As Season Two’s THE XENA SCROLLS concludes, Janice Covington and Melinda Pappas find themselves continuing a different saga, begun in the stories “Two Thousand Winters Ahead” and “Done There, Been That.”
IseQween@aol.com
April 2009
“We’re done here.” Janice grinned at the knapsack she’d tossed
in the truck. “Got what I came
for.” She gazed at the firelights
sputtering against the night sky above the site that once again entombed the
God of War. “And then some.”
“Uh huh.” Mel shivered, thinking of how – like this
unimaginable day – her previously dull life had also ended in flames, possibly
now destined to flare at the will of a taciturn explorer whose match Mel found
to her liking. “More than I ever dreamed.”
“What
the ….” Squinting, Janice took a step
forward.
Mel
gasped. She adjusted her
spectacles. “You see it too?”
A
couple of figures had emerged from the smoke.
One tall and dark. The other a
smaller blonde. Both wore strange
garments revealing quite a bit of flesh.
Neither looked hurt or even smudged.
Indeed, they strode forward as though accustomed to walking through
fire.
Mel
came up beside Janice. “Could Jacques
S’er have been right?” she whispered.
“About ghosts?”
“Pfft. He couldn’t get his own name straight.” Janice put a protective arm in front of
Mel. “I’ll do the talking. Ghosts, curse, trick, whatever – nothing I
can’t handle.” She flipped open her
holster and rested her other hand on her whip.
“That’s far enough,” she said, when the strangers were a few feet
away. “If you’re aimin’ for trouble,
I’m your girl. If not, state your
business.”
The
strangers gaped at Janice and Mel. They
glanced at each other, then stared again at the women in front of them. Janice and Mel did the same. All four looked as if they’d seen
ghosts. Finally the blonde displayed
her hands in a gesture of peace.
“We
mean you no harm. We were trying to go
… home. We kind of … dropped in … by
mistake.”
“Yeah? I don’t believe in mistakes. Especially at a lucrative archeological dig
in the middle of nowhere.”
The
taller woman studied Janice, as though trying to place her. “Exactly where is ‘nowhere?’” she asked, a
bit too forwardly for Janice’s tastes.
“Listen,
sister, I’m who’s askin’ the questions.
Either give me a straight answer or – .”
“Macedonia,”
Mel answered, with a restraining hand on Janice’s arm. “Is that where you were headed?”
The
strangers exchanged glances. “We’re
familiar with the area,” the taller one said.
“But no, we’d hoped to land in America.”
“I
thought so!” Mel clapped her
hands. “From yer accents. Midwest?
West Coast?”
“Mel!”
Janice hissed. “They could be from
Hoboken, for all I care. You think it’s
a coincidence? Them looking like us? Us being descendents of Gabrielle and
Xena? That they’re dressed in those
ancient outfits?” She narrowed her eyes
at the strangers. “Only way they’d
know, is if somehow they’d read those scrolls.”
“Didn’t
have to.” The taller woman blew out an
impatient breath. “It’s in our
blood.” She rolled her tongue in her
cheek. “Apparently same as yours.”
Janice
threw up her hands. “Great. Finally find treasure in the family
tree. What’s it get me? Instant relatives sniffin’ around. Staking a claim on what’s rightfully mine.”
“Ours?” Mel corrected softly, bumping Janice’s
shoulder. “You’ll have to excuse
Janice.” She put her hand to her mouth. “Oh, my.
Forgive our manners. That’s Dr.
Janice Covin’ton. I’m Melinda Pappas. Mel for short. We’ve been through quite an ordeal. You poppin’ up like this is
very … um … rather ….”
“Weird?” The blonde offered dryly. “Disturbing?”
“Uh
huh.”
“Same
here.” The other woman raised a brow at
Janice. “Lose the attitude, maybe we
can get somewhere we’ll all feel better.”
qqq
The
four women sat around a campfire not far from the smoking remnants of Ares’
tomb. They’d decided discovering more
about each other topped whatever they might find moving on in some other
direction. Mel had retrieved blankets
to sit on and graciously fixed tea for their guests. She listened attentively to their bizarre tale, occasionally
asking questions. Janice jumped up to
pace within hearing distance, chomping on a cigarillo to better digest
revelations that might otherwise stick in her craw.
She’d
learned the strangers weren’t exactly descendants of Xena and Gabrielle, but
“clones” – some type of copies created from their genetic makeup by a Xena
nemesis who’d “awakened” them 50 years in the present future. They called themselves Alex and Nikki,
partly to signal a fresh start, but also to avoid confusion with characters
based on the originals’ adventures and popularized in their new world. They’d devised a “time machine” to revisit
their roots and gotten to travel awhile with their aged … selves. Upon trying to return to their 21st
Century lives, they accidentally landed in 1940, to which Xena’s spirit had
just been pulled from her Pre-Mycenae days to briefly inhabit her descendent
Mel in order to battle a resurrected Ares.
Mel
took all this in with the innocent excitement of a kid imagining herself one of
the protagonists in a fairy tale. To
Janice it was more like science fiction foretelling cataclysmic upheavals in
the natural order of things. Oh, she
was accustomed to intrigue and the impossible all right. Had chosen to carry on Harry Covington’s
quest to locate scrolls he believed written about a female Greek warrior
legendary for deeds of mythical proportions.
But what she believed in most was control. Regardless of any strangeness she encountered on her
explorations, she kept a firm hand on her own little sphere.
Raised
by a father preoccupied with his work had taught her the importance of
self-reliance. She’d picked up skills
to defend them against trouble he was oblivious to in the remote places where
they often traveled. Came to trust her
instincts above all else, to suspect the truth of anything too good. The price was a rather solitary existence,
accompanied when needed by people whose loyalty depended on how much she paid them.
The payoff was freedom to go when and where she wanted. Nobody telling her what to do or how she
should be. Few entanglements she
couldn’t undo with her pistol, a cold shoulder or “Sorry, babe. It’s been nice, but gotta go.” Yet, in the course of a few hours, her grip
on all that had slipped with the discovery of ties she hadn’t counted on.
Mel
she could tolerate. The naive Southern
belle actually complemented Janice’s rugged individualism. Was suitably deferential. A surprising streak of spunk giving spine to
neediness and a good-hearted nature.
Smart, but not in the ways of the crusty explorer’s rough and tumble
world. Loath as she might be to admit
it, Janice secretly looked forward to teaming up with someone she could trust
at her back. Share her exploits
with. Temper tendencies that weren’t so
good for her health. Mel somehow made
Janice stand straighter. Taller. All in all, not so bad.
Adjusting
to Gabrielle as a forebear was another challenge. The useless tagalong?!
Not in Janice’s wildest dreams.
When she’d possessed Mel, Xena had insisted Gabrielle was far more than
that. While of some consolation, it
wasn’t as convincing as the blond woman sitting a few feet away. Nikki claimed to be as close to the real
Gabrielle as you could get. Everything
about her projected Xena’s equal, from her bearing to her muscular
physicality. She behaved more like Mel
in terms of congeniality or likelihood at cussing and spitting tobacco. Still, all in all, not so bad.
The
woman with a striking resemblance to Mel?
Hard to believe they shared the same blood. Nothing modest about Alex.
She oozed dominance from every pore, commanded attention with the hike
of a brow. Could probably cuss and spit
with the best. Put a hole through
somebody as easily as Smythe’s goons had ventilated Janice’s hat. Friend or foe, no question whether you’d
want that cocked weapon at your back.
Just looking at her made Janice’s trigger finger twitch. Sparked an urge to ruffle feathers of this
dark bird who had so ceremoniously landed in the roost previously ruled by one
hen.
Noting
a lull in the others’ conversation, Janice sauntered back to perch on a pile of
crates. “This Alti character. The witch who brought you to life or
whatever. Sounds like a real winner.”
Nikki
smiled, pleased the guarded explorer had decided to communicate beyond
grunts. “As bad as they come. A curse on Xena from the moment they met. One we’re destined to battle in many lives
for who knows how long.”
Janice
pulled out a switchblade and began cleaning her fingernails. “I meant, seems she had Xena’s number. Turned her from an overachieving warlord
into something worse, right? An enemy
Xena can neutralize.” She glanced up
casually at Alex. “But never
eliminate?”
Nikki
frowned. “Xena’s defeated her several
times. If you mean – .”
“Let
her finish.” Alex cocked her head, eyes
boring into Janice. “Tell us herself
what she means.”
Janice
gave Alex a cool smile. “I’m a simple
archeologist. Hot after the Xena
Scrolls for their educational value.”
She poked a finger through the hole in her hat. “Almost killed over what turned out to be a
lot more than I figured.”
“Uh
huh.” Mel leaned forward. “Powers so strong evil governments fancy
them. The ‘deep, dark secrets of the gods.’” She ducked her head. “That’s how Jacques S’er explained it
anyway. Some thought the scrolls the
source of a terrible weapon. We believe
now it was more about Ares. Unleashing
him inta the world again, ya know?”
“Exactly. He bragged about potential for mayhem in
modern times – this Hitler guy and his ilk.
Could be your Alti is mixed up in that somehow.”
Mel’s
head dropped. “And I’d be ta blame.”
“You?!” Nikki gaped at Mel. “How on earth – .”
“Tryin’
too hard ta help. Ta prove I’m not such a
….” Mel glanced apologetically
at Janice. “I didn’t listen to
`er. I’m who deciphered the lock for
that awful Smythe. I freed the other
half of the broken chakram. I was the
descendent Ares needed ta rise and escape.
If Xena’s spirit hadn’t come ta the rescue ….”
“Hey.” Janice moved to crouch beside Mel, chagrined
at hitting the wrong target. “Don’t
beat yourself up. We got the scrolls
because of you. `Cause you had the stubbornness to push yourself on me.” She lightly punched Mel’s shoulder. “And disobey.”
Mel
grinned sheepishly. “She told me ta
sit, stay and be quiet. That’s when I
accidentally leaned against the spring ta the vault of scrolls.”
“Yup. A lot happened despite us. Out of our control.” Janice narrowed her eyes at Alex. “Almost like it was meant to be.”
Nikki
grinned. “No doubt that’s so, with you
two meeting.”
“Uh
huh. Me findin’ her inquiry ta
Professor Pappas? Comin’ in his
place?” Mel grinned. “‘Shazam!’”
She brushed dust from her suit jacket, with a shy glance at Janice. “Now we’re gonna do some explorin’
tagether.”
“Mm. Interesting side note. I suspect Janice was headed somewhere
else.” Alex crossed her arms. “Back to
Alti, I presume?”
Janice
snorted softly before returning to sit on the crates. “Alti sort of created ‘monster’ Xena. You say she’s an evil force who could crop up any time in
anybody. Except for Xena’s miraculous
appearance, an innocent descendant might’ve loosed Ares in the 20th
Century. What’s next?” Janice flipped the switchblade in her hand
as though pondering this question. “Oh,
yeah. She manufactures a new version of
Xena. In the 21st
Century.”
“Let
me guess,” Alex said at Janice’s pregnant pause. “And we … ‘mistakenly’ … appear out of nowhere. Right after you blow the site of Ares’ tomb
to smithereens.”
Mel
and Nikki felt a chill in the air, a tension between the other two women
despite their efforts to appear relaxed.
“Janice? Surely you don’t mean ta imply Alti sent
them here ta ….”
“Alex,
let’s not jump to conclusions, okay?
She’s not necessarily suggesting you’re some sort of … of ….”
“Pawn?” Janice shrugged. “Like I said, I’m just an archeologist. Laying out what I dig up.
Arranging specimens to see how they fit.” She stood and stretched, sporting a cautiously superior
smile. “Too soon to tell what we’ll get
in the end.”
qqq
The
consensus reaction to strained fireside chats was early retirement a sufficient
distance from the scent of dynamite.
The night sky of the explosive day was actually quite clear – perfect
for sleeping under the stars.
“What’s
she doing now.”
Nikki
rolled her eyes. She glanced over her
shoulder. “Getting some bed rolls, just
like us. Wait …. She’s walking to her truck. Starting to clear out the bags. Guess they’ll be sleeping there instead of
…. Hmmm. She’s staring at Mel. Now
she’s going back to the supply pile.
Dragging out …. Ah. Seems she decided on a tent.”
“Figures. Prob’ly afraid Mel’ll wilt in the great
outdoors.”
“What’s
she doing?” Janice handed Mel some
stakes, shouldered the tent and led the way to the spot she’d picked.
“I’m
sorry?” Mel caught up to Janice.
“What’s who doin’?”
“Alex. No, don’t look! I mean, do it, but on the sly.”
“Janice,
whatever are you talkin’ about? They’re
gettin’ ready for bed, same as us.”
“I
know that!” Janice dropped the tent and
knelt beside it. “Tell me something I
don’t know.”
Perplexed,
Mel crouched next to Janice. “If yer so
curious, why dontcha just – .”
“Just
do it, okay? Is she checkin’ us out or
what?”
Mel
blew out a long breath. As casually as
she could, she turned. And discovered
Nikki doing the same. They held each
other’s eyes momentarily with a trace of embarrassment, replaced with
bemusement.
“Um,
she’s mindin’ her own business. Takin’
off those wrist guards. Now the armor.”
“Yeah,
yeah. Miss Tough Guy. Just had to time travel in those warrior
duds ”
“Ohhhh,
that’s interestin’.”
“What?” Janice steeled herself against turning
around. “What’s interesting?”
“She’s
reachin’ behind her back.” Mel
smirked. “To … scratch. Reckon maybe she has an itch?”
Janice
ground her teeth. “Just what I
need. A comedian. Fine.
You can’t spy worth squat, might as well hand me that mallet. I’ll show you how to anchor this thing.”
“She
checkin’ us out yet?” Alex tried to
scratch her back. “While you’re at it,
give me a hand, will you? Got an itch. Can’t reach it.”
“Sure. And no, she’s fixing the tent. Apparently minding her own business.” Nikki snorted. “Just like you.”
Alex
cut her eyes at Nikki, but figured a snarky retort would provide more kindling
to cook her goose. Still refusing to
indicate the least bit interest in what her other blond nemesis might be up to,
she silently went about their retiring routine. Awhile later, she lay on her back gazing at the sky.
“Go
ahead. Say it.”
“Mmmm.” Nikki burrowed deeper into her bedroll. “Hmmm?”
“Tell
me I’m being an idiot.”
“You?
An idiot? How so, dear?”
“Grrrr. I’ll have to hear it sooner or later. Might as well get it over with.”
Nikki
yawned. “About Janice?” She rolled her head toward Alex. “Your ‘My whip is better, my chakram faster
than your bullets’ attitude? The fact
she drives you to grind your teeth?”
“See? That wasn’t so hard.” Alex closed her eyes. “We can both sleep better, now that’s off
your chest.”
“Mmhm. I’m right there with ya.”
“Mm. Figured you’d ….” Alex’s eyes blinked
open. “Say again?”
“I
can excuse the spitting. Those awful
cigars. Manners and sensitivity of a
bar fly. That a branch on my family
tree gnarled into a mockery of its roots.
Harmony, trust, joy, hope as solid in her heart as that hole in her
hat. But accusing you of being a tool
for Alti? An incarnation of such a
malevolent spirit?” Nikki resisted the
urge to spit. “I can’t decide which
would satisfy me more – watching you wipe that sneer off her face, or doing it
myself.”
“Yeah?” Alex rolled to her side. “You serious?”
“As
Ares on steroids.”
“Wow.” Alex digested this unexpected
admission. “She’s feisty. Got your smarts too.” She snickered. “Your cute nose. And
butt. That counts for somethin’, dontcha
think?”
Nikki
pursed her lips. “As much as Mel’s do
for you.”
“Eh,
Mel’s not so bad. Is she what I
pictured on my family tree? No. But you gotta remember, I’ve seen quite a
few warped versions, even if they weren’t related. Just `cause they were silly didn’t keep `em from being brave or
good-hearted underneath.”
“Please. Tell me it doesn’t bother you the least bit
– her klutziness or ‘Ooo, that is ever so interestin’’ about practically
anything. How she drools over Janice
like a puppy dog.”
“Um
…. Something else I’ve experienced
before.” Alex tweaked Nikki’s
nose. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”
“What’re
you ….” Nikki’s mouth dropped. “Alex!”
She swatted her partner’s arm.
“I was never that …. Okay, maybe
a little. At first. For a while. A relatively short while.”
She scowled in rare defeat.
“Smarty pants.”
“Uh
huh.” Alex basked a moment in rare
victory. “I like her. More importantly, she likes us. Doesn’t treat me like a vessel of evil.”
Nikki
sighed. “Yeah. I like her too.” She smirked. “Maybe
`cause she actually does remind me of somebody I’ve experienced before. But nicer.
Much nicer.”
“What’re you ….” Alex recognized the signs of a trap. “You just had to go there.
Couldn’t stand letting me win.”
“Tsk
tsk. So suspicious. I’m merely pointing out the irony. How the early you was so different from
Mel.” She snickered. “More similar to ….”
“Arghhh! You’d compare me to that … that …. To somebody who deserves throttling?”
“Perhaps
I spoke too hastily. You gave me a new
perspective. There could be hope for
Janice after all. Liking her, I mean.” Nikki tweaked Alex’s nose. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”
qqq
The
kerosene lamps illuminated the tent interior.
Large burlap sacks layered the tarp floor. Next to one of two cots sat a cloth-covered crate with a plane of
reflective glass propped against an earthen vase filled with desert flora. A large bowl atop another crate held
water. Wrinkled towels hung from a rack
big enough to drape a few clothes. The
only thing missing …. Janice dashed
outside. Three trips later, the tent
also featured two rickety wooden folding chairs and a small camping table
bearing two mugs and a dusty bottle Mel hoped contained wine.
“My.” Mel surveyed Janice’s handiwork. “This’s whatcha call roughin’ it?”
“Nah. All I need is somethin’ soft to lay my head
on. Don’t usually have guests. Least, not the princess variety.”
“Well,
thank ya, ma’am.” Mel mock
curtsied. “I, for one, appreciate yer
hospitality.”
Janice
grunted in response and began unbuckling her belt, mainly to hide the hint of a
blush. “Don’t count on it being a
habit. G’won, do your night stuff. Brought some of my special brew to sample
before we turn in. Oughtta knock you
right out.”
Mel
chuckled. “Just like my daddy. He liked quiet when he worked,” she said,
undressing. “I was a bit of a chatter
bug.”
“What
a surprise,” Janice muttered, sitting to pull off her boots.
“He’d
trundle me off ta bed and hand me a cup. `Melinda,’ he’d say, ‘this’ll give ya
sweet dreams.’ It was tea, but smelled
like his breath after his dinner cordials.
Next thing he’d hear me singin’ and talkin’ ta myself. He’d bring me another cup. ‘I swear, girl, ya must have yer mother’s
hollow leg.’”
Janice
watched Mel place her carefully folded suit in her briefcase and extract an
embroidered nightshirt. “You plannin’
on wearing that tomorrow?”
“Of
course not, silly. A lady wouldn’t wear
this in public.”
“Oh,
like she would heels, a skinny skirt and white gloves in the desert?”
“Perfectly
proper attire for introducin’ oneself on a business trip. I hadn’t been to a dig site before. Soooo …..”
Mel reached in the satchel again.
“I packed these britches just in case.”
“Huh. Who’d a thought. What else you carry in that thing?”
Mel
raised a foot. “Well, these sandals I
got on. The usual necessities.” She laid out other contents on her
“nightstand” and cot – brush, comb, cosmetics, jars of cream, toothbrush,
baking soda, hair net and curlers, razor, manicure set, change of underwear,
pairs of stockings and socks, khaki shirt, thin rain parka, pullover sweater,
bendable slip-on shoes, couple scarves, baseball cap, diary, and pen. She poked her nose in the briefcase. “Um, some … intimates. Hygienic.
Oh, and ….” She held up a
Derringer. “For emergencies.”
Janice’s jaw dropped. “You kiddin’ me?”
“I’m
from the South, remember. I’ve been
campin’ `n’ huntin’.” Mel stowed the gun
away. “Daddy said you should always be
prepared for the unexpected.”
“I
meant ….” Janice swept her hand at
Mel’s “necessities.” “How’d you cram
all this in that satchel? It’s enough
for a suitcase!”
Mel
beamed. “Proper packin’ is an art, for
sure.” She snorted. “A side benefit of Madame Amanda’s Finishin’
School for Girls.”
Janice
shook her head. She got undressed –
which didn’t take long, considering she slept in her undershirt and
panties. She occupied herself cleaning
her weapons, as she hadn’t a clue how long Mel would need in front of the
makeshift mirror. In reality, Mel
focused as much on Janice’s reflection as she did her own. Though very different than her father, the
edgy explorer did evoke memories of a certain prize-winning linguist.
Very
much a perfectionist, the senior Pappas had demanded the highest standards of
his daughter, as he did of his work.
He’d ensured she received an excellent, well-rounded education –
suitable whether she pursued matrimony or an academic career. She accepted his criticism as a form of
love, but when her mother died young, so did the moments of unconditional joy
in watching a child just be, or pride at her mastery of the simplest thing. Of hugs “just because.” Or fun for the sake of it.
As accomplished
as she became, it never seemed good enough.
The harder she tried, the more likely she’d flail about and stumble –
her efforts crashing to the floor. She
envied Janice’s “can do” assurance. Her
ability to concentrate on the basics of survival or winning. To go after what she wanted without
conflicting emotions or worries about someone else’s approval. To carve out a niche where all she needed
was what she had –
her
pistol, whip, fearlessness, and brains.
The wrong word or a breach of etiquette would hardly send her into fits
of self-doubt. Mel gradually recognized
that – while it pained her to question one woman reflected in the mirror – she
wanted to be more like the other.
She
removed the last of her makeup. Wrapped
her curlers in a scarf and shoved them into her briefcase. Shook out her hair, letting it cascade down
her nightshirt. Walked to the small
table, sat and poured herself some of Janice’s mystery drink. She took a sniff before downing the whole
cup.
“Janice?”
“Heh. Old habits die hard, eh? Give me a sec. I’ll toss one back with ya.”
“What
d’ya see?”
The
archeologist had disassembled her pistol, intent on getting it in shape for
encounters her gut warned were right over the horizon. “Evidence I’ve been a bad momma. Shoulda cleaned this baby days ago.”
“I
mean, when ya see me.” Mel took a deep
breath and squared her shoulders.
“Could I be her? Xena?”
“Huh?” Janice glanced up to see a face free of any
“aids.” A few words came to mind. Naked.
Vulnerable. Exquisite. None came out of her mouth.
“When
she possessed me? I know she had on my
clothes. My lipstick and powder. What of her essence? D’ya see it in my eyes?” Mel lifted her chin. “My bearin’?”
Janice
felt wedged between a rock and a hard place.
Not something she was accustomed to.
Not when it came to saying exactly what she thought. She could honestly say Xena’s appearance had
been a unique situation. That the
legendary warrior was the farthest thing from her mind right now, while Mel was
real and fine as she was. At this
moment, more than fine. Perfectly …
natural.
Somehow
Janice’s thoughts got expressed as, “Forget that. It’s crazy talk. You and
her the same? Nah, isn’t right.”
Mel
didn’t understand why Janice’s opinion mattered so much, but her eyes welled
and fists balled as though her daddy had morphed into a short blonde. She grabbed her cup and swallowed until
there was no more. “Well, I asked for
it, didn’t I?” She stood abruptly and
a tad wobbly. “I knew ya ta be a
straight shooter, Janice Covin’ton,” she threw over her shoulder, walking over
to lie on her cot. “But not so mean.”
Janice
was dumbfounded. Her heart pounded the
way it had the time Frank Covington forgot his little daughter accompanied him
to an old mausoleum. By the time he
finally came to fetch her, she’d closed herself off to ever feeling so
abandoned again. Until now. All she had to do was admit the words came
out wrong. Speak honestly from her
heart. Then again, what if she had?
“Sorry,
sweetheart. What you see is what you
get.” Janice poured herself a
drink. She took a long swig. “You’ve been around me what? Barely a day. You think that’s long enough to know me? Maybe in your neat little world. You have no idea what I’m capable of in
mine.” She tossed back another
swig. “My father’s schemes to finance
his research? Peanuts compared to what
I’ve had to do. You think I carry arms
for show? Smythe was the first scum in
my way? Yeah, well, the body count is
much higher than him. And Ares can’t
take credit for those.”
Janice
stalked around turning down the lamps.
“Count yourself lucky,” she said, plumping down on her cot. “You could’ve lost those rose-colored
glasses after that ‘travel together’ fantasy of yours.” In the silence following her tirade, she
heard a light snore.
Janice
quietly gathered what she needed and slipped into the pre-dawn grayness. She checked on the two lumpy bedrolls across
the way before jogging to the hill behind the main dig site. She climbed to the top and unfurled a thin
mat. After taking a drink from her
canteen, she stretched out on her belly and raised her binoculars. Her initial scan revealed no movement in the
dusty expanse that offered more opportunity for a sneak attack than the road at
her back. Besides, if intruders chose
the easier entry, they’d have to get by Alex.
Whatever her personal feelings about the Xena clone, Janice wasn’t
stupid.
“See
anything?”
Janice
whipped around, at the same time going for her gun. Before she’d freed it from its holster, a large body dropped
beside her.
“Are
you nuts?! Sneakin’ up on me like
that?!”
“Wasn’t
expecting company. But I’m always
prepared.”
“Pfft. That old armor? Your chakram? They better
than a speeding bullet?”
“Don’t
have to be.” Alex raised a brow. “If I’m faster than whoever shoots it.”
Janice
jumped to her feet. “I’m warnin’ you,
don’t mess with me. Whatever you are,
it’s nothin’ more than an arrogant knock-off of the real Xena, far as I’m
concerned. And I ain’t your
sidekick. You can take your – .”
“Calm
down,” Alex advised – as much for herself as to the woman fuming above
her. She sat up. “I didn’t come to fight. We’re here for the same reason. A sense of danger from out there.” She shrugged. “Later, you wanna take up the other, be my guest.”
Janice
crossed her arms. “Mighty gracious,
seeing as how you’re who busted in.
Uninvited.”
“Yeah.” Alex snorted. “Didn’t exactly spark a warm welcome in Xena and Gabrielle
either.” At Janice’s frown she explained, “The originals. On our first time travel.” She sighed.
“`Know thyself.’ Riiight. Dealing with so many versions? From angles that can cut deep? Not sure anybody’s programmed for that.”
Janice
held the eyes whose blueness mirrored Mel’s, surprised to see the same
guilelessness and sincerity. Her own
shields lowered in response. “I
wouldn’t know much about that,” she said, squatting across from Alex. “Before this, all I cared about was my dad
and me. Redeeming his reputation. Making my own. Now I find out there’s a lot more to my heritage. Maybe my destiny. Everything based on a few ancient scribbles.” She scowled at Alex. “And hearsay.”
Alex
stretched out her legs. “Xena’s visit
to Ares’ tomb? I have those
memories. They’re brief. Kinda … detached … like most before waking
up centuries later.”
“Do
you remember … me?”
“Sure. Got a kick out of a Gabrielle
look-alike.” Alex snickered. “Dressed to kill. Temperament to match.”
Janice
rolled her tongue in her cheek. “Yeah,
it was great watching Mel’s body kicking, pummeling and rolling in the
dirt. Witnessing the so-called mythical
Warrior Princess in action. When it was
over ….” Janice smirked. “I didn’t mind getting sweet, klutzy Mel
back.”
“I
remember you underestimating Gabrielle.
Like maybe you do Mel. And
yourself, when it comes to Xena.”
Janice
narrowed her eyes. “What’re you talking
about?”
“In
that tomb. When Xena first took
command.”
“I
was dazed. Merely showing respect. Ares was her show. No way I’d take the lead in that.”
“In
the end, when Ares had her at his mercy?
Who stopped him?”
Janice
rubbed her jaw, recalling a yesterday that seemed ages ago. She remembered Ares’ sword poised above
Xena. She’d instinctively …. “Me! With my whip!”
“Uh
huh. Just like Gabrielle saved Xena
time after time.” Alex squeezed
Janice’s shoulder. “There’s no better
blood to flow through your veins. To
pump from your heart. Trust this, from
someone who’s been around the bend more times and longer than anybody else
you’ll run into.”
Janice
begrudged a shy nod. “Not so bad
yourself. For somebody I was tempted to
deck.”
“Heh.” Alex gazed out over the barren terrain she
could now see rather clearly in the spreading light. “You’ve a lot to be thankful for, Janice. For one thing, the capability to dig up
treasure ‘in the middle of nowhere.’
This is your show. Even a blind
person could see you’re the star in Mel’s sight.”
“Pfft.” Janice shook her head. “A bull in her own china shop, that’s
me. Last night, it was hurting
Mel. Guess I oughtta ….” She stiffened. “You hear something?”
The
two turned toward the campsite. Though
rubble partially obscured their view, they could see cars, trucks and a couple
motorcycles lining the road.
“Hell’s
bells! Mel’s all alone!” Janice began scrabbling backwards down the
hill.
“No,
Nikki’s there.” Still, Alex moved even
faster.
qqq
“Mel?” Nikki nudged the other woman’s
shoulder. “Time you started moving.”
“Mmmm Movin’?”
Mel shifted on her cot. “This far
enough?”
Nikki
chuckled. “And Alex says I’m not
a morning person. If you can call this
‘morning’ yet.” She crouched beside
Janice. “Why don’t I make us some
coffee. I’ll see if Janice has anything
sweet around.” She muttered to herself,
“Hopefully something that hasn’t turned green.”
Janice
tried to get up. “Oh, my,” she said,
pressing her hand to her forehead.
“Guess my hollow leg got shorter, the taller I grew.”
“Come
again?”
“Janice’s
brew. I imbibed a trifle too much last
night.” Mel’s brow furrowed. “I … um … think we had a … fight. Speakin’ of which ….”
“She’s
not here. I suspect doing surveillance,
same as Alex.” Janice set the water
bowl near Mel. She handed her the khaki
pants and shirt from the clothes rack.
“This should get you started. If
you can manage more than a snail’s pace, we might have time for some ‘girl
talk.’”
Mel
smiled. “I’d like that. I’ll do my best.”
Not
too long after, the two sat in the dawn stillness at the campfire Nikki
preferred to a kerosene stove.
“So,
what was the fight about?”
Mel
snorted. “Shadows? Ghosts?
Dreams? Gotten hard ta tell the
difference.” She stretched out her legs
and gazed absently into space. “We had
strong fathers. Janice and me. I told her we shared needin’ ta stand on our
own. Her daddy’s reputation left her
open ta hurtful accusations. ‘Grave
robber.’ Diggin’ for cash more than
historical illumination.”
“She’s
a tough one, all right.”
“On
the other hand, ya got the great Professor Pappas. His reputation protected me in a way. Folks expected a lot, but overlooked a lot too. Treated me like an extension of him. ‘Melinda’s got promise. Give `er some more years and trainin’,
she’ll measure up to her daddy’s footsteps.’”
“Mm. That’s tough too. Proving you’re your own person in a different way.” Nikki chuckled. “Been there. Still doing
that.”
“And
that was before knowin’ about Xena. Who
she was. Whether I could live up to her
heritage.” Mel’s chin dropped. “I want to.
Janice doesn’t see it. And she
got ta experience the real Warrior Princess.”
Nikki
leaned forward. “Maybe it’s as much
about Janice? What she does or doesn’t
want to see? It’s one thing when you’re
talking a legend who breezed in through you for a few minutes. It’s quite another having to compete with
her in the flesh over dinner.” She
snorted. “Judging by Janice’s fondness
for Alex.”
Mel
nodded. “That Alti malarkey? An excuse, ta my mind. Not that Janice’d need one for struttin’
around with a chip on `er shoulder.”
Nikki
laughed. “Nor did ‘early’ Xena.”
“Early
Xena?”
“Ah. I forget.
You wouldn’t know about that from the little you’ve uncovered so
far.” Nikki studied Mel a moment. “I’m not sure all that matters anyway. Xena, I mean. How much of her you carry inside. I get the feeling Janice likes you for yourself.” She noted the other woman didn’t seem
surprised by this observation. Or
particularly encouraged. “Mel? You think I’m wrong?”
Mel
shook out her slightly disheveled hair.
“Ya didn’t see me when I first arrived here,” she said, running a
manicured finger down the crease of her khakis. “Had a nice prim bun, my little hat perched on top. High heels.
Nearly peed in my knickers – if you’ll pardon the expression – first
time one of Smythe’s men said ‘boo.’
Then Janice stepped in.” She
snorted. “Made `em wet their
pants.”
“Ah. Another protector.” Nikki nodded knowingly. “Not sure it’s a habit you want to continue,
eh?”
Mel
looked up with moist eyes. “I don’t
have ta be the hero. Sidekick, tagalong,
assistant – I don’t care. It’s just
…. A shrinkin’ violet’s who Janice
accepted travelin’ with. But I’ve got
desires and opinions, a stubborn streak – more like what we call a ‘steel
magnolia.’ So she doesn’t see Xena in
me. So she likes me as I am. What if it’s the violet? What’s the magnolia supposed ta do?”
Nikki
snorted. “Boy, does that sound
familiar. Well, not so much
anymore. But back when ….” She
stiffened. “Do you hear
that?” She cocked her head toward the
road. “Engines?”
Mel
squinted at the dark shapes snaking through the dawning light. “Oh, my!
You think – .”
“I
think we could be in for trouble.”
Nikki jumped up, searching for decent cover.
“Can
you shoot?” Mel looked around for the
crates containing Janice’s machine gun and other weapons. She froze, suddenly remembering extra
supplies being carted off by workers.
“What do we do now?”
Nikki
counted about a half dozen men stalking toward them from the left, another from
the right, and a couple riding slowly up the middle on motorcycles. “Sit,” she ordered, dropping down behind
their campfire.
“Beg
yer pardon?”
“Sit!” Nikki pulled the taller woman down next to
her. “Act natural. Follow my lead.” She grabbed her coffee cup and calmly appraised the intruders. “Hello there,” she greeted the first men
who halted a few feet away. “Are you
from the museum?”
qqq
Janice
and Alex hid behind a pile of dirt at the back of the main dig rubble. They had little trouble making out the men
who’d entered the camp. Those grouped
on the left wore fancy explorer gear. A
couple carried rifles. The ragtag
ruffian types on the right displayed an assortment of weaponry. Two motorcyclists hanging back near the
center also had rifles slung over their shoulders.
“Lousy
poachers.” Janice flipped her holster
flap.
“No! Can’t go in, gun blazing. Too risky.”
“What
about that chakram? It’ll be on `em
before they know it.”
“I
said I was fast. Wouldn’t bet
either of us against a bullet in this situation.”
“Crap! They’re almost on top of `em. We gotta do something!”
“Wait,
I said!” Alex focused on her
partner. “Give Nikki a chance.”
“To
do what? Play sitting ducks?” Janice scowled at her forebear sipping
coffee as though nothing were amiss.
“What in tarnation is she doing?”
“Not
sure yet.” Alex smirked. “But it’s bound to knock somebody’s socks
off.”
qqq
“Museum?” A pompous looking man separated himself from
his colleagues. “Hmmm. It is a rather extensive collection. Quite formidable, with the artifacts Smythe
promised.” He twirled the end of his
elaborate mustache. “The Burghemonte
Fitzhugh Museum of Self-Authorized Antiquities. Yes, does have a nice ring.”
“You
fops can have your antiquateds,” sneered a burly man from the other group. “Tell Smythe Turk’s here for that weapon of
mass destruction.”
“And
you two gentlemen?” Nikki asked the cyclists.
“What did you order?”
The
cyclists exchanged glances. “We’re here
on … speculation,” the older one said.
“We’ll know what we want when we see it.”
“Enough!” Fitzhugh scowled at the women. “Your employer sent word he’d found access
to the Xena Scrolls. Fetch him. I don’t intend to suffer this dust a moment
longer than necessary.”
Nikki
stood, pulling Mel up with her. “I’m
afraid Mr. Smythe is unavailable.” She
pointed to the rubble behind her.
“Unless you choose to dig him up.”
The
men stared at the rubble. “What?!”
“That
was the site of discovery. He was about
to complete his work. Someone ….” Nikki paused suggestively.
“Someone
what?”
“Blew
it up.”
The
men eyed each other suspiciously as they huddled with their groups to discuss
this news. The ruffians advanced on the
women.
“How
do we know you don’t have it? Or
haven’t made a deal with one of them,” Turk said gesturing toward the others. “The fops might take your word for it.” He pulled out a knife. “I’d just as soon cut the truth outta ya.”
“Oh,
my. Gentlemen, please. D’ya really think such violence
necessary? When the answer may be
starin’ ya in the face?”
qqq
“Okay,
I’ve seen enough.” Alex coiled, ready
to go in, chakram flying.
“Hold
up.” Janice found herself drawn to the
tall dark-haired woman in khaki, shoulders squaring, spine straightening – in a
moment transforming into a vision of confidence and control. Last night, Janice thought Mel couldn’t look
more perfect. She had second thoughts
about that now. “Mel’s up to
something.”
Alex
tried to discern some hint of a defense.
“Yeah? What’s she doing?”
“Beats
me. Got a feeling it might beat those
thugs too.”
qqq
Turk
sneered. “Tell me somethin’ I didn’t
already figure.”
“My
pleasure. You, sir,” Mel said to
Fitzhugh, “may have heard of the great Professor Pappas?”
Fitzhugh
stroked his goatee. “I have.”
“I
happen to be his daughter.
Melinda. Also a rather
accomplished linguist. No doubt yer
equally acquainted with Frank Covin’ton?”
“Indeed. I owe many of my acquisitions to his thirst
for discovery.” Fitzhugh
snickered. “And cold, hard cash. I meant to consult him about some tablets
that came into my possession.
Regrettably, he died first.”
“Hey! What is this? Fop home week? She’s
stallin’. You want jabberin’?” Turk waved his knife. “I’ll get ya the jabberin’ we came for.”
“Let
her talk.” Fitzhugh crooked his head at
one of his rifle bearers, who aimed at Turk.
“She’s bound to be more illuminating than you.”
“Not
yet.” Turk put a hand up to calm his
bristling men. “See how this plays
out. We can mop the fops after, if it
suits us.”
Fitzhugh
turned back to Mel as if he’d flicked something distasteful from his
sleeve. “Continue.”
“This is Janice Covin’ton. She shares her daddy’s talent for
archeology. And financial …
creativity. The costume she’s wearin’
once belonged to Gabrielle, Xena’s long-time companion.” Mel paused for dramatic effect. “And author of the scrolls you seek.”
“See? Toldya.
Bet they got that weapon too.”
“Um
…. Well ….”
“May
I?” Nikki smiled at Mel. “We retrieved a few items before the
explosion. What’s under the rubble is
still protected by traps. Instructions
that must be deciphered. You’d need our
assistance for that.” Nikki cut her
eyes at Turk. “Which would be
difficult, should we be incapacitated in any way.” She shrugged. “Question
is, who’s still interested and willing to put their backs into it?”
The
men discussed this among themselves.
Some clearly had reservations.
“Let’s
say I agree to work with … them. We
manage to unearth everything.” Fitzhugh
raised a brow at Turk, who obviously shared the same concern. “What’s to stop one side from taking it
all?”
“Yeah,
and what about those two?” Turk waved a
hand at the silent cyclists. “We still
don’t know what they’re after.”
“You
want the weapon. Fitzhugh wants the scrolls.”
Nikki smiled wryly. “Did either
of you bother to bring money?”
Reluctantly, both men nodded.
“Normally I would ask for compensation.
Being a chip off my old man’s block and all. In this situation, escaping
with my life will do.” She looked at
the cyclists. “Perhaps these gentlemen
would accept our payment instead?”
The
older cyclist blew out a breath. “We
had orders to follow Turk. Maybe
highjack whatever he found.” He
shrugged. “The outfit we work for
wouldn’t like us coming back empty handed.
We’ll take what we can get. Long
as it makes the trip worthwhile.”
“Excellent. As to … security. Each … team … could assign one man to guard duty, while the
others did excavation. Everyone else
would disarm. Pile the weapons off to
the side but in plain sight. If one of
the guards broke the rules, there’d still be the chance for a good old blood
bath.” Nikki glanced around. “Yes?”
Mumbling
and grumbling, the men divested themselves of their weapons as suggested. They got tools from their trucks and
improvised devices to help clear away the debris. Fitzhugh directed the women to spread their blanket between the
site and the guards, where one of the two had to remain at all times.
qqq
“Gotta
hand it to `em. They’ve done pretty
well.” Janice chuckled. “For a couple of ‘sidekicks.’”
“Mm. Wonder how long before those idiots’ll
realize they need a bulldozer to move that crap.”
“Attack
now? Wait until they tire?”
“I
vote for now. We’ll go for the guards,
while the others are preoccupied.”
“I’ll
take the one on the right.”
“Janice,
he’s twice your size.”
“So? Little Lord Fauntleroy on the left too much
for ya?”
Alex
rolled her eyes. “And Nikki calls me
competitive. Fine.”
“Who
gets the cycle guy?”
“Whichever
of us moves faster.”
Hearts
racing at finally seeing some action, the two crawled in their respective
directions. They came up behind their
targets at about the same time. Each
guard noticed the danger to the other first.
Both looked in confusion at the women seated in front of them. Seconds later, the big guard’s legs flew out
from under him and – like the smaller one across the way – he succumbed to a
blow to the head. Rather than yelling
or resisting, the middle guard simply dropped his weapon and put up his hands.
“Hey! What’s going on?!” Turk lumbered forward from where he’d been supervising his
men. Along with the others, he blinked
in disbelief at the scene in front of him – two guards sprawled on the ground,
the third apparently surrendered to the blonde and her taller friend. Except now, they had … twins?
“Problem?” The taller newcomer fingered a disk at her
waist.
Fitzhugh
glowered at the woman’s costume. “She’s
in on it too! Get them!”
A
shot rang out. The intruders
froze. All but Turk. He started to make a run for the weapons
pile. Another shot rang out. He turned to see the blond look-alike with a
pistol in one hand and a rifle in the other, leveled at his considerable girth.
“Go
ahead. Make my day. You too,” the woman said to several men
preparing to rush her. She tilted her
head toward the other women. “Between
us, figure we can cripple any of you we don’t kill.”
A few
quiet moments passed. The women the
men had negotiated with earlier appeared content for the day to end as it had
transpired thus far – without bloodshed.
The other two radiated hair-trigger menace they’d gladly release at the
slightest excuse. And yet one of the
men moved anyway – the younger cyclist.
Slowly lifting his arm, he pointed to the road winding to the camp.
“The
good news is, no more digging,” the cyclist said. “The bad news – for some of you – is that reinforcements have
arrived.”
qqq
Soldiers
herded the last of Turk’s men onto trucks, where they joined Fitzhugh and
company. The cyclists explained they’d
been patrolling the area when alerted to potential mayhem. A “strange legionnaire with a terrible
French accent” had seen an armed caravan headed toward friends at an
archeological dig. Fearing it might be
Turk’s band, the cyclists donned civilian clothes and decided to check it
out. They told the strange man to
inform fellow soldiers at a guard post a few miles away.
“Ya
see, Janice? I knew he had a noble
heart.” Mel watched the soldiers pull
off with their prisoners. “A blessing
in disguise.”
“You
mean the strange legionnaire?” Nikki
asked.
“Pfft.” Janice rolled her eyes. “A bumbling brush salesman from Jersey. Called himself
Jacques
S’er. His real name is – .”
“Oh,
gods.” Nikki looked beseechingly at
Alex. “Please tell me it’s a
coincidence? Surely he couldn’t be – .”
“A
Joxer descendant? Afraid so.”
Mel
glanced between the clones. “Ya don’t
like him? Isn’t that a bit harsh? I mean, ya didn’t even get to know – .”
“I
did. When Xena … um … when I took over
your body.” Alex shuddered. “Not to mention during other lives too numerous
to mention.”
Nikki
chuckled. “In the future? The moving pictures based on the
scrolls? They include this adventure. I hadn’t realized until I saw it, but nearly
every time someone mentions a curse, Joxer … um, Jacques S’er … pops up. But you’re right, Mel. He’s always been a brave, loyal friend.”
“Yeah,
yeah. Interesting footnote. Let’s talk about what’s really
important.” Janice led the way back to
camp. When they’d made themselves
comfortable on the ground, she continued, “Those moving pictures mean the
scrolls’ll set history straight. Prove
to folks in other centuries our heroes were more than myth.” She smirked at the clones. “That you two really exist. And Mel and I have a destiny beyond even our
fathers’ grasp.”
Nikki
smiled. “Maybe our side trip wasn’t
such a ‘mistake’ after all.”
“Uh
huh. I’m thinkin’ we’re done
here.” Alex scanned the horizon. “At least, this phase of our …
miscalculation.”
“Y’all
leavin’?” Mel’s face crinkled in
disappointment. “We were just gettin’ acquainted.”
“Mm. Interesting footnote.” Nikki rubbed her
nose. “Perhaps even more important, you
were just getting to know yourselves?”
Janice
exchanged a sheepish glance with Mel.
“Um, yeah, we do have some unfinished business.”
“Hey,
you know what?” Nikki beamed. “We could try looking you up. After we’re back in our century? Lots of people live into their seventies and
eighties.”
“Yeah,
well, don’t be checkin’ out some nursing home.
I plan to be roamin’ around until I drop.”
“Ditto.” Alex pulled a little box from the cleft
between her breastplates. “With a boost
from our time machine, if we get it to work.”
“Our
feet, if we don’t.”
“Or
….” Alex grinned at motorcycles that
had been left behind. “Good old
fashioned ‘horse’ power.”
“Sure
you don’t wanna borrow some of our clothes?”
Janice scowled at the warrior costumes.
“Nah. Whatever the time or place, doesn’t seem to
matter much. Even 21st
Century folks figured we must be actors.”
“I’m
so glad we met,” Mel said, hugging Alex and Nikki.
“Likewise.” Janice shook her heroes’ hands. She smirked. “Gave me an idea for what to wear if I ever get lost.”
Laughing,
the time travelers headed arm in arm for the cycles. They mounted and waved, Alex shouting, “Heeyah!” as they
putt-putted off and disappeared in clouds of dust.
Mel
sighed. “I really will miss them. So much I wanted ta ask.”
“Yeah. Guess we’ll never know ….” Janice slapped her cheek. “What’m I saying?” She ran to her truck.
“All this excitement, I forgot ….”
She reached into the cab and pulled out her knapsack. “We’ve got the …. Boots?!” She dumped out
the other contents, horrified to see clothing, an assortment of toy guns, a
rubber knife, fake ID’s, and other items that could be …. “Arghhhh!”
“Janice?” Mel came over to gape at the pile. “What – .”
“Kleinman!”
“What?”
“Jack
Kleinman! That Jacques S’er
character!” Janice banged the empty
backpack against her truck. “Idiot took
the wrong one!”
Mel
gasped. “Yours? With the scrolls?”
“Stupid,
stupid, stupid! He is a curse,
just like they thought!”
“Janice,
calm down.” Mel looked thoughtfully
into the distance. “Those moving
pictures they mentioned? About the
Warrior Princess? That means the
scrolls get to the future somehow.
Maybe that’s his destiny? To
keep the stories alive? If not him,
maybe a descendant?”
“All
my work. That fraud gets the
credit?” Janice kicked Kleinman’s
stuff. “We could end up in a nursing
home for real, before we learn what was in those scrolls.”
Mel
climbed unto the truck bed. “Does it
matter that much?” she asked, long legs swinging back and forth.
“Of
course it matters! Isn’t that why we’re
here?”
“Maybe
you.” Mel studied the hands in her
lap. “I came ta help. Do some translatin’.” She raised her eyes. “Didn’t expect it ta be of you. Or me.”
Janice
crossed her arms. “What’re you saying.”
Mel
took a deep breath. “We meant ta get
out from our daddies’ shadows. Do we
trade those in for more? Xena’s? Gabrielle’s? Isn’t this a chance to be more … ourselves? Who we want ta be? Start fresh scrolls, like Nikki and Alex?”
“Hmph. I see what’s goin’ on. You got to do your Xena thing. Standing up to those thieves. Shed your spoiled brat image.” Janice adjusted her holster as if she
considered this deep conversation no big deal.
“Yeah, you can do all right on your own. Even I can see that.
Don’t need my shadow anymore either, huh?”
Mel
chewed her lip. “Guess that
depends. If ya think all it means is
protection.”
Janice
took a deep breath, determined this time to be more careful with her
words. “Listen, I … um …. You’re a good kid. Gutsy. Somebody else
might’ve wilted under what you’ve been through.” She allowed a lopsided grin.
“Tough broad like me can appreciate that. Watchin’ somebody spread her wings. One of the few things I can be proud of, if I helped.” She extended her hand. “I’m glad to have made your acquaintance,
Melinda Pappas. You’ll go far, whatever
you put your mind to.”
Mel
glanced at Janice’s hand but didn’t extend her own. “Kind of ya to say, but yer not gettin’ rid of me that easy,
Janice Covin’ton.” She stuck out her
chin. “I got what I’ve always wanted. Adventure.
Ta put my education ta good use – not behind a desk. Learnin’ by bein’ active in the world. Riskin’ a run in my stockin’s.” She held Janice’s eyes. “More than spreadin’
my wings, it’s been stumblin’ inta somebody I can fly with.”
“Yeah?” Janice swallowed. “That ‘together’ stuff.
You saying it’s still on?”
Mel
hopped down from the truck. “I get ta
drive sometimes?”
Janice
suppressed a grin. She tilted her hat
to rakish angle. “I get to smoke while
you do?”
Mel
removed her spectacles and rubbed them against her shirtsleeve. “Even spit.
Long as you do `em down wind.”
“Hmmm.” Janice scratched her cheek. “Okay, sweetheart. You got yourself a deal.”
Mel
grinned. “I’d venture ta conclude we’re
done here. Where next?”
“Whichever
direction, if our ‘new’ luck holds true?”
Janice snorted. “My gut says to
keep our eyes open for any weirdoes wearing a mustache.”