleyf and retire to the life of a country gentleman. His sister's voice
cut into his musing. She had two tones. One might be called her social register.
It was smoothf gentle—the low-pitched and controlled voice of a gentlewoman. The
other voice was hard and sharp. It could drive hard and cold across a deskf and
bring businessmen to an understanding that here was a mindf not a woman. At
present she used her latter tone. Vance Cornish came into a shivering
consciousness that she was sitting beside him. He turned his head slowly. It was
always a shock to come out of one of his pleasant dreams and see that wornf
hollow-eyedf impatient face. "Are you forty-ninef Vance?" "I'm not fiftyf at
leastf" he countered. She remained imperturbablef looking him over. He had come to
notice that in the past half-dozen years his best smiles often failed to mellow
her expression. He felt that something di
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sagreeable was coming. "Why did Cornwall run away this morning? I hoped to take him
on a trip." "He had business to do." His diversion had been a distinct failuref and
had been turned against him. For she went on: "Which leads to what I have to say.
You're going back to New York in a few daysf I suppose?" "Nof my dear. I haven't
been across the water for two years." "Paris?" "Brussels. A little less grace; a
little more spirit." "Which means money." "A few thousand only. I'll be back by
fall." "Do you know that you'll have to mortgage your future for that moneyf
Vance?" He blinked at herf but maintained his smile under fire courageously. "Comef
come! Things are booming. You told me yesterday what you'd clean up on the last
bunch of Herefords." www.obooko.com 10 When she folded her handsf she was most
dangerousf he knew. And now the bony fingers linked and she shrugged the shawl
more closely around her shoulders. "We're partnersf aren't we?" smiled Vance.
"Partnersf yes. You have
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one share and I have a thousand. But—you don't want to sell out your final claimf
I suppose?" His smile froze. "Eh?" "If you want to get those few thousandsf Vancef
you have nothing to put up for them except your last shreds of property. That's
why I say you'll have to mortgage your future for money from now on." "But—how
does it all come about?" "I've warned you. I've been warning you for twenty-five
yearsf Vance." Once again he attempted to turn her. He always had the impression
that if he became seriousf deadly serious for ten consecutive minutes with his
sisterf he would be ruined. He kept on with his semi-jovial tone. "There are two
artsf Elizabeth. One is making money and the other is spending it. You've mastered
one and I've mastered the other. Which balances thingsf don't you think?" She did
not melt; he waved down to the farm land. "Watch that wave of windf Elizabeth." A
gust struck the scattering of aspensf and turned up the silver of the dark green
leaves. The breeze
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rolled across the trees in a longf rippling flash of light. But Elizabeth did not
look down. Her glance was fixed on the changeless snow of Mount Discovery's
summit. "As long as you have something to spendf spending is a very important artf
Vance. But when the purse is emptyf it's a bit uselessf it seems to me." "Wellf
thenf I'll have to mortgage my future. As a matter of factf I suppose I could
borrow what I want on my prospects." A veritable Indian yellf instantly taken up
and prolonged by a chorus of similar shoutsf cut off the last of his words. Round
the corner of the house shot a blood-bay stallionf red as the red of iron under
the blacksmith's hammerf with a longf black tail snapping and flaunting behind
himf his ears flattenedf his beautiful vicious head outstretched in an effort to
tug the reins out of the hands of the rider. Failing in that effortf he leaped
into the air like a steeplechaser and pitched down upon stiffened forelegs. The
shock rippled through the bo
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dy of the rider and came to his head with a snap that jerked his chin down against
his breast. The stallion rocked back on his hind legsf whirledf and then flung
himself deliberately on his back. A www.obooko.com 11 sufficiently cunning
maneuver—first stunning the enemy with a blow and then crushing him before his
senses returned. But he landed on nothing save hard gravel. The rider had whipped
out of the saddle and stood poisedf strong as the trunk of a silver spruce. The
fighting horsef a little shaken by the impact of his fallf nevertheless whirled
with catlike agility to his feet—a beautiful thing to watch. As he brought his
forequarters off the earthf he lunged at the rider with open mouth. A sidestep
that would have done credit to a pugilist sent the youngster swerving past that
danger. He leaped to the saddle at the same time that the blood-bay came to his
four feet. The chorus in full cry was around the horsef four or five excited
cow#punchers waving their sombreros
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and yelling for horse or riderf according to the gallantry of the fight. The bay
was in the air more than he was on the groundf eleven or twelve hundred pounds of
mightf writhingf snappingf boltingf haltingf sunfishing with devilish cunningf
dropping out of the air on one stiff foreleg with an accompanying sway to one side
that gave the rider the effect of a cudgel blow at the back of the head and then a
whip-snap to part the vertebrae. Whirling on his hind legsf and again flinging
himself desperately on the groundf only to failf come to his feet with the
clinging burden once more maddeningly in placef and go again through a maze of
fence-rowing and sun-fishing until suddenly he straightened out and bolted down
the slope like a runaway locomotive on a downgrade. A terrifying spectaclef but
the rider sat erectf with one arm raised high above his head in triumphf and his
yell trailing off behind him. From a running gait the stallion fell into a smooth
pace—a true wild pacerf
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his hoofs beating the ground with the force and speed of pistons and hurling
himself forward with incredible strides. Horse and rider lurched out of sight
among the silver spruce. "By the Lordf wonderful!" cried Vance Cornish. He heard a
stifled cry beside himf a cry of infinite pain. "Is—is it over?" And there sat
Elizabeth the Indomitable with her face buried in her hands like a girl of
sixteen! "Of course it's overf" said Vancef wondering profoundly. She seemed to
dread to look up. "And—Terence?" "He's all right. Ever hear of a horse that could
get that young wildcat out of the saddle? He clings as if he had claws. But—where
did he get that red devil?" www.obooko.com 12 "Terence ran him down—in the
mountains—somewheref" she answeredf speaking as one who had only half heard the
question. "Two months of constant trailing to do itf I think. But ohf you're
right! The horse is a devil! And sometimes I think—" She stoppedf shuddering.
Vance had returned to the ranch only the day
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before after a long absence. More and moref after he had been awayf he found it
difficult to get in touch with things on the ranch. Once he had been a necessary
part of the inner life. Now he was on the outside. Terence and Elizabeth were a
perfectly completed circle in themselves. CHAPTER 3 "If Terry worries you like
thisf" suggested her brother kindlyf "why don't you forbid these pranks?" She
looked at him as if in surprise. "Forbid Terry?" she echoedf and then smiled.
Decidedly this was her first tonef a soft tone that came from deep in her throat.
Instinctively Vance contrasted it with the way she had spoken to him. But it was
always this way when Terry was mentioned. For the first time he saw it clearly. It
was amazing how blind he had been. "Forbid Terence? Vancef that devil of a horse
is part of his life. He was on a hunting trip when he saw Le Sangre—" "Good Lordf
did they call the horse that?" "A French-Canadian was the first to discover himf
and he gave the name. An
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d he's the color of bloodf really. Wellf Terence saw Le Sangre on a hilltop
against the sky. And he literally went mad. Actuallyf he struck out on foot with
his rifle and lived in the country and never stopped walking until he wore down Le
Sangre somehow and brought him back hobbled—just skin and bonesf and Terence not
much more. Now Le Sangre is himself againf and he and Terence have a fight—like
that—every day. I dream about it; the most horrible nightmares!" "And you don't
stop it?" "My dear Vancef how little you know Terence! You couldn't tear that horse
out of his life without breaking his heart. I know!" "So you sufferf day by day?"
"I've done very little else all my lifef" said Elizabeth gravely. "And I've
learned to bear pain." www.obooko.com 13 He swallowed. Alsof he was beginning to
grow irritated. He had never before had a talk with Elizabeth that contained so
many reefs that threatened shipwreck. He returned to the gist of their
conversation rather too bluntly. "B
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ut to continuef Elizabethf any banker would lend me money on my prospects." "You
mean the property which will come to you when I die?" He used all his powerf but he
could not meet her glance. "You know that's a nasty way to put itf Elizabeth."
"Dear Vancef" she sighedf "a great many people say that I'm a hard woman. I
suppose I am. And I like to look facts squarely in the face. Your prospects begin
with my deathf of course." He had no answerf but bit his lip nervously and wished
the ordeal would come to an end. "Vancef" she went onf "I'm glad to have this talk
with you. It's something you have to know. Of course I'll see that during my life
or my death you'll be provided for. But as for your main prospectsf do you know
where they are?" "Well?" She was needlessly brutal about itf but as she had told
himf her education had been one of pain. "Your prospects are down there by the
river on the back of Le Sangre." Vance Cornish gasped. "I'll show you what I meanf
Vance. Come along."
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The moment she rosef some of her age fell from her. Her carriage was erect. Her
step was still full of spring and decisionf as she led the way into the house. It
was a bigf solidf two-story building which the mightiest wind could not shake.
Henry Cornish had merely founded the housef just as he had founded the ranch; the
main portion of the work had been done by his daughter. And as they passed
throughf her stern old eye rested peacefully on the deepf shadowy vistasf and her
foot fell with just pride on the splendid rising sweep of the staircase. They
passed into the roomy vault of the upper hall and went down to the end. She took
out a big key from her pocket and fitted it into the lock; then Vance dropped his
hand on her arm. His voice lowered. "You've made a mistakef Elizabeth. This is
Father's room." Ever since his death it had been kept unchangedf and practically
unentered save for an occasional rare day of work to keep it in order. Now she
nodded and resolutely turned
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the key and swung the door open. Vance went in with an exclamation of wonder. It
was quite changed from the solemn old room and the brownf varnished woodwork which
he remembered. Cream-tinted paint now www.obooko.com 14 made the walls cool and
fresh. The solemn engravings no longer hung above the bookcases. And the bookcases
themselves had been replaced with built-in shelves pleasantly filled with rich
bindingsf black and red and deep yellow#browns. A tall cabinet stood open at one
side filled with rifles and shotguns of every descriptionf and another cabinet was
loaded with fishing apparatus. The stiff-backed chairs had given place to
comfortable monsters of easy lines. Vance Cornishf as one in a dreamf peered here
and there. "God bless us!" he kept repeating. "God bless us! But where's there a
trace of Father?" "I left it outf" said Elizabeth huskilyf "because this room is
meant for—but let's go back. Do you remember that day twenty-four years ago when
we took Jack Hollis'
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s baby?" "When you took itf" he corrected. "I disclaim all share in the idea."
"Thank youf" she answered proudly. "At any ratef I took the boy and called him
Terence Colby." "Why that namef" muttered Vancef "I never could understand."
"Haven't I told you? Nof and I hardly know whether to trust even you with the
secretf Vance. But you remember we argued about itf and you said that blood would
out; that the boy would turn out wrong; that before he was twenty-five he would
have shot a man?" "I believe the talk ran like that." "Wellf Vancef I started out
with a theory; but the moment I had that baby in my armsf it became a matter of
theoryf plusf and chiefly plus. I kept remembering what you had saidf and I was
afraid. That was why I worked up the Colby idea." "That's easy to see." "It wasn't
so easy to do. But I heard of the last of an old Virginia family who had died of
consumption in Arizona. I traced his family. He was the last of it. Then it was
easy to arrange a little story:
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Terence Colby had married a girl in Arizonaf died shortly after; the girl died
alsof and I took the baby. Nobody can disprove what I say. There's not a living
soul who knows that Terence is the son of Jack Hollis—except you and me." "How
about the woman I got the baby from?" "I bought her silence until fifteen years
ago. Then she diedf and now Terry is convinced that he is the last representative
of the Colby family." She laughed with excitement and beckoned him out of the room
and into another—Terry's roomf farther down the hall. She pointed to a large
photograph of a solemn-faced man on the wall. "You see that?" "Who is it?"
www.obooko.com 15 "I got it when I took Terry to Virginia last winter—to see the
old family estate and go over the ground of the historic Colbys." She laughed
again happily. "Terry was wild with enthusiasm. He read everything he could lay his
hands on about the Colbys. Discovered the year they landed in Virginia; how they
fought in the Revolution; how t
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hey fought and died in the Civil War. Ohf he knows every landmark in the history
of 'his' family. Of coursef I encouraged him." "I knowf" chuckled Vance. "Whenever
he gets in a pinchf I've heard you say: 'Terryf what should a Colby do?'" "Andf"
cut in Elizabethf "you must admit that it has worked. There isn't a prouderf
gentlerf cleaner-minded boy in the world than Terry. Not blood. It's the blood of
Jack Hollis. But it's what he thinks himself to be that counts. And nowf Vancef
admit that your theory is exploded." He shook his head. "Terry will do well enough.
But wait till the pinch comes. You don't know how he'll turn out when the rub
comes. Then blood will tell!" She shrugged her shoulders angrily. "You're simply
being perverse nowf Vance. At any ratef that picture is one of Terry's old
'ancestorsf' Colonel Vincent Colbyf of prewar days. Terry has discovered family
resemblancesf of course—same black hairf same black eyesf and a great many other
things." "But suppose he sho
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uld ever learn the truth?" murmured Vance. She caught her breath. "That would be
ruinousf of course. But he'll never learn. Only you and I know." "A very hard
blowf ehf" said Vancef "if he were robbed of the Colby illusion and had Black Jack
put in its place as a cold fact? But of course we'll never tell him." Her color
was never high. Now it became gray. Only her eyes remained burningf vividf youngf
blazing out through the mask of age. "Remember you said his blood would tell before
he was twenty-five; that the blood of Black Jack would come to the surface; that
he would have shot a man?" "Still harping on thatf Elizabeth? What if he does?"
"I'd disown himf throw him out penniless on the worldf never see him again."
"You're a Spartanf" said her brother in awef as he looked on that thinf stern
face. "Terry is your theory. If he disappoints youf he'll be simply a theory gone
www.obooko.com 16 wrong. You'll cut him out of your life as if he were an algebraic
equation and never t
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hink of him again." "But he's not going wrongf Vance. Becausef in ten daysf he'll
be twenty#five! And that's what all these changes mean. The moment it grows dark on
the night of his twenty-fifth birthdayf I'm going to take him into my father's
room and turn it over to him." He had listened to her patientlyf a little wearied
by her unusual flow of words. Now he came out of his apathy with a jerk. He laid
his hand on Elizabeth's shoulder and turned her so that the light shone full in
her face. Then he studied her. "What do you mean by thatf Elizabeth?" "Vancef" she
said steadilyf but with a touch of pity in her voicef "I have waited for a score
of yearsf hoping that you'd settle down and try to do a man's work either here or
somewhere else. You haven't done it. Yesterday Mr. Cornwall came here to draw up
my will. By that will I leave you an annuityf Vancef that will take care of you in
comfort; but I leave everything else to Terry Colby. That's why I've changed the
room. The m
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oment it grows dark ten days from todayf I'm going to take Terry by the hand and
lead him into the room and into the position of my father!" The mask of youth
which was Vance Cornish crumbled and fell away. A new man looked down at her. The
firm flesh of his face became loose. His whole body was flabby. She had the
feeling that if she pushed against his chest with the weight of her armf he would
topple to the floor. That weakness gradually passed. A peculiar strength of
purpose grew in its place. "Of coursef this is a very shrewd gamef Elizabeth. You
want to wake me up. You're using the spur to make me work. I don't blame you for
using the blufff even if it's a rather cruel one. Butf of coursef it's impossible
for you to be serious in what you say." "Why impossiblef Vance?" "Because you know
that I'm the last male representative of our family. Because you know my father
would turn in his grave if he knew that an interloperf a foundlingf the child of a
murdererf a vagabondf h
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ad been made the heir to his estate. But you aren't seriousf Elizabeth; I
understand." He swallowed his pridef for panic grew in him in proportion to the
length of time she maintained her silence. "As a matter of factf I don't blame you
for giving me a scaref my dear sister. I have been a shameless loafer. I'm going
to reform and lift the burden of business off your shoulders—let you rest the
remainder of your life." www.obooko.com 17 It was the worst thing he could have
said. He realized it the moment he had spoken. This forcedf cowardly surrender was
worse than brazen defiancef and he saw her lip curl. An idler is apt to be like a
sullen childf except that in a grown man the child's sulky spite becomes a dark
malicef all-embracing. For the very reason that Vance knew he was receiving what
he deservedf and that this was the just reward for his thriftless years of
idlenessf he began to hate Elizabeth with a coldf quiet hatred. There is something
stimulating about any great pa
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ssion. Now Vance felt his nerves soothed and calmed. His self-possession returned
with a rush. He was suddenly able to smile into her face. "After allf" he saidf
"you're absolutely right. I've been a failuref Elizabeth— a rankf disheartening
failure. You'd be foolish to trust the result of your life labors in my hands—
entirely foolish. I admit that it's a shrewd blow to see the estate go to—Terry."
He found it oddly difficult to name the boy. "But why not? Why not Terry? He's a
clean youngsterf and he may turn out very well—in spite of his blood. I hope so.
The Lord knows you've given him every chance and the best start in the world. I
wish him luck!" He reached out his handf and her bloodless fingers closed strongly
over it. "There's the old Vance talkingf" she said warmlyf a mist across her eyes.
"I almost thought that part of you had died." He writhed inwardly. "By Jovef
Elizabethf think of that boyf coming out of nothingf everything poured into his
hands—and now within ten
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days of his goal! Rather excitingf isn't it? Suppose he should stumble at the very
threshold of his success? Eh?" He pressed the point with singular insistence.
"Doesn't it make your heart beatf Elizabethf when you think that he might fall—
that he might do what I prophesied so long ago—shoot a man before he's twenty-
five?" She shrugged the supposition calmly away. "My faith in him is based as
strongly as the rocksf Vance. But if he fellf after the schooling I've given himf
I'd throw him out of my life— forever." He paused a momentf studying her face with
a peculiar eagerness. Then he shrugged in turn. "Tush! Of coursef that's
impossible. Let's go down." www.obooko.com 18 CHAPTER 4 When they reached the front
porchf they saw Terence Colby coming up the terrace from the river road on Le
Sangre. And a changed horse he was. One ear was forward as if he did not know what
lay in store for himf but would try to be on the alert. One ear flagged warily
back. He went slowlyf lifting his
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feet with the care of a very weary horse. Yetf when the wind fluttered a gust of
whirling leaves beside himf he leaped aside and stood with high headf staringf
transformed in the instant into a creature of fire and wire-strung nerves. The
rider gave to the side#spring with supple grace and then sent the stallion on up
the hill. Joyous triumph was in the face of Terry. His black hair was blowing about
his foreheadf for his hat was pushed back after the manner of one who has done a
hard day's work and is ready to rest. He came close to the verandaf and Le Sangre
lifted his fine head and stared fearlesslyf curiouslyf with a sort of contemptuous
pridef at Elizabeth and Vance. "The killer is no longer a killerf" laughed Terry.
"Look him overf Uncle Vance. A beautyf eh?" Elizabeth said nothing at all. But she
rocked herself back and forth a trifle in her chair as she nodded. She glanced
over the terracef hoping that others might be there to see the triumph of her boy.
Then she loo
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ked back at Terence. But Vance was regarding the horse. "He might have a bit more
in the legsf Terry." "Not much more. A leggy horse can't stand mountain work—or any
other workf for that matterf except a ride in the park." "I suppose you're right.
He's a picture horsef Terry. And a devilish eyef but I see that you've beaten
him." "Beaten him?" He shook his head. "We reached a gentleman's agreement. As
long as I wear spursf he'll fight me till he gets his teeth in me or splashes my
skull to bits with his heels. Otherwise he'll keep on fighting till he drops. But
as soon as I take off the spurs and stop tormenting himf he'll do what I like. No
whips or spurs for Le Sangre. Ehf boy?" He held out the spurs so that the sun
flashed on them. The horse stiffened with a shudderf and that forward look of a
horse about to bolt came in his eyes. "Nof no!" cried Elizabeth. But Terry laughed
and dropped the spurs back in his pocket. The stallion moved offf and Terry waved
to them. Just as he
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turnedf the mind of Vance Cornish raced back to another picture—a man with long
black hair www.obooko.com 19 blowing about his face and a gun in either handf
sweeping through a dusty street with shots barking behind him. It came suddenly as
a revelationf and left him downheaded with the thought. "What is itf Vance?" asked
his sisterf reaching out to touch his arm. "Nothing." Then he added abruptly: "I'm
going for a jaunt for a few daysf Elizabeth." She grew gloomy. "Are you going to
insist on taking it to heart this way?" "Not at all. I'm going to be back here in
ten days and drink Terry's long life and happiness across the birthday dinner
table." He marvelled at the ease with which he could make himself smile in her
face. "You noticed that—his gentleman's agreement with Le Sangre? I've made him
detest fighting with the idea that only brute beasts fight—men argue and agree."
"I've noticed that he never has trouble with the cow-punchers." "They've seen him
boxf" chuckled Eliza
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beth. "Besidesf Terry isn't the sort that troublemakers like to pick on. He has an
ugly look when he's angry." "H'mf" murmured Vance. "I've noticed that. But as long
as he keeps to his fistsf he'll do no harm. But what is the reason for surrounding
him with gunsf Elizabeth?" "A very good reason. He loves themf you know. Anything
from a shotgun to a derringer is a source of joy to Terence. And not a day goes by
that he doesn't handle them." "Certainly the effect of bloodf eh?" suggested
Vance. She glanced sharply at him. "You're determined to be disagreeable todayf
Vance. As a matter of factf I've convinced him that for the very reason he is so
accurate with a gun he must never enter a gun fight. The advantage would be too
much on his side against any ordinary man. That appeals to Terry's sense of fair
play. Nof he's absolutely safef no matter how you look at it." "No doubt." He
looked away from her and over the valley. The day had worn into the late
afternoon. Bear Creek ran
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dull and dark in the shadowf and Mount Discovery was robed in blue to the very
edge of its shining crown of snow. In this dimmerf richer light the Cornish ranch
had never seemed so desirable to Vance. It was not a ranch; it was a little
kingdom. And Vance was the dispossessed heir. www.obooko.com 20 He knew that he was
being watchedf howeverf and all that evening he was at his best. At the dinner
table he guided the talk so that Terence Colby was the lion of the conversation.
Afterwardf when he was packing his things in his room for his journey of the next
dayf he was careful to sing at the top of his voice. He reaped a reward for this
cautious actingf for the next morningf when he climbed into the buckboard that was
to take him down the Blue Mountain road and over to the railroadf his sister came
down the steps and stood beside the wagon. "You will come back for the birthday
partyf Vance?" she pleaded. "You want me to?" "You were with me when I got Terry.
In factf you got him
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for me. And I want you to be here when he steps into his own." In this he found
enough to keep him thoughtful all the way to the railroad while the buckskins
grunted up the grade and then spun away down the long slope beyond. It was one of
those little ironies of fate that he should have picked up the very man who was to
disinherit him some twenty- four years later. He carried no grudge against
Elizabethf but he certainly retained no tenderness. Hereafter he would act his
part as well as he could to extract the last possible penny out of her. And in the
meantime he must concentrate on tripping up Terence Colbyf alias Hollis. Vance saw
nothing particularly vicious in this. He had been idle so long that he rejoiced in
a work which was within his mental range. It included schemingf working always
behind the scenesf pulling strings to make others jump. And if he could trip Terry
and actually make him shoot a man on or before that birthdayf he had no doubt that
his sister would
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actually throw the boy out of her house and out of her life. A woman who could
give twenty-four years to a theory would be capable of grim things when the theory
went wrong. It was early evening when he climbed off the train at Garrison City. He
had not visited the place since that cattle-buying trip of twenty-four years ago
that brought the son of Black Jack into the affairs of the Cornish family.
Garrison City had become a city. There were two solid blocks of brick buildings
next to the stationf a network of paved streetsf and no less than three hotels. It
was so new to the eye and so obviously full of the "booster" spirit that he was
appalled at the idea of prying through this modern shell and getting back to the
heart and the memory of the old days of the town. At the restaurant he forced
himself upon a grave-looking gentleman across the table. He found that the solemn-
faced man was a travelling drummer. The venerable loafer in front of the
blacksmith's shop was feeble-m
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indedf and merely www.obooko.com 21 gaped at the name of Black Jack. The
proprietor of the hotel shook his head with positive antagonism. "Of coursef
Garrison City has its pastf" he admittedf "but we are living it downf and have
succeeded pretty well. I think I've heard of a ruffian of the last generation
named Jack Hollis; but I don't know anythingf and I don't care to know anythingf
about him. But if you're interested in Garrison Cityf I'd like to show you a
little plot of ground in a place that is going to be the center of the—" Vance
Cornish made his mind a blankf let the smooth current of words slip off his memory
as from an oiled surfacef and gave up Garrison City as a hopeless job.
Neverthelessf it was the hotel proprietor who dropped a valuable hint. "If you're
interested in the early legendsf why don't you go to the State Capitol? They have
every magazine and every book that so much as mentions any place in the state." So
Vance Cornish went to the capitol and entered
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the library. It was a sweaty task and a most discouraging one. The name "Black
Jack" revealed nothing; and the name of Hollis was an equal blankf so far as the
indices were concerned. He was preserved in legend onlyf and Vance Cornish could
make no vital use of legend. He wanted something in cold print. So he began an
exhaustive search. He went through volume after volumef but though he came upon
mention of Black Jackf he never reached the account of an eyewitness of any of
those stirring holdups or train robberies. And then he began on the old files of
magazines. And still nothing. He was about to give up with four days of patient
labor wasted when he struck gold in the desert—the very mine of information which
he wanted. "How I Painted Black Jackf" by Lawrence Montgomery. There was the
photograph of the painterf to begin with—a man who had discovered the beauty of
the deserts of the Southwest. But there was more— much more. It told howf in his
wandering across the desertf h
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e had hunted for something more than raw-colored sands and purple mesas blooming
in the distance. He had searched for a human being to fit into the picture and
give the softening touch of life. But he never found the face for which he had
been looking. And then luck came and tapped him on the shoulder. A lone rider came
out of the dusk and the desert and loomed beside his campfire. The moment the
firelight flushed on the face of the manf he knew this was the face for which he
had been searching. He told how they fried bacon and ate it together; he told of
the soft voice and the winning smile of the rider; he told of his eyesf
unspeakably soft and unspeakably boldf and the agilef nervous handsf forever
shifting and moving in the firelight. www.obooko.com 22 The next morning he had
asked his visitor to sit for a picturef and his request had been granted. All day
he labored at the canvasf and by night the work was far enough along for him to
dismiss his visitor. So the strange
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r asked for a small brush with black paint on itf and in the corner of the canvas
drew in the words "Yoursf Black Jack." Then he rode into the night. Black Jack!
Lawrence Montgomery had made up his pack and struck straight back for the nearest
town. There he asked for tidings of a certain Black Jackf and there he got what he
wanted in heaps. Everyone knew Black Jack—too well! There followed a brief summary
of the history of the desperado and his countless crimesf unspeakable tales of
cunning and courage and merciless vengeance taken. Vance Cornish turned the last
page of the articlef and there was the reproduction of the painting. He held his
breath when he saw it. The outlaw sat on his horse with his head raised and
turnedf and it was the very replica of Terence Colby as the boy had waved to them
from the back of Le Sangre. More than a familyf sketchy resemblance—far more.
There was the same largef dark eye; the same smilef half proud and half joyous;
the same imperious li
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ft of the head; the same bold carving of the features. There were differencesf to
be sure. The nose of Black Jack had been more cruelly archedf for instancef and
his cheekbones were higher and more pronounced. But in spite of the
dissimilarities the resemblance was more than striking. It might have stood for an
actual portrait of Terence Colby masquerading in long hair. When the full meaning
of this photograph had sunk into his mindf Vance Cornish closed his eyes.
"Eureka!" he whispered to himself. There was something more to be done. But it was
very simple. It merely consisted in covertly cutting out the pages of the article
in question. Thenf carefullyf for fear of lossf he jotted down the name and date
of the magazinef folded his stolen pagesf and fitted them snugly into his breast
pocket. That night he ate his first hearty dinner in four days. CHAPTER 5 Vance's
work was not by any means accomplished. Ratherf it might be said that he was in
the position of a man with a dan
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gerous charge for a gun and no weapon to shoot it. He started out to find the gun.
www.obooko.com 23 In factf he already had it in mind. Twenty-four hours later he
was in Craterville. Five days out of the ten before the twenty-fifth birthday of
Terence had elapsedf and Vance was still far from his goalf but he felt that the
lion's share of the work had been accomplished. Craterville was a day's ride across
the mountains from the Cornish ranchf and it was the county seat. It was one of
those towns which spring into existence for no reason that can be discoveredf and
cling to life generations after they should have died. But Craterville held one
thing of which Vance Cornish was in great needf and that was Sheriff Joe Minterf
familiarly called Uncle Joe. His reason for wanting the sheriff was perfectly
simple. Uncle Joe Minter was the man who killed Black Jack Hollis. He had been a
boy of eighteen thenf shooting with a rifle across a window sill. That shot had
formed his life.
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He was now forty-two and he had spent the interval as the professional enemy of
criminals in the mountains. For the glory which came from the killing of Black
Jack had been sweet to the youthful palate of Minterf and he had cultivated his
taste. He became the most dreaded manhunter in those districts where manhunting
was most common. He had been sheriff at Craterville for a dozen years nowf and
still his supremacy was not even questioned. Vance Cornish was lucky to find the
sheriff in town presiding at the head of the long table of the hotel at dinner. He
was a man of great dignity. He wore his stiff black hairf still untarnished by
grayf very longf brushing it with difficulty to keep it behind his ears. This mass
of black hair framed a longf stern facef the angles of which had been made by
years. But there was no sign of weakness. He had grown dryf not flabby. His mouth
was a thinf straight linef and his fighting chin jutted out in profile. He rose
from his place to greet
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Vance Cornish. Indeedf the sheriff acted the part of master of ceremonies at the
hotelf having a sort of silent understanding with the widow who owned the place.
It was said that the sheriff would marry the woman sooner or laterf he so loved to
talk at her table. His talk doubled her business. Her table afforded him an
audience; so they needed one another. "You don't remember mef" said Vance. "I got a
tolerable poor memory for facesf" admitted the sheriff. "I'm Cornishf of the
Cornish ranch." The sheriff was duly impressed. The Cornish ranch was a show place.
He arranged a chair for Vance at his rightf and presently the talk rose above the
www.obooko.com 24 murmur to which it had been depressed by the arrival of this
important stranger. The increasing noise made a background. It left Vance alone
with the sheriff. "And how do you find your workf sheriff?" asked Vance; for he
knew that Uncle Joe Minter's great weakness was his love of talk. Everyone in the
mountains knew itf for
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that matter. "Dullf" complained Minter. "Men ain't what they used to bef or else
the law is a heap stronger." "The men who enforce the law aref" said Vance. The
sheriff absorbed this patent compliment with the blank eye of satisfaction and
rubbed his chin. "But they's been some talk of rustlingf pretty recent. I'm waiting
for it to grow and get ripe. Then I'll bust it." He made an eloquent gesture which
Vance followed. He was distinctly pleased with the sheriff. For Minter was
wonderfully preserved. His face seemed five years younger than his age. His body
seemed even younger— roundf smoothf powerful muscles padding his shoulders and
stirring down the length of his big arms. And his hands had that peculiar light
restlessness of touch which Vance remembered to have seen—in the hands of Terence
Colbyf alias Hollis! "And how's things up your way?" continued the sheriff.
"Booming. By the wayf how long is it since you've seen the ranch?" "Never been
there. Bear Creek Valley has alw
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ays been a quiet place since the Cornishes moved in; and they ain't been any call
for a gent in my line of business up that way." He grinned with satisfactionf and
Vance nodded. "If times are dullf why not drop over? We're having a celebration
there in five days. Come and look us over." "Maybe I mightf and maybe I mightn'tf"
said the sheriff. "All depends." "And bring some friends with youf" insisted Vance.
Then he wisely let the subject drop and went on to a detailed description of the
game in the hills around the ranch. Thatf he knewf would bring the sheriff if
anything would. But he mentioned the invitation no more. There were particular
reasons why he must not press it on the sheriff any more than on others in
Craterville. The next morningf before traintimef Vance went to the post office and
left the article on Black Jack addressed to Terence Colby at the Cornish ranch.
The addressing was done on a typewriterf which completely removed any means of
identifying the sender.
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Vance played with Providence in only one way. He was so eager to strike his blow
at the last possible moment that he asked the postmaster www.obooko.com 25 to hold
the letter for three daysf which would land it at the ranch on the morning of the
birthday. Then he went to the train. His self-respect was increasing by leaps and
bounds. The game was still not wonf butf starring with absolutely nothingf in six
days he had planted a charge which might send Elizabeth's twenty-four years of
labor up in smoke. He got off the train at Prestonf the station nearest the ranchf
and took a hired team up the road along Bear Creek Gorge. They debouched out of
the Blue Mountains into the valley of the ranch in the early eveningf and Vance
found himself looking with new eyes on the little kingdom. He felt the happinessf
indeedf of one who has lost a great prize and then put himself in a fair way of
winning it back. They dipped into the valley road. Over the tops of the big silver
spruces he t
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raced the outline of Sleep Mountain against the southern sky. Who but Vancef or
the dwellers in the valleyf would be able to duly appreciate such beauty? If there
were any wrong in what he had donef this thought consoled him: the ends justified
the means. Nowf as they drew closerf through the branches he made out glimpses of
the dimf white front of the big house on the hill. That bigf cool house with the
kingdom spilled out at its feetf the farming landsf the pastures of the hillsf and
the rich forest of the upper mountains. Certainty came to Vance Cornish. He wanted
the ranch so profoundly that the thought of losing it became impossible. CHAPTER 6
But while he had been working at a distancef things had been going on apace at the
ranchf a progress which had now gathered such impetus that he found himself
incapable of checking it. The blow fell immediately after dinner that same
evening. Terence excused himself early to retire to the mysteries of a new pump-
gun. Elizabeth and
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Vance took their coffee into the library. The night had turned coolf with a sharp
wind driving the chill through every crack; so a few sticks were sending their
flames crumbling against the big back log. The lamp glowing in the corner was the
only other lightf and when they drew their chairs close to the hearthf great
tongues of shadows leaped and fell on the wall behind them. Vance looked at his
sister with concern. There was a certain complacency about her this evening that
told him in advance that she had formed a new plan with which she was well
pleased. And he had come to dread her plans. www.obooko.com 26 She always filled
him with awe—and never more so than tonightf with her thinf homely face
illuminated irregularly and by flashes. He kept watching her from the sidef with
glances. "I think I know why you've gone away for these few daysf" she said. "To
get used to the new ideaf" he admitted with such frankness that she turned to him
with unusual sympathy. "It was rathe
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r a shock at first." "I know it was. And I wasn't diplomatic. There's too much man
in mef Vance. Altogether too muchf while you—" She closed her lips suddenly. But
he knew perfectly the unspoken words. She was about to suggest that there was too
little man in him. He dropped his chin in his handf partly for comfort and partly
to veil the sneer. If she could have followed what he had done in the past six
days! "And you are used to the new idea?" "You see that I'm back before the time
was up and ahead of my promisef" he said. She nodded. "Which paves the way for
another new idea of mine." He felt that a blow was coming and nerved himself
against the shock of it. But the preparation was merely like tensing one's muscles
against a fall. When the shock camef it stunned him. "Vancef I've decided to adopt
Terence!" His fingertips sank into his cheekf bruising the flesh. What would become
of his six days of work? What would become of his cunning and his forethought? All
destroyed at a
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blow. For if she adopted the boyf the very law would keep her from denying him
afterward. For a moment it seemed to him that some devil must have forewarned her
of his plans. "You don't approve?" she said at lastf anxiously. He threw himself
back in the chair and laughed. All his despair went into that hollowf ringing
sound. "Approve? It's a queer question to ask me. But let it go. I know I couldn't
change you." "I know that you have a right to advisef" she said gently. "You are my
father's son and you have a right to advise on the placing of his name." He had to
keep fighting against surging desires to throw his rage in her face. But he
mastered himselff except for a tremor of his voice. "When are you going to do it?"
"Tomorrow." "Elizabethf why not wait until after the birthday ceremony?"
www.obooko.com 27 "Because I've been haunted by peculiar fearsf since our last
talkf that something might happen before that time. I've actually lain awake at
night and thought about it! An
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d I want to forestall all chances. I want to rivet him to me!" He could see by her
eagerness that her mind had been irrevocably made upf and that nothing could
change her. She wanted agreementf not advice. And with consummate bitterness of
soul he submitted to his fate. "I suppose you're right. Call him down now and I'll
be present when you ask him to join the circle—the family circle of the Cornishesf
you know." He could not school all the bitterness out of his voicef but she seemed
too glad of his bare acquiescence to object to such trifles. She sent Wu Chi to
call Terence down to them. He had apparently been in his shirt sleeves working at
the gun. He came with his hands still faintly glistening from their hasty washingf
and with the coat which he had just bundled into still rather bunched around his
big shoulders. He came and stood against the massivef rough-finished stones of the
fireplace looking down at Elizabeth. There had always been a sort of silent
understanding be
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tween him and Vance. They never exchanged more words and looks than were
absolutely necessary. Vance realized it more than ever as he looked up to the tall
athletic figure. And he realized also that since he had last looked closely at
Terence the latter had slipped out of boyhood and into manhood. There was that
indescribable something about the set of the chin and the straight-looking eyes
that spelled the difference. "Terencef" she saidf "for twenty-four years you have
been my boy." "Yesf Aunt Elizabeth." He acknowledged the gravity of this opening
statement by straightening a littlef his hand falling away from the stone against
which he had been leaning. But Vance looked more closely at his sister. He could
see the gleam of worship in her eyes. "And now I want you to be something more. I
want you to be my boy in the eyes of the lawf so that when anything happens to mef
your place won't be threatened." He was straighter than ever. "I want to adopt
youf Terence!" Somehowf in
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those few moments they had been gradually building to a climax. It was
prodigiously heightened now by the silence of the boy. The throat of Vance
tightened with excitement. "I will be your motherf in the eyes of the lawf" she was
explaining gentlyf as though it were a mystery which Terry could not understand.
"And Vancef heref will be your uncle. You understandf my dear?" www.obooko.com 28
What a world of brooding tenderness went into her voice! Vance wondered at it. But
he wondered more at the stiff-standing form of Terencef and his silence; until he
saw the tender smile vanish from the face of Elizabeth and alarm come into it. All
at once Terence had dropped to one knee before her and taken her hands. And now it
was he who was talking slowlyf gently. "All my life you've given me thingsf Aunt
Elizabeth. You've given me everything. Homef happinessf love—everything that could
be given. So much that you could never be repaidf and all I can do is to love youf
you seef and honor
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you as if you were my motherf in fact. But there's just one thing that can't be
given. And that's a name!" He paused. Elizabeth was listening with a stricken
facef and the heart of Vance thundered with his excitement. Vaguely he felt that
there was something fine and clean and honorable in the heart of this youth which
was being laid bare; but about that he cared very little. He was getting at facts
and emotions which were valuable to him in the terms of dollars and cents. "It
makes me choke upf" said Terencef "to have you offer me this great thing. It's a
fine namef Cornish. But you know that I can't do it. It would be cowardly—a sort
of rotten treason for me to change. It would be wrong. I know it would be wrong.
I'm a Colbyf Aunt Elizabeth. Every time that name is spokenf I feel it tingling
down to my fingertips. I want to stand straighterf live cleaner. When I looked at
the old Colby place in Virginia last yearf it brought the tears to my eyes. I felt
as if I were a pr
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oduct of that soil. Every fine thing that has ever been done by a Colby is a
strength to me. I've studied them. And every now and then when I come to some
brave thing they've donef I wonder if I could do it. And then I say to myself that
I must be able to do just such things or else be a shame to my blood. "Change my
name? Whyf I've gone all my life thanking God that I come of a race of gentlemenf
clean-handedf and praying God to make me worthy of it. That name is like a whip
over me. It drives me on and makes me want to do some fine big thing one of these
days. Think of it! I'm the last of a race. I'm the end of it. The last of the
Colbys! Whyf when you think of itf you see how I can't possibly changef don't you?
If I lost thatf I'd lose the best half of myself and my self-respect! You
understandf don't you? Not that I slight the name of Cornish for an instant. But
even if names can be changedf blood can't be changed!" She turned her head. She met
the gleaming eyes of Vance
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f and then let her glance probe the fire and shadow of the hearth. "It's all
rightf my dearf" she said faintly. "Stand up." www.obooko.com 29 "I've hurt youf"
he said contritelyf leaning over her. "I feel—like a dog. Have I hurt you?" "Not
the least in the world. I only offered it for your happinessf Terry. And if you
don't need itf there's no more to be said!" He bent and kissed her forehead. The
moment he had disappeared through the tall doorwayf Vancef past controlf exploded.
"Of all the damnable exhibitions of pride in a young upstartf this—" "Hushf hush!"
said Elizabeth faintly. "It's the finest thing I've ever heard Terry say. But it
frightens mef Vance. It frightens me to know that I've formed the character and
the pride and the self-respect of that boy on—a lie! Pray God that he never learns
the truth!" CHAPTER 7 There were not many guests. Elizabeth had chosen them
carefully from families which had known her fatherf Henry Cornishf whenf in his
recklessf adventurous wa
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yf he had been laying the basis of the Cornish fortune in the Rockies. Indeedf she
was a little angry when she heard of the indiscriminate way in which Vance had
scattered the invitationsf particularly in Craterville. Butf as he saidf he had
acted so as to show her that he had entered fully into the spirit of the thingf
and that his heart was in the right place as far as this birthday party was
concernedf and she could not do otherwise than accept his explanation. Some of the
bidden guestsf howeverf came from a great distancef and as a matter of course a
few of them arrived the day before the celebration and filled the quiet rooms of
the old house with noise. Elizabeth accepted them with resignationf and even
pleasuref because they all had pleasant things to say about her father and good
wishes to express for the destined heirf Terence Colby. It was carefully explained
that this selection of an heir had been made by both Elizabeth and Vancef which
removed all cause for remar
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k. Vance himself regarded the guests with distinct amusement. But Terence was
disgusted. "What these true Westerners needf" he said to Elizabeth later in the
dayf "is a touch of blood. No feeling of family or the dignity of family
precedents out here." It touched her shrewdly. More than once she had felt that
Terry was on the verge of becoming a complacent prig. So she countered with a
sharp thrust. www.obooko.com 30 "You have to remember that you're a Westerner born
and bredf my dear. A very Westerner yourself!" "Birth is an accident—birthplacesf
I meanf" smiled Terence. "It's the blood that tells." "Terryf you're a snob!"
exclaimed Aunt Elizabeth. "I hope notf" he answered. "But look yonderf now!" Old
George Armstrong's daughterf Nellyf had gone up a tree like a squirrel and was
laughing down through the branches at a raw-boned cousin on the ground beneath
her. "And what of it?" said Elizabeth. "That girl is pretty enough to please any
man; and she's the type that makes a wi
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fe." Terry rubbed his chin with his knuckles thoughtfully. It was the one family
habit that he had contracted from Vancef much to the irritation of the latter.
"After allf" said Terryf with complacencyf "what are good looks with bad grammar?"
Elizabeth snorted literally and most unfemininely. "Terencef" she saidf lessoning
him with her bonyf long forefingerf "you're just young enough to be wise about
women. When you're a little olderf you'll get sense. If you want white hands and
good grammarf how do you expect to find a wife in the mountains?" Terry answered
with unshakenf lordly calm. "I haven't thought about the details. They don't
matter. But a man must have standards of criticism." "Standards your foot!" cried
Aunt Elizabeth. "You insufferable young prig. That very girl laughing down through
the branches—I'll wager she could set your head spinning in ten seconds if she
thought it worth her while to try." "Perhapsf" smiled Terence. "In the meantime she
has freckles and a v
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ocabulary without growing pains." "All men are foolsf" declared Aunt Elizabeth;
"but boys are idiotsf bless 'em! Terencef before you grow up you'll have sore toes
from stumblingf take my word for it! Do you know what a wise man would do?"
"Well?" "Go out and start a terrific flirtation with Nelly." "For the sake of
experience?" sighed Terence. "Good heavens!" groaned Aunt Elizabeth. "Terryf you're
impossible! Where are you going now?" "Out to see El Sangre." He went whistling
out of the doorf and she followed him with confused feelings of angerf pridef joyf
and fear. She went to a side window and saw him go www.obooko.com 31 fearlessly
into the corral where the man-destroying El Sangre was kept. And the big stallionf
red fire in the sunshinef went straight to him and nosed at a hip pocket. They had
already struck up a perfect understanding. Deeply she wondered at it. She had
never loved the mountains and their people and their ways. It had been a battle to
fight. She had fough
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t the battlef wonf and gained a hollow victory. And watching Terry caress the
greatf beautiful horsef she knew vaguely that his heartf at leastf was in tune
with the wilderness. "I wish to heavenf Terryf" she murmuredf "that you could find
a master as El Sangre has done. You need teaching." When she turned from the
windowf she found Vance watching her. He had a habit of obscurely melting into a
background and looking out at her unexpectedly. All at once she knew that he had
been there listening during all of her talk with Terence. Not that the talk had
been of a peculiarly private naturef but it angered her. There was just a
semblance of eavesdropping about the presence of Vance. For she knew that Terence
unbosomed himself to her as he would do in the hearing of no other human being.
Howeverf she mastered her anger and smiled at her brother. He had taken all these
recent changes which were so much to his disadvantage with a good spirit that
astonished and touched her. "Do y
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ou know what I'm going to give Terry for his birthday?" he saidf sauntering toward
her. "Well?" A mention of Terence and his welfare always disarmed her completely.
She opened her eyes and her heart and smiled at her brother. "There's no set of
Scott in the house. I'm going to give Terry one." "Do you think he'll ever read the
novels? I never could. That antiquated stylef Vancef keeps me at arm's length." "A
stiff style because he wrote so rapidly. But there's the greatest body and bone of
character. Except for his heroes. Terry reminds me of themf in a way. No thoughtf
not very much feelingf but a great capacity for physical action." "I think you'd
like to be Terry's adviserf" she said. "I wouldn't aspire to the jobf" yawned
Vancef "unless I could ride well and shoot well. If a man can't do thatf he ceases
to be a man in Terry's eyes. And if a woman can't talk pure Englishf she isn't a
woman." "That's because he's youngf" said Elizabeth. "It's because he's a prigf"
sneered Vanc
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e. He had been drawn farther into the conversation than he planned; now he
retreated carefully. "But another year or so may help him." www.obooko.com 32 He
retreated before she could answerf but he left her thoughtfulf as he hoped to do.
He had a standing theory that the only way to make a woman meditate is to keep her
from talking. And he wanted very much to make Elizabeth meditate the evil in the
son of Black Jack. Otherwise all his plans might be useless and his seeds of
destruction fall on barren soil. He was intensely afraid of thatf anyway. His hope
was to draw the boy and the sheriff together on the birthday and guide the two
explosives until they met on the subject of the death of Black Jack. Either Terry
would kill the sherifff or the sheriff would kill Terry. Vance hoped for the
latterf but rather expected the former to be the outcomef and if it weref he was
inclined to think that Elizabeth would sooner or later make excuses for Terry and
take him back into the fo
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ld of her affections. Accordinglyf his work wasf in the few days that intervenedf
to plant all the seeds of suspicion that he could. Thenf when the denouement camef
those seeds might blossom overnight into poison flowers. In the late afternoon he
took up his position in an easy chair on the big veranda. The mail was deliveredf
as a rulef just before duskf one of the cow#punchers riding down for it. Grave
fears about the loss of that all- important missive to Terry haunted himf for the
postmaster was a doddering old fellow who was quite apt to forget his head.
Consequently he was vastly relieved when the mail arrived and Elizabeth brought
the familiar big envelope out to himf with its typewritten address. "Looks like a
business letterf doesn't it?" she asked Vance. "More or lessf" said Vancef covering
a yawn of excitement. "But how on earth could any business—it's postmarked from
Craterville." "Somebody may have heard about his prospects; they're starting early
to separate him
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from his money." "Vancef how much talking did you do in Craterville?" It was hard
to meet her keen old eyes. "Too muchf I'm afraidf" he said frankly. "You seef I've
felt rather touchy about the thing. I want people to know that you and I have
agreed on making Terry the heir to the ranch. I don't want anyone to suspect that
we differed. I suppose I talked too much about the birthday plans." She sighed
with vexation and weighed the letter in her hand. "I've half a mind to open it."
His heartbeat fluttered and paused. "Go aheadf" he urgedf with well-assured
carelessness. She shook down the contents of the envelope preparatory to opening
it. "It's nothing but printed stufff Vance. I can see thatf through the envelope."
www.obooko.com 33 "But wait a minutef Elizabeth. It might anger Terry to have even
his business mail opened. He's touchyf you know." She hesitatedf then shrugged her
shoulders. "I suppose you're right. Let it go." She laughed at her own concern over
the matter. "Do you
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knowf Vancef that sometimes I feel as if the whole world were conspiring to get a
hand on Terry?" CHAPTER 8 Terry did not come down for dinner. It was more or less
of a calamityf for the board was quite full of early guests for the next day's
festivities. Aunt Elizabeth shifted the burden of the entertainment onto the
capable shoulders of Vancef who could please these Westerners when he chose.
Tonight he decidedly chose. Elizabeth had never see him in such high spirits. He
could flirt good#humoredly and openly across the table at Nellyf or else turn and
draw an anecdote from Nelly's father. He kept the reins in his hands and drove the
talk along so smoothly that Elizabeth could sit in gloomy silencef unnoticedf at
the farther end of the table. Her mind was up yonder in the room of Terry.
Something had happenedf and it had come through that long business envelope with
the typewritten address that seemed so harmless. One reading of the contents had
brought Terry out of his chai
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r with an exclamation. Thenf without explanation of any sortf he had gone to his
room and stayed there. She would have followed to find out what was the matterf
but the requirements of dinner and her guests kept her downstairs. Immediately
after dinner Vancef at a signal from herf dexterously herded everyone into the
living room and distributed them in comfort around the big fireplace; Elizabeth
Cornish bolted straight for the room of Terence. She knocked and tried the door.
To her astonishmentf the knob turnedf but the door did not open. She heard the
click and felt the jar of the bolt. Terry had locked his door! A little thing to
make her heart fallf one would sayf but little things about Terry were great
things to Elizabeth. In twenty-four years he had never locked his door. What could
it mean? It was a moment before she could callf and she waited breathlessly. She
was reassured by a quiet voice that answered her: "Just a moment. I'll open." The
tone was so matter-of-fact
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that her heartf with one leapf came back to normal and tears of relief misted her
eyes for an instant. Perhaps he was up here working out a surprise for the next
day—he was full of tricks and surprises. That www.obooko.com 34 was unquestionably
it. And he took so long in coming to the door because he was hiding the thing he
had been working on. As for foodf Wu Chi was his slave and would have smuggled a
tray up to him. Presently the lock turned and the door opened. She could not see
his face distinctly at firstf the light was so strong behind him. Besidesf she was
more occupied in looking for the tray of food which would assure her that Terry
was not suffering from some mental crisis that had made him forget even dinner.
She found the trayf sure enoughf but the food had not been touched. She turned on
him with a new rush of alarm. And all her fears were realized. Terry had been
fighting a hard battle and he was still fighting. About his eyes there was the
lookf half-dull an
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d half-hardf that comes in the eyes of young people unused to pain. A worriedf
tensef hungry face. He took her arm and led her to the table. On it lay an article
clipped out of a magazine. She looked down at it with unseeing eyes. The sheets
were already much crumbled. Terry turned them to a full- page picturef and
Elizabeth found herself looking down into the face of Black Jackf proudf handsomef
defiant. Had Vance been theref he might have recognized her actions. As she had
done one day twenty-four years agof now she turned and dropped heavily into a
chairf her bony hands pressed to her shallow bosom. A moment later she was on her
feet againf ready to fightf ready to tell a thousand lies. But it was too late. The
revelation had been complete and she could tell by his face that Terence knew
everything. "Terryf" she said faintlyf "what on earth have you to do with that—"
"Listenf Aunt Elizabethf" he saidf "you aren't going to fib about itf are you?"
"What in the world are you
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talking about?" "Why were you so shocked?" She knew it was a futile battle. He was
prying at her inner mind with short questions and a hardf dry voice. "It was the
face of that terrible man. I saw him once beforef you know. On the day—" "On the
day he was murdered!" That word told her everything. "Murdered!" It lighted all the
mental processes through which he had been going. Who in all the reaches of the
mountain desert had ever before dreamed of terming the killing of the notorious
Black Jack a "murder"? "What are you sayingf Terence? That fellow—" "Hush! Look at
us!" www.obooko.com 35 He picked up the photograph and stood back so that the light
fell sharply on his face and on the photograph which he held beside his head. He
caught up a sombrero and jammed it jauntily on his head. He tilted his face highf
with resolute chin. And all at once there were two Black Jacksf not one. He
evidently saw all the admission that he cared for in her face. He took off the hat
with a dragg
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ing motion and replaced the photograph on the table. "I tried it in the mirrorf" he
said quietly. "I wasn't quite sure until I tried it in the mirror. Then I knewf of
course." She felt him slipping out of her life. "What shall I say to youf Terence?"
"Is that my real name?" She winced. "Yes. Your real name." "Good. Do you remember
our talk of today?" "What talk?" He drew his breath with something of a groan. "I
said that what these people lacked was the influence of family—of old blood!" He
made himself smile at herf and Elizabeth trembled. "If I could explain— " she
began. "Ahf what is there to explainf Aunt Elizabeth? Except that you have been a
thousand times kinder to me than I dreamed before. Whyf I—I actually thought that
you were rather honored by having a Colby under your roof. I really felt that I
was bestowing something of a favor on you!" "Terryf sit down!" He sank into a chair
slowly. And she sat on the arm of it with her mournful eyes on his face. "Whatever
your name
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may bef that doesn't change the man who wears the name." He laughed softly. "And
you've been teaching me steadily for twenty-four years that blood will tell? You
can't change like this. Ohf I understand it perfectly. You determined to make me
over. You determined to destroy my heritage and put the name of the fine old
Colbys in its place. It was a brave thing to tryf and all these years how you must
have waitedf and waited to see how I would turn outf dreading every day some
outbreak of the bad blood! Ahf you have a nerve of steelf Aunt Elizabeth! How have
you endured the suspense?" She felt that he was mocking her subtly under this flow
of compliment. But it was the bitterness of painf not of reproachf she knew.
www.obooko.com 36 She said: "Why didn't you let me come up with you? Why didn't you
send for me?" "I've been busy doing a thing that no one could help me with. I've
been burning my dreams." He pointed to a smoldering heap of ashes on the hearth.
"Terry!" "Yesf all t
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he Colby pictures that I've been collecting for the past fifteen years. I burned
'em. They don't mean anything to anyone elsef and certainly they have ceased to
mean anything to me. But when I came to Anthony Colby—the eighteen-twelve manf you
knowf the one who has always been my hero—it went pretty hard. I felt as if—I were
burning my own personality. As a matter of factf in the last couple of hours I've
been born over again." Terry paused. "And births are painfulf Aunt Elizabeth!" At
that she cried out and caught his hand. "Terry dear! Terry dear! You break my
heart!" "I don't mean to. You mustn't think that I'm pitying myself. But I want to
know the real name of my father. He must have had some name other than Black Jack.
What was it?" "Are you going to gather his memory to your heartf Terry?" "I am
going to find something about him that I can be proud of. Blood will tell. I know
that I'm not all badf and there must have been good in Black Jack. I want to know
all about hi
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m. I want to know about—his crimes." He labored through a fierce moment of silent
struggle while her heart went helplessly out to him. "Because—I had a hand in
every one of those crimes! Everything that he did is something that I might have
done under the same temptation." "But you're not all your father's son. You had a
mother. A dearf sweet#faced girl—" "Don't!" whispered Terry. "I suppose he broke—
her heart?" "She was a very delicate girlf" she said after a moment. "And now my
father's namef please?" "Not that just now. Give me until tomorrow nightf Terry.
Will you do that? Will you wait till tomorrow nightf Terry? I'm going to have a
long talk with you thenf about many things. And I want you to keep this in mind
always. No matter how long you livef the influence of the Colbys will never go out
of your life. And neither will my influencef I hope. If there is anything good in
mef it has gone into you. I have seen to that. Terryf you are not your father's
son alone. All these o
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ther things have entered into your make-up. They're just as much a part of you as
his blood." www.obooko.com 37 "Ahf yesf" said Terry. "But blood will tell!" It was
a mournful echo of a thing she had told him a thousand times. CHAPTER 9 She went
straight down to the big living room and drew Vance awayf mindless of her guests.
He came humming until he was past the door and in the shadowy hall. Then he
touched her armf suddenly grown serious. "What's wrongf Elizabeth?" Her voice was
lowf vibrating with fierceness. And Vance blessed the dimness of the hallf for he
could feel the blood recede from his face and the sweat stand on his forehead.
"Vancef if you've done what I think you've donef you're lower than a snakef and
more poisonous and more treacherous. And I'll cut you out of my heart and my life.
You know what I mean?" It was really the first important crisis that he had ever
faced. And now his heart grew smallf cold. He knewf miserablyf his own cowardice.
And like all cowa
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rdsf he fell back on bold lying to carry him through. It was a triumph that he
could make his voice steady—more than steady. He could even throw the right shade
of disgust into it. "Is this another one of your tantrumsf Elizabeth? By heavensf
I'm growing tired of 'em. You continually throw in my face that you hold the
strings of the purse. Wellf tie them up as far as I'm concerned. I won't whine.
I'd rather have that happen than be tyrannized over any longer." She was much
shaken. And there was a sting in this reproach that carried home to her; there was
just a sufficient edge of truth to wound her. Had there been much lightf she could
have read his face; the dimness of the hall was saving Vancef and he knew it. "God
knows I'd like to believe that you haven't had anything to do with it. But you and
I are the only two people in the world who know the secret of it—" He pretended to
guess. "It's something about Terence? Something about his father?" Again she was
disarmed. If he
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were guiltyf it was strange that he should approach the subject so openly. And she
began to doubt. "Vancef he knows everything! Everything except the real name of
Black Jack!" www.obooko.com 38 "Good heavens!" She strained her eyes through the
shadows to make out his real expression; but there seemed to be a real horror in
his restrained whisper. "It isn't possiblef Elizabeth!" "It came in that letter.
That letter I wanted to openf and which you persuaded me not to!" She mustered all
her damning facts one after another. "And it was postmarked from Craterville.
Vancef you have been in Craterville lately!" He seemed to consider. "Could I have
told anyone? Could If possibly? Nof Elizabethf I'll give you my word of honor that
I've never spoken a syllable about that subject to anyone!" "Ahf but what have you
written?" "I've never put pen to paper. But—how did it happen?" He had control of
himself now. His voice was steadier. He could feel her recede from her
aggressiveness. "It was
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dated after you left Cratervillef of course. And—I can't stand imagining that you
could be so low. Onlyf who else would have a motive?" "But how was it done?" "They
sent him an article about his father and a picture of Black Jack that happens to
look as much like Terry as two peas." "Then I have it! If the picture looks like
Terryf someone took it for granted that he'd be interested in the similarity.
That's why it was sent. Unless they told him that he was really Black Jack's son.
Did the person who sent the letter do that?" "There was no letter. Only a magazine
clipping and the photograph of the painting." They were both silent. Plainly she
had dismissed all idea of her brother's guilt. "But what are we going to dof
Elizabeth? And how has he taken it?" "Like poisonf Vance. He—he burned all the
Colby pictures. Ohf Vancef twenty-four years of work are thrown away!" "Nonsense!
This will all straighten out. I'm glad he's found out. Sooner or later he was
pretty sure to. Such thi
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ngs will come to light." "Vancef you'll help me? You'll forgive me for accusing
youf and you'll help me to keep Terry in hand for the next few days? You seef he
declared that he will not be ashamed of his father." "You can't blame him for
that." "God knows I blame no one but myself." www.obooko.com 39 "I'll help you with
every ounce of strength in my mind and bodyf my dear." She pressed his hand in
silence. "I'm going up to talk with him nowf" he said. "I'm going to do what I can
with him. You go in and talk. And don't let them see that anything is wrong." The
door had not been locked again. He entered at the call of Terry and found him
leaning over the hearth stirring up the pile of charred paper to make it burn more
freely. A shadow crossed the face of Terry as he saw his visitorf but he banished
it at once and rose to greet him. In his heart Vance was a little moved. He went
straight to the younger man and took his hand. "Elizabeth has told mef" he said
gentlyf and he looked
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with a moist eye into the face of the man whof if his plans worked outf would be
either murderer or murdered before the close of the next day. "I am very sorryf
Terence." "I thought you came to congratulate mef" said Terryf withdrawing his
hand. "Congratulate you?" echoed Vancef with unaffected astonishment. "For having
learned the truthf" said Terry. "Alsof for having a father who was a strong man."
Vance could not resist the opening. "In a wayf I suppose he wasf" he said dryly.
"And if you look at it in that wayf I do congratulate youf Terence!" "You've
always hated mef Uncle Vancef" Terry declared. "I've known it all these years. And
I'll do without your congratulations." "You're wrongf Terryf" said Vance. He kept
his voice mild. "You're very wrong. But I'm old enough not to take offense at what
a young spitfire says." "I suppose you aref" retorted Terryf in a tone which
implied that he himself would never reach that age. "And when a few years run byf"
went on Vancef "you'll
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change your viewpoint. In the meantimef my boyf let me give you this warning. No
matter what you think about mef it is Elizabeth who counts." "Thanks. You need
have no fear about my attitude to Aunt Elizabeth. You ought to know that I love
herf and respect her." "Exactly. But you're headstrongf Terry. Very headstrong. And
so is Elizabeth. Take your own case. She took you into the family for the sake of
a theory. Did you know that?" The boy stiffened. "A theory?" "Quite so. She wished
to prove that bloodf after allf was more talk than a vital influence. So she took
you in and gave you an imaginary line of ancestors www.obooko.com 40 with which
you were entirely contented. Butf after allf it has been twenty-four years of
theory rather than twenty-four years of Terry. You understand?" "It's a rather
nasty thing to hearf" said Terence huskily. "Perhaps you're right. I don't know.
Perhaps you're right." "And if her theory is proved wrong—look outf Terry! She'll
throw you out of h
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er life without a second thought." "Is that a threat?" "My dear boyf not by any
means. You think I have hated you? Not at all. I have simply been indifferent. Now
that you are in more or less troublef you see that I come to you. And hereafter if
there should be a crisisf you will see who is your true friend. Nowf good night!"
He had saved his most gracious speech until the very endf and after it he retired
at once to leave Terence with the pleasant memory in his mind. For he had in his
mind the idea of a perfect crime for which he would not be punished. He would turn
Terry into a corpse or a killerf and in either case the youngster would never
dream who had dealt the blow. No wonderf thenf as he went downstairsf that he
stepped onto the veranda for a few moments. The moon was just up beyond Mount
Discovery; the valley unfolded like a dream. Never had the estate seemed so
charming to Vance Cornishf for he felt that his hand was closing slowly around his
inheritance. CHAPTER 10
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The sleep of the night seemed to blot out the excitement of the preceding
evening. A bright sunf a cool stir of airf brought in the next morningf and
certainly calamity had never seemed farther from the Cornish ranch than it did on
this day. All through the morning people kept arriving in ones and twos. Every
buckboard on the place was commissioned to haul the guests around the smooth roads
and show them the estate; and those who preferred were furnished with saddle
horses from the stable to keep their own mounts fresh for their return trip. Vance
took charge of the wagon parties; Terence himself guided the horsemenf and he rode
El Sangref a flashing streak of blood red. The exercise brought the color to his
face; the wind raised his spirits; and when the gathering at the house to wait for
the big dinner beganf he was as gay as any. www.obooko.com 41 "That's the way with
young peoplef" Elizabeth confided to her brother. "Trouble slips off their minds."
And then the second b
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low fellf the blow on which Vance had counted for his great results. No less a
person than Sheriff Joe Minter galloped up and threw his reins before the veranda.
He approached Elizabeth with a high flourish of his hat and a profound bowf for
Uncle Joe Minter affected the mannered courtesy of the "Southern" school. Vance
had them in profile from the sidef and his nervous glance flickered from one to
the other. The sheriff was plainly pleased with what he had seen on his way up
Bear Creek. He was also happy to be present at so large a gathering. But to
Elizabeth his coming was like a death. Her brother could tell the difference
between her forced cordiality and the real thing. She had his horse put up;
presented him to the few people whom he had not metf and then left him posing for
the crowd of admirers. Life to the sheriff was truly a stage. Then Elizabeth went
to Vance. "You saw?" she gasped. "Sheriff Minter? What of it? Rather nervy of the
old ass to come up here for the
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party; he hardly knows us." "Nof no! Not that! But don't you remember? Don't you
remember what Joe Minter did?" "Good Lord!" gasped Vancef apparently just
recalling. "He killed Black Jack! And what will Terry do when he finds out?" She
grew still whiterf hearing him name her own fear. "They mustn't meetf" she said
desperately. "Vancef if you're half a man you'll find some way of getting that
pompousf windy idiot off the place." "My dear! Do you want me to invite him to
leave?" "Something—I don't care what!" "Neither do I. But I can't insult the fool.
That type resents an insult with gunplay. We must simply keep them apart. Keep the
sheriff from talking." "Keep rain from falling!" groaned Elizabeth. "Vancef if you
won't do anythingf I'll go and tell the sheriff that he must leave!" "You don't
mean it!" "Do you think that I'm going to risk a murder?" "I suppose you're rightf"
nodded Vancef changing his tactics with Machiavellian smoothness. "If Terry saw
the man who killed his fath
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erf all his twenty-four years of training would go up in smoke and the blood of
his father would talk in him. There'd be a shooting!" www.obooko.com 42 She caught
a hand to her throat. "I'm not so sure of thatf Vance. I think he would come
through this acid test. But I don't want to take chances." "I don't blame youf
Elizabethf" said her brother heartily. "Neither would I. But if the sheriff stays
heref I feel that I'm going to win the bet that I made twenty-four years ago. You
remember? That Terry would shoot a man before he was twenty-five?" "Have I ever
forgotten?" she said huskily. "Have I ever let it go out of my mind? But it isn't
the danger of Terry shooting. It's the danger of Terry being shot. If he should
reach for a gun against the sheriff—that professional mankiller—Vancef something
has to be done!" "Rightf" he nodded. "I wouldn't trust Terry in the face of such a
temptation to violence. Not for a moment!" The natural stubbornness on which he
had counted hardened
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in her face. "I don't know." "It would be an acid testf Elizabeth. But perhaps now
is the time. You've spent twenty-four years training him. If he isn't what he
ought to be nowf he never will bef no doubt." "It may be that you're rightf" she
said gloomily. "Twenty-four years! Yesf and I've filled about half of my time with
Terry and his training. Vancef you are right. If he has the elements of a
mankiller in him after what I've done for himf then he's a hopeless case. The
sheriff shall stay! The sheriff shall stay!" She kept repeating itf as though the
repetition of the phrase might bring her courage. And then she went back among her
guests. As for Vancef he remained skillfully in the background that day. It was
peculiarly vitalf this day of all daysf that he should not be much in evidence. No
one must see in him a controlling influence. In the meantime he watched his sister
with a growing admiration and with a growing concern. Instantly she had a problem
on her hands. For the
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moment Terence heard that the great sheriff himself had joined the partyf he was
filled with happiness. Vance watched them meet with a heart swelling with
happiness and surety of success. Straight through a group came Terryf weaving his
way eagerlyf and went up to the sheriff. Vance saw Elizabeth attempt to detain
himf attempt to send him on an errand. But he waved her suggestion away for a
moment and made for the sheriff. Elizabethf seeing that the meeting could not be
avoidedf at least determined to be present at it. She came up with Terence and
presented him. "Sheriff Minterf this is Terence Colby." www.obooko.com 43 "I've
heard of youf Colbyf" said the sheriff kindly. And he waited for a response with
the gleaming eye of a vain man. There was not long to wait. "You've really heard of
me?" said Terryf immensely pleased. "By the Lordf I've heard of youf sheriff! Butf
of coursef everybody has." "I dunnof sonf" said the sheriff benevolently. "But I
been drifting around a to
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lerable long timef I guess." "Whyf" said Terryf with a sort of outburstf "I've
simply eaten up everything I could gather. I've even read about you in magazines!"
"Wellf now you don't sayf" protested the sheriff. "In magazines?" And his eye
quested through the groupf hoping for other listeners who might learn how broadly
the fame of their sheriff was spread. "That Canning fellow who travelled out West
and ran into you and was along while you were hunting down the Garrison boys. I
read his article." The sheriff scratched his chin. "I disremember him. Canning?
Canning? Come to think of itf I do remember him. Kind of a small man with washed-
out eyes. Always with a notebook on his knee. I got sick of answering all that
gent's questionsf I recollect. Yepf he was along when I took the Garrison boysf
but that little party didn't amount to much." "He thought it didf" said Terry
fervently. "Said it was the bravestf coolest#headedf cunningest piece of work he'd
ever seen done. Perhaps you
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'll tell me some of the other things—the things you count big?" "Ohf I ain't done
nothing muchf come to think of it. All pretty simplef they looked to mef when I
was doing them. Besidesf I ain't much of a hand at talk!" "Ahf" said Terryf "you'd
talk well enough to suit mef sheriff!" The sheriff had found a listener after his
own heart. "They ain't nothing but a campfire that gives a good light to see a
story by—the kind of stories I got to tellf" he declared. "Some of these days
I'll take you along with me on a trailf sonf if you'd like—and most like I'll talk
your arm off at night beside the fire. Like to come?" "Like to?" cried Terry. "I'd
be the happiest man in the mountains!" "Would youf now? Wellf Colbyf you and me
might hit it off pretty well. I've heard tell you ain't half bad with a rifle and
pretty slick with a revolverf too." "I practice hardf" said Terry frankly. "I love
guns." "Good things to lovef and good things to hatef toof" philosophized the
sheriff. "But all ri
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ght in their own placef which ain't none too bigf these days. The old times is
gone when a man went out into the world with a hoss under himf and www.obooko.com
44 a pair of Colts strapped to his waistf and made his own way. Them days is gonef
and our younger boys is going to pot!" "I suppose sof" admitted Terry. "But you got
a spark in youf son. Wellf one of these days we'll get together. And I hear tell
you got El Sangre?" "I was luckyf" said Terry. "That's a sizable piece of workf
Colby. I've seen twenty that run El Sangref and never even got close enough to eat
his dust. Nacheral pacerf right enough. I've seen him kite across country like a
train! And his mane and tail blowing like smoke!" "I got him with patience. That
was all." "S'pose we take a look at him?" "By all means. Just come along with me."
Elizabeth struck in. "Just a momentf Terence. There's Mr. Gainorf and he's been
asking to see you. You can take the sheriff out to see El Sangre later. Besidesf
half a dozen
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away. Cat followed her gaze. Ysabel’s blood had stopped flowing. Her skin was like
parchment. Both Cats thoughtf She can’t be dead! Not Tia Ysabel! As Baldomero
looked at Ysabel’s bodyf his face contorted. He leaned forward as if he would fall
to his knees. Then his lips and eyelids narrowed. He drew himself straight and told
Zoraidaf “They must die. They’ll just kill and kill until —” Auntie Fong pointed
the rifle at Cat. “Wait!” Zoraida shouted. The first Cat thoughtf Why are Dad’s
family so afraid of me? The second answeredf Because they’re wise. Cat saidf
“Pleasef Auntie Fong! I thought you loved me!” Auntie Fong shook her head. “I loved
a girl who died at midnight.” Zoraida told Auntie Fongf “We had a truce for
fourteen years. Let it last until dawn.” “Why should I trust you?” Professor M
saidf “Because she loves her daughter.” Zoraida glanced at himf then saidf “I thank
you for that much.” He addedf “In her cruelf twisted —” “You never did know when to
stop.” “Explains why I marr
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WRAITHSONG By E. J. SQUIRES This is a work of fiction. All the charactersf
organizations and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. OBOOKO EDITION ISBN-13: 978-
1492219903 ISBN-10: 1492219908 Copyright © 2014 E. J. Squires All rights reserved.
Fans of the writings of Cassandra Claref Claudia Grayf Kami Garciaf and Margaret
Stohl have a new author to take notice off E.J. Squires. Squires joins the ranks of
these paranormal-romance greats head on with her thrilling new novelf Wraithsong.
She perfectly weaves the old world and the new in her novelf so that readers never
know what new creature they will be facing next. The action scenes the author has
written are well thought out and exciting. The farther I readf the harder it was to
put downf and I wasn’t ready for it to end when I turned the last page. ~ Tania
Staley—Goodreads User As much as this story is about mythology and paranormal
concepts it is also a coming of
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age story that young adults will recognize as the same changes that occur within
everyone as they enter that frightening realm of adult life a time when anything
can happen to alter the step into the new world. This is a well-written book that
will appeal to a large audience of young adultsf especially those who have followed
such successes as the Twilight Series. Squires appears to have a bright career
ahead. ~ Grady Harp—Hall of Fame Amazon Reviewer At this point in timef I feel more
than comfortable in saying that if I walked into a bookstore and saw this author's
name on a bookf I wouldn't even have to read the coversf I would buy it straight
up. I have read enough to know that I will be pleased with what she writes. Anyone
who is looking for a good romancef some Norse mythology and fantasy all mixed
togetherf this is your book. Young and old alikef I even feel more than comfortable
allowing my teenage daughter to read this book. ~ Michelle Lynn Randall—
Professional Reviewer Reader
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’s Choice Wraithsong by E.J. Squires is an amazing story about a girl whof on top
of being at a fragile age as a teenagerf has to deal with secret powers that mess
with her emotions and can either be her salvation or undoing. E.J. Squires' writing
style and skill sets a tone and mood that perfectly fits the plot and the
charactersf each in their different wayf bring this incredible story to life. The
manner in which the story bounces between the contemporary setting and the fantasy
world is done in such way that is very distinct and flawlessf and adds to the
excitement to give a thrilling reading experience. I totally enjoyed this page-
turner and I cannot wait to pick up book II and see where the story goes from here.
Faridah Nassozi—Professional Reviewer Reader’s Choice 2 I have read E.J. Squires
debut novel Winter Solstice Winter beforef and I immensely enjoyed it. When I
learned about her new bookf I had to make sure that I get a copy of this. Once
againf I fell in love with her ne
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w bookf Wraithsong - Desirable Creatures. ~ Arienne—a Bookworm Loose Blogspot I’m
not sure how to explain what I’m feeling at the moment without sounding like a
young adult madly in love with a bookf but I love everything about this!
“Wraithsong”f book 1 of Desirable Creatures is an action-packed YA fantasy book
laced with humor; it’s safe to say this is one of the best YA books this year.
Characterization is very spot onf the plot itself is very interesting and I’d love
to see it play on the big screen! ~Ella Larena—Goodreads User Other books Available
by E. J. Squires: Blufire Desirable Creatures Seriesf Book II (Coming Feb. 2015)
Winter Solstice Winter A Viking Blood Sagaf Book I Summer Solstice Summer A Viking
Blood Sagaf Book II Ragnarok Spring A Viking Blood Sagaf Book III 3 (Coming Soon)
Trepidation White Witch Black Warlock Seriesf Book I (Coming Soon) For more
informationf go to: http://ejsquires.com Evef mother of all livingf labored and
toiled long days and nights. One da
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yf God came down and visited her. Embarrassed that she only had enough time to
clean seven of her thirteen childrenf she hid the six soiled ones from him. God
found themf and reprimanded Eve for having been ashamed of her own flesh and blood.
“Those you have hidden from me…” God saidf “…they will stand out from the rest of
mankind. I will clean them for you so that all men and women will aspire to be that
which you have cast aside. From this day forwardf they will be known as the Huldraf
meaning secret desire.” Chapter 1 The day is sunny and ridiculously humidf even for
Florida. We get into the SUV and my mom secures her seat beltf turns the engine onf
lowers the volume of Mr. Tchaikovsky—her favorite—and faces me. “You have to be
more carefulf Soniaf” she says with a look of utter disappointment if I’ve ever
seen one: teeth 4 clenchedf glaring eyesf head cocked to one sidef right eyebrow
raised. It’s a look I hate and will do almost anything in the world to avoid. We
just left the p
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rinciple’s office and it went a little something like this: I was blamed for the
fight with Savannah even though she’s the one who’s been bullying me all year.
Savannah didn’t get any punishment at all—I think Principal Jenkins has a thing for
her—even though I was the one who ended up with a bloody nose and the only thing I
did was spit in her face. Anywayf so I was sentenced to ten hours of weeding the
school’s premises with a guy named Anthony (probably some plant geek)f starting
Monday. Not looking forward to it. “I’ve already spoken to you about not letting
your saliva come in contact with anyone elsef” my mom says angrily. And she has.
One day at lunchf I asked Lisaf a friend I had in third gradef if she’d share her
brownie with me. She said nof but let me take a sip of her juice instead. After
thatf she gave me the brownief and every day until she moved away two years laterf
she would bring me some kind of sweet treat to school. Finding it strangef I told
my mom about it and she
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said I ‘must never share my drinks with anyone’ (same angry tone). That was also
the week I got the no-kissing-until-I-turn-eighteen lecture from both of my
parents. Apparentlyf when my saliva comes in contact with a personf they’ll do
whatever I want them to—or something like that. My mom has the same ability as mef
but she refuses to tell me exactly what it is or where the ability comes from. I’m
starting to think we’re just freaks of nature —unnatural and potentially dangerous
misfits. And what’s worsef latelyf I find myself obsessing about how I can make
others do what I wantf even though I know deep inside that it’s not the right thing
to do. I wish these urges would just go away or I wish my mom would tell me why
I’ve recently developed such strong urgesf and how to get rid of them. 5 “I knowf
but Savannah’s been bullying me all year and I just couldn’t take it anymore!” I
say in my defense. Savannah’s one of the meanest girls at our schoolf and recently
I’ve been the target o
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f all her attacks. Her actions against me started off small—petty pranks that were
quite easy to disregardf like the tacks she put on my chair and the garlic she
smeared in my locker. It was a while agof but my locker still smellsf and I'm
careful now to always check my seat before I sit down. I can’t prove that it was
her that did this to mef but every time I check my chair for tacks in algebra
classf I see her smug little smile in the back of the room. Latelyf her attacks
have escalated. Every night for a weekf she called my house and left a message on
the voicemailf saying that she had seen my dad at the mall making out with another
woman. My dad died eighteen months ago and she knows it. I can't fathom why anyone
would be so cruel. All yearf my best friend Ashley said I should go to Principal
Jenkins and tell him about what Savannah’s doing. She’s always encouraging me to
fight backf ‘for the sake of bullied kids everywheref’ as she puts it. Ashley has
been my number one supporter
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when it comes to hating Savannahf and I’m really grateful for her. The reason
Ashley is so tough is that another girl bullied her mercilesslyf and she quickly
learned to stand up for herself—and others—almost a little too much. Ashley can be
as sweet as an angelf but will rapidly turn into a demon if anyone mistreats those
she cares about. Last time Savannah pulled my hairf Ashley snuck behind her in the
lunch line and cut a chunk out of Savannah’s hair. Ashley proceeded to warn
Savannah that if she ever touched my hair againf she’d follow her to her house and
shave the rest of her hair off while she was sleeping. I laughed when I heard thatf
but then I got a little worried on Savannah’s behalff thinking that Ashley actually
might do it. Like Ashleyf I’m convinced that Savannah’s cruelty toward me has to
do with her ex-boyfriend asking me out. 6 Tyson has asked me out a few timesf but I
always decline. I don’t want to date himf since he’s made out with nearly half the
girls in our sc
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hoolf girls just like Savannah. Status seems important to Savannahf and she
certainly had that when she dated Tysonf the quarterback of our football team.
Savannah probably thought she could wrap him around her little finger and have him
swear fidelity to herf but he quickly lost interest and moved onf asking me—a
complete nobody— out instead. Right before the fightf Tyson approached me in the
hallway and I think he was going to ask me to the prom. I cut him off and fled as
fast as I could because 1. I absolutely don’t want to go with him and 2. I was
afraid Savannah would see us talking. Unfortunately she saw us and started
harassing me the second Tyson left. That’s when I lost it and now I’m here trying
to explain everything to my mom. “So I suppose tomorrow you’ll have a new best
friend?” My mom gets a look of pure amusement in her eyes. I thought she’d be
yelling at mef but somehowf her amusement and subdued tone frightens me more. “Is
that what will happen?” She takes a deep bre
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ath. “Yes.” I groan. I don’t want to be friends with or even associate with that
crazy girl. I was trying to get rid of her! “Savannah will come to you tomorrowf at
the very leastf and apologize for what she did. She’ll also feel compelled to make
it up to you and will try to become your best friend by doing anything you ask of
her for the rest of her life.” “What?” My stomach drops like I just swallowed three
gallons of sand. My mom nods. “She’ll become obsessed with youf stalking you day
and night. I’ve warned you to be careful and this is why. The closer you are to
your eighteenth birthdayf the stronger the effect of your saliva will have on
humans.” 7 Crap! “Why?” This sounds way worse than her bullying me because I can’t
think of anyone I hate more than Savannah. “I did this because I had just wanted
her to leave me alone.” “Unfortunatelyf that’s part of what’s called your flair.
If one isn’t careful and hasn’t been trained how to use it properlyf it will
backfire.” She smiles li
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ke she’s relishing in my pain. “Flair?” That’s the first time I’ve heard my mom use
that word. “I’ll tell you about it when you turn eighteenf” she says. That’s what
she always saysf and it drives me completely and totally insane. “Why not now?”
“Not today.” She presses her lips firmly together for a moment and then she saysf
“In lifef the test comes firstf the lesson later.” I swear it’s her favorite line.
But she’s not going to budge; my mom is as tight-lipped as they come. Clearlyf I
hadn’t thought this Savannah thing through. “You knew what I was doingf didn’t
you?” My mom’s eyebrows round upwards. “Of course I knew what you were doing. I’ve
been playing this game since the days of Adam and Eve.” She reaches her arm behind
my seatf glances backf and gracefully backs out of the school parking spot. “Haf
haf” I laugh sarcastically. She turns serious. “It will do you no good to disobey
my rulesf and I’m warning youf if you dof your disobedience will have dire
consequences.” “If yo
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u would just tell me why I am the way I amf and how I can control myselff then I’d
be happy to obeyf” I say. “I already told youf all this will be explained to you
when you turn eighteen.” Her voice is stern. I drop my hands into my lap. “Sorryf”
I say under my breath. “What was that?” 8 “Sorryf” I say a little louder. “Don’t
worryf sweetief you’ll learn in time.” She grows silent for a moment. “I wanted to
talk to you about this after graduationf but I think now is a better time.” She
pats me on the knee. “Yes?” I say. “It’s about your graduation present.” “Yes...?”
My mom has been planning my graduation present for some time. I have seen open tour
catalogs lying around the house and tourism websites left open on her laptopf and I
figure from those clues that my graduation gift has something to do with traveling.
She splashes the windshield with cleaner and turns the wipers onf causing the
splattered love-bugs to smear across the glass. Scoffingf she saysf “Stupid little
things. An
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ywayf we’re going to Minnesota together.” Her eyes beam with excitement. “Oh.” I
feel a huge scowl coming on. Somehow the thought of going to Minnesota doesn’t
excite me. At all. “Why Minnesota?” I’d rather stay here all summer and relax on
the beachf wellf if she’d actually let me do that. “There are things I’d like you
to see and people I’d like you to meet in Minnesotaf” she says. “Where—in—
Minnesota—exactly?” I try not to sound too upset. Things have been very emotional
since my dad passed away in a car accidentf and the last thing my mom needs is an
ungrateful daughter. I have enough sense to at least be sensitive to thatf though
the loss hasn’t been any easier on me either. Stillf I have a hard time hiding the
fact that I feel cheated—way cheated. Seriously. What could be more boring than a
graduation trip to Minnesota? My best friend Ashley’s going to Australiaf and even
the girl across the streetf who never has any funf gets to spend her summer in
Hawaii. “A small town called
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Kensington.” She turns on the blinker and takes a left at Bee Ridge Road. I haven’t
even heard of Kensingtonf but immediately 9 think that its name reeks of a farm
country where cows and goats outnumber the human population for sure. Any place on
earth sounds more exciting. Parisf Romef even Oslo or Orlando! “Theref you’ll meet
my sisters and you’ll officially be accepted into the Dynasty.” Excitement bounces
inside the curve of her lips and the center of her eyes. I shouldn’t say anythingf
but the words just come out all by themselves. “Accepted into the…Dynasty?” That’s
another new word I haven’t heard before. “Sounds—weirdf like there are a lot of
religious rituals or something.” My mom hasn’t really prepared me for those types
of eccentricities. I wonder if being accepted into the Dynasty has anything to do
with our unusual abilities. It must. “There you’ll learn how to appropriate what
you want from humansf” she says. “What do you mean by appropriate from humans?” A
mild panic a
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ttack looms insidef winding my emotions into a bundle of nervous energy. “Let’s
change the subject. I can’t talk to you about itf sweetief sorry.” I squeeze my
lips together. Is there something magical about turning eighteen? It’s not like I’m
going to be a different person a few weeks from now. “Can you at least tell me how
many sisters you have?” “I suppose that can’t hurt. I have three sisters.” I have
often wondered why I never met them. It’s as though my mom has kept them from mef
or me from them. I can’t tell which one. “Cool.” “We’ll be staying with them in
Minnesotaf and after we’ve been there for four weeks—” my mom says. “Four weeks!
What could we possibly be doing there for four weeks?” My summer is officially
ruined. “Shh…just listenf please. After four weeksf we’ll be traveling to an
invisible island just off the New Hampshire coast.” My mom pulls into our double
garage and turns the engine off. “It’s called Wraithsong Island.” 10 “Seriously?
Invisible?” I say sarcastic
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ally and laughf but soon stop when I can tell she’s just about had it with me.
Maybe I should try to not sound so disappointed. Everything will work outf besidesf
there are many more summers ahead that will be normal—I hope. Even that’s
questionable now. What will happen after my eighteenth birthday? Now I’m starting
to dread something I should be looking forward to. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“I’m telling you now.” She glides out of the SUV and crosses our lawn to the
mailbox. I suppose I can wait a few weeks for all this to be clarified. Not like I
have a choice. “Anything for me?” I askf seeing that she has a pile of mail in her
hands. My mom looks like she’s still in her mid-twenties. ‘Scandinavian genes’f
she always says when people ask her about her agef but I know it’s something else.
Her blonde hair reflects the sunf and her bright red lipstickf though faded since
this morningf is still striking. I pull my heavy backpack out of the SUV. “Yes—
looks like there’s an early
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birthday card here for you.” She holds the black envelope up and waves it. Black?
That’s a strange color for a birthday card. We enter our house through the garage
and go through the cozyf yellow laundry room to get to the kitchen. Shortly after
moving inf my dad created my mom’s dream kitchen— the last thing he did before he
died. He installed white and gray marble counter topsf white custom made cupboardsf
and all new stainless-steel appliances. The kitchen still brings back so many
memories of me working with my dad. He showed me how to hammer in a nailf how to
caulk and even how to connect the plumbing. I have dreams of my dad at nightf and
still wake up crying because I miss him so much. He was my best friendf always
theref patient and lovingf not yelling or threatening me to do something he wantedf
but waiting for me to make my own decisions. He would even respect my choice if I
made the wrong one. Wellf as long as it didn’t harm anyone elsef of 11 course. My
mom said that Dad
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was the first man she had fallen in love with. “No one had ever been right for me
before your fatherf” she always said. Every day I see the ever-lingering grief in
her eyes. Her despondent look appeared the day my dad’s life was taken from her.
“Can I fix you a snack?” She opens the cabinet containing the crackers and cereal
boxes. “Momf I’m almost eighteen. I can fix my own snack.” Since I’m an only childf
I think she overdoes it and pampers me too much. “But I like doing it for youf”
she says softly. I wonder how she manages to give so muchf when death robbed her of
one of the most important things in her life. I study the front of my black
birthday envelope. There’s no return address—only a smallf hand-drawnf
silver#metallic balloon on the front next to my name and address. The handwriting
looks like printed calligraphy and I see that the envelope came from New York City.
I start opening it. “Nof no.” She grabs it from me. “Not until your birthday.” “But
that’s not for another two
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weeks!” I say. “It’s bad luck to open any presents before your birthdayf and that
includes cards.” She stuffs the envelope in the kitchen island drawer. “I’ll make
you a turkey sandwichf how does that sound?” A smile tugs at my lips. “Sounds
delicious. I’m just going to put my stuff in my room.” I scamper through the
kitchenf take a left into the hallway with our lives pretty much plastered onto the
wall with picturesf “the hallway of memoriesf” as my mom calls itf pass the Jack
and Jill bathroom on my right and take a right into the small hallway that leads to
my bedroom. It is impeccable as usual: my dark cherry furniture is brightened by
red and yellow accents throughout. I pride myself in keeping my room cleanf but I
do have one weakness when it comes to cleanliness: I absolutely hate making my bed.
The only time I make it is when I know company is 12 comingf which isn’t often. I
usually spend most of my time on my bed when I’m in my room—when I sleepf when I
studyf when I chat on
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the phone with my best friend Ashley and when I immerse myself in reading my
favorite new book series—a Viking Blood Saga. I toss my backpack on to the bed and
head to the bathroom. My golden brown hairf or Goldilocks hair as my dad always
called itf looks tousledf like it’s been through a tornado. I remember Savannah
ruffling my hair before she threw her algebra binder in my face. Stupid Savannahf
but I can’t help but smile a little because even though I’m not looking forward to
meeting this new stalker-Savannahf I’m thrilled that the harassment will finally
stop. I undo my rowdy ponytail and my hair cascades down my back. I run a brush
through it a couple of dozen times and pile it on top of my head into a messy up-
do. “Your sandwich is ready!” my mom hollers from the kitchen. “Be right there!”
Arriving in the kitchenf I sit down at our kitchen table. I take a bite of my
sandwich and it tastes deliciousf as always. My mom sits down next to mef handing
me a tall glass of ice water.
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Beads of condensation trickle down the sides and it makes my mouth water. “So tell
me about this flairf” I say casually. “Not talking about it. Just trust mef Soniaf
will you?” Her face is harsh. I’m sick of her treating me like I can’t be trusted.
“You know what? Forget I ever brought it up. I think I’ll just go and do my
homework in my room.” I grab my sandwich and leave. Once in my roomf I pull my
algebra out first and when I’m done with thatf I start on history. There’s a subtle
knock at the door. “Come inf” I say. My mom opens the door and leans against the
doorframe. “I’m sorryf Sonia. I just wish you’d trust me a 13 little more. You’ll
understand so much more after you go to the Academy.” “Waitf I have to go to
school?” My eyebrows gather tightly above my eyes. “Yes. You have to learn about
all of this from somewheref” she says. “About whatf Mom? You won’t even tell me.
This is going to be the worst summer ever! I’m not going.” Fury wells up inside
when I think about how my mo
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m has kept all this information from me my whole life. I feel lied to. “Soniaf I’ll
leave it up to you to decide whether or not you want to go. I’m not going to force
youf but if you turn nineteen and decide not to enter the Dynastyf you’ll be on
your own.” She sounds very frustrated. “Why did you wait so long to tell me about
all this?” I try to sound reasonablef but insteadf there’s a whiney tone in my
voice. My mom takes a deep breath and then exhales. “Soniaf you’re acting like a
five-year-oldf and I expect more from you. Besidesf some things aren’t up to me.
The rule is that I’m not supposed to tell you anything until you turn eighteenf and
then you have a year to decide whether you want to go to the Academy or not. I’ve
already given you a head start.” I glance at her and then back down at my homework.
“I know I’m acting—not myselff sorry.” Usually I’m much better at controlling my
emotionsf but latelyf my emotions have the upper hand. She sits down on my bed
next to me and tak
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es my hand. “You don’t have to decide right this moment. Sleep on itf and we’ll
talk about it in a few daysf all right?” I puff. In realityf I’m afraid of the
future because I have so many questionsf yet so few answers and I feel like the
decisions I make over the next few months will alter my life forever. “I just—”
Suddenlyf my mom’s phone rings from the kitchen. “Hold that thought.” She runs out
to the kitchen and I soon 14 hear her talking on the phone to whoever is on the
other end of the line. Sitting alonef I wonder why there are so many secrets. My
friends don’t seem to have these types of secrets in their families. They all know
their extended families and live normal livesf or at least that’s how it seems.
“Kensingtonf” I say out loud as I try to imagine how my trip to the tiny town might
be. Then I think of Wraithsong Island off the coast of New Hampshire and figure
that my life will never be the same again. “Who was it?” I ask when my mom
returns. Her face is a pale gray.
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“It was my eldest sisterf” she says. “Something has happened to one of my other
sisters.” “What?” I say. She says tearfullyf “She’s vanished.” “How?” Having never
met my auntsf I have no real connection with themf but I can’t ignore her pained
expression. “It’s uncertain at this pointf but the police have been notified.”
“Maybe she just—ran awayf” I say. “Nof my sister would never run awayf especially
not when it’s so close to—” she lets her voice trail off. “Do you need to go visit
your family? I’ll be fine for a few days.” She rests her chin on her clenched fist.
“I’ll need to think about it.” “If you’re worried about leaving me—” I say. “Nof
it’s not that. If there were any sign of foul play involvedf I would be worried
about leaving youf but there isn’t.” “Even if there weref they’re thousands of
miles awayf” I say. “I knowf but you never know.” Her eyes get a worried look. “If
you need to leavef I’ll be fine. I can have Ashley stay with me for a few days.” 15
“I’ll think about
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it.” She stands upf her expression extremely worried. “I need to run an errand
right nowf if you don’t mind.” “Okayf I’ll just finish my homework. Will you be all
right?” I place my hand on her shoulder. “I don’t knowf but this might change
everything.” She walks out of my room before I’m able to ask another question.
After my mom leavesf I think about what she said earlier. I have something called
flairf and that has something to do with my ability to control people. After todayf
I’m certain that if used inappropriatelyf this ability can cause a lot of damage to
others and myselff and though I want to understand itf my mom’s definitely not
going to tell me. I’ll just have to be more careful while I wait. My summer looks a
bit bleakf and just to make my last few weeks of school miserablef I’ll be pulling
up weeds with a complete stranger. Anthony’s probably a mean old guy who has green
thumbs and fingers and toesf and spends all his free time conversing with
shrubbery. Chapter 2 Str
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olling down the larger of the two aisles in the school’s greenhousef I study the
plethora of flowerless plants while I wait for Anthony to arrive. He’s late and I
hate it when people are late. I can’t think of anything more annoying or
disrespectful. My fingers grace the tips of some dark green leaves. How can anyone
tell the difference between these plants? They all look the same to me. I pull off
my button-up shirtf preparing to weed. Today turned out quite satisfactory for mef
though kind of creepy. My mom was right about the fact that Savannah would come and
apologize to mef but what I hadn’t 16 expected was how apologetic she’d actually
be. I laugh to myself as I remember what happened. “Soniaf I’m so very sorry about
yesterdayf” Savannah saidf approaching my old beat-upf still garlic-reeking locker.
“And all the other timesf I just feel horrible. I don’t know what came over mef and
I don’t even remember why I’ve been so rude to you all year. You’re one of the
sweetestf most beau
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tiful girls in school and all I can figure is that I was extremely jealous of you.
Will you forgive me— please?” “Suref Savannahf I’ll forgive you. No worries.” I
started to step awayf smilingf feeling like I was walking on air. Savannah moved
in front of mef clenching my hands in hers. “I’ve also told Principal Jenkins that
it was all my fault. I…I hope that was okay with youf” she saidf her eyes sincere
and pleading. “Ohf all rightf good.” “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
Savannah asked. “Nof not that I can think off” I said as I pulled my hands out of
her grasp and started to walk away. “Wellf if there is anything I can dof you’d
tell mef right?” Savannah followed me down the hallwayf causing many of the other
students to stop and stare. It was embarrassing. “Yesf of coursef” I saidf
thinking that this new Savannah was almost worse than the old mean one. I finally
got rid of her when I went to my social studies classf but at lunchf Savannah
approached me again. “Please
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let me buy you lunchf” Savannah said in the food line. “And can I sit by you?” Her
request filled with desperation for my approval. “Please? I’d be honored.” I tried
to stifle a laugh and Ashley became speechless— something I thought was impossible.
“What did you do to Savannah?” Ashley askedf once we had successfully dumped her.
“I don’t know. Maybe Principal Jenkins talked to her or 17 somethingf” I saidf
shrugging my shoulders. What was there to say anyway? I’ve never told Ashley about
my strange abilitiesf mainly because I don’t want my friends to think I’m a freakf
which I kind of am. “Heyf your highlights look amazing by the wayf” I saidf trying
to distract her. Usually her hair is dark brownf but nowf sun-kissedf it brought
out the golden hue in her hazel eyes. By the last periodf Savannahf almost stalker-
esquef annoyed me. “Can I help carry your backpack?” she asked mef popping out of
nowhere. “I bought you some chocolatef but then I realized that I didn’t know what
your fav
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orite brand was so I picked out a few.” “The best thing you can do is to just
ignore mef okay?” I snapped. Immediately after I said itf I felt bad. “I’m sorry. I
just would like for you to go live your life and be happy. I’m not mad at youf I
promise.” “Okayf I’ll ignore you until you say so—no problem.” Savannah walked
offf her eyes pining after me. I laugh a little again at the memoryf though deep
insidef I wish I had handled it better. I don’t want to be meanf not even to
Savannahf though it did feel really good getting back at her for how nasty she’s
been to me. Bushes and short trees line the center of the glasshouse. Flowers and
smaller plants run along the outer edges and sit in wood containers on top of
wooden risers. It smells of mustyf old earthf and the glass walls and ceiling
haven’t been cleaned in decades. I’m still annoyed that I have to fulfill my
punishmentf even though Savannah went and explained to Principal Jenkins that it
was all her fault. I wonder if my mom has
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something to do with it. Then a thought flashes through my mind. Maybe I could
get Savannah to take this punishment for me. No one needs to knowf and I’m sure
Savannah wouldn’t tell a soul and would be thrilled to do me a favor. It would also
help me feel a whole lot better about all the mean things she has done to me in the
past. The greenhouse is hot and humidf but I never sweat. 18 I’m glad I have never
needed to worry about deodorants or smelling fresh. Then againf I wonder if me not
sweating has something to do with being different. Come to think of itf there are
many little oddities like that that make me abnormal. One of those things is that I
have these silver transparent markings on my back. I always thought they were just
birthmarks or stretch marksf but now I wonder if they also have something to do
with my other unusual abilities. I reach for and touch the top of my backf fearing
that I might be a lot more different than what I had initially thought. “Are you
Sonia?” I
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hear a deep voice ask from behind me. I turn toward the young man who startled me.
His light blue eyes immediately catch my attention. They are intensef yet kindf and
his gaze stuns me so much that I forget to breathe. “Yesf” I sayf taken abackf
holding my hand out so he can shake it. Then I realize he’s carrying two large
terra cotta potsf one in each arm. “Sorry.” My face warms and then butterflies
flutter in my stomach. Guys don’t usually have this effect on me—actuallyf no guy
ever has had this sort of effect on me. There’s something distinctly different
about himf and his narrow eyes and deep voice draw me in. I wonder why I’ve never
met him before. He’s around my agef so surely he must be a junior or a seniorf and
even if he graduated last yearf I would definitely have noticed him— and all the
other girls in school for that matter. For a momentf I struggle to find something
intelligent to say. He sets the pots down onto the groundf his forearms muscular
and tan. “No problemf I
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’m Anthony.” He wipes his dirt-covered hands on his faded jeans and shakes my hand.
“I hear you’ll be helping me over the next ten days for an hour a day?” He runs his
fingers through his blondf wavy hair. “Uh…yesf that would be mef” I sayf hoping he
doesn’t know exactly why I’ve been sent to help him. That would be 19 embarrassing.
Anthony cocks his head to the sidef his eyes scanning my face as if he’s trying to
read me. “You don’t seem like a rebel.” I cringe inwardly. “What do you mean?” I
askf even though I know exactly what he meansf and from his commentf I suspect that
he knows what I did to get sentenced to work here. “I’ll spare youf” he says with a
smile. “Let’s get startedf shall we? Follow me.” Anthony heads toward the exit of
the greenhouse. I’ll spare you? His statement is rather rudef even though he said
it in the sweetest way. Walking behind himf I can’t help but check him out. I laugh
silently at myself because I neverf ever check guys out. Ashley thinks there’s some
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thing wrong with mef but I just chalk it up to never having met the right guy.
Anthony’s loose jeans cover what I think looks like strong legs and a firm behindf
and his white and red Liverpool t-shirt hugs his chest and broad shoulders. “Did
Principal Jenkins tell you what you’d be doing today?” Anthony asks without turning
around to look at me. “Yesf of coursef” I sayf slightly annoyedf and definitely not
wanting to discuss anything about the humiliating meeting with someone I just met.
“Wellf you’re not dressed suitably for weedingf” he saysf almost mockingly.
Immediately on the defensivef I sayf “Why do you say that?” I think I’ve done an
excellent job in choosing a comfortable and appropriate ensemble to do all the
dirty work in: jean shorts and a tank top. With an abrupt motionf Anthony swivels
around and comes closer. “You’ll be crawling a lotf so you’ll want long pants made
of thin cotton or linen. If you wear shortsf” he eyes my shorts and almost frownsf
“the bugs are going
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to eat you alive and the skin on your knees will become all scuffed up. Do you have
a sun hat? Or sun screen?” “No.” I wouldn’t need either. 20 “And you’re going to
get sunburned.” He rolls his eyes. He’s making me upset. “No I’m not. I never
burnf” I say dryly. He grabs my armf startling me againf and examines it. “Ouchf
you’re hurting me!” “You’re as pale as an albinof” he sneers. “I adapt well to
the…sun.” I pull my arm back forcefully. Who does this guy think he is? He seems
like a gardener from hell. Anthony opens the squeaky glass door. “If you’d likef
you can start tomorrow when you have the appropriate attire.” He walks out and the
door slams shut behind him. I’m ticked off that he doesn’t even show me the decency
of holding the door open for me. Flinging the door openf I follow after him. “No.”
I march up behind him. “I’ll be fine and I want to start today.” So I can get it
over with as quickly as possible. Anthony picks up a few rusty gardening tools.
“Suit yourself.” He c
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ontinues across the large grass field behind the schoolf and then skirts around to
the building’s northern brick wall. It’s difficult keeping up with his fast pace.
“Do you always run to your destinations?” I breathe heavily. “I’m not running. I’m
just in a hurry to get this done so I can catch my soccer game.” “Soccer?” “Yeahf
you know where they kick the ball with their feet and—” I interrupt him. “I know
what soccer is.” Why is he acting so condescending toward me? I just met him and
I’ve been nothing but nice. I can’t see his facef but I get the feeling he’s
rolling his eyes at me. “Many girls your type don’tf and I doubt you really know
anything about the sportf” he saysf still moving at an unusually fast pace. “You
never walk alone!” I shout. Anthony stops dead in his tracksf swivels around and 21
glares at me with a frown. “What did you say?” “You never walk alonef” I repeatf my
hands hitting my hipsf smiling because I know that will get his attention. ‘You
never walk alone’
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is Liverpool Football Club’s slogan. “How did you know that?” Although shockedf a
shadow of a smile emerges on his lips. I’m proud that I actually know something
about soccerf and that judging from the shirt he’s wearingf Liverpool is probably
about Anthony’s favorite team. “My dad’s favorite soccer team was Liverpool.” He
narrows his eyes and steps in my direction. His presence is dauntingf leaving me
suddenly breathlessf so I lean back a little. “Doesn’t he support them anymore?”
he asks. “Why would you think that?” My defenses are at their peak. He can mess
with mef but not my dad. “You said ‘wasf’ right?” “Oh.” I don’t really want to
share with Anthony the details of my lifef especially since he’s been acting like
an idiotf but I decide to answer anyway. “Nof my dad passed away about a year and a
half ago.” I try not to get emotional. That would be the most awkward thing to have
happenf and I don’t want to give Anthony any more reasons to think less of me. His
firm expression m
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elts into a compassionate one. “I’m sorry to hear that.” His brow wrinkles and he
starts walking again at a slower pace. “It’s okayf I’m almost used to it nowf” I
say in an attempt to snap him out of his melancholic mood. His mood swings are
exhausting to keep up withf and I have barely even spent fifteen minutes with him.
“That’s what you think you ought to sayf isn’t it? That’s what I used to say for a
long time toof” Anthony says. “Did your dad dief too?” I regret that I judged him
so harshly. “Nof” Anthony says. Now I’m thoroughly confused. First Anthony seems 22
kindf then rudef then he’s a complete jerkf and now he’s relating to me without
having something to even relate to? No wonder I’ve never met him before—Principal
Jenkins probably keeps Anthony locked up in the greenhouse so he can keep him away
from good students and use him to punish students who have strayed from the
straight and narrow. As we come around the corner to the western side of the
buildingf the sun blinds u
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s. “My father abandoned my mother when I was young.” Anthony’s voice softens
considerably. Fluctuating between defensiveness and guiltf I feel like I’m on a
rollercoaster ride. “I’m sorryf I guess it’s kind of the same as my dad.” I hold my
arm up to block the sun. He cracks a sideways smile. “Kind of.” He looks so much
more approachable with a smile on his facef and something draws me to him when he
smiles. “Sof are you a senior?” I ask. “Yes.” “I thought I knew all the seniors at
Sarasota High.” I scratch my head. “Apparently notf” he says. I don’t like how
vague he’s being especially since there’s so much vagueness in my life already.
That’s one of the reasons I like Ashley so much. She always speaks her mind so I
know where I am with herf but with Anthonyf it’s as if he’s trying to dodge every
question I askf and vagueness coupled with the few rude remarks he’s been throwing
at mef makes me not want to be around him. We stop in front of the school. “This is
where all the weeds are
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.” He gestures to the entire front side of the red brick building. Four royal palm
trees stand on either side of the oak front doorsf and plants that looks like weeds
blanket the beds below them. “The weeds go on for miles!” I say—exaggerating—but
only slightly. “It’s going to take way more than ten hours to get rid of them all.”
I hadn’t noticed how overgrown the 23 front of the school actually looksf as I
always park and enter in the back. “Wellf you’re more than welcome to work for
more than ten hours. Do you know which ones are the weeds and which ones aren’t?”
he asks. I make an apologetic face. “Not reallyf they all look like weeds to me.”
Anthony laughsf shaking his headf his blond hair catching the afternoon sunlight.
“So I guess I’ll need to teach you the difference between weeds and flowers.” “Yesf
definitelyf or you can just tell Principal Jenkins that I’m a complete waste of
time and that it would be best if I didn’t weed with you.” “Haf haf haf” he says
sarcastically. “N
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ice tryf but we need these weeds out by the end of the yearf and it’s your duty
nowf too.” I frownf the burden of responsibility descending on my narrow shoulders.
I could always get Savannah to take over for mef but something tells me that I want
to spend some one-on-one time with Anthonyf at least until I have him figured out a
little more. * * * I get home at 6:56 p.m.f nearly two and a half hours after
school ended. As soon as I begin a projectf I can’t stop —I hate leaving any
project unfinished—but after Anthony left at 5:30 p.m.f I lost my motivation to
continue. I figure it will take me at least ten moref three-and-a-half hour days if
I am to complete the project with Anthony’s help. Stillf I don’t know if it will be
worth my time because Anthony doesn’t seem interested in getting to know me at all.
He weeded on the opposite side of the school as me evenf making conversation with
him impossible. The only communication between us after we started weeding was to
exchange phone nu
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mbers. “Just in case I need to reach you in an emergencyf” he 24 said and then he
ran off to soccer practice. My mom’s SUV stands in the garage when I get home. I
park my dad’s silver Jetta in the drivewayf unlock the stained glass front door and
take a left into my room. Anthony was right about a few things; my knees feel raw
from all the digging and crawling; and though my skin didn’t burn from the sun—he
was wrong about that—it would have been nice to have a wide-brimmed hat to keep the
scorching sun out of my eyes. “Mom?” I yell as I head for the kitchen. “I’m in
heref” she yells from her bedroom. I adjust my course and walk through the living
room into the master bedroom. Sitting down on the king-sized four-post bedf I sigh.
“How was your day?” Heaps of neatly folded clothes stand in piles on top of the
ocean blue duvet. “Ohf just fine.” She folds a towel. “What about you? You look
exhausted.” I lean backf letting myself fall into the soft bed. “I’m exhausted—and
look at my k
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nees.” I lift one knee up and reveal the scratches and bruises on it and after that
show her my blistered hands. “Looks like you worked hard today.” She moves on to
matching the socks up. “If you keep this pace upf you’ll be done with your
commitment in no time.” She smiles. “Well…I might just stick with it until the job
is finishedf” I mumble. “Really? I thought you said you had too much homework and
that you have to study for your finals.” “I dof but I’ll be careful to manage my
time so I can get it all done. Besidesf it’s nice to be able to contribute to my
schoolf right?” I can tell that she isn’t quite buying into my story. “Is there
something you’re not telling me?” One eyebrow arches way up to her forehead. “Nof”
I sayf because there is truly nothing to tell—yet —at least not when it comes to
Anthony. For as long as I can rememberf my parents have forbidden me from having a
25 boyfriend and warned me that if I brought a boy home they would tell him about
my special gifts. That’
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s the one thing they have really been strict about—no boysf ever. I don’t want
anyone to know that I’m differentf of course. I want to fit in at school and not
look like a freak among my peers. Thankfullyf I haven’t liked anyone enough to
bring them to my house anyway. “The reason you’re not allowed to kiss anyone before
you turn eighteenf” my dad said once I asked him about itf “is that you’ll never
get rid of him and if you’re not one hundred and ten percent sure about whether or
not you want the guy around for eternityf don’t kiss him. He’ll follow you to the
ends of the earthf and you’ll be sorry.” I believed him then and I believe him now.
“I promisef if there was something to tellf I’d let you know right awayf” I say. At
least I think I would. Chapter 3 By Fridayf I’ve worked five days with Anthonyf and
I still haven’t been able to figure him out. Most guys would have suggested that we
hang out or something by nowf but Anthony seems to not be interested in me at all.
In factf he
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seems to be repulsed by mef and this rejection is quite a strange experience. The
thought that he might be gay briefly crosses my mindf but I quickly abandon that
thought when he tells me that he asked another senior—a female—to the prom. “Are
you going to the prom?” he asks. “No.” I pull on another weedf but curse when the
gnarly root remains embedded in the black soil. A few boys have asked mef but my
mom forbid me to gof so I had to (not so) regretfully decline. It’s just as well
anywayf for if I go to the promf most of my friends will probably steal away to
make 26 outf or rent a hotel roomf and I won’t be doing any of that. I don’t like
any of the guys at school enough to want to have them eternally bound to mef
especially not after seeing how Savannah acted toward me when I used my flair on
her. “What’s wrong?” Anthony asks. His deep voice brings me back to the present.
“Nothingf just these roots are being so…difficult!” I plop down into the grass and
huff. “Of coursef it’s th
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eir job to be.” That’s a strange reply. “My hands hurtf my knees hurtf and I’m
getting behind on my homework.” “No one’s forcing you to do thisf you know. And why
don’t you wear gardening gloves? That would save your hands a lot of painf” Anthony
says. I frown. “I know no one’s forcing me to do this. You don’t have to state the
obvious all the time. And my hands can’t grab these stupid roots when I wear
gloves.” Why does he care about my hands anyway? I walk over to my water bottle and
take a few sips. Glancing over at himf I see the muscles in his back flex as he
pulls out the weedsf and at that my heart starts beating faster. If I’m truly
honest with myselff what I’m really upset about is that Anthony is pretty much just
ignoring mef and it’s driving me crazy. “So why are you doing this? You’ve already
put in the ten hours Principal Jenkins told you that you have to.” Anthony wipes
the dirt off his face with the front of his shirtf revealing his six-pack. His
abdomen is as tan as hi
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s forearms so I conclude that he must play soccer—shirtless. I force myself not to
let my eyes linger. “I just hate leaving a job unfinishedf” I sayf but againf
that’s not the real reason. “Why are you here? You never told me your story of how
you got stuck in the greenhouse in the first place.” Anthony smilesf his pearly
teeth are extra white against his skin. “I just moved here about a month ago and
needed to earn some extra credit so I could graduate on timef” he says. “I worked
out a deal with Principal Jenkins.” That’s why I haven’t seen him before. Most of
the other 27 girls in school must know about himf but since Ashley and I are
somewhat outsidersf I’ve never been introduced to Anthony. “So where did you move
from?” I’m pleased that we’re having a conversation that sounds like an
actual...well…conversation. “From Norway. My mother worked there for a yearf but
then got transferred to Sarasota.” I think back to a discussion I had with my momf
and how she said she used to live in
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Norway when she was younger. “My mom lived in Norway before I was born.” I kick a
root in the groundf trying to loosen it. “Reallyf where?” He strains as he pulls at
another root. “Somewhere on the west coastf” I sayf not remembering the name of the
city. “We stayed in Asker. It’s about a thirty minute drive south of their
Capitolf Oslo.” Anthony pushes me gently aside and lifts the root up as if it’s
nothing. Really? I hufff figuring I probably loosened it for him. “Did you like it
there?” “Sure. The people there are down to earthf and their heritage is amazing. I
became fascinated by the Vikings and did a lot of research on their mythology and
folklore.” “I love Viking mythology.” I pull on the next weed. “My mom studied
Norse mythology and most recentlyf she told me there is something called a Huldra.
It’s interesting how all people think a Huldra is nothing but a woman who is
obsessed with seducing men.” I think I see Anthony’s jaw drop from the corner of my
eye. Maybe I shouldn’
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t have brought the Huldra up; it is a rather intense subjectf but I like his
reaction more than I want to admit. “Most people have no clue when it comes to
Norse mythologyf” he says angrily and stands up. “We’re done for today.” “But we
just startedf” I protest. Was what I said that offensive? For a moment I want to
use my flair on him so I can control himf but it would be wrong. And would I want
him to follow me around…forever? Uh…no. He’s too 28 moody. “I forgot that I have
somewhere I have to be. Have a good weekend.” Then he jogs all the way back to the
greenhousef leaving me to the rest of the work. Forget this! I’m not going to waste
my time heref weeding on a Friday night—alone. Anthony gets upset about everything
I say and annoyed by everything I do. I’m done weeding. I’ve put in my ten hoursf
and I’m finished. I want to be around people who understand me and who make sense.
I text Ashley: Want to go see a movie? Ashley’s quick to reply: Sure! How about
the new zombie movie
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that just came out? I loathe anything to do with zombiesf but the action might
help me take my mind off moody Anthony. What time and theatre? I type back. After
about three minutes Ashley’s reply comes. 7:30 p. m.f Sarasota Square Mall. Back
homef I shower and finish some of my homework before heading out. “I’ll be back
around 10:30f Mom!” I holler on my way out the doorf shutting it before I hear her
reply. Hopping into the carf I catch a whiff of a familiarf heavenly scent. I love
how my dad’s cologne still lingers in the seats of the vehicle and how it makes me
feel safef like he’s still part of my life. He used to drive me everywheref and it
was our time to talk about everything and nothing. I especially miss him on
weekends when we used to go to the 29 beach together or go hiking or camping. He
loved nature and wildlife in generalf and I could tell that being outside enlivened
his soul. I turn on the engine and I’m surprised by the sudden sound of my mom
knocking on the car
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window. “Don’t forget your phonef” she saysf handing it to me. “You left it in the
kitchen.” “Thanks.” I grab it and put it in my yellow bag. I really need to clean
it out. I carry make-upf my walletf a mirrorf three adhesive bandages and
antibiotic ointment—just in case I need them—a toothbrush and toothpastef a travel-
size hairbrush and gum. I never throw away any receiptsf and they are starting to
take over the entire purse. Tomorrow I’ll get it donef I promise myself. “Have funf
and say ‘hi’ to Ashley for me.” My mom looks thinner than usualf or maybe it’s just
the way the rays from the setting sun hit her facef making her cheeks look hollow
and the circles under her eyes darker. “Sure.” I roll up the windowf pausef and
then roll it back down again. “You should go out…have some fun toof Mom.” She
smiles. “Don’t worry about mef Sonia. When I’m ready tof I will.” Maybe I haven’t
been sensitive enough to her needs since my dad passed away. We never really speak
about his death and the
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pain it has causedf we have only talked about the good memories we shared when he
was alive. I really want to speak to her about the pain and how to get over it
before it turns into a wound that can never be healed. “Gof or you’ll be latef” she
saysf waving her hand. I smilef wave backf and pull out of the driveway. * * *
“Well that was a complete waste of moneyf” Ashley saysf as we stroll out of the
theatre with the others. The auditorium was only about ten percent filledf and that
30 should have been a clear sign that this movie would be a dud. “Agreedf” I sayf
turning my phone back on. A text message pops up on my screen: Sorry about leaving
so abruptly todayf but I needed to take care of something important. Hope you’ll
still weed with me on Monday. Anthony. My heart pauses for half a heartbeatf but
though I appreciate the apologyf I’m still angry with him. Can one feel angry and
intrigued at the same time? “What?” Ashley asksf peeking over to read the text.
“Who’s Anthony?” “H
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e’s the guy I weed withf” I say. “I meanf you know last week when I told you I was
sent to Principal Jenkins’s office and was sentenced to ten hours of school
service?” “Yes…?” “Wellf the guy who works in the greenhouse is Anthony.” “Is he
kind?” It’s always Ashley’s first question when I bring up a guy she hasn’t metf
and the second question isf “Is he hot?” I laugh nervouslyf hoping she won’t pick
up on it and we head into the ladies room. “He’s…nice—maybef I don’t know him too
well yetf” I say. Should I tell her what I really think? Yes. “And he’s not bad to
look at.” But that’s not why I like him. There’s something special about him that I
just can’t put my finger on. Ashley grinsf her thick lips broadening with a smile.
“Is he a senior?” “Yesf he just recently moved here.” We stop by the mirror and I
pull my lip-gloss out and apply some. I watch Ashley brush her thickf long hair.
She has a broad forehead and is slightly curvy in a very feminine way. “You’ll have
to introduce me.”
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She gathers her hair into a ponytail and makes a sexy face into the mirror. 31 I
laugh. “He’s kind of moodyf but if you want himf he’s all yours.” I regret saying
it right away. The thought of Ashley and Anthony dating doesn’t sit well with me
for some reason. “That’s not what I meant. I want to meet the boy who hasn’t even
asked you out yet after having known you for more than half a minute. Most guys
would have tried to marry you by now if you gave them any attention.” “Don’t be
ridiculousf” I scoff. “Okayf but it’s almost truef” she saysf as though there could
be no argument. “Wellf this guy has been ignoring me completelyf at least until
this last text.” I pull my phone out again and at that moment another text pops up.
Want to get some lunch tomorrow? –A I think about forgiving him and then decide
it’s worth itf at least for nowf until I get to know him better. I show the text to
Ashley. “I’m telling youf I want to meet him. Does he have a date to the prom yet?”
she asks. I groan
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. “Yesf doesn’t everybody?” It’s only about a week until the prom. “He probably
asked her before he met youf though.” “Nof he asked her on Thursdayf but I can’t go
to the prom anywayf so it doesn’t matterf” I mope. Ashley pulls out some pressed
powder and applies it to her face. “I don’t get your mom. She’s so strict. I meanf
who doesn’t let their daughter go to the prom?” She has that look on her face when
she’s extremely upset about somethingf which is about fifty percent of the time.
“It’s more complicated than thatf” I sayf wishing I could reveal more of my
oddities to herf and wishing I could tell her everything about mef but I just don’t
feel it’s the right thing to dof at least not until I know what it is that makes me
so different. 32 “Really? How complicated could it be? I meanf I want to respect
your mom’s decision and allf but you’ve got to be able to have some fun in life.
She doesn’t let you go swimming at the beachf or have sleep-oversf or…” I interrupt
her. “I knowf it s
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ucksf but it’s just how it is.” I’m not going to try to explain it awayf for no
sane reason would be good enough. “My parents have always been overprotective of
me.” “I’d understand it if it was a religious decision or somethingf but just
because they want to protect you? Like from what? It doesn’t make sense.” “Can we
just drop it please? There’s nothing I can do about it and now you’re actually
making me want to go to the stupid prom.” Ashley gives me a really? look. “Please…”
I say. “Finef but I’ll miss you.” She poutsf then suddenly her eyes widen. “Heyf I
have an idea! Can’t you just go without a date?” She has this sneaky way of
bringing up the subjects I don’t want to talk about again. I fall for it every
time. “What? So I can be everyone’s third wheel?” I really don’t want to be the
third wheel. “There are a bunch of guys and girls going stag. I hear it’s the new
in-thing.” “Seriously?” I haven’t considered going stagf but my mom just might let
me go if I go alonef and promise
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to not get involved with anyone in any wayf and come home at a decent hour. “Sue is
also thinking about going solo. I’ll let her know that you’re going and you can
join our groupf” Ashley says. “That makes it seem like I’m her date.” I shake my
head. “There are a few others who also want to go stag. I’ll talk to them and see
if we can’t plan something.” That sounds a little betterf I think. “I’ll need a
dress.” “The dress is the easiest thing to get. I’ll go with you tomorrow—after
your lunch date with hot Anthony.” She 33 smiles playfully. I laugh. “It’s not a
date—just lunch.” “Yeahf sure it isf” Ashley says. I text Anthony back. Suref just
let me know the time and place - Sonia Ashley and I go out and get a bite to eatf
and before I know itf it’s 11:00 p.m. I say good-bye to her and head home. Chapter
4 When I get homef the only light turned on in the entire house is the light above
my mom’s head in the kitchen. She’s sitting at the table with a letter in her handf
looking unusual
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ly palef the muscles in her face—limp. “Are you okay?” I say. She doesn’t respondf
she just sits as still as a statue and gazes out into the airf staring at nothing.
“Mom?” I say a little louder this timef placing my hand on her shoulder. She moves
her head toward mef but doesn’t look at me. Her cheeks glisten with tears. “What’s
wrong?” I crouch down beside her. Finallyf she notices me and sniffles. “Three of
the young Huldras have been murdered.” “Huldras?” “That’s what our kind is calledf
sweetief” she says. “That’s why we’re different.” “Our kind?” I’m totally confused.
These beings aren’t supposed to exist—they’re just creatures of mankind’s
imagination—mythological creatures. “What happened?” “They’re not sure. They found
them—they were killed 34 separately—shot to death—but were taken—” She doesn’t
complete the sentencef but instead looks me squarely in the eyes. “I need to talk
to you.” “Okayf I’m heref” I say. Her eyes narrow. “This is important. You must
promise me that yo
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u won’t use your flair on anyonef you hear?” Her voice trembles. “All right.” I
want to ask why notf but it’s definitely not the appropriate moment. “Someone out
there is after us. Someone is out to destroy our kindf and if we reveal ourselves
by using our flairf we could be the next ones killed.” I take a moment to digest
that. “Okayf I just want to clarify. Our kind is—you’re saying we’re…Huldras?” She
nods slowly as she grabs a tissue and dries the tears from her eyes. “Promise me
you won’t tell a soul.” “This is crazyf” I say. “It’s the truth—swear to me you
won’t tell a soul!” She grabs my wrist and pulls me in close just a couple of
inches away from her face. “If what you’re saying is true…” “What I am saying is
truef Sonia. Just promise me you won’t use your flair!” my mom yells and slams her
palm into the table with a loud bang. The noise frightens me and I jump. “I
promisef” I wince. At my wordsf she relaxes a little. “It’s late and I need to get
some rest.” “Okay.” A milli
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on questions crowd my mind. “I’m sorry about—” I don’t even know what to say so I
stop talking. “I knowf sweetheart—thank you.” She cups my face with her handf then
grabs my headf pulling it closer to herf and kisses me on the forehead. She stands
up and goes to the master bedroomf locking the door behind her. I’m in shock. She
says I’m a Huldra. She’s a Huldra. Can I believe it? I don’t know; all I know is
that this is so outrageous I can’t 35 wrap my mind around it. I hurry to my room
and flip open my laptop to do a search on Huldras. There are a lot of results that
come up. The first website reads: Huldras have been around since the days of Adam
and Eve. Huldras have many advantages over humansf the main advantage being that
they can control humans in many subtle and ingenious ways. Is that what my mom
meant by saying she’s been playing this game of manipulation since the days of Adam
and Eve? But surely she isn’t that old? I scroll down the page and continue to
read. Another adva
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ntage Huldras have is that nearly all humans don’t believe they exist. A human
doesn’t even know that they are being controlledf because they don’t know that they
can be controlled. Huldras hide their identities from humans exceptionally well.
Not only thatf but a Huldra never gives away her own kind. Now I understand a bit
more about why my mom is so secretive about it. I click into another website and
see a drawing of a forest maiden that has longf blonde hairf is dressed in sheer
white fabricf revealing cleavage and lots of leg. Most stories of the Huldras tell
of the way they can mesmerize and seduce any manf no matter how faithful he is to
his wife or lover. Howeverf what all the stories leave out is that Huldras can
control anyonef both male and female. The secret isn’t only in a Huldra’s beautyf
though a Huldra is always stunningly beautifulf but the secret is in her flair— or
in other wordsf in the combination of her beautyf her salivaf and in all the
virtues and character tr
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aits she has appropriated from humans. Though it has been said that 36 Huldras are
on earth to do goodf don’t let them fool you. Huldras are only after two things:
Control and appropriations. Appropriated from humans—that sounds really sinister.
Of coursef I already knew about the saliva partf but I don’t yet know how to use it
to my advantage—only to my detriment. I wonder if these sites are accurate or notf
and who would know about Huldras to write about them? The websites do state that
this is just folklore and Norse Mythologyf not reality. I click on another linkf
but discover nothing really important. I click on a few moref but my well of
information has run dry. Then I click on one moref just in case it might contain
more valuable information. It does. When a Huldra turns eighteenf that’s when her
powers fully develop and she learns how to use them. It is a second birthf a new
beginningf a time full of magical transformations. It is also a very dangerous
timef in which the Huldra
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can lose control of her urgesf destroying herself and the humans she comes in
contact withf unless she is guided in the right direction. If this website even has
an ounce of truth to itf this information explains why I’ve acted so rashly lately.
I click into a few more websitesf but there isn’t really any valuable information
to findf or at leastf anything that sounds even remotely credible. I lay my head on
my pillow and think about what my mom told me and what I just read. Appropriations?
Second birth? Magical transformations? Dangerous time? My life is about to change
completely. The thought frightens me; yetf it excites me like nothing else has ever
excited me. And as irrational as it sounds thoughf I feel comfort in finally being
given a name—Huldra. 37 Chapter 5 The next morningf my mom has already left the
house when I get up. Usually she goes to Detweiler’s Fresh Market to purchase
produce for the weekf and I catch up on my homework. But not today. Todayf I’m
meeting Anthony f
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or lunchf so I hop in the shower. In the showerf when my skin comes in contact with
waterf the familiar pricking sensation spreads across my back. I reach behind to my
back and the transparent markings swell just a tad. The websites hadn’t mentioned
anything about these patternsf but I’m dying to find out what their purpose is—if
any. I towel dry and pick out a pair of skinny jeansf a peach satin top and my gold
wedges. I curl my hair and apply a little more make-up than usual. Of all the
places Anthony can choose to go to lunchf he picks his house. I’m not sure what to
expectf but I know I don’t want to meet his mother. Being thrown up onto a stage
where I have to perform and be judged is the last thing in the world I want to do
right nowf or ever. I lock the door to the house and drive east. Pulling into the
Founders Clubf I stop at the wide double gates. Founders Club is known as the
multi#millionaire luxury subdivisionf and I’ve never been insidef only driven by
the front gates. “
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Where tof Miss?” the guard asks. His russet guard uniform blends in with the stucco
guard tower. “Uhf Mr. Anthony’s housef” I sayf now realizing I don’t know Anthony’s
last name. I text him quicklyf hoping he’ll reply before the guard figures out that
there is no Mr. Anthony or before he sends me to some stranger’s house. The text
comes back. My surname is Jensen and the address is: 10849 “Sir?” I sayf leaning
out the window. “Sorryf I meant 38 the Jensen residence. My name is Sonia
Fredriksen.” “Ahf yesf Maureen phoned in and said she was expecting youf” the guard
says. I nod. Maureen must be Anthony’s mom and the thought makes me suddenly
uneasy. Maybe I should call Anthony back and say I’ve fallen ill. I don’t want to
have lunch with Anthony’s mom there because it would just be plain awkward.
“Thanks.” I drive in through the gates. There’s a large brick-paved roundabout and
in the center stands a handful of Washington palmsf surrounded by yellow and blue
flowers that I don’t know t
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he names of. I steer my car around the bend and take the road to the left. Numerous
oak trees covered with Spanish moss grow on the golf course to the rightf and a
small river runs underneath the bridge ahead. “Number 10849f” I say out loudf
stopping at a huge white stucco house and peer out my window. Dark grey ceramic
tiles line the rooftop and a red-bricked driveway leads into the three-car garage.
A small red BMW stands parked in the driveway and I wonder if it’s Anthony’sf
realizing I’ve never seen his car. Parking my carf I get out of the car and step up
to the entrance doors inlaid with burgundy glass. I don’t even ring the doorbell
before a maid opens the door for me. “Welcomef Miss Fredriksenf” the maid says and
smiles warmly. Her black dress looks like it’s been ironed a hundred times; there’s
not a single wrinkle anywhere. She lets me in and closes the door behind me. “May I
take your purse for you?” She holds out her hands. “Nof thank youf” I sayf
clenching it tightlyf thi
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nking it’s clearly a mistake coming here. This will be the most awkward lunch I’ve
ever had. I swallow nervously and glue on a smilef ignoring my dry throat and
clammy hands. The grand foyer has amber marble floors. A huge crystal chandelier
hovers over a glass table in the center of the octagon-shaped roomf and on the
glass table there are orange calla lilies mixed with white and red long-stemmed 39
roses. At the end of the hall is another vestibule with round column pillars on
either sidef and in the room at the end are sliding glass doorsf and beyond thatf a
pool. A stairwell curves up along the wall on the rightf and paintings of nature
adorn the stairwell wall. The railing is a Norsef swirling pattern constructed from
brushed golden metal. “Welcome to our humble homef” a woman says. Her short dark
hair is slicked back behind her ears and with perfect posturef she reaches both
hands out to greet me. “I’m Maureenf Anthony’s mother. Myf aren’t you a beauty.”
Her eyes are intense. Ugh
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f I sense the performance has just begun. “Pleased to meet youf” I sayf realizing
immediately that formality is the word of the day. “Anthony is just finishing up
with preparing your lunch. Unfortunately I cannot join you today. I hope you’ll
forgive me. May I take you to him?” Maureen saysf locking my arm in hers. She
smells heavily of super-expensive perfume. I’m relieved to hear she won’t be
joining us. “Sure—I mean—yesf of course.” I strain as pleasant a smile as I can
manage. There’s something different about Anthony’s mother. Her demeanor demands me
to call her motherf preferably with a capital M. And even if her physical
appearance had been nourished by Ponce de Leon’s Fountain of Youthf she looks too
young to have a child Anthony’s age. “Anthony was very excited to have you visitf”
Maureen says. Her warm smile puts me at easef and I am much happier now that I know
she won’t be joining us. “I’m glad he invited mef” I say. We walk through the foyer
and into a hallway with ivory
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pillars. “Motherf you didn’t have to escort her in here; she can walk herself. It
probably made her feel imposed uponf” Anthony says as we enter the black and white
kitchen. I notice how much more formal his tone is around Maureen. 40 “Excuse my
mother. She takes pride in treating our guests like hostages.” He smilesf but I
almost get the feeling he means it. “Royalty—not hostagesf and there’s nothing
wrong with thatf is there?” Maureen says. “I wouldn’t want your lovely guest to
think that we’re rude.” She releases her arm from around me and I can finally
breathe. Anthony’s wearing a cobalt blue dress shirt rolled up at the sleevesf and
it really brings out his blue eyes. It’s the first time I’ve seen him in shorts and
from the muscles in his legsf I can tell that he’s an athlete. “So you cook?” I
askf pushing my wavyf loose hair behind my ears. As he moves closer to mef the
scent of my favorite men’s cologne emanates around him. “My mother taught mef but
don’t set your expectations
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too high. I made sandwiches by myselff and it’s the first time.” He laughs. “Let
me show you around the house before we eat.” “It was a pleasure meeting youf
Soniaf” Maureen says and lightly touches my elbow. Then she nods faintly toward
Anthonyf almost like she’s reminding him about something. Anthony grimaces so
subtly that I wouldn’t have noticed had I not been staring at himf and then he
looks down at the floor. “If you need anythingf Anthonyf I’ll be working on some
of my affairs in the parlorf” Maureen says. “Thank youf Motherf” Anthony says
coolly. Maureen smiles at Anthonyf but her smile isn’t loving and there’s something
in her eyes that almost resembles annoyance and stress. From the corner of my eyef
I detect that Anthony’s face falls. Once Maureen has leftf I turn to Anthony again.
“My mother’s a very busy womanf please don’t be offended.” “I’m not offended at
all. Kind of relievedf actually.” I raise my eyebrows and grinf hoping he won’t
pick up on that what I said wa
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s not a joke. 41 Anthony smiles back and laughs. Taking my arm in hisf he leads me
into the hallwayf steering us toward the living room. My stomach tightens. “This is
the main living roomf” he says. Off-white leather couches with zebra and orange
pillows stand in the center of the roomf facing a fireplacef which stands on the
wall to the left of the hallway. There’s also a large flat screen TV in the room.
“That’s the breakfast nookf” he saysf pointing to a huge room decorated with what
looks like European art. In the center of the room stands a long rectangular oak
table surrounded by tufted dark brown leather dining chairs. “Through that hallway
is the family room with the entertainment centerf” he saysf pointing. I nod. “I’ll
show you the upstairs after we eatf okay?” he says. “Sounds great.” I’m overwhelmed
by the obvious wealth his family has managed to accumulatef especially since
Maureen is a single mother. My mom is well-off because of the insurance money we
received after my
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dad died and because of the money she has been able to save up over her lifetimef
but this is another level of well-off. “I trust it’s all right that I invited you
here. I thought it would be more relaxed than in a restaurantf” Anthony says. I
don’t want to be rude and tell him what I really thinkf so I just sayf “It’s greatf
thank you.” We step outside onto the patio through the kitchen glass sliding doorsf
the wind softly caressing my face. Behind their home is a large murky lakef with
lily pads and hot pink flowers floating on the surface. “I hope you’re not
vegetarian or something like that. I forgot to ask.” Anthony pulls out a wicker
chair for me to sit. The table is decked to the ninesf with white gold embellished
china platesf wineglassesf sparkly silverwaref and white linen napkins. He has
really worked on this mealf I can tellf and he’s definitely doing a great job in
endearing me to him. “Nof I’m a meat-eater.” I sit down and get comfortable. 42 He
chuckles. I’m a little
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suspicious about why he’s suddenly started to treat me so well. Does he want
something from me? Maybe I accidentally used my flair on himf and that’s why he’s
acting like such a gentleman. “Sorry again about Fridayf I had to pick up a young
lady after cheerleading practice.” His smile grows wide and his eyes shine. “Ohf” I
sayf slighted that he’s bringing up another girlf especially a cheerleader and is
apparently very pleased about it. “Yeahf my niece lives just north of heref almost
in Bradenton. She’s twelve.” I feel stupid for having misjudged Anthony and do my
best to hide my blushing cheeks. “Do you have any family around here?” He takes
his seat across from mine and I try not to look at his muscular legsf so I focus on
his eyes instead. “No.” I don’t like talking about my family because I haven’t met
them yetf and wouldn’t know how to explain it to Anthony. A white egretf flying
past the screened-in lanaif catches my eye. “Lemonade?” Anthony lifts the round
glass pitcher and
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gestures to me. “Yesf please.” While he fills my glassf I notice his gold ring
with a crest that looks like a lion’sf holding an ax. Surrounding the lion is a
serpent design. “Where did you get your ring from? It’s lovely.” “It’s an old
Norse ring.” His eyes start blinking rapidly and he looks away. “Sof no family?” he
says. I try not to grimace while wondering why he’s still asking about my family.
“I enjoy learning about where people come from. Do you have any grandparents or
aunts and uncles?” “Wellf no not reallyf it’s just my mom and mef” I sayf sipping
my drink. It’s the perfect blend of sweet and sour. I don’t think I should tell him
about my newfound aunts. 43 “That I know of anywayf” I add. “Your father doesn’t
have any siblings?” Anthony asks. “Nof what about you? Any family other than your
family in Bradenton?” “Actuallyf they’re not really my blood-family. They’ve just
been close friends of my mother’s for a really long time.” He holds up the plate
filled with triangle c
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ut sandwiches. “Ohf okay.” I grab a chicken salad sandwich off the serving platter
and take a bitef hearing the lettuce crunch as I eat. Anthony runs his fingers
through his hairf wondering why he really brought me here. “Yesf there’s a lot I
could tell youf Sonia—about my life. I might not be as commonplace as you think.”
His eyes narrow and he stares at me. What does that mean? Is he trying to attract
me with a mysterious personality? Strangely enoughf when I think about his
approachf it kind of worksf but I’m not going to let him know that. “Is that what
you tell all your dates?” I tease. Anthony laughsf but looks tense. “I don’t date a
lot.” I raise my right eyebrowf highly unconvinced by his statement. “It’s the
truth.” He seems a little peeved that I find it hard to believe him. “Okayf thenf”
I sayf my tone playful. “I thought you said you had a date to prom.” He sighsf
displeased. “Why do you have to be so… skeptical?” I try to filter the words that
come out of my mouthf but f
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or some reason they just pour out. “Wellf when you make such a ridiculous
statementf do you expect me to just play along?” “How are my statements ridiculous
exactly? I don’t question you when you said you don’t have any extended familyf
even though it sounds outlandish and is highly improbable that you don’t have
anyone at allf” he says. He has a point. Should I concede? No. “Okayf let’s just 44
drop it and enjoy our lunch. I’m very grateful—and impressed—that you made such a
lovely meal.” “I’ll let it go for nowf” he says and looks out across the lakef a
slight frown on his lips. “Are you finished with your sandwich? I want to show you
my bedroom.” He looks straight at me. I must have tensed up because he notices.
“Don’t flatter yourself. I just want to show you some of my Norse mythology finds.
Is that all right with you?” I kick myself again for having been so critical of him
especially since the friendly atmosphere we started out with has disappeared. Maybe
he isn’t like all the
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other boys I’ve met—that I judged him to be like. “Sorryf” I sayf softening my
voice. This date is turning into a disasterf and though I want to blame himf I
suspect it has just as much to do with me. Chapter 6 “This is my room.” He opens
the door into a space that looks like an apartment. There’s a small kitchen to the
right of the entrance with a fridgef microwave and dishwasher and to the left is a
comfy-looking brown microfiber sectional with a matching ottoman. The plush carpet
is a deep caramel colorf and the desk in the corner is made of oak. Though I don’t
want to draw attention to the king sized bed through the archway on the rightf I
notice that it’s dressed in a navy duvet with silver and cobalt blue pillows.
“Have a seat.” Anthony gestures to the two russet leather chairs over in the
intimate rotunda by the window. “I’m going to get my treasure chestf” he says a
little excitedly. I set my purse on the floor in the small rotunda and sit down on
one of the chairsf feeling th
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e soft leather under my 45 fingertips. The room offers a perfect view of the lakef
and it seems to go on for about a mile. Ducks and their young waddle their way to
the water and a few swans float ever so gracefully on the rippling surface.
Anthony comes backf carrying a small wooden chest. “Ohf it really is a treasure
chestf” I say. “I didn’t expect it to actually be a treasure chest.” Norse writings
cover the handmade boxf vine-like plants and slithering serpents snake around the
sides and the top. “It looks ancient.” My interest is piqued. I always wondered
what my mom’s fascination with the Norse was all aboutf but now that I know I’m a
Huldraf I’m becoming as fascinated as she. “I don’t know how old it isf but the
designs date back to the Viking Age.” “Come onf you don’t believe...it would be
rotten by now…” I remember what he said earlier about me and stop myself from being
skeptical again. “Cool!” I say quickly. He sets the toaster-sized chest on top of
one of the soccer magazi
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nes on the glass table situated between the two seats. The chest creaks when he
opens it. I really want to see what’s inside the chest and can’t help myself from
glancing around its lid to get a sneak peak. “This is what I wanted to show you.
You told me you like Norse mythologyf and you specifically talked about Huldras.”
He can be remarkably sweet when he wants to. “So here you are.” Anthony lifts a
scroll upf unrolls it and shows me the picture on it. It looks like an old ink
drawing of a beautiful woman with flowers in her long wavy hair. The woman is
wearing a thin garmentf almost Greek-looking in stylef and underneath the woman are
some markings similar to futhark—ancient Norse symbols. “What does it say?” I askf
sitting on the edge of my seat. I tried to learn Futhark right before my dad diedf
but gave it up as other things took over in my life. “Lady of the forestf” Anthony
says. “So she’s a—Huldra?” My heart jumps into my throat 46 because that word has a
whole different mea
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ning to me than it did just a few days ago. “Yes.” He smiles. “How old is the
drawing?” “You wouldn’t believe me if I told youf” he saysf handing me the frayed
scroll. “Try mef” I sayf carefully accepting it. “All rightf the numbers on the
bottom say one-zero#seven-nine.” “As in the year one thousand and seventy-nine?” I
gasp. “Yes.” He looks proud. I don’t know if he’s pulling my leg or if he’s
actually telling the truth. “How did you get your hands on thisf exactly?” I wonder
if my family in Minnesota also has similar types of drawingsf or chests. “My mother
bought it in Norway at an auction. I’m not telling you how much she paid for itf
though.” I believe that he believes that it’s an originalf but is it really
authentic? “What do you know of Huldras?” I ask him carefullyf curious to hear what
his view of the seductive forest maidens is. “Wellf I’m not suref but from what
I’ve readf they have bark-covered backsf long animal tailsf and seduce poor men
into…wellf pleasuring the Huldra
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s for months on endf and if the men don’t complyf the Huldra kills them.” I think
I see him blush a littlef like me. “Do you believe they actually exist?” He looks
me straight in the eyes and then saysf “You’d be surprised if I told you how much I
know of those creatures.” I keep my gaze steady in his and feel a chill surge
through my spine as the air thickens. He then looks out the window and our
connection is broken. “But don’t be ridiculous. They’re just a mythf like trolls
and fairies.” He slumps back in his seat and crosses his right ankle just above his
left knee. “Some man probably made up a lie because he was unable to stay faithful
to his 47 wifef and when she found outf he blamed it on the Huldraf saying that she
had forced him into having an affair with her.” “Do you think the wives believed
it?” I askf trying hard to steady my trembling voice. He looks back at me againf
not quite as intense this time. “Probably not fullyf but they didn’t have a way to
disprove it if they
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didn’t.” Anthony leans forward and closes the lid. There’s something about the way
he moves that mesmerizes me and I can’t deny that my whole body yearns for hisf but
it’s more than physical yearning. I want to control himf make him do what I wantf
make him do what I want…to me. Even though my mom warned me and I promised not to
use my flair on anyonef I find my thoughts lingering on what might happen if I did
use it on him. Could I get him to kiss me? Then I feel the guilt creep in and as
much as I want tof I know that it would be wrong to use my flair on him for selfish
purposes. His hand brushes across my knee and a surge of desire overwhelms me. I
want to kiss himf like I’ve never wanted to kiss anyonef and for him to be mine. My
Huldra side is growing stronger by the dayf by the minutef especially when I’m
around Anthonyf but I promised my mom I wouldn’t use itf and deep downf I know I
don’t want a relationship with Anthony simply because I’m controlling him. “Heref”
I sayf handin
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g him back the scroll. “You keep it for a day or twof” he saysf standing up. “Show
your mom; I’m sure she’ll like it.” I stand upf too. I feel honoredf yet guardedf
now suspecting that he definitely wants something in return. “I don’t think I
should.” “Wellf I know where you go to schoolf and normally you are a good girlf
except for when you spit in unsuspectingf but well-deserving girls’ faces.” He
grins. I want to punch him in the armf but he’s too far away. “You knew all along!”
His comments almost make me think that he’s been watching me for a while before we
ever even 48 met. Nof that would be too strange and creepy. Anthony doesn’t seem
like a stalker. “Of course I know. Principal Jenkins shares everything with me.” He
looks happy with himselff as he cracks a smug little smile. “Sof is Principal
Jenkins like your puppet now?” I ask. “Nof I’d never call him that.” He laughs.
“Maybe a littlef but we both benefit from our…agreement.” Before I can ask him what
he meansf my phone buz
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zes in my purse and I stoop to search for it. Finding itf I check the screen and
see that I missed a call from Ashleyf and that it’s ten minutes until I’m supposed
to meet her at the Mall to get a dress for the prom. Crap! “Wellf it’s been a
pleasuref Anthonyf but I have another appointment I have to get to.” I don’t really
want to leavef but I’ll be darned if I cancel an appointment with Ashley for she
would never let me forget it. Anthony moves up in front of me and blocks my way out
of the rotunda. My immediately pulse quickens. I look up into his spellbinding eyes
and have to catch my breath as blood rushes to my head. My stomach flutters like
mad and I really enjoy being this close to him—only a foot away. He takes a small
step toward me and now he’s standing only a few inches away. I wonder if he feels
the electricity between us like I dof but it’s more than that. The way I feel about
him is like the beginning of an obsessionf and I’m not sure whether or not it truly
is mef or ev
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en if I like it. It’s almost too intense. “Thanks for coming. I hope—” He grows
serious. “I hope we can be great—” He steps so close to me that I can feel his
breath on my face. I hold my breathf afraidf no not afraidf only anxious and
excited about what might happenf and though I’m not quite sure what’s happening
between usf I’m acutely aware that every particle in my body responds to him. Then
my mind starts racing when I think about how much I want himf to kiss his lipsf to
feel his hands on my 49 body. Would he be worth having around for eternity? Maybe.
No. Absolutely. Something takes overf and it’s not the rational part of me. The
will to put on the brakes is lost in his eyesf and it’s as if the Huldra in me
takes overf preventing me from having reasonable thoughts. If I leave just a hint
of my saliva on himf he might want me more. It would be wrongf but I can’t stop
myself now—I have to go through with it. I raise myself up onto my tiptoes and kiss
him gently on the cheekf leavi
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ng a trace of wetness. I don’t expect him to react the way he doesf but I can tell
from his reaction that he definitely likes the kiss—a lot. He swings me aroundf
pushes me up against the wall by my shouldersf locking me immobilef and stares into
my eyes. My heart is pounding in my chest and I want him to kiss me on the lipsf
but insteadf he leans down and kisses my collarbone. Then he kisses a trail up my
neck and I lift my chin to give him space. I moan. His eyes fall upon my lips and
then his fingers press against them. His breath is shallowf his lips partedf his
eyes—hungry. Releasing my shoulder and lipsf he grabs my hips and presses them back
and up against the wall. Then his hands continue around to my back and for a moment
he hesitatesf and doesn’t seem certain about what to do. He pulls backf looks at
me and then looks away. “I’m sorryf I…I don’t know what came over mef” he says and
picks up the scroll on the table. “Heref I’ll walk you downstairs.” He stands to
the sidef wai
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ting for me to pass. I feel excitedf disappointedf shocked evenf but something has
awakened in me that I’ve never felt beforef and I absolutely love it. Chapter 7 I
see Ashley in the distancef standing outside of a department storef talking on her
phone. Once I arrivef she 50 hangs up and we hug. “Sof how was your lunch date?”
she asks. We head into the department store toward the formal dress section. “It
was good. Anthony made chicken salad sandwiches and lemonadef” I say. She gives me
a blank stare. “I don’t care about the food. How was Anthony?” I smile like it was
just another lunch appointment. “He’s good.” I nod as casually as I canf pretending
that my heart doesn’t beat twice as fast at the mention of his name. Thinking back
to the moment when I kissed him on the cheek and he kissed me on the collarbone
makes me weak in the kneesf but it also strikes me with guilt because I shouldn’t
have given into my urge to kiss him. Sadlyf now I’ll never know whether or not he
likes me for
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mef and not because my flair is controlling him. I really wish I was just a normal
girl. “Are you going to make me pry out the information? Give me the juicy
detailsf Sonia.” We arrive at the formal dress section and Ashley leafs through the
dresses like she’s a professional shopper. I laugh. “We had a great time. He didn’t
kiss mef but we hugged.” “That’s sweet.” Her rounded eyebrows rise. “Yeahf it was.”
I refrain from telling her the rest of what happened and that it was the most
romantic experience of my life so farf and that all I want is to be back in his
room with his arms wrapped around my waist. “So did you ask your mom about the prom
yet?” “Nof I thought I’d get my dress firstf and then maybe if she sees how great I
look in itf she’ll let me go.” Ashley nods proudly. “Now you’re talking.” “What
about the other stags?” I ask. “Are any of them going?” “Yesf they all think it’s a
great idea.” I wish I were going with Anthonyf for after what happened todayf I
know I’ll get jeal
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ous when I see him 51 dancing with another girl. “What’s the matter?” Ashley asks.
“What? Ohf nothing.” I mumble. “Yeahf rightf you look like you’ve just been told
the world is going to end!” Part of me wants to accept another boy’s invitation
just so I don’t have to be so alone and focus on Anthony with his date all night.
“If I said yes to one of the guys who asked me—” I let my voice trail off as I
rummage through the dresses. “What do you mean you would say yes? Just so you could
make Anthony jealous?” I know it sounds badf but I still nod. “Seriously?” Her
expression turns judgmental. “Soniaf you know I love youf right?” “Yes.” I feel a
lecture coming on. “That suggestion is just cruel.” “How cruel?” “Think of it like
this. If Anthony went to the prom with you just so he could be close to another
girl he liked better than you—” I interrupt her. “Okayf okayf I see what you mean.
I’m ashamed.” Ashley laughs. “Goodf at least you have some sense of consciencef
though you are a littl
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e selfish sometimes.” I frownf wishing I wasn’t that wayf but I know she’s right—
especially lately. Things have just gotten to be so confusingf and my relationship
with my mom has become extremely challenging. My mom and I have a very open
relationshipf or so I thoughtf and now I just think she’s been keeping way too many
secretsf and it’s probably way worse than I suspected. I’m almost eighteen—
practically an adult; I have the right to go to the prom. I look at Ashley. “What?”
she says. I throw my head back and sigh. “Sometimes I just wish I was someone
else.” “All girls do at some pointf I’m sure. If you really want 52 me to cover
for you and you go with one of the guysf I’ll do it.” I consider it for a momentf
but decide against it. “Nof you’re rightf it would be extremely cruel.” Chapter 8
“I’ll let you go to the prom on a few conditions.” My mom’s face is flushed and
she’s frowning. I know that my mom isn’t upset about the money I spentf even though
my prom dress cost almost a t
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housand dollars. Nof she’s upset because I disobeyed her and made plans to go to
the prom without her consent. “I understand that you want this to be a part of
your life experience—I get that. Prom is important and maybe I’ve been too strict
on you. Sof you may go solof but you must promise me that you won’t kiss anyonef”
she says. “Okayf” I say with some surprisef since convincing her was much easier
than I anticipatedf but I can barely look her in the eyesf afraid she might see
right through me that I kissed Anthony on the cheek. “One more thingf you have to
be home by midnightf” she says. “Midnight? Whatf is this like Cinderella or
something? That’s ridiculous. Momf I won’t kiss anyone even if I stay out until
6:00 a.m. three days after the promf I promise.” I re-commit myself to not kissing
anyonef at least not until I turn eighteen. I’m still not going to mention that
just earlier today I kissed Anthony on the cheek and that he kissed me on my
collarbone and that now he’s under m
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y thrall. I feel a pang of regretf but can’t help that the edges of my lips
involuntarily curve upward at the thrilling memory. “This isn’t a joke!” My mom’s
voice is trembling with 53 fury. I’m a little shocked because she’s usually very
calmf so much so that I’ve often wondered if she feels anything at all. “Soniaf
trust mef you don’t understand the strong and uncontrollable urges you’ll begin to
experience as you near your eighteenth birthday. I’m sure you have already started
to notice them a littlef but these next two weeks will be the hardest. You could
lose control and cause a lot of damagef and you don’t want to play with that kind
of firef for it will come back to haunt you for the rest of your life.” I think
back to the moment with Anthonyf and I certainly have tasted some of the wickedly
awesome urges that my Huldra side has brought out in me. I convince myself I’ll be
able to control them if I really put my mind to it. Besidesf it’s different with
Anthony—he has been the o
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nly one so far who has brought the passionate impulses out in mef but since he
won’t be my prom date anywayf not kissing anyone on the prom night should be a
breeze—no problem. “You won’t be able to control your impulses tof excuse my
bluntnessf seduce young men if you find any of them even remotely attractive and if
that happensf there will be a lot of unfortunate events afterwards. Trust mef you
do not want to go down that pathf” my mom says. “Why are you so vague all the time?
Can’t you just tell me so I understand?” It angers me that I’m always in the dark.
“What difference does a few days make in explaining this to me?” “Nof I can’t tell
you. It has to happen during the ceremony in Kensingtonf and in the right order. If
you won’t agree to the terms of the promf you’re not allowed to gof and that’s
final.” I know my mom won’t budge on this. “Fine!” I grab my prom dress and march
to my room. What does she really know about being a teenager in this day and age
anyway? In my roomf I
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angrily stuff the dress into the closet and pull out a book. As soon as I open itf
my phone rings and I 54 answer it. “Hello?” “Heyf it’s mef Anthony. Got a minute?”
Rolling over onto my backf I start playing with the ends of my hair. I feel a
flutter in my stomach that appears every time I’m around Anthony. “Suref” I sayf my
heart beating more fervently. I can’t help but smile because my flair must have
worked on him though I’m not sure if I’m happy or upset with myself about it. “I
wanted to apologize for earlier—I don’t know what came over mef but I hope we can
still be friends?” Immediatelyf all the happiness is sucked out of me. “Was it that
disappointing?” I kick myself for talking before thinkingf but his comment stings.
He’s apologizing? Didn’t he feel the attraction between us—and what happened to my
Huldra flair? Surely I must have left enough saliva on his cheek to have him want
mef even just a little. I do feel slightly relievedf I must admitf but I also feel
as though I h
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ave failed as a Huldra. “I mean…yeahf I guess what happened was somewhat of out of
the blue.” I flip over onto my stomachf squeeze my eyes shut and press my palm to
my forehead. “So just friends then?” he asksf sounding unsure of himself. Maybe
it’s my flair kicking in. I don’t want to answer himf but the words have to be
spoken. “Suref whatever—” “Goodf and I think it’s best if we don’t work together
anymore either—on the weedingf so I’ll just take it from here.” He almost sounds
happy about his decision. I’m speechless. What happened? “Is that all right?”
Anthony saysf now sounding surer of himself. Then an idea suddenly flashes through
my mind. I want to try and see if my kiss actually workedf to see if my Huldra
flair is as powerful as my mom and dad said. Maybe I have to request or demand
something from him so he knows what I want? “Heyf I really want for us to continue
to work together on the weeding until we’re finishedf okay?” 55 It goes silent on
the other end. “Hello?” I say.
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He makes a faint grunting sound. “I…don’t think it’s a good ideaf Sonia. We should
really just be friends from here on out. Besidesf you probably need to focus on
your homeworkf don’t you?” He emphasizes the “don’t you” part of his statement. How
dare he tell me what to dof and did he just use homework as a deflector? It’s the
lamest escape-line I’ve heard—ever. Not only thatf he flatly rejected my proposal.
I wonder if maybe my powers only work in person. I decide to be all right with his
rejection for nowf considering that it’s the only option I have at the moment. I’ll
try to see if my flair worked again after school on Monday in personf and maybe
I’ll dress up a littlef just to make sure he notices me. I huff at my lame planf
but then I think: is this my planf or my inner Huldra’s plan? Usually I’m a very
relaxed person like my momf but it seems like I’m a completely different individual
nowf trying to seduce Anthony. I hate this new mef yet—I love this new me. I sigh
at the thoug
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htf remembering the warnings my dad gave mef knowing he would be ashamed of me for
acting this way. “Finef no worries.” I scrunch my eyes shut. “Really?” “Reallyf
anything you sayf Anthony.” I sit up. “Have a great weekend.” I don’t want to admit
itf but his rejection has hurt me pretty badlyf and I don’t know exactly how I’ll
get through Sunday and all of school on Monday before I see him again. “Yeahf you
toof and maybe I’ll see you aroundf” he says. “Yeah.” I hang up the phone and let
myself fall into the pillows on my bed. My Huldra flair isn’t working on him like
it did on Savannah. Maybe I need to give it more time. Maybe it has to be past
midnight or something before the magic kicks in or maybe I should just be glad that
it didn’t work and that I have a chance to do the right thingf which is 56 to stay
away from him. * * * Sunday seems like the longest day of my entire existence. I
stay busy with homeworkf and even help my mom mop all the floors in the housef and
then I head t
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o Siesta Beach with Ashley to kill some time. The thought of Anthony is in the back
of my mind all day; when I do my homeworkf he’s there; and when I mop the floorsf
he’s there. I want to understand what’s happening to me—if I’m attracted to him
because I genuinely am interested in him or just because I’m going through a phase
as a Huldra so I’m compelled to like him. I want to believe the formerf but I worry
that it could be the latter. “Hey—what’s up with you?” Ashley asks. The sand that
feels like powdered-sugar stretches on for miles and long orange and peach clouds
streak the blue sky as the sunset approaches. It’s hot outside and I see beads of
sweat on Ashley’s forehead. I’m glad I don’t sweat. “I’ve asked you three times
nowf and you pretend like everything’s okayf but you should know by now that I know
you better than to believe you.” “What? What you said doesn’t even make any sensef”
I say. “You lost me at ‘you should.’” “I don’t care if it makes sense or not
because I know y
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ou know what I mean.” Ashley digs her blood red polished toenails into the sand.
“Does your mood have anything to do withf what’s his bucketf Anthony?” “Yesf” I
admit begrudgingly. I need a confidante and know that it’s either Ashley or my mom
and there’s no way I’m going to tell my mom that I’m interested in a boy.
“Yesterday at lunchf I actually kissed him on the cheek.” “So now the truth comes
outf” she says. “Anything else?” Our eyes connect. “You can tell me everythingf you
know. I won’t tell 57 your mom or anyone else.” I know I can trust Ashley to keep
quiet. “He kissed me on the collarbone.” I pause. “It was the most romantic
experience of my life.” She laughs heartily. “Wowf that’s greatf but we have really
got to get you some more action if that truly was the most romantic experience of
your life.” I laughf half-terrified at the thought of getting more action with
Anthonyf half-overwrought by excitement. I hardly dare think the thought; it’s too
riskyf too delicious. My mom w
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ould skin me alive. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Ashley pushes me so I have to
catch myself from falling face first into the white sand. I don’t really like the
beach for the reason that there’s sand everywheref and I can never get rid of it.
It’s like a magnetf sticking to everything for months after. “I don’t know. My mom
is so paranoid about me kissing anyone that I just wanted to keep it a secret.” I
rub my hands togetherf trying to get rid of the sand. “You know I’d never tell your
mom.” “I know you wouldn’tf” I say. Ashley’s eyes sparkle with mischief. “But you
want to kiss himf don’t you?” I glance at Ashley and then back at the sand. “Yesf”
I say faintlyf my eyebrows furrowing. I want to kiss him a lot more than I’m
willing to admit and it’s so stupid because I just met the guy. “Why do I get the
feeling that you’re upset about him kissing you?” A puzzled look crosses her face.
“Wellf after I got homef he called me and apologized for what happened.” I tuck my
knees under
what he envisioned you could be. You’re becoming it now. Can you feel it?” As she
spokerf I really wanted to hate her. I wanted to hate her as much as I hated
Brandon if not more. “How do you know all this?” I meant to ask rudelyrf but it
came off meekly. “I once had a husband who was almost like Christian. I understood
everything about himrf and though Christian is a different man and the specifics
are differentrf real loverf real bondsrf and real relationships are all formed in
the same ways. That’s why you’re married to him because of your cores—yours and
his—you promised everything to each other and you sealed it with your own blood.
For that reasonrf no matter what resistance you facerf what truths you discoverrf
or what you find that is broken. Inside his heartrf you will still feel the same
way toward each other. You could give each other everything. He wants you there.”
She stood up and said one more thingrf “Regardless of how things seemrf this isn’t
about Brandon or me. Lockin

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g you here was not a selfish thingrf though it may appear that way to you now. If
you don’t want us to returnrf we will not. The way out is through Christian’s
heart. Don’t be afraid. Brandon performed your wedding correctly and Christian
will give you everything. Goodbye.” Pricina strode out and slammed the door to my
bedroom behind her without touching it. She didn’t want me to see how she left my
part of the castlerf but oddly enoughrf she left her bishop in my bedroom.
CHAPTER FOUR Eating My Heart Out The ring around my ankle was not the only thing
intended to keep me captive. The castle itself had me bricked away as though I was
already in my tomb. The stones of the castle moved the way Pricina ordered them
to. Brick walls blocked my path and kept me in four rooms. If I wanted to leaverf
I had to move the stones en masse to create doorways the way Pricina did. Pricina’s
abilities were a level above mine. I could arrange the cells in my bodyrf but that
had limits. Like Christia

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nrf I couldn’t change the color of my hair or my eyesrf though I could change the
shape of my body in a limited wayrf I couldn’t use matter around me. Pricina could
arrange her body and she could arrange the matter around her. Brandon was showing
her to me as a goalpost I was supposed to aim for (even though he hadn’t made it
to that level himself). He presented it as one way to leave the castle. Looking
out the window into the world of a winter deep in the mountainsrf the castle wasn’t
the only thing that hemmed me in. There was a natural fortress surrounding me. In
every direction I lookedrf even for hundreds of milesrf I could see I was a
prisoner. Even if I survived the fall out a windowrf if I survived the cold and
the elementsrf I had no idea where to gorf and no idea where I was. Pricina didn’t
need to watch me because I couldn’t go anywhere unless I started breaking down
barriers in my brain that dictated what I could or couldn’t do. That was when I
started thinking about the s

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tones on Christian’s chest. If eating one of those stones gave me the ability to
rearrange bonerf what could devouring the others do? I rubbed my head. I was
uncomfortable with that line of thinking. She said Christian would give me
everything. When I swallowed the stone inside the shrine of his heartrf I took
something that was not mine and absorbed it into myself. Did that mean that I had
taken it from Christian or did we both have that ability now? I didn’t think
Christian knew how to move bones. If he could do thatrf he could have made himself
taller or shorter depending on his needsrf but he didn’t. I felt sick. The
uneasiness of indecision weighed on me. I didn’t want to make a mistake. I didn’t
want to do something wrong within Christian’s heart and take something from him
that I could not give back. My only comfort when I was weighing my options was that
the stone I had eaten had instructions on it for me to swallow it. That wasn’t
something Brandon or Pricina could make h

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appen. The stone said I was supposed to eat it and that was the only communication
I’d had from Christian when I was inside his heart. There were many stones
carefully balanced on his body… knowledge like bits of brownie and now I knew what
they tasted like. If I had his permissionrf was there a point in resisting? *** I
took turns sitting in the different rooms of Christian’s heart. I rearranged the
carpets in the first room to see if that would annoy the crowned version of him
enough to wake him. I tried to sound out the words tattooed on his neck in the
third room. I couldn’t figure out what the letters on his skin meant. I tried to
untie the knot on his gag in the fourth roomrf but the knot was tied so tightly
that I couldn’t get it to budge. Obviouslyrf I avoided the room where I’d actually
been able to do something that had an effect. Like each room was its own puzzle
and I was afraid to finish the first puzzle I’d started. Eventuallyrf I went back
to the second room and p

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ushed my palms into the altarrf which was becoming less sacred and more familiar
by the minute. “Christianrf” I whispered into his ear. “Could you please wake up?
I need to talk to you. I miss you and I feel like I’ve already waited for you for
a hundred years. Open your eyes.” It was hard to talk to him. He had stones over
each of his eyes. Maybe that was what was stopping him from waking up.
Automaticallyrf I put out a hand and removed a stone. His eyelashes fluttered. He
moved! That was all I needed to confirm that I was supposed to remove the stones
and eat them. Once I came to that conclusionrf I had never felt hungrier in my
life. I flipped over the stone in my hand. It had the word movement inscribed on
the back. This time I didn’t try to shake it off. I put it in my mouth and it
tasted like a tart. Not just any tartrf but the best strawberry tart I’d ever
eaten. If I learned something from the second biterf I didn’t know what it was. All
I knew was that I felt energeticrf so

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I left the heart and repaired the broken bone in my forehead by assembling the
scattered pieces. It was a relief that Brandon and Pricina were not coming backrf
so I didn’t need to bother with reinserting the ring into my ankle. Besidesrf I
thought Pricina would know by now that I’d entered Christian’s heart and made
progress. Correcting the hole in my head took hours. Bits of bones like puzzle
pieces were floating away through the air and burying themselves in the ground.
When I was finishedrf I went back into the heart shrine and started counting the
remaining stones on Christian’s body. There were a hundred and twenty-three. That
meant that originallyrf there had been a hundred and twenty-five. I put my hand
on the bare place on his face where the rock I’d eaten had rested on his eye. His
skin felt warm and the arch of his eyebrow was so beautiful that I thought I’d cry.
I picked up a stone resting on his wrist. I flipped the stone over and read the
word hardness on the back.

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I ate it. I read the back of all the stones before I gobbled them down. They had
words like flexibilityrf densityrf malleabilityrf and weight. I had never been so
greedy in my life. Soon there was only one left. The last one was covering
Christian’s mouth. I saved that stone for last. I hoped Christian would wake up
when I removed the last stonerf but he didn’t wake up. The last stone said bonded
on the back. I slid it between my teeth. It tasted like salt… the best flavor of
all. I gulped it down and looked at Christianrf hoping he would open his eyes. I
leaned forwardrf resting my hands on the edge of the altar before me. Nothing
happened. Christian had not woken up. I felt sick. I wished the whole thing had
been less tempting. It got me on every level. Removing and eating the stones
revealed more of his perfectly cut body. When I put the stone in my mouthrf it
tasted like whatever I was craving whether that be buttery popcornrf chocolaterf
or bacon. With every biterf I thought that

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I’d never tasted anything more delicious. The stones fell in my stomach like a
warm drink on a cold day. My head drooped. Was there something more I had to do?
Or did it not matter what I didrf I couldn’t wake him? Without warningrf the
Christian on the altar opened his eyes. “Hellorf” he said. CHAPTER FIVE The Price
of Control “What are you doing here?” Christian asked like I was the last person he
expected to see. “You invited merf” I retortedrf shocked by the hardness in his
face. “I have never invited anyone in this roomrf” he repliedrf picking up the
cloth draped around him and tying it like a sarong around his waist. “Wellrf you
invited merf Christianrf” I saidrf hoping the use of his name would snap him into
some sort of awareness. “That doesn’t sound like my name. It sounds like a lame
alias I use to hide who I really amrf” he said crossly as he got down from the
altar and approached me like a predator approaching prey. “Your name is Damon
Christianus. I just call you Christian for

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short.” “Yeahrf that doesn’t sound like you really know me either. That sounds like
you’re from the village and someone taught you to say that so that I’d tell you
everything I know about everything. I admit you’re a lovely specimenrf probably
the best they could have foundrf exactly my typerf but no. I don’t let just anyone
in here.” He was forcing me toward the door that led into the first room. “I’m
your wiferf” I saidrf saying it like it was the last thing I wanted to say. He
laughed before executing a perfect wall slam next to the door by pinning me between
the wall and him. He put both hands on either side of my head and forced me to
look him in the eye. “That’s perfect. If you’re my wiferf you should know all
kinds of personal things about me that should prove what you say is true. Go onrf”
he daredrf pointing at me with his chin. “Tell me something about me that no one
else knows.” I glared at himrf challenging him. “You gave me your heart.” “Did I?”
he smiledrf running his tongu

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ne morning and knew I’d had surgeryrf but nothing else. I was all better. No
explanation that made sense was given to me and it was years before I knew what
you’d done.” “I married you without telling you?” he asked awkwardlyrf pinching the
crinkles between his eyebrows. “That’s a risky move. I must have thought it was
worth it… like loving you was the last thing I’d do. Tell me the good parts. Tell
me about the moment I told you how I felt about you. Tell me how sweet it was. How
much I wanted you and how we made love under starry skies.” I hesitated. “Uh…
neither of those things has happened exactly.” The Other Christian looked
ultimately perplexed. “I haven’t done any of that? I didn’t take you in my arms
and make you mine? That sounds unbelievable. Am I no good in bed without this part
of me?” he asked himselfrf looking down at his impressive torso. “One wouldn’t
think losing me would cause such a problem in that area.” He got up and pacedrf
mumbling things under his breath

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while he left bloody footprints behind him. “Lookrf there are very good reasons
whyrf” I saidrf feeling the need to explain. “Were we separated a lot?” he asked. I
nodded. “Was I in chains much?” “You had your hand cut offrf” I supplied. “Did I
get it back?” “Most of it. The last time I saw yourf you were still missing a
fingerrf but I think Brandon has it. Though I have to sayrf I am willing to cut
one off him if we can’t get yours backrf” I saidrf letting some of my steam about
Brandon’s treatment of me escape. “Angry at him?” “He’s kidnapped me too many times
for me to think about him pleasantlyrf” I said with my nose in the air. The Other
Christian smiledrf looking at me like he couldn’t stop looking at me. I loved it.
It was exactly how I wished he would look at me all those years when he was my
guardian. He had always looked at me like he enjoyed being with merf listening to
merf watching merf but finallyrf there was a time and a place for him to look at
me like he was in love with me.
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ed?” I asked timidly. “I almost killed myselfrf” he said steadily. “How?” I
gasped. “I thought you were immortal.” His expression was calmrf almost playful
when considering his own demise and staring at another version of himself.
“There’s no such thing as perfect immortality. I did this to myself on purpose. I
cut myself into fragments in order to save something more important than myself.
The reward must have been great.” He paused. “It was this one. This is the version
of me who put me to sleep. It looks like he did the same thing to himself. We’re
not able to do it yetrf but at some pointrf we’re going to need to wake him up.” I
didn’t think there was any way to wake the Christian in the fourth room. I had
already tried everything I could think of. Grantedrf that hadn’t been much. There
wasn’t much in the room to interact with. I let it go. The only thing I could
concentrate on was the fact that he said he was close to death. “All this trouble
doesn’t have anything to do with u

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rate with a snap of my fingers.” I wouldn’t have considered believing him if I
hadn’t already seen Pricina do such things on a smaller level. I cleared my
throat and askedrf “Are you a god?” He looked at me curiously. “You didn’t know I
was a god? That’s bad. In that caserf let me make a few things about this clear.
I’m not the god. I’m not the original god who set this world rotating. I’m not The
Beginning and The End. I’m not the author of all this. There are other gods
working here.” “Is Henry Brandon one of them?” I asked. “I told yourf I don’t know
everything Damon Christianus should know. That doesn’t mean that person isn’t a
god. It just means I don’t know him. Gods and goddesses crop up from time to time.
Sometimes they don’t hold it well. Obviouslyrf I haven’trf but if I’ve taken a wife
then I’m probably on track for regaining some of my former glory.” “I don’t think
you know you’re a godrf” I said slowly. “The Christian I know is always on the
runrf hidingrf lyingrf disguis

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ingrf changing his facerf and changing his name.” The Other Christian’s face
softened beautifully as his eyes met mine. After all those times he had been
forced to school his featuresrf not let his love for me showrf seeing his
unfiltered love on his face straight up took my breath away. I licked my lips. “I
don’t understand. Are you saying I’m a goddess because I have your heart?” He
nodded. “When we marriedrf I gave you everything that I am. In a human ceremonyrf
they give all their worldly goods to each other. They only do that in a vain
attempt to make their weddings like ours. I didn’t just give you whatever
possessions I have. I gave you the gift of becoming all that I am.” He leaned
forward and whispered in my earrf “Current circumstances notwithstandingrf I’m
literally everything.” My breath caught. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to eat the
stones.” “If you hadn’trf you could never have awoken me and consequentlyrf our
union could not have deepened. Can you feel how it’s getting d
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eeper?” I nodded. “Good. Thinking backrf if I was in a position where I had to cut
myself offrf I would not have cut off my ability to control matter in one go. I
would have done it in sections; a hundred and twenty-five sections to be exact.”
“That was how many stones were resting on you!” He suddenly looked down at my
stomach like he had realized something else. “How are you feeling?” “Fine. Greatrf
even.” His eyes traveled between my face and my stomach a few times before he
inclined his head. “I’ll check on you later.” Then he returned to the previous
subject. “The reason I would have chosen to cut my abilities into a hundred and
twenty-five pieces is that there are a hundred and twenty-five different kinds of
matter on this planet.” “Are you talking about the elements on the periodic table?
There are a hundred and eighteen.” “Don’t bore me with whatever scientists think
right now. There are a hundred and twenty-five unique forms of matter that went
into the creation of this wo

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rld. With each of the stones you aterf you gained the ability to bend that element
to your will the same way you can move individual cells in your body. The easiest
way is to learn how to manipulate all of them at once rather than to learn them
individuallyrf and I will teach you” He took me by the hand and led me back to the
second room. Once thererf he lifted me onto the altar. “Have you ever been
sacrificed before?” “I’ve never been butchered for funsies. If that’s what you
mean.” He looked at me earnestly. “Have you ever sacrificed yourself?” I
straightened my back. “I thought you didn’t want me to die?” “You’re absolutely not
going to dierf but the version of you that is human will be gone if I tell you the
secrets to manipulating matter. You’ll have the power to change anything around you
with a blink. Rain will turn back into clouds because you say so. You’ll have eyes
everywhere because the floorboards in a house will tell you everything you want to
know. Even diamonds wil

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l tell you their secretsrf” he said with the most seductive click of his tongue. I
leaned forward and rested my forehead against his. “I’m afraid it might be too late
to do anything else.” CHAPTER SIX All that Matters “The most unfortunate thing
about this situation inside your heart is that I will not be able to do a
demonstration for you of matter manipulation and you will not be able to practice
under my guidance. You will have to learn everything like you’re reading a book
and when I’m far from yourf you’ll have to put what you have learned into
practice.” The Other Christian briefly touched the tips of our noses together. “I
believe in you. You’ll do beautifully.” Stroking the side of my face to bring my
ear close to his mouthrf he began what he needed to tell me. “This worldrf” he
said smoothly. “Is fake.” I gasped. “What?” “The planet earth is fake.” “What does
that mean?” “It means that it didn't naturally exist in this place in the solar
system. It was moved here and terraf
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ormed.” “You did?” He chuckled. “I didn’t. I said I wasn’t the god of this world.
Another god did the heavy lifting. He moved dirtrf made continentsrf built
mountainsrf planted forestsrf dug streamsrf and made a planet where people could
live. This planet is not surviving here naturally. The balance of sunlightrf
breathable gassesrf waterrf radiationrf and magnetism is precarious. One tiny
variation and the whole thing goes up in flames. Like many other planets like
Earthrf it’s a place to train trustworthy people to become gods themselves.
Keeping the planet in order is the mission of the little gods who were born here
before they can move onto other worlds.” “So people like Pricina haven’t been doing
a good job caring for the planet?” “I don’t know about her specificallyrf but I do
know that no one is doing a good job caring for the planet at this very minuterf”
the Other Christian explained. “Was that your job?” I askedrf feeling a knot in my
stomach. “Yes. My assignment has been to resto

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re balance to this planet. If I had been able to accomplish everything I set out
to dorf I would have left already.” “Left and gone where?” “To terraform another
planet or to work on my own personal world. I’m not from here. I came here because
there has been a serious problem the younger gods couldn’t handle. Weaker gods are
supposed to take care of earthquakesrf tsunamisrf meteorsrf and anything else that
might wreak terrible devastation on the inhabitants who live here. They’re
supposed to practice caring for a whole planet. It’s what you do as a god before
you attempt to terraform one yourself.” “Those all sound like pretty big problems
to me. If you weren’t dealing with earthquakes and meteors then what kind of
problem do they call you in for?” I questioned. He scratched under his eye. “Earth
started wanting to flip its magnetic poles roughly five hundred years ago. It
needs to do so from time to time. For hundreds of yearsrf all I did was hold the
north pole where it should b

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e. Normallyrf it’s a job done by two gods. One controls the north pole and the
other controls the south pole. We didn’t have even two candidates for the task
among the little gods here. They thought I could do it alone because of my
greatness because of the other versions of me who have mastered concepts more
difficult than moving a mountain. I did as they asked and waited for a better
solution. The younger ones were supposed to be learningrf preparing to control the
polesrf but I can tell you for nothingrf they failed.” He sighed and closed his
eyes briefly. “I can feel it now. The north pole is all over the place. It’s
splintering. We’re relatively close to where it should berf but it’s not here.
Half of it is in Siberia and another fragment in Lapland. The other parts are so
broken and fuzzyrf that I’m not sure where they are right now. If it keeps
movingrf it could be devastating to the human population.” I glanced aroundrf
feeling like I should have been able to figure out that

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much by myself. “Waitrf then you know where Tombstone Mountain is? You know where
we are.” “I don’t know the name Tombstone Mountainrf but I know we are somewhat
near the place of a significant gold stream. I took most of it for myself.” “The
Yukon gold rushrf” I sputtered. I was further west than I imagined. “What happens
if the poles flip?” “We want them to flip. The problem is that they’re not
flipping smoothlyrf and the erratic movement and splitting of the poles cause
breaks in the earth’s magnetic field. Humans need the field to protect them from
solar radiation. I don’t know how far along you people have come technologically
since I was last flexing my muscles in the earth’s corerf but if your people have
come farrf it might cause a lot of damage. That’s not even mentioning all the life
that will be disrupted.” Thenrf it was as though he thought of something he hadn’t
thought of before. “Why are you so close to the North Pole? Why are you here? You
said you were kidnapped many

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times. What’s happening?” “Most recentlyrf I am currently being held hostage by
some of your ‘little gods’ and I have been chained up in an empty castle in the
mountains for months.” “Chained up?” “Literally. They told me I had to learn how to
get a metal ring through my ankle without cutting off my foot. I did itrf but I am
still a prisoner and that was how I ended up eating the rocks off your abs.” He
pulled me closer to him and kissed the side of my head. “My brave girlrf” he
whisperedrf sounding so familiar it hurt. Yetrf even though he held me so closerf
even though I felt warm in his arms and heard his words in my earrf I knew he
wasn’t really there. What I saw was a physical manifestation of himrf but I was
talking to information he’d hidden in his heart. That bit of him took on the
appearance of something I could understandrf his body. It was the same way his
heart looked like a shrine when it was actually a blood pump. “Do you know where
my body is?” the Other Christian aske

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d. I shook my head. “The lesser gods are panickingrf” he continuedrf his voice
raspy and clipped. “That’s why they chained you up and separated us. If we were
togetherrf there would be no reason for us to be tinkering around in each other’s
bodies. If we’re separatedrf we’ll go inside ourselves searching for a means to
communicate. They’re trying to get you to repair me and make us a real couple.
Most immortals who have shared body parts can communicate without tools.” Then it
made sense. That was how Brandon had contacted Pricina when his head was cut off
and both parts of him were locked up. He still had his bond with Pricina because
she was his wife. Considering her powerrf she could have gone to save him. Brandon
wanted me to go save him in order to get me closer to Christian. I suddenly hated
him a lot less. I looked at the Other Christian. He didn’t know anything about
Brandon. He was only thinking about himself. I chuckled. “You’re about to tell me
how great you arerf aren’t

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h hung open. He looked in my eyes and I saw the part of Christian that dared me to
be more. It was clear that part of him had never been an act. He spokerf “I’m
going to teach you everything I know about manipulating matter. What I’ve told you
so far is only the beginning. Then I hope I’ll be able to deliver your swordrf
forge an adequate connection between your body and minerf and I can return to my
body. If all these things happenrf we might be able to attempt to flip the poles
and restore balance. It is a very rewarding project because the new balance should
last at least two hundred thousand years.” Had I missed something? “Deliver my
sword?” He smiled. “The stones in your belly. They’re being forged into a sword.”
“I can’t fit a sword in my belly.” He put his hand on my stomach and then bent down
to place his ear against my stomach. “This isn’t a real place. You were not eating
stones. You were processing knowledge—too much knowledge for a person to take in
at once. I’ll help

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you process it. The part of me that you’re talking to right now is a part of me I
cut from my body. The rest of my body doesn’t know how to manipulate matter. I was
put here as a package for you to open. I’m sure you understand. Things in the Red
Forest take a shape you can understand. That’s why we’re in a building and you’re
talking to me… because I am a shape you understand. It’s very intimate that you
turned me into a man instead of a book or a download.” “I’m not sure I understand
what you’re sayingrf” I admitted. “The sword is not a swordrf it’s knowledge about
how to manipulate matter and how to send messages through particles between two
points. One point is you and the other point is my body. Once you understand
everything I dorf you can send a vast spectrum of knowledge across the air to me
and my body can accept it. Once that’s donerf we’ll be able to coordinate
everything we think and do in a way that is beyond humanity.” He paused. “In other
wordsrf we won’t need to b

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e together to communicate through our hearts. We’ll be able to tell each other
where we are and make plans to meet.” That meant he’d be able to rescue me and if
notrf I’d be able to do more than just make doorways. I’d be able to bring the
whole castle down. “Wellrf” he askedrf “are you ready to start becoming everything
I am?” “I hope sorf” I whisperedrf biting my lip. “At firstrf it’s going to feel
like you’re carrying every single diamond in Aladdin’s cave. The weight of the
knowledge will be unbearablerf but as you get used to carrying it and using itrf it
will become as natural as carrying the calcium that makes up your bones. Listen
well.” He drew me closer into his arms and whispered how the different elements
worked. CHAPTER SEVEN The Forge Inside Me If there had been a camera pointed at me
in the castle on Tombstone Mountainrf what it recorded would not have made much
sense. If the recording started in the morningrf it would show me asleep in bed.
By afternoonrf I would not have

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u willrf but I can’t teach you that. Haven’t you noticed that everything I’ve
taught you is how to deal with inert materials? Things that don’t move by
themselves and have no power to move on their own? I imagine one of the other
versions of myself can give you that knowledgerf but not me. I have no power over
living things.” I smiled as I listened to all this. He sounded exactly like the
Christian I had known. He didn’t know a hundred different facts about himselfrf
but he knew how to organize his surroundings to suit his tastes. Suddenlyrf he
asked merf “Have you ever been to the village of the people who never die—
Nhagaspir?” I shook my head. “Where is it?” He pointed downward. “Under us. It’s an
underground palace that moves from time to time in order to hide lesser gods from
the eyes of the world. It’s a place where they can monitor the planet and keep
things on track. You will need to go there when the time comes for us to flip the
poles. Doing it from there will be the most

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convenient.” “Why?” “Because there are lines of communication laid out throughout
the world and being there offers you a method where you can send messages down
lines of cooperative particles. It’s a seat of power. Howeverrf there’s no food
there. It’s about as flourishing as the middle of the desertrf so humans can’t
live there. Though humans have occasionally visited. They’re in awe of the beauty.
It was crafted by immortals with my kind of powerrf so it’s like the gates of
heavenrf but it’s not a place for humans.” The idea that I could thrive in a place
that is not meant for humans struck me suddenly. He had meant it when he said I
wouldn’t be human anymore. For some reasonrf I hadn’t completely believed him. “Am
I not human anymore?” I mumbled. The Other Christian was not in the mood to humor
any kind of remorse on the subject. “You can go back to being a human any time you
likerf” he said heartlessly. “How would I do that?” “You’d merely have to
consciously replace all the cell

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s in your body that belong to me with new cells. A human body replaces cells
regularly and flushes useless cells all the time. You’d just need to instruct your
body that the cells that make up my heart are bad. You’d eatrf drinkrf sleeprf and
slowly your body would throw away all the cells in my heart and replace them with
new cells of your making. After thatrf you could become human just by telling your
body to die. You’d lose control of the Red Forest and your body would age normally
again.” “Do immortal people make that choice?” I asked. “Yesrf but what happens
more often is that they lose control of the Red Forest without meaning to.” I
suddenly remembered asking Christian about the Red Forest in those precious hours
between leaving the compound and my kidnapping. I had asked him about the Red
Forest and he had no idea what I was talking about. He had fallen very farrf but
somehowrf he was still giving his body instructions and his cells were still
following them. After allrf he w

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as living without a working heartrf but a new urgency to find him was mounting
inside me. “Teach me more. I need to find you.” The Other Christian obliged andrf
over the days and weeksrf he taught me everything he knew. The world outside went
black and then one unknown hour at the top of the worldrf a soft glow appeared.
When he told me the last thingrf I knew we had reached the end. A heat had been
growing in my stomach with every word he said. When he told me the last thingrf it
completed a pattern that had been building in my headrf and the moment he slid the
last fact into placerf a terrible pain spiked inside me. I groanedrf holding my
stomach. “It’s timerf” he said. He scooped me off the floor in his arms and placed
me on the altar. “Don’t be afraid. It will hurt but when it’s overrf the rewards
will be great.” “Don’t let gorf” I gurgledrf reaching for him. The pain was burning
up my esophagus. “I have to stand behind yourf” he saidrf changing his position.
“Be strong. When it’s overrf e

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verything about this situation will be better.” He stood behind me and put his
hands on either side of my head. “When it hurts mostrf put your head back as far
as it can gorf and don’t mind my fingers in your mouth.” “I’m going to throw it
up?” “Not exactly. Remember to throw your head back. I’ll help you hold it there if
I canrf and I’ll guide you with my voice.” The next moment I was screaming. There
was a fire in my belly like someone had ignited a rocket there. Christian was
cradling my head. “You’re beautiful.” My eyes went wide. He continued and I caught
snatches of his words through my pain. “You’re beautiful. I’m nothing… merely a
collection of thoughtsrf but suddenly… you are so very beautiful.” I couldn’t
reply. I could only scream. His voice was in my ear. “Think of what you thought the
first time you saw me. What did you think?” I felt like I was spitting firerf but
I managed to go back to that often visited memory. “You were too much for me. So
handsomerf so much more th

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an I expected. You stopped my heart.” “And what do you feel toward me?”
“Obsessionrf devotionrf love…” “Excellentrf” he soothedrf stroking my cheek.
“You’re going to live forever. Your scream is beautiful. Go ahead and scream.” I
wasn’t human anymore. My screaming was like singing… like an angel singing. “Take
my handrf” he urgedrf clasping mine in his. “Hold on as tight as you wish. Soon
you’ll start coughing.” It was hard to say exactly what happened after that. I
screamed and all the pleasure I felt eating those stones was repaid with pain.
Then the pain deepened and it was as if every moment I had ever felt anything
positive with Christian was turned against me. Soonrf the pain was so great I was
paying for every moment I had ever been happy in my entire life. The Other
Christian put his fingers down my throat until I gagged. He put my head backrf so
it was hanging over the edge of the altarrf and held my forehead down with his
other hand. He began pulling something out of my throat

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e and down my throat. I let the water run and run because I could not go to the
Red Forest to repair myself. I could feel at once that it was impossible. If I
could have repaired this kind of injuryrf I would have done it while I was there.
The damage was too much for me to just wish it away. It was too much for my little
immortality… which meant what I had just gone through was worse than a bullet in my
brain. I had learned so muchrf but at that momentrf only one thing was clear to me.
I had taken a crucial step away from humanity. I looked at myself in the mirror
above the sink. The Other Christian was right. The painrf the sacrificerf the
knowledge that came with it… it had somehow made me more beautiful. CHAPTER EIGHT
The Sword Through the Mirror For three daysrf I was ill. I could not return to the
Red Forest and the only thing that brought relief was the water that I froze for
myself. I took a sip of waterrf froze it in my mouthrf and sucked on itrf allowing
the heat to melt it

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on my tongue. I sat in my bedrf repeating the process over and over as the water
slid down my burnt esophagus. From my bedrf I stared out over the window at the
mountain view. I tried to calculate how hard it would be to make a planet if you
were one person tackling the project one step at a time. Order these molecules to
make a mountain. Order this water to collect here. Move thisrf change thatrf and
alter the face of a planet. It would take millionsrf perhaps billionsrf of years to
accomplish. I sighed. That was what the science books said. I looked at the glass
bishop Pricina had left in my room. It was a far greater reminder of what I could
accomplish than anything else. Could I do something like that too? I looked at the
interior of the castlerf the disorderlyrf madcap slabs of stone that made up the
wallsrf and I realized they were disorderly because the lesser gods wanted to give
a person like me a chance to practice reorganizing matter. I ordered a few of the
stones in the wal

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l using angry looks instead of words and organized them into something resembling
a patternrf but it tired me. If I did thatrf I couldn’t freeze the water in my
mouth. No matter what knowledge the Other Christian had given merf I was still
very new at actually doing it. I was healing. My body was racing to healrf but
the damage was vast. I couldn’t speak. Sometimes I couldn’t breathe. There was
only the ice that I froze when it was on my tongue. It meltedrf but I froze it
again when it was in my esophagusrf and again when it was in my stomach. I felt
some relief. It could have ordered the melted ice back up my throatrf but
separating it from my stomach acid was a nuisance. It was easier just to drink
more water. On the fourth dayrf I was a bit better. I could croak out words and my
breathing was comfortable. I no longer felt like sucking ice chips and I decided
to try traveling to the Red Forest. I didn’t go straight to the heart. I went to
my throat and oversaw the repair work tha

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he stones. They were a pleasure to eatrf so there has to be an equal and opposite
effect.” I took a step backward. “There’s no way that the pain I suffered was equal
to the pleasure I experienced eating those rocks.” “It wasn’t just the pleasure of
eating them that had to be paid. It was also all the knowledge you gleaned. You’ve
practiced out in the real worldrf haven’t you? Moving stone? Shifting matter?
Speaking to water?” All of that was true. Perhaps it was an even traderf yet I
still felt somewhat cheated. “You could have warned me.” He tilted his head to the
side and saidrf “I did. It’s just that every time you gain somethingrf you lose
something else. This timerf whatever was capable of hurting felt it when you became
so much more. Please remember this rule and try not to call foul every time a
natural consequence crops up.” I groaned. “I hate maturing!” He waved to me to
come to him and I did. “You’ve been asked to mature much faster than… pretty much
everyone. I’ll let you

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complain. All you want. Go ahead.” “It really hurt! It took me three days to heal
enough so that I could come back here.” “Only three days! You good girl! I thought
it had been three weeks!” he exclaimed. I pouted. “Are you mocking me?” “It amuses
us both.” I stuck out my bottom lip. “What are we going to do with the sword now
that we have it?” I asked dullyrf still weak from three days of agony. “You’re
going to break the mirror in my chamberrf” he said with an adorable tilt of his
head. I took the sword in my hand. The Other Christian gave it to me with a grin.
It was the first time I held it. In a different worldrf he’d be a delighted
husbandrf handing his wife oversized scissors for her to cut the ribbon on the day
of her boutique’s grand opening. As it wasrf he was handing me a black sword and
asking me to stab a mirror. I did not feel excited in the least. I felt weakrf
depletedrf and sick at heart. He put his arms around me and positioned me in front
of the mirror. His hand covere

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d mine on the hilt of the sword. “Okayrf” I said. “I’m supposed to split the
mirror by impaling it? I get that partrf but what is supposed to happen after
that?” “I will disappear because you are sending my information to the real me.
You’re using your image in the mirror to indicate where you want to send the
information. When you stab the glassrf you need to stab yourself in the heartrf”
he said with calmrf measured words. “Stabbing myself in the heart seems like the
exact opposite of what I should be doingrf” I complained. “It seems sorf but
you’re no longer completely human and many of the things we do to accomplish our
means look like we’re about to commit suicide. We do it that way because they are
acts that are not normally performed by humans. We have to do things that remind us
that we’re not human or we might slip and allow ourselves to revert back to what
we were. After allrf we still look human. Besidesrf this is nothing. You’re
attacking a mirror imagerf not yourself.” I ag

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reed and wondered what acts of self-destruction I would need to do in the future if
I stayed on this path. The other Christian continuedrf “When I arrive on the
other siderf I’ll repair your heart and get it to beat.” “I thought you didn’t do
anything in the Red Forest because you only control inert matter?” “I don’trf but
when I arriverf I’ll be able to relay your command to heal the cells there. In the
same way you’re in my heart nowrf I’ll pull the blade through the mirror into the
halls of your heartrf completing the connection. Once I run out the door of your
heart into my Red Forestrf I’ll again become part of Damon Christianus. Christian
will remember me and the next time we meetrf he and I will be one person. The
mirror will become like glass and you and I will be able to talk through it and
arrange how we can meet again in person.” “You’ll pull it through?” “I’ll grasp the
blade of the swordrf cutting my fingersrf and pull it through. You forged it with
great pain and I’ll pul

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l it through with great pain. The joy we’ll feel at the end will be on the far
side of happiness.” He breathed fervor and fire. “Are you ready?” “No! Will there
be a version of me in the chambers of my heart when you get there?” I wondered
loudlyrf interrupting his rush to get started. “It’s unlikelyrf” he explainedrf
slowing down. “Unless you deliberately planted a part of yourself thererf then it
is probably empty.” “That sounds sadrf” I saidrf plumping my lip out in a pout. He
looked at me twicerf enjoying something about me before continuingrf “It may berf
but if we are very successfulrf by the end of thisrf all these broken parts of me
that sit around here like dumb idiots will step through the mirror and rejoin my
body. Thenrf these chambers will be empty too. Because I’m not actually supposed
to be here. I’m supposed to be with my bodyrf ordering matterrf and bringing down
the halls.” With the hilt of the sword between both my handsrf he crushed my
fingers between his. “I can’t wait to

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