Trans before

I saw something recently that said basically the person never saw a trans kid growing up, lets look at this briefly as I knew several--imagine that.
Male to Female (MTF) trans kids in the 70's weren't allowed to express themselves as they wanted to. Any amount of effeminate behavior was quickly pounced upon by let's call them Alpha types. We were routinely bullied, beaten, kicked, called sissies, & tortured in the restroom. There is a massive reason many teen & pre-teen boys committed suicide in the 70's & 80's, and many of them were LGBT but society would not allow us to be who we are so many (like myself) tried to or did exit this world instead of continuing to be beaten at both home & in society. Marsha P. Johnson--a trans woman--had only thrown the brick that started Stonewall on June 28, 1969 after-all, so there were no LGBT rights yet--we've changed a lot in the 54 years since.
Female to Male (FTM), let's be honest usually they were just called "Tomboys," and they were almost celebrated. They could even be friends with guys that had similar interests. Even now, most FTM adults can blend in as short guys and no one notices--your mileage may vary on this one.
Adult MTF have some issues, beard shadow, deeper voice, taller, broader shouldered, etc. Some just don't blend well, or have jobs that would get them killed if they tried to be the woman inside.
Many trans persons are intersexed, meaning they have the opposite chromosomes like an XY woman or an XX male, they may have an ovary & testicle. They may have an un-erupted vaginal canal, or a blind vagina with an enlarged clitoris that appears to be a penis.
Many will say "God only made man and woman" really?? Then how do we explain intersex persons?
I'm not for massive life altering surgical procedures for minors, but let their curiosity be explored does it hurt to let a boy wear a dress any more than a girl to wear pants?
Why is it anyone's business that we have to expressly forbid half the clothing to half the population? Because it allows us to "know" what is between their legs? Talk about an invasion of privacy!
It's time we as a people realize that everyone has a right to be happy with themselves and not dead because of your personal beliefs.
And to show a dress does not hurt a boy, this is President Franklin Delano Roosevelt as a child in 1884 just 138 years ago, not even a hundred years before Stonewall.

 

Victim 18 Post 46

By the time Norman wakes the next morning Wren has showered and loaded all but his bag of clothes. The car’s trunk is completely packed by the time his bag is added and they are on their way. Wren takes off on the bike following him to breakfast then over to Margret’s. They park in the lot and with the guard expecting them tells them their space numbers and they go up to her apartment and knock on the door. Margaret answers promptly still in her house coat and ushers them in.

“You two are earlier than I expected, make yourselves at home, I’ll be just a minute and we’ll get a dolly to bring up your stuff.”

For the next five minutes they pace the living room as they wait Wren still amazed at the lengths her Mom went to, to acquire all her pictures. While Norman stands transfixed by the image over the mantle. Margret’s sudden reappearance startles them and leaves Wren in a slight shock.

“All right let's get this stuff up here so we can all get to work.”

Wren just stares at her Mom.

“Everything all right, Wren?”

“I’m sorry Mom I still haven’t adjusted to your presence or appearance yet that’s all. I mean…you look good, I just have to adjust that’s all.”

“Okay, but maybe being around me more will help.”

They pick up a small flat cart from building maintenance then load up the stuff from the trunk. They deposit it all in the spare room and then they return the cart and Margaret gives them each a set of keys to get in and out of the building and the automated gate to the lot.

“Bye-bye Wren, I’ll be off about three so I should be home by three thirty and if you're in I’ll see you then.”

“Bye Mom I’ll see you this afternoon.”

After telling Norman good bye she heads back up to the apartment and puts their stuff away. About an hour later she is sitting down at her Mom’s kitchen table with the laptop and a cup of tea looking up Pete Applegate.

“Seventy eight hundred Watson road, suite four, five foot five, brown hair, fair skin, drives a two thousand three BMW, black, mother bought it for his graduation, still lives at home, will do anything or anyone, bi-sexual, might be doing his own mother.

Now that is just sick!”

About this time her phone rings with the call that her new computer system is ready to be picked up. She calls Norman to let him know and is informed that his order is ready at the hardware store as well.

“I guess we can pick up the stuff this evening after work.”

“That works for me, do you think we should take your mom along and buy her dinner? After all, she is letting us stay in her home while we pack to leave.”

“I don’t see why we couldn’t, but I need to do a little reconnaissance work tonight as well.”

“I’m glad this is wrapping up. I'm getting tired of worrying about you.”

Wren hangs up the phone and heads down to her bike. She throws her leg over and moments later is heading off to look over the situation. In fifteen minutes she’s cruising past the old apartment buildings. She turns into the lot and slowly drives through. The building is easy to find in the group and unlike Adam Edwards these are only four family flats making it easy to find number four. The black BMW sitting directly in front confirms that he still doesn’t have a job. She leaves the area taking note of a fire escape that should offer a good view of her quarry. She prepares to return to her Mom’s when her phone starts vibrating in her pocket. She pulls off to the side and pulling off her helmet answers the line.

“This is United Parcel Service and we have a delivery for Mrs. James and the ship ticket specifically states to call before delivery.”

“I can meet you at the Spring court address in say half an hour.”

“That works for me.”

The rest of Wren’s afternoon is spent packing the first and largest portion of the Cabella’s order into the shipping container as tightly as possible so as to ensure ample space for the coming supplies. When she is done she is wet with sweat and it is about time for her Mom to be getting home. She locks up the container, hops back on the bike and goes back to her Mom’s to clean up. Soon she is easing her bike up to the residents entrance and riding through the gate. Up the elevator she goes until she is on the eighteenth floor. Heading down the hall lost within her own thoughts as she finally gets to her Mom’s door. She enters with her key still feeling uneasy and weird about staying with her Mom. She steps inside and as she closes the door she hears voices from further inside the room. She listens carefully for a minute then realizes that her Mom is apparently entertaining her boyfriend, with a shudder she heads to the other end of the apartment to clean up.

Wren takes her time cleaning up using unscented soap, and making sure to shave carefully. When she is done she slips into a simple white sundress and sandals then starts packing the Predator into a duffel bag to come along. It’s a good hour after her arrival when she emerges from her room and she just catches a glimpse of her Mom escorting someone into the entrance hall. When Margaret returns she is alone and reddens slightly at the sight of Wren.

“Wren, I did not know you were home. How long have you been back?”

“About an hour.”

“Oh, well…”

“Mom, we are both adults and from where I met you I don’t think you need to explain anything. Let’s just assume that I know nothing, and I really don’t want to know anything.”

“Fair enough. So what are your plans for dinner?”

“We are going to go out and are interested in knowing if you would like to come along. Only you should know I have something to do afterward.”

“Not another like the other night. That scared me to death watching you careening through those tractor trailers, the sparks coming from that guy's bike every time he would try to slip through some gap. How close to the ground do you get?”
“You’ve seen the races that where on television that should give you an answer.”

“I can not see how you do that, it always looks like you are about to hit the ground.”

“One thing is you don’t pay attention to the ground. It’s kind of like if you ignore gravity it will ignore you. So what do you want for dinner?”

“Honestly a nice steak sounds good. What do you think?”

“It’ll do.”

“It’ll do? What sounds better?”

“A nice flame roasted piece of elk with some prairie carrots and a big bowl of black berries with cream.”

“I see what you mean now. I don’t know if I will ever understand you but, I am going to try. Whatever made you decide to ride a motorcycle?”

“Dad had a bike and he would take me out on it, that gave me my very first taste. A guy I dated senior year had a bike but that was all he was good for. I took a class on riding and got my first bike that year. Grandma was actually supportive of it and told me Grandpa had a bike when they were younger. I took that bike everywhere in all kinds of weather, I even took it to see Grandma and Grandpa Robbins that summer. One of my cousins took me to a race because he said I needed an outlet for my “need for speed” and I was hooked. Off road was too dirty and jarring but track and street pushing two hundred miles an hour, now that was for me.”

“Two hundred? How fast were you going the other night?”

“In chasing Josh, a hundred and fifty. Outrunning the helicopter two hundred maybe a little more. Believe me that kind of speed in the dark is not fun and really is totally scary, even to me.

Now you’ve been asking all the questions I have one for you. Have you ever been on a bike?”

“No, I’ve never dated anyone with one and I’ve never had the courage to get on anyone else’s.”

“Want a ride?”

“How? I don’t have a helmet.”

“When I was at the dealer the other day I borrowed a second one in case I needed to take Norman on the bike and I think his helmet will work just fine. I mean I’m not talking about anything over the speed limit. You got some heavy denim or leather?”

“Do I! I’ll be right back.”

They both leave and change coming back to the entrance hall at about the same time. Wren back in her racing leathers Margaret in tight leather leggings and a matching leather jacket over a white tee shirt. Wren is just getting ready to leave a note for Norman when he walks into the room.

“Norman, I was just going to take Mom for a ride on the bike. Would you mind choosing a steakhouse for us and we’ll be back shortly.”

“Okay, how long until you’re back?”

“Oh, give me half an hour, maybe forty minutes.”

The two women leave heading down the elevator to the garage. They walk up to the bike Wren giving her Mom instructions on how to ride behind her and hang on as they go. Wren throws her leg over and her Mom climbs on behind her. She fires up the engine and slowly lets out the clutch as she eases forward. Soon she is heading down Kingshighway and after a couple of stop lights she turns to her Mom behind her who had loosened her grip slightly.

“How are you doing?”

“Fine.”

“Ready for the highway?”

“Go ahead, let's go.”

They head East on interstate sixty-four to fourth street then turn around and head back. Twenty minutes later they are back in the parking lot taking off their helmets.

“Well, what did you think?”

“I think if I had been a better mother our lives would have been very interesting. So how much does something like this set you back?”

“Mom, you are definitely a lot different than I remember. I think I can actually say I like the new you.”

Margaret throws herself around Wren holding her tightly as tears start streaming down her face. She holds her so tightly and so long that Wren actually starts to get uncomfortable.

“Mom it’s a little hot to be standing around in black leather and besides Norman is waiting on us.”

“I’m sorry I just never thought I’d have you back again and to hear you say you like me. I guess the last month has been kind of a whirlwind for both of us.”

“Yes it has, let's go change and get some dinner.”

MauraAlwyen.com

Victim 18 Post 45

CHAPTER 11
THE RUNAWAY

It’s seven in the morning when the alarm goes off and Norman gets out of bed. Wren doesn’t stir as he goes about getting ready he wakes her just enough to say goodbye as he heads off to work. It’s noon before Wren finally wakes on her own. She stumbles through the room and makes her way to the shower. She stays in for a long time as she tries to get the tension of the previous night's events out of her mind and body. After her shower she goes back and lies across the bed drifting back into sleep. She snaps back awake when her phone starts to ring.

“Wren how do you feel?”

“Norman, you called just to ask me that?”

“No actually I called because I was worried about you and I finished going through the papers from Hartwell. Everything is completely in order and I have everything ready for your signature.”

“Good do I need to come over or are you just bringing them with you this evening?”

“I think it best if you came and signed them so I can turn them right around to them.”

“I’ll see you in a little bit then.”

Wren dresses and after checking the fluid levels of her bike heads over to Norman’s office. It is the hottest part of the day when she starts over and though she prefers to ride in the daylight, the ride last night had been considerably cooler. The ninety-eight degree temperature with the high humidity of St. Louis always makes travel by bike an experience in the summer and this day is no exception. Every stop light along the way seems to be red and she feels as though she will be roasted by the time she makes it to his office and she wonders what use it had been to take a shower at all. She parks the bike and heads across the lot and in.

“Hi Wren I guess I won't be seeing you too many more times.”

“I guess not Sheila it’s going to be weird not having you around to remind Norman of important meetings and dates.”

“At least he always remembers your important dates. It’ll be weird for me though not hearing about you all the time. Wren did this, Wren did that although I didn’t know until recently that you had been a model in your early college years.”

“Neither did Norman until recently but it’s good to have some surprises left for him.”

“So a two year dig in Peru in an undiscovered city. The only thing that I don’t understand is how was it missed all this time?”

“They're finding new sites all the time with satellite imaging and the melting of high altitude snow from global warming. It really is a fascinating time to be in archeology. I’m just glad Norman’s alright with it because that accounting gig was really getting boring. I prefer getting down into my work.”

Wren stops herself before she mentions what she really prefers is the fast life of motorcycle racing. Feeling that the events of last night are best not connected with her anymore than necessary.

“You can go in now he’s off the phone.”

She enters Norman’s very familiar office, his law books having the occasional gap and two boxes sitting on the table in the corner containing the missing books. Wren knows what she would find if she were to look. Every book ever written by Tolkien, and every Agatha Christie containing Hercule Poirot. To Wren it suddenly became clear why this expedition would mean anything to Norman; it was itself a historical mystery. The history of Middle Earth fascinated Norman as do the mysteries always solved by a little man with an egg shaped head. Sitting next to the boxes are several new books though and as Norman hasn’t seen her enter the room yet she steps closer to examine them. The history of the Incan empire, The rise and fall of the Maya, The lost city of Machu Pichu, and A Tourists guide to Mayan and Incan hieroglyphics and iconography.

“I see you found my new books.”

“Very different from your usual assortment.”

“I figured it wouldn’t hurt if I knew a little about what we are getting into.”

“A tourist guide though?”

“I said a little didn’t I. I figure it’s at least a beginning even if it is a bit simple.”

“I’ll have to take a look at it and see how far off it is though if the author really is who they say it is it should be very accurate and I may get a quick refresher myself.”

“Well, we’ll see now about this contract. Everything seems in order and he has included a clause providing you the right to leave a shipping container on the property until July fifteenth. He has agreed to pay you three million five hundred thousand dollars in exchange for one hundred fifty acres plus or minus. Look it over and if all seems fine to you we’ll go to the bank around the corner and have you sign it and get it notarized.”

“But didn’t I have you look at it to make sure it was alright?”

“I may be a lawyer but even I make mistakes. That's why there are loopholes in laws and contracts. It’s always better to read the fine print for oneself.”

Wren reads over the contract while Norman digs out another box from behind his desk. She peeks up at him every so often as he busily opens the box. She eventually reaches the end and comes over to see just what it is that has Norman so enthralled.

“This package came in the mail today from your Aunt addressed to me.”

“That looks like one of Uncle Ron’s hand made bows, the beaded quiver and moccasins are definitely Painted Buffalo’s work, the arrows are grandma’s work and the flint knife is grandpa’s work. This is a great gift both for the fact that they sent them to you and for what they’re worth.”

“They also came with this letter. “To our new nephew Dancing Owl, we hope these serve you well. You have proven yourself a provider and a member of the family.” Dancing Owl?”

Wren laughs until tears start running down her cheeks at Norman’s confusion.

“It is now your name within our family—an Indian name. Uncle Ron, and grandpa told me they were very impressed by your hunting skills. Grandpa said you danced from shadow to shadow dodging prairie dog holes and ta tanka chips like an expert and uncle Ron said you were as silent as a Great Horned Owl. Believe me it is not meant to be an insult.”

“It might take some getting used to but I kind of like it, now that it is explained to me. What is your name then?”

“Oh, mine is rather long and came with my vision but shortened down I am, the Speaker of the ancient ones.”

They walk over to the bank and sign the contract, then return to Norman’s office where the courier is waiting to take it back to Hartwell construction. Sheila heads off for the night and Norman locks up the office.

“You know I talked to Margaret earlier and she said she had offered to let us stay in the spare bedroom. I think it might be a good idea instead of staying at the hotel.”

“Why is that?”

“Because there would be far fewer eyes watching you return late at night. The added bonus would be that she has the space for us to stash some of our gear before we take it to the shipping container.”

“So when did you say we would be coming over to stay with her?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Now that that is solved I would like to buy something frivolous to take with us.”

“What’s that?”

“A guitar, applying you don’t mind church hymns and classical music.”

“I never knew you could play.”

“I can play several instruments, actually guitar, piano, and the fiddle. How about you?”

“Cedar flute and the clarinet, unfortunately both were stolen so I have neither.”

“Maybe we could find you a new one while we are out.”

The rest of the evening is spent looking at instruments picking up music and eating dinner. When they get back to the hotel they each have a new instrument to help pass the lonely winter months up on the mountain in there new home. Norman calls the ranch to thank them for the gifts and Wren explains the loss of her home and the new job to her grandparents. They all agree that with the proceeds from the sale of her home she could buy a nice spread in South Dakota after her contract expires if she so desires. After their call they pack up all their stuff to leave tomorrow then head off to bed.

MauraAlwyen.com

Victim 18 Post 44

He leaves and Wren moves her pile of tools into it then heads into Fenton to get a lock, before picking up Norman.

“Container make it alright?”

“Yes, but did they mention that it was an air cargo container?”

“I don’t really recall, why?”

“Well, it’s not too large I’d say eight by eight about six foot tall.”

“Well it’ll be close but what else are we going to do but live with it.”

“You’ll be getting a packet of legal paperwork tomorrow from Hartwell construction. I sold the land today.”

“How much did you get?”

“Three point five million dollars.”

“Three point five million, you are kidding me, aren’t you?”

“No, that's what he offered and I accepted he said he’d have the contract sent to your office tomorrow.”

“That’s good we can have it in the bank before we leave then. So I guess we’re picking up the bike then dinner?”

“Sort of, except after the bike I have to go to Sean’s and pick up something special.”

“I had a feeling when the bike came back I’d be back to worrying about you.”

“It won’t be too many more times and soon enough we’ll be alone on a mountain in Peru.”

After dinner Wren heads over to Illinois and back to see her cousin. It nearly broke her will to leave Norman alone but this time he had to stay behind. It is just getting dark when she pulls into the lot and walks into the store stepping directly up to the counter.”

“Can I help you?”

“Sean O’Malley please.”

“I’m sorry miss but he isn’t here right now and we’re just about to lock up so if you don’t need anything would you please leave.”

Wren reaches across the counter and grabs the man by his shirt pulling him halfway across the counter so she is looking straight into his face and in a cold hushed and deliberate voice she speaks to him again.

“I know Sean, and I know he never leaves early. Now we can do this the hard way or we can do this the easy way. Get me Sean and get him NOW!”

She lets go of him abruptly and he falls face first into the counter.

“Now you listen to me bitch.”

Wren leaps over the counter and brings a fist into his stomach hard enough to make him vomit down the front of his clothes as he falls to the floor.

“NO ONE CALLS ME THAT!”

“Wren! How great to see you again.”

“Sean, this piece of filth just told me you weren’t here and that I should leave.”

“That’s it Todd out the door I’ll mail you your final check, don’t ever come through my doors again!”

Two other clerks rush up and physically drag Todd out of the door as Sean turns his attention back to Wren.

“I’m sorry Wren I hired him a week ago and he’s been nothing but trouble to my customers. Come on in the back I’m sure there’s something I can do to help you.

Luke would you please lock up when it’s time?”

“Sure thing mister O’Malley.”

Wren and Sean head back into his office and down to the subterranean room.

“Now what do you need?”

“I’m thinking something along the lines of a hand grenade and a pair of handcuffs.”

“You and Norman getting a little kinky already?”

Wren gives him a very stern look and he stops laughing.

“I think I have just what you want over here. It’s Brazilian in origin, small, light has about a fifteen second timer before detonation.”

“About fifteen?”

“Well thirteen to seventeen actually, fifteen is just an average. Not like you can test each one individually now is it.”

They walk back up top, the store is closed, the lights out as they fit a set of toy handcuffs to the grenade. She steps back into his office and changes into her racing suit. She re-emerges as the Predator black from head to toe.

“Good hunting, Predator.”

She arrives back at Missouri Baptist Hospital at eleven forty-five and sits motionless in a darkened corner of the parking lot waiting for him to come out from work. She can plainly see his Harley sitting at the other end of the lot from her, under the warm yellow glow of the street lamp. It’s a beautiful bike even from this distance. Almost all chrome, gleaming as the light reflects off its many facets causing it to sparkle like a diamond. It seems a shame to Wren that something of such beauty would soon be just a pile of twisted metal around the piece of excrement that is its rider. But she knows all too well that it is merely a machine even if its looks do border on art; her target is still the same.

A small group leaves the hospital all in their maroon orderly scrubs. Again she picks him out fast carrying his helmet. She watches the group walk across the lot stopping now and then as they get to someone’s car. The group keeps getting smaller until finally only two are left. They stop and talk for what seems like ages though it can’t be more than ten minutes. Eventually he goes on to his bike and mounts it. He starts it and is fastening his helmet when he stares at Wren sitting in the shadows. His gaze lingers in her direction for sometime as he settles in and starts off. Wren watches him as he threads his way through the lot. She starts her own bike and follows trying to keep a slight distance from him so as not to scare him into another run. She is three cars behind him at the light onto Ballas as he waits to make the left. She can see him watching to his right even at this distance but she knows he can’t see her with the cars in-between, the light changes and they maneuver into the right lane now with only two cars separating them. They make the long sweeping arc onto interstate sixty-four and slide one lane to the left, both cars still in-between. They take the next sweeping arc onto highway two seventy and merge in at highway speed. He moves left another lane but holds his speed down to the limit. The cars soon pull off onto Manchester and they are nearly alone on a nearly vacant highway. Only the sound of the Harley’s engine gives the road any sense of life at this time of night. Wren starts to slowly move in closer to him as they come up on Dougherty Ferry. As she approaches to within two car lengths he starts to accelerate. They play at this game until he suddenly heads the wrong way onto highway forty-four heading away from the city instead of to his home as he ought to be. He slowly accelerates his bike until as they pass over highway one forty-one and out of Fenton and they are soon toying with a hundred and twenty miles an hour. They hold their speed threading in and out of traffic, his highway bars occasionally throwing sparks as he leans too fast and too far. Wren knows by his riding that he is near the bikes physical limits and past the limit of his skill and waits for him to make a fatal mistake. For the next ten minutes they continue with this game, Wren staying just behind him only allowing herself enough room to maneuver if something does go wrong. At Gray Summit they are joined by a patrol car and it is at this point Wren has tired of the whole thing and opens her throttle even more against her better judgment in the dark knowing that she is already out driving her headlights. She pulls the grenade from her jacket pocket and loops the detonator ring around her little finger. Holding the cuff in the fingers of her left hand she finishes her acceleration past him on his right and slaps the cuff around his right wrist yanking the detonator as she speeds off. She is a good half a mile ahead of him when the grenade detonates, she can see and hear the patrol car slamming to a halt as a search light from a helicopter quickly engulfs her. Now she pushes her bike and her nerves to the utter edge and completely opens the throttle. The bike responds and jumps forward hard as she lays tight to the bike, her body becoming one with it. Soon she has passed all reason as she hurtles down the highway at two hundred miles an hour. Only her skill as a racer gives her any advantage as she screams past and between tractor trailers she only recognizes cars by their taillights and in five minutes the helicopter’s light is gone leaving Wren once again alone on the highway. She lets off the throttle and slowly starts applying the brakes in deliberate measured bursts as she brings the bike back down to highway speed. She pulls into a truck stop in Sullivan refuels and after consulting a map takes route one eighty-five to route twenty-one then back to the hotel where at three in the morning she can plainly see Norman pacing in the window as she parks her bike. He opens the door as she gets to it, holding her tightly in his arms. She feels safe there and really doesn’t want him to let go.

“I’ve been so worried about you all evening. And when that T.V. news copter couldn’t keep up with you I really got to worrying about what happened. You can tell me if you want to later but I’m sure you're as tired as I am.”

“I am totally beat but, how did you know it was me?”

“Breaking news about a police chase on highway forty-four two motorcycles in a high speed chase and when one blew up I knew it had to be you even if you couldn’t make out any detail of the rider. They were even talking about catching a glimpse of the Predator in action for the first time.”

“Let’s get some sleep then because as I said I’m beat.”

For all things Maura, MauraAlwyen.com

Victim 18 Post 43

Wren spends the afternoon visiting Abby and casing the parking lot of Missouri Baptist hospital searching for an elusive Harley. She finally finds him pulling into the lot at about four in the afternoon. She follows him into the lot at a distance and once she is certain it is him mentally notes where he parks. Figuring he will most likely leave between midnight and one if he works an eight hour shift. She leaves and spends the rest of the afternoon in Norman’s spare office looking over her gear list trying to ensure she has missed nothing.

“You know if you look over that list too much it will only haunt your dreams.”

“I doubt anything will ever replace the nightmares I continually have now. Besides, I just want to make sure I don’t miss anything. I went on a three month dig in the Yucatan once with a very experienced professor and do you know what he forgot?”

“Mosquito repellant?”

“Worse, toilet paper. Sixty people, a two week hike to the nearest outpost of civilization and no toilet paper.”

“What did you do?”

“Me I was fine, spending some time with Painted Buffalo taught me to always have your own supply of toiletries. Everyone else, well, let's just say there was no close intimate contact between any of us.”

“I think I can see why you’re a bit paranoid but that was just one mistake albeit a big one.”

“Every dig I’ve ever been on has missed some major item like that. Mosquito repellant in the heart of Africa, warm sleeping bags in Main in March, cooking utensils in Borneo you get the idea. It all comes down to the crashing together of the best laid plans and Murphy’s law.”

“Well I’ve got you some good news that I’m sure you hadn’t thought about.”

“Really what?”

“I sold my law practice today.”

“You're right, I hadn’t thought about that.”

“Another firm has been trying to get me to join them for some time so I called them up this morning and talked to them, that’s what the meeting was about this afternoon. I’ll stay on for the next two weeks then they take over from there. Part of the deal allows me to join them as a full partner if and when we come back to the states. So that’s one less thing for me to deal with in the meantime.”

“Then lets get some dinner and some sleep I need to be back up about eleven.”

At midnight Wren pulls the Mustang into a darker part of the parking lot barely within sight of the Harley. About ten till one a man in the dark maroon scrubs of an orderly starts across the parking lot. His receding brown hair shows in the yellow light of the parking lot a helmet in his left hand as he heads straight to the bike.

“May I ask what your plan is?”

“I seldom have one. I figure get up beside him, pull the shot and continue on. It’s worked for me before.”

He gets to his bike and starts looking it over from front to back leaving not a single bolt or crevice overlooked. Satisfied he throws his leg over the bike and cranks up the motor. The loud rapping of the engine fills the silence of the near empty lot as he fastens his helmet. Lifting his left foot to the gear shifter he pushes it down into first and lets out the clutch. Soon he’s heading off of Ballas and on to interstate sixty-four. Wren stays back knowing he is heading toward two-seventy. They take the long sweeping ramp up and over the highway and soon are on two-seventy themselves. Wren accelerates to catch up to him and is closing in slowly lessening the gap between them as she does. She fades to the right and eases up alongside, her driver's side window down pistol drawn and ready. He looks over just as the laser sight lines up with his helmet and he accelerates hard. The Harley rockets away from the Mustang as Wren slams the pistol into Norman’s lap. She floors the Mustang and takes off after him climbing fast, eighty, ninety, a hundred, weaving in and out of the thin traffic staying within sight but slowly losing him.

“Wren might I suggest a different approach before someone innocent gets hurt?”

“Yea, I think you're right. This is going to get all of us killed.”

She lets off the gas and lets the car cost back down to eighty before slowly applying the brakes and taking the Telegraph exit to turn around.

“You need your bike for this one don’t you?”

“It would honestly make me feel safer, after all I’m more comfortable on two wheels than on four.”

Even as late as they are out Wren is still up at six and looking through the laptop once again when Norman finds her.

“May I ask why you are looking through that in the bathroom?”

“So as not to disturb you.”

“Well as much as I appreciate that, wouldn't it do you some good to get more sleep?”

“It might but you know I just can’t lately.”

“You know, you might want to check into a system to take with us. Maybe a digital camera and a scanner.”

“On top of a mountain? How?”

“Well I was looking at a couple of sites on solar power yesterday and came across one that also sold small wind turbines. They come in various voltages and with a few simple batteries we could have the use of some electricity. You can get those new LED lights for cars and I figure if you got several back up lights you could light the tent with them. You could have a fan to move the heat from the stove, maybe one of those thermo-electric coolers for food.”

“I get the idea when is it going to be delivered?”

“Friday, and I ordered two by the way. So we will have a spare.”

“You and your gadgets.”

“I never had that much need for them before I met you, then I was hooked.”

“But why do I need a new system?”

“Because that one’s tainted and I wouldn’t try to cross the border with it.”

“Lets get cleaned up then I have a lot to do.”

Wren drops Norman at his office then heads to Kingshighway and Pershing avenue to check on Po Xian. She drives past his house only to realize it is empty. She loops around the block and pulls up across the street from it. She sits there for a few minutes looking over her notes before she heads across the street to look into the matter a little better. She crosses the busy street and starts up to the porch when she is startled by a voice shouting at her.

“Hey! You, looking for Po?”

“Yea, he’s an old friend and I can’t seem to reach him lately.”

“Not surprised he moved out real suddenly about two weeks ago.”

“You know where he went?”

“Not a clue but, I do know he frequents a bar down in Sunset Hills. O’Leary’s I think it’s called anyway he’s there most every night though.”

“I never realized he was such a heavy drinker.”

“Something’s been bugging him for the last couple of months really got him going, whatever it is.”

“Well thanks for the info I’ll have to see if I can catch him there.”

“Well good luck then.”

Wren gets back into her car confident that she knows just what is bothering him. She decides to head out to the motorcycle dealer to see how the repairs to her bike are coming along before she starts looking at a new computer system.

“Wren! How is our favorite biker doing today?”

“Well now that depends on how my bike is doing.”

“You know the way to the shop, I’ve got Bob looking it over since it’s your bike.”

Wren walks through the showroom and through the large double doors marked employee’s only. Past a half dozen bikes waiting their turn for repairs and three sitting on lifts in the middle of repairs until she reaches her own bike being carefully inspected by a man with long gray hair pulled back into a ponytail hanging down to his waist. He’s looking through his half moon glasses at a spot that would normally be covered with a piece of titanium colored plastic that now sits blackened and charred upon his workbench with the rest of the bikes faring.

“Well Bob what’s the prognoses?”

“It’s still drivable, looks bad but the outer plastic took the brunt of it. I’ve patched a few wires and a new set of tires wouldn’t hurt. Otherwise she came out of it with just minor damage really.”

“How long before I could have it back?”

“Need it in a hurry?”

“Well with Norman’s truck lost in the same fire it’s getting kind of rough with just one car.”

“I reckon I could have it back together late this afternoon.”

“Bob, you're the best.”

“Anything for my favorite rider.”

“I’ll see you this evening then.”

Wren went back out to the showroom the way she had come in and tracked down Dave the owner.

“Dave, I need to know if you could help me out?”

“What is it, Wren?”

“I’ve taken a new job over seas and I’m going to have to get rid of my bike.”

“Wren I’m sad to hear it. When do you leave?”

“July twenty-seventh.”

“I’ll tell you what when your ready, bring the bike in and I’ll give you blue book retail for it cash money.”

“Thanks Dave.”

With her errand done she leaves in search of a new computer then back over to pick up Norman for lunch.

“Well we can pick up the bike this evening, and I arranged to sell it back to the dealer at blue book retail before we leave.”

“That’s great news and, how did the computer shopping go?”

“I bought a system with mom’s help. It will be able to run on straight twelve volt or one-ten, it will function as a universal television so it will even work overseas, DVD player, surround sound card, scanner, printer, the biggest and thinnest monitor I could get. I even found a set of nice surround speakers just for you. The way the gear is adding up I’m really glad we get an entire shipping container to pack it all in.”

“I say we should restore one or two buildings at the site to stay in and put the gear in, I think it would be much more stable and secure.”

“Well, I could run that past Doctor Hernandez when we get there but I would prefer not to before they are excavated properly.”

“That’s fair enough although we are going to be camped for two years on top of unexcavated ground that would to me seem to hide just as much history.”

“That is a good point too. How goes your search for your lights?”

“Well I was talking to a guy at an auto parts store earlier and we discussed light output and what we would be using them for and I ordered out what I felt would be an ample quantity. We decided that half a dozen large capacity deep cycle batteries would be a good start for us but he suggested we get them there as it would be safer than shipping them that distance. The hardware store has ordered me enough of that insulation I mentioned to you the other day to help us out some. And the shipping container will be delivered between two and five this afternoon.”

“Two and five? I better be heading back then so I’m there when it gets there.”

Wren starts the drive back to the ruins of her home not wanting to see the charred remains of the house. Pulling into the driveway with a hollow feeling in her heart, she stares at the remains with all of its memories left to haunt her mind. She walks up onto the porch and peers in through the remains of the front windows then walks away. With some effort of will she calls up a developer that had approached her about a month before and arranges to meet him at the remains to discuss the lands future.

When he arrives Wren is poking around in the remains of the garage feeling that its concrete floor is the only one left stable. A visible space where Norman’s truck had sat through the inferno the only spot not covered in the thick ash that is now kicked up with each passing breeze.

“Wren Robbins?”

“It’s Wren James now but yes I’m her.”

“Chad Hartwell with Hartwell construction. I’m sorry to have to meet you under these conditions.”

“It could be worse. I could be meeting you with the house still intact. It actually makes it a bit easier this way really.”

“So one hundred fifty acres correct?”

“That’s right it has road frontage front and rear and is bordered by the Meramec river on the North.”

“Well I’ll give you the same offer that you didn’t want to discuss as before. Three point five million for everything as is. That’s about twenty three thousand an acre.”

“Three point five million?”

“Yes but I really doubt I could go much higher.”

“Oh no I just didn’t realize just what I was sitting on. The money is fine but I have one condition to add to it.”

“Well let's hear it, though I suppose you want a new house somewhere on the grounds.”

“No, actually I have a shipping container being delivered here shortly and I would like to be able to leave it here until it is picked up on July the eleventh.”

“That would be no problem at all.”

“Fine if you would have whatever paperwork is involved with the sale sent to the address on this card. My husband is a lawyer and will take care of all the legal work.”

“It’s been a real pleasure doing business with you Mrs. James. I’ll have the contract sent over tomorrow if your husband finds all acceptable I can have your check ready in two days.”

“That will be fine and thanks for everything.”

Wren is left sitting alone staring at the burned out shell thinking, if Norman could spot her portfolio sitting in the remains of the living room pretty much intact, what else might have survived? She goes back into the garage and starts rummaging again this time moving burnt and charred boards. After a while she manages to salvage all the hand tools without plastic or wooden handles. She piles them in front of the garage then she heads around back to the lower basement door. It stands splintered and dangling from its center hinge where the firemen broke it down in their attempt to save the house. She looks up into the floor joists, most of them seeming to be just fine a darker brown than their near hundred year old oak had ever looked before but still they look solid. She doesn’t know exactly what she is looking for but she pokes around the debris until she finds a box heavily soaked with the deluge of water. Inside she finds her replacement diplomas from college. She takes them up and puts them inside the trunk of her car and goes back into the garage this time making a very surreal trip into the house through the door into the kitchen. This time instead of the scent of fudge there is only the scent of burnt wood and damp ash. For the first time since the fire, she starts to cry. The tears are flowing freely down her face as the heat of anger builds to the boiling point within her. Now she knows she has their undivided attention, and that as long as she continues with her work no one else has to worry about them. She had killed to protect the innocent and would kill again to continue to protect them. Her life’s mission had changed against her will but she would leave her mark even if no one knew who left it. Now she carefully walks through the house poking at the boards with her foot before taking any step. Room by room she roams knowing she won’t find anything but memories, but memories are what she is looking for. In the spare bedroom closet just where it was supposed to be is her leather racing suit now all black from the heat and soot, it smells of fire but is still in good enough condition to offer her protection. In the floor below sit her racing boots like the suit completely blackened by the heat but still serviceable. She takes her suit and boots back out to her car and lays them out over the hood hoping to air them a little bit before she has to put them in the trunk. She pokes around awhile longer but only turns up some soggy books and bits and pieces of barely recognizable objects.

She is pulled from her time killing search with the arrival of the shipping container. To her surprise it arrives on the back of a roll off tow truck. It is no bigger than eight foot by eight foot and about six to seven feet high. The truck pulls up and parks as Wren makes her way out of the burnt shell of the house.

“I’m looking for Wren James.”

“That’s me.”

“Well this is your container then. If you wouldn’t mind I’ll need to see some identification then I can unload it for you.”

Wren gets out her license and her marriage identification card to show him, and soon he turns the truck around and rolls off the container.

“It’s scheduled for pick up on the morning of July the eleventh destination Lima Peru, care of Doctor Jose Hernandez. You will need to provide your own locks. It should be locked and ready for pick up as early as midnight on the day of pick-up you’ll find the lock information in this packet. Any questions?”

“Well I was expecting something a little larger.”

“This is a standard air cargo container Ma’am and it is what I was instructed to deliver.”

“And it will do just fine, I’ll just have to make it do. Thank you.”

MauraAlwyen.com

Victim 18 Post 42

After lunch Wren once again finds herself on the phone only this time with a very friendly Cabella’s customer service representative as she orders what would be her and Norman’s new home for the next two years. Tent, cooking gear, wood stoves, deluxe cots, everything the two of them could imagine needing and some things the representative was able to suggest after Wren explained what all this gear was for. The total was staggering but then again for an entire house and its contents delivered in two weeks it wasn’t all that bad. At five-thirty Wren calls Margaret to let her know they are back in town and what had happened.

“Why don’t you two come stay with me? I’ve got plenty of room and there really isn’t much point in trying to rent anything for the little bit you’ll be around town.”

“I’ll talk to Norman about that but for now we are kind of settled in our hotel room and the insurance is picking up the cost for now. The adjuster started his investigations this afternoon and might be able to give us an answer tomorrow. I’ve had some offers from a couple of developers in the past and with my new job and the house being gone it would make it easier to take the money and walk away.”

“A hundred and fifty acres sitting where it is would bring a very nice price and would give you a very good fresh start when your contract expires.”

“Yes it would, besides I’ve been trying to figure out how to cover the property taxes on it in the future as it keeps going up in value.”

“I can certainly understand that. Well you and Norman will be wanting dinner and we can talk later so just remember my offer.”

“I will Mom.”

Norman gives her a puzzled look as he sits down on the opposite side of the vacant desk.

“I didn’t know you had been approached by developers about your land.”

“Well I never really shared that with anyone because I never intended to sell but, like I told Mom with the house gone it is a lot simpler.”

“How much have you been offered?”

“The last offer was for seven hundred fifty thousand.”

“A lot of money, it would be best handled by a tax attorney then the remainder put into an offshore account.”

“A tax attorney? Why, you’re a lawyer, couldn't you do it?”

“Abraham Lincoln once said something like this, “A man who represents himself has a fool for a client.” I do not even try to act like I understand tax law, I know a guy that owes me a favor who does. I'll give him a call in the morning. How did the ordering go earlier?”

“Fine, we should see everything in about two weeks. They’ll call right before delivery to confirm the shipping address and then we just have to get it all sent to Peru.”

The rest of the evening is spent eating dinner and starting to search down little things that they will need that they couldn’t get from Cabella’s. The next morning Wren is up long before Norman and sitting in the bathroom so as not to disturb him, as she starts back to looking through Hacker’s laptop. The list is getting thinner but she knows the last few will be the worst.

“Josh Standard, works at Missouri Baptist hospital, two different vehicles, a two thousand Chevy cavalier and a nineteen eighty Harley-Davidson. I wonder if he still lives on Tuxedo Boulevard, I guess there is really only one way to know for sure.”

Having chosen her next mark she closes up the laptop and climbs into the shower. She wakes up Norman half an hour later and once he is in the shower starts to contemplate how to deal with mister Standard.

“What are you up to?”

“Contemplating.”

“Your next mark?”

“Yea, I think we’ll make a slight detour down Tuxedo Boulevard on our way to your office this morning.”

Taking forty-four to Big Bend Wren heads up what turns out to be anything but a short distance. After several miles they spot Tuxedo and make the left onto the side street. Just a few houses down and there it is the white cavalier sitting in the street in front of the house and a man on a Harley just looking to pull out of the driveway. He looks along the busy street and stares at Wren for only a moment then narrowly avoids being hit as he takes off in a flash back the way Wren has just come.

“You know dear, I think he was expecting you.”

“You get that impression too? Funny thing is I wouldn’t dream of doing him in here, too many witnesses. But I now have an idea what his bike looks like.”

“So I guess it’ll be soon.”

“Tonight. I think I’ll drop you off at work then I’m going to try to find some replacement books for my new job and then I’ll pick you up for lunch.”

“Sounds fine to me.”

Wren spends most of her morning talking to her old professors and accumulating a list of recommended reading materials and reference books to take along with her to Peru. The rest of the time is spent in various book stores scattered across the city. It is close to one before she finally picks up Norman for lunch.

“I was beginning to wonder if you had forgotten about our lunch date.”

“Sorry, I got a little tied up with picking up books.”

“That’s alright I just need to be back about a quarter to two because I have an important meeting at two.”

“Well, how about that little sub shop around the corner.”

“Works for me. I spoke to Doctor Hernandez a little bit ago.”

“Oh! I forgot about the express letter coming in this morning. Why didn’t you call me?”

“It arrived late, about eleven thirty and I figured I’d see you within about half an hour. Anyway as I was saying, he has already arranged for a shipping container to be delivered for your gear to be transported in. I went ahead and agreed to have it sent to our previous address. I looked through the paperwork he sent and it all looks pretty straight forward. They agree to cover the cost of my arrival, my food and benefits, and an additional ten thousand a year in pay.”

“Well that’s good.”

“I thought so, I also heard from my car insurance company and they will be delivering a check tomorrow for my truck. Your homeowners adjuster agrees with the fire marshal that it was definitely an act of arson. However, since we have airtight alibis as to our whereabouts, everything was paid for and we would not show any monetary gains by the destruction of the property they have agreed to cut a check for the actual replacement cost of the house so about one hundred fifty thousand dollars.”

“Well, that will more than pay for our gear.”

“I kind of thought that myself. I made a few calls and started setting up an offshore bank account for us.”

“Why?”

“Well, I think it is safer than leaving our money in an account here. If they ever found out about you the very first thing they would do is to freeze all of your assets. I found a bank with an office in Cuzco and another here in Chicago. It means a trip to Chicago but I think it will be worth it in the long run.”

“I’m going to trust you on the legal stuff. If you think it best it probably is. When did they say the shipping container would be delivered?”

“The day after tomorrow, that’s the earliest I could get it. Speaking of which, we also need to start making our flight arrangements soon.”

“My cousin Abby is a travel agent and can handle that for us, I’ll call her after lunch. So did Doctor Hernandez say when we should be there?”

“Yes the shipping container is to be picked up on July the eleventh and we are to meet him at his office on August first.”

“Not much time, not much at all. We need to be in Lima by July thirtieth.”

“Why not the thirty-first?”

“Peru is ninety percent Roman Catholic and very orthodox, you’d never get around on a Sunday so we need to be there by Saturday.”

“Well we need to be getting back and I’ll leave the transportation to you.”

For all things Maura or to help support her endeavors MauraAlwyen.com

Victim 18 Post 41

“Norman head on back to the hotel this is going to be slow going and I’m afraid of you being seen and your presence questioned.”

“All right but I really don’t like this idea.”

“I know, I’m scared too, for both of us.”

“Where are you now?”

“Somewhere alongside highway thirty, why?”

“I’ll make one quick loop and if the coast is clear you can jump in.”

“All right I’d say I’m just north of Gravois and highway thirty.”

She sits in the shadows along the road side as she waits for the Mustang once again. She sees Norman drive past the deserted road going the other direction as he turns around at the flashing red light. She checks both ways that no one is coming then steps out onto the shoulder. The car pulls up and the trunk opens, Wren tosses in everything including herself and slams the lid. She feels the car start moving as it accelerates to highway speed and her phone starts to ring.

“What’s up lover boy?”

“I’m just going to head toward the motel if all is clear I’ll let you out there.”

“Sounds fine to me. At least this time I know you're only a call away.”

Shortly she feels the car stop and the engine shut off then she hears the key inside the lock and for the second time in her life she is freed from her own car’s trunk.

With Norman's help she soon strips herself of her latex skin and after a quick shower they both head to bed falling asleep as soon as their heads hit their pillows.

The next morning the young couple wake early and after a quick breakfast Norman pulls up in front of the post office and Wren goes in. She comes back out soon though with a sizable pile of mail in her hands.

“Anything interesting?”

“Electric bill, Archeology today, hmm, this is interesting.”

“What is it?”

“A letter from Lima Peru, department of antiquities.”

Wren opens the letter and starts to read:


Dr. Jose Hernandez
Director of antiquities
National historic conservation dept.
Lima, Peru

Dear Miss. Robbins,

I have received your letter and resume and upon its review and consultation with your professors who had nothing but praise of your work and consultation with others within our ministry I have decided to offer you a position within our department.

Your supervisor will be Dr. Manuel Garcia he is in charge of all high altitude investigational areas and is in need of a self motivated and energetic assistant for a new site. We have recently found a site situated in the general area of Machu Pichu it is approximately one hundred fifty meters higher in elevation and six kilometers Southeast. Most of the work thus far has been spent in getting an access trail established to the site and the initial survey work of the mountain top.

The job we are offering would be to oversee the excavation of this new site. This will require living on site. We will provide all necessary supplies for cataloging and storage/shipping containers for the artifacts. We will also provide all food and fuel for camp operations. Re-supplies will be flown in by military helicopter when required such as over winter. However to protect digging most supplies will come by burrow.

You will need to supply your own tools, personal quarters (i.e. tent), personal living items (i.e. sleeping bags, pillows, etc.), cooking gear, lighting, and so forth.

We can offer you a yearly salary of thirty-five thousand U.S. plus food, medical, dental, and vision benefits.

Attached you will find a copy of the employment contract and a site map. Please sign and return the contract as soon as possible. If you do not find the terms acceptable please contact me so we can either work out the details or I can get in touch with our second choice. Either way I hope to hear from you soon and look forward to meeting you around the first part of August.

Sincerely,

Jose Hernandez


“The first part of August?”

“Well, that makes sense for their digging season but, it doesn’t leave me much time to finish my work here.”

“Not much at all and if it’s not done will you leave?”

“I don’t think I could, not at this point.”

“Peru, there’s no extradition treaty with them. So even if they did figure out you were doing in this gang they couldn’t bring you back.”

“But what about you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean we’re married and I need to know what you think about this. Two years on top of a mountain, giving up your law career, and leaving everything behind. Can you really be alright with this?”

“I will go wherever you go. I may not like the risks you are taking now, but I love you and I will sacrifice what I need to, to know you’re safe. Now what do we need for this new job?”

“We’ll need to supply pretty much everything we need, except food. And there’s not many places where we can get all of what we need. It’s a two year contract that’s good. By the map they sent they’ve allowed a fairly decent sized area for the workers camp and they even marked off a separate area for me. Let’s see ten meters by fifteen meters that is about thirty feet by fifty feet. Pretty good size area sheltered on two sides by the mountain itself.”

“Two years of consistent oversight?”

“Well that could only mean we’ll have to winter it up there.”

“What are winters like there and at that altitude?”

“I would assume they couldn’t be all that bad or the Inca’s wouldn’t have built an entire city up there. We on the other hand will not have as good a housing as they did. A tent will be cold if not properly outfitted. I’m going to have to come in to work with you so I can use the internet and start looking for gear.”

“Well a two year camping trip in a cold drafty home, sounds kind of like growing up. But that is to our advantage, I know how to survive without modern conveniences, I can build with hand tools and I even learned how to thatch roofs.”

“I can live off the land with the knowledge passed down to me from Dad and Painted Buffalo and from spending time with her and from digs in college I have no problem living without too many modern conveniences.”

“So I take it, it's settled then?”

“I’ll give him a call this morning and talk to him once we’re at your office and you can look over the contracts.”

As they drive on to Norman’s office Wren pulls a pen out of her purse and starts writing a list on the back of the large white envelope from Peru. By the time they’re parked she has a fairly sizable list already compiled and it is still growing when she gets out of the car. They head on into his office unlocking the door as they go. Wren follows Norman into his office and turns on the speaker phone then starts dialing the number on the letter where a woman answers in rapid Spanish forcing Wren to also speak in Spanish although much slower.

“Hello department of Antiquities Doctor Hernandez’s office.”

“This is Wren Robbins is Doctor Hernandez in?”

“Per his instructions he is in if you call, please hold and I will get him for you.”

“Jose Hernandez speaking, am I right in hearing that this is Miss Robbins?”

“Well it was, now it is Mrs. James.”

“Congratulations, but this also saddens me as I now know why you have taken so long to call and I must need to contact my second choice.”

“Actually I took so long because I was on my honeymoon when your letter arrived and I was calling to discuss your terms and conditions seeing as I have a partner that will be coming with me.”

“Your husband wishes to join you?”

“Yes sir if that would be alright with you.”

“Oh it is perfectly fine I personally had some reservations about having you alone up there. I will need a copy of your marriage certificate but I can extend to your husband the same benefits I offer you and the additional food for him as well. Does he speak Spanish?”

For the first time Norman enters the conversation in perfect Latin.

“No Latin is as close as I can come but it is pretty close.”

“Yes as you say it is very close and you should get along just fine. If you don’t mind sir what is your occupation?”

“Lawyer.”

“Ah a very learned man indeed. Then you can appreciate the level of education your wife has. I will send you a new contract today and you should have it tomorrow.”

“That would be fine but you’ll need to send it to a different address. The old one is no good anymore.”

Wren gives him the address for Norman’s office and after a few cordial goodbyes she hangs up the phone and turns to Norman.

“Five weeks, not a lot of time to finish and gather the gear.”

“I know from our little foray into camping gear that finding that amount of gear isn’t going to be easy. I mean where do you even start?”

“For that type and quantity of gear the only place I know of is Cabella’s.”

“Well why don’t you leave the contract with me and you can start looking on the web.”

Several hours later and several calls to her insurance company later Wren has started to accumulate a rather lengthy list of gear when Norman comes in to find her.

“Want some lunch?”

“Yea, sure.”

“Anything wrong?”

“Oh just adding up the cost of the gear thus far and realizing it’s going to cost a fortune to ship let alone buy.”

“Well shipping won’t be too much of a problem, your new employer has agreed to cover the shipping cost of all your gear.”

“That’s good now all I have to do is get the gear to ship before we arrange a shipping date. Take a look at this tent and tell me what you think.”

“Nice looking, kind of reminds me of something from the gold rush days. I think I would go with the twelve by seventeen model and get a cook shack for each end.”

“Why so much?”
“Kind of lets you separate your living area from storage and work by kind of giving you an office. And they would add extra warmth in the winter because each end has an entire extra room to keep the wind off. A set of tarps along the guy lines to the ground and a rain fly would help with the sides and roof. Depending on the native surroundings you might be able to find some insulating materials to build up along the sides. I’ve seen some remarkable insulating material at the lumber yard that would work great for the roof.”

“You know you are amazing. You think we need a stove in each unit?”

“I would, I’d put the largest you can get in the main tent and a smaller one in each end so you could light them if it gets really cold.”

“With as short a notice as we have, how are we going to pay for all this? I can’t charge it.”

“We’ll just use my debit card and until we get some cash from the insurance on the house and truck we’ll just have to watch what we spend out of it. Now let’s go get some lunch while we try to make up a list of what we are going to need for this.”

MauraAlwyen.com

Victim 18 Post 40

CHAPTER 10
BIKE RACE

It’s six in the evening when Wren and Norman pull back into the driveway and see the horrible sight that neither of them are prepared for. Sitting before them is the still smoldering, burned out hulk of Wren’s house. A Springdale fire department truck sitting in the driveway keeping an eye on the pile of ashes and cinders. A sign in the front yard reads “We know where you are and we will get you!” They pull up in front of the fire truck as a fireman walks up to them.

“Are you familiar with the owners of this house?”

“I am the owner.”

“Well I hate to say we did the best we could but this was a definite case of arson and it just spread too fast. We were able to push out the bike but I’m afraid the truck is a total loss. Now if you two could just wait here the sheriff and fire marshal will need to talk to you.”

He walks away without them saying a word. The two of them get out of the car with Norman walking around the debris field and Wren walking up to her bike. Some of the plastic fairing is scorched and distorted from the heat but otherwise it seems fine. Norman is standing on what was left of the front porch looking through the remains of the living room window at the charred debris field beyond.

“Hey you guys got a long hooked pole?”

“Yea why?”

“There’s something I’d like to try to get.”

One of the firemen comes over and looks in the window with Norman as Wren and the other fireman come up beside them.

“Over there kind of in the corner near the remains of the chair you can just see a handle.”

The fireman extends the pole and carefully hooks the handle and starts pulling it toward him as a sheriff's patrol car followed by the fire marshals red car pull into the driveway. The case out of the house and safely in Norman's hands they all head over to the cars.

“What’s in the case sir.”

“Wren’s portfolio if it survived.”

He opens the case and with a slight sigh of relief all seems to have survived with little or no damage. The rest of the evening is spent answering questions and providing alibis as to their whereabouts during the time of the fire. When all is said and done Wren is left feeling hot and angry.

“Come on honey let's find some dinner and a place to stay.”

“What about my bike?”

“Well I guess we need to have it towed in and looked over before you try to drive it.”

After a couple of phone calls they sit in the car and wait for the tow truck.

“I’m glad I didn’t leave the Predator or the laptop in the house while we were gone.”

“I am too, though I assume this means your work has to pick up its pace.”

“Yes, it does.”

They sit in relative silence for the next half hour waiting for the tow truck to arrive. After a short quiet dinner they find a room and unload some of their gear and clothes. Wren almost immediately sits down at the desk with the laptop scanning the remaining people on the list.

“Find anything honey?”

“John Gristmond, number twenty Mockingbird hill, laborer for JH Berra construction. Don’t wait for me.”

“Oh no, not again this time you know I won't do that.”

“No Norman not this time I’ve already risked you enough, you're already an accessory to the last hit because you drove me there and away. Uncle Jacob helped you with your sins, let's not add mine to yours. I promise to be careful and to hurry back.”

“You know I’m already an accessory simply by keeping my mouth shut.”

“No Norman I can’t let you.”

“As long as we both keep our mouths shut we are in this together and there is no stopping that or turning back now. So let's get you changed.”

Once changed Norman checks the lot and heads to the car. The Predator emerges from their hotel room shortly after and quickly hops into the car next to Norman clutching a small bag.

“What’s with the bag?”

“Clothes, just in case.”

Soon they are heading down Highway thirty in the dark. Just after ten they enter an unfinished subdivision. The skeletal framework of incomplete houses looming up in the thin light of the quarter moon. Complete houses scattered about the cleared field, sprinklers watering new sown sod, light shining through naked windows or from behind drawn curtains. Partially finished houses with their shiny foil skin glisten with the reflections of the moon. Down the dark quiet streets Norman drives as Wren watches for Mockingbird Hill.

“This is it Norman let me out here.”

He stops the car and Wren pops the trunk as she gets out. Reaching in the trunk she pulls out her rifle and backpack slips the rifle’s sling over her shoulder then clutching the pack’s straps, she heads down the street after her quarry. Out of sight of the road she stops and opens her pack to put on her goggles and continues on down the lane. Carefully she threads her way through the tangled mess that is a construction site. Past the open pits that eventually will be basements, carefully crossing trenches for sewers and water until she finally stands before number twenty. Looking around the house the only lights are on the second floor in the back of the house and there seems no way of reaching them. Then a plan presents itself and she heads over two more streets where she can see several unfinished houses. Searching around these she finds one with several ladders still set in place by the roofers. Scaling the ladder she ascends to the peak. Scanning the terrain around her she quickly locates number twenty once again and removing the gun slung to her back she lays down on the black tar paper of the roof still hot from the sun. Slipping off her goggles and pulling the gun tight to her shoulder she peers through the scope and turns the zoom to get a better image of what’s inside his house.

“The lights are on but nobody's home.”

Her statement seems to be completely true for a very long time. As her eyes start to ache from the constant peering through the scope and her head starts to nod she spots a vehicle pulling into the driveway and turns her scope on it. What should be a dark blue Dodge truck appears instantly in her scope and she watches the truck until she is sure it's him. As he gets out there is no doubt in her mind that she has the right man as he looks around with a very bright flashlight scanning everywhere as far as the beam will reach. Almost instinctively she pulls the butt of the gun tight to her shoulder as she squeezes the trigger. Suddenly the flashlight falls to the ground along with the head of its one time owner and the Predator is climbing back down the ladder and heading back toward highway thirty. As she nears Meadowlark lane she takes her phone from her pack and calls Norman to pick her up.

She sits in the dark skeleton of a house at the corner of Hummingbird Lane and Meadowlark waiting for Norman as she hides behind the sheeting on its corner. A few paper wrappers blow about upon the floor of the house in the occasional gust of wind. Every sound makes her jump, the scrape of the papers, the moaning and creaking of the skeleton as the wind pushes and twists the building. It takes several minutes for a car to appear on the road in front of her. She waits for it to get closer before she approaches and just as she starts to head toward it she sees the lights on its top. It goes by slowly as it turns down Hummingbird. She quickly pulls out her phone and calls Norman.

“Norman, where are you?”

“Almost there.”

“DON’T just head on into High Ridge I’ll call you again later.”

“What’s up?”

“There’s a cop that just headed down the road over here. I’ll cross overland and meet back up with you.”

“Be careful and hurry out of there I just got passed by two more cops apparently in a hurry.”

Wren watches intently for the other cop cars knowing that all too soon there will be way too many to allow movement around the area. The two cars go zooming past and she starts making her way in the direction that she knows the highway to lie in. She slips her night vision goggles back out of her pack and slips the pack onto her shoulders. Carrying the rifle in her hands she begins to dog trot through the woods. The going is slowed by the thick growth of early summer vines and brush but she moves steadily toward her goal. Coming to the highway she turns right and heads North along the side staying hidden within the woods and brush as she crosses the bluffs and valleys, with the occasional siren of a police cruiser making her freeze in her tracks. Her fears soon have her on the phone once again.

MauraAlwyen.com

Victim 18 Post 39

“Hey, lover boy, you fancy a dip in the pool before dinner.”

“I didn’t bring a suit but I’d be happy to watch you from the side.”

“Not a problem here you go!”

She tosses Norman a small wrapped package which he quickly unwraps then holds the contents in the air.

“What is it?”

“It’s a Speedo silly you wear them to go swimming.”

“It’s nothing I’ve ever worn before.”

“No, that's because I got it for you while I was out the other day. I think they're a lot sexier than the norm and besides they're quite popular in Europe.”

“I’ll try it but only because it’s for you.”

They both change and start toward the pool. Down the hall they meet up with Wren’s mom as she is heading to the same place. Once at the pool they turn out to have the whole thing to themselves much to Norman’s pleasure. Norman slips out of his house coat and quickly slips into the water.

“Does he always wear a Speedo?”

“No it’s his first time actually.”

Wren kicks off her heels and drops her swimsuit cover, tossing it over Norman's house coat.

“Wren! A thong! Alright!”

Wren stares at her mother, her nerves having been on edge ever since they met up with her in the hall not knowing what to expect her mom to say about the choice of her brick red thong and heels.

“You’re fine with it?”

“I know what you're thinking and I’m so sorry for the past. But yes I’m fine with it. I only wish I still had the body to wear one.”

They play around in the pool for a good hour before people start coming down and with minimal discussion they all feel it is time to grab some dinner and a good night's sleep.

The next day finds them up early and on the long lonely road across South Dakota on interstate ninety. Their trip goes fast and smooth even with the stop at Wall Drug to settle both Norman and Margret’s curiosity as to what all the signs were about. They pull into the ranch’s driveway around six that night with the sun heading toward the horizon. The evening chill of June just starting to settle onto the landscape and the first to greet them as they step out of their cars.

“Wren I am so happy to see you back so soon and this must be Norman.”

“Yes Grandma this is my husband Norman and this is my mom Margaret.”

“After all these years I finally get to meet my son’s wife and my daughter’s mother.”

Margaret drops to her knees bowing her head so that her hair sweeps the ground before Rose’s feet.

“I owe you the deepest apology I can offer for the way I treated your son and the disgrace I brought upon him. I am truly sorry right down to the core of my being and hope you can forgive me for what I have done.”

“Forgiveness is given by those to whom the insult was dealt. For our part we have forgiven what we can. The rest is between you and Wankan Tanka.”

“Wankan Tanka?”

“That is the name of the great spirit, of God, mom.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t know, and believe me I pray for his forgiveness and for that of John’s everyday.”

“Then get up and I’ll show you to your lodges. Wren I hope you don’t mind if I put you in a lodge instead of the spare room. With the wedding I had to save it for someone even more important.”

“Who else is coming?”

“Well, that room is being saved for the priest but beyond him all kinds of people are coming but I won’t say who because it might ruin the surprise. Anyway at the request of Painted Buffalo we set up your lodges at her end of the ranch.”

Wren smiles, then tears start down her cheeks as she breaks out into a whole hearted laugh.

“Dear, what's so funny?”

“Oh not much that you won't figure out soon enough. Let’s get mounted up then.”

Norman and Margaret share a quizzical look between them as Wren heads to the back of the Mustang and starts removing bags of clothes. Rose picks up a few things and leads the three of them around the side of the house to find her Grandpa sitting on the tailgate of his old truck.

“First there is no need to apologize to me. I heard you earlier and agree with Rose. Second, I didn't know how much riding experience these two have so I thought the truck might be a better idea.”

“Thanks grandpa, this is Norman, Norman this is my grandpa Abraham.”

Norman gives Wren a puzzled look which she instantly understands.

“You were expecting some exotic name like Running Bear. The truth is though that all the men in grandpa’s family are named after men from the Bible. My dad’s name was John I have an uncle Noah and an uncle Luke you get the idea.”

“Come on, we need to get moving so you can be at your lodges before dark. Norman, why don’t you ride up front with me so I can get to know you a little better.”

Norman climbs into the cab of the truck with her grandpa while Margaret, Rose and Wren all climb into the back. Wren sits up against the center of the cab while her grandma sits by the right wheel well and her mom on the left.

“You know Wren I always thought you favored the O’Malley’s but seeing you with your grandma you are almost a carbon copy except for the hair color.”

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing about you.”

The three women having found something in common sit and chat on the bumpy forty minute drive across the ranch. It’s sundown and nearly seven when they pull to a stop by the barn. There alongside Painted Buffalo’s lodge are two more teepees, a light gray smoke rising out of the smoke holes of each. Painted Buffalo crosses the bridge to greet them as they all climb out of the truck.

“Wren I really like this guy, for a white man he was raised right.”

“You weren’t playing twenty questions all this time were you grandpa?”

“Actually it was thirty-eight.”

“Now Norman you're exaggerating a bit aren’t you?”
“Let it go grandpa, he's a lawyer, it’s in his nature to keep track of these things.”

“Welcome, Wren and family.”

“Hello, Painted Buffalo Woman, this is my husband Norman, and my mother Margaret.”

“I am pleased to have finally met both of you. Wren have you explained my land to your family?”

“No I have not, I felt that would be better left to you seeing as you have done the inviting.”

“Good, well I have a few rules when people are on my land. First only Lakota may be spoken past the creek. Now I know this will be a problem for those of you that do not speak Lakota so, during your stay I will allow Wren to translate what you need to know. Second I allow no modern devices, electronics or gizmos. Third, I expect to have help when I need it. I am after all an older woman and can not begin to manage to take care of all of you as well as my own family. Fourth I try to do things in the traditional ways in everything I do except I make some exceptions for personal hygiene. Finally I will change my mind without notice on most anything that strikes my fancy at the time. Any questions?”

“Will we get a warning before you change your mind?”

“I already like him Wren, he’s funny.”

They all follow Wren’s aunt into the barn and down a short staircase into a basement room. Inside it looks like a fairly modern family room with a projection T.V., a small refrigerator and microwave along the back wall. Just past the refrigerator is another door and inside a small modern office.

“You can leave your modern electronics and such in here where I assure you they will be perfectly safe.”

Wren, having been here several times in the past, is already putting her stuff into her box, and up on a shelf over the door. She chuckles quietly to herself as she watches Norman and her Mother struggle with what they are seeing.

“Now if you will all follow me I’ll lead you to your lodges.”

They all follow her back up and out of the barn then across the bridge. Wren and Painted Buffalo are busy chatting away in a language totally unfamiliar to Norman and Margaret as they head toward two tepees. Painted Buffalo stops beside the smaller of the two and waves Margaret to follow her as she steps through the flap. Margaret follows her in and Wren follows her motioning for Norman to stay outside. Soon Wren and her aunt reemerge and with a few more strange words and a hug they part. Wren motions for Norman to follow her and she leads him to the larger of the two teepees as Painted Buffalo heads to her own large lodge.

They approach the traditional lodge hand in hand and Wren shows Norman how to unbutton the flap and enter. They enter the warm lodge leaving the chill of the South Dakota night behind them. Norman is surprised to see a ring of stones with a fire right in the middle of the teepee. On the other side of the fire is a bed of pelts and hides with two very out of place pillows which Norman notices with a laugh.

“Pillows?”

“She said she did make a few exceptions.”

Norman sets their suitcases down along the edge of the wall as Wren starts removing her clothes. Soon she is sitting beside the fire on a piece of hide, its warmth soaking into her body as she relaxes within its flickering glow. Norman watches her not always knowing what to make of her sometimes strange seeming habits. She appears to be in a calm piece at this time and decides that maybe this time he would try what it is she is doing. Soon without saying a word to her Norman is sitting naked on a piece of hide directly across from Wren. He isn’t sure what to do so he just sits there and watches her. They sit there for quite sometime Wren with her eyes closed unmoving and utterly silent showing no sign of movement save for her slow rhythmic breathing. Norman with his eyes open and quite still slowly falling into her trance with her when he is startled back by one of the logs falling as it settles in the fire. Wren opens her eyes slowly as if she is forcing herself back into her body and relearning how it works. Norman has gotten up and is adding a couple more pieces of wood to the shrinking fire.

“Norman I never would have expected you to be sitting here with me.”

“I was trying to get closer to you by sharing what you care for, but I don’t think I was going about it quite right. What were you doing anyway and how did you know I was sitting here with you?”

“I’ll have to teach you but not tonight it’s getting late and I’m very tired.”

Soon they are in bed, their own bare skin snuggled up in pelts and hides.

As is her custom Wren awakes early the next morning, looking up through the smoke hole she can see stars but not the moon. She knows that with the moon low the day is nearing its start, she stands and stretches then places a couple of pieces of wood upon the fire. Pulling out her old buckskin dress from her luggage and slipping it on she braids her hair into her two traditional plaited braids. With her moccasins on she heads out the door to relieve her aching bladder. The half moon bright in the clear uncluttered sky is indeed low and nearing the horizon. After relieving herself she collects the water jug to take to the well. Looking at the sky she guesses it is near four as looking east the deep purple sky heralding the sunrise yet to come is already forming. She brings the water back to the center of camp walking past a seemingly dark shadow of rock.

“Good morning Aunt.”

“Humph, How did you know I was here?”

“I saw you, it isn’t that dark out. Remember I’m a hunter. I've been trained by some of the best to notice the differences in the world around me.”

“Yes, your training has made you an excellent Predator.”

“What are you driving at?”

“You know that which I speak.”

“I wish you didn’t.”

“How close are you to completion?”

“Five to go, but I really don’t wish to discuss this any further.”

“As you wish, but thank you for confirming my thoughts on the matter. I have been seeing the news reports and I became really curious. Is Norman a hunter?”

“Yes, though he doesn’t get too many chances.”

“Like you since Elizabeth passed on to her next life.”

“Yea, something like that. So what is up with Norman and hunting?”

“I was wondering if you thought he would like to go with Ron to bring in the meat for tomorrow’s festivities.”

“That would be up to him but I don’t think he has ever hunted in the traditional ways before. It might be best if I went instead.”

“No this is a man thing and as such he needs to perform the hunt.”

“I understand, would you like me to ask him?”

“Yes, Ron will be getting up soon and soon after he’ll want to leave for the east acreage.”

“The east acreage? So you intend to bring in a ta tanka for the feast?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll go wake him.”

Wren leaves her aunt and enters her tepee walking over to Norman.

“Norman wake up, I need to ask you something.”

“Good morning Wren, I’m glad you're speaking in a way I can understand, it is fascinating to hear you talking to Painted Buffalo Woman but I honestly can’t make out anything you're saying.”

“Well, since you seem to be wide awake, how would you like to go hunting with uncle Ron?”

“Uncle Ron, an odd name for your family isn’t it?”

“He married in, but how about it?”

“It is expected of me isn’t it?”

“Very perceptive of you, how soon can you be ready?”

“Give me five minutes.”

“Good I’ll tell Painted Buffalo.”

“Well my aunt, he will be out shortly.”

“Good Ron will be right back and they can be going.”

Soon Ron and Norman are seen trotting across the dark plain heading toward the lightening sky. Margaret is soon up with Painted Buffalo and Wren in the barn helping to prepare food for the coming feast. Late in the morning Rose joins them and when the men return with their prize they are all singing and carrying on like old friends. Late in the day before supper Abraham arrives with another surprise.

“Uncle Jacob! Are you the one they got for the ceremony?”

“You better believe it, I couldn’t let just anyone marry my spitfire of a great niece now could I?”

“Uncle this is Norman.”

“Pleased to meet you, I’ve heard some about you from Abe but I’m a might bit interested to talk to you and get to know you a little better.”

“Norman uncle Jacob is a priest so we will be recognized by the church.”

“Good I really wondered how that would eventually be worked out.”

The men set to the heavy work of cleaning and preparing the buffalo for the next day's festivities while the women ready the other foods. It is well into the evening with the sun dipping below the horizon and the cool night air drifting across the plain when the women come out to find the men. They had just got the large roasting spit set into place and slowly turning over the low fire and its bed of coals. Wren and Margaret are carrying a large iron pot full of beans between them followed by Rose and Painted Buffalo with their bowls of corn bread and butter. They all sit around the warmth of the fire eating and talking until late into the night when they all one by one head off to bed.

Wren awakes late, the sky through the smoke hole already the deep purple of early morning. Sitting facing her on the other side of the fire in a full lotus is her naked husband, eyes closed head back as though looking through the smoke hole deep into the sky. She lays propped on her right arm and watches him for sometime before he opens his eyes and looks back at her.

“How long have you been up?”

“A while, you?”

“Couldn’t really sleep so I thought I’d try your idea of relaxation and see if it would help.”

“And did it?”

“I think so, I think I actually drifted off while I sat here because I had the weirdest dreams.”

“Like what?”

“Oh most of it I can’t remember but just pure nonsense.”

“Well, why don’t you lie down and try to get some sleep for a while.”

“What are you up to?”

“Well I probably should relieve whoever is watching the meat then, I should be getting cleaned up for later.”

“Then I should probably be up and helping too.”

“No, it's still very early to you sleepy head, you lie down and get what sleep you can and I’ll wake you once the sun is up to relieve me from watching the meat.”

Wren leaves Norman to sleep and relieves her grandpa from watching the roasting meat. She sits watching the sun climb over the horizon occasionally basting the roasting meat. Several hours later Uncle Ron comes and relieves her and Painted Buffalo leads her and her Mom away from camp and up the stream some distance well out of view of the camp. There next to the stream is a small stool with soap and a towel waiting for her. Wren undresses and slips into the icy water expecting its breath stealing shock, her Mom however lets out quite a shriek. They wash and after drying wrap their towels around themselves, slip on their shoes and head back to camp. Norman is up and waiting with his towel near the entrance to their tepee, he starts toward them as they near and heads up the stream by himself. Wren her Mom and Painted buffalo each slip into their lodges and pick up their bags and then head to the barn. Many hours later they all emerge from the barn and head out across the prairie. There at the very edge of the badlands are the guests for the wedding. People from all parts of the clans are gathered there and as she looks out across the people she makes out some of her Mom’s relatives. There is Uncle Mike and Aunt Daisy, and there is Sean and Devon. It looks like most of her Mom’s family had made it. And there in the front row was a small group that only could have been Norman’s family. Wren climbs out of the hay wagon carefully brushing off any stray pieces of dirt as she awaits her cue to be led around the crowd and up the aisle by her Grandpa. After what seems like an eternity she very clearly makes out the tune “Here comes the bride” played on a set of bagpipes. They start along the back of the crowd turning and heading up the center row between the people. Wren is awestruck when she looks up the aisle at her husband.

There he stands true to his word in a suit that truly did match her dress perfectly. A full dress kilt in the traditional county Mayo green with red, blue and black crossing through its field. To her he looked very brave and dashing in his Prince Charlie.

Grandpa leads her up the aisle to Norman and placing her hand in his turns and goes back to sit beside grandma. Uncle Jacob then begins to speak.

“Dearly beloved we are all gathered here today, some from near and some from very great distances, while a few others have had to travel not only across land but through many personal obstacles to be here to witness these two young people be joined together in holy matrimony.”

At this point in true Lakota fashion he takes out a strip of bright red cloth and ties one of Wren’s wrists to Norman’s then turning them to face each other he wraps a large lone star blanket around the two of them. Turning around again he removes a censer from where it has been hanging on a small iron rack, he charges it with sage then bowing low to the couple before him he starts swinging the censer toward them bathing them in its smoke. Hanging the censer back on its rack he again turns toward them with his arms outstretched.

“Here stands before us two people brought together by Wankan Tanka from different places each on different paths, each with different goals, each incomplete without the other. Now with his blessing and guidance we witness and assist in their union with each other.

Do you Wren Swan Robbins hereby take this man Norman Walter James to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love, honor and obey. In sickness and in health, for richer and for poorer. Forsaking all others for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”

“And do you Norman Walter James take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife in sickness and in health, for richer and for poorer. Forsaking all others for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”

“Then by the power vested in me by the Roman Catholic Church and the state of South Dakota I do hereby pronounce you man and wife.”

Wrists still bound they turn to face the crowd of relatives and well wishers and are promptly greeted with a round of applause. They walk down the aisle back toward the barn where their reception is to take place and behind them they can hear uncle Jacob’s voice addressing the crowd.

“Everyone remember if you want a place to sit for lunch to take your chair with you.”

The feast lasts until late in the evening with Wren learning much more about Norman from his family and Norman learning that as mysterious as he feels his wife to be it is nothing compared to some of her other relatives. They sleep late into the next day and are encouraged to leave for their week-long honeymoon soon after.

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