| Subject: Great ot see you back! |
Author:
MichelleB
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Date Posted: 08:14:59 03/02/01 Fri
In reply to:
Jack Mulhern
's message, "Stones for Walls....14" on 07:09:13 03/02/01 Fri
>Stones For Walls-- Chapter 14
>
>
>They had set up an appointment with each other for
>3:00pm. Often it was the only way they could get down
>to the serious problems of the world. Having an
>appointment meant they had to plan in advance. Get and
>outline staight in their minds.
>
>
>He was waiting and watching for the sun to set, trying
>to catch glimpses of migratory birds through the field
>lenses when he caught site of her running up the hill
>toward the lodge. She was all flushed and breathless
>and as she neared he imagined her naked with just a
>towel over her. Thinking like that had gotten him
>through some pretty sketchy times when he was without
>her. He had thrown some bread sticks into the oven and
>was enjoying the aroma. She shot a look toward him
>that made him realize she caught him watching her. He
>snickered to himself then thinking that if she wasn’t
>used to his admiring glances then there was little he
>could do. He found himself worrying about her. She was
>putting way to many empty bottles into the trash. But,
>then their job was high stress. She was still painting
>and some of her stuff struck him as extraordinary, she
>had painted up several large canvases with life-sized
>images of people, eyes staring out accusingly from the
>canves. Haunting or confrontational stares of
>imaginary people. He asked her once what she found in
>painting and she had told him she was searching for
>herself. Her stuff was large, dark and colorful with
>what seemed to him to be a lot of angry strokes. In
>his mind he preferred Bateman's wildlifes. Nothing to
>chance a real picture in which he could emmerse
>himself. He worried about her most all the time. She
>was finding the country a little disconcerting.
>
> She kept herself active during the down times. Canoed
>the lake everyday to keep up endurance levels and they
>sparred together often and sometimes it got ugly. He
>never had to be tough with her, but after a couple of
>drinks she’d get belligerent and he’d have to take her
>down. He wouldn't of thrown the spar, she wanted truth
>and that's how it went.
>
>He heard her steps on the deck stairs and reached into
>cooler. He capped a cold one, reached it out in her
>direction as she cleared the top step.
>
>She engaged him with another one of her blinding
>smiles and he looked away out into the sun and felt
>his eyes burn with the brilliance.
>
>“Let’s do it”, she said all business as she stepped
>past him into the living room.
>
>“Want to relax a little bit before we think about hard
>things”?
>
>“Michael, I’ll relax after we have a plan”.
>
>He made that little bow like she’d seen vassals do in
>movies. She threw back a long pull from the bottle
>clearing half its contents.
>
>
>“Yeah, maybe I would like to relax a bit…give me about
>20 minutes”.
>She bent forward and kissed him solid and hopeful her
>lips over his soft and warm. The salt taste of her
>thrilling him.
>
>
>He thought he might like to see her get belligerent
>tonight.
>
>
>They were integrating into the system learning how to
>live in the world doing the community thing caring for
>the neighbors and establishing some roots. They had
>operated a safe house for over two years, now and were
>learning the basics of the job from the ground up.
>They were in on all the subtle changes that came just
>a centigrade from the boiling point. It was this part
>of the rodeo that could either curb the calf, brand
>the calf or kill. The early knowledge of many
>situations was often the angel that saved going into a
>world war. Two years of situations walking down the
>road and into their lodge. Their mission was to report
>their findings and recommendations to the PTB.
>
>He loved this life, for all its home-ness. For all its
>hope and through the last two years he’d noticed at
>times she had a certain joy that played about her. A
>quiet loveliness that made him want to see a kid or
>two in her arms.
>
>Their primary mission was to monitor, the underground.
>An ever-changing stream of people and situation that
>breezed across the lodge’s threshold. A sliver of sad
>humanity some children many families, drifters and
>killers all looking for shelter and a possible
>direction in which to go. It was a small slice that
>they both saw with 20/20. A view of the inhabitants of
>an evolving planet all living in the crest of a
>chaotic wave.
>
>
>Michael lounged in the chair watching the healthy fire
>he had built. He’d lolled his head back onto the chair
>and was admiring the rafters they had raised together
>when they put the roof on the lodge. They had a dream
>that what they were building together would change
>their lives as well as the face of diplomacy. They
>built a safe house. A Paradise on earth.
>
>He had put the breadsticks in a cloth-lined basket and
>polished off four while he waited and was reaching for
>a fifth when he heard her step.
>
>"Are those warm"? She asked as she settled into the
>chair opposite him.
>
>"Of course". He said as he placed the one he had drawn
>out into her outstretched hand. She smelled like
>paradise. She was paradise. They lived in Paradise.
>
>The time had come for them to plan their first mission
>in two years. A mission that would take them far away
>from here, two years away from paradise to the streets
>of Baghdad.
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