Storiesonline.net
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                             Song of Thanks
                                by Grampy

Copyright© 2006 by Grampy


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Description: Courtney kissed Darryl in the sunrise by the lake, and announced that she would marry him someday. They were both eight and love seemed very simple. Their lives and love proved to be anything but simple. But always there was the lake, and her sweet song.

Codes: MF mf tears rom teen cons het oral mastrb pett
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Contributing Editor Kevin

When you rise in the morning, give thanks for the light, for your life, for 
your strength. Give thanks for your food and for the joy of living. If you see 
no reason to give thanks, the fault lies in yourself.

Tecumseh





"The Promise" by Grampy

Complete 
Library of All Chapter Illustrations and Wallpaper
http://home.comcast.net/~grampy-writer/illustrations.html

The Song of  Thanks



You've given me wings
And special things,
That's what your love brings,
Thanks to you.
I've stretched and grown,
Spread my wings and flown,
I can stand on my own,
Thanks to you.
The love we share
Is beyond compare,
And there's more to spare,
Thanks to you.


There've been pain and tears
Over many years
Now I've conquered fears
Thanks to you.

There is much I've earned,
Even more I've learned,
But my heart has yearned
Just for you.

I've been up and down,
I've been lost and found,
But I've come around
Thanks to you.
 

There's a new little bird
Who has spread the word
And her voice will be heard
Thanks to you.

This little dove
With a voice from above
Has saved my true love,
Nura, thanks to you, too.

I will sing you this song
To let you know you belong
Precious lives have been saved
Thanks to you
Though my voice may ring,
Millions hear me sing,
Still my heart can sing
Just for you.

(Refrain)
Though my voice may ring,
I have learned one thing:
That my heart will sing
Just to you.

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Chapter 1: The End & The Beginning May, 2006 & May,1975

May 2006, Sunrise at the Lake

Darryl awoke to the almost inaudible buzz and vibration of his wristwatch alarm. As usual, his nude body was neatly spooned with the beautiful and equally nude body of his wife of nine years. His morning semi-erection was cradled as neatly between the cheeks of her shapely bottom as a silver punch ladle in a velvet presentation case. His left hand cupped her left breast, held there by both of her hands, where she had draped him across herself like a human coverlet.

He looked lovingly at her, and although her 40th birthday loomed just ahead, her body didn't betray her age. She was as shapely and firm as when he had first made love to her a decade before, and she had seemed young even then. In part, this was a result of the healthy diet and regular gym and yoga program she had adopted to survive the rigors of her full touring schedule as a musical superstar. Even now that she toured only one month a year, she kept a home gym and a personal trainer. It was too structured a program for him, but God, he loved the results on her.

He leaned over and inhaled her scent and the fragrance of her hair. He never got tired of it. He gently started nuzzling her neck and nibbling her ear. One eye opened; she rolled her head back to catch him in a kiss. "Hadn't you better leave before my husband gets home?''

"Too late, he's already here."

"Is he mad?"

"Nah, horny old bastard just wants a little, too."

"What the hell, the more stiff cock to start a girl's morning, the better I say. Speaking of, want me to take care of your best friend there?" She reached and put an affectionate hand on his now full morning erection.

"Later, you randy old hussy, didn't I already take care of you once this week?"

"I love you, you old fart, but the day you only fuck me once a week, then it's God help the paper boy."

It was pretty much their standard morning fare. Hardly likely to get them a spot on the Comedy Network, it was their continuing joy at being together, bubbling over into a happy celebration. It was a happiness that seemed their destiny from childhood, and yet had been lost and found and threatened yet again. Both of them knew by what tiny margins their happiness had been secured, so each new day was cause for new joy.

But this was not just any morning. This was their morning. That particular May morning that was now their anniversary but had held a special significance long before their marriage. "Happy 'Us Day, '" he whispered as he nibbled her ear lobe, "Shall I open the curtains?"

"Yes, my love."

Ironically they slept most nights with the curtains open, but on this night, they liked the added drama of opening them. Darryl reached over, hit a switch, and the floor to ceiling draperies, covering the entire wall, gradually opened. It was almost totally black outside, with only the first hint of dawn in the sky.

She turned to him with a little smile. "Do you think they will be there, on the dock, like us? I think I'll cry if they are."

"And I will be just a little disappointed if they aren't. But they will form their own friendship with the lake and the dawn as we did. Now, my love, how will you greet the dawn?"

"The same way I choose every year; I wish to greet the dawn on our special day with the love of my life inside me. Make love to me, Darryl, beautiful love."

And the two, man and woman, friends, lovers, husband and wife, began a familiar dance. Each other's body was comfortably familiar and yet still fascinating and exciting. What experience brought was timing and balance. She would need more time to reach her peak; therefore, she received more time. His time came later and in measured amounts.

Courtney, like most women, wanted to kiss a lot. Their love making always started with a generous round of kissing, deep, passionate, lip-chewing, tongue-tangling, breath-sharing kissing. And it lasted until she indicated she was ready to move on. Moving on in Darryl's case meant moving on to kissing the rest of her, which was fine with him, because there wasn't a single square inch of Courtney he didn't like to kiss.

Sunrise is short, so their pace was more rapid than it might have been otherwise. Darryl had to forgo his favorite leisurely tour of her neck and shoulder in favor of a more direct route to her breasts. He loved her breasts, their roundness and firmness belied her years, their softness and the large firm nipples called to him. He could lose himself in their warmth and womanly scent. She held his head to her with both hands, as she looked down at him tenderly. He teased her nipples by alternately using his tongue, his lips and his teeth. Courtney liked all of these; in fact, she liked having her nipples played with a lot. They were hotwired directly to her hidden female treasures; as a result, she was already quite wet. A mutual favorite was for him to simply suckle like an infant, which never failed to get her eyes closed, her head thrown back and her breath reduced to a series of little gasps.

"Oh Darryl," she gasped, "I'm already so wet, I could take you now; I want you now."

"Right on time, as always, my darling, the sun is rising."

She reached and took his organ in her hand. "I see the sun is not the only thing rising."

He turned toward the window and sat with his legs out straight and together. She turned the same way and straddled his legs, sitting in his lap and impaling herself on his erection. Thus joined in sexual union and held in loving embrace, they watched another May sunrise over "their" lake. They watched silently as the light shifted through the delicate palette of sunrise colors that reflected off the lake's still waters and flooded their bedroom. The richness, yet subtlety of the range of colors mirrored so perfectly the love of these two whose relationship began with a kiss on this very lake, on a morning just like this, when they were eight years old.

The light was now just bright enough to see the end of the dock. The figures of a little boy and a little girl holding hands could just be made out. Darryl blinked once to be sure. "They're there, all right. I suppose it really had to be." He only heard a swallow in reply. He looked, and her eyes were misting.

Suddenly she gasped, and he turned back in time to see the little girl kiss the little boy on the cheek. She wept openly now. "Hold me, Darryl, I suddenly feel old."

"You're not old, my love. I have the body of a beautiful young woman in my arms."

"Make me feel it; make me feel young again, Darryl, make love with all the raw passion you ever felt for me."

He realized that what she was looking for was the awe, the obsessive, sometimes clumsy worship of her body that a woman gets from a young man overwhelmed by her beauty. Not difficult, really, in his case; worship of her body had never lain far below the surface. Now he just released his feelings. He lost himself in her body through every sense; he felt her smoothness; he smelled her scents; he tasted her essence; he listened to her breathing; he looked at her beauty as though for the first time. Losing himself in her beauty, he found himself greatly aroused by the object of his worship.

Courtney in turn was the beneficiary of all this tactile homage in the form of kisses and licks and fondles and caresses, and she appreciated every one of them. But to be the object of such adoration is the greatest aphrodisiac of them all, and soon she found herself on fire, absolutely on fire with everything female in her crying out for fulfillment. "Darryl, damn you, FUCK ME NOW, oh now."

He felt much the same urgency, so he immediately got between her legs and without the least pretense at ceremony or embellishment; he lined his cock up and thrust forward. She thrust towards him, and her relief upon him filling her was audible. Now they fucked, pure and simple; style and technique were ignored in favor of physical release. It was like temporarily throwing off the burden of civilization, society, Cosmopolitan, and returning to the jungle. And it felt very, very good.

It was unlikely from the beginning that this intensity could be sustained, and it wasn't long before both were making tell-tale signs of rapidly approaching climax. Courtney had already had a small pre-tremor, but her closed eyes and the spreading red flush across her breast were sure signs of a huge orgasm coming. For him, it was eyes tight shut and grunts. Unusually, there was no verbal communication or warning. But it proved unnecessary; the first contractions of her orgasm massaged his sensitive organ where it lay, cradled inside her softness. This caused his climax. In turn, the warm flood of his seed deep inside her triggered her final release.

The two collapsed together, totally sated and exhausted. Darryl propped up on one elbow and gazed lovingly at her. "Feeling more loved now?"

"You always know how to keep me from feeling sorry for myself. Seeing them on the dock made me feel almost obsolete, like a dinosaur."

"It's just the cycle of life; we're all part of it. It's their time now to hold hands for the first time; we've moved on to a different time in our lives... And I have to point out that the unseemly little display on the dock merely means you have managed to raise a daughter who's just as brazen a hussy as her mother was... And the world's a better place because you did, there's never an adequate supply of brazen hussies to go around."

"It does seem like just yesterday. Do you remember that morning? And by the way, brazen hussy indeed, I was scared to death. Sneaking out with a boy; I'd never done anything like that in my life."

"I remember it perfectly. And you may have been scared, as you say, never having done anything like that in your life, but it didn't stop you from kissing me."

"OK, I have to give you that one."

"And proposing marriage to me."

"Well, technically, it was more like a prediction, I didn't actually ask you."

"More like a threat."

"But I was right; you did marry me, so now I want to be treated like your wife, please, Darryl." So they set aside their memories temporarily to celebrate the May morning in other ways.

May 1975, Sunrise at the Lake

The two little girls huddled under the covers, giggling and whispering like little girls always have, since sleepovers were invented. Robyn Kedrick was entertaining her second grade classmate Courtney Archer at her grandparents' lake house. Their topic of conversation at the moment, as it had been most of the night, was the third guest in the house, Robyn's cousin Darryl. Her grandparents treated Darryl like one of their own and kept him when his parents' State Department careers took them overseas. Both girls thought that Darryl was very sweet and very cute and not "icky" like most of the boys in their class. He always treated girls nicely and didn't play mean tricks.

What was most exciting was that Darryl had promised to sneak out and take Courtney down to the dock to watch the sunrise. It sounded terribly exciting and romantic to Courtney. It did to Robyn, too, but she was just a little jealous. "Do you think he will really come?" whispered the excited Courtney, for the tenth time.

"He'd better," teased Robyn, indicating Courtney's attire, "Or you got dressed up for nothing. Besides I told you, my cousin always keeps his promises."

"No one always keeps every single promise, even Mommy and Daddy sometimes don't."

"Darryl does, my last birthday he promised to come to my party. He got the flu and had a temperature of 102, and his mom wouldn't let him, but she sent the present with Peter next door."

"That doesn't count as a broken promise if you're sick and can't help it."

"It does to Darryl; he snuck out of his house and rode his bike all the way over to my house. He didn't come in, because he would have made us all sick. I was cutting the cake when I saw his face at the window. He waved and stuck a note to the window and left. Nobody ever knew he was there except me."

"What did the note say?"

"Just 'Happy Birthday, I told you I would come.'"

"I don't understand, Robyn; he didn't come in, and you already had your present; why'd he do it?"

"Don't you get it, Courtney; he came just because he'd promised to."

"Oh I see, so that's why you're sure he'll come tonight."

Both girls started at the sound of footsteps outside their room. "Shhhh," whispered Robyn, "he's here."

"I'm a little bit scared," whispered Courtney, "I never snuck out with a boy before."

Robyn hugged her friend. "It's OK, it's not just a boy; it's Darryl. A lot of girls would trade places with you right now," she said. "And I'm one of them," she thought.

There was a tapping at their window. They opened the curtain, and there was Darryl's big open smile. He motioned towards the back door and disappeared. The two girls giggled their way to the door. Fortunately, the grandparents' bedroom was upstairs, and they were sound sleepers; assuming that they were unaware of the night's activities. Robyn held the door open, and Courtney snuck out into the darkness. She couldn't see a thing.

"Right here, I'm right here. Let your eyes get used to the dark." She felt a hand take hers and give it a reassuring squeeze.

Young eyes accommodate rapidly, so almost before she was used to the idea of holding a boy's hand, Courtney could see enough to walk without tripping over a root. Darryl didn't seem to have a great deal to say; he just seemed eager to get down to the dock, so they walked on in silence. When they got there, Darryl walked right out to the end and sat down. "If you take off your shoes, you can dangle your feet in the water. Don't be afraid; the water is only about two feet deep here."

"I'm not afraid, and I'm a very good swimmer, Darryl Sanders; what about you?" she asked with a little huff.

"I'm sorry, Courtney. I just guessed things about you without asking."

"It's OK, you get used to it, if you're a girl. Boys always act like you can't do anything. You don't do it much. That's why I like you." She moved over to sit closer to him.

"Darryl, why is it so important to you to always keep a promise?"

"If you don't keep all of your promises, how are any of them going to mean anything?"

"Then promise you'll never bring any other girl out here except me."

"I can't promise that, Courtney." He ignored her pout. "Part of keeping your promises is to only make promises you can keep. I'm only eight; how could I promise that. Your family could move away."

The sun rose high enough to reflect a gorgeous play of pastel colors, capped off with a fiery rim of reds and yellows from the surface of the lake. The all too brief show held the two children mesmerized. Little Courtney turned to Darryl. "Wow, that was great. Thanks for bringing me. Does this mean that I'm your girlfriend?"

"I like you. You're very pretty. But I think we're too young to be girlfriends and boyfriends."

"Well, I don't care what you say, Darryl Sanders; you're my new boyfriend, and there is nothing you can do about it." She grabbed him, and before he could react, she gave him a big juicy kiss on his cheek. Then she hopped up and got just out of his range. "And something else, Darryl Sanders, I'm going to marry you someday." With that unanswerable parting salvo, she ran off towards the house, leaving him clueless as to what had just transpired. As a member of the male gender, this particular state of confusion would, in time, be accepted as normal.



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Chapter 2:  Discoveries of Love May,1981

May 1981

Darryl's cousin Robyn and her grandparents picked him up at the airport. Even though they were her grandparents on "the other side" and not actually related to Darryl, they had always loved him as their own. And Darryl, having no living grandparents, returned their affection. He also loved their lake house, and it was a great place for him to stay when, like now, his parents were out of the country on State Department business.

"How long can you stay, Darryl?" asked an excited Robyn, "I've missed you; you haven't stayed with us since 6th grade, not counting summers."

"I've missed you, and Grandma and Grandpa Kedrick, and the lake. But I'm not sure how long I'll be staying."

"I'll bet you missed Courtney, too." Darryl blushed from Robyn's teasing. "I know she missed you." She made little kissing sounds to his utter mortification.

Grandma Kedrick turned around from the front seat. "Quit teasing him, Robyn. You're just as bad as Courtney... Darryl's folks aren't sure how long they'll be gone, but they told us to enroll him in school next year, so you may have a new classmate this fall."

"Oh wow, that's super!... Oh gosh, I'm sorry Darryl; I guess you'll miss your folks a lot."

"Yeah but I like it here a lot too." Darryl was quiet for a minute; then, in an almost overly casual voice, "Ah... I guess, Courtney didn't wanna come?"

"Nah, her Mom wouldn't let her," said Robyn.

Her grandmother turned around puzzled. "That's odd; when I saw Karen Archer at the grocery store, she thought it was terrific; she knew Courtney would flip. And Robyn, you told me it was Courtney that had changed her mind." Suddenly, she looked right at Robyn. "You wanta fess up, young lady?"

She knew that when Grandma called you "young lady," it was time to tell the truth. She looked down at her feet. "I guess maybe I forgot to tell Courtney what time we were leaving. I'm sorry; I just wanted Darryl to myself for a while. As soon as the two of them get together, they'll forget I'm even alive."

Darryl reached over and gave his cousin a hug. "Robyn, you're just as important to me too, even if we're cousins. If I ever forget that and ignore you, you just kick me, OK."

"OK, and don't think I won't, Darryl Sanders. Even if she is my best friend, she'll have to share you."

Grandma Kedrick looked at him knowingly. "Good luck, Darryl, I think you're going to need it." She looked ahead to the to the lake house driveway where a very unhappy Courtney was waiting for them. "In fact, I think you're going to need luck right away."

Grandpa Kedrick spoke for the first time, "If luck ain't enough, and where females are involved, it usually ain't, then you and I will just have to sneak off and do a little fishing."

"Paw, fishing's your solution to every problem."

"Yep, good 'un too."

As soon as the car stopped, Darryl tried to defuse the situation by hopping out and running over to Courtney and grabbing her in a big hug. "Don't be mad at Robyn; she's just afraid we'll leave her out; don't spoil this day," he whispered. Then he switched to a regular voice that everyone could hear. "Wow, Courtney, it's great to see you; I've missed you" He became aware that she was pressing into his chest. He let go and looked at her; she was obviously becoming a woman, developing a woman's body. "Courtney; you've grown up on me."

"So have you, Darryl Sanders; you're taller and you look leaner. I like the new you. You didn't say if you like the changes in me."

"Of course he likes them; you've got boobies," piped up Robyn. "All boys like boobies."

"I think I would prefer to refer to them as 'her figure, ' and to answer your question, Courtney, yes, I like your new figure very much. I think you are beautiful."

"Thank you, Darryl, still the flirt. I've got so much to tell you."

"Me too, I'm dying to tell you everything. When will I see you?"

"Soon; I'm staying here at the lake house."

"Robyn invited you to stay?"

"It's more like she invited herself," said Robyn. "But then," she shrugged, "who am I to stand in the way of love?"

"This last week of school, and two more weeks after that, my parents are going to go help my grandma fix up her farm."

The Kedrick household settled down, if three teenagers can ever be called "settled," into a pleasant pattern of swimming, fishing and mysterious games that involved lots of teenage girl giggling. After the grandparents retired upstairs for the night, the three teenagers had free run of the house. The first night was a weekend so they could stay up, as though sleep were an option after so long apart. Everybody went and got their pajamas and robes and came back to watch creepy scary films.

It started out with Courtney and Darryl on the sofa, and Robyn in Grandpa's big chair, but she looked so forlorn that Courtney glanced at Darryl, and when he nodded, said, "Come on over here, Robyn, and join us, I think Darryl can handle two women if we go easy on him."

Robyn brightened immediately. "Really? Are you sure? Is it OK with you, Darryl?"

"OK? Are you kidding? It's every guy's dream. Two gorgeous babes."

So he ended up as the happy filling in a wiggling pubescent girl sandwich. If he expected Robyn to hold back because of their kinship, he was surely disappointed, for she was at least as flirtatious with word and body as her best friend. Neither girl showed any real sign of timidity or shyness, so hardly a quarter hour had passed before they claimed the room was too warm — it wasn't — and removed their robes.

Darryl was startled though certainly delighted by their choice of sleepwear, even though unaware of the hours of discussion and planning that had gone into their choices. Robyn was wearing a cute little baby-doll set that would probably have fit her when he was here two years ago. So tightly did it fit her precious little posterior and so tight was it between her legs that the only thing preventing a shocking display of pubic hair was that she had yet to grow any. Courtney, on the other hand, was covered in generous yards of extremely sheer material. The dark shadows of her areolas and the lighter shadow of her fine pubic growth were easily seen through the almost transparent gown.

Darryl quickly discovered that the fact that he did not find the room warm did not allow him to retain his robe. He was left in only a pair of pajama bottoms. Both girls had seen him many times in a bathing suit, but not since hormones had removed the baby fat and broadened his shoulders and an active interest in sport had added muscle. Men are often unaware, and women often hide the fact, so Darryl was totally unaware that his bare chest affected Courtney as much as her visible breasts affected him.

Back on the couch, each girl picked a side to snuggle up to and an arm to make her own. Robyn pulled her arm down to her tummy where she held it with both her hands. Courtney placed her captive hand right between her breasts where she likewise held it with both of her hands. This unfortunately did not leave Darryl a free hand to make a better arrangement for his erection, which he was terrified that the girls might see. He would have found that utterly mortifying. They would have found it utterly fascinating.

He was very surprised, but a bit relieved, when Courtney called for an early night. Robyn seemed like she would have preferred to stay right where she was, cuddled up with Darryl, but she reluctantly went to bed. Courtney turned to him, "Are you going to take me to the lake to see the sun rise tomorrow?"

"I'd like that; shall I come get you?"

"No, this time I'll come get you; it'll be more fun that way." And giving him a passionate but brief goodnight kiss, she followed Robyn to bed.

That night Darryl was just starting to drift off to sleep when he sensed a motion and turned his head in time to see a figure climb in bed with him. His nose told him it was Courtney, and his lips confirmed it when she gave him a warm kiss.

"Courtney, what are you doing?"

"Getting in bed with you."

"No, I mean, why?"

Courtney giggled. "Hasn't your Dad had that talk with you yet?

Darryl finally took her and held her where he could look her in the eye. "Courtney, please, what's going on? I mean, I'm glad to have you here, but..."

"I'm sorry, Darryl, I am teasing you a little, and I'm a bit scared. I don't even know if you still like me. Darryl, please, would you just hold me?"

He immediately took her in his arms and started kissing her on the neck and shoulder, "Of course I do, Courtney; you're still the girl I dream about."

She rolled her head around and pulled him in for a lover's kiss. Her tongue demanded entrance and soon was dueling his until they finally broke the kiss breathlessly. "I came tonight because I just want to cuddle with you. I want to wake up with you in the morning. I want to sleep in your arms. I've never been in bed with a boy I mean even though we're not going to do it or anything"

"Didn't your mother warn you about what animals we are? How we can't control ourselves? Do you really want to trust me?"

"Yes, Darryl, Is there any reason I can't?"

"No Courtney, I would never do anything to hurt you, or that you didn't want to do. I'm not like that."

"So if I ask you if we can spend the night just cuddling and nothing else, will you promise me that you'll behave?"

"I can say no?"

"Are you?"

"What do you think, of course not, let's start cuddling."

Courtney immediately spooned up against him with him behind. She pulled his arm around her like a wrap and soon made herself comfortable. Darryl was comfortable too, with one exception. Darryl, the honest, honorable young man could make promises, think pure thoughts, and behave with perfect propriety. Darryl's pecker, on the other hand, worked on a different and simpler system. It felt itself being pressed into an extremely shapely female ass, so it was Christmas in May; let's unwrap the packages and party hardy!

Darryl felt the stirring in his groin. He thought of baseball, without effect. He imagined French kissing his eighty two year-old maiden aunt, no joy. "Ah, ah... Courtney, my promise to behave, ah..."

"Yes, Darryl... what?" asked a skeptical Courtney.

Darryl was blushing bright red. "Ah, I guess I should have said that not everything is ah well under my... ah... control."

"Darryl Sanders, what the hell you talking about?" She looked puzzled for a moment, when suddenly she started. "OH! Oh, how big is that thing?"

She turned around and faced a red-faced Darryl. "It's all right, sweetheart, it's a normal reaction; it's a compliment really. I just wasn't expecting it." She reached towards it. "Can I touch it, Darryl? Please, I've never felt one."

Darryl hesitated, and then nodded. She gently gripped his erection through his pajama bottoms. It was relatively long but thin, which was normal for his age; thickness would come later. Certainly her hands felt good. He had never yet had a true wet ejaculation, but the presence of strong dry climaxes meant that they weren't far in his future. Touching him was causing a reaction in her as well. She licked her lips and looked in his eyes. "Darryl, please, I want to see it; please take off your pajamas; I want to see you. Later, I'll let you see me."

Darryl raised his hips, so that Courtney could pull his bottoms off. He lay back with his arms behind his head and just let her take charge. She gently hefted his testicles as though weighing them. Her small hands had no problem reaching all the way around his thin cock. She started rubbing her hands up and down. Her technique wasn't that good, but the fact that it was her hands made it more effective.

'Darryl, if I took off my nightgown, would it make it easier for you to, you know, get off?"

"Oh my God, yes!"

Courtney lifted her nightgown off, leaving herself dressed only in a sheer pair of white panties. Her adolescent breasts were full and very firm, capped with areolas and nipples of a vivid pink Just the sight of her was almost enough to cause Darryl to climax instantly. "My God, Courtney, you are so beautiful, I can hardly believe it."

"You like me with tits?"

"Oh yes! And they're beautiful tits."

She returned to stroking his erection, while his eyes drank in her beauty. Darryl started feeling a strange tightness in his groin. It was similar to the dry climaxes he had experienced, but so much more intense that it was actually painful. He was afraid he might actually be sick and embarrass himself. His heart was pounding in his ears, and he was starting to feel dizzy. "Courtney, I feel strange; something's happening to me, Oh God!"

Violent spasms shook his whole body, and to Courtney's amazement and delight, he launched several generous dollops of his seed skyward, to come splattering downward on him, on her arm, on the bed. "Wow, that was fantastic, and to think I caused all that. Is it always like that?"

"I don't know, Courtney, that's the very first time I've ever done that. Nothing has ever come out before. It felt fantastic. In Sex Ed. Class they called it an ejaculation; I think it means I am physically a man. "

She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him tenderly. "Oh Darryl, I'm glad I gave you your first real ejaculation. I guess I made you a man. It was fun, too. You want me to give you your second?"

"Yes, later, but there is something I would like even more. Can I touch your breasts? They're so beautiful,"

Courtney blushed, "Part of me is embarrassed to let you, and another part wants to show them off. But I really like you looking at me." And look is exactly what he did. She had just completed puberty. Her breasts were like fruit at the peak of freshness on the vine, completely firm and unblemished, almost too perfect to be real. He reached with a single finger and teased the nipple. It responded by achieving a miniature erection and by setting off a direct reaction of warmth and wetness between her legs. The finger proved to be just a scout for the lips and tongue that quickly followed. When his mouth was drawn to pay homage to her breasts, the intensity and nature of her response marked the functional change to the nerve connections of the breast that accompanied their physical growth, making them an erogenous zone second only to the sexual organs themselves. Courtney, experiencing the first all-out physical stimulation of her newly developed breasts, was not prepared for the strength of her body's reaction.

"Darryl, stop! Please don't touch me any more." And she suddenly ran off in tears.

"Courtney, stop, don't go..." But it was too late. Darryl waited to see if she would come back to go watch the sun rise with him. He was really hurt when she didn't. Finally, he just went to the dock by himself, to lick his wounds and join the countless generations of males before him to sit watching the dawn, hoping to gain some tiny insight into the unfathomable psyche of women.

Since that day when an eight year old Courtney had announced "And something else, Darryl Sanders, I'm going to marry you someday" at this very spot, Darryl had always been certain that the two of them were destined to be together. He wasn't even certain why, because children made and broke such promises and commitments as casually as they changed their socks, and in some cases, even more often. But he was sure, even though he might go several years without coming to the lake house and seeing Courtney. Darryl and Courtney were both attractive and popular and were happy to hang out with members of the opposite sex. But it was common knowledge that they weren't interested in anything other than friendship, and they would gently disillusion anyone who tried to become more. Even though the two had made no formal agreement that would have prevented their dating others, they simply weren't interested. Although they never used the word, because through misuse and overuse, at their age it had become suspect, they were in love, deeply in love.

But at this moment, sitting alone on the dock, a hurt and confused Darryl was less confident of the future. Staring at the surface of the pond, lost in his melancholy thoughts, he never noticed the silent figure that glided in and sat beside him. Her hand tentatively reached out for his, and he resisted until he looked into her eyes and saw where the tears had been. His heart melted, and he took her in his arms and kissed her eyes.

This brought new tears. "I'm sorry Darryl, sniff, I'm sorry. You've got to think I'm an awful bitch and a complete nut case."

"Shhh, don't cry, I don't think any of that about you. I think you're wonderful, but I'm confused, I don't know what you want me to do."

She laughed ruefully. "You mean because one minute I'm making you promise that you won't touch me, the next I'm happily jerking you off and five minutes later, I run crying from the room like a 3rd grader because you touch a tit, at my invitation?"

"Yeah, something like that, I just don't know what you want me to do. I don't want to hurt you or upset you, but that's all I seem to do."

"It's not your fault, Darryl, I'm as confused as you are. It's like I woke up one morning in my mother's body. Things don't feel the same and sometimes I get scared. Do you remember when you were here, and I was eleven? I had just little bumps for boobies, but I let you suck on them, and it felt just sorta tingly nice. Tonight when you sucked on my booby, I felt it all over my body. I even felt it between my legs. I felt out of control. The feelings were so strong they scared me. It wasn't you at all. I wasn't sure I could control myself. It's like that all the time. I need your help finding the real me in all this."

"What can I do? Courtney?"

"You can help because I trust you, I always have. Even when I ran away, I realized later that I didn't need to."

"I promise I will always protect you as well as I can Courtney."

"I want to explore my new body and my new feelings with you, and I need to rely on your promise. Is it fair of me to even ask that from you?"

"Yes OK, and I won't let you down."

"You won't get blue balls will you? I hear boys at school talk about it. I don't want to do that it you"

"Don't worry about me getting blue balls", he said while gently laughing. "I've read that it isn't as common as guys try to make it out to be, but even if it were you've already shown that you can cure them in a hurry. As long as you're willing to help that way I'll never have to worry about it!"

With that they took each others hands and walked back to the house to spend the day like normal teenagers. Darryl went fishing with Grandpa Kedrick, leaving Robyn and Courtney home with Robyn's grandmother. They spent the afternoon in girl talk.

'Grandma," Courtney asked, "Do you remember when you were our age?"

"Oh yes, you never forget the time when you first become a woman, or, let's be honest, you don't forget finally getting tits after checking the mirror every day, or to be nuts about a boy. I'll tell you something, Miss Courtney, if I were your age, I'd wet my panties for your Darryl. He's a hunk."

"Grandma! I can't believe you said that." Robyn looked genuinely shocked.

"Oh, get over it, Robyn, your generation didn't invent sex, you know. I liked cute boys when I was your age, and believe it or not, your old grandpa and I still enjoy a cuddle even now."

Robyn looked mortified, but Courtney's delight was equally evident. "Grandma! That's so cool. And I'm glad you're not my age, or I might find it hard to hang on to my guy. I bet you would have been tough competition. But Grandma, I need advice. Can I ask you some questions?"

"Sure, Honey, you know you can; you want to talk in private?"

"No, Robyn can stay if she wants; we don't have many secrets, and she'll face these same questions soon."

"OK Courtney, how can I help?"

"I feel like I'm half child, half woman; one minute I react to something like a child, and the grown up me is embarrassed. Or Darryl will touch me, and my body will react like a woman, and it will frighten the child. Today I actually ran out crying on Darryl and all he'd done was what I told him he could do."

"Tough one, Courtney. We all have a child side and adult side. The problem is that you have the mind and emotions of a child suddenly living in the body of a woman. The big danger is when people judge you by the body they see, and the child inside gets hurt. Men sometimes chose to seek out young women, whose physical bodies are more mature than their judgment, making this a dangerous time. But you have a regular fellow, Darryl. Do you trust him?"

"Oh yes, Grandma, I trust Darryl completely; he would never hurt me or lie to me."

"That sounds good, but women are often fooled by their own feelings for a guy. Robyn, do you agree with her about Darryl?"

"Yes, Grandma," agreed Robyn, "I wish to hell he wasn't my cousin, because he's one of a kind."

Grandma Kedrick nodded. "My personal take is that Darryl Sanders is an unusually honest and decent young man. OK Robyn, sweetheart, I really need to talk to Courtney alone. Be a dear." It was quite obvious that Robyn did not want to leave and miss anything, but no one ignored a request from Grandma.

Once they were alone, Grandma Kedrick motioned for Courtney to sit next to her on the sofa. "Courtney, I wanted to speak to you in private because I'm going to give you some advice that a lot of other adults might not agree with. You see, a lot of advice from adults is aimed at discouraging children and teens from experimenting with sex at all. But I know that is useless. We all are sexual creatures, so rather than trying to suppress it, I think it's more important to help you learn how to express it in a healthy way. For example what was it Darryl was doing that made you run out of the room?"

Courtney blushed. "He was sucking on my breast."

"No need to blush, honey, that's one of my favorites too. But let me guess what happened. You let him touch your breast a few years ago, and nothing much happened; it just felt nice. This time, suddenly, you find your nipples are directly wired into your pussy. Darryl touched you, and suddenly you're ready to tear off your clothes. Scared the hell out of you, didn't it?"

"Yeah it did. At that moment, Darryl could have done anything; I couldn't have lifted a finger to stop him."

"But he wouldn't have taken advantage, would he?"

"No, and that's the part I forgot, and I hurt his feelings because I forgot. I don't want to hurt him again."

"I agree, and that brings me to the advice I was going to give you, Courtney. I think that you are a very loving person like me. I think you will want to experience all of these new feelings. Except for sexual intercourse which I think you are far too young for, you will probably be at least curious to try almost everything with Darryl. Am I right, Courtney?'

"Yes Grandma, I wouldn't admit this to any one else. Even Darryl, and especially not my mom, but I am crazy about that guy. I know that someday I will give him my cherry, and someday, I will be his wife. I don't know how I know, but I've known since we were eight years old. But I don't want him to think I'm a slut. How do I know what's all right to do?"

Grandma laughed ruefully. "There's never a right answer to that one. If you do too little, you're frigid; too much, you're a slut. The only solution I know is to find someone to love that's too busy loving you to judge you or label you. I think you need to talk to Darryl; tell him your needs, your fears; find out his. I think you can work it out."

"Darryl is easy to talk to, but it'll still be hard to just come out and ask him to do something like oral sex on me. Oh God, I'm sorry; I can't believe I came right out and said that."

"Honey, look at me; you can't shock me. Paw Kedrick, bless his heart, has been munching my carpet for a long time, and I like it as much now as I ever did. So Courtney, if that's something you're ready to try today or whenever, you may think that it's hard to ask this young man who loves you. But if you don't ask him, you run the chance of having it in the back seat of a car with someone who may not care about you at all."

"So you're saying to do as much with Darryl as I can?"

"Yes, my dear, I've done it both ways, and anything we can share with someone we care about is an entirely different experience."

"Grandma Kedrick, did you have an understanding lover to try new things with?"

"Yes Courtney, I was lucky; I had a young fellow, good looking devil and decent like your guy; we shared so much."

"And you still remember him today?"

Grandma Kedrick hugged her. "Honey, it'd be hard to forget him; he and Darryl are out fishing right now."

That night the three teenagers were back watching movies with both girls lying against Darryl. He was surprised when both girls pulled his hands across their breasts and held them there. He glanced nervously at Courtney for a jealous reaction, but she looked straight ahead at the movie. He didn't suspect a conspiracy, even when both girls placed their free hands on his thigh and started gently massaging his leg. Before long the inevitable reaction set in.

Robyn noticed it first. "Courtney, your boyfriend has a problem."

"Again? Well, I suppose I should take care of it."

"Like any help, Courtney?"

"Well yes, thank you, Robyn, that would be very nice."

Robyn immediately reached for his zipper and started to pull it down, when Darryl grabbed her wrist. "Stop, you can't do that, Robyn, you're my cousin."

"Oh, quit making such a fuss, I'm not having your children or anything; I just want to see your hard on. I've never seen a guy... please."

"No, you can't, tell her she can't, Courtney; you're my girlfriend."

"No, sorry, Darryl, she already asked me, and I said OK. I can't really go back on my word now, can I? Oh, come on, Darryl, what'll it hurt?"

As usual Darryl knew that he was going to lose sooner or later, so he resigned with as good a grace as possible. He sighed, "Go ahead; help yourselves."

Darryl's shorts were around his ankles in no time. Robyn whistled, "Wow, it's bigger than I thought; does that really all go in a woman?"

"Now remember," announced Courtney, "if we take off our tops, it will help him shoot his stuff."

Both Courtney and Robyn quickly removed their tops. Robyn's breast buds, almost all nipple, contrasted with Courtney's almost fully mature rounded orbs. Darryl's eyes went back and forth between the two. He felt two set of delicate female hands massaging his erection. It was too many inexperienced hands to achieve anything like a smooth rhythm or a real erotic stimulation, but all sex really starts in the brain. To know that your cock was being fondled by two different women provided Darryl with enough stimulation. Soon his facial expression and ragged breathing signaled the nearness of his climax, even before his verbal warning, "Oh God, I'm coming."

"Watch this, Robyn, this will be so cool; just keep him pointing up," instructed Courtney.

His cock seemed to swell and then launched these individual blasts of creamy white semen straight up, before they splattered back onto Darryl and the giggling girls. When it was over and everyone cleaned up, Robyn took Darryl aside and hugged him. "Thanks, cousin, that was awesome. Courtney is a lucky gal. "

That night he lay awake, wondering if she would come. His hopes told him she would come. His instincts told him she would come. His fears told him she would not. In the middle of the night, she did come, silently like a vision. She paused at the side of the bed and removed her nightgown and then her panties, giving Darryl his first time seeing her totally naked. He hardly had time to enjoy this vision when she took a firm grip and started pulling on his pajama bottoms. He raised his hips and joined her in her nudity.

Then Courtney climbed into the bed, and they embraced. The skin to skin contact made this a totally new and sensual experience. Every nerve ending in their bodies was in a state of hypersensitivity. Every touch, every sound, even fragrances were magnified, making sexual caresses, already intensely pleasurable, almost unbearable.

In this highly charged atmosphere, Darryl was content to ask no questions but to follow her lead. At first, Courtney also seemed reluctant to speak, as though to allow time for them to get comfortable, just to be naked in each other's arms.

Finally she did speak. "Darryl, you let me see your erection, and touch it, and even get you off. You even put up with being tricked into showing Robyn. I'm sorry, but she wanted to see it so badly, and she doesn't have anyone to show her."

"It's OK, I was a little embarrassed, but I didn't really mind, as long as it's just the three of us. I guess girls are curious about boys just like we are about them."

"Oh God, are we ever; we're just not supposed to show it. But it's not just that Darryl, there's more."

"More?"

"Having someone I can trust and who cares about me. I'm very glad you're here this year. I am becoming a woman, and I have a lot to learn about men, relationships, love and sex. Like most girls, I could learn by trial and error, making mistakes with boys who don't really care about me, or fumbling around in the back seat in lover's lane. But because I have you, we can learn these things in a caring way. If you want to, that is. Do you?"

"OK, I just want to make sure I'm getting this. The most beautiful gal in the world, who I just happen to be crazy about, climbs in bed with me, naked, and wants to know if I am willing to practice making love with her. Does that about sum it up?"

"That's about it; you interested?"

"I hope to fucking shout I'm interested; sign me up. So what's the first lesson, teacher?"

"Like I was saying, you really taught the first class about male excitement and getting off. I really should return the favor and let you try female stimulation and orgasm. Have you ever seen the female parts, the pussy?"

"Only in pictures in dirty magazines."

"Darryl, please understand this is not easy for me, I've never let anyone look at me like this. I'm very self conscious. But I am determined to experience this with you."

Courtney rolled over onto her back and opened her legs in open invitation, which he accepted after a moment's hesitation. Darryl just stared, drinking in this extraordinary sight; he also found it extremely arousing. She reached in with her hands and opened herself. He said in a voice, full of wonder, and almost too softly to hear, "So very lovely, you are so very beautiful."

Courtney, touched by the simple sincerity of his compliment, replied in a similar voice," Thank you. You may touch me also."

His touch, when it came, was so tentative and undirected that she suspected, correctly, that he was lost. "Darryl, has anyone ever shown you around a woman's pussy?"

"No, I've touched a girl through her underwear but I had no idea what it was really like before tonight. I'm lost."

"Well, give me your finger; I'm going to show you around. Starting here, this little opening is my anus; I've read that it plays a big part in some women's sex life but not mine, not now any way. Now these lips are called labia, they cover the opening to the vagina, they get wet when I get excited."

"They are very soft now; they feel very nice to touch. I'm getting stiff just from touching you."

"Feel under the lips, this opening is where the man's organ goes during intercourse. Don't stick your fingers in too far; you could break the hymen, my cherry. But most of the nerve endings are right inside the opening, so if you put a few fingers in and work them back and forth... oh yes, yes, just like that, It will feel very good."

"You are starting to feel wetter."

"When you played in me with your finger, it got me excited, so my body made more lubrication to get me ready for intercourse. Of course, I'm way too young to have sex, but my body doesn't know that"

"Like when I get that slippery stuff on my penis?"

"Yes. Now Darryl, feel that little bump, right where the lips come together. That is the the most important spot for getting me excited. It's called the clitoris. Always find it. Now wet your finger, and gently rub it."

"It feels like it's getting bigger."

"It is, sweetheart, the clit is like a little penis; it has erections; now keep rubbing it, and if you want, suck on a breast too."

Darryl followed her directions for a few minutes. He noticed Courtney was starting to squirm and breathe heavily "Am I doing it right?"

"Oh God yes, just right, just absolutely fucking right. Now touch my opening with your other hand, and tell me what you notice, and keep going; don't stop."

"Your lips are hotter and thicker now, and everything's very, very wet, and there is a strong new scent."

"All of these are signs of my excitement; my sex organs are getting puffy, and I am making a lot of lubricant, and that's what you smell. That's me you smell; what do you think?"

Darryl dipped his fingers into her opening and brought them, out covered in the slippery fluid. He held the fingers to his nose and inhaled deeply. He thought a few moments, then took the tip of his tongue and touched his finger. He concentrated again before sticking the fingers in his mouth and licking them clean. "It's not like a perfume, but the scent really turns me on. And your taste, while I can't really describe it, also excites me."

"Oh Darryl, don't stop, I'm getting close; oh God, you're going to make me come!"

"Let it go, Courtney, come for me." He continued to rub her clit. He kissed her, a passionate lover's kiss, full of hope, tongue and promises for the future, and replaced his mouth on her breast with an impish hand that twisted nipples just this side of pain.

It was just enough to give her the first true orgasm not by her own hand, and she found, as had so many others, that climaxes given by one's true love are on a different level entirely. "Oh God, I'm coming; I've never felt like this; Darryl, hold me!"

Darryl watched mesmerized as his lover's body was seized with spasms that shook her like a rag doll. She collapsed in a fetal position, making incoherent mewing noises. He would have been concerned for her well being, except that the huge grin and the way she reached for him indicated all was well.

They spooned together leaving both teacher and student looking forward to the next class.

Epilogue to Chapter 2 by Darryl Sanders

May 1982

The school year that ended in May 1982 was a watershed year in so many ways. Courtney and I both came of age just in time to spend that year exploring our sexuality together. It was a wonderful year, to experience all of those scary and potentially traumatic landmarks with someone you loved. Consequently we moved farther and faster than most of our friends. By the time I left to rejoin my family we were comfortable performing oral sex on each other. Sexual intercourse was never on the table; we both understood that we would give each other our virginity sometime in the future. I never knew exactly when or even if I would get to return to the lake house. Despite this uncertainty, Courtney and I were always sure that we were destined to be together. No other future was seriously considered. We were both excellent students, so we had already chosen a good school that we could be happy attending. Although it wasn't so clear back in the 9th grade, we had both also found our future paths in life.

I had gotten a nice SLR camera from my dad for Christmas and found I had a real knack and love for taking pictures. Soon I was exhibiting and winning prizes with my prints. One of my favorite subjects was Courtney who was, it turned out, naturally photogenic. I ended up with several albums just of her. Given how long it would be before we would be together again, I was glad for the memories.

Courtney had also discovered her great talent in the field of music. She had a voice that would make a nightingale jealous. She was very talented on several instruments, especially the guitar, and rarest of all, she wrote music as well. When I say "wrote," I mean the lyrics and the music. She had a very hard time understanding how the process could be split between two people, since she always heard the complete song in her head, long before it was put on paper. She was performing at all school and community events long before high school.

The last night before I left, we sat up to watch the sun rise on the lake. We had already shed our tears, and we just quietly held each other in the colorful play of the dawn light off the still lake surface. Now was the time we had chosen to exchange our very special gifts to each other.

I gave her a golden album, the very best prints I knew how to make of the very best pictures I had ever taken of our time together. I thought it was a pretty terrific gift, and judging by her reaction, so did she. She kissed me warmly and passionately. But I wasn't prepared for the gift she had for me.

She said, "Darryl, I needed a way to thank you for all the ways you've helped me grow this year. I've written a song for you called 'Song of Thanks'. To make it just your song, I've never sung it to anyone else; I don't plan to sing it to anyone else, and I've never written it down or recorded it. The only record of this song's existence is in my heart, and after tonight, in your heart as well."

Then she picked up her guitar, and that lovely clear voice carried over the lake, still bathed in sun rise hues, and I wept like a baby. I'll never forget those opening words:

You've given me wings

And special things, 

That's what your love brings, 

Thanks to you.

I've stretched and grown, 

Spread my wings and flown, 

I can stand on my own, 

Thanks to you.

The love we share

Is beyond compare, 

And there's more to spare, 

Thanks to you.



-------

Chapter 3: Love Fulfilled & Lost May,1985


May 1985 Senior Prom

The love between Courtney and Darryl had survived high school, as had their ultimate faith in their destiny together, but it had been a far greater challenge than either of them had anticipated. Darryl's parents had State Department careers that had at one time required frequent trips out of the country, causing him to stay at the lake house. More recently their promotions to administrative jobs had brought them home and eliminated the trips. Now Darryl was only able to come during the summer, and even that took the direct intervention of Grandma and Grandpa Kedrick, who were finally able to get his parents to understand that his relationship with Courtney was far more than a childhood crush.

It helped that Darryl was able to persuade his parents to invite Courtney for Christmas, and they found themselves captivated by the beautiful and talented young lady. So with support of parents and friends, the two were able to keep their love alive, even though they lived their high school years in different worlds. And that was no small challenge in the peer and social pressure- charged world of adolescent America.

The two had made no oath or claim on each other. In fact, they both bent over backwards to encourage each other to date and meet people. They both were popular and enjoyed a full social life. But the word was out that they were available for friendship only. Anyone who thought otherwise was gently but firmly disillusioned. Maybe they never gave anyone a fair chance, or perhaps no one ever measured up. Whatever happened, they remained true to each other. And true to that vision, voiced by Courtney, when, at age eight, she announced she was going to marry Darryl someday.

They had come of age together and were comfortable with their sexuality. One act remained unconsummated; they both were virgins. But they knew that they would be each other's first, in time, just as they would be married, in time. They had decided the Junior-Senior Prom was the perfect occasion. Darryl hadn't been able to come her junior year, so Courtney had decided to skip it rather than go with anyone else. This year Darryl, a straight A student, had arranged to take several exams early in order to attend. He would have to return for graduation, since he was valedictorian, but then he would drive back to have his car at the lake for the summer

As soon as everyone knew he was coming for Courtney's final prom, they all pitched in to make it perfect for her. Grandpa and Grandma Kedrick just happened to plan a trip out of town that weekend and asked Courtney if she would "housesit" for them. Courtney, who had a very honest relationship with her mother, simply went to her and told her what she wanted to do. Her mother, appreciative of her honesty and impressed with their restraint to wait this long, gave her blessing and permission to get birth control pills. They agreed not to share this information with her father, with whom she enjoyed a less open relationship.

Grandma Kedrick, Robyn, and Courtney got the house ready in every way. Grandma insisted that they use their upstairs bedroom with its view of the lake. Courtney tried to refuse, but Grandma wouldn't hear of it. She claimed that young love blessed everyone it touched. She and Grandpa also left a refrigerator well stocked with fruit and cheese and snacks and some champagne.

"Can you think of anything else you'll need?" asked Grandma.

"I can," said Robyn, "but I'm reasonably certain that Darryl will bring it with him."

"Other than that, I can't supply everything," laughed Grandma.

"What was your first time like, Grandma?" asked Courtney.

"Well, it wasn't quite as grand as this, but it was very nice. I had a fine, good-looking young man who loved me, and who has stood the test of time. I also had this lake, and we awoke to the same sun rise you will awaken to. All in all, if was mighty good, and I think your first time will be even better."

"All I got was my parents couch, and a guy who loved me until the following Tuesday, and who thought foreplay was a golf term," said Robyn ruefully.

"And whose fault was that?" asked Grandma. "As I recall, you were so determined to lose your virginity, that you just grabbed the first guy available. And why were you so anxious to lose your cherry all of the sudden?"

"I forget, Grandma."

"Well, I don't, young lady. You had your panties on fire to lose your maidenhead because you were afraid you were going to be the last in your group to lose hers. If that ain't a damn fool reason to make one of the most important choices in a woman's life,. I think you got about what you deserved. Courtney is probably the last girl in your high school to lose her virginity."

"I think I may be the last girl in the state, Grandma."

"And that's my point, does it matter? Is someone giving out a trophy? I don't think when matters, just how and with whom. And you're not settling for a couch and a guy that'll lose your phone number the next day."

"I wish I could do it over," said Robyn.

"Well that's the shame, isn't it. Even in a marriage, you can get a divorce and try again. But screw up losing your virginity, and there's no mulligan, no replays allowed."

"Well, thanks to you guys, I don't have to worry about any of that" said Courtney gratefully. "This is so perfect that to ruin this, I'd probably have to somehow deliberately screw it up myself."

Courtney picked up Darryl at the airport the afternoon before the prom. Every time she saw him, he looked more amazing than the time before. "God, Darryl, it's so great to see you; it's so long between visits that I start to believe I just imagined you."

"And you're so beautiful that even after I see you, I still believe I imagined you."

"Oh, you silver-tongued devil, talk like that could just get you in my pants; in fact, I can pretty well guarantee that you are, as they say, going to get lucky."

"And talk like that, I can pretty well guarantee, will, as they say, make my pants very messy, so maybe we can talk about other things."

"What's the matter, getting excited thinking about it?."

"You're kidding, right? Me excited? Not much! I haven't been able to stand up in public for weeks. My roommates are starting to call me Erection Man"

"We, don't worry, sweetheart; I plan to fix your problem very soon."

"Seriously, Courtney, are you nervous?"

"Nervous, yes, some. Excited, a lot. This is a very big event in a girl's life."

"I know. Are you sure I'm the one you want to be your first?"

"Oh, Darryl, what a silly question. That's the one thing I am completely sure of and I have been for years."

"Ok, but here is something I am very serious about, and I want to say it now, before events start to sweep us along."

"What, Darryl? You sound very serious."

"I am, Courtney. You and I have been planning for this day for a long time. Now the Kedricks and our friends, your Mom and a lot of people have all made an effort to make this day special for us. My concern is that this much effort gives the event a momentum of its own. It makes it hard to stop."

"I'm not sure I follow."

"If for any reason, you were to have second thoughts tonight, any hesitation, you would feel the pressure of letting down or disappointing me and all these people who have worked to make this special. I don't want that to happen. I need you to promise me that if you decide we are going to make love tonight, it will be because, and only because, it's what YOU want to happen, not because I want it to happen or all those other people want it to happen. Can you promise me?"

"I'll try, but sweetheart, things that make you happy will make me happy, too."

But right now, her mind was occupied with somewhat less philosophical issues such as 'will Darryl like my prom dress?" A question of monumental importance to a new generation of young women and their mothers year after year. They will attack the problem with seemingly limitless resources of time, money and imagination. Ironically the supposed beneficiary of all this effort, the date, will view the dress primarily as an obstacle to be overcome.

They arrived at the lake house. They had been there so many times before, but it felt very strange, a bit naughty, and terribly grown up to be staying upstairs in Grandma and Grandpa Kedrick's bedroom. It was an amazing room filled with a lifetime of memories of an adventuresome couple very much in love. There were pictures and shells from the Great Barrier Reef, carvings from the African jungle, pottery from the Navaho nation and pictures of Paw fishing in seemingly every body of water on the planet. And yet for all their travels, their favorite view was from this bedroom window, through which they watched the sun rise almost every morning. The same window through which they watched a little girl kiss a little boy during a sun rise a decade ago, never dreaming that one day, they would lend that boy and girl their bedroom in which to consummate their love.

They took a shower together, which gave them a chance to get physically reconnected. They lovingly washed each other, spending a little extra time on each other's favorite erogenous zones. By the time they had dried each other off with the wonderful fluffy spa towels the Kedricks furnished, they tumbled into bed, both flush with sexual excitement. They had lost any shyness about sex during their year of shared sexual discovery, way back in ninth grade, and in their summers since. They had learned to express their needs clearly and directly.

Courtney reached over and took Darryl's erection in her hand. "And so, sweetheart, now you need to make a choice. Do you want to take a nap to recover from your trip and be rested for tonight? Or do you want to take care of this, and while you're at it, scratch an itch you've created in me?

"Tough choice, I really need the nap, and I didn't want to do anything very serious with you before tonight to, you know, make it more special, but I don't think I could sleep with this."

"Well, I feel the same way, so I have an idea. It's a little different, but it'll take care of the problem. You game?"

"Sure, I'm in! What's the idea?"

"What do the two of us do when we're horny, and we're not together, like most of the time"

"That's easy, I take matters in my own hand, go out with Rosy Palms and her sisters, Jack off."

"Exactly and I tickle the kitty, fluff the muff, Jill off. Except we usually have to use our imagination or a picture. How about when we have the real thing to look at?"

"You mean we masturbate while looking at each other? We get off, but still save touching for tonight. I think you're a genius, a naughty genius perhaps, but a genius none the less."

They sat facing each other with their legs spread and their knees up. Darryl went very slowly, knowing that it would probably take her longer to reach a climax. Courtney started by massaging each breast and nipple. He noticed that she twisted her own nipples a good bit harder than he would have. That would change next time. She also pulled on them with her fingernails, and he made a note to try that with his teeth. This was turning out to be educational as well as stimulating.

One of her hands now traveled south where it began rubbing the lips and the area where they joined her thighs. Darryl noticed that she was getting very wet, so he began to stroke his erection in earnest. He noticed the approval in her eyes, as though she preferred him as an active participant rather than a voyeur. She entered two fingers into her opening and began to slowly rock them in and out. Her flow of wetness increased until it was beginning to actually run down the crack of her ass and starting to wet the bed. Her breathing was starting to get a bit more strident than her physical exertion would have required.

Darryl's breathing also was becoming harsher, both as a result of his own masturbation, and from watching this incredibly hot tableau unfold in front of him. This was hot! He wondered why they had never thought of this before. He would be damn sure to think of it again.

Courtney was having similar thoughts, as she was getting extremely excited watching Darryl making love to his cock. It was time to move to the next level. She bought her finger directly to her clit skipping her usual teasing around it. She wanted release as soon as possible. The first real contact made her gasp, drawing his attention to the fact that she was now rubbing directly on her clitoris. He knew she was bringing it home now, so he began stroking in earnest. It had all the signs of a race, right down to the gasping breathes of the participants. Whether it was coincidence or instinct or familiarity with each other, their cries of orgasm and the climaxes themselves were as one. And they were looking in each others eyes when the spasms swept their bodies and left them limp and sated. And minutes later they were asleep in each other's arms.

They awoke just in time to get ready for the dance. For the record, Darryl loved her dress, a classic, off-white lace, full-length gown, with a neckline that showed off her lovely figure. And because he was pretty sure he was getting lucky tonight, he didn't view her dress as an obstacle to be overcome, and he really enjoyed the prospect of having such a beautiful woman on his arm. He excused himself and went to the refrigerator to take out a white box he knew would be there. He returned and handed the box to Courtney, who opened it and removed a stunning corsage. Her eyes misted. "Darryl, it's beautiful; it's perfect; it's like it was made for this dress." She threw her arms around his neck, "I love you so much."

"I can't take all the credit; I had inside help."

"I know, it had to be Grandma Kedrick, but I love you for asking her. And by the way. have I mentioned how incredible you look yourself, my dashing young knight?"

Darryl's dad had surprised him by taking him to a shop that made formalwear for the diplomatic corps and had him fitted for a tux. Darryl had a trim athletic build, and dressed in a top quality custom-tailored tuxedo, he was to certainly going to stand out from the other young men dressed in poorly-fitted, well-worn rented outfits. Since for many of her friends, this would be the first time to actually see this mysterious, almost mythical love of her life, Courtney was delighted that he was going to be so strikingly handsome.

Their entrance at the prom drew every eye in the house. There is no doubt that they were the most attractive couple there. The pure simple lines and delicate lace of her gown perfectly set off Courtney's classic figure and beauty. Darryl's athletic frame, rugged good looks, and open, friendly smile, wrapped in a tailor-made tux, had female heads turning and hearts beating throughout the room. Courtney had never really had much opportunity to dance with him in years, so she wasn't sure, but he seemed confident. His confidence was based on months of lessons and practice with his mother. If there is one thing a career diplomat's wife knew, it was how to dance, and if her son's happiness centered on a prom, he, too, would know how to dance. With his natural athleticism, Darryl proved an apt student. So when he stepped on the dance floor with Courtney, it was with the confidence of many hours of training. Courtney was stunned; not only could he dance, but, as far as she could tell, he could have taught dancing. They danced and danced, slow dance and fast dance; they danced until the principal stopped the band.

"As promised, we have some very special entertainment tonight, I know she's a favorite of yours, as she's a favorite of mine. You'd better enjoy her for free now, because I predict in a few years, if you want to hear her, you'll have to pay for her records, or one of those new CDs that my wife wants me to change to. She's the greatest talent to come out of any student body I've ever been principal of, and she's kept a perfect A average the whole time. I know we're all proud to welcome Courtney Archer to the stage." Darryl turned in surprise, but she had already gone to take her place at the microphone. The huge ovation overwhelmed him; he knew she was talented, but he had no idea how popular she was in her own community. He felt cheated of those years they were apart.

"Your girlfriend's gotten bigger in this music thing than you knew, huh?"

Darryl turned his head; it was his cousin Robyn. "Oh hi, Robyn, good to see you. And yes, you're right; I didn't really know, and I should have."

"Don't beat yourself up, cuz, it's tough to carry on a long-distance, part-time relationship. You miss some things. I think you guys really do a great job all considered."

"Yeah, but now I wonder if that's enough."

"Don't do this, Darryl; tonight's the night for love, not for doubts."

"Maybe we need to deal with the doubts first."

"Darryl, listen to me, if you try to get it perfect, it never happens. You guys have something very special. Just love each other tonight. You have a lifetime to work out the details. If you don't you'll regret it, I promise you, you'll regret it."

The conversation stopped, as did every movement in the hall. Everyone listened, as the most captivating voice imaginable rang out through the room. It was a voice filled with hope and love and feeling. It was a voice that had that special ability, possessed by only a few great singers, to reach out and touch every heart in the room, and make them feel she was singing just for them. Darryl knew nothing about music, but he was absolutely sure that the principal was right. In a few years, everybody in this place would be lining up to buy her recordings. The question was whether he would be waiting in line with them.

When her concert was over, the ovation seemed to go on forever. She was mobbed getting off the stage, so Darryl decided to stay where he was, so she could find him. A very distinguished gray-haired lady came over to him. "You must be the handsome Darryl I've heard so much about. I'm Sarah Purdy, her music teacher. I suppose we must be equally proud of Courtney."

"I'm very pleased to meet you, Ms. Purdy, and congratulations on your skills as a teacher. Tell me, is she as good as I think she is?"

"Forgive me for correcting you, but it's a teacher's habit. First, you're not a student here, so please call me Sarah. Second, I'm afraid it's not my skills as a teacher, though I try. Courtney is an incredible natural talent. There is not much I could teach her. Lastly, I have no way of judging how good you think she is. If you think she could become best female vocalist and songwriter in the country, then I'd say you're about right,"

"Wow, that good!"

"Potentially that good; that's a very different thing."

"What makes the difference?"

"Training, and that's why I'm talking to you."

"Talking to me? Why?"

"With her grades, Courtney could go to almost any school in the country. With her musical talent, she should be going to Juilliard or another top music and arts school. She is only interested in going to school with you. I don't think anyone but you can change her mind."

"I will get her to change."

"Listen Darryl, I know it's asking a lot possibly jeopardize your relationship for her future."

"No, Sarah, you don't understand. I won't have her making decisions based on my needs, not on hers, I will get her to change, I promise."

This was not exactly the reaction she was expecting. "Well, thank you for listening, Darryl; I know you both will do the right thing. Good night."

Finally the knot around Courtney reached him. "Hi, sweetheart, how did I do? Did you enjoy my little concert."

"Courtney, you were fabulous, I didn't realize just how good you had become. I may have to buy tickets to see my best girl soon."

"Silly, you'll never have to buy tickets to see me." She grinned slyly, "I'll always have my agent send you passes."

"I'd ask you to dance, but where did everybody go?"

"I was afraid of this. They asked me if I would mind singing late, because they figured a lot of people would stay just for my concert. Looks like they were right. That's OK; I'm ready to leave if you are."

"Yeah, honey, I am, and I'm hungry. I still want to take you out for a candlelit dinner for two."

"Sounds yummy, but we may have to settle for burger-biggie. How are you going to arrange a fancy dinner this late?"

"Well according to this note I found in my dresser drawer, we have reservations at Chateau Ste. Michael, arranged by our fairy Grandma."

"Uh oh, Darryl, are you sure you want to go there? I've heard it's incredibly expensive."

"Not our problem, the back of the note says it's all paid for, courtesy of Grandpa Kedrick, plus some personal advice for me tonight that I won't share."

They arrived at the restaurant, obviously the youngest patrons there. The maitre d' spotted them immediately and came over. "Ah, you have to be Mr. Sanders and the lovely Miss Archer. I am Basil, the maitre d'. Two of my favorite people in the whole world, the Kedricks, have asked me to make you feel like honored guests this evening. I shall do my utmost and expect my entire staff to do the same. Please do not let your smallest wish go unattended."

"Thank you Basil. I'm sure we will have a lovely time"

"And, may I beg a personal favor from the talented Miss Archer?"

"Of course, Basil, what might that be?"

"If you happen to have your instrument with you and will indulge us for a song, Miss Archer, we would all be delighted. You see, your talent is well known throughout the community."

"I'll make a deal with you, Basil. I do have my instrument in the car. If your meal is as good as I've heard, because your restaurant's reputation is well known throughout this community as well, then I will be delighted to entertain with a few songs."

"Wonderful, I'll call my wife and daughters to come as well. Don't worry, if your meal isn't the finest you've ever tasted, then my chef will be flipping burgers tomorrow night.

The chef's job was in no danger. Darryl and Courtney received superb food and service under Basil's watchful eye. They ordered, at their waiter's suggestion, the Chateaubriand for two. It had the elegance to please her, the red meat to please him, and the shared quality to make it a lover's meal. It was the first chance they had to catch up, and they reminisced back to their first sunrise, when they first held hands. They looked forward into a less certain future.

"Courtney, it's pretty clear now that music is your future; have you thought about that?"

"But you're my future, too, Darryl; I know that."

"Then we need to think about making it possible for them both to fit, don't we?"

"I'm not giving you up."

"I don't want you to; maybe we need to be talking about me making room in my life for your music."

"I'd never ask you to do that, Darryl."

"I know you wouldn't, sweetheart, but it doesn't matter if you ask or not. It has to be. Soon you and your music will be part and parcel, inseparable, and that's the way it should be. You are the kind of talent that comes along a few times in a generation. You can't walk away from that."

"You don't know how often I've wished I could and make my life simple again."

"Yes, today I realized that you haven't faced this question of fitting me and music in your life."

"How do you mean?"

"Do you know that the principal was halfway through his introduction before I realized he was talking about you. I felt like a complete idiot; my best girl was a local superstar, and the only person in the room who had no idea was me. Even allowing for modesty, it's pretty obvious that you didn't want me to know how big music had become in your life. Then take colleges; you know you need to go to a first class music school, but you are planning to go to the wrong school just to be with me. That's choosing based on other people's needs, not your own."

"Sarah Purdy got to you tonight, didn't she?"

"I talked to her, but dammit, Courtney, she's right. Were you going to even bring it up to me?"

"No. Well, maybe, but not tonight. Please, Darryl, let's not do this tonight. Any other time, but not tonight. Her voice and her eyes told Darryl to back off.

"I'm sorry, Courtney, not another word; what I was trying to say, apparently badly, is I really love your music, and I'm proud of you, and I want to be part of it and support it, that's all."

He could tell she at least wanted to believe him. "Thanks, love, your support means the world to me."

Steering the conversation back to safer ground, they enjoyed the rest of dinner. For dessert they skipped the more exotic offerings for the large strawberry short cake and two spoons. They enjoyed feeding each other spoonfuls, carefully leaving a little dollop of whipped cream on a nose whenever possible.

Dinner was hardly finished when a parking attendant showed up with her guitar case, and Basil started hovering expectantly. Darryl leaned over to whisper conspiratorially to Courtney. "Psst, Music Star, unless your meal was in some way inferior to mine, I think Basil is waiting to collect his private concert."

"Well, he's earned it. This time, Darryl, would you come with me?"

So they both rose and went with Basil, who set her up at the musical stage in the center of the restaurant. Darryl and Basil waited while she tuned. Then Basil made a very handsome and gracious introduction, which was greeted by generous applause. Darryl noticed a bunch of presumably restaurant staff and their families listening from backstage. Again she surprised him, not by the quality of her voice, which was superb, but by her versatility, because she adjusted to the smaller space and type of audience so smoothly that you would have thought she had sung no where else in her life. As before, she owned her audience, and two songs quickly stretched to four, and only pleading prior commitment got her out of there even then.

They finally got back to the lake house and made their way to the master bedroom. Darryl did remember to bring her guitar. Since everybody else was getting a concert, he figured he rated one as well... He brought food and champagne up from the refrigerator. Then they lit the candles, put music on the stereo and had the room ready for a proper deflowering.

He reached for her and kissed her long and soulfully. She responded with warmth and passion. Then she paused. "Wouldn't you like to get some clothes off first?"

"Well yeah, I'm a guy, I always want to get some clothes off, but I thought I'd trick you and appear romantic by kissing first."

"Romance, my ass, that's because you're not wearing a full length dress and high heels. I can hardly move. Besides, I think you'll really like what I have beneath this dress."

"Forsooth Madam, you have pricked my interest, or interested my prick, one of those, but by all means let's get more comfortable."

Courtney removed his tuxedo jacket and trousers, then his cummerbund, which all went on Grandpa's valet. When she removed his shirt, however, she carefully set it on her side. At his questioning look., she replied, "That's for me to wear in the morning, silly; what do you think men's shirts are for? Now it's your turn."

Darryl found the zipper on the back of the gown. He helped her remove her arms from the sleeves; then she let the dress drop to her ankles. Without even turning around. "You just got an erection, didn't you?" She reached around with her hand and grabbed him. "Men, God love 'em, like a cheap Timex, simple and dependable, take a decent pair of tits in a bustier, an OK pair of legs in hose and garters, and honey, if they're not stiff, then they're a stiff."

And it was true, as soon as Darryl saw that she was wearing an off-white bustier to go with her dress, plus bikini panties and white stockings, held up by garters, he had suddenly developed a full-blown erection. And that was only from the rear. When she turned around and leaned forward enough to let him fully appreciate her décolletage, and he saw the hint of pubic shadow through her sheer panties, he was almost afraid of an embarrassing accident.

She was in the mood for a little teasing. "See anything you like, Darryl?"

"Oh God, Courtney, I love it all. You could stay just like that all weekend, and I'd be happy."

"Well, if you insist, sweetheart, I will, but I had a tiny bit more planned like fucking you within an inch of your life."

"Well maybe we can start with some kissing now."

"Not in such a hurry to undress me now, are you, Darryl?"

The climbed in the king-size bed, and she curled up in his arms, and they kissed and nuzzled and nibbled around each other's mouths and necks and ears. Courtney loved kissing, but usually by now Darryl would be pushing the tempo a little. Tonight, he was hanging back, and she suspected she knew the reason why. "Darryl, if I ask you something, will you tell me the truth?"

"You know I will."

"Has my outfit got you pretty excited?"

"Pretty damned excited; I'm embarrassed; I feel like a school boy."

"You shouldn't feel that way; I'm flattered. I know all your buttons, and I chose this outfit to push them all at once. It's Ok. Just let me take care of you, so we can move ahead."

"You don't mind?"

"Darryl, I'll mind when I can't turn you on, not when I can. Just don't be afraid to tell me when you need release. OK?"

She pushed him back on the pillows and straddled his legs, where he would get full benefit of her lingerie. She took his erection in both hands and slowly stroked it, pausing on each stroke to give extra attention to the sensitive area around the crown. Every few strokes she would lean forward and take him into her hot wet mouth. She would use her tongue to massage the bottom side of his shaft. While she was bent over, she also gave him a great view down her bustier to show her beautiful breasts. As his groans indicated his approaching climax, she spent more time using her mouth. From experience she knew how to read his body as well as he did, so she knew that he was about to come before he gasped out a warning. If he expected her to remove him from her mouth, he was wrong. Courtney never found semen to be a gourmet treat that she'd order from a catalogue, nor did she find it offensive. Swallowing it was not unpleasant; it gave him pleasure and in a way she felt it gave them a connection.

When he collapsed back on the pillow gasping, she removed the bustier and stockings, feeling they had served their purpose. Then clad only in her panties she cuddled up with him and waited for him to recover. When Darryl caught his breath he found her looking at him. "Hey Darryl, you know what they have in their bathroom that I want to try?"

"Yep, I saw it too, and I figured you'd ask. Looks like fun to me."

They hopped up, threw off their few remaining clothes and ran laughing into the huge master bath. They both made a bee line to the large whirlpool bath. "I always wanted to try one of these."

"You just want to have a beautiful girl bathe you."

"Yeah, that too."

They located some nice bath salts, some nice French cut soap, sponges and brushes. What resulted was part romantic bath and part kids playing in a puddle. It was the best of each; it was all the tenderness of a lover's bath, right down to washing a foot with the same loving care as a breast. It was playful right down to giggling appropriately during a solemn toe sucking. At the end they were as clean and as happy as two people could ever hope to be.

They climbed back in the bed, and Darryl opened a bottle of champagne and poured two glasses. "I propose a toast," said Darryl, "here's hoping that when we rise from this bed, at least one of us is no longer a virgin."

Courtney laughed "Well, since I can conceive of no way of one of us making it without the other, I'll drink to that."

"Are you nervous?"

"A little. You?"

"Yeah, me too."

"Well then a little less talking and a little more fucking might help."

The two just cuddled up and started a familiar comfortable dance. Starting with a lot of kissing, first the mouth, then the ears, shoulders, and neck. Then Darryl would play extended homage to the breast. Then he would concentrate on stimulating the nipple with lips, tongue and gentle nipping with the teeth. Finally he would end by an extended period of suckling her nipples like an infant which reliably caused her head to extend back and her breathing to become little individual puffs and the production of copious wetness.

Tonight it wasn't working. At least her body wasn't. The basic sounds and motions that she could make were there, but the body responses were not. Darryl even surreptitiously snuck a feel between her legs, and the wetness just wasn't there. A lover less attuned to her would have never known anything was wrong, but they had learned their body's responses together, so there were no secrets. He probably knew something was wrong before she did, and certainly before she would admit it.

He decided to play along a little longer. He kissed his butterfly kisses across her abdomen. She oohed and aahed appropriately, but the little nervous spasms of the abdominal muscles were completely missing. He positioned himself to "go downtown," wondering how she would deal with the fact that he could hardly be expected to overlook a lack of wetness once his face was planted in her crotch.

She went for the bluff. She grabbed his face. Brought it up for a passionate kiss. "Enough foreplay, take me; take me now; I need you now; make me your woman!"

It was a good act. Another might have bought it. He couldn't. He knew he would be ramming his organ into an unprepared, unlubricated vaginal track. He shook his head sadly. "Don't do this, Courtney. We don't lie to each other. You are not ready. I don't know why, but this is not going to happen."

She looked like she had been slapped. She burst into tears. "It's not you, Darryl. I love you so much; it's not you." And that's all she could say. He held her while she cried. It took a long time, but finally she had cried herself out.

"Are you ready to talk?" he asked gently.

"Yes, and this isn't about you; I love you as much as I ever have."

"I understand; now what is it about?"

"I'm not sure, Darryl; part of it is that I haven't figured out how to fit you and music both in my life. I didn't want to deal with it, but you brought it up. Part of it is feeling like I have two lives, my life here, and my life with you, and I let them get too far apart. And then this whole thing here, it's too set up, everything's too perfect; you pop in at the last second, and pop, I get deflowered; it was kinda weirding me out, I feel like I'm in a movie. So I wanted some breathing room, but I felt I would let you down and Robyn down and my mom and the Kedricks and the whole frigging town down and suddenly making love to you was a duty, an obligation, a chore, and I didn't want it to be that. Oh Goddamn it, Darryl, I'm being a big cry baby; I do want to fuck you, I've wanted to for a long time, but I don't want it to be someone else's circus, and I don't want to have the major questions unanswered."

"When you talk, you really talk. OK my turn. I want to talk some. You haven't figured out how to fit us together, because you locked me out. I have to make room in my life for your music, and it works. For example, the schools we were talking about don't have music programs, because we chose them before you got into music. There are several schools with top music programs that also offer what I want, so that can be win-win."I agree that your two lives are too separate, so I guess you're going to have to get me up to speed, because I want to be a part of your life and your life is music.I couldn't agree more about this setup and the pressure. I know everyone had good intentions, but the result is like a Catskill Honeymoon Lodge. I don't need a heart shaped bed to remind me to fuck my woman. I believe in spontaneous, not scripted, so the pressure's off, we'll fuck if and when we're ready."

"Oh God, thank you for understanding, Darryl. I thought you would hate me for getting you to fly down here for nothing"

"Courtney, I did not fly down here to sleep with you, I flew down to be here for your prom and to be with you. If you didn't know that, you don't know me."

"I know you; I just have trouble believing you're you sometimes."

"There is one thing you have to do before I go, if I'm not going to be disappointed."

"Anything, I think I might even like to reconsider my earlier decision."

Darryl got up and opened the curtains; the sun was starting to rise above the lake. "Thanks, but I think it would be wise to put that off until I get back next week; after all, there's no rush. No, what I want you to do is sing my song."

So even though Darryl didn't get to make love to Courtney the night of the prom, it looked like they solved the problems that had gotten in their way, and the night had ended on the most positive possible note. There they were together, watching the dawn light reflect off the still lake surface while her beautiful voice sang:

You've given me wings

And special things,

That's what your love brings,

Thanks to you.

I've stretched and grown,

Spread my wings and flown,

I can stand on my own,

Thanks to you... 

May 1985 One Week Later

Darryl drove straight back after graduation. He could hardly wait to get back to Courtney. They had a lot to do. First, pick new schools based on her need for music training. Fortunately they both had records that would allow them to make a late change. He wanted to learn a lot more about her musical life. And last but not least, there was the matter of making love for the first time.

When he arrived at the lake house, he was surprised when Grandma Kedrick asked him to walk with her to the dock. His heart froze when she handed him a note, and he recognized Courtney's handwriting.

THE NOTE



My Dearest Darryl,

My father has stolen all our dreams. He has deserted my mother and me, leaving us nothing but debt. No college, no music, no Darryl. All I have left is trying to take care of my mom. We are going to live with our only relatives. I will not tell you where, because I will not allow you to throw your life away. I have no future to give you. I may be forced to do things I am not proud of, in order for us to survive.

Please don't try to find me. I want you to remember who I was, and what we had.

And what we had was very special. I wish I could have last Friday night back. How silly my little concerns seem now. I wish we had made love before my father stole my dreams.

Farewell, my one true love,

Courtney



-------

Chapter 4: Ten Years Apart May 1985 - May 1995



Content Warning This chapter regrettably contains NO SEX. The characters mention having sex once or twice, but even then, it's not very good sex. If you find the idea of ten years without good sex unpleasant, then you have grasped a key element of this decade in the lives of our main characters. The author found the idea so downright depressing that he required Darryl and Courtney to write about it themselves. He will rejoin you in the next chapter, which has some dandy sex.



May 1985 — May 1995 The Years Apart by Darryl Sanders

Thank God, Grandma Kedrick was with me when I got that note. I found out later that the note actually was given to Robyn, who didn't want the responsibility. When Grandma offered to deliver the note, Robyn gratefully accepted. Neither knew what the note said, but they both knew it was bad news. The entire town knew that Courtney and her family had disappeared overnight. The local gossip was that Mr. Archer had deserted his family to run off with a girl from work, not much older than his daughter. Furthermore, he had emptied their bank accounts and left his wife and daughter penniless, forcing them to move before the next month's rent was due. Nobody had any idea where they'd gone.

Grandma held me while I cried shamelessly. Finally I asked her, "Grandma, I don't want to loose her, what can I do?"

"I don't think there is anything you can do. It's a big world out there; I don't think you will find her unless she wants you to. They didn't leave an address because I think her Dad owed a lot of money. You can't file a missing person report with the police; she's with her mom; you're just a boy friend. No, as hard as it is, I think you have to do what she asks: nothing."

"It's very hard. We had all these dreams together."

"I know it's hard. And don't let go of those dreams quite yet. She still knows how to find you. Sometimes things in life are not as completely hopeless as they seem. Maybe she and her mother will find a way to get their lives back on track sooner than they think. They are both very capable women. Give her a year. Go on with your life, but keep a space open for her that one year. If you haven't heard from her by then, the best thing you can do is take her advice, and move on. Cherish the memories, but let the dreams go."

"I know you're right, and I'll try, but it won't be easy to let go of the dreams. You know she wrote a song for me. I wake up every morning, and I hear her sing my song. You've heard that voice, Grandma. How can I forget her as long as I hear that song in my head every day?"

"I don't know; perhaps the song will fade."

"Perhaps, I guess we'll see. Not like I have any choice. What do you think I should do now?"

"Darryl, you are like our own grandson, and you are welcome to stay here anytime. But I think that staying here this summer would be too painful. If we hear from Courtney, we'll call you. Otherwise, I think you'd be better off at home, but I insist you at least stay overnight, and until I think you are emotionally ready to drive safely."

"Thank you, I think you're right, and I'll plan to leave tomorrow morning.

The next morning I sat on the dock by myself, watching the sunrise over the lake. I thought about the many other sunrises I had shared with Courtney. I remembered the eight-year-old girl kissing my cheek and promising to marry me. I could still feel that kiss. I remembered the budding musician singing me the song she'd written for me. I remembered a newly emerging woman asking me to help her explore this new world with her. And I remembered (was it really only a week ago?) a lover explaining why we had not lost our virginity, and why we would this day. Oh, wouldn't we both like a chance to redo that night, when we let little fears get in the way of the great truth of our love.

But life doesn't always give second chances and we didn't get one. I sat there on that dock but it didn't feel like the same place without her. The most important part was missing, and all that was left were the colors of the sunrise and that haunting song in my mind ... I've stretched and grown, 

Spread my wings and flown, 

I can stand on my own, 

Thanks to you... 

I got up, walked to my car and drove away. I had no idea that this would be my last visit. About a year later, Grandma Kedrick was diagnosed with an aggressive form of ovarian cancer and was dead in a matter of months. Paw died about six months after that of unspecified heart trouble. Those of us who knew him knew that a broken heart was the trouble. Life without his wife just wasn't worth it. I would have attended the funerals, but there weren't any. The Kedricks had always joked that they weren't going to host any parties they couldn't attend. At least, everyone thought it was a joke, until it turned out it was actually written in their wills. The lake house was sold, and I never saw it again.

While I never saw them again, I never forgot them, and it turned out they didn't forget me. I graduated college with a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree, ready to pursue a career in photography. At graduation after greetings from my parents, friends and family, a striking rugged-looking stranger in an Australian Akubra hat stepped up to me. With a friendly open smile, he introduced himself. "Howdy, Darryl, my name's James McNicol. Congratulations on your degree. I am a photographer, too, mostly for National Geographic."

"I know your work, Mr. McNicol; we studied it at school, but I don't understand why you're here."

"First, call me James; all my friends do, and we're going to be friends. I'm here because two of the finest people that ever lived, the Kedricks, believed in me years ago when no one else did. They got me started in photography; without them, there is no way you would have been studying my work in school. They also believed in you. They set up this graduation present before they passed away and your family has graciously given me a few minutes to present it."

"They were very special people and I still miss them so much but it's hard to believe they would be that thoughtful. What did they do?"

"It's in my jeep; you'll have to come with me. Bring your family, too."

We all walked over to his jeep where he opened the back and pulled out a set of brand new camera bags. "I picked this out for you myself; I think you'll like it. Take a look inside."

I opened the bags and stood there stunned, I found a complete professional package of two Nikon F4 camera bodies, then in their first year of production and well out of reach of new graduates. Along with the camera bodies was a complete suite of lenses, filters, flash units and every accessory a well-equipped professional photographer could wish for. The package was so well chosen that I was several years into my career before I spent the first penny on equipment. I turned around with tears in my eyes. "I am completely overwhelmed; what an incredible gift!"

"Well actually, there is a wee bit more to it," said James, almost with embarrassment.

"More? What? I can't imagine what more could there be."

"They also wanted to include some training, so you get me. I have a cabin in the mountains, and I want you to be my guest for a week. We'll go shooting everyday. All types of subjects. At the end, If I'm successful, I'll probably find you my most dangerous competition. You can come next week, if it's convenient."

For a week of one-on-one with James McNicol, I made damn sure it was convenient. I learned more in that week than in four years of college. We shot everything from wildlife to nudes. We spent hours in the darkroom. He was a tough teacher but patient and fair. It was also the beginning of a lifelong friendship, as well as a fruitful professional association. James would often refer clients to me, if he was going to be away, and I did my best to make sure they were very pleased with my work. With the education, the training, the equipment and the contacts, my career took off, and I was soon making a more than comfortable living, while being able to pick and choose the jobs I wanted. My professional life was going nowhere but up.

My personal life was going nowhere at all. I never heard from Courtney, and while I took grandma's advice and tried to move on, it was proving harder than it sounded. Not that I was still a virgin. I finally gave in to the charms of a determined young lady who to this day, believes I was joking about my virginity. It was certainly a far from unpleasant experience. As they say, for a guy, any sex is better than no sex. Was it anything like I believe that night at the lake could have been? No, not even close. As the years went by, I learned that with most of the women I met, if we had more than a few dates, they'd start looking for some degree of emotional commitment. This I just couldn't offer. Not as long as I heard that song in my head, and so far, it showed no sign of fading.

I'll never forget the day I first heard her on the radio. It had been almost seven years since I'd last seen her. I was in the car, driving to an assignment, not really paying attention, when suddenly, I heard her voice. I didn't know the song, but I knew it was her voice, those clear bell-like tones, the feelings, hell, it was the voice I woke up to every morning. I broke out in a sweat; my hands were gripping the wheel like I would break it off and I devoured that voice as if it was the Angel Gabriel singing. It seemed like an eternity before the announcer came on. "And there you have the voice of rising star Courtney Archer, mark my word, folks, this gal's going straight to the top."

My world went black for a minute, and I'm just lucky I ended up on the shoulder, instead of in a wreck. I was a jumble of emotions. Elation that she had overcome everything and made it. Sadness that I was not a part of it. Hope that maybe I could at least see her again. Fear that a big star wouldn't even remember me.

I drove into town and stopped at the first record store "I'm looking for that new singer Courtney Archer."

"You and everybody else. This has to be one of the hottest launches since, hell, I don't know, maybe the damn Beetles; well maybe not that hot, but damn hot. You're in luck; just got a shipment, they'll be gone by lunch."

I grabbed a CD and paid for it. I looked at it and was stunned. The cover showed the unmistakable figure of Courtney, semi-silhouetted, standing on a dock with a lake and a sunrise in the background. I was sure that it wasn't "our" lake, but it looked like someone was trying real hard to duplicate it for the picture. The title of the album was 'Missing You". To anyone else, it was just a typical album cover in the popular style. To me, the picture and the title were like a note in my hand saying "please write." The notes inside even gave an address.

Feeling hope for the first time in years, I went straight home and wrote a note. Knowing she wouldn't be the first to read it, I made it friendly but not overtly passionate. I mainly told her how to reach me and made sure my name was prominently featured in the letter and on the envelope, so however they were screening, they couldn't miss it. I tried to go about my life without thinking about it, but in my mind I was always wondering when I would hear a response.

It wasn't long in coming. When I saw the envelope, regular mail, I was a bit disappointed. I expected a call or FedEx, at the very least. I tore it open, and my heart sank. It was a standard fan form letter and a lithographed 8x10 fan picture, complete with machine-made autograph. Message received; there was no message. The album cover was just that, cover art, I'd even shot a few myself, everything else was my imagination. Well, hell, it had been seven years, I should have known better. Now would the song finally fade?

It probably wasn't the healthiest thing psychologically, but I became a fan. I couldn't help it; I really loved that voice. I had every album. I saw her on TV and wept. Ms Purdy was right; I saw her win Best New Artist, Song of the Year, Album of the Year, Best Female Pop Vocal Performance, and a raft of other awards. It was always bittersweet, while I rejoiced for her; I cried for us.

But I never tried to contact her again. Finally, she had a concert scheduled in my city for May 1995, ten years since I had last seen her. I debated the wisdom of going. I knew that seeing her in person, even anonymously in a crowd, would be very different from seeing her on an electronic box, but I couldn't pass it up. I had to hear and see her in person one last time. Then I would say goodbye forever. When I walked out of that concert, I was determined to turn my back on Courtney Archer as anything other than a voice on the radio.

May 1985 — May 1995 The Years Apart by Courtney Archer

I knew I had made a mistake before we even left the lake house. I had let my brain take over the one time my heart should have been in charge, and I let Darryl leave with our love unexpressed. I wondered if he had any way of knowing how much I loved him. That mistake made all that followed even harder to bear.

I never was particularly close to my father; he was not a very warm and caring man. As my friends and I started to sexually mature, we found ourselves uncomfortable around him as his eyes showed an unhealthy interest in us. Soon my friends stopped coming around. When my mom asked me about it, I made excuses, but I think she guessed the truth. Even I avoided being home alone with him. I always felt him undressing me with his eyes, and I felt sure that it wouldn't take much to get him using his hands.

Still, it was a total surprise when I came home and found my mother in tears. She had suspected him of fooling around, but she never thought he would totally desert both of us and leave us without any means of support. Hell, we didn't have anything beyond the cash in our pockets. We just packed the car with what we could and left the rest. I took time to write a note to Darryl. It was hard, but I basically wanted him to drop me and get on with his life. I couldn't see anyway for us to be together. I'd just be a drag on him and hold him back. I wasn't sure how mom and I were going to survive. We stopped by, and I gave the note to Robyn. Neither she nor Grandma Kedrick asked any questions, though I knew they wanted to. They just hugged us.

We were a hundred miles down the road before I realized that Grandma had stuffed $500 in my pocket. I would have pitched a fit if I had caught her at it, but I'm glad she did. I don't know how we would have made it without that money. It was way after the fact that I learned of their passing, but it made me sad and I wrote a song about them called "Angels Among Us"; it did really well.

My mom had an uncle she thought would take us in. Uncle Bill, as I called him, was the salt of the earth and very kind, but he totally lacked ambition. Consequently, he had a large house, which he had inherited, and not two dimes to rub together. We had a roof over our head and nothing else. So Mom and I hit the pavement job hunting. Mom was a capable lady, but with no particular job skills or experience, about the best she could hope for was waitressing. Since Dad's timing had managed to get me before college and before I had cut any music demos, I wasn't much better off myself. No one here had heard me sing. I was getting close to the bottom. I was starting to think about those things I had mentioned in my note, things I'm not proud of. I might have one-in-a-million vocal cords but my fairly nice, but in no way extraordinary, boobs had a better cash value. I had picked up a fair number of job offers for nude modeling, topless dancing and the like. The money was good, but I wasn't quite desperate enough to take that step yet. But I knew it might come to that eventually. It always does for a pretty girl if she's desperate for money. That's why I warned Darryl in my note that I might end up forced to do things I was ashamed of.

My honor was saved by the unlikeliest of knights in rather tarnished armor. It seems that dad, in his mid-life crisis, had taken to booze as well as young chicks. He managed to head-on a semi, killing both himself and his playmate instantly. I felt sorry for her. It also seems dear old dad had gotten behind in his paperwork and had never changed his will or the beneficiary on his insurance. That means we got back all the money he took, minus what he'd spent, some investments Mom didn't know about, and best of all, a quarter of a million, triple indemnity life insurance policy. It wasn't enough to put us on Easy Street, but it got the wolf away from the door, so that at least, we could get our own place.

I actually thought about trying to contact Darryl, but I decided against it. I was a long way away, and I couldn't leave Mom, who remained an emotional basket case. I still did not have anything to offer him. I had found a small, private college, nearby with a good music program. There was one faculty member who was retired from the Met and taught voice. She figured she could teach me for maybe two years, before I would need to move on. There was also a good guitar instructor. They could offer me a student work scholarship, for teaching individual lessons and supervising practice sessions. It wasn't Juilliard, but it was a start, and it wasn't costing anything but time. I soon picked up private students on my own and started making a little money.

I was also meeting people my own age and making friends. I went out on a few dates, but the results were not very pleasing. I even relinquished my maidenhead to one sincere and persistent suitor. I'm afraid I did him a disservice. He was a kind and well intentioned lover, but unknown to him, he was expected to fulfill my expectations from that prom night with Darryl. He failed, and I never went out with him again. I locked myself in my room and cried for two days; I felt so cheated and dirty. I had deserved that night, and my father stole it. But I also cried, because as much as I wanted to blame my father, I also knew I threw that night away.

After that I just didn't have a sex life. I fell back on the pattern from high school of being available for friendship only. A few times, I made exceptions to that rule, and I always ended up feeling empty afterwards. Eventually, I just stopped being very social. I started dreaming of somehow reliving that night. It was a childish dream. I didn't know where Darryl was or what he was doing. Did he ever think of me? The lake house was gone. Why was I so caught up in a stupid teenage dream?

I was finishing up my time at the college; the music faculty all agreed that they had taught me all that they could, and they were prepared to help me get into a good school. Then the one piece I needed fell into place. Mom fell in love. Mom met a really decent guy who loved her as much as she loved him and they began planning a wedding. Now I could leave her, knowing she would be taken care of. My professors at the college got on the phone and talked to faculty all over the country. They described me and my talents, and they looked for the best match. I trusted their judgment and knowledge. They unanimously recommended the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and said I'd like it there as well.

I packed my car with what little I owned, my meager savings and my guitar, and headed to North Carolina. It was a good choice. I spent two great years there and rounded out my musical skills. I loved the campus and the campus life. I'd like to claim that my love life improved, but I'm not here to lie. I did make two friends that were to have a huge impact on my life.

Jaclyn Cavanaugh was a major in business administration. I met Jaclyn, because she walked up after I gave a campus recital and announced, "Hi Courtney, I'm Jaclyn Cavanaugh, and I'm going to be your manager."

"Hello Jaclyn, glad to meet you, I hate to disillusion you. I'm just a student. I don't have anything to manage. If I don't find a roommate soon, I may not even be a student."

"Actually, we graduate at the same time, and then you are going to need me, because you're going to the top, and you'll need the best. I'm going to be the best."

"And so modest."

"No, let me demonstrate why you need me even now. That dump you're planning to rent is way over-priced, which is why you can't find a roomie. Now I've got you a nicer place, 30% more footage, one block closer, and $85 a month less, plus a very dependable roommate. That would be me. You can move in tonight."

"Is that all?"

"No, actually I have four private students lined up for you, at $10 an hour more than you got at the last place."

"How do you know what I got at the last place?"

"It's your manager's job to know. Am I hired? You don't pay me till I get your professional career going."

"With terms like that, how can I refuse?"

"Great, now when do we go looking for Darryl?"

"Jaclyn," I warned, "There are parts of my life a little too private for a manager."

"Suit yourself honey, but one day, you're going to pop."

Despite her manner, Jaclyn was deadly serious. She had grown up in a music business family and had seen how incompetent and dishonest managers had robbed her family blind. She decided to do it the other way around. She would become a manager and then find a talent to work with from the start who would make them both rich. She didn't just pick me out of the hat. After she heard me the first time, she had a couple of members of her family come up and listen to me. When they unanimously agreed I was star material, she researched me and then made her pitch. We became roommates, confidantes and an inseparable team.

The other friend was Karl Jager, a criminal justice major, two years behind us. I think he was sweet on Jaclyn. But he planned to go into private security, and according to Jaclyn's timeline, I would be needing private security just about the time he graduated. I wasn't as sure of that, but I agreed that Karl would be excellent. He was obviously fiercely loyal and honest. Jaclyn said she was recruiting our key team here in Chapel Hill, where people were still decent. She kept warning me that once we went out into the music industry, I was to believe and trust nobody. She said the whole industry was overrun with charming, smiling slime balls who were out to rob you blind. I was to smile and sing and let her do all of the talking and negotiating. As she put it, she'd had her snake bite shots, and I hadn't.

One night I asked her, "Jaclyn, how much am I going to have to compromise?"

"How do you mean 'compromise'?"

"Well, I know that to be a star. you have to make deals and compromise yourself and your music. I promised someone once I wouldn't make decisions based on anything but my best interest. I guess it sounds naïve."

"You promised Darryl, you mean?"

"Yes"

"Well, Darryl's right. I don't plan for you to compromise one damn thing, unless you, with my advice, decide it's in your interest to do so."

"How can that be?"

"By not taking short cuts. That's the trap. We're going to own the whole thing. We already own the music. We're going to own the studio, the label, the distribution. What we don't own at first, we're going to contract ourselves through top independents. We're not taking any big label candy."

"Can we really do that?"

"Well, I'm banking on it. My whole reason to do what I've done with my life is believing that if the talent is good enough, you can bypass the worst of the system and come out on top."

"And you think I'm good enough?"

"That I am sure of."

Well, it sounded like a plan, and apparently, it was. We graduated and hit the ground running. I sang and wrote and smiled a lot. Jaclyn wheeled and dealed, talked and negotiated. I don't know much about what she did, except word got back that she was tough, and she was good. All I know is that I seemed to be getting more and better gigs. The crowds kept getting bigger, and the applause louder. Local TV shows became regional shows. Regional shows became national shows, at odd times of the day, like early in the morning. I was described as "the next big star." All the time, Jaclyn told me to keep working on my first album.

My debut album. It can make or break an artist. I remember talking to Jaclyn about it. She came in all smiles. "Ok, honey, get to work; I've got a green light. Courtney Archer is putting out her first album."

"When?"

"Soon as you say it's ready."

"Which songs?"

"Hell, why ask me? You're the one who wrote 'em."

"You're saying that I, a brand new artist, have complete artistic control? That's unheard of."

"No it's not; you just heard it from me."

"What about cover art?"

"What do you want?"

"Well, I do have an idea; how about me, like standing..."

"At a lake at sunrise, something like this," she said, holding up an artist's sketch.

"Yeah," I replied sheepishly, "Something just exactly like that. Oh, Jaclyn, am I that pathetically obvious?"

"Pathetically obviously still in love? Yes. Pathetically obviously in denial about it? Yes. But I'm a manager who doesn't get into those things. OK? Title?"

"Well, now I'm embarrassed to say."

"To say what, honey? That you want to call your first album 'Missing You' Oh, look at her face, folks, right again. Well, I suppose we couldn't really name an album 'Darryl, please write me, so I can find you' could we? But hell, with the name and the picture, he'd have to be a total idiot not get the message. Then I'm going to put an address on the liner notes, and have the producer set up a special screening operation on the mail. Any mail comes in that even looks like it's from him goes straight to your desk. It may take him a few weeks to get up his nerve, but I suspect we'll hear from him."

"You'd let me design the cover of my first CD as a love note to my old boyfriend?"

"Truthfully, I'd fight you if I thought it risked the success of the album, but the art staff actually love it as a design, so let's go with it."

So I went to work choosing the songs for the album. The picture had to be made at a different lake, but it did look a lot like it. It really did look good, and it matched the mood and feel of the songs very well. One day, about the time I finished my work on the album, Jaclyn dropped by my office. "You've got a problem."

"The problem is... ?"

"With projected album sales, you're going to make way too much money this year; the taxes will be brutal."

"I've had worse problems; besides, I thought we were going to use that money to buy more parts of the business, more freedom."

"Oh, Courtney Archer Inc. is going to do exactly that; no, you, Courtney Archer, personally have the problem."

"OK, what should I personally do?"

"The best way to get a quick, easy tax break is for you to buy a nice piece of real estate and build a big house on it. Besides, aren't you tired of living out of a suitcase? I know I am. You need a quiet place away from all this to write your music and recharge your batteries."

"It sounds fantastic, but I don't have the time to go house hunting?"

"Hey, that's what managers are for. You know when I took a couple days off? I didn't really. I went looking for some good investment property."

"How'd you do?"

"Not bad, took an option on a nice piece of waterfront property I thought you might like." She slid a picture across the desk, and there it was; the dock needed a little work, but otherwise, nothing had changed. I believe Jaclyn had more pictures, but I couldn't see. My eyes filled with tears, and I threw my arms around her neck and cried.

"I'll call and take the option, then," said Jaclyn, mostly to herself.

Missing You was released, and sales exceeded even our most optimistic estimates. Jaclyn was on the phone, trying to line up additional production. The evening news showed people camping out in front of record and CD stores. Tickets for future concerts suddenly disappeared. Jaclyn called Karl, and suddenly, I had security. Appearances on the Tonight Show and pretty much any other show I was willing to do kept my Mom calling daily. Mom always called to tell me what TV shows I had been on, as though I wouldn't know if she didn't call, but I loved it anyway... 

Awards on the Grammy's became, well, not routine, but not so surprising, then I swept the Grammies. It was awesome.,. Fan mail came in by the bag, and I got a selection each day to enjoy.

But the one letter I was looking for never came. I had Jaclyn personally check the screening operation, and she assured me it was foolproof. Either Darryl hadn't understood the message. Very unlikely. Or he wasn't interested. There it was; it had been a long time. I HAD told him to forget me and move on. I guess he had. I'd started seeing his work showing up in some very prestigious magazines. He was obviously becoming recognized as one of America's top photographers. Picture bylines don't carry useful information like married, five children, still carrying a torch, just "photo by Darryl Sanders." For a long time, my sky rocketing career kept me so busy I didn't have to face how miserable I was, but it couldn't last for ever. Jaclyn was right; I popped.

One day I just couldn't get out of bed. I just lay there. Jaclyn had the doctor summoned. He diagnosed acute depression. He ordered some medication and bed rest. Jaclyn took me back to the new lake house to rest. She essentially moved into my bedroom and never left my side. By the end of the week, I was doing better. I wasn't singing and dancing but at least I could sit up. Jaclyn asked me if I felt up to a very important meeting with her and Karl. I said I would try. She promised it would make me feel better in the long run. She got me a nice robe and propped me up in bed with a cup of tea. She got an extra chair and called Karl in.

"Courtney, I've tried to never go behind your back, but I thought this was an emergency. I want you to listen to what we have to say, and save your strength. After I'm done, if you think I acted anyway but in your best interest, you may fire me, but please, hear me out first."

"The doctors can call it what they will, but we three know what happened to you. I told you back in Chapel Hill if you didn't resolve this whole thing with Darryl, you were going to pop. You popped. You've been playing "he loves me, he loves me not for ten years. You haven't had a real sex life in ten years, hell, you've never had a real sex life." You've been locking every other guy out of your life for ten years. I'd pop, too. I don't have a right to butt into your personal life, and I haven't, well not much; this house is kinda marginal, I admit. But compared to the butting in I wanted to do, I have been a model of restraint. But this is different; your, mine, and Karl's career are based on a single asset, and when that asset can't get out of bed, I have a duty to act."

"First, I wanted to know where this Darryl guy really stood. I mean if he's turned gay or got six kids, then I think we can make a case that you're barking up the wrong tree. So I sent Karl to find him and make discreet inquires. Karl?"

"Well, finding him wasn't hard; he is a freelance photographer, so he has to be visible. I looked him up in a photo index, then did a general background by asking around, as if I were considering him for a job. This is obviously pretty standard in hiring freelance, so I quickly learned a great deal. He is universally held in very high regard, both professionally and personally. If there is anyone out there with anything bad to say about this guy, I didn't find them. He is single; he has never been married. He seems to casually escort ladies to events, but not much actual dating. Definitely heterosexual. I was able to interview an ex girl friend who was crazy about him. I asked her why she didn't pursue the relationship. She replied, and I quote ''With Darryl?, In my dreams. Somebody did a number on him, and even though he doesn't think he'll ever see her again, he can't let go. And trust me, a lot of women have been willing to help him forget. it's like he's haunted. It's a shame; a nice guy like that deserves better, ' close quotes. I shared a few beers with his best friend. Had to be more careful, but I confirmed he only casually dates, never seriously, and his friend doesn't think he goes in for much, if any sex. Described him as 'carrying a torch. I did find out he's a big fan of yours, although sometimes listening to you seems to make him sad. He may be looking for a new professional challenge in the next year or so.

"Thank you, Karl, an excellent job. Well, needless to say, I had a hard time figuring why the Darryl of this report would have failed to respond to our almost blatant invitation on Missing You, so I asked Karl to look into that also. Karl, if you please."

"I went and examined the operation, and like Jaclyn had indicated, it seemed pretty foolproof. With the emphasis Jaclyn had put on it, they had two people screening every piece of mail and a supervisor spot checking. The criteria for a match were very broad and the reward incentive generous enough to keep them alert. I didn't see how anything could have fallen through the cracks, and a few test pieces were immediately spotted. I then decided to check and make sure the net was in place early enough, and there I spotted a problem. The screen should have been in place right from the start, but a key supervisor was on vacation, and they had to hire temp personnel, so rather than someone thinking to just store the mail for a few days, until the system was in place, the first mail received was handled by the regular 'send-them-a-photo system, ' before the new system started. The real bitch is they don't even know how much got through, but taking mail room logs and some educated guesses I figure at least 1200 letters weren't screened, and no record of any kind was kept."

"Thanks again, Karl; I wish to hell I had sent you earlier. So Courtney, here's the bottom line, as I see it. It looks to me like Darryl is carrying the other end of the same torch you're carrying. He's had no more luck moving on than you have. And by the damnedest luck in the universe, when we came up with the supposedly foolproof scheme of using a hit album as a 'Darryl, Call Home' message some middle level manager fucks it up. So if our boy Darryl heard you that first day, found a record store where the album was in stock, saw the cover and immediately realized what it meant, went home and wrote you a note and dropped it by the post office, then he's moping around. wondering if you'll respond and he gets a stupid form letter and picture in the mail. And for all I know he's, laying in his bed right now unable to get up just like you. So now if you want to fire me, go right ahead."

I pulled myself up and hugged both of them." I can't fire you guys, you may have saved my life. And you're right, I can't go on like this. I may be scared, but I have to know the answer. I have to talk to him."

Jaclyn looked at me. "Talking to him is the easy part, but I think there has to me more, I think you need to fill in that night you missed. But Courtney, it's been ten years; you guys are going to need a lot more than a phone call or a dinner date to figure how much you've changed. Do you still fit? Do you still have a future together? That'll take serious time."

"Why do I think you have a plan?"

"Well, no offense, but we've seen what happens when we leave it up to the two of you. You ready to try my way?"

"Jaclyn, you're right; I don't see how you can screw it up any worse than I already did. Your way, it is"

And that evening Jaclyn spelled out a plan that would give Darryl and me prom night back, give us a replay, in hopes that we would get it right this time, plus the time to get reacquainted. This time I would be able to bring my Darryl world and my music world together and see if I had room for both, and even more important, if he had room for both. Sitting in my bedroom, it all sounded very good.

But if I had learned anything in ten year, it was that fate had a way of making a bad joke out of good plans.



-------

Chapter 5: A Night Relived - May 1995

The pain of parting is nothing to the joy of meeting again. 
Charles Dickens

May 1995

Johnny Andersen was just hanging out at the upscale apartment of his best friend Darryl Sanders. Johnny often worked as Darryl's assistant on larger photo shoots and did smaller jobs like weddings for a living. Johnny was a perfectly competent and dependable photographer. He just lacked the special talent and artistic ability that put Darryl at the top of the field. But that didn't keep them from being inseparable buds.

Johnny spotted the Coliseum ticket envelope. "I see you got a ticket for the Courtney Archer concert Friday, figured you would, despite all your waffling."

"I don't know, I still sometimes think it's dumb for me to go. It'll be hard to see her in the flesh and know that she might as well still be miles away. If I don't go, you want my ticket?"

"Only if you have two. Janie is really hot to go but the tickets are totally sold out. If she thought you had an extra ticket she'd drop me like a dirty sock and you'd be the new love of her life."

"Like I need a love of my life. Actually, I do have two tickets, at one point I was considering bringing a date, major bad idea! Let's do both of us a favor, let's not mention it to Janie."

Just then the door bell rang and Darryl answered it. It was a FedEx delivery which required his personal signature. The package itself was small and light.

"I wonder if this has to with the Cavanaugh job this weekend."

"You learn anything more about that job?"

"Not really, pack for three days, bring a camera, they'll pick me up, they'll supply everything else, outdoor fashion, but that's all I know."

"Isn't that odd?"

"A little, but some clients are really into secrecy, you'd be amazed what fashion houses will do to steal each other's line. And hey, they've prepaid three days full rate, check's already cleared the bank so they own this boy for three days. I have to leave right after the concert, bound for points unknown."

"Well maybe not unknown anymore, open your package."

Darryl tore open the FedEx package inside was a CD and an envelope. Darryl opened the envelope and read the note. He got a stunned look on his face and the note drifted out of his hand to settle on the table top. After a moment, he picked the note up again and reread it and then he just stared like he was a million miles away.

Johnny couldn't stand it any more. "Darryl, you OK man? You're weirding me out here."

Darryl just picked up the Coliseum tickets and handed them to Johnny "Go ahead and call Janie, I won't need these." Then he took the CD from the case and headed for the living room as though Johnny were no longer there.

Johnny figured he could call Janie later, he had to see what had been delivered in that package. He picked up the envelope, inside was a tasteful note card embossed with the name Courtney Archer, on it was hand written "Please come, I want to see you, I miss you terribly, Courtney."

The envelope also contained a VIP Pass, signed by Courtney, her business manager and her chief of security. He picked up the CD case, it looked just like a regular commercial CD that you might buy in any store except he was dating a Courtney fan and he was sure there was no such album. The picture on the front looked a lot like Missing You except it was a slightly different lake and there was no one in the picture. The title was Song of Thanks and the only song listed had the same name. He could hear the song playing on the stereo. It was lovely, and it was definitely her voice but he was sure he had never heard it before. Johnny remembered that he had a friend on the music faculty at the University who was a huge Courtney fan and had actually written a paper about the poetry in her lyrics. He picked up the phone. "Bob it's Johnny, listen a friend of mine... 

Yeah it's Darryl but it's not like I don't have other friends... 

Well Janie's a girl. Anyway listen he just got a Courtney Archer CD called Song of Thanks... 

Bob, I know there's no such CD, would I call you if it was a CD you could get at Wal-Mart? Anyway it's got cover art, liner notes, everything, but only one song... 

The song has the same name as the album, Song of Thanks... 

Yes, I've never heard of it either but it's on the stereo now, I'll hold the phone up and let you hear a few bars"

"You've given me wings

And special things, 

That's what your love brings, 

Thanks to you."... 

"Oh yea, I agree, it's her alright... 

Where did he get it? That's the coolest part. She sent it to him... 

I know because it came with a card on her embossed stationery in her hand... 

No, I'm not going to read it to you, it's personal... 

They used to be sweethearts going back to eight years old, but Bob, you ever leak that to the press and our friendship's over... 

I know you've never screwed me over but this stuff would be worth money, speaking of which, hypothetically speaking what might an unpublished Courtney song be worth... 

No shit! as much as $50,000 maybe more? Hey Thanks Bob, I owe you."

Johnny hung up the phone and ran into the living room. "Hey Darryl, I got this professor friend in music at the University, he says that little CD you're playing may be worth over 50 grand, you belie..." Johnny realized he might as well be shouting at the refrigerator. Darryl was sitting perfectly still, mesmerized by the voice coming from the stereo. His eyes were focused somewhere well outside the four walls of the room. A slow but steady flow of tears welled up in each eye and dripped unheeded to his cheek, where they formed a tiny creek that was moistening his shirt. Johnny whispered, "Darryl, I don't know where you are but you're not here." then he quietly left and went to tell Janie the good news.

The Concert

Darryl rode with Johnny and Janie to the concert. It was Janie's idea. Darryl suspected that she hoped some of the VIP pass status would rub off on anyone accompanying the holder. Unfortunately, she was sorely disappointed because while the pass certainly rolled out the red carpet for Darryl, it apparently had no coattails on which anyone could ride. As soon as he identified himself, he was whisked away to a reception area where he was given a seat and offered a glass of wine. Within a few minutes, a friendly, distinctly Germanic looking young man walked up with an athletic stride.

"Mr. Sanders, it is a great pleasure to meet you, I'm Karl Jager, Courtney's chief of security and a personal friend. I'll be responsible for escorting you around. I have this note for you.

He handed Darryl a note on the same stationary as had come with the CD. In Courtney's neat hand it said, "Darryl, Thank you so much for coming. Please go with Karl, he has made all the arrangements. Indulge me by not asking too many questions. I have a few surprises planned. I can't wait to see you. Courtney."

"I'm a little confused, all this talk about arrangements. I thought I'd just be meeting Courtney backstage after the concert."

Karl laughed. "Have you ever been backstage?" It's the Keystone Cops go to the zoo, I don't even like to go there. And have you ever seen a singer after a two hour live show? They're a rag doll with PMS, even a sweetheart like Courtney. Is this how you should have a reunion ten years overdue? I don't think so. No, I'll run you home after the concert to grab a suitcase and..."

"Oh God I am cursed," cried Darryl. "I would love to go with you. It sounds wonderful. You don't know how wonderful. But I can't go. I've already accepted a freelance assignment."

"Karl laughed and put a reassuring arm around his shoulder. " Ah yes, the somewhat mysterious Cavanaugh job. Well, that was our next stop anyway. Come on, I'll introduce you to your assignment."

Darryl was escorted into the main hall through an entrance behind the stage. Darryl was fascinated by the legion of technicians scrambling around adjusting and testing, lights, sound and video. He was beginning to get some idea how different this was from the young girl sitting on a dock with a guitar singing to him. And yet somewhere at the heart of it all, this legion of worker ants were depending on that same set of vocal cords.

Karl brought him around to the VIP seats directly in front of the stage. Even the seats here were of far better quality than the general seating. An attractive and extremely sharp looking lady rose and extended her hand. "Hello Darryl Sanders, at last, I'm Jaclyn Cavanaugh, Courtney's manager, confidante and best friend. And if I am not mistaken, I own you for the next three days. I rather like that, I'm not sure I've ever owned a man before, but Courtney's undoubtedly going to want to borrow you."

It was said with charming good humor but Darryl sized her up immediately as an extremely shrewd and aggressive businesswoman. He would not like to be actually be owned by her. But he was beginning to understand Courtney's unprecedented rapid climb through the competitive music world. "So the assignment is a sham, just a ploy to get me and Courtney together, not that I mind. I've waited ten years."

"Oh no Darryl, I hope you don't mind if I call you Darryl. I've lived with Courtney a long time now and it would be impossible for me to call you anything else."

"Please, it's Darryl, I insist."

"Then Jaclyn please, but where was I, No it is not a sham. As Courtney's friend I had to make sure your time was free long enough so that if things work out like we all hope, you guys can have some time together. I'm sure you thought you would meet backstage? Yes? Well that proves you've never been there. Otherwise you would realize that there couldn't be a worse environment in which to try to pick up the string of a relationship broken a decade ago. But I'm also her business manager and I expect to talk and conduct some business with you as well. See, I'm not just her pimp. So be sure to bring your camera with you."

"Any clue about the nature of the business."

"Oh yes Darryl, you'll find I am quite clear about what I expect from any business relationship. We'll talk tonight and later. But now it's time for the concert. People find it surprising, but I'm her biggest fan. I'm right here every concert and everyone knows not to disturb me unless it's a real emergency. I'm here like you, to enjoy the music."

Darryl was right, seeing her live a few feet away was very different from seeing her on a glowing electronic box. Now little mannerisms and familiar gestures breathed life back into her image and increased his longing. And all of the electronics failed to remove the magic from her voice that entered your heart and made it hers. He realized that his original idea of coming to the concert to say goodbye would have been as hopelessly doomed as every other attempt to separate her from his life.

On the last song before intermission, Jaclyn leaned over. "Sit up straight and smile, this is for you."

Daryll had no idea what she was talking about but he followed her directions. A few seconds later he saw it, a change in lighting. Most of the audience probably never noticed since the color and pattern of lights were choreographed with the music and were constantly changing. But part of Darryl's fame was based on his mastery of lighting. To his expert eye this one change stuck out as a manual shift outside of the normal flow. The footlights, the lights from below the stage whose glare normally make it impossible for performers to make out faces in the audience, suddenly dimmed out. They dimmed out precisely at a time when the house levels, the lights on the audience, were relatively high. He saw Courtney's eyes searching and immediately locking on his. The corners of her mouth curled in a slight, almost imperceptible smile and ten years of loneliness and a lifetime of hope passed between two sets of eyes in the few seconds before the lights came back up.

Darryl sat there feeling drained. Jaclyn next to him breathed a sigh of relief.

At intermission Darryl looked at Jaclyn. "You want to explain that huge sigh of relief back there?"

"Well, we know she's a trooper now, I hardly heard it in her voice at all."

"Heard what?"

"Darryl, I'm a woman, and her closest friend. Do you think I don't know the look that went between your eyes and hers in those few seconds and what it was doing to her. It's the biggest chance I've ever let her take with her career. And I don't like taking chances."

"What chance? What could have happened?"

"Well, let's see, I called a secret staff meeting when she first asked for this. Opinions included, burst out crying, run off stage into your arms, faint, stop in middle of the song; trust me when I say I was in a minority when I said she'd sing through it like the pro she is. And I was sounding more confident than I felt."

"Why'd you OK it then?"

"Because she was demanding this or recognizing you publicly from the stage by name."

"Would that be so bad?"

"For her no, not so bad. For you it would mean waking up tomorrow with 150 paparazzi parked on your lawn, photographing you taking a dump in the morning from helicopters. Interviewing every girl you ever dated. Sound appealing?"

"God no! But wait, why not so bad for her?"

"You are so deliciously innocent. She already has an army of paparazzi following her around. That's why she has Karl and his crew to give her a life and to protect that life from the nut cases."

"Hadn't you better get Karl to check me out?"

"He already has, thoroughly, you're OK or you wouldn't be here."

"Thank you and Karl very much."

"Look, if that was meant sarcastically, I make no apology."

"Jaclyn, I want no apology, I'll admit that I'm a little surprised and maybe even a little annoyed to find that you've investigated me but on the other hand, I'm glad she has good people to take care of her."

As long as you think we are doing our jobs, I'm going to ask for your help. You will make our jobs a lot easier and life a little better for Courtney if you are willing to miss the second half and head out now. She said to tell you she will personally sing you every song you miss."

"Then how can I refuse, let's go. I do need to tell my ride."

"Karl has already warned Johnny and Janie. Some nice autographed CDs inscribed 'to my friend Janie' seem to have brightened her evening."

"I'll bet they did."

Mysterious Journey

Karl whisked us out the side to a waiting car with heavily tinted windows. Fifty yards away I saw a limousine surrounded by photographers. Karl winked. We ran by my apartment. I noted I did not have to give directions. Since I was already packed it was a minute's stop and we were heading for the executive terminal at the airport. As we traveled Jaclyn pitched a proposition to me.

"Darryl, I have two goals in mind again. As Courtney's friend I want to help give you guys time to pick up the pieces, or decide if you want to. It's been ten years, that's not going to be a weekend job."

"I have to agree, I'm worried about that."

"Now switching to my business manager's hat, I have a problem. Courtney needs a full time personal photographer. It's got to be someone she trusts. It's got to be someone I trust. And given where she is right now, it's got to be someone well known and very good. I can pay top dollar and give you time to take enough other work to keep your name out there. I want a one year contract. We mutually negotiate at the end of the year. And it gives you two a year to sniff each others hineys or whatever one does after ten years."

"Jaclyn, I'm flattered but this is not my specialty. There are guys who do nothing but musical stars who would murder their grandmother for this job and at half my price."

"And the trouble is those hacks have been grinding out the same old formulaic crap and everybody's seen it. Look Darryl, I'm sure you've read enough to know we've made it this far by NOT doing it the same old way. I'm not looking for someone who can spit out what's in the stores today, I want shit that will turn the industry upside down."

"It's getting more interesting but the real issue is who's calling the shots. Who's got artistic control?"

"Well you realize you do have to work with Courtney, they are her songs, she wrote them, she sings them, she's got to have veto rights on what they're wrapped in?"

"Agreed but other than that, who designs and chooses the photos."

"You haven't been listening Darryl, I expect Y-O-U to stand the industry on it's tired old head. I don't see how I can expect Y-O-U to revolutionize a genre unless Y-O-U have artistic control. You design the shots, you take the shots, you choose the shots, I pay the bills."

"Who's the art director?"

"Easy, you can be art director, I'll get a canvas chair and stencil art director on it, but no more money."

"Jaclyn, this is crazy, no one gives the photographer artistic control."

"Why not, how often have lesser men in those positions just diluted your vision. I believe in getting the best talent available then get the hell out of their way. If you don't believe that's the way I work. When you see her, ask Courtney who chooses the songs for her albums."

"I will, speaking of which, when will I see her?"

The car had pulled up alongside a sleek unmarked executive jet. Karl came around and opened the door. Jaclyn leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

"Soon Darryl, now aboard the plane will be one of Karl's assistants; he is under strict instructions to keep you in the dark about where you are and the schedule. Just play along, Courtney has earned a little fun, please don't spoil it for her. Now hurry on."

As Darryl walked to the plane's steps he watched the car do a quick turn and head back towards town. Another husky Germanic type grabbed his bags and took them aboard. Darryl noticed he left the camera bags for him, the sign of a pro. Professionals in any field know that other pros will prefer to handle their own gear. He grabbed his and climbed aboard. After the routine of bag stowage and seat belts, the plane started rolling immediately. The new attendant leaned forward. "Evening Mr. Sanders, I'm Kurt Janson, Karl's assistant. I'll be your completely uninformative tour guide for the rest of your journey."

"Please, call me Darryl, and are all of you ah..."

"Does Courtney have a private Gestapo? No, actually Karl and I are the only krauts, we grew up together in a Milwaukee neighborhood."

"And you won't give me a hint where we are going?"

"Of Courz, bu zenn I vill haft to keel yu."

"Jesus, that was an awful German accent, are you sure you're really German?"

"Yeah, but my family's been here since 1780 something, I learned my German watching Hogan's Heroes. Seriously, I have orders to answer no questions as to who what when or where. I am to assure you that this is Courtney's personal wish. Then she took me aside and said that if you were totally freaking out I could tell we're going but first I was to explain that she was afraid that to do so might cause her to have prom night syndrome. Then to ask you again if you needed to know where we are?"

"Kurt, if you even try to tell me I promise I will rip your vocal cords out with my bare hands and tie them around my ears like ear muffs."

Kurt laughed. "She told me you would say something pretty much like that. Rough prom night huh?"

"I'm still trying to get over it." Taking advantage of a trick he had learned on assignment, when there's nothing to do, store up energy. He put his seat back and was asleep in minutes, his dreams less troubled than they had been in years.

Kurt woke him to transfer to a limo with blacked out windows for another twenty minutes drive. When the limo stopped, he stepped directly from the car into the foyer of what appeared to be a grand estate house. The butler greeted him and escorted him to his room. It was actually a suite. The master bedroom had a king-size bed and a curtained wall at the opposite end. The sitting room had a home theater and an intimate dining area. The master bath had a garden size Jacuzzi. The butler asked if he required anything from the kitchen, there being a completely stocked minibar and refrigerator. Darryl declined and the butler excused himself.

Kurt announced, "There are a few rules here. The phone only connects to the kitchen. The TV and radio are disconnected tonight. Nice night to read or sleep. Do not open or peek through any blinds. I'll be outside your room all night in case you need anything or are inclined to sleepwalk. Do I need to go through that prom thing again?"

"No Kurt, this boy's taking a hot shower and turning in. You don't even need to sit outside my door. Wild horse couldn't drag me out of here if it meant jeopardizing my reunion with Courtney."

"Oh I believe you, but I'll be there anyway, too afraid of the boss to not follow orders."

"Yeah, Karl looks pretty tough."

"Karl? Karl's a pussy cat, Jaclyn's the one that scares me."

As good as his word Darryl took a nice long leisurely shower and went to bed. He had packed some pajama bottoms because you could never be sure of sleeping arrangements when on travel. But since he had this whole grand suite to himself he chose his favorite sleepwear, nothing. For awhile, Darryl lay in bed thinking about how strange it was really to allow himself to be flown to God knows where, by people he didn't know, in response to a note from someone he hadn't seen in ten years. But he had committed, and there was no turning back now. Somehow he didn't really feel uneasy. Working in some of the danger zones on assignments that his freelance work had taken him into had taught him that when you had no control over the situation, then there was no use worrying about it. Having decided that he lay back instead and dreamed about what he hoped might happen. And with the vision of her in his arms, he was soon sound asleep.

The Second Chance

Something woke Darryl, he wasn't sure if it was a sound, or a movement. He lay there, in that warm glow you feel when you've had a good night's sleep, but could go back to sleep if you wished. It felt like it was possibly very early morning. Yes, there it was, the drapes at the end of the room were opening. The mechanism was so slow and smooth he might have missed it had he not been looking right at it. At least he would find out where he was, or he would as soon as the sun came up a little more. From what he could see so far it was still too black outside to make out any details. But there was something else, a presence, like some one else in the room. Probably Kurt checking on him.

It wasn't Kurt. He never saw her approaching, she just appeared. After ten long desperate years the achingly familiar figure of Courtney stood silently beside the bed. In the thousand times he had dreamed of this moment, he had always had some thing romantic and clever to say. When the moment finally came, he lost the power of speech entirely. Courtney was equally silent. Too much talking was what ruined that night a decade ago. Tonight was reserved for the needs of the heart.

She untied the bow at the neck of her silk robe and let it slide off her shoulders. She was nude underneath. She stood there a moment to gauge his reaction. She felt good about how she looked, working out with a private trainer and practicing yoga regularly. Still, no one has the body of an eighteen year old except another eighteen year old. Apparently it didn't matter, it was easy to read the excitement and longing in Darryl's eyes. She raised the sheet and climbed in beside him, into his arms. They embraced and shared a shared a somewhat uncertain, but heartfelt kiss. Followed quickly by one that had shed much of the doubts, but none of the longings of the last ten years. It would be absurd to suggest that a single kiss could contain enough love and passion to bridge a decade and rejoin lovers so long apart, but it went a long way.

She broke the silence. "Darryl, do you remember the night of my prom?"

"Of course, I remember everything about that night."

"Do you remember when it was?"

"Ten years ago this month."

"Ten years ago this night!"

"Wow, what a coincidence that the concert... 

... that wasn't a coincidence at all, was it? But how? But why?"

"No, no coincidence, Darryl. It's one of the benes of having four songs in the top twenty, coliseum managers don't say no. Why? that's a little harder." And you remember where?"

"Of course, the lake house." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew what he was going to see through that window. He turned and looked, the first rosy hues of the dawn sky were filling in the outline of the lake like a painter's brush. It wasn't just a similar lake, like on the CD cover, it was definitely "their" lake. His eyes misted. "But I thought the lake house was gone."

"It is Darryl, like the Kedricks," she said gently, "time takes things away that we can't get back. Like the last ten years without you. I built this house on the same site. According to the architects we are within ten feet of where we were that night."

"Courtney, you've gone to an awful lot of trouble and I love it all, but you know I would have been happy to be with you any time, anywhere."

"I know. But Darryl, my career has been very good to me. I have made money that I have had no time and no desire to spend. The one thing I have wanted desperately for ten years was a chance to redo that night with you. Now I'm not a child, I know that I can never do that. Being here on the tenth anniversary does not undo ten years of time, but think it will help me ease ten years of pain."

"I think I understand."

"I don't want to do a lot of talking right now, we have much to talk about, but later."

"I think that's best"

"I do have to ask you one question. Do you still care about me enough to want to give our love another chance?"

"Yes Courtney, I do, more than anything. I do not need to ask you that question. I knew the answer when I saw you standing by the bed."

"Then I want you to ask me one more question. After the prom, you asked me a question, without using words, that men have been asking women, every night, in every land, in every time as long as humans have been here. No man ever had better right to ask and yet I gave the wrong answer and have wished I could take it back ever since. It is the single greatest regret of my life. Give me a second chance Darryl, Please. Ask me again."

And suddenly he understood the reason behind the elaborate, almost theatrical, staging of this evening. She needed to, at least in her mind, correct a mistake that had haunted her for a decade. He pulled her to where he could look directly into her eyes. "Courtney, will you make love with me tonight?"

"Yes Darryl, I will, I will," She replied with a hint of a tear in her voice. And the time for talking had ended.

Most couples reunited after a decade apart would have relearn each other's techniques and preferences due to changes that had evolved through their other relationships. Courtney and Darryl had so few partners and such inconsequential relationships that beyond maturing a bit, they had not changed at all. Their roadmaps of each other were as reliable as if they had been apart ten days instead of years.

Their bodies flowed together as seamlessly as colored sand poured into a bottle. They bathed in a luxurious bath of once familiar, but long missed sensations: tactile skin to skin contact, scents, the feel of your lover's warm breath on your neck, the softness of her hair. Their lips joined again and soon they were breathing as one as tongue danced with tongue, and lips caressed lips. He cradled her head in two hands as his lips fluttered gently as a butterfly across her face to her eyes and ears and throat. He even stopped to just bury his face in her hair so he could inhale that special fragrance only a woman's hair has.

His lips weaved a trail like a happy drunk down her shoulders and across her upper chest. The happy drunk's ultimate destination was a poorly kept secret, especially since they comprised the highest points around with each marked by a distinctive pink summit which stuck out an additional 2/3 inch to mark the spot. And still our meandering friend was able to create a surprising amount of tension by pretending to wander on by, or around or anywhere but where she wanted him to go. This little game of hot/cold was directed by hisses, and gasps, and groans depending on how close the lips were to the nerve rich areola and nipple. And when she had been teased enough she entangled her fingers in his hair and gently but firmly directed his mouth to her nipple, to exactly where it had wanted to be all along.

The nipple, that handy little nerve central with direct connections to the brain and to the pussy. That little bump that unleashes in women feelings both maternal and sexual and in men feelings both infantile and Neanderthal. Time spent at a woman's nipple is possibly rewarded in heaven, and it is absolutely rewarded in the bedroom.

Darryl took each nipple in turn. He captured it and teased it with his lips. He then massaged and flipped it with his tongue and he nipped and pulled at it with his teeth. After just a few minutes he noticed her breathing had gotten heavier and her nipples rigid. He then began suckling like an infant. One breast, then the other, then back, over and over. He continued until he saw her eyes shut and her head loll back. Then finally her breath became a chain of shallow gasps. Now Darryl had reached the moment of truth, all he had to do was reach his hand between her legs and touch her. If she was dry, then it was prom night all over again. If she were wet, then things were as they should be. He was almost afraid to know the answer but Courtney was one step ahead. She took his hand in hers and placed it between her legs. She was literally drenched, it was already getting the sheets wet.

She whispered in his ear. "Just so you'd know I was telling the truth this time. Please Darryl, no more foreplay. I had three years of foreplay before that night and ten years since. All I want now, for God's sake, is you inside me at last. MAKE LOVE TO ME DARRYL, PLEASE!

Darryl frankly felt the same way, his erection was so hard, so demanding, it was almost painful. No more foreplay no fancy positions, it was time to get him into her in the quickest manner humanly possible. She opened her legs as wide as she could and he got between her legs and pointed in the general direction. Courtney without the least ceremony grabbed his cock, rubbed it once, twice through her slit for good lubrication and then plugged him in as casually and as firmly as she would plug in a lamp.

Darryl with one firm thrust pushed himself all the way in until they lay pelvis to pelvis. And then it seemed to hit them both what they had just done and how they were connected. Physically, Darryl realized how incredibly tight she was, she was warm and moist and every ridge and contour of her tunnel hugged him. Emotionally, he was buried to the hilt inside the object of his love, his lust, his dreams, for him there had never really been another.

Courtney for the first time in her life felt completed as a woman. She felt filled and connected and triumphant, knowing that she'd come from those darkest days when she was about to take a job in a topless bar to sharing her music with the world and finally making love to Darryl. And she was erasing that horrible mistake on Prom night that had haunted her life.

Darryl started to withdraw and she cried out at the loss. She threw her legs around him but of course he was already returning. He felt every nuance of her body so perfect was the fit, and the sensations threatened to overload him. He also realized that he felt almost lost, awkward, exploring. These were feelings he had not had since the 9th grade when they had together explored each other's bodies and emerging sexuality. It was exciting to again be exploring new territories with the love of his life.

Courtney was feeling the same, glad to be with Darryl again who would want to learn her responses and needs. Those few lovers she had tried never took time to learn her, but just pulled out their little program of what had worked on others. What she felt with them was a mere shadow of what she was feeling now. Like a great wine mixed half and half with club soda, you would have an idea about the basic taste but nothing about the experience. For a woman, great sex has to involve the brain and the heart as well as the body and Courtney was making love for the first time with a man she had loved and had memories with since she was eight. For the first time, she was with the man who could stimulate all three for her. It was a powerful mix and she was rapidly approaching her first intercourse driven orgasm.

Darryl was luckier. Men find it far easier to leave the heart and mind out of sex and often do. It's a safe bet that a guy who has just spent the better part of a weeks pay on an evening that ends with a hand job in a dark cubicle of a titty bar has required no input from his heart and has definitely given the brain the night off. But a few lucky men will actually learn to have sex with their brain and heart fully engaged and elevate it from merely outstanding to truly mind altering. Darryl had waited so long for this moment that he had no choice. Every molecule of his being was involved and he was finding the experience surreal.

The universe was shrinking to the lake, to them, to their love, and to the incredible feeling of his hard manhood plunging into her soft welcoming womanhood. Every stroke reached deeper and touched more of their being.

They never broke eye contact, as though afraid the other might disappear or maybe to remind themselves that this was really happening. They didn't say a word except to silently mouth, "I love you" then their mouths were given over to their ragged breathing and the involuntary vocabulary of love, the sighs, the groans, the gasps.

The intensity of sensation was overwhelming them both. Darryl was having trouble accepting that anything could feel this good. But Courtney had the first orgasm. It started as waves that seemed to following the crown of his cock as it drove into her opening, waves that just kept going as tremors swept through her whole groin and abdomen. This seemed to leave all of her nerves exposed and demanding attention as now every thrust caused a surge of muscular reaction to following it. She felt the small swells quickly adding up as though building pressure. "Ahhhhhh My God My God It feels so good!"

Her whole body spasmed so violently for several seconds, that Darryl was unsure if he should continue. But Courtney answered that question when she wrapped her legs around him and started thrusting her pelvis at him. The last thing she wanted to do was stop. She had entered a new world of sensations. Like many women, Courtney had read the ongoing debate about clitoral versus vaginal orgasms or did vaginal orgasms exist. Since none of her few tries at sexual intercourse had resulted in any orgasm, and her masturbation was limited to clitoral stimulation, clitoral orgasms were all she had known. This was obviously a vaginal one and she like it, a lot. Which was good because she immediately had another one, clampling down hard on the sweet intruder bringing her this unbelievable pleasure.

Darryl was finding that staying in Courtney while she was having these violent and noisy orgasms was a little like riding an electric bull, challenging but oh so worthwhile. But the spasms in her vaginal muscles were massaging his cock in a way that was bringing him closer to the edge too. In fact, only sheer will power had kept him going this long. Working around beautiful nude and semi-nude models all day, especially since they loved to tease photographers, had taught a little mental discipline, but Darryl's was all used up, so he just increased the speed and power and Courtney matched him stroke for stroke.

It was noisy, almost violent and definitely fucking rather than tender love making. There was ten year worth of stored need trying to explode out all at the same time. How could it being any other way? Finally they both climaxed in one huge finale of exultant celebration with both of them bellowing just to vent their excess feelings. They collapsed in each others arms and looked to the lake. Sunrise was past but the tendrils of early morning mist rising off the lake had their own beauty. Courtney mused, "Do you suppose those could be old spirits we've exorcised this morning." She leaned over to nuzzle his neck. "I know one thing, if I'd had any idea it felt this good you would never have had to be so understanding that night."

"And if I had any idea that it felt this good, I wouldn't have been understanding. You've have never gotten out of that room unfucked."

An intercom chimed gently. Courtney pushed the button. "Yes."

"Hey Boss," said the familiar voice of Jaclyn, "If you guys are on break. (laughter in background) We thought you could use a hot breakfast."

Courtney looked at Darryl who nodded. "Yes Jaclyn, that would be nice, bring it on down." She retrieved two spa robes from the bathroom. A few minutes later there was a knock on the door and Courtney admitted a smiling Jaclyn pushing a large, heavily laden breakfast cart. "Didn't know what you'd like so we just put on everything."

"Sounds about right to me," said Darryl, I'm starved.

"Oh and a present for you from me, open it in private." Jaclyn winked as she handed a large white box to Courtney then started to leave.

"Wait, Jaclyn, I'm almost used to your sixth sense by now but how did you know Darryl and I were 'on break' just when you called?"

Jaclyn rolled her eyes to the heavens. "You had to ask didn't you? OK, well Honey, I hate to break it to you but you guys are the loudest lovers ever. The whole staff is listening to you both like a baseball game on the radio. After that last bellow we decided you were either done for a while or dead."

Courtney blushed. "How will I ever be able to face them."

"Don't be silly. These are your friends and they know your history. Anybody who goes through a ten year 'Coitus interruptus' is entitled to bellow just as loud as they want, and frankly honey, they're cheering for you. Not to mention that one or two couples seem to have found you inspirational and have snuck off to make a little noise of their own. So you guys just go ahead and make as much ruckus as you like but don't forget we do expect you both at dinner."

They both tore into the breakfast cart with shameless abandon. Besides the calories they had just expended, Darryl in the excitement of yesterday hadn't eaten since noon, and Courtney was always ravenous the morning after a live performance. As they were sipping coffee for him, tea for her, Darryl took her hand. "Do you know what I'd like to do?"

"No but I hope it's a lot like what we just did."

"It is, but maybe better. I'd like to get you in that nice Jacuzzi tub and bathe you all over by hand, then massage you until you're so relaxed you're like jelly, then make slow beautiful love to you until neither of us can move."

"Ohhhh, it sounds yummy, I accept, just the thing to get over the effects of a live show. But I want to go on record that there wasn't a damn thing wrong with the first time. I'll buzz and have the maid bring my lotions and shampoos down from my room."

"Your room? I thought I heard the butler refer to this as the master bed room, if it's not yours, who's is it?"

"It has never been anyone's before Darryl, I always hoped it might be our room."

Darryl turned away to try to hide the moisture in his eyes, but she saw. He prepared the whirlpool bath, choosing a European bath tea of Alpine wild flowers with soap and oil to match. He remembered Courtney had always preferred the fresher subtler scent of wildflowers to the more cloying rose, gardenia or lilac. He lit candles all around and summoned her to the bath room, removing her robe and helping her into the tub. Darryl had the whirlpool running just enough to give the water a nice rolling effect like a swift mountain river but without audible pump or air-jet noise. He climbed in behind her and using the matching wild flower shampoo he began to gently wash her hair taking extra time to massage her scalp. She practically purred.

With an exfoliating brush in one and and a soft mitt on the other he started to wash her back with the combination of the vigorous scrub and rinse followed by the gentle mitt. Invigorate then soothe. As soon as he finished her back she leaned into him inviting him to now take on the even more pleasant process of cleaning her front. I'd like to tell you that Darryl spent no more time and attention on her breasts than on say, her left elbow. But you wouldn't believe me, and you'd of course be right not to believe me. Let's just say he spent enough time to reassure Courtney that age had not taken away any her attractiveness, and still keep the bath moving along. The greatest danger came when she stood bringing all her feminine mysteries directly to his eye level but he did a surprisingly good but detailed job of gently washing her there as well. He helped her from the tub and rubbed her down all over with a gloriously plush spa towel leaving her entire body tingling,. then patiently and correctly combed the tangles from her hair starting from the ends.

Darryl put an extra sheet, folded it in half on the bed so he could massage her with lotion. In college, a roommate's girlfriend had taught him massage although he hadn't used it often. He did a complete one now from her feet to her shoulders rubbing away tension and soreness while rubbing in softness and relaxation. Even when Courtney opened her legs in obvious invitation, Darryl declined to turn the massage into direct foreplay preferring to keep it as a mood setting and relaxation preliminary.

She looked at him tenderly. "Darryl, that was incredible, if I could purr I would. I've never felt so incredible. Grrrrrrrrrr. Or so incredibly horny. I hope you are interested."

"I seduce fairly easily, if you'd like to give it a try."

"I accept the challenge, you just lay right here on the bed and I'll be right back."

He noticed she picked up her gift box from Jaclyn as she headed to the bathroom. He couldn't imagine what it would be, some sort of gown no doubt. It didn't matter, it would look great, he would say so, then five minutes later it would be lying on the floor forgotten. He was staring out the window when he heard almost a giggly, little girl voice from the bathroom. "Close your eyes Darryl, no peeking until I tell you."

Darryl was intrigued, this sounded interesting, and he did as he was told. He felt her weight on the bed. She crawled up until she was straddling his legs just above his knees. "OK Darryl, you can open your eyes."

He did and he was looking at a kneeling Courtney wearing a slightly off-white bustier, white stockings held up by garters, and a transparently sheer pair of white bikini panties. It was identical to what she'd worn beneath her prom dress. If there was a difference, it was that her more mature breasts filled the bustier even more enticingly and her face showed none of the uncertainty it had ten years before. As she bent down to give him full benefit of her décolletage, Darryl went straight to full erection so quickly that he might have hurt Courtney if she hadn't wisely opted to sit just out of harm's way.

As it was, she was still impressed. "Damn Darryl, that's incredible. Still works just like flipping a switch. I'll have to thank Jaclyn for thinking of this. I'll bet after you're dead and buried if anyone walks past your grave with one of these outfits on, the ground will tremble."

"Ha ha, I'm not laughing. I've got such a hard on that I don't think I can close my eyes."

"Sorry honey, let me help you with that problem since I caused it." She leaned forward kissed the tip, then took him in her mouth. Her tongue lavished attention around the crown, while one hand stroked the base of his cock and the other gently fondled his balls. Leaning forward also gave him an excellent view of her beautiful cradled enticingly in the cups of the bustier. Why is it that lingerie can be so much sexier than the naked body. Conventional wisdom is that something hidden or partially hidden allows the imagination to work but when she leaned forward no imagination was needed, yet somehow it was driving him mad with desire. He had to lift up his hands to caress what he was seeing.

The warm softness of her mouth and the teasing of her tongue were rapidly bringing him to the edge. She felt his hands on her head, which she remembered as a sign, although Darryl, by nature, never used his hands to force her to take him deeper.

"Courtney, I'm going to cum." She appreciated his thoughtfulness as unnecessary as it was. She had felt the tension in his scrotum and heard the changes in his breathing. His ejaculation came as no surprise and while she didn't crave the taste, it was a small price for the pleasure it brought him, and the thought of taking his essence into her body again made her feel complete.

"Feel better tiger?" she asked affectionately.

"God yes, but that outfit drives me mad."

"Should I take it off?"

"No, I'd like to do something else, something new, to me anyway."

"Oh Darryl, I like new, what, tell me what?"

"I want to untie those ties on your panties and then I want you to straddle me so that I can eat you with those stockings and the bustier on."

"I love it, you'd better start untying and eating quickly, because I'm getting wetter just thinking about it"

She came up to where she could straddle his head, surrounding it with her legs so he would feel the slinky smooth nylon. Looking up all he he could see was sheer panties now with a rapidly spreading wet spot making them even more transparent. He untied the two ties and removed the bikinis, now gazing right up at her much engorged and very wet pussy. He placed his hands on her hips and directed her as she lowered herself to his waiting mouth. This was new to both of them as they had never used this position before. Darryl liked it, he had always liked her scent and her taste and now he could lose himself in her essence.

The only problem was what to do with the nose and although several creative solutions suggested themselves, the necessity of breathing made them impractical. The best solution was to have her face him so his tongue was strategically positioned at the clit and his nose nestled in her pubic hair allowing him to breath. He had a beautiful view up the bustier and could caress her nylon clad legs on either side of his head. Or reach a little higher and cup her shapely ass. The position had almost limitless possibilities and it seemed they had only begun to explore them when her first orgasm hit. Darryl only increased the intensity of his stimulation of her clitoris and he reached in with his hands and started fondling her labia. Once his fingers were well lubricated he started teasing her anal rosebud with one and as soon as he felt the muscle relax he slipped the finger tip in. This new sensation was just enough to push Courtney over the edge into a full blown climax that felt to her as though it would never stop.

She recovered gradually in his arms, their mouths reaching hungrily for each other. But now the storm had passed. The frantic urgent needs were, for the moment sated and they both were ready to experience intercourse on a quieter gentler level. Darryl lay on his back, Courtney straddling him, watching as she lined him up and slowly sank down on him. She sat still for a moment so they could savor the sensations, then with their eyes locked and holding hands they made unhurried sweet love.

It was less intense and certainly less noisy but no less satisfying, as was their lovemaking the rest of this special day. It was the wonderful day when two natural soul mates got to relive a day they had been denied by cruel fate. They undoubtedly experienced, if belatedly, all of the love and pleasures of the flesh that the day could ever have held, but the underlying problems of combining two lives that had jeopardized their happiness ten years ago had become even more complicated today. Courtney's music world had become all consuming as her Darryl world had atrophied away, except in her heart. Darryl too had created a demanding professional life without Courtney in it.

As the two of them dressed for dinner and prepared to leave this sanctuary and return to the real world they both knew that although they had fixed a day from their past, it was far from certain that they could build a future together.



-------

Chapter 6: Two Lives Rejoined May, 1995 - May, 1996

Part 1 — Paradise

When it was finally time to dress for dinner, Courtney and Darryl both knew that just outside their door was the real world, with problems they would have to face, together if they could. But the eighteen hours since they'd been reunited were the happiest they had ever had.

The main purpose of the dinner, besides the fact that the happy couple was long overdue for a break and a sit-down meal, was to allow Darryl to become better acquainted with Jaclyn and Karl, Courtney's manager and head of security. They were not only key members of her professional staff but two of her closest personal friends, going back to her days as a student at Chapel Hill. It was important for Darryl to get to know them well, if he was going to stay and work at the lake house. While tonight was a social event, Darryl would have business meetings with each of them within the next few days. Courtney noticed that the table was actually set for five places. "Jaclyn, are we expecting a guest? We seem to have an extra place setting."

"Yes, I do have a surprise, although it is someone well known to both of you. She has just made an important career change, and I am happy to announce that Courtney Archer Inc. is officially her first account. Come on out, publicist!"

A very attractive young woman who looked to be Courtney and Jaclyn's age entered the room. Courtney immediately jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair. She ran to embrace the newcomer and happily squealed. "Robyn, my God, it's really you; you look fantastic; I can't believe you're here. The three of us will have so much to talk about."

"Robyn has been employed at a large PR firm," explained Jaclyn, "and I have been working on her for the longest time to get her to go out on her own and become an independent publicist. She's finally decided to take the plunge."

"What she means," explained Robyn, "is that now Courtney Archer Inc. has gotten so damn big and Jaclyn can guarantee me enough business, so it's not even much of a risk to go out on my own. But I have to confess that being able to spend some time with you here at the new lake house is quite a nice attraction in itself. I never dreamed that the three of us would ever get back together."

"I almost lost that dream myself, Robyn," said Courtney, "and even now I keep pinching myself to make sure it's real. I'm not sure how long it'll be before I can go to sleep without being afraid I'm going to wake up and find it was all just a dream."

The dinner was excellent, and the company delightful, everyone being about the same age and having so much in common. Jaclyn mentioned her plan to hire Darryl as Courtney's personal photographer. "That certainly won't be anything new," announced a delighted Robyn. "When Darryl first got a camera, Courtney was his favorite subject. There was a special chemistry between the two of them that always showed up on film. He gave her an album of his favorite shots as a parting gift at the end of ninth grade, and with their beauty and sensitivity, they were gallery quality. They definitely did not look like the work of a fifteen year old. Do you still have it, Courtney? I'd love to see that album again."

"That album is my most treasured keepsake from growing up. I don't think I've ever shown it to anybody but you."

Jaclyn gently touched Courtney's arm. "I'll certainly respect your privacy if you say no, but I would love to see it as a way of getting to know you then, and to see Darryl's work at that age."

"You know that privacy isn't an issue. I think of everyone here as family, and I'd be happy to share the album, but I think we would should ask Darryl."

"It's your album, Courtney; I have no objection. I've always been very proud of those pictures, and it was quite a few years before any other subject inspired me to do work of that caliber. I'd be glad to see them again myself, since my mother accidentally destroyed a lot of my early work while I was away at college. I was devastated, and even though I didn't blame her personally, I wasn't able to bring myself to speak to her for a week."

"Okay, it's decided then, but it's actually you, Karl, who will have to get the album. It's locked up in the fireproof safe, along with all my original musical manuscripts, in a folder marked 'Gift album, Grade 9'."

While Karl was gone, Robyn continued her conversation about her new job. "There's no doubt in my mind that with his special affinity for her, having Darryl doing Courtney's photographs will make my job much easier. Also I believe it will be easy for me to communicate to both of them what I need in the way of illustrations,"

"Do you think that we should go public with a story about Courtney and Darryl's relationship before the press gets wind of it?" asked Jaclyn.

"I think security is good enough here at the lake house for us to keep it private as long as possible. Let's at least keep the spotlight off them, until they've had a chance to decide whether or not they even have a relationship. If it looks like there's been a leak, we come out with the story then, just as it is, a nice story of childhood sweethearts who find themselves together again as adults. A story like that fits perfectly with Courtney's image and should make her more popular than ever."

Karl returned with the album, and everyone gathered around to take a look. They were amazed at the sensitivity and beauty in pictures taken by a fifteen year old boy. Jaclyn was mesmerized, and some of the photographs actually brought tears to her eyes. After viewing the album, obviously moved, she touched Darryl's cheek with her hand. "Darryl, those were extraordinary images of a very beautiful young lady. I can see my belief in the special magic between you two is justified. What I'm going to say is just personal opinion, and please don't think of this as going back on my word and butting into your artistic and creative independence. But if you were to do images with the extraordinary power and beauty I see in this album, I would certainly not be displeased. To me, these pictures are as fresh and timeless today as the day that you took them, and they show off our girl so much more than the trendy crap this industry usually goes for."

"Thank you, Jaclyn, I'll certainly take what you said as a compliment, not as interference. Besides, if I take the job, you can't help but get images like these. If you've seen my work, you know that I don't do highly contrived images. I try to build some of those qualities you mentioned into my images, timelessness, beauty, integrity. And I know I'm not the only artist in this room who believes in those values. Since my gift from that day has been shared, I am now going to ask Courtney if she is willing to share the extraordinary gift she gave me that same day, a special song."

"I don't know; I've never thought about singing it to anybody else, but I suppose it really is up to you. Darryl; it's your song. I wouldn't mind sharing it with this group of friends, but if I do, I'd prefer to sing it out by the lake."

"Actually I can't think of a more beautiful ending for this evening," said Jaclyn.

So the party adjourned to the edge of the lake, enjoying glasses of brandy, while Courtney shared the Song of Thanks that she had written for Darryl so many years ago.

You've given me wings

And special things, 

That's what your love brings, 

Thanks to you... 

After the last note faded, everyone sat quietly for a few moments. Robyn wiped a tear from her cheek. "I was your best friend, and I had no idea you could write a song like that at that age. That's so sweet. Are you ever going to publish that song?"

"Oh no, the song is just for Darryl; I've never even written it down. It has only been recorded one time, and that was for a CD that I sent to Darryl to invite him to my concert. It will never be recorded again or broadcast or performed, except for close personal friends like tonight. Otherwise it really wouldn't belong just to Darryl."

The friends said their goodnights and went their separate ways for the evening. As Karl and Jaclyn left together, Robyn turned to Courtney, "Anything going on between those two?"

"I don't know. They've been close friends since college, but I've never been able to catch them at anything more. On the other hand, they don't seem to date anybody else. I think they'd be good together, and if I can think of a way, maybe I'll give them a little shove. Why, you interested?"

"Might have been; he's pretty cute. But it's never smart to go after the boss's squeeze. Besides, I met Karl's assistant Kurt Janson this afternoon. He's pretty cute too, and as I gather, very available."

"Kurt's a hunk all right," sighed Courtney. "If I had ever given up on this guy, who knows?" She said this while watching Darryl from the corner of her eyes, but he just smiled and refused to take the bait.

They said goodnight to Robyn and went on to the master bedroom where they made passionate but gentler and quieter love.

The week started with several important meetings, the first of which was between Darryl and Jaclyn concerning his contract as personal photographer. It came as a surprise to no one, least of all Darryl, that he accepted Jaclyn's offer and signed on for a year. His job had many parts; he was responsible for publicity stills, posters, and all manner of franchise merchandise, along with designing and executing photographic art for CD and album covers. He was also responsible for supplying material to Robyn, for general publicity and fan material, as well as illustrations on demand for specific publications. And lastly, his very favorite function was to spend as much time as possible with Courtney as she went about her work, writing, rehearsing, practicing, and performing her music.

Another important meeting was a private one between Karl and Jaclyn concerning exactly how Darryl and the new couple affected their responsibilities for business and security matters. They agreed that as much as possible, they were going to adopt a strictly neutral, hands-off policy. Courtney and Darryl would have to work their relationship out on their own, unless it in some way affected the security or operations of the company. They were both long time friends of Courtney's, but they were determined to treat Darryl exactly the same as they treated her. They were not chaperones, private detectives, Ann Landers, or Mom. In other words, if the couple succeeded, they succeeded; if they broke up, they broke up. It was their problem, and their problem alone. They agreed on a special code phrase "Trouble in Paradise," which would be used to indicate a serious security problem relating to the couple.

Life at the lake house was idyllic for the lovers. While Courtney was writing and practicing her songs, Darryl was taking pictures of her, and once again, just like years ago, she was his ideal subject. Despite dire concerns, Darryl found Jaclyn easy to work with; she just wanted results, and as long as she got them, she delivered on her promise of creative and artistic control. Working with Courtney as his subject, Darryl found it easy to be innovative and creative. His work was soon the talk of the industry. It had a timeless quality at heart, with a warmth and charm that reflected Courtney's singing style. It was a refreshing change from the highly stylized cover art in current vogue, and the public seemed to be ready for the change. Poster sales, the best indicator, since these are bought for image alone, were off the chart.

One particularly fine morning, Courtney was sitting by the lake in her favorite wooden recliner, her preferred place for writing. Having Darryl with her somehow let the ideas flow freer than ever. He was also proving to be a patient sounding board for new ideas and new melodies. She smiled to herself when she heard his familiar footsteps approaching. He leaned around for a quick kiss. before hopping into his chair beside her. He was obviously excited as he opened his camera bag and pulled out a camera she had never seen before. The top part looked a lot like the Nikon camera she was used to, but it was labeled "Kodak" and had a large base. "Guess what this is Courtney?"

"I was just looking at it; it looks like your usual cameras, except it says Kodak and it's oversized on the bottom. I don't know."

Darryl took the camera, focused and snapped a few pictures. "I'll give you a hint. No film."

"No film? Is this one of those computer cameras I've heard about?"

"That's right, this is the Kodak DCS460, only twelve grand."

" $12,000.00? That's enough to buy a dozen film cameras. Are the pictures that much better?"

"No, they're not better at all; in fact, they're not as good as film, yet."

"Well, what's the point?"

"This is the future, and I don't want to be left behind. Right now the applications are limited, but believe it or not, in ten years film will be gone the way of the buggy whip."

"Ten years and film will be obsolete? I don't believe it."

"That's what they said about the LP, my dear, and how many of your songs were sold on them last year? In any case, a camera like this means you can take pictures that don't have to go to the lab for processing; they're available for your immediate viewing pleasure right on your personal computer."

"Oooooh, Mr. Sanders, you mean if we hooked up a computer in our bedroom, we could take and look at pictures without even leaving the room?"

"Yes, Miss Archer, I mean exactly that, and by the merest coincidence, I've just finished setting up a brand new computer in your boudoir."

Courtney did a theatrical yawn. "I'm beginning to think I got up too early this morning. I do believe I'm going back to bed. Care to join me?"

"Now that you mention it, I'm feeling a bit tired myself. Believe I will join you. Race you for the bed."

Among the many reasons why their relationship worked so well when it came to taking pictures was they were naturals for their tasks. It is a reasonable assumption that anyone who chooses to spend life in front of audiences of thousands, and on television watched by millions probably has an exhibitionist streak. It is also reasonable to assume that someone who chooses to spend life observing and recording through a camera lens has a strong voyeur tendency. This alone made Courtney and Darryl natural allies and compatible playmates in the bedroom.

The addition of the digital camera certainly didn't mark the first time that photography was a major bedroom game, but it added the new element to their play, being able to view the pictures as well as take them. Even though the pictures were destined to be seen by no one but themselves and would probably be erased in a matter of days, it did not take away from the care that went into them. Courtney loved pretty things, especially lingerie, and could afford the very best. Darryl, even when playing around, was still Darryl Sanders and still had the same trademark eye for composition and mastery of lighting.

As Darryl was getting his equipment together, a sultry voice from the closet asked, "Hey, Mr. Photoman with your camera of the future, what would you like your model to wear?"

"How about that 'Rita Hayworth' gown to start, and then my all-time very favorite, the white bustier?"

"And I suspect you won't need a third choice, because we've never gotten past the bustier yet. Get your camera running. I'll be right out."

"Right out," in this case, was on the female timescale, which is somewhat different than the male, but in due course, Courtney appeared. She did, in fact, look a good bit like the very famous World War II pin up of Rita Hayworth in the glamorous gown fitted at the top and with a long flowing white skirt. Darryl started with her sitting on her legs and looking over her left shoulder, just as in the original photograph. "Well damn," proclaimed Darryl, "I'm ready to go out and buy some war bonds."

"Stick around, big boy, and I'll have you ready to march into Berlin and turn Hitler over your knee." And with that she started to ease down the strap on one side of the gown. Schnick Schnick went the camera. She exposed one perfectly formed orb of a breast, capped with areola and nipple the beautiful shade of pink usually seen in a rose. Schnick Schnick Schnick. Down came the other strap, and she caressed her own breasts to cause the nipples to erect. Schnick Schnick Schnick Schnick. Courtney now pulled her knees up and played with the sheer full skirt to tease and flirt with the camera. Schnick Schnick Schnick

"Courtney, pull the top back up; stand by the big window with the light behind the sheer skirt." She did as he requested, and the long full sheer skirt lit up with the light reflecting off the lake. The silhouette of her body showed through the luminous cloud of light with just enough detail to make it erotic. And the light streaming through her hair lit up her face like an angel. Schnick Schnick Schnick Schnick

They stopped while he pulled the hard drive from the camera and plugged it into the computer, and they looked at the pictures together. Courtney never ceased to marvel at how he was able to bring out beauty in her that she could never see in the mirror. "Darryl, tell me the truth, looking at these pictures of me in the window with the light in my hair, do I really look like this to you, or is this something only the camera can see, because I can't."

"I can see it all in my mind, although not always with my eye. But a photographer must always see more in his mind than his eyes can see, just like a musician must be able to hear the orchestra when he looks at a sheet of music. Now I see you in a white bustier, please."

Courtney, ducking giggling back into the closet, yelled out, "Don't forget to ah adjust ah everything carefully; you know the effect this outfit always has on you."

"Very funny, just get out here, and we'll see who it affects."

Within a few minutes, her voice came from within the closet. "Oh Darryl, sweetheart, do you have an erection?"

"No, I've been out here all by myself for the last fifteen minutes; any reason I should have one?"

"No, not yet, I want you to be standing right by the door. OK, here I come, 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8 damn a new record, flaccid to full boner in under nine seconds. If word of this gets out, every woman in America is going to want to own a white bustier. Well, if you still have enough blood left in your brain to talk, where do you want me... no, you know, naughty boy, for pictures."

Darryl was obviously trying to refocus. " Ahhh, on the bed. That's a good place." Courtney climbed on the bed and stretched out like a cat. Schnick Schnick Schnick She leaned forward to give him full advantage of her décolletage, with her lovely breasts framed in the cups of the bustier. Schnick Schnick Schnick Schnick

She sat up facing him and lifted her leg as though adjusting her stocking. Darryl found himself looking straight down at the crotch of her sheer white panties, where even now a distinct damp spot was forming in the center. Schnick Schnick Schnick She swung around and gave him the same pose from the side with the leg poised. He got on the bed with her so his camera angle could include her beautiful cleavage. Schnick Schnick Schnick

Courtney was beginning to get turned on herself; as she lay back against the pillows, she reached in and scooped a breast out of the bustier where she could play with the nipple. Darryl moved in for a close up. Schnick Schnick Schnick

Darryl himself was finding it harder and harder to concentrate on photography. Her hand now slid across her smooth belly and her fingertips slipped under the elastic band of her panties. Schnick Schnick Schnick Her hand reached down until it covered her whole pussy, and even from the outside of her panties it was possible to tell that several fingers had disappeared inside. Schnick Schnick Schnick

The model was starting to squirm and make little noises, so that Darryl actually started taking some pictures of her face as she approached her self induced orgasm. Schnick Schnick Schnick

But Courtney had other ideas. Breathing heavily, her eyes popped open. "Darryl, my pet, put down the fucking camera; get your clothes off, and get down here. I want you."

It sounded like a good idea to Darryl, who got his clothes off in record time and climbed back into bed. Courtney turned to him. "Just get these panties off me, Darryl; I'm ready now; oh God, am I ready."

Darryl got between her legs and took hold of her white panties and pulled them off. He could see that she was very ready indeed, although that didn't prevent him from sneaking in one quick lick across her clit just to watch her reaction, which was a good spasm and a gasp, followed by a plaintive "Darryl, please!" Oh yes, she was ready. She got him back by grabbing him and giving him a stroke, because he was as excited as she. Foreplay wasn't an issue, because for them, the camera play, the looking and the being looked at were foreplay. All that was required was the act of physical union.

Darryl got in position, and she almost impatiently reached around and placed him in her. She then wrapped her legs around him and thrust upward to meet his thrust. He plunged straight in until they lay pelvis to pelvis. Courtney looked at him, "Oh yes, my love, I can feel you; I feel so full. Make love to me; make me yours."

Darryl started a slow steady rhythm, in part to stretch out his own level of excitement, because seeing her lying below him in that white bustier was a powerful stimulus. Fortunately her breathing, her sounds and the eager way she met him thrust for thrust, told him that her release wasn't that far off.

Courtney indicated she would like to be on top, so they switched. She straddled him and leaned forward, until he had a fabulous view down the front of the bustier with her beautiful breasts now served up delightfully on a lingerie half shell. Darryl reached in and cupped them as though judging prize fruit, before taking the nipple between thumb and forefinger and gently rolling it.

"Yes, yes, don't stop; don't stop," she yelled, and immediately her body shuddered, and she started pumping faster.

Darryl groaned; he felt a familiar tightening in his balls, "I'm going to come, Courtney; I'm coming."

Courtney shuddered again, and he felt the spasm massage his cock. "Go ahead, come for m; I want to feel you come."

It happened so close together it's impossible to say whose climax triggered whose, and certainly neither Courtney nor Darryl gave a damn. They both had very grand, very satisfying, and extremely noisy releases. It was so loud, in fact, that it brought knowing grins to several members of the lake house family who were not used to such enthusiastic love making in the middle of the morning. But no one doubted who it was, for everyone delighted in the loving couple. They all shared in Courtney's happiness. But while everyone knew he was much more than just her photographer, Darryl was almost never seen without a camera in his hands.

Courtney loved having Darryl take pictures of her, both the official ones and the unofficial ones. Some of those unofficial ones kept Karl up at night, terrified that they would somehow, someday, end up in the wrong hands. Sometimes, they didn't take pictures at all; they just used the cameras as props in a game that always ended up with Courtney naked and Darryl excited. And whenever she was naked and he was excited, they got laid, which made both of them very happy. Then she would always sing better, which made Jaclyn very happy. And when Jaclyn was happy, almost everybody had a better day. At least, this was Karl's rationale for not discouraging their recreational "photo ops," and he, like Darryl, took special precautions to make sure that any resulting images stayed private.

Karl wasn't too far off the mark. Jaclyn was happy, very happy, but she was also tremendously relieved, since she realized what a huge risk this reunion was to Courtney's career. Talent and creativity are not well understood. Just as authors may struggle with writer's block when their muses unexpectedly desert them, no one could predict what the effect of having Darryl back in her life would have on Courtney's creativity. It was always possible that her special songwriting talent flowed from her pain, as in the case of great blues writers. Fortunately for all concerned, and much to Jaclyn's delight, the months after the reunion were some of the most productive in Courtney's entire songwriting career. Her writing reflected a renewed sense of joy and hope and even playfulness. Her singing voice had never been better, prompting her voice coach to say that you could hear her bliss in her voice. But most important, she was happy; she smiled all the time and floated when she walked, especially when she and Darryl were together. They had taken a risk, a risk that Jaclyn would have taken in any case as Courtney's friend, but as Courtney's manager, she was delighted to find that the result had been a new energy and drive in Courtney's career.

Part 2 - The Traveling Circus

If all of Courtney's musical life had been spent at the lake house writing and recording her songs, there is little doubt that Darryl would have fit in perfectly, and as in fairy tales, they would have lived happily ever after. Unfortunately, this time did not represent all of her musical life and career. The other part of Courtney's musical world was her time on tour. To the fan, this is the glamorous world of colored spotlights, multitudes of screaming fans, and live performers on stage in fabulous costumes. Even Darryl, when he got the chance to join Jaclyn in the VIP box out front, could lose himself in the music and enjoy the vision of the lovely Courtney on the stage. It was beautiful spectacle.

Achieving this spectacle took something on the scale of a moderately-sized military operation. The advance people hit the town well ahead of the event and made sure publicity, interviews, and TV spots were set to support ticket sales; catering, housing, "No sir, that was two dozen red roses, 3 bottles Dom Perignon, 2 dozen Krispy Kreme, and 3 iced cases of Diet COKE; you bring any damn Diet Pepsi in here, and Jaclyn will move the whole crew over to the Motel 6... no, to be honest, I can't taste the difference either, but apparently Jaclyn can."

The technical advance team coordinates with the local venue on facilities, availability of local union labor, local safety code. "OK, looks like we got the power to the left of the stage, scoreboards not sticking, good; now the rodeo in there 3 days before us, yes Bill, I'm sure you'll have all the bullshit swept up, but what about odor?"

On the day before, or the morning before on a tight schedule, several large, air-cushioned 18 wheelers, painted like a Courtney Archer poster, pull in along with a colorful band of roadies. Thus commences the job of building a complete theater within a theater with its own lighting, sound speaker system, the whole package; a complete concert stage, sound stage, minus the building, which can be taken apart in a matter of hours, driven to the next venue and reassembled.

Last the talent and entourage arrive by private bus or plane or both. Established stars with generous budgets may fly for big hops and use private motor coaches for shorter legs. The motor coaches can be standard tour bus styles, holding 20-30, or deluxe custom mansions. Musical talent today is very unlikely to fly commercial, not just out of snobbery, but because of the potentially disastrous financial consequences of an ill-timed virus or cold.

In the entertainment industry, spectacle is a thin veneer of beauty plastered over the scraps and debris of prior spectacles and often manned by the dregs of the industry. Besides the concerts themselves, the tour consisted of TV shows, publicity interviews, promotional events and a constant parade of journalists, music industry suits, people of culture, politicians, local celebrities and any one else that could swing a pass or sweet talk a security guard. Add these to the already large and colorful road crew that traveled with the tour, and you had the entity that Darryl called the traveling circus.

The traveling circus stood for the bizarre world of the music industry, and this is a world that Darryl immediately hated. He wasn't comfortable in it, and he did not think he could ever be part of it. Whether Darryl was thought of as the star's boyfriend or as her photographer, he was basically in the way, and everyone seemed only too happy to keep reminding him just how much in the way he was. Photographers in general and the legions of paparazzi in particular were held in very low esteem, and no one in the music industry knew or cared that Darryl was a Pulitzer Prize-winning photographer of an entirely different breed. To them, he was just another damned pest with a camera. And the truth was, his talents were wasted on tour; the pictures he made could have as easily been taken by Johnny, who had been hired as his assistant and backup. The highly artificial environment and high pressure gave little scope to the natural, almost introspective style of his best work.

Darryl didn't even get to see a great deal of Courtney; she was always busy either getting ready or recovering from a performance or being interviewed, or those million other demands on a living legend's time. Even he had to admit that Courtney wasn't totally immune to the diva disease before performances, where the performer acts like it's all about her, because in truth, it is all about her. And after the performance, Karl's description seemed accurate enough: a rag doll with PMS, usually best left alone. Even though he slept with her most nights, sleep was the key word. By the time Courtney was able to go to bed, all she COULD do was sleep. The pillow talk, cuddling, and of course, making love, they'd enjoyed at the lake house was not possible on tour. So Darryl found himself in the paradoxical position, like a sailor in a lifeboat, dying of thirst while surrounded by water; he was desperately lonely while jammed in a mob of people.

The people were the worst problem. Courtney had apparently gotten used to the phonies, the hangers-on, the parasites, the cheats and liars who seemed to populate the music business like ticks on a wild deer. Darryl wasn't used to being around such people, or worse yet, having to put up with them. Like other types of show business, the music business seemed to overflow with people with no talent of their own, looking for a way to live off those who did have talent. For every great artist, there were ten wannabes. For every fading wannabe, there were twenty more coming along the next year. To Darryl, the worst bottom feeders were the paparazzi who spent every waking hour trying to ruin the stars' lives by catching them in an embarrassing or indiscreet moment. They were not above trying to bribe even him, knowing his history and relationship to Courtney, for any nude pictures of her he was willing to sell. Unfortunately Jaclyn had told Darryl that he was not allowed to punch anyone out, because that would only create the very kind of publicity the paparazzi were seeking.

Jaclyn and Courtney had made a number of very dangerous enemies by managing to make it to the top while bypassing all of the majors. There had always been 'indies' in the business, but they weren't supposed to get too big, or too independent. Courtney Archer Inc.'s overwhelming success set a dangerous precedent in the industry, and the big dogs would like nothing more than to bring Jaclyn and Courtney's empire to heel. Jaclyn still had to deal with them, and they were always very polite to her face, but she knew they would tear her heart out if she gave them the slightest opening. Darryl couldn't understand how she managed to deal with these people, but that was her job, and she did it well. By now, she wielded enough power so they had to treat her with caution and respect, at least until they found the chink in her armor.

The most dangerous and the nastiest of these record industry executives was Aubrey Deniaud, who had a stranglehold on a key number of records stores and outlets. He had been trying for years to first lure and later coerce Jaclyn into signing on with him. Making him even more obnoxious was the fact that he fancied himself a rival for Courtney's affections, when in fact she loathed him. Because of his power and his control of outlets that they needed, they had the treat him at least politely and avoid open confrontation. This meant that when Aubrey was around, Courtney had to smile sweetly while dodging his hands, and Jaclyn had to dodge unfair and unethical business practices while still finding ways to make a deal. But Aubrey reserved some of his worst for Darryl; while always most charming, he made a point of constantly belittling him, referring to him as Courtney's "childhood sweetheart," with heavy emphasis on "childhood." He never acknowledged that they had any adult relationship at all, saying things like; "Oh yes, you're her childhood sweetheart. What a wonderful story. Isn't it too bad that childhood sweethearts, like childhood toys, are things that we soon outgrow? I hope you won't stand in her way, now that she's grown up and doesn't need her childhood things anymore. There is nothing more pathetic than an ex-boyfriend who doesn't know when to leave."

And he was only the worst of a bad lot. It's a sad fact that show business salaries can be so astronomically out of proportion to any other profession that they create their own exclusive world. Darryl was actually a very successful and well-known photographer who made, in terms of the real world, an excellent income. Now he was required to socialize with music industry "personalities" and was quickly made to feel like a charity case by those who enjoyed ostentatious displays of their money. He soon realized that the perpetrators were conspicuous by their absence when bills were presented. He was even stuck with picking up the check for his tormentors. Such bills were reimbursed by Courtney Archer Inc, but this did nothing to excuse the lack of grace and manners shown by the industry "elite."

Courtney was concerned about Darryl's unhappiness on the tour, to the extent she had an inkling of it. Wrapped up in the business of being a major music star, she really did not see how serious and deep his unhappiness was. Partly, of course, Darryl did not wish to distract Courtney in the middle of her tour, so he told her little of his dissatisfaction. There was also the issue of his masculine pride restraining him, since he felt like he should be able to solve his own problems. Even if he'd communicated better, he still would have found her response to be about the same. Courtney just tried to be patient and give Darryl time, since he was the one having to make all the adjustments. She didn't accept responsibility for making any changes in her life to make more room for him to fit in.

Darryl truly did give it his best college try. His photography had the quality and style that were hall marks of Darryl Sanders' work. He tried to meet his social responsibilities, and he could be an excellent host, especially at a less formal event at the lake house. He was an exceptional dancer, and having learned from his parents in the State Department, he was certainly at home at any banquet or reception. Courtney, of course, received invitations to all sorts of functions from the White House to supermarket openings. Darryl looked good in a tux, and Courtney had her own fashion consultants and dressers. Designers were tripping over themselves to get her to wear their latest creations. Sometimes it was fun, especially when they got to dance, and sometimes it was just boring when they had to listen to a lot of speeches. But Darryl always tried to be a good sport and a dashing escort.

So while it was never a secret that Darryl was increasingly unhappy, they did manage to get through the tour without a major blow up. This, of course, left the question of whether or not he would agree to, or even could, do this again.

Part 3 — Trouble In Paradise

Back at the lake house, Courtney and Darryl rested, licked their wounds, and tried to put together a more workable scheme for their relationship. They had just about twelve weeks before Darryl's contract was up for renewal, and they both had accepted that date as when they would decide on their future plans. Everyone at the lake house knew they were going to be facing some difficult decisions.

If Courtney had not realized how serious the problem was, she soon received her wakeup call. One morning, soon after they returned, as they greeted the sunrise over the lake from the master bedroom, Courtney rested her head on Darryl's shoulder. "What are you thinking about?"

"I'm thinking about us. I'm thinking about me as a part of your life, how I fit in."

"You really mean you're trying to decide if you can stand being on tour again. Isn't that it?"

"Yes Courtney, if your musical career all took place here at the lake house, there would be no questions about whether I could fit in. I could make a useful contribution and be a meaningful part of your life."

"But my career doesn't all take place here, so what are you going to do?"

"I don't know; I just don't know. I do know that I love you very much. I always have, and I can't imagine that ever changing. I want to be with you. I want to be a part of your life. I know that there could never be another woman for me. I would like to marry you, and I would like to raise a family with you. These things I do know. What I don't know is how I can be a part of your life on the road."

"Maybe you don't have to be. Maybe Johnny could do the photography on tour, and you could just not go."

"And then we have a situation just like high school, where you have two separate lives, one of which I'm not part of."

Courtney moved and kneeled behind him and started massaging his shoulders as though she could take away the pain he was feeling. When he leaned back against her, he felt the softness and warmth of her breasts in his back. She wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled his ear. "Even if everything's not perfect, it's so much better than not having each other at all."

"But that's what's troubling me the most, Courtney; is that true?" Is it always going to be better to be together, even if it is making one or both of us miserable? Do you maintain the relationship at all costs, even if no longer brings you happiness?"

She stroked his brow like a mother soothing a distressed child. "Shhh, Darryl, you don't want to think like that. It couldn't have been that bad. I know you were upset, but it can't be so bad that you're talking about throwing away everything."

Her soothing tones backfired; he heard them as condescending, which triggered months of pent-up anger and frustration. He suddenly sat up and turned around, seizing her by the shoulders. It hurt, but she said nothing. "No, not bad for you, nothing's bad for you, Miss Mega-Superstar Courtney Archer. Hell, the whole damn circus is about Miss Mega-Superstar Courtney Archer. I'm just one of the clowns. Worse, I'm Miss Mega-Superstar's boy toy; I'm the lowest form of life on the whole fucking planet. Rent-a-cops get to shove me around. No one speaks to me at all, unless they are trying to get an exclusive on how Courtney Archer is in bed, or if I'll sell them naked pictures of Miss Mega-Superstar Courtney Archer. It's bad enough to even be considered the same species as the paparazzi, but some of these people consider me even lower. I come from a world they'll never know, the real world, where real people live and die and work for a living. To do this fucking tour, I had to turn down dinner at the Explorers Club with Sir Edmund Hilary, Bob Ballard, Prince Charles, John Glenn, a couple Noble Prize winners and a lot of other people these guys would never have heard of because they've never read a fucking book. And I was invited as the speaker! So where do these lowlife sons of bitches get off treating me like dirt on the floor. And bad, yes, it was bad. You wanna know how fucking bad it was? Do you want to know how many times I wished I had never gotten the package with the tickets? Was I sometimes more unhappy this year than I was in the ten years when all I had was dreams. Yes, yes I was; I was sometimes more unhappy and lonelier. At least in my dreams we were a happy couple. On the tour I felt like a parasite living at your pleasure. Is this what you wanted to hear?"

His eyes filled with tears, his hands dropped from her shoulders, and he collapsed exhausted by his own tirade, troubled immensely by having voiced issues he'd never clearly thought about before. Courtney, who had listened to this verbal assault with increasing shock, grabbed her robe and retreated to her own, seldom-used room, where she fell on the bed crying. For the first time, she began to realize how truly awful the experience had been for Darryl, and how much in jeopardy their relationship was. And more upsetting, she had no idea how to fix it.

The fact that there had been a major lovers' spat did not go unnoticed in the lake house community. Jaclyn called Robyn and Karl in for a meeting. As expected Jaclyn was in charge. "OK, I think the fact that our two prize lovebirds slept alone last night means Courtney finally got a wake up call. I suspect she finally realizes that if she goes on the way she has been, she could actually lose Darryl. Since we're just about the only family they've got, they may turn to us for advice, so I want to make sure we're all on the same page. OK, to start, do we all understand the basic problems in their relationship?"

"Hold on, boss," said Karl, "I'm not sure I understand what's going on. I know that Darryl was unhappy on tour, but that's about all."

"Sorry, Karl, I forgot that you're a guy, so you don't speak relationship," laughed Jaclyn, "Robyn, would you like to explain it to Karl."

"OK, Karl, here is the condensed version. Darryl is as well known and respected in his world as Courtney is in hers. On tour he gets treated like dogshit on someone's shoe. He doesn't get to use his talent. and he hardly ever sees Courtney. Worst of all, he is obviously the one expected to make all of the professional and personal changes to fit her into life, while she makes none."

"That doesn't sound fair. No wonder he's pissed. But why would Courtney treat Darryl so badly?"

"She doesn't realize she is. Remember, Karl, since Chapel Hill she's been surrounded by people who work for her and worshipful fans. It's always been all about her. It's the only type of relationship she knows about anymore, so it would never occur to her that he would be unhappy with the way things are, or that he would expect her to change."

"Why doesn't he just tell her?"

"Apparently, he just did!" Jaclyn explained. "So they have slightly less than twelve weeks to work this out, before Darryl's contract expires. I'll sleep a lot better, if this is all sorted out before then. So let's get to work; what options do they have? Yes, Karl, you want to go first; be my guest,"

"Darryl sits out the tour. Johnny covers it instead. Johnny seems to like that type of work."

"The simplest solution and workable, but you will have a hard time selling it, particularly to Darryl. This will remind them both of unhappy memories, when Courtney had two separate lives, and Darryl was only involved in one."

"Does Courtney have to tour as much as she does?" asks Robyn."

"Excellent question; tours are a lot of hassle, more expensive, and less lucrative than many people think. They do help build a fan base and recruit new fans, but they're relatively inefficient. Courtney could not tour at all, or do a short six to eight week tour and be able to visit enough key markets to accomplish 95% of what she does with longer tours. Darryl could use this time to do an assignment for a major publication and keep his career going. I have suggested to Courtney that she is well enough established now to cut way back on her tours, but she has shown no interest in doing so. "

"Is anyone going to suggest these ideas to them?"

"Better not; I don't think they would be well received. I think they need to come to these conclusions themselves. If they should turn to any of us, that's different; if asked, you are free to make suggestions. Try to be fair and neutral, and I just hope we can be on the same page.

"One last word, remember you are dealing with Courtney and Darryl. These two never seriously dated anyone except each other in their lives. If they sometimes appear clueless, it's because they are. They have to learn those lessons about getting along and compromising that rest of us learned back in high school and college. We'd better hope they're fast learners, because they don't have much time left."

Not knowing what to say to each other after the blow-up, Darryl and Courtney had avoided speaking and had even left the master bedroom unoccupied for the first time since their reunion. They needed an emotionally neutral ground, and they both knew where that was. Courtney approached the dock in the early dawn light and saw the silhouetted figure sitting on end of the dock. As she was wondering how to break the ice, Darryl spoke first, "If you take off your shoes, you can dangle your feet in the water."

Courtney slipped off her shoes and sat on the dock, letting her feet hang down into the water. Darryl looked at her a little surprised, "The first time I invited you to do that, you never did."

"This time, you didn't insult me." She leaned against him and put her arms around his waist. With her head against his chest but looking away from him, she spoke in a very small voice. "Darryl, I didn't know it was so bad. I should have seen it, but I didn't. I can't bear to lose you again. I'll fix it somehow. I don't know how but I will." Darryl put his arm around her and affectionately nuzzled her neck, but he did not answer. "Darryl, don't you believe me? Don't you believe I can fix things?"

"I believe you'll try, Courtney; I really do, and I hope you'll succeed, that we'll succeed."

"Oh, I'll succeed," she said and she hopped up and planted a big kiss on his cheek. Then echoing a Courtney of many years ago, she said, "And something else, Darryl Sanders, I'm going to marry you someday." She grabbed her shoes and took off running to the house. In spite of himself, Darryl laughed and chased after her.



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Chapter 7: The Cuckold's Concert - May, 1996

When I sing, I feel like when you're first in love. It's more than sex. It's that point two people can get to they call love, when you really touch someone for the first time, but it's gigantic, multiplied by the whole audience. I feel chills. 
Janis Joplin

PART 1. THE CRISES

Robyn had agreed to meet Courtney for lunch. She was glad to have this time with her old childhood friend, although she suspected correctly the topic of conversation —Darryl. Courtney was obviously in distress. "Robyn, thanks for coming today. We have so much to talk about. "

"Yes, like how to solve this impasse between you and Darryl, before my two favorite people in the world do something stupid like split up over some dumb disagreement about concert tours."

"It won't come to that, Robyn; we both love each other very much. Look at what we've been through to get back together. I think it's just going to take Darryl time to really understand my music and what it means to me. I'm sure when he does, he'll support me and not try to get me to give it up."

"So right now, you feel like Darryl is trying to get you to give up part of your musical life for him and not really supporting you?"

"Well yes, I mean I don't think he thinks of it that way, but when he asks me to change for the sake of our relationship, he's really asking me to give up the concert tour, and I can't do that. I think when he gets used to things, he will realize that is not realistic, and he won't expect it. I just think he had a hard time fitting in this first year."

"Courtney, be careful. Darryl is not your typical guy. I don't think he would be this upset over just being the new kid on the block. I think you're taking this far too lightly. I know Darryl loves you very much, but if he doesn't believe in the relationship, he will leave."

"Why would he? I've already told him that if he doesn't want to go on tour, he doesn't have to. We'd still be together about half the year. That's gotta be a lot better than nothing."

"To most guys, probably, but for Darryl, probably not. I'd just don't think he wants a partial relationship. I think this time, for him, it's all or nothing."

"I'm just not sure if I can offer that much, Robyn."

"Can offer or should that be 'willing to offer'? I see the things Darryl sacrificed, his home, his career, his friend; in fact, he pretty much just dropped his life to come here and be with you. I don't see what you have sacrificed. You're living in the same place, with the same friends, doing exactly the same things on exactly the same schedule. The only difference in your life with Darryl or without Darryl is whether or not you're sleeping alone."

"That's not true; that's just not a fair thing to say at all."

"Isn't it?"

"Oh my God, Robyn, I hadn't looked at it that way, but you're right; you're absolutely right. What can I do?"

"I'm not sure, but I think I would talk to Darryl and make sure I knew what it is he wants."

"We've talked a lot, Robyn, but I'm not sure we really understand each other. I know that I learned some things in the last few minutes that I did not know. Please, Robyn, will you talk to him? I think it might really help."

"Okay, Courtney, you know I'll give it my best."

Robyn went immediately to look for Darryl and found him where she thought she might, down by the lake where he used to go even as a child when he wanted to think. She sat down beside him and waited for him to acknowledge her. "Oh, hello, Robyn, looking for me I suppose, business or social call?"

Robyn smiled, "With you two there really isn't much difference anymore, is there? But you are right; I do want talk to you about Courtney; she even asked me to. But I will only do it if you both are comfortable, and I'm not butting into your business."

"Right now, we could probably stand some butting in; I don't think we're doing a very good job understanding each other."

"All right, Darryl, let's start with what would you really like in the way of a relationship."

"What I'd like is very simple; it's not a very original idea. I'd like to marry the woman I love and have a family. That's it. The irony is most guys I know have women who are dying to do just that, live in a beautiful mansion like this. But I have one who's just too damn busy."

"And Darryl, what about her career, would you expect her to give it up completely or just hire a nanny, or what?"

"Well, of course, I wouldn't expect her to give it up. She's a huge star, and music is her life. But I'm also not interested in a wife or mother who's gone over half the year. So she would have to be willing to significantly cut back on the length of her concert tour, and so far, she's shown no sign of being prepared to make any sacrifice."

"Are these eventual plans or immediate goals?"

"Well, I understand she'd have to complete the next tour, since the contracts are already signed, but after that, I would want a dramatic change. As you know, Robyn, we're all approaching 30; if we want to have a family, now's the time to do it.

"Now, Darryl, I'm going to ask you the big question, and you don't have to answer. If you can't get what you want, and the best you can get is Courtney half the year and on tour the other half, can you or will you live with that?"

"Well, Robyn, welcome to my insomnia; that's THE question. I don't really want to live with half of Courtney's life; it was barely acceptable in high school, and it would be much worse now. I could never marry her that way, and we can never have children that way. So I actually hope I would have the courage to say that this is not what I want for either of us and walk away. Whether I can actually do that, turn my back on the one love of my life, lose her again; I don't know. I just hope Courtney can find a way to meet me part way, so I don't have to make that decision."

It was a badly-shaken Robyn who met with Jaclyn and Karl to report on what she found.

"They're talking, but unfortunately, I don't think Courtney's listening. What Darryl wants is marriage and family, and wife and mommy on the road for six or more months out of the year isn't part of that package. What Courtney's offered is essentially nothing. In other words, she's not offering to change anything, but if Darryl hates the concert tour, he can sit it out. She was surprised when I pointed out that the only effect Darryl's had on her life was to give her a sleeping buddy. While he had essentially dumped his entire life and career on a moment's notice to come be with her. She was surprised, but she still didn't offer to change anything. If nothing changes, Courtney's convinced Darryl will stick it out anyway. And I think what she's going to do is stick Band-Aids on and figure on him sticking around anyway"

"Darryl is hoping Courtney will come up with a significant compromise in the length of the concert tour. If she offers it, he will probably propose marriage immediately. If she continues to be completely inflexible, he hopes, I repeat he hopes, he will have the courage to leave. To just tell her that half a relationship is just not what he's looking for. Now here's the really bad news. I've known Darryl all my life. He's my cousin. I've spent a lot more time with him than Courtney has. When he makes up his mind, there is no turning back. I kept getting the feeling from Courtney that if this went badly, she thought she could always give in at it the last minute. I tried to tell her she wasn't taking this seriously enough. If Darryl decides to leave, he'll leave; his heart will be breaking, but he'll leave, and he will not look back and not come back. So I think Courtney is playing with fire and doesn't know it. If she doesn't learn to compromise in the next few weeks, I'm willing to bet that Darryl will leave, and this time it will be for good.

PART 2. COURTNEY'S SACRIFICE

The stalemate ended quite unexpectedly about three weeks later. One morning Courtney showed up in Jaclyn's office. She sat down on the sofa next to the desk. "OK, Jaclyn, take me through this once again; how much does it hurt my career to cut back my tour to six or eight weeks?"

"At this point in your career, with a good choice of venues, probably not at all."

"How about revenues?"

"Some tour revenue lost obviously, but if the time is spent writing and recording, probably you'll make more."

"What about the people we employ on the tour; what about their jobs?"

"First, given the quality of the people we use, I'm sure they would all have no trouble filling in that time, but I've been thinking of signing some more talent on to our record label, and we could use our crew to put them on the road. I've been planning to get together with you soon about a plan to do that anyway."

"Jaclyn, let's cut to it; what is the downside on cutting back on my touring?"

"Courtney, speaking as a business manager, absolutely none. Speaking as your friend, none, except to your head. Can you give it up? Upside, it'll save your relationship with Darryl. It's your call, but Courtney, if there is anyway you can give it up, I think you'd better consider it.

The office was completely silent for several minutes. Then, when Courtney looked up at Jaclyn; there were tears in her eyes. "OK, Jaclyn, go ahead; shut it down. After this season, I'm only touring six weeks a year. You can go ahead and get the word out."

"You're sure?"

There were tears running down her cheeks now. "Do it. I don't really have a choice. It's just about the hardest thing I've ever done. The only thing harder would be to imagine losing Darryl again. There is one other thing I'd like you to set up for me though. Can you get Norm Stapleton in here this morning?"

Courtney came up behind Darryl later that day and threw her arms around his neck and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Darryl, please go see Jaclyn; she has a surprise for you from me and a request from me to you. She's expecting you."

Somewhat mystified, Darryl did as requested and went to Jaclyn's office. "Jaclyn, Courtney said you wanted to see me."

"Yes, Darryl, thank you for coming by so promptly. I believe you already know Norm Stapleton, our road manager?" she said, indicating a husky gentleman seated beside her desk.

"Oh yes, how are you, Norm? I believe you've been in charge of all of Courtney's road concerts since she began."

"Norm is here finalizing plans for the Rwanda Relief Aid Concert in Indianapolis, next Friday, which I want to discuss with you in a moment," said Jacqueline, "but first I wanted to tell you that Courtney just told us she has decided that after this upcoming tour, which is already under contract, she wants to reduce her annual touring to between six and eight weeks a year. I believe this is what you were hoping for. Many of us have been silently rooting for you, believing it would be best for her future happiness. Congratulations, and I trust you will justify the faith we are showing in you. I want you to know that this was an extremely difficult decision for Courtney, which, I believe, is why she left it up to me to tell you.

"Thank you. This is indeed unexpected good news! I'm not surprised she left it to you to inform me. I know this was very tough for her. I believe I understand something about her giving up that very exciting experience of live concert."

"No, Darryl, I'm not sure you do; I'm not sure I even do. But at least in your case, you may get some enlightenment. Courtney was asking Norm and me if it would be possible to get you on the stage for one concert, so you can get a little taste of what it's like. She thinks it's very important that you share this experience with her, so that you can better understand this part of her life. If nothing else, it's possible that it will make next year's tour more bearable for you. Anyway, Norm thinks he can accommodate Courtney's wishes, provided that you are willing to go along. Norm, can you fill him in?"

"Hi, Darryl," boomed the stocky road manager. "A road manager gets a lot of odd requests, goes with the territory, but this one was a bit unique. Courtney wants me to hide you on the stage as close as possible to where she'll be singing, so you can sample the concert experience first hand. Well, we got a couple of things going for us on this one. First the Market Square Arena in Indianapolis is a good venue for this; it's a big ol' cave of an arena that sort of swallows up that backstage in the dark. Another break is it's a charity concert, and we have Mariah Carey and the Dave Matthews Band appearing on the same stage before us. The Dave Matthews band has five pieces and requires a larger monitor mixer, that is, more of those guys you always see sitting up there at those sound boards moving little levers around. Well, what they're doing is adjusting the sound levels between the various instruments, and the reason they're right up there on the stage is because you'll sometimes see the performers actually turn around and speak to them during the show if they want change the levels. So, Darryl, we're gonna make you a sound man for the night; you'll be A-4, that is audio #4, and you'll be sitting at the mixer closest to Courtney. It'll be all lit up, and you'll be busily adjusting those little levers, only of course, your mixer won't be hooked up to anything. "

Darryl turned to Jaclyn "You want me to get pictures from there, too?"

"Oh no, you absolutely will not be the photographer at this concert, Darryl. Johnny will take this one. Also, as much as possible, I don't want anybody to know that you are Courtney's boyfriend.

"Damn straight, Darryl," said the road manager, "I guess sneaking someone in like this isn't exactly against the law, but it sure as hell violates the customs and practice of theater and creates a bad precedent. I only agreed to go along with this stunt because of my personal affection and regard for Courtney, and with the understanding that you will be undercover as part of the technical road crew. I mean obviously, the other electricians will know, and the union shop steward has to know, and few people like that, but otherwise, I want you to eat, sleep and drink with the roadies. Since it's a single night event, that won't carve too big a hunk out of your life.

"That's OK, Norm, sounds interesting; you mind if I use it for gathering background for a possible feature story next year on roadies?"

"Hell no, one thing roadies like is publicity and their picture in a magazine; they always figure they're the real stars of the show anyway. OK Darryl, here's what I'll need you to do. Take this card with the cell number for Jake Corson; he's my A1, that's head audio man. Set up a time with him to get checked out on a mixer, at least enough to look good and not electrocute yourself. Now there's another card to get up with Mabel, she's Stitch Bitch, excuse me, wardrobe director, so we can make you look like a proper mixer, and preferably not like Darryl Sanders, singer's boyfriend. Don't worry; we're not talking about a disguise like one of those eyeglasses with a fake mustache or anything. Mabel will fix you up with some clear lens eye glasses and some standard dark, on-stage clothing, cut full to add extra weight. And get a haircut at the last minute, some style you haven't worn, and the odds are no one will recognize you, mainly because they won't be looking for you."

"And if someone should recognize me?"

"Not really a problem," interjected Jaclyn, "I've got a friend on one of the trade rags who will vouch that he was commissioning Darryl to do a feature article on roadies.

"OK, Darryl, here's the information you need, including when the buses will depart. It's a bit of a haul to Indianapolis, but the guys are usually good company. I think you'll find the experience, how shall I say it, eye-opening. For many performers, touring can be very addictive experience. It gives them a rush, like a drug that they can't do without. I have worked for some very old bands with members in their sixties, all millionaires, whose wives have long ago divorced them, estranged from family and friends because they just keep touring and touring, until finally, they can't find any venues that will sign them. That's why I am pleased and surprised that Courtney has given up such a powerful tour schedule for a personal life instead. More power to her. If nothing else, this experience will let you know exactly what she did give up for the sake of your future together. See you on the bus. I'm afraid the rooms will not be quite as nice as the ones you shared with Courtney, but the union sees that they're not too bad. Speaking of which, one last card for your local union shop steward; we're gonna sign you up. Having you as a union member will prevent a great many headaches.

The next morning, Darryl and Courtney lay in bed watching dawn over the lake. They always rose early to enjoy this special private time together. It was their time to talk about personal things, to express their love, their hope, their fears. It was often a time to make love. But it was always their time.

Darryl took her hands and looked at her. "Courtney, are you sure about your decision? Can you give up so much of your tour, and not miss it or resent me for causing you to sacrifice too much?"

Courtney hesitated a long time before answering. "Yes, I'm sure I want you, and I'm sure I will do whatever I have to, to make our relationship work." She paused and looked away from him, and then in a quieter voice continued, "I'm sure I will adjust to the shorter tour schedule."

Darryl gently reached around and pulled her face back towards his; there was the sign of a tear forming in the corner of each eye. "Courtney, are you really sure about this?"

She put her arms around him and laid her head on his chest. "Darryl, my love, what I am sure of is that I let you sacrifice everything for us and said nothing and gave nothing. I acted like I was too good to have to change or give anything to build a new relationship. Thank God, Robyn got through to me and made me realize that I was going to lose you and our future if I didn't start doing my share. This is my share. It is not going to be easy for me. I'm sure I'll feel a loss when that next touring season comes along. I'm not used to giving; I've lost the knack, because I haven't had to for a long time."

"Courtney, I don't mean for..."

"Shhh, Darryl," she soothed, "I know you would spare me any pain if you could. But I have to do this. I'll need your help and understanding while I relearn living in a world that's about us, not just about me. That's why I want you to be on stage one night, so you'll better understand how I feel."

"I'll try to see that one night through your eyes as much as I can."

Courtney laughed. "Oh, I doubt very much that you'll truly experience what I do, I think you would be in for a very big shock if you did. But I hope this will help you see why it will take me a little time to adjust, and why you should not take that personally."

"I don't understand."

"I know; that's why I want you to do this. For me."

They held each other for awhile, and then they kissed. Then their bodies took over communications from the mind and voice. Before long, they had begun the familiar dance of love. This time Courtney paused and whispered, "Darryl, I want to start learning how to give again, please. Let me make love to you this time."

She gently pushed him back on the bed, and she leaned over him and starting kissing his face, his shoulders, and his broad chest. Men are almost always surprised at how sensitive their nipples are, when anybody remembers to tweak them. She leaned over and sucked on a nipple and even nipped it gently with her teeth. She giggled at his obvious reaction. She realized that she hadn't taken over and teased him in... well she couldn't actually remember. Not that she was passive, not by any means, but when was the last time she'd worked at making it special for him? She couldn't remember. Had she really turned into a diva, even in their bedroom? She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer, but she vowed that this time was going to be different, this time he would be her sole focus, her whole world; this time would be all about Darryl.

She leaned over so that her breasts hung directly over his face. She began to tease him by dragging a nipple across his mouth, pulling it up and out of reach before he could capture it. The point of the game was to eventually lose, but by then, there would be much shared laughter. Darryl kept reaching for her, trying to pull her down onto him. It seemed unnatural for him to be the passive partner, for her to lavish attention on him, but she kept gently but firmly pushing him back to the bed. It reminded her once again how much she had come to take for granted that things were done for her, for her benefit, instead of by her, for others' benefit. And what was perhaps more disturbing; the people around her had come to take it for granted as well.

She straddled his legs at the knees and leaned forward to drag her fingertips across his manhood. With just this delicate touch, he came to full erection. She traced the tips of her breasts across his erect cock. He gave a little groan. She took him in her hands and slowly gave him a few tender strokes, more as a token of affection than anything else. For the same reason, she now took him briefly in her mouth, but this was not where she wanted him to spend his passion. It was proving somehow liberating to be able to focus completely on his pleasure.

Still straddling his legs, she inched forward, took his erection in her hand, and placed it in her portal. Then while maintaining eye contact, she sunk down, very slowly, impaling herself on his hard shaft. At first she went slowly because the limited foreplay had not made her as wet but quickly discovered that the increased friction also produced new sensations and a greater sense of contact between them. It was as though she could feel every vein along his cock, and she could tell from Darryl's eyes and reactions that he was experiencing the same thing. She reached for his hands, pulled them to her breasts, and then covered them with her own hands. She watched his face as she began moving up and down, riding their connection and helping him to massage her breasts. She found it somehow both exhilarating and liberating, for this one time, to be completely concentrating on Darryl's pleasure and not her own. Never before had she been as free to watch his excitement build towards, and finally into, a huge climax. She loved watching his face at that moment when his entire being seemed to be pulsing into her, and then holding his head between her breasts while he struggled to catch his breath. She kept him inside her as long as she could, squeezing him with her inner muscles in a desperate attempt to hold him inside her.

Courtney could have bet money, and won, on the first words out of his mouth. "Courtney, you didn't come. Let me take care of you."

"Shhh, it's all right Darryl, I wanted this time to be just for you.

PART 3. THE CONCERT

It was about the same time of day a little over a week later, when roadie Darryl Sanders was climbing off a bus outside the Market Square Arena in Indianapolis. He turned to his associate soundman and new friend, Bob Slater, "well, nothing like an early start."

"It's partially that it's a one-time TV special. On a regular road show with an experienced crew, it takes about five hours to set up a whole concert. That's lights, stage, sound, the whole package. So we'll usually start about eight hours before show time, giving us a three-hour cushion. Now here, you're setting up for a TV special, so you have to deal with the TV people, plus two other acts, so we have three setups instead of one. You end up getting an early start, just so there's time to deal with all these extra issues, even though we'll probably spend most of the time sitting on our hands."

"I don't know, Bob; there really doesn't seem to be that many of us to do all that."

Bob laughed. "If we roadies had to do all the work by ourselves, you'd be right. The good news is that for every roadie, there will be about four people from the local union helping. The idea is we know our sets, our lights, our sound system, and they know the facility."

"How does a partnership like that really work out in practice?"

"Usually pretty good, both groups are pros; they understand that ultimately, their livelihoods depend on each other. Problems are usually caused by individual assholes, just like anywhere. One thing I've seen happen, some roadies don't care who they work for. Other roadies have worked for the same performer for twenty years and develop a real loyalty and sense of identity. Well, there's always some member of the local who fancies himself a music critic, usually negative, who will loudly pan some performer in front of some of those long-time crew members. Result is, you have some pretty dandy fights break out backstage."

The entire day was spent with a small army who built the stage inside the arena, assembled towers of lights and speakers, and rigged lights in the ceiling. Electricians scrambled around wiring it all together and connecting it to the appropriate control consoles. And as everything was assembled and wired, it had to be tested. And once everything was finished, it all had to be tested together to make sure the sound and lighting could all be controlled. The setups for each of the three performances had to be checked, as each had a different sound and light scheme. And when all that was checked out, the television technical crew wanted to check their setup for each of the three performances. As Bob had predicted, there was just time for an early dinner break, before it was time for final checks.

Norm had told Darryl that he couldn't be on stage during the Dave Matthews Band, because all the sound mixers would be occupied, but he could if he wanted to during Mariah Carey, since her setup was similar to Courtney's. Darryl had declined, not wishing to intrude on another performer's show. He waited backstage until the final break, when Norm came by, "You ready?"

"I'm ready."

"So you think. You know where to go; good luck, Darryl." Norm Stapleton watched him climb onto the unlit stage. He wondered to himself if Darryl would return from the experience untouched.

Darryl made his way to the audio mix console located down stage left, as close to Courtney's microphone as anybody in the technical crew could sit. His controls were positioned so that he was in effect looking directly over her shoulder at the audience. His control sliders had the same dim orange glow as all the others, only his didn't control anything. His eyes scanned over the audience, dim but visible without the bright stage lighting. Darryl would have found it very difficult to estimate the size of the crowd, but he knew that the audience was sold out at around 18,000 people. He tried to make some sort of sense out of that number, 18,000, that was almost four times the size of the student body of his alma mater, Princeton, larger than many small towns. He knew that the majority had come to see Courtney, although there were two other acts. He knew tickets had been scalped for up to several hundred dollars. He knew that people had spent the night outside the ticket window waiting in line.

Why had they come? To hear her? No, despite the huge speakers, half the time she would be drowned out by the audience, and these sports arenas don't have great acoustics. No, if you wanted to hear her, it would be cheaper to buy a CD and a good set of stereo earphones.

To see her? No, this concert was being telecast nationwide. You'd be able to see her much better by staying home and watching television than you ever would by coming to the concert, especially if you're sitting way back in the bleachers.

Why have they come? The only answer is to be here, to be here with her. A little chill went up Darryl's spine when the implications sank in.

Suddenly the lights snapped on; even though they were carefully aimed to avoid hitting the areas where the technical crew sat, Darryl felt the brilliant light. 18,000 voices started cheering; the sound hit like a tidal wave. Darryl didn't hear; he FELT 18,000 voices screaming adoration. The sound kept coming in waves, pouring across the stage, the sounds of happiness and joy and exuberance. Was it even adoration? Worship?)

Just as he was adjusting to the level of sound and finding it just bearable, it suddenly swelled, becoming impossibly louder, as though the original sound had been the merest warm-up. Out of the corner of his eye he first saw her, his beloved Courtney; she practically floated across a stage, drawn to the very sound that he found almost intolerable,

"Courtney, Courtney, Courtney, Courtney." The crowd chanted in such perfect unison, it was as though they had practiced.

He found himself feeling a little sense of jealousy and even a little tinge of violation, as though he questioned whether all these strangers had a right to be on such a familiar first name basis with his intended. He realized that was a strange thought. He'd been to many concerts and heard and even participated in the chant. Why was he thinking such strange thoughts now, and then he realized what had changed. He hadn't known then that these seemingly harmless concerts were rivals for her affection. Very dangerous rivals. His feelings for the concerts had changed, just as any man's feelings toward a friend would change, if he realized that friend was in love with his wife.

But worse, not only did he have a rival; she was responding to his rival. He looked at Courtney; as she looked out over the screaming fans her face had the kind of joy and ecstasy,, that he would only see in her eyes for that few precious seconds at the end of a long and perfect session of making love,. Courtney turned to each side, acknowledging her fans with her arms outstretched and a warm glowing smile. When she turned towards Darryl, their eyes met; he gave her an encouraging smile, and she looked right through him. He was absolutely sure; her eyes had met his, and she had looked directly at him, but he was not there, because she was somewhere else. Somewhere he didn't exist. Cold, naked despair gripped his heart, just like he had experienced that awful time when he'd received the note from her.

The concert began, and he hoped he might feel better, but it only got worse. Someone not in touch with her feelings might have missed it all and felt nothing different from sitting out in front watching a concert, but Darryl and Courtney had a special and very sensitive bond, and he could often feel what she felt. What he felt was a great deal of love flowing in that huge arena. Love the 20,000 people were shouting to her, and love that she was singing back to 20,000, with the special ability she had to make it personal for each and every one.

Darryl realized, that unlike himself, Courtney had found someone else in the form of a love affair with millions of fans who could carry her to a place he could not go. In fact, he began to feel very uncomfortable sitting on the stage, as though he had accidentally walked in on her in bed with another lover and now was being forced to watch. It was a voyeur experience that he found anything but arousing. In fact he was finding it hopelessly discouraging. If his rival had been another man, there would always been the hope that he could compete and win her back. But what could he offer her that would replace the love and adoration of millions? What could he offer to replace the love that supported her, back in those years when he wasn't there? He understood that the kind of love the audiences gave was also incomplete, and that Courtney might want and need love on a human scale too, to have someone to hold in bed and start a family with. But that someone would have to be someone who could share her, and he could not. He never could settle for being half of her life.

Darryl watched each song with blacker despair gripping his heart, every moment only increasing the certainty that he had no hope of avoiding the one fate he'd never allowed for, her unfaithfulness, however unintentional. It was as though he was being cuckolded song by song. By intermission he could bear no more. Apologizing to Bob, he made his way off the darkened stage, found Norm and apologized. "Norm, I'm sorry; I've got to go catch a flight home. I hope that doesn't create any problems for you."

"You go on, Darryl; I'm sorry it was unpleasant for you. I was afraid it might be, but thought you ought to experience it anyway. Good luck to you. I wish you the best." Norm watched until Darryl was out of sight and then he took out a cell phone.

PART 4. DARRYL'S NOTE

Darryl caught the first available flight home and took a cab back to the lake house. He had debated a note versus face to face. He really hated the idea of a note, but he wasn't sure he could handle seeing her and having to say what he needed to say. He felt like a coward, but maybe that was best. If she hated him, well, that would help her move on. It didn't take him long to load everything into the jeep. Then he sat down at the desk and started to write.

My Dearest Courtney, 

I'm saying this final farewell in a note, only to spare us both the pain of saying it yet again in words. Better that our last memory is making love, and I will carry with me the warmth of your body, not the coldness of your tears.

I will always miss the chance to have raised a family and grown old with you, but I will always be grateful for the time we had together. You are so very special; I know, for me, there can never be another.

But I finally understand that you were fortunate enough to find another to love, millions to love. You have reached out and created a very special bond with all who love your music and come, twenty thousand at a time, to shout their love for you, while you sing your love to them. And their love sustained you during all the years when I was but a memory. It is their love that brought you back from what your father took, not mine. So, I have no right to come between you and your devoted fans, and all the love they bring you. And now that I understand how much it means to you, how it creates a special place you need, I can't take that away... 

That's as far as he got, when a familiar voice behind him said very gently. "No, Darryl, no notes. I wrote a note and spent ten years thinking about all of the things I didn't say. Don't say a word tonight; it's very late; we're both tired. Just hold me; we'll talk tomorrow."

"How did you... ?"

"Get here so quickly? Darryl, don't you think I knew what you would probably experience tonight? That's why it was important. I had the plane waiting. Now come to bed my love.



-------

Chapter 8: We Need To Have That Talk Now - May, 1996

Part 1: You Should Have Let Me Leave the Note

Unable to think of anything to say Darryl was suddenly ashamed and embarrassed, both by the contents of the note, which he knew she could infer, and for his cowardice in choosing to write a note at all. He crumpled the note and threw it in the trash and just sat there until he felt Courtney gently put her hand on his shoulder. When he turned around his eyes were downcast until she took his chin and raised his face towards her. Along with sadness, he saw understanding and love in her eyes, but no anger.

She took his hand. "Come with me Darryl, don't try to speak now, we'll talk tomorrow, just come to bed with me."

He followed her wordlessly, once again totally mystified by the subtleties and mysteries of the feminine heart. He would have expected questions, recriminations, hysterics even, but this gentle handling, almost coddling surprised him. Could Courtney had planned this whole thing knowing the emotional trauma the concert might bring him? In the bedroom he stood passively as she gently undressed him and then took him in her arms kissing him warmly though not passionately or seductively. She lifted the corner of the bedding and silently urged him into the bed. She went to her usual side of the bed and standing directly facing him, looking straight into his eyes, began to disrobe. It was something less than a striptease but certainly more than merely undressing for bed. Despite the awkwardness of the situation Darryl's body still responded and the tenting in the bedding brought a slight smile to her lips.

Courtney climbed into the bed and slid herself over to be in direct contact with Darryl. She rolled over on her side as though she were studying him until finally she leaned over and gave him another warm and loving but not provocative kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of love and trust and hope rather than sex and passion. On breaking the kiss she cradled his head in her arms and pulled him to her breast. The softness and warmth of a woman's breast drew the fear and despair from him, replacing it with primordial comfort. His lips sought the nipple and he gently began to suckle using programming buried deep in his brain since birth. She responded with maternal instincts that were her birthright, and stroked his troubled brow while making gentle soothing sounds. It was now well into the early morning after a long and exhausting day and after a very short time they both were sound asleep, Darryl still at her breast.

A few hours later Courtney awoke to the dawn light from the lake streaming into their bedroom. She sat up on one elbow and watched Darryl sleeping wondering what this day would bring. Was this to be the end of all their dreams? The bright dawn light reflecting off the lake awoke him as well and his first sight on opening his eyes was her looking at him.

"Courtney, I'm sorry."

She placed a finger across his lips. "No my love, nobody's done anything to be sorry about yet. No one is hurt. Before that can change I want to make love. I want to make love not tainted by fears of what may happen in the future but only based on our love. Can we still do that?"

"Yes, I believe we can, I'd like to try."

"And Darryl, don't misunderstand, this is not like the condemned prisoner's last meal. I want to do this to celebrate my faith in our future together, my faith that we have a future together, not to mourn the end."

Darryl did not respond beyond a supportive smile. In his deepest thoughts, he didn't share in her optimistic outlook, although he wanted to cling to some hope even now. Fortunately, she didn't seem inclined to push him.

Courtney jumped out of bed and took Darryl's hand. "Come on. Let's start with a shower. We'll wash each other's backs."

Darryl began by shampooing Courtney's long beautiful hair. Like most women, she loved to have her hair handled, and he loved doing it for her. Then they took turns bathing each other by hand, taking time to rediscover their bodies and to enjoy the simple pleasures of touching. They embraced just to enjoy the special feel of skin to skin contact enhanced by the slippery surface of soap and water. She especially enjoyed capturing one of his legs between hers and then sliding up and down his wet upper thigh to excite her labia and clitoris. At the same time she would use the intermittent contact of her leg to massage his erection. She put her arms around his neck and pulled them together for a kiss and her breasts into his chest where the water allowed her fully erect nipples to slide freely around his chest. He lowered his mouth to capture a nipple between his lips and nip the sensitive bud with his teeth. Then he turned her around cradling her back to his front so he could reach around and fondle both breasts. She laid her head back next to his while she reached behind herself to stroke his flanks. She pressed back against his cock using a slow grinding motion of her hips to keep him stimulated and erect. They danced this silent dance until Courtney suddenly swung around directly into a kiss. She came with open soft lips but reluctance on his, her lips and tongue laid and patient siege until he responded and the kiss finally gained the passion worthy of a pair of lovers.

"Want me here?" she asked, "Or do you want to hold out for a bed?"

"I want you right now but I think I'll wait. I'm feeling a little waterlogged."

They exited the shower and leisurely dried each other with the decadently thick spa towels. They wrapped up in spa robes made of the same material and Darryl tenderly brushed the tangles out of her hair. Few words were exchanged since both were very aware that the thread connecting them was at this moment very fragile, but neither was quite ready to be the one to snap it. There still was, and always would be, their long shared history of a tender love so caring touches and caresses remained comfortable and natural. Less certain was whether they still were, or would for very long be, lovers so the intimacies that lovers share were less comfortable.

They lay together on their bed beginning their familiar dance of love, but today the rhythm was off as Courtney's desperate need to prove that everything was normal had her pulling ahead just as Darryl's fear that things were far from normal had him holding back. The tension resulted in their usually graceful choreography of love being replaced by a herky-jerky facsimile which had all of the same motions but lacked the fire and passion that made them real. They both would have preferred to finish this little drama if only to postpone once again facing the crisis in their relationship, but this was not to be. The whole house of cards was pulled down by the most often maligned of all human organs, the penis. A troublemaker of an organ, yes, sometimes without conscience, always without intelligence, but never dishonest. Men can, and often do lie to women with their lips, but whatever opinion is expressed from the groin is honest and dependable. This is why men are never accused of faking orgasms. And this is why Darryl found himself incapable of maintaining an erection long enough to consummate an act of love with Courtney. No matter how much he might want to lie to himself, or they might lie to each other, that most honest of organs wasn't buying it and didn't care who knew it. Finally, in a mixture of embarrassment and frustration they rolled apart and lay beside each other on the bed. For a few moments there was silence.

Finally Courtney spoke. "I guess we need to have that talk now."

"Yes, I think so."

They got dressed in silence without making eye contact, both dreading what was coming.

"Darryl, look at me, I'm not the enemy. We have some serious problems, maybe even problems we can't solve. But please don't let that take away all we've meant to each other for so many years. I love you and always will."

He did look and saw the gleam of tears in her eyes. "And I will always love you." And he took her hand as they walked to the lake. There was never a question of where they would talk. It was a constant in their relationship that all serious discussions and events would occur here. And if it was to come to it, their relationship would end here, where it began with a kiss, and a promise, yet unfulfilled. For several minutes, they sat on the dock silently, neither wanting to be the one to start.

Finally Darryl turned to her. "Why Courtney, why did you want me to experience the concert in that way?"

"I just wanted you to know what it was like for me, what it meant to me."

"But why? So I would know that you could never give it up? That our relationship has no chance at all?"

"I already said that I would cut back like you asked, I've already agreed to give it up for you."

"Courtney, I was on that stage, I saw you with my own eyes. I felt that crowd. You can't give up touring; it would be like cutting out your heart. What you get from being on that stage, nothing else can give you. No one can replace that. I can't ask you to give that up!"

"I'm at least willing to try."

"I really think you would. But if you did and we were to get married, you would harbor somewhere deep in your heart such a resentment, such a feeling of loss. The first time we had a serious fight or our marriage was under stress, it would all come out. You would be so bitter you would hate me over the price you had to pay. No marriage could survive such a burden."

"You mean you aren't willing to take a risk."

"I mean I'm not willing to have us spend a couple years of our lives setting ourselves up for an even bigger hurt."

"Why are you so certain now that we can't make it?"

"Courtney, look at me, I'm just a man, a man that loves you, but just one man. I can't fill the void left by millions of devoted fans who come out 20,000 at a time to scream their love to you. I can't transport you to that place where they can. I saw you look right through me Courtney. I saw the expression on your face. I don't know where you were but you were not on that stage with me. I can't let you give them up and pretend that I can replace them because I can't."

"You've always been jealous of my music, Darryl but my fans are not rivals for my affection. That's entirely different."

"Is it? I'm not so sure. In terms of demands on your time and attention certainly they are rivals. I think you underestimate how much they fill your emotional needs. When I travel with you on tour, I notice we seldom make love and you come to me much less for emotional support and affection. I thought at first that it was just your busy schedule, but the more I observed the more I realized that it was more a case of your needing me less."

Anger clouded her face now and added a sharp tone to her voice. "I think you are being unfair now. I'm proud of my career; I worked hard to build up my fans. But I damned sure didn't do it to replace you Darryl. You weren't even around and I didn't know if I would ever see you again. What did you expect me to do? Not start a career just in case you showed up?"

"Of course not. But that is the point isn't it. We're trying to build a relationship based on promises and expectations made long ago and fit it into lives built in a decade apart. There is no guarantee that can be done. It is as though you had found another love to take my place, and that love, the love of your fans and your music has been there to nurture you and sustain you for years when I was just a memory. Maybe there have been too many changes in your life. Maybe you have changed too much to have a place for me."

Courtney's anger rose, her face was showing color, and tension showed in her jaw and neck. "My life, changes in me? God damn you Darryl! You want to put this all on me? Make it my fault if we split up? You're the one giving up and leaving, not me! Yes maybe my life did change. Yes, I built a successful career. Sorry, that you can't handle that. Maybe that's your problem not mine. You're just not man enough to not be jealous of my success. I guess Aubrey was right after all, childhood sweethearts, like childhood toys and other childish things should be put away when we grow up. Maybe I just grew up Darryl and you really are just something left from my childhood."

Darryl was now visibly angry too. "Oh you grew up alright, you grew up into a selfish egotistical prima-dona bitch who thinks the universe needs to orbit around your pretty little ass, because everything is always all about you."

SMACK! Courtney slapped him across the cheek so hard his head snapped back. They both were stunned, so out of character was the act, for a few seconds neither moved or spoke.

Darryl broke the silence; the anger in voice had been replaced by resignation as he quietly said, "You should have let me leave the note it was a lot better way to say goodbye."

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Part 2: I Would Fix It If I Could

Without another word, even a simple farewell, Darryl turned and headed for his jeep still packed from the night before. He never looked back. Courtney watched him first angry, then with a mixture of disbelief and panic, frozen in place, unable to find her voice or even move.

By the time she was able to shout, "Darryl, please stop, don't go, I'm sorry, please don't leave me!" It was far too late. He was already in the jeep and pulling away from the house. He never heard her. Nor is it at all certain what he would have done if he had. They were both sailing uncharted seas now. The certainty that their love and their relationship was for life was such an article of faith with both of them that they had no contingency plan to fall back on. Being apart again was something that was never supposed to happen. Being apart forever was not even included in their universe. He had a place to go to, and a reason to go there. The year had not hurt him professionally and he would be able get right back into his career. Right now, he wanted, no, needed, to get back in so deep that he would bury the pain under work. He knew just the person to help him get the kind of assignment, and was heading there, as fast as he thought he could drive and still talk the local constabulary out of a ticket.

Courtney watched the jeep disappear through tear-filled eyes. As she began to understand the implications of what had happened, all the information she had to process was too much for her. She collapsed on the pier unconscious. Karl, who spotted her collapse on the security monitor, ran to the pier and gently cradled her head until she came to. She looked around for a moment, recognized Karl, then broke into heart-rending sobs.

"Oh Karl," "I totally fucked up everything. I was trying so hard to make things work between us and I slapped him. Can you fucking believe I slapped him? Now he's gone. He's not coming back. I slapped him, what a fucking idiot I am. I made him leave. Oh Karl, what am I going to do?"

In all the years he had worked for Courtney, he had never once heard her curse, let alone use the "f" word; now suddenly her language would embarrass the 2nd Mate on a garbage scow. He tried to calm her which was difficult because he believed she was right. After the experiences of he last few days, he didn't expect to ever see Darryl again. He also realized that this was exactly what she didn't need to hear.

"Shh, it'll be alright, it's just a little spat. You guys are meant to be together. It'll all work out."

Maybe it was the words, and maybe it was just the tone of his voice, but this soothed her slightly. As she clung to his arm and continued to cry Karl motioned one of his men over. "Call Jaclyn to meet me in the master suite. Tell her to call Dr. Browning, make sure she understands to call Dr. Browning. Contact the main gate; nobody other than regulars comes in except the Doctor, and absolutely repeat absolutely no press, got it."

"Yes sir, Jaclyn, Browning, put a lid on."

Karl picked Courtney up and carried her back to the master suite where he gently laid her on the bed. She rolled over, grabbed the pillow, and continued to sob. Karl Jager was a man of many talents; he was a top security man, a competitive triathlon athlete, and fit enough to carry 120 lbs. of female 100 yds. to get her here, but when it came to dealing with a woman crying of a broken heart, his abilities were like all men's... essentially nonexistent. He was greatly relieved when the door opened and a distraught looking Jaclyn came in.

"O.K. Karl, tell me what's going on here. What happened to Courtney? Is she alright?"

"Physically, I think so, emotionally you tell me. That's why I suggested Dr. Browning. Being a psychiatrist she is a MD and she can check her out physically as well as emotionally. There's the gender thing too, you know."

"Yes I do know, you guys don't do emotions. Don't think I didn't see the relief in your face when I showed up to take this crying female off your hands. I'll get the whole story from her eventually but tell me what you know."

"Not much really, I saw the whole thing on a security monitor but of course I couldn't hear anything. They came out and walked out to the pier. They seemed to be friendly enough, even holding hands, but I noticed they weren't their usual 'get-a-room' kind of friendly. They talked for a while and I noticed that their body language indicated they were pulling apart, so I figured whatever they were talking about, wasn't going too well. Courtney looked hot about something And Darryl looked like he was trying to calm her; at least he didn't look as angry. I guess it didn't work because suddenly she hauled off and slapped the shit out of him. I'm talking a roundhouse, trying to take his head off his shoulders slap."

"What did Darryl do when she slapped him?"

"Not much, he just stood there for a second, said something, then walked to his jeep and drove off. He never even looked back, not once. She just collapsed suddenly like a puppet with all her strings cut at once. I ran down to the pier held her until she came around cussing like a gunnery sergeant."

"Courtney cussing, that's unusual right there. Well you go on Karl, I'll take over here. You go try to keep us out of the papers.

Jaclyn went in and sat on the edge of the bed. She took Courtney's hand and held it. "Courtney, it's Jaclyn, I'm going to stay with you as long as you need me. If you want to talk, I'm here."

For a while nothing happened, Courtney just continued to sob into her pillow while Jaclyn held her hand, made soothing sounds, and gently rubbed the back of her neck. Finally Courtney rolled over and looked at her friend. "Oh Jaclyn, I wanted so much to make things right, but instead I called him a childhood toy and slapped him. I fucked up everything and he's gone. Oh Jaclyn, fix things for me, please. You always do."

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Part 3: Do you Have Any Hot Assignments?

James McNicol's mountain home was a little too fancy to call a cabin and maybe a little rustic to call a house but it was built on the edge of a cliff with a view like you usually see on an Audubon calendar. There was smoke rising from the chimney and James's serious looking jeep parked in the driveway so Darryl figured he was home. He crossed the wooden porch to knock but before he could touch the door the familiar booming voice of his mentor called out "Come in Darryl, I've been expecting you."

The interior was neat as a pin, walls lined with low book cases and covered with many of his fabulous photographs. A fireplace added a warm and cozy feel.Everything was Unmistakably masculine; the total lack of feminine touches attested to James lifelong bachelor status. Many women had aspired to be Mrs. McNicol, and James was generous with his auditions, particularly in the bedroom, yet somehow he remained single. The story was that the love of his life was one that could never be, but he would honor that love by never marrying another.

It brought back wonderful memories of the weeks Darryl had spent here after graduation learning the art and craft of photography. The time was a graduation gift from his adopted Grandparents, the Kedricks, and certainly no one ever received a grander gift. It in no small part launched his career.

"Well Darryl, I could almost say you are late. I thought you might be up here last night but at least you made it this morning."

"My question is how you knew I was coming at all? I didn't call you, and no one was suppoed to know where I was going."

"I fear, like Sherlock Holmes, that by revealing my methods I will make them commonplace. Last time we talked, I knew that you and Courtney were in serious trouble. Then you told me about Courtney's bizarre idea of having you watch a concert over her shoulder. I'm not sure what she was trying to accomplish, and I'll bet dollars to Aunt Sarah's bloomers, she wasn't sure either. Knowing you already viewed her touring as a rival for her affections, I figured making you a participant in one of those mutual admiration orgies they pass off as a musical event would be like making you climb in bed and watch. So I reckoned that would be the deal breaker and you'd come screaming out of there. After a breakup, women head for their girlfriends so they can spend hours discussing why all men are pigs. Then they can't wait to start choosing which pig they are going to fix her up with. Men either climb in a bottle or bury themselves in work. Since I don't see you as the bottle type, you've got to be looking for a really tough assignment, something that'll give you a shot at another Pulitzer and will keep you so busy just trying to stay alive that you won't have time to even think about Courtney Archer. How am I doing?

"Bravo, Sherlock, that's dead spot on, every word of it. So do you have any hot assignments?"

"Oh sure, there's never a shortage of violence and war. Take your choice, let's see the Taliban will probably control Kabul by the fall. There's a good place, neither the government nor the Taliban like Americans or journalists very much, bandits, clan fighting, just about everybody you meet is probably willing to slit your throat or any given day. Then there's Rwanda, Zaire, Hutu refugee camps, plenty of pathos there. And violence, tribal warriors operating on medieval rules packing shoulder fired missiles and modern assault rifles. It provides a very volatile and unpredictable mix with plenty of great pictures and ways to get killed there as well.

"So which one are you going to let me have James?"

"I'm not sure I'll let you have either one Darryl."

"Don't you think I'm good enough, hell you trained me."

"You're good enough, none better as far as I'm concerned. I'm concerned about where your head is."

"I don't understand."

"Darryl, I've been doing this a long time, through a couple wars and a lot of things that weren't called wars but had people were shooting at each other and sometimes me. Staying alive takes all your wits, all your desire to live, all your attention and luck. You can't do much about luck. One day you and a bullet may just cross paths and nothing you could have done in the way of alertness, skill, savvy, would make a difference. That's a risk we all take, but most guys who take a bullet don't just have bad luck, they weren't quite alert enough, they lost concentration, or maybe life wasn't quite as important, quite as precious. You see, that's the real nasty part of a Dear John letter to a soldier. It's not losing the girl. Odds are he would've lost interest anyway. It's just that an awful lot of Dear John recipients don't make if alive through the next few days, either because their mind is on the contents of that letter not on the guy with the rifle grenade on the rooftop across the street. Or else they're out to win a medal to show her what a mistake she's made. Guy's out to win a medal usually get them posthumously."

"So you think I..."

"Hell I know your motivation is coming from a broken heart. You drove straight the fuck here from breaking up with her loaded up with testosterone, pawing the ground wanting me to send you to the hottest trouble spot on the planet. Goddamit Darryl you haven't covered a bar fight in the last year, you've been doing fucking glamour shots and album covers. So you storm in here breathing fire and announcing you want to win a Pulitzer while bullets fly all around you and you're going to pretend it doesn't have anything to do with what that concert did to your head? Give me a break Darryl, I taught you how to hold a camera for Christ sake, so don't piss on my leg and tell me it's rain."

Darryl sat down and didn't say anything. James tossed him a beer, and he drank it down. Finally he looked up. "O.K. James, you're right, I was reacting to the hurt and it would have probably gotten me killed. But I do have to get into something tough and gritty that I can concentrate on. Courtney and I are done, history. I need to close that chapter and move on with my life but how the hell do I get away from the most popular singer on the damn planet. I won't be able to turn on the radio without hearing her, pick up a magazine without reading about her, drive without seeing her on a billboard. I need to go to where Courtney Archer doesn't exist for a while and I need to bite off something tough enough to make me focus."

James looked at him as though weighing his soul. Finally he sighed and ran his fingers through his long hair.

"What you just said sounds better but I'm still not sure about this. Darryl, I'm fond of you and I feel a certain responsibility towards you. I promised the Kedricks I would try to keep an eye out for you. I'm not sure they would approve of this... not even sure if I approve... here's the deal, take it or leave it. You go to the Afghan war with me. When I tell you to keep your head down, you keep your fucking head down. When I tell you a situation is too dangerous, you stand down, no hero bullshit. If at any time I decide you are not thinking 100% with your brain and not with your dick or your poor broken heart, I send you home and you go home, no argument. If you can't agree to those terms tell me now because if you fuck me over later, our friendship and professional association is done. Is that clear enough?"

"Crystal clear James, and under the circumstances more than fair. I accept your terms. You should know James that there is nothing I value higher than our friendship."

"You better get some sleep then Darryl; we're leaving in the morning."

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Part 4: I Love You Courtney

Dr. Carol Browning was sitting in the living room of the master suite sipping tea with Jaclyn.

"How is she Dr. Browning?"

"Physically she is fine, exhausted from crying, she's finally sleeping now."

"And emotionally?"

"It's really too early to tell how she will handle this. Obviously this was a very long term, very important relationship. She had made a huge emotional investment in it and at the moment she is in total despair that it may be finished. That is a very big emotional hit. The fact that no one is to blame, in a way, makes it worse."

"I don't follow."

"If she had, for example caught Darryl in bed with another woman, her anger might actually make the loss of the relationship easier to take. In this case, both of them have been faithful, almost too faithful, and they have tried very hard to make the relationship work. This actually makes their failure all the more painful."

"What will happen now?"

"You've been around girlfriends with broken hearts before. It's going to be the same only worse because of the seriousness and the length of the relationship. She will grieve and gradually heal. It will probably be a long time before she will be ready to try another serious relationship. She may just choose to bury herself in her career instead. That's somewhat more common in men, but far from rare in women. She may require counseling; it's just too soon to tell."

"Any medications?"

"I think not, I going to leave you this mild sedative. Use it if she gets too caught up in anxiety or agitation but I doubt you will need it. These are to help her sleep it she has trouble. More likely, it will help if she has a close friend that can sleep with her for a few nights. She is used to having someone in the bed and until she adjusts she may experience panic if she wakes up alone.

"I can take care of that, we were room mates for many years and are comfortable together."

"Excellent.

Jaclyn moved clothes and toiletries into the master suite and never left Courtney's side. She spooned with her every night so that she would not miss human warmth as she slept. In the day time she pampered and distracted her until the crying spells became shorter and shorter and finally stopped. The fourth night when Jaclyn came to bed Courtney took her hands,

"Jaclyn, I can never thank you enough for your devotion and kindness these last few days. I don't think I could have made it without you. But I'm a big girl and I'll have to get used to being on my own. I think after tonight I should sleep alone. I'm not sure I'll ever learn to like it but it may be the rest of my life and I have to get used to it. I've imposed on you long enough."

Jaclyn looked down avoiding her eyes "It hasn't been an imposition Courtney, I've enjoyed being close to you again. Please don't send me away. Sometimes I've been just a little jealous because I don't feel like I've had as much time with you this last year."

Courtney put her hand under Jaclyn's chin and brought her face up until they were eye to eye. "What are you trying to say to me Jaclyn? We go back a long way and we've always been honest with each other so let's keep it honest."

"Courtney, I've been attracted to you physically for a long time, probably as long as I've known you, but I think your being with Darryl made me a little jealous and brought it out."

"I didn't know you liked girls, Jaclyn, are you bi or is it just women?"

"No, well I don't think so; I don't know... I've never been with a woman. I've never been attracted to any other woman but you. I definitely like men. I think I could really fall for Karl but... but I'm all confused."

"It's not that unusual Jaclyn, I read somewhere that only about 85% of women and about 75% of men are exclusively heterosexual. You could be in love with Karl and attracted to me at the same time."

"But what do you think about me now? Do you think less of me? Have I offended you?"

"Oh no Jaclyn, I'm flattered, and right now I need to have some one find me desirable. I've actually been with women a few times before, and while it was physically fun, I never built an emotional connection to those women. You are my best friend Jaclyn. I like you very much and I think you are beautiful."

"Courtney, now I need to know what you are saying to me. I don't want to make a mistake and damage our friendship"

Courtney paused for a moment then took her friend's head in her hands and brought her lips to hers. Their first kiss was soft and open and very warm.

"Jaclyn, I am saying that I need to feel loved right now and if you want to explore these feelings you have for me, I am willing to explore them with you."

After another deep kiss, they both lifted their nightgowns over their heads and tossed them on the foot of the bed. They looked at each other as though for the first time. In fact, they had often seen each other nude but now they were seeing each other as lovers and the feelings were very different.

Courtney spoke first, as she reached out almost shyly caressing Jaclyn's small but shapely breast. "I never really took the time to appreciate just how lovely you really are."

"I confess, I have looked at you in a sexual way, luckily unlike the poor guys I didn't have an erection to give me away although I sometimes got so wet I'm surprised you didn't smell me. Courtney, this first time, since I am the instigator can I make love to you? You just lay back and I will do everything."

"Uhh, it sounds yummy actually, so yes, as long as I have the option to return the favor"

Jaclyn reached up and kissed Courtney, this time sending her tongue to explore. Kissing was one place Jaclyn realized that there was a huge difference making love to another woman, the softness of the lips, the smoothness of the lipstick, the, quite honestly, greater interest in kissing for its own sake. So with nothing but time, the two spent considerable time just on kissing before they really began to move on to more. Jaclyn gently laid Courtney's head down. She went to the bathroom and returned with several large bath towels and some scented massage oil. She spread the towels out and had Courtney lay face down on them. Jaclyn had taken some massage classes in college and had never lost her skills. After the traumas of the last few days, she felt that Courtney would respond to a massage. She was right.

Jaclyn started on her shoulders and immediately Courtney began to make little moans as tension was released. By the time she had worked down to her shapely posterior Courtney had opened her legs in a less than subtle invitation, not accepted, to venture beyond her cheeks. The fragrance of womanly essence left little doubt of her excitement. Finishing the back, Jaclyn had her turn over. She started again at the shoulders but when she got to Courtney's beautiful breasts, she leaned over and used her mouth as well as her hands, gently licking and nipping at the sensitive flesh. As soon as she started suckling on the nipple, Courtney let out a prolonged hiss and placing her hands on Jaclyn's head held her to the breast as though she never intended to release her. That is, until she urged her friend to perform the same on the companion nipple.

The massage proceeded down the belly but bypassed the groin, to the frustration of Courtney, who thrust her pelvis towards the elusive hand as though she could chase if down. But Jaclyn would not be hurried as she massaged down the leg and spent considerable time on the feet and the toes eliciting some grateful sighs despite the wish to get the teasing hands back to the promised land. When at last the hands returned to where Courtney most desired them, the massage actually ended as Jaclyn had no wish to contaminate the natural taste with massage oil. She crawled between Courtney's legs and used the backs of her hands to gently spread her legs until the inner lips opened revealing the almost translucent pink interior and releasing the enticing perfume of feminine arousal. Jaclyn took a few moments just to admire this perfectly formed example of womanhood.

Courtney broke the silence. "Finding anything you like?"

"Oh yes, everything, everything looks delicious, I could just eat it up."

"Well then, bon appétit."

Jaclyn drew in closer and inhaled the scent of her essence. It was tangy but fresh and very seducing. She extended her tongue and licked between the inner lips where her precious fluid was trickling out. It tasted just as it smelled, tangy, fresh and seducing, and she wanted more, much more. She used her fingers to gently opened her as one would open the petals of a flower. Again her tongue passed through and this time Courtney responded with a "Yesssssssss, Oh Yesssssssssss". And a just noticeable quiver. Again the tongue passed through only this time it just kissed the top on the still hooded clitoris. The volume of the verbal response and the size of the tremor went up another notch. On the next pass, the tongue passed over the hood and on the return just touched the little nub cowering under it. "Oh my God Yessssssss" this time delivered at full volume along with a real spasm. This pass the tongue passed by on the left and the response to this tease was a plaintive whimper. The next time, Courtney raised her pelvis to meet the tongue demanding satisfaction which was granted in the first full stroke across the clitoris and the response was commensurate with the stimulus.

"Oh Jaclyn, please make me come, I need to so bad, please let me."

Courtney's pain and frustration were demanding release. She wanted an orgasm and she needed it now. Jaclyn understood frustration so she immediately stopped all teasing. She placed her lips directly over the clitoris as though it were another nipple and sucked on it gently, knowing how easy this was to overdo. Courtney's back arched off the bed and she screamed her release as she experienced her orgasm, a big one. Jaclyn withdrew temporarily and moved up to stimulate her breasts while she recovered. Courtney grabbed her and kissed her tasting herself on Jaclyn's face. She licked Jaclyn's lips. "I rather like how I taste."

"So do I."

They kissed until Jaclyn judged the time right and she kissed her way back down to between Courtney's legs again. Everything was even wetter and more sensitive than before but Jaclyn understood that this night was all about release of tension not about slow give and take love making. Courtney had been under incredible stress and tonight Jaclyn was opening the safety valves. She was going to build her up once more and this time push on through orgasm after orgasm until Courtney passed out or hollered uncle. So she started once again laving gently with her tongue across the entire labia only hinting at touching the clit until the lips opened like a flower and the clitoris revealed itself. Then she attacked the strategic little nub itself while Courtney's fingernails tried to tear holes in the sheets, and her head tossed back and forth. "Oh Yess, don't stop, don't ever stop, more, more, YESSSS." As spasm after spasm twisted her body. Jaclyn once again put her lips directly over the clit and used suction to draw it out to it's full height and then ever so gently she nipped it with her teeth. "HOLY MOTHER OF GOD I'M COMING, I'VE NEVER FELT LIKE THIS" Jaclyn swore that Courtney levitated completely off the bed and Courtney did not deny it but in any case she ended sprawled unconscious for several seconds.

She slowly came to and smiled at Jaclyn. "That was wonderful but no more, I couldn't stand more tonight. Just hold me while we sleep."

And so the two long time friends and business partners and now lovers cuddled their nude bodies together. Just before sleep overtook them Jaclyn placed her lips by Courtney's ear and whispered. "Courtney, I love you."

"I know Jaclyn, I love you too."



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Chapter 9: This Pain Will Turn to Good By and By-May'96


this pain will turn to good by and by. (Ovid) - May, 1996

Athens, Greece Early Evening

"At Athens, wise men propose, and fools dispose." Alcuin




James and Darryl planned to take full advantage of an overnight stop in Athens, before going on to the alcohol-free and more restrictive environment of the Moslem countries. Used to the local custom, they both took naps in their rooms until 9:00 PM. They dressed casually and headed out to a taverna that James had frequented for many years for a fashionably-late dinner. Greek nightlife starts late and ends when everyone goes home. The government once tried to dictate a 4:00 AM closing and was all but run out of office. The subject has not come up again.

They had just entered the lively taverna when a female voice shouted over the boisterous crowd, "James, James McNichol, over here, Sugar; join us."

They looked toward the sound and found a table with two men and one woman. Darryl saw recognition in James's eyes, although not complete delight at running into the trio. The woman was slight of build, but attractive and vivacious in a way that made you think that an evening with her would be anything but dull. One of the men looked Spanish and a little world-weary, as though he needed a long rest. The other was neat and prim in a way that practically shouted British before he opened his mouth. James brought Darryl over and made the introductions.

"I would like you to meet the extraordinary Ms. Cheryl Woodson, photographer, who is working for whom, Time?"

"Correct, plus USA Today and some others." She replied in an accent that came from somewhere south of Atlanta. It was so syrupy sweet that on some women, it would have been comical, but on her was as irresistible as a slice of pecan pie, and, Darryl suspected, about as good for you. It was Mae West meets Tobacco Road with a lap dancer's instinct for stroking a male ego. "And let me guess, Sugar. Well, no guess, I've seen your handsome face in pictures, and your work. You are the Pulitzer Prize photographer and James's protégée, Darryl Sanders. I'm right surprised to see you here; I thought you were Courtney Archer's very, very personal photographer?"

"I was. I quit."

"And Enrique Salcedo, photographer for Paris Match, I assume," continued James, who paused until Enrique nodded. "And Wallace Hamilton, who I know is still working for the London Times. So I'm sure everyone is here because they are on their way to or from the war in Afghanistan, right?"

As it happened, everyone was going except Enrique, who was coming back after several months. This made him the center of attention, while they all pumped him for information.

"Not much to tell that you haven't read in the papers." Enrique explained. "Everyone expects the Taliban to be in Kabul in a few months, September at the latest. What you may not be prepared for is the degree of panic among the Kabuli who know that their westernized way of life is coming to an end. They are fleeing like rats from a sinking ship, and as a result, the government is grinding to a halt. It's getting harder to get permits and documents. Bribes are no longer just the easiest way to get things done; now, they're the only way."

"What about the women, Enrique?"

"Therein lays the most tragic story of all. The women of Kabul are among the most westernized in this part of the world. You can see some pretty hot fashions on the streets. They are educated; they have jobs, and they have a fair bit of independence. They know when the Taliban come; that's over. They will be forced to wear burqas, have no jobs and be allowed no education."

"So why don't they just flee?"

"Often they can't. They don't control their own money; they cannot travel without a male member of their family, and they have nowhere to go."

"Well, they are the story I'm here to cover," declared Cheryl.

"And the food is what I'm here to cover," insisted James, "so to hell with shop talk; we could have done that in the airport lounge. We're here in one of the finest tavernas in Athens, and we'd better start eating, drinking and making some noise, or they'll throw us out in the street, and rightly so." He looked around daring anyone to dissent, and finding none, the party got down to the serious business of eating.

Most menu items at a taverna are familiar enough; the emphasis being on quality and quantity rather than on exotic or innovative dishes. You can choose from classic Greek specialties like moussaka, lamb, giuvetsi, pasticcio or any number of pasta dishes. Or if you want to really go native Greek, you can totally ignore the menu and just custom order whatever the hell you want, and the odds are you will get it. The only rule seems to be to order more that you can possibly eat. And of course, lots of wine to wash it down. Astringent retsina, if your palate is up to it, or more civilized libations if not. Once again, the order of the day is to overindulge.

As the hours pass, the combination of food, large amounts of beer and wine and the passionate Greek music play their magic. The conversations get louder, and people tend to get friendlier, to each other, as well as to the cats under the tables begging scraps. Darryl noticed Cheryl had gradually been maneuvering closer throughout the meal and focusing her conversation more and more toward him. He kept trying to redirect the discussion to the larger group but with less and less success. He caught James' eyes once with a silent plea for help but found only amusement there. He was being thrown to the wolves.

He felt a hand on his leg high enough to be about an inch shy of brazen and lips very close to his ears whispering in that sultry southern accent. "There is no use looking to James for help, Sugar; he never could handle me either. Besides, I don't bite... often."

"Ah, Ms. Woodson. I'm flattered but..."

"Cheryl, honey, it's Cheryl; you should always call a lady by her first name after she has touched you in an intimate way."

"But you've never touched me in... ohh ohhh ohhh ohhh!"

"Have now, Sugar," she stated matter-of-factly as she released his now erect manhood.

"If I were a woman and you were a man, that would have been considered the grossest form of sexual harassment."

"True, Sugar, just another reason I'm glad I wasn't born with one of those appendages, especially since it's so easy to borrow one whenever I want. Can I borrow yours tonight?"

"No, you may not. I hardly know you."

"So... I just wanted to play with it, honey, not marry it."

"And besides, I'm still kind of in love with someone."

"Kind of in love? Usually when a guy says that, it means they've kind of broken up. Did you and Miss Courtney split?"

"How did you know about Courtney and me?"

"Hey, Sugar, you and she did a great job keeping it under wraps; but the press was pretty sure you guys were doing the nasty; you were just discrete. So you two were an item, but now you've split, huh, Sweetheart?"

"Yeah."

"Serious split? Who caused it?"

"Very serious, I think permanent, and I walked out on her."

"So what's the problem, honey? Sounds like you're pretty damn available to me."

"Except I still love her. I don't think that will ever change."

"Oh my goodness gracious, and bless my soul, Christmas has come early, I get the one guy in the whole world with a conscience. Now you are totally irresistible, and I am totally wet; I just have to have you. You poor innocent babe."

Cheryl now ended all pretenses at propriety and climbed into Darryl's lap and started to kiss him. He fended her off temporarily and was looking around for help but finding only laughing, smiling faces. Suddenly he felt something poking him in the palm of his hand and looked down to discover that she had worked his hand into her shirt and over a bare breast, so that her nipple was rubbing his palm. She was wiggling her cute butt in his lap and in spite of himself, his body was responding. He was developing an erection which she immediate reached down and grabbed.

"Is this all for me, Sugar?" she asked in a little-girl voice.

"No dammit, it's not," said Darryl, and grabbing her firmly about the waist, he lifted her off his lap and placed her gently but firmly back in her chair.

Not the least discouraged, Cheryl just smiled sweetly at him. "Ohhh, I love them when they play hard to get! But Darryl, honey lamb, I'll get you in the end. I just was giving you the chance to make it easy on yourself. I have to solve the two great mysteries."

"What mysteries?"

"The mysteries I will solve when we're alone together."

Darryl snorted, "Then they will remain mysteries, because I have no intention of ever being alone with you."

Cheryl beamed across the table at James. "Oh. James, this one is so sweet, and shy; I just love him. You brought him just for me, didn't you? You, sweet man you."

"Well not quite, Cheryl; he's actually very good at what he does, but if you want to ah... borrow him for a while..."

"James," shouted an outraged Darryl, "Don't say that; I was counting on you to help me with this woman,"

"Why Darryl," laughed James, "You don't need my help; you seem to be doing just fine by yourself." Then in a very loud stage whisper, "If you play your cards right, I think you could even get lucky tonight."

Everyone, except Darryl, thought this hilarious. He just blushed, which struck everyone else as even more comical. By 2:00 AM, he'd had enough fighting Cheryl off and providing everyone's entertainment. He waited until she was off powdering her nose, then rose, wished everyone a good evening, and headed back to the hotel. Between the long day and the wine, he was asleep before his head was on the pillow.

The Lake House 3:30 AM

"I want to feel passion, I want to feel pain. I want to weep at the sound of your name. Come make me laugh, come make me cry... just make me feel alive." 

Joey Lauren Adams

Jaclyn found herself awake, but she couldn't immediately place what had disturbed her sleep. She was spooned with Courtney, their nude bodies gracefully blended like two Greek sculptures, her hand gently nestling Courtney's breast. Then she felt, as much as heard, the muffled crying. Courtney was silently sobbing, her body trembling.

"Courtney, oh my God, you are crying; is it because of us, because of what we've done? I am so sorry if I've hurt you."

Courtney rolled over and clung to her. She now allowed herself to cry aloud. "No, Jaclyn... it's not... what you've done... what we've done." She took a deep breath, "That was beautiful. You are beautiful."

"What is it then; why are you so upset?"

"Oh Jaclyn, it's not your fault, I'm crying for what it wasn't. For what it couldn't be. For what can never be. There's nothing there anymore. Oh my God, Jaclyn, I just feel completely empty; I just feel nothing at all."

Athens, Greece 3:30 AM

"I'm not a vamp. I just like men."

Dorothy Stratten

Sometime later Darryl came half awake, hearing someone in the room and the sound of clothes coming off. Realizing that James was back but not wishing to start a conversation, he rolled over to go back to sleep. Or he tried to, until he became aware of someone in bed with him. Someone wearing perfume and whose breasts were poking him in his back. Someone whose hands were reaching around to fondle his limp organ.

"Cheryl?"

"Yes, Sugar, I'm here. At last we're alone."

"No, James will be here any minute."

She laughed. "I reckon not, Sweetheart. We swapped keys, so he's probably sound asleep in my bed by now."

"That rotten son of a bitch sold me out?"

"Well, the way he put it, Sugar, was that a night with me should be a part of any young gentleman's education. A concept I heartily endorse."

"Not interested."

"I could get another girl and start with a little girl-girl action; you guys always like that."

"No thank you!"

"Blow job?"

"Nope."

"Hand job?"

"No, thank you."

"No, thank you? Not even a hand job? Hold on one cotton-picking minute, mister. Turn around here, and look at me."

She grabbed Darryl and turned him over, then got up on her knees and turned on the bedside lamp. She was probably in her early thirties but extremely fit. Her trim figure was feminine without any excess fat, and her breasts, while modest, were shapely and capped by some very tempting, very erect nipples. With her face, figure, and vivacious personality, even Darryl had to admit she was an unusually attractive woman. His body started to respond in confirmation.

"So, Sugar, I'm pretty sure that pole between your legs agrees that I'm not the ugliest gal in this berg. You are by your own admission and by your own choice free. You're on your way to a part of the world where you aren't even going to get a copy of Playboy, let alone any nookie for the next six months. So unless you plan to play drop the soap with James, I'm like the gas station on the edge of the desert, last pussy for the next 24 weeks. Honey lamb, you reckon you want to reconsider?"

Darryl laughed in spite of himself. "Cheryl, you are one of a kind, and I suspect my education would not have been complete without meeting you. But how about we talk first?"

"And fuck later?"

"No promises. But I want to talk about James. I gather you know him pretty well."

Cheryl sighed in resignation and lay on her side against him with her head on his shoulder. She idly played with his balls while she answered. "James, oh yes, he's the first I set my sights on straight out of journalism school. He was and still is the one to get my panties wet, along with every other female in range. Hah. But I had to take my shot like everyone else. Every woman worth the name has to take a shot at landing James McNicol. But, Sugar, no one has, and I suspect no one will. Some one already has that man's heart and has for as long as anyone's known him. We're all supposed to be such ace reporters, but that's a story no one's broken. Still, he's always ready to give a girl a good humping when she needs it, unlike some folks who shall go nameless..."

"Isn't anyone close to him, special to him?"

"Oh sure, Sugar, there is one that he treats very differently from everyone else, one he let's in."

"OK, who is that?"

Cheryl laughed. "Why Sugar, that's you."

"Me?"

"Oh yes, sugar lamb, you! He walks up to you at graduation and hands you a hand-picked set of equipment and three weeks of one-on-one instruction at his mountain home, supposedly a gift from these adopted relatives, right? Well honey, let me tell you, NO ONE, and I mean NO ONE gets that kind of personal training from James McNicol at any price. Believe me, he's been offered some pretty fabulous sums, but he just doesn't do that. Second, it is the gospel in our business that James McNicol works alone, solo, sans partner, no sidekick, mono. That's just the way it is. And Sugar, don't think people haven't tried. I tried; I even offered this luscious body. It just doesn't happen. Now tell me, honey, what did you have to give him?"

"Ah, nothing, really. I just asked if he had anything and agreed to follow his directions, and he said we're leaving in the morning."

"Bless my grits, he loves your ass for some reason. You are very, very, uniquely special to James, and I think you need to find out why that is. The good news is James does not lie; it's just not in him, so if he answers at all, he'll tell the truth. But before I went into a life and death situation with a man, I would want to know what we were to each other."

"You said two mysteries; what's the other mystery?"

Cheryl suddenly became quieter, more tender, shedding a lot of her brassy overconfidence. She cuddled up and put her arms around his neck. She looked longingly into his eyes.

"The mystery of where to find a guy like you who is faithful to an ex-girlfriend who he never expects to see again, when I can't seem to get faithfulness out of my boyfriends while we're still going together. Sugar, you're driving me crazy, but you are definitely one of the good guys. I can't see how any girl would let you get away."

"Thank you, Cheryl, that's very kind of you to say, but you don't understand the circumstances."

She gave him a sad smile, "Okay, Darryl, I surrender; if you won't rat me out and spoil my reputation, I'll just cuddle up with you and go to sleep. Would that be all right, sweetheart?"

"I think that would be very all right."

Darryl spooned with her, and with his hand resting lightly on her breast, he quickly fell asleep. It was a wonderful sleep and he dreamed sweet dreams of Courtney.

He could almost feel the warmth and wetness, as her mouth engulfed him and gently brought him to a full erection. "Oh, Courtney" he dreamed, "Your mouth feels so warm." When it was withdrawn, he almost cried out, but it was quickly replaced by an even greater warmth, an unmistakable, velvet glove like moisture and heat that could only mean that Courtney had taken him inside.

"Oh yes, Courtney, it's so good to feel you again. Oh yes, don't stop." Darryl had never had a dream that felt so real. He felt her vagina spasming on his cock, and his climax coming, and realized suddenly that this was too real. His eyes popped open.

"Cheryl! What are you doing?"

Cheryl looked down at him with barely focused eyes, as she continued to bounce on his hips, she gasped, "I guess it's practically rape, Sugar, but I think it's too late to stop NOWWWW!!"

And she was right. Darryl may have been shocked, outraged, even furious, but it was far too late to matter. Cheryl was figuratively and literally in the saddle on this one, and her broad smile announced her victory. All he could do was hold on and watch his body pump his semen into her whether he wished it or not. And afterwards he didn't have it in him to hold a grudge against anyone.

The Lake House 8:30 AM




"I don't know what love means."  Imogen Cunningham

Dr. Carol Browning was again meeting with Jaclyn in the living room of the master suite, while Courtney lay temporarily sedated in the adjacent bedroom.

"Thank you for coming out so early, Dr. Browning." Jaclyn said gratefully. "But Courtney was so distraught, and I feel like it was largely my fault."

"Yes and no. In hindsight, introducing a new relationship so soon was possibly unwise, but it merely unmasked problems that were already there. Courtney is someone you love and admire and whom you find physically attractive. You saw her in great pain. It had to arouse strong emotions in you. The fact that you had never expressed this type of feeling in all your years together and that you had never been sexually attracted to a woman before makes it likely that this was a case of you responding to her pain and not a true romantic love relationship."

"Should I end it?"

"No, not immediately. You don't want to risk adding another rejection to her already battered ego. Courtney will soon, if she hasn't already, realize that the two of you are not "in love," but you must wait for her to recognize this. Until then, you should let her control the relationship. Just be there for her."

"What actually happened this morning?"

"This morning was essentially a kind of panic attack brought on when she finally realized just how deep her emotional wounds are from Darryl leaving. Apparently she feels incapable of forming emotional attachment to anyone, and she was upset because she realized that she could feel nothing beyond the purely physical in her affair with you."

"How long will this last?"

"God only knows. Usually these types of reactions are of a limited duration, but it is hard to estimate, especially with the kind of history they had.

"Can it be treated?"

"Therapy may be helpful, but no guarantees."

"What would you expect the effect of this to be on a creative artist?"

"Completely unpredictable, other than you can be absolutely certain that emotional turmoil of this magnitude WILL have an effect.

Athens 8:30 AM

"I will begin with this confession: whatever I have done in the course of my life, whether it be good or evil, has been done freely; I am a free agent."

Giacomo Casanova

Darryl ushered Cheryl out of the room, ignoring her pleas for an encore, having taken care to confiscate her copy of the room key. He had just completed his shower when James returned looking outrageously cheerful.

"Good morning," James announced enthusiastically, "I trust you slept well."

"You know damn good and well I didn't sleep at all, being trapped in a room with a hyper-sexed energizer fuck-bunny. Who, I might add, apparently got the key from you."

"Ah, you don't have to thank me."

"THANK YOU! The little minx essentially raped me."

"Raped you, huh? Pretty serious charge. But I know Cheryl; she has her own set of rules, unconventional as they may be. Let me guess; she got you in your sleep, right?"

"That's right, I thought I was having a wonderful dream, and by the time I realized I wasn't dreaming, it was too late."

"Tell me, Darryl, you have this naked lady in your bed. Did you at any time tell her to leave your room?"

"Well no, not really."

"Did you tell her she had to get out of your bed?"

"No."

"There are two beds in this room; did you even ask her to please go sleep in the other bed?"

"All right, I get the point, I didn't really put up that much of a fight, and maybe I really wanted the sex without the guilt."

"When you left the taverna early, alone, you were Mr. Squeaky Clean. When you went to sleep with a naked Cheryl in your bed... that's not virtue, that's wishful thinking. I hate to say it, pal but you just pulled a stunt a lot of women used to do, and a few still do. Back in the fifties and early sixties, before the sexual revolution, no nice girl ever "did it" without some sort of conscience alibi, usually a couple of drinks. She had decided whether or not she was going to do the dirty deed before you picked her up, but you still had to ply her with enough alcohol to give her plausible deniability in the morning."

"You're right James; I'm certainly big enough to have physically thrown her ass out of here if I'd really wanted to."

James laughed. "Don't feel too bad, Darryl; when it comes to Cheryl, no one really wants to. She's more than a good lay; she's a force of nature, and truth be told, she would have gotten you sooner or later. She sure as hell has gotten me, more than once. But don't worry, she's actually a pretty trustworthy woman, and what ever she used up will grow back. Let's get you a good breakfast; you probably need it."

Breakfast is not a big meal in Greece, except for the coffee, which is thick and sweet. James and Darryl enjoyed this eyeopening beverage, along with fresh bread, goat cheese and plenty of the delicious Kalamata olives.

"James, surprisingly, we actually talked last night, and Cheryl pointed out that you treat me differently than anyone else; that I am the only person that you have ever allowed to accompany you on an assignment like this. I think I need to know why."

"Yes, you probably do need to know. It's not a topic that's easy for me. Tell you what, have you ever been to the Acropolis?

"No, I've always wanted to go."

"I've been, but I find it very inspirational. It's also is the type of place that brings things into perspective. Let's go there, and I promise to tell you my story. It's also a very good idea to climb that hill early in the morning this time of year."

They climbed the steps past the Propylaea moving on to the Parthenon, possibly the most recognizable structure in the world.

Darryl was awestruck. "I never realized it was so huge. I guess it's amazing that at 2,500 years old, it's in such remarkable shape."

"More remarkable than you think; remember that a great deal of the damage is not from age, but from 1687 when a Venetian cannonball blew up a Turkish powder magazine hidden inside."

As they walked around, it was as if they could feel the centuries of history that surrounded them. Finally, James sat down on a large stone and motioned for Darryl to join him.

"I feel sufficiently humbled now to be able to talk more freely about myself. I am by nature a private man, and this is not easy, but you have a right to know."

JAMES'S STORY TO DARRYL ON THE ACROPOLIS

" It's true; there is a connection between us. and it is related to my staying single all my life. I am your uncle twice removed or some such. I never was one to keep such relationships straight. You are Robin Kedrick's cousin. I am Robin's mother's younger half-brother, that is, we had the same mother but different fathers. That doesn't make you and me all that close, except that we both had the rare good fortune to be adopted by Grandma and Grandpa Kedrick. That makes us two of the luckiest people alive, because the Kedricks were incredible people, and it is through them that I took an interest in you."

"As I said, Robin's mother Laura was my half-sister, but despite that, we were always very close. In fact, as the years went by, we became closer than brothers and sisters should be. We took each other's virginity and were lovers for many years. I'm not proud of that, but I have no regrets either. Laura was a truly wonderful caring person, and I loved her with all my heart. I know that the main reason I have never married is that I've never met anyone like her. She was my soul mate, and yet I couldn't have her. Although she returned my love in full measure, I believed that she could learn to love another, if I weren't there holding her back. I knew I had to let her go, even though it would rip my heart out."

"I volunteered for 'Nam, because I thought that would be far enough away to give her space to move on. Her letters said that she was dating, because that's what she knew I wanted to hear, but I knew through trusted friends that she wasn't really; she was just waiting for me to return. I decided that her only chance was for me to be so gone that I could never come back, gone as in dead, so I started volunteering for every crazy dangerous mission I could. Robin's future dad, Bill, was my commanding officer, and at first he thought I was very brave, but it didn't take long for him to figure out that I was trying to get myself killed. He brought me in and asked me why, if I was so damned determined to die, I didn't just eat my gun and get it over with?"

"It took weeks and getting me drunk, but finally he got the truth out of me. If I committed suicide, Laura would know why, and it would destroy her completely. If I was "accidentally" killed in combat, she couldn't blame herself, but she would have no choice but to get on with her life. It seemed like a perfect plan to me, but Bill straightened me out. He had been writing Laura out of concern for me, and being as insightful as she was, she had already figured out what I was doing. She had been trying to tell me not to throw my life away; I just hadn't been listening. Bill had been listening. He and Laura had gotten close just writing back and forth. I can't deny a touch of jealousy, but I had come to admire and respect him for what he had done for me and for Laura. I also thought we were a lot alike, and if she loved me, she could probably love him, if I got out of the way."

"I got home first, and I sat down with her. I said, 'Laura, I love you, but we can never be together. Society and the law won't allow it. It would kill our parents, if they found out. We have to end this here and now.'"

"'I know that now; I've known since I realized that you were ready to throw your life away to give me a new one. I don't want you to die, James. I may need you to be away from me for a while, so I can get over my need for you, but in time I will, and I hope you will, too."

"'I have an offer to be a photographer for National Geographic,  and it involves a great deal of travel. It's something I want to do, and it will take me away for a long time. I told them I could start immediately.'"

"'So soon? I had hoped we would have a little time together.'"

"'It will only make it harder to leave. I can barely do that now'"

"'Tonight? Can we at least have tonight?'"

"I started to say that I didn't think it was a good idea, but her soft lips on mine persuaded me otherwise. To my surprise, that one night of love, more tender than passionate, helped us say goodbye, and in the morning, although sad, we both knew it was time and the right thing to do. We said out final goodbyes on the porch. I told her that my friend Bill would be getting out in a month. I wanted her to meet him. I thought they were right for each other. She agreed and said she had become very fond of him through their letters, and she also was grateful that he cared enough to keep me from throwing my life away. I think she saw the pain in my eyes from thinking about her with another man, even though I covered it up as best I could."

 "Poor James," she said to me, 'I believe you will be hurt worse than I. A woman has to move on, if she wants a family, and I do, but there is nothing to drive you on, is there? You are independent and self-reliant. You are so handsome that you will never lack for feminine company, and yet I wonder if you will ever commit to any one woman."

"With that and a brief and sisterly kiss, I walked out of her life. Bill came to her the next month, and as I thought, they took to each other immediately. He was patient with her, while she got used to a new man in her life, and before long, they loved each other heart and soul. I didn't attend their wedding, although I sent my love. It was as if that last comment from her laid a curse on my soul. I could never find a woman I could commit myself to. Oh, there have been many women that passed through my life, usually in affairs that only lasted until the next assignment, but none of them measured up to Laura, so no one reached my heart the way she had. So here I am, an aging bachelor, I think sometimes I might be ready to settle down, but for me, it's too late. I've been alone too long. I don't think I would know how to even start much less maintain a real relationship." 

Finally at the end of his story he got up from his rocky seat and started back towards the trail down the hill.

"James," He paused and turned back towards me. "Can you truthfully say that in all those years, there was never a single woman who really touched you?"

He paused a long moment before answering. "No, that's not true, there was one, one very special woman, I would have married her, but she wouldn't have me. Don't ask me any more questions; I'm not ready to talk to you about her yet."



-------

Chapter 10: A Journey That Will Change You Forever

The Lake House, May 1996 — June 1, 1996

The past cannot be changed. The future is yet in your power.
Mary Pickford

Courtney made a valiant attempt to get on with her life in a vain hope that in time the muses would return to help her write, and the magic would return to her voice. No one expected an overnight recovery but the lack of even the slightest hint of improvement had driven her close to despair. She didn't enjoy the luxury of a lot of time. With an extensive concert tour fast approaching, this was a crisis. Courtney, Jaclyn, Doctor Browning and her voice coach were all in agreement that for her to tour without that special spark and energy that had made her famous, would be catastrophic to her career. Canceling at this late date would be costly also, but certainly the lesser of two evils. The irony that Darryl's leaving because he couldn't deal with her touring might now cost her the entire tour, was not entirely lost on Courtney, but did nothing to comfort her. Besides just hoping a little time would heal Courtney's pain, they'd tried meditation, they'd tried mild drugs, they'd tried bringing in other singers Courtney enjoyed performing with. They'd even tried hypnosis. By the last week of May, the Pollyanna strategy was patently bankrupt, and Courtney had lost all patience. One night over dinner with Jaclyn, she called a halt.

"This isn't working Jaclyn; we've got to change something, otherwise, things are never going to get better; I'm absolutely sure of that. In fact, I'm almost sure it's getting worse."

"No argument here. Any ideas?"

"Not one Jaclyn, that's the problem. I'm open for suggestions; ANYTHING at all. Right now I'd settle for something to just get me out of here for a while; I'm going stir crazy."

"How about this? Karl is competing in the Iron Man Triathlon tomorrow, swimming, biking and running. Let's pack a picnic lunch and cheer him on. That'll get you out of here for the first time in weeks and give us a chance to talk about some other ideas in a fresh environment."

"I'd like that. I'd like getting out and supporting a friend. Let's do it."

The next morning, Jaclyn and Courtney, dressed inconspicuously and armed with a large thermos of hot coffee, braved the dawn chill to witness the start of the all-day event. Joining a large crowd, they cheered enthusiastically as the intrepid athletes plunged into their first of three events, a 2.5 mile swim. At the end of the aquatic race they rushed into a tent to change into biking garb so they could immediately start a 110 mile bike race. Having watched the race before, Jaclyn raced ahead to a nice picnic spot. She and Courtney had a pleasant morning laying out in the sun and chatting. Around midday, as they enjoyed a leisurely picnic lunch, the first of the racers streak by. Karl was among the top five firmly in the leader pack. Jaclyn seemed delighted with this result.

"Is he doing well, Jaclyn?"

"Extremely well! Karl is a very solid swimmer, a decent biker and one of the best runners. For him to be this close to the lead in the biking is very good. Last year he was a good ten minutes back at this point and still came in third. He might have a shot at winning this year."

They hurriedly packed up and drove around the course to be at the end of the bike portion. They were there cheering wildly as Karl finished, still only seconds behind the leaders. He rushed into the tent and changed again in preparation for the final event, a 26-mile marathon run. As he started off he heard and saw them cheering and waving and gave them both a quick wave, then he touched his two fore fingers to his lips and quickly tossed a kiss to Jaclyn. The gesture was so quick and understated that it probably was lost on the whole crowd, with two exceptions; Jaclyn, who blushed and looked as abashed as a school girl, and Courtney who looked on with a sly, somewhat wistful, smile.

Using Jaclyn's inside knowledge they were able to see the racers again at approximately one third and two thirds of the way through the event. Both times Karl was running with the leader pack and looking very comfortable. It was obvious that his conditioning was superb. It was also becoming obvious that Jaclyn was taking more than an athletic interest in watching Karl's sculpted musculature in action; although she was trying to hide it.

"It's OK to stare," Courtney laughed, "He's gorgeous. He's a sexy hunk of man, and if you're not getting a little wet, you're probably the only woman in this crowd who's not."

"Soaked, but I'm still not sure what I should do."

"Jaclyn, you're a big girl now. You're old enough to play with boys. Karl's a boy. You like Karl; Karl likes you. I think you can figure it out."

Last stop, they managed to get right up on the finish line. Now some 8 hours and 35 minutes after the opening gun the first runners turned the final corner towards the finish line. There were three runners almost neck and neck coming around the bend, but as soon as the finish line came in view, one separated from the pack. That one runner either had, or found reserves the other two just couldn't match so he pulled slowly but inexorably ahead. As he came towards them they recognized Karl and started yelling and jumping up and down like teenagers. Karl crossed the line a good minute ahead of second place, setting a new course record.

Courtney and Jaclyn fought their way through the crowd of press and well wishers. Finally Jaclyn stood in front of him.

"I'd like to hug you," said Karl, "but Jaclyn, I'm sweating like a mule."

"Maybe I like mules." Jaclyn said as she threw her arms around him.

Courtney noticed her nostrils flare indicating that Jaclyn was reacting to the pheromones that go with perspiration. Then Courtney stepped up and offered her congratulations and then leaned forward and whispered something in his ear.

Later, riding home, Courtney turned to Jaclyn.

"OK Jaclyn, you guys are obviously nuts about each other, so what's holding up the parade? When are you two going to get it on?"

"Well Courtney, first, there is you."

"Stop right there, I feel bad enough about being so needy but I won't come between the two of you. Look, it was fun and felt good but we both know we're not in love. You were so hot for him, you were just about ready to lick his sweat off, admit it!"

"Oh God yes, I could have raped him right there; I always thought sweat was supposed to smell bad, but he was delicious."

"It's called pheromones, dear, very powerful. Jaclyn, I needed you then; I needed to feel loved, but it was just physical. The truth is I've always enjoyed being with women. I like the way they feel; I like the way they taste; I like the way they know all the secrets of a woman's body. But it's like wonderful foreplay without the main event. I like the strong hands. I like feeling shielded and protected. I like the smell of a man, and the feel of that hairy hard body. And I really miss the pleasure of being filled up and stretched inside. You OK with this?"

"Yes Courtney, very OK, even relieved a little."

"In case I had taken it more seriously than you?"

"Well yes, I'm sorry; I didn't really know what I was feeling."

"You were seeing someone you loved in a great deal of pain and wanted to help."

"Yes."

"And I thank you, my dear friend. Now back to you. When are you going to get it on with Karl?"

"Oh Courtney, you're going to laugh at me."

"Why?"

"I really want to; sometimes I think I'll explode if I don't. I've known him for years. I'm hardly a school girl any more and yet I'm very shy about him."

"You saw me whisper to him. Well dear, you only have a few hours to get over the shyness."

"COURTNEY! What exactly did you say to him?"

"I told him to leave his door unlocked; that you'd come to him tonight."

"You did NOT!"

Courtney didn't say anything, but her smile spoke for her.

"You DID! Oh my God! What do I do now?"

Courtney laughed. "Didn't your mom ever have 'The Talk' with you'?"

"Oh stop it, that's not what I meant."

"Well then Jaclyn, exactly what is your problem?"

Jaclyn looked embarrassed and hesitated, so Courtney put her arms around her.

"You're just a little bit afraid aren't you? Afraid you won't please him? Is that it?"

"Yes, I really want this to work; I've probably been in love with him for years. But I'm not very experienced with men. I'm not a virgin, but pretty damn close, and none of the affairs were long enough, or with someone skilled enough for me to learn anything. I'm terrified I'll disappoint him."

"Jaclyn, do you care for Karl?"

"Yes, I do, very much."

"Are you turned on by him physically?"

"God yes! You saw me out there today."

"You have any sexual hang-ups or are you willing to try most things?"

"I don't think I'd like whips and chains but I'm open to pretty much everything else."

"Jaclyn, listen to me; you can't miss. Just go to him and tell him the truth. That you really like him, maybe love him, but you haven't had much experience. That you're open to learn if he'll teach you. Guys love that kind of innocence. He'll think he's died and gone to heaven. You won't be able to do anything wrong in his eyes. Just go and enjoy. I don't want to see either of you outside that room for the next two days"

"There is no way in hell, unless I've got you taken care of, that I am taking two days off, even to get laid."

"Don't worry, I'll be OK."

"No Courtney I do worry, and you're not OK; you're not even close to OK. But I do have an idea I want to discuss with you."

They had arrived back at the lake house, so they went to the master suite living room where they fixed some hot tea before continuing the conversation.

"I don't know if you remember me telling you, but I am one quarter Lakota Sioux. I am very proud of that heritage and I got to spend some time among them as I grew up. My Lakota name is Olathe, which means beautiful one. I especially learned to love and revere a woman of extraordinary wisdom and spiritual power who became like a mother to me. Her name is simply Gaho, which means mother, and everyone calls her that out of respect. She serves as a tribal medicine woman, although traditionally that role is mostly reserved for men."

"She also helps keep alive the traditional Lakota practice of the Hanblecheyapi, the vision quest. Briefly, the vision quest requires the participant to go into the wilderness, watched over only by their spiritual guide and divest themselves of everything except water, then enter a 10 foot circle. There they meditate and dream until they achieve a vision that answers whatever is troubling them and gives them guidance for their future. It can take up to two, even four days but the results are usually quite remarkable."

"I don't know Jaclyn; that sounds pretty scary."

"I won't lie to you; it is. But Gaho prepares you for the experience, and you will be watched over for safety. It is the drastic change from normal life that makes it so effective. Courtney, I wouldn't recommend something if I didn't really believe in it, and certainly wouldn't if I thought it might harm you. I did it as a teenager and it gave me a direction and level of confidence I never would have had before. I wish you would at least talk to her."

"Fair enough, if you have the guts to climb in bed with Karl, I can go see mother Gaho."

"I'll call her now and put her on the speaker phone."

"Click. Hello, Olathe, I'm glad you still remember Gaho. These old ears hunger for your voice."

"Hello, Gaho, you've lost none of your skill if you knew it was me calling."

"Olathe, even in the Dakotas we have caller ID, but wait and keep silent. We will see if my medicine is still strong. I had a vision of you last night and at first I thought you were troubled but I realize that you are only in love and yet deny it to yourself. Go to him Olathe, I see him as a strong brave; in my vision he ran a great distance to be with you. Trust your instincts; he is as good as he is strong."

"I will go to his bed tonight, Gaho."

"Good, I envy you his young warrior loins. Now, your friend, with the voice from the gods. She is in great pain and will not sing again with the voice she seeks, until the pain is removed. She is there with you?"

"Yes, I am here. Should I call you Gaho?"

"Please, I would be happy to be so called by one blessed with such a gift. And Courtney, I would like to honor you with a Native American name if I may."

"Please do, it would be a great honor."

"Popular music is not something I know, so I confess that I had never heard you sing, but this morning after my vision I asked my daughter to help me to hear your voice. She had many recordings of you, and I listened to them. A voice of such beauty is a treasure that belongs to everyone. I will call you Ominotago; it means beautiful voice, it's actually a Chippewa name, not Sioux, but it fits you so well I have borrowed it. "

"Thank you, Gaho, it is a beautiful name. Do you really think you can help me?"

"I had a very clear vision of you. That means that there is a good spiritual bond between us. I cannot give you the vision you seek; you must find it for yourself. I can help you find it, and I can perhaps help you understand the vision. I think you should come to me very soon and not just for your own sake."

"I don't understand."

"You must understand, a vision is not like a television show. It is made up of symbols and hints and there are no captions to explain. Often you just have to feel what the vision is telling you. I had a strong sense that someone that you care for very deeply is going to be in great danger and only you can save them. But I also felt that only through a vision would you know about this danger and how to stop it."

"That's it? You can't tell me who, or what to do?"

"No, I am sorry; I tried very hard but it was not for me to see. I just felt the darkness of danger near you, but not on you. That meant the danger was to someone close to you, but it hid from you, meaning you had the ability to defeat it. And yet you did not know the danger was near, so that meant the danger was invisible to your daylight eyes. Nothing more can I tell."

"Can I come tomorrow?"

"Call with a time, and my daughter will meet you at the airport. Olathe knows all the details. I will make ready for you. Good night, Ominotago."

"Good night, Gaho, and thank you."

"OK, Olathe, front and center for orders."

"Aye, aye, revered Ominotago, your wishes are my command."

"Order up the plane; have the crew file a flight plan to wherever it is I need to go."

"Pierre, South Dakota, not that it's all that close, but South Dakota isn't exactly overrun with airports. Gaho is sending her daughter, who she is training, to pick you up."

"As soon as we know it, call Gaho, and give her the time to expect me."

Jaclyn made a few phone calls. "OK Boss, The plane will be ready first thing in the morning"

"Any problems?"

"You kidding, those guys live to fly. They'd be happy to be in the air everyday, and to them a nice long flight to South Dakota is like Christmas in May... or June in a few minutes."

"Well give me a hand packing; apparently I'm not going to need a lot, just some jeans, shirts and boots and my guitar. I hope I've got enough; you know I've always been a city girl at heart."

"If not, you can borrow some from me; I've always been the tomboy and we're about the same size."

"Deal. And that reminds me. I want you to borrow some of my Chanel, and then go through my lingerie, and pick out something really hot. I know you don't own anything that's not 'practical' and as your boss, and romance advisor, I have final say on whether it's hot enough. Then put on a coat, nothing more, march yourself straight up to Karl's apartment and spend the night helping him pound the lumps out of his mattress. And consider that a direct order."

Jaclyn blushed and giggled like a schoolgirl. "Well, if it's an order, I guess I have to do it, huh?"

"Yep, or I'm docking your pay. Seriously Jaclyn, enjoy, it's about time you two got together. He's a great guy so learn from my mistake. When you've got a good one, don't ever, ever let go. I know if I ever get another chance, I won't let anything or anybody get between me and Darryl again.

-------

June 1, Pierre Regional Airport, Pierre South Dakota

Courtney's private plane came to a stop in the executive aircraft section of the Pierre, South Dakota Municipal Airport. An attractive Native American woman, who appeared to be about Courtney's own age was there to welcome her.

"Welcome, Ominotago, to the Lakota Nation, although some refer to it as South Dakota. I'm Leotie; it means flower of the prairie. Gaho is my mother. Of course, Gaho is everyone's mother, except in my case, it is literally true."

"Thank you for meeting me, Leotie, I've never been to South Dakota before, and you are a beautiful welcoming committee."

"Oh, I'm much more than just your welcoming committee. I'm going to be your personal coach for your quest. Hop in the Jeep, and we'll talk. We've got a nice long car ride ahead of us today, and you have a very much longer spiritual journey ahead of you. It's a journey that will change you forever."

-------

Darryl and James, Athens, May 1996 to June 1, 1996

If time be of all things the most precious, wasting time must be the greatest prodigality. 
Benjamin Franklin

What had been planned as a brief layover in Athens turned out to be much longer. The disruption in government functions in the Kabul regime, which was virtually under siege by the advancing Taliban, made it impossible to get the final visa approvals. James considered shifting operations to Pakistan, which is a traditional gateway to Afghanistan and the birthplace of the Taliban movement, but checking with colleagues on the ground there indicated that the delay would likely be even longer. For the moment there was nothing to be done but to check daily at the legation for any change and otherwise enjoy Athens as guests of the Society.

Occasionally, a chance to gather background material would come up, and usually James would send Darryl, since he was new to Afghanistan, while James had been there several times before. One morning at breakfast, James set his cup of strong Greek coffee down and looked thoughtful for a second before speaking.

"Darryl, I want you to sit in on an interview, no cameras, this will be background only. These will be Muslim women being interviewed, and you may be asked to leave at some point, as there are topics that they will not discuss in front of a man."

"OK James, I can do that. Whose interview is it?"

"Cheryl's, she'll be in charge, and you need to follow her direction."

"Whoa, James, Cheryl? Ms. Southern Belle Monster Libido? No thanks, mind if I pass?"

James looked Darryl squarely in the eye, and in a quiet voice that was meant to forestall any objection, he said, "Yes Darryl, I would mind very much. First, you will find that when she's working, Cheryl is very professional and talented. You can learn from her. Secondly, in this business you work with all sorts of people, so grow up. Third, you agreed to take your instructions from me on this trip or catch the next flight home. So let's try that again, shall we. Would you like to go on an interview under the direction of Cheryl?"

Lifting his coffee cup in salute, Darryl said, "I'd be happy to, James."

"That's what I thought you meant. I think you're in for a surprise, two actually, you're going to meet another remarkable young lady. Treat her with a great deal of courtesy. She is a very brave woman, and her family is going to be very important to us in Afghanistan."

Shortly, Darryl found himself meeting with a group of Afghan women who had fled their homes to escape the Taliban. These were educated women; many wore modern western-style clothing. They were teachers, doctors and nurses, professions which had only recently been opened to women. Now the Taliban were forbidding women to work or to pursue education. These women were left in a position of either abandoning their country or their hard won roles as persons of value in society.

Darryl was fascinated, especially watching Cheryl at work. Gone was the heavy southern accent, she spoke in clear and articulate English with just enough accent to betray her birthplace. Her thoughts were well-organized, and it was obvious she was highly skilled as an interviewer. This he could tell when she spoke English, as it was apparent that she was fluent in several Afghan dialects as well. Darryl was also impressed by another very attractive young lady accompanying her and serving as a translator on the few occasions when Cheryl required one. She also seemed to be serving as an advisor to help explain local custom and usage which varies widely by region. Her rich, dark, skin and hair color indicated that she was probably Afghan, but her clothing was right out of Vogue. Darryl sat quietly in the background and used this opportunity to learn much about the cost of war and revolution from the woman's point of view. At a lull in the conversation, the young lady with Cheryl came to him.

"Mr. Sanders, my name is Azalea, and I must most respectfully ask you to leave us now, as we are going to discuss topics that no decent Afghan woman could discuss in the presence of a man. Cheryl wishes you to wait for us in the small café across the street, and we will join you within the hour."

After his reprimand by James that morning, there was no chance that he wasn't going to wait, even if it took all day. Besides which his interest had been piqued; by the subject, by the beautiful Azalea and by the chameleon like Cheryl. In only slightly more than the noted time Darryl was joined by his colleagues.

"Darryl Sanders, I would like to present Azalea Durrani, who has lately spent much time in our country."

Darryl rose and bowed but did not attempt to shake hands, an act that would have been considered forward by her culture's standards. "I am honored to meet you, and may I inquire about your experiences in our country, Ms Durrani?"

"Please call me Azalea, which is actually my name. As you probably know, the Afghan tradition does not have last names, and the ones in use today, like my own, have been adopted simply as a convenience in dealing with western cultures. In answer to your question; I went to the United States to study trauma nursing. At first there was a huge cultural change to deal with. I had to make decisions for myself, something a woman in my culture is not allowed. At first it was frightening, but then I learned to like it. I got to be very skilled in OR and trauma nursing and was excited about bringing these skills back to my country. Now it seems likely that the Taliban will make it impossible for me to use my skills or even live in a manner I would find acceptable. In the long term, I would still like to use my skills in my country, but in the short term it looks like I will returning to Afghanistan with you and Mr. McNichol."

"It will be an honor to accompany such an accomplished lady to her homeland. You will forgive me my surprise but James had not mentioned this to me."

"He has only just learned of my presence here in Athens through a call from my brother in Kabul. Mr. McNichol has been a close and trusted friend of my family for many years and has known me since I was an infant. He helped me get into nursing school in the United States. My brother has asked that James escort me back home, given the current unsettled conditions, and I in turn will serve as your interpreter."

"I, for one, welcome your help, as I have no command of the languages and less than I would like of the customs."

"I will do my best to help you Mr. Sanders, although I know you realize we will not be able to be this informal and familiar in public there. But now I must beg your pardon and yours Cheryl, as I have another appointment."

As the confident and beautiful Afghan woman departed, Cheryl turned to Darryl. "That is truly a remarkable and courageous young woman. I think you will find her a valuable ally. And now, I need to bum a ride back to the hotel, if you'd be so kind."

In the car, Darryl finally got up his nerve. "Cheryl, can I ask you a question?"

"You can always ask me anything, Darryl and I will either tell you the truth or tell you to fuck off, but I will never lie to you. I learned that from James, never lie to a friend."

"I watched you today. I saw a very professional, well-spoken and polished interviewer at work; one who apparently spoke several Middle Eastern languages. It was a very impressive performance."

"Thank you, sir; I'm sure the folks at the Columbia University School of Journalism will be glad to hear that all their hard work wasn't wasted after all."

"Well my question is... I'm not sure how to ask this without offending you. What I don't get is..."

Cheryl laughed." Let me see if I can help you out. You're having trouble matching up the button-down journalist you saw today with the southern vamp who ravaged your innocent young body in your hotel room. Is that it?"

"Well yeah, that's pretty much it. I'm a little confused here."

"Let me put it this way. You know how a lot of women keep a closet full of clothes, so they have just the right outfit for every occasion?"

"Most of the women I've known fit that description."

"And you know that most women change their lingerie to fit the event. Even though it's invisible, it helps them feel "right" for the occasion. Some also keep wigs and colored contact lens, so that they can change their whole appearance as well."

"It makes sense, I guess."

"I like to go one step further and change my persona along with my clothing. It's just my way of living in the moment to the fullest possible extent. I guess you could say that first night I got out a Fredrick's of Hollywood persona, and today I was in a suit. If we were just hanging out, I'd be in my blue jeans persona, which means you can get your own beer."

"You mean it's all just an act?"

"Not at all, Darryl, certain attitudes and behaviors that are appropriate at one time are not at another. You would behave and talk differently at a bachelor party and a funeral, wouldn't you? That's persona. It's not an act, it's different parts of you."

"Well, how do I get to know the real you?"

"They are all part of the real me, but if you mean the naked me that I know when I'm all alone. I'm afraid you'll have to know me a great deal better, Mr. Sanders before you get to know the naked me."

"But Cheryl, I've already seen you naked."

"No, Darryl, you've only seen me without clothes, and that's quite a different thing."

"I stand corrected, but I actually would like to get to know you better, with your clothes on."

"Darryl, I don't poach other women's men. I was misinformed before, but now I know that you are very much spoken for, and I will not be vamping you any more, pity though it is."

"Who told you I was spoken for?"

"You did, Darryl, although you may be lying to yourself about it, you are still very much in love. But if you are interested in getting to know me as a companion outside the bedroom; you can take me to Petrino, my favorite restaurant tonight and check out my elegant persona."

"Consider it a date."

It would have likely been a most lively and interesting evening, but it was destined to never come to pass. When Darryl returned to his hotel room, James was waiting for him.

"So tell me, how was working with Cheryl, the wild woman?"

"Very pleasant and very professional, I apologize for my prejudice before. In fact, things went so well that we have a date for dinner this evening."

"Break it, the Visas suddenly came through. We'll all be packing tonight."

"What happened, I thought we were going to be stuck here for weeks yet?"

"Things are nothing if not unpredictable. I went to the consulate today just like everyday expecting to hit the same stonewall but there was a new face on duty, and he just took our passports and stamped the visas like it was no big deal. Didn't even ask for a bribe. I don't know if he was brand new, stupid or actually honest, but I just thanked him and got the hell out of there. Then I went straight to the airport to see about tickets and that was no problem. Seems everybody is flying out of Kabul; nobody's flying in."

"What about when we get there; figure we'll be tied up long?"

"God only knows, Darryl, wouldn't surprise me to spend half a day in customs. I've gotten word to Kabir Durrani to meet us. He may be able to help. Did you get to meet his sister Azalea today?"

"Yes, I did, a very remarkable and beautiful woman and unusually comfortable on her own and in the presence of men."

"Azalea has been radically secularized by her time abroad and I don't think she'll be able to survive long under the Taliban. I hope, when we leave we'll be able to take her with us."

"I take it then that she is actually going in with us."

"Yes, and against my better judgment, but I have no way to stop her. Besides her brother Kabir, wishes it. She is an excellent interpreter so we might as well take advantage."

In the morning James, Darryl, Cheryl and Azalea all caught an early morning flight to Ankara, where they changed to an Ariana Afghan flight to carry them on to Kabul.

-------

June 1, Kabul International Airport, Kabul, Afghanistan

Darryl was amazed at the very unimposing Kabul International Airlines Terminal. The shabby little two story building was not much larger than you might expect at a larger private field. The inside was no more impressive with that special cheesy look that run down modern buildings can achieve, making their age more obvious than buildings centuries older. At least their nightmares about long hours in custom were not realized. Apparently Kabir had done a masterful job of greasing the right palms with just the right amount since they were all waved straight through.

Three well-dressed Afghan men waited for them just outside customs. The older immediately embraced James.

"James, my brother, praise Allah you have survived your adventures to visit me again. We are getting old my brother and slow. We should stop all this while we are still alive and retire somewhere quiet. We could get some fat wives and raise children and dates and olives, and let the young men play at war."

"Kabir, my brother, since when did you like your women fat and your life quiet? You wouldn't last a week. No, no, we will never change, you and I, and that is why we will never grow old."

"Perhaps not, but we can still make the younger men do most of the work. You remember my younger brothers, Khalil and Hakim?" He said waving the other forward.

"Yes of course I remember you both quite well but you were children last time I saw you. Now I see you are grown men ready to take your place at your brother's side. May I present my associates Darryl Sanders and Cheryl Woodson."

As was the custom, Kabir, being the eldest handled the greetings for his whole family.

"Ms. Woodson, I welcome you back to Afghanistan' although I could wish for happier times. Azalea tells me that you have learned two more languages, which means I may someday need to hire you as my interpreter. Mr. Sanders; this is I understand, your first trip to my poor unhappy nation. You will find a country of great history and a strong independent people. Allah in his infinite wisdom has seen fit to test us with almost two decades of unending war. Here, you will witness great beauty and great courage, alongside horror and misery. I'm sure this is a journey that will change you forever."



-------

Chapter 11: June 1-2, 1996 In Search Of New Answers

The truth is that our finest moments are most likely to occur when we are feeling deeply uncomfortable, unhappy, or unfulfilled. For it is only in such moments, propelled by our discomfort, that we are likely to step out of our ruts and start searching for different ways or truer answers.

M. Scott Peck:

South Dakota June 1-2, 1996

... I have seen that in any great undertaking it is not enough for a man to depend simply upon himself.

-Lone Man (Isna-la-wica)(Teton Sioux)

Gaho's daughter Leotie and Courtney took the Jeep for the two and a half hour drive to the tribal lands. Leotie put the time to good use in both collecting and providing information.

"Now that you are going to be on tribal land, I am going to address you as Courtney again. Many tribal members would find it offensive to hear a white person being addressed with a Native American name unless you are made a relative. You also would not be eligible to make a Lakota vision quest unless you are a relative."

"But I thought that..."

"Gaho promised to help you and she will. She has great spiritual powers and wisdom. If she does not feel you can become a relative she can still use her powers on your behalf and guide you. But because Jaclyn is a member of the tribe, a blood relative of Gaho and has been like a sister to you for many years; you are a very good candidate for Hunkapi, the rite to make you a relative. This would require your consent, of course, and Gaho's judgment that your heart is compatible with the beliefs and customs of the Lakota Sioux. Also she would have to feel a spiritual bond before she could make you part of her family."

"Wow, I hope I can measure up to all that. I'm afraid that I know very little about your customs."

"That's not so crucial. Gaho will teach you those. What is important is that your heart is not full of greed and bitterness and that you are willing to live in harmony with the earth. These are things that are not easily learned. Gaho already feels that she has a spiritual bond with you because she was able to see you in her vision before she even met you. I don't think you will have trouble connecting with her. I see you brought your guitar. That should help; she definitely loves the sound of your voice."

"What else is involved in the process of Hunk... ? I'm sorry, the name..."

"Hunkapi, that's OK, our words can be difficult. Hunkapi is fairly simple as Lakota ceremonies go. There is some ritual but a lot of it is talking about your place in the community and your responsibilities. If you become a relative, I warn you, Gaho will expect to hear from you, and see you occasionally. If you ever have children you might as well plan on them spending some of their summers here. Otherwise you would be no true relative."

"I don't think this will be a problem. Jaclyn, or Olathe I should call her, has told me that her summers here were the very happiest memories she has of childhood. I would not deny my children that experience. Can I ask you what it is like to be the actual child of Gaho?"

"Certainly you may. As you know, Gaho has many children who claim her as a spiritual mother, but as far as actual blood descendants, there are only me and my twin brother Odakota. My father passed away when we were young, so Gaho has reared us by herself. She is a wise and loving mother and she has sacrificed much for us. I am attempting to pay back to my people by combining the traditional spiritual healing of my mother and mainstream psychology, hoping to find the best of both. I have a degree in Community Counseling from the University of South Dakota. This fall I will start taking courses in Lakota Studies at Sinte Gleska University to learn more about the tradition and history of my people. Most of all, I have been learning from Gaho all my life, and while I may never have her spiritual powers, she has taught me much. I can do things and visualize things that I cannot explain with my psychology training. Gaho's powers are even more outside of western conventions of psychology."

"Then why do you bother learning the psychology at all?"

"Many of the traditional ways only work well on subjects who are cooperative and share similar beliefs. That's one reason you will need preparation for a vision quest. Unfortunately, some of our own people, especially young people, have drifted away from the old traditions, and Gaho's methods do not work as well. Substance abusers are another problem. Gaho says she can make no connection with a person on drugs, it's just not possible. In these cases, my more conventional methods are useful."

"I guess I'm sort of a problem being ignorant of the traditions. Will you be helping Gaho with me?"

"Very astute Courtney, as a matter of fact I am even as we speak. That makes my job a little simpler since you've already guessed; I won't even pretend that we're just two girls chatting to kill time. I want to use this trip to gather some personal history and background. Is that alright with you?"

"Of course, I don't see how you could be expected to help me without it."

"Wonderful, I had Olathe give me enough information to know where to start. And I want to start with your relationship with Darryl. Where did you first meet him?"

"My best friend's grandparents had this house on a lake with a dock. We snuck out one night, and I met him there when we were eight."

"And what happened that night?"

"We kissed."

"Did he kiss you or did you kiss him?"

"Does it really matter, we were eight?"

"Sometimes relationship patterns show up very early, please try to answer and be as honest and open as possible."

"OK, it was definitely me, I grabbed him and kissed him and jumped up before he could react."

"Courtney, did anything else unusual happen or was anything unusual said that evening?"

"I told him I was going to marry him someday."

"Allowing for your age, were you in your own mind serious when you told him that?"

"Completely."

"In your entire life, have you ever said anything like that to anybody else?"

"No, I never have."

"In your entire life have you ever told another man that you love him?"

"No, I never have."

"When was your first sexual experience involving another person, and was that person male or female?"

"Fourteen, and male."

"Darryl?"

"Yes, all my early sexual experience was with him."

"At what age did you lose your virginity?"

"Nineteen."

"Darryl?"

Courtney hesitated then in almost a sob, "NO, but it should have been. It was the stupidest mistake of my life. I just got cold feet."

"Darryl wouldn't wait?"

"Darryl was wonderfully patient, but before we could get together to try again, my father deserted us and we had to move away to avoid creditors."

"Is your father still alive?"

"No, he was killed by a very large truck while riding around in his fancy sports car with his latest slut."

"Did you cry when your father died?"

"No, I felt a bit sorry for the girl, I felt nothing for him."

"Courtney, it is very rare for a daughter to feel nothing at her father's death, even in cases of desertion. Is there more that you haven't told me?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Don't block on me Courtney, I need it all. Did your father beat you?"

"No, he never hit me."

"Did he sexually molest you?" Instead of answering, Courtney began to weep and curled up in a ball on the seat as though she wanted to disappear.

"Oh God," Leotie said, "He did. I'm so sorry. I'm pulling over." Leotie pulled the Jeep well off the road while Courtney trembled with emotion.

"Let it out, Courtney, it's OK to cry. Breathe into it."

Finally Courtney lay still and began to dry her face.

"I'm sorry Leotie, I've never talked about that to anyone and I thought I had it safely buried."

"The real crime of sexual abuse of children is that the effects can last a lifetime. Did your mother know?"

"Oh no, I've never told her, and I never will. She would blame herself."

"And who do you blame?"

"I always thought there was something I did to deserve it, that it was somehow my fault. Oh I hated him for touching me, but I also blamed myself. I think I still do somehow although I know that's wrong. I didn't deserve that. I just wanted my daddy to love me."

Leotie saw the tears start to well up. "We won't talk about this anymore today. We will deal with it with Gaho's help. I think it may well be the underlying cause of some of the trouble you are having trusting more of your life to another person. Your trust was betrayed by the very person who was supposed to protect you. Let's talk about what we're going to do. You must have questions about the vision quest."

"I have a million but some I will save for Gaho. How do you see the vision quest working?"

"I'm not sure psychology has all of those answers but we do recognize the combination of isolation, deprivation, fasting and meditation as powerful stimulators of deep introspective thought, and even hallucinations. Which is just a fancy way of saying that while the classic vision quest is a uniquely Lakota Sioux tradition, cultures worldwide have independently evolved surprisingly similar customs for the same purpose. The Australian Aborigines on Walk About, Buddhist Monks, and Hindu holy men all use getting away from material things, fasting and meditation in an attempt to reach a deeper insight. Western medicine has also studied how the lack of stimuli and the partial starvation promote hallucinations or, if you prefer, visions. Modern science has a great deal more trouble explaining how these visions are often proven right."

"Is it coincidence or wishful thinking or true insight?"

"You tell me, you were there on the phone. How did Gaho know about Olathe's love affair? How did she know to ask me for the recordings of the woman who was like a sister to Olathe? She knew you were in emotional distress and had lost your beautiful voice. My mother knows nothing about pop music, how did she know I had recordings? How did she know you would call? I have lived with the woman my entire life, and I have no explanation of how she sees the things she sees. I don't think she does either."

The conversation carried them over the flat desolation of the South Dakota landscape. Before long they had pulled into a modest village of homes and a few stores which Leotie identified as her hometown, a settlement of her tribe. The Jeep pulled up to one modest but very well kept home, somewhat larger than most others in the village. Standing on the porch were a large full breasted woman, with a face that radiated warmth, and a very handsome figure of a man in a khaki uniform with such classic chiseled Native American features he might have just stepped out of a conservation poster. There was no mistaking the family resemblance, so before introductions Courtney knew she was in the presence of Leotie's twin brother Odakota and, of course, her mother Gaho. Courtney was not sure exactly how to behave, how to be friendly yet not too familiar. Before she had really decided, she found herself all but smothered in Gaho's ample bosom.

"Hola, my poor child, you must be starving and exhausted. We'll get you fed as soon as we've done our introduction. This handsome young man is my son, Odakota, which means friend. He is the sheriff of the local Lakota tribal land."

The young man stepped forward eagerly. "Hola, I am a fan of yours. I have most of your CDs. I spotted your guitar. Will you sing to us while you are here?"

"Hola, I take it that means 'Hello'?"

"Yes, hola is Lakota for a greeting like hello but many other tribes use it now."

"Well then hola, Odakota, I'm always glad to meet a fan, especially when he's so handsome. And yes, if you will invite me, I would be happy to sing for you."

"We'll never get him out of here now," laughed Leotie. She relented when she saw Odakota's embarrassment. "I'm teasing you bro, I'm just as big a fan as you."

Gaho put her hands on her hips in the universal mothers pose, "perhaps her fan club would make itself useful and bring in her things. I'm taking her inside to the kitchen."

The kitchen in this case was obviously the center of family life, filled with a tribal-sized table and wonderful smells that tantalized Courtney, who was indeed hungry from her trip. The stove and cooking equipment were old but restaurant sized and well cared for. It was obviously designed for the serious feeding of large groups of people.

"Tell me dear, what can I fix you? It's hardly morning but I was thinking you might like a good hearty breakfast. If not, I can probably fix anything you'd like."

"As always, you know my mind, I would love a big breakfast. Emphasis on big."

"Count me in," said Leotie as she joined them, "and bro here counts double."

"Except I'm counting on the two of you to give me a hand in the kitchen."

Under Gaho's practiced supervision a hearty breakfast of flapjacks, eggs and thick country bacon was quickly prepared and as quickly devoured. Then Gaho shooed Odakota off to his job and joined Leotie and Courtney at the table.

"Are you up to a little talking, Courtney? Or would you prefer to rest before we start."

"Breakfast revived me, and as long as you keep me supplied with this marvelous cake, I'll talk all day. What is it? I'd love the recipe."

"It's traditional Lakota plum cake. Besides the usual butter, flour, and baking soda, it's made from dark raisins, purple plums, toasted hazelnuts, cloves, honey, and maple syrup. I'll teach you how to make it. I think we will need a good supply. Courtney, you are carrying a great deal of pain, I know we have a lot to discuss. And that was before I saw that you were betrayed by your father. That is a knife that cuts very deep. Every girl is supposed to be able to trust her father to protect her."

Courtney turned a questioning look towards Leotie, who had not had a chance to talk to Gaho; Leotie simply shrugged.

"I have no explanation. I have lived with her all my life and have a graduate degree in the working of the human mind, and I have no more idea how she does it than a pebble knows how a mountain is made."

Gaho took Courtney's arm and smiled.

"Science is a wonderful thing, and I suppose the day may come when they can explain every miracle. But I hope these tired old eyes do not live to see a world with no magic, no medicine. I would see it as a world without hope and wonder. Leotie went away to a great school to learn how I could know things and see things that others could not. But all she learned was that those professors of white man's knowledge have no more idea than she." Gaho's eyes sparkled as she obviously found this a great joke.

Fascinated and glad for the change in topic away from herself, Courtney asked, "Did they actually study you and your techniques?"

"Oh yes," replied Leotie, "she spent a week there as a guest of the department and presented several demonstrations; some of which were remarkable, to say the least, and well outside the ability of mainstream psychology to explain."

"And how did your professors deal with that?"

"The best of them were fascinated and learned that there were still areas better known to the ancient ones than to modern science. Some just preferred to not believe their own eyes and ears when confronted with something new and unexplained, and just ignored the whole thing."

Gaho laughed heartily at this. "They called themselves men of science and yet for some their eyes were blind to anything new. How can that be science? They were no better than chattering monkeys with fancy titles. But there were also some that possessed wisdom. Some of what they taught Leotie has value. She can sometimes see inside the mind in ways I cannot, but which can help explain a vision."

"I think sometimes my mother's love for me causes her to exaggerate my contribution, but I do think we make a good team. I act as her apprentice on a vision quest."

"What my sweet daughter is saying in a kind way is that my old bones are reluctant to sleep upon the ground as the spiritual guide must do to watch out over the vision seeker. I rely on her in more ways than she knows. One Way is to see with different eyes. I know that Leotie has asked you many questions as you came here today. Now, if you will be patient, I will send her away and I will ask you my questions. Many may be very similar but you must listen with fresh ears and answer what I ask. Then while you sleep, Leotie and I will see through each other's eyes by sharing. This will make our vision more complete, and we may know better how to help you find your song."

"I will do anything, I feel quite desperate. Nothing has helped so far. Do not be afraid of tiring me. I am used to a tough touring schedule."

"There may be days here when you feel more tired than ever in your life but not today. Today you and I will talk, and this evening you will meet our tribal elders to be considered for becoming a relative. Then you'll get a good night's sleep, because tomorrow you will learn to ride a horse and start to learn the ways of the outdoors. And don't look so worried, child; I will be holding your hand every step. I promised Olathe to be a mother to you and Gaho does not let her children fail or come to harm."

Courtney was actually surprised at just how much comfort she found in the promise of this extraordinary woman. She knew now that it was very important to her to be made a relative because she did want Gaho to be a part of her life and the life of any children she might have someday. She found that Gaho's questions did cover much of the same ground as Leotie's but focused more on her inner being, her feelings, her dreams, her fears. She also found she got a little motherly advice, but only when she asked for it. And when she did ask, she got brutal honesty. Fishing for reassurance that she had done the right thing refusing to cut back her tours just to please Darryl, she put the question to Gaho.

"You won, Courtney; you defended your right to run your own life and control your own tour schedule. You did not sell out your independence for the sake of being married. You have it all: success, glamour, fame, wealth. No one can boss you around... and you're so miserably unhappy you can't even sing. You turn your back on true love at your own peril."

"Do you mock me, Gaho?"

"No, I remind you that the modern world has freed women to pursue careers, wealth, fame and power that were too often held only for men, and that is good. Choice is good. But for those in whom the fire of womanhood and motherhood burns strong, there is no wealth or fame or power or earthly good that can replace the love of a woman for her man or the feeling of a child feeding at her breast. These are experiences so profound that men can only guess at them. They have only sex and think it moves the earth. The passions a woman can feel compared to that is like the prairie fire is to a cook fire. You have let these things go, and everything else in your life has turned to ashes in your mouth. You will not find happiness without them."

Courtney looked as though she had been slapped. Then her face clouded with anger and it looked as though she was forming a retort. Gaho waited impassively but no response came. Finally Courtney's face acknowledged her defeat and she began to weep in despair. Gaho pulled Courtney to her bosom and stroked her hair.

"It's all right my child; I would never have told you so bluntly what you must have for happiness if I weren't going to help you get it. I promise I will help put your life right again, and I do not make promises lightly. I want you to go rest awhile and then we will prepare to meet the elders.

When Courtney awoke, Gaho was already hard at work in the kitchen preparing the meal. Odakota and Leotie sat with Courtney to help her prepare for the council. Just before the guests were scheduled to arrive, Gaho sat down and gave her a few pointers for the meeting.

"First, I don't want you to be nervous," said Gaho, "This will not be an inquisition. You will be among friends. There is no actual requirement to get approval to make you a relative, but it is a good practice. There are surprising numbers of people who want to become honorary Indians for the wrong reasons."

"Really? What, for example?"

"Some just want to buy a little piece of the Old West," said Odakota,"and they are relatively harmless. Some are looking for legal loopholes like opening a casino, but that seldom works. The real problem is what we call the 'Twinkies'."

"What in the world are they?"

"New Agers, the Birkenstock crowd. They've practically overrun places like Sedona. What they want is to rip off our religion so that they can sell "Vision Quest" packages or other religious or pseudo religious ceremonies and tokens to tourists claiming legitimacy because they are real Native Americans. It's a sore point, as if I hung out with your family just so I could start offering Holy Communion, even though I had no idea about the spirituality behind it."

"That's awful."

"Yes it is," said Leotie, "It seems as though we are being robbed of the one thing we had left, our heritage."

"And it is why you cannot do a Vision Quest unless you are first made a relative. But it will be important tonight to convince the elders that you are not becoming a relative only to have a Vision Quest and then never to be heard from again."

"Oh no, Gaho, I already told you that I want you and your family to be a part of my life and the life of my future children and I mean that."

"Then that is what you should tell them. And if you have any ideas on how you might contribute to the good of the tribe and the community, that will count in your favor. But I warn you; I know that you are very wealthy, but offers of charity handouts will not win favor."

"I understand that. This afternoon while I was supposed to be napping Leotie helped me reach Olathe, and I have an idea I'll keep as a surprise, but I think they may like it."

Gaho turned a questioning look towards Leotie who just smiled enigmatically but Gaho decided trust was part of becoming family and decided to wait and be surprised.

They were joined for dinner by two gentlemen, one Courtney guessed to be seventy years or older although his rugged fitness belied that figure. Gaho introduced him as Stephen Lone Eagle, Chairman of the Tribal Council.

"Hola, Courtney, it is a pleasure to meet you. I apologize for 'Chairman', everyone is disappointed to find we don't have Chiefs anymore, and we are elected to office. I hope you aren't disappointed. And I might as well tell you up front that my granddaughter has already informed me that if I don't approve you, I might as well not come home."

"I am not disappointed in the least, and I insist I be judged like anyone else. If you have to rule against me, I will go see your granddaughter myself and make it right. In fact, I would love to meet her anyway."

"And this other gentleman is Al Grey Wolf, also a long time member of our council."

"Hola, Courtney and welcome. No one on this council would ever dare vote against Gaho, but I came to meet you, and for the meal. She is the best cook in South Dakota."

With that everyone sat down for a generous and delicious meal featuring buffalo steaks cooked in Gaho's unique variant of chicken fried which made them fork tender. Lots of fresh vegetables rounded out the meal. Baskets of traditional Lakota fry bread made sure that any extra tummy room was taken up. Then Odakota and Leotie excused themselves, Gaho served coffee and Lakota plum cake, and the serious discussion began.

Stephen Lone Eagle, as chairman spoke. "Courtney, it is tradition that I will ask the questions, and at the end Al Grey Wolf will be allowed to ask any additional questions he may wish. After that, Gaho, as your advocate, may respond if she felt any questions were unfair or prejudiced against you. That makes this all sound a lot more solemn and scary than it is going to be. The Lakota people are hospitable, and we love to welcome new relatives to join us. Our only purpose is to screen for those that might be using us for their own interests, and not in the interest of our people. In truth there is little chance you would be able to fool Gaho, so this will really be a chance for us to get acquainted. Are you comfortable?"

"Yes, thank you, and how should I address you Chairman Lone Eagle?"

"As a soon to be relative and friend I would prefer Stephen. OK, my first question. I believe you are close already to a member of this tribe, are you not?"

"Yes, Olathe, who is one quarter Lakota and has lived here with Gaho for several summers. She has lived with me like a sister, and she is my business manager and closest friend for over ten years. It was she who referred me here for help."

"I realize that you have come here in a personal crisis which must be the immediate priority. Later when that is resolved, do you intend to maintain a relationship with Gaho and this community?"

"Very much so, I have found her to be a great source of strength and wisdom. I often need this kind of support after completing a long concert tour, when I am burned out. I also love the solitude. If she will have me, I want Gaho and her family to be a part of my life. I also want her to play a large role in the life of my future children, so that she may teach them to be gentle to the earth, and to each other. With the council's permission, I would like to investigate acquiring a small plot of land, where I could build a permanent cabin of my own."

"I'm sure that would be possible. One concern might be that we don't particularly desire being overrun by paparazzi. Would your time here be kept low key?"

"Absolutely, on my end; otherwise the value as a quiet retreat would be lost."

"Do you plan to publicize your status as a member of a Native American tribe?"

"I have no reason to do so, unless the tribal council feels it is in the best interest of the tribe; for example, to publicize a cause. I will accept your guidance on this. I have no need or wish to exploit this for my benefit."

"That does bring us to my next question. A relative is expected to be a member of the community and contribute in some way to the common good. I realize you have been here only very briefly, but have you had any ideas where you might fit in?"

"I've had three ideas so far Stephen, if I may. First, and I suppose most obvious, is that I am willing to put my talents to use as the council sees fit, for example, a local concert, a fund-raising concert, music demonstrations in the schools, things like that."

"That's almost overwhelming Courtney. You are an international superstar. A concert by you is worth a great deal of money."

"That does not excuse me from putting my talents, whatever they are worth, to work for my community. My second idea I got from reading the local paper. I read that the proposed new pediatric wing of the tribal medical center had lost its federal funding because of a shift in the political winds. I hate when politics affect the wellbeing of children. The Courtney Archer Foundation exists solely to help with worthwhile children's projects. You understand that I do not control the foundation or its funding choices, but I will help Olathe write a great application and give it my highest endorsement. I think it will be very competitive. I'm assuming that your dislike of 'charity' doesn't apply when it comes to getting your children the best possible medical care."

"You are correct; we have no pride that keeps us from doing everything in our power for our children's welfare. We would gratefully accept your help applying for a grant to finish the wing."

"And third, I read about your best and brightest young people leaving the reservation because of lack of opportunity. This will bleed a community to death. Olathe is always telling me that we need to find new investments for the profits from my music, or it will all be taxed away. I was on the phone with her discussing some ideas for businesses we could invest in that would be tribe-owned and operated. There are apparently some nice tax advantages to investing in Native American owned businesses. This would not be charity; this would be a for profit enterprise which if successful, would offer the opportunity for a few more young people to stay here."

"In principle, a wonderful concept, but we are remote. The land is poor, and our skilled labor pool limited. We have not come up with a good idea ourselves. I would like to hear your idea."

"We are thinking of buffalo ranching. They can live off this country, and their presence here actually restores the natural balance rather than destroying it. Right now buffalo is an expensive novelty meat with a limited market, but Olathe thinks two things will push future growth. People are getting more health conscious and buffalo is much leaner, and has much lower fat and cholesterol than beef. The health conscious consumer will be able to eat healthy and eat their steak at the same time. Second, this March, Britain had an outbreak of mad cow disease. Many experts predict that in the long run, this disease will not be completely contained, and people will gradually quit eating beef out of fear of contamination. Apparently buffalo are not susceptible to the disease and will offer a safe substitute for a fearful public. There is, of course, competition from other buffalo ranchers, but I think that clever marketing can take advantage of the tribal connection. In the public mind, who would be a better source for buffalo than the Lakota Sioux? Running the ranch would take advantage of the fact that many of your people ride well and like the outdoors. Running the business of the ranch would offer management opportunities for your brightest young people."

Courtney's presentation obviously stunned her audience. It went far beyond anyone's expectations but as they looked at each other and nodded, it was obvious that the initial reaction was positive. Stephen Lone Eagle finally responded.

"Courtney, I am amazed at how quickly you have come up with some ideas with real merit both regarding the hospital and now this. I think in the near future we will want the full council to meet with you and Olathe. I have no other questions for you. Al, how about you?"

"Just one. First Courtney, I want to say that I think all of your ideas could be very important to this community and should be followed up. I thank you for them. My only question is this. Now that we know all that you can contribute to us, what can we do for you? I am wondering about your family, who are they and how much of a role they play in your life?'

"My only living relative is my mother. We get along well, in the sense that she is affectionate and loves me, but we have little else in common, and I cannot really turn to her for help or support because she has no real understanding of my world. She does faithfully keep track of every TV show I appear on, and measures my success strictly in terms of which shows I'm on. She's never seen me in concert because she doesn't understand 'hippie music'. Olathe and Karl Jager, my chief of security, have both been with me since college and are like my brother and sister."

"So you are, in a real sense, looking for a family?"

"Yes, I really am, and I feel I have found one here, even after just one day."

"Gaho, do you have anything to add or do you wish to challenge any of our questions?"

"Of course not Stephen, you are always a fair man."

"Have you chosen a name for her yet?"

"I have chosen Ominotago, which means beautiful voice, it is Chippewa but it seemed to fit so well and I liked the sound of it."

"And so do I. Courtney, as Chairman of the Tribal Council I recognize you as Ominotago and authorize the ceremony of Hunkapi, so that an enduring bond of community may be made between you and our people. It will take about four days to complete, but I will go ahead and welcome you now."

With that the old man rose and put his arms around her and she impulsively kissed him on the cheek, which he did not seem to mind. Nor, in fact did Al Grey Wolf when he lined up to receive the same treatment. Then, the hour being late, the councilmen said their goodnights and left, whereupon Odakota and Leotie reappeared like magic to offer their excited congratulations.

"Well Gaho, how did I do?"

"How did you do? Great howling coyotes woman! How did you do, indeed. You had them eating out of the palm of you hand is how you did. I wasted my time cooking that big dinner; we could have fed them alfalfa and it wouldn't have mattered. When you offered to put on a concert, they liked you a lot. When you asked if you could build your own cabin, they both were completely smitten. When you offered to help finish the hospital wing, they both were completely in love with you, and when you came up with that brilliant buffalo ranch idea they were ready to have your baby. You are so good at this, you scare me."

"Well I had help you know, Odakota told me about the kids all leaving and the hospital wing. Leotie helped me get in touch with Olathe and work on the ranch idea. But I want you all to know that none of this was a show or a sham. I meant every word I said, and you can check with Olathe to see if my word is good."

"I already did, and your word is solid. If it wasn't you would never have been invited here. I do not lie, and I do not tolerate those who do. The Hopi have a saying 'Lose your temper and you lose a friend; lie and you lose yourself.'.

But now my children, all of you, to bed, tomorrow our new relation must learn to ride."

The next day, after a typical Gaho breakfast feast, Courtney was ready to venture into the western wilderness. Her choice of jeans and a denim shirt passed muster but it was immediately decided that a shopping trip needed to be scheduled that afternoon to get her into proper boots and a hat.

"These are not fashion items out here Ominotago. The boots protect your feet from injury and the hat protects you from the sun, which is brighter here than you are used to."

"And I'm afraid you're going have to make some underwear adjustments," said Leotie, "Forget sexy, because frankly the coyotes don't care anyway. You want 100% cotton granny britches if you're going to ride. Also stock up on those nice soft sports bras. It will save you from a lot of chaffing."

"Most of this first morning was spent on getting to know her horse, saddling up, trail equipment and everything that goes into getting ready for a trail ride. Despite Courtney's very limited experience on horseback, she proved a fast learner and was enjoying herself almost immediately. They rode out for two hours before coming to a stream where Gaho called a stop to water the horses.

"The air here is much dryer than you are used to, and it will pull the water right out of your body and your horse's. Wherever you get a chance, you water the horses and fill their saddle canteens because if they get dry, they lose their strength very rapidly. The same goes for you. Carry plenty of water always and drink it. Whether you are thirsty or not, drink it. I want you to drink so much, that the water leaving your body is as clear as the spring it came from."

"I'll try."

"Out here you'd better do more than try, my dear. Now for a morning snack I think it's time you tried wasna." She handed Courtney a small bar of a dense brown material. She nibbled at it rather timidly until the taste reassured her that it was pleasant and not some noxious concoction."

"This is good, very rich and not like anything I've ever tasted before, but I like it. Tell me what wasna is."

"Wasna can be a lot of things," answered Leotie, "wasna is Lakota for anything ground up. Everyone has a slightly different recipe but all are based on dried buffalo, dried berries, and fat or bone marrow. A pounding stone is used to grind the ingredients together. Non-Lakota tribes refer to it as pemmican. It is said to be able to raise your body's iron levels in as little as fifteen minutes. Some people make wasna that tastes so bad I wouldn't eat it if I was starving to death. Gaho makes the best. Carry a couple of bars of this with you, and you can make it through a weekend with nothing else to eat."

"I believe you; it completely takes away your hunger."

"If everyone is watered and fed we should start back. Today's ride is just a first chance for you to get used to being on a horse and to see the land around us. We have certainly achieved that and more. On the way back, I want you to concentrate on using your eyes to study the land and the creatures and plants that live on it. One of the most basic principles of our culture and our religion is a reverence for the land. You may have heard this ancient Indian proverb, but I want you to take it to your heart and make it a part of you:
'Treat the earth well: it was not given to you by your parents, it was loaned to you by your children. We do not inherit the Earth from our Ancestors, we borrow it from our Children'."

As they rode slowly back, Courtney began to truly appreciate the singular beauty of the land; but it was a desolate beauty that lay all in the details. The land itself was mostly flat and featureless, except where rivers had sculpted the terrain. The vegetation was low and unassuming. It was not the spectacular beauty of an Audubon Calendar, but a peaceful beauty of solitude, with grandeur in the sheer scale of the vast horizons and sweeping vistas.

Afghanistan June 2, 1996

Man can never be a woman's equal in the spirit of selfless service with which nature has endowed her.

Mohandas Gandhi

Darryl was looking at a considerably more dramatic terrain. The entire party had wasted no time getting away from the noisy chaos of Kabul. They were traveling in two Land Rover Defenders, fully equipped for the rugged road less travel that would often be required. Darryl and Azalea traveled together in one vehicle driven by Khalil Durrani, Azalea's brother. James and Cheryl occupied the other Rover driven by Hakim Durrani, also a sibling of Azalea's. Besides serving as drivers, both were armed with AK-47 assault rifles and were said to be well trained in their use.

Darryl was looking out on a landscape that was made up of rugged mountains surrounding the high plateaus on which they traveled. More than half the country was made up of this type of terrain, although there was flatter land, even deserts in the far south. The natural beauty of the country was marred by the extreme poverty of the inhabitants, made far worse by decades of war.

"This is a dangerous land Darryl, on many levels," explained Azalea, "That is why my brother Kabir insists on our always accompanying you and James. First the language problem; there are so many ethnic groups and different languages and very few people speak English. Cheryl speaks a few languages, but you and James would be quite helpless without an interpreter. The land itself is dangerous. There are so many unexploded bombs and unmarked minefields that some land may never be arable again. That's another reason that you must have a good interpreter to get local information on these hazards. Even then, stick to the well used foot paths and don't wander off; farmers and children are killed and maimed by those awful mines every day."

"They're trying to get them outlawed in the UN."

"I'm not sure how much good that will do but they should try anyway. Long after a war is over and the soldiers have gone home, those ungodly devices keep right on killing innocent children."

It was obviously an issue which affected her personally and for a while she turned inward and was silent. Then just as suddenly, she seemed to remember she wasn't alone and took up her instructions where she left off.

"Afghan society is a lot more complex than you are used to, and people have a lot more calls on their allegiances. In your country everyone lives under a common set of laws and principles and even your two political parties, to an outsider, are hard to tell apart. In America, religious differences tend to have little impact on day to day life. While I was there, I never saw a fight over religion although I saw several over football teams. From this I had to conclude that for some Americans, religion was less important than football."

Darryl laughed, "I can find no way to refute your astute observation."

"In Afghanistan there are three major and many smaller ethnic groups which can be quite different and antagonistic. There are six major and many minor languages and dialects and nothing like a universal language spoken by everyone. 99% of Afghans are Muslim but there are Sunni and Shiite, and the antagonism between these two sects has sometimes resulted in bloodshed. Islam and Islamic law are interpreted by the individual mullahs, one for each of the 15,000 mosques in the country. Most mullahs have little education and are very conservative, but there is no consistent religious policy nationally. The local mullah sets the local law and runs the local school, for boys only usually. On top of their Islamic religion many Afghans also believe in the supernatural and evil spirits called jinns.

While the average Afghan doesn't feel that much of a strong national identity, he is courted by the government and the Taliban. Most often the local mullah is the one approached for support. As often as not, the mullah will go with whoever gets there first, looks the most powerful, and most importantly, promises to preserve his authority."

"No wonder it's hard for an outsider to understand all the obligations and loyalties an Afghan has to balance."

"Oh harder yet, Darryl, we haven't gotten to the highest code of all. A code so ancient that it predates and supersedes even Islamic law."

"I did not know anything came above Islamic law."

"Just this, the largest ethnic group in Afghanistan is the Pushtun so their tribal code called Pushtunwali is followed by most Afghans. Its key tenets are honor, hospitality and revenge. Honor means to keep promises at all costs, and to fight to death or victory in battle. Traitors and cowards are despised above all others. Hospitality requires you to give food, shelter and protection to anyone who asks whether they be friend, bitter enemy or total stranger. And the last one, revenge, is one to never forget. If you harm or dishonor an Afghan or any member of his family, he is required to hunt you down to the ends of the earth, or if that is not possible, your family, and exact a revenge specified by the code. Feuds can continue for many generations. So be extremely careful about insulting or harming any Afghan, or you may spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder."

"I can see why many foreigners have found it difficult to deal with Afghans without misunderstandings."

"Yes, exactly. I have heard people describe Afghans as disloyal or treacherous to deal with, and I strongly disagree. Afghans have a strong sense of loyalty and despise treachery. The problem is that the foreigner will often not be able to determine where those loyalties lie and communications will breakdown. Also the failure to understand the cultural restraints imposed by religious and cultural law. I know that the British would sometimes demand and expect a criminal in hiding to be turned over to them, not understanding that that the code of hospitality made that quite impossible, no matter what the crime, if the criminal had asked for sanctuary."

"You have certainly convinced me that you are very much indispensable Azalea, and I will not try venturing out on my own. There is obviously just too much I do not understand. I'll let you handle communications and I'll stick to taking the pictures. Somehow, I think I'll last longer and do a better job."

"Good. Since my brother Kabir as head of the family has pledged his loyalty to James, that means my entire family would lay down their lives to defend James or any of his friends, including you and Cheryl. No member of my family could ever betray you. If any harm should come to any of you while you are under our protection, we will avenge you. This is why you should always keep in touch with some member of my family at all times. We are the one group here who has your well being as its first priority."

"That's a huge advantage here; I can't imagine trying to work outside the major cities without it. I have no idea how we can ever repay you."

"According to my brother, James already has, many times over, although he is unwilling to tell me how. Do you know?"

"I have no idea, and I don't think we are going to find out. There are many parts of his life that James is very silent about."

"Like the mystery woman that broke his heart so badly that he has never fallen in love again?"

"Yes, Azalea, exactly like that. It seems sometimes that it is all that Cheryl thinks about."

"Its very important to Cheryl because she is determined to be Mrs. James McNichol, and that can't happen until she knows what made him so hard to reach."

"You think that will ever happen?"

"Yes, I think it might. I think James may be getting tired of his solitary life, as men often do as they mature. No one is truly complete alone. As John Donne said back in the 16th century, 'No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent.'"

"Azalea, you never cease to amaze me with your accomplishments, to which I must now add the ability to quote Elizabethan poets."

Azalea turned and looked directly into his eyes. "No Darryl, you don't need to be impressed with my abilities to recite poetry. What you should notice is that an Afghan woman will always put her man's work and goals first in her life and never let her own conflict with them. Unlike your selfish American girlfriend who turned her back on you when you asked for a little more of her time and attention; you are my single priority and I will be at your side until you tell me that you no longer need me or want me, or until Kabir orders me away."

"I never asked that of you."

"You never had to, it was how I was raised and the only way I know. I confess that now that I know you, it is also what I choose to do of my own free will."

Darryl looked at her a long time trying to read what was behind those mysterious eyes.

"Azalea, I don't want to mislead you with hopes that I may not be able to fulfill."

"You haven't misled me and I ask nothing from you. I know very well that you are in love with Courtney Sanders and will probably go back to her, even though she doesn't deserve you. I am going to treat you the way you deserve to be treated because it will bring me pleasure to do so. And because it is right that you be treated that way."

Darryl turned back to the window, watching the rugged and often beautiful terrain pass by as he pondered the mysterious and complex ways of the female heart. An exotic beauty he hardly knew seemed willing to give herself so completely and selflessly to him and ask nothing in return, and the great love of his life would send him away rather than agree to spend a few more weeks with him each year. Is this the way it had to be? Why do we just accept whatever we are given by those we love instead of giving our love to those who earn it by meeting our every need?

Azalea was certainly as beautiful as Courtney. If they worked together long enough, would Azalea's selflessness start eroding the memory of a love that ended on such a selfish note? Darryl suspected that it would. In fact, the process had already begun. The intervals between thoughts of his lost love gradually lengthened. When he was around Azalea they grew longer still. Darryl had originally gone to James for an assignment to a place so remote that he could forget Courtney. He apparently had found it. It would take a while yet but if something didn't intervene on her behalf soon, Courtney would become just a memory.



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Chapter 12: June 2-11, 1996 Relatives Created and Friends Divided


The choices we make and the chances we take, determine our destiny.

Anon

South Dakota, June 2-5 Hunkapi

So too is the buffalo holy, because it is the gift of Wakan-Tanka.
Flat Iron (MAZA BLASKA) Oglala Sioux

The afternoon was spent doing the shopping to bring Courtney's riding outfit up to practical standards right down to some very unsexy but comfortable "granny britches" underwear. Since a good hat and good boots are essential to anyone who plans to spend serious time in the saddle they found those for her as well. This required traveling to a larger town but with both Leotie and Odakota along on the outing, Courtney did not lack for expert help. His poorly concealed crush on the pretty singer provided some humorous moments, at his expense. Besides the clothing, she also purchased a good quality wool blanket which would serve as her bed in the wilderness. On the ride back she decided to engage the usually taciturn young sheriff in conversation.

"Odakota, you say so little I don't feel like I know you very well. Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure, go ahead."

"You are an attractive man; I'd even say a hunk. So tell me, who's got your heart?"

"No one, I really don't have anyone special at all."

"Now, Odakota, that's hard to believe, what's the problem? Too shy? Too Picky?

"I don't know, I guess I just haven't met the right person."

"My brother is being too diplomatic to tell you the real reason," interjected Leotie, "He's not too picky, there just isn't anyone to pick from. It's part of the problem we discussed earlier."

"You mean the problem of the young people having to leave to find opportunity."

"Exactly, all of the bright and spirited young women that Odakota would find interesting leave. Those that stay are those that have no ambition or have no choice because of lack of ability."

"Then why have the two of you stayed? Because of Gaho?"

"Yes mostly, it's the blessing and the curse of having such a remarkable mother. And opportunity, I am Gaho's apprentice and I hope, one day, to have her skills as well as those of a social psychologist. My brother likes his job and maybe as Sheriff he's able to make the reservation a little better place. The price we pay is not being around others who we have much in common with"

"That's a stiff price to pay at your age."

"It's not so bad for me. I spend a good portion of each year at school where I have an active social life. My brother is stuck here all year round. I know it's tough on him. I get so horny just during the summer I can't imagine how he manages. And I know it's harder for guys."

"Stop Leotie, you're embarrassing me," he mumbled, his face beginning to give an extremely literal meaning to "red" man.

"Have you ever noticed, Ominotago, how easily embarrassed men are about sex?" asked Leotie, "I believe that women are a lot more honest about our needs. Men think about it a lot but women probably think about it more seriously."

"Oh I'm sure you're right about that, I sometimes think we don't let men know some of the things we are thinking because it would scare hell out of them."

"Amen sister! I'm sure my brother would be very nervous if he knew just how good he looks to me after a month or so without a date. There I am randy as hell living with the sexiest man in South Dakota and the only thing protecting him is a questionable old taboo based on pre birth-control problems. Watch out bro, one night you may find you have some company in your bed."

"Stop it Leotie! Don't joke about things like that. It's not in good taste," protested a vehement Odakota, "that's incest; it's even against the law."

"Relax bro, I'm not ready to jump your bones quite yet... but I'll bet you are in very good taste," teased a thoroughly unrepentant Leotie.

"Ominotago glanced down at Odakota's crotch where a fairly impressive tepee had suddenly sprung up.

'Well, ' she thought to herself, 'the voice may protest, but the body is sure willing. I wonder if Leotie knows? I wonder if I should tell her? Oh hell, I know damn good and well I will tell her. Most girls wouldn't mind a pow-wow with that hunk of warrior. I find him very attractive myself, but my life is quite complicated enough already, I'm definitely not looking for romance.'

That evening they rode out onto the plains to a camping spot alongside a small stream. Here they set up a campfire and cooked a simple traditional dinner of buffalo soup, prepared by placing hot rocks directly in a skin bag, accompanied by boiled Indian turnips and fry bread. Dessert was more of Gaho's wonderful Lakota plum cake,. After eating, they sat around the fire to listen to Gaho.

"I hope you can understand that I wanted to be under the open sky, the real home of the Lakota, to tell you our stories. The greatest legend is that of the White Buffalo Calf Woman. Two thousand years ago, two Lakota warriors were hunting in the Black Hills, here in what is now South Dakota. They saw a white buffalo calf, which turned into a beautiful Indian maiden as they approached. One warrior wanted to take her in an unclean way and she bade him to approach. But when he did, a black cloud covered him and when the cloud lifted he was left as a skeleton. The second warrior, learned respect from this and fell to his knees and prayed."

"She told him to return to his people and she would come in four days bearing gifts. On the forth day, a cloud came down, and from the cloud stepped the white buffalo calf. The calf became the young girl who carried a sacred bundle in her hand. She spent four days among the Lakota people and gave them a sacred pipe and seven sacred ceremonies. The seven rites are:

Nagi Gluhapi, The Keeping of the Soul; Where all outstanding issues with the dead are settled so that they may move on to the spirit world.

Inipi, The Rite of Purification, sometimes called the Sweat Lodge; In this ritual, guilt and evil are released to allow you closer to Wakan Taka, The Great Spirit.

Hanblecheyapi, Crying for a Vision, or Vision Quest; The ritual you will participate in where fasting and meditation are used in an attempt to achieve a greater vision and deeper insight.

Wiwanyag Wachipi, The Sun Dance; A ceremonial dance where the dancer's sacrifice and suffering, prevent suffering in others. Now the pain is symbolic; in ancient times, it was very real.

Hunkapi, The Making of Relatives; The ceremony in which a person is adopted into the community in a permanent bond.

Ishna Ta Awi Cha Lowan, Preparing a Girl for Womanhood, or the Puberty Rite; The ceremony that purifies a girl who has had her first menstrual cycle to welcome her to womanhood.

Tapa Wanka Yap, Throwing of the Ball; A ball game performed only by women. Remarkably, this is the only one of the seven sacred rituals not still practiced today.

The White Buffalo Calf Woman also told them that in a time of need, they should smoke from the pipe adorned with eagle feathers, and the smoke would carry their prayers upward to the gods. The pipe is now central to all Lakota rituals.

Gaho continued far into the night telling the Lakota legends and stories. Leotie and Odakota, who had heard them many times before, were just as swept up in the tales of heroes, heroines and spirits, as Ominotago. Finally, the stories came to and end and they all wrapped up in their blankets and were soon asleep. A week before, Courtney would have found the idea of sleeping on the ground rolled in a blanket ridiculous, and yet after the day of riding and the night of legends, Ominotago, as she now though of herself, slept as though it were a feather bed.

Her preparation to become a relative continued for the next two days,. her time divided between learning more about her new "family", getting accustomed to the outdoors, and meeting the community. An easy way to win friends was to keep her guitar handy, and to never refuse an invitation to sing. She was also able to beg a few hours to herself to prepare a surprise song for the Hunkapi ceremony. Compared to her usual work, it was a simple and unpretentious little ballad, but simple or not, it was the first new song she had been able to write since Darryl left. She felt herself healing just from the strength she absorbed from Gaho, who radiated it like the sun radiates warmth.

The night before was spent busily cooking and planning for the next day. Ominotago laughed at the hustle. "I seem to recall someone telling me that Hunkapi is a very simple ceremony. So what's all this commotion about then?"

"The ceremony is simple enough," replied Gaho, But that doesn't mean the whole village is going to pass up an excuse to throw a big party, especially for a celebrity like you."

"There's another problem, what are the chances of this thing not being completely overrun by press and paparazzi?"

"Very good, how are they going to find out?"

"The whole town knows."

"The whole town is also Lakota Sioux; we have a few hundred years of experience to tell us that keeping things to ourselves is a good idea. There will be no leaks from here. Also, we've got a pretty tough sheriff if someone did get greedy"

"In that case," laughed Ominotago, "This will be the smallest audience for a song debut in my entire career. That is, if you don't count the song I wrote just for Darryl, which had an audience of one. But then it will never be released to a larger audience."

"Even now?"

"Yes, even now. No matter what happens, or maybe doesn't happen, between us in the future, I can never forget what Darryl meant to me. He knows I will always hold his song in a special place in my heart, just for the two of us. Why do you ask?"

"It may be important; it gives the two of you a very special connection."

"I'm not feeling very connected right now, Gaho, I just feel very empty." "I know child, I know you do. It won't always be that way. Trust me."

"I do Gaho; you've done so much already. I'm probably just tired."

"Not surprising, we've crammed a lot in a few days, but we need you fresh tomorrow as guest of honor. You head to bed now and get good night's sleep."

Courtney did as suggested, and her head had no more touched the pillow than she was sound asleep. It seemed only moments later that Leotie was waking her for a big Gaho breakfast. After breakfast, they spent a quiet morning together as a family, the first time they had been able to do so. When the time for the ceremony approached, they all went to the tribal ceremonial lodge. Gaho, Leotie, and Odakota all wore ceremonial clothing including beaded vests and moccasins. Once again Gaho presided.

"The Hunkapi ceremony is really conducted between two individuals. Since I am the Medicine Woman, Leotie will represent the family. This morning's ceremony is a private one of purification and after prayer, I will paint your faces to symbolize rebirth."

Gaho prayed in Lakota and shared a sacred pipe with Leotie and Ominotago to purify them. Then she painted their faces using traditional Lakota designs.

"The rest of the ceremony will involve the whole village. Ominotago, Odakota will now take you with him and he will help you find a place to hide. Nothing too hard now, this is a ceremony not a chance to embarrass your sister."

Gaho and Leotie waited an adequate interval and then left the lodge and joined the crowd of villagers gathering there. Stephen Lone Eagle, the tribal chairman arrived, and he joined Gaho and the crowd quieted expectantly.

Stephen Lone Eagle arose. "Does anyone here today wish to make a new relative today?"

Leotie stood up. "I do."

"Where is your new relative?"

"I do not know."

"Go and find your relative."

Leotie quickly began to make her way through the village in her quest, entertaining the guests, who were generous with advice and encouragement. About the time, Leotie was beginning to wonder if Odakota had tried just a little too hard she spied a painted face sitting under a tree. Taking Ominotago s hand she led her back to Stephen Lone Eagle and Gaho.

"I've found her."

Stephen Lone Eagle conducted the Pipe Ceremony using the sacred pipe from the legend of White Buffalo Calf Woman. Leotie wrapped a Star Quilt around Ominotago, and tied an immature Golden Eagle plume attached to a quilled rawhide medicine wheel to her hair.

Stephen Lone Eagle rose and asked Leotie, "What is the new name of your relative?"

"She is to be called Ominotago, beautiful voice."

Stephen Lone Eagle turned to the assembled villagers. "Our sister Leotie has made a new relative who shall be called Ominotago, she of the beautiful voice. As you know we traditionally honor new relatives with an honor song. Because our new relative has such a great talent we are going to let her do the honor song herself. I understand that she has written it just for this occasion and that no one has ever heard it before this moment."

Ominotago rose and took her guitar. Strangely, despite the many concerts she had given before huge audiences, she felt more nervous performing in this intimate group than she had in years. On the other hand, she sensed more feeling in her voice than she'd had since Darryl left. The song itself was a simple ballad based on the legend of the White Buffalo Calf Woman. Not surprisingly, the entire village loved it and she was forced to sing it twice, and would have probably had to sing it many more times, if Stephen Lone Eagle had not intervened on her behalf.

The final step of the ceremony was for Leotie to offer Ominotago some wasna and fry bread, as a way of saying that they were taking on the responsibility of making sure that she is fed, and taken care of. This was the signal for the beginning of a feast for the whole village and a chance for everyone to welcome the new relative.

Afghanistan June 3 — 11, 1996

Courage is simply the willingness to be afraid and act anyway.
Dr Robert Anthony

The little expedition of two Land Rover Defenders continued across the highland plateaus. Darryl and Azalea rode in one driven by Khalil Durrani and James and Cheryl in the other driven by Hakim Durrani. The trip so far had become an all too repetitious story of a beautiful land on which lived a courageous but destitute people. They had glorious traditions and history, but little to eat and less of a future. Conditions, always harsh, were made all the more unendurable by decades of war, including the current civil war. If the future held little promise for the men, it held less for the women. It was looking more and more as though the only likely peace would be as a result of a victory of the ultra conservative Taliban. For women, this victory would mean the loss of those few precious freedoms and opportunities they had. They had only a world of no education, no life outside the home, no privilege not controlled by a male, and even this viewed through the tiny window of their burqas.

Yet despite the grinding poverty, their most fundamental code required them to offer hospitality even to these strangers who arrived in expensive automobiles, wearing expensive clothing, carrying expensive equipment. The law of hospitality was absolute and was often embarrassing to Darryl; when he witnessed those with almost nothing, wishing so sincerely to share with him, when he had so much. Refusing their gifts or clumsily giving his in return, could give great offense so Azalea had to carefully restrain his generous nature, before he insulted his hosts.

The party had been working almost a week, when two more identical Land Rovers joined them. In the lead vehicle was Kabir Durrani, Azalea's oldest brother, James's long time friend and protector of the expedition. He called them all together for an urgent meeting.

"I've come from Kabul, in person, to bring you a warning. You may all be in grave danger and it may be beyond my powers to protect you."

"What sort of danger?" asked James, "I mean over and beyond the dangers we already face here."

"This is indeed graver than you have faced before James; this is nothing less than a high level organized attempt to murder American journalists."

"The government? Why?

"The truth is I'm not sure who is behind it. It could be the government, or a least a faction within the government. I somehow doubt it. I don't see what they hope to gain. They need world opinion on their side, and they are mostly made up of ex- Mujahidin, who are generally well disposed towards America, because of help during their war with the Russians. But that's the ruling council, and they control Kabul and maybe half the country. They are so poorly united and organized other groups control other areas and who knows, it could be one of them. My guess the threat is coming from the Taliban. They dislike western influences and the media and especially American media,"

"Still, isn't assassination of journalists a bit extreme a reaction."

"Yes it is, especially when you remember that the Taliban are religious students and strict interpreters of the Koran. I think there may be some outside influences at work as well. A Saudi born militant named Osama bin Laden, who has been linked with various radical Islamic causes, was recently expelled from the Sudan and has come here to assist the Taliban. His movement, Al Qaeda, is well funded and provides training and technology such as small Nissan trucks, what you Americans call pick up trucks. They mount machine guns in the rear, put on oversized tires and have low cost but deadly desert fighting vehicles. It's one reason for the Taliban's rapid advance."

"Any particular reason to suspect this bin Laden?"

"Just this: he truly hates America and Americans. He sees your country as the one great enemy of Islam. It is rumored that he is planning to personally declare war on the United States."

"This one man is going to declare war on the most powerful nation on earth. What is he going to do, storm New York in a Nissan pick-up?"

"I know it sounds ridiculous. But my friend, please do not underestimate this man. He is very dangerous. He is a trained engineer and he has more on his staff. He gets a lot of money from Saudi Arabia. If he isn't destroyed, he will find a way to inflict a serious wound, sooner or later."

"If he is behind it, any idea of when or how he plans to do us in?"

"I have no details at all, nor am I likely to get them."

"With so little hard information, how do you know it's even a real threat?"

"Because it came from an honorable man I know. As you know, our code of honor makes it virtually impossible for us to betray our family or any group to which we owe our loyalty. Sometimes loyalties can be in conflict and hard decisions must be made. My information came from one who knew more but which he would never betray. But he also has some allegiance to my family. He knew that I had taken responsibility for the safety of this group and did not wish to see me dishonored by my failure to do so. He came to warn me that if I did not convince you to leave Afghanistan immediately, your lives would be forfeit."

"So you don't feel there is anything we can do to adequately defend ourselves?"

"No, I think this attack will come in overwhelming force. That is why I no longer feel that I can guarantee your safety. I recommend most strongly that you abandon your assignment and leave Afghanistan immediately. Your very lives depend on it."

"If we deicide to stay, will you still support us with body guards and vehicles."

"Of course, I even brought some additional guards, but I tell you in my professional opinion, it will make no difference."

James rose and faced the others. "Thank you Kabir, for you honestly and frankness. I think now I want each of us to take the next half hour considering our options. Remember, you are talking about weighing your entire future existence against finishing this one assignment. Please think carefully. There will be other assignments. Don't let pride rob you of your future. When you return, please hand me a slip of paper with just your name and the words stay or go."

Darryl walked over to a small rock formation, which cast a little shade, and sat down. His immediate reaction was just to assume that he should continue, but more mature consideration questioned this. So far the Pulitzer Prize image had eluded him. There was war and suffering in abundance, but the world had grown weary of pictures of war and suffering; especially in Afghanistan where war had been endless for decades. Was he accomplishing anything worth dying for? Probably not. Could he or would he abandon a professional assignment under fire? Probably not.

A familiar voice interrupted his thoughts. "A thousand pardons, Darryl, but may I intrude on your deliberations?"

"No intrusion Azalea, I would value your personal advice."

"Darryl, I am an Afghan woman, it is not my place to bother a man with my personal thoughts. I came to offer my advice as your guide and cultural advisor only."

"Please Azalea, we are alone. Don't pull this walking seven steps behind crap on me now. I know you are a very well educated and very intelligent woman who knows a great deal more than me about this land and people. It is what is in your heart and mind that I want to know, complete, straight up and don't bother sugar coating it. Give it to me as straight as you would give it to Cheryl."

"It would be difficult for me to speak to you that way."

"I'll make it easier; your orders from Kabir are to serve me and help me get my job done, whatever it requires, is that not correct?"

"Those are my instructions."

"I demand and require your complete honesty and candor."

"As you wish. Darryl, you need to understand that it shamed my brother to have to come and admit that he cannot protect you as he has taken an oath to do. My brother is very powerful and would use all of his power to keep an oath. Therefore this danger is too big for Kabir to handle, and that is very ominous. You are a man Darryl, a man of courage. You will not want to run from danger, it will feel like cowardice. It is cowardice to run from a man, it is not cowardice to run from a tiger. To fight a fight you cannot win is not courage, it is only foolishness. This has become a dangerous and evil place Darryl. You don't belong here. I don't even think I belong here any more. This land has been bleaching the bones of foolish foreigners for thousands of years... Go home Darryl, go home to your singer and have lots of babies. Don't add your bones to the desert here."

Without another word and without waiting for a response she walked away leaving a rattled Darryl to complete his contemplations.

At the appointed time, they came back together and everyone gave James a slip of paper as requested. He opened them briefly and put them in his pocket.

"Everyone has decided to continue. If at anytime you wish to reconsider, please let me know. We'll be moving on after lunch. An additional vehicle with body guards will be joining us."

Darryl looked around for reactions. Azalea's face was completely neutral but as he passed her, he thought he saw a single tear drop roll down her cheek. He thought Cheryl looked slightly disappointed as though she had hoped for a different outcome. Darryl stopped her.

"Cheryl, you didn't want to go home? I had the feeling your work was largely finished."

"Between you and me, I wouldn't mind going home, but I guess I'll stick it as long as James does."

"You've got to know that James's is not leaving here until he's satisfied that he's completed the assignment, if it takes him a year."

"I know, it comes with the package."

"Azalea doesn't seem to think our prospects are worth a damn."

"I don't see her leaving either. It is the fate of women who love brave but foolish men."

"I think in Azalea's case, it's just a case of doing her job."

"If you say so."

As Cheryl walked away she added, just loud enough for Darryl to hear. "Typical fucking clueless male."

The expedition continued on for several more uneventful days. They also were days that failed to produce any great new material. When they happened upon a large humanitarian relief convoy, and were offered room for one journalist, James saw it as a welcome chance to break out of a rut. The convoy was carrying supplies from various charitable agencies organized by the Red Crescent, the Muslim version of the Red Cross. The supplies were intended for refugees fleeing the areas of direct conflict and those fleeing the strict Taliban rule.

While James was undoubtedly right about it presenting new opportunities, it also split the party and sent him off alone without a bodyguard. It flew in the face of every recommendation Kabir had made for their safety. In the discussion, everyone was opposed to the idea except James, and Cheryl who was uncharacteristically quiet, voicing no real opinion.

When Darryl was saying his goodbye he mentioned this strange reticence.

"Hey boss, I hope you don't mind that I was opposed to this idea. I was just expressing my opinion, it's your call."

"Your honest opinion is all I ever want, Darryl. I've got no use for fucking yes men. I was surprised that Cheryl rolled over so easy. Figured she'd have pitched a fit. Don't ever tell her this Darryl, but I just might have cancelled the trip for her if she had really felt strongly about it. But then, I probably feel about her the way I do because she is the type who would never ask me to not go. Interesting paradox there; I would stay because I love her but I love her but she would never ask me to stay. Well take care of her for me Darryl; I should be back in a week,"

After the convoy had pulled away Darryl found a very distressed looking Cheryl and sat down with her.

"You Ok Cheryl?"

"I don't know, I just can't shake this feeling I'll never see him again. I'm not sure how I would handle that."

"I'm not really supposed to tell you this but the one person who could have talked him out of going was you."

"I know that Darryl, if I had made a really major issue out of it, he would have stayed."

"Why didn't you?"

"He would have stayed but it would have forever changed our relationship. Right now, we possibly have a future together as a couple because we're equals. I start clipping his wings and my days are numbered. Right now, I'm wondering if I've traded his life because I wasn't willing to risk our relationship. And how will I live with myself if I did?"



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Chapter 13: June 6-15, 1996 A Vision of Death, A Song of Life


What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night.
It is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime.
It is the little shadow which runs across the grass
and loses itself in the sunset.

Crowfoot
South Dakota, June 6-8 Crying for a Vision

Dreams are the answers to questions that we haven't yet figured out how to ask. 
Fox Mulder

At the end of the feast to celebrate her acceptance as a new relative, Ominotago, as Courtney would now always be known here, brought the sacred pipe to Gaho. Handing the pipe to the medicine woman, Ominotago asked her for a vision. Gaho said that she would help and rose and spoke a prayer of cleansing. She also told her that now that she was on a Vision Quest she must fast and take nothing but water and a small piece of Wasna.

They returned to the house and Gaho went over the last instructions with Leotie and Ominotago so that they might start on their quest in the morning.

"Ominotago, now that you have had a chance to get used to our ways and the outdoors, you need to make a decision, The Vision Quest was originally intended for young warriors and in its traditional form is very physically demanding. Basically, it involves staying day and night in a circle, with just cedar boughs and a blanket. You will have a good supply of water but just a very small ration of wasna. Your only clothing is your moccasins and a buffalo robe. I believe that the purer the experience the better the result. Do you think you can handle these conditions?"

"Let me ask you a question. Do you believe that doing so will likely help me resolve the problems which have taken away my joy of life and my song?"

"Yes, I absolutely do."

"Then I will sit naked on a hilltop for a long as I have to."

"Two possibly three nights is what it usually takes."

"How will I know I have had a vision and not just an ordinary dream?"

"By the power and clarity of the dream."

Gaho chuckled, "It's a little like asking if you've had your first orgasm. If you have to ask, you probably didn't have one. You'll know when you do. Also there will probably be an animal or a spirit guide."

"What's that?"

"Often an animal or occasionally a spirit will come to you as part of your vision. The type of animal will suggest a direction for your life. This animal will become a totem, something like a good luck charm for the rest of your life.

Now go get a good night sleep in a bed while you can. We'll get all the gear ready tonight so that you and Leotie can get an early start tomorrow. "

In the morning, the horses were saddled and packed for the journey. Ominotago missed the usual huge Gaho breakfast, although real hunger had not set in yet. Leotie explained why they were riding further than they had on previous trips.

"Traditionally these quests were held on mountaintops, but unfortunately mountaintops are in short supply in this part of South Dakota. We are riding out to a reasonably large natural butte which we use since it is the highest point in the immediate area."

By early afternoon they had reached the spot, and set to work getting it ready. First they laid out a circle, symbolic of the Lakota way, where everything is circular in the journey of life and death. Four small posts were set up around the circle. The number four is an essential symbol of Lakota spirituality. Here it represented the directions north, south, east and west. Four also represents the elements earth, fire, air and water and the seasons, winter, spring, summer and fall. They had brought the cedar boughs with them and set them up covered by the blanket. They unloaded several canteens and Leotie showed Ominotago the location of a spring in case she needed additional water. She waited while Ominotago removed her clothes and then packed them in a saddle bag, leaving her just the buffalo robe and moccasins.

"Is there anything else before I leave? I will always be where I can watch you, although you probably will not be able to see me. Just remember that you're not alone, and that you are safe. If you're in distress, just wave your arms over your head and I'll see you, but to be successful in your quest, you'll need to be alone and on your own."

"Thanks, it helps to know you're watching out for me. It's a little bit scary to be here, all alone, naked on a hill top; no actually it's a lot scary. I guess the only thing I really need before you go is for you to rub a lot of sunscreen on my back."

Leotie couldn't help but admire the beautiful nude body of the singer. It was a bit surreal to see her standing there in her pale perfection, surrounded by nothing but countless miles of featureless prairie. She gently rubbed the lotion into her back and legs and then gently kissed her on her cheek and whispered in her ear, "I pray that the spirits grant you a vision that heals your pain." Then she mounted her horse and rode until Ominotago could see her no more, although she felt her presence.

In the first hours she went through a cycle of feelings; at various times experiencing great loneliness, fear, a feeling of ridiculousness, a feeling of futility and sometimes hope. Finally, she settled down and prepared herself for the long ordeal ahead. It had been a full day without food and for the first in her life she experienced real hunger pains. Two tools helped her get through the endless hours, and prepare her mind to receive a vision. She had studied yoga for many years and the relaxation exercises, especially breathing and meditation were a huge asset. The other was her music. Although the quest was to be conducted in complete silence, like all good musicians, she could hear any instrument or any song in her head. She even started a new song to record the experience of the Vision Quest. To her surprise, the rest of the day passed quickly. The discomfort in her empty belly actually seemed to ease instead of getting worse. After nightfall, she curled up in her blanket and buffalo robe and was soon asleep. A quiet and restful night passed but it was a dreamless night.

The next day when Ominotago awoke she found she had changed. She felt like she belonged here now. Her hunger pain was gone and instead, her entire body had a new feeling of lightness. Her mind had great clarity and was very receptive and focused. She spent the day for the first time defining what exactly she wanted to learn. What did she need to change about her life? Where did Darryl fit into her life? What did her music mean to her? What did her fans mean to her? What did she really want from life? She didn't have answers, but at least she at least was beginning to have questions. Most exhilarating was a feeling that she was going to get answers, and soon. She took occasional sips of water and spread more sunscreen on her body. She noticed the world around her in a way she had never taken the time to before. The birds, the rays of light in the dust blown up by a mild breeze, a butterfly looking for prairie flowers, even the flies buzzing around her and the sweat droplets running down her skin in the heat of the sun, all were so much clearer than she'd ever noticed them before. The day passed remarkably quickly and before she knew it, she was looking forward to another night.

The sunset came and went with the typical haste of the prairie twilight. The night sky appeared with crystal clarity. She had never seen so many stars in the sky or the Milky Way standing out so distinctly, it dazzled her senses like the sparkling of diamonds. She understood why it was considered to be a trail across the heavens by so many earlier people. When a full moon arose, it robbed the sky of some of its splendor, but in return painted the landscape in an ethereal glow. She realized that just seeing this, was worth the trip and would touch her in some way. She almost reluctantly lay down to sleep, in hopes of more than sleep this night.

On a low ridge just within viewing distance Leotie continued the vigil that she had faithfully maintained on Ominotago. She heard a horse coming quietly up behind her. She waited as Gaho dismounted and came to lie beside her.

"It is time then?" asked Leotie.

"Yes." Answered Gaho

"So soon? It is only the second night."

"She has remarkable powers of concentration and connection to the spirits. I could probably make a medicine woman out of her, but she already has an important job."

Sitting beside each other, arm in arm, they fell silent and waited. Leotie's sharp young eyes spotted it first. She pointed and Gaho saw it too, its distinctive gait identified it before its features became distinctive.

"A wolf? I would not have guessed a wolf," said Gaho.

"You think it is her animal guide?"

"Yes, I am sure of it."

"She will be terrified."

"I don't think so."

"Wolves are very rare this far south."

"Another sign of how powerful her medicine is."

The wolf went directly to Ominotago; it sat on its haunches and watched her for a several minutes as though determining whether she was truly asleep. When the woman didn't stir the wolf moved closer to her where she (for it was in fact a female) started licking the human's feet. Ominotago gradually woke up and opened her eyes to the sight of a wolf standing over her. She somehow knew that she had nothing to fear. She rose to her knees and extended an open hand as you would to a dog or maybe to a friend. It seemed to work, the wolf came up beside her and let her put her arm over her. Ominotago laid her head on the wolf's back and listened to the animal's heart beat. Gradually she entered a state, not awake and not asleep, where she could feel with the wolf and see with the wolf's eyes.

On the hillside watching, Leotie turned to Gaho. "You were right, she has no fear of the wolf, I underestimated her courage."

"Did you listen to her story of her life? Every step she made, right or wrong, took courage. Think about it, anyone who can stand in front of 20,000 strangers and perform has courage. This I never doubted. In a minute the spirit of the wolf will try to talk to her mind. This is so far beyond what most people accept as the real world that they cannot hear it at all. Let us see how open her mind has become."

Ominotago and the wolf breathed as one. She wasn't aware of awake or asleep but she felt a very real connection to the spirit of this animal.



'You are unhappy'

'Yes I am, are you the wolf, the spirit of the wolf, or myself reflected though you?'

'Does it matter, what matters is I speak to you'

'We are so different.'

'Are we? We are born, we die, we eat, we sleep, we mate, we love, we hate, we are both female, we give life.'

'Have you offspring?'

'Yes, I have pups'

'Are they important to you?'

'They are me, they are life'

'I don't understand.'

'Our lives are brief shadows on the land, we cannot make too much of them, what is important is those who we leave to follow."

'And your mate?'

'The other half of you and all that follow you, choose him well'

'So family is important?'

'Family is everything, it makes everything else possible, and gives a reason for everything else'

'Is that why you sing'

'Yes, I sing to my family, come sing with me'
OOOOWWWWWWooooooooooooooooooHHHAAAAAWWeeeeeeeee

 OooWWWWOOweeohhhWWWeeeeeaaaaYYYeeeeeeAAAAAAAhhhhhhh

'How did that feel?'

'It felt good'

'Doesn't it feel good when you sing?'

'It did, but the joy has gone out of my song'

'That's because you have forgotten who your song is for'

'I sing to many thousands, sometimes several million,

'Your voice can sing to many, your heart can sing to only one'



With that, the wolf curled up at her side and went to sleep. Ominotago pondered the wolf's words and saw the wisdom there. Then she curled up with the wolf, resting her head in the cradle of the wolf's forelegs and went to sleep. This time she fell into a deep sleep and had a dream. It was much like dreams she had before except for the vividness and there it was like comparing IMAX to a television. She, in fact, did not have the dream as much as she was in the dream.

She was sitting alone on the dock at the lake. The other side of the lake however was a distant and unfamiliar land, rugged with mountains in the background. It seemed very far away and yet somehow she could clearly see people. She saw Darryl, some Afghan people who didn't seem to come into sharp focus and two women. One, an American woman, a photojournalist, and her interaction with Daryl seemed warm but strictly professional. The other, a remarkably striking and beautiful Afghan woman, seemed to be acting as Darryl's assistant, and though their behavior was perfectly correct she found herself feeling quite uneasy, even jealous. Her feminine instincts detected signs in the woman of a deeper interest. She had a rival. If she wanted Darryl back, she might not have unlimited time at her disposal.

The last person was perhaps the most interesting of all. She was a beautiful little girl, perhaps ten or eleven years old sitting on the ground with a lute like musical instrument obviously too large for her to hold in the usual way. The instrument was, in fact, a well used Oud, an instrument popular throughout the Middle East. It was a gift from her grandfather since she was the only one in the family who'd learned to play it after his arthritis ended his musical days. Other than the clothes on her back, the Oud and a cheap portable cassette player were her only worldly goods. The girl, whose name was Nura, raised extra food to sell at market to buy strings for the Oud and batteries for the player. She could not read music but she had a cousin who made bootleg cassette tapes from recordings he made off his radio. He sold these in the market with a total disregard for copyright and the confidence that no one was likely to enter this hell hole to catch him. His little cousin Nura, he supplied free as long as she brought back the tapes to be reused. Nura listened to the tapes and learned to play the songs by ear memorizing each with almost uncanny accuracy. She could even learn, by rote, songs in languages she could not speak.

The odd thing was that Ominotago could hear Nura's singing, although she could not hear anything else. She also found that if she sang, Nura would look up as though listening but no one else would react. Ominotago kept watching the scene and started noticing nuances she had missed, Colors that showed anger and love and frustration and other emotions that followed people like clouds of colored gasses. There was a lot of fear, sexual tension, and sexual frustration traveling in that convoy, she realized. A volatile mixture. But that was not what had her attention. There was a very dark, ominous, cloud hovering over Darryl and she needed no help interpreting this one. She smelled death. No one in the group there saw it apparently but the shadow did not like Nura and her music. When Darryl would approach her, the shadow would retreat only to return when he walked away. Nura didn't seem to see the cloud, but she affected it. Perhaps she had defied death so much in surviving as a symbol of life and hope in her war ravaged homeland that death itself had learned to respect her. Ominotago also found the shadow did not like her singing but she was too distant to drive the shadow away, she only antagonized it. Finally Darryl got ready to leave and the further he got from Nura the lower and closer the cloud approached until it wrapped around him and suddenly he was gone and she felt a cold emptiness.

The distant land faded away and it was just the lake again but it was the lake in May of 1982. She saw herself sitting beside Darryl and beside her was the Golden Album of the best pictures Darryl had taken of her as she was becoming a woman. It was his farewell gift at the end of the summer. The young Courtney was taking up her guitar and she knew exactly what she would hear. It would be the very first performance of Song of Thanks written as her gift to Darryl. As she listened, there were tears in the eyes of both the younger and the older women, if not for the same reasons.

The next thing she was aware of was opening her eyes to the dawn. The wolf was gone and she was alone on the vast prairie. Then as she recalled what the wolf had told her, she realized that she was going to be lonely and incomplete always until she found a way to fix the life that she had broken, and she wept.

Within moments Gaho and Leotie rode up and the first thing the starving Ominotago noticed was the wonderful smell of breakfast. Leotie dismounted first and before uttering the first word, handed her a thermos of hot coffee and a plate of freshly cooked bacon and eggs. By mutual consent, conversation was postponed in deference to hunger.

"Are you all right?" asked Gaho.

"Yes, but hardly unchanged. Tell me, was there really a wolf here last night, I mean physically, or was that part of the vision?"

"I'm not sure if I can answer that. Leotie and I both saw the wolf come but we never saw if leave, it just became the night. We all heard it howl, but this morning there are no tracks. Wolves are almost never seen this far south, but then wolves are not generally known to have spiritual discussions with humans either. If you mean was it a wild wolf. What we all saw was in some ways less than a wolf but in other ways a great deal more than a wolf. If you think of it as the spirit of the wolf, that is possibly as good a concept as we are capable of."

"Did we both howl?"

"Oh yes, my dear, you reared back on your haunches and howled right along with it."

"With her, she was a mother with a lifelong mate as she kept reminding me in a somewhat superior manner."

"It sounds like the two of you didn't get on so well."

"Oh no, all too well, like a wise grandmother, she saw right through me, and sorted my priorities out in quick order."

"Did you have a vision?

"Yes, about Darryl, and a very frightening one, full cinemascope, 3-D and I think I understood most of it but if you're willing I'd like you to go through it with me."

"We've got a long ride today that should give us plenty of time. Let's get some clothes on you, some more breakfast in you, and head on back."

While riding back Ominotago described her vision in complete detail to Gaho and Leotie with them asking questions to fill in any fuzzy spots. While the horses were being put away Gaho asked for a little time to analyze and pray before giving her recommendations. Odakota had been left in charge of having a hearty meal ready for their return. They were half way through the meal before Gaho joined them. She insisted on holding off all questions until the meal was finished. Then out came the coffee and plum cake.

Gaho looked at her notes and then started.

"Ominotago, your vision was probably the clearest and least ambiguous I have ever encountered. I have spent most of my time checking to make sure we weren't missing something or oversimplifying. I think you figured almost all of it out for yourself.

"I was surprised when your animal spirit guide turned out to be a wolf. That is a powerful symbol. Wolves are regarded as teachers and can impart many qualities but I believe it is clear what was intended in this case. Wolves are fiercely loyal to their mates, and mate for life. They have a strong sense of family while maintaining individualism. I think a key issue is whether you can have a strong mate, a family and still be yourself and maintain the independence to pursue your career. The wolf is telling you yes. A message she reinforced several times in talking to you. But she never compromised on the issue of the family being the key to a rewarding life. Remember the wolf telling you that you must separate your connection with your fans and the satisfaction that brings you from your connection with your mate and the satisfaction he brings you? One feeds just your ego, the other feeds your heart and soul. Maturity is recognizing the superficial nature of thrills that only fulfill you ego. The wolf summarized it beautifully with, you can sing with your voice to many but you can sing with your heart to just one."

"The Afghanistan vision is also remarkably clear. Apparently Darryl is or soon will be traveling in the company of two females. One is an American journalist and the other an Afghan woman of some considerable physical and mental accomplishments. There are two threats to your mate. One is a growing affection the Afghan woman holds toward him. She may want him as hers and even if she knows about you, she may feel that you've given up your claim. The other is that at some point in the future they are going to be in contact with a young Afghan girl playing a lute like instrument. At that point, Darryl's life is physically threatened; a threat that can be reduced if he can be kept near the girl with the lute. It also can be affected by Ominotago's singing. In the vision, she cannot reach him directly by singing but seems to be able to reach the young girl. Then the vision closes by pointing directly to a particular song, one written just for Darryl, and never released or intended for release."

"In visions you usually receive warnings like this in time to forestall disaster, if you move quickly and effectively. Any significant delay or misstep could be fatal. My interpretation is that you have to find a way to get your song written for Darryl, into the hands of this young girl so that she will play it and dissipate the shadows. If the little girl picks it up, Darryl would recognize and react to it. The question is how to get it there."

"Olathe will be the best one to work out the details," said Ominotago, "but a worldwide release without licensing and no copyright will get it out the fastest. If I pay for promotional production and distribution it'll go faster still. We'll target the Middle East but it's hard to get much penetration in a Muslim market. They aren't big fans of western music, but if I keep it simple with just my guitar it will do better there."

Odakota looked thoughtful. "This seems awfully hit or miss at best. Wouldn't it make more sense to put the effort into tracking him down and just warning him directly?"

"It wouldn't help," Gaho said. "The people in the vision were not able to see the danger even though it was visible among them. That means that it is a danger that they have already been warned of and yet are unable to see and prevent. Another warning would still leave them blind and defenseless. No, the vision tells us that for some reason, the song provides a crucial distraction, or change in plans that prevents the event from happening."

Odakota still looked troubled. "I see a lot of problems. How does a little Muslim girl in the middle of nowhere get her hands on the latest release? Would she be doing American music anyway?"

"I have no good answers there," said Gaho "If we live in a world that has no magic, this can never happen. But visions don't show things that you cannot do. You must do the best possible job of getting the song out there. Then at some point, you place this in the hands of the Gods, and count on the magic."

"I'm going to play the devil's advocate," said Leotie gently, "though I have no desire to bring up painful memories. If Darryl hears the song, he will know it's from you and he will react. But will he return to you? Didn't you use the song to call him once before? And things did not work out. Why would he come again, especially now that you have such a beautiful rival?"

"I don't know Leotie, how can I compete with someone like that from half a world away? I may have to accept that I will save Darryl's life only to have him spend it with someone else. And perhaps she does deserve him more."

"Ominotago, I want you to come take a walk with me," said a rather disgusted Gaho.

Gaho led her away from the house to a small clearing where they could speak privately. She sat down with her where she could look her in the eye.

"Ominotago, I have spoken to you as a teacher, as a spiritual councilor, and as a Lakota holy woman but today I speak to you simply as a Lakota woman. Remember you are now a Lakota woman too. I do not know how the women of your people react when something or somebody comes between them and their man. I will tell you how a Lakota woman reacts. We fight for our man. We fight until we win him back or we can fight no more. Darryl is your man. If you do not fight for him, you are no Lakota woman and you shame me, and my people.

Gaho hugged her and started back to the house. She did not wait for a response because she did not expect one, and none was offered. As they reentered the house, the phone rang.

"That will be Olathe, I called her," said Gaho, "I thought you might have some instructions to give her."

"Hola Olathe, how are you."

"Oh it's Hola now that you've been a relative three whole days, well hola to you Ominotago."

"Is that Karl I hear laughing at us in the background? Have you even been home?"

"Of course, I've been home. I had to get clean clothes. Now how was the Vision Quest?"

"Truly unbelievable, I'll tell you about it in person; it's too incredible to tell you in just a few minutes."

"

OK Boss, what's up?"

"I'll explain this all later, just take it on faith for now. But it is important, life or death important and it's got to be quick very quick."

"Just tell me what to do. Have I ever let you down?"

"I want a recording studio standing by when I land. I want to make an immediate recording, one song, No back up."

"OK."

"Then I want an immediate worldwide release, free, no copyright; no licensing, call it a salute to my fans or something. We'll pay for distribution, especially in the Middle East, or countries whose broadcasts can be heard in the Middle East. I want this song in as many hands as possible as soon as possible. Cost is no object."

"OK, now you're sure about this one?"

"Yes, I am, it may be my one last chance at happiness."

"Then I'm on it boss, just hurry home."

Lake House June 8, 1996

So she poured out the liquid music of her voice to quench the thirst of his spirit. 
Nathaniel Hawthorne

It was after midnight when Karl and Jaclyn met her at the airport and brought her back to Lake House. The Courtney they picked up was not the Courtney that had left Lake House a week ago; she was not even the Courtney that had boarded the private plane some seven hours ago. As soon as she had settled into the quiet solitude of the aircraft cabin she had for the first time, started to assimilate all that she had learned.

From the wolf, she had learned that the key to her happiness was her love for Darryl and the family they would create. This would give meaning to everything else. From her vision, she had learned that Darryl was in mortal danger and that the key to saving him was The Song. From her vision, she had also learned that she had a beautiful rival for Darryl's affections. She needed to reach him to tell him that she had changed, and the best way to do that was through The Song. But if The Song was going to reflect her change it must change as well. And finally, she had learned from Gaho that if she was a Lakota woman and she would fight for her man and she would get him back.

She took out her guitar and started to compose the new verses. To her delight, the words and the feelings came easily to her now. And when she took the guitar and sang what she had written, she knew her song was back as well. And now she sang the new song just out of the joy of singing. And she knew she sang it from the heart, and she knew her heart sang just to him. She was healed.

It was a different Courtney that arrived at Lake House. She spent the first several hours telling Jaclyn and Karl about her experiences, especially the Vision Quest. She even drew a picture of the little girl with the Oud, which was quite a reasonable likeness, since Courtney had always had a talent for drawing. Jaclyn accepted it as written, because of her first hand knowledge of Gaho's powers and Lakota spirituality. Karl was more skeptical, but couldn't dismiss it, out of his respect for the intelligence of the two women. Courtney saw his questioning look.

"You look skeptical Karl, a little too mystical for you?"

"With all due respect Courtney, I'm more comfortable in the real world. Like most "cops", I'm a little hardheaded. But I know you're not a fanciful woman, nor is Jaclyn, so if you think this is worth acting on, I'll support you, of course. I do have some supporting information from some more earthly sources."

"Let's hear it."

"I've been checking unofficially with some of my buddies in the intelligence community and they can't pin it down, but there is a rumor going around Afghanistan that someone is going to go after American Journalists. They don't know who, when or how. Right now, it's just a rumor. But it's possible that Darryl is in real danger, over the common everyday dangers in that country.

"Will you keep checking?"

"You know I will, Courtney"

The three of them just crashed in Courtney's apartment for a few hours nap before getting up for showers and breakfast. Then they were off to the recording studio for an early session. Courtney was delighted to see that her favorite technical manager, Norm Stapleton was heading up the sound crew and greeted him with a quick kiss on the cheek. She also found that her voice coach, Nancy Mernit and her psychiatrist, Dr. Carol Browning had come out to support her. Or, at least she thought they were there to support her, until it became apparent that they, and Jaclyn were mainly trying to convince her not to make the recording and just use the already existing one. Assuming that her voice was still suffering from the malaise that it had been a week ago, they were trying to spare her feelings by not having her face the obviously second rate results.

"You really don't have to do this dear," said Nancy, "you didn't sleep but a few hours, you've just returned from a fast, you haven't rehearsed. No one could be expected to record like that. Just use the one we have, it's lovely"

"It's OK Nancy, I feel great, really. I want to do this,"

"Courtney," said Carol Browning, "Nancy is right. You know that semi-starvation can produce a euphoric overconfidence, but you have to be suffering some stress. It can't be a good time for this. Why put yourself though it."

"Because I really want to Carol, what happened to me was wonderful, not a trauma. I've never been stronger."

"Well at least listen to the tape we have," said Jaclyn, you might change your mind."

Although Courtney knew that these were friends trying to protect her, she was starting to get angry and frustrated. It was Karl, being a fiercely competitive athlete, that first saw the fire in her eyes and realized that there was no chance of stopping her, and he better intervene before bitter words destroyed friendships. It was time to use his "cop voice".

"Stop! The lady wants to sing. I for one want to hear her. So let's all shut the hell up and let her sing."

Everyone except Courtney looked stunned but meekly took their seat. Courtney just smiled at him sweetly.

"Thank you Karl."

She calmly took her seat at the microphone and gave Norm some mic levels. He had recorded her many times in this studio so it took but a moment. She then closed her eyes and a peaceful smile came to her face.

And she began to sing. She sang the familiar verses of The Song of Thanks but with an intensity of feeling that she had never reached before. Her little audience, who had heard her so often before, all realized that this song was coming from somewhere deep inside, and they had never heard such passion before. And suddenly, when they thought she was at the end of the song, she lifted her eyes upward and sang new verses. And now she added fire to the passion and the song touched everyone in the room.



There've been pain and tears
Over many years
Now I've conquered fears
Thanks to you.
There is much I've earned, 
Even more I've learned, 
But my heart has yearned
Just for you.
I've been up and down, 
I've been lost and found, 
But I've come around
Thanks to you.
Though my voice may ring, 
Millions hear me sing, 
Still my heart can sing
Just for you.



(Refrain)



Though my voice may ring, 
I have learned one thing:
That my heart will sing
Just to you.



And the refrain said it all. She was singing from her heart and it was no doubt that she was singing to her one true love. The room was totally silent, everyone was too stunned to even think of applause. Norm was the first to wake up and applaud the virtuoso performance and everybody joined in. Courtney bowed graciously but she already knew how good it was. It was the performance of a lifetime. She looked to Norm to see if he had recorded what she had done and his thumbs up assured her that it was captured for all time.

Jaclyn turned to her companions. "Holy shit! Where did that come from? I think our girl is back and she's running on afterburners! Has she ever sung like that Nancy?"

"I'm not sure anyone has ever sung like that. My heart is still racing. I wish I could take some of the credit, but I don't even know how to teach someone to sing like that. Maybe I had better sit naked on a hilltop and listen to wolves. They seem to know things about singing that I don't"

"Don't feel bad Nancy," said Carol, "Courtney is my patient. I tried to help her using every skill I had been taught, with no results. This Lakota medicine woman takes her for one week, using what I thought to be useless ancient superstition, and returns her not only healed, but stronger than she was before. Her recovery is unprecedented by traditional standards. Jaclyn, I want to meet and spend some time with this woman. I want to learn from her."

"I'm sure she would love to have us, or visit us here. She's a joy to be with. But right now, I've got an incredible song to go share with the world. Unless I miss my guess, it will be at the top of the charts in a few days.

Afghanistan June 12 — 14, 1996

The heart is its own Fate.
Philip James Bailey
June 12

Nura's cousin was listening to a Turkish station that often carried American pop tunes. Despite official disapproval by the Muslim clergy, or more likely because of disapproval, he did a good business among the young, even though few of them knew English. Probably just as well, he knew enough to know that some of the lyrics would truly shock the people listening to them. He was almost ready to change stations, when the announcer started going on about this new Courtney Archer hit that she was giving away free to thank her fans. Well there would be a switch, it wouldn't even be illegal. He turned on his tape recorder to make a master.

It really was a beautiful song, even if you didn't understand the words. He would definitely make an extra copy for his little cousin Nura. He just knew she would love it.

June 13

Nura was very upset with herself. She had come to market this morning and had forgotten to bring the tape to exchange so that she could get a new one from her cousin. She didn't even go by his stall. He missed her and decided to make sure she was alright. He stuck a copy of the new tape in his pocket and went to find her.

"Hey Nura, I missed you today, you didn't come by to see me."

"I forgot my tape and I can't get a new one, so I didn't come by."

"Nura is that a tear, we are family, you come see me anyway. Besides, I have a special surprise for you today."

"A surprise for me?"

"A new tape by an American singer. She has a beautiful voice, like a nightingale. You will love this song because of the beauty of her voice even if you do not understand her words, but there is more, it's a love story, a real life love story and I know you how you like those."

"Oh cousin, tell me the story."

"Well this singer has sent this song all over the word. She has made it free; she charges no money for it. She even spends her own fortune to send the song out."

"Why would she do that? Singers sing to make fortunes, everyone knows that. I dream that someday I will be a rich and famous singer."

"She says that it's to thank all those who like her songs, but the rumor is that she is singing to a lost love, to try and get him back."

"Oh, that is so romantic, now I know I will sing this song, maybe her love will hear me."

"Ah Nura, I knew you would like it. Though I can't imagine that the lover of a rich American singer would ever be around here, you should sing anyway."

"I thank you a thousand times, next week I will come and sing it to you."

Nura could hardly wait to get home and listen to the tape. It was the most beautiful voice she had ever heard and as she listened she was sure the story was true. She stayed up very late learning it until her father came and ordered her to bed.

June 14

Nura was sitting in front of her home with her beloved Oud when three exotic looking cars drove up. They didn't look like soldiers so she stayed where she was. A tall handsome white man and a very beautiful Afghan woman came towards her. The man seemed excited.

"Azalea, she's perfect, my Pulitzer Prize photo, beauty surviving among the ruins. She's beautiful."

"Yes Darryl, but we still need to get proper permission first."

Turning to the girl. "My name is Azalea, what is your name?"

"Nura"

"Nura, what a pretty name. I see you have an Oud. Can you play it?"

"Yes, my grandfather taught me. I know many songs. Would you like to hear me?"

"Oh yes, but first let me ask you. This man is from America, he takes pictures for a Magazine called National Geographic." Azalea handed her a copy. "Have you ever seen this magazine?"

"Yes, in the market, the book dealer has some old copies and he lets me look at them. I cannot read the words but I like to see the pictures of other places. Places I would like to go someday."

"This man would like to take your picture for this magazine, is that something you would like?"

"Oh yes, so other little girls in those places could see me."

"We would need to see your father and get his permission, is he here."

"That is my father coming now, I will ask him."

"Father, these people would like to take my picture for this magazine but need your permission."

Her father took the magazine and looked at it. He addressed Azalea. "I have some education and worked in Kabul. I know this magazine. It is held in high regard. I want this man's word that he will not use these pictures to bring any shame or dishonor to my daughter, my family or my people."

Azalea translated this demand to Darryl. Darryl looked the father in the eye and responded, even knowing that his words would need translation.

"Tell him he has my word. That I see his daughter as a symbol of hope for the future, in that she sings in the face of war. I think she is a beautiful and brave daughter that he should be proud of."

Azalea translated and the father beamed proudly and indicated with his hands his consent.

Azalea turned to Nura. "Will you sing for us now?"

The little girl pulled her oversized instrument into her lap and began to play and sing. Darryl didn't know the words and the Middle Eastern tonality was alien to his ears but it was obvious that the young girl had a lot of raw talent and passion. In fact, her voice reminded him a bit of Courtney's voice when she was starting out. This brought out a longing in him for a lost time that he wished he could return to. But he brushed that aside to concentrate on the image. What he saw through the viewfinder was exactly what he had come to Afghanistan for. The image that captured all that had been lost, the traditions that still held the people together, the hope for the future, and beauty among the ruins. It was an iconic shot, possible Pulitzer. And he couldn't get enough, every angle looked good.

Nura looked at the tall American. Even at her young age she had a romantic heart and thought that maybe he was the lost love. She decided to sing the song for him. Of course she sang with the music converted to her own Middle Eastern musical idiom. The words were in a language not her own, so despite her efforts to mimic what she heard on the tape, the words were not readily recognizable as English words. At least they weren't to Darryl, but the song was close enough that despite his concentration on taking pictures it was beginning to catch his attention. It was that feeling you get when you think you've heard a song before but you can't quite place it. Azalea on the other hand immediately recognized the words as distorted English and was wondering where Nura would have picked up such a song. It wasn't one that Azalea had ever heard before, but she was interested enough that she thought she would ask Nura about it. Darryl was getting curious enough that he was thinking to ask Azalea to translate the song.

They were interrupted by the noise of a Russian made MI-8 transport helicopter with government markings that passed over the village then stopped and landed next to the Land Rovers. An Afghan Army Officer spoke to one of their body guards who pointed to Darryl. He came with Cheryl right behind.

"Darryl Sanders? I'm Captain Taj Mohammad, I have been sent to look for you with regrettably grave news. Would you prefer to speak privately?"

"No sir, I thank you for your consideration but these are my professional colleagues and need to know what I know."

"As you wish."

"I regret to inform you that the convoy carrying your colleague, Mr. McNichol, was ambushed with many casualties. Mr. McNichol is reported to have been killed although we have no official confirmation yet."

Cheryl gasped and looked as though she might faint, so Azalea grabbed her, sat her down and held her. Darryl fought to maintain his composure.

"How sure are you of this information?"

"At this time we only have the radio reports from the survivors of the convoy. They are not trained military personnel and they are badly shaken up. However, they have been definite and consistent in their report of your colleague's death. They have not found his body, but no one has seen him alive since the attack. He could be seriously wounded or possibly kidnapped although I think the likelihood of that is extremely low."

"Do you know who was responsible for the attack?"

"It looks like the Taliban, although we have no proof and they are denying it."

"The Taliban had granted the convoy safe passage."

"They had. I suspect this may have been the work of an ultra-militant branch not operating under the control of their central command."

"Al Qaeda?"

"You seem unusually well informed. Yes, someone supported by Al Qaeda, that would be an excellent guess. I am on my way to the scene to investigate, I am authorized to offer you a ride if you so desire. I must emphasize that it is for you only and I must know in the next few minutes"

"I will confer with my colleagues and let you know."

Darryl joined Cheryl and Azalea. After offering what comfort he could to Cheryl, he explained the situation. He asked for their input once again demanding that Azalea be candid with him.

"I don't think you should go," said Cheryl, "This confirms that there is a plot to murder American journalists and they may very well be waiting to see who shows up at the ambush site. If he's dead, you can't help him. If he's alive he's probably already been moved from the site. All you'll do is risk your life for nothing."

"We need to start following Kabir's advice," said Azalea, "he knows the most about this country. James going on the convoy went against everything Kabir had said and it has apparently cost him his life. If you go off alone, the same thing will happen to you. We should stay together and wait for Kabir. Please Darryl; I would feel your loss deeply."

Darryl sat silently for a few moments in thought, and then he sighed in resignation and looked up.

"Women are the sensible ones, you are both absolutely right and I know that you are absolutely right. You probably won't understand why I am going to do what I am but I don't feel I have a choice. I have to go just in case he's alive and needs my help. I think he would do the same for me. It's an honor thing among men I guess."

"An honor that has killed countless men over the ages."

"But an honor and duty all the same." And he walked away before they could say anything more because he knew they would argue, and he knew they'd be right. He packed his cameras and grabbed his camera bags and headed for the helicopter. He was humming Nura's tune which was stuck in his mind. Where had he heard it? It was so familiar. "Oh well," he thought, 'it will come to me eventually.' He slung his camera bag into the veteran MI-8 helicopter and hopped in. He waved to goodbye to an unhappy Azalea and Cheryl. He noticed little Nura stopped playing long enough to wave. "Damn, ' he thought, 'what was that tune?'

Lake House June 15 1996

Though it be honest, it is never good to bring bad news 
William Shakespeare

Courtney heard the knock on the door, she woke and looked out and saw the dawn just starting to light the surface of the lake. Surprised to be awakened at this hour, she got up, put on her robe, and opened the door surprised to see Jaclyn and Karl. She started to greet them, but something in their manner told her that this was not a social call. She also noticed that Jaclyn's eyes were red and puffy. Karl put his arm around her and gently but firmly guided her to the couch. As she was seated Jaclyn handed her a newspaper. She knew immediately that she didn't want to open it. Perhaps if she never opened it, whatever was in it would go away. Her hands were trembling and Jaclyn put her hand on Courtney's to steady it. She took a deep breathe and opened. The black ink shouted at her unwilling eyes.

AMERICAN JOURNALIST SHOT DOWN IN AFGHANISTHAN
Pulitzer Prize Winner Dies in Fiery Crash
Another Journalist Reported Killed in Separate Ambush
REUTERS
Kabul Afghanistan, June 15, 1996.

Well known photojournalist Darryl Sanders was killed late yesterday when the Afghan Army Russian made MI-8 helicopter he was riding in was shot down by heat seeking shoulder fired missiles. At the time, Mr. Sanders, on assignment for National Geographic Magazine, was on his way to investigate the reported death of his fellow photojournalist, James McNichol, reported killed yesterday in an ambush on a relief convoy in which he was traveling. Mr. McNichol's death is unconfirmed at this time as his body has not been identified at the convoy site, so he is officially listed as missing. Mr. Sander's body was also unrecovered as reportedly the passengers on the helicopters were burned beyond any hope of recognition and scattered in an inaccessible ravine. He was reported by the pilot as being aboard, prior to the crash and one of his camera bags was thrown clear and recovered virtually undamaged. Together this was considered sufficient evidence of his death.

If both deaths are confirmed it raises the question of whether there is a deliberate campaign being waged to kill American Journalists? Both the government and the Taliban deny responsibility for either incident, particularly since the convoy was traveling under safe passage by both sides. Suspicion is pointed at a rogue band operating under its own command. Both sides have promised a thorough investigation but in the chaotic conditions that exist in much of the country, responsibility will be hard to establish. Other American journalists are reported to be leaving Afghanistan. The National Geographic Society in a Washington DC press conference expressed its sympathy to the family and friends of Mr. Sanders and expressed hope that Mr. McNichol would still be found alive. The magazine currently has no other journalists in Afghanistan and in view of these incidents has no plans to send any in the immediate future.



-------

Chapter 14: Hide and Seek June 14-20


The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.

Mark Twain

Afghanistan June 14-15

A bird does not sing because it has an answer. It sings because it has a song.

Chinese Proverb

In the back of his mind, Darryl's subconscious continued to work on the puzzle and just as he boarded the helicopter, it finally clicked. Despite the exotic tonalities and the unfamiliar instrument, that melody could only be one song, his song, THE song, the song Courtney had written for him so many years ago. He knew that was impossible, that song had never been released to anyone, let alone a little Afghan girl in the middle of nowhere and yet... he had to know.

He turned to the soldier sitting by the door. "Can you ask the Captain to wait just a minute? I will be right back."

"O.K., O.K.," the soldier replied nodding. It was the only English word he knew although he had no idea what it meant. It just seemed to always please the Anglos, like now. Darryl hopped back down to the ground leaving one of his camera bags stowed behind a seat next to the door. The soldier watched impassively and then turned to his comrades. "He must not like to fly." They all enjoyed a good laugh.

Darryl ran over to a startled Azalea. "Quick, I need your help. I need you to translate that last song the little girl sang. I think I know it, but it's crazy. Hurry, they're holding the chopper for me."

The words were no more out of his mouth than a loud whop whop sound and the rising scream of the turbines gave him reason to doubt their waiting. He turned in time to see the Russian built MI 8 transport helicopter lift off and head straight out leaving him no chance to even try to attract their attention. His first reaction was to shrug it off since he'd had mixed feelings about going anyway. Then suddenly he remembered.

"Oh shit, god dam it to hell!"

Azalea was startled by the sudden, vehement profanity, especially from Darryl, who had never used profanity at all in her presence. "What is it Darryl? What is wrong?"

"I'm sorry Azalea; please excuse my language but I just realized that one of my camera bags is on the helicopter."

"That's terrible; do you have enough equipment left to finish your assignment?"

He laughed ruefully, "More than enough, you always plan on some attrition. No, equipment usually can be easily replaced. Pictures on the film in the case can be far more important but fortunately, the only really important pictures in there were of Nura so they can be re-shot. It's the particular camera I hate to lose."

"What's so special about the camera?"

"It's one of the cameras James gave me at college graduation to get me started. It's old now; pretty beat up, not worth much except to me. It's just that if he's gone, it hurts even more to lose that memory of him."

"Is the bag clearly marked as yours?"

"In multiple languages with a reward offered."

"Perhaps it will be returned to you then."

"Perhaps," he said, although he doubted it very much. "Nothing I can do about that now. Can you translate that song for me?"

Azalea laughed. "Can I translate that song into English? No Darryl, I cannot."

"You can't? You mean it's in a language you don't speak?

"No, I speak it, and so do you. The song IS in English. Nura doesn't speak English and so she is parroting sounds that mean nothing to her. That's why you didn't recognize it."

"And you did?"

"Yes, I am used to hearing English spoken in a heavy Afghan accent. I recognized that she was mimicking the lyrics, although I've never heard the song before. It's a song about Thanks. Do you want me to have her sing it again? I'll help you recognize the words."

"Yes, please."

They came back to where Nura sat, still holding her oversized Oud, obviously happy to have her audience back. Azalea sat down beside her. "Nura, can you sing that new song for us again? Darryl would especially appreciate it."

Nura glowed, she knew it, this handsome foreigner must be the missing lover the song was meant for. She would sing like she had never sung before to bring the lovers back together.

This time as she sang, knowing what to expect, he managed to catch enough of the words to fill in the rest.

You've given me wings

And special things,

That's what your love brings,

Thanks to you.

I've stretched and grown,

Spread my wings and flown,

I can stand on my own,

Thanks to you

There was no question now, it was his song. He sat down while his mind tried to get some sort of handle on this strange version of reality. Here he was, in the middle of nowhere Afghanistan, listening to a little girl who spoke no English, sing to him a song he first heard on the dock by the lake from the only love in his life. Try as he might, his brain could come up with no reasonable explanation. And just as he thought the song was at an end, Nura continued on with new verses. When he heard the last verse before the refrain he recognized the message,

Though my voice may ring,

Millions hear me sing,

Still my heart can sing

Just for you

These new verses were a clear message to him that Courtney understood the issues that had torn them apart and was telling him that she had changed. But how had she reached him here?

"Azalea, please tell Nura that she sings like an Angel and ask her how she got that song."

Azalea sat with Nura for several minutes in deep conversation until finally Azalea turned back to Darryl. "She learns her songs from cassette tapes that she gets at the market from her cousin. He is a music bootlegger who tapes music off the air and sells the tapes. It's not uncommon. This is her first song in English; her cousin got it for her especially because he thought she would really like the love story that goes with it."

"What love story?"

"Apparently this song was released world wide very suddenly just a few days ago by an American singer. It was released without copyright or royalties. She apparently spent her own money to get it out fast. Officially it's a gift to her fans but the rumor is that it's really a message to a lost love. Nura thinks the message is for you. Is it?"

"Yes I suppose it is. Courtney wrote that song years ago and promised that she'd keep it only for me. She's sending me a message."

"A letter would have been cheaper."

"A lot cheaper, but it would never have found me. It cost a fortune to put a song out world wide like this. It was awfully important to her for some reason."

"Darryl, there is no way Courtney could have known that a little girl, who spoke no English, in the village you just happened to be in, would have learned this song."

"No Azalea, that's where you are wrong, Courtney Archer is many things but she is no gambler. She did know. I don't know how she knew. I don't know why she cared to know but she knew. The question is what we do now? We still don't know for sure what happened to James and we may have people after us."

"I think we need to stay near here so that Kabir can find us. It might be good to get out of sight for the night. You stay with Cheryl, she's still very distressed. I'll go talk to Nura's father, he seems intelligent and experienced and he may know a good place for us to duck out of sight until morning."

Azalea was huddled with Nura's father for over an hour before she returned to rejoin Darryl and Cheryl. They had a cold dinner beside the vehicles. Because of the language barrier the drivers and bodyguards ate alone, Azalea providing the only liaison between the two groups.

Darryl's curiosity finally prompted him to ignore the usual custom of not discussing such matters during meals. "You had a very long conversation; did you learn anything of value?"

"Yes, a great deal. His name is Fahez Raza. He is educated and a trained military officer. He says there is a ravine nearby that will conceal the vehicles and is more defendable. He knows my brother and he will gather a few close friends to stand guard tonight. He will warn us of trouble or guide Kabir to us if he comes."

"It is very good of him to help us. Is this part of his code of hospitality, protecting any visitor who seeks shelter?"

"Yes. Plus he hates the Taliban and will do anything possible to thwart them. He held a high rank in the mujahideen, as a consequence, he is on the Taliban kill on sight list. They have already killed his brothers and his only sister. There is no one left in his family but Nura and himself."

"Doesn't his code now require him to avenge their deaths or die trying?"

"Yes, that is exactly his intention; He is launching a one man war on the Taliban."

"And where does that leave Nura?"

Azalea hesitated before answering. "With me I hope or should I say with us. Her father has begged me to take her with us. He says she will surely be dead in a matter of a few weeks if she stays here with him and there is no one else to care for her."

"Is he aware that we are very likely in considerable danger ourselves? Taking the child with us might be taking her to her death."

"Yes, I made him very aware but he believes that at least she has a chance with us while she has no chance at all if she stays."

"Tell me truthfully Azalea, is anything I say really going to make a difference here?"

"Of course Darryl, you are in charge of this expedition, if you say no, I will abide by your wishes..."

Darryl was getting to know Azalea well and he heard a definite incomplete sentence, something unsaid. "And," he prompted, let's hear the rest of it. You were going to say more."

Azalea tried to ignore him but he looked her in the eye and stood prepared to wait as long as necessary. Finally she gave in and looked him straight back in the eyes. "If you said no, I would abide by your wishes, provided you were willing to go with me and look her in the eye when I told her you had decided to leave her behind to die."

"Damn Azalea, you don't pull your punches do you."

"I love children Darryl, I would not willingly let one come to harm."

"And what, I'm a monster that would? But I don't want to be responsible for putting her in greater danger than she is in now."

"Trust me on this Darryl, even a child would prefer a chance to take action, to flee, to fight, rather than waiting passively for their fate. This is not a child that grew up in your country where the greatest danger is a schoolyard bully. She has never known a world without war. We are the only chance she will ever have to know a better world."

Cheryl had been sitting quietly absorbed in her grief at the news about James but this conversation caught her attention. "Let her come with us Darryl," she said, "she has spirit and a soul to be free. The fate that awaits her at the hands of the Taliban is either death or something perhaps worse. Let her come and have a chance for better."

"Can we take her away from her father?"

"Darryl, she knows what her father is committed to. Just because she is a girl and young doesn't mean she isn't an Afghan."

"Alright guys, our party had grown by one, Azalea. Please help her get her things together and then I think we need to retire to this ravine and set up some sort of lookout system for the night. Also I think we need to discuss contingency plans in case Kabir doesn't find us. Do we stay put, double back to Kabul, or make a try for the border."

Fortunately, the contingency plans did not have to be exercised. Kabir did not come in the morning but he sent a message by a trusted courier to Azalea, who called everyone together including her brothers and the body guards.

"Kabir has sent us a message. He apologizes for not coming himself but he is being watched now and it would be too dangerous for us. There is definitely a plot against American journalists and it almost certainly involves an Al Qaeda supported radical branch of the Taliban. Their goal seems to be to stir up enough high profile trouble that there can never be any accommodation between the Taliban and the West, especially the US. The helicopter you were supposed to be on, Darryl, was shot down between here and the convoy ambush site by multiple shoulder fired heat seeking missiles. It definitely looks like a deliberate trap to get you. Kabir hopes you weren't on the flight because of his instructions but he is concerned by the recovery of one of your camera bags at the crash site."

"They'll be watching for these vehicles to return now. If Darryl had been on the flight he was going to have the rest of us return in them. He believes you, Cheryl, may be relatively safe, he is not sure they are prepared to carry their campaign so far as to kill an American woman, but that's not certain, so be cautious. Since you are alive, Darryl, he wants you go with this man who is not known to the Taliban. He will take you to a secret cave that belongs to my family and which is well stocked with food and water. You are to stay there until you are forgotten and Kabir is able to arrange to smuggle you out of the country."

"Does he have any idea how long that might be?" asked Darryl.

"It's just a guess but it might be as long as several weeks before arrangements can be made to safely get you out, hopefully more like one week."

"I hope there are a few books to read along with the food and water if I'm going to be hiding in a cave all alone."

"You're not going to be all alone, Darryl," responded Azalea," I'm going with you."

"Is that Kabir's idea, or is that yours?"

"Mine, but he's not here and I am.

"That's very thoughtful and kindhearted of you Azalea but it's danger you don't have to expose yourself to. I really can't allow it."

"Then you'll just have to throw me out of the cave because I'm going. Besides I'm not going just for you. There is other news; some very good news. James was not killed in the ambush although he was fairly seriously injured. He should recover. He is already at the cave but he will need medical attention. Remember Darryl, I am a licensed nurse. Do you think you're better qualified to take care of him than I am?

Darryl shook his head no. Cheryl who had been listening impassively to this point, suddenly jumped up, her face reanimated. "James is alive, oh my God he is alive, then I'm going too. My Place is with him."

"What about the food and water supply? asked Darryl.

"That won't be a problem. My brother maintains several of these caves around the country because of his various 'business' interests. They all are well enough stocked to keep a large party going for up to a month. I think Cheryl's place is with James. Cheryl, do you have any close family that will be unduly stressed at the news of your "death?"

"Not really, Azalea, no one close at all."

"Then to explain your disappearance, I'm going to suggest that Kabir start a rumor that you had joined Darryl on the helicopter at the last minute. That will keep anyone from looking for you"

As quickly as possible, Darryl, Azalea, Cheryl, and Nura along with the courier named Ayman who drove, left the spacious luxury of the two Range Rovers to squeeze into one battered Isuzu Trooper. They had to leave some belongings behind for lack of space but everyone bought key items such as Nura's Oud and Darryl and Cheryl's remaining camera equipment. Fortunately, the cave was not far away so their trip was not a long one.

The arrival at the cave was the occasion for a joyous reunion. James was indeed there and though obviously injured his spirits rose on reunion with his companions. Another of Kabir's brothers had been tending him but he left with the vehicle after a vain and half hearted attempt at persuading Azalea to come also. Azalea spent the first few hours cleaning and rebandaging James' wounds with Cheryl assisting. She was finally satisfied and was able to reassure everyone that, in time, his recovery should be complete. Darryl had made himself useful by inventorying the stocks. Whoever had provided for the caves knew their business. They were in no danger of running out of anything important in the foreseeable future. The supplies were of good quality and fresh. Darryl would have preferred some weapons for self defense but these were not on the inventory.

Still he was satisfied that it was as safe and comfortable a spot as they could find to wait a week or so for an escape to be organized. Unfortunately, unknown to them, two things happened in the first few days of their occupancy to convert their safe haven into a deadly trap.

The first event was the Taliban putting Kabir and his entire operation under intense surveillance. They knew he was closely associated with the American journalists and they were bothered that they also had recovered no bodies; especially James's whose disappearance was difficult to explain. If he was killed in the attack they should have found him. If he was alive, who had him? Not the government. They were too infiltrated to keep that big a secret and had no reason to keep it secret anyway. Not the Americans, they'd be bragging on every channel. So, could Kabir have him? If so, only he and his brothers would know and the Taliban, knowing that they would never break one of them, were just going to watch the whole family so closely that they would be completely neutralized. It was working. Kabir could not rescue himself, let alone a party of five in a cave hundreds of miles away. He couldn't even get word to them to warn them that they were on their own. They would sit waiting, at his own instruction, for a rescue that would never come.

The second event was that the Taliban just happened to choose the area around the cave as a major training base for mobile troops. The little party was now in the center of a beehive of little trucks mounting machine guns buzzing around gaining experience shooting at everything. Knowing that the area was riddled with caves, some of the teams, out of boredom, or in hopes of finding loot, had started poking around looking for them. This made discovery inevitable; it was just a question of when.

In ignorance of the hopelessness of their situation, the little group set up a domestic routine. (Cheryl spent her days at James's bedside. Azalea divided her time looking out for the wellbeing of little Nura and of Darryl. Nura's needs were obvious. She clung tightly to Azalea, slept beside her and constantly kept track of where she was. Hardly surprising behavior for a little girl far from the only home she had ever known and aware that she would probably never see her father again. Besides, Azalea was the only person there that could even speak to her.

Darryl's needs were less obvious even to him, but no less real. She had to watch that he didn't withdraw into himself. Azalea noticed Darryl looking thoughtful and distant. He was feeling lost and a bit alone in this distant desert so far from the greatest love of his life, so close to the strong and beautiful Azalea, so many questions to be answered. Why exactly had Courtney gone to such extreme lengths to reach him with the song? Why not just wait until he could be reached by simpler means, or left the country. He had a recurring day dream of a lone sad wolf wandering the desert in search of its mate.

"What is it that has you so far away?" Azalea asked.

Darryl seemed almost startled by her voice but he gradually refocused on her. "What? Oh, excuse me Azalea, My mind wasn't here. It was something you said to Cheryl. I also don't have any close family left to get really upset about the news of my demise. But I forgot about Courtney and what this must be doing to her. I know we're officially split up, but we have a very long history together. That alone means we will always be close, but her release of the song makes me believe that there may be a great deal more involved. For her to reach out like that and then see me struck down a few days later, or so she thinks..."

"You're right Darryl, how awful for her. I can't imagine how she must feel"

Lake House June 18 -20

This is like deja vu all over again.

Yogi Berra

How exactly did Courtney feel? She certainly felt grief as well as anger and frustration. It was hard to bear having tried so hard and coming so close and still having failed. That coupled with a good case of guilt, knowing that he was there directly as a result of her sending him away, left her feeling like road kill on life's highway. Courtney stayed in her apartment, Jaclyn by her side night and day.

The evening of the eighteenth, Karl came to the apartment to see her. "I'm sorry to bother you Courtney, but a package has arrived by a special government courier, and I need your signature and instructions."

"What is it Karl?"

"It's Darryl's camera bag, the one that was thrown clear at the crash site. He had no heirs or close relatives and it's a bit of a political hot potato so the government is hoping you will take it."

"It's alright Karl, I'll sign for it, they'd just lose it in a big warehouse somewhere."

"Do you want to see it?"

"Oh God no, Karl, I couldn't bear it; someday perhaps, but not now. No, please, if you would go through it for items that need to be returned to people and such, I would be grateful."

"What if there is undeveloped film in the camera or the bag?"

"I suppose you should see about getting it processed, we can decide what to do after we find out what, if anything, we are dealing with."

Karl returned to the security office and unpacked and examined the camera bag. He was a little disappointed that the only exposed and undeveloped film was the roll in the camera, 32 shots of which had been used. As part of his security role, Karl was a trained photographer, and the security office had a well equipped darkroom, so he decided to develop the roll himself. An hour later he had the dried film on the light box. He examined the film frame by frame. When he got to the last frame on the roll... WHAT THE FUCK! He immediately got his loupe magnifier and examined it more closely... HOLY MOTHER of GOD! Karl felt the hairs on the back of his neck bristle. This had to be handled very carefully. He picked up the darkroom phone and called Jaclyn.

"Jaclyn, it's Karl, listen honey, something truly incredible has come up. I need you to round up Dr. Browning, and then I want you to bring her and Courtney up here to the darkroom. I also needy you to bring that drawing, the one Courtney made the night she got back from South Dakota. Right, the one of the girl with that big Lute."

"How am I going to explain all this to her?"

"Don't even try, honey, I'm not sure I could. Just get them to come on faith for now. Keep the drawing under wraps until you get here. Hey, you know what? First thing of all, call Gaho and see if she's willing to come right away. If so send the jet. I think Courtney's going to need her."

Karl had no more hung up and taken another look at the negative, just to make sure he hadn't imagined things when the phone rang. It was Jaclyn.

"Gaho was expecting the call, she's coming but she said not to bother with sending the jet. She already has a reservation on a redeye flight; she'll be here for breakfast."

"Maybe we ought to postpone this whole thing until then."

"Sorry Karl, too late, Courtney's already figured out that something is going on so I had to get things rolling. We'll be up in about twenty minutes. Oh and by the way, Gaho asked me to pass along a message to you."

"What's the message?"

"She's glad you are the one that developed the film but she would have really loved to have been there to see your reaction when you saw that last negative. Your world will never be quite as simple again but it's OK, every world needs a little magic. Does that make any sense to you?"

"Yes, all too much. She would have been burned at the stake in former times."

Twenty minutes later Courtney, Jaclyn and Dr. Carol Browning came to the darkroom. Karl had brought in some extra chairs

"I wanted you to all be here to join me in what I believe is going to be a remarkable experience. I know this is difficult for you Courtney, but I think your presence is essential."

"That's OK Karl, I trust your instincts and I can't expect everyone to treat me with kid gloves forever. Besides, now you've aroused my curiosity.

"Just to get everyone up to speed, a government courier brought Darryl's camera bag, the one that survived the crash. Courtney asked me to examine it. It was almost completely undamaged except for some scuff marks. It must have fallen free very near to the ground. For the most part the contents were unremarkable; just photographic equipment and supplies, no personal material at all. The one camera inside was loaded, with a roll of black and white film and 32 of the 36 frames had been shot. This was probably his "black & white camera"; Darryl usually kept all his cameras loaded with color transparency film except for one which he loaded with monochrome by choice. He liked it for certain uses where he thought black and white had greater impact. Since we have a professional grade darkroom in the security office, I decided to develop the roll personally. When the film was dry, I examined it on the light box and my eye was immediately drawn to the last frame on the roll. What I see there, or at least what I believe I see is so incredible that I didn't feel right about printing the picture for the first time alone."

Courtney looked puzzled, even frightened. "Why, what's in the picture? It's not a picture of Darryl is it? I'm not sure I could handle that right now."

"No Courtney, it's nothing like that. I would never do that to you. But I would rather show you than try to tell you. Do I have your permission?"

"Courtney reached to either side and took Jaclyn's and Carol's hands. "Of course you do Karl."

Karl hit the exposure button on the enlarger. No one got any real impression of the image during those few seconds so their attention followed the blank white paper into the tray of developer. Karl gently rocked the tray just enough to keep a tiny surf sweeping up and down. For twenty seconds of eternity nothing happened, the paper stayed pure and unblemished. Then the faint outline of a girl could be just made out. Then, as though painted by an invisible hand, the image filled in giving the girl flesh, personality and a very large musical instrument in her hands. The individual gasps came like a ragged volley as they each recognized the girl from Courtney's vision and her drawing. The drawing that Jaclyn had brought and Karl was now holding next to the print as it lay in the tray of fixer. Carol and Jaclyn gasped again at the impossible match. Courtney sighed and slid to the floor unconscious.

By the time Courtney had regained consciousness and Carol had ministered a cup of tea and was satisfied she was calm enough to continue; Karl had washed and dried the resin coated print. He placed it on the table next to Courtney's drawing. Seen side by side it was obvious that this was not just the same girl, not just the same day, this was the same instant in time seen through the same eyes. In other words, this was either an outright fraud or it was something outside of the world of known science, something magical. They had known each other far too long for the possibility of a trick, so they were all left to deal with a major adjustment in their view of the world. As Gaho had predicted, their worlds would never be quite as simple again. The room was completely silent as they each tried to reconcile this new facet to the world they lived in.

Carol Browning's world was probably the most upset of all. She was the first to break the silence. "Do you realize that this would be the first fully documented case of precognition to ever be published?"

"Except we don't want to publish it, do we?" responded Karl. "I think we need to be sure no hint of this leaves this room. Lives may be at stake."

"Well that might be reading a little too much meaning into the picture." Carol had now reverted to her 'Doctor to patient' voice.

Jaclyn was not going to be that easily awed. "Listen Carol, I'll be the first to admit that I have no clue as to what is the real meaning of that picture. Except that I am damn sure that there is a message. This could not be mere happenstance."

Their argument was interrupted by the sound of quiet sobbing. They turned to find Courtney clutching the picture to her chest while she wept inconsolably. Jaclyn held her but it seemed to make little difference. She looked to Carol for advice but Carol gestured to let her go and release her emotions. Finally she stopped crying as suddenly as she had started. She just became very quiet and withdrawn as though looking inward. Jaclyn and Carol gently took her back to her own bed in hopes that she might sleep. Instead she just laid there, eyes staring off into nowhere, with the picture clutched to her chest.

In the morning, as the sun rose over the lake, they went in to check on Courtney. Her bed was empty but through the large French windows they could see her standing on the pier in her nightgown. Concerned for both her safety and her sanity, they rushed out to her. Her face was radiant both with the light reflecting off of the lake, and with some new found inner joy. When she heard her friends coming she turned to face them and smiled warmly.

"He's alive." she stated simply.

"What do you mean? Carol asked, "Darryl's dead, we heard it on the news. A picture doesn't change that"

"Doesn't it?" asked Courtney, "I saw this girl in a vision telling me how to save Darryl and now I get the identical image back. It's a message that I succeeded and that he is still alive?"

"A bit of wishful thinking perhaps?" Carol said gently, "I just don't want you to set yourself up for another heartbreak."

"It's not a wish, I KNOW it. I really wish Gaho was here to help me sort this out."

"Which is why I have come, Ominotago, it was my first time to fly in a plane. I liked it. I may become a regular visitor."

Courtney started at the sound of the familiar voice. "Gaho!, how did you know I would need you now?"

"Come child, you know my ways; now let me see those pictures."



-------

Chapter 15: June 20-26, 1996 Peek-A-Boo, I See You


Whoever destroys a single life is as guilty as though he had destroyed the entire world; and whoever rescues a single life earns as much merit as though he had rescued the entire world.

The Talmud, Mishna. Sanhedrin

Lake House June 20 -21

Gaho examined the pictures carefully. "Ominotago, you continue to amaze me. You would make a great holy woman with your powerful medicine. These pictures say it all. Your song did reach him and Darryl is undoubtedly alive. You saved him. This is the message to tell you so."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes child, such a clear message, I am sure. Also, remember in your vision, you felt the cold of death when the dark cloud covered Darryl. Have you felt that?"

"No, I never have."

"If death were to actually visit him you would feel the chill to the very bottom of your soul. No, he is alive."

"If he is alive why haven't we heard that he is safe?"

"I said that he is alive, he may still be very much in danger, or in hiding. One reason I came is to help you find out."

Gaho offered to stay with Courtney, and Jaclyn and Karl were happy to spend some time together.

"How will I find him Gaho?"

"How you found him before, in a vision."

"How can I do that? If I have to go back to South Dakota and fast for days it might be too late."

"It might indeed. But that was your first time. Much of what we did was to help your mind escape the entanglements of everyday life. You have grown. Your powers of focus are much greater now. The prairie is not really your world. The lake is your special place. The day is just beginning. Let us go together to the lake and seek peace for our minds and see if our guides will visit us. Can your security people keep us undisturbed?"

"Yes, let me call and then we'll go."

Gaho and Courtney gathered up some blankets and followed around the shore of the lake until they found a suitable spot that would be well away from the lights of the house when night fell. They linked arms and began to meditate. Courtney found it much easier to find focus and escape now. She found her mind opening like a flower. Time lost all meaning. She felt herself an organic part of this lake that had watched over every step of her life. The lake knew Darryl too, and reached out for him. She watched the passage of the sun across the sky in terms of colors and shadows and rhythms of life, not time. When the sun had relinquished the sky to the soft light of the moon and her soul shared the peace that descended on the lake, she heard the soft steps of a large animal. The wolf nuzzled her and spoke.



"You have learned to sing again with your heart?"

"Yes, and I thank you for such a gift."

"I did not give you that gift. You found what was lost within yourself."

"Thank you for guiding me to find it."

"Your heart sings to the one, your mate?

"My heart sings to the one I would have as my mate."

"But you are still sad."

"My mate to be is still lost far away."

"You are now sure you want him as your mate?"

"Oh yes, I am sure, very sure."

"You want his seed in your womb, you will nurse his young."

"If only I have the chance, yes, oh yes."

"You will sacrifice and risk all for this mate?"

"I will risk my very life."

"He is still in great danger, you must send help."

"Who do I send?"

"One who is very close to you and very brave, he will be your champion."

"Where do I send him?"

"You will need all of your inner vision, no one outside of the land where they hide knows where. You are the key"

"How will I know where the vision shows me in a land I do not know?"

"How do you get those that do not want to listen, to hear?

"Tell me how."

"I cannot, I can tell you what must be, and you must supply the how."

"But I may fail."

"Then he will die."

"You are harsh."

"Life is harsh, I am just a wolf."



With that the wolf lay down and promptly went to sleep and though troubled, Courtney laid her head down on the wolf's shoulder and fell asleep. Once again she started having a dream of startling visual clarity and impact. Gradually things came into focus. It was obviously a cave, but a cave that had been designed for hiding humans. It was equipped with simple metal army cots and basic barracks furniture. Illumination was provided by several battery powered lanterns. Metal shelves surrounded the room with supplies of food and water. She recognized all of the occupants. Darryl was there, talking with the tall beautiful Afghan woman. She was ashamed at the jealousy she felt as she watched Darryl with this magnificent creature, her rival for his love. Did she really deserve Darryl? The Afghan woman was with him, helping him, supporting him, while Courtney had let him go. They had the little girl with the oud with them. They must have brought her along. Why? The American woman was also there but she was sitting at the bedside of the fifth member of the band. He was injured and partially covered in bandages but Courtney was sure she recognized him as Darryl's associate, James McNichol. Clearly, they were both alive. The attack on the American journalists had failed. So why were they hiding? And where exactly were they hiding?.

She focused in more tightly looking for any clue at all. Instead she started picking up bits of conversation. Not the whole thing just bits and pieces like a poorly tuned radio station. She listened carefully. The first thing she got was names. The Afghan beauty was named Azalea; figures that even her name would be exotic. The American woman was Cheryl and the little girl was named Nura. And yes, the injured man was James McNichol. Beyond that she could get very little. They had been there for days and expected to be there a long time yet, although they didn't know how long. They were waiting on someone named Kabir to help them, but apparently he was being watched. If anything happened to this Kabir they would be trapped. Before she could learn anymore they faded away and she awoke to dawn breaking over the lake. The wolf was gone. She awakened Gaho who had not been aware of the wolf during the night. Courtney described her vision and they agreed that the first step was to recruit Karl as Courtney's champion.

They headed straight over to his apartment and woke Jaclyn and him. Jaclyn graciously fixed everyone breakfast while they discussed the vision.

"Karl, I'm going to need your help," Courtney said, "according to the vision, they are trapped in this cave unless I send help. For help I'm supposed to send someone close who sounds very much like you. I have no right to ask you to do anything so dangerous but I have no one else to turn to. I have no idea how this can even be done but somehow you're going to have to help find this cave. Otherwise Darryl will die. Oh God, Karl, I'm asking you to risk your life on something impossible. What am I going to do" She seemed ready to break down in tears.

Karl took her in his arms. His strength reassured her. "Courtney, there is nothing that you cannot ask of me if it's in my power. I do have a background in Special Forces including hostage rescue but that was a long time ago. I don't see exactly how I can help with this. I've never even been in that part of the world. I think I had best start by calling on one of my old friends in the spook world and see what he can find out."

Karl returned in a half hour. It was a hard sell except two of your names clicked and got some attention. Anyway, we're going to have company tomorrow evening who may be able to fill in some of the blanks. Get some rest; things will probably start to move fast after that.

Courtney finally had a feeling of peace. Darryl was alive although in danger; however she was finally helping. As the wolf might have said, she was claiming her mate. Knowing that she was doing something, setting wheels in motion, let her feel closer to Darryl.

The next evening after dinner Karl, Courtney, Jaclyn and Gaho met with a handsome, rugged faced young man with steely gray eyes. "This is Dave Worthy, an old friend who works for, let's just say, a government agency dealing in foreign affairs. Courtney, I would like you to tell Dave your whole fantastic story. Then he'll help us figure out how to proceed."

Dave listened patiently and attentively to the complete account.

"Thank you Courtney, that is an amazing and almost unbelievable story. In fact, I would probably have dismissed it as fiction except for a few points. One is that we were having some doubts about the deaths, especially James because we have looked very hard for that body and just can't find it. Second, you came up with some names that you were very unlikely to have just guessed, but which put some pieces in place for us. Just to make sure I want you to look at some pictures and see if anyone looks familiar."

First Dave spread out a set of five western women. "This first set should be easier. Does anyone here look familiar?

Courtney pointed at one of the picture. "This is the one they called Cheryl, she seemed to be very attentive to James McNichol."

"Right, she's Cheryl Woodson, a veteran journalist and a notorious vamp but its been long suspected that she's been carrying a torch for James McNichol. She would very much like to be Mrs. McNichol if and when James settles down. Now try your hand with these"

Dave now set out a set of pictures of young attractive women with Middle Eastern characteristics.

Without hesitation Courtney picked up one picture. "This is the one called Azalea."

"She is in fact Azalea Durrani, a native of Kabul, Afghanistan although she has been to school in England and the United States. She is a highly qualified emergency medicine nurse but she is a lot more than that. Being very well educated and extremely intelligent, she is rather independent for a woman in her society. But then her whole family is not really typical. They are Qizilbash, a small group of perhaps 50,000 and one of the most literate groups in Afghanistan; they traditionally hold important administrative and professional positions. The Durrani family has always worked outside of official government circles. Nothing explicitly criminal, but they're not averse to working the grey areas. And they have survived by staying out of politics as much as possible. I'm not sure whether or not that's going to work with the Taliban. "

"The head of the family is her brother Kabir who they are probably waiting on to organize their escape. The problem may be that he can't. We checked with one of our agents in Kabul who knows Kabir and he believes that he is under tight surveillance and may not be in a position to help them. If so, they are effectively trapped where they are. Kabir is resourceful and he and James have worked together for years but he just doesn't have the resources to take on the Taliban. It's really just him, his four brothers and a few trusted associates."

"I hope you haven't come all this way just to make us feel the situation is hopeless, Mr. Worthy. " Courtney's tone was just this side of hostile.

"No Ma'am, I wouldn't do that to you. I've come with a plan. It's not fool-proof but it's got a chance. We're going to have an agent surreptitiously contact Kabir and confirm the situation. Then we'll get the cave's GPS location from him. With that we'll put on a covert op and send in a SEAL team and pull them out at night. There's some risk but it's manageable. The main thing is to go quickly before the Taliban find the cave."

"That sounds great Dave, but I have to ask, why? Why would the U.S. Government spend taxpayer money and risk lives to put on a rescue mission to save some photojournalists?"

"An excellent question actually. I wish I could pretend the answer was simple like we do it because American citizens are in danger but that would be bullshit. Nothing in Washington is simple. Actually there is something to what I just said. At any given moment there are more Americans traveling around the world than some nations have population. They all travel under the belief that they are protected from a world that largely hates and envies them by the strong arm of Uncle Sam.

In fact we are not in a position to directly protect them except to the extent that we can maintain a reputation and appearance of power. So when a militant group targets Americans it erodes that shield. If we can thwart their plot and rescue those Americans from under their very noses it strengthens the myth and makes Americans everywhere that much safer.

It also doesn't hurt the party in the White House politically either. Beyond that, we are very interested in this group that has assaulted Americans and rescuing the intended victims is one way of drawing them out. Mr. McNichol is a military veteran and has many years experience covering the Middle East for National Geographic. We are very anxious to get his observations about current conditions in Afghanistan. We especially want his observations on the attack on the convoy."

"It would seem that you have everything well in hand so I'm puzzled by one thing. My vision and animal guide has been very accurate but they indicated my personal champion would need to be involved in the rescue. I felt that had to be Karl but it looks like it will be strangers making the rescue."

"Not true Courtney, actually I had planned to invite Karl to join the party."

Karl looked startled. "Me? Whatever for, it sounds like a job for the regular professionals to me."

Dave laughed. "I gathered you haven't been completely open about your background. I assure you ladies that Karl is no newcomer to this type of operations. His career hasn't always been escorting around beautiful music divas. It has been a few years but his reserve training has kept him current and his competitive athletics has certainly kept him fit."

"That still doesn't explain why me, are you short of trained personnel?"

"No Karl, but we have learned the value of having someone on rescue missions who knows one of the people being rescued. It prevents unnecessary panic and tragic mistakes. Strangely enough, the first reaction of people suddenly confronted by strange creatures dressed all in black carrying huge weapons and strange devices over their eyes is not always relief and joy. It's more likely to be sheer terror. A familiar voice calling out to say 'hey Darryl, it's me Karl, we're here to rescue you' can prevent a lot of confusion and the chance of someone shooting us by mistake."

"I see your point, and of course I'm happy to join in."

"Well kiss your honey good bye, and pack your skivvies, we're leaving immediately. The sooner we can put this show on the better. It will take almost a week to gather the intel, put together and train a team, and get the choppers in place. The longer we wait the more likely they are to be discovered."

Afghanistan June 25 June 26

The power of hiding ourselves from one another is mercifully given, for men are wild beasts, and would devour one another but for this protection.

Henry Ward Beecher (1813 - 1887), "Proverbs from Plymouth Pulpit", 1887

They had been in the cave for ten days and had received no word from Kabir. They were beginning to feel very much forgotten. Even Azalea was wondering if something had happened to her brother. Darryl had found a pair of binoculars and had carefully left the cave to look around several times. His frightening discovery was that they seemed to be in the center of a large rendezvous area for Taliban troops. There were several encampments nearby and vehicles were constantly maneuvering in the area. It would have been extremely dangerous to attempt to walk out even if there had been anywhere to go. Besides, James's injuries made any such attempt out of the question. They had no choice but to wait and hope.

Darryl had received a major shock during the first few days in the cave. James had summoned him to his bedside. He took a long time gathering his thoughts before he spoke.

"I probably should have told you this much sooner but I liked the relationship we had developed. The ambush made me realize I wasn't immortal and that the time had come for you to know the truth about our relationship. Just please don't judge anyone until I'm done."

"I cared for your mother very much. She was a very talented artist living in Georgetown, near Washington so I saw her fairly often since I came frequently to National Geographic Headquarters. Of all the women I had relationships with, I came the closest to committing to her, but she wouldn't allow it. She called me her soaring eagle and she said she loved me because I was a wild free creature. She said that like all free creatures, to domesticate me would destroy the very qualities she loved."

"One day she announced she was marrying your dad. She admitted she did not and probably never would feel about him quite the way she felt about me but he was a more domestic animal and a good man. He would take care of her and they would love each other in their own way. While I was disappointed that our relationship was over, I was happy for her and attended the wedding. I immediately liked your dad. He was a solid, dependable, honest man and he obviously loved and supported her in her art and in her life. They had a son, you, their only child, almost right away and I was surprised and flattered when they named me godfather. They regularly sent me pictures and reports on your growing up and having no family of my own I took my role of Godfather seriously and never forgot your birthday or Christmas. The gifts were always anonymous or from Santa.

"That explains a lot. I was always getting some of my neatest gifts but they just showed up and it was really fuzzy who they were from."

"I always wanted to spend time with you in person but your mother discouraged me. She said that she was afraid that you would find me so much more interesting than your dad that it might undercut him. I found that puzzling and a bit hurtful but I respected her wishes."

"Mom was probably right. I loved dad and he was a wonderful guy but Mr. Excitement he wasn't. That's why I really looked to grandpa Kedrick for my masculine role model; he's the one who taught me to fish and play baseball. He was even the one who gave me the "birds and bees" lecture and gave me clues on how to deal with girls. If you had been around I'm sure I would have bonded to you."

"In return, she promised that I could take a much more active role in your life as soon as you graduated from college. So from a distance, I watched you grow into a fine young man. You went to college, got your degree and I was waiting for you at graduation. Even then I told you that the gift was from the Kedrick's which was partially true, we had split it. But the weeks we spent at the cabin were when I really got to know you."

"Those were the greatest weeks of my life, and without them, I'm not sure I would have a career, certainly not this career."

"After your dad was killed in the private plane crash and before she knew about the cancer that finally killed her, your mother came to see me. She confessed that I am more than your godfather; I am also your biological father."

There was a long pause and a total silence. Finally, James reached out and put his hand on Darryl's shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm just stunned; I suspected something but still to actually hear the words. So you really are my dad?"

"No Darryl, I'm your biological father, the sperm donor, your dad is that good man who spent all those years raising you and taking care of you."

"I understand, but how did this happen? Oh hell, I know how obviously, I mean why you and not dad?"

"Apparently your mom and dad had dated on and off for a couple of years, even while I was seeing your mom when I was in town. He had hinted a few times on wanting to make their relationship more permanent, but she resisted. That last time I was in Washington, her birth control failed and she got pregnant. She confessed what had happened to your dad and told him that if he still wanted her she'd marry him. Your dad was a very compassionate man and was willing to marry her and raise you as his son. Somehow, they never had another child; I don't think they ever knew why."

She apologized for cheating me out of our rightful relationship and at first I was angry. But then I realized that this woman actually gave two men a great gift. She gave your dad a devoted wife and a son, who he loved and raised as his own for as long as he lived. She gave me a partial son when otherwise I would have had no one, so I bear her no grudge. It's is too late for you to ever consider me to be dad. You are a grown man, I can't read you bedside stories or dry your tears when you are hurt, but I'm ready to give you whatever you are looking for from your natural father."

"James, I think you have given far more and still have more to give than you know. I thought I lost my father eight years ago but now I find I have a father once again."

Although that was the most dramatic change, the ten days had changed each of the five people and had more importantly changed relationships between them. Nura, whose mother had been killed by a land mine when she was five, quickly adopted Azalea as a combination mother and big sister. It was a role that Azalea welcomed and they became very close. It also helped Azalea deal with her feelings towards Darryl. She was in love, but she knew that his heart belonged to Courtney. Azalea was too proud to be anyone's other woman. She would wait while Darryl and Courtney sorted out their relationship but if Courtney didn't claim him, she would take him away from her forever.

Darryl was acutely aware of this tension. Azalea was very beautiful and he had not had a woman since his unexpected encounter with Cheryl back in Athens. To say that he was miserable was an understatement. He was trapped in a cave with three females; one ten year girl, one beautiful woman who was in love with him but too proud to have sex with him, one beautiful woman who was almost notoriously promiscuous but was with the one love of her life. He thought he would go mad sometimes.

One night after ten days in the cave Darryl was restless and laying in a state somewhere between awake and asleep. He had never had a really comfortable bed in the cave. Too tall for the short army cots, he had laid a few of the thin mattresses together on the sand. The resulting bed was generously large but uncomfortably hard. In the darkness of the cave he felt the warmth of a body crawl into his bed with him.

A warm set of lips caressed his and whispered, "shhh, be quiet, just let it happen. You need this, or you'll explode."

"Cheryl?"

"Yes baby, disappointed? I know you'd prefer Azalea but you'll have to settle for little old me."

"But, James?"

"Sugah, James knows I'm here, he doesn't want you to explode either. Better enjoy it now, if we get out of here, this time next year this might be incest. Now shut up and let a girl do what a girl's gotta do."

As she whispered she reached into his briefs and took his manhood in her small hands. His erection was almost instantaneous, as she gently stroked him. He gasped, so welcome was the touch. Darryl closed his eyes and just enjoyed the sensation. He was hardly aware of another body on his other side until another small hand replaced Cheryl's.

Another familiar voice quietly said, "No Cheryl, this is my responsibility. You have your man to take care of. Darryl is not mine to have, but he is mine to care for right now. He is a man and I have ignored his needs."

"Are you sure Azalea? Your society is different."

"I have five brothers, I'm a trained nurse, and I have lived in the west for years. I understand men very well, Cheryl, maybe not as well as you but enough."

"Ladies," Darryl protested, "I'm beginning to feel like a chore to be done. Let's forget it. I don't want to be a charity case."

Cheryl laughed "Darryl, you are so innocent when it comes to women. We almost never do anything we don't want to do. We also never admit to men that we want sex. You're not a chore at all. Yes James gave his blessing but coming was my idea. Azalea could have just ignored what was going on but she chose to become involved. You're not a charity case, you actually have two women fighting over you; whether Azalea will admit it or not."

Azalea blushed. "What she says is true Darryl, I have tried to not touch you because I cannot have you, but I forgot your needs. When I realized what Cheryl was doing I became jealous. I had no right because she was taking care of needs I had ignored."

Cheryl leaned over and whispered to Azalea who smiled in apparent agreement. Darryl listened fascinated to a rustle of fabrics. The result was that he found himself the delighted filling in the middle of a naked woman sandwich. The two feminine set of hands then proceeded to remove the underwear he had taken to sleeping in. He felt the petite breasts of Cheryl cradling his arm on one side while her lips nibbled at his ears and the more voluptuous breasts of Azalea on the other side while her lips sought his own. Two hands fondled his erection. Darryl had an odd, rags-to-riches feeling, going from a feeling of total neglect to this abundance of attention. If this kept up, it wouldn't be long before he did explode. The women both seemed to sense this as they didn't stroke or stimulate his cock directly for the moment. Truth to be told, they were both enjoying the skin to skin contact with the handsome and virile young man. They too had suffered from the odd combination of boredom and tension of hiding in the cave and if their physical needs were less urgent, they were no less real. Even Cheryl who had the constant companionship of James was randy since his injuries precluded any serious sexual activity.

Darryl found himself kissing first Azalea, who tasted exotic and spicy, while Cheryl nibbled at the exposed ear; then kissing Cheryl who tasted lighter and fruity, leaving his other ear to Azalea's attention. It was a game he enjoyed, but was destined to lose rapidly to such a double team. And team was an apt description for based on some combination of their whispered conversation and pure instinct they were as tightly choreographed as an erotic ballet. At just the perfect moment as he was sinking into a cloudlike paradise of soft skin and feminine smells and tastes his two sensual angels divided up. Azalea moved up until one of her large and now rigid nipples just teased his lips. He drew it into his mouth like a starving infant and her arms cradled his head and drew him even tighter to her breast as her hands gently stroked his hair. Cheryl moved south leaving a trail of little butterfly kisses across his abdomen if only to make her direction and eventual target all the more obvious. When her lips disappeared briefly the anticipation caused him to gasp around the nipple in held between his lips. Then as he felt the velvet wet grasp of Cheryl's mouth draw him into her warmth he returned his attention to that lovely, firm bud in his mouth.

He shuddered with the sheer eroticism of the sensations; sensations far beyond the talents of a single woman. They paused to let him enjoy the moment and in many ways he would have liked to have frozen time forever at that point. But his body's instinctive need for release was not to be long denied and he made small movements that cued Cheryl to begin a slow and gentle stroke from the crown to the base with her talented tongue paying special attention to the sensitive area under the crown. Her hands were busy creating mischief with his other erogenous zones, not that extra stimulation was required. In fact, she stopped all motion and squeezed the base of his cock the first few times she felt his cum rising in order to build him to even higher levels of arousal. But the tension in his abdominal muscles and the small movements of his hips showed her she was playing a dangerous game. Abstinence and boredom had done her work for her and he was already on the verge of a magnificent climax.

She increased the speed of her mouth and the suction and the depth on his cock until he was probing into her throat and when she felt the tension building again, she drew back until she had just the head and waited for his seed. While she wasn't necessarily that fond of the taste of cum, she was in love with the effect that taking a man's cum had on them. She loved the power it gave her over him; the look in his eyes, the feel of his body as he reached his release. And this was a good one. Darryl came so hard he practically flew off the bed. Azalea was wise enough to withdraw her nipple from harms way until the muscle spasms had passed. Then as he lay there in a dreamlike state of pure contentment she gave it back to him and found him suckling like a contended infant. That also described Cheryl's activities as she gently sucked and licked his cock until it was completely deflated. She then quietly got up, kissed him on the cheek and went back to James's bedside leaving Azalea to cuddle with him until almost morning.

She gently woke him with a kiss. "Darryl, I wish we could make love but that cannot happen so long as you belong to another. What has happened is the most that can happen between us. I am sorry. I will leave you now; Nura will expect me to be beside her when she awakes." She kissed him gently and was gone.

Darryl lay there thinking, not for the fist time, 'Courtney, you've always been my true love but I'm giving up a hell of a lot here waiting for you to decide what your priorities are. I could be very happy with Azalea and I know she'd make me the most important thing in her life.' It was a lot to consider, Darryl mind was full of thoughts about women and the feelings of the erotic escapades of the night.

Half a world away, a lonely woman sitting on a dock felt a lurch in her chest and knew that she had no time left. She had to get to Darryl now!

It is not surprising that he was too distracted to hear the sound of intruders entering the cave. One second they weren't there, the next they were and a quick glance reveled that these were not anyone sent by Kabir, these were Taliban soldiers. They had been found.



-------

Chapter 16: Time and Time Again




WARNING - SOME VIOLENT and EMOTIONAL CONTENT!

It has always been my policy to avoid graphic and gratuitous violence in my stories. The storyline in this chapter requires a degree of violence, mild by most standards, but higher than my readers may have come to expect. The ending also may be more intense emotionally than some readers are comfortable with. In this case, please do nor read any part of this chapter that feels uncomfortable to you. The story will return to more pleasant surroundings shortly. If you will email me I will send you an edited version with the violent material briefly summarized.

Notes on Military Time & Zulu Time

Military time, which uses the 24-hour time standard, begins each day at midnight, which is called 0000 hours. 1 AM is referred to as 0100. Noontime is 1200 hours, 1 PM is 1300, 2 PM is 1400, etc.

ZULU time, has as its origin Greenwich, England. When it is midnight in Greenwich, we consider that to be the beginning of a new day worldwide. Why one time standard? To prevent confusion with military operations requiring exact coordination over many different local time zones, especially non-standard ones like the half hour offset in Afghanistan.



Time takes it all, whether you want it to or not. Time takes it all, time bears it away, and in the end there is only darkness. Sometimes we find others in that darkness, and sometimes we lose them there again. 
 Stephen King

The Cave, Afghanistan

Tues., June, 26 9:30 AM (Local), Tues., June 26 05:00:00 (Zulu)

The two groups, the Taliban patrol and the fugitive party were equally surprised at this unexpected encounter but the difference was that the former were armed with AK-47 assault rifles. The two men started yelling orders and questions to everyone; getting angry and frustrated with the lack of response, until Azalea finally convinced them that they would have to use her as a translator. It infuriated them to have to deal with a woman, especially one who dressed so "indecently" and acted so independently.

They forced her to fashion a head covering and veil from a bed sheet and to prostrate herself before them. Although Azalea was perfectly capable of handling the discussions on her own, the Taliban forced her to constantly go and consult with James and Darryl rather than admit, even to themselves, that a woman might actually understand what was going on. They struck her, spat on her and even Darryl's meager street vocabulary was enough to know that she was being called a whore. Finally, they sent her back and she gathered everyone around.

"Officially, I am to tell you that you are prisoners of the Taliban and being infidels are at the mercy of the judgment of Allah; In this case, as determined by them. Don't worry, they speak no English at all, I'm sure of that. I'm sure they are not here in any official capacity. They just stumbled on this cave while looking for loot. In fact, they are afraid of getting in trouble. They are arguing about what to do. The taller one wants to skim some of the best loot and bury it for later retrieval, rape me since I'm just a foreigner's whore anyway, turn us and the cave over to higher command and become heroes. The short scruffy looking one seems somewhat less devoted to the cause. He wants to rape me, then kill us all and bury us in the sand and keep the cave to loot at leisure. So far the only thing they have agreed on is raping me. After that our fate is in the air."

"I won't stand here and let those animals rape you Azalea, whatever the odds."

"Dear sweet Darryl, yes you will. It will be hard but I will not have you throw your life away to save my virginity, I've been tempted often enough to give it to you anyway."

Darryl just stared at her. "Azalea I had no idea."

"I know, but this is not the time and place to discuss that topic. If you wish to risk your life I think you must do it to try to save us all."

"What do you have in mind?" asked Cheryl.

"We would all have to agree but I think we have to take a chance and try to overpower these dangerous fools rather than depend on their mercy or sense of justice."

"I agree," said Darryl, "Let's call the roll. Everyone be honest. It's all our lives we're gambling with. And quickly, I think our friends' patience is running out. James, starting with you."

"Hell, you know my vote is to try to get free, I just wish I could really help."

"Cheryl?"

"I'm a rebel Honey, no surrender."

"Azalea?"

"You see the future I have with them. I'm a Durrani, I fight. Same for Nura."

"Well I'm in," said Darryl, "now any ideas?"

"Yes," said Azalea, "I'm going to try to get the raping moved up before anyone gets hurt. They aren't going to do it in public so whichever one goes first is going to take me in the other chamber. That's obviously our best chance. It's the only time they'll be split up."

Lake House

Tues., June, 26 1:00 AM (Local), Tues., June 26 05:00:00 (Zulu)

Courtney was sleeping in her own bed but a sound awakened her. She listened, 'scratch' skreetch', it was coming from the French windows. She sat up in bed. There stood the wolf, her eyes gleaming. Courtney arose and went to the window and opened it. Was the wolf coming in? No the wolf awaited her. She exited and they walked together to the lake.

"You have never come without me seeking you before."

"I had to come, there are ill winds"

"Did I fail?"

"No, you did well, your champion has done well?"

"What is not well?

"Time has betrayed you, fate has betrayed you"

"What can I do?"

"Those that would rescue must go sooner"

"How much sooner?"

"If they go when they are now to go they will be far too late."

"How much sooner should they go?"

"If they go as quickly as they can, the race may be won by minutes or seconds, but not hours"

"And if they lose the race."

The wolf for the first time did not answer her.

"Please, you have to tell me, what if they lose the race."

The wolf's eyes turned to her filled with pain and emptiness. "Why make me say it when you already know the answer."

Courtney gasped and started running as fast as she could, an almost ghostlike creature in a diaphanous nightgown running across the Lake House lawn to Jaclyn's apartment. She beat upon the door until a few moments later a sleepy Jaclyn opened it.

"Courtney, what in hell, it's the middle of the night, what's wrong?"

"I have to talk to Karl, right away."

"That's impossible; they're at a top secret forward base now, probably in Pakistan. There are no calls in or out, it'll take days to go through channels."

"Fuck channels! There's no time. C'mon Jaclyn give. You and Karl are mad in love. You have some way of communicating, don't you? Some little secret."

"But Courtney, if I admitted something like that, I could get some people in trouble."

"And if you don't, you could get some people dead."

"OK Courtney, there is one way but I can't guarantee it'll work. We've never actually tried it and we didn't have a lot of time to discuss it before he left."

"I've got zip now, so let's hear it."

"Karl says that they block email, instant messenger, ftp and anything going out but they allow plain old surfing so the guys can get their porn and sports scores and stuff. So I have a little private space tucked away on the courtney.com site that I can post things and Karl supposedly checks there. In an emergency I could put a disguised message and he'd get it. I've never posted anything and I have no way of telling if he checks it or not."

"Well, for right now, it's the best shot we've got. What do I have to do?"

"You have to think of some way of disguising the message so that it looks completely innocuous."

"Shit, how do you hide a wolf?"

Jaclyn thought a moment, then snapped her finger. "Perfect, hot damn Courtney, I've got it! Make it look like a children's story."

"Excuse me? Won't that seem suspicious? A grown man reading kiddies stories?"

"Not really, Karl collects them off the internet all the time to tell to his nieces and nephews. It's his favorite thing. He also does story telling sessions in childrens' hospitals."

"I didn't know that. What a great dad he will be."

"I think about that all the time Courtney. It makes me really look forward to having his children someday."

"Well if I don't get to work writing a great children's story I may never get the chance to have Darryl's."

"You'd better write fast, it's already midmorning there and I from what the wolf told you they need to mount the mission tonight. That's an impossibly short time to put something like that together."

The Cave, Afghanistan

Tues., June, 26 10:00 AM (Local), Tues., June 26 05:30:00 (Zulu)

"A single guard isn't going to let anyone close, we'll need a distraction."

"That's my department," said Cheryl, "thinking about his buddy in the backroom with Azalea will make the one left here pretty horny. Darryl, make sure you're on a different eye line from me. I'll give that guy a good look up my skirt, sans underwear, and that ought to give you a second to move."

One of the Taliban starting shouting and gesturing for them to separate, so Azalea responded meekly.

"They are getting suspicious so we have to break up. They want food so Cheryl, you help me fix a meal, then I'm going to turn on the charm and the rest of you get ready. I'll explain it all to Nura."

She took Nura to the make-shift kitchen area to help. There she whispered the plan to the young girl. She had to be careful that the Taliban didn't overhear. Nura hardened by a lifetime of exposure to war accepted the situation and her part in it as calmly as if she were being asked to wash dishes after a church social. In fact, she had seen a steel pipe lying under a storage cabinet earlier and had retrieved it for future use. She had already noticed that the Taliban, with their general contempt for the ability of women, paid her very little attention. Getting the heavy weapon and concealing it in her voluminous clothing would prove surprisingly easy.

When the meal was ready, Cheryl and Azalea served it. They also shared it as the Taliban made them eat first to make sure that there was no poison. Azalea served the shorter soldier judging him the easier to seduce. She acted properly subservient, intimating how nice it was to be back among real Moslem men instead of these decadent infidels. For a common soldier to be faced with such a beauty was a rare occurrence and he never stood a chance. He was soon so erect, he was afraid he would cast his seed upon the ground if he didn't move to deposit them in the belly of this beautiful if sinful concubine.

He turned to his comrade. "Watch these others, while I take this whore with me for some religious instruction. Perhaps when I am finished you may wish to instruct her as well."

The tall soldier laughed. "Yes, I have been looking forward to spending time with her to correct her shameful behavior. Teach her well."

Azalea tried to put up just the right amount of struggle to be convincing, which wasn't hard because she had never been so afraid in her life. Darryl tried to close his eyes and his ears to her screams but he had never found it so hard to maintain discipline, nor to forgive himself for his inaction. Gradually her screams faded as the soldier dragged her into the other chamber.

Lake House

Tues., June, 26 1:30 AM (Local), Tues., June 26 05:30:00 (Zulu)

Courtney wrote frantically for the next thirty minutes. She gave the result to Jaclyn who very quickly edited it and put it in HTML format for a website. She dressed the page with artwork she had gathered while Courtney wrote. If anyone other than Karl stumbled on the site they would just see it as a harmless children's story. Hopefully so would anyone monitoring the sites Karl visited for possible security breaches.

"Be honest Jaclyn, what do you think?"

"I think you did great. Anyone finding this would believe it to be part of an ordinary children's story. I don't think anything here seems phony or out of place. But to Karl it would be as crystal clear as a newspaper. There is no mistaking the message."

"So what do think the odds are?"

"Not great, I'm afraid; first, is Karl even going to be online, will he check the site, can he convince David Worthy to take any of this seriously, and even if he does, will it be even possible to put together and launch the mission on that short a notice? On the other hand, I don't know anything else we can do. Let's post it on the net and pray."

Adventure Stories from the Lake




THE RESCUE CHAPTER 6


(Click on title to see the page they posted for Karl)

The Cave, Afghanistan
Tues., June, 26 10:15 AM (Local), Tues., June 26 05:45:00 (Zulu)

Darryl tried to get further away from Cheryl so that he would be out of the guards peripheral vision when she started her 'up skirt' distraction but the soldier kept motioning them back together. Time was running out and the sounds of struggle were getting fainter. Darryl was going mad thinking about beautiful Azalea being savagely deflowered by that brutish soldier. He had finally decided to take his chances the first time that the guard's eyes were not on him and leap for the assault rifle. Then suddenly he got an unexpected opportunity.

The cry that came from the other chamber was not fear, it was mortal pain, it was not male or female it was animal. All eyes turned to the opening as though they could see through the very rock wall. Darryl would have turned too except that he was already poised and ready to leap and so he did. He very nearly made it. The guard saw the motion in his peripheral vision and reacted surprisingly quickly as he turned towards the attack. Darryl managed to get his hand on the muzzle of the AK-47 and deflect it downward just as the soldier fired. Instead of disemboweling him, the shot went through his thigh missing bone but blinding him with a red flash of pain. His momentum carried him into the Taliban's gut in a fairly good football block knocking him down but he hung on to the assault rifle. Cheryl made a dive for it but the soldier leapt clear and sprung to his feat like an athlete. He turned the rifle on Cheryl and Darryl both sprawled on the ground at his feet and looked as though he was debating whether or not to shoot them out of hand.

He raised the lethal rifle until the muzzle was just inches from Darryl's ear. It was fairly clear that he, at least, was going to be punished for the assault. The next sound was indescribable and sickening. You heard great force striking liquid, and shattering thin bones and thicker bones. It was a sound that hurt even before you knew that it was striking a human. It was the sound of Nura taking a swing like a designated hitter with her sequestered steel pipe and totally destroying the guard's right knee. He collapsed in shrieking agony, his precious firearm dropped without thought. Everyone in the room knew that he would never walk on that leg again. And her next hit would be his head... 

Darryl grabbed the weapon and rose to his feet. His violated thigh burned as though a red hot poker was stuck in it. He felt nothing. He was obsessed with stopping the nightmare that was going on in that other chamber. To redeem the shame he felt for failing to protect her, he was prepared to sacrifice his own life. As he rushed towards the entrance, he almost collided with Azalea rushing the other way also carrying an AK-47. Except for a few rips and blood spatters on her clothes she looked OK. Especially her eyes which did not show the fear and intimidation of a woman just raped. They had only fire.

"Azalea, my God, are you alright? Did he hurt you? Did he... did he... ?"

"Rape me? No Darryl, I am fine, believe me, I am unhurt in any way."

"But how?"

"I am a Durrani; I was raised by five brothers and taught how to protect my honor. No man calls a Durrani woman a whore and lives. I waited until he had uncovered just enough of my body to lose track of my hands." She laughed grimly, "Men are easily distracted by the female body. I used the knife I always carry under my skirt and avenged my honor. You Darryl, come from a society where a woman's honor is not protected in this way. I ask you not to go in that chamber so that you will not think of me in terms of what you may see there. I fear it would offend your western eyes."

"I promise..." Darryl's wound caught up with him and he fainted.

"Darryl" she screamed, "you're hurt! Is it bad?"

"I haven't had a chance to examine it," said Cheryl, but I think it went through the fleshy part of the thigh. Unfortunately, it means our entire male contingent is on the injured list. It's up to us gals now."

Azalea reached under her skirt and produced a nasty looking little dagger. Cheryl had no doubt that it had served as the instrument of retribution against her would be rapist. Now it found a more peaceful use as she used it to slit open Darryl's pants leg in order to examine the wound. She was relieved to see that the bullet, traveling at a high velocity near the muzzle and meeting no hard resistance had passed through without tumbling or fragmenting. It left a big hole through the muscle, and it was going to be very painful for a good while, but Azalea's medical judgment was that he would recover completely except for two round scars the size of a quarter.

"What happened to him?" asked Azalea indicating the taller Taliban lying in obvious shock with his lower leg at an improbable angle.

"Let's just say he forgot to watch little Nura and being a typical child starved for attention she decided to rearrange his kneecap with a steel pipe. Incidentally saving all out lives in the process."

Azalea examined him briefly. "Nothing will help him except a total knee replacement and there is virtually no chance he'll ever have a chance to get one."

"Well, we better get organized and figure what's next."

"First we need to secure the guard in case he gets over the pain enough to become a problem."

"Nura took care of that, she used these giant tie wraps I thought were for garbage bags or something but apparently they have replaced handcuffs. How'd she know that?"

"She has lived her entire life in a war zone, regrettably, that's the kind of thing she does know. If we get out of here I want her to learn the things she missed like playing with dolls. We will have to cut him loose long enough to get his uniform. We will need the other one as well although it's a little bloody I'm afraid."

"I'm glad to hear it Azalea. I've been raped and I've seen too many other women that have been also. I don't think men really understand what it does to a woman. I heard what you said to Darryl about seeing the body might shock him, and it probably would. But I want you to know that whatever you did to him is fine with me. I would have cut off his dick and stuffed it down his throat and let him choke to death."

Cheryl noticed that Azalea did not respond to this except with a strange little enigmatic smile.

Cheryl's eyes grew very large and she gasped. "Oh my God! You did, you actually did. You are my hero. But you're right, don't let Darryl see, he would probably never feel completely comfortable around you again."

"Then I'll finish taking care of Darryl's wound while you sneak out and take a look around and see what our situation is."

Azalea cleaned and dressed Darryl's wound. He was feeling more comfortable but at this moment when they needed him operational, it was obvious that he was not even going to walk unassisted and he certainly would not be doing any more hand to hand combat.

Covert Operations Base, Near Afghan Border

Tues., June, 26 10:30 AM (Local), Tues., June 26 06:00:00 (Zulu)

With about 36 hours to go before the rescue operation, Karl found himself getting restless for action. He was impressed with the quality of resources the Dave Worthy had pulled together. The four man SEAL team was razor sharp and thoroughly professional. Karl would trust them covering his back anywhere. They would be riding in on a MH-53M Pave Low designed specifically for low-level, long-range, undetected penetration into denied areas, day or night. If you had to sneak into bad guy land to do a rescue there was no better ride. Now he just had to deal with the waiting. He wondered into the library to the short row of PCs, and remembering the arrangement he had made with Jaclyn he sat down and logged on... Knowing that detailed logs were kept he didn't go there right away but just wandered around to innocuous sites. Finally he went to the URL they had agreed on expecting a blank page. Instead he found a children's story but the title alone told him it was no ordinary children's story. He read it quickly.

"Oh shit!" he thought, "I've got to get this to Dave. I hope the hell he's in a reading mood today."

The Cave, Afghanistan

Tues., June, 26 10:40 AM (Local), Tues., June 26 06:10:00 (Zulu)

Cheryl returned from her reconnaissance. They had set up a bed next to James, for Darryl and they all gathered there for a strategy meet. Cheryl reported first.

"The good news is they left us a dandy little truck complete with a machine gun in the rear. The bad news is that if we tried to go anywhere, at least in daylight, we'd be lucky to make it a thousand yards. Our only chance is at night and that's gonna be tough enough. I'm worried about a deserted truck sitting outside. There isn't enough brush to cover it effectively and a half assed attempt could be worse than nothing at all. James, you're the most experienced, what do you suggest?"

As he always did, James thought carefully before he spoke. I agree we have to sit tight until night. An abandoned vehicle will attract attention so we are going to have to use our captured uniforms. It should be two "men". Azalea, you have to be one because of language. You'd better practice your baritone. Darryl, you up to sitting in a truck looking like a bored soldier?"

"Sure James... Dad, I'll manage."

"Get Azalea to make you up to get the right skin coloring, you've got a good tan to help. You guys take the AK-47s but remember, they are props only. If our little tableau fails to fool anyone don't play hero. We're surrounded by half the Taliban army; you're not going to win a fire fight."

"If challenged, what are we doing just sitting around?" asked Azalea.

"Bluff, claim that some colonel discovered a cave that is heavily mined and booby trapped to explode if anyone tries to enter. He ordered you to stay and keep everyone away until he could return with an ordinance team."

"It's as good a story as any, just hope no one comes along that knows all the colonels."

"No, the story won't stand up to any real scrutiny, but it might work for casual soldiers that wander by. We've got hours to go until dark, and we're going to need a lot of luck to last until then. Then we'll need a lot more luck to sneak through an army in the dark driving without lights over some of the roughest terrain in the world. I'm not going to blow sunshine up anyone's skirt on this; the odds are not good. If this was a poker hand I'd fold, and walk over to the bar for a drink. But it's all I've got to offer folks. As Bill Mauldin put it in one of his immortal Willie and Joe cartoons in WW 2, if you know a better fox hole, climb in it."

Apparently no one did know a better foxhole so they all went to work on the plan James had laid out. They stripped both Taliban soldiers, living and dead. Nura washed out the worst of the blood stains and spread the uniform out in the hot sun where it dried in minutes. Azalea enjoyed putting the makeup on Darryl, considerably more than the partially successful efforts to disguise her very feminine figure. They both covered their faces from the nose down to hide the absence of the ubiquitous beard worn by the Taliban. They then took their positions trying to look like the universal image of bored soldiers standing guard over some god forsaken spot that in their mind needs no more protection that their ugly great aunt Tillie's virtue.

Covert Operations Base, Near Afghan Border

Tues., June, 26 1:00 PM (Local), Tues., June 26 08:30:00 (Zulu)

"Listen Karl, if anyone ever finds out I'm laying on ops because you read a children's story on the internet that says your girlfriend's friend got it first hand from a wolf... I'll be lucky to keep my pension."

"But Dave, if you don't believe the wolf, what are we doing here. That's how we know about this whole damn thing to begin with."

"I know, I know, don't remind me. OK, I'm in. But listen carefully. I'll present this information in my own way. You will keep your fucking mouth shut or I'll call this whole thing off. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly, it's your show."

The Seal Team, the air crew and the ground crew for the Pave Low arrived and took a seat in the conference room and waited with professional detachment to find out the reason for the unscheduled meeting.

Dave stood up and started without preamble.

"We have just received new intel from a source with inside connections and a very high reliability score. The intel is that tomorrow night, when we had originally planned the rescue will be too late. The prisoners will be dead or removed. If we could and decide to run the mission tonight, as early as possible, we have a chance although it will still be tight. No other details."

The Seal Team leader spoke first. "Dave, your gut feeling; how good is this source?"

"Good enough that we wouldn't be here at all without it."

"Well, I'd rather go when we can do some good than waste the effort. We're ready to go if our rides ready."

Dave turned to the Pave Low crew "It's up to you guys. Be honest, I don't really want to be stranded in Afghanistan. If this rushes you to get ready, say so."

They huddled briefly. The pilot answered for them all.

"I don't see any show stoppers. We have a few items stripped for maintenance but barring the unforeseen they should be back up. We'll give a final Go/No Go at 13:00:00 Zulu."

The Cave, Afghanistan

Tues., June, 26 4:30 PM (Local), Tues., June 26 12:00:00 (Zulu)

It actually seemed to be working. Other than occasion glances they seemed to draw no particular attention and the one vehicle that seemed to be heading for them veered off in response to an officious gesture by Darryl. As the afternoon was drawing to a close they actually were beginning to believe that this part of the challenge was behind them.

Then they noticed two trucks coming across the valley in front of them. They were still a good way off but what was unnerving is that they were following no established vehicle path, and making a straight line right at them. Darryl kept hoping they would turn away but his gut told him this wasn't going to happen. His gut was right. The two vehicles, a machine gun armed truck and an open military Land Rover pulled up directly in front of them. No challenge was made but the machine gun was off safety and definitely pointed at them, if casually. A neatly dressed officer got out of the Rover and strode over.

"What are you men doing here with this vehicle?" he demanded.

"We were ordered to keep people away from this cave by our colonel; it's mined and dangerous until an ordinance team gets here," Azalea responded in a clear and respectable baritone.

The officer seemed more amused than angry. He made a gesture and his men quickly disarmed Darryl and Azalea. "I'm afraid not," he said, "according to the number on this vehicle, I am your colonel and I know everyone in my command."

He stepped forward and took off her head gear. Her beautiful long hair tumbled out and her lovely features were revealed. "And I am quite sure that no one in my command is nearly as beautiful as the sister of Kabir Durrani, for I am in the presence of the lovely Azalea am I not?"

Azalea merely nodded in acknowledgement. The officer then turned to Darryl and removed his head gear unveiling pale skin and blonde hair. The officer chuckled.

Switching easily to near perfect English, the officer continued. "This then must be the late Darryl Sanders, Pulitzer prize winning photojournalist, recently deceased in a helicopter crash. I am glad that as your countryman Mr. Twain put it, the reports of your death are exaggerated. Well come along, I can hardly wait to see who we may find in the cave. Possibly the late Mr. McNichols whose mortal remains have proved so elusive and Cheryl Woodson, reportedly on the same flight as you, so she probably is no more dead than yourself. Ah, but forgive me, in my excitement, I have forgotten my manners. Allow me to introduce myself, I am Colonel Khalifa, it is my honor to command the troops in this area. "

"Isn't Khalifa a name more common in Saudi Arabia? Azalea asked, "And I thought Taliban leaders were all Mullahs."

"Yes, I am from Saudi Arabia as you have so cleverly observed, and I look out for some of the more mundane secular activities that are required and let the Mullahs deal with the sacred. Now if you will come with me, I would like to reunite you with whoever is still inside."

Colonel Khalifa had his prisoners precede him into the cave to ensure there would be no hostile greeting. Inside he immediately recognized James and Cheryl as the other missing Photojournalists. He was introduced to Nura as an orphan that they had found abandoned and starving and who they had brought along until they could deliver her to proper authorities.

He then turned his attention to the Taliban soldier who lay trussed up like a Thanksgiving Turkey dressed only in a loincloth.

"How did this happen soldier?"

"The prisoners jumped me."

"Jumped you? Were you armed?"

"Yes sir, an AK47."

"Were the prisoners armed?"

"No Sir, they were not"

"And where was your comrade?"

"He was interrogating one of the prisoners in another chamber."

"Which prisoner?"

"The woman called Azalea."

"And where is he now?"

"I'm not sure, Colonel, I never saw him leave the chamber."

The colonel turned to Azalea. "Miss Durrani, what was the nature of the interrogation?"

"Colonel Khalifa, you can call it whatever you like but it was rape pure and simple. He called me a whore, a foreigner's harlot and took me into that chamber with every intention of raping me. I only defended my honor and myself."

"Are You?"

"Am I what?"

"Are you a whore or a harlot?"

"Colonel Khalifa, I have been with no man and I will kill the man who claims otherwise."

"I accept your word for it, so this man was an animal to act as he did and you had every right to defend yourself, and your honor."

The officer walked into the other chamber. When he returned a few minutes later he looked at Azalea with a certain new respect.

"Where did you get the weapon to do this with?"

"My brother always had me carry a concealed dagger for just this type of occasion."

"He did not search you?"

"No."

"Then he was a fool as well as an animal. I find no fault with your actions. You defended your honor as I would hope my own daughter would defend hers. However you are now under my protection and I cannot have my prisoners walking around armed. I suspect that the dagger is in a location that you do want my men to search. Please step behind the screen and remove the weapon and surrender it to me."

Azalea did as he directed and handed the knife to him. He took it and put it in his pocket.

"I'm not one to collect souvenirs but I think I will keep this as a memento of the most beautiful and spirited prisoner I have ever had in custody."

He then turned to his men. "I'm going to keep four of you here with me, you other two I am sending back with a report. Go drag the body of that useless animal out of the rear chamber and bury him in an unmarked grave. He has dishonored himself, his family and our cause and deserves no more than to simply disappear. Our other comrade will need to be turned over to the Red Crescent for evacuation home. His war is over. Just as well because I wouldn't trust him to stand guard over the latrines. Those that are returning will watch the prisoners for a few minutes I wish to discuss a few matters of a confidential nature with the others outside."

When Colonel Khalifa returned he brought two men inside with him having left the other two on guard outside. He addressed the prisoners.

"I won't detain you here much longer. I have forwarded an order for more suitable transportation including an ambulance for the wounded. They should arrive just after nightfall. That also provides better security from our point of view. I'm not sure of your final destination but I'm sure it will be an improvement over this cave. For now just relax, your ordeal is almost over."

Covert Operations Base, Near Afghan Border

Tues., June, 26 5:30 PM (Local), Tues., June 26 13:00:00 (Zulu)

The entire rescue team returned to the conference room for the 13:00 Go/No Go conference. Worthy called it to order and immediately turned the meeting over to the Air Force Pave Low crew. Obviously, the condition of their craft determined whether or not there would be a mission tonight. The pilot deferred to the crew chief.

"I'm happy to report the bird is 100% ready to fly, no discrepancies, no deferred maintenance. Gentlemen, she's never been in better shape so we're good."

Thank you, how about flight ops?"

"Weather looks good, moon is waxing gibbous at 73%, and it will be up during the entire op. Since we're so near the border they won't clear us to take off before the end of civil twilight. That's 15:00 Z. Flight time to the cave is 1 hour 40 minutes putting us on the ground at 16:40 Zulu."

"Lieutenant, what's the status on the SEAL team?"

"Good to go on your command, sir."

"As always, thank you. And thank you all for the hard work. I don't see any good reason not to go tonight. Everybody get some chow and get ready. Everybody assembles at the hard stand at 14:30 Zulu.

The Cave, Afghanistan

Tues., June, 26 6:30 PM (Local), Tues., June 26 14:00:00 (Zulu)

Darryl sat close to Azalea. "What do you think about this Colonel Khalifa, do you trust him?"

"Does it matter? He has us completely under his control. But no, I wouldn't trust him as far as I could pick him up and toss him. He's like those salesmen that come on television late at night in your country. All smiles and lies."

Cheryl came over and sat down with them. "James would like a few minutes with you in private, Darryl."

Darryl nodded and walked over to the bedside of the man he now knew to be his father. He figured he better have some fun with it while he could.

"Hi dad, you wanted to see me?"

"Actually Darryl, you would be surprised how much I really like the sound of that. I hope we are both around long enough to build a bit of a new relationship. I'm not sure that's going to happen which is one reason I wanted to talk to you. Colonel 'Smiling Jack' there is just a little too anxious to play mister nice guy and I'm not buying his act. I hope I'm wrong but I think we're never going home if it's up to him."

"Yeah, I've been thinking the same thing. If we were going to be prisoners I think we would have been sent back with the first group. He's probably waiting on an OK to dispose of us."

"If it happens, you take care of Azalea and Nura, I'll be with Cheryl, OK. Make it as easy for them as you can."

"OK dad, I understand. Then we maybe ought to say our goodbyes now?"

"Yeah son, I think so. I'm not one for big eloquent good byes but I'll tell you one thing. I always thought of you and treated you like my son even when I didn't know you were. I don't think I would have treated you any different if I had known, except that we would have had more time together. You've never given me any reason to be anything but proud of you; and never more than now. I'm sorry I got you into this mess, but I love you."

"I'm lucky in that I had two great dads, three counting grandpa Kedrick, and I loved all three of you. But you were always my role model. The one I wanted to grow up and emulate. You didn't get me into a damn thing. I'm here because I wanted to be here. You told me the odds and I accepted them. I have no regrets about that. If our luck has run out, at least we're not alone. I love you as a father and I love you as the friend you were before."

Those few words were as much an emotional goodbye as they could handle so they gave each other a brief hug and parted. Most women looking on would have thought it very little between a father and a son who thought they might never see each other again. They would have been mistaken. While slight in volume, there was great depth of emotion and feeling unspoken, but understood between the two men. Men rely far less on words as proof of love than physical presence, just being there. This is why men are often impatient with the need of women to constantly hear the words 'I Love You' to which they are inclined to respond 'I'm Still Here Aren't I". Neither really understands the weight the other puts on their proof of love. For James and Darryl, the fact that neither regretted having come on this adventure together even if in the end, the outcome cost them their lives was an expression of love and connection so deep that mere words lost all meaning.

So the two little groups merged into overlapping satellite orbits which to an outside observed took on many of the attributes of an extended family with Nura the child, Azalea and Darryl the parents and Cheryl and James the grandparents. And as a family they waited on events.

Colonel Khalifa made one last attempt to break up their united front. He summoned Azalea over for a private conversation.

"I trust you have found no fault in my treatment of you or the other prisoners?"

"No Colonel, your behavior has been proper; we all appreciate your adherence to international law and conventions on the treatment of prisoners."

"My behavior is a result of my personal code of honor, not western law. Regrettably you soon will leave my command and come under the control of others whose treatment will likely be much harsher. I regret this but in the case of the Americans it is completely out of my hands and I can do nothing to help them."

You, however, do not have to share their fate. In fact, say the word Azalea, and you don't even have to be a prisoner."

"And what would I have to do to win my freedom Colonel?"

"Not so much really. I have many responsibilities and need to have a place to get away on occasion. You would just be expected to maintain a nice residence at my expense and receive me as a welcome visitor on occasion should I call on you."

"You are asking me to be your mistress?"

"The difference between two close friends exchanging gifts and favors and a mistress is a state of mind. I would prefer to think of you as a friend."

"I prefer to choose my own friends, Colonel, and my own house guests."

"No doubt, Miss Durrani, but things are changing. The Taliban are going to control this country in a matter of months. Your becoming my friend could be of great service to your brother too. I could help him secure favorable contracts under the new regime."

"Kabil Durrani does not advance his business by prostituting his sister. You have insulted me enough Colonel, I would like to return to those foreigners who at least have never asked me to be their whore."

"Very well, Azalea Durrani, return to your infidel friends. Before this day is over you may regret this decision and if so, I hope it will not be too late. Your only chance will be to throw yourself at my feet and beg and then perhaps I will reconsider."

He threw his cigarette on the ground at her feet, ground it viciously into the ground and stalked away with his back to her.

Tues., June 26 16:00:00 (Zulu)

The Lake House

Tues., June, 26 12:00 PM (Local), Tues., June 26 16:00:00 (Zulu)

Courtney, Jaclyn, Robyn and Gaho had decided to have an early lunch on the patio to enjoy the nice June weather and the view of the lake. The conversation was light as they all deliberately avoided talking about what was really on all their minds. Suddenly Courtney fell silent and she actually shuddered as though she were having a chill.

"Courtney. What's wrong?" Jaclyn asked. "Are you taking ill, catching the flu?'

"No, that's not it," said Gaho, "I feel it too. Like a chill."

"Oh god yes, it's like it comes from inside a mausoleum, it's a dark chill that goes through your very soul. It frightens me Gaho, what does it mean?"

Gaho took the trembling young woman in her arms and hugged her to her ample bosom. "It's the crises; death is very, very close. There is nothing more we can do to help. We must just wait."

In the distance they heard the plaintive howl of a solitary wolf.

MH-53J Pave Low Helicopter

Tues., June, 26 8:30 PM (Local), Tues., June 26 16:00:00 (Zulu)

Karl sat in the fold down seat nervously checking his equipment for yet another unnecessary time. He looked up in time to see Dave Worthy returning from the cockpit. Karl flagged him down.

"How's it looking?"

"Almost too perfect. As far as we can tell, nobody has noticed us. Certainly no radar has painted us. We're exactly on our timeline."

"How long?"

Dave checked his watch, "Just about 40 minutes to arrive and 5 more minutes to check the area out. So if our friends can just stay out of trouble for forty five more minutes the cavalry is on its way."

The Cave, Afghanistan

Tues., June, 26 8:30 PM (Local), Tues., June 26 16:00:00 (Zulu)

Shortly after dark on of the soldiers from outside came in the cave and whispered a report to Colonel Khalifa, who nodded.

"Your attention please, your transportation has arrived. Please gather up your immediate personal effects. Leave your luggage stacked by the door and we will collect it for you. Take only small items of immediate need with you. Azalea, could you ask the girl to leave her oud? We'll bring it along and we'll be careful with it."

"Colonel, unless there is some crucial reason for her leaving it behind, I urgently request you let her keep it. She has lost everything, including her family and village. It the only part of her old life she has left."

"Oh very well, she may keep it with her. Alright everyone, lets go, it's getting late."

He led the little party out of the cave into a shallow ravine. They had only gone about 40 yards when the colonel called a halt. The two soldiers carrying James's litter set it down and stepped back away from the prisoners. Darryl glanced around and he saw no new vehicles, just the two that came with the Colonel. He didn't bother to ask where the ambulance was because he already knew the answer. Instead one of the truck's headlights came on and blinded them. Darryl shielded his eyes and he could also see where the headlights were illuminating a pile of earth where a pit had been dug. It looked about the right size for six bodies counting the one that was already laying there. It was pretty obvious where the other five were coming from. From the little gasps or muttered curses it was apparent that everyone else had recognized that there was going to be no ride off to a prison camp, only oblivion.

Colonel Khalifa's disembodied voice came from somewhere behind the lights.

"I'm sorry but I guess it is obvious that I was not entirely honest with you about your ultimate fate. I regret the necessity of it but Taliban Headquarters are under terrific international pressure about your deaths now, and they would probably release you in an effort to win good will if I were to turn you in to them... This however would be a huge setback to the group I represent whose goals is to make sure that there is never any peace between the Islamic nations and the west. We went to a lot of trouble to kill you in the first place to generate tension between the Taliban and the United States. The best way to maintain that tension is for you to stay dead."

"Then let Azalea and Nura go, they're not part of your vendetta," demanded Darryl.

"Ah, I wish I could spare the lovely lady and the innocent child but it's about witnesses you see, I can't afford witnesses. But I'm not a cruel man, I promise to make this very quick and painless. And I'll grant you a few minutes to say your farewells and compose yourselves. It's not personal you see, its all politics and we're all caught in the middle including me."

"Oh fuck you!" yelled James, "You may be caught in the middle, but we're the ones being shot. It is personal, you son of a bitch. It's cold blooded murder. So you do what you have to do but don't expect us to thank you for it."

"I'm sorry you think so badly of me Mr. James, however you still have a few minutes to say good bye, or you can waste it cursing me. It will make little difference in the end."

Azalea kneeled down and hugged Nura, whispering in her ear. The little girl had no illusions about what was happening; she'd been around war and killing all her life and recognized the situation for what it was. As Azalea stood up Darryl watched the girl step a few paces to the side and lay her beloved instrument on the ground out of harm's way before returning to grab onto Azalea's hand.

Azalea turned to Darryl her hand on his cheek, a single tear formed in each eye.

"Darryl, you are the only man I have ever loved. You are the only man I wanted to give myself to. I only regret that we met at a time that you belonged to another. What a love it could have been. Perhaps a kiss now would be permitted?

"Oh Azalea, you are the most magnificent woman I have ever known. Your beauty, your intelligence and now your courage have won a place in my heart. Azalea, I love you. Please believe me that I will love you for the rest of my life, however long that is. I truly love you now and forever I very much want to kiss you."

They leaned in for their first real kiss, in the glaring light of the truck headlights, with the sting of death just moments away. They both had meant for it to be warm and tender, and it was. But the feelings that flowed through that kiss transported them completely away from their lethal present to a world of their own making. It wasn't just sexual attraction although that was certainly there but there was far more. It was as though two individuals, already strong and accomplished had found all the components necessary to make them absolutely complete and balanced. If only there had been time, if only there had been, but the Colonels voice brought their immediate situation crashing in on them.

"I'm sorry, that's all the time I can allow. My soldiers are skilled marksmen and their orders are precise. You will never feel a thing. Goodbye, may Allah have mercy on you."

"Darryl took Azalea's hand, he felt her grab on tightly, then just the slightest tremble. It didn't seem quite real somehow. It was like he was in a Hollywood production waiting for the director to call 'cut'. But he knew there would be no call.

Or the cavalry coming over the hill... not that either. Actually, unknown to him, a highly trained and deadly rescue team was much closer that he would have imagined. Only 35 minutes away, in fact. But they might as well have been back at the Lake House, for all the difference it was going to make. They didn't have 35 minutes.

The last thing his eyes would see would be these glaring headlights. No damn it. He turned his head and looked at Azalea instead. No, that was no good; he might see her being shot. Instead he just closed his eyes and pictured her face. He waited for the sound, the shock, the pain, waited, for total oblivion. He wondered if he would even hear any shots or feel anything at all. He guessed it depended on the order of things, whether he was first or last. Funny what the mind wanders onto, shouldn't he be thinking more profound thoughts.

And suddenly, like an aircraft punching out of turbulent clouds into the clear still blue sky above, time slowed down and he felt at peace. He was eight years old on the dock, and his cheek still burned from his first kiss. He heard his song for the first time. He was with James at the Cabin. And he was here holding Azalea's hand. And he wasn't afraid. Just anxious, that Azalea and Nura didn't suffer.

He heard the Colonel give an order followed by the sounds of soldiers shuffling and metallic noises, clips being locked in, safety's coming off. Oh God, here it comes. Silence now. He whispered, "Courtney I love you, Azalea, I love you."

He heard the Colonel give another command.

KABANG... KABANG.KABANGBANG... KABANG... 

The Time was: Tues., June 26 16:10:00 (Zulu)

There is an immeasurable distance between late and too late."

Og Mandino



-------

Chapter 17: Blind Man's Bluff


Nothing in life is so exhilarating as to be shot at without result.

Winston Churchill

The Lake House
Tues., June, 26 12:10 PM (Local), Tues., June 26 16:10:00 (Zulu)

Courtney had tried to continue the luncheon with her friends, but the darkness seemed so near that she found it very difficult to follow the conversation. She picked at the food and made single syllable comments now and then, just to show that, as much as possible, she was still with them. A black fog kept trying to invade her consciousness, and she resisted as best she could. Gaho had moved her chair very close and was holding Courtney's hand, as she sensed some of the same closeness of death.

Suddenly the blackness swept over her and she was overwhelmed. She stood straight and rigid, her mouth drawn into a grimace, her eyes wildly racing back and forth but seeing nothing. After a quick breath, she let out a long mournful moan. "Nnnnoooooooooooooooo..." It started quietly and got louder until it cut off just as abruptly as it had started. Gripping the table with one hand, she retched violently and convulsed, her skin turned a pasty white, and then she collapsed like a marionette with the strings suddenly cut. Had Gaho not been so close, to support her, she would have crumpled to the floor. Instead she fell into the arms of the older woman.

Courtney's face twisted in agony and she cried out "No... ! No! Please God No!"... She started to sob uncontrollably, and slid to her knees. Her hands grasped at Gaho's clothing. Occasionally between the sobs, she weakly pleaded again, "No, no, please no..." Finally she collapsed completely, apparently into unconsciousness. Jaclyn and Robyn rushed to their friend's side and looked to Gaho for guidance.

"There is nothing any of us can do now to help her or to help Darryl," Gaho said, gently stroking Courtney's hair as she held her. "Only a miracle could save him now that death has come. But when she comes to, she will need the help of her friends to deal with the loss."

-------

The Cave, Afghanistan
Tues., June, 26 8:40 PM (Local), Tues., June 26 16:10:00 (Zulu)
Kabang... Kabangbang... 

The shots continued, so loud that Darryl felt each one as though it were in his head... but the searing pain, and the blackness of eternity did not come.

Then he heard voices, loud voices; Azalea shouted in English, "GET DOWN, GET DOWN!!!"

His instincts took over. He pushed Azalea and Nura off their feet and fell on top of them. His first confused thought was, "This is an execution; we're not supposed to duck!"

The firing stopped abruptly, and Darryl heard men scrambling down the hillside behind them, as well as the sound of a truck engine.

A voice shouted again, and Azalea called out, apparently in translation, "It's over, we can get up. These are friends."

Darryl raised his head and looked around. His arms and legs were so shaky they would hardly hold him, but he rose to his knees, helping Azalea and Nura up. Cheryl lay weeping over James' litter, but they were both alive, although shaken. Squinting into the lights, he saw that Colonel Khalifa and the firing squad lay dead where they stood. The truck headlights they had used to make the prisoners such perfect targets had served to make them sitting ducks as well. The reaction finally hit him... he turned to one side and fell to his hands and knees, violently retching up yellow bile as his body protested the obscene level of tension it had just absorbed. After emptying his stomach of whatever it contained, he struggled to his feet taking Azalea's hand in his again.

Their rescuers came into view, recognizable as Mujahadeen veterans of the type that were springing up in groups to oppose the Taliban, as the central government collapsed. There were seven of them all together and to his surprise, Darryl recognized three. One had minutes before been standing with the firing squad as the colonel's trusted aide. His presence now indicated that the Taliban had been infiltrated by a least one spy. The second man he knew as Ayman, the trusted associate of Kabir Durrani, who had originally hidden them in this cave; one of the few people who would have known their exact location. The third was the apparent commander, Fahez Raza, Nura's father, who Darryl remembered had been a high ranking Mujahadeen officer, and who was now carrying out a personal vendetta against the Taliban for the murder of his brothers and only sister. Nura ran to her father and they enjoyed a brief but happy reunion before he proudly introduced her to the other men.

Azalea leaned over to Darryl to explain. "He's very proud; he's telling them how she single-handedly disabled an armed Taliban guard and saved all our lives."

"It's no more than the truth, she really is a remarkable young girl in so many ways."

"Of course she is, but remember, this is a warrior culture, and nothing is more valued than courage in the face of danger and loyalty to your comrades."

The brief personal moment over, Fahez Raza and Ayman hurried over to Darryl and Azalea. Two of his men carried James' litter closer so that he and Cheryl could hear also. The conference was between Darryl and Raza as acting heads of their respective parties, although Azalea had to translate every word.

"Mr. Raza?"

"Colonel Raza of the Provisional Resistance Forces will do, Mr. Sanders."

"Colonel Raza, thank you for saving us. We owe you our lives."

"You are welcome, although your safety is far from assured. I must apologize for the rather dramatic timing of the rescue, but my force is small, and I knew that at the moment of execution, all attention would be focused on you, giving us the perfect opportunity."

"I can assure you that my attention was completely focused, Colonel."

Raza laughed and clapped Darryl on the back. "No doubt, no doubt. I regret that we have little time to talk, but Colonel Khalifa will be soon missed. We must all be gone before then. I will try to explain very briefly how we happen to be here, and what we will do next. I will not have time to answer all of your questions so I am going to ask your indulgence. Some of the gaps you will have to fill in for yourself. First, the man really responsible for your rescue is Ayman, who will describe his own actions."

"After I left you at the cave, I went directly to Kabul to report to Kabir." explained Ayman. "Fortunately, I spotted the Taliban intelligence agents that had him completely sealed off. I wasn't known to them, but there was no way I could reach or communicate with Kabir. I realized that you would be trapped, so I came back to the cave with the idea of attempting to get you over the border on my own."

"You were under no obligation to rescue us. Your job just was to get us to the cave, and you had done that. What made you come back?" asked Darryl.

"I work for Kabir, and I know that he had obligated himself to get you to safety. Since I was the only one of his people still free to act, the loyal thing to do was to fulfill his obligation. But by the time I returned, I found the whole area crawling with Taliban forces under the command of Colonel Khalifa. They were too much for me, so I left to seek help. I remembered Nura's father saying that he was going to organize a force to raid the Taliban, so I went to find him."

"When he found me, I was very interested in his report," explained Raza who took over the conference again. "Besides the fact that my own daughter was trapped, Colonel Khalifa is the very man responsible for the deaths in my family, and the man I have sworn a sacred oath under Pashtunwali to personally slay. I knew he was back in Afghanistan and had been trying to pin point his location. Then Ayman handed him to me, and on ground I know very well. We got in the area and made contact with a member of his staff who had served under me in the Mujahadeen intelligence service. Through him we learned that Khalifa was a member of the Saudi Arabian faction that had conspired to assassinate American journalists. One reason he was operating in this area was because of rumors that three American journalists, you three, had survived and were hiding somewhere nearby. His mission was to insure that you disappeared forever.

Since we controlled one of his key advisors, we figured we could convince him that the best course of action was a nighttime execution with a small squad, leaving the fewest witnesses. We even picked the spot for him, and prepared the ambush position on the hillside behind. We were ready if the cave was found accidentally, and if not we were going to tip him off tomorrow anyway. Those two fools this morning almost ruined everything. We were about to rush in and rescue you, when we saw Cheryl come out to do recon and figured you had contained the situation. I did not know that it was my own little Nura that was the hero. We watched you and Azalea play Taliban, and figured you would make a break for it after nightfall. I could have just sent Ayman in as a driver, and you might have made it. But without a diversion it is doubtful, and Khalifa would then escape. So instead, I decided to stay with the original plan, and move it up one day. Our man tipped off Khalifa, and fortunately he behaved exactly as predicted, setting himself and his men up directly in our ambush."

"And if he hadn't behaved exactly as predicted?" asked Darryl rather coolly.

Raza shrugged. "We wouldn't be having this conversation in that event. Your bones would have joined those of countless other foreigners littering the wastelands of Afghanistan. And may I remind you, I would have lost my daughter. Tragedy, as you know it, Mr. Sanders, has lost all meaning here after two decades of war."

"You're right; I apologize if I implied any criticism. Your plan worked flawlessly, and I have every reason to be grateful."

"No offense taken, Mr. Sanders; on a successful fishing trip, the fisherman is likely to be much happier than the bait."

Darryl noticed that Raza's men had already gotten into the military rover and a Taliban truck and were obviously awaiting their commander. They had loaded James into the back of what had been their truck; an all black vehicle similar to the Taliban but without markings of any kind.

Raza glanced at his watch meaningfully. "It's time to go. Here's what's going to happen now. We're going to drive off in the direction of the main Taliban camp. There is a good chance we will be mistaken for the colonel. You will quickly grab anything essential from the cave, and get out of here. Ayman will drive. No one knows this terrain better. You are to drive away from the cave, far enough to have good cover in case someone comes here to investigate. In about 15 minutes we are going to attack and blow up the Taliban ammunition and fuel dumps. When that happens, the sky will light up and the ground will shake. Wait a few minutes, and every Taliban for miles around will come rushing back to the main camp, where we will be causing as much trouble as possible. Using this as a diversion, Ayman will drive like a madman in the opposite direction, while you try to hold on for your lives. That's the best chance I can give you. Good luck!"

"And good luck to you, Colonel Raza..." but Darryl found he was talking to the empty space where the veteran warrior had stood. He was already climbing into the Rover which drove off without so much as a wave.

Before boarding the truck, Azalea walked a few paces to stand over the body of Colonel Khalifa. Staring down at his dead face, she muttered, "I told you I would never come to you, even to save my life. Two men have ever treated me like a whore, and you both are lying here dead."

Bending down, she retrieved her knife. When she rose, she contemplated him for a moment, before she kicked his lifeless body and watched the dust fly, "See the dust, soon that's all you will be."

She spit on him; then turned her back and rejoined her comrades, to speed away into the darkness.

-------

MH-53J Pave Low Helicopter
Tues., June, 26 9:00 PM (Local), Tues., June 26 16:30:00 (Zulu)

"OK Gentlemen," shouted Dave Worthy, loud enough to be heard in the helicopter compartment "We'll be on the ground in ten minutes, so... what the fuck was that?"

A thunder like noise accompanied by some bright flashes coming through from the flight deck could have been a thunderstorm if that hadn't been a meteorological impossibility.

The pilot stuck his head through the flight deck door. "Worthy, Lt. Barber, you need to see this."

The two of them unstrapped and were soon looking out the front of the big helicopter at an extraordinary sight. To the right was a huge fire which at almost regular intervals spit huge fireballs into the sky. On the left, it was the Fourth of July in trumps, as several spots were emitting skyrockets and explosions of impressive fury. As they watched, another spot lit up and started its own light show.

Worthy turned to the SEAL Commander, "Sam, is that what I think it is?"

"If you think it's the supply officer having a really bad day, I think you're right. That's a fuel dump on the right, a fairly big one, or at least it was. On the left, those are ammo bunkers going up. The fact that they are going up one at a time means that this is no accident; there is a raid going on."

He then turned to the pilot. "Where is that exactly?"

"That's the main Taliban camp seven klicks beyond our cave. It's the place that was our most likely source of serious opposition."

"OK, Lt. Smythe, it's your bird, and Lt. Barber, you're in command on the ground, so I'm asking each of you: how does this development affect you?"

"Without hesitation the SEAL responded. "I'd say we owe someone a thank you for one hell of a fine diversion. Suits me fine."

"I'm with the Navy on this one; nothing makes people overlook a fat-assed chopper like all hell breaking lose. I'll just try to stay as much as possible on reverse slopes, where we won't catch reflections from the fireworks."

He nodded to the pilot. "OK, Lt. It's your show until we're on the ground. What's the plan now?"

"Minor changes due to the light show. I'll use the terrain avoidance and terrain following radar to put this thing on the deck. It's what this bird was built for. We'll make two passes over and one wide sweep around the cave with the forward looking infrared to check for anyone on the ground. If clear we'll set down in that wide ravine just outside the cave. We've got great cover there. Then you guys do your rescue thing and we're on the way back. Better strap in. Terrain avoidance at this altitude can be bumpy."

They both slipped their harnesses back on as the Pave Low, already flying near the ground, dipped even lower. Everyone started feeling the effects of the terrain following radar tracing the contours of the rugged Afghan landscape. The gunners deployed the fuselage guns; a 7.62 mm minigun on the starboard side, and an older but still powerful .50 caliber machine gun on the port. The huge black helicopter was covering the remaining distance to the cave very quickly.

-------

Afghanistan, near the Cave
Tues., June, 26 9:00 PM (Local), Tues., June 26 16:30:00 (Zulu)

The little refugee band had parked their truck in a shallow gulley about one and a half kilometers from the cave. Those who could stand got out and gathered together around the rear, as though they needed the physical contact to prove to themselves that they had survived their almost certain death. For a while nothing was said, Cheryl wept quietly. Darryl and Azalea held each other very tightly, as though they might lose each other if they let go. Azalea pushed Darryl away just enough to look into his eyes. There were tears in hers.

"The things I said to you back there, you must promise to forget," she whispered. "I would not have spoken them, if I hadn't thought we were about to die."

"Are you saying that you didn't mean them, that you don't love me?"

Azalea looked down as though she could not face him. "No I spoke the truth, but I spoke of feelings to which I have no right."

Moving his hand under her chin, Darryl lifted her face back up to face him. "Your feelings are your feelings; you have every right to say whatever your heart tells you. You don't need permission."

"But you belong to another."

"I belonged to another, but she sent me away. Now I'm not sure what I feel. I believe I still love her, but I know I love you too. My last thoughts as I waited for the bullets were of both you and her. It's something I will have to sort out in my own mind; but this is not the time or place. Let's at least be honest. If what you said was what you truly feel, then I accept it, with thanks. What I said to you is what I feel; I wouldn't change or take back a word of it, and I ask you to accept it also."

She smiled at him. "I accept your feelings and I accept my feelings too. We will need to talk about this when we get out of here. Until then, is another kiss permitted?"

Darryl gently put his arms around her and brought his lips to hers. The kiss started warm and tender, but as the frustrations and pain and fears of the night came out, it became more intense, hungrier, more urgent. Then the questions and hopes for the future made it passionate. And the passion scared them both so they parted slightly and looked into each other's eyes. They each found love and many unanswered questions. Focusing back on the rest of the group, they realized that everyone was smiling at them, even little Nura. Azalea, modest by culture and shy by nature, blushed, but did not move from Darryl's arms.

"I'm afraid I have been affected by our extraordinary experience," said Azalea, "Not many people have seen death as close as we did tonight. I doubt that any of us are the same person now that we were yesterday. We've changed in ways that we may not even realize yet."

Cheryl spoke up. "I'm not sure if it changed me in a profound way. It certainly was an intense experience. But my reaction was that I was completely and utterly terrified. When the first gun went off, I emptied my bladder and my bowels. And I'm not ashamed to admit it. I would have had to change my underwear, if I wore any."

"It's not that uncommon a reaction," said James. "It's an extreme form of the body's flight or fight response to an emergency situation. Honey, it's completely involuntary, and it does not indicate cowardice. It's actually the body's way of getting rid of nonessential cargo in an emergency."

"But it did change me in one way," continued Cheryl, "I realize I do not want to die in some God forsaken corner of the world in the name of my career. It may be cowardice, but I'm through with this type of assignment. You guys can be heroes if you want, but I plan to die in bed surrounded by a herd of grandchildren."

"Choosing what you are willing to die for is not cowardice." James spoke in a quiet subdued tone, not like his usual speaking style at all. "I've lived my whole life as a great adventurer, taking risks, telling everyone, including myself, that I knew the odds and embraced them. But somehow deep inside I had never really lost the young man's feeling of invulnerability. The belief that "it" really can't happen to you that has allowed countless generations of soldiers to fight wars with seeming fearlessness. Even the convoy ambush shook that confidence, but didn't destroy it; after all, I survived. The first shot, that seemed to come from that firing squad killed my feeling of invulnerability forever. I realize I have been shooting dice with death for far too long, and the odds are that sooner or later, I'm going to lose. And worst of all, I realize now that I am afraid of death. I have things I want to live for. So much for the myth of James McNichol, the fearless adventurer."

"Some of us prefer the man to the myth anyway," said Cheryl.

James reached out and took her hand. "That's a good thing because I've realized that you are one of the things I want to live for. Providing we ever get out of here; Cheryl Woodson, will you go with me to the nearest justice of the peace and marry me? I'm sorry I've put this off for so long."

The little group became silent, and everyone stared. Seeing the Dallas Cow Boy Cheerleaders peddle by on tricycles would have been no more surprising to those who knew James McNichol, than hearing him propose marriage, cold sober, and in public.

Even Cheryl was briefly speechless, but she wouldn't have been Cheryl Woodson if she hadn't been able to recover and rise to the occasion. "Mr. McNichol," she replied coolly, "I know we're operating far from civilization, but do you really think that such an off-hand proposal delivered to a lady squatting on a rock in this god forsaken hole, and shaking like a leaf because someone just tried to blow her brains out, is even close to appropriate? And did you really think I'd be feeling all girly and romantic under these circumstances, so I could be swept off my feet by some shot-up old has-been like you?"

James just flashed his boyish grin at her. "Yeah, pretty much."

Cheryl squealed like a schoolgirl and threw her arms around his neck. "You're damn right, and I accept, and I have witnesses, so don't even think about trying to get out of this promise."

James kissed her and laughed. "I not worried about ever wanting to get out of this promise, but there is still the matter of getting out of this country."

Cheryl snorted dismissively. "If all it takes for me to marry you is to get us out of here, then no fucking Taliban better get in my way."

Despite the generally somber mood, everyone had to laugh at Cheryl's irrepressible spirit. James turned more serious and looked towards his son. "Darryl, what are you thinking after all this?"

"Differently. It did make me conscious of my mortality, the same as you. But for you, that seems to have simplified things by focusing you on life's essential elements, such as family and relationships."

"Hmm," said James, "Well put."

"For me it made my life more complicated, because it made me realize that I have to take control of my life by making decisions about the things that affect me, not just letting events carry me along. And some of those decisions have no choices that don't hurt someone."

"It's called growing up, son, and it doesn't stop, and it doesn't get easier." James' voice betrayed a surprisingly tender side. "Welcome to the world of adults. You'll spend the rest of your life wondering when you will finally understand it all, but you never will. Growing up and acquiring wisdom and judgment is always a direction in which to travel, not a destination. By definition, anyone who believes that he possesses perfect wisdom, isn't wise at all; anyone who believes that his judgment is infallible, is mistaken. Just make the best decisions you can, and don't spend the rest of your life second guessing yourself."

"What about you, Azalea?" James asked.

"I feel a great sadness and loneliness," she replied. "I realize that I must leave Afghanistan, probably forever. It is no longer a place I can call home. I can never forgive or forget what has happened here. So I must start a new life."

"Perhaps things will get better in time," Darryl said. "You may heal and be able to forget what was done to you here."

"You don't understand. In time I'm sure I could forget what was done to me. It's Nura I'm thinking about; I will never forget what this country has done to that innocent child."

"My God," cried Cheryl, "it must have been terrible for her. I can't imagine what trauma has been done to her."

"Actually, very little", replied Azalea, "far less than you would expect. And that's what is so very sad. What was happening out there in the glare of the truck headlights fit very well into her view of the world and her expectations of what to expect from life. What she has a very hard time accepting is the world I tell her about where children laugh and play, go to school, sleep in a bed, have plenty to eat and nothing to fear worse than a school yard bully trying to take your lunch money. I wouldn't even think about telling her that these children have their own televisions, their own rooms, swimming pools, shopping malls, telephones... Because then she'd really think I was telling fairy tales.

"But think about what this means. We are in a country which has descended to the point where a beautiful innocent little girl like Nura, whose only crime is that she fills the world with song, believes herselfthat it is somehow normal that someone would stick an AK-47 rifle to the back of her head, blow her brains out, and then claim that he did it in the name of his God Allah to save her country. No! I renounce my country, and my religion, and if necessary, my God, if any of them, for any reason, require the death of that child. There is no political movement, no philosophy, and no religion worth that child's life, because the creation and nurturing of beautiful and talented children is what the world and life is about. She represents the finest creation of the hand of God, not politics and religion, which are the worst creations of the minds of men. So I learned something tonight, and that is that I will fight to my last breath to end any system that feeds on the deaths of innocents. And I will try to heal the damage they do, starting with Nura. I will treat her as if she was my own daughter when we get out of here. I'll support her until her father reclaims her, if he survives this war.

Once again the group was stunned into silence by this usually shy and quiet woman. But the truth and sincerity of it was such that James and Cheryl actually started to applaud, until Daryl reminded them about noise. So the desert returned briefly to silence.

While Azalea whispered to Nura, the rest were looking hopefully in the direction of the main Taliban camp where the raid, if it were going to happen should start about... 

The sky lit up with a huge fireball, followed by a series of lesser blasts, each lighting the sky in turn. Then finally the sound, traveling at a much slower speed, arrived at first as discrete explosions, which soon merged into a general rumbling of the very earth. They were fascinated as the fires and explosions began in earnest, cheering each new explosion like spectators at a sporting event. After a few minutes, Darryl signaled everyone to take their positions in the truck. He turned to Ayman, giving the universal hand gesture for forward. Moments later, they were again holding on for dear life, as Ayman used all of his driving skill and intimate knowledge of the area to put distance between them and the Taliban base. The reinforced suspension was tested to the limits, but the rugged little truck held together. Its human cargo had a harder time, especially James and Darryl, whose wounds were tortured with every bounce and bump. The truck had a bench seat in the cab, so Darryl and Azalea rode with Ayman. James would have to be in the rear lying down in any case, and Cheryl would never leave his side. Little Nura, though usually inseparable from Azalea, in this case, like children everywhere, really wanted to ride in the open. Once they were underway, Darryl asked Azalea to find out where they were going and how Ayman planned to get them out. After an animated discussion with the faithful driver, Azalea leaned over close enough to be heard over the straining engine and the grinding of the frame.

"Right now he's mainly concerned with getting out of this immediate area by following an old river bed, which is relatively smooth and allows him to drive fast."

"This is smooth?"

"Apparently, compared to surrounding areas, it is. We are about equal distance from Kabul and the border. Ayman thinks that there are too many Taliban around Kabul to make that a good option, even though the city itself is still in government hands. He thinks we will have a better chance if we go the other way deeper into the tribal areas, where no one is in control. All of Nangarhar is Pashtun tribal land, but the closer you get to the border the rougher the mountains are, and the less influence either the government or the Taliban has. We will try to exit through the Khyber Pass. Since that is still under government control, you should be able to use your own passports."

"Isn't a truck full of European-looking people in the middle of Pashtun tribal land going to be awfully conspicuous, especially with everyone looking for some escaped journalists fitting our description?"

"Not necessarily; first, there may not be anyone looking for us at all. We know that Khalifa was acting without the knowledge of the Taliban command, and all the witnesses to our escape died with him. It is not certain when, or if, anyone with the authority to try and stop us, will even know we still exist."

"But we can't be certain that the two men that he sent back earlier won't tip off Khalifa's allies."

"True, so that's why we are hurrying. And then there is part two, the disguises."

"What disguises?"

"Raza and Ayman were quite ingenious really. It's the perfect disguise, although I'm afraid you will find them a bit uncomfortable. Rather miserable, in fact." Azalea was obviously containing laughter with difficulty, but her smirk showed she was going to enjoy this.

"All right, dammit, Azalea, let's hear it. What are these disguises that you find so amusing?"

"Burqas."

"Burqas? You've got to be kidding."

"Not at all, think about it, Inside a burqa no one can tell you're not just another Afghan woman, although a bit tall perhaps. It will also explain why you're not talking, because none of us would normally talk when traveling with a male. I'm afraid you will find them a bit warm and stuffy but when the Taliban take over, they will make all the women in Afghanistan wear them whenever they leave the house. I guess we can all stand them for a day."

"We?"

"Yes. Of course, I'll be wearing one too. And I'll hate it as much as you. Probably worse, because of all it stands for. Only Nura gets to stay the way she is. Girls her age are not generally expected to wear them."

The little truck drove on through the night without lights, relying on what the moon supplied and the sharp eyes and instincts of Ayman. He was able to maintain a surprising rate of speed at the cost of passenger comfort. The miles passed with no sign of Taliban guards, or any signs of human occupation at all until suddenly, a huge black shape seemed to rise out of the ground in front of them. It was ugly and alien, angular with huge pods hanging on the sides and a long proboscis. The noise and downdraft were unbearable, as the huge black machine skimmed only a matter of feet above them. They all ducked their heads as if they thought it was going to actually hit the truck. Briefly it filled the windshield and covered the sky. And then just as quickly, it was gone leaving the empty sky as though as though it had never been there.

"Darryl," Azalea cried, "What was that?"

"Damn, I'm not absolutely sure, but I think it was an American Pave Low helicopter. Not many others could fly that low at night. But what it would be doing here, I wouldn't know. They are used for covert ops, rescue missions, things like that."

"Maybe they were here to rescue you and James and Cheryl."

"Nice thought but first, remember, we're all dead. Even if they found out we're not, they wouldn't know where we are. And beyond that, you don't send US troops in harms way to rescue a few stray civilians. No, whatever they are here for, it isn't to save us, we're on our own"

-------

MH-53J Pave Low Helicopter
Tues., June, 26 9:10 PM (Local), Tues., June 26 16:40:00 (Zulu)

The pilot was startled by his own observations and wanted to check them with his co-pilot.

"Did you see that?"

"Affirmative, on the forward looking infrared, and by eyeball I got one truck, with passengers."

"Did you see any lights?"

"Not so much as a flash light."

"Me either but did you get the Doppler on the radar?"

"Yeah, I did, but I'm not sure I believe it."

"I think this scores high enough on the weird shit scale that it rates a report back to Mr. Worthy and Lt. Barber"

The pilot reached forward and switched channels on his headset. "Dave, you guys on the circuit?"

"I'm on, and Lt. Barber; you need anyone else?"

"No, this may mean nothing anyway, but a moment ago, we flew directly above a small truck which IR confirmed as occupied."

"Well, that blows our cover, but not unexpected given the number of trucks the Taliban operate in this area. Do you think it has any direct impact on our operations?"

"No sir, but there was something out of the ordinary. The truck was operating without any lights, and driving hell bent for leather away from the explosions."

"Over this terrain? Who, in God's name would be crazy, or desperate enough to drive fast without lights, over some of the roughest ground in the world?"

"That was our question exactly. But it may be a question that will have to wait. We're approaching the cave now. I'm going to start to execute the area sweep."

The pilot brought the helicopter up enough to make a wide sweep around the cave to look for any obvious enemy threats that could reach them during the vulnerable period on the ground. Then he immediately brought the huge machine in for a medium height sweep directly over the cave location itself. At the end of which, an immediate mid-air u-turn lined up the final low level sweep over the planned landing zone. On this final sweep the FLIR (Forward Looking Infrared) showed four human sized shapes. They were warmer than inanimate objects but not warm enough to be alive. The pilot knew immediately that no one was going to like this report.

"Dave, IR sweeps show nobody in the area around the cave, unless they're hiding in the cave itself."

"Sounds good."

"There's more... It's hard to be absolutely sure, but it looks like we may have four dead bodies just outside the cave. Four adults, probably killed within the last hour. They're right in our landing zone."

"Thanks for the heads up; I don't much care for the sound of that. Bring the bird in; it'll be the SEALs show now."

The big Pave Low dropped into the landing zone, and the pilot swung the rear doors and ramp toward the cave entrance. Not only could the Seals exit, but also the ramp mounted 7.62 mm minigun would be facing anyone coming from the mouth of the cave. Two SEALs accompanied Karl to the cave, while the others defended against any other threats. Dave Worthy and Lt Barber examined the bodies for any clues they could find there.

"Check this out." said Lt. Barber, "A Taliban Colonel."

"Worthy used a small flash light to see the face. "Shit, that's not just a Taliban colonel, that's Khalifa. A very dangerous man. He's associated with a new Saudi-based group called al Qaeda. They are real trouble makers, and they really hate the West. Whatever went down here tonight was pretty heavy to involve him, let alone kill him. So what do you think happened here?"

Lt. Barber looked around. "I've been working on that. Pre-dug grave, four bodies in a row; it almost looks like an execution; except they were shot from too far away and the wrong angle. The more I look at it, the more I think these guys maybe weren't the intended victims. They may been the executioners and found themselves ambushed. So that leaves three questions: who did the ambush, who were the intended victims, and what happened to them?"

Moments later the cave party returned. "They're not there," Karl reported, "It's obvious that they were there until very recently. All their personal belongings are stacked by the door as though they were planning to leave today. I found both Darryl's and James's camera bags but without the critical items and exposed film that they would normally carry with them. Other than that, no clue about where they were going."

Everyone looked to Dave Worthy for a decision about the next move, although it looked like only one command was possible. Dave looked at the disappointment in their faces before he spoke, but he knew these were professionals who would resent any attempt at sugar-coating the truth.

"Gentlemen, I don't like it any more than you do, but it looks like our intel was correct. Even if we came as fast as possible it was going to be close. It looks like it was about 45 minutes too close for us. We did everything possible to get this op going in record time, and still it wasn't quite enough. That's no reflection on any one of you. All of you performed in a professional manner throughout. I'm sorry your efforts were not more fruitful, but someone got here before us, possibly just in time to prevent the American journalists from being killed. Unfortunately, we have no way in hell of knowing what they did with them afterwards. They may have taken them with them. With no clue as to where to look, our mission is done. Let's get back aboard this beast and get the hell out of Dodge, before someone misses their colonel and wants to blame us. Those photojournalists, if they are still alive, are going to have to fend for themselves."

-------

The Lake House
Tues., June, 26 12:15 PM (Local), Tues., June 26 16:45:00 (Zulu)

Courtney lay in a world of empty blackness, but it lasted only a moment. Amazingly, death having swept over her so devastatingly, left as suddenly as it had come. As the darkness lifted she felt a cold damp spot on her neck, then a rough, warm tongue bathing her cheek and forehead. She regained awareness to find the wolf nuzzling and licking her to comfort her; grooming her as if she were a pack-mate.

Have I lost him?

Death was close, but he lives. Whether or not you have lost him is still a question.

Was it the rescue I sent? Did they save him?

No, they are very near, but they will not find him.

I tried to hurry them.

You did, and they came as fast as they could, but it was not as fast as death.

Who then?

Another.

Is he safe now?

He and his friends flee through the night in a dangerous land.

Can no one rescue them?

Only he whom you sent knows the way to find them.

Will he?

He must trust what he knows and get others to trust him.

The wolf began fading away as she returned to the world of the Lake House.

"Wait, wait, please wait," she cried. But it did no good. She found herself looking into the concerned faces of her friends.

"Who are you talking to?" asked Robyn.

"The wolf, my wolf, she came to me as the darkness passed to tell me that Darryl survived."

"On thank God," said Jaclyn. "We got the rescue team there in time."

"No, apparently not, almost, but they won't find them; at least not now."

"You mean that whole huge rescue operation has been a total waste?" Jaclyn's dismay was painful to see.

"That apparently is up to our valiant Karl."



-------

Chapter 18: All Ye, All Ye, In Come Free

The law of sacrifice is uniform throughout the world. To be effective it demands the sacrifice of the bravest and the most spotless

Mohandas Gandhi

MH-53J Pave Low Helicopter on ground at Cave

Tues., June, 26 9:25 PM (Local), Tues., June 26 16:55:00 (Zulu)

Failure... a hard word for an elite team like this one to swallow but there it was, the rescue operation had failed. The entire team was retreating back aboard the Pave Low Helicopter with the discipline of professionals, but with the slight reluctance of dedicated men returning empty handed from a mission.

Karl Jager was wrestling with his conscience and his self confidence. He was convinced that they were making a mistake, but as the lone civilian, he was reluctant to speak out. He felt sure he knew where to look for the missing journalists. Could he convince Dave Worthy or would he just look foolish? Karl knew it wasn't about taking a chance on being embarrassed; it was about loyalty and friendship. Could he ever face Courtney again if he didn't speak up? For a man like Karl, there was only one possible answer. He ran to catch up with Dave Worthy.

"Dave, excuse me, but I know how to find them."

"Please tell me this isn't from a dream or some talking animal."

"No sir, this is from skills I learned from one of the 'most down to earth' men that ever lived."

"I'll probably regret this, but I don't like going home empty handed either, so I'll hear you out." He turned and shouted. "Lt. Barber, would you join us please."

He waited until the SEAL commander had joined them. "Lieutenant, Mr. Jager here thinks he knows how to find our missing journalists. Go ahead, Mr. Jager you've got one minute to sell it." His constant emphasis on the word "Mr." reminded everyone that Karl was the lone civilian on the mission.

"My grandfather was a professional Jaeger, like my name. In German, it means a professional hunter, forest ranger, rifleman and game warden. He was famous for catching poachers, and went around the world training other game wardens. He also taught me. It's a matter of reading a site, figuring who you are dealing with, what they are after and then what they will do."

"Can you read this site?"

"Yes sir, I think I can."

"And all the rest, including figuring out where they went."

"I believe it's all here if I can have a little assistance."

"Shit, what do we have to lose? Nobody's chasing us off yet. Let's hear it Jager."

"I'd like to get a man up on the hill to look for sniper pits, and I'd like a man to follow these truck tracks to see if one splits off from the rest and heads west."

Lt. Barber barked out. "Bradley, get the ATV; follow these tracks just to the end of the gulley; see if one splits west. If you see any sign of bad guys, get your ass back here. You got 5 minutes max. Carlson, get your butt up that hill; look for sniper pits, back here in five; GO!"

"Okay Jager, now what does all this prove?"

"I'm looking for sniper positions to confirm my assumption that this was no chance encounter. That the raiders knew the prisoners were here and set up an ambush. "

"OK, I can see that. But even so, how do you know where they went."

"Grandfather said that the secret is simply to become the poacher. Assume he's about as intelligent as you, because he most likely is. Grandfather used to say, 'If he is a whole lot smarter than you, you aren't going to catch him anyway and if he's a lot stupider, he's not going to get away no matter what.'"

"Okay, Jager," David Worthy said, "Let's say for argument's sake that you're commanding the raiding party. What do you do with the prisoners?"

"I think Carlson is going to find indications that the raiders were a small group of ten men or less. They planned to rescue the prisoners, but they also planned to raid the Taliban camp and blow up the ammo and fuel. They're not going to take a bunch of civilians with them to do that, nor are they in a position to give them an escort. I think I would give them a vehicle, probably a truck, possibly an experienced driver, tell them to lay low until the fireworks start, and then to drive west like the devil was after them. If they survive the ride, they will be deep into tribal lands by sunrise, where neither the government nor the Taliban hold much control. Then I'd tell them to try to get across the border."

Bradley came to a skidding stop with the little black ATV. "Yes sir, as soon as the tracks leave the ravine, they all head towards the Taliban camp, with the exception of one that turns one eighty and takes off due west."

"There's one count on your side," said Lt. Barber. "Let's see what Carlson found."

The SEAL, having completed his survey of the hill top, returned at a full run. "Someone was dug in on the hill, and very well camouflaged," he reported. "They were not amateurs; most likely veterans of the war with Russia. I'd guess seven men, dug in for about four days."

"OK, Jager, you're batting a thousand, so now you think we need to find the truck?"

"Yes sir, if I'm right, any truck running hard west without lights is very likely them."

"Would it surprise you to hear that we passed over a vehicle fitting that exact description on the way in about eight klicks west of here?"

"That's got to be them. I'd stake my life on it."

"You may get the chance." Turning away he signaled to Lt. Barber.

On their commander's signal, the SEAL team pulled in their perimeter and got aboard. Lt. Barber made sure every one was accounted for, and then turned control back over to the pilot and the aircrew. In a matter of seconds, the huge helicopter quietly lifted off, and after a quick circuit looking for immediate threats, headed west.

David Worthy signaled Karl over to where they could talk over the noise inside the machine. "This is your show now; I want you up on the flight deck with the FLIR and RADAR operators so you all can coordinate what you're looking for. And remember, fuel and darkness are not unlimited, so we can't take too long at this."

In The Truck

Tues., June, 26 9:45 PM (Local), Tues., June 26 17:15:00 (Zulu)

The wild ride continued through the knight. Darryl thought back to some off-road jeep trips he had made with friends in the Colorado Rockies. They had seemed the pinnacle of high adventure at the time, but they were tame in comparison to this night's ride. Unquestionably, Ayman's skills would have made him a champion in the competitive sport. Darryl was continually amazed at his uncanny ability to find a navigable route through the rocky terrain, while maintaining the constant high rate of speed. With anyone else at the wheel, the truck would have been a crumpled heap of steaming metal by now and the passengers would have been strewn out along the path.

They had seen no sign of humans, since the giant helicopter flew over them at low altitude, and that was exactly what they hoped for. Unfortunately, their hopes were soon dashed. The old dried arroyo they were following happened to cross a dirt road. Ayman stopped for a moment, trying to determine where the road went. He had to judge whether the greater danger of being spotted outweighed the tremendous increase in speed. The road was, in fact, only infrequently patrolled by the Taliban, but as fate would have it, one of the rare patrols was fast approaching, The headlight glow from the three vehicles gave a few seconds warning; just time enough for Ayman to get back in and power them quickly off the road back into the river bed. The question now was whether they had been spotted. Darryl braced Azalea, who had outstanding night vision, so that she could look backward through the rear window.

Azalea gave a running commentary. "They're coming up to where we crossed... oh, oh they stopped. They must have spotted something suspicious. They're just sitting there, probably calling for orders." They continued on watching for any change. "They're moving again... it looks like they're going on down the road. Maybe we weren't important enough. No, wait; that's odd. I only see two sets of headlights. I wonder where the third is."

"Left guarding the road in case we double back," speculated Darryl.

Ayman looked skeptical when Azalea related their conclusions, but said nothing. Instead he brought the truck to a quick halt, shut off the engine and motioned them into silence. Somewhere behind them came the unmistakable sounds of another vehicle making its torturous way over the rugged ground. Ayman restarted their vehicle and took off all the faster.

He carried on a conversation with Azalea and then sat there impassively as she translated it to Darryl. "Ayman says they spotted us and have sent one vehicle in pursuit without headlights, to make sure we don't double back. From the sounds, Ayman says they are moving a lot slower and are no immediate threat. He is more concerned about the other two."

"Why, if they just kept on the road?"

"That's the point. Roads and rivers in these hills wind around constantly. Ayman figures they went on because they know that somewhere ahead, the road crosses the river again and they'll be waiting for us there. The guy behind us will make sure that we're driven into the net."

"Shit, what chance do we have against three truckloads of soldiers?"

"Ayman figures our best chance is to go as fast as possible, and get to the crossing before them or charge on through them."

"Sounds a little flimsy, doesn't it?"

"He said it's our best chance; he never said it was a good chance."

MH-53J Pave Low Helicopter
Tues., June, 26 10:00 PM (Local), Tues., June 26 17:30:00 (Zulu)

Karl examined the terrain through the FLIR unit until he found what he was looking for. "There, that's it, an arroyo, a dried river bed. And it's heading due west; follow that."

"You got it," said the pilot, "but why did you look for a river bed?"

"Rivers usually carve a flatter route and tend to have a smoother bottom than the surrounding countryside, especially here where they were mainly carved by floods."

Using the invisible probes of radar and infrared the Pave Low flew through the night in pursuit of its quarry.

"Skipper," reported the FLIR operator, "we are passing the GPS point where we flew over the truck coming in. It was in this arroyo."

"Way to go, Jager," said the pilot, "you've sold me." They continued to follow the dried river bed. At one point they crossed over an intersecting road.

"Skipper, said the FLIR operator, "I've got a vehicle, check that, I've got multiple vehicles. Can you bring us up so I can get a better look?"

"Coming up"

"That's enough. OK, here's what I've got. Just beyond the point where the arroyo crosses a road I have two vehicles traveling in the arroyo without lights, the one in front traveling a good bit faster than the one behind. I have two more vehicles traveling at a high rate of speed on the highway which roughly parallels the arroyo."

"I'm looking at a high resolution targeting map," said the co-pilot, "That road crosses the arroyo about 10 klicks further down. Dollars to Aunt Sally's underwear our target is that faster vehicle in the arroyo and they're headed for an ambush."

"It's your show now Karl," said the pilot, "How do you read this, and what're your orders?"

"I agree, it's them in the first truck;, they were seen when they crossed the road and are now being trapped. Question is, can we get to them first?"

"It's going to be tight, but I think we have a shot; I'll pour on the coal."

Pouring on the coal in this case meant sending out 4,330 shaft horsepower from each of the two GE T-64 engines. This resulted in moving some twenty tons of helicopter and crew through the air at 165 miles per hour. During the pursuit, the pilot and Dave Worthy had a quick conference.

As mission commander, Worthy came on the general intercom. "Listen up, in a few minutes we are going to intercept a truck that we believe contains the people we came here to rescue. They have been spotted and are being pursued by a Taliban patrol. This will have to be done quick, quick, quick, before the bad guys arrive. Just grab these people and get them aboard. Remember the Rules of Engagement: we are not at war with the Taliban; you may not fire on them unless: they fire on you first; you can fire in defense to protect your life or to protect the life of an American soldier, but you can't shoot first. Violations of these rules carry severe sanctions. Yeah, I know, I think they suck, too, but those are the rules, obey them. That is all. Good luck!"

The pilot handed a microphone to Karl. "OK, Karl, here's where you really earn your keep. This microphone connects you into an extremely loud outside speaker. When I give the signal, you start making noises that will have them convinced we are their friends. Use their names, familiar things, things that no outsider would know. Do a good job, because I'm going to set this beast right down in front of them, and I don't want them ramming us, or bailing out and bolting into the hinterlands. We'll get one shot at this, and a short one at that."

Karl watched through the front window as they passed over the Taliban pursuit truck. The driver was apparently so startled at having an 88 foot long helicopter fly over his truck at low altitude that he lost control and piled the truck into the embankment. Moments later they caught up with the other truck. About two klicks further on they saw the two trucks on the road reach the river, take up position and turn out their lights. The intercept had to be immediate to have enough room between them and the road block.

"Talk fast, Karl, and make it good," the pilot ordered, "I want to fly straight over them and drop straight down. I need them to stop now if not sooner."

In The Truck

Tues., June, 26 10:10 PM (Local), Tues., June 26 17:40:00 (Zulu)

Cheryl was the first to spot the shadowy shape coming up behind them. She knocked on the rear window to get Darryl and Azalea's attention and pointed it out to them.

"It's got to be that same helicopter from earlier, said Darryl, "I still think it looks like an American Pave Low. I wonder what the hell it's after."

"Are you sure it's not you?" asked Azalea.

"There's no way in hell they could know we're in this truck, even if they are looking for us."

At that moment, as though to contradict him, a loud but familiar voice boomed out of the sky. "Darryl, Darryl Sanders, this is Karl Jager, if you're in that truck, stop immediately; we're here to pick you up. There is a trap ahead; you need to stop now."

Azalea translated to Ayman who asked if she was sure this was legitimate. When she assured him, he braked the truck to a quick stop.

"Are you going to come with us, Ayman?"

"My place is here; I'll stay with the truck. I think I can get around that guy behind us."

"Thank you for all you have done; you saved us all."

"I did what my honor required; whatever happens to me, you will tell Kabir?"

"Of course, faithful friend, and farewell."

As soon as the truck stopped, Darryl went back and helped James and Cheryl get ready. The Pave Low dropped down directly in front of the stopped truck, the rear doors opened, and the ramp fell. The SEAL team immediately rushed out, and as ordered, started loading the refugees with a minimum of ceremony and a maximum of haste.

Unfortunately, in the rush, no one realized that little Nura was the one person that had no idea what was happening. All she knew was that a huge bizarre helicopter had chased them down, yelled something at them, and blocked their path. There were men dressed in black coming at them from it. And now the one thing no one could have predicted happened. Fearless Nura panicked. The little girl who had faced a firing squad without flinching, who had twice said goodbye to her father without a tear, panicked. It's the nature of all children that somewhere there is a bogeyman that they are completely terrified of. Blessedly, these bogeymen are almost always completely imaginary. Nura's bogeyman came from listening to the stories of the warriors she grew up with; veterans of the war against the Russians. They were fairly contemptuous of the typical Russian conscript they fought, but they spoke with respect, even fear when they spoke of the dreaded Spetsnaz, who flew in at night in black helicopters, wearing black clothing and left nothing but death behind. When Nura saw a black helicopter land and spill out men in black uniforms her ultimate nightmare was a reality, and she snapped like an over-tight violin string.

Nura shrieked one word, "Spetsnaz!" And without even taking her precious Oud, she ran off into the rocks as fast as her short legs would carry her.

Suddenly the smooth loading operation came to a halt as first Azalea, and then Darryl exited the helicopter. Dave Worthy shouted, 'What the fuck is the hold up, those Taliban have caught on and are heading this way, why isn't everyone aboard?"

"The little Afghan girl mistook us for Russian Spetsnaz," reported Lt. Barber, "She panicked and ran off into those rocks to hide."

"Oh Christ, We can't stay on the ground much longer, those Taliban trucks are heading this way, I'm sorry, but we may have to leave her."

"I can't leave without her; I made her my responsibility," declared Azalea.

"And Azalea, I will not leave without you. You wouldn't leave me and I can't leave you," said Darryl.

"God damn, folks, I love all this fucking loyalty and all, but you're not getting it. We can't stay on the ground. You'd be throwing your lives away, and the little girl is no better off."

Karl stepped forward. "Listen, Darryl, you know I'm a man of my word, and you can assure Azalea that I am. You guys get aboard, and I swear to you I'll get Nura. I'm a champion triathlon athlete, and no child can out-run me. Dave, look at those rocks. They can't take the truck in after me, and they can't keep up with me on foot. To the east there's an open area they won't be able to get to; I grab Nura and you can pick me up there."

Dave nodded, "Sounds better than anything yet. Everybody OK with it?" Darryl and Azalea nodded.

"Karl," Azalea said, "Sing the song to her; she'll know you're a friend."

"Thanks, I will." Karl jumped down and ran towards the rocks.

MH-53J Pave Low Helicopter
Tues., June, 26 10:15 PM (Local), Tues., June 26 17:45:00 (Zulu)

The big Pave Low leaped from the ground. Within less than half a minute the trucks arrived, one took off in pursuit of Ayman but the other had apparently spotted Karl. The truck parked at the edge of the rocks and the six men inside scattered in pursuit. Karl was handicapped by having to play hide and seek with Nura as well as trying to keep track of the six pursuers. They were close enough to start taking pot shots at him.

Seeing the idle door guns, Darryl turned to Dave Worthy, "Can't we pin those guys down for him?"

"Damn rules of engagement; the U.S. is not at war with the Taliban; if they don't fire on us we can't fire on them. Since, Karl is a civilian here against State Department advisories we can't fire to support him."

"Excuse me, sir," interrupted Azalea, "do these rules only apply to U.S. citizens? I am an Afghan national, and of course, we are in a state of war with the Taliban."

Dave chuckled "I admire your spirit, and I can't think of anything in the orders that would stop you from action, hell; I'd even loan you the weapon, but do you know how to use a 50 cal? We can't offer help or instruction."

Azalea shrugged. "Looks like a pretty standard 50 cal M2 from here; thanks, but I don't think I need help."

And while an entire cabin full of tough, professional, male warriors gawked in disbelief, this statuesque beauty stepped up to the window, politely accepted the weapon from the gunner, thanking him. She set the gun for full auto, and pulled back the lever. Taking full advantage of the guns legendary accuracy, this was after all, the only machine gun ever to be used as a sniper weapon, she fired short precisely aimed bursts. One pursuer was almost cut in half, and another was down, wounded in the leg.

More important, the remaining pursuers now had to take cover from a threat from above, slowing them down and giving Karl needed time.

To give them more to think about, she took advantage of an orbit of the Pave Low and fired five short bursts, systematically shredding all four wheels on their truck and destroying the engine compartment.

The gunner's jaw dropped open, and he turned to Dave Worthy. "You said something about her needing help, sir? Forget it. Ain't nobody on this bird can show this lady nothing about shooting. Far as I can see she ought to be an instructor at the 551st at Kirtland. She damn sure can shoot better than any instructor I had there."

Darryl laughed. "You should see what she can do with a knife to guys who try to get physical with her."

"No thanks," said the gunner, "I'll take your word for it."

One of the other Air Force crew came up to the gunner. "The bad guys are starting to take a few pot shots at us. Shall I take over on the 50 cal. now?"

"Yeah, Peters, yeah, you can take over;... just as soon as you learn how to shoot like that. No, you can't take over, you butt-head! I'll take over the minigun on the other side. You should stand behind that little lady' and try to learn from her. She's the best I've seen, and I've been doing this shit for almost twenty years."

On The Ground
Tues., June, 26 10:20 PM (Local), Tues., June 26 17:50:00 (Zulu)

For all his athletic ability Karl was finding the wily Nura a difficult and agile prey. The potshots from his pursuers had added a most unwelcome distraction. Knowing that trying to avoid them would make catching the girl impossible, he decided to basically ignore them. Knowing how difficult it is to hit a moving target at night, he just kept moving. The authoritative tones of the 50 cal helped a lot. Not to mention that as soon as it started, the shots from the ground stopped. He was close enough to see her now, but her face was still full of terror. He had removed his black head gear and camouflage in order to look more human, but when she turned, she still looked at him as though he were the devil incarnate.

Azalea voice boomed from the sky. "Nura, it's OK. He's a friend. He's come to take us to stay with the woman who wrote the song. Nura, it's all right, go with him."

Nura hesitated, uncertain, but it was enough for Karl. He dashed in and scooped her up at full stride. Nura squealed and struggled, but Karl's powerful swimmer's arms held on. He was no great shakes as a singer, but as soon as he broke into the familiar refrain of the Song of Thanks, Nura understood at last, and wrapping her arms around his neck began to sing along. With a better balance, Karl was now able to use his great speed to open up the distance from his pursuers. Of course, the fact that Azalea had them spending most of their time burrowing under rocks to save their own necks, had greatly reduced any interest they had in Karl.

Karl continued toward the clear area for the planned rendezvous. He couldn't see them stopping him now.

MH-53J Pave Low Helicopter
Tues., June, 26 10:30 PM (Local), Tues., June 26 18:00:00 (Zulu)

The FLIR operator turned to the pilot in alarm. "Sir, we've got company, and they're heading towards the extraction point,"

"Damn, I see them. The other truck must have given up the chase or been called back. Bastards are heading right for our spot." The pilot keyed his microphone. "Starboard Gunner, you still have Annie Oakley on the 50."

"Sure have, Skipper, and she's locked and loaded and open for business."

"Good, make sure she has a fresh belt and plenty more. We've got a new truck heading right for Karl. I'm going to swing this ship and give her a perfect 300 meter shot with us stopped. Tell her that truck and its passengers need to be a smokin' heap of shit in about ten seconds, or they're going to get to Karl and Nura"

The gunner relayed the instructions to Azalea, while the pilot practically laid the ship on its side in a quick 180. With the helicopter stopped in midair, Azalea took a few seconds to track the speeding jeep and then she led it slightly with her muzzle. Gripping the two handles tightly, she held down the trigger. The 50 cal gave out its unembellished but thoroughly authoritative TacTacTacTacTacTacTac spewing forth a stream of golden tracers striking the truck at perfect headlight height. The 50 cal bullets, originally designed to rip apart enemy aircraft, made short work of the lightweight Japanese truck, destroying the engine block, shredding hoses and wires, and making mince meat of other engine components.

The driver and passenger in the cab never knew what hit them. The five men riding in the rear had a bit more warning. One stayed and died of gunfire without moving. The gunner was trying to bring his own similar soviet made machine gun to bear on the Pave Low, but was cut in half before he got a shot off. One tried to vault over the side, only to jump directly into the path of a 50 cal slug. Two flopped down on the truck bed and escaped temporarily as the rounds passed over them. Their reprieve ran out, as the now driverless truck hit a rock and flipped end over end, tossing them out like rag dolls. One of the two hit hard and didn't get up; the other sprung to his feet, seemingly unharmed, and disappeared behind some rocks.

The gunner whistled. "Awesome shooting, young lady, you'll be a legend."

Azalea pouted, "But one got away."

The one that got away was good. He found good cover under a large rock that covered him from above. Azalea couldn't get a shot in. Every time Karl would attempt to break free, he would come under fire. Things got even worse, when the Taliban from the first truck finally caught up and now had Karl completely pinned from two sides. The Taliban couldn't leave their cover without coming under fire from the Pave Low. Karl and Nura couldn't leave theirs without coming under fire from the Taliban.

Dave Worthy got on the intercom with the pilot and Lt. Barber. "We got us a Mexican standoff; trouble is, we're burning fuel and nighttime, and we don't know if these guys have help coming. We've gotta end this damn quick. Ideas?"

"Let us do our job," said Lt. Barber. "This is why we were invited to this picnic. Make a low slow pass with wonder woman there on a mini-gun to keep them down, and we'll jump two two-man teams. One team between each bad guy and Karl. Then you drag the lift gate where Karl can run up it. Those guys stick their heads up, we take them down."

"What about rules of engagement?"

"That's why I want my men between the Taliban and Karl. Can you tell a difference between someone shooting over you and some shooting at you? I sure don't see one."

"OK, and say we get Karl and the girl; now I've got four of your men trapped on the ground. How's that better off?"

"Sir, with all due respect, we're U.S. Navy SEALs. A year ago, those guys were reading the Koran in a courtyard in Pakistan. If my men can't take them out, then we deserve to walk home."

"Sounds like a plan, Gentlemen, Gunner, if you could just give that young lady a short course on the mini-gun, I'd appreciate it... and fuck the rules. SEALs, do whatever it is you do to get ready. When everybody's set, I'll give the signal."

The gunner and Azalea switched sides to use the 7.62 mm mini-gun, a modern day descendent of the nineteenth century multi-barrel Gatling gun. The main modern improvement was the replacement of the hand crank with a high speed electric motor.

The gunner had shown Azalea the main controls. "Not much to it, really; just remember, it eats ammo fast. This here selector can set it for either 2,000 rounds per minute or 4,000. I usually leave at 2,000. That's three times faster than the 50 cal, and it'll give you a total of two minutes of firing. I'd only use 4,000 if I was in panic mode and needed to knock down something fast. You only have one minute but 4,000 can do a lot of damage. When we come in low and slow to drop the SEALs, you'll need to alternate rapidly back and forth to keep them both down."

Like all natural marksmen, Azalea had little trouble transferring her skill to the unfamiliar gun. Deflection, compensating for the high speeds in aerial combat, played much less a role at helicopter speeds and the tracer rounds showed her exactly where she was shooting.

When all was ready, Dave Worthy gave the signal and the big bird dove in and slowed with the rear gate open. Two sets of SEALs armed with M16s with grenade launchers, and Heckler & Koch MP5 submachine guns stood ready. Brief, tearing sounds, bursts from the minigun, punctuated the approach. At that moment a light near the rear door turned green; the helicopter came to a near stop and dipped the rear platform to just a few feet above the ground. A longer RIIIIP came from the door gun. On their commander's signal, two SEALs ran off the ramp and disappeared under cover as though the ground had swallowed them. A few hundred yards further, the whole choreography was performed again. The Pave Low immediately climbed to a safer altitude to await developments. Except for whatever help Azalea could render in fire support, it was a ground war now.

On The Ground
Tues., June, 26 10:40 PM (Local), Tues., June 26 18:10:00 (Zulu)

Karl realized that they were coming in to drop SEALs but why did they drop them exactly between him and the Taliban? Surely it would have made more sense to drop them in another quadrant, or behind, so that they couldn't watch both at the same time. Then he remembered rules of engagement. When they shot at him, they would engage the SEALs who could then use all manner of deadly force in self defense. Clearly it was his job now to provoke them into attacking him. He gently lay Nura down. He had no wish to expose her to a lucky shot now.

Karl's impatience overcame his sense of caution and common sense. He jumped up, planning to use his athleticism to give them an impossible target. When he did, Nura felt like this kind warrior was abandoning her for being such a burden. Wishing to prove she could keep up, she came along with Karl. She moved much slower and her clothes were much more conspicuous than his night camouflage. A Taliban soldier who had pursued them from the first truck saw them exposed, rose up, took careful aim and got off one good shot. He never lived to see the result because a M16 round from a SEAL knocked him down before his finger could launch a second shot.

Unfortunately, once fired, a bullet has a life of its own irregardless of the fate of the one who gave it life. This one flew straight and true and hit Nura in her left lower neck. Karl caught her as she collapsed in his hands.

Everything that could be wrong about anything in Karl's world was wrong here. Karl's career was protecting the innocent and he had failed. He was a man of honor and he had sworn to bring back this girl safely, and he had failed. And Karl so loved children that he spent his free time at children's hospitals reading stories, and he had failed to protect this one. He knew that the shot couldn't have been aimed at him and missed; it had to have been aimed at this innocent child. He sat down, the bleeding child in his arms, and sobbed, a broken man. He was even denied vengeance. The last Taliban, with four enraged SEALs after him, never saw another target before he briefly felt the cold blade at his neck. Normally, a more modern, longer range weapon would have been used, but deliberately targeting a young girl required a more personal form of retribution.

With all the bad guys down, the Pave Low landed and opened up. Two of the SEALs helped Karl carry Nura's limp body into the helicopter, and it prepared to lift off. Azalea wanted desperately to rush to Nura but she was raised to duty, and her duty right now was to man the 7.62 minigun on the rear platform.

Everyone was aboard except for the last two SEALs when suddenly another truck running full out without lights shot over the ridge. The smashed front end identified it as the truck that crashed when the Pave Low flew over it. They were heading right for the helicopter at full speed, probably in an attempt to ram it and disable it.

Azalea reacted first; slipping the selector up to 4,000 rpm she shouted to Lt. Barber. "Get your men down, now!"

To his credit he didn't hesitate. "HIT THE DECK, INCOMING!!"

A determined grimace on her lips, Azalea aimed the minigun at the front grill of the truck and held the trigger down. The almost solid wall of bullets cut the vehicle in half. The truck and its occupants ceased to have a recognizable shape. How close the parts slid to them showed the very real danger they were in. But thanks to Azalea's quick response, the only piece to make actual contact was a lone rear tire that rolled right up the ramp before depositing itself like cargo on the deck. The two SEALs suffered some minor scrapes and burns but nothing requiring more than a Band-aid.

As the ramp rose and the doors closed, a familiar voice came on the intercom. "This is your Captain speaking. That concludes this evening's entertainment, Ladies and Gentlemen. We are now going to perform a military maneuver I like to call getting the fuck out of here."

In the rear, one of the SEALs had stretched Nura out on mattress pad and was cutting away her clothing. He was setting up an IV when Azalea knelt down beside him.

He turned to her with surprisingly gentle eyes. "I'm Hospital Corpsman 1st Class Jacobs, Ma'am. I've had good training in gunshot wounds and more experience than I ever wanted. I'll take very good care of her."

"I'm Azalea Durrani, I'm a RN with Certification in Emergency Medicine and Surgery. I'd like to assist."

"Ma'am, you're probably better qualified than me. If you want to take over, I'll assist you."

"Not at all, Jacobs, you're in charge. What have we got?"

"It's nasty enough, ma'am. Blessedly, it missed the big nerves and carotid and spinal column, any of which could have been fatal or caused paralysis, but she'll need some serious surgical attention from someone that knows their stuff, if she is to ever have a full range of motion... She'll live, and with proper care, she'll eventually recover. At least that's my opinion, ma'am."

"Azalea finished her examination. "I think you've called it very well, Corpsman Jacobs; I would like to ask you to take one thing into consideration that you may not be aware of."

"Yes, Ma'am?"

"It's a neck wound, and I know that you have enough to deal with worrying about vertebral, nerve, vessel and muscle damage, but in addition I want you to know that she sings like an angel. One of the finest singing voices you will hear in your lifetime. And singing is her life. Do everything you can to protect her vocal cords as well."

"I'm glad you said something. I'll rethink placing that tracheotomy. In fact would you?"

"Yes, I will."

After everything they could do aboard the chopper had been done, and Nura was stable and sedated; Azalea came to Darryl who had been quietly watching. She climbed into his lap like a little girl might and simply said, "Hold me."

His arms tightly around her, she wept quietly into his shoulder. Finally he asked. "Will Nura be OK?"

"Do you mean will she live and heal? Yes, I'm sure she will. Will she still be able to sing? I don't know. What would that do to her? Once again, I just don't know."

Darryl said nothing, but he looked first at little Nura, and at her Oud, safely stowed in a corner. He looked at Karl, bloody, exhausted and guilt-ridden. James severely wounded in body and in some ways in spirit. So many hurts, bigger and smaller, but somehow the one that was troubling him the most was if this girl lost that angelic voice. It was a voice that made the world a much richer place. It was the voice of peace and beauty in an otherwise horrifying place. It was the voice that had pulled him off a doomed helicopter and saved his life. There was nothing he wouldn't give to help that little girl laying on the floor, or for the one on his lap.



-------

Chapter 19: A Line in the Sand

You are bit like Cinderella, coming home and taking it all off and then going out to replant the bulbs in the garden. ... 
Joanna Lumley

On The Ground — Covert Operations Base Weds, June, 27 12:30 AM (Local), Tues., June 26 20:30:00 (Zulu), Tues., June 26, 4:30 PM (Lake House)

The huge Pave Low helicopter sat down gently on the tarmac, and for the first time the huge GE turbines wound down to silence. As though the turbines had powered him as well, the last of Darryl's energy drained with the fading roar of the engines. He had no idea where he would get the strength to hobble off this craft, especially if he were to try to carry the sleeping Azalea, who was curled in his lap with the grace of a Persian cat, albeit one drowning in an oversized Air Force flight suit. He'd have to find a way though, because he wasn't going to let her go.

The harsh interior lights snapped on with the sudden disconcerting jump in reality experienced in a movie theater, when you have to make the mental leap from the breathless romance of the final scene of Casablanca to the mundane reality of everyday life. The glare revealed a group of tired warriors, covered in a great deal of dirt and not much less blood. Two bodies lay supine on stretchers, one of which demanded an IV drip and the constant attention of a hospital corpsman. The lights did solve one problem for him; Azalea awoke, held him for a moment, kissed him on the cheek and immediately went to Nura's side.

When the rear doors opened, Darryl saw a large white unmarked corporate-style jet standing by. He knew without asking that it was for them, and that it was sent by Courtney. God knows where it was taking them, but as long as it was away from this hell and had hot showers... 

A cargo lift platform pulled up, and a large cargo door opened on the side of the jet. The platform raised, and a proper transport stretcher appeared, complete with white starched sheets and an equally well-starched nurse. The platform lowered a few feet and then stopped and returned. After a few moments, two more stretchers and nurses appeared. Apparently the Pave Low pilot had used the tower to update their requirements.

Everyone exited and stood about in little groups at the request of Dave Worthy; the exception being little Nura, who was immediately taken aboard the white jet. Dave indicated he needed to make a quick call and then debrief them before they could leave. While they were waiting, Azalea removed the flight suit with the large Green Hornet patch of the 20th Special Operations Squadron and attempted to return it to the gunner who had loaned it to her.

"Ma'am," he said, "I'd be very proud if you would keep that flight suit and consider yourself an honorary member of this crew and the 20th Special Operations Squadron. I've never flown with anyone I'd rather have at my back, ma'am. You're good, real good."

"Thank you; there's no way I could refuse. Do you mind if I have a tailor improve the fit a bit? Perhaps I can send you a picture afterward."

"Oh, ma'am, I can guarantee that picture will have a place of honor in the NCO club."

The pilot interrupted diplomatically. "Ms. Durrani, if it wouldn't be too much trouble, could you make that three copies, so we will have one for the enlisted club, the NCO club and the Officer's Club. I think it will keep everyone happier."

"I'm flattered, but of course I will, and I just happen to know a good photographer."

"Seriously, ma'am," the pilot continued. "Stopping that truck almost certainly saved the helicopter and quite possibly the lives of everyone aboard. I believe you deserve some official recognition, but this will, of course, be one of those things that never really happened. Whether it happened or not, thank you very much anyway."

Lt Barber stepped up next to the pilot. "I don't want you to go away thinking these fly boys are the only ones who can show gratitude, Ms. Durrani. You showed even my men something about stepping up to the plate when you volunteered to be gunner. You directly saved two of my men by stopping that truck. And Ms. Woodson told me about you taking on an armed guard singled-handed with just a knife. You are a most impressive woman, Ms. Durrani, and it's been an honor serving with you. As a small token, I'd like to present you with this gold Seal and Trident pin, the symbol of the SEALs. More important, my men have asked me to tell you that if at anytime you need our help or protection, you have but to ask. This is not an empty gesture, ma'am; they mean it. It's a promise rarely given and never broken."

"Thank you, Lt. Barber. I grew up among similar men of honor. Tell them I hope I never have to call upon them, but I'll consider them my brothers now. And should the occasion ever arise, I have not the slightest doubt that I could depend on them."

Dave Worthy returned, and everyone gathered around. "I appreciate your patience. This whole operation is a bit tricky diplomatically, so I needed to verify things with the head shed in Washington. First, my congratulations; headquarters is pleased with the outcome and the conduct of this operation. Honors and career advancement are definite possibilities."

"Now, as far as what went down tonight. For the moment, IT NEVER HAPPENED. There's a good chance that they will have no idea that anything tonight had to do with any American journalists escaping, and that would suit us just fine. We'll wait a few weeks and act like you walked out. At this point, the Navy and the Air Force are dismissed. You'll have a full debriefing latter. I need to talk to these civilians for few moments."

Dave waited patiently for a final round of good byes. Nothing bonds more quickly and more permanently than shared danger. It had been a few short hours, and yet for those on the tarmac that night; this would forever be among their most vivid memories. Finally, all that was left was the original little band, missing only Nura.

"I'll make this quick," Dave Worthy said, "I know you're exhausted and I'm sorry you will have to keep traveling a little further. For diplomatic reasons, it is important you never set foot in this country, so you cannot leave the runway. In fact, we'd like to keep you all under wraps for a few days at least. If there is anyone you want to let know you are alive, please go through me for now. This is a request, not an order, because I have no control over you once you leave her, but other lives may be at stake. For diplomatic reasons, Switzerland is the best place to send you while Nura's status is resolved. Courtney Archer has made arrangements for you to be flown directly to an outstanding and very private Swiss health spa and medical center. Once you all are patched up and rested, we'll decide where to go from there. You guys get going, and I'll catch up in a day or so."

With that, the waiting medical staff took charge and transferred James to a transport stretcher. They also wanted Darryl on a stretcher, but it took a stern look and whispered comment from Azalea to get him there. Onboard the patients were bathed, and then examined and evaluated by the physician from the clinic. He sat down with Azalea and Karl to report.

"Darryl and James both have wounds that should heal without problems," he reported. "James needs some surgery, but it's well within our clinic's capability to handle. Nura is another question. The neck is a delicate area, and quite frankly, I'm amazed that the bullet managed to miss the spine and major arteries. To repair the damage is something that should be done by a specialist, the best you can find. Do you want me to look for an expert neck surgeon?"

Azalea pleaded, "I know you probably see her as just a little Afghan orphan but please, she is a very special girl; please do whatever you can for her. She has a voice that the world needs to hear."

"Let me work on that," replied Karl. "This is a place where Courtney's clout may be useful. I'm need to call her anyway."

Karl used the in-flight phone to call the Lake House. Jaclyn answered, "Karl, I can't tell you how wonderful it is to hear your voice. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, just tired, and I really need a shower. I have a lot to tell you."

"Courtney is here with me; I'm putting you on speaker phone. Tell us everything; we've heard nothing at all, other than to have the plane standing by and to be prepared for casualties. Who is hurt?"

"First, let me tell you that the mission was successful; we have Darryl, James, and Cheryl. We also brought Azalea and Nura with us. Darryl has a wound in his leg, but it didn't hit any bones, so he should recover easily. James has several wounds and injuries from the ambush, and the physician says that he will need some routine surgery but should recover completely as well. Nura is the problem. She's a little Afghan girl the group has with them. Azalea and Darryl say she is a fighter and has a voice like an angel. Darryl says she saved his life."

"Oh God," cried Courtney, "she has to be the girl I've seen in my visions. You can't let anything happen to her."

"She got shot in the neck. Miraculously, it missed her spine and major arteries but no one knows what trauma or nerve damage may have been done to her vocal cords. The doctor on the plane said she should really be treated by an expert who specializes in the neck and throat. Courtney, can you help us find someone? I really want her to get well; I feel partially responsible for her injury. She was with me when she got hit. I should have protected her better."

"Don't worry Karl. The best reason to be rich and famous is that you can help out friends. I promise she will have the best there is. We'll call you back in a few minutes. OK?"

As soon as they hung up with Karl, Courtney turned to Jaclyn. "Remember the director at St. Jude's that's always bugging us about a benefit concert."

"Yes," replied Jaclyn, "he was very anxious. We promised to try and work something out in a few years. We just have so many requests for benefits... are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Yes, call him; tell him if he can get his best neck surgeon to Switzerland in the next 24 hours, I'll do his benefit. Anytime, anyplace he wants, and I'll even underwrite the cost. He'll love that."

A quick phone call confirmed that he did indeed love the offer. Their top man fortunately turned out to be an ex-military surgeon who kept a bag packed at all times. He would be ready in a few hours. A chartered plane would be waiting to whisk him off to the Swiss clinic.

"Call Karl back, and give him the good news," said Courtney, "and you can tell him we'll be there too; I assume there will be some extra seats for us."

"Well yes," admitted Jaclyn, "I thought you'd be as anxious to see Darryl as I am to see Karl."

"Of course," Courtney replied a little wistfully, "there's a difference though; you know Karl wants to see you, too. I'm not so sure about Darryl."

"You mean Azalea?"

"Yes, how do I compete with a woman like that? Can anyone compete with her?"

"You're not going to be able to compete at all from here, so the sooner you meet her in person, the better. And no mater what, you and Darryl have been friends forever, you need to go."

"We'll see; anyway, tell him we'll be there; we'll see what happens then."

Karl hung up the phone and started back to spread the good news. Cheryl stopped him. At that moment they were alone in the passenger section, everyone else being in the medical cabin.

"Karl, I overheard part of your conversation; Courtney and Jaclyn are flying in with the surgeon tomorrow, aren't they?"

"Yes, they'll be at the clinic by early afternoon."

"Listen, Karl, I want you to keep that between the two of us. Let everyone know about the surgeon, but I do not want Darryl to know that Courtney is coming. Understand?"

"No, I don't understand. Darryl will want to meet her at the airport."

"That's the point; I want to have a chance to talk to her first. I think I can help prevent a lot of pain and hurt, and I want to prevent Darryl being caught in a nasty fight between the two women he loves."

"I'm not sure that stopping that cat fight is even possible. But if you think talking with her will help, I'll go along. I'll keep the secret."

Karl went on back to tell everyone the good news about the surgeon. Azalea seemed particularly moved by the gesture. "Courtney Archer must be a very compassionate woman to go to such trouble for a little Afghan girl. I hope I will get the chance to thank her in person."

Karl hesitated a moment while he wrestled one last time with his conscience. "I'm sure you'll have a chance," he replied.

He found he couldn't look directly in her eyes, but if she noticed, she didn't show it.

"Aren't Courtney and Jaclyn coming?" asked Darryl."

"Oh sure, they were making travel arrangements when I talked to them," Karl replied, thankful that he could get away with nothing worse than an incomplete truth.

"I was thinking about calling," said Darryl, "but perhaps waiting and talking in person would be better."

"Yes, probably for the best, all considered."

Karl was grateful that exhaustion prevented further conversation.

The Lake House, Tues., June 26

Courtney sought out Gaho. First she shared the good news that everyone had survived and was getting medical care. She explained about Nura's serious wound and how she was sending a specialist to help. It was obvious that she had more on her mind however.

"You're worried about meeting Azalea, aren't you?" asked Gaho.

"Yes, I am. This business has taught me how to deal with many types of people, and I'm usually confident; but I don't know how to deal with a superwoman. I don't think I've ever met anyone like her."

"In the recording business? I imagine not. I'm not sure I have either. But she's just a woman, flesh and blood like you. You're not the usual girl next door either. I think you'll find a way."

"You once taught me that a Lakota woman always fights for her man. How do I fight a woman who kills armed soldiers with her bare hands, and faces certain death rather than compromise her principles?"

"By remembering that fighting for your man doesn't necessarily mean physically, or even in a test of wills. Every woman has a weakness, some vulnerability somewhere. You must try to find hers."

"What might it be?"

"I'm sorry, Courtney; there are things even I can't see. You'll have to go meet her and discover that for yourself. I think you will have a lot in common. And I hope you will become friends, because no matter what happens, you both will always be a part of Darryl's life. It would be better to make a friend than create a life-long rival."

"I hadn't thought about that, but you're right. I already have too much history with him to not be in his life somehow. She has won her place there, too. If it's difficult to think about competing with her now, think how much worse if she forever remained the 'other-woman', always there for him in case our relationship ever falters. What woman could live like that? And yet, how do I make her a friend when we obviously want the same man?"

Gaho sat silently in thought before she spoke. "Just remember that sometimes the difference between an adversary and an ally is just in how you approach a person. I remember once a mother complaining that every time she made pies for the family or as gifts, her young son would get into them. She tried punishment; she tried hiding them, and she tried to guard them. No matter what she did, he managed to steal a pie. She was at her wits end. I told her that by trying to protect her pies from him, she had made being a thief a challenge. It was a challenge that any boy with all his sly tricks and boundless energy would win. Instead of making him a thief, she needed to make him a guardian. I told her that the solution was to go home and make him responsible for protecting the pies. Turn his boyish enthusiasm to guarding the very thing he had previously stolen. She never lost another pie. Try to see if Azalea is willing to be a friend before you make her an enemy. "

"I hope I can. It's as though I finally realized what he really meant to me, only to see him taken by another, and I have no one to blame but myself."

Flughafen Bern-Belp, Wednesday, June 27

The Gulfstream IV executive jet touched down at the Bern Airport and taxied over to a hardstand where two Mercedes were waiting. It came to stop, and the three passengers dismounted; Dr. Snider from St. Jude, Courtney and Jaclyn. Courtney was disappointed to see that Karl and Cheryl Woodson seemed to make up the only welcoming committee. That is, she was disappointed that Darryl hadn't bothered to show up. The luggage was transferred, and Karl directed Dr. Snider and Jaclyn to one Mercedes. Courtney started to follow, when Cheryl took her arm. "You and I will be riding in the other car; it'll give us a chance for a little girl talk."

Sensing that it was more than a casual invitation, Courtney nodded her acceptance and took her seat in the limousine.

"Didn't anyone else... I mean... I'm surprised Darryl wasn't here to meet us," Courtney said.

Cheryl laughed gently. "Yes, I suppose you are. Don't worry, he hasn't forgotten you. Darryl isn't here to meet you simply because he doesn't know you are here yet. I made sure he didn't know."

"But why?"

"I thought it was important that we have a little chat before you saw him. Now you don't even know me, and you can tell me to butt the hell out of your personal business, but there are two very good reasons why you shouldn't."

"And those would be... ?"

"First, I don't suppose that you've heard, but it turns out that James McNichol is Darryl's biological father."

"That's not possible; I met his father and mother years ago, one summer at the Lake House."

"It's more than possible; it's true. The man you met was not Darryl's biological father, and only he and Darryl's mother knew the truth. James didn't find out until very recently, and Darryl found out when we were in the cave. It's a rather amazing story, and I'll leave it to them to tell, but for now, accept it as true. Also you may not have heard that in a matter of weeks James and I are getting married, so I'm going to be Darryl's stepmother. I guess that's one reason you should hear me out."

Courtney just stared in shock for a moment before finding her voice again. "And the other reason?"

"The other reason is far more important. Now I'm not one to beat around the bush, so I'm going to come right out with it, and this conversation will work better if you are as honest and forthright with me. The biggest reason you are here is to try and find a way to get Darryl back from Azalea."

"Who said I'm here for any such reason? Or that I have to take him back from her? Are you so sure she's 'got' him in the first place?"

"Courtney, Courtney, I told you I'm not one for pussy-footing around. If I'm wrong and you're not here to win your man back, then we'll just sit back and enjoy the beautiful scenery of the Bernese Oberland. Is that what you want?"

"No," replied Courtney in a much meeker voice. "Please, you're right. I want him back desperately, and I'm not sure that's even possible, and I'm not sure I deserve him."

"I thought so, and as far as to whether or not Azalea has his heart in her pretty little hand, wake up and smell the coffee, dear. Even though their relationship hasn't gone very far at this point, that boy is seriously in love with her. Who can blame him, she is as beautiful and remarkable a woman as ever walked this earth. And she has equally strong feelings towards him."

Courtney slumped in her seat. "Then I'm too late; I have no chance?"

"If that were the case, I wouldn't be wasting our time here. He also is also still very much in love with you. I can see it in the way he talks about you, and I'm sure you've never been far from his thoughts. If it were humanly possible, I suspect he would try to keep you both. He is a very troubled young man right now, one very much torn between two choices. Choices he doesn't want to make because each one hurts someone he cares for deeply and hurts himself in the process. Making a decision is going to tear him apart, and I don't want that to happen. I love that boy, too, and I'll prevent it if I can."

"How?"

"I think I can tell you how to win him back in a way that no one, not even Azalea is hurt. My problem is deciding whether I should. If I help you, how do I know I've helped the right person? How do I know you won't just discard him again like you did before?"

"Please Cheryl, believe me, I've changed and grown since then. I had to rebuild my entire life after my father destroyed it. I had no one to help me. It's not easy to give up all that independence and commit to a relationship 100%. I screwed up badly, but then I saw that everything I had built was useless without having him to share it with. I'm ready to make any sacrifice, to do anything to have him back in my life."

"That all sounds great. But Courtney, people don't really change overnight. What happened to make you so different that you really think that you can make your relationship work for a lifetime? Before, the two of you couldn't make it last a year."

Courtney sat back and thought quietly for several minutes, as the sleek Mercedes rolled deeper into the Alps. Finally she turned back to Cheryl who had patiently waited.

"What has happened to me is so incredible, I'm not sure if you will even find it believable. My entire universe has been profoundly changed. I've experienced things that are so mysterious and miraculous that I sometimes have trouble believing them myself. I want to show you something." She reached into her purse and took out a folded piece of paper which she handed to Cheryl.

Cheryl unfolded it and studied it for a moment. "Well, it's a very good drawing of Nura playing her oud. Karl said that they recovered some of the film from Darryl's camera; is this made from one of those?"

"No, this is a drawing I made from a dream I had days before any of you even reached Nura's village. It's how I knew to have Darryl's song released world-wide. It was to get the song into her hands, because the dream said that if I did, it would save his life. And apparently it worked."

Cheryl stared at the picture as though seeing a ghost. "You saw this in a dream? OK, that definitely gets my curiosity working. I want the whole story. Don't hold anything back. You worry about the telling, and I'll take care of the believing."

"It will take a while."

"Honey, you take as long as you need. There's a café up ahead that has a delightful wine list and a nice selection of cheeses. You and I are going to grab the table with the best view, order a nice Riesling and cheese plate. And we will stay there until you've told me everything. I've spent my whole career tracking down what I thought were remarkable stories. But nothing has ever intrigued me like that drawing."

They found the café almost deserted, so they had their choice of tables. The wine and cheese were as good as Cheryl had promised.

Courtney took a deep breath and began her story.

"After Darryl left my whole world starting coming apart. I couldn't sing or write and we had to cancel concerts, I was falling deeper and deeper into a hole and had to find a way to get myself out. My friend Jaclyn suggested a vision quest with her mentor from the Lakota Sioux tribe where she had been partially raised. That's how I met Gaho, the woman who saved me."

Courtney went on to tell Cheryl about the Lakota tribe and her vision quest. She told her about her animal spirit guide, the wolf, who taught her what a mate really was. She finished with the story of using a song to save Darryl, and her vision of the cave that lead to their eventual rescue. Several hours flew by, but to Cheryl, it seemed like mere seconds, so fascinated was she with the whole incredible tale.

At the end Cheryl reached across the table and took Courtney's hands. "Honey, I can't pretend that I understand any of this. Who could? But I do understand that it is apparent that you and Daryl have a spiritual connection beyond anything I ever dreamed could exist. I will do everything in my power to help preserve it. It's time we were on our way, but we will spend our time discussing strategy."

The car was hardly in motion before an excited Courtney asked, "So how do I fight and win back Darryl?"

"You can win back Darryl by NOT fighting. By stepping aside and giving Darryl and Azalea a completely free rein to explore their relationship, you will inevitably win."

"Are you completely nuts? That's your sure-fired method? Just walk away and say have fun, kids? How exactly does that win Darryl back? It sounds more like wrapping him up in a bow and giving him to her"

Cheryl laughed. "I know it sounds nuts. But hear me out, and I think it'll make more sense. James and I both spent all that time with her, and we agree that her greatest strength, and her one vulnerability, is her sense of honor. It's the most important thing to her, more so than even her life. It was to preserve her honor that she faced death without flinching. Sure, she killed that guard because he was trying to rape her; but the reason she mutilated him was because he had insulted her honor by calling her a whore. Azalea lives and dies by her sense of honor. It would be completely impossible for her to take Darryl for herself if by so doing she was destroying another woman's relationship. That would be no better than stealing.

If you make her your adversary by fighting her for him, her honor will require her to win, at any cost. If it comes to that, don't doubt me, she WILL win. You must understand that. You'd be competing with a woman who loves him heart and soul and held his hand in the face of a firing squad. Faced any firing squads to prove your love lately?

Courtney sat back a moment to digest the thought, "I take your point. But what about Darryl? What's his role in all this? Isn't it just possible he would choose me? We have a long history?"

"Darryl? What's he got to say about it?" Cheryl snorted derisively. "Look, I think the world of Darryl, but he's just a man. That means he doesn't really have a clue about what's happening or what to do. He wants you both. If forced to choose, there is no telling what he'll do. I think leaving it up to him is to leave it up to random chance and probably destroy him in the process. No, I think it needs to done as it always has; the women will work it out, and Darryl will think it was all his idea."

"So that's what you believe? The only way I can win Darryl back is to not compete at all?"

"That's it. That's my advice. Now of course you must decide whether or not you trust me enough to act on it. It'll be hard because walking away from the fight will feel completely wrong. James doesn't believe you can do it. He may be right, but still we both felt we would have to do our best to head off an emotional blood-bath that would hurt everyone. I've said my piece. Whatever you decide, I wish you well."

Grindelwald, in the Bernese Oberland, Switzerland, Wednesday, June 27

By this time they were passing through Interlaken. It was impossible to ignore the beauty of this unique resort tucked between the Lakes of Thun and Brienz and at the foot of a famous trio of peaks, the Eiger, the Mönch and the Jungfrau. From there the road traveled upward to the resort community of Grindelwald. Here in the breathtaking green valley surrounded by massive snow capped mountains, they pulled up at what would have passed for one of the many small resort chalets. This particular one housed a small but very exclusive private clinic.

Courtney got out and started into the main lobby. Almost immediately, the striking figure of one of the most beautiful women she had ever seen took her arm and pulled her into a room that looked like a library.

"Please, Ms Archer. My name is Azalea Durrani, and I beg a moment of your time. I wish to talk to you before you talk to Darryl, if you will be so kind."

"I recognized you immediately, but your beauty is even more spectacular in person. Yes, I would like for us to talk, but please, call me Courtney."

"Thank you, and Courtney it will be, if you wish it. First, I must thank you for all you have done on behalf of Nura. Especially for obtaining the services of a great surgeon. He's with Nura now. Courtney, may I speak directly, woman to woman?"

"Yes, please do, and I promise to do so as well. I hope we will be friends, and friends speak honestly to each other."

"That is my wish as well. I doubt that you are aware, but I have applied to be Nura's legal guardian, pending news of her father. I'm sure she will need medical care for some time. In addition, she will need a home and education. My family has considerable wealth in Afghanistan, but I'm not sure if it will still be available to me. I am trained as a nurse and will get a job as soon as possible. But for now I will need to rely on your generosity. Nura has to be my highest priority. I pledged to her father on my personal honor to take care of her as though she were my own. I want to remove any possible source of friction between you and me that might affect Nura's future. Do I make myself clear?"

"I understand perfectly," replied Courtney, not unkindly. "You are telling me you will give up any claim on Darryl, despite your feelings towards him; in order to protect Nura's future. Is that about it?"

Azalea blushed and cast her eyes downward. "I might not have put it quite that bluntly, but yes, that's about it."

Courtney took Azalea's hands and gently led her over to a couch. "You just told me something about yourself; that you would make any sacrifice for Nura's wellbeing. Now, I'll tell you something about myself. I would never make that wonderful child a pawn, even to gain my fondest wish. Both of you are welcome to be my guests at Lake House for as long as you wish. I personally guarantee that her every need will be taken care of. And these promises have no connection to anything that happens between us, as far as Darryl is concerned."

"You are very kind; I am in your debt."

"Not at all, friends share with friends. And besides, you and Nura saved Darryl's life, probably more than once. How do I thank you for that? I consider that a debt I could never adequately repay."

"Courtney, I am not going to pretend to you that I don't have feelings towards Darryl. I do want you to know that I never acted on them. Darryl and I have never made love."

"Well, I don't know any reason you shouldn't have. Darryl and I parted without any strings or commitments. I have no claim on him. I regret that I let him go more than anything I have done in my life. I now realize that I may have thrown away my only hope for happiness. But, whatever my regrets, he was free to do whatever he wanted. He still is, unless he chooses to come back to me."

"I'm still a virgin, Courtney; I probably will remain one until I'm married."

"Well don't let that keep you from having fun. I'll tell you something just between us, girl to girl. Darryl and I dated for years without me losing my virginity. We had a lot of fun in bed anyway. Darryl is very, very good at making a girl feel really great, in ways that don't cost you your virginity."

Azalea blushed, "I'm not used to speaking so freely of such things. I'm embarrassed."

"I'm sorry. But keep it in mind anyway. Now should we go find Darryl?"

"Yes but first, tell me why you're being so friendly and open about him?"

"Because we are both going to be part of Darryl's life, no matter what; we need to be friends. Otherwise we will spend our lives watching each other and not trusting each other."

They were interrupted by a knock on the door. It was Darryl, who seemed surprised to see the two of them chatting so cozily on the coach.

Courtney couldn't help herself, she jumped up and threw her arms around his neck, sobbing into his shoulder, "Darryl, I'm so glad you're safe. I was so worried about you. Don't ever put yourself in that kind of danger again."

After a moment she regained her composure and gave him a kiss on the cheek, whispering, "We've been getting acquainted, she is truly gorgeous and a wonderful person as well."

"Ah Courtney... I guess we need to talk."

"Yes we will. But right now let's go see how the patients are doing. Will you join us, Azalea?"

They went first to James' room. He was now sitting in a wheel chair with Cheryl in close attendance and Jaclyn and Karl visiting as well.

"Mr. McNichol, it's wonderful to see you up and about," Courtney said, "Cheryl told me the news about you and Darryl. I am totally stunned. I had known Darryl's parents, or so I thought, from years ago when they brought Darryl to the lake."

"You did meet Darryl's parents. They raised him. It turns out that I was the genetic donor, unknown to myself. I would never pretend to replace his dad, but I am proud and happy to serve as his second father. Not a big change, as I was always a devoted godfather."

"It makes me all the happier that you escaped as well. You had been given up for dead."

"And I am finding out that we have you to thank for our rescue. I appreciate all you have done on our behalf; including this excellent clinic in which to recover. It has to be one of the loveliest spots on earth. I would be out hiking now if I were able."

"And," interjected Cheryl, "according to the doctor, it won't be that long. He was already up on crutches for a while today."

The smiling face of Dr. Snider appeared at the door. "Excellent, I've managed to catch you all together. I know you are anxious to hear the results on our young patient."

Azalea turned to him with anxious eyes. "Yes, please, can you tell us, will she recover? And will she sing again?"

"Let me begin by saying that her condition is very nearly miraculous. When they told me that I would be treating an eleven—year-old girl who had been hit in the neck with an AK-47, I could hardly believe she was even alive, much less not paralyzed. You see, the neck is pretty much made up of vital arteries and veins and the spinal column and not much else except a relatively small mass of muscles to support and move the head. A bullet wound almost invariably will result in death from massive bleeding or paralysis. In her case the bullet entered through the rear, near the shoulder, wrecking havoc on the trapezius muscle but managing to just miss the anterior jugular vein. The muscle damage is extensive, but reparable, and she should recover with possibly a very small loss of neck motion."

"And her voice?" Azalea inquired.

"As far as I can tell from the x-rays and MRI they've already taken here, there is no trauma or nerve damage that would grossly impact her voice. She certainly will be able to talk and in time, to sing as well. Whether she will recover the exact singing voice from before her wound... that is tougher to say with certainty. The voice is a delicate instrument, and while the wound doesn't directly involve her vocal cords, some minor nerve damage or secondary trauma could have an effect. I am optimistic, but it will be six months at least before we will know for sure. In any case the sooner the damage is repaired, the better her chances of a complete recovery. I plan to operate just as soon as she has been prepared for surgery. That is, of course, with your permission, Azalea, as her acting guardian."

"So soon, after such a long trip, Dr. Snider? Would it be better to let you rest first?"

"An excellent question, and one you should ask. My experience as a combat surgeon taught me to manage odd hours and to develop the knack of sleeping whenever I can. I actually slept on the airplane and am now feeling quite rested and ready to work."

"In that case, Dr. Snider, please go ahead with my blessing and my prayers."

'Thank you, Azalea, I accept both, but I want a bit more from you. I am aware of your excellent background as a trauma nurse. I would like for you to scrub and assist me, if you are willing. The nursing staff here is quite capable, but none have your special training. I also suspect you would prefer getting involved to pacing the floor of a waiting room."

Azalea laughed, "You seem to know me well, Dr. Snider; of course I accept."

"Then you and I need to go and discuss the surgery and see to our patient. The rest of you need to find some way to occupy yourselves for the next three or four hours. I doubt that we will have any news for you before then."

The two of them were gone in an instant. The rest of the party looked around at each other. Cheryl took the initiative. "Unless someone has a better idea, I suggest we go get an early dinner at the restaurant just down the street towards the town. They have a patio with an excellent view of the scenery. They also have superb food, especially German dishes. The staff here can reach us in a moment if we are needed."

"I second that," said Karl enthusiastically, "their Jagerschnitzel is second to none, and who should know better than I. Besides, for the first time we have together people who experienced this story from Afghanistan, back home and with the rescue party. I want to hear it all put together for the first time. I think all of us are in for some surprises."

Karl's predictions, both about the food and about the surprises turned out to be true. Darryl heard for the first time the extraordinary story of how the song got into Nura's hands just in time to keep him off the fatal helicopter flight.

Courtney heard for the first time, how it felt in those horrible moments when they stood before the firing squad and knew that was the exact moment when she was devastated with pain and fear half a world away. Darryl looked at her with a new appreciation for the bond they shared.

Karl learned for the first time how the rescue party unknowingly flew just feet above the very people they were there to rescue.

They also listened while Courtney briefly told the incredible story of her Dream Quest and the visits from the wolf. They might have found the story impossible to believe except for the concrete evidence that these mysterious events led directly to their escape.

Fortunately, it is the tradition in Europe that a restaurant table is yours for as long as you wish. Hours passed, while the whole fabric of events was painstakingly woven together. By the time they returned to the clinic, they had only a short wait before Dr. Snider came to them.

"I'm happy to say that the surgery went extremely well. I have every expectation that her recovery will be complete, and I see no reason why she couldn't sing again as she sung before. If her recovery is uneventful, I'll leave tomorrow knowing that she is in good hands here. Azalea is with her now. I'm going to rest so I can relieve her later."

After accepting a round of thanks from everyone, Dr. Snider said his good nights and went to his room. The rest starting breaking into couples: Cheryl left with James; Karl and Jaclyn took the first opportunity to go off on their own; leaving Darryl and Courtney alone for the first time. Darryl seemed at a loss.

"Come on, Darryl," Courtney said gently, "This is just me, and we've known each other since we were eight. You should be able to talk to me. Let's take a walk to enjoy the view, and find a nice quiet spot to chat."

She took his hand and led him towards the door. They walked wordlessly to a bench that overlooked the entire valley, now lit by the last of the setting sun. For a few minutes they sat taking in the view. Finally Courtney turned toward him, taking his hands and looking into his eyes. "OK, Darryl, we're not getting off this bench until you talk to me."

"I just don't know what to say."

"Well let's start with the truth; that's usually best. You want to tell me you have fallen in love with Azalea. I already know that, and I know she feels the same about you."

Darryl looked startled, "In love... well yes, I guess I am, but that's only half the problem."

"The other half being that you are still in love with me, and I am very much in love with you."

Darryl looked surprised again and bewildered. "How do you know all this? And why aren't you upset?"

"Darryl, you're a man. These things may be difficult for you to see and even harder to understand. You're out of your depth here. I'm a woman, and things like this are very obvious to me. I knew you were in love with Azalea before I even got here. Talking with her confirmed her feelings towards you. Why am I not upset? I suppose in a way I am. I'm selfish enough to wish you were as anxious to come back to me as I am to have you come back. But I know when we broke up, it was largely my fault; and I gave up any claim I had on you by acting the way I did."

"Our breakup seemed inevitable; I blame circumstances, not you. Our lives had just gone in different directions."

"No Darryl, you are being kind, but the problem was not my life. The problem was my selfish unwillingness to change my life, to really make room for you."

"You have your career, and it is the most important thing in your life. I understand. I wouldn't ask you to change. I did that once, and we both know what came of that."

"I admit it, I thought my career was the most important thing in my life, until you left, and it all turned to shit. I realize now that without you to share it with, it doesn't mean very much at all."

"You have changed, haven't you?"

"Yes Darryl, I've changed and grown, more than you can imagine. And yet, I know it may be too little, too late. I have a rival now, and she is a truly incredible woman; intelligent, strong, incredible strength of character and beautiful to boot. Any man would be drawn to her."

"I expected you to resent her, and me for caring about her."

"How can I resent a woman for wanting no more than I want for myself? I like her very much. I know that she will always be a part of your life, no matter what. After what you've gone through together, how could it be different? I want to be, and I think I can be her friend. I have invited her and Nura to come live at Lake House for as long as they want."

"And that invitation is open even if I were to choose her over you?"

"Yes, it is. Azalea asked me if her relationship with you could possibly affect what I am doing to help Nura. I will answer you the same way as I answered her. My relationship with them and my treatment of Nura have nothing to do with our relationship, whatever it turns out to be. I don't use people or people's feelings as weapons. I want you back Darryl, very much. But I want you to come back because you want me. Not as a result of blackmail or coercion."

"Courtney, the truth is I do want you," Darryl said. "I've loved you for most of my life. Even when we broke up, I was hurt and angry, but I still loved you. That's why I tried to get so far away, to try and get over you, but I never did. The problem is that I also have strong feelings for Azalea. She and I have never had the chance to find out if it's really serious. We've never made love; did Azalea tell you that?"

"Yes she did. I told her she shouldn't have abstained for my sake. I have no right to claim exclusivity. In fact I think you two need to do exactly that, and the sooner the better."

Darryl stared at her as though she had grown a third head. "What the hell are you saying? That you want me to sleep with her?"

"If that's what it takes; yes! You need to explore your feelings with Azalea and see where it leads. If you don't, there will always be doubt. I couldn't spend a lifetime with you if you are always wondering what might have been. No, you have to find out so you'll know that there is no one else. Or so you'll be with the right person, if that's the way it turns out."

"What exactly are you suggesting Courtney?"

"Suggesting? No, make it stronger than that; I'm telling you. I want you to stay here with Azalea and do whatever you have to do to make a decision. It's the only fair thing for both Azalea and me."

"And would I still be welcome at Lake House, no matter what I decide?"

"Yes Darryl, above all I want you in my life. As my friend, if that's all I can have. As my life's partner, if you wish. Either way I want you back. Just one condition."

"That is?"

"I will welcome you back as my friend or as my husband, but I don't want you back until you decide which it is going to be. We have hurt each other too much already by not being quite ready to commit completely. When I see you next, I want you to either be ready to marry me, or to tell me that we can never be anything but friends."

"That pretty well draws a line in the sand."

"Yes, I'm afraid it does, but that is how it must be, for everyone's sake."



-------

Chapter 20: Eenie, Meenie, Minie, Moe



Nothing is more difficult, and therefore more precious, than to be able to decide.
Napoleon Bonaparte

Grindelwald, in the Bernese Oberland, Switzerland, Thursday, June 28

Darryl and Courtney

If you love somebody, let them go, for if they return, they were always yours. And if they don't, they never were.

Kahlil Gibran



"I will welcome you back as my friend or as my spouse," said Courtney. "But I don't want you back until you decide which it is going to be. We have hurt each other too much already by not being quite ready to commit completely. When I see you next, I want you to either be ready to propose, or to tell me that we can never be anything but friends."

"That pretty well draws a line in the sand," replied Darryl.

"Yes, I'm afraid it does, but that is how it must be, for everyone's sake."

Darryl's face dropped to the ground. "You're right, of course. I don't like it but I know you're right. I just don't know how I'll do it."

Courtney put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong?" she cajoled, "Were you hoping to keep us both?"

"Is that possible?" he asked hopefully.

"No... No, that's not possible I'm afraid. Oh, it did cross my mind, as an alternative to losing you completely. You know, like plea bargaining for a life sentence to escape the death penalty. You don't like what you're accepting, but you're avoiding something far worse. But I realized it wouldn't work for me, even if Azalea were willing, which I doubt."

"Why wouldn't it work for you? Just out of curiosity; I never really thought you would go for sharing."

"It's me. I'm just too jealous and insecure. You know they say most entertainers perform because they NEED the applause to constantly reassure them that they are loved. I'm just not secure enough to even consider having to compete with Azalea for your affection every day for the rest of my life. That and simple jealousy. I just can't bear the thought of you being with another woman. I certainly wouldn't want to sit there watching it."

"But then, what about Azalea and me?... Here... you know... I mean, you're the one who suggested it."

"You mean, how am I going to deal with the thought of you and Azalea after I leave? To be honest, probably not well. I'll just try not to think about it very much, but I'll still be pretty miserable."

"But it was your idea that I spend time with her. I don't like to think I'm doing something to hurt you."

"You're doing it to help end this miserable situation," she said heatedly. "God damn it, Darryl, do I look like I'm enjoying this? She paused to get her emotions back under control. Then she continued in a much softer, somewhat sad voice. "You see why it can't go on this way with the constant jealousy and anger?

Yes, I know it can't go on this way, not really. It's just been a way of avoiding making a choice."

"What's so awful about your choice? I think you're pretty damn lucky. You can't lose. Either way, in my opinion, you wind up with a pretty damn special woman. It's one of us women who ends up alone."

"That's what makes it so hard. Don't you think I realize how lucky I am? Both you and Azalea are the kind of women most men only dream of. I know that either of you could make me very happy. You're both more than I deserve. It's knowing that no matter what I do, I am going to hurt someone. And neither of you have done anything to deserve it. How did I ever get into such a mess? How do you hurt someone you love?"

Courtney took her hand and lifted his face back up to where she could look into his eyes. "Darryl, listen to me. I know it won't be easy. But I also know you will do the right thing. If I am the one who gets left behind, it will hurt; it will hurt a lot, but I will still know that you've made the right decision for you, for Azalea and for me. I trust you."

A tear formed in the corner of his eye and ran down his cheek unnoticed. "Courtney, listen to us. We're together again after almost losing each other forever. Why are we talking about hurting you, when what I really want is to take you in my arms and kiss you?"

"What's stopping you?" She whispered, as she offered her lips.

Darryl leaned in and kissed her gently and cautiously, as though unsure of his welcome. Courtney took both hands and pulled him to her, until their lips were almost painfully mashed together. The contact was electric, as months of fear and longing came pouring out. Soft lips and eager tongues brought out strong familiar feelings, and their breathing became rapid. Fingers that started entangled in hair were soon touching, grasping, reaching for warmth. She took his hand and pulled it to her breast, the soft mound aching to be touched. His touch spread warmth throughout her, until soon she felt a familiar tingling and wetness between her legs. She moaned into his mouth as her body cried out for the release and comfort so long denied her. His body echoed the hunger with an erection that was almost painful in its intensity. His labored breathing, and frantic kisses on her neck and shoulders announced his need. The sheer intensity threatened to overwhelm her, so Courtney broke the kiss and pushed him back enough to speak.

"Oh God, Darryl, I've missed you so. I love you, I need you, and I want you. Please do whatever you must, but come back to me as soon as you can my love, and I will never let you go again."

Darryl looked at her as though he had never seen her before. "I can't believe I ever left you. Nothing we fought about was worth losing this. Just being close to you drives me out of my mind. I don't think I've ever wanted someone as badly as I want you right now. Please, Courtney, may I come to you tonight."

She let go of him and sat back on the bench, looking up as though for strength, but now with tears in her eyes and on her cheeks. She couldn't look him in the eyes.

"Darryl, since that awful day when you left, I have dreamed every night of hearing those words. And believe me when I say that I want you so much I ache. My body cries out for your love." She managed to give him a weak smile. "Damn, if I were any wetter, I'd slide right off this bench." She reached out and grabbed his hand before continuing. "So believe me when I tell you that saying no to you is the hardest thing I've ever done. I think spending the night with you would just make things more difficult. I know it would make it harder on me if you don't come back. I suspect it would make it harder on you as well. I also think it would be unfair to Azalea."

"Whatever happened to 'all's fair in love and war'?" he asked ruefully.

"I really want to be her friend, and it's not the type of thing friends do to each other."

"But how is it different from me sleeping with her, as you have hinted we should do?"

"Still trying to understand the working of the female mind, aren't you?" Courtney laughed mirthlessly. "It's different because you and Azalea have never had the chance to experience each other physically, while we have... many wonderful times. What's more important, I don't plan be here to see it. How would she feel knowing we were together a few rooms away? And she would know; women always know these things."

They held hands as they walked back to the chalet, and he saw her to her room. She grabbed him for one quick, burning kiss and immediately turned and closed the door. As she leaned back against the door and tried to catch her breath, her mind told her she had done the right thing, but her heart and her body were screaming NO, DON'T LET HIM GO!

She undressed and examined herself in the mirror, happy with what she saw. 'I'm no teenager, ' she thought, 'but all that exercise and healthy eating have been worth it.' Her stomach was flat, her breasts firm with almost no sag, and her perky nipples still pointed jauntily up. Her hips were slightly wider, but so far her ass was still nice and round; not the squared off look of many women her age. Her hand wandered down to her still inflamed labia, and she was still surprised by just how soaked she was. She knew sleep would elude her unless she found some release. Even then, the thought of what she'd just turned down was going to make rest hard to come by.

She wondered if the bathroom would be equipped with one of those delightful European hand showers. A quick inspection determined that it was. She drew a hot tub scented with a delightful alpine flower bath tea. As she bathed she felt the urge to feed the hunger of her loins. Her body cried out to be touched, if not by him, then by her own hand. She cupped her breasts and felt as though her nipples were on fire. She started to gently rub them but quickly graduated to an almost violent twisting and pulling. She realized that Darryl would never treat them so roughly for fear of hurting her, but in her own hands pain and unbearable pleasure were indistinguishable. Unmistakably, the sensitivity of her nipples was hard wired to her groin, which also cried out for attention. She rubbed tentatively between her legs but knew immediately that it wouldn't be enough. Finishing her bath she drained the water and as the level dropped she knelt in the tub and took the hand shower. Setting it for the hardest pulsating massage spray, she aimed it directly at her pussy. It was like a hundred tiny fingers rubbing her all at once, crossing her clitoris at random intervals; each pulse caused her to gasp as it drove her excitement higher and higher. She soon was lost in a wonderful whirl of sensation with her entire world focused on nothing but the throbs of pleasure driving her inexorably towards a climax like the jerking chain pulling a roller coaster car closer and closer to the top. You know what's coming but not exactly when, and you face it with a mixture of fear and anticipation. She felt herself pulled closer and closer to the precipice, until suddenly in that moment of no motion as she teetered on the brink, she realized just how high she was and how far she was about to fall. 'Oh God, ' she thought, 'this is going to be a big one, a very big one.' And then she was over the top and falling out of control, gasping in pleasure, as spasms wracked her whole body. She felt the world going black and dropped the shower to grab the edges of the tub. But the moment passed, and she trembled as warm waves of aftershock rolled through her.

When she was finally able to stand, she dried herself tenderly with the extravagantly thick towels and snuggled into the equally thick and soft spa robe. She lay on the bed, expecting to bask in a satiated glow. But she found herself still hungry for the touch of his strong masculine hands. She longed for the feeling of his hardness inside her, filling her and making her complete again as his woman. 'Fuck fairness, ' she thought, 'I need him, and Azalea can just wait her turn.' She pulled out a gown she had brought just in case. It was white and flowing with the clinging grace of a Hollywood glamour shot from the 1930s. She covered it with an elegant kimono and herself with a fabulously expensive Parisian perfume spiked with just a touch of pheromones. She slipped out the door into the corridor... and then realized that she had no idea which room was Darryl's. Nor was she quite prepared to approach the concierge to ask. It was that, or beat a hasty retreat back to her room. Or, she thought, 'I could look in on Nura.'

In the clinical wing, she found the duty nurse who escorted her to Nura's room. The girl was still hooked up to monitors and IV lines but seemed to be sleeping comfortably. Azalea was at her bedside and looked surprised, but happy to see her. She invited Courtney to join her, and for a while they both just sat quietly watching the young girl sleep.

"How is she?" asked Courtney quietly.

"She has done amazingly well. She is young and very strong, and she has an unbeatable will to recover. Stay awhile, and she will probably wake up. I know she'd like to meet you."

"I'd like that. I plan to leave in the morning, and I would hate to leave without meeting her first."

"So soon? I thought you would be here longer. You and Darryl must have much to talk about. You've been apart so long." Azalea hesitated. "I thought perhaps the two of you might... ah, want some time together tonight."

"Oh I was tempted, believe me. But I just thought it might make things tougher for all of us. You understand?"

Azalea nodded. "I think so, but I hope you aren't staying away from him on my account. I wouldn't want you to do that."

"No, I mostly did it for my own benefit. It would just be that much harder if he doesn't come back to me."

Azalea looked down. "I have no desire to take Darryl away from you, or to cause you pain," she said quietly.

Courtney reached out and took her hand. "I know that. None of us wanted things to get this complicated. But our hearts are not always ours to command. It just happened, and we must deal with it. I'm sure it will work out for the best."

They sat quietly together for awhile, like old friends. Then Azalea spoke. "I have to say, your kimono and gown are lovely; you are truly beautiful. And I love your perfume though I don't recognize it. I think Darryl would find you quite irresistible tonight." Unspoken but clear was the question of why she would dress this way just to visit Nura.

"The perfume is custom made for me by a small perfumery in Paris. I'm quite fond of it." Courtney hesitated but decided to make a clean confession. "And you're right; I'm dressed this way because I weakened. I was out in the corridor before I realized that I had no idea which room was his, and I could hardly go up and down the hallway tapping on doors. So I came visiting instead."

"Courtney, I can tell you where Darryl's room is." She blushed. 'That doesn't sound very good does it but... I mean..."

Courtney laughed. "I know what you mean, Azalea. Let's be honest. We both wish we were there, but we're not. And for tonight, my moment of weakness has passed, and I've regained my resolve. I won't be needing directions. Besides, I'm quite content to spend this time getting to know you and Nura."

"I know that Darryl would be quite disappointed, especially if he could see you now."

In point of fact, Darryl was disappointed. At that very moment, he was tapping gently on Courtney's door, hoping she would reconsider her earlier refusal. When she didn't answer, he decided she was either asleep, or was ignoring him and sticking to her guns. He sighed and returned to his room where sleep also refused to come to his bed.

Courtney and Azalea were chatting like long-lost friends. Courtney turned serious and asked, "May I get a professional opinion from you?"

"Of course, anything."

"Jaclyn and I had to choose this clinic very hastily, based solely on reputation. It is hard for me to judge. How would you rate the quality of care?"

"Absolutely first rate and state of the art. You chose very well."

"I'm glad."

"I also know what this caliber of private care costs. I am overwhelmed with your generosity and deeply in your debt. I think it is very wrong to repay you by causing you pain, I think I should..."

Courtney put her hand across Azaleas lips. "No, Azalea, don't even think that. If Darryl and you are truly in love and that love is better for him than what he has with me, then that is how it must be. If you back off now, I might get Darryl, but only with unanswered questions about what might have been. That is the last thing I want. Is it what you would want?"

"No, I understand. My grandmother told me that the only sure way to keep other women out of a man's arms was to keep them out of his mind. That's hard to do if he never got them out of his mind to begin with."

Courtney laughed. "It would seem that men are the same everywhere. In my country we have a saying: Men always want to be a woman's first love. We women just want to be sure we are a man's last love."

Azalea joined in her laughter, and the sound awakened Nura. She opened her eyes and immediately called Azalea's name in a hoarse whisper. After Azalea took her hand and said some soothing words in her own language, Nura relaxed and smiled. Azalea pulled Courtney to her bedside and said some more to her. Courtney caught her name and realized she was being introduced. Nura smiled and reached out for Courtney's hand pulling her closer. She turned to Azalea and whispered something, then looked at Courtney, waiting for a response with a huge grin.

"She's is thrilled to meet you," Azalea translated. "You are even more beautiful than she dreamed. She wants you to sing to her, to sing "the" song."

"Tell her I would love to. Ask her if I may play her oud, which I see in the corner."

Azalea laughed. "Wherever she goes, it goes with her."

Azalea asked the question, and Nura just beamed and nodded, at least as much as the mass of bandages around her neck would allow. Courtney lovingly picked up the beautiful instrument and took a minute to tune it.

"I've actually played an oud before but not very much. The oud, unlike a mandolin or guitar, has no frets, so the intervals are tricky. Tell her it is beautiful instrument, but not to expect too much in my unworthy hands."

Azalea told Nura, whose excitement seemed undiminished. Courtney placed the instrument across her lap and practiced picking out notes until she felt comfortable. Fortunately Courtney was an accomplished guitarist and mandolin player and gifted with perfect pitch. She quickly found her fingers responding smoothly. Despite the setting and the impromptu nature of the performance, she honestly felt she had never sung Song of Thanks better. Knowing that the song represented a very special connection between them, she sang to Nura from her heart. Her feelings expressed themselves in new verses composed as she sat there at Nura's bedside:

"There's a new little bird
Who has spread the word
And her voice will be heard
Thanks to you.

This little dove
With a voice from above
Has saved my true love.

Nura, thanks to you, too.

I will sing to you this song
To let you know you belong
Precious lives have been saved
Thanks to you."

When Courtney started singing the new verses, Nura looked puzzled until she recognized her name. Practically bursting with excitement she turned to Azalea for a translation. Azalea whispered into her ear. Nura's smile was a mile wide, and she whispered as loudly as she could, "Shaabaas! Shaabaas!

Courtney looked at Azalea who explained "It means Bravo! Nura gestured eagerly. "And that means she wants you to sing some more," Azalea added.

Courtney nodded and sang a brief medley of some of her recent songs. Gradually, the effects of the surgery and her medications took over, and Nura was having trouble keeping her eyes open. Courtney switched to a gentle lullaby, and in minutes, her young audience was sound asleep. She returned the oud to the corner, kissed the sleeping child on the forehead, and gave Azalea a silent hug before quietly slipping back to her room. Despite the hour she took a chance and called Jaclyn's room. A giggling breathless Jaclyn answered the phone, and it was obvious that she and Karl were NOT sleeping.

"Jaclyn, I've decided to leave in the morning to head back to Lake House."

"Is something wrong? Is it Darryl?"

"Yes and no. Nothing's wrong; it's more like the reunion got a little too intense. It's just better to give him a chance to sort things out. You're welcome to stay if you wish."

Courtney waited while Jaclyn and Karl held a quick whispered conference. "No, Courtney, we'll go with you. We'll see you at breakfast, and we'll be ready to leave."

"Thanks, Jaclyn, and thank Karl for me. Thank him real good, OK!"

"You're the boss!" Jaclyn giggled and hung up.

'God," thought Courtney, 'What have I done?' She sighed as she turned out the light and tried to cuddle up with a big feather pillow. The pillow just reminded her of what she was missing, what she really wanted to be cuddling, and she quietly cried herself to sleep.

The next morning, Courtney met Jaclyn and Karl for breakfast on the porch where they could watch the play of the delicate morning light on the peaks as it felt its way down into the valleys. The young lovers looked tired but happy, and Courtney gently teased them about their obvious lack of sleep.

"You didn't sleep well? Was the bed not comfortable, Jaclyn?"

"The mattress was a bit lumpy," she retorted, "and Karl was kind enough to volunteer to help pound them out. "You don't look all that well rested either. Did you have some company last night?"

"Well, in answer to your blatant nosiness, he offered, and I was tempted, but I thought it would make things even more complicated. Then later I changed my mind. I got all dolled up and opened the 'special' perfume, but when I got in the corridor I realized I didn't have the foggiest notion where to find his room. So I spent a pleasant evening with Azalea and Nura." She laughed ruefully at her misadventure. "It's probably a good thing I couldn't find him. But rather than face frustration any more, I decided to go home and wait for him there. Having Darryl on my mind and not in my bed, and yet so close made it impossible for me to get any sleep last night."

"Isn't that leaving the field wide open for Azalea?"

"Yes, it is. Listen, I know it sounds crazy, but I've decided that the best way to fight is not to fight at all."

"You're right, it does sound crazy. I hope to hell you know what you're doing, because I sure don't."

"I'll explain it later. Speak of the devil, here he comes now."

Darryl hurried over to the table, showing every sign of having rushed to get there. "I'm glad I caught you; I just found out you were leaving. I thought you'd be staying longer."

"It was a decision I made last night. But I wouldn't have left without saying goodbye."

Darryl still looked troubled. "Courtney, could I speak to you in private?"

"Have a seat Darryl," said Jaclyn, "Karl and I need to finish packing, don't we, Karl?" With that she practically dragged Karl out of his chair.

Darryl looked at her with pleading eyes. "I'm sorry, what I did was stupid, but I didn't mean to upset you. Please don't leave because of one dumb mistake. It won't happen again, I swear."

"Darryl my dear, I haven't got the slightest idea what you are talking about. I'm not leaving because of anything you did. I'm not even aware of your doing anything that would upset me. I just thought it better for everyone if I went home."

"I thought you were mad because I came to your room last night after you had already told me no. I'm sorry; I just missed you so."

Courtney laughed. "I would never have been angry at you for trying to change my mind. I'm rather flattered. I never heard you knock, because I wasn't in my room."

Darryl eyebrows rose in a question. "Oh, you weren't there?"

"I'll confess something, and let you off the hook. I had a weak moment myself and got as far as the corridor, before I realized I had no idea which room was yours. Rather than wake up the whole house, I settled for spending the evening serenading Nura. You must have come by while I was gone."

Darryl looked thoughtful for a moment. "Does that mean you would have let me in if you had been there?" he asked hopefully.

"Possibly... maybe... I really don't know. I realized it was a bad idea, even as I tried to find you. Maybe I would have come to my senses by then, maybe not. Anyway, I still think it's a bad idea, but if I stay here, it's going to happen sooner or later. That's the reason I'm leaving. It was just too hard sleeping alone with you so near."

"Are you so sure it's a bad idea? Maybe we should just trust our instincts. It's what we both want."

"No Darryl, it's what I crave. What I NEED is someone who is committed to me heart and soul. What I want is you, when you're sure that you want me and only me. Good bye for now, my love. You know where to find me when you're ready."

She gave him a quick but loving kiss and hurried away, before he could see the tears. After a quick round of good byes, they were gone, along with Dr. Snider. This left just Darryl and Azalea, James and Cheryl, and of course, little Nura. Dr. Snider thought that Nura would be ready to travel in about a week. About the same time was needed for James to be fully mobile. Darryl had one week to make the hardest decision he could ever imagine making in his life, and no good idea how to even go about starting to work it out. He decided that a good first step would be inviting Cheryl to brunch. Women seemed to understand these things so much better than men.

They took their seats in the small café and ordered espresso. Cheryl waited patiently for Darryl to get to the point, knowing full well why he wanted to talk to her. Darryl seemed tongue-tied, chatting pointlessly about nothing in particular.

"Darryl dear, it was sweet of you to take me to brunch. But I'm pretty sure it wasn't to talk about the lovely weather we're having. You're in need of some womanly advice, aren't you?"

Darryl blushed and nodded. "God yes, I really am. I'm totally clueless about what to do."

"No Darryl, not clueless, you're a man, although that sometimes amounts to the same thing. Let me guess. Courtney won't have anything to do with you until you make up your mind."

"Pretty much. She insists I spend this time developing a relationship with Azalea. She actually suggested that I sleep with her. I expected jealousy and anger, and instead she is practically pushing us together. Doesn't she care?"

"Oh, I think she cares very much. But the reality is you now have strong feelings for another woman. She knows that, and while she wants you with her, she doesn't want you to ever have doubts about where you should be or whom you should be with. You need to find out how serious your feelings towards Azalea are. To do that, you have to let your relationship develop, emotionally and possibly sexually."

"But Azalea and I have a relationship now. I already know how I feel about her."

"Not really, Darryl. You were together under anything but normal conditions. Hiding in caves, facing imminent death, fighting for your life... hardly the stuff of everyday life. People do and feel things under those conditions that may never have happened in their real lives. Shipboard romances and summer flings are examples of how relationships formed when we're away from our normal routine may not survive anywhere else. How you felt about her in Afghanistan may or may not reflect how the two of you will get along now. The best thing for you to do is forget all of that, and get reacquainted here and now. Spend time together, get to know each other, start with no expectations and then see what develops. It may be the love of your life, or it may just be a lifelong friendship."

"It's going to feel like an audition or test of some kind."

"Only if you let it. Forget about making choices for now. Just enjoy each other's company. You're together in one of the most beautiful spots on earth. Have some fun. By the end of the week, you'll know what to do."

Darryl and Azalea

"It is well to be happy and wise, and well to be honest and true; it is well to be off with the old love, before you are on with the new."

Anon

Darryl and Azalea began their courtship that afternoon with a long walk, climbing up to look back at the breathtaking beauty of the valley. As he feared, it was awkward and uncomfortable at first, as they both felt as though they were auditioning to be lovers. It was even worse when Azalea insisted that Darryl tell her the entire story of his relationship with Courtney. She made him cover everything, from the first kiss on the dock three decades ago, to the traumatic breakup. She showed no visible emotion as she listened, nor did she offer an explanation of her interest.

At the end she made her only comment. "You two have shared a long journey, and I do not think you have reached the end." With that she changed the subject and never mentioned it again.

In time, the magic of their surroundings and the pleasure they felt in each other's company removed the awkwardness, and they began to enjoy their time together. They sat next to each other for a while on the hillside. The towering rocky peaks, covered in snow, contrasted with the lush green valley. The sheer granite walls between the two were veiled by the mists of the many waterfalls cascading to the valley floor. It was, deservedly, one of the best known scenic vistas in Europe, standing out even among the many visual splendors of the Swiss Alps.

Darryl gently embraced her, and when her body willingly conformed to his, he kissed her. Their kiss was more warm than passionate, but thrilling in being their first, not tied to some life-threatening event. Azalea, raised in a very conservative culture which emphasized modesty and restraint for women, had little experience with men. Darryl wisely had decided to treat her with gentleness and patience, like a childhood sweetheart. In fact, most modern American high school girls had far more sexual experience than she. But having spent much of her adult life in the West and being a trained nurse, she was neither naïve nor ignorant about sex, merely inexperienced. She knew exactly what a physical relationship involved, and she entered into one with Darryl with her eyes wide open and a certain degree of eagerness.

When he extended his kiss to her neck and tentatively moved his hand to her breast, she gently stopped him. Without a hint of criticism in her voice, she said, "Please, Darryl, I have been raised to be modest, and while I welcome your touch, I feel uncomfortable in public. You must think me silly to be so shy, when there doesn't appear to be anyone who could see us, but this is all very new to me, and you'll need to be patient."

"I know, Azalea. I don't want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. Let's just walk and talk and hold hands, and enjoy this beautiful place and each other."

And that's what the pair did. They walked around the valley, stopping now and then to admire the scenery or talk or touch or kiss. They talked of their lives, their hopes and their dreams. They talked about college, about friends, about their jobs. They even made the other laugh with funny stories and jokes. They acted like a couple in love, who found all they needed in each other's company.

They continued their courtship over a quiet dinner at a nearby restaurant. Afterward, when he had walked her to her room, she shyly but hopefully invited him to return in two hours. While there was no mention of spending the night, the implication was clear. The reason for the two hour wait was simple. Azalea wanted to be ready for her first love. She used the time to take a long bath and relax. While she wished she had a gown as lovely as the one Courtney had worn, all she had was a much simpler one purchased at a local shop that morning, especially for this occasion. It would have to do. She complimented it with a touch of perfume Cheryl had loaned her. Finally she was ready: she sat, nervous but eager, and awaited his tap on the door.



-------

Chapter 21: And the Winner Is


Love isn't a decision. It's a feeling. If we could decide who we loved, it would be much simpler, but much less magical.

Trey Parker and Matt Stone, South Park, Chef Aid, 1998

Grindelwald, in the Bernese Oberland, Sw itzerland, Friday, June 29

Azalea answered the first knock, too excited and guileless to keep him waiting needlessly in the hall. When she opened the door, Darryl entered wearing a chef's hat and apron over his silk pajamas. He brought in a cart with two fondue pots, one filled with hot chocolate, the other hot oil, plus a selection of various fresh fruits and toppings. He pulled the cart up to the table and set out two plates and a selection of colorful fondue forks. He escorted her to her seat with the elegant ease of a Parisian maitre d'.

"Oh, Darryl," she laughed delightedly. "You always know how to make me smile. It is impossible to be sad when I'm with you. So what exotic treat do you have for us?"

"Have you ever had a chocolate dessert fondue? I persuaded the kitchen staff to help me make one up for us."

"No, never, but it looks wonderful. How do you do it?"

"Allow me to demonstrate. Take the fork, and choose a fruit." He artfully speared a piece of pineapple. "Then dip it in this bowl of crepe batter. Dip it in the hot oil, just long enough to get the crepe shell golden brown. Then dip it in the chocolate and get it coated. Take it out and slowly rotate the fork until the chocolate quits dripping. Then finish it off with your choice of toppings; let's see... I'll use a little confectioner's sugar and some coconut. Now open wide."

Azalea complied, and he held the fork out for her. She took a bite and beamed approvingly. "It's delicious. What a wonderful treat."

"And for a light refreshment," Darryl announced as he unveiled yet another serving dish, "Fresh melon."

"My favorite!" Azalea's delight was charmingly obvious in someone who had spent much of her life in a war zone. "And just the perfect touch to offset the heavier sweetness of the chocolate."

Darryl now walked back to the door and retrieved another cart from the hall. This one carried a selection of liquid refreshments, ranging from vintage champagne to hot tea, fresh mango juice to Coke.

"And now, beautiful lady, what can I get you for a beverage this evening? I can vouch for the freshness of the orange juice; squeezed it myself in the last hour. The coffee is the same that they serve in the Inn next door."

"May I be so bold as to inquire what the gentleman will be having?"

"The lady may. I was planning to have some Veuve Clicquot La Grande Dame Champagne; with your permission of course. If it would offend you for me to drink alcohol, I'm sorry, I didn't think."

Azalea laughed. "Relax, Darryl, I'm not offended; I was going to ask you if I could join you. I'd like to try it, too."

Darryl looked startled. "Well of course, if you want to... if you're sure. I just thought..."

Azalea couldn't help smiling at his confusion. "It's all right Darryl. You are right, of course; I should not drink alcohol. But being alone with a man whom I'm not related to is such a huge sin that I don't think a little champagne is going to matter."

"You mean that just being with me is a sin, even though all we've done is have a snack together."

"It is assumed that the only relationship possible between a man and a woman is lust; that given a chance, they will have sex. Mohammed said 'If a man and a woman are alone in one place, the third person present is the devil.' So you see, I'm already a ruined woman just for being here."

"Well, if you're condemned anyway, you might as well make it worth your while." It was obvious that Darryl regretted the words as quickly as they came out. "I'm sorry, Azalea, that was entirely inappropriate. It's hard for me to take such attitudes seriously, but I'm sure they are serious to you."

"Don't apologize, my love, you are right on both, but I've also spent many years in your culture and I understand why you see things the way you do. Now, I refuse to talk any more unless I have a glass of champagne in my hand and I'm fed chocolate treats on a regular basis."

Both wishes were quickly fulfilled, and the residue of chocolate on the lips was shared each time the lovers kissed.

Azalea signaled for a break. The champagne and the kisses were starting to go to her head. She wanted to finish their conversation first. "Earlier you said that these attitudes were strange to you but important to me. The truth is that they are important to me, because of how I was raised, and yet strange to me because I have been exposed to other ways of thinking. I feel caught between to worlds, and sometimes it's confusing and even painful. But I know that I prefer being with a man like you who treats me as an equal and not a possession."

Azalea paused for a minute and let her words sink in. She took a sip of the wine and reached out for his hand. Sensing that she had more to say, Darryl kept silent.

"You also made a joke about making it worthwhile being condemned. It's no joke. For me to be alone with you in my bedroom is a huge step. It condemns me as a whore in my own society. In my mind, it marks my first love as a woman." She blushed. "It's too big a commitment to not make it worthwhile. So as they say in your country, you play the game right, you're likely to get pretty lucky tonight sailor."

Darryl almost choked on his champagne, so unexpected was this last statement. Concerned, she rushed to his side and patted him on the back. "Are you all right?"

Cough, cough, gasp, "Yes, I'm fine; you just surprised me."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not!"

They ended up just hanging on to each other and laughing and laughing. Finding they like the closeness, she climbed onto his lap, and they resumed their chocolate party. It was more fun but also more awkward and chocolate started to splatter.

"This is fun, but too messy." I don't want to ruin my new gown with hot chocolate."

"Ah but that's the clever part of my nefarious ploy. At this point I suggest that the best way to avoid chocolate stains on your dress is to remove it. Then any drips can be cleaned up later in the shower... or licked off," he added slyly.

He had meant this mostly as a joke, but to his delight and amazement, Azalea nodded. "That seems a good idea, but only if you will join me."

"Azalea, you don't have to do this if you don't want to. I wasn't really serious."

"But I am. I'm pretty new at this, but I believe a love affair sooner or later requires us to remove our clothing. Now is as good as later; and before I lose my nerve. She grasped the hem of her gown and without ceremony pulled it over her head and off.

Darryl gasped; her figure was classical perfection in a rich tan complexion. Her breasts were perfect half globes barely concealed by a very sheer white camisole. Otherwise she wore only sheer white panties and white knee highs. The contrast between her black hair and the white lingerie over the flawless dusky skin made her almost unbearably beautiful to Darryl.

Separated by only two layers of very thin cloth, Darryl realized that she must be aware of his increasing excitement, since it was definitely poking her in the center of her lovely backside where she sat on his lap. If she did, her only acknowledgement was to wiggle her way to even more contact. The party continued, but kissing was becoming more and more the main point, and the chocolate just provided the excuse to kiss and lick even more. The champagne was also disappearing quickly, and although Darryl was undoubtedly drinking the lion's share, Azalea was feeling it far more. Also unaccustomed to being touched and caressed, she was getting very turned on.

Darryl found he had a lap full of squirming affection and need. She wanted to be touched and kissed just about everywhere, and in turn was driving him wild with nibbling on his neck.

"Oh, oh!" she announced, as what looked suspiciously like a staged spill got chocolate sauce on her camisole, "Maybe I better get this off as well."

His eyes confirmed what the sheer camisole had hinted. Her breasts were perfect firm half globes capped with large milk- chocolate colored nipples. Darryl hesitated, afraid to touch her. Azalea took his hands and placed them on her breasts. Then she took her hands and unbuttoned his pajama top. She removed it and caressed his chest, while he continued to fondle her nipples.

She dipped a cherry in the chocolate, and when he leaned forward to bite it, she touched it to the tip of his nose before feeding it to him. Then she leaned forward and playfully kissed away the spot. Darryl dipped his finger in the hot chocolate and marked her cheek which she then turned to him to clean. Then she dipped her finger and marked her ear and waited again for him to kiss away the sweetness. She moaned quietly as he did.

Then looking him directly in the eye, she took a finger full of chocolate and deposited it on her nipple. She sprinkled the confection with sugar and a few flakes of coconut before closing her eyes, waiting. Darryl leaned forward and began to gently lick at the chocolate covered nipple. She lifted her hands and held his head firmly to her breast while she lightly stroked his hair. Azalea groaned her approval as his lips and tongue remained gently suckling long after the last smudge of chocolate was gone. She began to feel an unfamiliar sensation of tension and fullness centered in her groin but radiating warmth through her whole body.

Darryl dipped his fingers in the bowl and scooped up enough chocolate to drizzle on her other breast like the icing on a Bunt cake. He began to attend to cleaning it as well, while the strange but delightful warmth began to overwhelm her.

As his lips moved back and forth between her breasts and his hands caressed her sides and outer thighs, Azalea found herself getting lost in the sensations and warmth. She began rubbing her thighs together and squirming in his embrace.

"Darryl," she gasped, "stop please. I feel strange, dizzy and almost like I need to use the bathroom, but I don't. I feel so warm; it's like I have a fever. Your lips on my breast feel so good they almost seem to burn my skin. My whole body is tingling."

"It sounds like you're just getting close to an orgasm. Isn't that a good thing?"

"I don't know; it feels wonderful and scary. I always wondered what an orgasm would feel like."

Darryl was startled. "You mean you've never had an orgasm?"

"You're the first man that has ever touched me so intimately."

"You don't ever masturbate?"

"No, Darryl, I've thought about it, but traditional Islamic teaching regards masturbation as haram, or forbidden. I may not have been very devout or strict in my religion, at least in recent years, but it still influences me."

"Oh, Azalea, darling, I think the time has come for you to cum, if you'll pardon the pun. He laughed and continued, "And you've come to the right place. I'm coming to be an expert. I want you to come here and lie back on the bed, and just enjoy the ride."

They both stood up and moved over to sit on the bed. This was it. Decision time, did she trust him or didn't she? What did she want from this night? She reached out for his hands. "I want to be with you, but I'm afraid."

"Azalea, don't be. I promised you. We'll stop anytime you want. I mean that. You're in control."

She kissed him tenderly. "Thanks for understanding; I love you."

She lay back, and Darryl climbed up on the bed beside her. Wanting to move things to a new level, he immediately reached for her panties. After the slightest hesitation, she raised her hips to help him and he pulled them on off. Looking back at what the garment had concealed, he drew in his breath sharply. Again this woman astonished him. First, because he was surprised at the level of her excitement. Her labia were open and engorged and awash in her juices. But also because he realized that her luxurious black hair and eyebrows were the only hair on her body.

Azalea blushed when she realized where he was looking. "It's part of our religion to remove all body hair. I hope you don't find that offensive."

"You are incredibly beautiful, Azalea, you take my breath away. Now lie back and close your eyes, and just let your feelings go."

Azalea hesitated, but her desire to experience more of this marvelous new feeling, and her desire to be a good lover for Darryl overcame her shyness. She did as he asked, and Darryl, starting with her forehead, he began to slowly and very gently kiss his way over ever inch of her beautiful body. His lips were as delicate as a butterfly's wings, as he meandered over her eyes, lingered at her lips, nuzzled her neck, in a lazy path towards her breast, but with a route that left her guessing to where that wonderful butterfly would touch her next. He brushed his lips across her nipples which now were so hard and erect that they reminded him of Hershey's chocolate kisses. She thrust her chest upward in an effort to achieve even more contact, but the elusive butterfly would evade her, only to return moments later to tease her again.

Darryl noticed her fingernails starting to claw at the sheets and her head beginning to roll from side to side. He realized she was getting close, so he started down her abdomen, stopping to lavish extra attention on her belly button. He felt the tension and fluttering in her abdominal muscles which spurred him on his way. He gently touched her inner thighs to urge her to open her legs. Azalea hesitated a moment, before she allowed him to open her up and reveal her most intimate secrets to his hungry gaze. Her beauty in turn took his breath away. Her delightful labia were blossoming open to reveal her very wet bright coral pink inner lips. This was a beautiful sight and he had to continue. Starting just above her knee, he gently kissed his way up her inner thigh, and her breathing almost stopped as he approached the apex. He blew gently on her pussy, and she responded with a sharp gasp and tremor.

'My God, he thought, if this woman has never had an orgasm, it's not because she's unresponsive. I've hardly touched her, and she's ready to explode.' Listening to her labored breathing and feeling her muscle tension, Darryl decided that he would end her misery as quickly as possible without any more teasing. As he brought his face closer to her, a good whiff of her womanly aroma sealed the decision, and he could no more wait than walk away. Moving to her center, he licked her once straight up ending with a little flick of her emerging clitoris.

"Oh yes, YES! So good, it feels so good. Don't stop, please don't stop," she gasped.

He didn't stop. He started licking her like a cat lapping up milk, alternating with sucking on her lips, then extending his tongue to probe her opening and tickle that magical little button. When she arched her back so that she rose off the bed, Darryl realized that it was time for the fireworks. Taking her now fully aroused clitoris with his lips, he gently sucked to draw it out and swirled just the tip of his tongue against it. Azalea gave out a strangled little screech and started spasms that racked her entire body. Darryl hung on and continued his stimulation as her orgasm led immediately into another and another that merged into one prolonged event until suddenly she collapsed with a gasp and lay still, seemingly unconscious.

After kissing the delightful spot he'd just tortured, Darryl crawled up to cradle her head, feeling suddenly guilty at pushing her so far. In a moment she opened her eyes and gazed into his with great love and a slight embarrassment.

"Are you all right?" he asked with concern.

She took a moment to catch her breath. "Oh, so much more than all right; I feel wonderful. I guess all my life, I've wondered why all the fuss about sex. Why did people go to such extremes to get it? Why did everyone seem so obsessed with it? Movies, books, people risking their jobs, their lives, and their fortunes; I couldn't understand why anything could be so important... Now I understand. Now that I know what its like, I don't think I'll ever stop wanting more."

Darryl laughed. "Uh, oh. I may have created a monster. Does my beautiful monster want to play some more right now?"

"Please no, no more right now. I'm not used to it yet. I try to never pass out more than once a date." She giggled like a school girl. But then she turned more serious. "But what about you, Darryl? I'm not totally ignorant of men. You must need some loving attention, too."

"That's OK, sweetheart. Tonight is just about you. I'll deal with it."

"Indeed you will not, Darryl Sanders. I may be new at this, but even I know that sex is something we are supposed to do together. Not something you do to me. Besides, I want to bring you pleasure."

In a manner clearly indicating that she would not be refused, she grabbed the top of his pajamas bottoms, and with a minimum of ceremony yanked them to his knees. Then with the skill of a street fighter she yanked his feet out from under him, and tumbled him into the pile of pillows on the bed. Giggling like school children, they wrestled for possession of his final bit of modesty. Finally she won by grabbing his legs like a calf-roper and upending him. Before he could wiggle free she triumphantly yanked the garment off and waved it overhead like a battle flag. Darryl's retribution was swift, as he quickly pulled her legs out from under her tumbling them both into a heap on the pillows.

The laughter suddenly died when Azalea found herself staring at a very erect, and to her, an impossibly large penis, from inches away. She was mesmerized. Like a cobra which posses great beauty and yet is very frightening at the same time, it demanded that she conquer it and make it her own.

She reached out and wrapped her delicate hand around his very erect organ. She looked up at him and whispered in a husky voice, "You'll have to show me what to do. But I'm a fast learner, and this is a topic that interests me greatly."

Darryl showed her how to stroke him, and soon she was slowly and lovingly exploring the sensations she could give him. The feel and reaction of his penis fascinated her.

"As a nurse, I've seen penises before, but not erect, certainly not to touch. It's soft and hard at the same time; and it reacts to my touch in such an interesting way."

"It's a pretty important part of me, and it is definitely interested in you."

"Interested is good, but even knowing the mechanics the way I do, I still can't help but wonder how that thing would fit in that tiny little hole of mine."

"It's pretty average in size; it would fit, I promise."

She looked pensive. "At this moment, I'd actually like to find out, but Darryl, darling, I can't. I'm sorry, but I just can't. You know that I am a virgin, and as silly as it may sound, I want to stay that way for the man I will marry and who will father my children. We haven't gotten there yet." She sighed. "But this is fun for me. And by your goofy grin, I'd say for you too."

Suddenly, Azalea leaned over and slipped her mouth over the end of his cock, just for a moment. She looked up at his startled face.

"Azalea, you don't have to do that," he said.

"I know I don't have to. I want to. I was trying you on for size. I'm not ready to let you ejaculate in my mouth, not yet at least. But I want to someday. I know how special that is to a man, and I want to do it for you. You'll have to be a little patient."

She leaned over and took him into her mouth again for a few strokes. Darryl groaned. "Not too patient. I do rather like having you in my mouth."

She continued to gently stroke him with the occasional quick taste. Darryl found himself getting close to a release. "Sweetheart, ' he warned, "I'm about to cum."

"Go ahead, cum for me, cum for me," she whispered. She stroked faster now and carefully pointed his penis towards her breasts. "Cum on me, I want to feel it on me."

Her words took him right over the top and he started to ejaculate, his first shot hitting her right breast. Succeeding spasms went down her chest, the last going right on her mons.

Azalea beamed with the pride of having caused this in her man. Using her finger she wiped the fluid starting to run down her mons toward her slit. "It's a little dangerous there." Curious, she lifted her hand to her face and examined it, sniffing at it; finding nothing objectionable, she tentatively tasted it with the tip of her tongue, then smiled and licked her finger clean.

"I think you taste good. I'd heard such horror stories, I wasn't sure. I think next time I'll just take it direct from the source." She blushed, but there was a seductive twinkle in her eye.

"He pulled her to him and held her tightly. I HAVE created a monster, a delightful and beautiful monster. Not that I'm complaining, mind you. He rubbed his naked body against hers as he lightly tickled her side and kissed her again. "

She pushed him away, "Darryl, stop, I think this monster has used up all her courage for tonight. I'd like us to just take a shower together, and then I would just like to have you hold me tonight. Is that OK?"

"Yes, on both counts. I'd love to take a shower with you and to cuddle tonight."

"The shower proved to be more playful than erotic as Darryl avoided putting any pressure on this wonderful woman. They had already done far more than he had expected, and he didn't want to scare her. Afterwards they spooned together and whispered sweet thoughts to each other. But thanks to their long walk, long day, and recent excitement, they soon dozed off in each other's arms and slept peacefully until morning.

Azalea awoke as the morning light came through her window. She was momentarily startled to realize she wasn't alone in bed, but pleasant memories soon flooded back. She lay there enjoying the feel of his hand lightly resting on her breast and the unmistakable erection cradled neatly between the checks of her bottom. She giggled and wiggled her fanny against him.

Darryl woke up and felt her warm body press back against him. "Good morning, my beautiful flower. Take no notice of that thing poking you. He's like that every morning. I can't do a thing with him."

Azalea laughed sweetly. "That's not what I hear. I have it on good authority than you can work magic with that particular wand. But for now he'll have to wait. I'm starving, so I want you to run back to your room and get ready to take me to a huge hot breakfast."

"It's a deal; 30 minutes and dress for travel; I've got a very big day planned for us."

Darryl indeed had made big plans. After breakfast they went to the Bahnhof (train station). From here you could catch a train on the Berner Oberland Bahn down to Interlaken. Today however they took the Wengener Alp Bahn cog railroad up to Kleine Scheidegg through some of the most incredible high Alpine scenery imaginable to the foot of the Eiger. The high resort town of Kleine Scheidegg and the hotel patio where they enjoyed some hot spicy Glühwein would be familiar to anyone who has seen the Clint Eastwood movie The Eiger Sanction, since it was the very spot where George Kennedy set up a telescope to watch the ill-fated climbers.

The north face of the Eiger is one of the most notorious peaks in all of Europe. The 'rotten' rock on its face, cracked and split from countless freeze and thaw cycles, and unpredictable weather make it perhaps the most dangerous climb outside of the Himalayas. It's so dangerous that the usually fearless Swiss Alpine Rescue has posted large signs at the base announcing that if you are foolish enough to climb the north face, they will not come to rescue you.

After the refreshments they boarded the Jungfraubahn, a narrow gauge rack railway which runs nine kilometers from Kleine Scheidegg to the highest railway station in Europe at Jungfraujoch. The railway runs almost entirely within a tunnel built into the Eiger and Mönch mountains. The long tunnel contains two stations in the middle, where passengers can disembark to observe the surrounding mountain range through windows built into the mountainside. One of the windows, in the middle of the north face of the Eiger, looks down on Grindelwald. Darryl had borrowed some binoculars so they were able to easily pick out their chalet. They also could look down the impossibly sheer cliff of the Eiger and wonder what type of man would risk his life to climb it.

Jungfraujoch station opens up on a glacier. They chartered a helicopter to tour the spectacular peaks and ice sheets of the area from the air; then on rented snow cats, they explored the glacier surface. The highlight was an impromptu snowball fight, Azalea's first. But she gave as good as she got and soon both were covered with snow and laughing hysterically. Later, back inside they went for more Glühwein and hot apple strudel to thaw out.

By the time they got back to their rooms they were tired and cold but happy. They cuddled up together for a short nap, and as Azalea nodded off with his strong arms around her, she thought that this must be close to heaven.

When they awoke, Darryl said he had a surprise for her. He called down to the concierge's desk, and a few minutes later two wardrobe bags were delivered to the room. Darryl handed the longer one to her.

"Go ahead, open it!" he said excitedly.

She did and pulled out a beautiful formal cocktail dress in a rich blue that would compliment her skin tone. It was long but had a slit on one side to reveal her gorgeous leg. The top was a classical Grecian neckline off one shoulder.

"It's incredible; I love it, but how?"

"Cheryl helped me figure out your size and pick it from a catalog, but you can blame the final selection on me. The concierge arranged to have it altered and delivered from Interlaken."

"But what for?"

"Ah, but that's a surprise."

There was another tap on the door. Darryl opened it to reveal two uniformed attendants with a cart and a portable massage table.

"And here is my other surprise, once again through the help of the concierge. These ladies are here to pamper you with a massage, a facial, makeup, hair and whatever else you need to feel thoroughly spoiled and beautiful. I'll be back for you around six."

At six sharp, Darryl returned, looking quite handsome in his tuxedo. He knocked at her door and heard, "please come in." Entering, he found the room empty but the bathroom door closed, so he waited. It was worth it. As the door opened and Azalea came through it, his heart nearly stopped. She looked like a movie star, perfect in everyway. The ladies had done their work well, and his taste in dresses had proven to be quite good, but the real gem was Azalea's natural beauty, both of body and of spirit.

"My God, Azalea, you have always been beautiful but now you look like a goddess. I will be the envy of every man we see."

"And you will turn a few female heads yourself, as you look quite dashing and handsome in your tuxedo. Now do I get to know where we are going so resplendently attired?"

"Not yet, but soon you'll know."

A Mercedes limousine was waiting in front, and after a short ride, they exited the car at the main entrance of the Casino Kursaal Interlaken, built at the turn of the century, elegant and stylish with its beautiful park. A striking couple, they drew considerable attention as they walked in. Her hand holding his arm, they strolled around, and Darryl played a little baccarat, although more for the fun and the image, as he was no serious gambler.

Just at seven they went to the Restaurant Spycher where besides dinner, they would be entertained by a live folklore show featuring typical elements from all over Switzerland, including alpenhorns, yodeling, coin-swinging, and carillon. After they were seated beside each other at a small table, Darryl ordered for both of them. He chose the Burner Oberlander Schmaus (feast). It included Bernese Schnitzel (veal cutlet), wurst (sausages), Pouletbrust (chicken breast), gehacktes Rindfeisch mit Apfelmus (chopped beef with apple puree) and Kase Hornli (Swiss cheeses). The sommelier came by, and Daryl asked him for a recommendation to match their meal.

"Ah monsieur, we have many fine wines, but for a meal combining these flavors, my personal choice would be Geyser Peak, Sauvignon blanc of Sonoma County."

"I am surprised, I thought Europeans considered all California wines cheap swill."

"Not the knowledgeable ones, monsieur; we have them to thank for creating the modern science of fine winemaking, rather than relying on art and luck as we did for so long here. They are certainly not swill, nor are they particularly cheap anymore."

"Well by all means then, the Geyer Peak it shall be."

When the wine was delivered Darryl asked. 'Will you be joining me again?

"Yes, it is forbidden, but as I said, I'm not particularly devout anymore. I will join you, although only for one glass."

He poured one for her, and she took a sip. "And this is indeed a wine, perhaps worth risking damnation for."

The wine, the food and the Alpine show combined to make a perfect evening, especially for two people new to Switzerland and looking to enjoy the culture. Throughout the meal and the show, Darryl found his eyes drawn to his beautiful companion. This woman was a treasure, and he wasn't sure he ever wanted to be farther from her than he was right now. He couldn't help but raise a hand to brush her cheek, causing her to turn and smile at him, eyes twinkling.

Afterward they strolled through the gardens and walked along the edge of the lake. They came across a secluded bench with a beautiful view of the lake and the mountains. The lights of the city and the full moon shimmered off the still water like precious gems. They sat together, not speaking, just wrapped in each other's arms and savoring the closeness.

Azalea looked up and pulled him towards her for a kiss. It burned with passion and need, but she broke it off and just looked into his eyes while tenderly touching his cheek."

"Darryl... I want to tell you this has been the most wonderful day of my life... I just want..." She paused and looked desperately at him and touched his cheek tenderly.

"What is it?" he asked with concern.

"Oh, nothing." She looked away. "I just wanted to say I love you, no matter what."

"Are you sure that's all?"

She hid her face in his chest and hugged him but didn't speak. Darryl waited patiently. Then he noticed she was trembling slightly.

'Azalea, are you crying?"

Receiving no answer, he lifted her face to look again and saw the tears. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Azalea shook her head and tried to bury her face back into his chest, but he wouldn't let her. "Azalea, don't shut me out, What ever it is, we can talk about it."

"No, no, I can't, I just can't."

Darryl fell to his knees, so she couldn't avoid looking at him. "Azalea, this is me. We faced a firing squad together. There is nothing we can't talk about."

"You're going to hate me, I can't stand that."

"There is nothing you can say or do, that would ever make me hate you."

"Don't be so sure... Darryl, I can't sleep with you anymore. I want to, but I just can't."

"I'm sorry. I moved too fast, didn't I? You weren't ready for it."

"No, Darryl, it's not that at all. It was the most wonderful thing I ever felt. I wanted more. I wanted to do it all. If you had asked me to make love with you, I would have willingly given you my virginity; I could deny you nothing."

"I would never have asked you for so precious a gift; a gift I knew you wished to save for the father of your children, your partner for life."

"I know you would not ask, Darryl, my dear Darryl, but that's not the point. The fact that I would be so willing shows that I am into something way over my head.

"I don't understand. What are you saying?"

"Darling, do you have any idea how important an event losing her virginity is for a woman?"

"I think so; it's a one time event. While many women have more than one marriage, none have more that one deflowering. I'm told you never forget your first, although it's often traumatic and disappointing.

"For Moslem women, it is all of that, and a great deal more. Your virginity also belongs to your family, and losing it can cost you your life or make you an outcast. At the very least it makes you a faceless one, a non-person."

"Damn, that's tough."

"Correct, it is tough. So the one thing that I have been absolutely certain of, since I was a very little girl, is that I was going to remain pure until I lay upon my wedding bed. And yet last night, I was prepared to hand my virginity over on a silver platter, if you had so much as expressed an interest."

"But I didn't; I wouldn't."

"I know, but that's not the point. The point is that I gave up control of my life, and my body, to a man to whom I am not related by blood or marriage, just because you made me feel so good physically."

"And that was bad?"

"How you made me feel? NO! That was wonderful! It was my loss of control that was not so wonderful."

"Was letting go of your feelings with me such a bad thing?"

She embraced him and kissed him. "Not what you're thinking. I do love you. I want you. But I had no idea how intense this would be, or how it would affect me. I thought I could just learn a little about sex with you, try out our love a little, but now I know that it's not like that. If I sleep with you again, you WILL end up inside of me."

"I promised you that I wouldn't let that happen."

"I know you did, and I believe you, but I don't think you have any idea how badly I wanted you last night. That's why I made you stop touching me. Because otherwise, I was going to have you in me. I would have begged, cried, threatened, lied, thrown a tantrum and if necessary, knocked you out and stuffed you in, but one way or another, it would have happened."

Darryl just looked at her, stunned, and finally stammered, "Wow, I had no idea!"

"I know, I couldn't let you know. Nor could I let you know that if I ever sleep with you again, I don't think I will ever be able to let you go."

"Maybe you won't have to."

"It's the maybe that's the problem, isn't it. Courtney was right; it's too hard to have part of you. It has to be all or nothing. You'll have to sort this thing out, Darryl. I could be your lover, or your friend, but I can't share you."

"I think I've heard this before," he laughed mirthlessly. "I don't hate you, Azalea. I even understand how you feel. It was starting to bother me, too. It's like I was taking advantage of you. You see, even a guy can have a conscience."

She looked at him tenderly and touched his cheek. "Poor Darryl, in love with two women and two women in love with him, and he still can't get laid."

"Well, come on then. We need to get back, so I can do something about this."

"What are you going to do?"

"I guess I'm going to sit on a hillside and think very, very hard."

The limousine ride back to the hotel was much more subdued than the outbound trip as the couple sat in the back, quietly holding each other as if they'd never be together again. At Azalea's door, they gazed into each other's eyes for moment then kissed, again, feeling like they might be parting forever as lovers, rather than just for the night.

Azalea would never admit, especially to herself, how close she came to dragging him into her room again.

The Lake House, Saturday, June 30

"Whatever is done for love always occurs beyond good and evil."

Friedrich Nietzsche

Jaclyn had joined Courtney for a late brunch on the veranda overlooking the lake. She looked at her friend, and employer, with concern. "Are you getting enough sleep, Courtney? It seems like you're sitting on the dock every morning when the sun rises."

"It's the one place where I can feel certain he will come back to me. Every promise we've ever made to each other was made there."

"Including your promise to marry him someday? I'm not sure that proposals made when you are eight years old are legally binding?"

"You can make fun if you want, but it's one promise I intend to keep."

"So that's why you walked away and left him in the arms of another woman? Why you don't lift a finger to try to get him back?"

"Not true. I said I wouldn't fight Azalea for him. I didn't say I wouldn't try to get him back."

"Uh, oh, there are signs of spirit in there somewhere, after all. What's the play, boss?

Courtney laughed at her enthusiasm. "Why is it that you refuse to believe that I can get Darryl back without "fighting" for him, I expect Darryl to come back because he will realize that we are destined to be together."

"Oh that, I thought you meant you had a real strategy."

"Damn it, Jackie, that is my strategy. Get over it, and get on board."

"And you guys are going to pretend to be friends,"

"No, Jaclyn, we are friends, and I want her treated like any other friend. Speaking of which, how is her new job coming."

"I talked to Gaho last night, and the tribal council has officially voted to offer her the head nurse job at the new children's wing. Professionally, it's perfect; she will be practically running the place. The salary and benefits are very competitive, and they will throw in a small house. Gaho is ready to adopt her, and Odakota is beside himself. A beautiful single female could be the answer to his prayers. It's just a question of when are you going to tell her the good news?"

"I'm going to call right now. It should ease some of her worries."

Grindelwald, in the Bernese Oberland, Switzerland, Saturday, June 30

"Meeting you was fate, becoming your friend was a choice, but falling in love with you I had no control over."

Anon

It was early evening when Azalea hung up the phone. She was delighted at the job offer. It was exactly what she wanted for herself and for Nura. She thought they could both find a home among the Lakota Sioux, an ancient warrior culture with many values in common with their own people. Her conscience was torturing her. Courtney's kindness in finding this position for her was just one more thing making it harder for her to think about stealing her happiness. Courtney might say there was no connection, but there was to Azalea. Her personal sense of honor was that accepting kindness obligated you to repay with kindness. You also did not take things that didn't belong to you. Maybe Courtney made a huge mistake, but it was impossible to deny that she and Darryl had begun a journey long ago. Now she felt she was the only thing in the way of their completing that journey, and she wasn't comfortable in that position.

She looked out her window and saw Darryl still sitting under the same tree. He had sat there most of the day. When he wasn't there, he was taking long walks alone. He probably wouldn't have eaten, if she hadn't taken him some sandwiches for lunch. Other than that, they hadn't spoken since the evening before. It was obvious that he was taking the job of thinking about their future very seriously. She had some thinking of her own to do. Was what was best for Darryl always; what was best for her and Nura? She tossed and turned long into the night, finally falling into a troubled sleep.

Grindelwald, in the Bernese Oberland, Switzerland, Sunday, July 1

She had agreed to meet Cheryl and James for breakfast and joined them on the chalet porch a few minutes late.

Cheryl looked at her with concern. "You all right, Honey? You look tired."

"I didn't sleep very well last night," replied Azalea, "I had some thinking to do."

"It must be catching," laughed James, "Darryl's walking around in a daze with a lot on his mind. Don't suppose it's the same thing you're thinking about, is it?"

"Could be. Life is not simple."

"Well, speaking of the devil, here he comes now, and unless I misinterpret that determined look, I'd say he's made up his mind."

Darryl walked up to them. He looked haggard with fatigue, but as Cheryl noticed, he also looked grim and determined. He did have the air of someone who has made an important decision and is now determined to see it through.

"Excuse me, Azalea, could I speak to you? Maybe alone would be better."

"That's OK, Darryl. I have no secrets from Cheryl and James. I take it you have made up your mind."

"Yes, I have," replied Darryl, "It's been the toughest thing I've ever had to do. But I've done the best I can. I just wish there was a solution that didn't hurt anyone."



-------

Chapter 22: You Promised to Marry Me


"And something else, Darryl Sanders, I'm going to marry you someday."

Courtney Archer age 8

Grindelwald, in the Bernese Oberland, Switzerland, Sunday, July 1

"Yes I've made a decision. It's the hardest damn thing I've ever done in my life... even harder because this is when someone gets hurt. But I don't think I can put this off any longer."

His eyes showed his guilt and pain, as well as a few tears. He was still reluctant to speak. Everyone else was keyed up to hear what was coming. His next few words were going to mean the realization of dreams for one and the end of hope for another.

Suddenly Azalea reached across and pressed her fingers across his lips. "Stop, Darryl! Don't say a word. I need to speak first. This is not going to be easy for me, so I ask that no one speaks until I'm done. Please!"

So intense was her plea that everyone just nodded mutely. She turned first to Darryl.

"Darling Darryl, I love you, and I love being loved by you. You have shown me what love between a man and a woman means, or at least what it should be. You even let me have a little taste of making love, and I finally understand what the all the fuss is about. It was all so wonderful that I know giving you up will be painful, even after these few weeks. But this morning, I finally realized something that I should have known all along. You have been agonizing over nothing. There isn't now, nor was there ever any choice to be made by either of us. That choice was made long ago."

Gasps and muttered protests interrupted, and Darryl started to rise from his seat. Azalea stopped the disturbance with her intense stare.

"What you are debating is something that is no longer yours to give nor mine to accept. You gave your heart to Courtney so long ago that you probably don't remember when. But you did, and now you are not quite complete without her, and she needs you just as much. Without you, part of her soul is gone. She lost her ability to write her songs. You and Courtney started a journey together many years ago, and although at times you both have temporarily lost the way, it's a journey that continues. You must see it through to its conclusion."

"When we first met, I took everything at face value; I assumed you had been callously discarded by some rich bitch of a celebrity. I saw a sensitive, hurting man, and my natural nurturing instincts and an irresistible attraction made me fall in love. It might have been better to have gone a bit slower, or at least waited until you showed some signs of interest. But you were my first love, and it's not like they give classes. You didn't lead me on, and I tried to keep control, but soon I was madly in love with you. When my brother came to persuade you to abandon the expedition, and you went on, I knew the likely outcome, but I had no choice but to come with you. I called it 'duty', but it was really not being able to bear the thought of being away from you. I would have gone with you through the gates of hell, so in love was I."

"I had no idea," whispered Darryl, despite her injunction of silence.

"Of course you had no idea. You were a typically clueless male, and I was such a reserved woman, you might have never known. But as we worked together, I realized that you were developing some feelings towards me. It was almost unbearable in the cave to be so close and yet not to be able to touch you or express my feelings. Why did you have to be such a perfect gentleman? Why did I have to be so shy? I lay awake every night listening to your breathing, hoping you would come to me."

"Only on the night that Cheryl came to 'keep you from exploding' did I get to finally touch you and be touched by you. And even though Cheryl got even more intimate with you than I, I fondled your male organ and felt your lips on my breasts. The contact burned into my flesh like fire and made me hunger for more. And that night also let me know you were as hungry for me as I was for you."

"It finally took a firing squad to get us to actually admit our love out loud. But I would have almost volunteered for execution just to hear you swear your undying love for me. I should hate you Darryl Sanders for making a promise to me that you could never keep."

Darryl visibly recoiled from the bitter venom in her voice, but just as quickly, it softened again.

"And I would hate you if I weren't sure that at the moment you said it, you meant it as a promise you could and would keep. And that's how I took it then. When we were saved from certain death, I was ecstatic with love. I knew I had my soul mate for life. My joy lasted until the moment the AK47 round hit Nura. Then all my priorities changed. Saving her became the most important thing in my life. It didn't take me long to realize that Nura's only real source of help was through Courtney. Her wealth and influence could get Nura the best medical care in the world."

"It was then that I dishonored myself. Assuming Courtney to be a spoiled bitch used to buying and bribing to get her way through life, I offered to give her what she most wanted, you, Darryl, in return for what I most wanted, Nura's recovery."

A stunned and embarrassed silence greeted this announcement.

"I'm sorry, Darryl, You had just professed your love, and I was ready to trade it away. It is probably the most shameful act of my life, even though it was a good cause. As if a person's love could be bought and sold or traded like a cheap trinket. And when Courtney replied, my shame was compounded with humiliation when she displayed the sense of honor I had so lacked. Her words were kind and gracious, but her message clear and firm; that her generosity and hospitality to Nura and me was in no way connected to our relationship with you. This was not the spoiled rich bitch diva of my imagination. I had just handed this woman her fondest wish on a silver platter, and she had turned me down flat as a point of honor."

"Oh no, this was a different creature entirely. In fact the more I got to know her, the more she won my respect and even my friendship. If Courtney had treated me as her enemy or even as a rival, I would have fought for you. In my culture, if someone makes you their enemy, you fight and try to take all that they have, because an enemy has no rights. But Courtney offered me friendship; she has treated Nura and me with great kindness. She has even found me a wonderful job and a home where I can raise Nura. To me, it would be dishonorable to repay her kindness by doing any act to hurt her. I could never feel joy in a love if it must be built on the ashes of her happiness."

Given her beauty and her obvious love, I despaired of any chance of winning you, when to my amazement; Courtney practically demanded that we have a love affair. I dared to dream again. While honor might prevent me from acting to hurt my benefactor, doing only what she had asked was certainly allowable. If in the course of this affair, you, on your own free will, chose me over her, that would just be her bad luck. My conscience would be clear."

"Darling Darryl, I want you to know how much I enjoyed our time together... all our time together. No one could have wished for a more gallant or considerate escort, charming companion, and exciting lover. You were everything a woman could want from a man. You were so good, in fact, that I found I could not spend more than a single night with you and trust myself not to force my virginity on you. So our affair was a short one, and ended in two women demanding that you make a choice."

"I watched you from my window wrestling with the decision, but it wasn't until last night that I remembered a conversation we had that contained all the answers. Do you remember the night I sat you down and made you tell me the entire story of your relationship with Courtney?"

Darryl nodded mutely.

"At the time, I wasn't quite sure why I wanted to hear it, because at the end, I was certain that this story wasn't over yet. But I got the answer to the last two big questions that night. One I recognized at the time. You are and always have been totally, madly in love with Courtney Archer, even when she drove you away, angry and confused by her bizarre behavior. You tried to bury yourself half a world away to forget her, only it didn't work. You met me and fell in love with me also, but you never fell out of love with Courtney. And you never will, because you two are meant to be. You have loved each other since you were children; accept it, you are soul mates, and that means soul mates for life."

"That leaves just one question. The Big Mistake, the Breakup, the Disaster, whatever went wrong between you two. You told me the answer to that also, but I didn't put it all together until last night. Go back to May 1985, a week after the prom. Courtney's on top of the world. Her music was the hit of the prom. She knows you're on your way to join her. The two of you are going to pick out the college you're going to attend. Best of all, you're both are going to make love for the very first time. All her dreams are coming true. Until the moment she reaches home and finds that her father has destroyed every hope and dream, like a capricious wind snuffing out candles. She's forced to flee in fear and shame into the night, looking for a roof over her head. She won't see you again for ten long years. In those ten years she rebuilds her life with her own hands, wits and talents, but she never forgets the black despair she suffered at the hands of someone she should have been able to trust."

"When you meet Courtney again, a lot has changed. She is now an international Superstar. A lot hasn't changed; she's still the girl you knew in most ways. One change that people don't seem to pay enough attention to is that she is always in control. Every since her father gutted her future like a fish, Courtney has never let anyone be in a position to hurt her like that again. Everyone is on her payroll; she answers to no one. She feels safe that way, albeit probably at an unconscious level."

"Then suddenly there you were, asking her to give up part of her touring schedule and marry you. Translation: give up a big part of her professional identity and personal gratification, and put her future happiness in your hands. This is an incredibly big step for her. She set up the concert thinking you would feel the very positive experience that she has on the stage. She didn't realize that your own fears and jealousies would make it a nightmare experience for you. As you both failed to communicate, you got angry and frustrated but you couldn't talk about your feelings and emotions. You were feeling resentful, hurt and confused by her reluctance to commit to your relationship. She was afraid of letting go and angry at feeling pressured. There in a nutshell is the so called 'big problem.'"

"That's it?" asked Darryl, "You really think that's what broke us up and sent me half way around the world? Hell, every couple has to deal with authority and trust issues; why did we end up with such dramatic overreactions?"

"Not every couple has a history of a father leaving his family destitute, and not all women are multinational corporations, but otherwise yes, you and Courtney are not immune from the same problems as your peers. And while I claim no special expertise, I very much suspect the solution is as basic as the problem; reassurance, patience and love. Cheryl, maybe you can help here."

"Not really," replied Cheryl, "Hearing your explanation, I think you hit the nail on the head. And I agree with the solution. Just be sure she understands you're there to be her partner, not to take over and run her life. Win her trust gradually. You have to understand that her father's misdeeds caused some deep scars. But I think Courtney has spent plenty of time thinking about this, too and she's more than ready to give her trust and find a middle ground. Believe me; she'll return all the love you can give."

"Darryl nodded. Azalea took his hand. "So now there is no barrier in the way. It is time for you to rejoin your partner and continue the journey you began on that dock so many years ago. I must find my own partner to share my journey through life; with you and Courtney as my very closest friends. I want you to be part of my life forever."

"But I beg one last favor, Darryl. We woman are vain creatures. It will make me happy to always believe that you would have chosen me, just as I am certain Courtney will always need to believe she was the one. No woman wants to be second choice. The only way to preserve both of our illusions is to never tell. I beg of you, Darryl, promise you will never tell anyone what you were about to say."

She stopped and sat down. Everyone sat there in stunned silence. Finally Darryl got up and embraced her. He kissed her tenderly and then held her at arm's length. "Are you happy with this choice?"

"Yes... yes, I am. Being with you was a lot of fun, and I'll miss that. I'll never be able to look at chocolate in quite the same way. But I have Nura to raise and a career to start in a new land. I will be very busy, but I plan to spend a lot of time at Lake House. I know what I'm giving up, but I feel better now than I have since we got here. My conscience is no longer troubling me."

"Thank you, Azalea. You truly are an amazing woman. But you had better mean it about staying close. I can't imagine my life now without you. We made a pledge to each other in front of those guns, and it may not work out the obvious way, but I meant everything I said. I'll love you until the day I die, but it will be as one of my closest friends, someone who understands me better than I do myself. "

"I'll always be near, Darryl; I feel the same way, I value my friends as much as I could ever value a lover, so I won't really be giving you up at all."

For long minutes they just held each other tightly and quietly wept, part in happiness and part for what might have been. Neither wanted to be the first to let go of what they had, but finally Azalea gently pushed him away. "Darryl, there is someone waiting for you. Go to her now. Don't call; you have to tell her this in person. Go to her as quickly as possible, because I know her need."

"I'll leave immediately I can be back by dawn tomorrow. If I know her at all, she'll be waiting on the dock."

"Wonderful," Azalea said, "I wish I could be there to see her reaction. But it's a private moment between the two of you. Nura and I will be along in a few days."

Darryl excused himself and started to go to his room to pack, when Cheryl grabbed his arm. "I'm going to send James to keep you company while you pack. I'd like a few minutes with Azalea"

"As for you, James McNichol, you are going as Darryl's dad, not a reporter digging for information. And Darryl, you're strictly in NO COMMENT mode." Cheryl threatened angrily. "This young lady just did one of the noblest acts I've ever seen. AND she managed to give everyone a solution they can live with. So Darryl, if you really want both of these beautiful women in your life, you'll bury this secret so deep even you can't find it. Otherwise you could end up with neither of them. And as for you, James McNichol, if I ever find out you even asked, you can join a monastery because it'll be a cold day in hell before you get back in my bed."

James managed to look offended. "The thought never crossed my mind, dear, but if it should happen to, I shall stomp it dead like a Louisiana cockroach," he solemnly pledged.

When Darryl sniggered irreverently, James rounded on him. "Glad you're finding this all so amusing, Mr. Sanders, but then it's not your pussy supply being threatened, is it? Not all of us have two beautiful women fighting over us. That somewhat unhappy lady threatening me is my only social life that leaves both hands free. It will probably tarnish my image as a journalist but simply put, I wouldn't risk that to find out you were shacking up with Hilary Clinton."

"Hilary Clinton, ye Gods! Besides being a little old for me, there is the small matter of the Secret Service. It would serve you right if I did tell you."

I'm warning you, Darryl Sander... , if you even look like you might be thinking about telling me, I swear I will rip your tongue out with my bare hands and tie it over my ears like ear muffs."

"Even Azalea and Cheryl cracked up over this nonsense. "Go on, you two clowns," shouted Cheryl, "get the hell out of here, so we can have a serious grown up woman-to-woman conversation."

The two women waited until the men had gone inside.

"You know they didn't mean to make light of your sacrifice, don't you?" asked Cheryl apologetically. "They were just very relieved at a solution that left no one dumped on."

"I know, I feel almost the same way myself, although a part of me will always regret what might have been."

"Azalea, what you did was courageous, noble and very wise. It was the perfect and probably the only workable solution for everyone. Including, in the long run, you. You're brilliant!"

"Very flattering words, but let's be honest, the real author of the masterpiece was you, not me."

"Me?"

"Let's not insult each other by pretending to be stupid or innocent, because the two of us are neither. Courtney totally disarmed me at our first meeting by using the one weapon for which I had no defense; friendship. By refusing to challenge me in any way, she reduced me to feeling like a thief who would rob a friend while accepting hospitality and gifts, if I tried to get Darryl. Anyone who knew me intimately would know I could not do this; it would be impossible."

"Yes, so?"

"Courtney didn't know me at all. So when I thought about it, I knew she couldn't possibly come up with it on her own. I met her as soon as she arrived at the clinic. That only left you and that very long, very private limo ride. You had to have given her the strategy to "beat" me."

Cheryl looked embarrassed. "I'm sure it seems that way, but honestly, it was not my goal to hurt you, not at all."

"Oh, I understand that... now. But there was a time when I was very hurt and angry. I felt betrayed by some one whom I regarded as a sister in the caves."

"Oh my God, how you must hate me," Cheryl sobbed.

"Hated, past tense; fortunately I began to see the wisdom, and eventually, the necessity of your solution. I realize now that it is the only way."

"I'm so glad you understand."

"Me too, especially before I put scorpions in your shoes."

"Scorpions?... In my shoes?"

"Relax, it was just a thought. I quickly realized that like England in the Second World War, I had a war I could win, but I couldn't afford to fight. Given Nura's condition and seeing how quickly Courtney got a world class surgeon at her bedside; one thing was obvious. I needed Courtney as a friend even more than I needed Darryl as a lover. And while she insisted that her commitment to our welfare was not tied to our relationships with Darryl, how could be otherwise?. Granting her all the sincere good intentions in the world, could the bleeding survivors of a knock-down drag-out cat fight all live happily ever after at Lake House?"

"Not bloody likely."

"More likely bloody!"

"So I had already learned that any competition would be done with the claws in. It would all very polite and civil. Which leads directly to the next problem; I liked her. She was nothing like I expected a big star to be. She was also obviously a woman very much in love. She had been in love with this guy for thirty years, with just a major stumble over balancing him and her career."

"And when you consider," interjected Cheryl, "that career in this case includes the ability to sell out major coliseums and cover walls with platinum, some allowance can be made that it's not quite like asking Mabel to give up her job at the Sparklewash to give you little Johnny."

"Despite which, I really believe that at this point, to get Darryl back, Courtney would probably give it all up and go work at the Sparklewash. So I knew for sure that my friend Courtney was, and always had been, very much in love with my friend Darryl. Now the question was his feelings towards her."

"How did you determine those?"

Azalea laughed. "Well, being a guy, I didn't want to take a chance on tripping him up with anything too subtle or tricky. I just sat him down and made him tell me the entire story of their relationship, from the first kiss on the dock until now. It was quite a story."

"And the bottom line?"

"Only a guy wouldn't know that he could no more live without her than oxygen. Darryl is under the illusion that he had a choice to make. The reality is that they are already so united spiritually and mentally that a wedding doesn't even count as a formality. This whole little charade is about those two finally recognizing something the rest of the universe has long ago accepted."

"And yet you still stayed with him, knowing you had no real future?"

"I'm still a woman with dreams and desires. Whatever I may have thought about my long range chances, Courtney had practically shoved him into my bed, and Darryl seemed willing enough. Maybe a part of me still hoped for a miracle. The rest of me was hoping for a real good time. You know, Cheryl; I had never been intimately touched by any man before. I had never had an orgasm."

Cheryl stared in total disbelief. "You're shitting me now, right?"

"No Cheryl, I am very serious. My religion and upbringing forbade masturbation and premarital sex, but my western nurse's training and living in the states exposed me to a lot of new ideas and images. Needless to say, I was more than a little anxious to try it out; especially with someone who would not insist on going further than I was willing to and take my virginity. Courtney promised me that Darryl was very, very good at this."

"And was he?"

"Oh yes, fabulous! In fact far too good. After the first night I realized I could never sleep with him again. Not and remain a virgin."

"Oh no Azalea, I'm sure you are wrong. Darryl would never break his..."

"Not Darryl, Me! You are right; he would never break his word. But if I ever am in bed with that man again, he will be inside me, even if I have to tie him down to the bed and rape him."

"So was that the final straw, when you decided to throw in the towel."

"No, no even then was I ready to completely give up my dream. It was actually last evening about sunset I was watching him sitting out thinking. I realized that we had made him do all of the decision making. Had I ever really asked myself if Darryl was the man I wanted to partner with for life? The next few hours produced a big surprise. I love Darryl, and Darryl is a terrific man but..."

"He's just not your man. He's just a little too civilized; you crave someone less tame. You need someone with warrior blood."

"Cheryl, people don't take you nearly seriously enough. You are one of the most insightful women I have ever met. You are exactly right. I come from a warrior race. Personal honor is everything. A slander is withdrawn or someone dies. A fight is never avoided. It's the code we live by. Darryl is as brave and loyal as any man. But he avoids violence whenever possible and would never take a life over words. These are core values, not picking out dining room curtains. These are things that you can't compromise.

"I know. I knew back in the cave that you two were incompatible for this very reason."

"And you didn't tell me?"

"No, Azalea, because you told me."

"I don't remember telling you anything like that."

"Well, it's probably because you didn't tell me directly, but when you came running out of the back chamber where that little Taliban SOB had tried to rape you, you stopped Darryl from going in. You said something like 'please Darryl, don't go in that chamber, so that you won't remember me in terms of what you see there. I fear it would offend you.' Then later when I was congratulating you on killing the rapist, I said it would have been fine with me if you had cut off his dick and stuffed it down his throat. You did not respond to this except with a strange little enigmatic smile. I always figured you did exactly that or something similar, and you knew even then that Darryl would not approve."

"Damn, you're right. I had forgotten that. So I probably have known about this for a long time and was in denial. But you, as I recall, reacted to the same thing with, "You are my hero."

"It takes one warrior queen to recognize another. Now you just have to find a good looking stud that thinks like me."

"I'm going to be living on a Lakota Sioux Reservation. You suppose they still have any of those gorgeous braves with the loincloths and the feathers riding those ponies and screaming out a challenge to the world?"

"I suspect they mostly wear blue jeans and drive pickups, but I think the gorgeous hasn't changed, and I'll bet there are some who still have that wild streak."

"Sounds promising. Come on, let's take Darryl to the airport."

The two wandered off together towards the front of the clinic. As they strolled along Cheryl turned to Azalea. "You weren't serious about scorpions in my shoes were you? That's seriously creepy."

"Oh relax Cheryl, it was just a little mental image fun like staring daggers, you know; nothing came of it."

"Good."

"Besides, we're in the middle of Switzerland; do you have any idea how hard it is to get good scorpions here?

Lake House Monday, July 2, 4:00 am

Karl's job had taught him to awaken immediately, so quickly that the ringing phone did not disturb Jaclyn's sleep.

"Karl, it's, Darryl. Don't say anything. I'm at the airport, but I don't want anyone to know I'm here. I want to surprise Courtney."

"OK, you got it. Wait near the cab stand; I'll be there in about 40 minutes."

The jeep pulled up almost to the minute. Karl jumped out and grabbed Darryl's bag.

As they sped back from the airport, Darryl asked, "When does Courtney usually get up?"

"Darryl, I'm surprised you even needed to ask. She'll be on the dock at sunrise. She's there every morning, rain or shine."

"I figured that, but I needed to know."

Dawn was just lighting the horizon when they got back to the Lake House. As expected, the figure of Courtney sat on the end of the dock, apparently lost in thought.

"You can probably walk right up to her when she's like this. I sometime go to check on her, and she doesn't even look up until I speak. Good luck!

Darryl walked quietly out on the dock. Just as Karl predicted, she either didn't hear him or thought he was just a security patrol. He looked at the brightening sky; he looked at the lake; finally he looked down at the graceful figure, and memories came flooding back. Whatever the process that had brought him here, he knew it was where he belonged. It just felt right. He was home.

Darryl stood right behind her and in a quiet voice said: "A very long time ago, on this very spot, you told me you would marry me someday. I'm here to hold you to that promise. Courtney, I want to marry you"

For a few seconds universal time, a few centuries Darryl time, nothing happened. Panic and despair began to tighten his heart with an icy hand. But then he heard the sound; that unmistakable sound of sheer female ecstasy. Throughout their lives, women develop many ways, subtle and not so subtle, to communicate pleasure and displeasure, especially the latter, to the male of the species. But the one sure sign, from the kindergarten playground to end of playfulness, that you have truly rocked her world is an ear-shattering screech. Emitted only on those special occasions when her sheer joy is so great she forgets to be cool and aloof.

In this case the screech came from an airborne young lady who, while always trim and fit, was still a substantial mass to try to catch unexpectedly, especially on a narrow dock. The result was that this dramatic and romantic moment ended up with them both sitting in eighteen inches of water without a shred of dignity between them.

Courtney pulled the wet hair from her eyes and saw a smiling Darryl, but she thought, 'this is all wrong, this is not how it's supposed to be.' She had played this scene out in her mind a thousand times, and it never ended with them sitting in the mud. 'They were never going to get it right'. Tears of frustration started to well up, when suddenly the world just paused, and she felt calm descend on her like a soft blanket. She felt the warm breath of the wolf at her ear.

"Little one, this is exactly how it should be. The lake has always been part of your love. It was playing together in the lake that you found your love, and it's by playing in the Lake, you will heal. It was worrying about how things should be that tore you apart. Learn to play again little one and rediscover the true joy of love."

And the world started up again, but it was the happy place that it had been when loving each other was the most important, the only important thing in their world. And now she couldn't look at Darryl without laughing. Darryl, relieved that the brief darkening he had seen in her face had passed away, cupped his hand and gave her a good splash which she returned with a giggle. In a moment they were two eight year olds playing in the lake with no purpose beyond just having fun. They laughed with sheer joy. Then he grabbed her and gave her a polite little peck on the tip of her nose, and looking into her sparkling eyes asked in a perfectly serious voice, "I'll take that for a yes, then?"

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Continued in Echoes of the Song

The Non-Epilogue

It was always my intention to end the story at this point with a brief epilogue to wrap up loose ends. But my little cast of characters seems reluctant to leave the stage. After two weeks of struggle, I have come to the conclusion that I'm trying to stuff ten pounds of loose ends into a five pound epilogue. Instead I'm going to write a mini-sequel "Echoes of the Song" which will feature Azalea's search for a warrior king. It will also follow the birth of a second generation up to the point of revealing who kisses who on the dock this time.


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The End
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Posted:  2006-06-11
Last Modified: 2007-02-22 / 11:07:24 pm
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