Chapter 22 – DAY 2
Marianne woke up early (as usual) and thought about the previous night. On the one hand, it was fun; he was nice, she had a good time. On the other hand, she had been pushy with that phone message and probably scared him off. Which, on the third hand, may be a good thing because she had too many other things to concentrate on without that kind of distraction. On the forth hand, she really wanted that kind of distraction. She missed it and didn’t know how much until last night. Then, to make things worse, that overprotective (‘I should talk’) kraut lawyer saw her sneak in at such a late hour.
Marianne steeled herself for a morning of half hidden smirks. Probably be a few bouncing eyebrows, too. Well, nothing to do but to get out and start breakfast, ordering it, that is. That’s the kind of kitchen she liked best, someone else’s. Though no slouch at the oven, she had too many other duties to juggle.
Marianne quick-showered, threw on her sweats (she learned a long time ago that Victoria’s real secret was that flannel was far more comfortable, though the other options in the catalog might be interesting...“Damn, stop that.”). She opened the door, quietly so as not to disturb the sleepers and stopped cold, mouth half agape, eyes unblinking.
Everyone was up and doing things, quietly. It was like a silent movie. The breakfast tray was there, coffee cups were on second fillings (with napkins set in the saucers to prevent clinking) and she had slept through it all! She checked her watch, but it was 7AM on the nose, as planned. Rachel walked by with a read-out in her hand of some kind and executed a perfect cup relay with her coffee, just the way she liked it (sweet and light enough to qualify for liquid candy). Allen and Gustav were at the PC, no, there were two PC’s now, each working at their own and comparing notes, quietly. Ryan was sitting, sipping and reviewing whatever it was that Rachel had handed him. When everyone noticed that Marianne was awake, the noise levels quadrupled as Gustav, Allen, and Rachel now began using SatComs and the hotel phone. Rachel was coming again with another readout in her left hand, a plate in her right. The latter was placed on a coffee table next to where Marianne was standing and the now free hand was used to firmly place Marianne onto the couch. The first order she was given that day was delivered. “Eat, you’ll need it.”
No one was saying anything to her or about her. “Of all the - ignoring me - working? - early - no one called me. What the, who the, when?”
Rachel, on her way back, gave order number two. “Stop thinking, start chewing. We need you up and running and your blood sugar is low. Move it, lady.”
What was this, revenge? Culture shock wore off and here was one Sicilian who was fed up with this nonsense. The cup went down, the woman stood up. “EXCUUUUUSE MEEEE!” (silence) “That’s better. Would someone please tell me what is going on here?”
With deadpan expressions, Ryan got up and walked Rachel over to the table where Gustav and Allen were sitting. The latter two rose to stand with their accomplices. Allen pushed a pre-arranged button on his PC and a clear, unwavering tone emitted. Middle C. Four voices, in harmony, sounded a preliminary ‘hummmm’. Silence again, with Marianne completely baffled at what new madness was before her, which had taken the place of the old madness noted earlier. Ryan raised a spoon he had in his hand and tapped a rhythm on the rim of his coffee cup. Soprano, Alto, Tenor and Base blended with barbershop precision. “Marianne and Ralphie, sitting in a tree, Marianne and Ralphie sitting in a tree, K I S S I N Geeeeeee.” They stopped, bowed and all gave the biggest brow-raised-wide-eyed smiles on cue, simultaneously.
Marianne grabbed two couch pillows and, with a Sicilian war whoop, tore divots in the carpet with mayhem on the docket. The gang of four yipped merrily and began frantic evasive maneuvers.
It was at this moment when Ralph opened the suite door to the hallway, it having been left unlocked for him. He stood transfixed as the lady who was so pleasant, articulate and warm last night had undergone a transition into something else entirely, but he wasn’t exactly sure what. Whatever it was, it looked like fun. So, he walked calmly to the second couch and picked up a two and a half by four foot cushion. Allen had just evaded a throw pillow roundhouse and was making good his escape when face and body met covered foam. He made a satisfying ‘wooomph’, crashed and burned.
Marianne saw it and was pleased. “They are evil conspirators, Ralph! Save me!”
“Save HER?” chorused said conspirators. Seeing the odds had shifted to only a two to one numerical superiority, they dropped to their knees, asking leniency and promising to be very good from now on.
Ralph walked up to Marianne. “Dr. Cabrini, I suggest doubling their prescriptions and calling up their respective analysts.”
“Concur, Dr. Kithcart. The drug cart is on its way now. Bad patients! Bad! No pudding tonight!”
Four semi-repentants begged for mercy, one of which was rubbing his nose. “I thought couch cushions would be softer than that,” said he.
Ralph countered. “Nose and butt sensitivities are tuned differently, young man, unless you are attempting to get a promotion from Boss.” That one did it, sending the faux-penitents rolling about on the floor. “My lady, what was it that these scoundrels did to you, anyway?”
“I’ll show...um…I’ll tell you later.”
For some reason unknown to Ralph, the galloping giggles redoubled. Mass hysteria, if ever he had seen it. Well, it wasn’t going to be dull. He went over and poured himself a cup of black, the way he and Allen liked it, and waited for the whimsy to die down. He was early, anyway. Ryan soon got that ‘let’s get down to business’ look and things settled down again despite random snorts and sighs.
“Let’s get started, folks. Vanessa wasn’t here for the fun and she’ll be the grumpier for it. We’re going to try to get a handle on what to do when Monkey takes control of Mad Annie. Marianne, we all hope you will find it in your heart to go easy on us miscreants. Ralph, get used to it, and thanks for helping our poor defenseless damsel. Keep up the good work, m’boy.
“We actually were working early, which was decided upon while two of our number (Ralph liked the sound of that) were off getting acquainted. We’ve touched bases with Homestead security, just in case something goes askew today. Heaven knows what, for we sure don’t.
“The Shark and the Kid put the final touches on getting all lights green with liability issues. Weather reports all look excellent for tomorrow. Let us hope the Homestead will still be in one piece for the following day’s wind-down.
“Ralph, hope you wore your rawhide boxer shorts. We’re leaving in an hour for the stables. Allen, you, Mamma-san and Gustav are to remain here and be ready for anything.
“Marianne, you take off with us. Ralph will drop you off at the Homestead, then he and I will head for the stables. Are we all clear on our roles? SatComs charged? OK, just enough time for us to finish breakfast, and see to it that the hotel clean up staff doesn’t have kittens when they come in later to tidy up.”
After the common area looked less slovenly, three left for the elevators while three set up the home base. The two PC’s would monitor all SatComs. Speed dialers were already programmed for the fire department, police, all the group’s SatComs and Homestead security. Now, the home base team could only wait.
Annie was on the porch. The sun was about to rise and the sky had a sleepy blush to it. Vanessa had stayed the night, talking with her friend. “Dearest Annie, try and resist the change as long as you can. Your mad self may be weaker now. We need to know if they work together, or if Monkey takes the leash later on.”
“We’ll know soon, Dear. Very soon. In fact, I can feel her coming, pushing. You’re right, she is weaker. No more talking now unless I say so. Don’t distract me now.”
Vanessa stood in front of Annie offering silent support. That was all she could offer and that was what she gave, unwavering. Annie’s expression was one of concentration and effort, like a student faced with a one-que
stion-takes-all final examination. The sun peaked out from behind the mountains. Vanessa only knew it from the light on the porch, for she refused to turn her face away from her embattled friend. The focused look on Annie’s face continued, with the only change being a slow motion of the jaw or tightening of the lips. Once in a while there was a slight jerk of her head, like something tried to slip by and was caught just in time. Vanessa wondered how long Annie could keep this up. The concentration, the support she was giving, reminded her of giving birth to Obediah…but this was the reverse. This time, it was to resist a ‘birth’ as long as possible…not encourage one.
“I can hold, it back. It’s strong, but not that, strong. Monkey-Me isn’t, there, yet. Maybe she can’t show, unless Mad-Me, comes first.”
Silence again. Annie was marshalling her strength, which seemed odd. Spirits normally don’t tire or fatigue. This was a different kind of energy expenditure. Annie was fighting herself. Vanessa thought about something she had heard once in a sermon in Selma. Jesus was accused of being in league with the Devil. His answer, which couldn’t be countered, was that He was casting out demons and therefore casting out the Devil. “A house divided against itself cannot stand.” Annie was a house divided against herself. Annie was weakening herself, probably, hoping to weaken her hold on the men and the children, and on Allen.
The sun was fully up. The shadows had begun their daily creep. Nighttime Annie remembered mornings on the porch when she was alive, when she noticed landmarks of telling time by the sun’s shadows. She had taught those to Vanessa, even though only Mad Annie had been daytime-conscious to witness it all these centuries. Vanessa’s Annie had to wrench her focus away from her first sunrise in all that time and towards the issue at hand. Could she hold out past the time the children usually showed up and the soldiers began their march?
Ryan had once spent the time and effort to catch the men at their form-up location, at the outskirts of Annie’s sphere of influence (he hoped), to make a break for it in the opposite direction. That was a worthy goal, but the effort failed. It seemed that Annie might not have a distance limit on the control, despite the limit they had recently found on the dream link. Vanessa had been there with Ryan when the appearance manifested itself. One moment there was nothing but woods and the next, there was shimmering all around them. Colors and shapes swirled, creating a sight that would turn the old Star Trek special effects techies an envious green. When the colors and shapes were fully present, though amorphous, there was a sudden snap and all soldiers and horses were intact. The soldiers’ eyes were closed, but gradually fluttered and opened as if they had been asleep. A few moments later, they regained their powers of speech. She remembered the sadness in their eyes at awakening once more to their purgatory.
Those memories recalled for Vanessa the time when Ryan had spoken of ‘Old Hannah’. It was a slave term, meaning the sun. “Won’t you go down Old Hannah. Well, well, well. Don’t you rise no more. If you come up, Old Hannah bring Judgment Day.’ The sun was up, but it wasn’t Judgment Day, yet. It was 8:15AM, or there about. Still no Monkey and no Mad Annie. In 40 minutes, the soldiers would normally appear. Five minutes later they would set off from Little River. In a short time after that, the children would appear.
Annie’s face began to strain more, her eyes widening to the pressure that cycled in waves. No one of them were bigger than the previous ones, but there was an eroding effect of their constant, slow rhythm.
“She’s trying to, wake up. She’s, asleep, I think. She knows, the sun, is up. She’s blind, can’t use her eyes yet, but she senses, the sun, somehow. I feel, feel, Monkey, behind her. Trying to wake, up, bottled genie, like. Mad, is, cork, in, bottle.” Silence again. If ghosts could sweat, there’d be a puddle on the porch. “Time?”
OK, that was a question. Vanessa could answer it. “Quarter to nine, hold on, Dear.”
“Trying, getting harder. Get, coffee, going, Dear.”
“If only I could, closest friend, if only.” Vanessa hoped her unspoken thoughts were of some help. She wanted to do something, anything, to help cheer Annie on, but that would disrupt her concentration. All she could do was what she was doing and feel helpless.
Annie’s effort was more visible now. Teeth that didn’t really exist in the real world were clenched. Her brow was furrowed, eyes narrowed. Annie’s head rocked slightly back and forth, like she was almost bobbing in the gentle but remorseless onslaught of Mad Annie’s efforts. If it was getting harder, then Monkey was pushing at the cork. If that was true, Monkey was going to come out riding the good ship ‘PMS Royal’. The bond she shared with Annie must have communicated that thought, for the same thing occurred to her a moment later.
“Time!” hissed Annie.
A glance at the shadow of the porch railing. It had passed the knothole that looked like a smiley face. “Just past nine.”
Annie smiled, but that stopped quickly. With her last ounce of strength left, “GO!”
It was the pre-arranged signal for Vanessa to disappear unceremoniously from direct line of sight. She had pre-chosen Ryan’s location, wherever that might turn out to be. She would briefly report, then get back as though she had just arrived. She still felt like a chronic abandoner; first Selma, then the kids (daily) and now her best friend. Lousy habit, if you asked Vanessa.
Ryan and Ralph were in the middle of a conversation at the stable when Ryan stopped short and looked to his right. Ralph was a quick study, so he stopped mid-sentence and waited patiently until Ryan said, “Son of a bitch. What a woman! OK, get back, but watch yourself. Remember, you’re too valuable to risk. Marianne will be there in a minute or two, after she checks in with Security. Off with you, and good luck, Love.”
Ryan turned to Ralph and said, “Annie held on past the time that the soldiers appear. No telling what this might mean, yet. Keep alert. We just might hit pay dirt a day early.”
“Right, or something is going to hit the fan.”
“We frown on pessimism, Mr. Kithcart.”
“Does that mean you won’t duck when it hits?”
“No, I’ll hide behind you. You have Allen’s nag. She’s used to the route and is pretty stable. She bolted before because of Allen meeting Monkey, not because of the troops.”
“Swell. Shall we go? What’s the name of my horse, by the way?” Ryan told him. “You’ve got to be joking.”
Annie stood at ground zero. What had been regular, eroding waves trying to push her under, became a tsunami. With one last look at the sun, she dove inside and took cover, letting her mind take peace in the familiar blackness, submissive to the more powerful elements. In there, she considered what had happened, what was said and what she had accomplished. Vanessa had told her that re-unification was the key to her wholeness. From what she had heard of Monkey and Mad, she was very skeptical that she wanted to unite with them. “My goodness, one wore ‘me’ and we can play bridge.”
When Mad Annie was propelled to the surface by a force not of her understanding, she was disoriented, to say the least. The beast that drove her mind to emotional extremes was furious, but confused. What could have possibly held her back? This had never happened on an awakening. It was suffocating and frightening! She/they did a rapid search of her domain to see who might be responsible for the delay. The sun was much too high. Heads were going to roll, if any would show themselves. There was more activity about the farm than yesterday. All the ‘hired help’ were busier than ever getting the place ready for...“What in Sam Hill were they getting ready for?” Other than that, there was nothing amiss and that was all the more infuriating. There had been an obstruction almost too powerful to overcome and no donkey was visible on which to pin the tail. Monkey checked in her one ‘pocket’ and found the men. She checked her other ‘pocket’ and found the children.
Taking a few moments to calm down, Monkey reached in and sent the unconscious souls
on their military way without Mad Annie being aware of the process, as usual. Then, she lovingly sent her children off to play. Fifteen minutes later, she had her favorite and only visitor. “Good morning, Annie. How are you this fine day?”
She was still suspicious of anything that moved. “Right enough, I expect. You just getting here?”
“Why yes, Dearie, why, did something happen? Are you all right? Are the children...No, there they are, playing.”
“Nothing happened. Everything is just, just fine. I’ve got something to do. Visit the children, if you like. Come back, later.” Then she stormed into the house.
“Well, that was abrupt,” Vanessa thought. Annie didn’t seem confused now. She was secretive and bordering on rude. Monkey must be in charge. There was nothing more to be learned from an empty porch, so it was time to see to the children.
“What happened, Miss Vanessa? Mamma was late in getting us up. She’s never been late, until now. Did you do something?”
“No, Jason, I didn’t. Your mother did, the one you can’t see but is your real mother. She’s the one that loves you more than anything else. Now, I want the two of you to talk to me. Maybe what we say this morning is not going to be important, but it might be. I’m sorry if it causes you some discomfort.”
Rebecca spoke for both of them. “We know you are doing your best to help us, Miss Vanessa. What do you want to know?”
“Your mother, when her mind is not working right, sends you somewhere. Do you have any idea where?”
Jason replied, “No, ma'am. It’s all dark there.”
That’s interesting. For Jason to recall that it’s dark means he’s able to register seeing darkness. “Do you and your sister hear each other when you are in this place?”
“We can hear each other, yes, ma’am. We can’t see anything and hearing each other is different there. We can’t really talk like we’re doing with you right now, but we can sort of think to each other. It’s different, kind of like a dream.”
“Do you hear the soldiers?”
“No, ma’am. We tried a few times to call out to them, once we figured out that they didn’t want to hurt us. We were scared of them for a long time, too scared to want to talk to them. We’re still scared of that mean man you were talking about, the one that wants to hurt Mamma all the time.”
“Thank you, Rebecca. Now, both of you, think hard. Did either of you feel anything different this morning, other than coming out later than usual?”
Jason and Rebecca thought for a while. Jason scratched his chin, as he had seen his father do, so long ago. Rebecca held her chin up with her thumb and index finger, cupping that arm’s elbow in her opposite hand. Vanessa had seen that posture before with Annie. Rebecca had taken on some of the mannerisms of her mother. Shame neither parent was present to appreciate that wonderful little fact.
“VANESSA!”
She was startled to hear Annie calling her name. That wasn’t like her usual self, selves, whatever. This was getting even more complicated. Vanessa looked at Jason and Rebecca and both had worried looks on their faces. They had not heard that tone before either. It had an urgency to it, a brittleness.
Vanessa excused herself from the children and walked more calmly than she felt towards the Homestead porch. Annie stood there, looking west. The old habit of sharing gazes with the north had all but vanished. Monkey Annie’s confidence of the past had been injured over the past few days. So many things that hadn’t changed in so many ages were not to be trusted anymore. That had been a central part of the plan. Shaking the confidence of an opponent was a hallmark offensive goal in any conflict.
Here was the product of their handiwork. The proud but unbalanced woman before her had been indeed shaken. Rhythms in time were one of the most primal requirements on stability and sanity. Living things relied heavily on cycles. Daily cycles included the right amounts of sleep, food, hormone fluctuations, light exposure, activity and a thousand other variables. Monthly cycles, though most often thought of in the feminine realm, also applied to men. Annual cycles held seasons, migrations, celebrations, grieving and more. Such cycles were adhered to by mortals and even more so by entities for whom centuries of similarity imbued a greater reliance on sameness. For two hundred years, Mad Annie rose at dawn. That changed, though only by a small span of time. The duration of change was not as important as the fact that any change had occurred at all.
Vanessa was the only one Mad Annie could talk to. Monkey wasn’t as oriented to speech as she was to action and absorbing the satisfaction that action provided. Now, both daytime entity shards were unhappy, but Monkey was the most upset, by far.
“Yes, Annie?”
But how could she/they communicate that energy of upset to another for help and relief? Vanessa was the only one for whom either felt a trust and was the only game in town, as the men folk were like to say. But how could one articulate one’s upset when one didn’t know what was going on in the first place? Even to form a question that would answer her/their qualms would direct her/their steps into areas that neither wanted (one consciously, the other instinctively) to enter. It was so frustrating that both wanted to scream.
“Dearie, I don‘t feel very good.” Monkey sensed the outreach of her mad self and exerted her influence. “But don’t worry, I don’t need anyone’s help. It will pass.”
Vanessa blinked. What had just happened? First a call for help, then a denial of its need. “It has to be that the two daytime elements of Annie not working in harmony, at least for the moment.” Wasn’t that interesting? Not that she knew what use it could possibly be.
Ryan and Ralph met up with the soldiers. “You’re late, Major. I thought punctuality was a military tradition.” Ryan smiled and the smile was returned.
It was now Ralph’s turn to be mind-gassed, as kids say. Allen warned him this would happen. The mount with the silly name he was ‘saddled’ with seemed content to walk the path under a different rider and didn’t appear ‘spooked’ in the least. “Oh Lord, two puns in one sentence. I need serious therapy.”
“Ryan Fitzgalen, it would appear that you have broken the iron bond, or at least bent it a little. Well done, Sailor. Even the Navy has its uses, it would seem.”
“Yes, Sir, and so do you ground-pounders.”
The Major laughed loud and long at that, roaring out the phrase that struck him as so funny. The men heard and began to join his laughter. Even the ‘mad Private’ added his voice and humor. The feeling that it all brought was strengthening and encouraging. Fortunately, for them, Monkey missed sensing the change as she had her hands full at the moment.
Marianne arrived and took up her station post at the northwest fence corner. Security was told that this was as it should be and to ignore her. She was given a Security armband to keep chatty tourists off her back. Official chatters wore Guide armbands. It was frustrating for Marianne to think that forces were at work here over which she had no control, forces that she could not see, hear, or influence. All she could do was to minimize the number of restroom breaks and watch people. For all she knew, all hell was breaking out around her, or everything had been resolved, or it was all status quo.
“Marianne Cabrini was not meant to sit on her duff doing nothing, no sir!”
According to Vanessa, the two children would be there in their limited play space right in front of her. She was supposed to keep as close to Vanessa as possible, yet as inconspicuous as possible to Monkey/Mad Annie and the general public. She felt like a panic alarm switch, which she was, and that was important. But there had to be something more she could do. She looked at where Jason and Rebecca were supposed to be. Well, maybe she couldn’t see them, but they could see her. They could hear her, too, couldn’t they?
While Vanessa was up at the porch talking to Monkey/Mad Annie, the children stood together, wondering what was going to happen. The thought that tomorrow might mark t
heir liberation was almost too wonderful to be true. When you’ve been punished long enough, you come to believe that you deserve it, whether or not you ever did anything to be punished for. Both were aware of the woman standing near them, for Vanessa had told them about her being one of the team that was working to free them, the soldiers and, hopefully, Mamma.
It surprised them to hear that lady speaking, apparently to them, but obviously not seeing or hearing them in turn. It was more like a public address system, though the lady spoke softly.
“Jason and Rebecca. Jason and Rebecca. I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m going to try. I am a friend to Vanessa. She cares very deeply about you, we all do. We are all working hard to free you. I am sorry not to be able to speak with you the way I would like, but maybe someday we will be allowed to talk with each other. I’ve heard a lot about you two and know you are both very good and brave children. I’m asking you on behalf of all your friends on our team to trust Vanessa with all your hearts. We do. She hasn’t steered us wrong yet and she isn’t going to lead you astray now, either. I’m sorry if I’m interrupting a conversation between you and her, so I’ll be quiet now. Be strong, have faith and know that you are loved by all of us.”
“Jason, that woman talked to us. She’s so nice to do that. I wish we could speak with her, let her know we heard her.”
“We’ll tell Miss Vanessa. She’ll find a way. Just like she’ll find a way to help us out of here and get Mamma well again.”
“Annie, I know you have been very strong to keep the Homestead running without your slaves all this time. Your children are lucky to have a mother like you. That seemed to help calm her down some, which was good. It took valleys for the roller coaster pinnacles to have their maximum effect. The gates then opened and the general public streamed in. Tours were being organized.
“Saints, but there are a lot of folks here this morning. Don’t they have something else to do with their days?”
The Edwards Homestead Preservation Society, formed by the City Council fifty-eight years ago to keep this landmark from being developed, had employed Nicole Redman for the last four years. She had her first group of twenty in tow. Early risers were traditionally docile, attentive and walked at a reasonable pace.
“The Edwards Homestead Estate Foundation was founded in 1991 to restore and reopen to the public this interesting and historically important piece of both national and local heritage. Please step lively to keep up. We’re heading now to the main barn.” Marianne could hear Nicole’s clear voice, even from the open barn doors that had swallowed the tour group, whole. “The Edwards family raised horses as well as dairy cows on top of their agricultural enterprises. It was from this wide diversification that Col. Edwards was able to give his wife the financial security he felt she deserved. This barn was built by then Captain Edwards, and is maintained with the help of modern preservation methods. Here are the stalls for their draft horses and over here for their riding mounts. The cow barn is 500 yards south of here, which put them closer to the grazing pastures and further from the cash crops.” Marianne could hear more minutia regarding the nuts and bolts of running a slave labor camp. After an overheard session of questions and answers, “Now, if we can all take a stroll over to the Main House, there will be much more to see and talk about.”
Marianne watched the seamless precision with which people were assembled, assigned to a guide and sent off to one of five (she recalled) sequential sites for historical data dumps. The guides were a fair mix of men and women, some college students helping defray education costs with weekend work, some retired people supplementing their retirement income. The years of experience prompted ‘magnet groupings’. Families with young children were usually funneled to one of the older guides; grandparent types that younger kids just naturally gravitated towards. Older children, who were feeling the awakenings of interest in the opposite gender, prompted the assignment of that family to someone that the youth might describe as a ‘hotshot’ or ‘spotlight’. That usually kept their attention on the guide and their fingers off items that could be damaged from too much adolescent rambunctiousness. Nicole’s group exited the barn. Marianne had seen her before and even had taken the tour with her. She was a very knowledgeable young student, personable and cute as a button. That would explain the three young men, high school age from the look of it, on her heels like so many ducklings trying to out-smile and out-cool each other. Marianne noticed how well Nicole’s blue jeans fit. Yep, almost every detail of population control had been considered. Men were so easily led at this age, when their brains had migrated away from their heads and (she grinned) ‘gone south’.
Ryan and Ralph rode on. Pictures were being re-reviewed, and they were up to the ‘D’s’.
“DELANEY, PRIVATE DENNIS”
“DIXON, PRIVATE COLE”
It was a gorgeous day for a ride. Ralph continued his musings to include wonder at the circumstances surrounding his pleasant trot in the woods. “What could possibly go wrong on a day like this?” he thought. Then he thought about some of the things his new friends had told him. Ralph Kithcart was not superstitious, but that didn’t stop him from knocking on a passing tree.
“Vanessa, I’ve got a feeling in my bones that something evil stalks me. Things just don’t feel right.” With that, Mad/Monkey Annie turned her eyes to the west. Vanessa watched as her eyes seemed to go out of focus.
“(Uh-oh.) Annie, hold on for a moment!” The eyes refocused. “Now just hold on there and don’t jump the gun. Let’s look at what’s going on and see if you and I can work it out. Besides, there are so many things I would like to learn from you. Say, there’s one of your hired help telling these fine folks all about your wonderful home. Why don’t we listen in and you can tell me all of the things that young lady of yours doesn’t get right. Please?”
Well, a hostess does have her obligation to her guest, doesn’t she? Southern hospitality remained imprinted on all of Annie’s personalities, and was as natural as breathing.
“Why, of course, Dearie. I’m so pleased that you find my family home of such interest. You know, I’m becoming quite fond of you and hope you continue to pay social calls. I’m sorry I can’t return the favor. There are so many responsibilities I have here that it’s just impossible to get away.”
“(Whew.) I understand completely, Dearie.”