"You're crazy, Jim. You don't know who may be on the other end waiting for you."

Jim knew the risk, the craziness of it, but he was intrigued, and he fully intended to go through with this, even if his best friend said otherwise. He smiled. "You've spent no time with this woman, Matt."

"Neither have you. You know her only from chat room conversations on the Net. You don't even know if the picture she e-mailed you is really her. It could be a friend acting as a stand-in. My God, do you have any idea what you're doing?"

Jim started the engine of his Corvette. He loved the sound of it. He took his alien-eyes sunglasses off the dash and slipped them on.

"Damn, Jim, when are you going to grow up?" Matt stepped away from the car. "Go ahead, then. Make a total fool of yourself. Disappoint yourself."

Jim scowled teasingly from behind the glasses. "I never disappoint myself. You ought to know that by now." He pushed the clutch against the floorboard and revved the engine.

"How are you going to know her? You're heading off to the Valu Mall parking lot to continue a relationship with a woman you've never even seen."

"And I just may find myself the girl of my dreams. Jealous, are we?" He popped the clutch, and as he squealed away, he glanced into the rearview mirror to see his well meaning friend standing in the dust.

When he reached the parking lot his Internet friend and he had agreed on, he drove slowly up and down the aisles of cars, craning his neck, looking for the one clue she had offered him. She told him she had a wild set of wheels, but that was all she had told him.

Well . . . this would be easy. He began looking for a hot convertible with an incredibly beautiful woman sitting in it. If the woman looked like her picture, it would be only a matter of time before he found her. Let's see, upon meeting her what would he do first? He would introduce himself, gallantly bow, kiss her hand, and then proceed to sweep her off her feet.

Suddenly he jammed the brakes. "Hey!" he yelled. "Watch where you're going!" A woman in a power wheel chair was slowly driving through the aisle of cars.

"Watch it yourself, damn it!" the woman yelled. "I've got the right of way!"

Jim took his glasses off and threw them onto the floor. "Just who . . . ?" He stopped in mid sentence. The woman gawked at him and he knew he was gawking back. "You're . . . ?"

"Looks like it, doesn't it?" the woman said. "Go home. You're not my type."

He sat very still. "I didn't mean to . . ."

"I know. This was a bad way to introduce myself. I should have been honest with you from the beginning. I apologize. Now that that's out of the way, go home."

"Wait a minute," Jim said furiously. "Are you turning me down?"

"You might say that. I'm turning you down before you turn me down. There. I beat'cha to it." The woman put her power chair in reverse and began to back away from him.

"Hold on." Jim put his finger up. "I'm going to park the car. Hold on." He pulled forward, and was relieved to see an available parking spot eight cars down. He pulled it in the slot and got out of the car. Looking around and seeing no one, he picked up his sunglasses and angrily jammed them on his face. Then he half trotted, half ran to where he had seen her last. "There you are. Stop, damn it. Stop."

The woman wheeled her chair around and glared at him. "Take those stupid sunglasses off your face. If you want to talk to me, act like a human being. Don't try to intimidate me. Take them off."

Jim stood, frozen to the pavement.

"Well?"

He pulled the glasses off and tucked them into the inner pocket of his leather jacket. "Better?"

"Much," she said. "Much better."

"Maybe we could go have something to drink inside."

"You don't have to patronize me, James. That's your real name. Right? . . . James?"

"Is Marilyn your real name?"

"Yes."

"Then, Marilyn, let's stop yelling at each other and sit down and . . ."

"And what?"

"Why are you so suspicious of me? I've just met you. You don't have anything to be suspicious about. Or angry about, for that matter."

"No, I suppose I don't. But somehow I pictured a different person than the one you're presenting to me."

"How different?"

"Well, for one thing, I didn't think you'd be such a hot shot. I can't deal with hot shots. This should be obvious to you by now."

"Wait a minute. I'll be right back. Please don't leave. You owe me this much. Please don't leave."

Marilyn sighed. "I won't leave."

Jim quickly walked back to his car. He shucked his leather jacket and laid it across the seat. Then he unclipped the gold chain from around his neck and put it safely away in the glove box. He went back to where Marilyn was waiting for him. "Ta da!" He threw out his arms and half clicked his heels.

"Well, you're half handsome without all that clutter."

Jim bowed. "Thank you. I try."

He said nothing while he walked beside her as she deftly drove her chair toward the entrance of the mall. "Do you speak?" Marilyn asked directly. "Are you uncomfortable with my power chair?"

Jim pulled the door open for her as she drove in, then opened the inner door for her. "Are you always this combative? I swear to God I've known you five stinking minutes and you've managed to beat me down to less than two feet high."

"I'm sorry. I'm very nervous and I'm acting like a jerk."

"Don't be sorry." He smiled. She smiled back. He liked her. She was feisty and she held her ground. He liked her. "Are you up for some onion rings? There is a terrific place . . ."

Before he could finish the sentence, Marilyn turned left. "This way," she said.

"Dang it, Marilyn, will you let me be the man here? Will you let me take you to where we want to go?"

"Sorry. I'm used to doing for myself. I'll be quiet."

"No," Jim said, frustrated. "I don't want you to be quiet. Just relax with me. Just relax. I don't bite." He briefly put his hand on the back of hers. He felt her react. He was pushing her, and this woman was not one to be pushed.

When they arrived at the restaurant, Jim led the way to a booth. He looked at Marilyn, confused as to how to treat her. She sat proudly in her high tech power chair. "Uh, do you want to sit in your chair while we eat, or, uh, could I . . ."

Marilyn looked at him. "No, I'll stay in . . ." He could sense the wheels suddenly turning in her brain. "I must be nuts. I've only known you for a grand total of ten minutes, but I can sit in the booth if you help me out of the chair. If you don't mind doing that, I'll let you."

Without hesitation, Jim picked her up and set her on the padded bench of the booth. "I, uh, suppose I should sit across from you." What was he getting himself into? This woman was a disabled person. She was limited in so many things she could do with him. She couldn't dance. She couldn't go jogging with him. She couldn't carry on with the same physical ease he experienced. She might not even be able to have sex with him. He had wanted to sit next to her.

"That's good. Sit across from me, James. If you sit next to me you'll try to do everything for me. I have reasonably good upper body strength, and I can actually feed myself, in case you want to know."

"I was not implying you were helpless," Jim said. He knew his voice was straining from sheer frustration. He felt helpless. This woman was tough to deal with. He sat down on the other seat.

"Truce, James." She reached across the table and caught his hand. "Sorry. Truce. I get on people's nerves, I know. It's just me. It's the nature of the disability. I'm always on the defensive, always trying to prove myself."

They ordered onion rings, this particular food chain's specialty. Jim was pleased she didn't try to fight him on the food order.

"What do you do?" Marilyn asked, as she took a finger full of onion rings off the plate and put them on her own.

"You mean, what do I do for a living?"

"Yeah. Does your rich daddy give you an allowance so you can drive Corvettes and intimidate girls with your very expensive and very weird sunglasses?"

Jim put his hand to his eyes. "Lord, woman, will you give me a break here? Can we have a reasonable conversation?"

"Sorry. Cheap shot. I'll restate my question. What is your career?"

"I'm a programmer."

Marilyn leaned forward. "A computer programmer?" she asked, unbelief registering in her eyes.

Jim smiled. "A computer programmer. I design and write computer applications for desktop publishing, among other things."

Marilyn's jaw dropped. "Did you have anything to do with writing a digital art program named Super Vector?"

Jim grinned now. "Yeah, as a matter of fact. I was one of the chief designers on that project."

"I'm amazed, Jim. I'm amazed for two reasons. First off, you don't look like you have the self discipline required to design something like that."

"And the second reason?"

"The second reason is that I use Super Vector every working day."

"So what do you do with your time?"

"With my time? You think I don't work to support myself but instead just wile away my time? Is this what you think?"

There was an edge to Marilyn's voice that Jim had regretted putting there, even though it wasn't intentional. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded, Marilyn. I'm . . . I'm sorry. Really . . . I . . . uh . . . apologize."

Marilyn sighed deeply. "No, I should be the one to apologize." She put her hands up in the universal sign for 'enough'. "I am," she began in a forced civil tone, "a website designer. I design sites for big companies and I charge and get very hefty prices. It seems you and I are in the same general business."

"How interesting," Jim said.

"Ask your next question."

"What?" Jim was uncomfortable now.

"I'll answer it. Spina Bifada."

"I'm confused," Jim said. "I'm confused. What are you talking about?"

"I was born with Spina Bifada. That means my spine was still open when I came out of my mother. Vital connections weren't made, neurologically speaking, and that's why I've lived my entire life in one kind of wheel chair or another."

Jim didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry," he said.

"I knew that was coming. People always say they're sorry when I explain it to them. I can't afford that kind of attitude, Jim. If you really are sorry for me, we'll never get past first base."

Not knowing what else to say or do, Jim flagged the waiter. "Would you please refill our Coke glasses?"

When the waiter had refilled the glasses and walked away, Jim said, "I don't pity you, Marilyn, if that's what you think. I just feel bad that you've had to live your life this way. You obviously cope well. I've been running for my life from the moment I met you." He smiled, trying to comfort her through his expression.

She took a swallow of Coke and then carefully set the glass down on her napkin. "I don't think we should see each other again, Jim. I don't know if you planned on wanting to see me again, but just in case you were, this isn't going to work."

Jim lightly chewed on the backs of his knuckles while keeping eye contact with her. "What would you say if I told you I very much want to see you again?"

"Don't, Jim. This was foolish from the start."

"It's not foolish. I like you. What's wrong with liking you?"

"There's nothing wrong with it. That's the problem. I like you too. But sooner or later the questions and doubts will begin to nag at you. You'll begin to look at me as an incomplete person. You'll look at me as an inconvenience. I'll be someone you'll have to be constantly nursing. And that will get old. I guarantee you, this will become a pain in the rear to you far faster than you realize now."

"I want to see you again. I will see you again."

"No, you won't. You don't know where I live. You don't even know my last name. And I'm giving you neither. Go home, Jim. You're really not my type."

"How will you get home? Do you have someone to take you home?"

"I drive, Jim. I have my own van. I can go anywhere I want, and if you would be so kind as to put me back in my chair, I'll go pay for both of us. Then I'm going home. And if you follow me, that will really tick me off. Are we communicating here?"

Jim picked Marilyn up and put her back in her chair. "I really like you, Marilyn." Jim felt sick at heart. This meeting hadn't gone well and he wasn't sure if it was his fault or hers. Maybe they were both to blame.

Marilyn smiled briefly and drove her chair to the cash register. She turned and mouthed the words. 'Nice meeting you. Go home now.'

---

"You don't want to get involved with someone like that, Jim. Leave it alone."

They were on their lunch break. It was a warm summer day and Jim and his very good friend Matt were sitting at a picnic table on the campus of Xenon Software. "I like her. Her physical disability at first scared me a little. I felt uncomfortable with her. I didn't know how to act with her. I was unconsciously treating her as if she were a leper. And I was so cocky when I met her. No wonder she doesn't want me to see her again. I've really screwed this up." He took a bite of his very bad fast food hamburger.

"Look, Jim, we both know your cockiness is just a front to cover your own insecurities. Surely she could see that."

"Oh, thanks a lot for pointing out my weaknesses, best friend. I really needed that comment in the worst way."

"Come on, man, you know it's true. You're a great guy. If you weren't, I wouldn't give you the time of day. I can overlook your strutting and your cocky facade most days, but if you really like Marilyn, then go after her. But cut the phony side of you. And think very hard about what you are for sure getting yourself into."

"What would I be getting myself into? She's a great person."

"I'm sure she is. But it seems to me that whenever a person with normal abilities becomes involved with and maybe even marries a person who requires a lot of physical assistance, the relationship can become one-sided pretty damned quick. Think about that, Jim. The able-bodied one does all the work."

"There's more to a relationship than that, I hope." What was he getting himself into?

"Of course there is, but the work you'll end up doing will totally overshadow your love for her."

Jim wiped his face with his napkin, stuck his leavings in the bag the food came in, and got up. He opened the trash container near by and tossed the bag into it. "Let's get back to work."

During the next five days Jim tried to reconnect with Marilyn. He'd sit down at his computer every night, connect with the Internet, and go into the chat room where they had first met. But she never logged on. He pleaded with her to talk to him, but as time passed he suspected she never even looked to see if he was there. Heartsick, he found himself having trouble sleeping. And going to work everyday no longer enthused him. There was one outside chance that he would find her. It was exactly one week ago that he had met her here on this parking lot. There was a chance, albeit small, that she may show up on this day again. Jim had no assurance this would happen. It was only a hope he had. They had met at 5:30 in the afternoon and it was now 5:30. He was out of his car, standing on the asphalt, praying she would come to him. He waited five minutes, then ten minutes. This was crazy. He knew he'd lost her. He was going home. No woman was worth this kind of pain. As he put his hand on the door handle, he heard a woman yell, "Don't you dare get into that car!"

He turned and grinned when he saw her. She came flying up to him in her high tech power chair. "Where are you going?" she asked.

"Nowhere."

"That's good, because I wanted to talk to you."

"Well, we could go inside and talk. Would you like to do that?"

"Yes. I very much would like to do that."

"Let's go, then."

Marilyn turned her chair and started across the parking lot while Jim half ran to keep up. "Wait," Marilyn said. She skidded to a stop and looked up at him, squinting against the late afternoon sun's glare.

"What?" Jim said, out of breath.

"Where's your leather jacket?"

"I thought you didn't like my leather jacket?"

"I didn't, but now I do."

"I'll go get it, then."

"Yeah, go get it. And bring your glasses too."

"What?! You're making me crazy. You didn't like my glasses."

"I didn't, but now I do."

Jim blew out his breath loudly. "Is there anything else you'd like me to bring?"

"No. That'll do it. Just hurry up."

Jim ran back to the car, pulled on his jacket and stuck on his glasses. Then he ran back to her. He threw out his arms and half bowed. "Ta da," he said.

"Better. You look better. If you're gonna act like a hot shot, then at least dress the part."

"I'm not a hot shot," Jim said gently. "If I were, and if you really believed that I am, you wouldn't have shown up today."

"True."

They went inside. "Would you like to get something to eat?" Jim asked.

"We could, but I'm not very hungry. If you are, we can get something." She looked up at him. "It's your call."

"All right. Let's go down to the fountain. We can talk there."

They slowly meandered their way through the mall until they came to a large, bubbling fountain set into the middle of the crossing square. The mall wasn't busy, but there were the usual number of families with children in strollers along with a few elderly people who were obviously walking for exercise. Jim sat down on the end of a bench and Marilyn pulled up to him and faced him. "Well," she said, "this is very pleasant."

"Is this because I'm here with you or are you just making a general statement about fountains in malls?"

"Both, hot shot." She reached for him and carefully took his glasses off his face. "You won't need these until we go back outside, will you?"

"No," he said. He felt his blood pulse through him.

She pulled open his jacket and tucked his folded up glasses into the inside pocket. Then she patted his chest where the glasses were. "Now they're safe."

This woman was bothering him very much. She was a wonderfully attractive woman. And she was an experience he couldn't explain, even to himself. Marilyn had a beautiful face with kind brown eyes set into it. Her auburn hair was shoulder length, and her whole upper body was strong and beautifully proportioned.

"I exercise a lot."

"What?" She was leaving him in the dust again with her answers without questions.

"You're looking at my body. I'm flattered. I exercise a lot. I exercise within the range of my physical strength. I love to do that. It makes me feel good when I exercise and it makes me feel good because I can look at myself in the mirror and see a reasonably attractive woman."

"Your attraction runs deeper than the physical, Marilyn."

"That's nice of you to say."

"Look, I feel bad that I so thoroughly made an ass of myself the other day."

"You didn't make an ass of yourself, Jim. It was my fault. Sometimes I don't cope with my physical problems very well. I try too hard to be normal. I'm not normal. I never will be normal. I want you to know that I would love to be friends with you, but I'll be satisfied with whatever the friendship turns out to be. I'm realistic about my situation. I don't pity myself, but sometimes I become very angry with my state of being. I should not take it out on you. I'm sorry."

Jim smiled. "Since you insist on apologizing, I accept your apology."

They talked for a long time. In fact, they were still talking when the lights blinked on and off as a signal that the mall was about to close. They slowly strolled back out to the parking lot. "Come see my van," Marilyn said.

"Sure; where is it?"

"Over there." She pointed to a red van parked just three rows down from Jim's Corvette. They went to it and she pulled up along its right side. "Got to go home. I've got a lot of work to do tomorrow. Big client on my back. Big bucks at the end. Got to finish the job tomorrow." She pushed a button on her key chain. The side door slid open and the loading platform slowly ground its way down to the road. "Want to come see my operation?"

"I'd love to," Jim said. "Where do you live?"

"I'll go home and draw you a quick map with the help of Super Vector. Then I'll e-mail it to you tonight."

"Uh, can't you just tell me the directions? I follow directions well."

Marilyn laughed. She patted his sunglasses pocket. "Don't worry, hot shot. I promise I'll e-mail you as soon as I get home." She backed her chair onto the loader, pushed another button, and the platform lifted her into the van. As she shifted her chair to move into the driver's space, and as the platform retracted and the side door closed, Jim opened the right front door so he could still talk to her. "Don't forget to e-mail me."

Marilyn laughed again. Her infectiousness was killing him. "Patience, hot shot. Go home and read your e-mail. I'll see you tomorrow. Now close the door." He closed it. She grinned, put the van in gear, and backed out of the parking space.

---

The house was nice, at least from the outside. There was a ramp leading up to the front door, so he was sure this was the right house. He walked up the ramp and rang the doorbell. A woman greeted him, but it wasn't Marilyn. "Hello," Jim said. "I'm Jim Cutler. I've come to see Marilyn. Is she home?"

"Why, yes. I'm Mary's mother." The woman put out her hand. "Very nice to meet you, Jim."

"Nice to meet you as well," Jim said.

"Is that Jim?" he heard Marilyn call.

"Yes, dear. I'm bringing him to your office." The woman said to Jim, "My name is Katherine, by the way." Katherine led Jim to the back of the house. They arrived at an open door and Jim peeked into it. "Nice office," Jim said.

"Thanks. I like it."

The room had two computers in it. There were bookshelves filled with manuals, and print-outs lay strewn about in what Jim perceived to be some kind of order.

"Yeah," Jim said, "this is really nice."

Marilyn glanced at her mother. "Oh," her mother said, "Well, I'll leave you two alone. Nice to have met you, Jim."

"You also," Jim said, nodding a smile.

When Marilyn's mother left, they began to giggle softly. "Mother is uncomfortable with this. I don't exactly have men beating down my door and she doesn't know how to act."

"I can understand that." Jim stood, slightly uncomfortable at being on Marilyn's turf. "Maybe I should have left my jacket in the car. I'm afraid I might not have made a good impression on your mother."

Marilyn laughed quietly. "My mother loves you already," Marilyn whispered. "Close the door so I don't have to whisper."

Jim quietly closed the door. Then he sat down. "Quite a mess in here. That means you're working. That means you don't just spend time in here. He emphasized the word "time," making an exaggerated face, bringing back that horrible conversation they had suffered through previously when Marilyn had so thoroughly berated him.

"You're a nut case, Jim. I swear, you are a bona fide nut case."

"Face it, Marilyn, that's why you think I'm so damned cute."

Marilyn sat back as if evaluating him. "Hmmm, you may be right. I just may be attracted to nut cases. By the way, most people call me Mary. I thought it might be a good idea to tell you that right off."

"I'm glad you did, Marilyn. The name Marilyn twists up my tongue and ticks me off," he teased. He laughed softly.

Mary smiled and turned to the computer that was booted up. "Let me show you what I'm doing." She clicked the mouse and moved windows around until she had the one she wanted. Then she double-clicked the "index.html" file. "There." The file opened and the introductory screen of a website appeared.

"That's my company!" Jim said, awed. The name, 'Xenon Software', was at the top of the screen in a glowing purple font. "This is terrific, Marilyn, uh, Mary. This is really fine work. Your menu is nicely done."

"Super Vector," she said. "Your program."

"Yeah. But we just design the programs. I couldn't use it to that advantage. This is highly professional work."

"I'm almost finished with it. I have to call your boss tomorrow and knock out a few fine points, but other than that, it's about finished."

"Have you ever been to Xenon?"

"No. I've wanted to pay your boss Viktor Sanders a visit, but he is one of these overprotective types that tries to make it easy for me."

"Would you like to meet him in person?"

"Love to. But he's adamant about doing this on the phone. I put up on my test site what I've done so far, and then he looks at it from his computer. Then he tells me what he wants added or changed. It works out okay. This is the biggest client I've ever had and I want to do a stellar job for him."

"Why don't you come to Xenon tomorrow? I'll introduce Viktor to you. And if you come at lunch time, I'll have an excuse to take you out to lunch."

"Well . . . uh . . . yes, I like that idea very much. Do you think Viktor would mind? He seems nice on the phone, but . . ."

"He'd love to meet you. You're right, Viktor is a caring person, and it's typical of him to want to make things comfortable for you."

"Then I'll be there at . . . what time do you think I should be there?"

"How much do you two have to talk about?"

"It would probably take an hour or so."

"How about ten thirty?"

"Great. The deal's done. I'll even let you pay for my lunch."

"I think we're making progress here."

---

"Viktor is a very nice man."

"I know." Mary had passed Jim the ketchup and Jim was slathering his french fries with it. He capped it and set it on the table. "He's a very easy man to work for. Say, you made quite an impression on the staff this morning. You should have come in weeks ago. Then we would have known each other longer."

"Just what do you mean by that remark, nut case?"

"Well, I guess I mean that I really enjoy your company and I only wish we could have known each other a long time ago."

"There were others I met in that chat room, you know," Mary said teasingly.

"Other guys?"

"Yes. Several, in fact."

"So why did you pick me?"

"I picked you because I could tell you were a decent, sincere person. The other guys were shoveling on the bull and I knew it."

"But when we first met, you thought I was a hot shot."

"No, I knew you weren't a hot shot. That's what made me so angry. I knew you were trying to impress me with your expensive jacket and Corvette."

"And you didn't like my glasses. Don't forget the glasses." Jim smiled warmly.

"You're right, I didn't like your glasses. I still don't, but they do make you look kind of . . . well . . . kind of cool sometimes. I can stand them on you once in awhile."

"Then I can keep the glasses?" Jim grinned and popped a french fry into his mouth.

"You can keep the damned glasses."

"Good." Jim paused, then abruptly said, "I want to take you to a movie."

"Oh, I don't know about a movie, Jim."

"That's where everyone goes on a first date. It's safe. It's fun. It's what we do on first dates."

I'm a real bother to those who sit behind me, Jim. The back of my chair is high, and the few times I've tried to go has been a disaster for me. When I realized my chair was a visual obstruction, I began parking against the back wall behind all the seats. I might as well watch the movie on my TV screen."

"Hmmm. There's got to be a way to overcome that problem." Jim scratched his chin in thought.

"I've tried several different approaches. One time I parked down in front of all the seats, but I parked against a side wall so others could see by me. That didn't work because the screen was so distorted from that angle I couldn't enjoy the film."

"That's it." Jim put his hamburger down. "We'll go down to where you just said. Then I'll carry you to a theater seat. We can even sit in the middle, if you like. Can you sit in a theater seat comfortably?"

"Well, I don't know. I've never tried that."

Jim could see Mary fidgeting in mild panic but becoming enthused with this new possibility at the same time. "Then you'll go with me?"

"I'll look stupid with you carrying me in front of all those people, Jim."

Jim put his hand on the back of hers. He felt comfortable in doing that now. She didn't pull away from him. "You won't look stupid. The theater goers will see two people who really care about each other. It will be good for them to see that. We may be able to present a moral lesson to them."

"Nut case, you always seem to have a way to make me feel comfortable."

"Then you'll go with me?"

"Yes. But I have to drive."

"Fine. Let's go tonight. You pick me up and I'll take care of the details."

---

It was fun riding with Mary. She was an excellent driver. The van had been rigged with levers that gave her precise control with accelerating and braking. He felt safe with her driving him. "I'll take you for a ride in my 'vette sometime," he said.

Mary turned to him. "I, uh, don't ride well in cars. Sorry."

"Well, that's all right." He smiled. "I like riding with you."

It was a week night-Thursday-so the parking lot wasn't filled with many cars when they arrived. Jim thanked God for that because if Mary was to be embarrassed at him carrying her to her seat, the fewer the patrons, the better.

They went in; Mary let him pay. More progress. "Would you like some popcorn?" he asked.

"Yes."

"And a soda?"

"Yes."

"Are you nervous about me carrying you to your seat?"

"Yes."

He tried to give her a smile of reassurance.

They made their way slowly down the aisle to the front. "This is good, Mary. Park it here."

She backed her chair against the wall. He could see her pale face even in the semi darkness. "Let's leave your drink and popcorn in your chair and I'll," he stooped down, "put my stuff on the floor."

"Jim, I'm becoming very apprehensive about this. Perhaps we should forget it."

Jim got down on his haunches so his eyes were level with hers. "We can stay here if you like. I don't care. But I think you are making a mistake."

"You don't have to do this for me, Jim."

"I want to do this for you. I'll do it quickly and smoothly. I doubt if anyone will even pay attention."

She hesitated.

"Would you rather drive your chair to the seat and then I can help you transfer to the seat?"

"No . . . Then I'll really be obvious."

"So . . . is it a go?"

"It's a go," she said.

Jim stood up and leaned over her. "Now, just be quiet when I transfer you. Don't give me a bunch of orders like you usually do," he said.

"I won't."

"First row, center?"

She put her arm up and wrapped it around his neck. "Yeah, first row, center."

"Okay, here we go." He picked her up as carefully as if she were made of glass. He was strong, and carrying her was easy for him. He glanced quickly at the people in front. They weren't looking at him. Only a few steps took them to front row, center, and Jim gently put Mary into the seat. He again got down on his haunches. He helped her adjust her feet on the floor. Her legs hadn't developed as well as her upper body, and the closest she could come to walking was when she wore her leg braces with the knees locked. She could walk haltingly on crutches; at least well enough to get out of her chair and go to the bathroom. Jim hadn't seen her do this. She had only described it to him in a previous conversation. "Comfortable?"

"Very. Thank you."

"Thank you for letting me help you," Jim said. It wasn't pity he felt for Mary. Rather, it was respect and admiration for a woman who had everything going against her. "I'm going to get our popcorn." He got up and retrieved the popcorn and drinks. Then he sat down next to her.

"That was quite an experience," she whispered.

"Would you be willing to experience that particular experience again?"

"Yes," she said.

"Good. We'll share that experience again."

---

The next three weeks were the happiest of Jim's life. He had fallen madly in love with Mary. He had kissed her only a few times, and he continued to treat her with the greatest respect. They both had become somewhat comfortable in working through Mary's physical barriers. He was careful to help just enough, but often he found himself cringing for her as she made gigantic physical efforts to do the simplest things. It was during those times that he was sure he made her uncomfortable with his over attentiveness.

They went to different places and had wonderful experiences. They were patient with each other. Mary's direct, bossy ways, had disappeared at the same rate that she was falling in love with him.

"I have an idea," Jim said. They were sitting in a park, eating fast food fried chicken.

"I'm afraid to ask what this idea might be," Mary said, laughing.

"Just listen to me. Don't say no until I finish telling you my idea."

"Okay, tell me."

"The weather is beautiful right now."

"That's your idea?"

"No. Let me finish. The weather is beautiful and we are heading into autumn and then to winter. We need to take advantage of these beautiful days. So I think we should go camping this weekend."

Mary dropped her drumstick on her paper plate.

"What did I say that shocked you so?"

"I know you mean well, Jim, but I'm afraid a trek like that would do me in."

"No, it wouldn't, Mary. It would be the best thing for both of us."

"I . . . don't know." She shook her head slowly and grimaced.

"Are you worried about you and I sleeping in the same tent? Is that it? We'll take two tents."

"Jim . . . ?"

"Please, Mary. Think about it. You know I'm capable of helping you. We've been going together for . . ."

"One month," Mary interrupted.

"So you don't trust me?"

"Of course I trust you. I'm surprised you would think I don't."

"Then what is it? You've been living in that chair all your life. Now it's time to get out of it."

Mary sat, silent. She twisted her paper napkin into knots while she sat. Finally she said, "Okay, I'll try it."

"Yay . . . !"

"Once," Mary interrupted. "I'll try it one time. If I have to struggle more than I think it's worth, we drop the idea."

"All right. Wonderful. One tent, or two?"

"Two."

---

Jim could live with the idea of two tents. He didn't want to crowd her. That was fine. He understood that. He was about to dial Matt and ask him if he could borrow an extra tent from him, when the telephone rang under his fingers. He jerked away from it, afraid that Mary was calling him to back out. "Hello?" he said, dreading it was her on the other end.

"Hello, Jim? This is Katherine, Marilyn's mother."

"Why hello, Katherine." He was fearful, now. "Is Mary all right?"

"Yes," Katherine said pleasantly. "She's fine, but she isn't here right now. That's why I wanted to call you. I didn't want her to hear what I'm about to tell you."

Jim couldn't begin to imagine what Katherine wanted with him.

"You see, I'm rather worried about Mary going camping with you."

"Oh, Katherine, you know I'll take good care of Mary."

"Of course you will. I'm not concerned about how you will treat Mary. I knew you were a good boy the first day I met you. It's just that Mary has had some frightening experiences when we would take her camping."

"She's been camping before?" Jim said, surprised. "She never told me this."

"I'm sure she didn't. Her father and I would take her camping almost every weekend when she was a child."

"Then why are you concerned for her now?"

"Because the nightmares she suffered while we were out in the woods finally became so traumatic for her we had to stop going."

"What kind of nightmares, Katherine?"

"The nightmares are difficult to describe. She would wake up screaming as if she was possessed. At first when we would go out, she would sleep the nights through. But as she got older, the nightmares she experienced gradually got worse. Finally her father and I just couldn't drag her through that anymore."

"I . . . don't know what to tell you. I don't want Mary to suffer with this. She wasn't overly thrilled I had come up with the idea in the first place."

"I don't want to spoil your fun, Jim."

"I know you don't. I'll talk to her about it. Don't worry. We'll work this out. Thanks for calling."

---

"I am an adult, Jim Cutler. If I told you I would go camping with you, then that's exactly what I'm going to do. I can't believe my mother interfered like this. I just can't believe this," Mary fumed. "What did you tell her?"

"I told her we'd work it out. She wasn't trying to meddle. She loves you and wants you to be comfortable and happy."

"Why can't she just let me work things out for myself? This disability gets in my way in so many ways. My mother smothers me with her love. Other adult children don't go through this."

"Of course they do. My parents love me, at times, almost to death. Your mother is no different. And with your father having passed away, she loves you even more. She thinks she has to love you for both of them."

"And I suppose she thinks now that you are in my life, you can be yet another one of my chief caretakers."

"That . . . is not fair, Mary. I really thought our relationship ran much deeper than that."

"It does." Mary clutched Jim's arm. "I'm sorry. Our relationship doesn't have anything to do with my disability. Forgive me."

"You're forgiven. But we don't have to go camping. It was only a suggestion on my part. I didn't even think you'd take me up on it and I'm happy that you have. But if being out there is going to trigger childhood trauma, then we should stay home."

"Jim, I'm an adult. Adults don't have nightmares. I outgrew those long ago."

"Tell me, is the reason you hesitated when I first asked you to go camping because you remembered those nightmares?"

"Yes. But when I thought about it, it was just silly to be concerned about it."

"I've borrowed an extra tent from Matt. Will you be comfortable sleeping by yourself in a tent?"

"If we set up the tents right next to each other-yes. Trust me, Jim, I won't have any problems with this. I want to get out of town. I want to get out in the woods again."

"Okay." He kissed her softly on her nose. "Okay, we'll give it a try. But if I hear the boogie man prowling around out there in the middle of the night, I'm running into your tent so you can protect me."

"Nut case."

The drive to the campgrounds was a pleasant one. Jim had brought his banjo, and he was gleefully ripping off bluegrass tunes while Mary was trying to drive without getting a mouth full of tuning keys. "Careful with that, or we'll be listening to your stunning banjo tunes from the ditch."

Jim put the banjo, head end, on the floor. "I like playing for you, Mary. You're so appreciative."

"I guess I should have brought along my guitar. Then we could have made some real music together."

"You didn't tell me you play the guitar."

"I do. I play the guitar as well as you play that banjo. And that's pretty good." Mary braked, then turned into the campsite entrance.

Jim dug into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. As Mary drove up to the gate, a forest ranger came to the car. "Two of you?"

"Yes," Mary said. "We plan on staying tonight, and tomorrow night. How soon do we have to be out of here on Sunday?"

"Anytime you like. Room isn't a problem on Sundays because more people are leaving rather than arriving. So for two nights that'll be thirty dollars for the both of you." As the ranger looked at Mary's driver's license and wrote down her social security number on the form he was filling out, Jim pulled thirty dollars out of his pocket."

"I'll pay for my half, Jim."

"No you won't. I'm the man. I pay."

"No, that's all right. I'll pay my share."

"No," Jim said, frustrated. "I will pay for both of us," he articulated slowly.

The forest ranger smiled. "I really don't care who's money I get. I'll take anybody's thirty dollars."

When Mary tried to take money from her purse, Jim stopped her. Then he handed the ranger thirty dollars.

"Have a nice time," the ranger said. He stepped back and waved them forward.

As Mary began to drive away, she said, "I would have gladly paid for my half."

"No," Jim said.

"Thank you very much, nut case."

"You are the most stubborn woman I've even known." He pointed out the window. "Way down there is a place. It's under some trees. See it?" He looked at her and grinned. "I love you."

"I love you too, Jim. And yes, I see it." She drove the van along the access path until she reached the spot they had agreed on, and then parked the van under a spreading oak. She switched off the engine and turned to look at him. "Probably a bad move to park the van under a tree full of birds. What do you think, banjo man?"

"I think that bird doo doo will come off in the car wash."

"Okay, then we'll leave it here." She continued to look at him with those liquid brown eyes he loved so much. "You never told me you loved me before. Did you mean it?"

"Did you mean it?" He met her steady gaze.

"You first."

"I've never been in love before, Mary. This is the real deal. I love you more than I thought it was ever possible to love a woman."

"Then help me through my fears, Jim. I've been living a solitary life. Just because I'm outgoing and sociable with others doesn't mean I've had men flocking to my door. I've never had an intimate friend before. I made an attempt once, but he wasn't made of the same stuff you are. He went running just as soon as my physical problems appeared. We had a grand total of two dates. And then you come along with your cocky, hot shot ways, and I think, who is this guy? He's not that same person who was so gentle in that chat room with me. But it took me less than five minutes to realize that it really was you." She put the flat of her hand against his chest. "And I fell in love with you at that very moment."

"So did I," he whispered. He kissed her then. He kissed her passionately. "Oh God, Mary, I love you so much."

She pushed him away. "Oh, my," she said. "Oh my, Jim. This is a brand new experience for me."

Jim was breathing heavily. "Do we have to analyze your experience? Can't we continue with your brand new experience?" he croaked.

"No," she said. She put her hands up and shook them, grimacing in frustration. "Give me some space."

"I didn't mean to push you."

She put her hand over her eyes and laid back against her chair. "You didn't push me. It's me that's running now. If I put my trust in you, if I give myself to you, and then if you at some point leave me, I couldn't bear it. I couldn't bear it, Jim. Do you understand what I'm trying so clumsily to explain?"

"I'm not going to leave you."

"That may be, but right now I don't know this. Give me some time to think all this through. Please."

"You can have all the time you want. Let's unload our camping gear."

"You're angry with me. I feel terrible now. You're ready and I'm not. What do we do about this? I don't know what to do about this."

Jim wiped a tear off her cheek. "First of all, Mary, we have to stop beating ourselves up. We have to look at things realistically and realize that when two people come together, it won't be at the same time. It never happens at the same time. I think that we boys are babies. I think we need to be nurtured more than girls. Boys usually fall head over heels in love first. Women don't need men as much as men need women. Give it time, Sweetheart. Give it time," he whispered. He kissed her softly and said, "Right now we have practical tasks to worry about."

"I know. I'm sorry, Jim."

"There is nothing to be sorry about. Our first order of business is to go back to the check-in station and give them your spare chair batteries and the charger."

"Oh, we were so preoccupied with who was going to pay that I forgot to ask the ranger."

"Well, turn this heap around," Jim said happily.

Mary drove to the gate and Jim got out. "Trouble already?" the ranger asked.

"No," Jim said. "No trouble. We brought along a spare pair of chair batteries and a charger. We were wondering if we could hook them up inside the station and then get them tomorrow evening. Mary will run down her regular set of batteries pretty quickly out on this rough ground."

"Why, sure. I'd be glad to help you out. Where are they?"

Jim pulled open the back door and handed the ranger the charger. "I'll help you bring all this in. This is a two man job."

When Jim came back to the van, he climbed in. "Let's go rustle us up some grub."

----

The evening was one of those glorious late summer evenings that everyone seemed to wait all summer for. They had already set up the tents and organized the camping gear, and now they were barbecuing hamburgers. The sun had set two full hours ago, and those campers surrounding Jim and Mary's campsite were so far away, they had disappeared in the black of early evening. "This is fun, Jim. I remember doing this as a child. They were among my happiest days."

For an instant, Jim was caught with the thought of why Mary would consider once again subjecting herself to sleeping in the timber and being visited by nightmares at the same time. He was fearful for her now. She was going to sleep in a separate tent. If he was with her he could comfort her. But under no circumstances would he push her to sleep with him. Mary had come a long way since they had first met, and Jim didn't intend to upset that delicate balance she seemed to have arrived at in her mind. And Jim was no fool. He realized that he had come a long way too. His devil-may-care hot shot attitude was amusing to others to a point. But Mary had shown him what real love was all about. She had brought out Jim's manhood, and Jim would be forever grateful, regardless of how their relationship might finally turn out.

"Hey, banjo man, you're gone. Where did you go just now?"

Jim jerked his hamburger away from the fire. "Just thinking. I was just thinking."

"Do you like your hamburgers that black, or should we try this again?" Mary took a raw hamburger off the plate. "Give me the spatula."

"Huh?"

"Listen, nut case, come back to me. I said give me the spatula."

Jim handed Mary the spatula and she put the patty on it. "Try again, banjo man."

Jim grinned and tried again.

When they were finished eating, Jim carried Mary to the blanket he had spread on the grass. They lay there together, and they talked far into the night. Suddenly a star appeared, seemingly from nowhere. It became extremely bright, then disappeared. Jim sat up. "What was that?"

"Ah . . . ah . . ."

"What's wrong, Mary?" There was terror in her voice.

"It was probably a meteor or asteroid, Mary. Quit clowning around; you're scaring me."

"Uhhhhhhhh . . . ."

"Stop it, Mary." He took her arms and felt her shaking. "This isn't funny anymore. Stop it."

She buried her head in his lap. "Help me," she moaned. "Please help me."

Jim helped her sit up, although she was fully capable of doing this herself. Something was very wrong, and Jim was terrified. He held her in his arms until she calmed enough to talk coherently. "Tell me Mary," Jim said. "Tell me."

"I . . . I don't know, Jim. I don't know what's wrong with me."

Jim held her away from him so he could make out her features in the light of the half moon. "I think we should go home."

"No," she said stubbornly. She shook her head. "No. I'm an adult. I have courage. I will not go running home and hide under the covers of my bed."

"I think you'd be more comfortable, Mary."

"If we went home, I could never face myself again."

"Maybe we should go to bed. You may sleep with me tonight. I promise I won't pressure you."

"These are my own devils, Jim. Whatever they are, I have to face them alone. I'll be all right."

"Okay, I'll help you get ready for bed." He picked her up and carried her to the porta potty and set her on it. He discreetly walked away while she relieved herself. When she was finished, he carried her to her tent. He had previously set the camping lantern in her tent, so he managed to take her in and lay her down on her air mattress with little fumbling or fuss. What can I do to help you, Sweetheart?"

"I don't need anymore help, thank you."

"You can undress yourself all right?"

"Damn it, Jim!" she flared. "You should know by now I'm not helpless! Cut me some slack!"

"I'm sorry, Mary. Of course I know you're not helpless. I'm just concerned for you."

She took his wrist and held it tightly. "I know you are. It . . . it would help me greatly if you could pull my jeans off."

He unlaced her shoes and pulled those off first. She unsnapped the waist band of her jeans and he slowly pulled them off as well. Then he folded them and put them aside. He looked at her legs now. He hadn't yet seen the full leg braces she wore everyday.

"I can do . . ."

"I'll do it, Mary," he interrupted. "Let me do this for you." He unfastened the velcro straps of her right brace first. Then he lifted her leg out of it. There were deep indentations in her leg muscles where the straps had interfered with the circulation. Her legs were fully a foot shorter than they would have been if they had developed as normally as her upper body. They were good for little more than helping her swing through crutches. He looked at her now. Her look of sadness was like a sword that was piercing through his heart. He bent to the task of massaging her leg.

"You don't have to . . ."

"I want to," Jim interrupted. "I want to make you feel better. Please let me."

"All right," she whispered.

When he had taken off the other brace and when he had massaged her legs until at least some of the deepness the straps had caused was gone, he said, "May I help you with anything else?"

Mary burst into tears. "Jim, you can do so much better than me. What are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere with me? You must be crazy. You can't live your life like this, taking my braces off me, putting me on the toilet, carrying me from place to place. I shouldn't be cluttering up your life like this."

Jim picked up the lantern and held it right next to his face. "Look at me, Mary. I'm no different than you-no different. I'm a person; you're a person. We are two human beings who have fallen in love with one another. Now just how lucky does that make us? Damned lucky. I wouldn't trade places with anyone on this planet. Not with anyone. And when you come to know this, when you truly come to believe it right down to the soles of your feet, you and I can begin our lives together. Don't sell me short, Mary. I'm not sticking with you because I want someone to take care of. I'm staying with you because you have been taking care of me just as I have been taking care of you. And when you understand that, we'll be fine. I'm going to bed now. I'm right next door. If you so much as peep with a bad dream, I'll be in here. Now stop your crying and let me go to bed."

He fluffed up her pillow and kissed her quickly. He didn't want to confuse her with sexual feelings on top of everything else that was surely going through her mind right now. "Remember, you peep, I'm here."

"All . . . all right." She put her hand on his face. "You're a good man, Jim. Good night."

"Good night." He crawled out of her tent and into his own.

In spite of the fact that he was upset, he fell asleep quickly. He stirred awake a time or two, but fell right back into sleep. Somewhere in the middle of the night he awoke with a start that frightened him to the point of paralysis. Someone was on top of him! Fear swept through him like a raging forest fire! He struggled with this horrible force that was trying to smother him with its body. He knew it wasn't a dream. This was a real event happening in real time. "Mary!" he called, "help me! Mary!" The body struggled off him and escaped through the tent's mosquito flap. He lay there, his heart pounding so hard he thought that any minute he would begin to spout blood from his pores. But it was quiet now. The intruder was gone. And he hadn't awakened Mary.

"Ohhh." He knew the groan was from Mary! He sprang from his bed and crawled out the tent flap and into Mary's tent. She clutched at him as he came to her side. "I didn't give it permission!" she cried. "I didn't give it permission!"

"Give who permission, Mary? Give who permission? Make sense. Who are you talking about?" He held her in his arms, trying to calm her trembling body. "Shhh, it's all right now, Mary. It's okay. I'm here. It's Jim. I'm here. It will be okay."

He slept with her through the rest of the night. When she would awaken, so would he. He would calm her and then they would again go back to sleep.

When daybreak came, Jim considered crawling back into his own tent before she awakened, but he decided that he wasn't going to have her wake up to an empty bed. "Jim?" Mary said sleepily.

"Good morning," he said tenderly.

"Good morning." She smiled at him and stretched. "Did I sleep well, or did I keep you awake all night?"

He looked into her eyes. They were eyes of innocence. Mary remembered nothing of what had happened to her. She didn't remember the nightmare she had, and thank God she knew nothing of whoever was in Jim's tent. He wasn't going to tell her any of this, he decided. Let things ride, he decided. Maybe everything would right itself and all of this would be his own bad dream. "You slept fine."

"I don't know why you are in my tent, but I don't want you to leave." She put an arm around him and rolled up against him.

Jim was on fire for her. The sun was just up and its rays were streaming through the trees at the lowest angle of the morning. He could see a diffused world through the mosquito flap-a diffused world belying the dangers that lay lurking within it. He wanted to become one with Mary. He wanted to make everything right for both of them so they could face the dangers of the world together. "Mary," he said. He turned his body into her and he kissed her. She didn't pull away this time. Her desire for him inflamed him to gentle action. With great love he slowly eased her into full blown passion. "May I?" he whispered.

"Yes. Please," Mary breathed excitedly. She yielded to him and he took her. They lay, locked into one another, and Jim didn't ever want to let her go.

It was mid morning and they were still in each other's arms. "I have a great idea," Jim said. He kissed the side of Mary's nose.

"What? What great idea might you have?" Mary looked radiant. Jim untangled himself from her arms. "You'll see." He pulled on his pajama bottoms and crawled out of the tent.

"What . . .?" she called after him.

"Oh, wait." Jim scrambled back into the tent and held out his open palm. "Keys please."

"The van keys?"

"No, the keys to the tent flap."

Mary playfully slapped him on the cheek, then dug into her purse and handed him her keys. Once again he scrambled out of the tent. He unlocked the van, got two bath towels, two wash cloths, a bar of soap, and a plastic bucket. He filled the bucket at the water faucet, then brought it all into the tent with him. "We are going to bathe each other," he announced with mock graveness.

"Oh, Jim, you are so romantic."

"No, just practical. I can't stand stinky girl friends," he said happily. He soaped up a wash cloth and with great love he washed Mary's entire body. He loved every square inch of her and he showed her his love with the most fundamental ritual of caring and nurturing. When he was finished, he handed her the other wash cloth. "Now it's your turn," he whispered.

He lay back as she gently washed every part of him. This woman was a high priestess. She took his heart and tucked it into her heart. She was magic, and when she was finished, he felt as if she had washed his soul.

The world had suddenly and miraculously opened for them. They were in love. They were out here on a campsite that was private and they could make love all day if they wished, or they could occupy themselves with a thousand other things if they wished. They did both; they did all.

As they settled down to eat their evening meal over an open fire, Jim couldn't help but marvel at how truly capable Mary was. He had been prepared to wait on her hand and foot, for the rest of his life if need be, but she didn't need or even want a faithful servant. She wanted Jim. She would have him. He was going to ask her to marry him.

"You're thinking too hard again, nut case."

"Does it show?"

"Yeah, it shows. The answer is yes."

"Dang, woman! You won't even let me ask you!"

She laughed and playfully ruffled his hair.

Jim put his finger in her face and said with pretended sterness, "We're going to do this right. I'm going to propose formally." Jim got down in front of her on one knee; in front of her high tech power chair where she sat like a queen, like a high priestess. He took both her hands in his and kissed them. "Will you marry me?" He felt himself beginning to cry. He loved her that much.

"Yes," she said. "Yes, I will marry you, Jim. I love you so much. So much" She leaned forward and kissed the top of his hair.

---

The next days were like a whirlwind that wouldn't stop. They were obsessed with each other. Jim, with the help of both Matt and Mary, built a chair ramp up to his front door. Although Mary didn't stay with him every night, she stayed with him often enough to satisfy their desire for each other. Jim was acutely aware of the deep love and connection Mary and her mother had for one another, and he was not about to interfere with that.

The memory of what happened on their first camping excursion seemed to fade from Jim's mind with each passing day. Usually so acutely aware of Jim's answers before he even asked the questions, Mary didn't seem to sense the uneasiness in Jim. With luck, the terrifying experience he had would disappear altogether.

Now they were lying on top of Jim's bed. Jim had just come home from work and Mary was already waiting for him, planning dinner. "I'd like to go camping again, Jim."

"When?" he asked.

"This weekend."

"Oh. Hmm."

"What's wrong? Don't you want to go?"

"Sure. Sure, we can go. I thought you wanted to go to Matt's party this weekend?"

"I did, but there will be plenty of parties to go to. We have the rest of our lives to go to parties, but it won't be many more weeks before it will be too cold to go camping." She propped herself on one elbow and idly ran her finger inside his shirt collar. "Of course, if you don't want to . . ."

"Of course I want to." He took her face between his hands and kissed her. "Of course I want to."

---

The air of early autumn was refreshing. The sun sifted through the foliage and left spots on the ground like gold dust in a sourdough's pan. They leisurely strolled among the trees until the sun began to set. "We'd better head back to our tent," Mary said. "I think it's going to be a bit cold tonight. I'm glad we had the presence of mind to bring plenty of blankets."

"Yeah."

"You seem distracted today, Sweetheart."

"I'm just tired," Jim said. "I'll be all right after a good night's sleep."

"You need a good hot meal. Come on, we'll start supper."

They ate casually, and when they were finished, they lay on a blanket and watched the stars come out.

They turned in early; Jim couldn't wait to take his high priestess to bed. They made gentle love to each other, crawled under the blankets, talked for a time, then fell asleep.

Jim didn't know what time it was when he awoke, but it was still pitch black in the tent. He couldn't see anything, but he could feel Mary stirring against him. Slowly, little by little, he realized that whoever was in bed with him wasn't Mary! Mary had good upper body strength, but she couldn't climb on top of him and move her legs against him. This person, whoever it was, was preparing to rape him!

He pushed upward on the intruder's body. "Mary! Wake up! Mary!" he screamed. The intruder bolted, and he heard the tent flap go up as it fled out of the tent. He scrambled wildly for the battery lantern. He found it and switched it on. Mary was gone!

He scrambled out of the tent taking the lantern with him because he knew there were other campers down the way and maybe he could enlist their help! His heart was pumping and fluttering pumping and fluttering frantic frantic frantic frantic he didn't know what to do he didn't know where to look! How had someone come in while they were sleeping, and then taken Mary out of the tent without him waking up? "Oh, God, oh, God!" His brain was spinning and the shadows the trees cast from the wildly swinging lantern in his hand looked like they were going to swallow him alive. His breath came and went in ragged gasps of fear. "Mary! Mary!" he called again.

"Jim! Jimmy, help me!"

Her voice came from the direction of the barbecue grate. "I'm coming, Mary! Oh God, I'm coming!" He found her on the ground, behind the brick barbecue grate. She was terrified and incoherent, mumbling strange sounds that made Jim's blood run cold. "Shhh, shhh." He tried to calm her. She clutched at him. He picked her up and carried her quickly back to the tent. "Shhh, Mary, it's all right now," he whispered. "It's all right now." His knees were so weak from fear, it was all he could do to lay her down without falling on top of her. "It's all right now." He held her until his hammering heart quieted. He stroked her hair and hugged her to him. She sobbed quietly in his arms.

---

"What a beautiful day this is," Mary said sleepily. "I slept wonderfully. How about you?"

Jim had awakened before her, but rather than wake her, he lay quietly, reliving the horror of the night before. Now he looked at her, trying to keep the look of amazement off his face. "I . . . I didn't sleep well at all."

"Oh?" She appeared to be puzzled. How could she be? he wondered. Surely she remembered her horrific experience in the middle of the night. "I would have thought that my superior love making would have put you out like a light."

"I . . . uh . . . woke up in the middle of the night and . . . uh . . . I couldn't get back to sleep. It was a long night." She hadn't remembered, then. He couldn't believe it. He was not going to mention it to her.

---

Jim picked up his ringing telephone. "Jim?" Jim immediately recognized Mary's mother's voice.

"Hello, Katherine. You sound troubled."

"I have to talk to you, Jim. The sooner the better. Now, I know that Mary won't be visiting you at work today because she is meeting with a new client. May I buy you lunch?"

"Sure, Katherine. Come take me to lunch."

The morning passed quickly, and when Jim looked up from his work, Katherine was standing in front of his desk. With little fanfare she showed him a paper carry-out bag. "I hope you like Chinese."

"I do."

They went to the outdoor lunch area and sat down at a table. The air was mild and comfortable. "Jim, first I want to tell you that I'm ecstatic that you and Mary are going to make a lifelong commitment to each other. I can't imagine anyone more suited for her than you."

"Why, thank you, Katherine. I consider that a high compliment."

"Good. It was an easy compliment to make. But I want to know something, and I want you to tell it to me straight."

This wasn't the almost fragile "Katherine" Jim had come to know. This woman was acting like Mary. No bull. No nonsense. "Tell you what straight?" He already knew what she was going to ask.

Katherine took a box of rice out of the bag and handed it to Jim. I think you know what I'm talking about."

"I think I do. You want to know if Mary has been suffering through any nightmares."

"Yes. Don't hide this from me, Jim. We both love Mary far too much to keep secrets from each other."

"She's been having nightmares," he admitted.

"In your house? In your bed?"

"No. When we go camping. That's when she has the nightmares."

"What else?"

"What do you mean, 'What else?'"

"There's more than just the nightmares, isn't there, Jim? There's more than just screams of terror in the middle of the night."

"I don't think we should discuss . . ."

"Look, I don't know how to tell you this but you and Mary are going to have a horrendous uphill battle with this. It's not simply going to disappear. It won't go away until you confront it."

"Does Mary know what's going on? She doesn't seem to remember anything the morning after she has one of these nightmares."

Katherine put down her fork and put her head in her hands. "I don't know. I don't know, Jim."

"Does this have something to do with what happened in her past? Was her father . . . ?"

"Her father loved her so much, Jim. I wish he were alive today so you could know him. He would treat you like a son. He really would. No, it's nothing like that. Besides, the other things that have been happening to you don't make any sense, do they? Even if Mary was abused as a child, which of course she wasn't, the other things that have been happening to you pretty well negate what we might call a conventional explanation, wouldn't you say?"

"How . . . how did you know that things were happening to me?"

Katherine looked steadily at Jim. She grasped his hand. "Let me make a suggestion, Jim. Keep her away from the campground. You'll have a far better chance of solving the problem if you can keep her away from where this phenomenon occurs."

"What is it, Katherine? What's happening to her-and to me?"

"Can't tell you."

"Do you know what it is?"

"Can't tell you that, either."

"Why not? The emotional health of your only child is at stake."

"Jim, if I told you even half of what I believe is happening, you not only wouldn't believe me, you would have me committed."

---

"Are you ready for the sit-ups now?" Mary was lying on Jim's floor and he was helping her perform her daily exercises as he now did everyday.

"Yes. Hold my legs."

Jim was on his knees and at her feet. Shifting his balance forward, he held her ankles to the floor. "Ready?"

"Ready, banjo man." She interlaced her fingers behind the back of her head and began, "One . . . two . . . three . . . four . . ."

As she counted, Jim said, "Your mother is thrilled about us getting married."

"She's eight . . . cute, isn't she? . . . nine . . ."

"Between your mother and my mother this wedding will never happen."

"They're both eleven . . . having a wonderful twelve . . . time planning with thirteen . . . me . . ."

"Yeah, well, I guess mothers are born to plan weddings."

"Oh, how thoroughly chauvinistic sixteen . . . of you . . . seventeen."

"Yeah, and you love it." He wanted to kiss her, then, but under no circumstances would he interfere with one of the most important parts of her day. Even though Mary's legs were essentially useless, her upper body made up for it, and her exercises were solely responsible for maintaining that strength.

Mary was using her manual chair in Jim's house because his floor space and narrow doorways wouldn't accommodate the space a power chair would require. They had already discussed what their dream house would be like. Never in Jim's wildest dreams would he have thought his future wife would be confined to a wheel chair. And now it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to him.

"Done," Mary said.

Now Jim took to massaging her legs. Good blood circulation was of the utmost importance. When Jim first began doing this for her, she resisted. She said she didn't want him to have to work so hard for her comfort. But gradually her resistance disappeared as she began to have more feeling in her legs, albeit slightly.

"I have to work in my office tonight, Jim. Do you mind awfully if I spend the night with Mother?"

"Of course I don't mind. I have some running around to do myself."

"Oh, really?" She grinned. "You're not running around behind my back, are you?"

He lay on top of her and covered her with kisses. "No," he whispered. "Not a chance."

---

"I already paid the guy. Go get it, do your stuff with it, and above all else, hide it. And if you tell anyone-anyone, I'm gonna hafta kill ya."

Matt grinned broadly. "Jim, this is just about the nicest thing I've ever seen you do. Mary has turned you into quite a guy."

"Well," Jim said, "I'd like to think I had the seeds of that in me before Mary came along."

Matt clapped Jim across the back. "You've always been a good guy, Jim. It just took someone like Mary to bring you into the real world."

---

He decided to confide in Katherine. He was going to tell her everything. He felt dishonest, hiding this from Mary, but she was so happy with her life. He wasn't about to make her miserable.

"Mary thinks I'm running errands," Katherine said, "so I don't have a lot of time, Jim. Thank God, when she's working on a project, she loses track of everything else, including me."

"This won't take long, Katherine. Want something to drink?" he offered.

"No, thank you. What did you want to talk to me about, Jim?"

"I wanted to tell you what happened to both Mary and I. I've told you she experienced nightmares while we were camping. There were other things as well."

"Mary would disappear, wouldn't she?"

Jim's jaw dropped. "My God, that happened when she was a child, too?"

"Yes."

"But . . . but what's the explanation for this?"

"You'll have to find this out for yourself."

"Katherine, you owe me this."

"When you finally know, you'll realize why I can't say more."

"Ahh . . ." Jim tipped his head back and gazed at the ceiling.

"What happened to you out there on the campground, Jim?"

Jim sighed. "You won't believe this."

"Try me."

"Well, just before Mary would react to her nightmares, someone would come into the tent and climb on top of me. I know this sounds bizarre, but there was a person in the tent and this person was on top of my body. The first time we went out, Mary wasn't comfortable sleeping with me so we took two tents. I woke up in the middle of the night to discover that someone was in my tent and lying on top of me, almost as if the person was getting set to make love to me. God, it makes me shiver to tell it. I pushed the intruder off and it quickly escaped out the tent. Mary groaned and I went tearing into her tent."

"She was in her own tent, then?"

"Yes, in her own tent. This last time we went out, we slept together. I again awoke in the night to find someone on top of me and this time it was even more aggresive; I thought it was going to rape me. It made my skin crawl. I . . . I screamed for Mary to come and help me. Stupid of me, I know, but I wanted her to help me."

"I wouldn't call that stupid, Jim. I'd say that was a man who loves his wife-to-be so much that he completely overlooks her physical limitations, even when he's at the point of danger."

"I thought I was in grave danger. When you awaken from a sound sleep to feel an intruder on you, your mind goes wild. Well, I once again threw the intruder off me and it made its getaway. Then I heard Mary screaming for me. I found her away from the tent, lying on the ground. Katherine, she was so frightened. Oh God, dear God, she was so frightened."

"Damn, that girl didn't tell me any of this." Katherine looked away, a mixture of irritation and a wait-until-I-talk-to-her look in her eyes."

"I don't think it would be productive to bring this up to her, Katherine."

"I know, I know. You're right, of course. Oh, Jim, what are we going to do?"

"Can't you tell me anything at all about this? You seem to know things I don't know."

"I can tell you that it's a curse."

"A curse? You sound as if this is witchcraft."

"It's far more powerful than witchcraft, Jim. It's a phenomenon that's happening in real time and real space. You must confront it. You must."

---

As Jim walked into the house, the smell of cooking spaghetti sauce made him smile. "Mary, I feel guilty when you go to so much trouble for me. You have your own business to run. We can eat out. You don't have to be so good to me."

Mary smiled in that way that warmed Jim to the core of his being. "Look in the living room."

Jim looked through the doorway. "A candlelight dinner." He leaned down and embraced her. "I love you, Mary."

"Of course you do." She kissed him long and hard. "I want you to be happy. I've never had a man to do this for, so let me spoil you rotten."

"Okay," he said. "I'll let you spoil me."

He helped her finish making the dinner. Then they sat down at the table. "You brought your own plates and silverware," he said. "It's beautiful." He looked at Mary sitting across the table from him. "You're beautiful."

"Thank you, Jimmy."

They ate and talked, and the candlelight atmosphere was driving Jim to a state of high desire. When Jim finished his last bite he said, "I believe I would like to have dessert now. Would you like to have dessert with me?"

"Yes," she said. "I would very much like dessert."

He slid back his chair and then got up and went to her. He took her from her chair and held her. "How did I ever get so lucky?"

She put her arms around his neck and chuckled. "Just lucky, I guess."

He carried her to his bedroom and laid her on the bed. Then he lay down beside her.

"You can have your dessert anytime, banjo man."

Jim played with her in his gentle way. She reciprocated and initiated in her gentle way. They had love-making between them down to a fine art. And then that very magic moment arrived and he was in her. "Oh, my dear God," Jim breathed.

---

Jim was alone and he was on the Internet. He typed "paranormal" into the search engine's search line. A list of sites scrolled down the screen. "Hmm." He went to various sites and looked for something, anything, that might give him some clue as to what he and Mary might be experiencing.

He tried one search engine, then another, linking from one site to another, following threads that looked promising, changing direction when the threads led to a dead end. Before he realized it, it was time to turn in for the night.

Now he heard a car pull into his driveway. He knew it was Mary. He greeted her at the door. "Thought you were staying with your mother tonight?"

"I had planned to, but I missed you so much I couldn't stand it. Should I have stayed away?" she teased.

"Are you kidding? He kissed her and said, "Let me shut down the computer."

"You don't have to do that. What are you working on?" Before he could stop her, she was in his office. She glared at the screen. "What the heck is this? Psychometric? Telepathy?" She gave him an I-can't-believe-this look. "Out-of-body experiences? Have you lost your mind? I suppose that you think the whole world is slowly being taken over by aliens, as well?"

"I was just . . . just . . . yeah, it's silly. I was just looking around."

"You shouldn't poison your mind with all this nonsense, Jim. You're wasting your time. I'm surprised you would even look at something like this."

Why was she so angry with him?

"Shut it off," she commanded.

"Okay." Jim reached for the mouse, but Mary grabbed it first.

"I'll shut it off for you. It makes me angry just to see that stuff up there. The Net is crowded enough without all that nonsense up there. That's what slows everything down, you know," she said angrily.

"Mary, I've never seen you even close to this angry. What have I done?"

"You've wasted your time! That's what you've done!"

"I . . . I won't go to those sites anymore if it upsets you this much. I didn't know . . ."

"Damned right you didn't know! I don't know why I came here tonight. I'm going home."

"Mary, please, we can talk this out, can't we?"

"No, we can't. I'm going home." She spun her chair around and headed for the front door.

"Mary, damn it, will you stop and talk to me?"

"No." She looked at him steadily. "Open the damned door for me."

He stood, frozen in his tracks.

"Fine, I'll do it myself." She jerked open the door and was gone.

Jim sat down, stunned. He got up and went to the refrigerator and pulled out a can of root beer, then drank half the can in two swallows. When he set the can down, the remaining soda splashed out the top. "Damn," he muttered under his breath, "this has got to be resolved." He went into the garage and started his car. He didn't know how much rubber he left on the garage floor when he backed out, nor did her care.

When he arrived at Mary's house he was relieved to see her van in the driveway. At least he wouldn't have to go looking for her. "Mary?" he called as he knocked on the door. "Mary, let's talk. Let's not leave it like this. Let's talk," he said through the door. The door opened. "Katherine, I have to talk to Mary." Katherine stepped aside and let him in. "Where is she?" he asked.

Katherine smiled. "She's in her bedroom, pouting."

Jim walked through the hallway until he came to Mary's room. He tapped on the door.

"Go away," a petulant voice said. "Just go the hell away."

"Please let me come in, Mary. You know we can resolve this."

There was silence on the other side of the door.

"You're acting like a spoiled brat," he said. Jim jerked away from the door as Mary threw something against it. "All right, light of my life, that's enough of that stuff." He opened the door and walked in.

"I don't want you in here," she said.

"Too bad. I'm already in."

Mary put her head down. Jim walked to her and got down on his knees in front of her. "Let's take a ride," he whispered.

"I'm too mad. I'm not going to drive us around while I'm mad."

"I'm going to drive," Jim said calmly.

"You can't drive my van. It's set up for my wheelchair and it's cross linked and you can't drive my van."

"I don't intend to drive your van," he said patiently. "You're going to ride in my 'vette."

"No," she said angrily, teeth clenched.

"You've never ridden in it, Mary."

"I can't ride in conventional cars. You already know this."

"No, I don't know this. You've told me this before, but right now we're going to find out if your ridiculous claim is true." He picked her up in his arms.

"Put me down, oaf! How dare you? Put me down."

"I'm not going to do any such thing. Katherine," he called, "would you please clear the way?"

When he came out with Mary in his arms, Katherine was grinning. "Oh, I suppose you think this if funny," Mary said. "I suppose you think this is hilarious. I'm so glad you're having a wonderful time at my expense."

Jim walked out the front door and down the ramp with her. "Katherine, follow me and help me with the door, would you please?"

Katherine opened the rider's side door and Jim put Mary on the seat. He stood back as if admiring his cleverness. "Well, that seemed to work all right." He bent down and fastened her seat belt. "Too snug?"

"No . . . no, it's just fine." She looked at her mother. "What am I going to do with him?"

Katherine looked directly into her eyes. "You're going to love him, that's what you're going to do." She walked back into the house and closed the door behind her.

Jim went around to the driver's side and got in. He started the car and slowly backed out of the driveway, not sure of how well Mary would ride without the supporting structure of her wheelchair. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"No," she whispered.

"Am I pushing you beyond your physical limitations? I'm not trying to make you feel uncomfortable."

"I know. I know, Jim. I'm so sorry. Sometimes I can be a brat."

"How 'bout a chocolate shake? We can split one."

"Sure. Why not?"

Jim drove through an all night fast food line and ordered a large chocolate shake with two straws. They took turns drinking the shake. Mary was silent. Finally she said, "I like your car."

"Thanks. I knew you would, once I got you into it."

"It's a hot shot car. Fits you just fine."

He looked at her and wiggled her seat belt as if he was testing its fit. "Fits you fine, too. You just won't admit it."

Mary sighed deeply. "Don't ask me about the paranormal stuff. I don't want to get into it again."

"Why not?"

"I love this car. This must be what the inside of a starship is like."

"Why not?" he asked again.

Mary gazed out the window. They were scooping the loop and teenage kids were walking the streets. "Where are these kids' parents, I wonder?"

Jim drove onto a side street and parked along the curb. "Talk to me," he quietly said. "Talk to me, Sweetheart."

"I apologize for my ridiculous outburst." Again she looked out the window.

Jim took her chin and gently turned her head to face him. "Your outburst was unreasonable. There is a reason you were so upset. What is it?"

"I can't say," she said. "I really can't say."

Jim leaned back against his seat. "Mary, paranormal events are real. The reason some people think they're not real is because they don't look at it from the right perspective."

"Is this going to be one of your long lectures?"

"Nope. I'll explain it quick. There are laws of the universe that are beyond us right now. There is no magic; no hocus pocus. What appears to be magic is a phenomenon or event that behaves according to rules we don't yet understand. For example, I can find water with a pair of L-shaped wires. Is this magic? No. All living things are sensitive to the magnetic field of the earth. That's how birds migrate. We sense a disturbance in the field when water crosses it. When we search for water we don't think we turn the wires, but we do. That looks like magic, even to the person who's using the wires. I'll bet I was a real mucka muck hot shot water witcher in a previous life." He chuckled quietly.

"No doubt you were. I don't disbelieve paranormal events. I just can't bear to think about them. It's difficult to explain why, but I've always been this way. I lose control when someone even brings the subject up."

Jim laughed. "Maybe you were burned as a witch in a previous life."

Mary's eyes brimmed with tears. "Or maybe I wasn't a witch. Maybe I was as physically disabled as I am now. Maybe I had the same direct drive personality I have now and maybe I was misunderstood."

"What? You're talking as if you know this to be a fact," Jim said, astonished.

Mary ignored his comment and continued, "People like me were thought to be cursed. Sometimes the clergy put the mark of the devil on us. We were ostracized-turned out from the clan. We were left to survive on our own. We had no family, no friends, no intimate relationship, nowhere to go, no hope, no peace, no . . ."

"Stop, Mary." He took her by her shoulders. "Please stop this kind of talk."

Mary looked at him, dazed now.

"I'm taking you home."

"I . . . I don't want to sleep at Mother's house tonight, Jim."

"Then will you come home with me? Maybe you'll feel better in my bed than in yours." He kissed her on the forehead. "I want you to know that whatever haunted you in the past can't hurt you now. Do you believe that?" He looked into her eyes. The car interior was dark, save for a streetlight close by, but he could imagine her beautiful face. "No one will hurt you, Mary. Please believe that."

Jim felt safe in his bed, and he knew it was Mary's presence that made him feel this way. It wasn't her physical strength he required. It was her emotional strength. It was her honesty. And now she was confiding in him-fully accepting him into her life.

Mary gently rubbed his cheek. "I'm caught between two worlds, Jim. I live in the world of the disabled. Now that you've come along, I'm living in the world of the able bodied. I would give just about anything to leave my disabled world behind-anything. You can't imagine how frustrated I am. I was so safe in my own world before you came into my life. I knew who I was and I knew what my limitations were. I lived within those limitations, and . . ."

"Honey," Jim interrupted, "we all fight limitations of one kind or another."

"Let me finish. This is difficult for me to talk about. Please let me finish."

"All right," he said. "I'm sorry, go ahead."

"I live within those limitations, and it's becoming increasingly more difficult to do this."

"I would think that the deep love we have for one another would ease your difficulties."

"It does, Sweetheart. I'm very happy with you. I didn't think I could ever be this happy. But there are times when my heart aches because I'm restricted to this wheelchair. I want you to have a normal life; a normal wife."

"This is the most normal life I've ever had-with you. If I wouldn't have you, I'd be off running in a dozen different directions, trying to impress the world. I don't want to hear you put yourself down like this, Mary. You're way above this kind of talk. You scare me when you talk like this."

"Do I? I'm not trying to scare you. I'm not going to back out of our wedding, if that's what you're thinking. I love you so much that I can't possibly hope to have any kind of happiness without you. I just wanted to share my pain with you. It's not fair to you, but . . ."

"It is fair, Mary. That's what love is all about. It doesn't always go smoothly. Sometimes I'm sure it's even disappointing. But then, I'm no expert; I've never been in love before."

"Jim, you must have had dozens of girls before you met me."

"No, not really. I had friends, and we'd go out, but they weren't even in your league, Sweetheart."

"I'll bet you tell that to all the girls."

Jim pulled her to him. "I will never let you go. The only way we would ever dissolve this relationship is if you broke it off. Please don't even entertain that idea."

"All right," she said, "I won't. I want to go to sleep now. We can talk more tomorrow."

---

She put her thumb under her shoulder harness and ran it up and down.

"Don't be nervous, Mary."

"How can I help but be nervous? I'm being thrown headlong into the world of the able-bodied."

Jim chuckled. "I wouldn't exactly call going to Matt's party as being thrown headlong into the world of the able-bodied. You'll be fine once you are introduced to a few people."

"Will I? You'll introduce me to your former girl friends and they'll look down at me, sitting in my wheelchair, and they will pity you. They'll think, 'Poor Jim; he was certainly desperate this time around, wasn't he? How can this crippled woman possibly take my place?' That's what they'll say."

"They won't think any such thing. You're just nervous."

"Wouldn't you be if your fiancee had to carry you into the house? What a grand entrance I'm about to make."

"Yes." Jim smiled. "What a grand entrance."

He pulled the Corvette into the driveway. Then he dialed his cell phone to alert Matt they had arrived and were coming in. Jim picked Mary up and started across the yard. He felt terror in her, but knew he could do nothing to help her. Matt came out and took Mary's fold-up wheelchair out of the trunk.

"Lots of people in there, you guys. I'm glad you came." He went up the steps ahead of them and unfolded Mary's chair when he got inside. Once done, Jim set Mary in it. "Follow me, Mary," Matt said. "We're all in the rec room."

"Hello, everyone?" Jim said warmly. He felt his own nervousness now-nervousness for his bride-to-be.

The guests greeted Mary as if there was no wheel chair, but Jim felt for her. Maybe coming to this party wasn't such a good idea. Jim felt Mary cringe. "Everybody," he said, "I'd like you all to meet my fiancee, Mary Kerrigan."

A murmur of "hellos" and "pleased to meet yous" dribbled into the air.

Jim sat down. A young man named Ben said, "Glad you two came. We've been hearing a lot about you, Mary." He smiled at Mary in a welcoming way.

Jim stayed close by Mary as the evening progressed. The guests all knew each other, and he knew this group of his friends, although kind and warm, was difficult for Mary to embrace and feel comfortable with. Suddenly, late in the evening, Jim knew that Mary had had enough. Her discomfort vanished before his eyes as Mary casually said, "Say, anybody have a quarter?"

A young, beautiful woman named Cindy who was a former friend of Jim's, said, "Sure." She flipped Mary a quarter.

Mary handed the quarter back to Cindy. "No, I don't want to touch the quarter. I'm going to show you something that will absolutely astound you. She looked at Jim as if she was going in for the kill. Jim literally held his breath. He didn't know why, but he had a feeling something great, or strange, or both was about to happen.

"Flip the quarter," Mary ordered. Cindy flipped it, caught it on the back of her hand, and quickly covered it. "Tails," Mary said.

Cindy uncovered it and said, "It's tails." She showed it the rest of them.

"Flip it again." The coin spun into the air. "Tails."

A low 'Ooooo' came from Matt. "Lucky girl," he said, mirth in his voice.

"Flip it again . . . heads. Again . . . tails . . . Again . . . heads." Mary had called it right everytime.

The guests were beginning to pay attention now. "Does anyone else want to try?" Mary asked. She looked at them.

Ben pulled a quarter from his pocket. "Me. I want to try."

Jim looked over at Mary. 'How do you do that?' he mouthed.

Mary smiled. "This time, Ben," I will tell you whether it's heads or tails before you flip it."

A series of "ahhs" and genuine "wows" spilled forth. "When you flip the coin, you will get heads." Ben flipped the quarter and let it land on the carpet. It was heads. "The next flip will again be heads. Heads showed up on the carpet. "The next flip will be

heads . . ."

"Wait," Matt said gleefully, "she's really pushing the rules of probability now."

Jim was sweating. His beautiful woman was mesmerizing these people. She was mesmerizing him.

Fourteen times in a row Mary called "heads" before Ben flipped the quarter, and fourteen times in a row the quarter came up heads. "Does anyone else want to try?" Mary asked.

"Uh," Jim said, "I want to try."

"Naw," Matt said, "you two may be working together on this. Let me try."

"Fine, Matthew," Mary said. "You can try. But this time I'm going to tell you what the next three sides will be in advance."

"No, five sides in advance," someone said. "No," another said, "ten sides in advance."

"Wait, wait." Mary was clearly in control now. The room fell silent. "I will predict the sides twenty five times in advance. Would that satisfy all of you that I have extraordinary paranormal powers?" She looked at Jim and smiled very warmly. Jim's mouth was hanging open. She predicted accurately all twenty five sides. Her audience sat, stunned into silence.

"Matthew, do you have a deck of cards?" Mary asked.

Matt fumbled with a drawer in an end table and handed her the cards from it. She handed them back. "Matthew, show our audience that all the cards are different."

Matt spread the cards, face up, on the coffee table.

"Turn them all face down now."

Matt did as he was told.

Mary looked at Jim. "Matthew, you will choose the two of hearts."

Matt looked at the deck and started to reach for a card.

"Wait," Mary said. "I forgot to tell you. I want all of you to agree on what card to choose."

How was she doing this? Jim wondered. His heart was hammering from excitement. The rest of the group happily squabbled among themselves until they decided which card to choose.

"Who would like to turn the card over?"

They happily squabbled some more.

Finally, Ben was delegated to turn over the card. "God! It's the two of hearts!" he gasped. "It's the two of hearts! Mary, what kind of woman are you?"

"I am Mary Kerrigan, soon to be Mary Kerrigan-Cutler. Any other questions?" She laughed joyfully.

---

"I shouldn't have done that. I went too far."

"Maybe so," Jim said quietly.

"You wanted me to be comfortable with your friends. I was comfortable."

Jim pulled into his driveway, got out, took Mary's fold-up wheelchair out of the car, opened it up and pushed it around to Mary's side. He pulled open the door. "Has it ever occured to you," Mary said, "that you will have to open doors for your wife for the rest of your life? Most wives experience this kind of treatment, if they are very lucky, for only a year or so after they're married. But you, Jim, will have to do this for me for as long as one of us lives. Doesn't it bother you, even a little, that your fate is to be my slave, whether you like it or not?"

"It didn't occur to me," Jim said distractedly. He picked Mary up and set her in her chair.

"I've made you angry."

"No," he said. "I'm not angry." He thought of what Katherine had told him; about how he would have to "confront it." What did she mean?

"Maybe I shouldn't stay with you tonight?"

"Is that how we'll handle future disagreements? Will you go home to your mother whenever we have an argument?"

"I thought you weren't angry?" she clipped.

"I'm not angry. I just don't want you running off to your mother's whenever you get a burr under your saddle."

They went into the house, neither speaking to the other. "I think I'll turn in early," Jim said. "Let me help you undress so when you decide to turn in, it will be easy for you."

"I don't want you to make it easy for me!" she flared. "I don't want you to treat me like your little mascot! I want to be able-bodied for you! I want to pick you up and carry you to bed! Don't you get it, Jim?! I'm not good enough for you!" She cried then. She cried until the front of her blouse was damp and sticky with her tears.

"Are you finished?" Jim asked calmly.

Mary covered her face with her hands and sobbed into them. Jim handed her a box of tissues. "I would help you dry your tears, but I'm afraid you'll get mad again because I'm helping you."

"Oh, Jim." She wiped her nose."I don't know why you put up with me."

"I do," he said quietly. "May I lift you out of your chair and help you undress?"

"Oh, you poor man." She took his face in her hands. "Oh, oh, you poor man. What kind of life am I giving you?"

He took her from her chair, then set her back into it. "Wait, maybe I am coddling you too much. Can you get onto the bed yourself?"

"Yes," she said. "I would prefer to do that." She wheeled herself into the bedroom, braked the chair, pushed herself up out of it, locked her leg braces, and stood on them while hanging onto her chair for balance. Then she laid herself across the bed.

"I can help you with your braces, Mary, if you want." Jim didn't know how far he should extend himself to her.

"I will accept your help," she said. She smiled tiredly.

---

Somewhere in the night, Jim had a lucid dream. It was so lucid, it was almost as if he was listening to a conversation he wasn't supposed to be privy to. The conversation was between Mary and someone he couldn't see. Mary said, "I don't know what to do. I can't ask him to give his life to me because he will have to give far more than I. I . . . I don't know what to do."

Another voice, not Mary's, said, "I want to continue to be part of your life."

"But you can't," Mary said. "The life he and I have is a very intimate relationship. It's precious to us both. It's between a man and a woman. Don't you understand?"

"No. You want me to continue to be part of your life, don't you?" The voice had an uncomfortable sing song quality to it. "You don't want me but you do want me. Am I correct?"

"Yes," Mary said. "Yes, you are correct. But this isn't like the old days. Circumstances are different for me now. I think he really loves me. I'm wondering if it even matters to him that I'm disabled."

"Does it matter?" the voice said. "You want comfort, do you not?"

"Yes, but . . ."

"I can continue to give you that level of comfort. I can also have comfort for myself. Together, we are a whole beeeing," the voice wined.

The dream ended then. He awoke with a start, sweat pouring from every pore. Mary was crying next to him. "Shhh," he said. "Shhh, Mary, don't cry. It's Jim. I'm right here."

---

"What's your problem today?" Matt handed Jim a Zip cartridge. "This is the stuff the B team has finished. Look at it when you have time, will you?"

"Yeah, I will," Jim said. He took the cartridge from Matt and laid it on his desk.

"Time out," Matt said. He pointed to the break room.

They went in and sat down. There were others in the room and Jim felt uncomfortable.

"Okay," Matt said, "out." They went outside and stood by the back door. It was chilly and Jim wished he would have put on his leather jacket. "Something very heavy is on your mind, Jim. I don't want to pry, but I'll listen if you want to talk."

"I don't have anything to say," Jim said tiredly. "I really have nothing to add to this conversation."

"Mary enjoyed herself at the party," Matt ventured. "She left us all scratching our heads. When you two went home I asked the others if the whole thing was some elaborate setup by those who helped her. They said they didn't even know her until she showed up at the party."

"Matt," Jim said, "you were one of those that helped her. Did she set something up between you two?"

"No," he said. "I swear to you, she just did all this . . . stuff . . . out of the blue. How did she do it?"

---

"Where is she, Katherine?"

"Hello, Jim." Katherine opened the door and let him in. "She said she needed to take a drive to do some thinking."

"About what? What's there to think about?" He felt desperate for Mary, now.

"This hasn't been easy for her, Jim."

"The way she's been acting, you'd think I'd been mistreating her."

"Jimmy, I told you some time ago that you and Mary will have to confront this."

"This. It always comes back to this ghost in the closet, doesn't it? I want to talk to her. Where do you think she might be?"

"She probably went to visit her father."

---

He drove through the cemetery gate. Mary's van was parked on the edge of the pathway. He got out and quietly pushed the car door shut until the lock caught. She was sitting in her power chair, gazing at a tombstone. The stone was her father's.

"I knew you'd come, banjo man." She turned to him and smiled sadly. Tears were on her cheeks.

Jim kneeled on the grass in front of her. "I would give you my life," he whispered.

She sighed, and laid her hand on his shoulder. "My shining knight in his black leather jacket. I truly believe you would, Sir Cutler."

"I love you, Mary. He felt his voice crack with emotion.

She gently pulled him to her and put his head on her lap. "When I was a little girl, my father would hold me and rock me. I would cry and tell him that I didn't want to be different, that I wanted to be like all the other kids. My Father would say, 'Sweetie Pie, you're just like other kids. You can't see this yet, but when you grow up, you'll understand.' Then I'd make him promise me that it was true-that I was like everyone else. He would promise, and then he would rock me to sleep. He was still rocking me to sleep when I was twelve years old."

Jim sat up and took her hands in his. "I don't know how I can make you feel comfortable with yourself."

"You can't, Jim. It's up to me. No matter how much you love me, ultimately the state of my happiness is up to me."

"You're a very mysterious woman, Mary."

"I know. I've tried very hard to hide that side of myself from you. I haven't done a very good job, have I?" She lovingly brushed his hair back from his face.

"There are . . . things about you that I can't understand."

"Things like my startling magic act?"

"That, yes. But it's more than that. It's much more than that."

Jim could see the concern Mary felt for him in her eyes.

"This weekend is the last weekend we can camp out before it closes for the winter," Mary said. "I want to go."

"By yourself, or with me?"

"Jimmy, with you, of course. Oh, God, I've managed to drive you away so far that you actually think I would want to go by myself." She laughed then. "I can't go by myself. It's a compliment to me that you were fearful that I could."

It was Friday afternoon and Jim and Mary were packing the van. They were both upbeat, and Jim couldn't wait to get going. So it was with irritation when Jim's cell phone rang. "Hello," he said half gruffly as he jerked the phone from his belt. "This is Jim."

"Jim, this is Vik. Did I catch you at a bad time?"

"Uh, yeah, kind of." Jim mouthed to Mary, 'My boss, Vik.' Mary threw her hands in the air in resignation. Jim put his finger up to her in the sign for 'hang on'. "What's on your mind, Vik?"

"Jim, I hate to ask you this, but I'm going to need you to come in tomorrow morning. We've got to get that job out, and your part has to be finished in order to do this. Would you consider working tomorrow morning?"

"Um . . . work tomorrow morning? Mary and I are heading to the campground this weekend." The look of disappointment on Mary's face was crushing. Jim caught the cell phone between his ear and his shoulder and then turned his palms up in the sign for 'What am I going to do?' "I don't have much work left, Vik. I can finish it Monday morning," Jim ventured. "Why couldn't I do it then?"

"Because the client is balking. I've put him off as long as I can and after you left work today he really put the screws to me. He wants us to deliver it Monday morning."

"Just a minute. Hang on." He covered the phone with his hand. "Vik wants me to work tomorrow. What the hell am I going to do?"

"Tell him you'll go in and finish it tonight."

"I don't want to go in and work on it tonight."

"You won't have to. Your work will be finished by Monday morning."

"What!" he whispered. "I'll have to work all night."

"No, you won't. Tell him you'll finish it tonight."

"But . . ."

"Tell him," she urged.

"Vik, you still there?"

"Yeah, I'm here."

Jim looked over at Mary. "I'll . . . uh . . . go in tonight and finish up. Mary and I really want to go to the campground this weekend, so I'll go in tonight."

"Thanks a lot, Jim. Would you like me to come in and give you a hand?"

'He wants to know if . . .' he mouthed to Mary.

"Tell him no," she whispered.

"Uh, no, I won't be needing any help. I'll enlist Mary's help. Maybe we can finish it quicker than I can working alone. Is that all right with you?"

"That's fine with me. Tell Mary hello."

When Jim hung up he said, "Damn. Of all the luck."

"It's done."

"What's done?" Jim asked, despondent now.

"Your work. It's finished-all of it, or will be shortly." Mary said almost flippantly.

"I have a good half day of work left, even with you helping me."

Mary said, "Tell me exactly what work you have left to do. You know I'm familiar with it."

"This is crazy, Mary. We'll be working all night."

"The way I figure it, most of the work you have left is pretty straight forward."

"I wouldn't call the instruction manual straight forward," he bristled.

"I would." She clapped her hand to her forehead. "Oh, silly me. I won't need to help you, hot shot. Just go to your office. I'll finish packing the van."

"But I need your . . ."

"Go." She patted him on the butt and smiled knowingly, then threw the bedclothes into the van.

---

Jim wasn't exactly sure why he was humoring Mary to the extent that he was. Maybe he was hoping he could miraculously finish a half day's work in twenty minutes. He slid his key card in the front door of the building. It was 6:00 p.m. Little chance of making it to the campground tonight.

Jim pulled the door open. The security lights were on, making it easy to find his way to his office. Before he even took out his key card to unlock his door, he felt uneasy. No, 'uneasy' was the wrong term. He felt as if someone was there with him, someone he knew. He looked down the hallway; first one way, then the other. Nothing. He stuck his key card in the reader on the door and pushed the door open. He was surprised and somewhat unsettled to see that his computer was on. He knew he'd logged off the network when he went home that afternoon. He was sure of it. Jim was a meticulous person, and it would have been unlike him to walk out of the office without shutting down his "box," as he liked to call it. But here it was, the warp speed screen saver soundlessly grinding away.

"Well, I probably just forgot to shut the computer off after I logged off," he mumbled to himself. He sat down and then moved the mouse to kill the screen saver. "Damn!" burst from his lips. He was logged on! This was impossible. The only other person who knew his log-on, besides tech support, was Mary. He quickly dialed his cell phone number. "Mary, I'm here at the office."

"That's nice," she said. "I'm glad you called me. The van is packed, and we're ready to go just as soon as you come home."

There was a sound to Mary's voice that was making Jim very uncomfortable. "My computer was on, Mary," Jim blurted. "I logged off when I left work today, but when I came in the office, the computer was on and I was logged on."

"I know. Go to your main project folder."

"What are you . . . ?"

"Please do as I ask, Jim."

Jim clicked open the hard drive icon, then scrolled down to a folder named 'Secure Insurance Corp.' "Okay," he said. "I'm there." He felt sweat breaking out on his upper lip. This whole thing didn't feel right.

"Now open up the 'SIC' folder."

He clicked the folder open and scrolled down to a folder named 'SIC Manual,' then clicked it open. "Geez, Mary! There's an Acrobat file named 'Secure Insurance Corporation Manual!' This can't be finished! I didn't make this file! This is what Vik wanted me to do!"

"Stay calm, hot shot. Double-click the Acrobat file."

With hand shaking, Jim clicked open the file. The screen opened to the title page. "It's . . . it's all finished! The . . . bookmarks . . ." he clicked on one bookmark, then another, "they're all in place. All the pages are here . . . the body of the text . . . it's all . . . I . . . I'm losing my mind, Mary. I feel sick. I'm . . ."

"Jim, please listen to me. Your work is finished. You know this beyond all doubt now, don't you? Talk to me, Jim. Are you convinced that your work is finished?"

"Yes," he said. "Yes, it's finished. I don't . . . I don't know how. I'm very upset right now, Mary. Let me hang up. I'll be home in a few minutes."

"But . . ."

He hung up on her.

---

"We're not going camping until you tell me what's going on, Mary!" Jim raged. "I've had enough of this. Life made sense to me until you came along. Nothing makes sense now-nothing! There are too many things about you that I can't even begin to explain. I'm tired, tired, tired of this. Do you understand me? Do you understand how serious this is? Are you listening to me?"

"I'm listening," she said, "and so are the neighbors."

"I don't care about the neighbors! I don't care about the damned neighbors! I care about you! And I care about me! And I care about our future together!" He slammed the door of his Corvette and stomped out of the garage. "You'd better do some serious explaining to me, Mary. I've had it." He stormed into the house and left her sitting in the driveway.

He wrenched open the refrigerator door and pulled out a bottle of water. He yanked open the slide cap and chugged most of the water before he began choking on it. "Damn!" He threw the bottle into the sink. "Damn!" he yelled again.

Mary appeared in the kitchen. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm really sorry, Jim."

Jim sat down at the table. "Mary, you know how much I love you. You know I don't want to go on living my life without you. This has got to stop." He looked at her. He was sweat from head to toe.

"Do you know," she said quietly, "that just now was the first time you treated me like a normal human being? We had a fight, and you left me in the driveway. You left me in a rage."

"I was so angry."

"No, Jim. That's not what I mean. You left me sit. You were in a seething rage and you yelled at me and then left me sit. Up until now you've been coddling me, carrying me, doing things for me that I can do myself. You've been treating me like a china doll, as if any minute I would disintegrate. I won't disintegrate, Jim. I won't break. I don't want you to be my slave, my caretaker. I want you to be my husband. I want you to be my partner. Whadda ya say, pardner?" She looked at him and smiled hopefully.

"Oh, Mary." He put his arms around her and squeezed her.

"Jim, I promise that there will be no more mystery between us. It's ended. No more. Do you believe me?"

"Yes," he said. "I believe you."

Jim felt like he had been 'dragged through a knothole,' as his grandmother used to say, so he climbed into the shower before they left for the campground. "Turn the water down, hot shot, I'm coming in."

Jim fiddled with the faucet until the water was a manageable trickle. "Need some help?" he asked.

"Nope." She pulled the shower curtain back and smoothly transferred from her chair to the edge of the tub. Then she pulled the curtain shut. "Turn it on."

Jim turned the faucets back on until the streams of water hitting them felt like needles. They soaped themselves up and basked in the healing glow of the steam and the water. And in the shower they made love.

It was 8:15 p.m. when they arrived at the campground. The sun had almost set. Mary pulled up to the ranger station check-in. The ranger came up to the window-the same ranger they had met before. "Well," he said, "I haven't seen you two for awhile."

"We've been busy," Mary said. She handed him thirty dollars. Then she showed him her driver's license and he filled out the check-in form. Jim got out and helped the ranger carry Mary's spare batteries and charger into the station.

When they came back, the ranger said, "It's likely to get pretty cold tonight. Hope you brought plenty of blankets." He glanced into the side window and chuckled. "Looks like you brought the kitchen sink."

Mary reached down on the floor between the captain's chairs. "We did. These are donuts my mother sent with us. Would you like one?"

The ranger smiled. "No, thanks. Have a good time this weekend. This will be your last chance for awhile." He waved them through the gate.

They found a camping space, and began setting the tent up in the dark, the lanterns giving them barely enough light to work by. But they petted and kissed while they worked, and before long the tent was erected. Together they pumped up the air mattress. Jim teased that they should "rough it," that they should sleep out on the hard, cold ground, but finally agreed that the mattress probably would be a good idea, providing Mary helped him operate the air pump. He could have done it himself, of course, but he didn't want to. He wanted Mary to help him. He didn't want to do for himself anymore. He had found his partner in life, and he wanted to share everything with her, including the work.

When they crawled into bed, Jim suddenly realized how truly tired he was. He cuddled against Mary; she was shivering. "You're cold, Honey," he said.

"No." Her teeth chattered. "I'm not cold. I'm frightened."

Jim pulled another blanket over them. "We'll face this together, Mary."

He found difficulty in falling asleep. So did Mary. They told each other silly stories and they talked about silly things. Jim was afraid to go to sleep, and he suspected Mary was too.

Eventually, though, sleep came to Jim. He simply drifted off.

The next morning they awoke to the chattering of squirrels. "Sleepy head," Mary said. "Sleepy head, wake up. The day will be gone before we get a chance to enjoy it." He felt Mary's hand on his shoulder, teasing, pushing. Her face came to his ear. "I said, wake up, sleepy head," she whispered.

Jim sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "You're in a great mood this morning."

"I'm always in a great mood. I always wake up happy."

He touched her face lovingly. "That you do, sweet love-that you do." He threw off the covers. "Aren't you glad, now, that I insisted we wear our insulated underwear?"

"Yes," Mary said. "Very glad."

"Let me pull on my pants and then I'll help you if you want me to. Okay?"

"Okay." She laid herself back on the air mattress.

"Mary," Jim looked at her feet, "you have mud on your feet."

"Uh, do I?" She pushed herself to a sitting position and looked at her feet. "Hmm, that's odd. I must have gone to bed that way. Hmm."

"You didn't go to bed with muddy feet. You know you didn't. And look at the . . ." he peered closely at the ankles of her thermal underwear, "these are weeds, Mary." He looked up at her wonderingly. "They're weeds." He picked bits of them off her ankles. "Look at this." He held them in the palm of his hand and showed her.

"I can't . . . I can't explain this," she stammered. "Really, I can't explain it."

"Truly?" He looked directly into her eyes.

She looked away. "Truly."

Jim sighed. "Wipe off your feet so I can help you put your braces on."

---

They made breakfast. Jim was determined to enjoy the weekend, even if Mary was keeping the mysteries that still seemed to surround her, from him. He had nothing to go on except what Katherine had told him. It wasn't much.

They went down to the spillway, the huge facility where the water from the lake spilled through the dam and then flowed down river. The water was high-it was the season of early August rains-and the water plunged from the lakeside and through the dam at a terrifying rate. Jim had heard stories about the spillway; about how the undertow on the downside was so strong that if you fell in, you would be sucked down to the river bed. It was a certain death.

A hurricane fence was installed along the walkway to prevent onlookers from falling into the boiling water below. Seagulls were circling above the water downstream-circling and occasionally diving to the water's surface, snatching up small fish in their beaks.

They drove back to the lakeside and bought rides on a sailboat. The captain of the boat was concerned for Mary's safety-the boat was small and would offer little protection if it should capsize, he explained-but Mary was insistent on going. Jim convinced the captain that, should disaster occur, Jim was a good swimmer. Besides, he told the captain, there were so many motored craft on the lake that rescue would be only seconds away.

When they finished their sailboat ride, much to the captain's relief, they went to a souvenir shop and browsed. Jim bought Mary a crystal pendant. It looked wonderful on her. Mary bought Jim a copper bracelet. She teased that no one would ever see it on him since he seemed to live in his leather jacket.

As the Saturday afternoon wound down, Jim found it less and less troubling that there were powerful unresolved issues between them. He didn't care about them anymore. He wasn't concerned about the inexplicable mysteries that surrounded Mary. He only knew that he loved her. He loved her more deeply than he thought it possible to love anyone. The mysteries would either reveal themselves, or they wouldn't. It mattered little to him, now, which way it went.

They barbecued hamburgers and ate slowly, and the heat from the charcoal warmed them. Finally, they went to bed. They talked under the covers for a time, but they were both too tired to initiate love.

In the night, Jim awoke. Someone was on top of him. "Mary," he said. "Mary." He put his arms around her and kissed her. This wasn't Mary! This person had full leg control, and it was pushing him into a direction that frightened him! "What are you doing? Who are you?" Jim fumbled for the lantern, but the person knocked it from his grasp. He struggled, but the being had him pinned to the mattress. "Mary, where are you?! Oh, God, help me, Mary!"

Once more Jim grappled with the being, trying to throw it off him, but this person was strong-too strong for Jim to defend himself against. Suddenly the lantern blinked on. The being Jim was struggling against was Mary!

"Are you surprised, Jim? Of course you are. Of course you are surprised. I am not surprised that you are surprised."

Terrified, Jim stuttered, "You're . . . you're not Mary. You can't . . . you can't be Mary."

"Well, I am, and I am not. The body you see is Cassandra, is it not? But it's sooo superior to what Cassandra lives in. Look." The being moved its short legs. "Cassandra and I have a pact. I take care of her and she takes care of me. I enable her to do things that ordinary humans cannot do, and I, in turn, share the emotional and intimate relationships she as a human experiences. And now I am going to make passionate human love to you."

The being that looked like Mary took Jim's arms in its powerful grip and forced him on his back. Through gritted teeth, straining against the unbelievable power of his assailant, Jim said, "You can't give me Mary's love. You aren't even a shadow of the love she feels toward me. You are a mere stain. A blot. An evil blot that has no hope of ever experiencing the intimate and loving life as Mary and I know it."

The being stood up and yanked Jim to his feet. "You will not take Cassandra from me," the being blurted. "I will not allow it. She is mine." The being began to drag Jim from the tent. Jim didn't want to hurt it because it was obvious to him now that the being was using Mary's body as a vehicle. Any blow he dealt it would surely hurt Mary. He stumbled along as the being dragged him away from the tent and to the van! It opened the driver's door and shoved Jim in, then climbed into the space that Mary ordinarily drove from when she was in her power chair. Only this time there was no power chair. There was only the body of Mary hunched low behind the wheel. Jim had one ray of hope left to him-the keys were in Mary's purse in the tent. If the being left to get them, Jim was going to run.

But his hope was dashed, now, as the engine started by itself. He wasn't surprised. This being wasn't human. It had powers far beyond Jim's comprehension.

The headlights came on and he felt the van lurch forward. He sat quietly while the being chattered at him hatefully. "Cassandra and I have been together through many lifetimes. You will not interfere. You are going to die. Do you understand me, Jim? You are going to die. I am going to crush the life from you as if you were a blot, a staaaaaain," it mocked.

He could hear the roar of water, now. The being was driving him to the spillway! Oh, God, he was going to die! He wrenched open his door and tried to leap out, but the being caught him by his wrist. "Nooo, Jimmy. Cassandra and I must be together. While you live, this is not possible. You will die."

Jim felt like the being was pulling his arm from its socket. He groaned and pulled the door shut.

Now Jim's heart lurched in his chest as the being pulled the van to the edge of the spillway. The water was roaring like thunder in Jim's ears. There was no moon, and the darkness swallowed him with its invisible jaws. The being dragged Jim out of the van. Jim knew they were close to the fence. "Cassandra's mind is terrified for you, Jim," the being said in its sickening sing song voice. "How sad for you. But Cassandra will be glad when you are dead. She surely will." Jim felt himself lifted up above the being's head. The being slammed him against the fence. The pain made him nauseous. He felt blood gushing from his lip. He couldn't fight this thing. Again he was lifted up, this time higher. He clutched at the top of the fence, trying to keep himself from going over, but the being pushed until Jim was now clinging to the other side of the fence, the water roaring directly below him, the rooster tails of water shooting up from the surface soaking him. "Cassandra is mine, now, Jim," the being said.

Jim couldn't hang on. He knew he couldn't hang on. As his grip left him, he cried, "I love you, Mary!" The numbness of fear shut down his brain and he felt himself falling slowly toward the water.

Suddenly, a bright light burst from the sky! A figure appeared within the light! It was a human figure! And in the cradled arms of the figure, Jim was caught from the middle of the air and rescued from certain death. He felt himself rise up in the light and soar above the fence, then lightly touch down on the safe side. He lay, dazed. He heard a voice. "Jim, I am the spirit of Mary's father. I love her. I love you."

"Her father?" Jim asked, dazed. "Her father . . . ? Mary," Jim sobbed. "I have to find Mary."

"I'm here, Jim. I'm all right. I'm here. Father?" her voice choked.

A being of light appeared before them. The being was so bright, it lit the waters below.

"Oh, Daddy!" Mary began to cry. Jim took her in his arms. "It's all right, now, Mary. Your father is here. It's all right."

"Mary, I am your father's spirit," the being of light said kindly. "I was your father in this lifetime you now live. The troublesome spirit that has followed you through so many lifetimes will not visit you again. I will make sure of this. I will guard both you and Jim to the end of your days. Jim, my only regret is that I did not know you in this lifetime."

"I regret it, too, sir" Jim said.

"Love each other. Be good to one another. Let there be no more mysteries between you." At that, the being vanished.

"Jimmy, Jimmy, what have I done to you?" Jim felt Mary touch his face. "What in God's name have I done to you?"

"Shhh, shhhh. It's all right. I'm all right. We've got to get back to the tent. We can't be caught out here when day breaks." A soft light lit the van. "I think your father is helping us." He carried Mary to it and put her in the driver's side. "This is going to be difficult for you, Mary, but I can't drive this van. And . . . we don't have . . ." He stared in the glow of the yellow courtesy lights. The keys were hanging in the ignition! "Good-bye, Sweetie Pie," a soft voice said. Mary began to cry. "Father? Oh, Daddy."

---

They packed up the next morning. They spoke little; they simply wanted to go home. When they were ready, Mary backed her chair into the lift, and it smoothly raised her and her power chair into the van. She started the engine and slowly drove down the path and out of the campground. Now she turned and looked at Jim.

"Talk to me, Mary."

"Yes, it's time I talk to you." She paused, then began, "Many lifetimes ago, when my name was Cassandra, and when people were ignorant, superstitious, and fearful, I was born with a serious birth defect."

"How can you remember your previous lifetimes?"

"Izlank made sure I remembered. That was the troublesome spirit's name-Izlank. During this particular lifetime I was tolerated as a child, although abused. But when I became an adult, the people in the community drove me out. They said I was the way I was because I was evil."

"My God," Jim breathed. "My God."

"Don't feel bad for me, Jim. You and every other developing soul has had the same kinds of experiences in previous lives. It's just that most of us don't remember them."

"What did you do when you were driven out of the community?"

"I almost starved to death in the wild. I couldn't hunt for myself because I couldn't walk. And since I couldn't walk, I was an easy target for predatory animals."

"Wolves," Jim muttered, unbelieving at what Mary was telling him.

"In the vernacular, yeah-wolves, and animals like wolves." Mary sighed. "That's when I met Izlank. One night, as I was lying under some brush to keep me warm, and hopefully to hide myself as well, a pack of animals came to me and began sniffing me. I knew I was dead. The memory of the experience is so strong that I will die with it in my brain."

"What happened to you?" Jim whispered.

"One of the animals took my arm in its teeth. I remember looking at the sky. There was a half moon. I thought, just let me die quickly. Please, just let me die quickly. Suddenly, I felt an incredible physical strength well up within me. I had no idea where this feeling came from, but the strength that surged through me gave me the guts to throw the animal off me. I killed every animal that approached me that night with my bare hands. The next morning when I awoke, the animals were lying around me, dead. I don't know if they were wolves or wild dogs. I don't know what kinds of animals were prevalent in that time period. But I remember getting up and walking away!" She looked at Jim now. "I was walking, Jim. Can you imagine how that made me feel?"

"Yes," he said. "I can well imagine."

"Izlank soon came to me in my dreams. He introduced himself and said he would always watch over me. But it didn't take too many lifetimes to realize that Izlank was an immature spirit. I knew I was in trouble by allowing him to give me powers I wouldn't ordinarily have, but I justified his part in my life by convincing myself that life was hard. I justified his existence in every lifetime we shared. I needed him. In many ways I was as immature as he." Now she looked away from the road and directly at Jim. "The magic act . . . ?"

"He did it."

"Right, he did it all. Your instruction manual . . . ?"

Jim chuckled. "If Secure Insurance only knew."

"When you came into my life he was angry. The night that I ended up behind the barbecue pit at the campground . . . ?"

"Don't tell me. I think I see the picture now. He possessed your body and wanted to feel what you feel. By the way, is this spirit a he, or an it?"

"Izlank took on any gender it wished. Spirits aren't male or female. Only the human body and its physiology dictates the gender."

"Hmm, interesting. Well, when it animated your body, it was trying very hard to make love to me, but when I threw it off, and your body along with it, it escaped and left you behind the barbecue pit. Did you remember what had happened?"

"Not at first. It always would take me a day or two to put everything together. That first night at the campground, when I saw that strange flash of light in the sky . . . ?"

"Izlank?"

"Yeah. He was announcing his arrival. I was terrified."

"But you accepted him in other lives."

"I didn't have you in other lives, Jim."

"Are you saying I'm that special? I don't think so."

Mary laughed. "No, I had many wonderful partners in previous lives, but Izlank always managed to come between us. I'm so sorry I deceived you, but can you see now why I couldn't tell you?"

"I would have thought you were crazy."

"Exactly. It came to a harrowing end, didn't it?"

"Yeah. But we have your father on our side, now."

Mary patted Jim's arm. "You and my father have set me free, Jim."

---

The wedding was beautiful, and Mary was a stunningly beautiful bride. When the minister asked, 'Who gives this woman away in holy matrimony,' Katherine stood up proudly and said, "Her father and I." Mary choked back tears.

When the wedding was over, and when it was time for Mary and Jim to leave on their honeymoon, Jim smiled at himself for having the brains to give Mary a most original wedding present. "I have something for you," he said.

"What? Show me," she said excitedly. Mary's eyes were bright with happiness.

He led her out into the street. There sat a '57 Chevy, black, with chrome mufflers.

"Where is it?" she asked. "What are you giving me?"

Jim pointed. "It's there. There's your wedding gift. Do you like it?"

Mary's eyes suddenly went wide. "I . . . I love it, Jim! I love it! Come on! Drive me away!"

"Nope, nope." He shook his head. "It's not my car. It's your car. You're driving."

"But I need . . ."

"Done," he interrupted. He felt the eyes of his mother and of Katherine on his back. They predicted that Mary would love the car. They were right. Mothers were always right. He opened the driver's side door.

"The controls! They're cross linked so I can drive it!" She kissed him hard. A cheer from the wedding guests who were now gathered on the curb went up.

"Don't thank me for that. Thank Matt-Mr. Mechanic. He did all this for you." Jim glanced at Matt who was standing nearby.

"Matthew," Mary said, "come here."

He went to her and she kissed him. "Thank you, Matthew. You and my banjo man are two very conniving people."

"I know," he said. "That's why you love us so much."

Mary pushed herself out of her manual chair. She folded it up and put it behind the front seat. Then she lowered herself into the car seat, her wedding dress spilling to the floor and filling the cabin with billows of satin and netting. Jim waved to the guests and made an expression as if he was terrified of Mary's driving. Then he got in the car and closed the door. Mary kissed him again and started the engine. She jammed the accelerator lever and Jim's head snapped back as the tires squealed against the road. Mary smiled at him in that way that filled Jim with the love she had for him. He looked down the road. Then he looked at Mary. "Drive on, high priestess, drive on," he said.