“Blackbird, I choose…”
She didn’t get to finish her sentence. Their Bonneville was coming around a curve, and the headlights suddenly flashed upon a deer standing right there in the road.
Lorewyn’s foot impulsively slammed on the brake as her eyes instantly returned to the road ahead, her hand flying off her leg and reconnecting with the wheel, turning it ferociously with both hands in an attempt to avoid hitting the animal.
The car swerved, the brakes screeching. The Bonneville fishtailed, Lorewyn frantically trying to correct it. There was only a segment of guardrail off the side, but as the turn straightened out, the rail vanished.
Lorewyn managed to correct the spin, the rear of the car bouncing off the rail. There was only a short distance of straightened road before there was another slight bend… with no rail.
The car was going too fast, and Lorewyn had just corrected from the first problem. There wasn’t enough time. The Bonneville raced off the ledge, plunging down into the rocky canyon below, more than a hundred feet.
The vehicle hit an outcropping of rock, flipped, then continued to drop, hitting a second section of ravine side, and proceeded to tumble down at an accelerating velocity. It was finally stopped by a slamming crash against a massive boulder.
The car exploded, bursting into flames, the sound of the blast echoing through the canyon and the sight of flames like a ball of Dragon fire-breath, lighting up the night.
PART III: OF PRESIDENTS, PROMISES, AND POINTED EARS (1960-1988)
* * * *
CHAPTER 17
The office building on the corner of Wilshire and 3rd in downtown Santa Monica wasn’t particularly aesthetic or eye-catching, and the businesses that had occupied spaces in the six-story low-rise edifice had remained fairly constant in the fifteen years since the end of the Second World War when the building was first constructed with little turnover. But to anyone driving past on the busy thoroughfare familiar with the sign, something different was noticeable.
“The country just elected its youngest President ever,” the man said, finishing the door sign on the inside of the building to match the one that had just been updated on the outside marquee. “I guess it’s appropriate that the same week Southern California gets its youngest private investigator ever as well… and a woman at that!”
The man, Alan Madison, was in his 40’s, tall with a crew-cut and a faint scar on his neck from an injury during his stint in the army. But his military service had ended with the end of the war, and his career with the LAPD as a detective had only endured a few years longer, cut short by a drinking problem, simultaneous with a divorce. But he had gone on the wagon and had been sober for the past five years, getting his license and starting a private firm. He had worked alone most of that time… until recently.
“I’ve never taken on a partner before,” Alan explained to the young woman. “But hey, Jack Webb had Ben Alexander, right? And it’s a new decade, new times. We got a young new President, a lot more young people it seems… you’re young too, and an old ex-fuzz like me needs a young partner to keep me in line with the new buzz… ya dig it, Daddy-O?” He offered his best James Dean-styled grin.
The young woman just chuckled pleasantly, shaking her head. “You might want to fast forward your lingo a bit to 1960,” she offered. “Like you said, new decade, right? And while I’m happy to keep you in line with the times… Daddy-O… I’m something of an old soul myself. But I’m very grateful for this opportunity to be your partner in the firm. I can put this training and license to the test!”
She ran her hand approvingly over the new sign that now read, “Madison-McKinley… Private Investigators.”
Lorewyn, aka Theresa McKinley, had completed her course at Santa Monica College just a few weeks before. The training had been easy, and she had earned her certificate in only six months. She had, after all, a millennium of experience working as a Constable! But the license was a requirement and that required the course and testing. At age 21, at least that’s what it read on the birth certificate of her new alias, she was indeed the youngest female P.I. in Southern California!
Finding the job opportunity with Alan Madison hadn’t been difficult. The seasoned investigator had used the training program at SMC as a recruiting tool. He had expounded upon his philosophy to Lorewyn during his interview with her.
“You always run the risk of getting a rotten apple if you go looking in the barrel. Get one off the tree instead.”
He had checked out at least a half dozen recent licensees before speaking to Lorewyn. But the young blonde woman had impressed him immediately.
“You’ve trailed your mark to his place of residence,” he stated, giving her a hypothetical scenario, “but you didn’t get a good enough photo of him. Now he’s at home, on private property. You can’t go peeking through the window for a picture. What do you do?”
Lorewyn considered for a moment, then answered. “Simple. Get a big box, wrap it up nice with colorful wrapping paper, ribbons and bows, put it right outside his house by the mailbox, ring the doorbell, then run and hide in a spot where I have a good view.”
Alan was puzzled. “What good would that do?” he asked.
“Everyone likes big boxes that look like presents,” Lorewyn explained. “What would you do if the bell rang and you saw a big present next to your mailbox? You’d go check it out, of course. The moment you’re on the sidewalk, you’re on city property. No expectation of privacy.” She smiled, making a clicking sound with her mouth to imitate a camera and pantomiming with her hands as if taking a photo.
Alan laughed, then spoke to the school’s placement specialist.
“She’s the one!”
Her credentials were all in order: background check, concealed firearm permit, and perhaps most important, liability insurance. She was ready.
“Madison-McKinley,” Lorewyn mused. “Sounds a bit like a law firm.”
***
Rhianyn hadn’t even considered a job in the State Park and Forest Service upon taking on her new identity of Julia Bancroft. She had only been hiking up around Will Rogers State Park north of Santa Monica. It was a two-fold reasoned hike. One, she just missed being out in nature, around trees and hills. It was scenic, unpopulated, and relatively close by. And two, she had been curious about visiting the crash site. She wasn’t clear why… maybe as a way to remember its significance? Lorewyn’s ’57 Bonneville had been completely destroyed by the impact and explosion. The charred remnants had been recovered by the highway patrol and the entire area searched. The bodies of former stuntwoman Alivia Chambers and her cousin, former pilot Antonia Blackstone, had never been found. They had been officially presumed and listed as dead within a month of the crash. Probate on their home and other remaining assets had been simple. A will was found, claiming that in the event of the death of one, the other would be sole beneficiary. In the event that both were to die at the same time, which indeed seemed to be the case, everything would go in trust to the California Department of Social Services for use in the Foster Care Program. The house in Toluca Lake was sold and all assets were liquidated, save one joint savings account with considerable holdings that was mysteriously emptied and closed the Monday morning after the crash. That was never explained, and those funds were never found.
But Rhianyn had been hiking in the area and had stumbled on a young couple who had gotten lost. Orienteering in the wild was second nature to the raven-haired Elven woman, and she helped the couple return safely to Backbone Trail Head. The park ranger was duly impressed and put Rhianyn in touch with the agency. Her time in the civil service from two decades earlier came in handy, and Rhianyn was able to qualify and pass the ranger test in no time. The ranger who had referred her was about to retire, in fact, so Rhianyn was given a position at Will Rogers.
Ironic, she thought. Working near where I supposedly died.
But she enjoyed it. She was able to be out in natural surroundings all the time. She got to hike, explore, gui
de, and get a break in general from being around people, at least large groups of them.
And at night, when the sky was clear, Rhianyn could look up at the stars… and that was one of her favorite parts of the job.
There had been no bodies found, of course, because no one had actually died. The car had just sailed off the road and had begun its steady plummet in free-fall to the ravine below. There were only a handful of seconds available to Lorewyn and Rhianyn.
Lorewyn had already proceeded to take hold of Rhianyn, sitting next to her in the passenger seat, and let go of the wheel in anticipation of the inevitable. Her foot flew at the car door, kicking at the handle and causing the door to spring open as the car began to descend. Without saying a word or offering explanation, Lorewyn tumbled out of the falling vehicle, her wife clasped tightly in her arms, much like she had held her as they were going over the falls of the Southern River as kids, long ago.
They were now falling alongside the car, only a second from hitting the rocky terrain below at full lethal speed. Lorewyn made a lightning fast mental estimate, then activated the spell. She and Rhianyn both phased.
She had learned it from Blythe, back during their time as immortal emissaries traveling realms far and wide. It was something Unicorns could do innately, but an Elf would have to learn it in order to use it properly. It was not a power imbued to her by the Mother Elements, and as such she had retained it when she and Rhianyn had become mortal again and exiled on Earth. Lorewyn had never used it before.
The phase shift was propelled by their downward speed. Lorewyn and Rhianyn emerged from the shift a moment later horizontally some thirty yards from where they fell. They phased back in directly on a rocky slope that led down from the road above. The slope had a fairly steep angle, and the two rolled together several more yards before stalling on a flattened-out portion. The car hit the boulder a second later and exploded. Lorewyn covered both hers and Rhianyn’s faces as bits of vehicle and rock went flying in all directions.
They were scratched, bruised, and in some pain from the ordeal… but they were both alive. For quite a long time, neither of them moved. Then, slowly, Lorewyn shifted her hold on Rhianyn to an embrace, and they lay there on the rocky slope together… both of them weeping softly in each other’s arms.
Lorewyn finally spoke, but it was only a whisper, her lips right up against Rhianyn’s ear. All she said was simply the conclusion of her sentence from before the car started spinning out of control.
“I choose us.”
They arrived home at about the same time, as was their routine. Lorewyn’s investigative cases occasionally required her to work nights, like on a stake-out. But Rhianyn sometimes joined her on these and was often quite helpful. And Rhianyn sometimes had duties after dark at Will Rogers… but those were nights she looked forward to, because in like manner, Lorewyn would sometimes join her. And while Ranger Julia Bancroft might’ve been “officially” on duty, she made the time to take her wife to her favorite places in the park… places that were rather remote.
They shared a small apartment in Ocean Park, just south of Santa Monica near Venice Beach. They were only a few blocks from the shoreline and could walk down to the beach easily. This was one of their favorite activities.
But it was a cool February evening in 1961, and it wasn’t exactly beach-walking weather. So, they made dinner together and stayed home, watching What’s My Line? It was one of their weekly staples, the truth being that in their previous incarnations, between the two of them, Lorewyn and Rhianyn had met a lot of celebrities at various times, and these people eventually found their way onto the popular game show hosted by John Daly. They would spend the half hour laughing at the responses, making comments about what they knew behind the scenes regarding the show’s guests for that episode, and enjoying each other immensely.
It was part of their daily rhythm. It was one of their choices… one of the things they did each day as an action of choice, a way of choosing each other. It had been something both of them had come up with and decided.
“We’ll make it a daily ritual,” Lorewyn had explained. “Every day, you and I choose something that’s about us… for us… it’s a way of reminding ourselves that we choose us each day anew.”
“Agreed,” Rhianyn smiled. “It can be something small and simple, a meal cooked together, a walk taken somewhere, a favorite show on TV, or going out to the Polo Field at Will Rogers Park after closing so you can shoot arrows at me while I practice deflecting them with my Defender… like we used to do. Just as long as it’s something we choose together, and that it involves the both of us.”
“It’s taken me a long time to understand this, Blackbird, but I think I’ve figured something out,” Lorewyn added. “Something about this realm. The Humans here, the people, especially here in the United States… they place so much value, so much identity, on what they do, not who they are. Such a big difference, don’t you think? And I got caught up in it. I became so wrapped up in Alivia Chambers as a Hollywood stuntwoman, my vocation, what I did, that I forgot about who I am… Lorewyn of New Sylestia and of Earth. Daughter of Sylvius and Velyxi. Your best friend, lover, and wife… your Yellowfeather… your S’trysthyl!”
They both laughed at her use of Rhianyn’s nickname for her. It was a nickname that hadn’t been used for quite a while. Lorewyn hugged her. “Thank you for helping me remember who I am, Blackbird.”
That was the last time they ever went four months between making love again.
They had finished watching What’s My Line? Rhianyn was about to set up the chess board for a round before they took reverie for the night, when the news came on with a special presentation from Washington D.C. that had been recorded earlier that day. It was a presentation from the President of the United States himself, John F. Kennedy! Lorewyn and Rhianyn paused to watch.
“My fellow Americans,” the President said in his crisp New England accent. “Over 30 years ago, our nation entered and endured a decade long period that we’ve come to know as the Great Depression. It was a time of unspeakable hardship on many, as people lost jobs, homes, even lives. While we can easily say that public works initiatives brought on by former President Franklin D. Roosevelt like the New Deal were instrumental in helping our country move through those difficult times, we dare not forget the individuals in the trenches, the workers, the fighters, the advocates, the common American citizen who was in fact not common at all in their desire to step forward and ask what they could do for their country, especially in a time of such great need. Tonight, my fellow Americans, we pause in this hour, an hour of greater strength and stability in our nation, to remember those heroes from generations past. Tonight, we especially honor one such heroine, someone who indeed fought in those trenches of need for many years, starting her work as a nurse and social worker in New York City, running a humble Mission on 21st Street during our country’s darkest days and nights, then going on to advocate for and organize efforts in helping women get jobs in factories and other wartime industry during the Second World War, eventually getting elected to the New York City Council, and then the New York State Senate. This amazing woman has spent the last three decades devoted to public service, helping the less privileged, fighting for fair housing, job opportunities, unions, equality for all Americans regardless of race or gender, and it all started with her in a building in Manhattan, serving bread and soup to the hungry, and making sure that people had a warm and safe place to sleep at night in the midst of chaos, suffering, and loss. For these reasons and others, as President of the United States of America, it is my honor this evening to recognize this extraordinary individual by awarding the Presidential Medal of Distinguished Public Service for 1961 to Miss Edie Kincaid.”
The President stepped aside as a woman walked onto the stage and into view of the camera. It was Edie Kincaid, now in her 60’s, with greying hair and wrinkles. But she walked as tall as Lorewyn had remembered, and her light brown eyes shone with the same conviction and
vigor.
Lorewyn gave a choking cry and placed her hand over her mouth as she and Rhianyn both watched the President shake her hand then place a medal around her neck. There was considerable applause from the crowd off camera.
“Miss Kincaid, is there anything you’d like to say to the audience and to those watching on television this evening?” Kennedy asked.
Edie stood there for a moment, humbled and honored, then slowly nodded. “Yes, Mr. President, if it’s okay, I’d like to just offer a few words.” She paused, clearing her throat and adjusting the glasses that she now wore, then proceeded.
“Over 30 years ago, when things looked dim and a lot of people didn’t have much hope, I said something to someone… someone who made a big difference in my own life and inspired me to go on and do much of what I’ve been able to do. I said that despite all the hardship, all the loss, all the pain and poverty that people in our country were experiencing at that time, I believed that one day, things would be different. Not just restoring our economy, but truly different… and for the better. Humankind would not remain in that place, that time in our evolution. We would grow, we would advance. We would find solutions to hunger, to war, to homelessness, to diseases like polio… which we in fact did find with the Salk vaccine. It would take work. It would take perseverance. But I believed it possible, and that those were days worth striving for! Mr. President, I still believe that. I’ve seen us come a long way in the past 30 years, but I know we still have a lot of work to do. I’m thankful we have a leader like you in office now, someone with vision who will help us take those steps forward. And although I might not be as young as I was back then, I still pledge to do my part in acting on that belief to help get us there… and I hope each and every person watching this right now makes a similar pledge in their heart as well!”
Two Birds, One Feather: The Lives and Times of Lorewyn & Rhianyn in America Page 19
