The Cat's Dowry and Other Short Stories

by Yvonne M Remington

  * * *

  She met Henry at the hardware store Saturday at 4:20 as agreed. As soon as she entered the shop, she saw old man Miller stocking the shelves. Miller was a throw back from the days when the small town hardware was the place everybody bought their electrical and plumbing supplies. Now with all the big depots in town, they came to him for the off-the-wall items that they needed right away or to support the old man, knowing it was a matter of time before he closed his doors. He didn't really need another person on his payroll, but he hired Henry for all the manual labor he could no longer do himself.

  She went up to him and introduced herself.

  "Hi Mr. Miller, I'm Mila, is Henry around?"

  "He's in the back, but you can't go back there, insurance purposes you know. I'll go get him. I think he's expecting you." Mila liked the old man, he was friendly and treated her with respectful, therefore he must be okay.

  "Hi, Mila. Boy, that's great, you're right on time. Say, Mr. Miller can I take a break. Mrs. Fairchild will be here in a couple minutes."

  "Sure, Henry, I won't need you for awhile. Go out back on the patio and when Mrs. Fairchild arrives, I'll show her where you are."

  "I gather he knows the whole story."

  "Yeah, I figured it was better that way. Shows I'm trying to get myself square."

  "I agree. Sounds like he doesn't have a problem with it."

  "Nah. He's cool. I think he likes me, though he would never say so."

  Mrs. Fairchild arrived promptly at 4:30 as scheduled. Henry introduced Mila. "Mrs. Fairchild I would like to introduce you to the best thing that has happened to me since the judge gave me probation instead of jail time. Meet Mila Liebovich. "

  "Why Henry that's wonderful. Mila, it's a real pleasure. How did you two meet?"

  "We don't live that far from each other and we had a couple classes together before I dropped out of school." Mila put her arm around Henry's waist and gave him a big squeeze.

  "I think he's the best thing since the world started putting peanut butter and chocolate together." She gave Henry an adoring look to add more emphasis.

  Their meeting was short. "Well Henry, this has been a delightful visit. I am so glad things are going well for you. I will see you next month. It was a pleasure meeting you Miss Libervich. I wish you both well."

  "I think that went well don't you?" Mila grinned.

  "Better than expected. You were a star. Now I've got to get back to work."

  "I do have a have kind of a favor to ask you." Mila said.

  "And what would that be? Hopefully nothing illegal." Henry was smirking.

  Mila punched him in the arm. "Don't be silly. It's not a big deal. I'll call you later." She left the store and headed home.

  Mila sat in her bedroom with the door closed jamming to the Night Flyers tape through her headphones and did not hear the knock on her door.

  June Marie, her older sister opened her door and shouted to Mila, "Damn, girlfriend, you're going to go deaf if you keep that up. Turn that noise off, please; I want to talk to you."

  Mila and her sister got along only when they had to. They were polar opposites and put up with each other over the years. When June moved out last year to move in with her boyfriend, her parents were mortified. Mrs. Liebovich with her strict Catholic upbringing would not accept their cohabitating without the blessings of marriage. Mr. Liebovich, being a ‘yes dear' kind of parent went along with whatever his wife wanted.

  "I wanted to let you know that Clyde and I are getting married next June. Thought that would be an appropriate month, don't you?"

  "It doesn't matter what I think. What to the parents think? Mila was only mildly interested in what her sister had to say. She was reading her English homework assignment when June entered her bedroom, and would rather have been reading than listening to her sister's chatter.

  "Mom couldn't be happier. You know this was her ultimate goal in having children. She'll want grandchildren next. Therefore, I wanted to let you know to be prepared. I'm having a rather large wedding and I will of course want you to be my maid-of-honor."

  "I suppose that means I'll need a dress and the whole works." Mila hated dresses.

  "Yeah, but you've got time to save up your money. We can try to save some money on the design if you like. I will be having one other bridesmaid so you will have to get with her and agree on it. Of course I will have the final say." June was not interested in saving money, she picked the most expensive clothes growing up and her mother would indulge her.

  "How big is big?"

  "Only about two hundred. Clyde comes from a large family."

  "I suppose mom and dad will be paying for the reception."

  "Yeah, some of it. They said it was no problem; they would start saving the money. They said they could borrow some money against the house if they couldn't get enough. I'm not worried about it. They will figure out something."

  "Great. It sounds like you have it all figured out. I guess there isn't anything else to say at this point."

  "No. just thanks. I'll keep you posted on the dates. Might be a good time to try to take off that extra ten pounds you put on over the summer." With that last statement, June left and Mila sat stone faced and cross-legged on her bed.

  She continued sitting in a trance-like state, going over their conversation. Not believing but knowing that it was fully within the capabilities of her sister to be that cold hearted. June Marie had always been self-centered and unfeeling to the needs of her family and this was another stake in the heart.

  She picked up her phone and called Jenna. "Hey, sis, I need to talk. I'd say, you won't believe what happened, but knowing my sister, you would."

  "Go ahead, tell me." Jenna had always been a good listener, making her a great friend.

  "June Marie dropped the bomb that she is getting married next spring and I am expected to purchase my own gown with all the works. In addition, of course it has to meet with her approval so you know it won't be cheap. That means that I need to find some money somehow. My meager babysitting jobs aren't going to cut it."

  "Have you thought of what you're going to do?" Jenna was knee deep in her math homework and had not given Mila's problems her undivided attention. She put down her books and tried to help her think.

  "I'm too distressed right now to think. Let's talk about it over lunch tomorrow. I always think better after I've slept on a problem. Who knows maybe I will have a revelation in my sleep. However, if you have any suggestions, I need all the help I can get. I cannot put this on my parents. She is expecting them to pick up a huge chunk of the costs and I know they don't have it."

  "I will see what I can do. Talk to you at lunch tomorrow."

  After she hung up the phone, she called Henry. If anybody could come up with something, he could. He was a master of the money schemes. The problem was every time he tried to experiment with one of them, he got himself in trouble. It was as if he had radar on him and if he stepped out of line, there was the long arm of the law breathing down his neck. He could think up the schemes, he couldn't implement them.

  After discussing her problems, they decided to meet after school on the bleachers during football practice to discuss it further and come up with a plan. Mila was exhausted from the whole day's affairs, decided she couldn't do any more homework and needed to get some sleep. She studied yoga and meditation on her own, over the summer and took up the butterfly pose to try to clear her mind before retiring for the night.

  The next day brought no consolation for Mila. Her attitude was lousy and it seemed that the teachers were all out to get her. She met Jenna for lunch and they snipped at each other. Before lunch was done, however, they realized what was happening and decided to walk away from the problem, give it some space and regroup. They agreed to meet with Henry after school on the bleachers and maybe three heads would be better than two.

  Mila and Jenna met up after school
and walked over to the football field and the bleachers. Henry was already there and they joined them.

  They watched the practice in silence for a while before Henry spoke. "I hear the Bearcats are looking for some more good players. Their quarterback is okay but needs a lot of training; never played before, a transfer from Warren High."

  "If they don't get some better players, and get their stats up, it's going to be a miserable year for the school." Mila began watching the game with mild interest.

  "Yeah, Mila's been studying the rules, stats and odds with me. She's pretty good." Jenna gave her a friendly punch on the arm.

  "If you are good with stats, maybe you should take odds on the other team. You might not be popular with your classmates, but you could pick up some spare change." Henry gave her a sly look o let her know he was only joking.

  "Don't laugh, you two, I probably could. Who knows, I might do that. Henry, you know any bookies?" Mila was serious and showed it with her intense stare.

  "I do, but I wouldn't let you get involved with him. That's serious stuff, besides I was only joking."

  "But if I did want to put a bet on a certain team, you could help me?"

  "I could, but would I?"

  "If you pointed me in the right direction, you could stay out of the equation. I would never put you at any risk. All I want is a name."

  "I'll think about it."

  "Don't think too long. From what I've seen of Warren High, they are going to tromp the Bearcats at the first game. No joke. This is going to be a pathetic year for us."

  "Norm Lederman, works at the drive thru convenience store. Don't abuse it." Henry gave her a card with his phone number and name on it.

  "I won't, I promise. Just going to do it once to see how it works. I'm more curious than anything."

  "On second thought, he won't do business with you unless he knows you, meet me in front of the store at 6:00pm tomorrow and you and will meet him. He needs to know your okay before he will do business with you."

  That was the closest it got to solving Mila's problem. They sat and watched practice for another half hour then decided the team was bad and decided to leave the school grounds.

  Mila and Jenna headed for their favorite hamburger joint for a soda. "The general consensuses is that the Bearcats are going to lose, based on what I'm hearing. The odds were 4 to 1 with a 6 point spread against them last time I checked." Mila was listening to the conversations around her.

  "Are you really going to bet on that game?" Jenna said.

  "I am. Since you have been kind enough to explain all the nuances, the ins and outs the theory behind the statistics, I feel that I have the knowledge to predict, with pretty good certainty that Warren High will win that game." Mila was pleased with herself and didn't mind Jenna knowing it.

  The next day Henry introduced Mila to Norm. Norm stood about 5 foot 2 inches without shoes, strawberry colored crew cut trimmed hair, rimless glasses and a shirt that looked like he purchased second hand. He was extremely thin and fragile looking. He was not at all, what Mila expected.

  Mila put down her twenty dollars from babysitting and placed her bet. If she won, she would make a tidy sum; if she lost, she would have nothing. There was nothing to do now but wait.

  They met and watched the game Friday night together. As predicted, it was a slaughter. The Bearcats' lost by 10 points. The game was so bad that many people left early.

  "So when can I collect my money?" She asked Henry.

  "Tomorrow, if you want."

  "Suppose I decide to place another bet, say on next week's game?"

  "Norm knows you now; he'll do business with you over the phone."

  "I was hoping you'd say that. I thought it might look odd, showing up at the store all the time." Mila said.

  "When you are ready to collect, agree on a spot and time and you collect. He doesn't deal with just anybody." Henry always felt the urge to protect Mila.

  The Bearcats picked up-tempo over the next few weeks and there games improved. Mila spent hours going over their stats as well as stats of other high school teams. It paid off financially; she doubled then tripled her original investment. Her biggest problem was keeping up her studies for school. It was getting increasingly hard to juggle chores at home, schoolwork and social life. She was, however, pleased with her multiplying purse.

  Several weeks after her first bet where she doubled her bet and doubled her money, Bert Henderson, the captain of the Bearcats, approached her in the hall of her school between math and her study hall.

  'Hey Mila, we got study hall together, mind if I sit with you today?'

  "Sure, I was headed that way. See you there." Jenna walked up to hear most of the conversation.

  'What do think of that?" Mila asked Jenna.

  "I don't know, but I doubt its love." Jenna watched Bert as he walked away and joined his other teammates and a couple groupies.

  "Cute. You know he wants something, but what?' Mila was also watching the same scene.

  Mila and Jenna picked a table in the far corner that was empty. They barely sat down and spread out their books to look like they were studying when Bert and his sidekick Sammy sat down without a word.

  Mila stared at Bert and waited for him to make the first move. When he realized what she was doing, he spoke.

  "Word around school has it you`re pretty good with football stats and can pick up a few bucks doing it." Bert was trying to keep his voice low and was leaning into Mila`s comfort zone.

  Mila leaned in to match him. "Seems that word around the school may be guessing."

  "I don`t think so. That`s why I wanted to hear what you have to say."

  "And if it's true?" Jenna was so proud of Mila. She was playing it cool all the way.

  "I`ve been pretty accurate, so far. What is it to you?" Mila was getting her back up now. She was trying to figure out how the word got around and so quickly.

  ''I need to pick up some quick cash. If you can get me six to one odds on the big game on TV this week with a 6 point spread, you can keep 10% of the winnings." Before she could say another word, he shoved a fifty-dollar bill under her English book, got up and walked away without waiting for a response.

  "Now what are you going to do?" Both girls sat in silence while the tables around them stared hoping to be able to pick out some of the conversation.

  "I don`t know. However, he sure has ruined the rest of my day. That shoots my studying." Mila stared into space.

  "Can you do it?" Jenna asked.

  'Yeah, I can do it, but do I want to. I could return his money. He`s got a lot of nerve assuming anything."

  "And if you do it?" Jenna was concerned.

  "I have to review the stats first. I need to know what I`m up against. Come on, it`s time for sixth period."

  That night Mila got out all her charts, looked up on her computer, ran the numbers and realized that if she bet the way Bert wanted, she could pick up a quick $20. Now the question was should she? She made a call to Henry and as expected, his only comment was 'be careful'. She decided she was tired of being careful all the time. She would make the bet. She liked having spare bills in her pocket for a change. The wedding money already set aside, now she worked on a few luxuries for herself, like a new smart phone and Bluetooth headphones for her stereo.

  The game netted her the profit she expected. In addition, she collected her reward with grace. Bert asked her if she would be willing to do it again for next weeks' game. She hesitated and told him she would think about it.

  Before the day was over Madeleine Hart approached her from PE. She heard what happened and wanted to know if Mila would place a bet for her. Before she got home, Nelson Smart called with the same request. Unfortunately, Mila knew she was good and that she could make some quick money so she agreed. She told them though that she would not do it for anyone else, so do not spread the word. Before the week was over, she had ten clients. S
he hadn't done a lick of schoolwork all week and was getting further and further behind. Her mother was getting suspicious because new clothes were showing up in Mila's closest. As much as she disliked doing it, she lied and said that this girl at school gave them to her because she had gained too much weight. Mrs. Liebovich did not buy it but she decided not to argue with her for now.

  During the second week of Mila's new adventure Madeleine approached her as she was walking out of the school at the end of the day.

  "There's someone in the parking lot looking for you." She pointed to the visitors parking area.

  "Did they say what they wanted?" Mila and Jenna looked at each other sheepishly.

  "No, but he didn't look friendly. Said he wanted to talk to the chick that does statistics on games. Sounds strange to me." Madeleine had a reputation for being the smartest kid in the senior class, but Mila gave her this one.

  "Thanks, Madeleine. If you pass them again, tell them you haven't seen us. Jenna, what am I going to do? I don't dare go over there. Look, they don't look friendly. That SUV has the darkest windows I've ever seen. They probably aren't even legal. They don't look like cops. Come one, we're going to take the long way home." Mila grabbed Jenna by the sleeve of her blouse and headed her around the school buses.

  "I've got to take the school bus, Mila, mom expects me home early today to help her do some baking." Jenna protested. "I'm sorry."

  "Fine, I'll get off the bus at a different stop, if I see them. I know one thing; I have no intentions of talking to them."

  Once in the safety of her own bedroom, she called Henry. "I think I'm in trouble. There were a couple of men waiting for me at the school and they looked mean."

  "I'll do some checking with the locals. Something must be up. Norm skipped town. I hear he walked off the job and he hasn't been heard from since."

  "That doesn't make me feel any better. Call me back as soon as you hear something." Mila's voice was quivering.

  "Until I do, I want you to keep a low profile. No more bets and stay close to home and school. I don't think you should be wandering the streets until we find out who these guys are." Henry disconnected quickly while Mila still held the phone to her ear, sat frozen in place.

  Jenna called to check on her. "You okay, sis?"

  "Yeah, but I'm not sure what to do next. I'm staying home tonight and actually doing some homework. I'll see you at school tomorrow."

  The next day at school, it seemed that every one she passed in the hall was either staring at her or appeared to be whispering behind her back. Mila was not sure if she was right or it was her imagination. One way or another it didn't make her feels any better. She met Jenna in social studies during sixth period.

  "I still haven't heard from Henry. I hope he's okay. I'm not sure ‘no news is good news' applies in this case. She pulled out her phone and found a text message from Henry. "Stay close, nothing yet."

  When the dismissal bell rang, the two left the building and kept watching for strange men in strange cars. There it was the same car from yesterday, in the visitors' parking lot.

  "What do we do?" Jenna grabbed Mila's arm.

  "Let me think a minute." Mila saw the tall bulky man leaning against the black SUV with his arms folded Indian style. He was wearing aviator sunglasses and a bomber jacket that was out of place for the August heat wave they were having. His hair greased back in gangster style.

  "One thing is for sure, I don't want to talk to them. I'm not sure how to get away from them. Come on; let's head over to the bleachers. There is safety in numbers." Mila grabbed Jenna's arm and led her in the opposite direction.

  Football practice was ready to begin and the crowds were thin. The team was losing support every day because of the miserable losses they had sustained already this year.

  They picked seats as high up as they could get to be able to view anyone approaching. When practice was over, they had no choice but to leave. They felt certain that the men had left. Walking cautiously past the parking lot, not seeing the SUV they thought they were home free. Much more carefree they started joking and laughing until they got three blocks from the school and felt, they were home free. Jenna slowed down and without turning her head, said, "Don't turn around, but I think we are being followed."

  "Then we can't go directly home. If they find out where we live, we could be dead." Let's side track and head downtown." At the next corner, they turned left instead of turning right and headed in the direction of the business district. They did everything in their power not to increase their pace and give away the only edge they had at this point. As soon as they reached the hardware store where Henry worked, they went inside. Luckily, he was still working.

  "Hi, Mr. Miller, it's good to see you again. Can we have a word with Henry? We promise not to keep him long?"

  "Sure, he's over in the PVC section, stocking right now."

  The two walked over and greeted Henry. Jenna kept an eye on the front door. "Henry, they followed us from school. I'm afraid to go home. What should I do?" Mila was breathing heavily and her eyes started to mist.

  "Let me take a look out the front and see if I can see them. You both stay here." Henry went to the front window and looked out. He made it look like he was checking the display. He opened the front door and rearranged some wheelbarrows that were on the sidewalk. He straightened and looked up and down the street. Then he spotted the SUV cruising Main Street. Behind the heavily tinted windows, it was impossible to see the driver, but the brake lights tapped frequently. He spotted the license plate, committed it to memory and walked casually inside.

  "Leave by the back door. Weave your way home. Be careful and don't be followed. They are out there but it appears they do not know who you are or where you are at this moment. I got their license plate number. I'll make some calls. I know someone on the force who owes me a favor. Keep in mind that they could find out who you are at any time. It only takes one student to spill the info."

  Before they left, they each called home and tried to act as if nothing was wrong and to advise their parents that they were downtown and would be home shortly.

  The trip home took them almost an hour before they felt they it was safe. "Mila, call me if you hear anything, anything at all. This is a nightmare."

  "They are not after you, sis. We need to split up until this is settled. I do not want you involved anymore than you are right now. Tomorrow, we will talk by phone, but please don't come near me for now. Okay?"

  "Okay. But I don't like it."

  "No, neither do I, but that's the way it's got to be. I promise I'll be careful." Mila was sweating and had a volcano erupting in her stomach.

  Friday arrived and still nothing had been resolved. Mila decided that she had enough. She wasn't going to risk the safety of her family and friends any longer. After sleeping on her decision, she decided that if they were there today, she would confront them while on school property, to minimize the possible personal damage. There were no guarantees, but she feared for Jenna and Henry's welfare, not to mention her parents.

  The final bell rung for the day, she spoke to Jenna briefly before she left the safety of the front doors of the school. Jenna did not like the plan but agreed to go along and take the bus directly home and wait for her call.

  There they were, like fixtures that were supposed to be there after all those days. Mila's throat went desert dry and her stomach churned. She got her ‘mad look' on and thought ugly thoughts to get her in the right frame of mind. She would be damned if she would go down without a fight or a whimper on her lips.

  "I understand you've been looking for me?" Mila tried her best to sound like an adult with no fear in her voice.

  "Yeah, we got a message for you." The voice was low, throaty and threatening.

  "So, what is it?" Mila crossed her arms to match her opponent and tried her best to match his tone, without much luck.

&nb
sp; "Stop your operation now and no one will get hurt. You're stepping on peoples' toes."

  "Not a problem. It was just a school project anyways. I accomplished what I wanted to. You have my word that there will be no more bets. And I would like your word that no one will get hurt." Mila's only thought was, ‘oh, I must be watching too much TV.

  "You've got a deal." He got back into the vehicle and left the premises

  Mila turned her back to them, walked to the edge of the parking lot, and stopped. The SUV was long gone and the visitor's lot was empty of other cars. Tears proceeded to flow from her eyes without any effort and liquid ran down between her legs. She had never known such fear and hoped she never would again.

  She walked the long way home to give her time to absorb all that happened. She smiled and thought:

  ‘Oh my, that was probably the best performance of my short life.'

  The Sum of Who I Am

  "Today marks one year." Twenty-five year old Monica Younger was speaking aloud. No one could hear; it was more to convince herself that she wasn't losing her mind. Maybe there was an ounce of sanity left in her life. The anniversary was not a celebration, but a reminder that one-year ago that day the court acquitted Monica of killing her five-year-old daughter, Angela.

  The authorities found the child after six months and extensive searching, in a shallow grave deep in a nearby wooded preserve. An anonymous tip led the authorities to her body. The authorities could not find conclusive evidence to confirm the cause of death. Everything they had was circumstantial and her attorney got her acquitted. The process took over a year while she waited her fate in jail. Even after the trial, the people in the state of Indiana labeled her as "guilty" and tormented her with death threats and hate mail. In her estimation, "free" was too broad a term and way overused. She wasn't free; she would never be free.

  She did not know if she was guilty or not. She spent the year before her daughter's disappearance in a drugged stupor due to her heroin addict boyfriend. Her parents tried to get custody of Angela, without success. Monica believed this was why her daughter was dead today. Life would have been easier if they had stayed out of her life. There wouldn't have been the bickering, shouting and words spoken that could never be taken back. She stayed with the boyfriend out of spite and her parents knew this. Being a quiet child, Angela was always in the middle and disliked the upheaval of her grandparents interfering. She hated seeing her mother unhappy even more.

  The guilt, the tortuous fear for her life and the gap in her memory made her wish she was the one who had died and not her daughter.

  Screaming voices in her head kept her awake nights. They started while she was in jail awaiting trial. One of those voices she heard was her daughter calling her; "mommy, mommy, I love you," Those nights she would wake in a cold sweat, and would have taken her own life if she could have found a way.

  After the acquittal, the media paid her for several interviews, giving her side of the story and allowing her enough money to leave town. She took a map of the country and a pin, closed her eyes and stuck a city at random. The result was Littleton, Nebraska, population 13,000 as her destination. She purchased a package of hair dye, cut her brunette ponytail into a punk style and dyed what was left of her hair blonde. She packed her few personal belongings into a backpack and headed for the bus station. She told no one, especially her parents where she was going. This was to be a clean break. Maybe someday she and her parents could reunite, but she didn't have much hope.

  The bus station was as creepy as she suspected. People occupying the seats, as well as those waiting for buses coming and going, stared at her as if they recognized her. She doubted it; the blonde short hair and dark glasses gave her an entirely different persona. She asked the clerk about a one-way ticket to Littleton, Nebraska. The sour-faced old woman looked at her suspiciously. Her paranoia drawing her in deeper and her desire for flight mounted by the moment.

  "It won't be leaving till the morning. You'll have to change busses in Omaha." It made no difference to Monica. She bought the ticket with cash and found the most obscure seat she could in the hopes that she would not have to share conversation. She snatched sleep on a bench in the terminal until her bus arrived. Once she boarded the bus, she wanted to evaporate into the seat and make the world go away. She wasn't that fortunate. A man smelling of yesterday's drunk with a week's beard sat next to her and wanted to talk. After several attempts to engage her in conversation, the bus pulled away and she excused herself from her window seat retreating to the toilet where she stayed long enough to pretend to use it and then exited to find a window seat by herself in the less-than-half-full bus. She kept her face buried in the window. It wasn't long before she smelled the same stale sweaty body. She felt the thump as he plopped into the empty seat next to her.

  "Missed you, darlin'. I was beginning to think you didn't want to sit next to me." Even his breathe was foul.

  With the most evil stare she could evoke from the depth of her soul, she stared into his eyes and growled: "I didn't. I do not want yours or anyone elses company." She turned back into the window and listened as he slithered away. A brief smile crossed her face as she drifted off into her solitude.

  When she finally descended the steps of the bus in Littleton, she felt a panic attack coming on and wondered if she should get back on the bus and keep going. The town seemed so small. How could someone get lost in a town like this? There wasn't a building over two stories high. The wide streets displayed only a dozen cars. What had she done? She felt an emptiness inside her that could have swallowed her into oblivion.

  Okay, so maybe she would give it a couple months. There was no obligation on her part and she appreciated the western look. She was already here, and besides, she didn't have another map.

  She walked back to the humpty dumpty look alike behind the ticket cage at the station and asked, "Can you tell me where I can find a room for the night?"

  "Peggy Cook has a boarding house down on Second Street. She's clean and fair and doesn't mind peoples' business. She'd be my first choice. Down the block, turn right on Second Street. She's a block up on your right.

  She welcomed the walk after being on the bus so many hours. Five different people on the sidewalk greeted her as she passed. Friendly enough at least, she thought, until they knew the truth.

  The boarding house was a three-story building that looked like it survived the last century. Upon entering the unlocked front door, a plump, short woman who certainly must be Peggy Cook greeted her. With a shirtwaist dress, an immaculate apron and her silver grey hair pinned back in a bun with not a hair out of place she was right out of a 50's TV show.

  "Welcome, dear. What can I do for you?"

  "I would like a room if you have one."

  "Well I happened to have one, if you'd like to see it, come with me." She showed Monica to an upstairs room that faced the street. "Do you know how long you'll be staying?"

  "No ma'am it depends on how soon I find a job and whether I feel like I am welcome here." She hadn't meant to say that. Fatigue had taken its toll. It was more of a thought that she spoke aloud.

  "Well, I think we will get along just fine. Dinner is still being served if you'd like. Why don't you wash up and join us for a bite to eat." She handed Monica the key. "We'll finish our business in the morning. You look mighty tired."

  All heads turned when she came down to the table, but she was too hungry to care. A pack of crackers all day had not done the trick.

  Before she had a chance to enjoy the roast beef, potatoes, corn bread and greens, and the fixings to go with it, the boarders around the table started asking her questions, she did not want to answer. Where are you from, where are you going, what brings you to Littleton and how long are you planning on staying. She quickly excused herself and went to her room for the remainder of the night.

  She slept well that night. She opened the window to a warm soft breeze
with a hint of cow manure gently drifting in occasionally and permeating her room. The desire to keep a window open stemmed from her days behind bars. She did not intend to give up a habit that turned into a luxury. The next morning she woke to find papers shoved under her door. Along with her receipt, she found the boarding house policies and procedures. She showered, changed, and went down to the table before the food disappeared. All the boarders but one left for other commitments. Peggy Cook appeared as fresh as yesterday with the same bright smile.

  "Well you certainly look refreshed, dear. Come have some breakfast before it's all gone."

  "Thank you, Mrs. Cook"

  "Everybody calls me Peggy; it would please me if you would do so too. We're a small town with small town values."

  Before she could think about it, she asked:

  "Do you know if there is any place in town looking for help? I would like to stay for awhile, but I need a job. I'm otherwise just passing through."

  "Why, I believe I do. The donut shop lost a worker yesterday. She had to move home to take care of a sick relative. I don't know what she's looking for exactly, because I haven't had time to talk to her, but why don't you take a walk over there after breakfast and see for yourself.'

  "Thank you, I will." I'm not turning back now. She thought. I've come too far.

  "It's two doors down on the left when you get to Main Street. She opens early.'"

  Monica enjoyed her breakfast without anyone asking any more questions about herself. Being a newcomer must be hard in a town like this, she thought. It really wasn't their fault that the townspeople were so curious. How many strangers came waltzing through town wanting to stay and be a part of the scenery?

  She thanked Peggy, left the boarding house, and headed for the donut shop. The town woke to a warm sunny day. This was her first real look at the place she was hoping to start a new life. It was almost too quaint for her. The busy donut shop displayed no sign for help in the window. She entered and again all heads turned her way. She smiled her best smile and asked for the owner. The woman behind the counter stopped assisting a customer and greeted her.

  "My name is Mary. This is my shop. What can I do for you?"

  "My name is Monica Younger. I was wondering if you need any help."

  Mary looked at her with a curious stare.

  "Here, have a cup of coffee on me and wait at the booth over in the corner. When I get through here, we'll talk." Her gestures were smooth and inviting. Monica felt warmth emanating from her.

  When Mary joined her, she asked, "Any experience, Monica"

  "I worked in a diner back home."

  "Good, I don't ask questions, except one. If I hire you, how long do you plan on staying?"

  "I guess that all depends on the town. If I'm accepted, there is no end date. If I don't fit in, it won't matter."

  "Wow, that's prolific. I like your style. I think the customers, especially the guys, will appreciate that frankness. Let's give it a trial period. Say two weeks to see how it goes. After two weeks, we can extend a verbal agreement or not. Can you be here tomorrow morning at 5:30am?"

  That was eleven months ago. Now on a grey misty morning in November, she gulped her second cup of coffee and dressed for her walk to work. She rented a small efficiency apartment where she could do some cooking. The town accepted her and a few single guys in the county sought her out at the donut shop. She chose not to see any of them socially, but played up to their advances while at work.

  Making coffee in the morning seemed ridiculous to her, since she worked in a donut shop and could have free coffee anytime she was working. It was important to her, because getting up at 4:30am to arrive at work at 5:30am; she needed those first two cups to get her out the door and motivated to start the day.

  Mary's bright usual smile greeted Monica when she arrived that morning for work.

  Monica had a bad night with night sweats and visions of her daughter plaguing her sleep. They were less frequent since moving to Littleton; however, they would not go away for long.

  "Gee Monica, you look terrible. Out last night drinking were you?" Mary tried to be funny, but she could tell it wasn't working.

  "No but I wish I had. Then I would have an excuse for feeling so lousy" Monica put on her apron and put the donuts in the display case.

  "When you are ready to talk, let me know." Mary had tried in the past to get her to confide in her with no results.

  "Mary, you know you're my best friend and there are some things I have not been able to talk about. I'm sure you know I have a past and it's not pretty."

  "That is obvious. Even a fool could see you are a tortured soul. However, I know you will come to me when you are ready to talk. Friends don't push friends, unless it's for their own good."

  "Thank you, Mary that means everything to me." Preparations for the day were almost complete. Their first customer was always Ken Martino. Ken owned the auto body shop and came in to get coffee and donuts each morning. He made it clear he was interested in Monica and asked too many personal questions for Monica's liking. Sometimes, the way he looked at her, she wondered if he knew her secret.

  "Good morning beautiful, are you ready to take me up on lunch today?" He did have a nice smile.

  Ken was a kind person and Monica did like him, but her answer was always 'no'. He would be the one person who could wheedle her story from her before she knew she had done it.

  "You look like you could use a friend who listens. I'm a good listener."

  "Ken, when I'm ready, I will let you know, until then, I would appreciate it if we could just be friends." She was doing her best to be polite, but the urge to say something ugly kept coming up in her throat, lack of sleep didn't help-

  "You got it, sweetheart. I promise." He took his bag of donuts and went on his way.

  The day was pleasantly busy, but Monica found time to get Mary alone.

  "Mary, can you arrange to meet me in the park after dinner, the two of us, I need to talk."

  "Sure, I'll have the neighbor come over and stay with Jennifer for a bit." How does sevenish sound?" Mary's daughter, Jennifer, was 4 years old and painfully reminded Monica of her own daughter.

  Monica decided she could not stay in Littleton any longer and bear her secret. It was time to tell Mary the truth before she moved on. She owed her that. Ken was getting too close and she was feeling more uncomfortable around him. She liked him more than she cared to admit but was as scared of letting her guard down around him.

  The sun was sliding behind a thick gray cloud when Mary joined Monica on the park bench. There was a late autumn chill in the air and most of the park was deserted.

  "Mary, I've got to leave Littleton I can't stay anymore and deceive you. You're too good a person for that. It's not that I've lied to you. I am not who you think." She told her everything. Mary never interrupted. Dusk set in and the two continued to sit.

  "Have you ever thought of getting back in touch with your parents?" Mary asked.

  "Even my parents believed I killed my daughter. They said so on the witness stand. However even my mother's damaging testimony could not convict me. My parents made it clear that I was out of their lives for good." Monica said.

  "There wasn't a night that went by that the screams from other inmates also didn't keep me awake. They put me in solitary because those inmates threatened to kill me. When I was acquitted those threats and the ones from the general public for my life made me realize, I had to leave Indiana and find a new life, somehow. It was in jail that I was able to break my drug habit. Therefore, you see why I can't stay. The story will come out. The hate is still there and people still think I did it. I don't believe I did, but I was responsible for her, and I let it happen."

  "So, when do you stop running?" Mary questioned.

  "I don't know. I don't know anything anymore. I would like to stay. I really like it here. I could be happy here, but what you see is the sum of who I am."<
br />
  With tears in her eyes, Monica got up and started to walk away.

  "Stay, Monica," Mary called after her, "we can work this through together. I've lived in this town a lot longer than you have. I have faith in these people and believe they will stand behind the person they have known over the last year."

  Monica stopped, turned looked into Mary's eyes, and saw for the first time in a long time, a tomorrow.

  How a Prank Became a Crime

  The medium sized dust tornado twisted its way towards the three teenagers. The boys saw it coming and one my one jumped down from the split rail fence, first Carl then Skipper then Leon. A dust tornado could be annoying to a person's ability to breathe and see. They were more nuisance than threat to those who lived in ranch territory and avoided whenever possible.

  The boys walked side by side in the opposite direction of the twisters' path. It was otherwise a pleasant early Saturday morning in July. They would spend an hour or two together, plotting and planning before the sun got too high and made it unbearably hot and dry. The three made an effort to meet every Saturday morning, before their families were up and could dole out chores. The boys spent their free time, waiting for their senior year at Cattlemen High School sitting on that split rail fence dividing Skipper and Carl's family properties.

  Their union of friendship bonded out of necessity. The summer vacation played heavy on the social life of all the youth in the county and those who lived closest to each other formed a union. Carl was the oldest of five children and expected to take at least one of the older siblings with him if he left the ranch. He believed this was his parent's way of keeping him out of trouble. If he managed to get away without any of his siblings there was always a price to pay when he returned. Sometimes it wasn't worth the price. Skipper lived with his father a widower who liked to drink as a passtime. His only sibling was an older sister that went off to college the year before. Leon was an only child whose parents rarely spoke to him, let alone among themselves. There farm was automated and Leon's only chores were done quickly then his time was his own. His parents rarely knew where he was.

  As they walked, Leon asked a question to anyone who would listen: "Either of you going to the county fair next weekend?" Leon was the smallest in stature and youngest of the three and came off as the clown of the group.

  'If we don't have anything better to do, we will." Skipper was the joker of the trio and found humor in almost everything. They all snickered at his comment. "I wouldn't mind getting another free feel from that Snyder wench. She'll be there, I'll bet." Skipper's eyes rolled up and smiled as if he was picturing himself in heaven.

  "You mean you copped a free feel and didn't tell us?" Leon's had an obsession over girl's breasts and was now salivating over the conversation.

  "Yup, got one of her tits cupped right here in this hand." Skipper cupped his right hand and extended for both to imagine. "Quit your drooling, Leon!"

  "Just one, boy that's cold? How did it feel?" Carl experienced wet dreams over one of his classmates, Maggie Newton. He had known her for over four years and she finally let him kiss her last semester behind the bleachers after a game. He felt her breasts through his tee shirt; they were soft like marshmallows and the nipples like maraschino cherries. He felt that he made progress with her last year and was hoping to make her his girl this year. She flustered him so bad he couldn't think straight when she was anywhere near him.

  "Oh, it was marvelous. It was quick, but I don't think I'll ever forget it. It was soft, not too big and yet firm, if you know what I mean." Skipper signed.

  "What happened then?" Leon started playing with his crotch in order to shift his package in his jeans. He realized he was drooling and wiped his mouth.

  "The little bitch, she was teasing me. She giggled and then pulled her blouse down and ran away.' Skipper's smile disappeared. He didn't find that at all funny.

  "Where did all this happen?" Carl's curiosity showed. Carl could picture his episode with Maggie under the bleachers.

  "Behind the feed store when we went in town for supplies. It was as if she baited me, hooked me in, and caught me a then let me go. Just like a damn fish." Skipper picked up a stone and tossed it at a rabbit that hopped across their path.

  "What did you do then?" The boys were listening intently. Leon's eyes were bugging with lustful visions.

  "There wasn't anything else I could do. My dick was throbbing by then and I had to get it down before I could go back out front or the guys in the feed store would never let me live it down. Besides my dad was waiting for me, he can be cruel about such things."

  "We're not going to ask you what you did next. I think we know. In fact, please don't tell us. It would spoil the illusion." Carl knew the outcome and he didn't want to hear it, friend or not.

  "Yeah, then Dick Rothchild, from math class, tells me that she's going with some sports jock from Henderson County. I wouldn't mind getting back at her somehow." Skipper shuddered with disgust.

  "Don't think you can, partner. That's the way they are. Use you, abuse you then throw you away. Get used to it."

  "So why don't we plan on meeting there and see if we can find some mischief to get into." Leon announced.

  "That's a thought. If I don't find some excitement around here soon, I will have to manufacture some. Skipper came up with an idea. "I've got it, you know, I always wanted to get back at old man Whitehall for squealing on us last summer to our parents. You remember when we went swimming in that water hole he claims is his?" Skipper had a smile that would make the devil wonder what he was up to. "Let's steal one of his calves and turn it loose, say, in the high school?"

  "You're crazy. It's a great idea, but how are we going to pull it off" Leon usually went along with the other two mainly to be accepted by them. There weren't other boys in that area his age and Carl and Skipper accepted him with ease.

  "No, I'm not crazy, just lots of imagination. I'm in need of some excitement as much as you guys are..." Skipper's comeback was spontaneous.

  "I have to admit this one is one of your craziest. That's cattle rustling, and the law doesn't take kindly to that in these parts." Carl secretly liked the idea but didn't like what the consequences could be.

  "Yeah, but I know we can get away with it. I wouldn't do it if I didn't. I don't intend to keep the calf." Skipper thought he was impervious to authority. "Besides, we're juveniles and our families would pay to keep it quiet if something went wrong and we did get caught. But it won't." Skipper always had an answer.

  "So, you are saying we could get caught." Leon was also on guard.

  "Old man Whitehall doesn't know what he's got in that herd. He won't miss one calf. We would walk in with a bucket of grain, rope one and walk right out with it. If we were to get caught, which we won't, we will simply tell the cops it was a joke on old man Whitehall."

  "I agree old man Whitehall is a nasty old bastard who doesn't give a hoot about anyone but himself. He's so nasty he would prosecute us if we were caught out of pure spite. However, I have a scholarship on the line. I can't afford to get in trouble." Carl found himself torn between loyalty to his friends and his plans for his future. "If I lose that scholarship, I'll be living on that ranch the rest of my life."

  "I tell you what, we'll do a dry run tonight to be sure we got the layout and then Friday night will be the real thing. How does that sound?"

  Leon had been quiet during most of the plotting. "You're so sure that we can get away with it and I say it's stupid. How are you going to get into the school? My parents won't be so forgiving if we get caught."

  "Then maybe you should stay home Friday night." Skipper was getting surly. "If you want to join us tonight meet right here before dark we're going to do the dry run. If you still feel the same way after tonight there's no reason for you to show up on Friday night. Anybody can get into that school. I've already done it. Leave it up to me." S
hipper's confidence was infectious and the others smiled.

  "What if no one finds the calf and it dies?" Carl was genuinely worried. "I don't think I could live with that."

  "That's why it has to be Friday night. Saturday everybody will be at the fair and people will be going in and out of the school for supplies and working. I guarantee it. Now stop worrying."

  They went over the plan for that night. When they were sure that they had all angles covered, they went their separate ways until the designated time.

  Carl was the only one of the three who would have problems getting out that night. There was no way that he could tell his parents the truth, or even part of the truth. The real reason for their meeting could never be told. That would be stupid. The only thing he could do was to claim a headache and go to his room early. The rest of the family was playing games in the family room. The TV reception in that part of the county was almost nonexistent Internet was for the city people, not Carl's family. It was an expense that they were not willing to incur. He didn't have a cell phone. Didn't really matter, there was no service where he lived.

  The moon shone enough to get him to the road leaving their property and show him the direction to their split rail fence. He still had a couple cigarettes left in the pack from the week and decided smoking one now was necessary. It not only kept the mosquitoes at bay, it calmed his nerves and let the other boys know where he was.

  First Leon arrived and then Skipper shortly thereafter on his bike. "You couldn't get the pickup?" Carl was thinking that Skipper would have the pickup so they could do a real practice run.

  "Nah, dad had the keys in his pocket. I didn't have any reason to ask for them that made sense. But I did bring this." He pulled a six-pack of beer from his backpack. "But come Friday night, he'll be boozing and will probably stay in town and never know I'm gone. Sorry guys."

  "That beer makes it all better. Let's have one before we set off on our spy mission." They each popped a top and squatted down in a ditch beside the road where if a car passed by, they couldn't be seen. Not much chance of that. By now, the locals were secure in their houses waiting for the grass to grow.

  "Now what do we do?" Leon was shifting from one leg to another. "Without a vehicle, we really can't do a good mock run."

  "We've come this far, lets scope out the property and see what the Whitefield's do after dark. Find out some things about their habits. That way we can tell if we have anything to worry about." Playing detective was one of Skipper's favorite pastimes.

  "You are right, we probably should stake out the farmhouse if we are going to do this." Carl was feeling daring and ready to go along after a few swigs of beer. Leon was losing the built up tension and after the first beer giggled like a girl.

  "Man, don't you get mouthy now. Stealth is the key here. Your cut off until we are done."

  "Yeah, yeah, yeah, not a problem. I know what to do." He turned away from the others dropped his zipper and took a long leak. "Now I'm good to go." Carl and Skipper looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders.

  "Don't screw this up, Leon, or that will be the last beer you get from me."

  Suddenly Leon sobered up, "Man I've got your back. Let's get this over with before the mosquitoes eat us alive!"

  The Whitehall's were having dinner and the cows were still in the pasture. He didn't bring them into the barn each night.

  They peered through the window long enough to see the couple silently eating and decided between the group, that there wasn't anything else to see. They scoped out the barn, the road leading in and out of the ranch and decided that there were no other hands on the property to interfere with their caper.

  "Let's go. I think we've seen enough. I don't think he'll give us any trouble." Skipper turned and headed away from the farm. The others followed. The night bugs were tormenting the three rustlers and they soon gave up their viewing spot.

  Then it happened. Something furry with a cold wet nose nuzzled Leon's ear. He screamed like he was being tortured to death. The three of them went straight for the tool shed. They found the door locked so they headed for the woodpile behind it. The floor lights around the barn went on and Mr. Whitehall stood with his shotgun on the porch. He started down the three steps that led away from the porch and to the boys' horror; he headed straight for the barn. The tool shed was twenty feet away. Mr. Whitehall had a dog but it was so old he was no longer any good as a watchdog and stayed on the porch most of the time. The boys stayed in their hiding spot for almost twenty minutes with the bugs devouring their exposed skin. Mr. Whitehall did not find anything out of the ordinary and returned to the comfort of his house.

  "We'd better stay for a few more minutes to be sure he doesn't double back on us." Skipper remarked.

  Neither Carl nor Skipper said a word to Leon for the rest of the evening. They knew if either uttered a word, it would be in anger and they weren't in the mood. They were dirty, tired, smelly, and eaten up with mosquito bites. The beer buzz has long passed and they all wanted the comfort of their own beds.

  The night of the big heist arrived and Skipper found the battery to the pickup dead. His father had not left for town so he tried to use stealth and avoid his questions about his plans. After a few swear words, he grabbed the keys and drove off in the old Ford sedan used as a third vehicle for the ranch and headed for the rendezvous spot. Carl and Leon were there waiting on him. This time Leon swiped a six-pack from his parents' closet. They would never miss it; they frequently had beer parties.

  "What's this? Where is the pickup?" Carl was furious when he saw the sedan.

  "No problem." Skipper was on adrenalin high. He was the first to down half his contents of the can. "The pickup battery was dead and I didn't want to explain to dad why I needed it. We put the calf in the back seat with Leon, that's all. " Leon was not happy with this idea. "I don't like it. That's not the way we planned it. Any change spells disaster to me. Maybe we should call it off."

  "This is crazy, guys. We can't go through with this. Too many things could go wrong." Even Carl was on edge.

  "Drink your beer and relax. This doesn't change a thing. You're being wimps. Come on, where is your sense of adventure?" The only one feeling good about the plan was Skipper. The other two were grumbling all the way to the crime scene. The calf was in the pasture where they left it the other night. The herd stayed in the pasture for the night because the pasture was small. The moon was giving them enough light to see the outline of the other cows and stay close to the calf and away from the mother.

  "Crap, I stepped in a pile of shit." Leon shook his foot. Carl and Leon couldn't help but laugh. Leon was making a big deal over something that happens all the time to ranchers.

  "Suck it up, boy, we're almost there." Carl put a rope around the calf's neck, the calf followed them easily and its mother never made a sound. When they reached the sedan, they picked up the calf and put it in the back seat of the sedan with Leon as discussed. The calf didn't seem to mind; in fact, it thought Leon was his mother, licking his ear. The other two rustlers took the front seat. So far, so good. They had reason to believe they were home free.

  The moon hid behind a cluster of clouds and it was completely dark by now. The old Ford headed for the highway and on to the high school with their ill-gotten goods. They were so far out of town that here were no cars on the highway.

  The beer buzz allowed Skipper to drive and joke about the heist while all of them were feeling safe about their getaway. After driving only a short distance, Skipper looked in his rearview mirror and saw a pair of headlights gaining on them. Before he could blink twice, blue lights flashed. He heard his heart pounding and knew they were in trouble. It was a flawless plan, he thought....except for two unknown variables; none of them knew that the Ford had a taillight out nor that the sheriff was Whitehall's brother in-law and had a standing dinner engagement at the Whitehall's every F
riday night and left for home that night as the Ford entered the highway.

  Pirate's Demise

  It was the middle of July, the blistering sun was high, and the boys were bored and needed something to do. The lengthy hot humid days of summer made the Herrington boy's summer vacation uneventful and long. The same boys that waited impatiently in May for school to end now found each day unbearable.

  Another wind-up and a fast pitch sent the pebble-sized stone skimming lightly over the calm summer lake. Robby stood on the rocky terrain of the beach with one foot planted on a piece of driftwood to steady his balance. He paused long enough to pick up more stones giving him an uninterrupted pace of pitching.

  Robby's only dream was to be a part of major league baseball when he grew up and practiced whenever possible. He spent hours with his bat and glove. He would rather practice baseball than anything else in spite of his parent's academic desires for him. He had a brilliant capacity for math and they hoped he would take more of an interest in furthering his studies.

  His twin brother Peter could hear the stone skimming from his resting spot in the shade of the huge oak tree that kept vigil over the lake's edge. Robby outranked Peter by eight minutes, a fact that Robby used to his advantage whenever possible. A strawberry birthmark at the base of Robby's hairline distinguished the ten year olds. This birthmark identified the boys at birth and still used occasionally when the duo played pranks on the family or other children.

  The brothers were within shouting distance of their mother and the summer cottage. The cottage had been in the family for years, but only used on a regular summer basis in the last few years now that the boys were older. The cottage sat on the rim of Lake Oklawaha. A large lake in a chain of several other large lakes in the area and frequented by sportsmen from many miles away.

  Mrs. Herrington had enrolled the boys in swimming classes the year before at the local high school but Peter had skipped more classes than he attended and forced Robby to secrecy. It was not Peter's habit to disobey his mother's commands directly, however Peter has taken a strong liking to a redheaded girl that had moved into town and he escaped whenever he could to be with her.

  There had been minimal conversation between the twins on this lazy summer afternoon. Peter had been absorbed in a Mark Twain adventure book. He finished the last page put down the book and signed: "Boy, that Huck Finn sure was a lucky dude."

  "How do you figure that?" Robby lost his concentration, stopped his stone throwing to squat down near his brother, and give him his full attention. Peter perked up, shifting his body and sat straighter against the tree trunk. Zeus, the shaggy stray dog that adopted the boys the summer before, lay nuzzled against Peter's leg. The dog's head dangling over the boy's lap, taking advantage of all available pets that came his way. Zeus shifted his body to compensate for Peter's sudden movement.

  'No parents nagging him all the time, no-one tells him what to do. He didn't go to school and he didn't have an annoying older sister to make his life miserable."

  Peter made mocking sounds that sounded like their older sister, Meg's annoying voice.

  "What more could a kid ask for?" Because the impulsive Peter took an unplanned fishing trip the week before and neglected to tell his mother, he lost the privilege of leaving the family property until their father arrived for the weekend. Their father worked in the city and joined the family on Fridays. There were no other children vacationing nearby to invite to their cottage so both boys felt the pangs of the restriction. Their boredom grew like a 3D monster from one of Peter's adventure books.

  Peter and Robby Herrington were identical twins in every respect. One would not leave the other one behind, no matter what.

  "I've got an idea." Robby's eyes sparkled and his grin spread across his face.

  "Remember that neat raft, inside the old boat house, down by the abandoned Bates property?" He didn't wait for a reply. Robby's eyes grew large and his mouth opened to a perfect circle.

  "Let's get it out and put it on the lake. It needs some minor repairs and it will be seaworthy. "

  "Uh, Ua, no way! You think you're in trouble now. Mom and dad would have our hides. Don't forget, when you get punished I have to suffer too."

  The two remained deep in thought with an uneasy silence engulfing their surroundings. . Peter broke big twigs into small twigs and Zeus turned over on his back wanting to have his belly rubbed.

  Neither boy spoke until, without warning, Peter sprang to his feet and declared:

  "Come on, I can't take this any longer!"

  Robby jumped up looked at his brother and knew they were about to have their curfew extended for the rest of the summer. The two dashed towards the old abandoned boathouse about a quarter mile down the beach.

  "Last one there is a rotten fish" declared Peter.

  They found the remains of the raft last summer near the end of their vacation in one of their explorations. They had their reservations about disturbing it at that time, but discussed plans for what they could with it if they had some tools. Slightly winded, upon reaching the boathouse, the boys rested and began plotting their next move. Zeus formed a shadow several steps behind the mischievous duo.

  Based on the overgrown grass and overall neglect, it was obvious to the boys: humans had not invaded the boathouse since their last visit, with a great deal of effort and what muscle they could find; the two brothers dislodged the rusty door and exposed the aged raft. There were cobwebs everywhere. It was hard to breathe from the smell of mildew and dust. They found a hammer, and old rusty saw, a set of screwdrivers that had rusted from lack of use and a pile of rope that looked usable.

  With the few tools they found in the boathouse, they secured the boards and nails the best they could and were proud of themselves.

  Inch by inch they scooted it to the edge of the water. They stopped to catch their breath after a long series of grunts and groans. Peter spotted some weathered boards leaning against the boathouse walls that they could use as oars for their journey.

  "That's about all we can do without more lumber and nails. But, I think it will make a great journey on the open sea. What you think?" Robby was more confident than his twin.

  "I don't know, Robby, we might want to stay near shore until we are sure how well it holds up."

  "Not a problem. Let's give it a maiden voyage." Without hesitation, they pushed the raft into the water and summoned the reluctant Zeus to jump on board, then climbed onto the raft themselves. The makeshift oars were used to push clear of the beach and start them on their journey.

  "This is a great day for a sail, aye mate?" Roby roared in mock pirate style.

  "Sure is captain." The sun was high and when they started out on their adventure, there wasn't a cloud in the sky.

  Only moments into their maiden voyage, the clouds gathered in large gray clusters and the wind swirled the waves on the lake, tossing the unstable vessel.

  "I believe there's a mighty strong wind over yonder, mate." Robby pointed to the sky.

  The wind continued rocking the raft violently. The inexperienced pirates ignored the warning and continued rowing.

  'It's nothing. It will pass before it gets to us." Peter didn't want to appear worried but he had no intentions on giving up his adventure.

  The increased winds continued the rocking motion, torturing the aging joints of the raft. The two boys looked at each other and sensed danger. The waves increased and the clouds grew darker until the skies opened up and spilled their bulging contents onto the voyagers. Zeus lay motionless, whining in fear and waiting for his orders to abandon ship.

  "What do we do now?" Robby knew that the raft would not take much more punishment but he could still see the shoreline and felt he could swim if need be.

  Peter, who looked to his older brother for guidance, shouted over the thunder.

  "We'd better head for shore."

  Peter repeated his command over the thunderous noises that res
ounded from the clouds. The words barely escaped his lips when the raft gave way and separated into pieces.

  The boys and Zeus tumbled violently into the water. The waves beat against the three of them hampering their attempts to reach shore. Peter, due to his inability to swim, was making no progress. Zeus would not leave Peter while Robby maintained a steady progress towards the distant shore. Zeus, doing everything he could to keep Peter's head above water, but they were both tiring quickly. All that remained of the raft was a porous board that Peter clung to with all his strength.

  Robby continued to fight the waves with his long breaststrokes. The shore was growing larger and he kept swimming. Without giving it a second thought, he believed if he could get to old man Bernard's cottage down the beach from their place, he could get help. The old man (in reality he was more middle age than old) wrote novels and rarely went out during the day. The cottage they lived in was for working and removing the city distractions. His wife, Martha, spent the day in her garden partly out of love for nature, but also to give her husband privacy to work. She always spoke to the boys when they passed and sometimes had fresh baked treats for them.

  Exhausted, Robby finally reached shore; he turned briefly towards the water but could not see his brother. He knew there was no time to waste. Without allowing himself to catch his breath, his legs started again in motion until he found himself at the Bernard's door.

  He banged on the door and shouted above the thunder. "Please help me!"

  The writer was not far from the door when he heard the muffled sounds. Mr. Bernard answered the knocks reluctantly, due to the storm. The writer mumbled as he opened the door. The retired army captain did not encourage visitors and certainly was not expecting to see young Robby Herrington when he opened the door.

  "Good heavens, boy, what are you doing out in weather like this?"

  "My brother's in the lake. Quick, he's drowning."

  Without missing a beat, the middle aged recluse turned to his wife and said,

  "Martha, go get the boy's mother and meet us at the lake." Without hesitation, Mr. Bernard rushed to follow the frantic boy down to the waters' edge. Dressed only in work shorts the pudgy middle-aged writer jumped in the lake without considering the affects of the water or the storm. Mr. Bernard was a fair swimmer in his younger years. Out of breath but driven by adrenalin, he reached Peter, The log Peter had been clutching was gone and he was barely treading water and tiring fast. Zeus swam in circles around the boy but was also tiring quickly. Mr. Bernard reached Peter as he started fading under the water. He pulled the boy under his arm and swam to shore. Zues right behind them.

  Once on shore he laid the boy down. Peter's body was lifeless and his skin was turning blue. Mr. Bernard performed CPR effortlessly until Peter coughed and opened his eyes to see the crowd that had gathered in spite of the storm.

  Mrs. Herrington and Martha Bernard fought the pelting rain all the way to the shore. When Mrs. Herrington reached her son, Peter sat up and spoke,

  Mrs. Herrington knelt down next to her son, "Mom, I'm so sorry for making you worry" Peter said.

  Peter grabbed his mother and hugged her. They both cried tears of relief. The storm that arose without warning, left as quickly. The small group that had gathered looked upward at the sky and watched the clouds drifting south, leaving a rainbow behind. Amid their tears, the boys hugged their mother. Mrs. Herrington looked up at the rainbow and started laughing. The boys looked at each other sheepishly and joined their mother's laughter. They knew there would be reprimands, probably for the rest of the summer, or at least until their father got home, but they were ready to accept the consequences. They would promise to stay out of trouble, well at least until the next time.

  Living Memorial

  "Maude Johnson, I have never heard of such a thing in my life." Emily Lou Barker exclaimed.

  "Neither have I, but I think it actually makes a lot of sense." I came back eagerly with my opinion.

  "I think it's ghoulish, and I'm not sure I care for it at all." Emily stood her ground.

  "My dearest Emily, Fred is not really a friend of yours and you weren't invited, so I don't think anyone would expect you to attend." Our friendship spanned several decades and we both overlooked small indiscretions in the name of that friendship.

  "Good, because, having a memorial service for someone who is still alive is not my style."

  "I'll tell you what. I will send your best wishes to Fred. He is quite alert and can carry on an intelligent conversation." My long time neighbor lies in a hospice home and even though he does not appear to have any life threatening illnesses. Fred Weeks of Poseidon, Florida has simply given up on life.

  Fred is sneaking up on ninety years, but no longer enjoying living. His life has been full. Fuller than most people his age. He never married. He joined the navy at eighteen as the United States entered World War II. He worked his way up to becoming the ships engineer and served in The Korean Conflict. He served his time in the military then joined The Merchant Marines. He was a perfect poster person for the campaign to "Join the Navy and See the World."

  He once showed me a map of the world with gold stars placed strategically in places he visited. I was awe struck. The map was glittered with gold. There had to be hundreds of stars. The man was amazing

  It has been almost fifteen years ago I purchased the home next to his. I accepted a position as English teacher at Poseidon High School. My husband of twenty-two years passed on several years before and I no longer felt it necessary to maintain my four-bedroom home in Winter Terrace outside Orlando.

  I moved into my new home in July. Giving me ample time to adjust before I report to my new assignment. Fred's house appeared deserted. I thought it was vacant. Poseidon is a small community. It thrives in the winter when the 'snowbirds' are down. However, in July the heat and humidity drives people into the air-conditioning. It wasn't until November that Fred and I introduced us. He became a good neighbor. Quite friendly and likeable and certainly interesting. Each June, before hurricane season started he loaded up his pickup truck and headed for the upper peninsula of Michigan were he has a cabin. A primitive cabin, miles from town. He would then return in November when the snow started up there and hurricane season ended down here. It sounded like a perfect solution to me.

  Fred volunteered over the years for the sheriff's department. He was a charter member of their Voice program. Volunteers drive around in specially marked vehicles and patrol the area in search of possible emergencies. The residence of Poseidon knew Fred and he was well liked and respected.

  Fred came and went with the wind. He answered to no one. In his lifetime, he saved every penny he made, lived frugally and invested well. He was proud of the fact that when he was in the Merchant Marines and the ship arrived in an exotic port, he would stay on ship while his peers would go into town to party. I once fought the urge to ask the man what he was saving it for, but I never did say it.

  The only family he had was a niece and nephew, both living in and around Poseidon. The nephew Tom, being a professional fisherman spent most of the year on the water. When on land, his love of the bottle kept him without possessions and a loving family.

  Fred's niece Sheila was his beneficiary and legal caregiver. Now that Fred was nearing the end of his life cycle, he was getting crotchety and demanding. Senile he was not. Glaucoma had taken most of his vision. He took a fall off a ladder several years ago and broke a bone in his back. He had survived prostate cancer but is now on so many medications for pain that his body is breaking down. He takes one pill to counter the effects of another.

  He no longer can take care of his own property. The neighbors, including myself pitch in to help take care of Fred's place. The irony of this is Fred can pay handsomely for professional help but he feels that is frivolous and why should he pay when the neighbors aee so willing. He always bought second hand, repaired with duct tape and mended with glue.

  Only in the last six months did he gi
ve up his driving privilege. Those of us who knew him best felt hat this was when he really started to fail. He now has to depend on other people and this did not set with him at all.

  Fred expected Sheila to be his personal chauffeur and valet. She finished chemo for brain cancer a few months prior and struggled to accommodate Fred's wishes to the best of her ability. Being the recipient of his wealth, which by now accumulated to quit a tidy sum, she succumbed to his wishes.

  Those of us who befriended him the most, were the ones who felt his ire. There came a point that nothing pleased him. We tried to cook and bring him meals but he wouldn't eat them, complaining of one thing or another.

  Then came the hospital trips. He complained he couldn't go to the bathroom. This was actuality true. I took him once; Sheila took him once. The doctors would get him pumped up with fluids and nutrients and send him home, but he never stayed long because other than being cranky and old, here was nothing left for him.

  He agreed to assisted living. The place he chose was ill equipped to handle his needs and he soon ended up in the hospital again. He refused his medication and complained about the food, the people and the service. The doctors told Sheila if he didn't take his meds he would be dead within six weeks. Fred didn't care. The hospital gave permission, and they transferred him to hospice. Sheila was grateful. She was unable to care for him and her health suffered during his decline.

  While at hospice, I made it a point to visit Fred. It was a comfortable and cheery establishment. I spoke with Sheila who assured me he was in good hands. I wasn't sure why he was in hospice since hospice sole purpose is 'end of life'. Sheila indicated to me that the doctors approved it so it must be okay. That is when I got the call:

  "Maude, there is a living memorial service tomorrow at hospice center for Fred. I know he would be thrilled if you could be there."

  "Oh course I will. Is there any change in Fred?" I didn't know what else to say.

  "No. He's still giving the nurses a hard time." Sheila expressed in dismay.

  It wasn't until we concluded the conversation that I realized; I had no idea what a 'living memorial' was.

  A peer of mine from the school informed that it was a celebration of one's life before they die. What a nice idea, I thought. Not too many people can truly say their goodbyes in advance.

  I planned to visit with Fred before the celebration started, but true to my form, I ran late. I walked in to Fred's large private room to a host of military uniforms surrounding his bed. Fred wore his favorite hat, decorated with gold braid and displaying his military honors. He never went anywhere without it. His face beamed with joy. His vision allowed him shapes and shadows only, but his keen mind allowed him the pleasure of comprehension.

  Sheila sat in a chair nearest him, holding his bony, ice-cold hand.

  In a semicircle surrounding his bed, from left to right included the captain of the Poseidon police force, a sergeant from Hillsborough's sheriff's office, the dispatcher he worked with at VOICE in full dress uniform, a captain from the navy, one from the marines with an aide also in dress uniform and the regional president of the merchant marines. Several other civilian's I did not know lined the wall. It was standing room only,

  Each officer had an award, a special pin or a plaque for Fred, honoring his lifetime achievement. They presented a liberty lap blanket of red, white and blue, knitted for veterans I looked at Fred's serine face and the tears escaped my eyes without my control. Each person had his or her chance to say something. I had no need for words. I simply went over, took his hand, kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear "Thank you". A smile was all I needed and I got it.

  The uniforms left and a few of us stayed to talk. I promised to come back soon. That was the last time I saw Fred.

  A person can only stay so many days in hospice care. Fred exceeded his welcome and Sheila found a woman who cares for bedridden patients in her home. He lived almost two more weeks. The news was no surprise but I will miss him, with his death goes part of an era.

  One disconcerting thing I observed, when he died, the newspaper displayed the usual obituary but no other memorial service took place. Call me old fashion, but there seemed like something was missing. Maybe it was the usual and customary final tribute.

  Lucky Lotto Ticket

  Nelson Littleton arrived at his job washing dishes at a local barbeque restaurant every day twenty minutes before his shift to relax and check his lotto numbers after a draw. This morning he picked up the paper and checked his carefully selected lotto numbers. He checked them twice. 5,17,22,25,39,43. His mouth became a scorching desert, his eyes wide stared in disbelief and his hands went clammy and began to shake. His legs dissolved to putty as he grabbed a chair and sat down. Andy the resident cook entered the break room and immediately observed Nelson's distress.

  "Say, Nelson, you okay buddy?" Andy cooked for the restaurant for over ten years and befriended Nelsen, knowing he did not belong in the position of dishwasher. .

  "Yeah, I'm fine, why?" Nelson remained glued in place.

  "Cause you look like you saw a ghost, that's why." Andy sat down next to him. "Anything I can do?"

  "Andy, what would you do if you won a large lotto jackpot? I mean a really large" lotto jackpot. Like in the millions?"

  "Well, I'm sure everybody who buys a ticket thinks about that at one point or another. I don't dwell on it much. However, the missus and me would buy a bigger home and a new car. You know, stuff like that."

  "Thanks, Andy. What would you do if your wife didn't know how to handle money and you knew she would blow it all, say in a year?"

  "Gees, Nelson, I don't know. First off, the chances of winning are through the roof, second my wife is the penny pincher in our family, and third I guess I'd have to say I'd enjoy it while it lasts. After all half of it would be hers' to do with as she sees fit."

  "You got a point there, friend. Thanks for the talk. I got to get to work now." During his shift thoughts swirled through his head. It was real, no doubt, but what to do next.

  Nelson Littleton brought home his paycheck on Friday to his wife Diane except for the one-dollar lotto ticket he purchased. He did not tell Diane about this small purchase, knowing it would result in an argument. Diane argued over the littlest things. Nelson told her she would say the sun was shining even if it was raining. Once when he confronted her about this annoying habit, she denied it completely. He told her she obsesses over getting the last word. She denied that also. They seemed to be at odds most of the time.

  Neither Nelson nor Diane knew how to budget money. After he made probation for a conviction on accumulated traffic violations, jobs were hard to get and eagerly took the job washing dishes. They rented a singlewide mobile home in a rundown park and paid on a weekly basis. The children, Justin age 5 and Elaine age 6 wore hand me down clothes and played with second hand toys.

  Nelson knew coming into that much money would bring on new issues. Nelson did not like confrontation but Diane knew where to pick up when Nelson wouldn’t go. She had two sides to her duplicitous personality. Knowing Diane went through his wallet without warning, Nelson safely tucked the winning ticket in his locker at the restaurant. She said she went through his wallet to get money, but he believed she looked for any evidence to start one of her jealous fits.

  Diane's thick naturally blond hair and icy blue eyes and curvy figure won his heart over their petty arguments. Her complexion being nearly flawless needed little makeup to make her appealing. Before they were married, she turned down offers to model for area car dealerships and conventions in nearby towns because she wanted Nelson and determined to catch him and make him the father of her children. Once Diane had him, she soon became pregnant. He wanted to do the right thing by marrying her. Until then, Nelson considered himself a confirmed bachelor and a womanizer and though not handsome, he considered himself manly and rugged and enjoyed his freedom.

  Since he became a husband and father, life proved tedious. He loved
his wife, but he found that fatherhood brought out a protective instinct that he never thought possible. On school days, Nelson's shift ended in time to be there when his children got off the school bus. This was important to him.

  Diane worked on the opposite side of town as a nail tech at an exclusive day spa. She made substantial tips and they lived on those tips daily leaving nothing for tomorrow. Nelson rode an aged and self-repaired bike to work the three miles to get to the restaurant, allowing Diane the use of their ten-year-old beat-up sedan.

  Nelson finished his shift and biked home as usual the evening of his new monetary revelation. He met the children at the school bus went home to start dinner, help the children with their homework and start the laundry. Routinely, Diane would be along after her last client. Nelson was playing with the children when the phone rang and an invitation from the neighbors came to play with their children of the same age. "Hey kids, Todd's mom invited you over to play; you can eat early and go over for the evening." Shouts of joy came from the living room.

  Diane entered, later than usual, threw down her purse and product bag from the spa. She kicked off her shoes and plopped in the overstuffed easy chair in front of the TV.

  "Do you know a woman yelled at me and called Sheila out because she said I did sloppy work and refused to pay for a complete do-over?"

  "Is she a regular?"Nelson asked as he handed her a bottle of cold beer from the refrigerator.

  "No. Never saw her before, and probably won't again. Of course that means I'm out the sale as well as my time."

  "Tell you what, I've sent the kids to play at Bud and Georgia's for the evening meaning we've got some time to ourselves. Why not take your shower while I put dinner on the table then we can fool around awhile." He put his arms around her waist and gave her a passionate kiss.

  The evening went well; they made love and cuddled in each other's arms afterwards, until Nelson decided to bring up finances.

  "Baby you know we can't keep this up. The kids need clothes, I need work shoes, and the car won't last forever. I wouldn't mind, but your job is costing us more than you bring home."

  "I keep telling you that if I stick with Sheila she will make me a manager of her new spa. I believe her."

  "You've been saying that for months. The woman is using you. She is ripping you off. She takes way too much out of you for supplies and overhead." Nelson had reason to believe that Diane held back some of her tips from him. One of the other nail techs, Maria, had been friends with them until Diane double crossed her and stole a couple clients. Maria told Nelson to be careful that Diane wasn't to be trusted. Nelson couldn't put it out of his mind. It would be a good reason for her constant short checks.

  "We can't keep living on promises. We need help now. You know that I can't do anything better right now with the kids so young and me still on probation."

  "You don't understand. It's a cutthroat business and I have to keep up with the latest styles or I'm out. That spa brings in a lot of rich customers and we have expectations to meet."

  "If you are happy living like this, fine but you would do better going back to waitressing. You made more money."

  "No. I love what I'm doing. You'll have to be patient."

  "Tell the kids that." He turned his back to her and dropped the subject.

  The next day Nelson was quiet and withdrawn. He knew that no matter what he decided, Diane deserved half the money. Andy approached him and asked, "Say man, you act like you got the weight of the world on your shoulders, and do you want to share?"

  "Nah, I do have a decision to make here that is torturing me. You've heard the old expression, 'damned if you do or damned if you don't', well that's what's happening."

  "Sorry, guy, let me know if I can be any help. I'm a good listener." Andy went back to work and so did Nelson.

  The rest of the day went by in a blur. His choices kept running through his mind. The 'what ifs'. It is really all about the children. He arrived home and did the things he usually did, made dinner, fed the kids, started the laundry and waited for Diane.

  Diane walked through the door late again. "Had a last minute client that wanted the works and demanding."

  "Great, hopefully she gave you a decent tip."

  "No, that's the kicker, she stiffed me. Can you believe that?"

  "Diane, sit down, we need to have a serious talk. We have some decisions to make about our future together." He told her about the winning lotto ticket and they discussed what to do. They talked for hours but could not come together on a decision together.

  "Diane, do you want to split the money and go our separate ways?"

  "No! That's the last thing I want."

  "Then here is how it's going to be. You have handled the household finances for the last several years. I am not going to fault you. However, I will be making the decisions about the money and as long as we are married, I will take over running the finances and the decisions about the children's future. I appreciate your opinion but so far it has not helped us get ahead financially and I do not want to be back in this position in another year."

  "Yes, dear."

  Now You've Done It!

  Elaine felt a sense of foreboding. Of course the coffee pot dying, Miley the poodle getting sick on the carpet and Cherie, her twelve-year-old daughter telling her she wanted a tattoo for her birthday didn't help. It was the usual morning adventure in chaos. Sprinting out the front door, she heaved Cherie's books and briefcase into the rear seat of the ten-year-old Toyota Camry and headed for St. Mary's Academy, dropping Cherie off for class.

  She made it to the entrance to the steel and concrete entrance of Lighthouse Fire and Marine Insurance Company at two minutes to eight AM. Her boss Wayne Conklin, the Claims Manager was at a conference in Tampa and would not know of her tardiness. However, The General Manager, Clyde Deverioux had an eye of an eagle and didn't miss a thing. In the three years, since he came to power at the largest insurance company in Poseidon, Florida, he ran the office like a military training camp.

  Elaine excelled at her job and she knew it. She was more than a secretary; she was the manager without the title. However, Wayne was her advocate and friend at the institution. She has had several altercations with the establishment over the years but Wayne always pulled her through. Elaine's idea of honesty was to express her opinion, even if it wasn't wanted. Insurance companies were historically not the best paying jobs, though there was an element of security. As a divorced mother, she quite frequently found herself without enough money from paycheck to paycheck. Cherie's tuition, clothing and books broke any budget she ever set for herself. However, she was determined to provide her with the chances in life that she did not have.

  Her work sat in the "IN" basket and waited for her. She was not ready to tackle it. She turned on her computer and read her emails. It took a few minutes to get through the junk, separate what she needed to read and what required her immediate attention. She spotted the one titled "For Your Eyes Only". The sender indicated Lois Winter. Lois was her counterpart at the Tampa office. Lois knew everybody and all their dirty secrets. Elaine and Lois bonded early in her career with Lighthouse, for Elaine loved gossip.

  She quickly picked up the receiver to the phone on her desk and dialed 346, the internal extension for Lonny Hunter her comrade and co-conspirator in all things devious at Lighthouse. Lonny answered in his usual jovial tone. His joviality matched his appearance. Lonny was about the same height and weight as Elaine and had checks that begged pinching like a cute baby.

  "Lonny, you have to see this. I got an email from Lois in Tampa. This is going to knock your socks off."

  "Well girlfriend, what is it?" Lonny questioned.

  "I'm not going to say on this line, but can you get over to the printer outside your department and wait for something to come through. I don't dare email it to you since you told me Deverioux put a filter on the emails so he could view and retrieve them whenever he is in the mood.

  "Give me one
minute and I'll go over and wait for it. Will I know what it is when it comes through?"

  "Oh yeah. And don't let it fall in anyone else's hands. I'm not sure how Lois got this through, except she doesn't know about the filter or she wouldn't have sent it." She hung up and set up the printer for Lonny's send location on her computer. As she was ready to click on "Send", when Elizabeth Span from the file room headed Elaine's way.

  "Elaine, I need your advice" Tears were drippy down her cheeks, as she took a tissue and blew her nose." Lisabeth clung to Elaine as if they were best friends, which they weren't. Lizabeth asked her opinion on everything from men to clothes. She rarely took Elaine's advice nor asked her about important matters. Elaine considered her tight spandex clothes and gothic appearance a joke and found it hard to think of her as anything other than an unwanted monthly period. Between her and Lonny, they made fun of Lizabeth behind her back.

  "What is it Lizabeth?" She tried not to be annoyed, with some difficulty. She did still feel a certain amount of empathy for her. She was a file clerk and would probably always be a file clerk.

  "I've been seeing this guy Tommy now, let's see; this will be our third date. I like him, but not enough to commit to a steady relationship. Do you have any thoughts about how I can dump him?" Lizabeth was still sniveling.

  "Why are you sniveling? Is he that bad?" Elaine was annoyed but also curious.

  "No, my cat had to be put down yesterday, and I still miss him."

  "Lizabeth, I can appreciate how you feel about your pet. I have one also."

  "Oh, he was more of a stray than a pet, but he was so cute. He's been around for several months now, but he wouldn't let me pick him up. He got hit by a car."

  "My best suggestion to you is honesty. It works. Maybe not always the way you want it to. But you don't have to remember any lies that way."

  "Gee, thanks, Elaine. I'll try that." She walked away with a smile on her face.

  Elaine's phone rang. Lonny was on the other end and wanted to let her know that the print job has not come through.

  "What do you mean?" Elaine looked at her screen and the horror was real. She sent the job to the printer in the typing pool by mistake.

  "Get over to the printer outside Angela's office and see if there is a photo there with a picture of Deverioux. Call me back and hurry." Elaine sat in place, still as a marble statue. She couldn't breathe. Now you've done it, Elaine thought. Her clammy palms answered the phone when it rang moments later. Assuming Lonny had the print, she anxiously answered: "Did you get it?"

  "Is that any way to answer the phone?" Wayne inquired. "Who are you expecting?"

  "Obviously not you. I expected Lonny from IT. He's getting some information for me. Sorry about that."

  "Okay, but keep in mind, this call could have come from a client. You were lucky. By the way, I called to tell you I will be in late this afternoon."

  "I sure hope you are right."

  "Excuse me."

  "Never mind. I'll see you this afternoon."

  She put the receiver back in place and took a deep breath. The phone rang again. This time Lonny spoke. "Dearest, I am so sorry, but I haven't found your mysterious printout yet. My boss summoned me back to the cave. I really have to run."

  She hung up without saying a word. She had to think up a plan for damage control. Her job had been on the line in the past. If only she would think before she reacted. At 44 years of age, without a college degree or skills she wasn't going to make the money she needed to do better anywhere else. She was a good forty pounds overweight for her 5'4" frame with thick, wiry unruly dark brown hair. Her acne-pocked complexion required a good deal of preparation before she left for work. She refused to spend the money she didn't have on contact lenses, leaving her to require her thick glasses that she hated. She was not ready or willing to look for another job.

  The main office on the second floor has an open and spacious appearance. There were no cubicles. The managers' offices lined the outside walls. Elaine could see to the other end of the second floor. She saw no huddles of people or heads together in hushed conversation. Whatever happened to her juicy piece of gossip, it hadn't sparked awareness yet.

  Her phone rang. She answered despondently.

  "Hello". Lonny was on the other end.

  "My boss is in conference. Now, would you please tell me what's going on? I'm climaxing with curiosity, friend."

  "Now I've done it. I could lose my job over this if it gets out." She kept her eye on the office floor in front of her looking for any abnormalities. Seeing none, she continued. "I received this e-mail from Lois, as I explained. There was this picture of Clyde and Shirley entering a motel and another one showing them leaving. I don't know where she got them. However, she feels the same way we do about Clyde. She would have no problems with the pictures going public as long as it didn't come back to her."

  "What are the chances of that?"

  "Pretty good, and I will be the one to answer for it. I don't know who picked up the picture, or what their next move is, all I can do now is wait." Elaine looked up to see Shirley headed her way

  "I have to go. Clyde's secretary is headed this way."

  "Baby doll, copy your proof somehow and then get rid of the evidence. Keep me posted." Lonny suggested.

  Shirley stood in front of Elaine's desk and waited for her to finish her conversation. "Mr. Deverioux would like to know when Mr. Conklin will be back. I tried to get you on the phone, but you were busy and he needs the information immediately."

  Elaine did care for Shirley Whitehall one way or another. She was just another fellow employee. She didn't even blame her for her lack of good judgment in sleeping with a creep like Deverioux. After all it was rumored Shirley's husband was a real louse. However, jumping from one creep to another's bed didn't make sense to Elaine.

  "He called and said he'd be in the office this afternoon. Is there something I can do?" Elaine was trying to read her facial expressions for clues that something might be wrong but they weren't there.

  "No. That's it for now. Thanks." Then she was gone. Shirley is attractive Elaine thought. She had a Marilyn Monroe figure with a Donna Reed face. She did come across to her co-workers as cold and calculating so the gossipers felt she would take Clyde to the cleaners. The suspicions of their romance had been just that, there was no proof in spite of the gossip and even the men got in on the speculation.

  As much as Elaine tried to get some work done, her mind wasn't there. She figured that at that point she might as well send the email to her personal computer at her home. At least she will have some proof if she needs it. Then she deleted the one she was staring at. She made some business calls that she had scheduled and typed some letters all the time keeping her eyes out for anything strange within the bullpen. Nothing happened.

  Wayne made his appearance at 4:30 as Elaine was finishing her work for the day.

  "Anything exciting happening?" Wayne inquired.

  "You know this place, if anything exciting happened it would be front page gossip before the end of the day. It's been so quiet you could hear your heart beat." She knew her sarcasm was misplaced, but she couldn't help it "How did the conference go?"

  "Same as here. Boring. I'm glad to get back to my boring office. Go ahead and take off. We'll talk in the morning."

  Elaine was grateful for the small reprieve. At least away from the office, she could think and take her mind off that damn email. It didn't work. She snipped at Cherie and barked back at the dog. She got little sleep that night. Flashes of the photo and its' implications entered her fitful dreams. She had a dream that the police came and arrested her on the job for causing the murder of Clyde his wife. The next morning her restlessness showed black circles under her eyes streaked with red. She apologized to Cherie and put on extra makeup before she started out. She knew she couldn't stop whatever events she had initiated, but she sure would like to know in advance so she could prepare for them.

  As soon as
she took her seat at her desk, her phone started ringing. Wayne advised her that there would be a meeting in the conference room in fifteen minutes and all personnel must attend. The acid in Elaine's stomach churned and she could feel a heartburn attack coming on. She popped a couple antacids hoping to ward it off.

  She picked up the phone and Lonny greeted her: "What's happening?"

  "I can't talk now. Do you know about the meeting?"

  "No. I think it's only admin. Why? What's it about?" Lonny asked

  "I don't know, and that's what worries me. I don't know."

  "So, I gather there is no other information at this point about yesterday?"

  "No, and the suspense is driving me mad. I almost wish it would come out so it could be over. I'm not doing well with this suspense."

  "Call me after the meeting and let me know what's happening. Did you do like I suggest and make sure you have a copy of that email for your own protection?"

  "Yes. I sent it home. At this point, it doesn't make any difference. I think my goose is going to be cooked over this, one way or another."

  Wayne came out of his office and gathered Elaine for the meeting. They walked to the conference room together.

  "You look tired this morning Elaine. Are you okay?"

  "Oh you know the usual. I have two men after my body and I don't know which one to pick. Nothing of real importance." Everyone knew of Elaine's whit in the office, Wayne smiled.

  The conference room wasn't big enough to accommodate the 65 employees on the second floor. This meeting did not include IT, leaving around 45 people in attendance, so the meeting adjourned to the lunchroom. After everyone took a seat, Deverioux called the meeting to order. When he spoke, the room became silent.

  "We have a good group here for most part." Clyde's eyes looked directed at Elaine. Elaine got a flush down her body, her temperature elevating several degrees. She knew he disliked her and Lonny and would do anything to get them fired. "The people that work for me are dedicated and understand that a unified work force is the only way to be outstanding in our field. Of course, there will always be those who follow a different path and don't mind creating ripples or waves for the rest of the group. Yesterday there was some gossip spread around the office that will have negative repercussions for the people who sent it and for the parties on the receiving end. I have not personally seen this paper; however, it is only a matter of time before the entire devious scene plays out and someone will have to answer to me. It is my understanding that I am the recipient of the gossip. Let me be the first person to tell you that I have nothing to hide. Whatever this information is, I am asking the person or persons involved addressing me personally and we can get past this so we can go on with business as usual.

  I do not like this kind of foolishness that interrupts the workflow of my office. That is all I have to say at this time. There will be a further investigation to find out where this information came from, exactly what it is and who is involved. Is that clear?"

  A buzz of low-level conversations emitted among the people attending the meeting. The employees dislike his methods, but Lighthouse helped the economy of the town, and secured employees from nearby. Therefore, many of the people looked the other way and hoped that Deverioux would not be there forever.

  Wayne and Deverioux disliked each other but kept their feelings aside for the sake of their business relationship. Wayne walked over to Deverioux, shook his hand and though Elaine could not hear the conversation, she sensed it was business. She picked up her belongings and headed out the room. On her way back across the office, Madeleine stopped her.

  "So what do you think that was all about?" Madeleine was the insurance underwriter supervisor and had worked there as long as Elaine and friends with Shirley. Elaine put up with but did not trust Madeleine. She wondered if she knew more than she let on.

  "All about speaking in riddles. It would have been nice if we knew what he was talking about." Elaine was hoping to draw her you.

  "I guess he figures, if the shoe fits, if you know what I mean." Madeleine was grinning suspiciously.

  "I got a ton of work waiting for me. I guess it will all come out in good time." Elaine couldn't wait to get back to her desk to take more antacids. Her stomach was already a wreck and she felt a headache coming on.

  Wayne approached her at her desk on his way back to his office. "I thought you said things were dull in my absence. What was that all about?" She hated keeping things from him so she quickly thought and spoke, "That man is insane and they will find that out some day. You can't treat people the way he does and get away with it forever."

  "You didn't answer my question." Wayne knew Elaine's mind. He sensed she knew more than she was telling.

  "I wish I did know. There has been a heavy air over this place since yesterday. I don't like it." Elaine's phone rang and she was glad for the diversion. Wayne went to his office and left her to her duties.

  "Dear heart", Lonny said, "I wanted to let you know that Deverioux ordered a tracer on the emails and print jobs over the last week. The report will be ready within the hour."

  "I'm done Lonny. I can't undo what has already been done. Thanks for letting me know. I'm going to go take a couple aspirin." She hung up on him without saying another word. She sat perspiring from head to foot. She felt her make-up melting. Her daughter in school uniform flashed before her eyes. She needs a newer vehicle. She pays rent on her apartment based on her salary and her pay is adequate for her position. She would have to throw herself on Deverioux's mercy if possible. After all, all she did was send something to a printer by mistake. She could claim she was trying to delete it. Yes, she would lie to protect her job and her daughter's future. Oh god, what have I started.

  Wayne came out of his office and asked her to send out some correspondence and print a report for him. Good, she thought, now I have something to take my mind off this drama. Unfortunately, the work took minutes and once again, she found herself observing the office. Looking for signs. Any kind of signs that something was out of order. She could see Shirley and Madeline talking. Their body language seemed normal, but she wasn't sure. Deverioux's office door was closed. All other employees appeared to be doing what they were supposed to be doing.

  I T had a runner. That runner delivered and picked up work throughout the entire company. Sometimes it was an intern and when no one else was available, Lonny would run for the department. Shortly after 11:00AM, the intern dropped an envelope in Shirley's "IN" basket. This did not pass by Elaine's observation. It was not easy to maintain her calm demeanor, knowing that it could all blow up at any minute. Elaine was on the phone with a client, but still scanned the office for anomalies. Shirley picked up the envelope, knocked on Deverioux 's door, entered and closed the door behind her. Shirley remained behind the closed door for almost ten minutes. Of this, Elaine was certain. She was watching the clock. When Shirley left the office and returned to her desk, there was no indication of a change in her movements. She used the phone and maintained normal body language.

  Shirley finished her conversation and headed towards Elaine's desk. Elaine's eyes diverted to her computer to make it look like she didn't see her coming. When she stood before her, she asked:

  "Some of the secretaries and admin are having lunch at "Adam's Rib"; would you like to join us?"

  "Gee, thanks Shirley. When are you leaving?

  "11:45 so we can get in before the lunch crowd." Shirley responded.

  "Let me check and if I can make it, I'll be ready by then." Elaine's mouth went dry. Is this a set-up? On the other hand, can I learn more if I go and keep quiet? What do I do?

  "Sure. We'll meet you downstairs if you can make it." Shirley walked away. Why didn't she call me? Was she thinking she could tell by my face what I was thinking? Maybe I've already given myself away. Can I do this? Can I have lunch with these women and not give myself away?

  "Wayne, do you have a problem with me going to lunch with some of the
other women. I might be a late getting back?"

  "No, you deserve it. See if you can pump the women to find out what's going on with Deverioux and that speech of his." Wayne smiled. He refused to say anything negative about his associate.

  Lunch at a restaurant was not in Elaine's budget, but she felt she had to be there. She had to get a feel for the other women's knowledge. She can do this. She has had experience in being deceptive. She will put on her "game" face and be cool. It was all in the mindset. She was ready for a battle and this would be the first battlefield.

  At 11:40, Elaine popped a Valium, gathered her purse, and headed towards the front of the building.

  At the entrance stood Madeline, Shirley, Christina and Susan. The conversation on the way was cordial and nondescript. One of the women called ahead to be sure they had a table for five people. During the ordering process and most of the lunch, discussion versed away from the office. Elaine's Valium had kicked in and smiled and spoke in vague sentences.

  Then the drama unfolded.

  "Say, Shirley, what was Deverioux 's speech all about this morning. He had most of scratching our heads." Susan queried.

  "I can't say." Shirley was purposely being evasive.

  "You can't for reasons you can't tell us, or you really don't know?" Madeleine had no problem asking.

  "I would get into hot water if I said any more. Clyde was real specific about that."

  "How about if we guessed, would you be able to wink or nod if we are correct?" Christina inquired. Christina was usually the quiet one.

  "The fewer you all know about this for now, the better off you will be. I have to let Clyde take the lead of this. If you don't know what it's all about, that's good. It means you were not the person or persons involved."

  Elaine had kept conspicuously quiet to now; finally, she felt she had to say something. "It must be pretty serious, considering the tone he spoke in. I realize he's not the friendliest person around, but he had me sitting at attention."

  "The only thing I can tell you is: he said that if the person came forward that sent the photo through the system he wouldn't be as hard on them." Shirley added.

  "Shirley, we know you and Deverioux are tight, but that doesn't make sense. What photo? And why should a photo have him so upset?" Susan wouldn't leave it alone. Elaine resolved she would do best just to listen. The Valium loosened her tongue and she knew from experience that she could babel if given the chance.

  "There, I told you to leave it alone. I've said too much. Please, let's change the subject. The only thing I will say is that it's not over. Pandora's Box has been opened and I predict heads will roll." Lunch being over and the women were ready to head back to the office. The tension mounted between the women and they all agreed to leave the subject alone. On the return trip Madeline said to Elaine,

  "I think I know what the big secret is all about."

  Elaine turned to Madeline with wide eyes and gapping mouth.

  "You do?"

  "I do, and I'm willing to share, only because we've worked together for awhile now and I trust you enough to know you won't tell another living soul." This was more than Elaine could hope for.

  "Don't tease me. Tell me quick." Elaine was salivating.

  "Someone in our office sent a copy of Clyde and Shirley going into and coming out of a motel with a clear shot of both. Most people around here knew about the two and what was going on. The picture showed up on Shirley's desk anonymously. So let's face it. It won't be long and everybody will know. I personally don't think it's such a big deal. I think Clyde is more upset because someone used the printer to send unauthorized correspondence." They arrive at the office and Elaine regained her composure.

  "I would have thought that would have been something much worse, the way those two acted. Therefore, Clyde has the photo. Do you think the spouses know?"

  "I think that's what they are worried about. If they don't, they probably will before long. After all, someone had to have taken the picture. Knowing Clyde, he won't stop until someone's head is in a noose."

  "So as of now, no one knows who started this whole thing?" Elaine inquired.

  "Not yet, but it's just a matter of time. Personally, if he left it alone, it would probably go away faster."

  "Doesn't sound like someone should lose their job over it." Elaine was putting out feelers.

  "Clyde will find a way." Madeline remarked.

  Wayne was hoping for an update on the lunch but Elaine thought it best to keep her word to Madeline, at least for now. Lonny sent her an email asking her to meet her for break at 3:00pm for an update. She replied that she would do her best to be there.

  Elaine flew through her work and she saw the clock, it reminded her she agreed to be in the break room at 3:00. At the designated time, she did start for the break room, but her phone rang.

  "Elaine, this is Shirley. Mr. Deverioux wants to see you. Can you come right over?"

  "Give me five minutes." She had to come up with a strategy and fast. There was no reason for this meeting except to confront her. Okay, if this is the way he wanted to play, fine. She had reason to believe that he had no proof so she was not going to admit a thing. He is treating this charade as a crime and it isn't. The only one doing anything wrong is him and his adulterous affair. She'd be ready with a counterattack and throw everything back at him. She was ready for battle. She sent Lonny a quick email, advised Wayne of her meeting, swallowed two antacids and headed towards her battlefield.

  "Hi Shirley. What's up?"

  "You can go on in, he's expecting you." Shirley could not look Elaine in the eye.

  Elaine, with her head held high, shoulders back, entered the room where Clyde Deverioux sat, waiting for his prey. Elaine had never had a reason to enter his domain before this date. She was not disappointed to see a Spartan style surrounding with minimalistic decor and no personal pictures or trophies. Only his college degree hung on the wall. Next to his military accommodation for high honors in the Marines. That explained a lot.

  "Sit down Elaine." She did and did not waiver from her confidence. Even the framed military plaque did not move her from her mission. Her Valium was still working and she knew it.

  "Do you know why you were called to this meeting?"

  "No, but I have a feeling I'm about to find out."

  "Your sarcasm is not called for. I have reason to believe that you were responsible for sending a certain photo to the printer compromising my good name and reputation. I am giving you the opportunity to explain your actions."

  Elaine stared at him and did not respond.

  "Well."

  "What do you want me to say? Do you expect a confession? You haven't told me what the crime is, yet. On the other hand, if there really is one. Oh, and by the say, why do you think I am the "guilty" one?" So there, she thought. It's back in his ballpark. She waited.

  "You think you are so smart, and above reproach." He reached in his middle drawer and pulled out a folder, opened and pulled out the photo in question and placed it before her. "I want to know where this came from."

  Elaine picked up the photo and examined it. It took all her effort not to smile and then she saw Clyde's face getting redder and his eyes ballooning with hate.

  "Well there is no doubt that the two people are in the photo." she placed the photo down on Clyde's side of the desk.

  Clyde stood up, placed his hands on his desk and leaned in towards Elaine. His voice started to boom.

  "I want an answer and I want it now." He slammed his fist on the desk and stared at Elaine, his face distorted to a devilish hue.

  "There is nothing to tell. I don't know where you get your information from, but this is your problem, not mine. And unless you are ready to arrest me, I have work to do. Or do you have any basis for this accusation then great, but you still haven't proved that a breach of company policy has transpired, so clean up your own house before you try to clean this one." Elaine was on her feet and matching Clyde's angle of le
an.

  "Get out." He pointed to the door. "I'll have your job for this. As soon as I can prove you were the sender of this photo."

  Now she knew the man was delusional and she had him where she wanted him. "You know, I always thought you were an intelligent person. But sadly, I was mistaken. Whoever took this picture must know you or Shirley and that's the person you should be concerned with. I could care less about your illicit affairs. I have enough turmoil in my own life. You do what you think you have to do, but you don't scare me. You want a fight. Game on." She turned and walked out the door. Every pair of eyes on the second floor stared at her. She had no idea there voices had escalated to that point. She walked past all of them to her desk and turned on her computer. She knew that she would not be able to get any more work done this day, but she would make it look like she was busy. Wayne was on the phone. She picked up the receiver and called Lonny. It took a minute for him to answer.

  "I can't talk now' can you call me at home tonight?"

  "Sure. About 9 o'clock?"

  "Yeah." She hung up and by then Wayne was off the phone. He motioned for her to come in through the window. Elaine sat down across from him. She told him everything except admitting to being the recipient of the original email. She figured he didn't have to know and it might protect him in the end. He reassured her that she had his support, no matter what. In fact, her work and dedication would soon be rewarded with a substantial raise.

  He got a phone call he had to take so she smiled and left his office. The office was eerily quiet. People were ineffectively trying to ignore the uproar of her meeting. When 5 o'clock arrived, Elaine was more than ready to leave. No one spoke as they left the building or spoke directly to her as she got in her car and headed home.

  That night, Elaine recounted the meeting in detail to Lonny on the phone and remained him that he is the only one who knew the truth about where the photo came from and she counted on him not to tell. He assured her he would not. She made herself a double Scotch on the rocks and spent some quality time with Cherie before bedtime.