Choke - Chapter 87

   Everyone concerned with the morning visitor checked sunrise time and set an alarm for shortly before. Panic awoke to the soft beeping and rubbed more than shook Merry awake for it.

   "Mm…"

   "Hey. Instead of getting a bath, we do a quick clean up here. Okay?"

   Merry stretched and wiggled slowly and subsided into a gentle nod to okay the idea. Her half closed eyes studied him with interest as he opened up a small rectangular plastic pouch, and pulled several small off white cloths out that appeared moist. She recognized the baby wipes he took with them for their long two day hike. He preferred the variety with aloe and oils and scent. He went over all of her skin, body part by body part with a series of them, until he had given her a quick and functional full body bath. She giggled when he told her to turn over to get the rest of her, and again when he did it a second time.

   "You know, if I wasn't so tired? I'd enjoy this a little more."

   He shrugged and did the same to himself, and dressed. Merry rolled over and somewhat up and started pulling on the clothes he tossed at her side of the big mattress. They were within minutes slowly marching down to the main camp. The others that were in on this were arriving one after another as well. No one was there very long when a car came slowly down the trail. It parked and a guy in jeans and a T shirt with an open hooded sweatshirt got out and stretched and ambled over, a state police badge flapping silently out of his belt. He sat down in the empty folding chair in the loose oval of willing and waiting people, and looked around at his surroundings.

   "Nice spot, Mike. What ya got for me?"

   Mike emceed the delivery of what he considered the essential and complete dump of information, followed by letting him see the off the record fact finding video. Homicide started, stopped, and reset the video on different spots a number of times before he was done with his initial look. Then he went back and looked at the digital lab report Mike showed him. He finally sighed and rearranged his hair for a pause, the way a man might play with a pipe in his mouth while waiting and thinking before speaking.

   "I see you Jane Doe'd her in the hospital."

   Mike nodded.

   "Seemed like the thing to do. Before we lucked into the server videos being discovered? We weren't sure how we were going to play it. But… how we doing now, you think?"

   "Oh. We're going to have a little chat."

   He tapped the screen gently with his finger to make sure Mike knew he meant the girl and her friend, not any of them.

   "Merry, right?"

   Merry nodded.

   "How're you doing? You all right?"

   "Trying to take it in stride."

   He wrinkled his eyebrows up, at her deep voice. It clearly wasn't what he remembered her sounding like, when Mike had been like her shepherd getting what little statement they could out of her at the barracks interview after the bar fracas.

   "Sorry about your voice, ma'am."

   "Eh. I traded in my voice I was used to, for being able to keep sucking air in and outta my throat. Seemed like a fair trade at the time."

   "What is this, the third time now?"

   Mike and Merry both nodded.

   "Well. At least the first two were… this is just a kind of random thing, it looks like. If you know what I mean."

   Merry just curled her lip up and shrugged.

   "Panic? You're my little burglar, right?"

   "Guilty. How much trouble am I in?"

   "Ah. I do homicide. Plus? It's the weekend and all. If you really want arrested, you're gonna have to call robbery. I don't give a shit. Mike? I assume this video is trustworthy?"

   "That guy right there… is JG. That's my AV guy from DC. Those cameras are feeding their own private FBI server down in the basement at the Hoover building. The logs are read only. It's airtight. You have my word on it."

   "It's the night before the poisoning. And the damn Halloween costume? I mean, it's just fucking precious."

   "My house warrant?"

   "Oh. Hell yeah. Both of these darling creatures will have a house cleaning party scheduled for most likely today… couple hours from now, unless something gets in the way. Mike? Your notes you typed up here… you could of left me something to figure out, you're taking all the fun outta the game."

   "What are you thinking for charges…"

   "Oh. Where do I begin? Everyone in Pennsylvania gets disturbing the peace and disorderly conduct. This qualifies. I highly doubt anyone invited these two bitches over to the private property that time of night… that's simple trespass just from her face on the camera, right there. Add criminal trespass. We have a friend on our little night hike, that's conspiracy to commit. For both. Still got the two counts of attempted murder. Each, cause there's two victims. Then, just for style points? A woman's voice has been altered, and she had to have her throat cut to keep her alive. Scarred for life. I'm thinking grievous bodily harm, maybe even malicious wounding. Let's throw in two counts of reckless endangerment, again each, while we're there. I pop the cell phones, I got twenty bucks says they texted their little thumbs off about it, so… that's communications for purposes of commission of a felony. Did I miss anything? Maybe toss in aggravated assault just to round out her dance card. Anyone guilty of Agg assault, covered assault and simple assault to get there. How am I doing… the cocaine if it's still there? Icing on the cake. Possession, distribution. Scale and baggies, are now paraphernalia charges, each."

   Panic wanted to know where the two counts each were coming from. Homicide looked at him and smiled.

   "There were two victims."

   "One person was the target. Only one person got hurt."

   "She… they… didn't know that. No, you really should have been found in the morning, laying right next to her. Both of you dead as door-nails. Very few people I know, don't get any poison ivy, ever. Then, out of the few people that are immune to it? What are the odds that person knows what to do, has the balls to try it, like this. No… Merry? I'm ever in a shootout or a car wreck, I'd like to have you right next to me. You lead a charmed life. God appointed you your own personal guardian angel."

   Mike half palmed his face and smiled thin at the sly, mild reference only he would catch. Mike and this homicide investigator were the only two people here that had been in on the previous pow wow where it was discussed that it was a safe hunch that Panic had more to do with the shootout behind the bar than the evidence showed, even though it wasn't a crime to aid and abet self defense.

   "Nice. How you wanna play it?"

   "Hmm. Personally? I'd like to just go and get an arrest warrant for both of them, right off. Once I got my hands on them… the paper for the house warrants will both be in. We do that. Now, my thing lately has been to just plop both of them in the back seat of my fun vehicle, and let a digital recorder run, get em arguing and bitching about it, alone. Followed up, by a two girl sleepover, again wired for sound. Then? We sit down and have our first chat. One of many, I'm sure. I don't want either one, to know any of the goodies I got. By the time I got them softened up, and start slowly dropping hints what I got on 'em? Over a couple days of fun chit chat? I'll let each of them think that they're convincing me the other one did it, and they were just along for the ride, and will roll over. Which of course, I won't go for."

   "It sounds like you've done this before…"

   "Ah. Once or twice. Now, you want the good news or the bad news first."

   "What's the good news…"

   "A couple years here, a couple years there… it starts to really add up, for the one in the costume. The friend? Probably less but it still adds up."

   "What's the bad news?"

   "I'm up to my neck in activist democratic judges in this county. I can't lie to you, and I probably ain't telling you anything you don't already know. Women catch 1/3rd the number of years served compared to any man committing the same exact acts. Judges are under constant gentle pressure to let sentences run concurrent. Throw in good behavior and participating in the prison church choir… she'll probably end up back on the street quicker than you'd think. I hate to say it, but, without a death? It's hard to keep anyone behind bars past 10 years. And? That's a man. A woman? Lucky to keep her in, say three to five. You can thank overcrowding and prison reformers for that nonsense. I don't know where they find the fucking morons that hug and kiss the dangerous felons and chuck them out the side door on parole? They ain't on my Christmas card list."

   "Wow. Don't sugarcoat it so much, and just give it to me straight. I'm a big boy, I can take it."

   "I see your costume girl, is single, no kids. That's slightly good news. But… the one with the husband and kids? Ouch. Lower sentences, earlier releases. Little kids and spouses crying their little eyes out at the parole hearings? Works wonders on the dip-shits they put in charge of letting these criminals out of their cages."

   "I know there's things you have no control over."

   "We all know. The DA, the prosecution. Controls what crimes are going to trial. The jury? Decides guilt or innocence. But the judge… he decides what the sentence is. Off the record? That… is where I would try to gently tug on the strings. Judges have strings, and they feel the tug."

   "Hmm. What kinds of strings?"

   "Well. Let me tell you a story, that has nothing to do with our situation, okay?"

   "Of course."

   "This, is a tale of two court cases. Case A. Drug addict scumbag, commits numerous burglaries to buy and use drugs. Finally, gets surprised by a homeowner. In a panic, whacked on drugs, out of his mind? Ends up killing the homeowner. That's case A. Case B? Productive, law abiding member of society. Nice man, nice job, nice family. His little girl? Gets her eye taken out by a stray cat, and loses an eye for life. That man, goes on a killing spree. He kills stray cats. Some do-good in town, catches him on video shooting a couple stray cats, and turns him in. That's case B. Let's follow both cases, and see what happens."

   "Case A. Boo hoo. I had a bad childhood, I have a bad life. I admit I'm a drug addict, and a thief. I didn't mean to kill the homeowner, I'm sorry. The drugs made me do it. I'm so sorry. This guy pleads guilty, to the lesser charge offered. He's eligible for parole after as little as seven years. If he can convince the parole board, that he found Jesus and he's sorry… there's the door."

   "It happens."

   "Case B. He's only killing stray cats. His lawyer argues that the animal control is gassing stray cats anyways. He's protecting the children by doing what he's doing, however misguided his actions may be. He admits and pleads guilty. But, at the sentence hearing? There's a mob outside the courthouse, all through the trial, and all through the sentencing hearing. Animal activists. Demanding justice for animals. The TV and the newspapers? Are putting out stories about how wonderful these people are, standing up for the poor defenseless animals."

   "No…"

   "Oh, yes. Judge? Under mob pressure? Hands down the maximum sentence. Sentences? Not to be served concurrent, but one after the other. For cruelty to animals. Makes a nice little speech about how he's sorry he can't impose this penalty for all the other animals he murdered, that he wasn't caught for, but admits to killing. He? Isn't eligible for parole, until he serves the maximum sentence possible. Lawyer appeals the maximum and non concurrent sentences, given obvious mitigating circumstances. The mob appears outside the appellate court, and gets their usual feel good TV and newspaper coverage. Animal lovers unite, animal lovers demand justice… the appellate court upholds this decision. It was kinda Pennsylvania's test case for getting tough on animal cruelty."

   "So you're telling me…"

   "Judges are under constant pressure. There are strings attached to the judge's hands, you just don't see the strings. You already know that an angry mob outside the courthouse, getting TV and newspaper coverage? Tugs the strings. There are other strings, too."

   "Off the record…"

   "Off the record, you have to find and follow those strings, to see where they lead. One set of strings? Leads to publicity. Another set of strings? Leads to the people that do budgets for prisons. Yet another set of strings? Leads to the voting booths. You see, judges have to get elected. They have to run campaigns. Right before a re election coming up? They just love to show how tough on crime they are, and they love to also show how wonderful and understanding they are. Judges like certain things to happen, when the TV cameras are on them, being interviewed for their election."

   "Hmm. What sort of things do they like, at this most crucial time in their career?"

   "Glad you asked. Why, they just love, big and important figures to come into town… and put their arm around them, shake their hand, and tell everyone, what a great job the big people think the little judge is doing. Then say cheese."

   "Hmm. What kind of people…"

   "Oh… an assistant director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation? Would do very, very nicely. In fact, one could theoretically influence which judge, out of several, was picked to hear the case. Because those people, crave attention and pats on the head from big important people. I mean, theoretically… one could practically pick just the right judge out of the judge pool… and that judge could, again theoretically, be promised publicity and praise at… if fortune favored them, naturally… just the right time and place when all the flashbulbs were going off, and the cameras were rolling."

   "Interesting. Go on…"

   "There's hanging judges. There's bleeding heart judges. Each of them play to one side or the other. Each kind? Attacks the other for their weak point, and emphasizes their own strong point. I'm tough on crime… my opponent over there? Soft on criminals. Now… about a year before election time? Bleeding heart judges love to have a case where they showed they're tough on criminals. And hanging judges? Just love to have a case where they showed how understanding they can be. So… there's soft, invisible strings in play."

   Mike nodded…

   "A bleeding heart judge? Might love to hand out a surprisingly tough sentence, if just the right victim were harmed. At just the right time, say… right before an upcoming election. The defense? Will be shopping around, to try to get out of a hanging judge's courtroom, and into a bleeding heart courtroom. A very smart cookie? Would get them assigned to a hanging court, then, give them enough rope to hang themselves… give them a free pass into a bleeding heart court. The defense? Would jump at the chance, and…"

   "Think they were jumping out of the frying pan… and land right into the heart of the fire."

   "Yes. And, another little bit of trivia? If you were so inclined to hear it…"

   "I would be."

   "Thought so. The District Attorney election… is at the same time as the judges get elected. They? Need and love the same things as the judges. Arm around the shoulder, shaking hands with an important person, on camera."

   "Quite an interesting minefield to navigate."

   "Oh, it's a fun game to play. And? Let's not forget the mob. The right mob outside the courthouse? Can be your best friend, or your worst enemy."

   "Advice?"

   "A poor, defenseless waitress. Abused by the big, bad, dirty cops. Down in the big city. The kind of strong, independent, single woman that survives an assassination attempt by the dirty cops. Twice. Why… a few pone calls? Could probably get women's rights groups marching around the courthouse night and day, screaming their heads off, they demand justice for this poor woman."

   "Timing is hard to control."

   "Not as hard, as you might guess. What's your time frame, for the dirty dozen shit in DC?"

   "There's a rush on that one. Everyone wants to see heads on sticks, for the dirty cops."

   "Exactly. Let me guess. You plan on parading your witness around for free publicity. Try the case in the papers as best you can."

   "Hey. It happens. The press gotta get little snacks, before the main feast."

   "I know. Then, when it's all over, and the dirty dozen is tossed into their cages… suddenly, the same women's rights groups, find out their poster girl, was a victim of an attempted poisoning? There's your angry mob. The little courthouse, up here in the county in the sticks? Won't be able to handle it."

   "Timing is critical."

   "Well. Remember our earlier talk. Criminals, love to get continuances. Particularly when they're heading into a hanging courtroom. The defense? If the DA didn't object, of course… would gladly eat a string of continuances. To be better prepared."

   "Oh. I see where you're going now. Everyone wants to move fast on the dirty dozen, down in DC. Then… I flip the switch. Let the defense jump into a bleeding heart courtroom. The continuances run out, like magic."

   "Out of the frying pan? Into the fire."

   "Ooh. And, how in the hell did you get so good at playing this game?"

   "I have a cousin. Big city lawyer. Plays politics. That's why I know how this all works. A couple drinks at every holiday dinner? He brags and shows off how important he is to all his friends and family. How… influential he truly is."

   "You've been screwed in this game before."

   "Screwed? I wish. I've been prison raped in this game. Several times, before I figured out how the game's played. My cousin loved reading me the rules, out of the unofficial rule-book. Made him feel… all important and shit."

   Mike smiled and shook his head.

   "Any more tips?"

   "Just one. Arrests are good. Trials are great. Just that teensy problem of bail."

   "Ouch."

   "Everyone's favorite wannabes are going to be running around free. For an extended period of time, on bail. That's… not something you like, I'm guessing."

   "I'd say they don't have the balls, but… given where we are right now? I'll keep my mouth shut."

   "Yeah. I have a suggestion there."

   "I'm all ears."

   "Do you remember, when the governor of my wonderful state, was being a pain in our ass, calling everyone but Santa Claus, trying to get your witness SWATted? To keep things neat and quiet?"

   "I do."

   "Right. He's an idiot, so, make him into a useful idiot."

   Mike raised his eyebrows.

   "Get him some calls, chewing his ass out, demanding for him to do something."

   "A call such as…"

   "Goddamn it! The most important witness in the country, in a giant national trial coming up… isn't safe in your state! Little girls are trying to poison her! Now, they're going to get out on bail, and kill my witness! Goddamn it, do something, would you? I thought you were the governor! Or did the people in Pennsylvania elect a useless moron! If anything happens to my witness, I'm going on national TV and telling everyone how incompetent you and your state are!"

   "What will he do, you figure."

   He laughed.

   "What he did to us. Make calls. Act important. Try to throw his weight around. He'll ask for high bail. He'll demand it. He'll try to threaten everyone to get what he wants."

   "I can't get that. But, my assistant director is naturally great buddies with the director. The director? Is buddies with my governor down there. Now… if one governor calls the other governor screaming for help…"

   "And there we go. A nice, high bail. Refusing ten percent, demanding straight cash. You can't refuse bail, but, just shove it up out of reach for two short little bitches to reach it."

   "I like it. What's your schedule like."

   "I already emailed my judge for the weekend. Let's get breakfast. By the time we're done? The chief here will probably have a fax waiting on him. Two arrest warrants. Because I have a lab report on the poison used, from such an esteemed and high a source as an FBI crime lab already waiting? House warrants will be arriving, oh… right after lunch? So… what's your schedule like today…"

   Mike smiled.

   "I see a lovely breakfast, and a lovely lunch in your future."

   "Great. I was thinking, we could leave the two girls locked up in a cruiser, wired for sound, while we eat lunch. Might prove interesting to hear what they have to say to each other. I can hold them for 72 hours, for questioning. Which I will. Then, I have to charge them or release them. Since I already know what my team will be looking for… and that they'll find it all… at the end of the 72 hours, during which the girls learn nothing out of my lips… I'll charge them, and lock 'em up. The arraignment? Done deal, in custody. I'll stall bail as long as I can, and you'll have time to work your magic on those phone calls."

   "Well? We're all up anyways. Might as well go have breakfast."

   They started getting up, and making ready to go have breakfast, when Mike stopped and addressed Merry.

   "Everyone except you, Merry."

   Panic tossed her his own car keys, and she caught them.

   "Honey? We'll call you, as soon as the bitches are in cuffs."

   "Hmm. Then, I'm done being grounded? I'm sick of not being allowed to go into town. It's like being on house arrest…"

   Panic looked at Mike, and he nodded.

   "Honey? You've been a really good girl, on house arrest. I think, you deserve a treat. Say… hair, nails… and Bobbi with an I can pound your ass hard in the back room for an hour or two, while we listen to you moan with pleasure?"

   "All right. You boys have fun."

   Panic had to explain the joke to the Homicide detective on the drive to the diner. Once there, they picked a booth in the back. Panic called the chief, who was predictable and already at the donut shop. It wasn't too long before the chief showed up at the diner, waved, and found his way back to their booth away from most of the patrons. Panic introduced the chief to everyone, and particularly Matt the lab god. The chief already knew Mike and both IA guys from the bar scene.

   Mike smiled.

   "You got room for breakfast, Chief?"

   "Oh. I already had coffee and two donuts. I could squeeze in a breakfast, if I tried."

   "Breakfast is on me. Your money's no good here."

   "Hmm. Please tell me, this is a social call. There's not a pile of dead cops somewhere."

   "No, chief."

   "No, there's no pile of bodies, or… no, it's not a social call."

   "No bodies. Not strictly a social call. Working weekend for us."

   "Well. Don't keep me in suspense. Let me guess, you boys all got together and planned my day for me, did you? How thoughtful of you."

   Mike produced two pictures for the chief to look at, on his tablet. Drivers license photos, of two young women.

   "What can you tell me about these two?"

   "This one's at the donut shop. That one? Serves drinks out at the biker bar on the edge of town. Almost afraid to ask, what they got themselves into this time."

   "You know 'em?"

   "Yeah. They grew up… small towns around this area."

   "What were they like?"

   "Some kids? All right. Some kids… pain in the ass. These two were both pains in the asses."

   "What are they like as adults?"

   "Pains in the asses. This one? Married to a mechanic. Husband, two kids. This one? Rents a little house, lives alone. Both run around town. Never met a married man, or a man who already has a girlfriend, they didn't wanna fuck. Most of my calls in a tiny town like this? Ask Panic here… boys drinking and fighting over who's fucking the girls."

   "These two… friends? Close?"

   "Kinda. They're related. Second cousins or some shit like that. Both came from broken homes. Raised by small town barflies. They were pains in the asses as teenagers. Problems at school, problems with the other girls. Went through a phase as teenagers."

   "What kinda phase?"

   "Always drinking. Acting up. They did the thing where teenagers think they're into witchcraft or whatever bullshit phase some kids go through."

   "What was their MO as teens?"

   "Frick and Frack, basically. Both had the same drunken home life. This one, the leader. This one, the one from the donut shop? The follower. This one finds trouble, and this one would get into it with her. Until the leader, went away to juvie hall, for a year. See, she was tossed around the family, until she landed with an uncle. Another drunk in the family. Bad diabetic, sure it had nothing to do with being an alcoholic. He finally croaked on his diabetes, and she went wild. Got both of 'em into trouble constantly."

   "What were they good for?"

   "Oh, normal kid shit. Small theft. Joyride the cars. Fights with the girls, over who fucked the boyfriend. Underage drinking and smoking pot. Property damage. Like I said, pains in the asses. This one, juvie hall settled her down a little. No more stealing and stealing cars. Toned her act down to drinking and whoring around, like a good little small town girl."

   "Hmm. Anyone ever look into if she might have killed her uncle with the bad diabetes?"

   "Interesting question to ask. I suppose it would have been easy. Bad diabetic, bad enough he's on disability for it. All that insulin around. I mean, anything's possible. Now, I just know I ain't gonna like where all this is going, am I? What did they do… had to be something good. For me to get a free breakfast. I'm sure of it."

   "Attempted murder."

   "Christ almighty. Who what where when why… if we're planning my day and all, over breakfast, that is."

   "Who. They tried to kill, my witness."

   "Merry? From behind the bar?"

   "Yes, that's the who… the what, is attempted murder. Where? Sneaking poison out to the range late at night. When? Not long ago. Now, the why… take your pick."

   The chief was quiet, taking it all in.

   "Panic… we were actually talking about you two. Haven't seen you two in for coffee and donuts like you do a couple times a week. I was actually thinking about coming out to see you and George."

   "Merry was in the hospital, then she was recovering. From being poisoned. We were kinda planning on keeping her out of sight, to see if anyone asked about her. Generate a suspect that way. Then? The case broke."

   "Shit. What do you guys need from me and my boys?"

   "Nothing special. When we're done with breakfast, coffee, and some chit chat… you're going to get to your station, and a little bird told me you're going to have two warrants waiting in your fax machine."

   "Okay. You want my boys to pick 'em up?"

   "It's your town. Sure. Thought you could stash them right into the back of my cruiser. I'll take them off your hands. Homicide wants to have a nice, long talk with both of them."

   "I see."

   The conversation could now drift to more pleasant talk. They ordered breakfast, which eventually arrived. Halfway through eating, Homicide's phone buzzed and he looked at it.

   "Fax machine, chief."

   "All right. You waiting for anything special?"

   "No. I just need warm bodies."

   "I got my night guy coming off, and my day guy coming on. Right at the donut shop, where the one's at. It's convenient."

   "Sounds good…"

   "Give me a minute…"

   The Chief used his phone.

   "Yeah. I'm at the diner. Listen. Here's what I want you to do. Quietly. Tell the night guy to stay. You? Go to the station. Pick up two faxes. Then… go back to the diner. I want you and him, to quietly grab the girl working the counter."

   "Yes. I mean grab her physically. One on each arm. Pat her down for weapons, and put her in the back seat. Make sure you grab her purse and her cell phone. Put them in the front seat, with you two."

   "No. Just bring her to the diner. That's where I'm at. Call me when you get here, and wait in the parking lot. We'll be out."

   "Huh? No. Don't say a word to her. Just plop her in the back of the car, and bring her here. Then call me."

   After twenty minutes of coffee and polite bullshit, the Chief's phone went off.

   "I'm coming out."

   He hung up, and pointed at the homicide investigator.

   "You want her in the back of your car?"

   "I do."

   They went out and came back in a short time later. The two cops came in with them, and sat down. The Chief explained what he wanted.

   "All right. Half the way there. I'm sure you two already know where the other one is. At her little house, out that dirt road. She's gonna be getting up and getting to the bar soon. I want one car, at the pull off. The other? At the end, where the dirt meets the gravel. She can't turn around without a 4 wheel drive. You have the car trapped. It's safe. It's easy. Same thing with her. Bring her here, and call me. I'll come out."

   The two left to go and grab the other one. Panic wondered about leaving the one out there.

   "Aren't you worried, she's out in the car alone?"

   "Nope. That's reinforced glass and edging. Back seat's a cage, and state police got so tired of putting glass back in from drunks and perps kicking it out? Some of us have the reinforced ones."

   "What if she has to take a piss?"

   He smiled.

   "That's what I'm counting on. It'll make her all the more irritable. When we toss her little friend in with her, and leave them alone? They'll argue, and fight, and yell at each other. Then? They get tired of trying to fight with their hands cuffed behind their back, and they'll start working up some kind of half ass strategy to use. Which, I'll have recorded. If one or the other actually pisses their pants? It just makes them more irritable, and it works better. It's a cage back seat, won't hurt a thing."

   "What do we do?"

   "Nothing. We sit here. We eat, drink, and have fun. We let them, do some work for us."

   Speedy laughed.

   "You like it?"

   "I do. I never wired a car before, I usually get the same thing out of throwing them in the holding cell together, and get a conversation there."

   "Oh yeah. I do that, too. Some career criminals know about the holding cells trick. The car? I doubt those two geniuses will think of that one. They'll be concentrating on arguing and fighting, then talking strategy."

   "It's admissible?"

   "Oh yeah. The holding cells always were admissible, weren't they? This is no different. I get lucky all the time, tossing two buddies in and leaving them alone for a spell. Less work I gotta do."

   They waited and eventually, the Chief's phone beeped again. The same routine went on, and the two cops followed them in, and asked what they were supposed to do. The Chief was his usual self, after they went out and transferred the second one to the homicide cruiser to talk with her friend.

   "Fuck it. Let everyone have fun running stop signs for a while. Sit down. Order something. You find anything on the barmaid?"

   "Looks like cocaine. It's in his glove-box now."

   "Then the work's done. Sit, sit…"

   "Can I call Merry to come and meet us now?"

   Mike rubbed his chin.

   "Sure. Chief?"

   "Yeah. I don't care. I have breakfast with Panic and her all the time. Me and Merry? We have something in common. We share a similar view on… relationships."

   "Well, that's good. I was just wondering if you could tell Merry to park where the girls don't see her, tell her to come in the back door, if you think the employees wouldn't mind? I figured if the Chief asked…"

   "Oh, sure…"

   The Chief went and spoke to an employee in the back, and returned directly after.

   "Done deal. Call her up…"

   Merry's face was a cross between idle distraction and mild disgust, when she finally walked out of the back, coming from the kitchen. Every once in a while, one of the Chief's two he had sent to pick them up, would go take a peek out the front window carefully, and come back. They would give a report of what was going on each time.

   "Looks like they're head butting each other…"

   "Must be on their backs, all I see is feet kicking at each other."

   "Looks like they're kissing, but… I figure they're pushing on each other."

   "Oh, hey. They finally decided to try kicking the windows."

   Homicide chuckled, when everyone looked to him.

   "Ah. A big guy with work boots? Maybe. Those little things, with those soft little shoes on… no. I don't like to be mean, but I've seen first graders that were taller and weighed more."

   Merry asked if she could see them.

   Mike took this one…

   "Peeking out the window? To make sure the little kids we left in the car are fine, like we're doing? Yeah. Can you go out there and have some fun with em? No. Remember, you're supposed to be a vegetable in the hospital. Or even dead. The homicide people are going to use that, Merry. You can't take the tools out of his tool bag."

   Merry went and just peeked and came back.

   "Looks like they're talking."

   Homicide was all smiles, and held his palms up for approval.

   "Eh? Eh… what did I tell you. Now? We just sit here until it looks like they're done talking."

   Merry started out quiet and reserved, and slowly returned to about half of what Panic thought of as normal, over the next hour and a half to two hours. She finally started to crack the occasional smile, and went to the bathroom and returned. When she did, she replaced her chair closer to Panic, and leaned her head on his shoulder briefly.

   After both had been picked up, another part of waiting was to arrange a flatbed to come and take both cars away to an impound lot. Where they could be gone over later with a fine tooth comb, at homicide's leisure.

   "Well? As fun as this has been, I can't leave them in there forever. Hey Mike, you ever run that gun?"

   "No. I didn't."

   "Why not?"

   "Well. For one, I don't know about it yet. For another? If I run it, it leaves a log entry. Now… if anyone were to notice that there's a query for a gun, before I see the gun to know it exists…"

   "Gotcha. Well… you remember Homicide's pet schnauzer?"

   "The skinny girl. Worked the bar scene. Brassy, right?"

   "Yeah. Brassy and company are gonna work the house in the woods. I'll concentrate on that one first, for obvious reasons. The other one? Lives with a husband and two kids, I don't expect much. Anyways. If it comes back stolen, that's another charge."

   "If, or when… you and your team locate the dried poison? I have an FBI lab guy waiting on it. He's sitting right next to you. You won't have to wait in line, either. Matt, you got a card?"

   Matt did and handed one over. Homicide approved of the red carpet treatment.

   "Nice."

   Panic walked Merry through the kitchen and out the back, and they got to the car.

   "Well? You're off of house arrest. Anything you want to do first?"

   "We just ate. For almost two hours. Kinda ruined that. I might have enjoyed going out to get a bite to eat."

   Merry smiled, and looked a lot more like her old self.

   "I'm a girl, silly. Don't you think I wanna go shopping?"

   "You wanna take a trip to the mall?"

   She had been going to toss him the keys, and instead she jingled them and kept them, and walked over to the driver's side. Panic went around to the passenger side and they both got in with Merry behind the wheel.

   "You'll see…"

   Merry drove them to the grocery store they used. She bought a couple big bags of tater tots. Skykid could always use another bag of potatoes cooking for everyone, and she would make french fries out of them first.

   "What else do you want?"

   She made him pick, so he got a box of breaded cod for whale tail fish sandwiches. Merry bought several pounds of high fat ground meat and the other things for meatballs. Several bags of hoagie buns they had been using all along rounded things out. When she went to grab pasta for spaghetti, Panic had her get fettuccine instead of the more regular spaghetti noodles.

   When she grabbed some linguine pasta noodles, Panic asked her what she was doing. She stuck her tongue out at him, like a little girl. That made him feel good, that was the old Merry back again. She called Skykid, and reminded him he had promised she could "handle" making linguine and clam sauce.

   "He swears I just boil noodles and add a can of this stuff… we still have real butter and olive oil, right?"

   Panic nodded.

   "What's all this? I thought you were getting tater tots. You plan on cooking all week for me in the cabin? House arrest kinda ruined you."

   "Shut up. I'm trying to think. What else I can buy that I can't screw up. Because you're going to eat one thing, the same thing, for three days and I'm gonna want something else."

   "Fruit salad? If I want fruit, I just buy it and eat it, but… anyone can just cut fruit up in a bowl."

   Merry texted Skykid, and he hit her back. She got orange juice and ginger ale with the fruit. She sheepishly admitted Sky claimed that made for a quick and dirty fruit salad dressing.

   "What? You don't wanna make a whole turkey?"

   Merry screwed her face up and shook her head.

   "I'm not my grandma."

   "Want me to tell you a secret?"

   "Sure."

   "You know the turkeys that come in a bag? The kind the whole bag goes in the oven?"

   Merry nodded.

   "Right. The kind with the cook in the bag… we get the one that has that pop out thing. When the doohickey pops out? Birds done. You just need to set the temperature, and when the time starts getting close, you check it."

   "That's fucking it…?"

   "Yeah. Now, you do it in a roasting pan? You gotta worry about the bed of vegetables. Seasoning the bird, seasoning the vegetables. The cooking time and temperature has to match the vegetables and the bird. You have to baste it every so often, keep it moist. The side dishes are what takes all the time and expertise to make from scratch. You get the roast in a bag style? You just chuck it in the oven, set the temperature… and remember to check for when the thingy pops out. Perfect turkey every time."

   "What about side dishes?"

   "You already got potatoes. We buy carrots? Done. We'll boil it in a pot on the side. We already got a lot of rice."

   "How many jars of gravy do I need?"

   "Just get a bunch of turkey gravy packets. We'll cheat. Gravy on the turkey. Gravy on the vegetables. Gravy on the rice. Just promise me, you won't forget the most important thing, cooking all this for the next week or two."

   "What?"

   "I want my leg show. While you're cooking. Okay?"

   Merry smiled and nodded.

   "Kinda my plan all along anyways. Shit…"

   "What?"

   "Cans of mushrooms. Sky wants some… he said they go good in some of this stuff."

   "Get a couple cloves of fresh garlic. It goes in stuff too. You like garlic?"

   They checked out, and loaded the bags in the trunk for the short ride back. Merry looked over and smiled at him.

   "What?"

   "Nothing. Just… thinking how… normal this all is."

   "Nothing is normal."

   She jerked her head to the back of the car to indicate.

   "It is for now. We live somewhere. We're out to buy food at the supermarket. I'm going to cook it for you. We'll eat it together. The cat? Bitty Kitty's going to go nuts. For the next week or two? It'll be a fairly normal… home life."

   "You sure that's what you want?"

   She nodded.

   "I know it won't last but only so long. Before… your case goes off. My trials. Everything. But… when that's over? The next week or two… that's what it'll be like, right?"

   "Yeah. I guess so."

   Merry paused, then added as they bounced slowly down the main trail to the pull off that led to their cabin.

   "Just promise to take me walking or hiking or something. I'm afraid I'll get fat. I never bought a trunk full of groceries like that. I feel like my grandma going food shopping. I like it, I just don't wanna look like grandma looked. Okay?"

   "It's fine. I promise. Besides… it would ruin my leg show. I can't have that."

   "Good. We have to go back in a couple days. To the store."

   "Why?"

   "I ordered smelt while I was back there. And… I forgot yogurt, and cottage cheese…"

   "Relax. Right now? Just… relax."

   "Why?"

   "We're not stressing about food trips to the store. I'm sure there's shit I'll remember I should have got, when I get back to the cabin, and start to do something else."

   "It doesn't bug you?"

   "No. If it's that fucking important? Make a list. Do you wanna go back now and get it? Fine, we go back. I refuse to get all excited about this…"

   "Why do you have that serious look on your face…"

   "Because I like eating, and I want it to be fun. I refuse to make it into some kind of… I don't know what…"

   "Hmm. You… have this serious look on your face. But, you don't know what you don't want it to turn into?"

   Panic chuckled nervously.

   "What?"

   Panic gave a weak, though genuine in appearance… smile.

   "I'm about to say I don't wanna talk about it. Which is gonna trigger science girl, to say that definitely means we should talk about it… isn't it?"

   Merry smiled back.

   "Oh, no. Psychology and interpersonal male female relationships? Are predicated on reading minds and the other person just automatically and intuitively knowing your every thought beforehand. Why would I wanna talk about it?"

   "Smart ass."

   Merry twisted her index fingers into her smiling dimples for comic effect…

   "You're not my mother."

   "Hmm. I'm younger than you… I'm pretty sure it's impossible that I'm your mother… so…"

   "Did you ever notice, I like eating? I want eating to be… fun. Even if all I do is shovel the same thing into my face for three days, till it's gone? I guess boring is okay, but, I don't want it to be stressful dealing with it."

   "What's this got to do with your mother? Jesus, listen to me… my fellow psych students at college? Would think that was a really funny psychology joke…"

   "I'm no expert, but… my dad always seemed… normal to me. My mom? Eh… love her dearly, god rest her immortal soul, but… my mom drove me nuts…"

   "About trips to the food store?"

   "About everything concerning food. Do I have to make a list?"

   Merry put her fingers on her temples and wiggled her head back and forth, a mysterious look on her face…

   "No… it's coming to me…"

   "My mom, she… kinda drove me nuts."

   "Hmm. I'm gonna need a teensy bit more… insight…"

   "Okay. My mom decided what foods we were going to eat. Which day. The main dish, the side dishes, dessert. Everything."

   "Okay. You said your mom stayed at home and cooked when you were young. Wouldn't that be normal?"

   "Oh no. It all just seemed normal. So to the outsider looking in? Everything was normal. Inside? Insanity."

   "I can see I have to do this another way… hold on a second…"

   Merry came back, smiling mischievously. She had gotten a little box out of "her box" that had a pair of the handcuffs in them she picked up at the "novelty store" at the mall where she bought her "back-rub" lotion and inexpensive sexy clothing items. In her other hand? She twirled a pair of her used panties.

   "Talk. Keep talking. You will somewhat enjoy the manner in which I make you talk? But I will emphasize the somewhat part… or… you can do this the easy way…"

   "She decided what I ate. Then? How much I ate. If I wanted more? Maybe I was allowed to have more, maybe I wasn't. If I wasn't really hungry? Maybe I had to eat seconds. Then? You have to eat, and I mean to the fucking second… at the exact, planned time. You have to wake up at the exact right time. You can't get up early. You can't sleep in. You get yelled at, for not taking a shit in the morning, at the right time."

   "We were talking about food…"

   "Bathroom going? Food coming out! You have to shit, at the exact right time, every morning! You have to eat, whatever someone else says you have to eat. If you like your breakfast cereal? Oh… you have to change it, you can't eat the same thing. If you want something else? Oh, we have to get this, it's the right thing."

   "Really?"

   Merry looked down at the little joke threats in her hands, the handcuff box and her panties. She ditched them immediately and regretted the joke she made.

   "Yeah. It doesn't stop there. Then, my mom has to sit and make a list what we have to get at the store. Then? We have to go to the store. It takes forever. She has to have an inch thick stack of fucking coupons, and go over every coupon with the register lady. Go through the coupons while she's shopping. Sending me and my dad to each get this and that, then yelling we got the wrong thing, or, the wrong size, or the wrong flavor."

   "Hmm."

   "I'm irritated. My dad seems irritated, but, he can put up with anything. The people around us? They're looking at us. Because my mom's carrying on the whole time. Then? I get yelled at because the people are looking at us. It's my fault, I brought back the wrong thing or the wrong size or the wrong flavor."

   "Go on…"

   "So. I'm irritated. The people in the store? Look irritated. The people behind us in line? Definitely irritated, when the coupons start. Then the drive home? Whatever she forgot to get, that was my fault. She was too busy yelling at me, I got her sidetracked."

   "So, the trip to the store was stressful."

   "Did I make it sound fun? Then you get home. You can't just put things away. You have to take everything out. Put the new ones in the back, carefully move the others up front. This goes there, that goes there. You get yelled at more. Then? It's meal time. Has to start at the right time, end at the right time. You have to eat certain things. You're either not allowed to have more? Or, you're not allowed to not have seconds. Then? You gotta have the god damn family conversation."

   "Talking about the day over dinner seems normal to me…"

   "See? It should be, but… it's not! Always ends in some kind of argument. Always. Then? There's yelling and confusion at the table. Until my dad had enough, and he raised his voice. Then? My mom goes… don't you raise your voice to me! If I talk? I get yelled at. If I don't talk? I get yelled at for not wanting to talk."

   "Is that all?"

   "Fuck no. One time? We're not allowed to have salt. Because some asshole on some talk show, was saying salt's bad for you. Another time? No fat. Milk's bad for you. Eggs are bad for you. Bacon's bad for you. Red meat is bad for you. One time? My absolute favorite cereal? I busted my mom lying to me, that they don't ever have it. Found out later, it had these little red cereal pieces in it, and… some asshole was whining on some talk show how the red dye was bad for you… cereal suddenly turned into all fiber and bran and granola for a year. It made me shit like a goose."

   "Do I do all this?"

   Panic gave a big, dramatic sigh, and sat then sat in the desk chair. He looked defeated.

   "No. But…"

   "But what?"

   "You were starting to worry because you missed something. I don't wanna start down that road."

   "Okay. Now I see where you're coming from…"

   "So. I had an ex. You know that…"

   "Well, everyone has a ex, by our age, honey… of course you had an ex."

   "Well? My mom was short. She was tall. My mom was wide. She wasn't, at least not when I met her. My mom was loud. She? Was quiet. My mom? Only went to high school. My ex? Had a list of degrees…"

   "Oh. You picked her, because you didn't want someone like your mom, driving you nuts."

   "Yeah, you'd think."

   "Go on…"

   "Well? It's like she slowly studied everything I ever complained about my mom? And slowly started doing all of it. One by one."

   "Honey? I promise, I won't do that."

   Panic looked up, and laughed.

   "That's what she said… same exact words. Same immaculate promise."

   "So, can I sum this up, to make sure I got it all right?"

   "Yeah…"

   "Your mom drove you nuts, with everything possible about eating. You picked your ex, to be the complete opposite of your mom. Then? Despite all promises… she slowly turned into your mom."

   "Did I ever tell you about the padlocks on the cupboards? On the refrigerator?"

   "No…"

   "When I came home and went to college? This all starts again. I started sneaking something out of the cupboard. Because I was up half the night working and studying. I couldn't be home at the exact right time to eat. My mom started winding… little chains around the cupboards. I started buying something to eat downstairs? I hid the empty food cans in the bottom of the garbage. So she wouldn't see them. I already knew from growing up, my mom would look in the garbage cans to check on them."

   "Now… that's insane."

   "Locking the cupboards and the fridge up with padlocks? Or… I was hiding the empty cans I bought myself in the bottom of the garbage."

   "All of it."

   "It gets worse. She found the empty cans underneath all the garbage. That means… she was actually emptying the garbage bag, into another garbage bag, one item at a time, like Speedy going through a perp's garbage."

   "Well. How did you respond?"

   "I locked canned goods in the trunk of my car. I had a can opener. I would sneak out to my car at 4 in the morning, reading a textbook, writing a rough draft of a paper. Eat a cold can of something."

   "Christ… well, you found a solution, at least…"

   "Nope. I swear, she woke up to take a piss? She would get out the front door, and yell at me. She caught me eating when I wasn't allowed to eat."

   "Holy mother of----"

   "Yeah."

   "So, then what did you do? Big argument…"

   "No. Hun? I was in my 20s. I just drove off. Went to the truck stop. Read my book there. All night. Fucking bliss…"

   "Well, that finally ended it."

   "I just started coming home, then leaving. No fighting, no arguing. I… just would walk out, and drive away."

   "Didn't anyone else think… padlocks on the fridge and the cupboards was crazy?"

   "Why? My dad had a key. My little brother, still at home? He had a key. If he had a friend over? They had a key too. It was just me. Everyone else? Was allowed to go get a snack."

   "I don't believe this…"

   He looked up, he had been talking in a monotone to the floor. She wasn't scared of him at all, but she definitely regretted her choice of words. His face had dropped. It was the blank nothing face, with no expression. Eyes that curiously darted and studied her.

   "Are you calling me a liar?"

   "What if I am?"

   "Nothing happens. Just curious if you were calling me a liar, that's all."

   "No. I wasn't calling you a liar. I guess what I meant, was that it's hard to believe… but I still believe you. It's just a phrase."

   He studied her face and eyes dispassionately, then dismissed it. He returned to studying the floor with great apparent interest.

   "One fine day, I woke up on a weekend. My two older brothers and their families came in. Wow. I got up, went to go to the bathroom? I see my oldest brother out having coffee on the patio. Huh. Walked out to say hi. Asked if he minded if I had a cup of coffee with him. He said sure. I went and got one. We're sitting there talking, and I'm laughing, telling him how crazy mom has gotten, all about the locks on the fridge and the cupboards."

   "I can imagine. What did he think about all this?"

   "Oh. He looked at me, and said there's no locks on anything. What are you talking about? I go in. All the locks were gone. When my parents were back? I asked where the locks were. They both asked me what locks was I talking about. My little brother? His girlfriend? Both smiling at me, pretending they don't know what I'm talking about."

   "I…"

   He looked up at her again.

   "Oh, shit. I was about to say it wrong… look, I believe you. I just never heard of anything like this before. Doesn't mean I don't believe you…"

   He continued speaking to the floor.

   "I wanna be done talking about this. I'm going for a walk. I'm not mad. I just wanna walk around…"

   "Can we just finish this? Then it'll be done."

   "I really don't want to. I want, to go for a walk."

   "How did this all end up?"

   "How do you think it all ended up. I got… frustrated and sarcastic and… angry."

   "You didn't…"

   "No. I didn't put my hands on anyone, but… no one's allowed to put their hands on me, and rub me, and calm me down… I'm… agitated. Everyone backed away from me, and as I'm walking away? I can hear my mom telling everyone there's something wrong with me, don't pay me any attention…"

   "What did you do?"

   "I left. When I came back, late? I wouldn't talk to anyone. I ignored everyone. Next day? I just got up and left again, came back late. Did that the whole time my brothers are in. I was sick of it. If I stay? I'm gonna put my hands on someone. I ended up staying at the truck stop late every night. My mom locked the doors? I just slept in my car."

   "You… didn't try to do anything about it?"

   "Oh. I played her game back…"

   And he started laughing at the floor, remembering.

   "You know about me and locks?"

   "Yeah…"

   "Well. This was a big set of 8 MeisterLocks. The ones with the red band. You buy a pack of them, the key works all the locks."

   "Right."

   "I bought one. So I could buy a blank key that matched. I got a little diamond file, a tiny one. Four tumblers. Well, technically four and a half tumblers. The so called 5th tumbler? Is just an on off two position spot, not technically a tumbler. I filed down the first tumbler, until it just went in. Then? You slowly file down and keep trying, until the second one went in. Took me two days, to file a key that worked. Ruined the first one, the second one I got working perfect."

   "You made your own master key…"

   "Yeah. I started stealing cans of food. Rearranging the food cans. Moving things around in the refrigerator."

   Merry chuckled.

   "Yeah. My mom's screaming at my dad, screaming at my little brother. Where were their keys? I'm laughing to myself. Hey, mom… I don't know what you're talking about. I think you're mistaken."

   "You got her back."

   "Yeah. She decided, I must have stolen the key somehow, made a copy. She buys another all new set of MeisterLocks. Hides the keys. Nobody but her had the keys. Guess what? I'm making my own master key with a file… it kept happening. I started leaving little notes behind the locked doors. If you can read this? You need help."

   Merry started to almost belly laugh, then stopped herself.

   "Okay, this isn't really funny, I shouldn't be laughing…"

   "No. It's funny. I know it is… then? I had my revenge."

   "You… made your own key. You had your revenge."

   "Oh no. Finally? My mom freaked out so bad, she ended up calling one of my brothers, and screaming at what I was doing, and how was I doing it? She had the only key now. It wasn't possible. But… she lost her game. Remember, I wasn't so mad she was doing it? I was mad she was lying about it, and trying to make me out to be the crazy one. She got so mad, complaining to my older brother on the phone? He must have said something. Remember, she'd been pretending to him she didn't know what I was talking about…"

   "What did your mom do?"

   "Oh. She went crazy. Screaming. Yelling. Throwing shit. My dad looks at me? And just says thanks…"

   "Ouch."

   "I just left. I wasn't mad at him? But… she had him in on her little plan, to make me look nuts. To my whole family."

   "How did this end up?"

   "Next thing? I'm not allowed to shower. Then I can't wash my clothes."

   "Why not?"

   "I honestly don't know."

   "What did you do?"

   "I started taking a bath at the gym at school. Going to the laundromat and hey, that's a nice place to read your textbook. Quiet."

   "You didn't just leave?"

   "That was the weird part. She wanted me to stay. She'd promise it would change? Didn't last a week."

   "Well, when did you finally leave?"

   "To have fun? I started hiding notes. In my wallet. At the bottom of the garbage can."

   "I'm afraid to ask…"

   "If you're reading this note? You need help."

   "Oh shit…"

   "Yeah. We had a big blowout. I'm arguing with my mom, my dad gets in on it. We're not fighting, but, he starts pushing and shoving."

   "You didn't…"

   "No. I didn't. Just yelling and pushing and shoving. Then? My little brother comes flying out of nowhere. He blindsided me. He literally ran into me, full tilt. Shoulder blocked me… I went flying, I was busy holding my dad off so I wouldn't get hurt, and I wouldn't hurt him, either."

   "Did you…"

   "Oh yeah. He thought he was going to play ring around the rosy with me, around the downstairs couch. I finally jumped over the couch, and got my hand on his throat. He thought he was gonna pull his pee wee karate class bullshit, I mean, give me a break. He might not know what I was, but…"

   "Did you hit him?"

   "No. I just choked him purple while I explained shit quietly to him, then I let him go. More pushing and shoving, as I'm gathering some clothes and my books up. I'm leaving. I got shoved, carrying a box full of my clothes out to my car, and… I kinda went over and all my weight came down on my tailbone. Right on the corner of the stone fireplace. I swear, my little brother is trying his best to get me to whack him one."

   Merry made a face…

   "Yeah. You can't do anything for a broken tailbone. It's just pain, and you have to wait for it to go away. I was in agony for weeks. My little brother is making some kind of weird little speech, about how mom and dad are good to me, and, I don't know. It was so fake, it wasn't even funny."

   "What did you do?"

   "Fuck it. I lived in my car to finish college. Then? I got a little shitty one room apartment. Bought my gigantic old falling down house, and that was that."

   "You… never went back?"

   "Oh. After I had my own house? I started going back. I pretended like nothing ever happened. Everyone was happier like that. The only difference was? If my mom tried any of her shit? I made fun of her, laughed, and moved right along. If she got mad? I stayed away for months."

   "This isn't normal."

   "No shit. But… it's water under the bridge. I laugh at all this stuff. I tell the guys this stuff? And I make jokes about it."

   "It's not funny."

   "Then why are we laughing as we talk about it? You know damn well, that it's funny to hear the story. I laugh about it, you might as well too. If this was all on some weekly TV show? We'd be laughing our asses off."

   "It doesn't… bother you?"

   "Not really. No. Did when I was young. I just learned to laugh about it, and… it doesn't bother me any more."

   "Well. The shit finally ended, more or less."

   "Oh. Not really. When we were taking care of my mom and dad dying?"

   "Yeah…"

   "Everyone else was allowed to take a shower, wash their clothes. We're all coming in and staying there, you know. Taking care of them. Dad was dying, and mom started dying before dad died."

   "I remember. You and your brother took care of them."

   "Yeah. My oldest brother? Him and me. We were the only two brothers, out of four of us… that could… put the plastic gloves on that go up to your elbows, to take care of a man dying bad from cancer. If you know what I mean about that."

   Merry was quiet.

   "I know. I never seen it? But… I've heard. I know."

   "Right. That was me and the oldest brother. The other two couldn't… handle that. We could. He asked me why I didn't shower, or wash my clothes there. Why did I go home and do it and come back."

   "What did you say?"

   He chuckled.

   "I asked if he remembered the kitchen locks. He didn't say anything. I told him, to bring it up in front of mom. He did. She just said… oh… you should just go home and do that…"

   "So he knew."

   "Yeah. Then? My little brother, and his wife, and his two kids came over? Dad was still alive, but, just barely. Mom was downhill. Grand-kids."

   "Yeah…"

   "It's summer. Everyone's in sandals, everyone's in bare feet in the house. I'm just laying in the living room, watching TV, while mom and dad's enjoying the grand-kids. I'm in my bare feet too, like everyone else was."

   "So?"

   "My mom tells me, to go put socks and shoes on. I asked why? It's summer, we're all in flip flops."

   "What did she say."

   Always talking at the floor, in the monotone.

   "There's little kids running around. You should put your shoes on. I said nicely. Mom… everyone's in sandals and flip flops. The kids are in their bare feet too. What's the problem? Oh… you just should. The kids are on the floor. It's dirty. Go and do it. Now… just me? Everyone else is fine, it's just me."

   "What was the point?"

   "I don't know. I never was supposed to use her upstairs bathroom. I'm not allowed to wash my clothes. I'm not allowed to shower there. Now? Everyone else can be in their bare feet, it's fine. Not me though. I guess, there's something… dirty about me. I'm just… something. I don't know. Foul. Unclean. Like she's afraid I'll infect the little toddlers with my uncleanness."

   "What did you say?"

   "Not a word. I just got up, walked away, went outside. Sat there. Drinking coffee. Wouldn't come in for love nor money. Then, when I finally did?"

   And he laughed.

   "What?"

   "I'm sitting there, and the little family dog my parents had. It liked me. It's all happy to sit on my lap, and give me loving. I'm making over the dog, so I don't have to deal with this."

   "What's so bad about that?"

   "My dad. He never did like me and cats and dogs. He's all… ah, it's disgusting. You sit and kiss that dog like a woman. It makes me wanna puke."

   "You didn't…"

   "Nope. Didn't say a word. Just made another pot of coffee? Went out on the patio, and quietly stayed out there. My brothers took turns coming out. I was quiet, but…"

   "But what."

   "Oh. The oldest one, taking care of them with me? He's all, dad's on morphine, he doesn't mean it. I laughed. I said he's been saying that my whole life. Go back in. I'm not mad. The other older brother comes out? He's all hugging me about it, told him to just go back in. I ain't talking about it. Then? My little brother came out."

   "Oh shit…"

   "No. I just told him. You? Got the pretty wife and the pretty grand-kids. The grand-kids? Put a smile on mom and dad's face. Go make them smile. Let me sit here. That was that."

   Merry could feel her guts wrench up into a tight knot, and pulse with little shots of mild pain. She was glad she had her thermostat turned down, because she knew she didn't want to feel the full force of that emotional shot in the gut, not full force. Half level was bad enough.

   "I don't know what to say."

   "So? Just laugh. That's what I do. Merry?"

   "Yes…"

   His voice was low and soothing, though he still addressed the floor.

   "Is it my turn to bring something up now?"

   "Sure."

   "Thank you. I didn't want to talk about this. You wanted to. So? We compromised, and we talked about it. Then? I wanted to stop talking about. You? Wanted to keep going. So, we compromised… and we kept going into all of it. I distinctly remember I wanted to just… go walk around and forget about it? You said you wanted to finish it. Once again? We compromised, by finishing it."

   Merry didn't say anything. He continued to study the dirt floor and talk to it, and his voice went even more soft and soothing.

   "I'm not mad. I'm not threatening you. I'm not going to try to give you any rules. I'm not one of those guys that says… when I say no? I mean no. I'm… flexible. Now then… are you happy?"

   "I…"

   "What was the point? I'm not taking happy pills that make me stupid. Because my mom was nuts. I'm not taking happy pills, because people don't like the fact I'm different. Because I like to hug and kiss dogs, and I don't care where I'm at, who sees it, who has a problem with it. It's between me and the animal."

   "Don't get upset…"

   "I'm calm. I'm not upset. I just don't want to live my life like that. I don't wanna run around and wring my hands and yell in the grocery store. If you haven't noticed? I refuse to use coupons. Ever. Sometimes? I go to the store and buy something every day. Then sometimes? I buy a bunch of stuff at once. Sometimes I make a list, sometimes I just wing it. I saw other people in the grocery store? Everyone's all smiles, having fun. I wanna to be like that. I want food to be fun."

   "Okay…"

   "I don't wanna argue when I eat. I wanna talk and joke and have fun. Enjoy it. If you wanna eat something else, when I'm eating the same thing for two days? Fine. Make something different. Or I'll make it for you. I don't care. You want steak and lobster one night? Fine. You burn a steak? Whatever… give it to the cat or throw it out, and grab another one. I don't care. Whatever makes you happy. You wanna eat out? We'll eat out. I really don't care. I just don't wanna argue about it."

   "Okay. What… don't you want?"

   "I would prefer? To eat what I want. I like to eat whenever I feel like it. You can too, enjoy it. I take a shit? Whenever my ass feels like it. I don't plan it. You really are in charge of my sleeping right now? Until… shit goes back to normal. Then… I wanna stay up sometimes, having fun working on something. I might wanna sleep in here and there. As long as I don't go off the deep end, when all this is over."

   "Sounds fine to me."

   "Great. Now… am I allowed to go for my walk now?"

   "You don't need my permission to go for a walk, honey…"

   "Just checking."

   He got up, and went for a short walk, and was back in maybe ten minutes.

   "All right. Come on, let's go for a drive."

   "We gotta put some of the food away…"

   "So? We'll put it away."

   "Where are we going?"

   "It's a surprise."

   He took her back to the store, so they could get yogurt and cottage cheese. They walked around, and window shopped the food aisles for nothing in particular. On the way out, they saw a little rack of T shirts. One was trimmed with pink and had pink letters, that urged the onlooker to "kiss the cook".

   Merry gave him a look. He shrugged.

   "This is my cooking apron? It's a cut off…"

   "I know. You said, I get my leg show when you're cooking."

   "All right."

   When they got back, she asked if he wanted tater tots. He smiled and nodded. He asked what she wanted. He wormed it out of her, that she wanted fruit salad and cottage cheese. He told her to make both. Merry put her new "apron" shirt on, and ran around in her new cut off kiss the cook T shirt. The cut off didn't even attempt to cover her midriff, let alone the underwear she wore along with the flip flops. She giggled and laughed when she did the show of bending over to check on the tater tots far too often.

   "I look like complete white trash."

   "I know. I love it."

   They shared a hand-rolled cigarette, while Merry finished cooking the "meal".

   When she brought the tater tots over to him on the bed, he asked why he didn't get any of the fruit salad and cottage cheese she had. She got onto the bed next to him and they sat up against the home made headboard with pillows backing them, and ate off of each other's plate as well as their own.

   "Honey?"

   "Yeah."

   "You have to admit, there's no point to having psychology degrees, if you you never talk about stuff."

   "I know. I tell you lots of stuff. But, there's no point to a lot of it. Not like anyone can do anything about it. It happened? I got over it. I make jokes about it, but, I don't want to dwell on that stuff. And…"

   "And?"

   "And… can this be a short talk? I want this to be done for now."

   "Hmm. Okay. How do you get along with your family now…"

   "Honestly? I just don't. I never see them."

   "Never?"

   "Not since mom and dad died. That was it."

   "Why not?"

   "Four brothers. Oldest? I already know, his wife hates me. I said some really rude shit to her before, when she was pulling mom shit on me. I'd had it? I let her have both barrels. I just got sick and tired, of people coming to my house. And making fun of me. Like it was the thing to do. Fuck that. It gets old. Man… woman… didn't matter anymore. I felt like, how do I explain this. Like… everyone is not only allowed, but… they're invited to talk shit on me, in my own house. And if I say anything back? I'm the asshole. If I'm gonna be the asshole either way? Fuck it."

   "The other brothers?"

   "The second oldest. Hmm. We get along fine. He just gets… frustrated, when he tries to talk to me. I'm supposed to forgive and forget. I'm supposed to just take it. I'm supposed to turn the other cheek. Everything's all peace and love. I'll ignore shit for a long time? But… not forever. He gets. Well… he gets frustrated when I don't. So, we just don't go through it anymore. Other than that? We do fine. We both have a silly sense of humor. We take turns telling funny stories."

   "And the youngest?"

   "Technically? We do okay."

   "What does… technically mean. I've never heard that."

   "It means. What does it mean. Well… I remember before dad and then mom got bad. Why didn't I get invited to his new house with mom and dad. My mom gave me some lame ass excuse about, maybe the last time I was over there, I peed in the yard behind the house."

   "In front of people?!?!"

   "Hell no. I snuck off to take a squirt. No one around. Maybe he caught me on camera or something. The cat pisses in the bushes. The dog pisses in the yard. Why can't I do it, if no one's around. All I know? I wasn't wanted. I always was nice to him. I congratulated him on every success he ever had. Told him I thought his wife was beautiful and intelligent, thought he had great kids. He… you know what? Remember how the homicide guy here early in the morning, was talking about how his relative, the lawyer, the politician? Liked to act smug and superior? I get a sense of that."

   "Are you sure?"

   "Well. Remember I was getting snubbed, not getting invited? Even though there were no issues?"

   "Yeah…"

   "Here's another one. I didn't even know he lived in some big shot housing plan in this one town. Now, I worked in that town at that time. Every Monday. When I found out? I wanted his phone number, his address. Hey, I'll stop on my way home from work once in a while. He ignored me. So? I said it again. Very plain. Right to his face. Asked for his address or just the phone number. He smiled at me, turned his head, ignored me, and went right on talking to the other people, like I was some little three year old. Shit like that? Makes me wanna knock his block off, I won't lie. But… I let it go."

   "Do you have any family?"

   "Just the 3 brothers. Like I said. Technically? We all get along fine. But… those are the… issues. Remember my mom? It's like there's something foul, and unclean about me. That's how I see it. Ever since mom and dad died? I don't hear from any of them. And I ain't gonna force myself on them."

   "This doesn't sound good."

   "It could be worse. I know brothers that can't be in the same room together. I get along fine with the two oldest brothers. The one's wife? We just talk polite after our little spat, we ignore it to keep the peace. The youngest? As long as I let him snub me and… I don't know, let him think he's superior to me? No one says anything. I just let it all go."

   "It's just not good."

   "I used to hate it when people said this when I was young? But… here I go. It is what it is. My phone ain't gonna magically start ringing off the hook. I ain't forcing myself on anyone."

   "Assuming you're right, that you sense your little brother thinks he's… superior, as you put it. Why would he think that?"

   "Why not? He has a big job. His wife? Her family is rich. They own a string of restaurants. I remember my mom bragging his company moved him and his wife and kids out to California for a couple years, then they would fly him back and forth. You know, mister important."

   "Surely he knows you… made something out of yourself, right?"

   "What? As far as anyone else knows? I went to the Air Force for a couple years. I had some job for several years, with a computer and a radio. I eventually came back? I work a couple days a week as a delivery driver. I have some shitty old house, in some shitty little town."

   "You… never told anyone, that you have…"

   "Have what? A nest egg? No. It's no one's business. If people can't like me for being a part time delivery driver? With an old house, and a lot of hobbies? No, they don't need to know I have money put back."

   "Why did you tell me then…"

   "Why? Well, you told me about you. I got the feeling, you thought I was down to my last couple bucks, staying in the city. I got the sense, you were gonna try to give me money to keep your… home life, or whatever going for you. I ain't having that. I have my own money, I don't need taken care of. You got your egg, I got mine. For us? No one's taking care of the other one… we just take care of each other."

   "I guess that's sort of sweet."

   "I hope so. We both have our own money. You're not with me for any kind of prestige I have. And you? As far as anyone knows, you're just some out of work waitress. For us? The only reason we're together, is that we like each other. To me, family is supposed to be like that, too. I guess it isn't."

   "You don't feel… alone?"

   "Nope. I had my ex, for a long time. Now? I got you. Guy that owned my pizza shop I managed and delivered at for years? I guess that's my best friend, in the real world. He's divorced, but, I'm still best friends with his wife. She remarried, and her and her new husband treat me like gold when I'm over there. I got a couple of… coffee buddies that I'm tight with. For years. All those people? Yeah, they're like family to me. A few guys like Robbie and Skykid, naturally. I like most of the guys from the website. I have my cat. I can't wait to get him here with us. No, I don't feel alone. I don't feel lonely. And remember, I can spend any amount of time alone, and it doesn't bother me. At all. I don't need these people I talked about? I like being around them. It's different, when you don't need them, and you still like them."

   "Okay. You said you wanted it to be short and sweet."

   "Well?"

   "Well what."

   "Do… I pass? Am I okay? My headshrinker gives me a clean bill of mental health."

   "Yeah. Everything considered? I guess I'm amazed you do as well as you do."

   "I don't understand it all. I won't pretend to, but… everything? It just is what it is. When we were… down there…"

   "Yeah…"

   "Well, you get injured sometimes. I'm young and healthy. They patch you up. You get some time off. I already had a bunch of college credits, from what they call the community college of the Air Force."

   "Is that a college?"

   He laughed.

   "No. You can take college classes, at any local college. They just call the program that. Then? When I'd get hurt, and get time off? I always scheduled a semester of college. It's only 15 weeks for a semester, you know. I'd go home, I'd go to class… then? Go back."

   "What do you mean by that?"

   "Ah. I got hurt, then I'm home recovering and taking a break. Squeeze another semester of college in. I mean, I went to the service, then I'm doing that. I'm risking my life, to protect innocent people. By that time? No one knew it, but, I'm actually getting paid really well for it. I ain't jacking off with my rest time, I'm hitting college. What gives my brother's third wife the idea, she's supposed to make fun of me, like I haven't made something out of myself, you know? Just because I don't have a brand new car and a brand new house, doesn't mean the person isn't doing something."

   "I think you already did… great things. And? You're doing it again."

   "What about you. How are you with your family?"

   "Okay. Fine, I guess. I don't get to go home much. When I do? All my parents know is that after college, I joined the… you know."

   "So, they know what you do?"

   "They know who I went to work for. They know I have to use another name. They know they can't come and visit me, and that I hardly ever get to go home and visit them. They know not to mention me on social media, or take pictures of me or anything like that. The house? Is… Merry proofed, if you know what I mean."

   "Aw, how do you get treated?"

   "Fine. I'm very very sure, my parents would be happier if I just… got married, had kids, and was a therapist or something somewhere. I guess I'm a little bit like you used to be. I can't tell anyone exactly what I'm doing. I can't make babies anyways, and… I couldn't really get married, even if I wanted to."

   "You have any issues, with brothers or sisters?"

   "Hmm. Haunted twat rules. I have one sister. Little sister. We get along okay."

   "Just okay?"

   "Eh. Moms and dads want grand-kids. She gave it to them. She has a husband, and a kid. And no, she's not like me."

   "So, she's not wonderful then. Cause I think you're wonderful."

   "She… has a… normal thermostat setting. No problems with the other girls, or dating boys. She played a sport or two, but, not like I did. I guess she looks a little like a smaller version of me. Couple inches shorter, not quite as big as I am. I take after my dad that way, she takes after my mom more that way."

   "No competition?"

   "Not really. You know how you boys… compete? With money and cars and shit like that?"

   "Yeah. I guess."

   "Girls… women… compete differently. Instead of cars and money? We compete with our husbands and boyfriends."

   "No, wait. You women? Also compete like guys do. Maybe it's clothes and jewelry instead of cars and toys, but…"

   "Honey? It's the same thing. Money and what it buys? Is the same for both. Trophy wife? Trophy husband. There's only a couple real differences."

   "Which are?"

   "Men are less concerned with their looks, women are more concerned about it. A man brags about what he has, and what he can do. A woman? More concerned about what the man can give her. Men tend to care way more about the look of their wife, women tend to care way more about what the man can do."

   "So. According to traditional yardsticks in our society we live in? We're both technically losers, as far as anyone else knows."

   Panic laughed, and she caught the giggles too.

   "Well… we have company in. I guess us losers should get back for a little while."

   "Yeah. I got Mike, you got Speedy and your lab guy and his family in."

   "As much as I like it, I guess you should maybe change clothes…"

   "Yeah."

   On the way back to the camp, to join everyone else for the rest of the weekend, they walked slowly. Merry gave him one of her expressive smiles, and Panic realized that it was far too easy to forget that it was one of her masks. He thought about it, and decided that most people simply wore an expression automatically. She had to decide to do it. She had been doing it so long and so well, that it was reflexive and automatic enough he could consider it genuine. She wanted to smile and show him she felt happy about things.

   Like always, he over analyzed everything. Was it possible he was being conned? He entertained the thought. She certainly had all the necessary abilities to do it and do it well. If she kept her psychology to herself, she could play someone like a fiddle. Mike was a smart, competent long range planner… and even he admitted she was good at plans and schemes. She was fully capable of sleeping with people for a best result at work, she had admitted doing it.

   Did she latch onto him at first for an idle distraction, then maybe decided he was too valuable for protection? It would be logical. A person in her position, would use people around them as best they could to generate what support they weren't able to have by definition. Mike was even trying to cement that position in, to protect his asset and his long range operation.

   Mike. He had come from military intelligence. It was possible he already knew earlier than she had claimed. They could have strategically decided together this was the best port in the storm. That was enough for the possibilities that way. What indications were in favor that everything was as it seemed?

   She could have kept her mouth shut and denied everything. She didn't have to come out to him. Hell, it would have enhanced her cover and reputation to get a fine or a short stint in county for denting the donut whore's skull. Mike would have arranged a few easy phone calls to "play nice", and prosecutors would have been under the impression she was being watched, and let go because there were bigger fish to fry, by keeping tabs on this one.

   That would have been even more logical, given their position. No, his gut told him she had been sort of showing off a little. She had practically baited him into his confrontation. She had even said it was a little over the top, telling him and the chief more or less what she was doing, with everyone oblivious at the time. It had been identical to the in jokes she had made in conversation at the salon. A wink and a nod to have fun with it.

   If he really was just a great port in a surprise storm, he would outlive his usefulness. During or after the dirty dozen trial, she would begin pulling back. Having second thoughts. Describing how it had been fun, but they weren't just right for each other. Give him the famous key and lock analogy. Hey, the key fits the lock, but it just doesn't unlock it.

   They were holding hands and walking slowly, when he felt his arm jerk. She had stopped. He looked and she gave a young girl's smile. Silly fun, like tripping a boy walking past in class. He pretended to make faces and pull and yank, and was unable to move her. He mopped his hand across his forehead in the mock effort. She giggled at his antics.

   "Do your cogs ever quit turning?"

   "I could start drinking whiskey for breakfast, if you want my cogs to run at the normal guy speed…"

   She shook her head no.

   "What's the new problem then. You got that look on your face."

   "What look's that? I really can't see my own face, you know."

   "You got the look you had… when you were sitting down reading the witch's romance novels. And… that's the only time you go space cadet on me. When the cogs are churning."

   "Oh. Just planning what to do with the body."

   "What body?"

   "Yours."

   "Mmm. You finally gonna do away with me, or… just use me like a sex crime victim."

   "Maybe both?"

   "Huh. That's actually sweet."

   "Planning your demise is sweet?"

   She smiled and nodded.

   "Sure. Used rough is a fun weekend. And… if you're planning on making me disappear? That means you're forcing me into…"

   She leaned in to whisper…

   "Early retirement. Which is very sweet."

   He thought to himself… give her a way out. Give her the little wedge if she wants to poke it in and lift a little crack.

   "You ever… think we won't make it?"

   "Won't make what?"

   "Make it. Being together."

   Merry laughed.

   "That's what you're spinning your cogs on?"

   "Not really. Everyone has worries and doubts, right?"

   "I guess. Hun? I thought we already made it. We're already together. Am… I missing something?"

   "Uh… no."

   "Okay. Do… you feel some kind of… pressure of some kind?"

   "Not really, no."

   "I admit, things have been crazy. They just got crazier? Then, it wrapped up as quick as it hit. Now it's just another little trial. I know how that sounds, but… taken with everything else…"

   Panic chuckled.

   "Freak anyone else out, but for us? Kinda small potatoes."

   "Mm? Yeah. My big trial bullshit is coming up, and Mike insists it'll happen fast when it hits. Everyone wants it over with. Which suits my ass fine."

   "Yeah."

   "Which bring you right back to where all the crazy shit started. Mike says it should hit soon."

   "What?"

   "Your case. I'm kind of… embarrassed I took you away from it. It's the whole point of where this all started."

   "And then?"

   "What's with you. Then…"

   She waved her fingers around her.

   "Then… this. At least five, maybe ten years of it. You having second thoughts? I guess I should have asked you more and made sure."

   "No. I'm not. You?"

   "Second thoughts? Ha! I was actually more worried about you on that score. Hun, I told you. More than once. If you want out? You can get out. Am I a… tornado in your life? I could go back to DC, stick the microphone where it was supposed to be all along. Haunted twat rules? Are just if you don't tell me. If you want out? You can. Anytime."

   "I don't want out. I guess I was worried maybe you did."

   She shook her head no.

   "Don't sweat that. I can't wait for us to wrap our shit up and settle down some. You're sure?"

   "You know what Rob really taught me? Maybe the most important thing."

   "What…"

   "How to pull the trigger. I don't mean shooting. I mean pulling the trigger. Like in sports. How to feel the right moment when to make your move. You can't blink, you can't guess it, you can't plan it that fine… you have to just feel it and bang. I was always, a long range planner. Rob? He does too, but, not like me. He had a great sense of just… there it is, wham."

   "He taught you that?"

   "Yeah. I would always be complaining this or that wasn't planned, it's too quick. You know what Rob said?"

   "No. How could I."

   "What are you worried about? We just had a big win. We could of spent a whole year trying to get here, and here we are. Bang. Now? We can spend that year getting twice as far in the same time."

   They were back to walking slowly, holding hands without thinking about it. The only difference now was, he was here. In the moment, not off in space.

   "Is that how you think of me? You… pulled the trigger, and won something?"

   "Yeah, sure."

   "Wow."

   "What?"

   "I just was thinking about what your words meant. If you pulled the trigger on me, and it happened quick?"

   "Yeah. It did. Months, not years."

   "Hmm. Are you trying to be a sweetie pie?"

   "Not really. Why?"

   "Well… the rest of it. Since you won something quick… you said you can use that time to get even further. That, is a very sweetie pie thing to tell a girl."

   "Really?"

   "Duh. I can't drop a boat anchor on you, like most women can. And without a boat anchor? You're still planning for us. That's very sweet."

   "Oh yeah. My master plan all along, you know."

   "Well. It's working."

   He waited a bit.

   "Merry?"

   "Yeah…"

   "You know how you have to sometimes draw something in crayon for me?"

   "Just every once in a while. It's… cute. Why?"

   "Uh… what's a boat anchor? I might not be up on my hipster lingo."

   She stopped and looked at him. Mild incredulity on her face.

   "Seriously?"

   "I asked, didn't I?"

   Merry rolled her eyes, smiled and tugged his hand to get him walking slowly again.

   "Boat anchor. You drop anchor, and the boat stops. The boat's kinda trapped."

   "Yeah…"

   "The baby is the boat anchor, Panic. When a woman thinks she's found it? She drops the boat anchor on the relationship. That's why they call the first kid the anchor baby. The woman's twat? Suddenly drops anchor and everything skids to a stop, and the boat's trapped."

   "Oh."

   "The man is the boat, you know…"

   "Yeah… I got that part, smart ass."

   "Just making sure, dear. The woman rides the man. Literally, of course. And most women ride the man financially, too. The man, the boat… is moving along through life. Some men look at the first baby in their life? As the boat ride stops."

   "At least we're not yuppies. That's something."

   "Everybody is something in today's world, honey. Do you know what a yuppie is?"

   "Everyone know what a yuppie is."

   "Well? What is it?"

   "Annoying city people. Tend to be young, decent job, really hip and with it. Shallow. Follow every trend."

   "It is now, that the word entered the vocabulary. It started out? Young… Urban… Professional. Yuppie. There's other nicknames, you know."

   "Really?"

   "No one knows it, except me, you and Mike. But… we're actually called DINKs."

   "Great, I'm a dink. What's a dink?"

   Merry looked around to make sure they weren't overheard on the trail and leaned in.

   "Double income. No kids. DINKs."

   "Who sits around and thinks these things up?"

   "Sociologists. People writing about classifications of people in America."

   "I wish they could have came up with a better word than a dink…"

   "Well? They didn't."

   They were right around the last bend in the trail, where they would open up on the main camp. They could hear the mild buzz of people talking, the occasional high pitched squeal of the little girl running around. Merry hugged him around the waist, and leaned in.

   "Unfortunately for you? Every woman needs some annoying nickname for her man. Has to be something cute sounding, too. Until something better comes up? I think, that you, are going to be… Dinky."

   While he just looked at her, obviously speechless? She hurriedly kissed him and suddenly trotted off to around the bend to come into sight of them approaching the camp.

   That was when he heard his name being called.

   "Come on, Dinky! Quit lollygagging!"