Two Birds, One Feather: The Lives and Times of Lorewyn & Rhianyn in America

by C. J. Pearson

  Lorewyn was in position. She threw her voice, using a ventriloquism cantrip, and made it seem like an island fox was scurrying in the thicket nearby. As expected, the man darted a few feet to position himself to shoot at it if necessary. This brought him closer to where Lorewyn was hiding. She waited until he was in the right place, then…

  She fired a stunning shot from her Phase Bow, the energy missile striking him squarely in the chest. He slumped, his hand still on the shotgun. Lorewyn was already on the move, having sprung from her concealed position just as she had fired. She caught the man as he collapsed, his finger just about to close on the trigger. She grabbed his hand just in time, taking the gun and then allowing him to slowly fall to the forest floor. Lorewyn quietly lay the gun aside, then checked the man. He would be fine, just unconscious for a while. She removed his mask and hood.

  Lorewyn had known his voice sounded familiar! She recognized him.

  Billy Moreno, she thought. The Surfing Shark!

  She had followed the case following the incident at the beach. He had only done a year. Out now, obviously. Lorewyn sighed to herself.

  From stealing surfboards to kidnapping celebrities? Not exactly progress. But his partner… he wasn’t alone in this new venture!

  Lorewyn shouldered her Phase Bow and stealthily made her way back to the shack, where hopefully Rhianyn was handling the rest.

  Rhianyn was indeed handling the rest! The man with the pistol inside the shack with Dawn had just heard some sort of scratching near the door outside. He stopped and listened. “Billy?” he called out. No answer.

  He leveled his gun and crept closer to the door. Again, the scratching sound, followed by the screech of what sounded like an owl. The man suddenly threw open the door and aimed, expecting to fire at what he thought to be a bird.

  Not an owl, however… but instead the Raven!

  Three shots were fired from the pistol before the man was disarmed. The shots were rapidly deflected by the Elven Defender before the very same sword sliced through the air, slashing the man’s forearm. His limb wasn’t severed, thanks to Rhianyn’s exceptional finesse, but there was a sizable laceration from elbow to wrist. The man shrieked in pain, dropping the gun. Rhianyn was inside the shack instantly and had the man cowering beneath the point of her blade.

  “Are you okay?” Rhianyn asked Dawn, who was in the corner of the shack, still bound and gagged, with a bewildered look in her eyes.

  Lorewyn came running up a moment later. She saw the situation. There would be some clean-up involved, no doubt.

  “Better stun him as well,” she said. “At this point, the memory wipes are unavoidable.” Lorewyn raised her bow and fired another stunning shot at the now prone man. He slumped unconscious as well.

  “Yeah, I didn’t see any other way,” Rhianyn admitted. She walked over and helped Dawn to her feet, releasing her gag and bindings.

  “I don’t want to seem ungrateful,” the actress stated, “but who are you two?”

  Lorewyn just looked at Rhianyn and shrugged. “I don’t suppose you’d believe the Lone Ranger and Tonto’s twin sisters?” Rhianyn suppressed a chuckle.

  Dawn seemed amused by the comment, but suddenly her eyes widened and she gasped, looking at Lorewyn more intently.

  “Wait!” she exclaimed. “I do know who you are! But… that’s impossible! You died in a car crash!”

  Lorewyn turned back to Rhianyn, the amused expressions now faded. “I’m sorry, Miss Wells,” she said to Dawn again. “I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”

  “No, I haven’t!” Dawn insisted. “It is you! And the way you shot that bow… thing? I attended your archery camp the summer between graduating high school and starting college. I remember you! You’re Alivia Chambers, the stuntwoman! You… you taught archery after you left Hollywood! I can’t believe this… but, you died!”

  Lorewyn sighed, looking at Rhianyn. Her wife sheathed her sword again. “I’ll do the wipe on the guy outside,” she offered. “I take it you’ll want to handle Miss Wells and the other fellow?” Lorewyn nodded, appreciating the gesture. Rhianyn left the shack to tend to business. Lorewyn moved in closer to Dawn. The actress backed up, anxious.

  “Miss Wells, I’m sorry you just went through an ordeal like this, being kidnapped,” she explained. “I wish I didn’t have to do this… I really hate doing it. But sometimes it’s necessary. I can’t afford to have you remember this, specifically me, and our involvement in helping you.”

  “I don’t… understand,” Dawn stated. “What are you going to do with me?”

  “Nothing bad, I promise you,” Lorewyn replied. “You just won’t remember any of this. And neither will the men who kidnapped you. It’s unfair, I know. And especially given that they might not suffer any consequences for what they did. But they won’t remember their actions, and you won’t either. I wish there was another way.”

  She stepped closer, about to do what she needed to do, but paused. Lorewyn just smiled at the actress. She had the opportunity… she took it.

  “But thank you for remembering me,” she said fondly. “At least, the me who I was… It’s a me that can only exist now in memories. I’m glad I made an impact in someone’s life as Alivia Chambers. She was a good person to be. I hope you make an impact on a lot of people too, and that people remember you for a long time as well.”

  Dawn was about to say something else, but Lorewyn reached out and touched her hands to the actress’s temples. She lost consciousness. Lorewyn caught her and sat her down. She moved in, placing her hands on her head, and initiating the magical means of erasing her short-term memory.

  Forget… Forget…

  Billy Moreno and his accomplice found themselves in the shack the following morning, but without any idea how they got there. When they went checking for their boat, they found that it was gone. Their trek to Two Harbors on foot was less than pleasant. Did they even go through with kidnapping Dawn Wells?

  Dawn found herself back in Los Angeles, likewise unable to remember anything. Her husband had discovered a ransom note, but then an anonymous follow up note, written in different handwriting, saying that there was no need to pay, that his wife was fine. Filming for season two of Gilligan’s Island started filming soon after.

  Lorewyn and Rhianyn’s getaway to Santa Catalina had been cut short a bit, but neither of them complained.

  “I miss having adventures with you, Blackbird,” Lorewyn commented. “You know, getting into trouble, making a mess of things, solving problems, helping others. We need to do stuff like that more often.”

  “Aye, aye, Skipper,” Rhianyn grinned. “Or is it Professor?”

  CHAPTER 21

  The idea made sense to Rhianyn after Lorewyn explained it, but it still seemed kind of far to go for a movie night.

  “Think about it, Blackbird,” Lorewyn said. “The Great Race has been out for six weeks now, and most theaters in and around our part of Los Angeles have already stopped running it, making room for new releases. It’s a Wednesday evening, middle of the week. It’s the Norwalk Theater, meaning it’s out in the suburbs near Orange County. It’s still playing the film. But most everyone who wanted to see it has already seen it… and hardly anyone will be out seeing it on a Wednesday night… in Norwalk.”

  And… so?” Rhianyn was still waiting for the punch-line.

  “So…” Lorewyn concluded, “it means we’ll have a dark movie theater all to ourselves.” She offered her wife a seductive grin.

  Rhianyn shook her head, but she was clearly delighted. “You’re as bad as all those teenagers running around these days, Yellowfeather. Besides… don’t you want to actually see Tony Curtis, Jack Lemon, and Natalie Wood and follow the story?”

  But Rhianyn was excited to go see the movie with her wife, and Lorewyn was right… the theater was practically empty! A bag of popcorn and backrow seats later, they were watching the show, laughing like crazy at the pie fight scene, and even making out a bit during the slow parts.r />
  “Just like a couple of teenagers,” Lorewyn whispered to her at one point.

  They were reviewing the film together on their drive home. It was a hot summer night, August 11th of 1965, and Rhianyn had pulled the top down on the Ford Mustang Convertible she and Lorewyn had recently bought. It was a point of friendly contention at times, and they had worked out an agreement on taking turns driving the vehicle which they both had agreed was their favorite car they had ever owned so far.

  Tonight was Rhianyn’s turn.

  “I think I liked Curtis and Lemon better in Some Like It Hot,” she commented as they were driving up Firestone Blvd. heading home. “But Natalie Wood was definitely cute in this one, I’ll give you that.”

  “Oh, definitely cute, huh?” Lorewyn teased her. “Well, what if I said she was definitely cuter in West Side Story?”

  “She could’ve been cuter,” Rhianyn continued, poking her wife in the leg. “If she were blonde.”

  Lorewyn laughed. “Good save, my love… good save!”

  They were west of South Gate when Rhianyn happened to look at the Mustang’s fuel gauge. It was running low. She started glancing around.

  “We’re going to need gas,” she commented. “Not much around here on the main drag… I’ll have to go a couple blocks off and see what we can find.”

  She turned left on Avalon Blvd., both she and Lorewyn watching for a gas station. They drove several blocks, not seeing much. It wasn’t until they were close to Imperial Hwy that Lorewyn saw one up ahead.

  “There, pull in,” she said to Rhianyn, pointing to the corner. They were near the Watts neighborhood of Los Angeles. Lorewyn got out as they stopped at the pump. It appeared to be a self-serve station. She went around to start filling the tank.

  Rhianyn was watching an altercation that was happening about a block south of where they had stopped for gas. There was a California Highway Patrol motorcycle officer placing a young Black man under arrest. He had him cuffed and on the ground next to a 1950’s model Buick of some sort with its door open. There was another Black man, close to the same age, trying to explain something to the officer and a middle-aged Black woman getting frustrated at the young man who had been arrested, but also frustrated at the officer for not listening to her.

  Rhianyn continued watching as a couple other Highway Patrol cars arrived with their lights flashing. Then, she could see a tow truck approaching. It was dark, but she could see clearly, and it became very apparent to her that the street and sidewalk around where the incident was occurring was becoming filled with neighbors and others from close by, almost all African-American. The additional police officers were getting out of their cars and moving in. Voices were getting louder.

  “Yellowfeather,” Rhianyn said in an alarmed tone as Lorewyn was finishing with the fill and putting the cap back on, “something’s about to go down… right over there.”

  She motioned to what was happening. Lorewyn had been focused on pumping gas and hadn’t really been paying attention. A man from inside the station came outside at that moment, now keen on what was happening as well. Lorewyn handed him some money for the gas and proceeded to get back in the car with Rhianyn.

  At that moment, the woman, who was up close to one of the officers in a heated argument, got pushed and stumbled. The man who had been cuffed got to his feet to confront the officer who had pushed her and in turn was shoved back down. There was a shout of “stay down, boy!” from an officer and then the young man got kicked. The woman got up and along with the other young man tried to pull the officer off the man who was cuffed. Another police officer pulled a shotgun.

  And then… all hell broke loose.

  People in the streets started rushing to the defense of those in conflict with the police. There were gunshots. One of the officers scrambled for his radio, yelling for more backup. The crowds went hysterical.

  “Blackbird, we need to get out of here!” Lorewyn exclaimed.

  But Rhianyn was watching what was going on with terrified eyes. She stopped watching the minute Black pedestrians started getting gunned down.

  “Yellowfeather, you’re licensed to carry,” she reminded her, grabbing Lorewyn’s revolver from the glove box. “Those people! They’re getting shot… killed! We have to do something!” She started getting out of the car. Lorewyn grabbed her.

  “The police are on the scene!” she shouted. “What can we possibly do?!”

  “The police are hurting civilians!” Rhianyn shouted back. “We can’t just sit here and do nothing!”

  Lorewyn glanced over at the mayhem. It was escalating, rapidly. The block was becoming a war zone. She quickly took hold of her revolver, checked that it was loaded, then jumped out and opened up the trunk of the car. She pulled out her camera and a recording device. She gave the recorder to Rhianyn.

  “Come on!” she exclaimed, starting to run toward the scene. “You’re right, we can do something! Start recording! Describe everything that’s happening!”

  Her journalist instincts from years ago were taking over. Document!

  Rhianyn nodded and ran alongside her.

  Bricks and rocks were now being thrown at police, Molotov cocktails being lit and launched at police cars, vehicles exploding. Lorewyn and Rhianyn raced toward places where they could see as much as possible. Lorewyn had her camera out and was snapping photos, clicking frame after frame as fast as she could, trying to get coverage of what was going on, trying to document. Rhianyn had the recorder going and was speaking into the mic, desperately attempting to give a play-by-play with as much description as possible. The whole scene was in chaos!

  More police cars were arriving, sirens blaring… but the crowds were even more enraged and started throwing more things at the approaching vehicles. At one point, a police officer spotted Lorewyn and Rhianyn, two white women, close to the fray, with camera and recorder. The officer ran toward them.

  “You two!” he ordered. “Put those things away and get out of here! Can’t you see what’s going on?!”

  “Yes, we do see!” Rhianyn shouted back. “We saw it from the beginning! And we’re getting everything on film so those responsible will be held accountable!”

  The officer leveled his sidearm at the women. “I won’t say it again,” he demanded. “Get the hell out of here, now!”

  Rhianyn had moved the mic closer to catch what the officer was saying. He aimed straight at Rhianyn’s head. Lorewyn pulled her revolver and pointed it at the officer. “Back away from her!” she ordered. “You hurt her, you get shot! Police officer or otherwise!” The expression on her face was like stone.

  The officer was about to act, but at that moment a wave of people from down the street started charging in their direction. The officer saw the mob and started running. Lorewyn and Rhianyn tried to evade the oncoming storm, but the numbers were too great, despite their speed and agility. In a moment, they were surrounded.

  Lorewyn realized she had her revolver out and holstered it as fast as she could. The crowd saw the camera and recorder. They think we’re either police or reporters! Lorewyn realized, suddenly aware of their imminent danger. She thought back to when she confronted the angry mob of Humans in Olvenshire when Tristyn was arrested, and when she and Blythe stopped to help the caravan.

  This is quite different, she reasoned.

  The mob moved in on the two women, shouting. But at that moment, a young Black man jumped in front of them, waving his hands at the crowd.

  “No, no!” he was screaming. “They’re not the fuzz! They were helping… didn’t you see? They were helping!”

  Still, a few tried to attack. But the man threw himself in their way. Realizing something was off, a couple others in the crowd stepped in and began pulling Lorewyn and Rhianyn out of the mix, covering them.

  It took a minute, but both women were soon out of the growing path of rage. Lorewyn checked her camera. It had been damaged. But the recorder Rhianyn was holding was still intact and operating. The young man spoke to
the women.

  “Listen, I don’t know who you ladies are, or what you’re doing here,” he said, “but you need to get yourselves out of here now. With that gear you’re holding, and the piece you’re packing,” he motioned to Lorewyn’s concealed revolver, “plus the obvious fact you’re white… this ain’t a good place for you right now! Actually, this ain’t a good place for anyone right now!”

  “Thank you for helping us,” Lorewyn offered. “Thank you for risking yourself for us… a couple of white ladies.”

  “You were helping us,” he said. “I get it… when bad shit goes down, people get scared, angry, and they want to fight, scream, lash out at the man! But I can tell you ain’t the man… you ain’t the problem here.”

  Rhianyn nodded. “What’s your name?” she asked him.

  He stared at the recorder she was still holding… and that was still running. Rhianyn caught on quick. “Sorry,” she stated, turning the recorder off.

  “Reginald,” he replied. “But they call me Reggie. Reggie Moore. Now for real, you two need to get on home!”

  Lorewyn and Rhianyn watched as Reggie ran off. They both breathed deeply, making their way back to the gas station. The place had been swarmed already. Rhianyn realized in their haste earlier that the keys to their Mustang had been left in the ignition. The car was gone.

  “I really liked that car,” Rhianyn sighed.

  “Yes, I did too,” Lorewyn agreed. “But it’s only a car. I lost my camera tonight. We lost our car. And had it not been for Reggie, we might’ve lost our lives. But I’m trying to keep that in perspective with what the people in this neighborhood lost tonight, what they and others in similar neighborhoods have been losing for a long time now. When you think about it, we really didn’t lose much tonight at all. And maybe… just maybe we gained something too.”

  They walked together for the next several blocks, eventually catching a bus back to Venice. It had been a long night.

  CHAPTER 22