Grace's Heart - Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX

      It had been a pretty normal morning so far at The Weather Channel.  What Ronald Banks didn't know was, after today, he would never look at the world in the same way again.

      Ronald had a theory.  Actually, Ronald Banks had over 400 theories, but they all stemmed from his primary theory: that human strife and war was caused by a feeling of unfairness.  They have more than I  have, so I want some of theirs. 

      And the solution, which was the cornerstone of his theory, was to enter assets and liabilities, multiplied by variables of size, quantity and population, into a spreadsheet, and then distribute those assets and liabilities fairly.  Socialist, probably. Communist, maybe.  But certainly preferable to war and chaos. 

      In pursuit of this, Ronald Banks had the spreadsheet to end all spreadsheets.  Ronald could give you practically any piece of arcane data you wanted, such as the average number of nails used in new construction in Chicago on Tuesdays.  In June.  The fact that no one ever asked for that information didn't disturb Ronald at all.  Someday it would be needed, and he would have it.

      Averages were Ronald's passion.  Because averages were what he thought could save the world.  Equality.  Not to mention that Ronald was pretty sure that he, himself, was average, a quality of which he was extremely proud.  So naturally, Ronald's hobby was searching for the anomalies, the unfairness. His spreadsheet, at the click of his mouse, could be converted to a graph that showed, in no uncertain terms, where the bumps were.

      The bumps always reminded him of a game he had played at Chuck E. Cheese at a friend's birthday party when he was a child.  Low-tech, but very effective.  The player is given a mallet, and gophers would pop out of nine holes one at a time on the surface of the game.  The player's job was to hit the little critters on the head with the mallet, and down they would go. But, the moment you hit one, another would pop up.  It was a full-time job, keeping those gophers down, and the better you did it, the more points you got.

      Ronald was hitting gophers.  When he saw the bumps, he found a way to smooth them out by redistribution, his New World Order.  Now, all he had to do was convince the United Nations, or whomever you need to convince, that this was the way to true peace.  He knew he was asking a lot of the world, but with information, anything is possible.

      Of course, there were bumps over which he had no control.  There was no equality to the hardships of living in certain topographical areas, rocky, marshy, ungrowable, unbuildable land.  And the weather.  Absolutely the weather.  But again, with information, decisions can be made, so Ronald had what he believed was the most comprehensive database of livable areas and weather averages on the planet.  Literally.

      The database he had developed drew every five minutes from the world temperature database available to him at his work.  Periodically during his day, he would switch windows and view his masterpiece.  The average temperature line that developed over time was going up, to be sure, but it was going up in an orderly fashion, and very slowly, almost imperceptibly to the untrained eye. Straight lines meant everything was as it should be in Ronald's Universe.

      This morning had been busy.  Ronald had stayed up much too late entering data at home that simply couldn't be downloaded, but was essential to The Graph, as he called it.  He hadn't backed up until almost 2 a.m., and here it was, already 10 a.m., and he hadn't even looked at it.  Now, finally, the anticipation of clicking the icon that converted the data took hold of him, that moment before the ahhhhh, when he knew all was right with the world.  As he clicked through the windows, he watched each straight line moving across his screen.  No heartbeats, he said to himself, preferring instead the flatline of death to the chaos of life.

      Then, a frown.  Puzzlement.  How could there be changes to this screen? But there it was, just the hint of a gopher, as the line moved up a micromillimeter. Searching down, Ronald found the offender.  Buenos Aires.  A full four degrees warmer than the average for this time of year, well outside the allowable tolerance.  Making a note to research possible irregularities, including equipment error, Ronald continued to scroll.

      Another.  Ronald's breath began to come more quickly.  One could be error, another decreased that possibility exponentially.   Thimphu?  Ronald quickly switched screens and searched.  In Bhutan, in the Himalayas.  Four degrees.  Exactly.  What the hell is going on here?  Then another. Wellington.  New Zealand?  Four degrees.  Exactly.  The chances of the randomness of this activity was coalescing into a number that even Ronald couldn't compute, when he saw another.  Washington, D.C.   His brain raced, as the answer to the puzzle flew ahead, just out of reach.

      Then, Ronald was suddenly transported back to the Geography class he had so loathed, in part because it was right before the Math class he loved.  Standing in front of the class, reciting the ten capitals of the world that he had committed to memory as part of a group of students.  He had felt victimized as the nerd, given the most obscure of all, listening to the others smugly reciting Ottawa, Rome, Vienna, Tokyo, Budapest, and Paris.  He, on the other hand, had to remember N'Djamena, and Skopje, and Kelekeok.

      His heart pounding, the pattern suspected, Ronald put in two variables, re-sorted his search, and clicked to create a graph. 

      Nothing but gophers.  Four degrees.  Exactly.

      Absolutely dumbfounded, Ronald fell back into his chair.  If the building had suddenly picked up and flown to the moon he couldn't have been more astonished. 

      Just to be sure, he checked Atlanta, and Venice and Barcelona, but no, all was normal.  Only the capitals.  Even Montreuil, just 14 kilometers east of Paris, was normal, but Paris?  Four degrees.  A gopher.

      "Hey, Banks!"  Ronald started, and looked up to see Mr. Patterson, his supervisor, shrugging at him with the clear question: What the hell are you doing?   Ronald smiled weakly, unable to produce rational speech.  Patterson walked toward him, as Ronald quickly clicked to another program.

      Patterson faced him over his terminal. "You've been sitting here like an idiot with your mouth open for about 15 minutes.  I thought you were having a goddamn seizure."

      "Uh, no, sir, uh, just trying to analyze some data," Ronald rubbed his eyes.  They suddenly felt very dry. "I, uh, just some anomalies, some strange, uh..." Ronald trailed off with a sigh, still looking blankly at Patterson standing over him.

      "What the hell's wrong with you, Banks?  Are you on something?"

      Ronald pulled himself together slightly. "No, sir, but," he sat up and took a deep breath. "But I was wondering if I could print some things out and bring them into your office to look at, some strange things."

      Patterson was getting angry. "Yeah, my office.  Swear to God, Banks, I'm ordering a drug test.  You're goddamned right my office.  Now."  And with that, he turned on his heel and made his way past the rows of computer stations to his glassed-in office on the left.  He turned, once, and said again, "Now!"

      As Ronald began clicking screens and printing their contents, his brain was still trying unsuccessfully to compute the chances that this was a random occurrence, even as he knew a number that great couldn't be understood.  But if it wasn't random, then what was it?  Ronald was absolutely certain that his database was flawless.  He scooped up the pages from his printer, and nearly sprinted into Patterson's office.

      He closed the door behind him, making sure no one was watching.  To the speechless wonder of his boss, Ronald came around and started laying pages out all over his desk in front of him.  Ronald was breathing hard, mumbling incoherently, trying out scenarios and dismissing them.

      "Uh, satellites, focused on just the capitals, no, that's just in the movies, mirrors and such, no, but capitals are usually more populated, maybe some type of sabotage, no, too many, impossible, but where is the heat coming from, above, or below, no reasonable explanation, need to go back, see when it started..."

      "Banks!"

      Ronald stopped, eyes wide, with his arms spread out, left and right, over Patterson's bald head.  He'd never been this close to his boss' head before, and Ronald was suddenly fascinated by the pattern of stray hairs that dotted the shiny surface.  He couldn't resist a quick count, and had gotten up to eight when Patterson's voice boomed out again.

      "BANKS!"

      Moving around, Ronald found a seat in one of the chairs facing his boss.  He answered quietly, suddenly terrified. "Yes, sir."

      "What the hell is all this?"  To Ronald's dismay, Patterson began putting the sheets into a pile.  Patterson's face was redder than usual, and there was a thin line of sweat starting to form on his upper lip. "I should warn you, Ronald, you are about one sentence away from a leave without pay while we figure out what you're on."

      Ronald collected his thoughts, and started slowly. "Yes, sir, I know I'm acting erratically, sir, but the chances of this are astronomical, and,"  To the warning glance from Patterson, he stopped, and then went on.  "As you may know, I have developed a database that tracks temperature anomalies."  Ronald neglected to say that he was using company resources to track about a million other things as well.  Probably not the right time to share that information. 

      Ronald was speaking faster now.  "I have been tracking average temperatures by year, day, hour, minute and second over a very extended period of time, using every resource available.  Sir, I know this will sound crazy," and here Ronald smiled and took a deep breath, "but the temperature of every capital city in the world suddenly jumped exactly four degrees.  During the same second."  Ronald tried to ignore Patterson's blank stare. "Allowing for differences in time zones, of course."

      Patterson blinked.  Ronald shrugged.  The only sound in the room was the tapping of Patterson's wing-tips on the commercial carpet below his desk.  Where are those drug test forms, top right, or top left?  He leaned forward, and said, very quietly. "That's impossible."

      "I know.  That was my first reaction, but it's all there," Ronald indicated the papers on Patterson's desk, "in black and white."

      Patterson sat back again. Banks has always been strange, but I never thought he was delusional.  "So, with all the sophisticated weather equipment we have, how do you figure you're the only one with this data?"

      Ronald was getting very  excited now.  "No, everyone has the data, it's the connection.  No one is making the connection!"

      "Calm down, Banks.  What connection?"

      Ronald forced himself to speak quietly. "Everyone knows it's getting hotter, the four degrees isn't a surprise.  What they haven't put together is the fact that it's all capitals and it was all in the same second!"  Losing control again momentarily, Ronald's voice went up nearly an octave. "No one keeps that kind of data.  No one but me!"

      Time to end this interview.  Patterson subconsciously moved his hand to the top right drawer.  Yes, definitely top right.  "OK, Ronald.  Who else have you told about this?"

      "No one.  I just figured it out.  You're the first one I've told."  Ronald was beginning to sweat from his exertions, and Patterson wrinkled his nose slightly as the body odor wafted in his direction.

      "Good.  Let's just keep this to ourselves for now.  I'll make a few calls, and let you know what I've found out at the end of the day."

      Ronald leaned forward conspiratorially, and spoke almost in a whisper.  "What do you think it is, sir?  Who do you think could do something like this?"

      Patterson shook his head, frowning.  "I just have no idea.  I'll have to look into it.  You go back to work, now, and don't share this with anyone else.  Understand?"

      "Absolutely, sir."  He put his fingers to his lips. "Our little secret."  Ronald stood, and started backing out of Patterson's office. "I'll wait to hear from you."  As he closed the glass door behind him, he saw Patterson getting on the telephone, just as he promised.  He smiled at Ronald through the glass wall, and waved, nodding his head.

      Ronald turned, and started walking back toward his desk.  The words that kept coming into his head were divine intervention.  How else could his database come to the attention of people who mattered?  This would finally do it, and he, Ronald Banks, would be famous for it.  He wondered if he should quit his job so that he could devote himself full time to explaining how it all worked.  There would be TV interviews, newspapers, maybe even a curve named for him.  The Banks Curve.  Taught in statistics classes all over the world.

      Sitting down at his desk, Ronald wondered if databases could be copywrited, or patented.  He looked around to see if anyone suspected what had just happened, but no, the lemmings were all tapping away, staring at their screens, unaware that something extraordinary was going on around them.  He didn't know why this was happening, but he thanked God that it was. Ronald smiled.  Finally, I can change the world.

      That thought was just settling into his brain when Ronald looked up. The bell on the elevator rang and the doors opened, releasing two security guards from inside.  Ronald swiveled to his left, and saw that Patterson was standing now, inside his office on the other side of the glass, pointing at him but looking at the guards.

      "No."  The whisper came from his own mouth, although Ronald was unaware of it.  The guards were moving in slow motion now, but they were moving toward him, relentlessly, down the aisles of computer stations, with all the lemming heads turning in their wake.  And, by process of elimination, all heads turned to Ronald as the guards stopped on either side of his desk.

      "Please come with us, sir.  We'd like to escort you downstairs."

      Ronald sighed.  "I know he thinks I'm crazy, but it's true." He looked from one guard to the other, searching out some glimmer of recognition for his genius. "Just because you don't understand it doesn't mean it's not true."

      "Sir.  Please stand up and we'll take you downstairs."

      Ronald sighed again, deeper this time, and looked over at Patterson.  His face was stony, harsh.  Ronald shut down his computer and pulled his coat from the back of his chair.  He motioned for one guard to walk ahead of him, while the other fell in behind him. 

      Well, Ronald thought, I guess the gophers will have to wait.

---

      Grace and Ellen sat across from each other at Jamie’s long harvest table.  Every inch of the table was piled high with papers, so much so that both women were holding their tea in their laps.

      Jamie walked in and shook his head, laughing softly.  “Tell me, when did I lose control of my own house?”

      Tilting her head, Grace gave him a warning glance. “I know where every piece of information is on this table, and it’s all flawlessly organized.”  She shifted her cup to one hand as she indicated piles with a smug look at her brother. “These are all the people coming and when they’re arriving, this pile is receipts for deliveries that Marjorie has signed for, these are the backorders, and this,” she said with a flourish, “is for you, dear brother!” 

      When Jamie raised her eyebrows in a question, Grace said, “The grocery list.  We’re out of milk.”

      Looking at the list, Jamie said, “This is more than milk.  Jeez, what is all this?”

      Grace smiled sweetly at him.  “Well, as you know, Ellen and I are under house arrest because of Daniel, so no shopping for us, right?”  Jamie nodded. “And Cassie and Robert are coming for dinner, and I may have asked a few others,” she looked at Ellen for help, “maybe Philip and Gerald?”  Ellen smiled and nodded.

      “Anyway, I thought I’d make lasagna, quick and easy, but we need ground beef and tomato sauce, and salad, and bread, of course.”  Grace at least had the good manners to look apologetic.

      “Of course.”  Jamie folded the list and looked at his watch.  “Well, I’d better go if I’m going.”

      “Oh, Jamie, I forgot to tell you.  Robert and I are going out to Inverness tomorrow.  I want to dig up Andrew’s ashes so we can take them to St. Maries.  I figured it would be okay if I had my own personal bodyguard with me.”  Grace looked sideways at Jamie, smiling.

      Jamie snuck a quick look at Ellen, then back to Grace. “Just the two of you?”

      Grace looked wary. “Yes.”

      “No chaperone, Miss Delaney?”  Jamie was peering at Grace under his eyebrows.

      Smiling, Grace said, “No, Jamie.”

      “Will you ….. spend the night?”  Now Jamie was clearly teasing her.

      Grace picked up a a legal notepad and swatted him with it.  “Maybe.”  Then she blushed. “I don’t know.  We haven’t discussed it.”

      Jamie was just about to ask another question when Grace’s cell phone rang.

      “Oh, thank God,” Grace laughed. “Saved.”  The display on her phone said, “Unknown.”  She showed it to Ellen.  They only knew one person whose phone said that.

      “Hello,” Grace said after opening the phone.  She looked up at Ellen and nodded.

      “Yes, Elizabeth, I’m glad to hear from you.”  The room had gone completely silent, as Jamie stood, holding his breath.  “Yes, she’s right here.  Would you like to talk with her?  You’re welcome.  Here she is.”  Grace held the phone out to Ellen, who had a look of pure joy on her face. 

      As Ellen took the phone, she whispered to Grace and Jamie, “You see what I mean?  United against a common enemy.”  She put the phone to her ear. “Hello, dear.  Oh, you got the letter?  Good.  Yes, I’d love to see you.  Tomorrow?  Wonderful.  Call me when you get in and we’ll decide where to meet.”  Ellen’s eyes began to mist as she smiled at Grace.  “Let me give you the number here at the house.  Yes, dear.  We do have a lot to talk about.”

      Grace got up quietly and took Jamie’s hand.  They moved through the swinging door into the kitchen.

      Jamie frowned. “Can we trust her?”

      Grace went to the stove to turn on the burner below the tea kettle. “Ellen told me that part of her task here is to help Elizabeth understand all this.”  She leaned back against the sink.  “I don’t know, Jamie, but she sounded different.  I would bet a lot of money she wasn’t at work, and it’s the middle of the day.  She sounded relaxed.”  Grace laughed. “She sounded human.”

      Jamie looked skeptical. “Well, I’ve never talked to her.  I only know what you all have said about her.”  He opened up a cupboard and looked in. “I think I’ll get some croutons for the salad.  Didn’t Walt say he got her fired?  I thought that was what he said.”          

      Jamie closed the cupboard and turned back to Grace.  “Enough about Miss Preston.  I want to know about you, Graciela.  Do you love him?

      Grace looked innocent, but her blush gave her away. “Who?”

      “You know who.  Don’t get me wrong, I like him a lot, and I think you’re good for each other, but we’re going to be in very close quarters in St. Maries, and we’re looking at going through hell together.  I just don’t want us adding personal drama, you know?”

      Studying the tile on the floor, Grace said very softly, “I think I love him.”  When she looked up, deer in the headlights came to Jamie’s mind.  Grace spoke quickly, “But, Jesus, Jamie, it’s been what, a week?  Ten days?  What am I thinking?”  She put her head in her hands in disbelief.

      Jamie walked over to the sink and put his hands on her shoulders, looking her in the eyes.  “You look happy, Gracie.  Happier than I think I’ve ever seen you, except with Alex.”  Jamie turned his eyes skyward, laughing.  “It’s the end of civilization as we know it, and you’re freaking ecstatic.”  He looked back down at her.  “Go for it, Graciela.  Jump his bones.”

      Grace laughed out loud, and shook her head.  “Crude, but thanks for the advice, big brother.”  Then her eyes softened.  “I love you, Jamie.  You’ll always know me better than anyone.”

      “That’s because I’ve known you longer than anyone alive on the planet.”

      Grace smiled up at him.  “Now we just have to find someone for you.”

      Jamie sighed deeply.  “Graciela, if I haven’t found anyone in the gay capital of the world, I doubt I’ll find him in St. Maries, Idaho.  Maybe I’m just meant to be, as Neil Diamond put it so eloquently,  a solitary man.”

      The kettle began to stir, and Grace reached over to turn off the fire before it started shrieking.  “I don’t believe that about anyone, Jamie.  Especially my handsome, witty, intelligent brother.”

      Jamie pulled a cup down from the cupboard and dropped a bag of Earl Grey into it.  “Here’s hoping you’re right, Graciela.”

      The swinging door pushed in and Ellen entered, looking flushed and happy.  “She’s coming, and she’s bringing someone, her assistant.  I think his name is Tim.  She’s left her job and she’s looking for a new start.  I may get to fulfill Ellen Preston’s wishes after all.”

      Grace put her hand out, and Ellen took it.  “So what do you do once you’ve saved the world and saved Elizabeth Preston?  Do you get to rest?”  Grace suddenly looked worried, and she took Ellen’s other hand. “You don’t have to go back, do you?”

      Ellen laughed. “No, dear.  I get to live out this life.”

      She gave Jamie her other hand and looked at both of them.  “You know, I had a life with both of you when you were children.  And now I get to see you as adults.”  She turned to each with love in her eyes.  “Maybe I’ll get to live to a ripe old age and see the rest of your lives.  Wouldn’t that be nice?”

      Jamie and Grace laughed and hugged her.  Grace kissed her on the cheek.

      ‘Better than nice, Ellen.  Better than nice.”

---

      Ronald stood on the steps in front of the building in the bright sunshine of Atlanta with his briefcase in his hand.  The revolving door was still moving after his hasty exit from what he now assumed was his ex-workplace.  Turning around, he could see the scowling faces of the two security guards, standing with their hands clasped behind their backs, feet apart, looking as if they were just hoping he’d try to come back in the building.

      Although he tried to be upset about losing his job, Ronald knew that something extraordinary was happening, and as he turned to watch the normal flow of traffic on Interstate Parkway, he found himself thinking that he knew something they all didn’t.  He wasn’t quite sure what it meant, but as far as Ronald was concerned, the world had just turned on its ear.

      Turning to the right, he started walking toward the parking garage where his car was waiting.  Usually, he would go straight from the elevator to the second floor of the garage, but the guards weren’t really in the mood for negotiation as they showed him the front door. So it would be a hike up the garage stairs, but Ronald didn’t mind.  He felt as if he were in a bubble,  so lost in his own thoughts that he couldn’t hear anything going on around him, and all he saw in front of his eyes were the calculations of The Graph.  How could it be?  What on Earth could cause such a thing?  Or what NOT on Earth?

      Ronald was, in the great tradition of all geeks, a big fan of science fiction.  And, in that genre, the humans were always the last to know. The numbers that Ronald just saw, he was convinced, could only have happened through outside intervention.

      So, in the final rationalization, it was good that he lost his job.  He needed to find a way to get to the front lines, to people who knew.  The military?  The government?  In the short walk from the front of The Weather Channel building to the parking garage, Ronald decided that he would pack his bags and go to Washington, D.C.  He would talk to anyone who would listen to what he knew.  And he was certain he could help.

      Reaching his car, Ronald started the engine and turned on the radio, fully expecting to hear that the Earth was being attacked by aliens.  Unfortunately, no one seemed overly concerned today, and every station blared out music, or commercials, or the usual blather of cute couples, bantering about their children, or the traffic, or the fascinating experience they had at the grocery store yesterday.  Switching the radio off, Ronald put his magnetic card into the reader at the booth, and watched the wooden bar move up allowing him to pass.

      The worst thing about losing his job was that he now had lost access to information.  Certain that his username and password had already been revoked, Ronald thought frantically about all of the seconds that had passed, and all of the temperature data that was not going into The Graph.  At this very moment.  Pushing down a panic attack, he formulated exactly what he would do when he reached his apartment.  While he checked to see if he was still connected, he would save everything to memory sticks so that they could be accessed again in Washington.  Then, just to be safe, he would begin printing it all out so that he had a hard copy. 

      Even if that pissant Patterson was too stupid to see how monumental this knowledge was, someone would listen to him.

      By the time Ronald got home, he calculated that he had lost 1,380 seconds of data.  Picking up the mail from under the door, he ran to his computer, and opened the drawer of disks and memory sticks that would hold the data until it could be retrieved.  Pushing the power button, he watched nervously as his computer booted up, and absently thumbed through the mail.  

      Soliciations. Everybody wants money.  Well now you’re out of luck, because I don’t have a job.  And of course, since the one time he gave in to a fit of generosity and sent $25 to Greenpeace, he’d found himself on every bleeding heart list there was.

      A green envelope caught his attention.

      The words on the outside intrigued him, so he opened it.

      Inside, he found the answer to the question that had been exploding in his head all day.

      His heart pounding, Ronald picked up his cell phone and dialed the offices of Walt Bonertz.

      “Yes, is Mr. Bonertz there?  It’s very important.”

      “Mr. Bonertz is unavailable.  Would you like to speak to one of his assistants?”

      Ronald’s breath came in short bursts, like he’d been running. “Yes, please.”  As he waited, he read it again and again, muttering to himself, of course, of course, it’s the only explanation. 

      “This is Sarah, how may I help you?

      “Sarah, my name is Ronald Banks.  I work at The Weather Channel.  I have some very important information for Mr. Bonertz.  Can I talk to him?”

      “I’m sorry, Mr. Banks, but Mr. Bonertz is out of town and is unreachable.  Could you share the information with me, and I’ll see if I can get it to him?”

      “Look, Sarah, you know about the letter he sent out?”

      “Yes, sir, I do.”

      “Well, I have a database that proves that what he’s saying about the temperature rising is true.”  Ronald started speaking more quickly, “I’ve been tracking temperature for years, in every increment, and my graph today told me that the temperature in every capital city in the world went exactly four degrees over its average.”

      There was a pause on the other end of the line.  “Well, Mr. Banks, that’s very interesting.  Could I get a number where you can be reached?  We might like to see that data.”

      Ronald stood up in his nervousness, and started pacing his small apartment. “Yeah, I want to show him the graph, but I’m the only one who can read it.”  Ronald made another circuit around the room.  “ And I’ll give you the number, but there’s something else.  It not only went up four degrees, but it went up four degrees in the same second.  All over the world.” 

      Now the pause was longer on the other end of the line.  “Could you hold for a moment, Mr. Banks?”

      Ronald smiled and sat down.  Picking up a pencil, he began to tap it on the table.  Yeah, I’ll hold, sweetheart.  I’ll hold forever.

      The next voice that came on the line was male.  “Mr. Banks, my name is Jeremy.  I wonder if you could explain in a little more detail what you were saying to Sarah?”

      Ronald started from the beginning, waxed poetic about The Graph, and ended with this morning.  “And, now, Jeremy, I’m pretty much screwed, because I don’t have access to the data anymore.”

      “We do, Mr. Banks.  Would you be willing to fly out to Dallas to our offices?  All expenses paid.  I’d like very much to see your graph.”

      Now we’re talking.  “Well, yes, Jeremy, I would love to come to Dallas.”

      “Good.  Would it be possible for you to get on a plane today?”

      “I’ll start packing.  Not much for me here anyway, and it sounds like Atlanta’s not long for this world, huh?”

      “Yes, that’s what we believe, Mr. Banks.  We’ll get you on a flight this afternoon.  I’ll call you with the particulars in about an hour.”  Jeremy took a pause. “Thank you for calling us.”

      “Oh, Jeremy, you are so completely welcome.”

      New World Order, here I come.

---

      Mary Pat Sullivan listened to the hush of the ward, her favorite time of night.  Visiting hours over, the lights dimmed, low levels of activity at the nurses’ station, and most of the patients sound asleep.

      Her soft-soled shoes, white as new sheets of paper, padded down the shiny linoleum corridor as she opened doors quietly and made her rounds.  A few night-owls were awake, reading, watching TV silently with the remote earpieces, but most everyone needed just a tuck here or there, a quick check of the IV drip, or a short conversation to assure her that all was right with the world.

      Mary Pat had been making these rounds at San Francisco General for over 29 years, and unlike the new girls who wore paisley coats or hot pink tops, Mary Pat still wore the traditional white uniform and cap.  She had worked hard to graduate from nursing school, and had been so excited to finally receive her diploma and her cap, she couldn’t imagine going to work without it on.  It made her feel like a nurse, and she thought it gave the older patients more confidence.

      Most of the nurses with seniority wanted the day shifts, but Mary Pat chose graveyard.  She had never married and had no children.  Her cat, Sniffles, had adjusted right along with her to her schedule, and slept happily with her during the day. 

      As Mary Pat gently removed a book from under the hand of an elderly patient who had fallen asleep, she thought about how much hospital care had changed over the years.  In and out.  In and out. People were turned out, practically onto the street, long before she would release them, before they had a chance to heal completely, physically and mentally.

      Insurance runs the hospitals now, she thought bitterly.  They tell us when someone is well enough to leave, and it’s way too soon.  In and out. 

      She turned out the light and quietly went to the door, checking off another patient on the list in her mind.  Thirty-two more on her rounds, ending with Dennis in 1298B.  She was right on schedule.

      And speaking of releases, Dennis was scheduled for later this morning, 9:00 a.m., after her shift was over.  One of the reasons Mary Pat had chosen graveyard was to avoid those awful excursions down the long hallways, pushing a wheelchair with a patient who was barely able to get into it.  Then watching them struggle, with the help of terrified and shell-shocked relatives, into a car at the curb. 

      Mary Pat had walked away from those scenes so many times, knowing that no one in that car was prepared for what lay ahead of them.  If they had enough money, they would simply hire a nurse at home, but for those that didn’t, the care continued by exhausted untrained relatives without the proper equipment.

      And Mary Pat knew that Dennis wasn’t ready to leave either.  Oh, he said he was, but an amputation is a huge shock to the body, and his was done under emergency conditions.  Camping, wasn’t it?  Terrible thing.  Mary Pat hoped that Dennis was still awake so that she could say goodbye to him.  She liked Dennis, and felt sorry for him.  A handsome man like that, so strong, with no one coming to visit him, and now an amputee.  If his health hadn’t been so good, Dr. Bennett said he never would have survived the sepsis,  lying there all week with his leg gangrenous.

      But Mary Pat knew they had cared for him well.  The stump was healing quickly, and Dennis insisted on using the bar above his bed for pull ups.  Many times she had come upon him in the middle of the night as he was exercising.  A strong will, that one.

      As she closed the door on 1297, she thought, He’s going to need a strong will.  Discharge might be scheduled for 9:00 a.m., but he’ll be lucky to get out of here by 4:00 p.m.  Back when she was on day shift, Mary Pat had spent more hours than she could count talking with patients and their families who were packed and ready to go as they waited for discharge papers to be signed.  And Dennis had appointments with Prosthetics, which would take even longer. 

      Mary Pat opened the door to 1298, and thought, Even if Dennis is asleep now, discharge might take so long that I’ll get to see him tomorrow night after all.

      The room was pitch black, even the nightlights had been pulled from the sockets.  Strange, Mary Pat thought.  So as not to wake him, she opened the bathroom door a crack and turned on the light there so that she could see the room better.

      Dennis’ bed was empty, but neatly made.

      The wheelchair and crutches were gone, as were the clothes in his closet.

      Mary Pat stood, hands on hips, disgusted, as she flipped on the overhead light. 

      In and out.  In and out.

---

      Robert couldn’t stop smiling.  He knew he looked like an idiot, but he didn’t care.  In his hands was the leather-covered steering wheel of Jamie’s 1966 Mustang convertible, the car he had dreamed about for as long as he could remember.  And next to him, Grace.  A woman who was unknown to him just nineteen days ago, and was now, unaccountably, as much a part of him as his own skin.  

      And, although neither had spoken a word about it, he knew that it would take a superhuman effort for them to make the drive back this evening without spending the night at the cabin.  Since that first kiss, they had been surrounded by people, always nearby.  They’d gone out to dinner together alone once, but he had taken her back to Jamie’s.  The long kiss goodnight in the darkened hallway after that dinner left them both feeling like teenagers, whispering, wanting, but unable to commit to what came next.

      Me, the confirmed bachelor.  It was hard for Robert to conjure up what made him feel so committed to keeping women at arm’s length.  Everything he could think of, every reason for his solitude, simply didn’t apply to Grace.  Everything just seemed better when she was there.

      He thought back to the day he had first followed this car, and this woman.  Now he was driving to Inverness, taking the same route from Jamie’s house.  But everything was so different on this trip that, as he thought about it, he let a low chuckle escape into the wind.

      “What?”  Grace was smiling back at him, her hand flying up to corral her riotous hair.

      Robert turned to look at her and saw her nervousness, her eyes wide with the question.  She looked vulnerable, wanting to be let in on the joke.  She couldn’t see his eyes behind the sunglasses, couldn’t see the tenderness there, the gratitude.

      Releasing the steering wheel with his right hand, Robert pulled off the glasses and put them in his pocket.  Then he reached over and brushed her cheek gently with his knuckles, stealing looks back and forth from the freeway.

      “I was just thinking that I’m very glad I’m in the car with you instead of following you this time.”

      Grace relaxed, and put her hand on his, feeling its warmth.  Tilting her head, she teased, “You’re sure it’s not just the car?”

      Smiling, Robert looked at her. “Hmmm, well, that’s a tough one.”  When Grace pinched the back of his hand playfully, he pulled her closer to him, and said deliberately, “Let’s just say the combination is more than I ever hoped for.” 

      Grace locked her arm in his and leaned her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes to the sun and the wind.  They rode that way for awhile, and Grace felt such utter happiness that everything seemed to drop away.  She felt safe and cared for, and that no matter what they had ahead of them, Robert would be there with his strong arms and sturdy shoulders.

      Shifting slightly, Grace felt something hard at his side, and pulled his jacket open a bit to see what it was.  She exhaled softly at the sight of the gun in its holster, and couldn’t resist a quick look behind them.

      Robert pulled her gently back to him.  “I don’t know where he is, Grace.  He could be dead.  But I figure it’s better to be prepared.”

      Grace spoke into his shoulder.  “Do you think he would follow us?”

      Robert shook his head.  “Honey, I don’t think he’s in any shape to follow anybody.  He’s either still recuperating, or he’s counting his blessings and laying low.”  Smoothing a set of wild curls so he could see her eyes, Robert said, “He’s not behind us, Grace.”  Then, flashing her a brilliant smile, he said, with mock seriousness, “Remember, you’re traveling with a professional.”

      Grace laughed. “Well, I know, but you’ve already saved my life once.  How many rescues does a girl get?”

      Looking intently at her, Robert said softly, “As many as you need.”

      She smiled up at him, “That’s very good to know.”

      Robert kissed the top of her head and freed his arm to downshift as they took the offramp towards Inverness.  The sun warmed them in the absence of the wind from the freeway, and Grace took the opportunity to pull down the mirror and try to arrange her hair as best she could.

      Now it was easier to talk, and Robert wanted to know more about the reason for the trip. “Tell me about Andrew.”

      “He was one of the people I cared for when I was a home health aide.  I spent about three months with him, right until a week before he died.  He was very dear to me, and was a great teacher.”  She looked over at Robert and smiled.  “The most important thing he taught me was to be less afraid of dying.”

      “I don’t know anyone who looks forward to dying, Grace.”

      Grace took a deep breath, and put the sunshade up.  “Yes, but he gave me absolute proof of where we go.” 

      To Robert’s questioning look, she said, “A dream.  He let me feel what it’s like to be on the other side.  How it feels for two soulmates to reunite after time on Earth.”  She shook her head, laughing, “I’ve never been able to describe it to anyone, but, have you ever had really great sex?”

      Raising his eyebrows, Robert said, “Well, I should hope so, I’m 38 years old, for Chrissakes!”

      Grace kept going.  “No, I mean really great, toe-tingling, out-of-body experience, forget-who-you-are sex.”

      Robert looked sideways at her.  “Are you making me an offer, Miss Delaney?”

      Opening her mouth to speak, Grace stopped, laughing. “Well, maybe, but I need to explain this first.”

      “OK, I’ll try to keep my mind out of the gutter, but, yes, I’m definitely thinking about that kind of sex.”

      Grace rushed on in an effort to make herself clear, straining at her seatbelt in order to look him in the eye.  “Well, that’s what it felt like to be there.  Every nerve ending in my body was alive, and I never wanted it to stop.  But, of course, it wasn’t sex, it was the joining of two souls, but we’re probably so, I don’t know, basic, as humans that the feeling of sex is the only way to get through to us how wonderful it feels up there. Maybe we can’t understand anything that feels that wonderful.  And maybe when sex is that wonderful you actually go to heaven for a few minutes.  You know?”

      Robert wasn’t often speechless.  He looked over at her and wondered how in the world he had ever found her.  Not to mention that his mind was completely in the gutter now, wanting immediately to go to heaven with Grace Jean Delaney.

      A stoplight allowed him to turn in his seat.  Her face was so earnest, her desire to make herself understood so heartfelt, that he pushed down the carnal thoughts he was having and asked himself how he really did feel about it.  This was not the type of thing Robert often thought about, and most of what Ellen and Grace talked about together was way over his usually not very metaphysical head. 

      But he wanted to understand, so he thought about really great sex.  Not much of a hardship to think about, right?  After a beat, he said, “So what you’re saying is that sex may be the only thing we do that transports us that way?  And if that’s what heaven is, maybe dying isn’t so bad after all?”

      Her eyes softened, and she reached a hand out to his arm.  “You do understand.  I can see it.”  Grace took a deep breath and settled back into her seat.  “Thank you.  I’ve tried so often to explain that to people, and no one understands.”

      He squeezed her hand and smiled slyly.  “Well, you helped by explaining it in terms a man can understand.”

      Grace smiled back. “Well, good, I’m glad you could relate.”

      The light changed, and Robert turned away to look back at the road as he spoke.  “It was AIDS, right?  We lost a guy on the Force to it.  Talk about being a teacher.  In case you haven’t noticed, police officers can be a pretty macho asshole bunch, and lots of them couldn’t believe it when they found out he was gay.  But they liked and respected him.”  

      Looking back at her, he said, “I’ve always thought that the best teachers of life are those who don’t tell, but just do.  He had more courage facing that goddamned disease than some of those guys had ever seen.”

      “I know.  Andrew was the same way.  Right up to the end, he never lost his love for life.  He did have doubts about where he was going, though.  We talked about it a lot right before he died.”

      Robert narrowed his eyes at her.  “So you think in this dream that he let you know he’s OK where he is?  And maybe at the same time he kind of showed you where you might be going so you wouldn’t be scared?”

      “Yes, exactly!”  Grace put her hand on his arm.  “You know, you talk a good game about not believing all this stuff, but you really do understand.”  She shook her head.  “Where did I find you?”

      “I was just thinking the same thing about you.”  Robert’s eyes locked on her, threatening their safety on the road, even though traffic was moving slowly.  Grace thought, There it is again.  Love.

      Pulling his eyes back to the road, Robert said, smiling, “Look, I need to concentrate, or I need to pull over before I wreck your brother’s car.  This is interesting to talk about, but try to leave the naughty bits out, OK?  You’re giving me impure thoughts.”

      Before she thought, Grace said. “Good.”  To his sharp glance, she said quickly, “Oh. Sorry.” Smiling, she looked away, busying herself with finding Chapstick in her purse.

      Robert’s voice turned serious.  “So, you really weren’t afraid of dying?  When you weren’t breathing and had no heartbeat, you were essentially dead, weren’t you?  Weren’t you afraid then?”

      “Yes, but only about how it might happen, not about where I was going.  I saw my mother for just an instant, and it was beautiful.  I didn’t want to come back.”  Grace stayed in her thoughts for a moment, and Robert waited for her to speak.

      “But then, once I got back, I realized how much I want to see Alex grow into a man, to hold a grandchild in my arms, to grow old with someone.”  She said the last words softly, almost to herself. 

      Nodding, Robert said, “I do know that feeling.  The times I’ve been in real danger, mostly when I was on the Force, my thoughts always went to Cassie.  If I died, and I went to a place where I could feel regret, that would be it, not seeing her through all the stages of her life.”  He looked quickly at Grace. “And, I don’t think I’d like dying alone.  I mean, without love.”

      Grace tried to think of what to say, but couldn’t find anything that wouldn’t take them over the precipice that they were on, balanced so carefully.  So she just stayed silent and reached again for his hand.

      They drove for a few miles in silence.  A good silence, Grace thought.  The kind that allows two people to be connected but not communicating.  Together and alone.  She smiled to herself, closing her eyes and letting the wind ruffle her hair.

      Robert finally spoke.  “Ellen was lucky to find you, Grace.”

      Grace opened her eyes.  “Well, thank you, but she said it wasn’t luck.  As a matter of fact, she says she knows Andrew.” 

      To his incredulous look, Grace nodded.  “Yep.  She said it was on his recommendation that she asked for my help.”

      As he shook his head, sighing loudly, Grace said, laughing, “Oh, I know.  Meat and potatoes kind of guy.  You have stepped way out of your box, haven’t you, Mr. Hart?”

      “I’m so far out of it, I don’t even know where it is anymore,”  Robert said, still shaking his head.

      Smiling at him, Grace ruffled Robert’s hair.  “You wear it well.  My mother always said that the sign of intelligence is an open mind.  To be putting up with all this craziness, you must be an absolute genius.”

      Robert laughed and looked over at her.  And he saw it too.  Love.

---

      “Chardonnay, dry, please.”  Elizabeth smiled to the flight attendant as Tim asked for a Heineken.  Looking out at the cotton clouds, she leaned her cheek against the cold of the window.  A little under five hours and they would be in San Francisco.  She planned to meet her mother, but beyond that, Elizabeth had no idea whatsoever. 

      She turned to Tim, and saw him drinking in every detail of the First Class cabin.  He had already tested all the positions of the chair, and with his complimentary booties, pillow, blanket and toilet kit close at hand, was looking more like a kid in a candy store than someone spending half the day in a metal tube at 30,000 feet.

      He saw her looking at him, and overcompensated for his headphones by yelling, “Aren’t these great?  What’s the movie?  I ordered lobster for lunch.  Lobster!  Can you believe that?”

      Elizabeth laughed, and pointed at the headphones while shushing him with a finger to her lips.

      “Oops, sorry, didn’t know I was being loud.”  Tim took the headphones off and placed them on his neck, looking around to see if he had disturbed anyone. “I’ve never flown First Class before.”  As Elizabeth smiled at him, he said “You could tell, huh?”

      She patted him on the shoulder, saying, “I had a hunch maybe this was your first time.”

      Tim looked at her with profound gratitude and said, “Thanks, Elizabeth.”

      “You mean you wouldn’t rather be typing Wentworth’s contracts?”

      Tim mimed a pistol aimed at his temple and made a corresponding sound as he pulled the trigger.  Elizabeth laughed.  “Good.  I’m glad you’re here too.”

      For a time they sat, Elizabeth looking out the window and Tim trying all the radio channels.  When the attendant brought their drinks and a bruchetta appetizer, Elizabeth looked at Tim seriously, and said, “There’s something I need to tell you.”

      Taking off the headphones and turning to her, he said, “What is it?”

      “I know I’ve put you off whenever you asked about what happened on that last day at work.  I haven’t been able to focus on it until now, but you have a right to know, since I’m taking you right into the middle of it.” 

      To Tim’s puzzled expression, Elizabeth continued.  “There’s a letter I want you to read.  It’s from Walt Bonertz.”  She reached into her purse and pulled out the green envelope.  Tim took it, read the outside, and shot her a confused look.

      “Read the inside.  Take your time.  Read it a couple of times if you need to.  Then we can talk.”

      After the first reading, Tim leaned against the headrest with an exhale.  The second reading took longer, and at the end, he looked at Elizabeth and simply said, “Wow.”

      Elizabeth turned sideways in her seat, leaning in close.  “What’s your first thought?”

      Tim didn’t hesitate.  “His career is over.”

      Snapping her fingers, Elizabeth said, “My first thought exactly.  What’s your second thought?”

      Tim shrugged.  “He obviously believes it.  Maybe it’s true?”  For a moment, they both stared at each other.  “He’s a brilliant man.  Why would he do something like this if it weren’t true?”

      Elizabeth sighed and leaned back into her chair.  “Unfortunately, that was my second thought too.  That’s why we’re going to San Francisco.” 

      She turned again to Tim.  “You see, my mother is the one who told Walt that this was going to happen.  What does he say, ‘I have it on high authority?’  My mother.  And I have no idea why or how that’s possible.  Up until recently, my mother has been the most afraid, reclusive, withdrawn person you could ever hope to know. Then she changed.  Drastically. At first she threatened to take this theory to the media, but she ended up doing one better.  Walt Bonertz is more effective than the newspapers because people trust him more.  This letter must have gone out to a lot of people.”

      Tim raised his eyebrows.  “Your mother?  Where would she get this kind of information?”

      “She’s never told me, just that she knows it’s going to happen.  I’ll admit I thought she was demented, but it seems that Walt is giving her ideas much more credence.”

      Suddenly, Elizabeth’s eyes softened. “Tim, I don’t know what’s happening to me.  I hurt sometimes, and I never used to.”  Embarrassed, she turned and looked toward the window again. “Everything used to roll off of me, it was all a game, all of it.  The law, all those cases, my colleagues, and especially my mother.”  She turned back to him, and Tim saw that her eyes were moist.  “Even you.  You were just another piece of the puzzle, another person who could help me reach my goal.”

      “When that goal went away, it was like I was naked, alone, and now, sometimes I look back, and all I can see are people, the people whose lives I affected, whose cases I won, or who lost because I won.  And my mother, so sad, so adrift without my father, so depressed.  And all I used to think about was how fast I could get away from her.”

      Tim took a breath to speak, but she stopped him. “And then, at other times, I think like myself again, analytically, unemotionally.  Like the part about Walt’s career being over.  How many people do you think read that letter and thought that?  You did, and I did, but wouldn’t most people feel something first?  It’s like I have this tug-of-war going on inside me, with old crusty Elizabeth and new sappy Elizabeth, and I don’t know who’s winning.”

      Tim reached out and took Elizabeth’s hand.  “You’re not a bad person, so stop beating yourself up.”  He caught a tear just in time with the small, rolled warm towel from the console between them.  Smiling, he said, “Don’t you know that all of us feel that way?  We all have those warring parts of us.”  Casually wiping another tear from her cheek, Tim said conspiratorially, “I’ll let you in on a secret.  I happen to love natural disasters.  Absolutely eat them up.  Can’t get enough news about who lost homes, who died, who survived, exactly what happened.  It’s just sick.”  He held up the letter.  “If this is true, I’ll be in friggin’ heaven.”

      Elizabeth laughed softly.  Tim continued, “I’m not a bad person, am I?”  Elizabeth shook her head.  “Well, neither are you.  Do you know how amazing it is that you’re feeling all this?  You’ve been a little one-dimensional, if I may say so.  I always wondered what you did when you went home.  I didn’t really think that a person could be all business, all the time.  Did you know that last week was the first time in four years that you let me touch you?  And now, here I am, holding your hand in First Class!  What a world this is!”  To illustrate his point, Tim raised Elizabeth’s hand and kissed it, chivalrously.

      Sniffling, Elizabeth smiled at him as she took a sip of her wine.  “You’re a good friend, Tim.  If I am, as I suspect, having a nervous breakdown, I can’t think of anyone I’d rather be with.”

      Tim patted her hand.  “Well, I, for one, like you better this way.  And it’s not a nervous breakdown you’re having, it’s a nervous breakthrough.  You’re growing some very human qualities, and it’s just painful, is all.”

      Elizabeth took a deep breath.  “My mother is moving to Idaho to escape what she thinks is going to happen.  She wants me to go with her.”  She looked sheepishly at Tim.  “Sappy Elizabeth thinks it’s a good idea, of course.  Something about needing to spend time making peace with my mother.”

      Tim smiled. “And old crusty Elizabeth?  What does she think?”

      Elizabeth rolled her eyes dramatically. “Idaho?  Are you kidding?”

      Sipping his beer, Tim said, “Well, I guess we just have to wait and see who wins.”  He placed the chilled glass on the console.  “Um, not to just be thinking of myself, but, uh, where does all this leave me?  I take it neither of the Elizabeths have freelance jobs for which an assistant is needed?”

      Elizabeth smiled at him. “Remember?  I also said I needed a friend.”

      Tim looked down at his hands. “Elizabeth.  I am your friend, but I am not a wealthy person.  I need to work.  Somewhere.  If not for you, then somewhere.”

      Elizabeth matched his solemn tone. “Tim, I have $250,000 in the bank, give or take a few thousand.  Would you agree to being a kept man for a while?  Minus the sex, of course, because I think you’re not interested in that?”

      Tim looked up sharply, and for a moment, Elizabeth thought she might have offended him.  But then he smiled, and picked up his beer again, looking coyly over the rim of the glass.  Putting it down after a healthy swallow, he said, evenly, “Yes, Elizabeth, I do prefer my own gender, if that’s what you’re asking.  And no, I won’t object to being kept for a while.  But only for a while, until we figure out where this dog and pony show is headed.”

      He leaned into the seat, looking sideways at Elizabeth.  “I must admit, Walt’s letter has thrown me for a bit of a loop.  Obviously, my life in DC was not thrilling me, or I wouldn’t be sitting next to you on this plane.  But I thought we were headed to something vaguely similar in San Francisco.  You know, you’d go back to being a lawyer and I’d go back to rescuing your perfectly good legal pads from the trash?”

      Elizabeth gave him a crooked smile.  “I’d hoped that was what we might be doing, Tim, really.  This letter changed everything.”

      Tim nodded.  “I know.  For me too.  Because I have to say, Elizabeth, for whatever reason, I believe it’s true.  I’ve studied Walt Bonertz from the sidelines, and this is not a man who would chuck his entire history on a whim.”  He looked intently at Elizabeth.  “And I say that because, in essence, for him to do that would damage his credibility, which would hurt his ability to fight for this planet, and I don’t think anything could convince him to do that but a cataclysmic event.”

      “Sappy Elizabeth agrees with you.  The jury’s still out with Crusty.”

      Tim laughed hollowly.  “Well, honey, I hope Crusty can swim.”

      Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at Tim. “You do believe it.  Just like that?”

      “Just like that.  I’m a very intuitive person. And my intuition tells me there are big changes afoot.  Does it really surprise you?  I mean, we’ve been battering this planet for a long time now.  No one thinks this kind of thing can happen because, well, it just can’t.  But when you remember that we’re just this little ball rotating in a very large sky, it seems more possible, doesn’t it?”

      Frowning, Elizabeth took a long last sip of her Chardonnay.  Getting the flight attendant’s attention, she held up her glass, asking for another.  Tim turned and raised a finger adding another Heineken to the order.

      Tim tilted his head at Elizabeth. “Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we….”

      Elizabeth interrupted him. “Oh, no, we don’t.  I may be having a breakthrough, but I haven’t lost my wits yet.” 

      She paused, looking at Tim.  Finally, she sighed.  “There will be a need for lawyers in Idaho, correct?”

      Tim nodded, smiling at her. “Yes, Miss Preston, I would think that there would be a need for order in what will certainly be complete chaos.”

      The drinks arrived, and Elizabeth raised her glass to touch Tim’s.  “There won’t be any computers?”  Tim shook his head. 

      “Or lights?” 

      “Nope.”

      “Cell phones?”

      “Not possible.”

      “Not even a fax machine?”

      “Sorry.”

      Elizabeth leaned back in her seat, sighing.  “Well, then, I think I’m going to have to get over the thing with the legal pads.  It was a little wasteful, wasn’t it?  Will you help me, Tim?”

      Tim laughed.  “Elizabeth, I would be honored.”

---

      Ronald thought this must be Heaven.  An office of his own, surrounded by such state-of-the-art equipment that even he didn’t know how some of it worked.  And Ronald Banks had been given an assistant.  Jennifer bustled in and out, and whenever he needed something, from statistics to soup, she found it.  Heaven.

      Indulging just a moment of gloating, Ronald wondered what Patterson would think of this setup.  He even imagined calling him from his new office, but realized that it would be beneath him, and petty.  The new world had no room for pettiness.

      Standing, Ronald looked out the window of his 68^th story corner office overlooking Dallas.  The Bank of America Building, the third tallest building in the city, was home to Walt Bonertz’ offices, taking up an entire floor of young, busy, passionate people fighting for the Earth.  Ronald had no way of knowing what it was like here before all this started happening, but he could feel the urgency in each of them, and it was contagious.

      For the first time in his life, Ronald felt a part of something larger.  He had always felt like a lone wolf, a statistics geek, uncomfortable with too much human contact.  But here he was surrounded by statistics geeks, and they listened, and heard, and understood what he was saying.  It was as if he had landed on another planet, a planet of Ronalds, and he felt part of rather than separate from the human race.

      The reality of what was happening was finally sinking in.  As he looked out over the Dallas skyline he knew that if all this was true, and it was becoming increasingly obvious that it was, none of this would be here in six months.  It had been less than 24 hours since Ronald had received this information, but it was already taking up residence in his brain, and in his heart.

      His heart.  Ronald had been accused by more than one girlfriend of having a heart filled with semiconductors and circuits, but the truth was, he was afraid.  Ronald had a very high opinion of his intellect, but not much confidence in his ways of love and relationships, so he avoided emotional conversations at all costs.  Over the years, it had simply been easier to avoid relationships altogether, but deep inside him, Ronald’s heart had never stopped hoping.

      Now he could imagine a new world, populated with the types of people who surrounded him now.  Smart, logical, passionate people.  This was a world where he could, just maybe, find love.  And that gave him hope.

      So the end of the old world didn’t feel like a tragedy to Ronald.  He actually felt some excitement building inside him.  The same feeling as watching data convert to visual evidence took hold of him.  What’s going to happen?

      Ronald had one job now, and it was watching the capital temperatures.  But instead of increments of degrees and seconds, it was broken down into nanoseconds and fractions of degrees.  The Graph had expanded into a true thing of beauty. The ugly duckling that he had cobbled together on his meager salary was now a swan, flying free in an abundance of hardware and software.  And the temperatures had already gone up by almost a half a degree.  All of them.

      And the man himself, Walt Bonertz, was expected to call him today.  Ronald had his own ideas of Mr. Bonertz, what he’d seen on television and read in the newspapers, but what really struck him was his impression of those who worked with him.  Their tone when they spoke of him combined the reverence for a preacher, the respect for a brilliant scientist, and the pure love for a kindly old grandfather.  Ronald had no doubt that any one of them would lay their life down for Walt Bonertz.

      There was a soft knock at the door before Jennifer stuck her head in.  “Mr. Bonertz is talking to Jeremy right now, but he’ll transfer over to you when he’s done.  Shouldn’t be more than a few minutes.  Are you ready to pick up?”

      Ronald nodded.  His heart was suddenly beating a little faster, and he felt slightly light-headed.  This was surprising to Ronald, but he attributed it to the celebrity syndrome.  Famous people just made the general public nervous.  No logical reason for it.  After all, he knew that The Graph was helping everyone around him, including Walt Bonertz..

      The phone buzzed, and Ronald took a deep breath.

      “Ronald Banks.”

      The slow drawl of Walt Bonertz put him immediately at ease.  “Mr. Banks.  I’m so glad to talk with you.  Jeremy has just been telling me the grand things you’ve put together on that graph of yours.”

      “Thank you, Mr. Bonertz.  I’m very glad to be helping your cause.”

      “Well, son, I’d say the cause is everybody’s at this point.  And your information is going to help us move some others over across that line of not believing this thing is happening.  Lots of people just can’t argue with numbers, you know?”

      “Yes, sir.  Thank you, sir.”

      Walt’s tone took on a lower note of seriousness. “Now, look.  I know you must be wanting to get yourself to higher ground.  Do you have family that you need to move?”

      “No, sir.  I’m not married.  No children.  No brothers or sisters, and my parents are gone.”

      “Well, then you’ll be traveling light, won’t you?”  Walt boomed out a short laugh. “That makes what I’m asking a little easier.  I was wondering if you’d be willing to stay and monitor the temperature changes until the first of July along with the rest of my staff.  You just know better than anyone how that whole thing works.”

      “I was hoping I could, Mr. Bonertz.  It’s kind of my baby.”

      “And I’d be obliged if you’d stay there and feed it, Mr. Banks.  And when my staff moves out, I want you to know that you have a place where we’re all going, so you needn’t worry about your safety.  Just leave that in our hands.”

      “Thank you, sir. I appreciate that.”

      “Now, we’re going to send out a follow-up to that letter you got.  This one is going to tell folks about the four degrees you discovered, and they’ll be able to go to our website to see it for themselves.  I was hoping you could work with Jeremy on how it would be best to show it.  Could you do that?”

      “Yes, sir.  I have some ideas about that.”

      “Good.  That’ll be just fine.  I’m awful glad to have you on our team, Mr. Banks.”

      “I’m proud to be on it, Mr. Bonertz.  Thank you for listening to me.  Some others didn’t believe what I was saying.  It means a lot that you do.”

      “Well, Mr. Banks, what are we here for if not to listen to each other?  You take care, now.  Let Jeremy know anything you need, and you’ll have it.  We’ll see you in July.”

      Ronald said thanks again, and goodbye.  He sat for a long time with his hand still on the receiver.  Now he understood.  After just a short conversation, Ronald Banks knew that he would walk through fire for Walt Bonertz.

---

      Jamie took Ellen’s arm and led her through the cloud of smoke just outside the doors to Baggage Claim.  Sending the smokers outside had been a very good idea, but the concentration of all of them under the protection from the bright sun was a little overwhelming.  Unconsciously, both Jamie and Ellen held their breath until they reached the safety of the large room and the automatic doors closed behind them.

      Remembering the old days, pre-9-11, when reunions at the airport meant watching the plane land and move slowly to the gate, then searching for your loved one’s face in the crowd streaming out of the jetway, Jamie had a moment of sadness.  It was never the same, somehow, standing down at Baggage Claim, or more often, picking someone up at the curb in the car.  The long walk down the corridors of the airport used to be a time for stories, small hugs, and gratitude at seeing each other again.  It was a transition time for the traveler between the plane and the car.  It was civilized, Jamie thought.

      And especially a reunion like this one.  Ellen was clearly nervous, and had talked about it on the drive from the City to the outskirts and San Francisco International.  Ellen had her memories of Elizabeth, certainly, but so much more was at stake here.  As Ellen explained it to Jamie, it was nothing less than her eternal soul, the promise Ellen made when she ‘walked in’ to lead Elizabeth to her higher self.

      Not that Ellen would be reprimanded, or have a black mark on her service, that’s not how it worked, according to Ellen.  It would be regret once it was all over, that sinking feeling during her own assessment of her life here, that she hadn’t done the best she could to show Elizabeth the way.

      Jamie looked around. No place to sit, of course.  The baggage carousels were crowded, except for two that weren’t moving.  In violation of warning signs, some people sat on the edges.

      “How about over here?” Jamie tilted his head toward a relatively empty area near the luggage carts, where they could have a view of the down escalator from the gates, and at least lean against a wall.

      Ellen smiled and followed him.  When they got there, she took his hand in hers.  “Thanks, Jamie, for coming with me.  It’s easier.”

      Jamie squeezed her hand gently.  “Well, first of all, no problem.  But secondly, remember?  You and Gracie aren’t to be left alone for a second.  We still don’t know where the nutcase is.”  Jamie laughed and shook his head, “Not that I would be much help, I’m afraid.  Never did learn hand-to-hand combat.”

      Ellen squeezed back.  “No need.  I feel safe with you.  Thank you.”

      The air was suddenly filled with the sound of the public address system, announcing the arrival of Flight 643 from Washington, D.C.

      Jamie leaned against the glass wall and looked at Ellen.  “So what’s your plan?”

      Ellen shook her head.  “I don’t have one.  I have to see her, and talk to her, before I’ll know what to do.”  Ellen shifted her weight to the other foot.  “Our phone conversation was so short, it was hard to tell why she was coming.”  Looking up at the escalator where they would see her soon, Ellen said, “I have to see her eyes.”

      And she has to see yours, Jamie thought, looking into those deep-blue eyes of Ellen’s.  No one can tell a lie to those eyes.

      They stood in silence for a time, Jamie sipping the Starbuck’s they had picked up on the way, and Ellen staring at the escalator, outwardly calm.

      Ellen’s head bobbed up slightly when she saw Elizabeth, moving slowly down the escalator among the crowd from the plane.  Next to her was a tall, young man with dark hair, who was talking to her, but Elizabeth’s eyes were on her mother, as both women locked on to each other at the same time.

      As she moved closer, Ellen felt it.  Need.  Want.  Relationship.  Elizabeth was wide open, searching, emotional.  The aloofness, the detached feelings that were all Ellen could remember of Elizabeth, were submerged.  The coldness had been pushed down by something else, by questions that demanded answers,  Who are you?  Where did I come from?  What are we to each other?

      Elizabeth stood in front of Ellen, tentatively, her eyes wide and moist. Ellen opened her arms to her daughter, and Elizabeth folded into her mother, feeling small, and for the millionth time lately, felt tears coming full and fast.  Ellen held her, sending thanks up, and gently berating herself for questioning the universal process that she knew was always at work in the world. 

      Jamie and Tim stood across from each other, slightly uncomfortable.  Neither had expected this type of reunion, but each was undeniably relieved that it was going so well.

      Tim was the first to move.  He put his hand out. “Tim Bradshaw, I’m Elizabeth’s personal assistant.”

      Jamie shook Tim’s hand, “Jamie Delaney, I’m Ellen’s…..friend.”

      Tim’s eyes widened. “Jamie Delaney, of Jamie D’s?”

      Nodding his head, Jamie said, “That’s me.”

      Taken aback, Tim said, “Wow.  How do you figure into all of this?”

      Jamie gave him a crooked smile, “And by ‘all of this’ you mean…?”

      Tim put his arms out, expansively, “Oh, you know, mother-daughter reunion, Walt Bonertz, end-of-the world, moving to Idaho kind of stuff?”

      Jamie laughed. “Oh, good.  You’re somewhat up to speed.”  Both men looked over at Ellen and Elizabeth, who were now crying and laughing as they hugged.

      Leading Tim over the the baggage carousel, which had now started moving, Jamie said, “Well, Tim, it’s kind of a long story.”

      Tim tilted his head toward the two women and smiled, feeling somehow that he could listen to Jamie Delaney talk all day.  “That’s OK.  It doesn’t look like I’m going anywhere.”

---

      Grace patted the soil down and smoothed it with the camp shovel.  And the thought struck her, suddenly.  Why?  Who cares if it’s neat or messy?  What does it matter anymore?  And, with that, she plopped down on the new earth and started to cry.

      Robert moved quickly to her side, and sat with his arm firmly around her under the spreading oak tree. “What?  Did you hurt yourself?  What, Grace, what is it?”

      Through sobs, Grace tried to tell him.  “I was just trying to make it look nice under the tree, and I thought, who cares?  Nobody’s ever going to see it.  The water will come up here and take the tree away, and the hill, and all of Inverness.  All of it.”

      Robert held her closer, stroking her hair, until she calmed and just leaned against him, breathing deeply.   He pulled her away and looked into her eyes.  “I know, honey.  It doesn’t seem like it matters, but it does.”

      She looked at him sadly, and almost whispering, said, “Why?”

      “Because we have to have integrity through this thing, Grace.  It’s like Walt said in his letter:  ‘How we go through this will define our humanity.’  There are rules to life, and we need to follow them until we can’t follow them anymore.”

      Grace clutched the small box to her chest and drew energy from Andrew on the other side, and Robert on this one.  She started to feel better, and sat up.  As she wiped the tears from under her eyes, she smeared some of the dirt from her hands into the wet streaks.

      Robert couldn’t hold back a laugh.  “You look like a goddamned football player, honey.”  He wiped the black lines under her eyes and kissed her.  A long, deep kiss that made Grace put the small wooden box on the ground between them as her arms wound tightly around his neck.

      He pushed himself away slowly, and Grace could see his eyes across from her, bright and sharp as the salt air.

      “I’m just going to say it, Grace.  I love you.”

      The joy of those words moved through her, and she spoke quickly. “I love you, too.”

      Robert hugged her tightly and laughed, “Well, that was easy!  Why did I think it would be so hard?”

      Grace laughed too.  “I know.  Me too.  But it’s so fast!  How can it be real?”  She pulled back and looked again at his eyes, and hers were as bright as his. 

      Robert kissed her eyes, and traveled down.  His mouth on hers, he said, “It’s real.  Everything tells me it’s real.  I do love you, Grace,  I love you.”

      Grace felt the chill on her cheeks as the breeze blew across the tears that hadn’t dried yet.  What a trip life is, she thought.  Wild emotions, high, low, then high again.  Well, in this moment, I am utterly and completely happy.

      Robert cradled her head as he placed it on the cool grass and followed her down.  His kiss moved to her neck, teasing at her ears.  Grace gave a soft moan and pressed her full length against his, twining her legs with his legs, locking them together as they moved.  His hand stroked her face and then slowly snaked down to the cleft at her throat, his fingers lightly touching her skin.  As he kissed her more deeply, the tips of his fingers traced the line between her breasts and Grace shuddered.

      Her voice was like a sigh in his ear. “Oh, God, I haven’t felt like this in such a long time.”  She pulled away so that she could see him, and her voice became a whisper.  “I want all of you.”  Robert’s eyes widened as he moved in to kiss her again, but Grace pushed him gently, as she let a low laugh escape.

      “Except for the fact that I have a tree root,” she said, grimacing, “right between my shoulder blades.” 

      Robert buried his head where his hand had just been between her breasts, and laughed too.  “Like a couple of frickin’ teenagers.” 

      Grace’s chest rose and fell with her laughter, and Robert rode it, feeling the softness there, never wanting to move.  But as she arched her back, he helped her up and wiped the grass and leaves from her tee shirt, rubbing at the sore spot.  She laid her head on his shoulder, and said, “That’s just what you make me feel like, a teenager.”  Looking up at him with glazed eyes, she said, “I like it.”

      He kissed her forehead, and asked, tentatively, “You think Jamie would mind if we spent the night here?”

      Grace felt her cheeks flush.  “I’m pretty sure he expected it.”

      Robert pulled her back and looked at her.  “Really?  You think so?”

      Grace laughed.  “Yes.  And you’ve received the stamp of approval from my big brother.  His exact words were: ‘Jump his bones, Gracie.’”

      Robert shrugged and nodded.  “Well, mind your brother, Gracie.  Jump away.”

      Grace teased at his chin, kissing her way up to his lips.  “Could we go find a bed, please?”

      Robert stood up, pulling him with her.  He stooped to pick up the box and place it in her hands, and began to collect their things. 

      As he took her hand and started down the path, he looked back at her. “Just how fast do you think that Mustang can go?”

---

      “And this is your room.”  Jamie was glad for his large apartment as he led Elizabeth into the sunny, whitewashed guest room that overlooked the backyard garden.  He turned to her and, again, saw tears begin to pool in her eyes.

      “Thank you, Jamie.”

      Some barracuda.  This can not be the ruthless lady lawyer everyone’s been talking about.

      Elizabeth turned away, embarrassed, “Sorry, I seem to be a little emotional lately.”

      Jamie smiled at her as he put her bag on the bed.  “You’re not the only one, believe me.  These are crazy times.”  He looked around at the room he had so painstakingly furnished with antique furniture, and ran his hand affectionately across the 1800’s quilt.  “There’s only so much

of this we can take with us, but I think I’ll take this whole room just as it is.  And that,” he said with a crooked smile, “just about makes me cry.”

      Elizabeth laughed lightly. “Well, thank you for letting me stay in this beautiful room.”

      Jamie bowed his head to her.  “You’re very welcome.  Now you get settled, and then I’ll bet we’re going to have tea.  We have a lot of tea since Ellen moved in.”  Jamie spoke with his best British accent, making Elizabeth laugh again as he shut the door behind him.

      Before starting to unpack, Elizabeth made her way to the window seat and sat on the plush pillows there.  She looked out at the tiered garden that rose on the left with the hill behind the house.  There was a sitting area there with rattan furniture on terra cotta tile that looked so inviting, she made a mental note to wander down later.

      For a moment as she took in the bursts of colorful flowers, Crusty Elizabeth surfaced, saying, You’re making a fool of yourself.  Get a grip on your emotions.  Now.

      But the truth was, Elizabeth knew that she was falling, down, down, and she could either panic or she could just go with it.  The crying felt a little like the laughter she’d recently discovered.  It was a release that felt entirely foreign to her, but was such a relief at the same time. 

      And, when Elizabeth admitted it to herself, since that moment in her office when she had laid her head on her desk, she had just been so tired.  So tired of being the good soldier, so tired of always working, and so tired of keeping her armor up.  But most of all, she was so afraid that she would lose it all. 

      And I did anyway, didn’t I?

      There was a soft knock on the door, and Elizabeth said, “Come in,” without turning her head from the colors below.

      “Just wanted to be sure you have everything you need.”  Ellen’s voice washed over Elizabeth like cool water, and she turned and smiled.

      “Thanks.  It’s beautiful, isn’t it?  Jamie’s very generous to let us all stay here.”

      “They’re good people.  I’m grateful to have found them.”

      Elizabeth moved around to face her mother, and tilted her head, frowning.  “OK, there it is again.  That’s just a really interesting way to describe what has happened here.”  Elizabeth sat up, and motioned for her mother to move the bag and sit on the bed across from her. “Grace actually found you, and it was because I hired her, Mother.  Why do you say you found her?”

      Ellen smiled patiently at her daughter, with infinite love in her eyes. “Am I being cross-examined, dear?”

      Elizabeth laughed, and shook her head.  “Sorry.  Old habits.  I guess it’s just the way I’ve learned to ask questions.”  She smiled up at Ellen.  “I’ll try to be a little less intense.  There’s just so much I don’t understand.”

      “I know, and I want you to understand.”  Ellen’s eyes deepened in their blue.  “But some of it will be very hard for you to hear.  Are you ready for that?”

      Sighing, Elizabeth said, “Well, as long as you don’t mind if I cry every five minutes.  For some reason, I’ve been a little teary lately, but I seem to be able to listen and function while I’m doing it.  Just ignore that part, OK?”

      “You’re crying because your heart is opening up.  It’s something to be very glad for, sweetheart.  Some people never find those tears.”

      Elizabeth took a deep breath, “Here they come again, just like that.  What you said just then squeezed my chest, which in turn sent a message to my eyes to drip.  It’s amazing.”  Laughing and shaking her head, she said, “I’m falling apart, Mom.”

      Moving to her side, Ellen put her arm around Elizabeth and laughed, “Oh, no you’re not.  It’s wonderful.  I’ve been so worried about you, always so controlled, so hard.”  She pushed away slightly from her daughter so she could see her face. “Don’t you know that no one is that much in control?  No one?”

      Elizabeth wiped below both eyes quickly, “Well, not me, that’s for sure.”

      Ellen saw Elizabeth’s eyes drift out toward the garden.  She sat up straight and said, “It’s a gorgeous day.  Why don’t we get some cranberry tea and sit right out there and talk?  There’s an umbrella for some shade.”

      “I’d like that.  But we’d better take some Kleenex.  I don’t go anywhere without them these days.”  Elizabeth stood and reached into her purse for the travel pouch and held them up for Ellen to see.  Ellen stood and hugged her daughter.  “Bring some for me, too.  Never too much Kleenex.”

      They moved down the long hallway, passing by Jamie’s office, where Alex was doing research at the computer.  He stood to shake Elizabeth’s hand, and she asked, “Is your mother here?  I was hoping to meet her face-to-face.”

      “No, she’s just taking care of some stuff out at our cabin.  She should be back tonight, or,” Elizabeth saw a shy look pass between Alex and Ellen, “or maybe tomorrow.”

      Curious, Elizabeth said evenly, “I’ll look forward to meeting her tonight, then. Or tomorrow.”

      As Ellen pushed the swinging door open to the kitchen and put on the water, Elizabeth asked, “What was all that about?”

      Ellen smiled and winked at her. “Alex’s mother has fallen in love.  We’re all very happy for them.”  Pulling the tea down from the cupboard, she turned to Elizabeth and said, “And you, my dear, were their Cupid.”

      “Me?”

      “Yes, Elizabeth.  It’s one of the amazing things about life.  You never know where the ripples of your actions will lead.”

      “But I hardly know Grace, and I certainly don’t know anyone she knows.  How could I…” As Elizabeth spoke, her lawyer’s mind was working, and it quickly found the connection. “Ooh.  Not Robert Hart?”  When Ellen nodded, Elizabeth laughed. “Well, no wonder he never called me back.”  And then, just as suddenly, her laughter turned sour as the memory came back.

      Elizabeth pulled the tissue out of her pocket and dabbed at one eye.  “What you all must have thought of me.  What they must have said about me.”  She looked up at Ellen.  “I’ve been fighting all of you, and you’ve all been fighting for your belief in this, what, shift?  But I didn’t want it to affect my case, and Bonertz got me fired anyway.  And now he’s written that letter and the whole world knows about what I tried so hard to keep quiet.  And my private investigator dumps me and falls in love with the person I wanted to keep you quiet…” 

      Now Elizabeth was smiling, then laughing as Ellen joined her.  “Oh, God, Mom, what a mess!” 

      The teakettle rattled up to a whistle, and Ellen got it and poured the steaming water over the teabags in the pot.  “Yes, a mess.  A beautiful mess, dear.”

      Elizabeth and Ellen put the cups and the pot on a tray with a small plate of chocolate chip cookies.  They were still smiling as they moved out the back door and into the garden.

      “Wow, this is even prettier from down here,”  Elizabeth said, breathing in the aroma.  “I’ve never gardened.  Never had the time.”  Absently, she stroked the petals of a rose.  “Never had time for much of anything, I guess.”

      Ellen set the tray down on the table.  “And now you have all the time in the world, don’t you?”  She looked mischievously up at Elizabeth.  “Funny how it all works, isn’t it?”

      Suddenly a flash of anger overtook Elizabeth.  “You know, Mother, I’m not really happy about my career and everything I’ve worked for going down the toilet.  I’m coping, but just barely.  That was my goal for a long time, that partnership, and it’s just gone.”

      Ellen’s face was passive as she silently poured the tea out and put a cookie on the saucer of Elizabeth’s cup.  She passed the cup to her daughter, poured her own tea, then leaned back into her chair, blowing over the top of the cup quietly.  Her eyes stayed on her daughter, patiently waiting.

      Elizabeth took a sip of the hot tea and flinched.  She looked at Ellen.  Elizabeth was still angry, but calming.  “Sorry.”  Breaking eye contact, she looked down into the cup.  “I seem to be saying that a lot lately.”

      Putting her cup down, Ellen placed her hand on Elizabeth’s arm.  “There’s nothing wrong with you, honey.  You’re going through some very big changes.  It’s okay to be angry, and sad and happy.”

      Elizabeth smiled thinly.  “All in one minute?”

      “Yes, all in one minute.”  She picked up her cup again. “I’m sorry I was treating it lightly.  I know it’s been a great loss for you.”  Ellen took a long sip, breathing in the aroma of cranberries.  “But I’m not sorry you’re here.”

      “Why am I here?”  Elizabeth raised her eyebrows and shook her head.  “Why did I suddenly get on a plane and come here?”

      “Because you need answers.”

      “I’m not even sure I know what questions to ask.”

      Ellen leaned forward, taking a cookie.  “Well, let’s get started then, and we’ll see.”  She took a small bite.  “You want to know what happened to me.  Why I’ve changed so much.  Why I’m no longer depressed.”

      Elizabeth nodded.  “Now that you mention it, yes.  That would be a hell of a start.”

      Ellen took a deep breath.  “I want to start by saying that I am your mother.  No matter what else I say to you, you must know that I remember every minute of your life, and my life with your father, and what my hopes and dreams were.  I have all those memories, and I hope to make many more with you in the years to come.  I am your mother, Elizabeth.”

      Frowning, Elizabeth said carefully, “That’s good to know, because I’ve wondered about that lately.  And I have to admit that you seem like a different person, but that may just be because up until recently, I couldn’t remember ever hearing you laugh.  And now you laugh a lot.”

      “I’m happy, dear.  I’m happy to be alive and on this planet.”

      Elizabeth narrowed her eyes.  “That’s an interesting way of putting it, Mother.”

      Ellen laughed.  “Have you ever noticed that when you’re open to the things I’m saying, you call me ‘Mom’ and when you’re being suspicious or angry, you call me ‘Mother’?”  She took another bite of cookie.  “Could we just stick with ‘Mom’?”

      Letting go of a little of the tension that had crept into her neck, Elizabeth smiled.  “That’s fair.  Why did you say ‘planet,’ Mom?”

      Elizabeth watched the blue in her mother’s eyes grow deeper in the pause that followed.  She felt herself being pulled into them, and on some level, she knew that they couldn’t lie.

      “Elizabeth, this is the part that will be hard for you to hear.  Will you promise to stay here with me until we’re done?”

      “Yes, but now you’re kind of scaring me.  Planet, like just an expression?  Or planet, like you’re an alien?”  Elizabeth laughed nervously at her own joke.

      “Not exactly, dear.”

      Elizabeth’s eyes flew open wide, “Not exactly? Not exactly, but sort of?  What in the hell are you talking about, Mother?  Mom?”  Elizabeth took a deep breath.

      Ellen sat up straight.  “OK, I’m going to appeal to the lawyer in you.  Tell me the difference between the body and the soul, Elizabeth.”  Seeing the look on her daughter’s face, she added, “Please humor me.”

      For a moment, Elizabeth considered the question without trying to understand the reason it had been asked.  This was often the best way to get around a sticky problem in the law, and this was definitely one of those times.  She tried to remember her studies of mind-body dichotomy from college, and particularly Dr. Hansen, who talked endlessly about it.

      “OK.  The body is the physical form, from the material world.  The mind is the center of thought and ideas, so some call it immortal.  Mind and soul can be interchangeable, depending on the religious bent of the person talking.”

      “And reincarnation?”

      Elizabeth sighed, feeling as if she were taking a test. “The belief that the mind or soul leaves the material body and goes somewhere until it’s joined with the physical again in a new body.”

      “And what do you believe?”

      “Well, Mom, I haven’t thought about it a lot, to tell you the truth.  When I have thought about it, it seems a nice concept, but it would be a lot more useful if we could bring our memories forward to the new life instead of just forgetting.  That always seemed pretty convenient, and honestly, contributed to the lack of provability of the argument.”

      Ellen poured out another cup of tea.  “Can you accept the possibility that the soul, or mind, and the body are separate from each other?”

      Elizabeth tilted her head.  “If pressed, I guess I would have to say that since it’s a central tenet in nearly every religion and philosophy on Earth, and believed by most of the human population, yes, I would consider that it’s a possibility.” 

      Ellen sat back and exhaled.  “Good.  That’s a start.”

      Elizabeth couldn’t believe she was having this discussion with her mother about a subject as esoteric as the mind-body dichotomy.  The mother she had known couldn’t even bear to talk about death, much less rebirth.

      “A start for what?”  Elizabeth was losing patience now, and Ellen could feel it.  Better to just jump in.

      “Promise you won’t get up and leave.”

      “I promise.”

      “I love you, Elizabeth.”

      Sighing, Elizabeth said, exasperated. “I love you, too, Mother.”

      Ellen looked her daughter directly in the eyes.  “My soul, the one that lives in this body now, has all the memories, emotions, and love for you that your mother’s had when she and I traded places three and a half months ago.”  Taking Elizabeth’s hands in hers, Ellen continued.  “She was so tired, Elizabeth, and she didn’t want to go on living.  She transferred everything she knew of this life to me, and I stepped in for her.  I love you in every way she did, but now even more, because my soul wants to be here.  I’m not tired, or depressed, or worn down by life.  I love life, and I love you.  You are my daughter.  Can you understand that?”

      Elizabeth blinked.  Once.  Twice.  And then she remembered to breathe.  The amazing thing was that what Ellen just said made more sense than any other explanation for the sudden change in her mother.  At least once you get past the whole “soul flying around” thing.

      She was aware that her eyes were darting back and forth to Ellen’s, and also aware that she was frowning.  And she could understand the mind-body dichotomy a little better, because her mind was racing while her body sat perfectly still.  She gently pulled her hands from Ellen’s and finally, she found her voice.

      “You traded places?  What does that mean, traded places?”

      “Her soul left this body, and mine came in.  But not before transferring all of her memories and experiences to me.”  Ellen remembered something Alex had shown her on the computer.  “You know, like copying a disk?  The disk has its own information, but you can copy more on top of it.  That’s what it’s like.”

      “A disk.”  Part of the logic was beginning to seep into Elizabeth’s brain, and years of training came back to her.  No matter what the client says, find the grains of truth.  And Elizabeth had heard some pretty crazy stuff from her clients. 

      “If you weren’t my mother before you ‘traded places,’ then who are you?  Or who…were you?”

      “I have taken on many, many lives, Elizabeth.  And so have you.  We all have.” She let that sink in for a moment, and sipped her tea. “And, yes, it would be more plausible to you right now if we could remember all those lives, but that would be like seeing the test before you take it, you know?”

      Elizabeth didn’t know.  Right now I don’t know anything.  But from her work with countless people, all different types with all different stories, she was able to suspend her disbelief, no matter who she was talking to, and look for the solution. 

      She was listening to Ellen, but Elizabeth’s considerable skills allowed her to listen and assess at the same time.  What she was assessing right now was how compelling, how charismatic this woman was.  Like movie stars that can take almost any bad script and still make you want to watch them, just because it’s them.  Perhaps her mother was mentally unhinged, but Elizabeth couldn’t take her eyes off of her.

      “I am Ellen Preston now, in every way.  It’s very important to me that you know that, Elizabeth.  Your mother isn’t gone, I’m right here.  I know just what you looked like the moment you came into the world.  I know what it felt like to carry you in here.”  Ellen put her arms around her abdomen.  “I know how it felt to make love with your father when you were conceived.”

      Elizabeth allowed herself a smile. “I may not need to know about that, however.”

      Ellen laughed.  “Probably not a picture you need.  But the point is, I know you, Elizabeth.  In every possible way that a mother knows a daughter.” 

      Elizabeth looked deeply into Ellen’s eyes, and, no matter how hard she tried, could find no artifice there.  If this was insanity, it was complete.  And no matter how bizarre the story, Elizabeth liked this woman.  Deep in her heart, this was the mother she may have always hoped for.  Someone intelligent, aware, who sees the humor in life, not too stuffy or rigid, allowing of other people’s  moods, the whole package was right here.

      And before she could stop the thought, it came.  This is the best of my mother.  This is who Ellen could be under the best of circumstances, and the only logical reason for the diametric change in the woman before her was the explanation she had just been given, or something equally unbelievable.

      “Your tea is cold.  Let me get you some more.”  Ellen took the cup and poured what was left into a nearby flowerbed.  After she handed Elizabeth the fresh cup from the still-hot teapot, Ellen took her hand.

      “Can you tell me what you’re feeling?”

      “Well…I’m thinking that’s a pretty amazing story.”

      “Not what you’re thinking, sweetheart.  What you’re feeling.  You’ve been feeling a lot lately, haven’t you?  Can you tell me?”

      Searching for feelings over logic was a new study for Elizabeth, so she had to take a moment.  As she did, she looked into Ellen’s eyes, trying to put what she felt into words.

      “I guess I would have to say that I like you better this way,”  Elizabeth said, smiling.  “You look like my mother, but everything else about you is different.  There’s something different in your eyes, especially.  I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

      Ellen smiled a dazzling smile. “Well, dear, they say the eyes are the windows to the soul.”

      Elizabeth laughed. “Yes, they do, don’t they?”  A cloud suddenly passed over Elizabeth’s face. “But if you’re here, where is my mother….uh…her soul? Is she OK?”

      Ellen squeezed Elizabeth’s hand, “Oh, she’s more than OK.  She’s doing what I call ‘going through her filing cabinet.’  She’s looking over her whole life here and imagining what she could have done better, giving herself acknowledgement for so many things she did well,” Ellen’s eyes sparkled, “and she’s reconnecting with your father.  She missed him so much.” Ellen let go of Elizabeth’s hand. “They’re soulmates, you know.  They’ve had many lifetimes together.”

      Elizabeth smiled at that, not knowing why that made her feel so good. “I’m glad.” Suddenly, she shook her head, as if from sleep, “Whoa, this is just weird.  I’m missing her, but you’re sitting right in front of me.”

      “We’re both here, Elizabeth.  And we’re both there.” To Elizabeth’s confused look and cocked head, Ellen laughed. “There are so many more dimensions than we can understand in the human form.”  She patted her own forearm. “This is a blessing, and a curse, this body.  It allows us to experience the wonders of life here, but it limits us in so many ways.”

      Elizabeth let a laugh escape, one of the new laughs, like bells, that she had recently discovered. “No wonder Grace kidnapped you.  I could have had you committed in a hot second!”

      Ellen laughed too. “That’s exactly what she told me.”

      Elizabeth took Ellen’s hand now. “Well, Mom…no. Can I call you Ellen?”

      “Whatever you want, dear.”

      “Ellen, I like you better.  I don’t need to know the reason.  I like you better.”

      Ellen looked right back at her.  “Well, my dear daughter, dear Elizabeth, I could say the same thing about you.”  As Elizabeth watched, Ellen’s blue eyes truly became blue pools of water, and she felt the same squeeze on her heart as her eyes filled too.

      “One last thing, Elizabeth.”

      Elizabeth sighed. “There’s more?”

      “As your mother left this body, she had only one condition, only one regret for unfinished business.”

      Concern creased Elizabeth’s forehead. “What regret?”

      “For you.”

      “Me?”

      “She wanted to be sure you were safe. Will you come with us, Elizabeth?  It’s really going to happen.  Everything Walt said.  I love you so much, honey. Please come with us.”

      Now the tears fell, and another crack opened in Elizabeth’s heart. 

      Elizabeth smiled.  “I think I’d already decided to, but now I’m sure.  Yes, I’ll come.”

~~~~~