14 in the chute, baby

“What have you to report from the land of dreams this morn, oh fair Gryphon?” Lilly smiled as she poured juice.

“Nothing exciting this time. I seem to have gone back in time a little, because now instead of being sacrificed, I’m carving tables.”

Lilly laughed. “What kind of tables? TV tables? Round tables? Mead-drinking tables?”

“Tables for a princess.”

Lilly’s eyes widened briefly, impressed. “You must be some carpenter. The princess. Nice work!” At least he’s not waking up in a cold sweat this time, she thought to herself. “So, going off with your little bookstore employee today?”

“Why do you call her that?”

“No reason, I guess. When are we going to meet her?”

“She’s pretty shy. I don’t know. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“It’s just good to see you smiling this much again. It’s been a while. Really smiling.”



He picked Andie up after breakfast, and they set out for the museum. As they wandered through, Gryphon explained an awful lot of things to her. “Do you have a room here or something?” she asked. He smiled.

“I’m actually … I have a degree in marine biology.”

She stopped and stared at him. “What are you doing delivering books?”

He smiled abashedly. “I … kind of punched my boss. In the jaw. Kind of got fired.”

She was staring at him. “You punched your boss.”

“Hey, you barely know me.”

“Wow. Why?”

“Because we just met.”

“You’re funny. Why’d you sock him?”

“There was this dolphin we were rehabilitating. He wanted to set her free way too soon. I spent 10 hours a day with this animal, and she was anything but ready to go back into the wild when he wanted. But Joe, he had contacted TV stations, newspapers, magazines. Usually there’s not that much attention given to these things; marine mammals are released back into their habitats fairly regularly, but the media don’t flock to see it. It’s been done, you know?”

“Why this time?”

“The dolphin had bonded with a deaf girl. Made Nightline.”

“Sounds like the kind of animal some people wouldn’t want released into the wild at all.”

“We had had a strict policy of keeping the public away from the animals completely, except for what they could see from the underwater viewing area or the arena behind the fence. No tricks, though. The only training these guys got was in how to live in the wild again. We were strictly rehab. Then Joe came in as the new administrator and thought it would be good PR. We run for the most part on donations. He fired three people within a month, all who fought him on giving the public such close and involved access to the animals. Such a stupid, stupid thing he’s doing. Or was doing. He’s been replaced since I left. You can’t teach animals to fend for themselves, to not rely on humans for survival, if you’re letting people swim with them, squealing and petting them and clapping when they jump and nuzzle. They won’t leave humans, or will get hurt or worse when they trust the wrong ones. They’ll still be dependent on them, and then they’ll die out in the ocean.”

“How could someone like that, who had such a different attitude toward what you were doing there, get to be in charge of it?”

“Politics, I think. The board of directors was getting concerned about cash flow. This rich guy in Boca had a son-in-law who had worked at one of those swim-with-the-dolphin places, had a degree in zoology and stuff. Joe. He replaced the previous woman, who was just great and left to work in Australia for a while. They wanted donations from the father-in-law. They thought the rest of us would be able to balance him out. But they gave him too much rein.”

“But he’s not still there?”

“No, some petition from some marine mammals fund or somewhere finally got him booted.”

“Could you go back?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think that would look too good, hiring back the guy who punched out his boss. They’re still way too into the PR thing. But maybe someday. I’ve kind of had to cool my heels for a while, stay out of it so people don’t remember me as a hothead. Which I’m really not, honest,” he smiled appealingly.

“I never thought so,” she smiled back.

They drove back to her house. “Would I be going too far, asking for too much time, if I asked you to dinner tonight?”

She was thrilled at the idea of seeing him more today. “Of course not. I’d love to.”

“Another place without crayons on the table. There have to be at least two in this town.”



There were crayons, but only at the register. After dinner they strolled along the boardwalk. They stopped to lean against the railing and watch the waves roll under the darkening sky. Gryphon watched Andie as she looked out over the ocean; he reached out and brushed back some hair the wind was blowing into her face. A shiver ran down her arms and back, and she looked at him then. As he let his arm fall down around her waist, he leaned in and gently kissed her cheek, right beside the corner of her mouth.

The weight of his arm around her waist felt so good, so safe and reassuring. She blushed at his kiss; he turned to the ocean too, and she moved in close at the same time that he pulled her close against his side. A moment later she slid her arm around his waist. He turned to her and, again brushing the hair from her sunburned face, took her into his arms in an embrace that felt like the end of time.

Don't look now, but it's part 13!

He was hammering out behind a small stone building. A large table appeared to be taking shape under his hands. He looked around at a small village. He felt a sudden unease, for no reason he could place; he was just going about his trade. He looked to the sky — no dark clouds; sun shining. He looked at the table beneath his hands: thick, dark wood. He heaved it over and saw some intricate inlay.

“Conall!” a woman’s voice called. He turned to the mossy building and saw a woman with graying hair walking toward him.

“Mother,” he smiled.

She bent to look at the carving and ran her hand over it. “Conall, this is beautiful. The princess will be mighty pleased.” She straightened and looked at her son, a grim smile on her face. “This is not the extent of her desires for you, you know.”

He resumed hammering, although he had finished the table completely. “I don’t know why you say such things.”

“My son, my heart, I know you see what I do. What need has she of more tables?” He was silent. “I know your answer for her. But you must take care. She holds her father too much in her sway. It has been rumored that she has sent for some new … advisers. No one will say more than that, but there is fear in their eyes when they speak of it.”

“There’s nothing to be concerned about. Advisers or no advisers, I have no interest in the whims of the princess. And that,” he set the heavy table on its feet, “is the end of that. But we need the money this will bring.”

“We can get the money through other means. Other requests.”

“There is no reason to do other than we are doing. The faire is in a month. We will sell much as carpenters to the royal family.”

His mother smiled wanly and went back inside.

Hey! What's that over there? Why, it's PART 12

After which things should get more interesting again

“So tell me about this dream you had on the beach the other night,” Gryphon said.

She grimaced. “It was so real. And, well, I haven’t remembered my dreams in a long time. Since Alex died, probably. But even back then, I don’t remember their being this vivid.” He was studying her closely now; what she was describing sounded awfully familiar.

“And it kind of made sense,” she continued. “In its own world, I mean. No one was turning into other people; I wasn’t home then suddenly at Piggly Wiggly; no blurry vagueness at the edges. There was something really going on.” She noticed how his attention had intensified and got a little nervous. “But, you know, whatever, it’s not worth telling, really.”

Their houses were only a few hundred yards apart, and they walked on the beach again toward them now. The sun was setting, and the moon had already appeared over the eastern horizon. “It’ll be full in two days,” Gryphon commented.

“It’s been years since I’ve seen the moon rise over the ocean.”

“When were you here last, before this year?”

She sighed in thought. “I came with my parents not too long after Alex died. They thought it would help me.”

“Not much could at that point, I’ll wager.”

“No. I sat slumped in my bed a lot. They were pretty worried, I guess. But … now that I think about it, they probably helped pull me through more than any of us realized.”

“Where are they now?” he asked.

“Right now, the Appalachians. They go there a couple of times a year with Habitat for Humanity. They live in Sarasota.”

“How great of them to do that.”

“Yeah, they’re good people.”

“Brothers or sisters?”

“My brother works for Motorola in Albuquerque. Just him and me. What about you, besides Lilly?”

“A brother in Vermont, where my mom still spends half the year, and a sister in the city. New York. They’re both in publishing.” They were quiet for a while as they walked. Andie had been in journalism before Alex died, but she said nothing. Then she wondered if it was OK that she wasn’t saying anything, if she should be talking, but thought, Maybe not; maybe it’s OK to be silent. He seemed OK with it. Argh; this inner torture was driving her nuts. What was happening to her? I'm enjoying this, so at least that, she thought. But at the same time she was terrified that it would end at any second. It had been so long since anything good had happened to her, and she was very, very afraid to get used to it.

They got to her house and she fumbled for a moment, not wanting him to go yet but not knowing how to ask him to stay. “Can I use your facilities?” he asked, smiling. Problem solved.

They went inside. When he emerged again she asked if he’d like some tea. “If you have chamomile, I’m all yours,” he answered.

She smiled. “Of course. Boxes and boxes of chamomile.” Turtle came out then from somewhere, stretching and blinking. He walked up to Gryphon and sniffed his shoes, then his hand as the man leaned down and reached out to him. Accepted, Gryphon scratched Turtle’s ears.

Andie came over to them then. “You must know animals,” she said. “I’ve never seen anyone else scratch a cat’s ears like that. I think it’s why he stayed in the first place.”

She began fixing the smoky cat his dinner while they waited for the water to boil. The kettle whistled while her hands were involved in cat food, and Gryphon moved to make the tea. They heard a meowing from outside, and he went to the screen door. “Do you know this scruffy little guy?”

She came to the door, a can of cat food still in her hand. “Is he back? Poor thing, I think he’s homeless.”

Gryphon took the can from her and plopped its contents into the bowl she’d left out the day before. “I think he’s she.”

“I don’t think I can stand to leave her out here any longer. But I also don’t know how kindly Turtle will take to a guest.”

“I’ll take her home,” Gryphon said. “Lilly’s a sucker for strays, and the kids will love her. If they don’t maul her to pieces first. Hopefully she’ll stick around while I drink my tea …”

Andie smiled. He wanted to stay. Or was he just thirsty? No one is actually thirsty for tea, she thought. No one outside Britania, at least ...

They sat on the back porch, watching the sky darken and the moon rise higher into the now-starry sky. Again she was almost afraid to believe this was happening. How was it that this man, this very, very good-looking man (deep breath …), had come to be spending the evening with her? She looked at him as he talked about his nephews and niece. His green eyes caught the rising moon, and his smile seemed to warm the air around them. He looked to be pretty strong under his T-shirt, and she caught herself imagining him without it. She felt herself blush, and thanked her slight sunburn and the dim moonlight for camouflage.

Because of the cat, she drove Gryphon home. He asked if she’d like to go to the oceanographic museum the next day, and she said yes. After getting out of the car with the cat carrier, he leaned back down and smiled in at her before walking away, not saying anything, just smiling. She drove home thrilled and heart a-flutter.

Again she thought of Alex while lying in bed, without even meaning to.

HEY! Looky there! Part 11 coming your way!

In which things are a little boring but we get through some information, and also I need an actual computer chair

3:30 the next day found Andie out on the beach playing with Turtle. As she turned in the wind to pull her hair out of her face, she saw Gryphon approaching, carrying a picnic basket. “Do they make sunscreen for cats?” he asked as he stopped.

“Actually, white ones can get skin cancer from the sun,” she answered, looking at her grey tabby. “Where’s your passel?”

“I got the rest of the day off. Are you up for a picnic?”

She walked closer. “Sure. What’re you offering?” He opened the lid to reveal sandwiches and salads and fruit. It looked heavy.

“There’s a nice park just up the beach,” he said.

“Just let me get Turtle indoors.”

They walked to the park and settled under a tree on some beach towels Andie had grabbed before leaving. After a while Gryphon asked if she’d ever been married. The sadness he’d seen behind her eyes spread across her face. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”

“No, no,” she sighed. “It’s OK.”

“I’ve just seen something in your eyes, a long-ago sadness or something.”

She sighed and began to tell him then about Alex, from the day they’d met in high school to the day he let out his last breath. He felt pain for her loss and her subsequent years of solitude.

“I’m so sorry, Andie.”

“It was a long time ago now. Sometimes I can’t believe how long.”

“You’ve been alone ever since?”

She shrugged. “I guess I didn’t want to be around anyone. Or know how to anymore. I wasn’t able to care about anything. Sometimes I don’t know why I got up in the morning. I don’t know why anything happened these past seven years.”

“But now you do want to get up in the morning?”

“Yeah. I don’t know what happened. It’s like something brought me back from a long, long way away. I think my landlady is responsible, actually. It seemed to start when I was here with her a few months ago.”

“She sounds like a great lady.”

“She is.”

They packed up the picnicky remains and headed into town, ostensibly for ice cream. “What about you? You’re great with your sister’s kids. Have you been married?”

“Now you get to hear my story,” he said soberly.

They were walking slowly home when he finished. “So, I do and I don’t have a daughter.”

“I think you do.”

“By now, cripes, he’s her father now. She was far too young to remember me.”

“Maybe. And maybe you’d be surprised.”