Found - Chapter 92

   Panic had gotten used to the feeling that time was suspended when they spent idle time alone, with no schedule to run towards. The lights were out, so the room was still theirs. The locksmith Mike wanted was apparently in demand, and he was willing to wait on him. Everything was on hold, and he just enjoyed it. They had another cold shower, and instead of complaining like anyone else… it was quicker and easier and more convenient than a hike to the cold stream they were used to using. They ended up doing nothing on the bed, half wrapped in the extra towels they could filch with Timmy's blessing.

   "So. We just did the declarative phase of our relationship, huh?"

   "We did."

   "It went well, you said."

   "Yes. It did."

   "What phases are left?"

   "After declaration and acceptance is over? Biochemically there isn't anything particularly surprising or spectacular. The rest of our society has some weird shit they put through themselves, but… I kinda figured we wouldn't."

   "What though."

   "Well. We're still in the infatuation phase."

   "How long does that last…"

   "Typically, three to eighteen months. Shorter for people with… various issues. Longer for others."

   "I didn't know we had a timer set on the fun part."

   "The tap on these wonderful chemicals we're making and enjoying? It doesn't just shut off. It winds down very slowly. You don't notice it. Eventually though, it happens. The old timers called it the seven year itch."

   "That's when you get crabs, or body lice. Girl cooties, we called it as little boys. You get the girl cooties. They all have them, I'm just sure of it."

   "Seven years is just the average, and people noticed it over the centuries. It's when you hear… The fire is gone… I just don't feel it anymore… it's just not like it used to be…"

   "Then I get the girl cooties."

   Merry giggled.

   "That's why the old timers? Always told new, young couples the same thing over and over. Pick a mate wisely. This? Won't last. Make sure that you're best friends, not just lovers."

   "Those old timers? You and your researchers could have cut a lot of time off of the research, if you'd have just listened to them."

   "Different research teams? Studied each individual… old timer's wisdom. First to see if it seemed statistically true, then when the results were statistically reproducible, they went looking for the why. Teams of teams, worked on each individual wisdom that was proven true, each looking for a different biochemical reason."

   Panic asked her straight out.

   "So… are we best friends?"

   "I think we are. You?"

   "Sure. What do we do, or… don't do… to not fuck it up?"

   "That part's actually pretty easy. If you're really just being yourself? You just keep doing it. That's where most couples fuck it up, by the way."

   "How?"

   "Guy wants to land this one girl. She comes from a family with money. He makes sure he has the right clothes, the right talk and walk. The right rented car. When that rented act runs out? The girl has two choices in front of her. She can think it's so sweet that he tried so hard, and she realizes she's in love with a handsome woodcutter who isn't really rich and probably won't ever become rich… or… she rolls her eyes and her friends say I told you so. She might grow suspicious of future prospects, and start asking questions… looking for what she now knows are tell tale signs of a faker. That relationship doesn't just end. Her future relationships are now in jeopardy."

   "What should they have done?"

   "Just tell each other the truth up front. She might have an urge to try out a guy without a bank account. She might like a guy with the confidence to not be intimidated by the rich family and friends. Anything can happen, you know. She might even discover that when her friends all figure out she's not just having fun slumming it and she's serious? They might turn her and her beau off. Let her know he's not quality enough to be around. She might see through the… bullshit."

   "But most women are wired to look for a good provider. And society is reinforcing that on her. The fairy tale ending isn't very probable. Science girl told me this."

   "She did. The more likely outcome? Is that the guy goes off. With a chip on his shoulder now. He either hates rich girls and rich people now? Or… he's going to really make something out of himself now. Which is probably a bad route to take. If he ever really makes it, and actually becomes one of the top earners? What's he attracting to himself."

   "Gold diggers, most likely."

   "Or… he buys a girl from a lower station."

   "And, as the old timers already observed… you simply can't buy love."

   "You can buy comfort. You can buy toys. You can definitely buy sex. But real love and real chemicals? No."

   Panic was curious now.

   "What are some other pitfalls, assuming money isn't any issue?"

   "Oh, there's plenty. You got your classic power struggle in the relationship. People don't know what they want, until they see their peers have it and rub it in."

   "Money. Toys."

   "No. Power. Who makes the decision, and on what. Who has the final say. When therapists unwind the big ball of wax, with a couple that's actually trying in good faith? We tend to find friends and family attached to the problem."

   "Eh?"

   "Oh yeah. You want classic examples?"

   "Sure… I don't wanna be the rube that falls for this shit."

   "Guy has a buddy. He's one of those big talkers…"

   Merry put on a comical big, deep man's bass voice.

   "Now, when I get home? My wife knows, that Big John better have supper waiting for him, I'll tell you that right now. She knows better. You gotta wear the pants, little buddy. Be the man."

   "Yeah… every group has one of those in it. Mr Big, I call him. They're just talking to hear themselves talk, was how my Dad always said it. Dad worked in a steel mill, trust me, there were plenty of Mr. Big's walking around town, when I was growing up."

   "Okay. So… some guys look up to a guy like that in the group. What happens when he goes home, and all of a sudden starts trying to pull this routine, one he never pulled before? I'll tell you. You get a conflict and a power struggle. Or… you get resentment and buried anger and disappointment. This couple? Already decided that shit years ago for themselves. This isn't good."

   "Hmm. If you don't get jealous of your buddies all having a big fishing boat, you get jealous now over the… the fuck do you even call that…"

   "It's power. You perceive your Mr. Big friend, has power and is showing it off. Hey, I should do that. When you're not the personality type that was normally doing that all along? Nothing good comes out of it."

   "And what do the girlfriends do. There a… Mrs. Big?"

   "Oh sure. Men? Tend to do an up front power control. Male aggression. Some women do that too, but… most of them use passive aggression. Some learn both, and switch around to get whatever they want at the moment. Want the generic girl version?"

   "Oh, I'm all ears. I'm gathering intel, on the enemy. How do their warped little brains operate."

   "Same thing. Mrs. Big, will brag about the power and control she has over her man, and give examples. I run the household, is a big one. So, they run the finances. They schedule everything. They issue orders. And? They hand out ever so helpful advice, on how to get that power and keep wielding it."

   "Like…"

   "Turn on the waterworks. Pout around the house. Most men want their woman reasonably happy. She's not happy, they'll try to fix it."

   "And if the spoiled brat routine doesn't work…"

   "Shut off the tap on his sex. Don't say why. When he does what you want? Turn his tap back on. Never admit that's how it works? But… that's how it works."

   Panic giggled.

   "Not tonight. I'd love to? But I have a headache…"

   "Yeah. If that doesn't work? There's other techniques. Take the kids and go to your parents house for a month or two. He'll come begging."

   "Is this over finances usually?"

   "And other things. A man that's used to going out every Friday and Saturday fishing? Oh. That's coming to a halt, mister. We're a family. We're going to do family every weekend. This childish shit is stopping, and I mean right now."

   "Scheduling."

   Merry smiled and went on.

   "You dress like a retard. We're not little kids anymore, we're grownups. You? Are going to get a decent haircut, and start wearing big boy clothes. I'm throwing all this stupid little kid shit out. I'm not living with a grown up little boy anymore. Time to grow up, mister."

   "I'm going to dress you like one of my dolls. I'm going to talk to you, like I'm the mother and you're a little boy."

   "Now. When this bullshit starts, and the guy starts caving in, or… coming to a compromise? That's another tool. You just demand twice as much as you really want, then settle for the compromise you propose. Now then… what do the guy's friends tell him about all of this?"

   "One smart friend, tells him how bad he's being played. Mr. Big gives him some great advice."

   "See how the friends, are really the problem at the bottom of all this? And the friends aren't really the problem, it's that the man and the woman are listening to them. Believing them. What do you think is really going on in Mr. Big's house? In reality."

   "He goes home, and if he mouths off like he claims he does? The wife looks right at him and tells him to fuck off, and stick his attitude up his ass."

   "Yeah. And Mrs. Big?"

   "Might not actually be ordering her husband around as much as she claims."

   "Or not. People will put up with stuff for an amazing amount of time, before they've had enough and start pushing back. It can really ramp up to big confrontations and long, protracted power struggles."

   "How does any relationship make it through this shit."

   "Opposites do attract. A strong alpha male, tends to find a natural beta female. He likes making decisions. She likes being told what to do. And the beta male? Likes having a wife that runs everything. He just goes to work, and comes home and does what he's told."

   "What happens when opposites don't attract?"

   "Alpha females tend to try to mate with alpha males. They argue and bicker and go back and forth, and it never ends. That's on the outside. When they're alone? She goes limp and does whatever her big strong man wants. Or? She pokes at him until he raises his voice and acts up."

   Panic started chuckling, and it ended up as laughter that trailed off.

   "What's so funny?"

   "You just described my parent's relationship in a goddamn nutshell. Question. What happens when two betas hook up and get hitched."

   "Fairly quiet relationship. Each one is trying to please the other. The more one does for the other? The guiltier the other feels and tries even harder to please them even more. They do nice things for each other, without being asked. This is the husband that surprises his wife with a trip to the furniture store, then eggs her on to have all her friends over to gawk. She smiles and blushes, and admits to all her friends how wonderful her man treats her. This is the woman that shoves her man out the door some weekends, and tells him to go fishing and drink some beer and just have some fun."

   "Wow. That sounds nice. Very nice."

   "And it is. The man tries to help with some of the cooking. The wife sweetly has to shoo him out of the kitchen. The wife puts on old clothes, and helps him cleaning up the yard and the garage. They tend to raise quiet, polite children. You? Are sounding like you like this idea."

   Panic sighed.

   "This? Is what I found in a lot of other households. No screaming. No yelling. No arguing. Put your feet up on the coffee table and enjoy yourself."

   "And, a few alpha male led households, with a quiet and compliant wife. A few quiet men with strong, willful alpha females that they learned early on to use the phrase yes dear."

   "Yeah…"

   "What you saw when you were young? Was the natural statistical distribution of personality types bumping into each other, and choosing mates."

   "Do you have to science it all up?"

   "Simple math, honey. Nothing fancy. The human animal? Is a pack of social primate mammals. A few alphas, and a lot of betas. Of course betas ended up together. They don't butt heads, they just go along with each other. It was the most statistically popular pair bonding all across America, for the longest time. We didn't have a need for all these relationship therapists across the nation back then. These people populated small towns across America."

   "Where the hell did we go wrong?"

   "You tell me. After world war two, the changes start creeping in. Now? We're fucked."

   "Why wouldn't the betas be happy with their betas…"

   "Feminism, is a major influence. It's really taken hold. Most women are natural betas, and there's very few natural alpha females. Betas do what betas do. They listen to ideas and they follow trends. The males aren't helping any, either. Not that it's their fault, society is doing it."

   "How?"

   "How to be a man, how to succeed. How to take what you want. What was once just advice at the bar from Mr. Big? Has turned into giant moneymaking machines. Seminars. Books. Websites. You can take anyone, and show them the natural alpha beta dynamic? Ask them which one they prefer…"

   "They think it's what they want."

   "You let it go on too long? You get a hot fucking mess, is what you end up with. Natural betas are most of the herd. You got guys trying to imitate alphas, just to get laid. The pickup artist stuff. How to fool women into falling for you, and how to throw them away and go get another. You got women, all trying to act like alphas. You got society's new rules and feminism providing them the tools to grab that power and wield it. We've made small towns un-livable, and driven up the price of good zip codes, un-affordable for all but the winners… consumerism and the myth of the power couple? We're fucked."

   "Oh. Glad it's not as bad as I thought."

   "Yeah. Now every girl in America? Thinks she somehow deserves a guy, that's rich, handsome, muscular, and has a big chin and stands at least 6'4"… and guess what? There's not that many alphas to go around. And not all the alphas even look like that."

   "Oh, and don't forget now… there's no such thing as a weaker sex. Get a career. Date longer. Have fun."

   "Now. Here's where it gets fascinating. You have two major pushes, colliding. I want you to imagine Niagara falls, and Niagara falls? Slamming into each other. You ready?"

   "Baited breath."

   "You have this huge push, of the liberal agenda. Everyone be nice. Everyone be sweet. Everyone be concerned with everyone elses feelings. Don't say or do anything to be mean."

   "Everyone has to act like a perfect little beta."

   "Yeah. Now look at the other influence. Everyone? Take charge of your life. Women? Have a career. Do whatever you want. Take charge of your man, and here's a helpful article outlining how to make him do what you want. When he won't get with your program? Fuck it, it was a starter marriage anyways. Here's how to get a divorce, and here's a cell phone so you can fuck anything that moves."

   Panic laughed.

   "Men? A good husband does anything the wife tells him. He never says boo. But? Surprise! Here's a bunch of courses on how to pretend you're a big shot, and get what you want out of life and career. Like I said. It's a big, hot mess. Getting bigger, hotter, messier. The men are expected to be alpha studs at work, and come home and act like a beta bitch, all night and every weekend. It's a recipe for complete disaster."

   "People try to fight back, but… they can't get any traction."

   "Like what?"

   "The tiny house movement. Small, cheap, they fit anywhere."

   "It's a good idea. What's the problem?"

   "Where do you stick your brand new, tiny, cheap house at? Basically, it's just a trend. You have to already have a regular house, to be allowed to stick one in the backyard, instead of a garage or shed. Defeats the whole purpose. Places where you're allowed to do that? There's no work. It's fine for an author or a painter. Homesteading is another one."

   "I like the homesteading websites. I see women acting like women. I see men acting like men."

   "You need land. You have to already be successful, for the most part. And once again, where it's available to do it? Not much work. Now… if you have money, and you want to retire early? Great. But for the average young couple? Not gonna happen."

   "I liked the trad movement. The traditional women's movement. Women, dressing like women, showing the traditional joy from baking and cooking from scratch for your husband and kids. The simply joys that most women don't mind, of staying at home and actually teaching the kids how not to act like retards when they're older."

   "The feminists came down on them, like a ton of bricks, science girl. And once again? Your husband has to have a really great career, to allow you to do that. And by the way… a lot of those trad women? Have been internet busted."

   "What do you mean…"

   Panic laughed.

   "Busted. You go and check up, and find them, and investigate the trad woman and her internet course? It's mostly bullshit. You know what you typically find at the end of the rainbow, when you get there?"

   "Fuck me, I'm afraid to ask…"

   "It's a money making website. She gets her hair done like that, and wears that old time-y dress for her camera man she hired. Someone like JG, who had a degree in audio and video work. It's just an act… her and her husband go out to an expensive dinner five nights a week, off of her website income. Most of the internet stars? Go through a lot of trouble to appear like they're just someone with a 20 dollar desk camera, by jiminy. They're not. It's a home version of a TV show, in miniature. It makes money."

   "Homesteading and tiny homes are bullshit?"

   "Basically. Filming the homestead life and the tiny home life? Is the real career. If you don't believe me? I can prove it to you."

   "No, I believe you. It makes sense, actually. The RV living movement? Same thing."

   "Definitely. First off, what's a decent RV cost. I mean a 40 footer, no holes anywhere, not rusted apart, and the engine and drive-train and the entire electrical and all the stuff in it, just works fine."

   "Afraid to ask…"

   "Getting on 100 grand minimum, new. Used? Figure 60. You want a fixer upper? It's an odd duck to work on, and everything you touch? Is a specialty item. No… this is a couple with no kids or the kids are grown and out on their own. They own their own successful business, or once again? Rich enough to retire early. Let's say it was all real though… you need to park and hook up somewhere."

   "Shit. What about the log cabin people?"

   "Oh. First off, the land isn't cheap. Second off? To really get away, there's no work. A successful hunting guide, who specializes in taking rich people on guided hunts, is about all there is in the way of the real deal. And you better be really good at it. Because reputation is everything. You have so much as one unhappy CEO, who didn't get a trophy head on his office wall to show off how manly he is? The other CEOs go to the next guy. It's gotten really competitive."

   "But… I see log cabins, in the middle of nowhere… priced really affordably."

   "No. They exist. The fine print, though. You're buying a lease. You don't own it. The closer the lease comes to expiring? The more the price drops. Then, you have to renew your lease with the state game-lands. It's not cheap. The state game-lands can't wait to kick you out of your expired lease big log cabin. It becomes another free ranger station. Something to rent out for hikers with money. Or? Some big company leases it, as a perk for the executives to use. They got you coming and going on that one, hun. Believe me, I've looked into all the angles on stuff like this."

   "Christ. It's worse than I even thought it was. What happened, to going out into the middle of nowhere, and building a cabin. I thought if you lived there for 7 years, it became yours."

   Panic erupted into laughter.

   "Oh. Free satellite images on the internet, honey. Every small town code enforcement guy? Just looks at his town on satellite. Specialized software, alerts you to any changes, picture to picture. Uh oh, some guy had the balls to build a shed, without an inspection and a permit. Alert the local gestapo."

   "But, out in the middle of the woods? In the mountains…"

   "You can't hide from satellites. The same software? Automatically alerts you to any opening in the trees. Any change in the landscape. You can't build a 10 by 20 cabin, without a helicopter coming out, and the rangers are all armed with M-16's… honey, you can't stay in one place too long like that with so much as a tent, they don't come checking up on you."

   "Wow."

   "Yeah Merry. You can't just let poor people off the plantation, to try to build a cabin out of trees, and see if they can live off the land. Some of them would make it, and show all the other poor people, the great deal they found. Free housing, no taxes, free food? Pffft. The men with the guns? Don't allow poor people to live anywhere else, but in the worst part of the city, or in the poorest parts of the poorest towns. The poor person is required to work for business owners, and be a source of cheap slave labor. You don't like it? Get rich or fuck off."

   "You looked into… getting away before. After you came back to the real world… didn't you."

   "Oh, hell yeah. Remember Mister Crabby?"

   Merry smiled.

   "Yeah…"

   "He was about the only game in town. And even that, isn't free. If I wanted to do it permanently? I'd probably do scuba diving lessons and tours, maybe try to organize some kind of barnacle cleaning service. You want your basic options, to getting away from it all?"

   "Step one. Be financially independent and successful already. Then, you can play at roughing it, if it's your rich guy's hobby."

   "Step two?"

   "See step one."

   "Really…"

   "You can be homeless. Either a criminal, or just eat out of garbage bins and beg. You can do the backpack thing, but… you're carrying everything you own? On your back. And sooner or later, you will get caught."

   "How? Backpacking is legal."

   "Fishing, hunting, trapping laws. You can kill a game animal in the middle of the woods, sure. But… you get tracked, from kill to kill. You're on foot, and they're in helicopters. You can bury the carcass, but, you still need to make a fire and take a couple days to make jerky. The fire can be smelled and seen for miles around. And the rangers? Know what a carcass burial site looks like. One poke with a stick? State laws broken. We have a manhunt, for a felon now. He dared to kill and eat one of the king's royal herd, out of season, and without the proper permits and endorsements."

   "How do you not hate rich people, hate the government, hate the human race? You talk like you… actually like it all."

   "I don't hate rich people, I told you this before. I don't care how greedy people are, as long as they aren't slaughtering innocent villagers to get what they want. I don't hate my government, I actually love my country. I feel sorry for where it's headed, but, I like what it used to be, and what it once was. And the human race? The people in this world, most of them… it's not their fault. I don't hate everything and everyone. I pity them. It's a big difference."

   "What was your… plan… before hurricane Merry blew into your life."

   "Small town. Small job. Small life. My retirement? Goes into a nest egg. Building up. I made enough to get by, without dipping in. My life was my hobbies, and I worked the minimum to get by. When I decide I've had enough? I cash in, and go somewhere."

   "Mr. Crabby. The log cabin lease. Whatever."

   "Bingo."

   "Why haven't you gone already?"

   "No need. I found that working a mindless job a couple days a week, to keep the electric and the internet on? Got me by. To do what I want on my days off, which is my real passion. The longer I wait while I'm reasonably happy anyways? The bigger and better my retirement is."

   "And you keep it all a secret. You're plan was to just disappear one day, and that was that."

   "Yeah."

   "You have any regrets?"

   "Who doesn't. If I had it all to do over again, knowing what I know now… would I have done anything different? Probably."

   "What would you do different, knowing."

   "Hmm. I don't think I would have gone full tilt hog wild on the whole tough guy thing, like I did. It was more than I needed. Honestly? I'd still have done the Air Force thing, but just stayed in longer. I'd of had my retirement at 37. Which is half pay and full benefits for life. I'd still have gotten my cheap house and little job, and had fun with my hobbies. You know. Just enough. Reasonable."

   "If you could go back and be another person, another personality type? Which one would you pick."

   "I'm sure you think I'd choose to be a big alpha, someone like little Robbie."

   "Most men would."

   "Prepare to be surprised. I die tomorrow, and I get up there, and St. peter takes me aside. Hey, Panic. We… have a teensy problem. There's been a big mistake, and you weren't supposed to die. So, we have to send you back again. Sorry for the inconvenience. To make this up to you? You get to pick, what you want to be. President, famous actor, big rock star… which one you want. Name it."

   "What would you pick, knowing."

   Panic sat there quietly a few seconds. Merry was intrigued, and watched. He looked like he wanted to cry, but somehow couldn't. He was trying to posture his face, and show the emotion he was feeling… and it wasn't working right. He hadn't studied making masks like Merry had, so he had difficulty with a brand new one. The effect was bizarre.

   "I'd make damn sure whatever makes me different? Wasn't there. I don't hate myself, I love myself just fine, but… life would have been a hell of a lot easier without it, trust me. Take this gift, this curse, whatever it is? Back."

   "I could understand that. What personality type. What traits…"

   "Same as I was born. An intellectual. I liked that part just fine."

   "And personality type…"

   They were laying on the bed, with shoulders propped up on the extra pillows. Talking like kids talked when they sat in a field of grass and watched the clouds.

   "I'd ask to be like George. To be like… those quiet, smiling households I would see when I went over to someone elses house. George was a chemist? Not my bag. Computer programmer. But the same deal. Quiet, smiling faces. No confusion, happy to come home every night. Happy to just have family every weekend. Somehow happy and fulfilled, to do some gardening with the wife. Like that."

   "Wow. I wouldn't have guessed that."

   "Yeah. Remember the motto? Lead, follow… or get the hell out of the way."

   "Yeah."

   "I've followed. I've led. Now I can't wait to just get the hell out of the way."

   They were both surprised, when they noticed that the lights were back on. Just for an instant, the lights came on a little too bright, and winked back off. They flickered a few times, another slight pause… then the power was back on. A few small dim and back cycles, then it evened out.

   Neither one of them jumped for joy. Panic just laced his fingers behind his head.

   "Powers back on."

   "Yeah. Whoop dee doo."

   "You were getting used to this little break we were taking, huh?"

   "Hell yeah. It gave us the room to ourselves, it gave us days off."

   "You wanna do anything special, now that the power's back on?"

   "Like what."

   "I don't know. We wait an hour? The hot tub will be hot and ready to go again. It was running when we got there, and it's not like we unplugged anything when we left."

   "Why not. I guess in an hour, we can take a hot shower, too."

   "Sure can. We can wash our clothes in the washer, dry our clothes in the dryer."

   Merry shrugged laying down.

   "That's all fine, but… now the room's gonna become the community shower room again."

   "They got another motel room for that, next town over. Where the power didn't go out, right?"

   "Yeah."

   "They'll figure it out eventually, I'm sure. But I'm not calling to tell them. You?"

   Merry laughed.

   "No. What do you wanna do first. Hot tub? Or wash clothes the easy way."

   "Hot tub."

   "We shouldn't run the clothes through the washer first, and pop them in the dryer… then go do the hot tub?"

   "We could, but there's going to be a line of people going to the washers and dryers all at once. Same thing with the hot shower. The whole motel is going to try to take a hot bath the instant the hot water comes out the sink even slightly warm."

   "Hmm. You're right. Why wait in line for hours to use the washers and dryers, when we could be relaxing in the hot tub."

   "Couple hours? Then we get the clothes washed and into the dryer. Then we can come back and take a hot bath."

   They both just remained laying there. The air conditioner had woken up, and realized it had work to do. The chilled air fell and washed over them, with the window still open.

   "Merry. You wanna watch TV? It works now, too."

   "Nah. Shouldn't we either shut the window, or turn the AC off?"

   "I'm not paying the electric bill. And remember… Mike paid for electric as part of the room bill, and he missed out on a couple days electric. They owe us."

   Merry laughed at this rationalization.

   "Are… you in any rush to get to the hot tub?"

   "Not really, Merry. Are you?"

   "No. I'm kinda enjoying just… laying here."

   "Me too. It's… nice."

   "It is. So, this is what a home life is, I guess. Huh."

   "What, you're bored?"

   "Not really. I guess this is what people… do, then."

   "Yes. Sometimes? People just lay there."

   "This must be what George and his wife do sometimes. And they enjoy it. Just… being together."

   Panic rolled over, and smelled her neck.

   "Sorry. Just needed a fix. If I fall asleep? Promise to wake me up for hot tub time. I plan on another nap there, too."

   Merry more or less just laid there. She wasn't as sleepy as Panic was, but she wasn't raring to go anywhere, either. She idly wagged her feet in and out while slowly rolling her legs a little bit. Much like a little kid might do, and for no real reason. She eventually heard and felt words on her shoulder.

   "Why is the bed shaking…"

   "I don't know. I'm wiggling my feet."

   "I was actually falling asleep, then it was like the whole bed was shaking. That explains it then, you have ants in your pants. Thought it was an earthquake."

   "You don't usually complain when I shake the bed, you know."

   "I wasn't complaining. I was just curious what was going on. I thought it was an earthquake. But it's not. So? Have fun."

   Merry was quiet for a little while.

   "Were you making fun of my big feet?"

   "No. Never. I was just terrified it was an earthquake. I'm glad it was nothing serious, turns out it was just your big feet."

   Merry called him a smart ass, but giggled.

   "That's a good way to get in trouble."

   "Idle threat. You're all out of Popsicle's."

   "Yeah? Well… maybe I'll go buy a big one. And take it down in the hot tub room, and lock the door. What do you have to say about that, mister."

   "Another idle threat."

   "How. You already know what I can do with a Popsicle."

   "Like I said. Idle threat. Actually slightly over 100 degree water? Piece of ice. You're terrorist sized Popsicle? Won't last ten seconds in the hot water."

   Merry just giggled, and ended up taking a sort of half nap laying beside him. Later on when they were up and made for the hot tub which would by now be hot and waiting for them, they barely remembered to close the window. On the walk down, Panic quipped to Merry…

   "Honey?"

   "Yes."

   "You should get a lot of relaxing and naps in while you can. After we get done waiting on the tagging part of this case, and this crew moves out? We're gonna be chasing these assholes all up and down the east coast, in cars and vans. Sleeping in a moving vehicle is an art form to begin with, and doing it with passengers around is harder."

   "Are you and JG sure about the dots on the screen work in real time like they should? Because Mike said the GPS screen things are not accurate, when he used them. That was just a couple years ago."

   "Me and JG each drove two cars, and I pulled over and waited a while, then I went and found him. He was to be holed up at some random gas station, store parking lot, anything. I drove right up to a shopping store area, and he was behind the dumpsters behind one of the buildings. I picked my exit to get off and go looking based on the dots on the screen. Took me right to him."

   "Uncle Mike said it's been a couple years since he declared the dot's location on the map a suggestion of the general area, not a specific location."

   "It worked for us. Early in the crew's travels, when they set out? There's a mobile tagging going on. They need a fly by to pick up the cell phone numbers. You have to get a fly by when that vehicle is a little isolated. Then, we go back to dots on the map. You were there when we talked about this in front of you."

   "Someone has to get close when they're alone, then we can fall back and follow. Record any stopping on the dot spots. I remember."

   After a couple days went by, it became apparent that Uncle Mike was going to continue to offer the second motel room to them for their continued amusement. There was a fiasco during this time. The FEMA trailer that Mike had ordered purchased showed up unexpectedly. The nearest anyone could figure, was that Mike had lost his presence of mind when up late one night doing paperwork. He had errantly sent out paperwork with his own location as the delivery point for the FEMA auction trailer.

   Everyone was sitting around playing cards and drinking beer. A loud radio mounted inside a big pickup truck with aggressive rock and roll was hauling a large house trailer behind it. Mike looked at the address and scratched his head. The poor delivery guy had several FBI agents out and around him, all in shoulder straps and guns. The fact that they had craft beers in their hands didn't do anything to make the poor delivery guy happy until Uncle Mike scratched his head and okay-ed the interruption.

   It took several days for the FEMA trailer to be, at this point somewhat ceremoniously, sent off to it's correct home. Somewhat naturally, Panic obtained permission that Mike thought was silly to ask for, in that Panic wanted to work on the trailer. Go through it and see what needed any attention in the way of fixing. It had to be something. Merry accompanied him most of the time, and she spent time at the trailer with him and no one questioned it.

   Mike was positively thrilled to finally get word his favorite locksmith was available and being assigned.