by Oliver Letz
The night before had ended with another slow motion ride through a wonderland of colored lights and ghostly architecture on both sides of the street. Lilly Ann had dropped off the visitors at their campsite with the promise to be back in the morning to help them get started with the collection of genetic code data. The events of the day had taken their toll on Taylor and his crew so they quickly retired to their assigned sleeping quarters and succumbed to the refreshing and life giving darkness of sleep, satisfied that they had made it this far.
The first shimmer of day light peeked reddish over the mountain crest when Taylor was awakened by the now familiar rattle of coffee pot and frying pan. Farmer was eager to get started and breakfast always seemed to be a strong argument to get the others out of their sleeping bags. This time he did not have to search the woods for partridge or quail eggs to cook up his specialty. To his delight a good fairy had left a wicker basket full of breakfast treasures in front of their camp during the night hours. He found large brown eggs, thinly sliced smoked bacon, sausages, butter, a jar of honey and two loaves of sweet crispy bread wrapped in a red and white checkered table cloth. He couldn’t wait to see the eyes of his travel companions when he would dish up this royal feast.
Minutes later the coffee was exuding its invigorating aroma through the camp and bacon sizzled in the pan. One by one sleep drunken faces appeared through the tent openings inquiring what all the racket was and why it smelled so deliciously this early in the morning. It was amusing for Farmer to see the grumpy mood dissipate as soon as they got a good look at the wonderful gifts that had been bestowed upon them.
“Ready for some eggs?” he greeted them cheerfully while with the skill of an accomplished short order cook he quickly broke the eggs into the pan.
“I didn’t believe I would be thinking about food for a long time after yesterday night,” Helen Spade spoke what everyone was thinking, “but this looks so good, I don’t think I’ll be able to resist.” She added with a laugh slapping her backside, “Bring it on kiddo, fatten me up.”
Now there was an icebreaker from an unlikely direction. Suddenly there was laughter and chatting and all of them were wondering about the strange place they had landed in. They discussed the events since they had met Lilly Ann on the highway and were excited about the promises of the upcoming day. Farmer and Spade had finished their preparations for cataloging the data they were hoping to collect. It turned out that Spade was quite handy with setting up a three-dimensional database that would allow them to keep all the scans neatly organized for the subsequent synthesizing process. Farmer had a hard time containing his excitement at the prospect of closely working together with Spade at least for the next few days.
They were just about finished with breakfast, licking their plates and slurping the last drops of coffee, well, Hunt was licking his plate, everyone else was being a little more civilized using bread to pick the last crumbs off their plates when they heard the unmistakable boom-whine-boom-boom-whine that Lilly Ann’s van apparently used as its main propellant force. Soon it flew around the corner gleaming in all colors of the rainbow in the morning sun coming to a screeching halt right in front of them.
“Did you save something for me?” Lilly Ann shouted while she hopped out of the vehicle, laughing at the embarrassed looks her question earned. “Just kidding, did you enjoy the breakfast? I asked Gretchen from the Huxley farm down the road to bring you some food on her way to the market so you wouldn’t have to starve this morning. So, what do you want to do today?” she asked full of energy.
Taylor could not shake the feeling that they had unwittingly been adopted into a new family. Neither he nor his companions did object to attention they received and the comfort this development provided for them.
“If possible, we would like to get started with the gathering of DNA samples,” Taylor took charge of the conversation, “Can you get us in touch with local farmers and growers?” Lilly Ann’s direct and easygoing attitude made it a lot less complicated to ask for what he wanted without the fear of offending her or scaring her away.
“Of course, I already talked to a few of them last night,” Lilly Ann replied, “and although most of them think you must be very desperate or a bit out of your mind trying to mess with genetics on such a large scale they admire your enthusiasm and are more than willing to help. Anything in particular where you want to get started, cows, sheep, pigs, horses, elephants?”
“You’ve got elephants here?” Farmer blurted out jumping off the rock he was sitting on.
“Ha, gotcha, just checking if you were paying attention,” Lilly Ann teased, “but if you are set on elephant, I am sure I can arrange something. Might take a while, though,” she laughed.
“That’s all right, ma’am, how about we start with cattle,” Farmer suggested, “after all I promised Mr. Taylor to have a steak named after him. Do you grow various breeds or did they blend together over time? Do you grow them separately for dairy and for meat? Are they held in stables or on pastures? Are they fed any supplements? What kind of veterinarian care do you provide for them?”
“Whoa, young man,” Lilly Ann tried to contain the flood of questions erupting in Farmers mind, “I am just the tour guide here. You need to ask the growers directly. If it’s cattle that you want we have to take a little ride out of town. Hop in, I cleaned out the back of the VW a bit so you don’t have to sit on top of each other,” she said with an impish glance at Spade and Farmer.
“Great,” now Taylor was getting excited, “get your gear and let’s see that we can get this thing rolling.”
The five of them boarded the van the same way as they had done the day before and with great noise they drove off. Taylor was surprised every time that the vehicle actually moved with that little engine laboring like it did.
“Do you want me to look at your car’s motor while the others do the DNA scanning? I am sure something can be done to make it run quieter,” he offered shouting over the noise.
“You mean this is not what it’s supposed to sound like?” Lilly Ann asked with a puzzled expression on her face, “This is what it always sounded like and it has been in my family for many years. It hasn’t been always as pretty as it is now, though,” she added with a wink.
Taylor rolled his eyes, “Yes, it is very pretty, did you paint it with nail polish?” He obviously did not recognize the great artistic accomplishment within the chaotic collection of colors and shapes. “And no, I do not think this is the way your car is supposed to sound. It will use a lot less fuel too if it runs better.”
“OK,” Lilly Ann replied with a gracious smile, “if it makes you feel better, be my guest. I am sure they have a bunch of tools at the farm where we are headed.”
Taylor felt a lot better about receiving their wonderful welcome and help now that he had something to offer to Lilly Ann in return. He just hoped that the ancient engine would cooperate with his mechanical prowess.
“Does this town have a name?” he asked.
“Flugerton,” Lilly Ann answered simply.
It was too cumbersome to carry on a conversation in the loud vehicle so Taylor settled into his seat to enjoy the ride through the valley. Lilly Ann glanced to the side at Taylor happy to see him relax somewhat. With his worries forgotten for a moment she saw the wrinkles on his forehead smooth a little and the character of his face softening. She liked very much what she saw. With a new found joy that painted a big smile on her face she went back to concentrate on her driving.
Frank Turner’s farm was the largest cattle producer in the valley. His family had lost count of exactly how many head of steer they owned since it was obvious to them that there would always be much more than the community could ever consume. The dairy section of their operation produced an over abundance of milk on their higher elevation mountain pastures that was processed into delicious cheeses and dairy products that were famous throughout the colony.
The main building of the farm looked like it had been
there from the beginning of time. Not only was the outside covered with materials and decorations that mimicked the surrounding nature, the expansive structure was built hugging the curvy slope of the steep hills on the sunny side of the valley. The roof shingles were covered in a thick layer of dark green moss, which helped to keep the heat out in summer and the warmth inside in winter. The place in front of the house and all the way up to the barns that stood aside was buzzing with activity. Men and women of all ages carried on with their assigned chores and duties in what appeared to be an orchestrated chaos. There was much talking and shouting and even singing and laughter and although it was obvious that work was being done the scene felt more like a Sunday afternoon at the carnival.
Lilly Ann stopped the car and shouted out the window, “Hey Frank, here come the Texicans!” she laughed whole heartedly at her own joke and turned to her passengers, “guys, if you want cows, this is the place.”
Across the place a middle-aged man looked up from the hooves of the horse he was about to inspect. Spotting Lilly Ann and her rolling canvas a big smile revealed an impressive mouthful of gleaming white teeth. He let go of the horse and patted him on the rump to let him know that he was free to roam and graze. Frank Turner was a tall slender man of at least six feet with a full head of ash blond squiggly hair that he unsuccessfully tried to contain under a wide brimmed straw hat. He grabbed the reigns of a big black and white spotted horse that was loosely tied to a close by fence post. He effortlessly swung his leg into the saddle and made his way over to the waiting van in an elegant trot.
“Good morning Lilly Ann, ma’am, gentlemen,” he tipped the brim of his head, “I had a herd of cattle brought down from the pastures this morning. It’s the best mix we could find on short notice but I believe you will like them. Pull the van around the barn, dear.”
He turned his horse around with a gentle gesture before anyone could say a word and lead the way to the back of the farm buildings. A maze of cattle chutes and fenced corrals stretched across a large area confining several dozen head of cattle of various ages, breeds and colors, male and female. The sensory onslaught was breathtaking in the truest sense of the word for Taylor and his friends. Only Tim Farmer did not seem to mind and eagerly jumped out of the car as soon as it came to a halt. Lilly Ann got out of the car and walked up the Frank Turner who dismounted his horse. He hugged her with his strong arms and lifted her off the ground.
“Did you come here to marry me after all?” he looked like a little boy on Christmas Day.
“Oh, I would love to,” she played along, “but I don’t think you could handle me. You would blow a fuse behind that philosopher’s forehead of yours trying to figure me out,” they both laughed and hugged again.
“Frank, I told you about my new friends from Texas,” she was a bit more serious, “this here is John Taylor who found my grandfather’s notes and decided to come looking for us. He says he wants better food for all the people where he lives, but I think he just wants to have a really good steak once in a while for himself. Terribly selfish, isn’t it?”
“Hey,” Taylor started to protest before Turner stopped him.
“Don’t worry John,” he said with a friendly jab at Taylor’s arm, “nothing wrong with wanting better for yourself, and if it benefits others, all the better. Never mind Lilly Ann’s teasing, she is holding out for a better man to come along, can you believe it?”
“So, who of you is the scientist?” Frank wanted to know.
“That would be Tim Farmer over there,” Taylor pointed him out.
“I sure hope he is an artist too and has a good sense of humor, otherwise that will be one boring cow he is going to breed,” Turner said thoughtfully.
He walked over to Farmer who was sitting on a fence rail contemplating the collection of animals before him.
“Good morning sir, thank you for your kind offer to help,” Farmer greeted.
“Morning cowboy,” Frank replied, “I figured you would need about two hundred and seventeen complete DNA samples to establish a sustainable gene pool. I selected prime specimen of three distinctive breeds to give you a better spread.”
Farmer was listening with eyes wide open. He pulled out Spade’s data pad and punched in some numbers.
“You are precisely correct sir,” he stuttered in disbelieve, “Do you have genetic research computers up here?”
Turner just laughed and tipped a finger to his forehead.
“It’s in the noggin, junior, you should try it sometime, just a little basic math, right?”
Farmer didn’t know if he was led on by this rancher or if he just had met a mathematician with a hang for raising cattle. Looking at the beauty of the herd that was waiting for him he didn’t really care one way or the other. He could not wait to get the genetic information of these wonderful animals into his data recorder.
“Why the long face, Farmer?” Helen Spade asked when she joined him at the fence.
“I don’t know,” he replied not sure what to say, “This place creeps me out. I expected a backwater primitive community if anything at all and here we are living like the kings. The cattle, I can see that already, is of higher quality than the breed samples in the university lecture books and Mr. Turner gives me lessons in genetics math, without a computer for crying out loud. I have a hard time knowing what to think.”
“Well, then don’t think about it and get started with your work,” Spade pulled him back to planet Earth, “that’ll cheer you up.”
She flashed him her biggest sweet girl smile and took the data pad from his hands. Her fingers flew over the virtual keys calling up the database grid they had developed the day before.
“Cody is going to help sort the animals and bring them to us for the scanning. That’s going to be fun watch the guy wrestle cows,” she said mischievously.
It was going to be a long day of hard work. Turner didn’t want to keep the cattle in the corrals over night so they had to get all the DNA scans done before nightfall. Each of the animals had to be caught and lead down a chute where it could be held still for about thirty seconds while its genetic information was downloaded into the scanner’s memory banks. To be sure they would not lose any of the priceless data they paused after every tenth scan to transfer a backup copy to Spade’s data pad.
Cody Hunt and one of the ranch hands had the interesting task to cut specific animals out of the herd and deliver them to the chute where Farmer and Spade waited with the scanning equipment. Many of the cows were cooperative and let themselves be led willingly to the harmless procedure but a few of them had other ideas. It was almost as if these rambunctious creatures had waited for an opportunity to play with their humans. They bucked and kicked and screamed and had a blast running around in circles to avoid being caught. It was quite a spectacle to see Hunt in his black combat suit, sleeves rolled up and sweat running down his face chasing after a little steer that played catch with him. More than once, after he had landed in the dust face first the animal would change its mind and cheerfully walk into the chute all by itself.
Helen Spade was not shy around the animals either. Pretty suit or not, if one of the cows did not hold still long enough for Farmer to get a clear reading she was there to soothe and restrain it until the procedure was complete.
It took every bit of ten hours to process the complete herd one cow at a time. Hunt, Farmer and Spade were tired and dirty and they smelled like last year’s dung but they had gathered enough genetic information to reestablish a healthy cattle population throughout the Southwest, what an exhilarating accomplishment.
Right after the DNA rodeo had begun in the corrals Taylor asked Lilly Ann about having a go at tuning up her van’s engine. Farmer seemed to have everything under control with the sample gathering so he wanted to make himself useful in other ways.
“Sure, why not,” was Lilly Ann’s not too enthusiastic reply. She had looked into the engine compartment at the rear of her vehicle once before and it had t
aken her almost a week to regain her faith in the machine enough to dare driving it again. Now this Taylor fellow wanted to mess around in there and expected the engine to run better afterwards. She didn’t want to spoil his fun but the prospect of having to go hunting for a new transport did not appeal much to her at all. He seemed so happy when she pulled the car around the barn close to the machine shop so she forced herself to hope for the best and brace for the worst.
Taylor disappeared into the shop rummaging around loudly in a quest for the required tools. He reemerged with both arms filled with wrenches, screwdrivers, oilcans, pliers and contraptions that for sure did not have a name in any language known to man. He sat his find down onto the ground and began to clean the tools with an old oily rag. Lilly Ann was deeply touched at the sight of a man taking the time to clean his tools before using them on her property. She thought that this spoke very highly of his work ethics.
With all the metal sparkling in the late morning sun Taylor opened the back hatch of the boxy vehicle to reveal the ancient engine, a roll of unused cable, three spare spark plugs and a small bird’s nest.
“Wow,” he exclaimed, “this looks interesting. Do you mind if I remove the nonessentials from your car?” he asked with a wry smile.
The little flat four cylinder engine was covered in centuries old crud and hardened motor oil mixed up to a solid black crust all over the motor.
“This is going to take a while,” he said to Lilly Ann, “you don’t have to watch me if you have better things to do.”
“I guess,” Lilly Ann answered, “but it might be hard for you to work on the engine while I am driving around, don’t you think?”
They both laughed at Taylor’s obvious oversight and so he went back to cleaning out the dirt between the cooling fins. Taylor had heard the engine enough to know that a simple carburetor adjustment was not going to make much of a difference. He decided that he would do a complete field overhaul and use whatever was handy to bring the mechanical parts back to their original specification.
“What are you using for fuel up here?” he asked out of curiosity.
“I don’t know exactly,” Lilly Ann shrugged her shoulders, “I think it is a mixture of alcohol and recycled cooking oil. I never really thought about it. Terry comes by once or twice a month and fills up the tank, that’s all I ever needed to know. He says he puts new oil into the car every now and then. It worked beautifully so far.”
Taylor just looked at her with a raised eyebrow and nodded. He continued to remove engine parts from the bowels of the van one by one and laid them out on an old cotton sheet in the grass. After an hour of him disassembling part after part Lilly Ann was absolutely convinced that no human being would ever be able to put all this junk back together so that it would function to carry her about town and country. She had made her peace with the idea that she would have to borrow a vehicle whenever she wanted to be independent from hitching a ride with someone else.
Taylor on the other hand was reliving memories of countless airplane and other engines he had rebuilt under much worse conditions before. Each and every one of them had worked properly afterwards to great satisfaction of their owners and operators. He did not doubt for one moment that he could do the same in this case. With the steady hand of a master surgeon he carefully dug through the neglected mechanical mayhem in the engine bay to reveal the engineering marvel that this motor once was.
Patience, care, joy and faith in his skills transformed the mundane job of repairing an old car into a magician’s performance that was a delight to watch. Lilly Ann lost herself in the observation of Taylor’s deliberate movements, his soothing utterances to himself, to the car and to her. The spark in his eyes and electric energy of his presence made it hard to take her eyes off him.
“Lilly Ann?” it took a moment for her to realize that Taylor had said her name a second time to wake her from her daydream, “I will have to replace the head gaskets, they completely disintegrated when I took them off.”
‘Here we go,’ she thought to herself, ‘he needs a part that has not been produced for more than two hundred years. Bye, bye my trusty old VW.’
She took a deep breath to relax before she replied.
“OK, do you have any of these head gaskets with you?” she asked innocently.
He looked at her with an amused smile, “You don’t think that I can do this, do you? Why did you let me start to begin with if you didn’t believe I could finish the job?”
“The thought had crossed my mind,” she admitted, “but you looked so happy and so eager that I just could not deny you the simple pleasure of playing with my car.”
Taylor was knocked off his socks, well, he was sitting in the grass already. He didn’t know if he should laugh or cry. This was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for him.
“You are incredible,” he said almost choked by the flood of mixed emotions that swept over him, “I cannot begin to express how much I appreciate you, but,” he added with great emphasis, “I can fix this. We just need to find a small piece of old plastic floor covering or something similar.”
“You really can fix this?” Lilly Ann threw her arm in the air and did a little celebration dance. “You really can fix this!” she shouted for everyone to hear. She did not waste one thought to the fact that the car was not really broken before he had started to take it apart.
It turned out that many of the farm’s utility rooms still had very old linoleum floors hidden under rugs or wood panels. Taylor carefully removed one of the plastic tiles and started to clean and polish it with some solvent he had found and water. He placed the cylinder heads carefully on the linoleum and traced the outlines of the gaskets with a pencil. Lilly Ann could not believe her eyes when he picked up a sharp knife and without hesitation cut out the pattern he had drawn. Expertly he mimicked all the intricate curves and openings from the metal template onto the plastic material.
“That’ll do,” he announced after the last piece was removed to form the makeshift gasket, “it’ll run just as new.” His optimism was intoxicating.
Now Lilly Ann was getting excited. Was this man really able to figure out a machine that he had never seen before and that was constructed several hundred years before he was born? No matter the outcome, the sheer life-giving thrill of attempting the seemingly impossible made it worth the risk of losing her car a thousand fold. She couldn’t wait to turn the starter key to see if he had been successful.
One after another the now shiny and cleaned engine parts disappeared under the back hatch of the van. Taylor’s movements would have looked easy and effortless to a casual bystander and only his intense focus betrayed the delicate nature of his task. When he picked up the carburetor to bolt it onto the crankcase he thoroughly studied its design and adjustment mechanism. He turned this and that screw, loosened and tightened threads and bolts as if to get an innate feeling for function of the apparatus. After a short while his eyes brightened and a small satisfied smile played around his lips. He closed the adjustment needles all the way and then counted out loud the number of revolutions while he opened them back up. He nodded in agreement with himself and dove under the hood to install the part.
“Just a few more cables to put back into place,” he said with his hands still in the engine bay, “I guess it’s time to start her up. Wanna do the honors?”
“I’d love to,” Lilly Ann beamed with excitement, “are you sure about this?”
“I’ll tell you in a minute,” Taylor chuckled, “go ahead.”
Lilly Ann turned the key and stepped slightly on the gas pedal. The starter turned over twice and then havoc broke loose. The roar coming from the rear of the vehicle was deafening. It reverberated between the walls of the farm buildings and echoed from the adjacent hills. The noise was much more akin to the angry howling of a fighter jet than the gentle whining she was accustomed too. She quickly shut off the motor gesturing apologetic to the people who had run out of the buildings to see w
hat was going on.
“What in the...,” she started trying to stay serious through her upcoming laughter, “what did you do to my little van? I can’t drive around like this.”
Taylor was sitting on the ground behind the car holding his ears. Tears were flowing down his cheeks from laughter. He was just as surprised and startled by the noise level this little beast was able to produce if one did not put on the proper exhaust muffler. He had thought he would wait to put on the last part until he could be certain that the engine would run and he would not have to take it apart again. For the life of him he could not think of a reason why he did not disclose this vital piece of information to Lilly Ann before she had turned the key. Anyway, the hysterical look on her face when she came running at him was priceless.
“No worries,” he said to her still gasping for air from laughing. He held up the muffler trying to look as innocent as he could, “Once we put this on she’s going to purr like a kitten.”
Lilly Ann wanted to beat the metal piece over Taylor’s head for scaring the daylight out of her but he quickly retreated under the car and began affixing the missing part.
“Care to try again,” he asked with a wicked five-year-old-boy grin.
“Sure, you stay right there,” Lilly Ann laughed back at him.
This time Taylor’s promise came true. The motor came to life immediately and purred without complaint at a very civilized noise level.
“Let’s go for a test ride,” he eagerly suggested and hopped into the passenger seat.
Lilly Ann put in the first gear and took off with gravel shooting out under the back wheels.
“Whoa,” Taylor cautioned, “the engine might allow you to go faster now but I don’t think the chassis or the breaks are going to agree with that. Keep it slow and be happy that you can hear yourself think for a change.”
“Aye, aye, mon capitaine,” Lilly Ann exclaimed and turned the van around to head back to the farm.
When Taylor and Lilly Ann returned to the farm from their little joy ride Frank Turner greeted them in front of the main building.
“John, thank you for giving that old girl another lease on life,” he pointed at the van, “what do you think of you and your pals staying at the farm overnight. We have enough room in the guesthouse and you would be much closer to the other farms to get your specimen for the DNA sampling. No need to be uncomfortable in your tents.”
“We wouldn’t want to be any burden,” Taylor subjected.
“No burden,” Turner interrupted him, “we would love to have you. In any case, I guess your mates might need a change of clothes and a hot shower after all the fun they were having with the cattle this afternoon. I guess you could too,” he added looking at Taylor who had engine grease spread evenly over almost everything he was wearing.
“Well, thank you so much, Frank,” Taylor accepted the offer, “I’ll ask Lilly Ann to drive me over to the camp site to gather our gear and bring it here.”
Later that evening the four visitors sat at a large table in the main house all dressed up in borrowed overalls and flannel shirts with Lilly Ann, Frank Turner, his wife, their five children and a number of farm helpers to enjoy a scrumptious feast cooked in their honor.
“Cody, you were quite the steer wrestler out there today,” Turner smiled at Hunt, “very impressive for a guy from the city.”
“I grew up in the Texas flatlands working cattle,” Hunt replied, “and now its payback time for this afternoon,” he laughed and put a second huge T-bone steak on his plate. “They taste as good as they run,” he laughed between hearty bites of meat and potatoes to everyone’s entertainment.
Turner looked at Farmer, “Are you and Ms. Spade going to oversee the distribution of the genetic material yourselves?”
“Um, Helen is only on loan from her employer in a different field so to speak,” Farmer avoided to reveal specifics, “but yes, I will most likely plan and oversee the integration of the DNA into the local gene pool.”
“Actually,” Helen Spade spoke up, “I was thinking of staying on the project and helping you out with the data processing,” she added hoping not to sound too eager.
“Really? This is great,” Farmer’s face lit up as if the summer sun just had come up, “I sure can use your help in that department as we all have seen.”
A slight shade of red merged into his healthy tan when he saw the amused nods and smiles around the table.
“What?” he said with a helpless gesture and turned back to concentrate on the food in front of him. That really got everybody’s attention and he and Spade had to endure friendly stabs from all directions.
Later that night a curious yellow cat, stirred up by the soft creak of wooden floor boards, was the only witness to see Helen Spade sneaking up to the second floor of the farm’s guest house and slip into Tim Farmer’s room like a shadow. The cat meowed and smiled and went on her way knowing that all was well in her world.
The genetic scanning progressed at a rate that by far exceeded anything the team could have hoped for. Whoever Lilly Ann asked for samples of crops or life stock brought their finest examples to donate their genetic codes. At one point it was obvious that they would have to make due with a choice selection of data because their available memory filled up at a neck breaking rate. There were all kinds of grains they had never heard of before, corn of various size and color, native and exotic fruit and vegetables as well as all kinds of animals, from cows to pigs and sheep and goats to llamas, horses, donkeys and ostriches. They also collected grass, brush and tree DNA samples to give them a fuller picture of the overall genetic makeup of the region.
After a little over two weeks of tireless work during the day and delightful food, drink and entertainment in the evenings the time grew closer when they would have to call their mission completed for the time being and plan for their return trip and the work that awaited them once they got home.
“I talked to the weather girls this morning,” Lilly Ann said to Taylor after supper one night, “they said it’s going to rain. Five maybe six days from now it will start and keep raining and storming for a few weeks.”
“The weather girls?” Taylor asked with raised eyebrows.
“Yes, Julie and Tracy,” she explained, “they can read the weather and know it in advance. They have never been wrong.”
“I guess that means that we have to get going,” Taylor acknowledged with a sigh, “The airplane is parked without shelter and I can’t fly it through a storm. I’ll tell the others, we’ll leave tomorrow at dawn.”
Hunt, Farmer and Spade took the news without much emotion. They had had a good time up there in the mountains but they were also looking forward to get going with implementing the genetic data they had collected. Farmer and Spade could not wait to explore their newfound closeness in the privacy of their own world so they were in high spirits when they prepared their backpacks and gear for the journey back home.
Taylor stepped out into the quiet darkness of the barnyard to find Lilly Ann sitting on a hay wagon contemplating the straw she was gnawing on. He knew that this was most likely their last chance to talk in private in a long time.
“Who is Leila?” Taylor asked her without being fully aware of what the question was really about.
Lilly Ann looked at him thoughtfully and hesitated for a moment.
“Where did you hear that name?” she asked back.
“I didn’t,” Taylor replied slowly, “when I thought of you this morning the name Leila popped into my mind and kinda got stuck there. Who is she?”
“Interesting,” Lilly Ann did not really know how to answer that question, “let’s just say she is a very good friend of mine who has a habit of making an appearance in strange places or so it seems. Let’s just leave it at that for now.”
She jumped off her seat onto the sidewalk and snuck her arm under his, pulling him back into the house.
“Let’s have a drink and a toast to your journey,” she said, �
�when good friends are traveling it’s no time to be sad. You know, I can’t miss you if you won’t go away.”
With that little joke her lightheartedness was back in full bloom.
“Frank,” she shouted through the hallway, “our friends are leaving tomorrow, bring out your best schnapps we have to celebrate!”
It was an intense but short celebration, for the travelers’ minds were already set on the road that laid ahead. What a glorious, wondrous and enriching visit it had been with the forgotten people of the mountains of Oz.
Chapter 6: Geronimo!!!
