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a paranormal journey Part 4 of 5

April 13, 2015 12:12AM
Jane and Elizabeth "are quite pleased with the automatic likenesses
taken of themselves." They want to know more about digital

The Pass and I.D. staff performed another function, in addition to
making the cards for Jane and Elizabeth. They provided raw data for
the British Consul, so they can make the ladies' passports. A copy
has went to State, so the visa application will go smooth.


"Well. Ladies. You have had a long, busy day." Darcy soothe when the four of us quit the Pass and I.D. office.

The girls smile, and Elizabeth supplant; "you have said it well. - Were you going to call your Aunt, and let her know?"

"You are quite right! Thank you for reminding me." Then he divert himself to do so. He let her know that all we have left is to simply drive to their ranchette.

Darcy and I exchange keys again, so we are back to our own vehicles. I pass him his leather and his gear. The girls decide to change places, so Jane sit in my car's right bucket seat as Elizabeth choose to ride in back. He has to make a short stop at his apartment for something he did not specify, so he encourage us to go on to our aunt and uncle's place. He should not be more than a half an hour behind us.

I drive out the near gate, east on Fifth, then past Alabama Street. It is quite dark when I drive south on Orange Street, especially when going over the Santa Ana River wash. Then I meander through Redlands to an address just off San Timoteo Canyon Road, where the places are five acre ranchettes with big houses.

Jane ask as I turn into their driveway; "Sir. What are yours and Mr. Darcy's relationships to these people?"

"Well. Aunt Barbara is our mothers' eldest sister-in-law and Uncle Dan Carson is our common uncle."

"Curious how you two found your relations." Elizabeth said when she lean forward.

"It probably isn't so much a matter of finding our relation. We were simply born into that relationship. It's probably more remarkable that we are in the same service together, the same profession, the same Unit, and even the same crew!"


I drive my Hawk up to the white rail fence, and stop beside a line through the front gate. The breeze has a chill when I get out, so I close the door before it bite Jane or Elizabeth. At first, I intended to come back outside to fetch Darcy's and my luggage, but I also open the trunk to fetch a couple blankets. Then I open the passenger door and wrap Jane as I help her out. I wrap Elizabeth too, when she step out. Fortunately, for a two-door coupe, these Hawks are easier to get in and out of the back seat than through the back doors of most modern four-door sedans. We walk quickly toward the front door.


"Come on in! Folks. It's cozy in here and real chilly out there!" Aunt Barbara coax as she stand by the open door. She had seen my car's lights on our approach.

I close the door behind us before I introduce; "may I present Miss Jane Bennet, and her sister Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

"Oh, you two girls are very pretty!"

"My dear ladies, this is Darcy's and my Aunt Barbara. Where's Uncle Dan?"

"You remember me sayin'? Oh, no. You probably couldn't. I was talking to Billy-boy when I told him that he had plans on watching one, maybe two movies, and-" She hold for suspense.

I'll bite; "`and?' What?"

"He fell asleep half-way through the first one." She laugh hearty as she deliver the punch line. "So, if I may ask: How're you kids matched up?"


"So. Hiram. Which one of these dear ladies has her cap set on you?" Strange use of terminology, but she has read Jane Austen in her youth.

I think; both and neither; but decide directness better for them. "William and I are their guardians. And, they're not very comfortable with 20th Century stuff."

"`Guardians?' I don't understand! Well. - I understand guardianship, but why?"

"Well. If we wake Uncle Dan, I tell you both on one ticket. Actually, I should wait until Darcy get here too."

"We can do both." Aunt assure. "Sayyy. Do you girls have any luggage?"

Elizabeth reply: "Oh, no. Ma'am." The way the English pronounce the word, it come out sounding like "mahm," but Aunt Barbara know because she too, watch British television. "We do not, and we do not comprehend what happened to us."

"Speaking of luggage;" I interject; "I'll leave you ladies so I can fetch ours out of the trunk."

"Okay, Hiram. It'll give me a chance to get to know these dear ladies a little better."

I sigh. One trip should do. If we couldn't put something into a B-4 bag, we can do without it for the three-to-five day missions. It is easier to carry a bilateral, heavy load, than one medium load. I close the door, but am careful to not let the door latch catch, so I can push it open on the way back in.


"So, my dears. What do you say to first? Let's get you some rooms so you can start getting settled."

"Actually, Ma'am. Perhaps if we may sleep in one bed chamber until-" Elizabeth's language failed, but her request seem to fit what Aunt Barbara can conclude.

"Okay, but please. Call me `Barbara,' or `Aunt Barbara,' since you're so important to my nephews."

Jane volunteer at her pause; "Barbara. It would not be proper for us to call you `Aunt' until one of us marry into your family."

"Oh, yes. You're quite right there, my dear. I just naturally assumed their Guardianship of you would be close enough."

"Oh! Pray forgive us." Elizabeth concur with Jane, but can see their hostess get downcast. Your nephews are gentlemanlike men, but we are so discomposed by our circumstance that we fear it folly to become so attached as may be now. Perhaps, - perhaps later?"

"I understand. No. Not really, - but we got a big guest room with twin beds and its own bath. Or - I could put you into the boys' room, the one with bunk beds that they used when they were boys. No. That won't do either. They've kinda grown out of that, but I'll have to show it to you any ways." She clutch the girls' arms to lead them back to the hallway. "Come, my dears. You must be worn out from all the stress."

"We are indeed. You are so good." Elizabeth smile.


A little while later, I have stowed Darcy's and my bags into our childhood bunk room, and go raid the refrigerator. "Raid" was not the right word, because nothing seemed "Munchie-ready:" That mean, "finger food." Everything is in jars, tubs, or covered with foil or plastic wrap, which help me decide I am not really that hungry.

I wander back down the hallway and hear Aunt Barbara giving the girls a briefing on modern, fixed, domestic facilities. She was quite surprised to hear confirmation that England had went backward during the Dark Ages, because, did not the Roman Empire bring hot and cold running water to its territories? Was not that one of the attractions of Bath, Somersetshire, England? I take a break.

She assure; "if it all don't come back to you when you're ready, I should help you. - Now, let's go pester my Dan."

"Uh, could we have a few minutes to - gather ourselves?"

"Oh! Sure. I just heard Hiram come back in, so we'll be out in the living room, most likely." Then she quit the room and draw the door closed so they may feel more comfortable.

The 19th century sisters marvel at the electric lights, at how responsive they come on and switch off. Then they use the comfort facility while the how-to is still fresh in their minds. Good thing the white throne fill the tank and then shut off. It is an annoying defect when the water run through the overflow pipe. They decide they can ask about other sleeping arrangements when the time come, and that they are most curious about the family's Friday night entertainment.

Aunt Barbara unburied some clothes and robes for our guests so they could have some comfort and run their gowns through the washing machine's "Knits and Delicates" cycle. Surely the hand stitching, as was done before Singer, White, Howe, and as many other names started various attempts at making treadle powered sewing machines, might not endure the other washing machine cycles.

Uncle Dan, snoozing in his easy chair, gave me the notion to do likewise in one of the other recliners in the living room. I stop the player, dismount and put the disk back in the box, so I let the player system go into hibernation. As a result, I lay back and expected to be awakened upon anything important.

Therefore, I missed the arrival of my niece, Vivien Gale Hartline, daughter of my sister and her husband, who come to visit. She did not have the heart to wake me, so she come across her great Aunt Barbara and the two guests who came a long way quickly through a long time, and formed their society. Vivien's great interest in fashion and history get a chance for a living lesson and experience of great value.

I also missed Darcy's return. He come in, see myself and our uncle napping, and deem that notion a good idea, so he commandeer another overstuff chair with ottoman.

Of course, when the laundry is done, Vivien, Elizabeth, Jane, and Aunt Barbara come upstairs to have more conversation. Jane and Elizabeth confirm the similarity, even though the movement is reversed, of the men joining the women after the port.


We can fake it no longer. Actually, the hubbub wake us. The question is now; how to entertain our guests? Jane and Elizabeth are surprised that a house of the Carson's standard does not have a pianoforte. Never mind that the "forte" suffix got dropped a long time ago. They can accept that the living room is as a parlor for society and entertainment, the furniture seem to have the same apparent purpose, but the large black panel at the otherwise bare wall arouse their curiosity.

"As you ladies were, you used musical performance and readings as social entertainment." I speculate when I seem to have the floor.

"Yes, Major West." Elizabeth notice that I changed into some leisure wear during the meanwhile, but she is accustomed to military men retaining their rank while wearing civilian clothing. ([As shown by Col. Brandon in [S&S] and Col. Fitzwilliam in [P&P] adaptions, but I cannot recall another of Jane Austen's military members so practiced. -r.e.h.]_

"Please, feel free to call me - `Hiram.' It is my name." Then we go around announcing our first names, so that the Bennet sisters can feel freer to be at home.

After the go-arounds, Uncle Dan ask us; "well, boys. What should we show the girls- ehr: Young ladies?"

Darcy was still pondering, so I am quick to suggest; "we could show them something between the time they're from and of the present. Yes. I think Calamity Jane would do. It show coaches and horses, and - it is a nice musical."

My suggestion was canvassed and adopted. The western coach is coarse when compared to the fine English coachwork, but horses have not changed much. Perhaps the English stock is finer where the American teams may show more feral lines from the Mustangs.

I go to the rack, extract the DVD case, push the [Eject] button on the remote control, so the player and the screen activate. The sudden light, activity, and image stun the Bennet sisters, but not for long. After seeing so much that work without their understanding, they now sit and wait with the rest of the party to see what is to come next.

Then the disk tray come forward, like a servant presenting the contents of a salver, so I place the DVD on it, but they miss seeing me press the [Eject] button again, which retract the disk and begin mounting. Then the menu program load. The first parts are minimum to DVDs of old movies and well behaved productions of series. When the Main Menu come up, the sisters marvel at the music, so I ignore the "Language" options and delay a few moments before I press on the [Play Movie] option. The music will start from the beginning, as the movie begin.

The theme music seem a modified or orchestrated "The Deadwood Stage." The video show a stage coach going from left to right of the view. It is drawn by the usual Western team made of three pairs of horses. More horsepower as was needed to stay ahead of unfriendlies, of which post coaches in England were usually spared that harassment.

Elizabeth is forced to remark; "a coach and six! - Oh! Pray, forgive me."

"You're forgiven, dear." Aunt Barbara soothe; "no problem. If you want to see something again, we can go back."

"Oh, then let us continue."

And from then on, the Bennet sisters get to listen to some lively music, watch transportation in a familiar manner, then later in the story, see something new to them. Then they see a train as one take Calamity to "Chicagy," and then see the latter 19th century in old northwest American glory. The ladies "strut their stuff" with their bustles on the Chicago sidewalks, and it strike the Bennet sisters as most entertaining and amusing. However, I do not know if that was evoked or augmented by "Calamity Jane" also being gobsmacked by their ensembles and skirt action.

After 101 minutes of musical movie, the story has its happy ending with two married couples as if they were made for each other. It could not have been long for Calamity, because the historical Wild Bill Hickok was back-shot by McCall on or about 2 August 1876, at a poker table. That was when Hickok held the famous two black aces and the two black eights, that became widely known as the "dead man's hand." Of course, no need to bring up that bit of depressing real history.

In spite of the early evening hour and all the potential marvels, the sisters begin to fatigue. Elizabeth still have some wanderlust for what may be seen by these books that show moving pictures. I suggest that if we do not have a story on disk, one might be checked out of the library. Between Darcy, Aunt and Uncle Carson, and myself, we have an extensive movie library covering time periods from The Ten Commandments, where Cecil B. de Mille photographed that movie where a lot of the story happened, to speculation centuries in the future we do not know.

"I am wild to see something else! Oh! Before I retire for the night."

Jane endorse; "and so am I."

"Then I suggest something fairly short. Movies tend to start at an hour and a half long and get longer, while episodes of many shows run between a half hour to a short-hour long."

"Ah, I fancy I am able to witness about a half an hour." Elizabeth coo, and get a nodding endorsement from Jane.

Uncle Dan suggest; "then why don't you do like we do?" He get her attention, so he add; "when we don't know what we want to watch, just scan through the boxes, the narration may suggest something for you."

"Ah. I comprehend." Then Elizabeth rise, go over to the rack, and start leafing through the DVD cases. She extract a few to read the back cover notes, and finally choose; "a widow - beautiful daughters-" then she address Jane; "here, Jane. Mother is always so vexed about being widowed with daughters, and here is a story along that line;" she present a Petticoat Junction DVD case for her sister.

"Yes, Lizzy, that may be instructive." Jane muse.

Elizabeth bring me the case and observe as I mount the disk. She pay particular attention to the procedure, as if she plan to select, play, and put away programs of her choosing at her leisure. I intend to start playing the pilot episode, "Spur Line to Shady Rest, but letting Linda Kaye Henning's introduction lead from closer to our here-and-now, may be most opportune. We mosey back to our seating.

Between Linda's narration and the opening credit beginning, with the theme song over the arriving little train, I submit; "you came about fifty years too far forward." I fail to suppress a sniffle of severe nostalgia about a better time and place.

Jane remark about the difference between the color of Calamity Jane versus the black and white of the old television series's production. Then a few seconds later, appear the water tower, which is adorned by three matching dresses draped over a handrail and three petticoats hanging from the top edge of the tank's staves.

"Oh! My! Are they-?" Elizabeth know I can complete her interrogation.

I fail to suppress that grin, but I assure; "no. But that is what may be believed. - Watch." A few later episodes show the Bradley girls wearing swimming suits in the tower, but to ladies from the Regency era, that may be as shocking as skinny-dipping, as if Vivien's cheerleading uniform failed to shock their sense of decorum and decency.

Of course, when the three Bradley sisters project their heads above the rim, simper, and then snag their petticoats back down with them, my credibility just went down the water tank's spigot. I do not know if I was spared by the next scene, where "Kate" come out of the hotel, snap "Uncle Joe's" galus strap, and then descend to the front walk, but it diverted attention from that possible fault. Fortunately or not, the "produced by" frames show the girls descending the embankment, fully dressed, and no other garments on the water tower.
Then the three girls come single file on the front walk toward the hotel. Kate Bradley, the girls' widowed mother wear the dark, long-sleeved dress with a white lace collar, as from the opening credits. She stand in front of the porch's left pillar and the late morning's sun cast her shadow upon it. Now the blonde is in the lead, which indicate that she chose to overtake her two sisters, including the youngest and the fastest runner.

"Mom. Train's coming!" The eldest and voluptuous blonde Willimena Josephine "Billie Jo" Bradley announce, as if leading the run is a rare occurrence, and slow to a stop.

Kate endorse: "Yeah. I heard it." The two younger girls close, so she continue from her observation of wet hair strands; "swimming in the water tower again, weren't you?" She touch Betty Jo's cheek.

Elizabeth Josephine "Betty Jo" is on the spot. "Yes." She admit. She is the youngest of the three, and is pretty by average anthropometrics and pleasant features, but not with any remarkable attribute.

Kate turn her brunette daughter, the one in the middle by age and position, part-way around to help her with a final zip of her sundress. She continue to warn: "Someday, that train's going to sneak in, - drain out all the water before you can get out," she move to Billie Jo and flip her hair; "and leave you high, - dry, - and BARE!"

Roberta Josephine "Bobbie Jo" complain, flashing her stunning dark eyes, which highlight her alabaster skin with a healthy blush from the swim; "gee, Mom. It's hot!"

([From my episode notes. -r.e.h.]_ Jane and Elizabeth know that skinny-dipping was treated as definite and decent as possible. We get the weather report for them, there, at that time. The events of the plot, the pratfalls, and the punch lines amuse our friends who are 200 years out of their time.

Their original idea of retiring for the night after the one episode a half hour long, go by the wayside, because their giggling invigorate them. Linda Henning has another episode introduction that hook their interest again.

The series' creator's daughter start the fifth episode with an introduction that is clearly not an extension of the pilot. I press the [Stop] button on the remote control to begin our party's retirement for the night. Vivien offer to assist Jane and Elizabeth's bedtime ritual with the practically unfamiliar amenities, in spite of previous briefings.

I may not be the last to switch off lights in Darcy's and my bunk room. However, I intend to turn out relatively early in the morning. Darcy and I considered going to our apartments, but he was right about better meeting our custodial responsibilities by bunking into our childhood bedroom. So we did. Sometimes, it is best to deal with tomorrow after sunrise.


After breakfast, I went back to my apartment on Saturday to check my e-mail and "snail mail," but I did not go alone. Vivien sold the Bennet sisters on coming with me so they could see something else during daylight and maybe before the smog settle in. I chose to let them sort out who sit where, so I will play chauffeur enough to open the doors.

When the sisters comprehend that I live in an apartment, they wonder about the propriety of being within the quarters of a man who is not related to them. Vivien soothe; "it's alright. I'm his niece and there's enough of us to clobber him if he gets too frisky. - Although I've told him he needs a wife." She simper.

"Oh?" Elizabeth idle with a wink.

"She has." I affirm as I pet the spider that eat my snail-mail except for the bills. The box contain nothing, so next I extract my key and then open the door.

Vivien is ready to lead Jane and Elizabeth in, after I stand back to gesture an invitation. She coo; "thanks, Uncle;" then the sisters follow her into the living room. They look about my apartment with some chagrin about being within a man's domain, but take some comfort in its similar amenities as they are starting to be accustomed in the Carson home, and absorbing some of Vivien's familiarity. She test; "say, Uncle Hiram. Can we borrow your bow and arrows? Aunt Barbara says we can use Uncle Dan's range."

"You know where they are." I answer and make way for my den to use that computer to check my e-mail. If it were not for SPAM, then I would wonder if the POP and SMTP servers are working, but am assured when I send some of the waste to: spam@uce.gov ([I do not know what good come for sending it, but it does relieve my spleen. -r.e.h.]_

Vivien lead Jane and Elizabeth into my bedroom and they stifle their gasp at her brazen entry into my bed chamber, and then she slide the closet door open. They cannot avoid seeing my suit, other uniforms, and other clothing hanging on the rail. Then she parse some hangars away from the end so she can get to the bow and the quiver of arrows, with the shooting tab and wrist guard connected to the shoulder strap. They are familiar with the English longbow and accessories readily available during their time, but the rigging of the compound bow take them aback. However, only for a short time. They are becoming too familiar with the concept of seeing wonders and exploring them at their leisure.

The kitchenette is my next stop. My freezer compartment has been an overflow for Darcy's hunting prowess, so our guests make a good excuse to take something to help make for a meal. It will have to be on Sunday, because that part of a quarter is froze solid, even though it has been "pre-sliced." I select a few other foodstuffs that may be useful.

Vivien has Jane and Elizabeth packing my bow and its quiver full of arrows out about the time I get my contribution to our dinner set and ready to go out to the trunk of my Hawk. I send her leading out with a sack full as I grab the large piece and then follow them out, and still secure my door before we go.

My niece is right to suggest going back by a different way so our visitors can see a different prospect. One view that she may not have planned is the stop at a gas station. Not much to see, but they marvel at the other vehicles coming to a stop at a hydrant, the drivers wrestling with hoses and nozzles as they do self-serve. Hard to avoid what some women wear, or do not wear, and now the Bennet sisters begin to appreciate Vivien's relative modesty.

A few minutes later, I drive us north on Waterman Canyon road to Crestline, and then east on the old, narrow road to Blue Jay. Our guests marvel at the mixture of nature and edifice along the way, and then Lake Arrowhead at our left. It is not shaped like an arrow head, but it needed a name. I turn south at the fork and go to the Rim of the World Drive, where going east again leave us high enough to look southwest over San Bernardino and Riverside. We could get a clear view if the smog had not rolled in. It has the reputation such that the local approach bring us down hard through the smog, and there is our runway: 200 Feet long and 10,000 feet wide.

Coming down the winding canyon road toward Highland still give enough of a view to appreciate terra firma below the tires instead of relying on aerodynamic lift. The tour lose its novelty when we go south on Orange Street.

"Did not we travel this road last night?" Elizabeth test.

"We did. - How'd you guess?"

"I do not know. Perhaps it is familiar, in spite of the vast apparent difference between night and day." A thought cross my mind, so I grin. "Pray. Tell me, Sir. What amuse you so vast?"

"I think you have mastered what we call; - `flying by the seat of our pants.' You probably do not want to know more." To be honest if push come to shove, I could not disclose, because I do not know much more myself.


We get sorted out upon our return to the Carson place, and soon Aunt Barbara has out her 35 pound Turkish recurve bow and has joined the girls on the shooting range. Aunt Barbara has to go back another ten yards to minimize splitting her arrow shafts when it come her turn. Vivien and Jane do tolerably well with my compound bow, but it is Elizabeth, with Aunt Barbara's instruction, who may become as formidably accurate as she.

It is a good thing Vivien has not been impeded with much of my instruction. My archery set was stowed into the closet because I cannot hit a teat with a tin cup. I certainly do not desire my dear and only niece's shooting skills, to be corrupted by my bad shooting practice.

Once again, we had a light supper. However, instead of us all hitting the DVD theater, Vivien hooked Elizabeth's curiosity, went to her room, to "surf the internet." The verb "surf" was alien enough, and the word "internet" teased her most mischievously. After a primer in Graphical User Interface computing by following the mouse icon, moving it with the mouse, and typing certain needed answers to search engine queries, Elizabeth is ready to do her own sojourns. The vast amount of knowledge available must be more than in the largest Regency house library. She and Vivien almost squabble over whose turn on the computer it is for the next search or line of inquiry. I am not given to keep track of who lead whom.

Meanwhile, Jane is quite comfortable with Aunt Barbara as she work on a sewing project. She show Jane her grandmother's old New Home treadle powered sewing machine, but then they make way back to her new Singer that has more computing power than within Apollo 11.

Meanwhile and elsewhere, Darcy, our Uncle Dan, and I are working on projects. Darcy is tying a fly, hoping that this one that is more lifelike will get the big one that feed on bait. Uncle Dan and I are trying to make a late-model Marlin lever action to work like John Wayne's 1894 Winchester with the loop handle, the one that was not too anachronistic for the movies he played many signature parts.

Before we retire for the night, we give each other a "show and tell." Jane is amazed at how fast and easy the modern sewing machine can assemble clothing and embroider it at the same time. Elizabeth may not have grasped the full meaning of Vivien's location of a Jane Austen Society chapter nearby, and their open house meeting for new members to be on Tuesday night. Vivien was most assertive of going, and having the Bennet sisters with her, as the most supreme authorities on the events, ways, &c. of that time. Of course, she want her uncles to provide transportation, and how could Darcy or I refuse?


Sunday is the day of the week when western civilized people, for centuries, go to church. Sometimes it is deemed not so essential by those who do not believe the Holy Scripture, or those who can read a faithful copy and get the message by themselves. My family and myself are of the latter, but we consider the opinion, comfort, and well-being of our guests.

Which church should we attend? Barbara suggested a church that some of her friends have extended an invitation, and today is a good day to accept. We gather ourselves in our Sunday-best, or good enough, and then go.

We park near a "community" church that does not include a denomination identifier. That can be good or not. A lot of the good parts of a community church is how much the members read independently from their own copy of Scripture in a faithful translation. The seven of us parade into the back of the chapel, Aunt Barbara join her friends, Uncle Dan follow, and then Vivien, Jane, and Darcy sit behind them, and I gesture Elizabeth into the pew next to the others.

The service was good enough, but not remarkable. The society met my expectations, brought some comfort to Elizabeth and Jane, and fulfilled Aunt Barbara's assurance to her associates. Uncle Dan and Darcy avoided dozing, or the loud snoring, and I noted a couple defects in the preacher's application of Scripture. I consider it permissible to invoke correction if asked a leading question, but as a visitor, I choose to let it go. I do not intend to encourage Biblical pablum, as I expect from a base chaplain. Hopefully, I will not be provoked, for the sake of my family and friends.

On one point I am certain: If I am to get married, I hope my bride is acquainted with a preacher with "grit" or a Rabbi. Starting a family may be better within a home-like church.

Now, I occupy space and have weight as we leave our seats. The air of boredom show all I care, we bye our leave, and am glad when we finally enter the Carson's Suburban. Now I can be civil with my family and friends as we resume today's activities in a near familiar manner.


Monday, when Darcy and I come back from our reporting to the squadron for our next duty, Jane and Elizabeth suggest that we should learn some Regency era dancing if we are going to that society meeting tomorrow night. They are right. Vivien went home after school, so searching the 'net for music is left to the blind leading the blind.

Well. Not quite that bad.

We stumbled about, as can be done on the internet, and found a few sites that have such music and information, as Elizabeth confirmed. An ask.com search string; "Regency Era dance music;" returned enough useful hits to begin winkling out some music and other material. We only needed the music, because we have the most authoritative instructors in Jane and Elizabeth.

After a couple hours of their tender instruction, the Bennet sisters can tolerate Darcy and my dancing ability for simple dances. He and I have no delusion of being adequate if we were to find ourselves back in time and at an assembly ball, but maybe tomorrow night, we will not be such an embarrassment to our special and precious friends.

"The avalanche has started. It is too late for the pebbles to vote." -Ambassador Kosh Naranek

a paranormal journey Part 4 of 5

Rae ElaineApril 13, 2015 12:12AM


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