Surreal continuing story: walking through doors and passageways

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
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*Where did the demons go?
Hey, they had to go somewhere!

And I don’t mean the toilet!*
Then I see in tiny type in the lower-left-hand corner:

Furndoc Printers
I hand the invitation to Fred. He examines it with his own jeweler’s loupe.

He scowls. “I better show this to Joan Breastly. She handles demonic threats and such stuff—more so than Father Abromowitz could do.”
He uses the magnifier on the invitations he and Alice received.

Where the demonic message appeared on mine, in the corresponding place on the other invitations it just says “Ditto.”
“This sounds like a nasty prank,” Fred says. “I think I’ll ask Ed Fukushima about Furndoc and its employees. Oh—and let’s ask Jock and Lorna, about who made the arrangements for printing the invitations.”

Out of a clear blue sky, I say, “And let’s ask Dennis Walsh. They’re supposed to meet us soon anyway.”
“Good idea,” says Fred. He goes to make some phone calls.

Meanwhile, Alice uses the computer in the Sharps’ library to prepare her translation of the message in Sanskrit, and print it out. And now that the demons have been exorcised from the Blondas’ ingot, she also writes an e-mail to the mining engineer she mentioned.
With the approach of the wedding of Jock and Lorna, the benefit itself is only a few days away. Right after the performance is over, the couple will leave on their honeymoon; they’re going to a nice little hotel in Aspen, Colorado.

Now our entire group has been making phone calls and sending letters and e-mail all over the country, to announce the benefit to friends and relations. Just about all of the performers want relatives to come see the benefit. They swell up the registers of several local hotels; Jack and Eloise own two hotels; George and Betty Galloway own another.
My Mom, Donna Niles, intends to come for the benefit, along with my sister Janet and my brothers Grant and Stephan. Alice has contacted her great-uncle Matthew, in London, and he, too, plans to come.

Now Professor Fields arrives at the Sharps’ mansion, with a portfolio. He speaks to Fred; Fred summons Alice and me to the Green Room. Buster, too, trots into the room and joins us. But Fields speaks separately to Alice and me; while each of us speaks to him the other waits outside the room.
“The civil proceedings of Aalto et al. v. Lemoyne are scheduled to begin shortly after the benefit. Mr. Bartholomew will depose you and Alice in his office; you may appear together for that. Again, you will not see Lemoyne; his lawyer Lee Pitt will cross-examine you.

“Keep in mind that this is a civil proceeding. In a criminal proceeding, of course, the prosecution must establish the defendant’s guilt beyond a reasonable doubt and to a moral certainty; and the prosecution’s discovery rights [access to the other side’s evidence] is limited. In a civil proceeding, the plaintiff must only provide what the law calls a ‘preponderance of evidence’ to win.
“So Mr. Bartholomew just wants each of you to tell, under oath, what you know of what happened just before the medical building collapsed—and whether you happened on the scene.”

I remember the dreary life I had in the alternate reality Lemoyne chose for me—not that this would be wise to elaborate on under oath—along with the phone call and the rumble. I got to the building in time to see Dr. Lute Tigner die after the fireman toted him out of the collapsed building; and I remember what I found on his body.
Considering the brief meeting I had with Alice under those circumstances—her persona was monstrously twisted after the manner of Ma Bailey or Violet Bick (or maybe both) in It’s a Wonderful Life—I can only speculate on what she saw and heard about that time, or whether she knew anything at all about the building.

Now Pete and Loora appear, and Roman Merriwether and Ed Fukushima join them. Ed meets separately with Alice, Mary Blonda, and Louise Brown, while Loora and Merriwether call me into a side room.
“We just thought of this,” says Loora. “Do you remember what happened after you left that first ingot with us?”

“Yes,” I say. “Dawn Korey stole it, along with Ed’s van.”
“Not only that,” says Merriwether, “But the bits with your cell phone and tools weren’t a coincidence—they happened because of that curse. You had removed the ingot from its storeroom, and the demons caused the near-frame-up with the tools and cell phone.”

“It sounds as though they were mistaken about what we were doing,” I say.
“That’s about it,” says Loora. “They finally caught on that you and Alice now owned the ingot—they are slow learners.”

Alice returns, in a happier mood. She carries some pages she just printed. She embraces me, and she tells Fukushima, Merriwether, Loora, and Fred about what she has just translated:

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“Basically, it’s more Hindu mythology about Brahma and how he represents the personalized form of Brahman–the power known as the ‘Absolute’ that lies behind all creation.”

“That sounds interesting,” I comment, “but have you come across anything that looks familiar in relation to Red Nicholas’ activities?”

“So far, no,” Alice answers, “but I haven’t translated everything yet. This could be like a jigsaw puzzle; you can’t really see anything until all the pieces are in place.”

“Perhaps we’ll see more of the big picture if we read these documents with the stuff we got from India,” Fred says as Alice hands him the newly-translated pages.

At that moment, the doorbell rings. A little while later, George Sharp comes into the room and informs me that there’s man at the door who wants to speak to me specifically.

“Did he say who he was?” I ask.

“No, and I’ve never seen the guy either,” answers George. “He seemed to have a real attitude though.”

I excuse myself from the group and walk to the front door where I see…

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…a scruffy man in a sloppy Hawaiian shirt and faded black slacks. He has about three days’ growth of whiskers and I sense he has been drinking a little.
He fixes me with an angry stare and asks, in a scratchy voice, “Are you _______?”

“Yes, I am,” I say, maintaining my composure.
He looks even angrier. He gets almost nose-to-nose with me and growls, “Listen, Buddy—what the hell have you been doing with my wife?”

“Your wife?” I reply. “I don’t know that I have—”
He doesn’t wait for an answer, but grabs the front of my shirt, and starts to swing at me.

Immediately I say, telepathically, “Fred! Mr. Sharp!”
I fend the bum off until Fred and Jack Sharp appear. Fred produces a handy-talkie and says, “Security, front door.”

Before the guards arrive, Mr. Sharp tells the bum, “I’m going to have to ask you to leave!”
“Damn if I’m leaving!” the bum growls. “He’s been screwing with my wife and I’m gonna beat his ass!”

The shouting attracts others of our group to the foyer, including gardener Bob McMillan, Stan Brown, Cornelis Oranjeboom—and Alice. Jack’s guards arrive and restrain the bum.
He sees Alice and croaks, “Christy?”

“Christy?” asks Alice, approaching me.
Now more of our group arrives in the foyer. This includes Professor Fields, Dr. Clouse, and Hermione, who is in mufti and not on duty. Alice’s sister-in-law steps through the group and approaches the bum. She shows her badge.

“Lady cop?” he asks.
“I am Officer Hermione Terwilliger,” she says. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

The bum, taken aback by Hermione’s London accent, obliges and produces his wallet. He hands his driver’s license to Hermione.
“James Corley Pitt,” she says.

“Thash me,” the sot mutters.
Then he suddenly lurches forward and shrieks. He falls, not on the hardwood porch but onto a thick, deep-pile doormat.

Dr. Clouse cries, “Let me through!” She gets through the crowd and gives the man a quick inspection.
“Mr. Moreland, would you bring my M.D. bag?” she says to Fred. He hurries away to get it. Laura Clouse opens the man’s shirt and looks at his pupils. She tells me, “Call 911.” I take out my cell phone and do so, to summon the paramedics.

Fred returns with Laura’s doctor bag. She gets the man’s vital signs and loosens his clothing.
Suddenly she starts CPR. Just then the paramedic truck and the ambulance, sirens blasting, speed up the Sharps’ driveway.

I sense a vague figure moving around the far corner of the mansion. I emit a telepathic message: Jeanette, Jane, go to the northwest corner. Oddly enough, Bob McMillan, the older, husky gardener, also goes over to that corner.
The paramedics bring their equipment up to the porch, and take over the treatment. Dr. Clouse shows her physician ID and fills the paramedics in. They make like Johnny and Roy, and then put the man in the ambulance. Then the vehicles leave. Dr. Clouse goes in the ambulance.

Hermione has me help her fill out a police report.
“He said you were fooling around with his wife?” asks a puzzled Alice, her arms around me. “And who is ‘Christy’?” I shrug. Hey, I haven’t had time for another woman—Alice is always with me. :confused:

Meanwhile, the security guards, who had left the porch when Dr. Clouse took over, had gone out to the corner where I saw the vague figure. They return, hustling a scrawny little man with a big beard—no, he doesn’t look like Clell O’Houlihan—up to the porch. He wears coveralls. One guard carries a burlap sack and holds a shoestring from which hangs a big black crowbar. Jane Bradley and Jeanette Strong, in jogging outfits, follow, along with Bob McMillan. The two stately women’s bodies oscillate vigorously as they walk—neither is wearing underwear.

Jeanette approaches and says to me, “I think this man was working with that bum on the porch—to distract you while he carried out a burglary.”
“I ain’t talking without a lawyer,” the man says in an almost musical tenor voice.

The guards handcuff him; Hermione Mirandizes him and then she proceeds to take a statement from Jeanette and Jane, and Mr. McMillan. Hermione also calls for a black-and-white unit.
Alice and I sit together on the porch swing, reeling from this experience. The others of our group, including Jack and Eloise, and Fred, remain near the front door with us.

“This was a curious experience,” says Alice.

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“If those guys were trying to burgle the house, they certainly picked an odd way to distract us,” I comment.

“Well, that one guy who called by ‘Christy’ was pretty sloshed,” says Alice. “I don’t think being drunk is conducive to plotting a master crime.”

“True,” I reply, “but I did notice somethings about the guy while I was talking with him. Even though he was pretty hammered, I could detect from the tone of his voice and the look of his eye that he really believed that you were his wife Christy and I was fooling around with you.”

“He was right about the second part,” Alice says with a grin.

Fred, overhearing our conversation, has his own theories about Mr. Pitt and the scrawny old guy. He says…

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“I have two theories: James Pitt is a busybody relative of the new attorney Victor Lemoyne has hired; alternatively, he is ‘Lee Pitt’ himself, which would be a damned unprofessional way to behave.”
“Make it a little plainer, Fred,” says Alice.

“Whatever may be his connection with the bearded man, this James Pitt may have wanted to scout you, ________, before you go to give depositions in the civil case,” Fred tells us.
“If so, it’s the kind of thing we’d want to tell the court about—Lemoyne’s lawyer should know better and so should Lemoyne himself.”

“I’m way ahead of you,” says Professor Fields. “In fact I saw all of this that happened, from the time _______ came to the door. I’ll find out from the county bar association who James Pitt is. Right now I’m going to the hospital to talk to Laura Clouse.” He takes some papers and leaves.
Shortly afterward, Hermione returns. She gives Mr. Sharp, Fred, Bob McMillan, Jane, Alice, and me, copies of the police report that she filled out on the incident.

We learn that the scrawny bearded man is named Tony Litton and he is about 63 years old. He refused to speak after Hermione Mirandized him, except to contact an attorney. We knew he would not be able to post bail until the bondsmen’s offices opened on Monday morning. All Jack and Eloise could charge him with was trespassing, and perhaps possession of a tool he could use to pry a window or door open. Neither Pitt nor Litton would admit to knowing the other.
“Well, it’s possible it’s a coincidence,” I suggest. “Maybe Litton is an opportunist and took advantage of Pitt’s appearance at the door.”

Hermione now approaches. She takes a statement from me concerning Pitt’s appearance at the door.
“I didn’t have time to tell Laura or the paramedics about this,” I say. “Pitt’s eyes. His pupils—his eyes are dull gray—were rather large.”

“That could be due to the drinking, or drugs, or both,” Hermione says.
She also takes statements from Alice, Fred, Jeanette, Bob McMillan, and George Sharp. I’d sure like to know what Pitt said to George when he first appeared at the door.

Hermione finishes preparing statements. She gives her information to the officers in a second black-and-white unit that has been parked in the distance. The first unit had already left with Litton. Hermione returns, but says she is going to meet Dr. Clouse—and Dr. Ferruccio Luglio, Anna’s grandfather—at the hospital.
We all go back inside. We have a light lunch prepared by Armand and Lupe, who takes a phone call. Apparently Eloise told Lupe about the men out front, and I can make out bits and pieces of what Lupe says in Spanish. Eloise is also present.

“Who do you suppose those people were?” asks Armand.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” I say. “Hey, I don’t even know that they had anything to do with each other.”

Now our entire group is in the large rec room. We’re making plans for the wedding. Alice, of course, is Maid of Honor, and browses through some catalogs; she says Lorna may ask me to be an usher. Lorna has three bridesmaids; one is Phoebe Atwood and Alice and I don’t know the other two. Jock hasn’t told us who the best man will be, but I think it’s an old friend of his from the Outer Hebrides, named Angus McDonald, with whom Jock practices on the bagpipes.

I ask, “Will Jock wear a tuxedo, or his police dress blues, or the full Dumfries tartan?”
“They haven’t yet decided that,” says Alice. Lorna will wear a bridal gown her mother had worn; it’s a family heirloom. Alice shows me a picture of Lorna’s mother Rachel McManus in the gown; it’s really lovely, as is Mrs. McManus herself. :slight_smile:

Alice says Lorna wants little Jack Sharp II to be the ringbearer. Lorna has picked a neighbor’s little daughter as flower girl. Little Jack sits on his grandmother’s lap and blushes.
After a while, Alice and I go back upstairs. She now wears a light tank top and running shorts—and I sense she has things on her mind other than Lorna’s wedding, Mr. Pitt, the benefit, and the intrigue.

She sits with me on the bed and we read some more of her translations. And then… :wink:

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Alice gets up on her knees and wraps her arms around my shoulders. She then rests her head on my right shoulder and sighs.

“Sometimes I get the feeling that once we find out everything about Red Nicholas, we’re not going to like what we know,” she says.

“I’ve had that feeling myself,” I tell her. “But it hasn’t done anything to quell my curiosity.”

“I guess were both inherently inquisitive–and foolhardy,” Alice comments before she kisses my right cheek.

Things are about to get a lot more amorous, when we hear a loud thunk coming from behind the closet door.

We both get up to investigate the noise. We proceed cautiously toward the closet door where we hear rustling and some strange noises. With Alice standing behind me, I grasp the doorknob with my right hand, slowly turn it, and open the closet door to see…

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…two small boys, about thirteen years old—Owen’s age. They lie awkwardly on the floor, suggesting they had just fallen over. Alice swings the door wide open; I have my hand on my Magnum—I hadn’t yet undressed.
When I see who it is, I put my gun away. Alice and I sigh impatiently. I send a telepathic message to Fred: Come up to Bedroom No. 35—and bring a maid.

“What are you boys doing here?” asks Alice.
The boys, who I figure attend school with Owen, don’t say anything intelligible.

“Both of you—get out of the closet and sit in that chair!” I say. They obey.
They both carry backpacks, which appear to be full of books or thick notepads; Alice and I don’t try ESP right now—we want to know what is going on.

Fred now appears at the door to the bedroom, with Mrs. Fletcher, a pudgy black woman who is the Sharps’ upstairs maid.
“Have they explained themselves?” Fred asks.

“They haven’t said anything intelligible since we opened the closet door,” Alice tells Fred.
Mrs. Fletcher approaches the boys and starts to reach for the backpacks. The boys pull the packs away and whine, “Don’t touch our packs!”

“You’re going to be in trouble if you don’t explain yourselves,” says Mrs. Fletcher. The boys look down glumly and hand the packs to Fred and the maid, who just hold onto them.
Now Eloise and Owen appear at the door. Eloise says, “We heard a commotion in here and… what are you two boys doing here?”

“I want your names, boys,” says Fred.
One says, “Jason Pitt.”

The other says, “Adam Litton.”
Alice and I react stiffly to these names—and Fred and Eloise apparently know why.

Eloise turns to her youngest son. “Owen, did you bring these boys into the house? You know better to let people spy on our guests!”
“No, Mom,” says Owen. “They wanted to visit—I didn’t know they were going to come in here.”

“You can do better than that,” says his mother. Mrs. Sharp orders the boys out of the room; she and Mrs. Fletcher leave too, and take the backpacks, which Eloise and Jack (and Fred) will want to examine.
On a hunch I send Red Nicholas a telepathic message: *Red, did you know about Jason and Adam hiding in a bedroom closet at the Sharps’ place?

I don’t even know who Jason and Adam are, let alone about them being at the Sharps’ home,* answers Red. I sigh. :rolleyes:
Fred is still present. “Those boys could be sons or grandsons or nephews of the two men you met outside,” he says.

“We thought they might be,” I answer. Alice and I now sit in the big chair. Anyway, we’ve lost the randy mood.

Fred also says, “We’d like to arrange for you to sell that platinum ingot to Phil Thompson’s company—even though, as you know, DeMoss and Chester own almost half the company. And you can’t tote it over there as you did the silver ingot to Loora’s business—too much risk. So Mister Sharp will have an armored car pick the ingot up and take it over. Phil’s cashier will come here for that, and will record the sale—you just send Phil a fax. And your bank accounts will be electronically credited on the spot—the ingot is worth about $220,000 and you’ll split it fifty-fifty.”

That’s our plan,” Alice says. She subtly slips my near arm under her tank top to feel her bosom.
“Well, says Fred, sensing what is on our minds, :wink: “I’m going to check up on Jason and Adam—and find out from Missus Sharp if Owen has admitted anything else. I believe you contacted Red Nicholas and he denied knowing about those boys?”

“He did,” I say. Fred leaves. Well, I for one hope this was just a schoolboys’ prank…

Alice and I, alone again, make up for lost time. We undress each other and return to the bed, and hump the stuffing out of each other. After the sexual session and the usual mutual expressions of gratitude, we put our clothes back on and go downstairs to make arrangements with Jane Bradley to sell the platinum ingot to her brother’s company. She’s in the kitchen with Lupe—and George and Frannie Sharp. George sees our disheveled appearance and says:

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“You two look like you just spent 20 minutes in a wind tunnel.”

I grin and look at Alice who has a mischievous look on her face. Her left bra strap is also visible. I give her a signal indicating this faux pas and she quickly tucks the strap underneath her tank top’s shoulder sleave.

“Didn’t you have time to brush your hair Alice?” a smirking George asks referring to her tousled unkept mane.

“Oh God, you’re right!” she exclaims after seeing her reflection on the glass door of the top oven.

“Don’t worry about it,” George reassures, “you can get away with that look.”

“That’s true,” Jane Bradley agrees. “You’ve got the right type of hair for it. Anyway, what about that ingot you wanted to sell?”

“Fred said that your brother could arrange to have an armored car pick it up,” I say.

“Yes, in fact, I just have to call and the car will be over in 20 minutes,” Jane informs us. “But there’s one big problem that’s just cropped up.”

“What is it?” Alice asks.

Jane sighs as says…

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Oops, that should read:

“Jane sights and says…”

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:smack: Again! The last line should read:

“Jane sighs and says…”
[I’m now going to write “Preview is my friend” 100 times on the blackboard.]

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“The cashier who would come over to record the sale, is out with the flu. Nobody else in the company is authorized to sign for the ingot except the partners—my brother Phil Thompson, and Alfred DeMoss and Yancy Chester.”
Alice and I, sitting together at the table, don’t answer aloud, since Lupe, George, and Frannie are not privy to the knowledge we have about DeMoss and Chester. So we communicate telepathically with Jane.

You may know about the suspicions we have concerning your brother’s partners, I think to Jane.
Well, you can contact Phil—but he may have a dental appointment this morning. I’ll go call him.

Jane, who has a swivel almost as maddening as that of Jeanette, even under her old bathrobe, leaves the kitchen. Lupe serves us breakfast. Alice has one waffle, an apple, and a cup of Earl Grey tea. I have ham and eggs, and coffee.
George and Frannie have finished bowls of cereal. I’m fascinated by the similar tastes all the members of the Sharp family have—in food, clothes, music, and recreation.

Frannie shows us the plans she has for Lorna’s wedding: there are two other photographers she works with.
“One is an apprentice named Valerie Most, from Redondo Beach,” Frannie says. “The other is Zack Abromowitz, the priest’s son.”

Alice is puzzled. “Since when does a Catholic priest have children?”
George answers this. “Isaac Abromowitz was married long before he was ordained.”

“I never thought of that,” Alice says.
Jane returns. Jeanette is with her. Both are wearing jogging outfits again and both walk with that maddening swivel.

Jeanette says, “George, Frannie, your Mom wants you in the Purple Room.” They leave, with Jeanette.
And Lupe hears something we don’t or maybe she is receiving a telepathic message herself. Anyway, she says “Tengo que salir,” and leaves the kitchen.

Jane pours coffee for herself and sits down with us.
“Fred Moreland has really worked out an elaborate system of signals. He wanted George, Frannie, and Lupe to leave the room.

“Anyway,” Jane continues, “Fred filled me in on DeMoss and Chester. It’s all right for you to sell the platinum ingot—it has neither an inscription nor supernatural inhabitants—but you’re better off dealing with Phil, who has a majority interest in the company.
“Considering what Loora and Merriwether told us about those two men, it’s just as well that you talk to Phil. He was at the dentist’s office this morning and he’ll be off the anesthesia, and back in the office, in a little while. I’ll call him then—and you both can listen on the speakerphone.”

Alice takes a pad and pencil and writes out some text to use in a fax we’ll send to Phil Thompson. We’ll send it as soon as Jane has spoken to her brother on the phone, when Alice and I will listen in.

Now the private conversation is over. Fred comes into the kitchen to say that the boys who hid in the bedroom closet were most likely just playing a prank—there was nothing suspicious in the backpacks, just books the boys were returning to the public library. Still, Jack and Eloise will want to talk to the boys’ parents. We still don’t know the parents’ relationship to the two men whom I saw out front of the mansion. As for them, Bob Long and Winifred will be at the Sharps’ late in the afternoon to tell us what they found out after Pitt and Litton were taken into custody.

Now three of the married women come into the kitchen along with their eldest daughters. Lupe also returns. Eloise is with Brenda; Loora with Katrina (age 12!); and Mary with April. Jane’s own older daughter Susan also comes in, and sits next to her mother. The resemblance, in each case, between mother and daughter is unquestionable, even concerning Katrina Oranjeboom, who has already blossomed out impressively at the age of twelve.

We all are about to discuss plans for Lorna’s wedding, when Louise Brown comes in. She has no daughters, and her three teenage boys, Artie, Brian, and Chuck, follow her. They have their father’s muscular physique and their mother’s coloring (dark brown eyes and hair; fair complexion). And they behave as though they would not dare to cross their mother.

Louise looks at the seated mothers and daughters and says to Alice:

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“I suppose if I sit down next to you Alice, people would think this some sort of mother-daughter gathering.”

“Oh no,” she answers with a deadpan expression, “I believe people would think you’re my older sister than my mother.”

“With a flattering comment like that, I almost think you’re going to ask a favor of me,” Louise replies with a grin.

“Well, she is right,” I say. “You do look more like Alice’s sister.” (A point with which the other women–both mothers and daughters–express their agreement.)

“Actually Louise, you are also right,” Alice states. “I am going to ask a favor of you.”

“What is it?” Jane asks.

"I was wondering if…

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“You could assist us in two matters. One, we want to set up special accounts at the bank, when the sale of the platinum ingot is completed, and we know you know your way around finances.”
“I certainly do,” Louise says. “And while we’re on the subject, one of those platinum ingots belongs to Stan and me, and I want to do the same thing.”

“I’m way ahead of you,” says Jane. “I talked to Phil already about that, and he’ll arrange a separate sale—we can do that at the Terwilligers’ place, if that’s all right with you, Alice.”
Alice smiles. “It’s fine with me, if it’s fine with my parents and brothers. I’m sure they’ll consent. Just tell me when you plan to do it.”

I remember, of course, Louise’s ability—same as that of Clicker O’Dell of the Archie comics—to guess how much money someone has, or what a gem or ingot might be worth…
Before Alice can tell Louise what the other matter is, Jack Sharp comes into the kitchen with a woman we don’t recognize.

He goes over to Eloise; she stands up and they embrace briefly; and then he introduces the visitor, a slight, young woman with red sausage curls and wearing a dark green skirt and white blouse. She holds a portfolio.
“This is Lorraine Adler from the Courier-Times,” Jack says. “She’s here to do a feature article on the opening of the Morpheus and the upcoming benefit.” Jack also communicates with all of us telepathically: She doesn’t know anything about Red Nicholas or the DXM League, and we won’t need to tell her.

We all tacitly assent to Jack’s unspoken aside.
We all introduce ourselves.

Ms. Adler herself is impressed with the five married women and their kids. “I think I could also write a feature article on your families,” she says. “But for now, I’d like to have you all give me information on your benefit. Mr. Sharp, here, has already given me an interview about his efforts to restore the Morpheus. And I’ve also spoken to George and Betty Galloway, and their daughter and granddaughter.”

So now we finish up breakfast and Fred and the maids round all the performers up; we all go into the big rec room. Mary Blonda, as the program director, gives Ms. Adler a sketch of the benefit program and a list of the performers.
“You are right to title this ‘Evening Becomes Eclectic,’ she says. “This is quite a varied list. First, I’d like to speak to Prester John’s Aunt.”

Alice, Gwen, Lena, and Amy step forward to give Lorraine their interview.
“Oh—Alice Terwilliger? … I thought you were the mother of those three hulking boys in the kitchen!”

Louise steps forward. “That’s me,” she says, Stan wrapping his brawny arms around her. “I’m the mother of those hulking boys.”
Ms. Adler looks at Alice, then she looks at Louise. “Good Heavens, I have a topic for yet another article! Are you two related?”

“Not to our knowledge,” answer Alice and Louise—in unison.
“This gets better by the minute,” Lorraine says.

She now begins the interview of Alice and the others, about their musical background and the origins of Prester John’s Aunt. Meanwhile, the reporter’s question to Alice and Louise has prodded me to find an answer.
So I excuse myself and go to send Janet an e-mail:

Janet—can you find out if Alice Penelope Terwilliger and Louise Brown are related? Ms. Brown’s parents are Patrick and Colleen Mooney O’Hara, from Springfield, Ohio; she has two older brothers and three older sisters. You remember the Browns—they delivered the artist’s supplies to you in his big rig.
I sign and send the e-mail to Janet.

I also make a mental note to ask the Hellmouth critters to “shadow” each of us, in order to identify anyone who might stalk us.
Now Jane approaches me and says that, once Alice’s interview is over, she, Alice, and I can contact her brother Phil at his office to effect the sale of our platinum ingot (and the one belonging to Louise and Stan).

Now Alice’s interview is over. She calls Louise and me out into the hallway.
Louise asks, “What’s the other thing you want me to do?”
Alice smiles, and says, “Well…”

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since ____ and I are going to be busy with the ingot, I was wondering if you could pick up something at my parent’s house."

“Sure,” Louise replies. “What is it?”

“Just some clothes,” she answers. “They’ll be in a box with my name on it. I already called my mum and said either I or somebody else would be by to pick them up.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard,” Louise states. “I’ll pick them up in the next hour or so.”

“Oh good,” Alice exclaims. “I’ll call my mum right now and tell her you’ll be coming over in an hour.”

Louise departs and I’m alone with Alice.

“What kind of clothes are they and why do you need them today?” I ask.

“You’ll find out the answer to both those questions later,” she answers with a sly grin.

We return to the rec room where Lorraine Adler is still conducting her interview. Now, she’s talking to Gwen alone.

“Oh … hello,” a startled Gwen says. “I thought you’d left to take care of that ingot.”

“No, we had to talk to Louise first,” I answer. “Look, if you’re still being interviewed, we’ll just leave now.”

“Don’t,” Lorraine says. “I’m still talking to Gwen but I was wondering if I could also ask Alice a few more things while she’s here.”

“That’s fine,” Alice consents.

“Great,” she enthusiastically says. Lorraine then puts her tape recorder in front of Alice’s face and asks her a question that just floors me.

“Ms. Terwilliger,” she begins, "is it true…

735

“…that you and ______ here have been involved with flight?”
Lorraine gives us a you-know-damn-well-what-I’m-talking-about look. :eek:

Alice bluffs. “I’m not sure I understand,” she says.
“My Uncle Josiah and Aunt Phyllis,” Lorraine says, “used to live next door to a blond woman with a husband and three kids—the woman looked a lot like Dolly Parton but seemed to be something of a scientist, Uncle Josiah said.”

Mary Blonda, Alice, Gwen, and I think to each other.
Ms. Adler continues: “Several months ago Josiah and Phyllis moved away. They told me that a month before they moved, they saw the two of you with the blond woman and an old man who looked like Robert Morley—and you picked these people up and flew away with them!”

An instant later, Fred approaches us.
“Ms. Adler, you have an urgent call from your office,” he says. “Mr. Myron Skagg.”

“Oh, dear—that’s my editor!” Lorraine says. She shuts off the recorder and excuses herself, talking her stuff with her. She doesn’t have a cell phone, and follows Fred into the foyer. Just before he leaves the room with her, Fred turns to wink at us.
“That was close,” comments Gwen.

“Too close for comfort!” I say. Alice and I stay close. Gwen seems to sense our mutual concern—which is hers too, since when Alice and I, carrying Ms. Blonda and Dr. Terwilliger, flew back to the Terwilligers’ place, because of the danger posed by the colorful moths, Alice also summoned Gwen.
Suddenly I get a telepathic message—and I sense Alice and Gwen are getting it too.

You need not worry, Lissie, Gwendolyn, _______; the reporter will not expose you.
“That must be Uncle Matthew calling—I know he’ll be out here for Lorna’s wedding,” Alice whispers to me.

“I guess he knows something we don’t,” I say. Alice and I kiss.
Fred returns, obviously flustered about Ms. Adler’s interview topics.

Alice tells him, “I think my great-uncle knows something about this.”
Fred reacts positively. Alice takes a post-it note pad. “Here’s my great-uncle’s e-mail address,” she says.

Fred takes it and goes into the lobby, to use the computer.
“I think I know what’s going on,” says Gwen. “After all, I saw you bring Ms. Blonda and your uncle out to your place.”

“He said he has a pleasant surprise for us,” Alice replies. She and I stand really close, which I like to do. :slight_smile:
Now Jane Bradley and Loora Oranjeboom meet us for a moment. I figure that between Jane’s radar perception and Loora’s sorcery, Alice and I—and Gwen—won’t suffer exposure in print, whatever Ms. Adler’s relatives may be, even ulterior motives.

Now Fred returns, in a happier frame of mind. He hands Alice a page he printed out; I figure it’s the e-mail from Uncle Matthew.
“Very good—thanks, Fred,” she says.

“Oh—and, _______, this e-mail came for you from Janet.” He hands me a page too.
I sense that Alice has her ESP focused on Janet’s letter, and me, more out of curiosity than anything else.

I take the page and start to read it, but Fred speaks up.
“Ms. Oranjeboom will see to it that nothing incriminating or embarrassing gets into print as a result of Lorraine’s interview,” he says. “And your Uncle Matthew found out some interesting things about Josiah and Phyllis Adler that affect their credibility.”

“Where do they live now?” I ask.
“Las Vegas,” says Fred.

So we have three matters to discuss: what will happen to Ms. Adler’s attempt to tell people about our wings; the sale of two platinum ingots; and my e-mail from Janet about the supposed blood relationship between Alice and Louise O’Hara Brown.

“First, let’s hear what Janet found out for you,” Alice and Gwen say, almost in unison. Jane and Loora, along with Fred, are still present. (I use ESP and find out that Ms. Adler has decided to start interviewing The Cigar Band now, and resume the interview with Gwen later on.)
I oblige and read Janet’s e-mail aloud:

736

*passage with wrong word:

It should read, “whatever Ms. Adler’s motives may be.” :o

737

passage with wrong word:

It should read, “whatever Ms. Adler’s motives may be.” :o

738

*Hi _____,

Just got done researching your question about Alice Terwilliger’s and Louise Brown’s family trees and, to make a looonnnng story short, they are distantly related.

I’ll be as concise about this as I can. Louise’s mother’s parents were Hugh and Brigid Mooney, from Altoona, Pennsylvania. Hugh Mooney worked for the railroad and was the son of a Pottsville, Pennsylvania coalminer named Michael and his wife Mary. Mary had the maiden name of Owan and was born in New York as the first American-born child of Welsh immigrants named Evan and Rhonda. Evan married Rhonda shortly after arriving in the U.S. and her marriage certificate says her maiden name was … Terwilliger.

As for Alice’s family history, I believe you did tell me that part of her father’s side came from Wales where they were low-level nobles and landholders. Well, I dug a little deeper and it turns out that Rhonda Terwilliger was born in the town of Caernarfon in County Gwynedd around 1885. Her parents were named Albert and Gail Powys Terwilliger. Ask Alice if these names are familiar to either her or anyone else in her family.

That’s all I have for now. If I find out anything else, I’ll e-mail you.

Yours,
Janet*

“I think she’s right on the mark,” says Alice. “The Terwilligers did come from County Gwynedd in Wales. In fact, there are still quite a few there today.”

“Have you heard of Albert and Gail Terwilliger before?” I ask.

“Only vaguely at best,” Alice answers. “They were part of a branch of the Terwilliger tree that stayed in Wales after the branch that led to me left. I’ll have to ask my father and my uncle about this later. They’ll probably be able to fill in the blanks better.”

“Well, I guess that explains why you and Louise look so much like sisters,” Gwen comments. “You share some of the same genes.”

We’re about to discuss Janet’s research a bit more, when Ms. Adler joins our group. There are some questions she wants to ask and she’s not going to give up until they’re answered.

“Ah, good!” she exclaims to Alice. “You and Gwen are still here.”

“Uh … yes we are,” an uncomfortable Alice replies.

“Well, I can now get back to the questions I wanted to ask both of you,” she says with a slight smirk.

“Go ahead,” Gwen says without emotion. “Inquire away.”

Ms. Adler takes out her recorder, holds it in front of Alice and Gwen, and says, "What I want to know (and I’m addressing this to both of you) is…

739

“What happened on the day you were at the Blondas’? Who was that older man?”
“He is my great-uncle Matthew Terwilliger,” says Alice. “He was visiting from London.”

“Now I would like to know about how you transported Mary Blonda and this Matthew Terwilliger several miles back to your own home!”
Suddenly, as I perceived by dint of the ESP, Ms. Adler feels an uncomfortable cool sensation. She looks down and sees nothing unusual. Then the tape recorder suddenly shuts off, with a loud click.

She crouches to inspect it. Then she realizes that her panties are down around her ankles! :eek:
So far as she can tell no one else has seen this. She quickly slips the panties back up out of sight.

In the distance I see Loora Oranjeboom, winking.
And a small slip of paper suddenly sails across the room ands lands on the floor in front of Lorraine. She crouches lower—she hasn’t quite put the panties where they belong—and looks at the slip of paper. It reads, “Stick to your subject!”

By now Ms. Adler, though she is sure that nobody saw her panties fall, is flustered and embarrassed. Alice exploits this. “Let Ms. Berry and me answer your question about the flight—”
“I don’t care about your goddam flight!” Ms. Adler snaps loudly. Then, realizing what she has just said, she apologizes profusely, knowing such an outburst of temper is unbecoming a visitor and a journalism professional.

“Ms. Terwilliger, Ms. Berry, I’m sorry I lost my temper…” She’s still crouched. She excuses herself with the recorder, to check it out, and goes into a nearby room.
I turn to Loora. “Good shot!” I say.

“I aim to please,” she says with a smile.
With the recorder running properly now, I knew why it stalled, of course—and her panties back in place, along with all the hairs on her head, Lorraine returns.

She resumes the interview, minus the embarrassing questions about Alice’s secrets. I sense that the call from Mr. Skagg had something to do with that, and I’ll ask Fred later what he did to bring it about.
Lorraine continues the interview, questioning Alice and Gwen about their studies at college, their various jobs, their musical background and—edging dangerously close—our contact with Mary Blonda.

But Lorraine says, “Since Ms. Blonda is the director of the benefit, I’ll have a separate interview with her; I want to emphasize how difficult it is for a woman—certainly an attractive woman like Mary—to advance in a male-dominated field such as directing.”

As Alice, Gwen, and I, observe, Ms. Adler is not pursuing a line of questioning that could be embarrassing to Alice and the others. I can ascribe this to Loora’s little prank, and whatever Mr. Skagg said to her on the phone.
The interview concludes without further incident. Ms. Adler says she’ll interview Jane Bradley and me, later on today.

With that, Alice, Gwen, and I go into the kitchen to join The Cigar Band for a respite and tea and crackers. Armand, who speaks with a slight, lilting French-Canadian accent, is there instead of Lupe this time. Jeanette is wearing another gray flannel dress and gray pumps, and nothing else. Jerry, Phil, and Johnny wear sport shirts and jeans.

“That Lorraine is something else,” Jeanette says.
“Whom is she interviewing now?” I ask.

“Lorna,” Jeanette says.
Alice and I exchange concerned looks.

“Oh, don’t worry, “says Jeanette. “Loora told me about Lorraine’s questions to Alice. So Loora and Dr. Clouse are hiding nearby. If Ms. Adler poses embarrassing questions to Lorna, Loora will stall the recorder again—but that’s all she’ll do!”
Now Jane and Louise join us. Alice gives Janet’s e-mail to Louise, who raises an eyebrow. “See, I told you we’re related!” she tells Alice with a smile.

Jane says, “I spoke to Phil [her brother] a little while ago. He can buy your [Alice’s and my] ingot here, and Stan’s and Louise’s at your parents’ place. Phil will go to both sites to record the sale and effect the deposits into your bank. And the armored car will pick up the ingots, with Fred and Joe’s help.”

Jeanette is about to tell us about Lorraine’s interview; I’m sure Ms. Adler asked about Jeanette’s relationship with her partners, as well as her obviously immodest dress.
But first, Fred joins us. All of us present are DXM people—including Armand, apparently—and I ask Fred about the call from Lorraine’s editor, Myron Skagg.

Fred smirks and says:

740

“Skagg is a poker friend who occasionally does some free-lance work for the League. In return, we sometimes ‘leak’ some story leads to him.”

“With the blessing of DXM top brass of course,” adds Armand.

"Anyway, I ‘signalled’ Skagg that Ms. Adler’s questioning was getting a little too probing so he called up and told her…