May 12, 1976
Rural Oklahoma
"We've got one down and running!"
The words fell quickly from Jessica Gray Cloud's lips, alerting home base of a tornado on the ground. She stood poised with CB in hand, her pickup truck door open as she fixed her gaze on a dark ropelike funnel that was now racing to her west. Her jacket fluttered in the wind, her hair flying into her face. The smell of fresh rain on the young crops as well as ozone from lightning hung heavy in the air. The fierce wind rippled over the fields in waves.
"All right! Season's open!" Howie announced triumphantly, videocamera in hand, ecstatic at being able to catch the first twister of the season. "What do you think, Jess?" he asked, not taking his eye off the camera's viewfinder. "Should we follow it?"
Jessica breathed deeply, allowing adrenaline to race through her body. She focused on the whirling cloud, knowing that such storms shifted direction quickly and with little notice. On a straight gravel road like the one they were on now, the duo could easily be caught if the tornado decided to switch direction. But Jessica Gray Cloud knew which way it would go. The wind, the boiling of the clouds, and the graceful ghostlike shifting of the funnel told her. Not in words, but in a feeling, which radiated from the storm's awesome power and rippled against her skin like waves.
"Let's go!" she yelled over the screaming wind, jumping into the driver's seat as she did so. Jessica started the engine, shifted into gear, and jerked back onto the gravel road, pushing up to a safe but quick 45 mph, keeping behind and parallel to the whirling funnel's path. They turned onto a state highway and she punched up the gas to 65. Howie leaned slightly out the window with his camera, the tornado still within his sights. Jessica turned for a moment to look at him as he peered through the camera, grinning wide.
Howie treated such chases like a little boy, while Jessica was always more reserved. But that didn't mean she was any less excited; the sheer force of such storms always set her blood rushing in her veins. Jessica knew the storm better than Howie. To him, it was an unknown wonder waiting for discovery, beyond his present knowlege. To her, it was the unfolding of a story already told, yet slightly different each time.
Jessica kept one hand steady on the wheel, the other cluching the CB. "Turning southwest," she said in a level voice, half to the CB and half to Howie. She kept her eyes riveted on the funnel, slowing only when they passed through a small town. After twenty more miles of racing along the hail-swept countryside, the tornado dissipated and returned to its pulsating womb in the sky.
Howie let loose a wild whoop, leaping from the truck as she slowed and stopped. "Jess, did you see that? Did you see it?" He laughed hysterically, his excitement as high as it had been when he had first started chasing years ago.
"Why no, I didn't," she said dryly, smiling and leaning forward on the steering wheel. "I missed the whole thing."
Howie laughed again. "Man, that was great! What say we celebrate? I'll take you out to lunch. Italian food."
Jessica opened her mouth and was about to say "sure" when her ears picked up the eerie cries of ambulance and police sirens behind her, sending a chill up her spine. Her smile faded, and she suddenly snapped back to reality. "Sorry, I gotta turn back. You want me to drop you off somewhere?"
Howie frowned. "They'll do fine without you, Jess. C'mon, let's celebrate."
Jessica shook her head, turning grave. "Jack said he's short this week and asked me to help."
Shrugging, Howie told her, "I'll wait here. There's a little cafe a couple blocks down. Meet you there."
Jessica put the truck in gear and spead back to the heart of the town, a wave of irritation coming over her. She had been trained in Acme's Academy. She had basic medical training. She had been taught that if people needed her, she could not refuse. Didn't Howie know that aftermath was part of the chase, whether it be a violent storm's wreakage or the burnt remains left by an arsonist? Didn't he realize that the initial danger was only one of many hazards? Didn't he know that there were people behind the wreckage, not just numbers, case studies, faceless names on files? Jessica slowed as she reached an area blasted by the storm, and picked her way through fallen trees.
An entire subdivision had been wiped off the map. Some houses lay in piles of wood and frame, others had been blown away completely. Jessica watched people emerge from the wreckage, staring with dazed shock at the scattered flotsam and jetsam that had once been their homes. Jessica glanced anxiously at the boiling green clouds ahead. More hail would come, and these people had no shelter. The air was still damp and hot, making it difficult to draw breath.
Police and ambulance lights flashed eerily in the dusklike dimness, the storm still blotting out the noonday sun. Seeing a state patrol car, Jessica stopped and jumped out of her truck, hailing the officer standing next to it. "Hey, Jack! Where do you need me?"
Jack stepped up quickly toward her, trying to hide his worried expression with a businesslike manner, his voice tight. "Jessica, good to see you." He motioned to her to follow him up a driveway. "We've got someone trapped in this one. Can you do that adrenaline thing you learned in San Francisco and get them out?"
"Yeah, no problem," she said, trotting quickly behind him.
A young man stood protectively over his wife, who was crouching and peering tearfully into a small opening in the wreckage. She had one arm in the opening, calling to a child whose frightened cries could faintly be heard. "It's okay honey, mama's coming, you're gonna be okay..." she glanced up anxiously as Jack and Jessica approached, her eyes wild, hair in dissarray, her words coming forth in a rush. "Please, my daughter's in there, please can you get her out? We left her home alone when the storm came..."
Jessica nodded, her eyes shifting from the frantic woman to the task at hand, before the woman's contagious panic could enter Jessica's mind. "Jack, can you grab hold of that beam over there? And you..." she turned to the husband, who stood glassy-eyed and stared at her blankly. "Can you get hold of the one on the left?"
He blinked and gazed vacantly at her for a moment more, then snapped back to reality and nodded, nearly stumbling over himself to help.
Jessica squatted and took hold of the beam nearest to the opening. "When I say go, lift up," she called to the two men. Crouching, she concentrated and summoned her strength as she had been taught. She waited for the right moment, then shouted, "Now!"
A flash of adrenaline coursed though her body, with the same kind of power and vehemence that a karate master could summon to break wood. Her muscles knotted and she thrust the beam upward with all her strength. The two men lifted their beams as well, helped by the might given to her through Adrenaline Control. She kept the flow of the survival hormone flowing as a small girl squirmed out from under the wreckage and tumbled into her mother's open arms.
Jessica dropped the beam, her head spinning and her breath coming fast. Adrenaline Control took practice, and she hadn't used it since she left San Francisco. She wiped her forehead numbly as Jack clapped his hand on her shoulder and the couple tearfully pressed forward to thank her.
*****
Back en route to Oklahoma City, Jessica's whole body hurt as she drove her truck down the highway, Howie grumbling next to her. Lifting beams, administering first aid, getting little old ladies out of basements and carting the whole lot of people off to a shelter for the night had drained her body of all its energy. She had almost forgotten him in all the commotion, and now was wishing that she had.
"This sort of thing has happened for years," Howie said with an airy wave of his hand. "People always get by. Triumph of the human spirit, you know. Where do you suppose all those authors we read about in English class get their ideas?"
"It doesn't hurt to help," Jessica said slowly, paying more attention to her aching body than to him.
"You can't help everybody."
"It doesn't hurt to try."
Howie snorted. "They can get along fine without you, Jess. I need you. I need you to look over our data so we can figure out how these storms work, and then, that will be a big help. Then maybe we can warn some of these morons so that they're not running around like chickens with their heads cut off."
"Oh, shut up," Jessica growled.
Howie turned to look at her. "What? You know how stupid some of these people can be, Jess. Armageddon itself wouldn't convince them that it's time to go in."
"Sometimes there are accidents," Jessica told him, her mind drifting to another family she had tried to help, but that hadn't been so lucky. Jessica shook her head, trying to rid her mind of the image of the young mother, tearing at her hair, crying out with her eyes fixed on the sky..."We left him home alone! We shouldn't have left him alone! Oh God, why did we leave him in the house alone?"
"They don't need your help, Jess." Howie was saying, breaking back into her awareness. "It's a waste of time."
Jessica felt her blood boil. His voice had somehow turned cold and whiny to her ears. "You weren't there, you didn't see," she said suddenly, turning on him. "Besides, Donnekahshaie Code dictates that if you are in a position to help someone, then you can't refuse your duty as a..."
"You're not in San Francisco anymore!" Howie exclaimed, exasperated. "You left there to work here, remember? You're not a detective, you're a student of the University of Oklahoma, a member of the Okie City Stormtrackers, and you do your research under me!"
Furious, Jessica yelled, "Then find somebody else to work under your little project, mister big shot graduate student! I don't take orders! Neither does anybody else on the Okie team!" Her lips formed a snarl as she added, "Just because you're going to head a project that hasn't even been approved for grant yet doesn't mean you can tell me what to do!"
Howie raised his hands in a defensive stance. "Whoa, Jess, whoa. I didn't mean...well, I just think the project's important, that's all. Really," he added, when Jessica still glared at him. "I need everything you can give me for the project."
Jessica kept her expression harsh, but inside she smirked. She knew she was too valuable to lose. Howie may be the graduate student while I'm just a freshman, he may have had countless more hours of classes dealing with complex terms and equations that I've never heard of, but I'm still the one that knows when and where the tornadoes will strike!
"I'll stay," Jessica said slowly, as if she had ever considered leaving. "If I can help with the clean-up after each chase."
"Done," Howie said, nodding eagerly.
Jessica hid her disgust at the expression on his face. He thinks he's being generous.
"You have to come to the lab immediately afterward, though," he added.
Jessica let her irritation come forth, and her face twisted into a frown. "I have work to do. I do have class, you know. I didn't enroll at the University just to make things easier for you."
"All right, all right. This weekend, then."
She said nothing, but gave him a small nod.
*****
Jessica lay sprawled onto her hard bed in her dorm room, the light of the setting sun shining red through the window. Waves of irritation still ran through her body when she thought of Howie's words and his self-satisfied smirks. If I didn't love stormtracking so much, I'd get on the first plane back to San Francisco!
But would that really solve anything? Jessica wasn't sure. The main quibble she had with the Agency--amazing as it was--was the fact that like most large influential agencies, it tended to listen only to the needs of the high-class dignitaries that spoke to Chief Lynn, with only a vague awareness of what a crime or other problems really meant for the ordinary people of their nation. Jessica liked helping ordinary people, first-hand. That way she knew her help was going directly where it needed to go. In its own way, the Agency was a bit like the Okie City Stormtrackers, brilliantly paving the way to solve a major problem, but forgetting about the real purpose of the road. Everyone at the Agency had been surprised to see her deny the eventual honored title of Ambassador. She had done it for a reason, in order to work with her own two hands back home and get the job done right. But even back home she ran into problems...
Jessica sighed. She lay on the bed for a few more minutes, then got up and sat down at her desk. A half-done English paper was stuck in her typewriter, which she attempted to finish, but she stopped pecking at the keys when all the words started blurring together on the page. Yawning, she glanced at the half-dozen unopened letters from Rodger that were collecting dust on her desk. She picked one up and opened it.
Dear Jess, the letter began. Even Shirley's getting into the act. I realize that Carmen's muteness is a sign of something terrible that happened to her years before, but I feel that the Agency's constant urging to get her to speak will only make her more withdrawn.
What?
Jessica flipped through the letters, and selected the one with the oldest postmark.
Dear Jess, I have finally convinced Aunt Jo to adopt the girl I met in the park! Her name is Carmen Sandiego, and I wish you could see her. She's so smart, and cuter little girl you couldn't find...
So Rodger had adopted the little girl Jessica had heard about that day she, Rodger, and Shirley had eaten together that last time in the Bayside Cafe. Jessica smiled in amusement, both at the letter and the memory of their last chat in the Cafe. It was rather hard to believe--but then with Rodger you never knew. Jessica read on, becoming more interested as Rodger spoke of how the two had come together.
Shirley thinks I'm being egotistical, but I honestly believe that Carmen had wanted me to adopt her from the beginning. And I'm glad I did. Even though she's never said a word to me, I feel as if I've found someone that really understands me. It's hard to explain, but I can tell from her look, and from her touch. And she knows I understand her as well. Does that make any sense? It does to me.
As she read through the letters, she noted that Rodger spoke mostly about Carmen, though there was also a large amount of usual news, statements about R-II's progress, and joking complaints about Shirley. Jessica grinned, wondering if Rodger would ever figured out exactly why Shirley followed him around all the time. She frowned as she picked up where she'd left off on the latest letter.
I want to help her, but I'm not sure of what to do. I honestly believe that she will speak again when she feels like it, but her silence does worry me, as well as everyone else at the Agency. I want to help her but I'm not sure what to do.
Jessica read on, facinated, as Rodger described the girl's behavior, as well as his puzzlement over the fact that even if she had at one point been terrified by something, she was now very bold and didn't seem to have any of the usual childhood fears, of darkness or thunder or strange places. Just the opposite. He had to restrain her from wandering all over the city, her curiosity and assertiveness was that high.
Jessica picked up a pencil and absently started chewing on the end. She stared at the pile of letters on her desk, turning things over in her mind. Jessica herself had seen this sort of thing before. Anyone who ever planned to work in Ethnic Relations had. She admitted that the Agency was better at knowing people and their problems better than anyone else; but she could also see how the Agency could do still more. She realized that the only reason that the Agency hadn't done more to help Carmen--as Jessica would do if she was there--was because they hesitated out of respect for Rodger. He could be right, after all, and he knew the girl best. Yet, from reading his letters, Jessica knew that he secretly wanted help.
Jessica thought for a while, then opened one of her desk drawers and took out some stationery. She answered Rodger's letters, then took out more paper and began another one to Omoro.
May 16, 1976
Acme Detective Agency
"Ai se quenya, mala di timya!" Behold the sunrise, and a new dawn!
Omoro stood straight and tall in the newborn sunshine, taking in deep breaths of the ocean breeze. Warm fingers of light swept over the city, rays sparkling on the water and in the windows of buildings. A day for new beginnings...
Walking back toward the Agency, Omoro turned over in his mind the letter he had recieved from Jessica. He knew the boy Rodger well enough to see the same things that Jessica did. He had seen enough in his own lifetime to know why the girl Carmen chose not to speak. Yes, chose. I can feel when a child's tongue has been stolen through witness to a tragedy.
Omoro had already come up with a plan. If the girl could not find the words to speak of her memories, then he would give some to her.
*****
"So anyway, this guy comes up to me, and says he hasn't eaten anything in a long time. So I bit him!"
Carmen looked up in puzzlement as R-II started laughing hysterically. Suddenly he paused, and reflected a moment. "I think I told that one wrong..."
R-II had been babbling for hours, taking virtually everything he had heard out of his memory banks and regurgitating it for no particular reason. Carmen wondered absently if perhaps R-II was trying to get her to speak as well. She was presently taking apart a bit of hardware Rodger had taken out of the computer, on the charge that it was defective. Transistors and other small bits of molded metal and plastic littered the floor beside her.
She heard the Computer Room door open, and Rodger entered with an unusual guest. "I know how you feel about Donnekahshaie, Omoro," he was saying. "But I don't see how teaching her another language when she doesn't speak one to begin with is going to help."
"Donnekahshaie has many word that English does not have," Omoro explained slowly. "She understand English, this you know. But you think something bad happen to her. You aunt explain other way to express. But you not want this. I say, give her more word to explain feelings. You know expression, 'too bad for words'? Donnekahshaie have word even for this type thing."
"But how can you teach her these words if you can't translate them?"
"There is a way. Let me try."
Carmen looked up as Omoro walked toward her. She smiled up at him, looking into his eyes. He looked as if he were about to offer her something.
"You would like to walk, yes? We go outside, I show you something." He offered her his hand. Carmen raised hers, a bit hesitantly.
"I'm coming too," Rodger said, offering her his own hand. She took it without hesitation. Then she felt Omoro reach down and take her other hand. His hand was surprisingly soft yet strong, holding her small one protectively in his grasp. It was warm. She let it stay there, not pulling back, not grasping tighter. The three of them strolled leisurely out of the Agency, Carmen trotting between Rodger and Omoro.
*****
Omoro walked slowly, taking large strides through the city, the small girl's tiny hand resting in his own. Absently he began humming a tune from home. He looked down at the girl, her dark curls...had it been that long ago, five years, that he had lost his own little girl, her face also framed in midnight curls? His mind drifted back to her, Chinuna, a boy's name for a girl with the strength and spirit of a boy. Dressed in bright colors. Singing and dancing in the rain, a voice like a song. Always the first to greet him when he came home. An ivory smile that could always melt his heart...
Then, fire. Fire and terror, he could hear her screaming, could hear her calling for her father, he could not get to her, he could not save her, could only stand by helplessly as he heard her pleading cries, the heat, the fear, the loss, the pain, ashes, raging flames...
Chinuna!
"Hey, you all right?" Omoro heard Rodger say. The images swirled and disappeared and he was back in San Francisco, the two children staring at him with eyes full of concern.
Omoro wiped his brow. Five years, and still the memories were as clear as if it had happened yesterday. "I am all right," he said haltingly. "Some years ago, in Africa, I saw many bad thing. Many political problems. Edges blur, friends become enemies, people lose all direction. People lose other things, too," he reflected sadly. "Bad times, everyone loses someone they love." He clutched the girl's hand slightly before remembering who she was.
Omoro inhaled deeply, and changed the subject. "Sometimes is hard for people to speak of what they see. No words. But Donnekahshaie, now, have word for everything. I show you." He made a quick look round, taking in the city. The two children stood next to him, Carmen expectant, Rodger curious.
Omoro pointed to a couple arguing. "Ixma. Anger," he told her. "English have other word too, fury, ire. But not specific." He pointed to a man swearing at a new chest of drawers he could not fit in his front door. "Ixmarika." Frustration-anger. He pointed to a young woman scolding her little boy for playing in the street. "Ixmacari." Concern-anger. He pointed to a wild-haired man shouting at passerby, prophesying doom. "Ixmaloci." Crazy-anger.
Rodger's eyebrows went up. "Interesting." He thought for a moment. "Is there a word for that annoying nagging Lynn does whenever she gets me in her sights?"
Omoro laughed, a rich laugh that made both the children smile. "Ixmazha, perhaps? Irrational anger, irritation, of someone in power."
Rodger grinned. "I'll have to remember that one."
Omoro turned back to the city. "Wisna, fear." He pointed to a squirrel scurrying away from them. "Wisnayai." Instinctive fear. He pointed to a shaking spectator who was watching a window-washer high above the steet. "Wisnaphai." Phobia, unnatural fear. He nodded at a tourist girl smaller than Carmen who clung to her mother and watched the traffic and cable cars pass by. "Wisnatrayu." Fear of the unknown.
"All right, let me see if I've got this straight...so a little old lady shaking her hands and screaming at a mouse in her tea would be wisnaphai," Rodger conjectured.
Omoro laughed again, glancing at him and the girl. She was smiling up at Rodger, holding his hand tightly. Omoro could sense the warmth between them. Rodger hovered protectively over her, though not restricting her in any way. She stayed close to his side, more out of fondness than fear. Omoro nodded, another word coming to mind.
"Kai," Omoro said, "Love." He pointed to a couple kissing under a tree. "Larikai." Romantic love. He pointed to a mother and father comforting a boy with a scratched knee. "Matikai, patikai." The love of a mother and father. Omoro turned to the side and pointed to a young woman hugging a giggling little girl. "Femisikai." The love between a mother and daughter. He nodded at a couple arguing in the doorway of their house, one of them tossing out the other's possessions. "Dhamochikai." False love, tainted love. Then he nodded toward Carmen and Rodger. "Telakai, love of friends," he told them. But it's so much more than that, he thought to himself. Telakai means loyalty, devotion, the expression of fear and feelings, really knowing one another...
Omoro pointed to a small girl blowing dandelion seeds across the park. "Salima." Simple pleasures. He pointed to a cluster of wildflowers in full bloom. "Sadoya." Simple beauty. He pointed to a group of friends sitting, talking, and laughing together. "Molidaru." Friendship, togetherness, belonging. They walked through a graveyard, and he nodded to a woman putting flowers on a grave. "Nadisikara." Sadness and longing for the departed.
They turned and began walking back toward the Agency, Omoro pointing out things and saying the words for them, Carmen silently watching and listening. Rodger made a few attempts at remembering the words.
"Larikai," he said, pointing to a boy with his arm around a girl's waist. Romantic love.
Omoro shook his head. "Dhamochikai." False love.
Rodger squinted. "How can you tell? They look like they're in love to me. He smirked. "See, they're all googly-eyed."
"Google-eye, that is sign of dhamochikai," Omoro explained. "Just like to be near each other. No talking, do not share feelings, do not share fears, thoughts..."
"Hey, wait a minute there. How can you tell they don't do that?"
Omoro shrugged. "Just something I sense."
"Just because they don't say anything doesn't mean they don't know each other," Rodger argued. "Maybe they already know these things. Maybe they can sense it in each other." He nodded toward Carmen. "She's never said a word to me, and we understand each other perfectly."
Omoro's eyebrows went up. "You know this for sure?"
*****
Carmen looked up at Rodger to see how he would react to this question. His mouth was open, but nothing was coming out. Omoro walked on, and Carmen followed. Rodger was sputtering out some response, but the fog was already blocking it from her mind. New fears crept inside her being. Did Rodger really consider her this word, telakari, even though she never returned any of the kind words he had spoken to her? Yes, she had thanked him for his kindness, his friendship, his understanding, but not in words. She had thought he could sense this, as she could often sense what he was feeling. But how well did he really know her?
Would her speaking bring them closer?
She could ask him all the questions that kept her awake at night. Would he always stay with her? Was she as much his friend as he was hers? Why did he adopt me? Does he know me as well as I think he does?
She could express all the concerns that kept her awake at night. How she feared that he would be stolen from her. That she would be alone again. That the man who had taken those she most cared for would come back, would take this new life and throw it away before her terrified eyes.
The old feeling of terror, the running, the wild urge to forget swept over her again. Ma...a loud noise, a young woman's still lifeless form...
Her heartbeat quickened, her breath came fast.The fog swam before her eyes, melting into her mind, wrapping her in its dark apathy, erasing the images...but also obscuring her sight of the people she lived with now, cutting her off. She shook her head, and jerked her hands to her head, pushing back her hair and rubbing her eyes, trying to free herself from the listlessness of the fog. She offered Rodger and Omoro her hands again, grasping their warmth with longing.
She glanced up at Rodger, once again practicing his Donnekahshaie with Omoro. A wild urge to participate, to do as he did, as everyone else did, seized her and she cast about for a person, a scene, that would bring words to her mouth.
They were in the park. People strolled along the hedges, some accompanied by children, some laughing, some shouting. A brown-haired woman caught Carmen's eye. She sat on a blanket with a little girl, probably her daughter, sleeping contentedly in her embrace. The woman stroked the girl's hair slowly, watching her sleep, her face showing her undivided love and devotion.
Ma...
Carmen's eyes filled with tears. She remembered that feeling, to be perfectly content, perfectly safe, dozing comfortably in her mother's arms. Warmth, love, kindess...femisikai. Her body grew heavy as a desperate longing seized her, for something she could no longer have, someone long dead...
She remembered the woman they had seen putting flowers on a grave. Now she knew what that woman was feeling. Sadness and longing for the departed...
"Nadisikara."
The word fell effortlessly from her lips, as the tears spilled from her eyes and washed the fog away.
*****
Rodger walked back to Josephine's apartment slightly shaken, wondering what the significance of the word Carmen had spoken could be. He wasn't even completely sure what nadisikara meant. Respect for the dead? Missing someone gone? Carmen was an orphan, so it was possible that the word referred to her parents, but Rodger wasn't even sure how old Carmen had been when she had lost them. Diane, for some reason, seemed reluctant to speak of the little she knew about Carmen's origins, and for all he knew Carmen could been orphaned as a baby. Carmen could even be referring to something else entirely. She had spoken in the park, and Rodger had seen nothing that had anything to do with gravestones or flowers.
He looked down at her, trotting by his side. To anyone else she seemed to have recovered from whatever shock that had brought tears to her eyes. But Rodger knew better. The little girl whom he had always seen as bold and afraid of nothing, never clingy or unsure, was now sticking very close to his side. She held his hand tightly with a tight grip, almost cutting off his circulation, as if she feared some unseen force would sweep him away.
"My, you're home early," Josephine commented as he stepped into the apartment. She peered into a pot on the stove. "Dinner won't be ready for half an hour yet."
"That's ok," Rodger said, collapsing on the couch and switching on the TV, which was not one of his usual habits. Carmen sat down at his side.
"You feeling all right, honey?" Josephine called from the kitchen.
"Yeah, I'm just...tired, that's all." He put his arm around Carmen, who was strangely stiff and alert.
Rodger did not speak much all throughout dinner. He kept glancing at Carmen, who picked at her food. Yet she did not leave the table until Rodger and Josephine were finished. She sat next to him when he plopped himself back down in front of the TV, but picked at a button on her blouse and kept getting up to wander around the apartment, never looking for or doing anything in particular. A couple times she touched his arm, as if she wanted to ask something, but when he looked at her she just shook her head.
*****
Rodger dozed in bed, not really awake yet not quite asleep. He was wandering through a kind of half-dream where he was being forced to explain to a big burly-looking man in Donnekahshaie why the little girl next to him didn't speak. Somehow he got the words wrong and ended up calling the man an ugly pig. Suddenly the man fastened his huge arms around Rodger's neck, pulling Rodger toward him...
Rodger woke up with a start. He was about to breathe a sigh of relief, when suddenly he realized that someone still had their hands around his neck....
His body jerked as he gasped in fright, and he craned his neck back fearfully. He exhaled loudly and relaxed when he saw who it was.
Carmen was lying next to him, on top of the covers, clinging to him like she might do with a teddy bear or security blanket. Puzzled, he unwrapped her arm from around his neck. He was about to lift her up and put her back into her own bed, but after a moment he thought better of it and let her stay there. After his heart settled down once more, he began drifting back into sleep, warmed by her small form next to him.
About halfway between sleep and wakefulness, he heard her whimper and turned sleepily to see her stirring in her sleep. Rodger placed his hand on her shoulder and gently shook her.
"Carmen?" He spoke softly. "What is it?"
She awoke with a shudder and a sob, and buried her face in his lap.
"What's wrong, little one?" he asked, but she didn't answer. She merely clung to him, crying, while Rodger held her. It was all he could do. His hands began to tremble, and panic crept into his mind from this uncharacteristic show of grief. What do I do?
"Talk to me, Bright Eyes. I know you can do it," he said softly. "Please, tell me what's wrong. You can tell me."
Carmen shook her head. Rodger placed his shaking hands on her dark curls, as he stroked them softly and tried to think of consoling words. "You can talk to me, Bright Eyes. You don't have to if you don't want to, but I'll listen to you, okay? Please talk to me..."
Carmen mumbled something inaudible.
"Hmm? What? You can talk to me..."
She turned her head slightly, still keeping her face hidden, but this time he could hear her words. "You...stay here. With me," she said in a small voice.
Rodger was stumped. "Stay here? Why, Bright Eyes, where would I go?"
She turned back into his lap.
That was the wrong thing to say... "I'm sorry Carmen, I didn't mean it that way. Are you afraid I'm going to go somewhere? I'm going to stay right here, in San Francisco with R-II and the Agency. And you'll be staying here with me. Nothing can change that."
Carmen raised her head and wiped at her eyes, searching Rodger's face. "Jo too?"
Rodger laughed and put her arms around her. "Yes, Aunt Jo too." He felt her relax slightly, and took a breath before delving deeper. "Are you afraid that we'll leave you? Did..." Rodger licked his lips, hoping he wasn't going too far. "Did your old family leave you?"
Carmen flinched, and Rodger started to stutter out an apology. "No," she said, but seemed unsure.
Rodger decided not to press further. "It's all right, Bright Eyes. Nothing's going to take you away from us." He felt her relax in his arms.
Rodger let her stay there for few minutes, then shifted her so that he could carry her back to her bed. "No," she said, half-asleep, even before he stood, the shadow of a smile touching her face.
"Yes," he said softly, carrying her carefully. "It's late." He set her down gingerly and pulled the covers over her. He watched for a few minutes as she settled into sleep, then went back into his own bed and fell into a dreamless slumber.
May 17, 1976
Josephine's Apartment
"Rodger!" Josephine called from the kitchen. "Get up, time for breakfast!" She turned her attention back to the pancakes on the stove, looking up after a few minutes when Carmen trotted in and scrambled into a chair. Josephine winked at her. "You certainly are the perky one, aren't you?"
Rodger walked in about ten minutes later, yawning and scratching the mop of hair on his head.
"Now, how many pancakes do you want?" Josephine asked Carmen.
"Three," Carmen told her.
Josephine nearly dropped her skillet.
"Well, don't just stand there, Aunt Jo," Rodger said, grinning as he got into his seat. "The child's talking to you."
"When did she start talking?" Josephine asked incredulously, trying to work three pancakes onto Carmen's plate and dropping one on the floor.
"Yesterday," Rodger answered, still grinning.
"Well, why on earth didn't you tell me?" Josephine demanded, jabbing at a stuck pancake in her skillet.
Rodger shrugged. "I figured she would want to let you know herself," he told her, which was partly true. Rodger still believed that Carmen would speak at her own pace and he didn't want people making a big fuss of it to rush her. However, he was still mulling over the significance of Carmen's first word, as well as what she had said to him, in tears, last night. I'll tell Aunt Jo eventually, he thought to himself as he sipped orange juice. But not now. Rodger had a feeling that the words she had spoken were intended to be just between the two of them.
"Well, what was her first word?" Josephine asked, putting pancakes on Rodger's plate. "Don't flood your breakfast," she added when he poured a generous amount of syrup on them.
"Some Donnekahshaie word," Rodger said. "Nadkara, something like that..."
"Nadisikara," said Carmen, between mouthfuls.
"Listen to that!" Josephine exclaimed. "I can't even pronounce that word. What does it mean?"
"Uh..." Rodger said uncomfortably, his mind racing.
"Flowers," said Carmen.
He stared at her.
Josephine didn't notice. "What kind of flowers?"
"Just flowers," Carmen told her.
"Well, I'll be darned. Seems kind of silly, though, such a big unpronounceable word for 'flowers'. Not that you don't say it beautifully, dear," Josephine added hastily. Carmen smiled.
Rodger searched Josephine's face for any kind of suspicion, but found none. He began to wonder if his own concerns were unfounded. Did Carmen really think nadisikara meant 'flowers'? Why would flowers make her cry? Was an eight-year-old girl--even one like Carmen--able to hide her true feelings and deceive Aunt Jo so cleverly? Why would she do that? What did nadisikara really mean to her?
Rodger watched while Aunt Jo beamed as she asked Carmen simple questions. Sometimes Carmen gave her one-word answers, sometimes she just nodded or shook her head as she always had. He took another sip of orange juice. There were many questions he wanted to ask the small girl. But how many should go unanswered?
*****
"Donnekahshaie, Acme Detective Agency. This is Shirley, how can I help you?" Shirley paused a moment. "Kellangue? Oh, Hokkien. Just a moment."
Rodger grinned. Shirley still had trouble getting her pronunciation right. "Hi, Shirl," he greeted her.
She looked up from her textbook, her face lighting up. "Hi, Rodger. Hi, Carmen."
"Hi," Carmen said.
Shirley's eyes got big as dinner platters. "She talks!" she exclaimed. "What else can she say?"
"Why don't you ask her?" Rodger asked. "She knows better than I do."
"Oh, of course, I'm sorry," Shirley apologized hastily. "What else can you say?" she asked eagerly, trotting over to Carmen and bending down with a smile.
Carmen pointed to Shirley's hair. "Bleach?" she asked.
Rodger burst out laughing.
Shirley smacked Rodger playfully on the arm. "You jerk, you told her to say that!"
"I didn't!" he exclaimed, still laughing. "Whatever comes out of her mouth is out of her own mind." He winked at Carmen and patted her on the back. "You're clever, aren't you? That was a good one."
"Yeah, I see where she gets it from," Shirley grumbled as she shot Rodger a quick venomous glance.
Carmen looked puzzled.
"I don't think she meant to be insulting," Rodger told Shirley, calming down.
"I dyed it, Carmen," Shirley told her. "I didn't like the old color. It was kind of a mousy brown."
Rodger gave her head a skeptical look. "Not much of an improvement..."
Shirley smacked him again.
"All right, all right," Rodger said, backing away with his hands up. "Shirley, I need to ask you, do you know who in here speaks both Donnekahshaie and English fluently?"
Shirley thought for a moment. "I know Lynn does. I'm not sure about anybody else."
Rodger made an indelicate sound. "Oh, please. Not Lynn."
Shrugging, Shirley said, "I don't know of anybody else."
"What about Basil?"
"Well, he knows Donnekahshaie, but he's not fluent."
"Kim?"
"Her procedural English is really good, but I'm not sure about anything else."
Rodger sighed. "I guess it's Lynn then. Shirl, can you watch Carmen for a few minutes? I have a few things I have to ask her anyway."
"Of course! If I'm not here by the time you come back, I'll probably be at lunch."
"Okay, see you then."
*****
"Nadisikara?" Lynn asked, sitting behind her desk with hands her hands folded. "It can mean a number of things. Most Donnekahshaie words do."
"Like what?" Rodger asked.
"Respect for the dead, respect for one's ancestors, missing someone gone, lifelong grief. A feeling of missing something important, something that has been taken away." She paused. "Why do you ask?"
Rodger thought fast. "Omoro taught me some Donnekahshaie. But he's not real good at English translations, I wasn't sure about this one." He paused, looking for a way to change the subject. "About the Transporter system..."
"Yes?" Lynn perked up, suddenly interested.
"It can be done, but we don't have the technology or the finances for it yet. We would need to develop a satellite system to pinpoint locations around the world."
Lynn's face fell. "Oh." She paused again. "What about the rest of the computer system?"
"Communications is coming along well. R-II is starting to act by himself without special programming, but he can't say words or phrases he hasn't heard before. The mainframe is going to take longer than expected..." Rodger rattled off the stats, tucking into a corner of his mind the translation of Carmen's first word.
*****
"So then I told her, well, why don't you leave the guy? You know, after the whole incident with the shoe polish and the landlady's good china and everything. But she never listened to me! And sure, nothing really bad happened, but still, the girl really wasn't all that bright, and it wouldn't have taken too long for her to..."
"You know, Shirley, it has been scientifically proven that a person can die of boredom." Shirley looked up to see Rodger standing behind them in the cafeteria, grinning, his hands in his pockets. "You wouldn't want poor Carmen's life to end so soon, would you?"
Shirley stood up and put her hands on her hips, nodding toward the alert, bright-eyed girl sitting across from her. "Does she look bored to you? I don't think so, Rodger. Rather, I think that now that she can talk and you just spent an hour with Lynn instead of her, she's probably dying to have someone talk to her."
Rodger winced. "Ouch."
"Well, I think that you should pay more attention to her."
"No. I meant your joke. And I've always spent a lot of time with her. You think that I should have spent less when she didn't talk?"
Shirley ignored that. "Well anyway, I wanted someone to talk to, and Carmen's such a good listener." She turned to the child sitting quietly in one of the chairs and hugged her. "Aren't you, dear?"
Rodger leaned against the doorway, still grinning. "We never can tell what she's really thinking, Shirley." He paused for a moment, the implications of what he'd just said running through his mind, then turned back to Shirley and smiled again. "She may have been suffering in silence the whole time."
Shirley brushed past him and out towards the door in a huff. "Huh. Just because you're not interested in what I have to say...if she doesn't want to listen to me, she could say so...or just leave."
"Oh, come on, Shirl. I was kidding," Rodger told her as he took Carmen's hand and followed her. "You know that Carmen likes you. She would have just up and left if she didn't want to listen to you."
"What boggles my mind," said Shirley in an attempt to get back at Rodger, "is why she's so fond of you. She follows you around everywhere."
"Oh, I'm just irresistable," Rodger quipped, a big grin on his face. But when Shirley sniffed and turned away, he frowned and looked back down at Carmen, wondering if she would ever reveal the answers to the many questions he wanted to know.
------------------------------------------------------
May 20, 1976
University of Oklahoma
Jessica frowned at the summer class schedule. A great deal of classes she needed to take were not available. Isn't that just how it goes? The stuff you need to take is never in the schedule when you need to take it. She was beginning to see, even just now, how easy it was to spend an extra year or so in college. The only problem was, most of Jessica's scholarships and other plans required a four-year term.
Sighing, she tossed the class schedule aside and picked up a job application for a tutorial position on campus. Sophomore-level knowledge in geography, history, and other social sciences was listed under "Requirements". Jessica smiled. Training in Acme's Academy should be more than enough qualifications for such a job. She got up from the table in the University library, and sat herself down in front of one of the ancient typewriters set on tables against the wall. She stuck her application in the typewriter and began tapping away at the keys.
"Hey, Jess," said a voice by her side. She looked up and saw Howie standing next to her, along with his girlfriend of seven months, Janice. Janice had her hair dyed in colors not found in nature, and her usual vacant expression on her face. Jessica found herself missing Shirley. At least Shirley stuck to one color, and was capable of intelligent conversation.
"Hello, Howie," she said pleasantly to him, ignoring Janice's presence.
Howie got straight to the point. "Jess, I need to ask you a favor,"
Jessica sighed. "What now?"
"I need to borrow some money."
"Then why are you asking me? I don't have any money to borrow."
"Jess, I'm desperate. I need it now but I can pay you back when I get my next paycheck." Howie worked in a factory.
Jessica rubbed her temple. "How much do you need?"
"Three hundred dollars."
Jessica jumped. "How much?"
"Jess, please..."
"Howie, I don't have three hundred dollars!"
"You said you had some stashed away."
"That's my college education money! That goes for fall tuition and nothing else!"
"Jess, I really need that money now. But I can pay it back before the University sends out its bills for the fall session."
"What on earth is costing you three hundred dollars?"
"I'm behind on my rent payments."
"I distinctly remember helping you budget your finances at the beginning of the quarter. What happened to all your rent money?"
"Emergencies."
"What about the emergency money?"
"You remember the hail damage on my car from the last storm?"
Jessica rolled her eyes. "That's not an emergency, Howie."
"It is if you own a Firebird."
Jessica chose not to comment on that.
"Look Jess," Howie said, almost pleading with her. "I'm gonna get kicked out of my apartment if I don't pay up. I don't have anywhere else to stay." He paused. "Unless you want me and Janice to move in with you..."
Jessica shuddered. She took out her checkbook, then paused. "Wait a minute. You and Janice are living together?"
Howie shrugged. "I thought you knew."
Jessica blinked, then went back to her checkbook. "Just as long as it doesn't interfere with the project." Tearing off the check, she handed it to Howie and said, "If I don't get that back before the bills arrive for summer session, I'm going to tie you to a post in the Caribbean when the next hurricane rolls through. Do you understand me?"
Howie snatched up the check. "Don't worry, you'll get it back. You have my word."
"That's why I worry," Jessica grumbled.
June 6, 1976
Eastern Nebraska
Jessica set up her camera, wondering as she often did how the field in front of her could be demolished by the passing storm, while she grain mill on which she now stood was untouched. In any case, it was quite convenient for what she needed to do. She stood from her high perch looking down at the strange circular patterns the tornado had embedded in the field. Dr. Ted Fujita, the renowned tornado expert, had once said that storm research was a lot like tracking criminals; each left evidence behind. By examining these patterns, as well as the debris and damage caused by the storm, Jessica could learn a great deal about wind speed and direction, and eventually the very structure of the tornado. It was like fingerprinting. Little clues could answer big questions, as Shirley once said...
Jessica wrenched her mind from her comparisons to detective work and focused on a recent irritation. It was usually Howie's job to take pictures, as he didn't like to partake in the cleanup and Jessica had insisted he do something constructive, but Howie was afraid of heights.
Finally Jessica climbed down from her lofty perch, and turned to see Howie walking toward her. "What's up?" she asked.
"Jess, I'm having a little trouble with that grant we need," he said.
Jessica's expression turned hard. "Grants are your job, Howie."
He held up his hands. "I'm not asking you to do it, Jess. I just need a little help with a paragraph. Writer's block."
"Howie, that's due in two weeks! Why didn't you tell me earlier?"
Howie looked at the ground. "I didn't want to disturb you, Jess. I know you've shouldered a lot of the work and I didn't want you to worry about this too. I have most of it done...some of it just doesn't sound right. I just want to run it by you before I send it in, that's all."
Jessica let the angry words die on her tongue. "Well, why didn't you say so?"
Howie shrugged.
"Ok. We'll do that tonight then."
"Um...Janice and I are going out to dinner tonight."
"Tomorrow morning then."
"I have to work."
Jessica raised one eyebrow. "Tomorrow afternoon?"
"Ok. Great. Thanks Jess. Oh, by the way," he said, digging into his back pocket, "I think I owe you this," he pressed a wad of bills into her hands. "It's not all of what I owe you...think of it as a down payment. I promise I'll have it to you before they send out the fall session bills. See you later, ok?" He said all that in one breathless stream, then hurried off.
Jessica counted the money. Only one hundred dollars.
July 15, 1976
Acme Detective Agency
I am an American tourist,
The worst to ever exist!
When I leave this country,
I will not ever be missed.
I kicked the cows in India,
Tracked mud in a hundred shrines...
"Rodger!" Lynn called. "What on earth is going on in there?"
"Sorry, Chief Lynn." Rodger stepped into the doorway to the Computer Room. "R-II's teaching Agency songs to Carmen and she's taken a liking to one of them."
"Well, keep it down, please. I can all of you all the way down the hall."
"Yes, Chief Lynn. Sorry about that."
Rodger watched until Lynn rounded the corner, then turned and winked at Carmen. Puffing himself up, he said in an irritating nasal authorative voice, "Rodger! When is that Transporter system going to be ready? You stop that goofing off, don't you be wasting the Agency's time!"
Carmen laughed.
Rodger put his nose in the air and paced the floor, mimicking Lynn's mincing steps. "Turn down that volume! I can hear you all the way across the hall!"
R-II picked up on the masquerade. "As Chief of the Agency, it's my duty to make sure we work professionally!" he proclaimed, imitating her voice perfectly. "A casual atmosphere is fine, but we have a reputation to uphold! We must keep the respect of the nations of the world!"
Rodger and Carmen collapsed into laughter. After a few moments Lynn came back in. "What's so funny?" she demanded.
"Oh, nothing," Rodger said, turning crimson.
Lynn gave him a speculative look. "Must be a whole lot of 'nothing' going on, then." She frowned at them for a few minutes longer, then left the room, her heels clacking on the linoleum as she left.
Rodger wiped his forehead. "Whew...that was close. I didn't know laughing was such an offense. Imagine if she found out what we were laughing at..."
He felt Carmen touch his ribs.
"Oh, no you don't!" he exclaimed. "You think it's funny that I'm ticklish, huh? Let's see how you like it..." He made a grab for her.
Carmen screeched with laughter.
A few moments later Shirley appeared in the doorway. "Lynn says can it," she said.
"Oh, of course," Rodger said sarcastically, holding the giggling little girl in his arms. "Whatever you say."
Carmen broke free. "Hi Shirley," she said.
"Hey there," Shirley said to her, immediately brightening. "You want to come to the cafeteria to have lunch with me? You can bring that kid you always hang around with, if you must," she added, giving Rodger an mocking look.
"Har har," he said, getting up and dusting himself off.
The trio walked down the halls, Carmen between Rodger and Shirley. Carmen still held Rodger's hand whenever he took her anywhere, though when he was busy with the computer she was equally willing to spend time with Shirley or Omoro.
"How was your walk with Omoro yesterday?" Rodger asked her.
"Okay."
"Did he teach you any new words?"
"Yes."
"Well, what were they?"
"Timyo."
"What does it mean?"
"Fog."
Shirley looked at her. "Didn't I hear her going through a couple of verses of 'American Tourist' earlier?"
Rodger shrugged. "Yeah. She doesn't say much unless it's just me or R-II around. She seems to have taken a liking to R-II." He paused, his brows furrowed. "I suppose that's good, because R-II seems to like her, he's still convinced that he had something to do with the adoption."
They each went to different cooks to order their meals. Shirley liked bland foods, while Rodger was a fan of anything spicy. Carmen liked a little of everything.
Rodger glanced over at Carmen's plate as soon as they sat down. "Don't you want some salt for your eggs?"
"Not healthy," she insisted.
"You listen to Priya too much. A little salt won't kill you." Rodger shook a liberal amount of both salt and pepper on his eggs, then reached for the ketchup. "You should try some of this, too," he said.
Carmen made a face. So did Shirley.
"Here, try a little," Rodger said, putting a little dollop on her eggs.
Carmen said nothing, but seized another bottle. "Tobasco," she said, reaching over to Rodger's plate.
"No thank you, not on...Carmen!" The hot reddish stuff splattered onto his plate. Rodger made a horrendous face and gingerly seperated the tabasco-coated egg from the rest of his meal. "Ick. Thanks, Carmen, I can't eat that now. It's contaminated."
Shirley was covering her mouth and trying not to choke. As soon as she swallowed, she reached over and snatched a small brownish bottle. "Here, I think you need some soy sauce on your eggs."
"Aaaahhhh!" Rodger exclaimed as the salty stuff ran down his plate. He grabbed a white packet. "I think you need some sugar on your bacon..."
"Hey!" she yelled. She picked up her cup and emptied its contents on Rodger's food. "I think you need some coffee on your eggs..."
Rodger took the tabasco from Carmen. "I think you need some tabasco on your pancakes..."
"I think you need some mustard on your plate..."
*****
About half an hour later they were at the Bayside Cafe, seated with Omoro, Priya, Basil and Veraja. Of late the Cafe had become something of a hangout for the Agency regulars, and Rodger and Shirley had decided to go there to eat again, minus the tabasco and soy sauce.
Rodger held up a letter he had taken from his box on the way out. "It's from Jess," he announced, waving it in the air.
Shirley looked up from her food. "How's she doing?"
Rodger opened the letter, Carmen leaning over his shoulder. "Not well," he said, after reading a few lines. "Her friend Howie is causing some problems for her."
"You mean the storm track project?" Priya asked.
Rodger nodded, scrutinizing the letter. "Looks like he's making Jess do all the work."
"She should take over then, eh?" Basil asked. "Jess knows her stuff. Very smart, very much in control."
"She can't," Rodger explained. "She's only a freshman and doesn't have much administrative say in the project. She and the other trackers have to answer to Howie. He's the grad student after all. He has the education needed to be in charge...theoretically."
"Why does she not come back!" Veraja lamented. "Always good to have her working here. She should leave her storm project. Why chase a storm? Can't catch one!"
They all laughed over that one. Omoro grew sober. "Not just project," he explained. "For Jess, Oklahoma is home. Where she belongs, where must always return. The earth beneath the fields, it is in her blood."
The little group at the table grew silent, mulling over his words. Finally Rodger spoke up, quietly and slowly. "I admit she didn't really seem happy here. But I wish she'd come back."
The others nodded, knowing he spoke for all of them. Carmen did too, for she could see in Rodger's eyes how much the loss of his friend meant to him.
August 20, 1976
University of Oklahoma
"Where have you been?" Jessica demanded, hands on hips, eyes blazing, her voice deep and forceful. "I haven't been able to get ahold of you for over a week. Where on earth have you been?"
Howie put up his hands. "I've been busy, Jess. I..."
Jessica's temper mounted. "You haven't answered your calls, you were absent on Tuesday's chase, and the Meteorology professor gives me odd looks whenever I ask where you've been. You had better have a very good reason for taking off like this!"
"Listen, Jess, I know you're angry, but..."
"And where's the rest of that three hundred dollars I lent you? I need the rest of it before next week!"
"Jess...I can't pay you back."
Jessica stood speechless for a moment. "What?"
"Listen, I needed to make a down payment on something very important."
His voice was quiet and very serious, but Jessica didn't notice the change. "Damn you, Howard!" she shouted. "That was my college education money!"
He took a small velvet box out of his pocket. "I had to get this for Janice."
"Well, what the hell is it?"
He opened the box with a flourish. Inside was an engagement ring. "I'm going to ask Janice to marry me." He smiled, expecting Jessica to do the same.
Jessica felt her blood boil. How could he betray me like this? Take my hard-earned money, my chance for a future, to feed someone else's joy?
"You idiot!" she cried instead. "How are you going to be able to support a marriage?"
Howie's smile dropped, just as if the strings holding it up had been cut. His eyes pleaded with her, asking why a friend would turn so angry upon hearing such a happy announcement. "Jess, Janice and I love each other. And that's all that matters."
"Did you have to use my college education money to prove that? Howard, how the hell am I supposed to finish school?"
"Please don't be angry, Jess, I promise I'll pay you back somehow. Please..."
"Howard, I don't have enough money to pay for this fall's courses!"
Howie made an attempt at a friendly suggestion. "You could get a job..." he began tentatively.
"You want me to get a job to pay off your engagement ring?" Jessica was screaming by this time, and several students far off in the parking lot turned to look at them.
Howie just stared at her for a few moments, a hurt expression in his eyes. "I'm sorry about the money, Jess, I...I'll find some way to make it up to you. I thought you'd be happy for us."
"I would be, if you knew how to manage your life!"
Howie drew himself up proudly. "I do. That's why I'm postponing the project for a few years, until we get settled."
Jessica's eyes grew wide as she stared at him, shocked speechless."You're going to WHAT?" she finally demanded.
"Well, wouldn't that be a good idea? Then I can devote more time to my studies, my work, and...my wife."
"Howard, don't you care about the project anymore? What happened? It was the biggest part of our lives! Everything we've done for two years has been based on it..." Jessica's voice started to tremble, already sensing that a large chunk of her life was about to be taken away, while she stood helplessly by. "What about the others? We can't just quit, we've come too far..."
"I've made arrangements. I can pick up the project later, when I'm ready."
Jessica gripped her hair with both hands. "Howard, that is not just your project!" she bellowed to the skies above. "It's my project too! You can't just skip out on me like this! Think of what you're doing to the project! Think of what you're going to do to the Okie team!"
"Jess, I've given this a lot of thought, and this is the decision I've reached."
Jessica let go of all diplomacy. "You've never made an intelligent decision in your life!"
He ignored that. "Sometimes we have to make sacrifices..."
"Sacrifices?" Jessica demanded, rounding on him. "Sacrifices? I'll give you sacrifices! I've given everything I've had to this project! I've done ten times more than my share of the work! I've always had to clean up after you! My other studies have suffered! And I left..." Jessica began to cry tears of rage, rage and something else. "I left friends back in San Francisco, friends and a good job! A future! For this? A failed project, no hope of finishing my education...and you, you call yourself a friend, you ungrateful lazy bum! Don't you talk to me about sacrifices!"
"Listen, Jess, I know you're upset..."
"Upset? You selfish little..." She unleashed a string of obscenities at him. "I'll make sure you never finish this project! I'm going to take it from you!"
He flinched from the threat, then snorted. Is she jealous? Because I've found something better and she's still floundering? Jessica is the one who can never make up her mind, not me. When she had been gone she'd said she wanted to be here, when she was here she kept saying she missed San Francisco. Why was she raising such a fuss over a silly obession? Why didn't she see that there was more to life? My life is going somewhere and hers never will...she'd only succeed if she stole the project...
"You can't take it from me," Howard stated firmly. "You don't have the education. You'll never get the degree you need in time."
Jessica stared daggers at him, piercing him with her gaze. He shifted uncomfortably, but stood his ground. Her eyes narrowed to thin slits, like a cat's before it strikes. Her gaze turned specualtive, challenging, and he knew she was turning something over in her mind.
"Whatever you're going to do, it won't work," Howard told her.
"I know exactly what I need to do!" Her sudden confidence took Howard off guard. "I can take back what I've lost, earn money for my education and take over the project all at the same time!"
He eyed her suspiciously. "What are you..."
"You've got till the end of the summer to enjoy your position as head of the project. Before you can get your act together, I'll have taken it from you."
"I'll always have more education and experience than you!" he declared. "No lawyer will be able to give the project to you. You won't be able to pay for one anyway!"
"Maybe so. But I'm sure the Agency will be willing to pull a few strings. Especially when they find out where all the funds have been going."
Howie's eyes got big. "The Agency?"
Jessica gave him a cold smile. "I'm sorry you had to end our partnership this way, Howie. I hope you and Janice find a way to support yourselves. You won't be getting it from academia." She then got into her truck and waved with a flourish. "So long, Howard! I'm going back to San Francisco!"
September 1, 1976
Acme Detective Agency
“And just where do you think you’re going?”
“Out,” Carmen replied, pointing to the hallway.
Rodger took her hand. “Now, you remember what happened when you wandered into Kruchov’s office, don’t you?”
“Kruchov didn’t mind.”
“No,” Rodger admitted, pulling her back into the Computer Room. “But Lynn did. And I don’t really care to have her read me the riot act again. You’re not to be wandering around the Agency, do you understand?” As much as Rodger hated to restrain her, he had to admit that Epidemical Crimes was no place for a small child. Carmen’s ability to get on Kruchov’s good side--if he has one, Rodger thought to himself--was uncanny.
Carmen frowned. She never pouted, but Rodger could tell she wasn’t happy. “Yes,” she finally replied.
“I won’t take long.” Rodger turned back to the computer. After a few minutes, he turned back, and sighed. Carmen was gone.
Rodger gave R-II a dirty look. “Well?”
“Well what?” R-II asked innocently.
Rodger sighed. If he didn’t know better, he’d suspect that R-II enjoyed letting Carmen get away with things...
*****
Carmen decided to go out to the courtyard. The sun was still warm on the stones, even though the days were starting to shorten and the smell of autumn was in the air. A few people were seated on the benches, either going over case files or just enjoying the weather. Carmen watched them silently, a small still figure on the intricate geometric design of the stones. A slight breeze wafted through the air, and weaved back down into the city. Carmen watched a few leaves drift by and started to follow them, over the courtyard and out between the granite pilliars, drawn by the sounds of the city below.
“Where might you be off to?” a voice asked. Carmen shifted her gaze from the city and turned to the owner of the voice; a young woman seated on a bench just outside the courtyard, in front of one of the pillars. She had her legs crossed, one arm on the back of the bench. Her blue jeans were splattered with mud and she wore a college-style jacket. Her black hair was tied back.
Carmen stopped and just looked at her for a few moments. The woman had an aura about her similar to Omoro’s. She also had a strong air of confidence, even arrogance, that stood out even in the way she sat on the bench. Carmen looked into the woman’s eyes, and was surprised at what she saw there. Here was someone else who could see clearly. Carmen felt herself drawn to her.
“The big city of San Francisco ain’t no place for a little girl to be wandering around by herself. Are you lost?” the woman asked in an Okie accent, her voice a mixture of curiosity and concern, a bit of her arrogance softening. “Where are your folks?”
“Inside,” Carmen replied simply, pointing to the Agency.
The woman nodded. “I know a few people who work there.”
****
Jessica watched the girl with rising interest. At first she’d suspected the girl to be lost, wandering around the Agency by herself; but at second glance this girl seemed to be perfectly comfortable with her surroundings, as if she belonged there even more than Jessica did.
Which was quite possible, given that Jessica was still unsure that she wanted to go back. She’d packed practically the second she’d arrived back at her dorm after her showdown with Howie; and after an agonizing several days where she cleared up things at the University and found a place to stay in San Francisco, she was finally at the Agency’s doorstep. The problem was, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to go in.
On the flight back, Jessica kept telling herself that she hadn’t snubbed her friends at the Agency. Yet that was hardly the way she felt. What would Rodger, Shirley, Veraja and all the others think when they saw her walk back in, the castoff of a project that was doomed to failure? Admitting to herself that she’d made a stupid mistake was bad enough, and explaining that she had only come to the Agency long enough to fix it was worse. They’d ridicule her for leaving, then even more for wanting to go back to Okie.
Jessica didn’t want to admit that she was afraid to go back in, not even to herself. But she had the strange sense that this small girl already knew. Jessica checked herself, looking at the arrogant way she had set herself on the bench, her eyes and her body clearly saying “go away”. Yet the girl seemed to sense this was an act. Jessica got an odd feeling, half cordial and half wary, as this small child walked boldly up to her--a stranger--and sat down next to her.
****
The strange woman held Carmen’s interest. She was hiding something, a shy kind of fear that Carmen had experienced herself when she had been introduced to the Agency for the first time. Carmen was also drawn to the ease with which the woman fit into her surroundings. Here was a wanderer, much like herself, someone with the same restless spirit. Carmen decided she wanted to get to know her better. Something told her that the woman was not a stranger to the Agency.
So Carmen approached her in the same way she had approached Rodger, a shy soul cloaked in boldness. If this woman was like Rodger she would see both layers at the same time. They would know each other already.
The woman jumped slightly, taken aback by her climbing onto the bench and sitting next to her.
****
“My, you have an ease with strangers, don’t you?” Jessica asked, a bit startled. The girl just looked up at her, searching her face, looking into her eyes. Jessica had never seen such boldness in a small girl before. There was also something else, a friendly kind of awareness that told Jessica that the girl had experienced some of the same uncertainy before.
“I used to work here,” Jessica said, jerking her head toward the Agency. The girl nodded.
“And I was wondering,” Jessica said, more mulling over things to herself but glad to have someone listening to her, “if I should go back.”
The girl just watched her with large blue eyes.
“I was kind of a pompous jerk when I left,” Jessica admitted, surprised at the words coming out of her mouth. “But I wanted to do something with my own two hands...I wanted to make sure things got done. I mean...I like the Agency and all...but I wasn’t sure it was what I wanted.” Jessica paused and looked at the girl, who seemed to take in every word.
“Was that really so wrong?” Jessica went on, turning back to the city, the breeze playing at small wisps of her hair. “Shouldn’t I look in other places first, before I choose a job for life? How else do I know what else I’m capable of?” She shifted uncomfortably on the bench, her face turning grave. “Then I think, why leave friends you love, a job you love, for something that seems completely outrageous?”
Jessica shook her head. “I never was the sensible type. Always chasing dreams like I did the criminals here or the storms back in Okie.” She looked at the girl, confusion and anxiety written on her face. “The big question is, what do I do now?”
****
Shirley trotted anxiously down the halls, calling Carmen’s name every few steps. She poked her head into doorways and called, and stopped every person she met down the hall to inquire if they’d seen a small girl walk by. None had. Nearly frantic, Shirley started talking to herself. “Oh no, oh no, where could she be, she knows not to be wandering around by herself, where has she gone...”
Shirley blew into the entryway, looking wildly around, her gold earrings jingling. After a few seconds she found what she was looking for. “Carmen! Don’t ever run off like that again! Rodger’s worried sick, you know not to...”
Shirley stopped in mid-tirade, staring at the woman whom Carmen had just led in the door, who had been muttering “I’m not sure this is a good idea” to herself as she walked in. Shirley’s mouth dropped open, and she stood frozen for a second, then suddenly she whirled round and yelled in a voice that shook the roof, “Rodger! You’re never gonna believe who Carmen just dragged in!”
****
“Yeah, yeah, glad to see you too...ouch, don’t hug me so hard! Shirley, you’ll break my ribs...”
“Oh Jess!” Shirley exclaimed. “We missed you!”
Jessica drew deep breaths. “I gathered that...”
They heard footsteps, and both turned to see Rodger running pell-mell down the hall. As soon as he saw Jessica, he started going even faster.
“Jess!” he cried, laughing, not even bothering to slow down as he swept her into his arms and gave her a hug.
“Augh!” Jessica yelled, painfully concious of the stares from the other Agency members. “Rodger, put me down!”
He nearly dropped her, and gave her an indignant look. “Is that any way to greet an old friend?”
Jessica offered her hand. He grabbed it and pulled her toward him, then planted a kiss on her cheek. Jessica yelled, shoved him, and rubbed vigorously at the side of her face. “Rodger, do you want me to wring your scrawny little neck?”
Rodger didn’t seem to hear. He pounded her on the back, exclaiming, “Look who’s back! Couldn’t stay away from us, could you, Jess? We all know how you really feel...”
“Augh! Rodger, knock it off!”
Rodger stepped back and flicked his hand in front of her face. “Does this bug you? Does this bug you? I’m not touching you...”
Jessica yelled and pounced on him. “Little psycho!...c’mere, you...” Her voice sounded rough and angry, yet inside she was laughing. She never thought she’d be so happy to be home. And somehow, as she and Rodger, Shirley, and even Carmen tussled together in the middle of the Agency entryway, she could sense that they knew she was too.
September 3, 1976
Acme Detective Agency
"Ah yi, ahmidai, yah mi sihdah..."
Omoro sang to himself softly, trying to conceal the happiness he felt upon hearing that Iwakili had returned. He had gone looking for her; but she was hiding, doubtless because of the failure of the new life she had tried to build. Omoro had wanted to find her, to tell her that half her strength and spirit would be enough to acheive her aims, that she was one of the few that was capable of anything, but she was nowhere around. He walked leisurely to Veraja's office, intending to ask her to let him know if Jessica reapplied to work for the Agency.
He walked into Ethnic Relations and found Veraja cooing her praises of Iwakili as well--to Carmen, who was becoming notorious for roaming the Agency and popping up in strange places. Omoro nodded to Carmen in greeting, then turned to speak to Veraja, who began talking even before he opened his mouth.
"Such good news! Iwakili returns! Every day I hope that Jess would come back!" she exclaimed happily.
Omoro nodded. "I hoped she would. I am waiting to hear from her. Can you tell me, when she is in?"
Veraja nodded vigorously. "Of course, of course I tell you! Before ink on the paperwork is dry!"
Omoro nodded his thanks. Taking Carmen's hand, he said, "Time for a walk, yes?" She clasped his hand and walked with him out the door, a thoughtful expression on her face.
Once in the city, Omoro pointed to a pigeon. "Bila," he told her, expecting her to repeat the word.
She watched it strut around on the grass for a while, but said nothing. "Bila," Omoro said again, tugging her hand slightly to get her attention.
Suddenly she looked up at him. "Omoro, who is Iwakili?"
Omoro blinked, taken aback, but answered, "Jessica is Iwakili."
"Why do you call her that?"
"Iwakili, that her Donnekahshaie name."
"What's Donnekahshaie name?"
Surprised, Omoro smiled at the girl, who was suddenly full of questions. "Donnekahshaie name...hmmm...another name for person."
"Why another one?"
Omoro's eyes sparkled with amusement at her inquinsitiveness, but then sombered as he turned the explanation over in his mind. "Eh...like personality name. Their spirit is in the name..." He continued to struggle as she watched him, uncomprehending. "You know this person well, you give a name that says themself...ahh, shemma zhi taima," (Words cannot come out) he finally said, unable to explain.
She looked so disappointed that he tried one more time. "Some of it is you raison d'etre," he said, then realized she probably didn't know this expression.
"Reason to be," she translated absently.
Omoro did a double-take and stared at her. "Tu parles francais!" he exclaimed, loud enough for two passerby to turn and stare.
"Oui, je parles francais, courantment. Tout ma vie."
"All your life!" Omoro exclaimed in French. "Why didn't you say so earlier?"
She shrugged. "You didn't ask." Looking around and then up at him, she leaned over and whispered in a conspiratorial voice, "You won't tell anyone, all right?"
Puzzled, Omoro looked into her eyes, and was even more baffled by what he saw there. Fear? Why would people knowing that she spoke French make her afraid? How did she come to speak it in the first place?
"Of course," he told her finally. "Our secret."
She smiled and nodded, content, then immediately asked, "So what is a Donnekahshaie name?"
Omoro laughed, then apologised for doing so. "A Donnekahshaie name," he began to explain in his North African French, "defines who you are. It is a statement about your personality, your life, your spirit, your being, all summed up into one or two words.
"Jessica's Donnekahshaie name is Iwakili, stormtracker. This has both a literal and a figurative meaning. She studied storms in Oklahoma, that is the obvious literal meaning. It had a lot to do with her life, where she was going, what she wanted to do with it. You could see it on the jacket she always wore, Okie City Stormtrackers. Even someone who did not know her very well could guess what the name referred to.
"The figurative meaning, that is more secret, often only known in full to the people who are closest to the agent. The figurative meaning to Jessica's name is that she chases dreams and goals, like she does storms, always looking for a challenge and pushing herself to the limits. She would walk into a dragon's mouth if it meant finding what she was looking for. She goes after the impossible, and yet will always somehow manage to get it. Sometimes it takes all her energy, and sometimes she channels it in the wrong way, but in the end she'll always find what she's looking for."
Omoro paused for a few moments, then went on. "Because this name, this Donnekahshaie name is so close to a person, their raw self and their spirit, an agent will only reveal the meaning of his or her name to an outsider if that person is very close to them."
Carmen was silent for a few moments. Then she asked, "How did Jessica get this Donnekahshaie name?"
"A close friend gives a person their Donnekahshaie name," Omoro told her. "Usually the person that knows them the best."
"Who gave Jess that name?"
Omoro smiled. "Guess."
"Rodger?"
"No, but good guess."
"Not Lynn or Shirley."
"No."
Carmen looked up at him. "You?"
Omoro nodded, smiling.
September 4, 1976
Acme Detective Agency
"What'd she say?"
Jessica turned her gaze from Rodger's anxious stare, shrugging. "She says she'd be happy to have me back." What an understatement, Jessica thought. Veraja had practically fallen over herself getting the papers ready for Jessica's return, and had even given Jessica one of her trademark vicelike hugs.
"That's great!" Rodger exclaimed, and was about to hug her as well but she shot him a warning glance. He extended his hand in congratulations instead, then patted her on the back.
She walked back to the cafeteria with him, slightly uncomfortable. She was still wondering what to make of all the fuss concerning her return. Jessica felt almost as if she had been awarded an honor she did not deserve. As for Rodger and Shirley, well, that was kind of embarassing. She still wondered what caused them to rejoyce so much at her return. She was happy to see them too, but not ecstatic, and she felt a little guilty to give them so little in return.
Shirley leaped up from the table as soon as they walked in the door. "What'd she say, what'd she say?" she demanded, voice high and eyes alight.
"No beans," said Rodger with a completely straight face.
Shirley's ecstatic expression shattered. "Ohhh, no!" she exclaimed.
Jessica kicked Rodger, who started laughing. "I'm kidding, Shirl. Jess is in."
Shirley shoved him. "You...why do you do these things! You had me worried!"
Carmen laughed.
"Carmen thought it was funny," Rodger said.
"Carmen thinks us beating you up is funny," Shirley told him.
Jessica left to get herself something to eat. Shirley leaned over to Rodger and asked, "What's with her? She doesn't seem too happy about it."
Rodger shrugged. "Her project that she worked on back in Oklahoma fell through, Shirl. You know that."
"Isn't she happy to see us?"
"Sure, but...oh, I don't know. Jess is...she seems to be one that likes to be out on her own. She likes being with us, a lot I'm sure, but I think she wanted the chance to do something herself from the ground up and that creep Howie ruined it for her."
Shirley chewed thoughtfully. "Isn't she going to do anything about it? Jess doesn't seem the type to just give up on something."
"Well, she wants to take the project from him, but..."
"Really? She'll head it herself?"
"She wants to, but..."
"That is so cool!"
"Shirl, keep it down. She doesn't want to announce this to the whole world."
Shirley nodded vigorously. "Sure. Right. Sure."
Jessica sat down next to them, Chinese food on her tray.
"Are you going to take the project back?" Shirley immediately asked in a too-loud whisper.
Jessica glared at Rodger.
"What?" he demanded.
"I'm going to try," Jessica said slowly. "That's why I'm not working here full-time."
Rodger and Shirley tried unsuccessfully to conceal their disappointment. "Ohhhhh," they both said in unison.
"I'm going to take summer school. I'll be here all the rest of the time," she said in a slightly strained voice. "I don't have the cash to go to school full time."
"Of course, yes," Rodger stuttered.
"Yes, right, sorry," Shirley mumbled.
They ate in silence for a while, then Jessica spoke up. "When was the last Kilamiraine?"
Rodger and Shirley looked at each other. "I dunno, Jess," Rodger said. "A couple weeks ago, maybe."
"Well, didn't you go?" Jessica demanded.
"No."
Jessica stared at him incredulously. "You didn't go to the Kilamiraine? Why on earth not? How could you miss a Kilamiriaine?"
Shirley looked at her plate, and Rodger shifted uncomfortably.
"Well...it just didn't seem the same somehow," Rodger said slowly. "Like it was missing something without you."
Shirley nodded in agreement.
Jessica exhaled slowly, looking at them with a level gaze, as if not quite sure what to make of this. She blinked and nodded toward Carmen. "What about Carmen here? Has she ever been to one?"
Rodger shrugged. "Not unless Omoro took her."
Jessica turned to Carmen. "Do you know Kilamiraine? Do you know what we're talking about? It's like a dance, sort of. Have you ever been to anything like that?"
Carmen shook her head.
Jessica shot Roger an accusing glance. "You've never taken her to a Kilamiraine," she said flatly.
Rodger spread his hands. "I'm sorry, Jess, I didn't think it was that big of a deal..."
"Not that big of a deal?" Jessica demanded, as if she didn't believe her ears. "Rodger, you can't be fully part of the Agency until you go to a Kilamiraine."
"She's not part of the Agency. She just comes in with me."
Jessica shot Rodger a look of profound disapproval. "Not part of the Agency? Rodger, have you ever gotten your butt out of the Computer Room long enough to take a look round? The whole Agency knows Carmen. You've got Omoro teaching her Donnekahshaie and Kruchov actually smiling whenever she walks in the room. She's more a part of the Agency than you are! I can't believe she hasn't been to a Kilamiraine!"
"All right, Jess, all right," Rodger said, raising his hands. "I'll take her to the next one."
"It'll be fun again, now that you're back, anyway," Shirley offered, nodding at Jessica.
Jessica was still a little vexed. "I can't believe that just because I wasn't here you didn't take her to a Kilamiraine."
Rodger frowned. Suddenly, he grinned and reached over to Jessica, tugging on her ponytail. "We missed ya, Jess."
"Hey!" She slapped his hands away. "All right, all right, I already know that. And don't think that I don't appreciate it. But..."
"Next time, Jess," Rodger promised. "We'll all go together."
September 20, 1976
San Francisco
This time Jessica was leading Carmen by the hand. Carmen was intrigued by this new word, Kilamiraine. No one could seem to explain it. She had asked both Omoro and Jessica, and after thinking and trying several failed explanations, they both asked her to wait and see for herself. As far as Carmen could gather, it had something to do with dancing, and being together with people you knew. Only there was more to it. And there had to be some great importance attached to it, for Jessica was holding her hand tightly and moving quickly with excitement.
Also, Carmen knew, one apparently could not fully be a member of the Agency until they had gone to at least one of these Kilamiraines. This was what interested her the most. Although now that she talked she felt more at home with the Seniors--and they felt more at home with her--she still felt that there was a distance between them. Sometimes she still felt like an outsider, and she still felt a yearning to be accepted. It no longer gnawed at her like it had a month ago, but the feeling was still there.
Whatever a Kilamiraine was, it was going to take place in the park. Some of the smaller ones were held in the courtyard of the Agency, but a large one had not been held for several months. A large square of the park had been roped off, and a banner in the now-familiar Donnekahshaie announced the event.
Jessica walked up to Omoro, who was standing inside the square, near one of the corners. He gave her only a slight nod and a small smile, but both of them could see his eyes sparkling.
"Donnekahshaie," he greeted Jessica, bowing and extending his hand. Jessica returned the greeting.
"Ki taiya?"--How are you doing--he asked.
"Rhea,"--I'm fine--she replied.
Omoro nodded and started speaking rapidly in Donnekahshaie.
Jessica held up her hands. "I've...forgotten a lot of that," she said slowly, avoiding his eyes.
Omoro's face fell, then brightened again. "It is good to see you," he told her, clasping her hand warmly. "We all miss you."
Jessica shifted uncomfortably. "I missed the Agency too. And all you guys."
Omoro clapped a hand on her shoulder. "You have good timing, yes? Many big cases, many people ask for a Kilamiraine."
Jessica nodded. "Maybe it'll help me feel better about some of my own problems as well," she offered halfheartedly.
Omoro nodded, and turned to Carmen, who was looking at them with a puzzled expression. "You will see when we start, a Kilmiraine gives you energy, gives you heart, to go forward, take hold what you desire. You let go old grudges, old sorrows, maybe if just for a short time."
Carmen reflected on that. Omoro frowned, seeing the puzzlement in her face, and for a moment he considered explaining it to her in French. But he didn't; he had promised. She'll see for herself soon enough, and her own eyes will be a better teacher than both me and Jessica combined.
Carmen watched as more people gathered, not just Seniors, but also San Franciscans familiar with the event; and tourists as well, drawn to see what all the fuss was about. Carmen saw Rodger and Shirley arrive along with Josephine.
Josephine was tittering excitedly. "And you know, I never get tired of these things. I can't believe you didn't tell me the Agency was doing more of them! It's just so amazing..."
Rodger nodded absently. "Uh huh." He lit up when he saw Jessica.
"You ready?" she asked excitedly, a smile on her face.
"Ready whenever you are," Rodger told her. He gave her an amused look. "You're certainly eager," he noted.
Jessica nodded, flashing a rare grin. "I've missed this."
The musicians, who had been tinkering with their instruments for the past several minutes, suddenly swept together in a rolling melody. Many of the Seniors picked up the tune and started singing, clapping their hands to the rhythm. As more instruments joined in the tune and drummed the beat, the Seniors began moving their bodies to the rhythm, still singing.
Lai lai, mai lahdiarah,
Yi so ma kiyahma,
Mirson maia si dhamochikai,
Ehra onya dhanna!
Kufalai, kufalai,
Ihrma gi so miya!
"What are they saying?" Carmen demanded of Omoro, tugging on his sleeve. He was singing forcefully, swaying his whole body to the beat.
Snapping out of his trance, he leaned down and answered her in French, "It doesn't translate well. Kufilai is 'beware', and you know dhamochikai. It is a song of all the dangers, all the things that can befall a detective if he's not careful...death, exile, false love, despair."
Carmen watched the dancers, puzzled. The tune was quick and lively, the voices of the Seniors eager and cheerful. They sang it with exhilarated expressions on their faces, moving their whole bodies. Why would anyone sing so freely about despair?
Seeing her confusion, Omoro leaned down toward her. "Many Agency songs are like this. They have a happy sound, but a darker meaning. This is because nothing is ever truly good, or truly bad. We ourselves laugh and sing even though we know that our cases and all the sorrows that go with them are waiting for us later. One might ask, What is the use of singing when we see so many terrible things? And we say, What is the use of not singing? Do you see? It balances us. Happiness can be grown with tears of sorrow. We cried for the dead, the missing, the violated; now we sing for the reborn, for new hope, for the sunrise. We do this to survive."
Carmen watched, entranced, as the music picked up speed, the dancers quickening their pace. They laughed and clapped their hands, picked up their feet and linked arms with a partner. Some danced two-by-two, some in groups, some alone. Each had their own unique style, yet somehow was also in step with all the others. The musicians switched instruments as easily as they switched chords, integrating African, Middle Eastern, and Japanese sounds into the all-enveloping rhythm. High mixed with low, bold with subtle, West with East, separate and yet together in a dizzying flow of chords.
The drummers started pounding their instruments harder. Carmen could feel the beat in her blood. It swept through her breath, took over her mind. Her limbs started to move of their own accord, struggling to find the same kindred rhythm that the Seniors shared.
Rodger saw her, on the fringe of the dancers, on the outside looking in. He stepped lightly toward her and took her hand, gently pulling her into the heart of that pulsing mass of singing and dancing. All around her she could feel and hear the others. Just barely on the edge of her awareness was a sense of who they were, the person inside, from the way they danced and sang, the way they flicked their hands and tapped their feet, the sound of their voices. She felt a yearning to break the barrier, to see the Seniors as they really were.
But there was no barrier between her and Rodger. He was completely open to her, even more than usual. His eyes sparkled with excitement and eagerness. From him she sensed joy, relief, a desire to show her all the complexities of the Agency. Her movements were clumsy compared to the others, yet they somehow mirrored his. He led her by the hand all over the dance floor, an escort, a friend, an equal.
They met up with Jessica, who was dancing wildly, lost in the beat. As her gaze fell on the duo, Carmen saw a flash of euphoria, belonging, relief in her eyes. Rodger flicked his hand and Carmen spun toward Jessica, who took her hand. Carmen felt Jessica squeeze her hand, and saw her laugh. Jessica spun Carmen to Shirley, who swept the small girl into her arms and then back into Rodger's. Breathless and dizzy, Carmen finally stumbled back onto the edge of the dance square.
She sat there on the edge, entranced, watching the dancers all throughout the next three hours of the Kilamiraine. The complexity, the uniqueness, and the vivacity of the dance held an unequaled grace. When it finally ended, and Rodger took her by the hand to lead her home, Carmen felt reluctant to let the strange hypnosis slip away, like a waking dream. Looking up at the stars above her, she wondered what it would be like to dance the Kilamiraine as one of them, as a Senior.
December 25, 1976
Josephine's Apartment
"Rodger! Are those cookies ready yet, hon?"
"Not yet, Aunt Jo," came Rodger's voice, strangely muffled.
Suspicious, Josephine left the present she was hurriedly wrapping and marched into the kitchen. "Rodger! You stop eating those cookies. They're for April's party and you know it."
"It was burnt..."
"Wipe the crumbs off your chin, Rodger. Where's Carmen?"
Rodger brushed at his face. "She's still getting dressed." As Josephine left the kitchen he filched another cookie.
Josephine knocked on the bedroom door. "You all finished, hon? We're all about ready to go."
Carmen emerged a little hesitantly. She was dressed in a red satin dress with black shoes. She scratched at the white lace collar.
"Oh, you look darling," Josephine told her. "What d'you think, Rodger?" she called. "I dunno, maybe red's not her color, but it seemed all cheery and Christmassy..."
Rodger swallowed the incriminating evidence in his mouth and looked. Carmen had an expression on her face resembling that of a torture victim.
"You...look nice, Bright Eyes," he told her, trying very hard not to laugh.
She stuck her tongue out at him.
"Now, now, none of that. Y'all are going to April's Christmas party with smiles on your faces." Josephine brought out a huge red satin bow and set to work setting it in Carmen's thick hair. "Hold still now," she said as Carmen squirmed.
Josephine bustled about the apartment, despite her large size. She got the scattered presents into a plastic bag and put a tin with the remaining cookies in it on top. Then she breezed out the door, calling, "C'mon, don't drag your feet, now."
Rodger leaned over to Carmen in Josephine's rattletrap car. "Once we get to the party, we can lose the bow, okay?"
Carmen nodded, a little of the look of defeat leaving her face.
The three of them arrived at a neat little house with blue and white trim. Josephine hauled her load out of the trunk and they marched up to the front door and knocked.
A little redheaded woman answered it. "Josephine, honey, it's been weeks!" The two embraced. "Y'all should visit more often. How's the little one doing?" She bent down to look at Carmen with a grin that nearly split her face.
"Hi," Carmen said, giving her a strained smile.
"Isn't she darling?" April gushed, sweeping the small girl into an embrace. "That dress is just so cute!"
"Isn't it though?" Josephine chimed in.
"Well, what're y'all doing on the doorstep? C'mon in, we can introduce Carmen to the family!" The little woman led them into a foyer, which was connected to the kitchen and a large living room. "Hey, everybody, Josephine and her kids are here!"
Carmen saw a huge mass of strange heads and bodies coming toward her. She hid behind Rodger but he was swallowed up in a sea of older and younger cousins. Suddenly she too was engulfed in a pack of crooning, cheek-pinching, head-patting strangers. She squirmed out of their grasp and attached herself to Rodger.
"She's shy," a cousin a few years older than her teased.
"Well, 'course she is, she don't know anybody!" Josephine started pointing at people. "This here would be your Uncle Jack, and this is your Aunt Ida, and your Uncle James and Aunt Sue, and great-aunt Marie..."
Carmen quickly got all the names and faces mixed up. But she didn't care. She decided then and there that she would not be using them for future reference.
"...and Billy and Tommy and Mark." April finished. You all want something to eat? We got hotpot and cheese and crackers and lots of candy..."
Rodger noticed that Carmen was sticking very close to him. "It's all right, Bright Eyes, I'm not over fond of the relatives either. Here, have some chocolate."
Carmen took it without a word, her eyes vacant. She flinched whenever Rodger's relatives walked up to touch her, and after a while they left her alone. All the older people stood around and talked in the kitchen, while the children and teenagers played and talked in the living room. Rodger sat down on the couch next to one of his cousins and Carmen sat down next to him.
A blonde girl cousin of maybe eleven years sat down next to Carmen. "Hey, there."
Carmen smiled thinly.
"How're you doing?" the girl persisted. "You like your new family?" she asked, gesturing to the people all round them.
Carmen just shrugged, and turned away. This was not her family. This was a room full of strangers. Rodger's family, yes, but this roomful of people was not her family. It was instead a blatant reminder of something she had been trying to forget.
She had no family.
She had Rodger and Josephine, certainly, and she loved them dearly. But these were not her aunts and uncles, not her cousins. They were strangers. They belonged to each other, by blood and by simple association, sharing bonds that she could not have. A cruel reminder of what she had lost. She didn't like being harassed by these people. She didn't like being forced to be part of something she was not. She hid her face in Rodger's shoulder.
"What's with her?" a gruff male voice asked.
"Leave her alone, Jason," the girl cousin snapped.
"Isn't that the orphan kid?" The boy demanded, pointing. "Hey kid! Look at me!"
"Get lost, Jason," Rodger told him.
Carmen felt someone grab her arm and she looked up, startled. A sandy-haired kid's freckled face was staring at her. "Ain't you the orphan kid?"
Carmen was unsure of what else to do, so she nodded.
He stared at her like he would at a bug he'd caught in the woods. "What happened to your parents, hah? They die or somethin', kid?"
Carmen stared at him, horrified.
Rodger shoved him. "Scram."
Jason swatted at his hand. "Or maybe they just couldn't afford ya, huh? Didja live in a foster home?"
"What business is it of yours?" Rodger demanded.
Jason glared at him. "S'matter? I'm just asking..."
"Get lost!"
"Shuddup!" He snarled at Carmen. "What's the matter with you, huh? Did your ma beat you up or something? Is that it? I bet your ma was some backstreet gal and your dad probably beat you up..."
Suddenly Carmen's eyes flashed. Before Rodger could even blink she leapt up off the couch and flew at him, knocking him over. Jason yelped as he was pelted by small fists.
"What's going on?" Josephine demanded as Rodger pried Carmen off Jason.
She was snarling, eyes blazing, still grasping at him. "He said...he said..."
"It's all right, hon," Josephine told her amid the babel of startled voices. "What did you say to her?" she demanded of Jason.
"Didn't say nuthin'...just asked what happened to her parents..."
"That's not true, Aunt Josephine," a little girl said. "He was makin' fun of her."
"Was not!" Jason retorted.
"Why don't you take her out of the room for a while," Josephine suggested to Rodger as the pack of relatives started jabbering, relating and comparing accounts.
Rodger carried Carmen into a small den, where she broke free of him and opened the door to the patio. "Carmen!" he exclaimed when she ran out the door. "Get back in here!"
She didn't listen to him. Rodger ran out the door after her but she kept going. She climbed the chain-link fence and stumbled into the neighbor's yard. The air had a sharp chill that stung the lungs and frost had formed on the rooftops, and Rodger looked back for a moment to consider if he should take his coat. But Carmen was speeding off at an amazing rate and Rodger could see it would be all he could do to keep up.
Rodger called her name sporadically as he chased her, his breath condensing and forming white clouds. The sun was beginning to set and it turned the clouds blood red. Rodger climbed fences and crawled under porches, the exertion keeping him warm. The sky dimmed quickly and Rodger's voice became more urgent. A sharp wind sprang up and chilled his sweating skin.
Finally Carmen stopped in the limbs of a tree. Rodger reached it, gasping for breath, and after a few moments he called, "C'mon back down, Carmen. It's freezing out here."
Carmen didn't budge. She held onto the limb she was lying on, watching the sunset over the Bay as her breath came forth frosty in the chilly December air. Sometimes it seemed that she had always lived here. And maybe, she often reasoned, if she tried very hard, she could somehow forget what she had lost...
Rodger hugged himself and shuffled his feet. "C'mon, Carmen, I'm freezing. Just come back down and we can talk. Aren't you cold?"
"No." She rested her cheek on the limb.
"Please, Carmen, we're both gonna catch hypothermia!"
"I'm not going back."
"What? Carmen, look, Jason's just a bratty little kid. The family's not all like that."
"That's not my family!" she snapped hotly.
Rodger sighed. How am I going to handle this one?
"You consider me and Aunt Jo your family, right?" he asked.
"...yes..."
"Well, those people are related to Aunt Jo and me. And since they're related to us, then they're related to you."
Carmen shook her head.
"What's the matter with them?"
"Nothing."
"So why don't you like them?"
"I just don't! Leave me alone!"
"Carmen, please..." Rodger scrutinized the tree, then took hold of one of the branches. He started climbing, hoping he wouldn't break his neck. Carmen had nimbly set herself in a fork near the top of the tree.
"Jeez this is high up...Carmen, come here," he said, extending his hand. "If I try to go higher I'm gonna fall off."
Carmen didn't budge.
"Please? I promise I won't take you back to the party. Okay?"
Carmen considered, then climbed over into his arms. He sat in a fork of the tree, holding her close, as she buried her head in his chest. Her skin was cold.
"You want to tell me what happened?" he asked her. "With your parents?"
She shook her head.
Rodger sighed. "Ah, Bright Eyes. What am I going to do with you?" He looked out over the city. They were quite a way from home. Closer to the Agency than the apartment. He shivered as the wind sprang up again and he could feel Carmen shivering too. Man, I'm cold...but where's the closest place to get warm?
The Agency? Of course. Not everybody celebrated Christmas in an international detective agency. Acme would be open. And Carmen would go there.
"C'mon, Bright Eyes," he said. "We're going to go warm up at the Agency, ok?"
To his relief she nodded and started climbing down the tree. He picked his way down slowly and the pair started walking toward the Agency building. The wind was cold and darkness was beginning to envelope the city, despite the many displays of twinkling Christmas lights and plastic Santas. Maybe it just seems darker in the cold, Rodger thought to himself.
They reached the Agency courtyard and saw the lobby lights shining brightly, the grand crystal chandelier twinkling from the ceiling. Carmen quickened her pace. She opened the door, then stopped in surprise.
"Hey, Shirl," Rodger said as he entered. "I thought you were staying home for Christmas."
Shirley pouted. "My folks got caught in Colorado. Big storm there. They couldn't come home for Christmas. So I decided to come to work." She stretched. "It's been pretty quiet, and Jess and a few others have planned a little party in a few minutes."
"Yeah? Who's all here?"
"Jess, Basil, Veraja, Kruchov, Omoro, and Priya are all here, along with some others. Lynn'll be there too for a few minutes. There's lots of people working, too, that aren't coming to the party."
"Omoro and Priya? I thought they didn't celebrate Christmas."
"They don't, but their flights got canceled because of snow. Kruchov's too." She grinned. "He's not happy."
"Kruchov's never happy," Rodger grumbled.
Shirley laughed, and looked at her watch. "Nobody's called in an hour. I'm gonna let the answering machine take any calls. If it's an emergency the warning system'll let me know." She hopped off the chair. "I'm going to the party. You wanna come too? I'm sure the others'll be glad to have you."
"Sure," Rodger said, shrugging, and Carmen trotted out of the lobby after Shirley.
They were greeted by laughter coming from the Computer Room. The trio walked in and were welcomed with warm smiles by the people within, as well as a loud cheery greeting from R-II. Carmen felt a wave of warmth come over her, a sense of familiarity, and she felt her melancholy drop away. Kruchov came up to her and patted her head, saying something in his gruff Russian. Carmen did not mind his touch. Veraja gave her one of her trademark bear hugs. Carmen hugged her back. Jessica handed her a brownie and cup of cocoa with a smile. Omoro greeted her with the traditional Donnekahshaie and she returned it, with a few other words he had taught her as well. Basil, Lynn, and Priya all welcomed her, and she returned their welcomes with broad smiles. She belonged here, and she felt the sense of belonging warm her whole being.
Jessica put a record on the turntable she had brought in and started playing a lively melody. Rodger and R-II started singing along and they all clapped and joined in as Rodger started dancing around the room. He pretended to trip and made goofy faces and everyone laughed. Suddenly he took Carmen's hand and led her around the floor, as the others laughed and clapped and sang. The room spun around and Carmen felt herself being handed off to Jessica. Carmen clasped her hand and the two danced across the floor as the room echoed with song and laughter. Ecstasy lifted her and she threw back her head and sang in her own strong beautiful voice, melding in with the others, realizing she had finally found what she was missing. These people accepted her, loved her, and she realized in a sudden bright flash of awareness that she loved them as well. She did have a family.
The Seniors were her family.
---------------------------------------
Return to the main page of Khisondhanna.