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                                 MARINER II
 
                        by Jason A. Miller  (C) 1998
 
                        Chapter 5:  Don't You Want Me?

	Jimmy slid open the alley-side door of the Tool 'N
Die, and wheeled his bike inside.  One of Callie's dark blue
jumpsuits hung on a peg just inside the door.  He looked
forlornly at it, and grabbed a sleeve, as if to grab Callie's
arm.
	Barek coughed.  Jimmy jumped, and let go.  His boss
was taking apart a boat motor, but looking right at him while
working.
	"I understand that Callie was a little late to school
this morning.  Is that right, young James?"
	"How'd you find out about that, Barek?"  Relations
between the two had become rather frosty over the last couple
of weeks.
	"This is a small town.  Word gets around fast.  It's
easy to find out what anyone is up to.  Anyone at all."
	Callie, during one of their fights, had shouted that
everything Barek ever said was laced with double meaning, and
that Jimmy was too blind to notice.  Well, not anymore.
	"Yeah," Jimmy said.  "She showed up for the last half
hour of school today.  Didn't get a chance to speak to her,
though."  He still stood near the door, hesitant to walk
further into the room.
	"I was hoping you might.  I'd like to know if she's
planning to come back to work.  Otherwise, I'll have to have
her jumpsuit refitted."
	"Ah, c'mon, Barek, cut her some slack.  She and her
dad haven't been getting along.  It's not wonder she's missed
work."
	"Times are changing, my friend.  You may not have
the pleasure of my company for much longer.  And I'd certainly
miss working with two such gifted young gearheads."
	Time to be direct.  "You're not threatening to shut
the place down, are you, Barek?"
	"Let me give you a word of advice, young James, he said
through a sneer.  A bad sign -- the sneers were usually reserved
for Callie.  Jimmy was the one he was supposed to smile paternally
at.  "If things keep up the way they are, I won't be needed in
Swans Crossing for much longer."
	"And where are you planning on going?"
	"Oh.  Abroad, perhaps.  And I can't take you with me.
So it's in your best interest to..." Barek trailed off, looking
meaningfully at his employee.
	"Yes?"
	"Win Callie back.  And, as a one-time only parting
gift, from me to the two of you, I may have just the idea..."

	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*

	The man in the black suit shut off the receiver, and
pushed back his swivel chair with an annoyed sigh.  He spoke
aloud to himself.  "Our operative would appear to be losing
patience with his current assignment.  This does not bode well."
His voice was refined and theatrical.  In the half-light of
the chamber, his skin glowed a dull bronze, and he looked
somewhat sinister.
	Or maybe he wasn't speaking only to himself, for a disembodied
voice answered him.  Perhaps it came from the next room.  Or perhaps
there was no next room, and it was coming from an intercom.
	"Maybe the arrival of our commander in chief this coming
weekend will refocus him for the task at hand."
	"One would hope.  If he keeps this up, his cover will
be blown by a group of schoolchildren.  And that would be a disaster 
for the national interest."

	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*

	Jazz braced herself for the after-school onslaught.
On some afternoons, it seemed as if the entire population
of Swans High passed through her diner.  No problem there --
it paid the bills, and so soon after racking up a hefty
tuition as a business management grad student.  And it made her
feel close to the kids, those who liked her and included
her in their groups of friends.
	But, oh, carrying all that food.  She should've
picked a less exhausting career -- like running marathons!
	In need of a quick break, she sat down on a spare stool
next to Glory and Nancy at the bar.  Thirteen, and fourteen.
Add up their ages, and they were still younger than she was (albeit
with a combined boyfriend total of one, which was about one or
two greater than her own total at the moment.)
	"So, girls.  Fill me in."
	"What do you want to know, Jazz?" asked Glory.  She
wore a rose-pink sweater (sweater during the summer? Jazz 
wondered) over a white long-sleeved T-shirt, with tight-
fitting flower-print pants.
	"Gossip, of course!", and they all laughed.
	"Callie was sick all day.  But she showed up for
English class -- in the middle of ninth period!" said Nancy.
"Imagine that -- coming all the way to school just for half
an hour of a substitute teacher.  Something's strange about
that family of hers."
	"But what a teacher ninth period," chimed in Glory.  
"Jazz, you remember the Doctor and Professor Summerfield?  They
visited here one day last month?"
	"How could I forget?  The Doctor ordered enough food
to put my dishwashers through college!"
	"Well, they're back, as substitute teachers!  The Doctor
taught ninth and tenth grade English, and Benny taught history
to the eighth graders.  She had us in stitches!"
	"And I didn't even get to see them," Nancy said, "after
everything Glory's been saying about them for weeks.  Very
convenient!"
	"You should invite them to this party of yours," said
Jazz.  "Maybe I could get the Doctor to be my date!"
	The girls laughed.  "Don't worry, Jazz dear.  I'm helping
Glory arrange some interesting couples for this weekend," said
Nancy.
	"Oh, do tell!"
	Nancy flashed an I-know-something-you-don't-know look
at the others.  "Let's just say that Sydney Rutledge and Sandy
Swan are going to be in for quite an evening!"
	That was, Jazz realized later, when she really should
have started to worry.

	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*

	Ralph, the butler of Rutledge Mansion, took his daily
afternoon tea at the library.  Since earlier that summer, he'd
taken to sharing the ritual with Mr. Han, the librarian.  They
kept each other up to date on goings-on about town.  For his part,
Ralph divulged the Mayor's campaign strategies, and secret
rendezvouses with Jerry the campaign manager.  Mr. Han knew
what everyone read, and shared his political science volumes
with the inquisitive butler.
	"Most good of you to join me, Mr. Han," said Ralph.
"I eagerly await our afternoons away from the hustle and
bustle of life in this small, yet undeniably important town."
	"Indeed, Sir Ralph," said the librarian.  "In order
to truly observe one's world, one must step away from it
entirely and observe from a distance."
	"Well put, Mr. Han," said an unfamiliar voice.
	They turned around.  The Doctor stood in the
office doorway.  He doffed his hat to them.
	"Might I pull up a chair?" he said.
	Ralph and Mr. Han glanced at each other curiously,
and then Ralph spoke.  "I see, sir, from your accent, that you
and I are of a kind.
	"Indeed," said Mr. Han.  "You must be British.  And
with whom do I have the honor of meeting, Sir.."
	"Not Sir.  Just Doctor," the newcomer said.  "And
the accent is Scottish, properly speaking."
	"Well.  It is an honor to meet you, Doctor, um... who,
exactly?" said Ralph.
	The Doctor flashed his Cheshire-cat grin, and remained
silent.

	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*

	Like Jimmy before, Callie slid open the alley door and walked
into the shop.  There was no-one else there.  She shrugged,
grabbed her worksuit off of the hook, and slid inside.
She zipped up the front, grabbed a headband off of the hook,
and pushed her hair out of her eyes.
	She walked over the main workbench in the middle of the
shop.  There were only three employees, and one of them was
Barek, so there wasn't much need for organization here.  Indeed,
it wasn't so much that she or Jimmy was assigned to a particular
project, as they just worked on whatever lay on the table in front
of them.
	She heard a motorcycle engine in the alley.  At the same
time, the front door opened, and Barek walked in.  "Well well
well, she has returned," he announced.
	"Nice of you to notice, Barek."
	"What can I say?  I value my employees."
	"And where have you been?"
	"Young James and I had a brief errand to run.  We were
expecting you'd be back, actually."
	"An errand?  Wouldn't have anything to do with ice
cream, cotton balls, or rock-hound tools, would it?"
	He glared at her, which awkwardly turned into a smile.
"In fact, Callie, Jimmy and I had the idea to buy something
for you.  A welcome-back present, so to speak."
	"I've only been gone one day!" she said, through gritted teeth.
	"What?" he said, "is it so wrong for me to bestow a gift
upon a favored student?"
	"I don't understand," she complained.  "Is this `Be Nice
to Callie Walker' day again?"
	Barek grabbed her by the elbow.  She flinched, but the
grip wasn't an unkind one as such.  He steered her out into
the alley, where her bike was parked next to Jimmy's.  Jimmy
sat on his bike, helmet at the ready, with a plastic shopping
bag slung over one shoulder.  So that was the engine she'd heard.
	"Here you go.  Why don't you gearheads go enjoy the
autumn afternoon, and get to know each other?
	Callie wanted to scowl, but there was Jimmy... oh,
to not have Barek to keep an eye on!  There was so much she
wanted to say, needed to say, but not while she was trying to
keep an eye on her enigmatic boss.  She'd already lost the
wonderful feeling she'd felt in class, looking at Jimmy.
	But before she could think of an answer, Barek had
already retreated into the shop, and the door was closed.
She tried to open it, but it had been locked from the inside
	She felt a hand on her shoulder, and tensed.
	"Walker Woman," he said.  "You have to learn to
relax."
	"But I left my things in there!"
	He sighed.  "Listen.  If you're not up for this..."
	She turned to look at him.  His hand dropped down.
She had a decision to make.  Who was it going to be?

	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*

	Next on his list of places to visit was the DeCastro
home.  It would be nice to see Saja again, see how the
youthful Eastern mystic was getting along.  The Doctor rapped on
the door with his umbrella handle, and a dark-haired girl,
probably only a few years older than Saja, answered.
	"Ah, good afternoon!" he burbled, doffing his hat.
"Is young Saja home?"
	The girl asked, "Who?", rather rudely, he thought.
	"Er, Saja," he stammered.  "Or Bobby."
	"Don't any of you people know his name?" the girl
complained.
	"Aha.  You must be his older sister."
	"Who are you?  And what do you know about me?"
	"Absolutely nothing, I can assure you," he demurred.
"Er, perhaps I'll return later, good afternoon to you!"  He
replaced his hat, stuck his umbrella back in the crook of his
arm, and hastily backpedaled away from the residence.
	Once he was gone, Sophia shut the door, and sighed
dramatically.  Saja came to the door, crunching on an apple.
	"Who was that?", he asked between mouthfuls.
	"Some weirdo," Sophia said, shoving past him, leaving
him somewhat bewildered.  "And stop telling your grownie friends 
about me!"

	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*

	In the end, Callie decided to follow Jimmy.  She rode after
his bike for about twenty minutes.  The entire world was his
tailpipe, denim jacket, and the back of his helmet.  Left to
her own thoughts, she spent the early stages of the ride worrying
about Barek.  However, by the time they had arrived at their stop,
her thoughts had traced an intricate spiral all the way down
to what she and Jimmy would *say* to each other after all this
time.
	"Don't say anything.  Just... don't say anything, all
right?" she'd admonished him, the first time they'd seen each
other, after he'd gone off with Sophia and left her at the dance.
	"Sshh.  Let's just get lost in the clouds again, all right?"
she'd said, after she'd gotten mad at him and spoiled the magical
afternoon at the Swans' Club.
	Maybe she'd just let him do the talking this time.
	So she was surprised when they ended up at a park
at the edge of town.  Lots of tall trees and leafy green
foliage, and a bicycle trail ("Positively no motor vehicles
allowed!").  Militant bicyclists in helmets and spandex
shorts whizzed off into the distance, pausing only to dodge
kamikaze roller-bladers and the occasional dog-walker.
	Jimmy sat down on a nearby bench, and started untying
his shoes.  And he'd not looked at her once, the whole time.
	"Are you still mad at me for what I said back at the
garage?"
	But he said nothing.  Both shoes were off.  He opened
the drawstring top of his plastic bag and placed his shoes
inside.
	"Look, what are we doing here?  You can at least say
something to me!"
	He looked up at her, doe-eyed.  She fell silent.
He pulled two pairs of roller-blades out of the bag.  One
pair had neon green wheels, the other, pink.  He placed the green
pair down by his feet, and silently offered her the other pair.
	"But I don't know how to roller-blade," she protested.
	"What's the matter?  Scared?"
	"Excuse me, I can ride my cycle just as well as you can.
I can learn to do this, too.  Just watch."  So she put on the pair
he'd given her, and immediately started sliding around the pavement.
With an undignified yelp, she grabbed onto her bike for support.
	"It's all right, Walker Woman.  I'm gonna teach you."
	"Was this Barek's idea?"
	He didn't answer that.
	"And how are you going to teach me?  By letting me fall?"
	"Don't be unfair.  I caught you when the ladder broke,
remember?"
	"And I wouldn't ever forget that."
	"This time I though I'd hold your hand and teach you how
to skate next to me.  With me," he said.
	So she blushed.

	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*

	"Of course, the mansion has been deserted since my
darling angel moved to France.  But the staff has been
efficient, and everything is well prepared for our return,"
said Countess Rosnovsky.  She sat on an overstuffed pink
couch in Mila's bedroom, taking afternoon tea with the Doctor.
A serving-lady in a French maid's outfit stood unobtrusively
in the background, dusting furniture.
	"Indeed," said the Doctor.  "After time spent in Swans
Crossing, a month in Europe must seem positively, erm," he
said, grasping for a word she wouldn't recognize.
	"Stultifying! Thank you," said the Countess, laughing
heartily and placing a hand on his elbow.  "I must say, dear
Doctor, that the Captain was right about you.  You are a man of
rare perception and wit."
	"The Captain and I do go back some time, yes."
	"Elia was such a cut-up when we were all in school
together.  One wonders both how he managed to become a recluse,
and how he managed to find a friend as unique as you,
Doctor!"
	"I have been known to assist him out of a few tight
corners," said the Doctor slowly.
	"Yes.  I heard something about that dreadful affair
last month.  You mean to say you were all stranded on a boat
in the middle of the Pacific Ocean?"
	"Ah," murmured the Doctor.  "That wasn't my show.
His daughter rather proved herself a fine young woman that
afternoon."
	"Such a resourceful child," the Countess agreed.
	"But it is the Captain who holds your attention,
my sources tell me."
	"You know how it is, Doctor.  One must do what one
can to draw the recluses out of their shell, and place them
back in proper society."
	"Indeed I do, Countess.  Indeed I do.  Which is
why I've come here.  There's the little matter of a ball
being held this weekend, and I thought the Captain might
appreciate the pleasure of your company."
	"Ah!  How absolutely charming!  Of course I shall
contact the Captain and once and convey my acceptance."
She reached for the telephone.  The Doctor sat back and
allowed himself a cat-like smile.  Elia would never forgive
him for this, of course, but even this unlikely pairing
would have its advantages in the long run.

	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*

	And so it was that Callie clung onto Jimmy, first his
hand, and then his arm, for dear life, as he took off faster
and faster down the path.  She wasn't exactly dressed for physical 
exercise, but she wouldn't trade the time alone with Jimmy for anything.  
Here she was, holding his hand, and they didn't even have to talk 
to each other.  If only they could have done this a month ago.  I
f only she hadn't been so preoccupied.
	It started raining heavily towards 5 PM, and they
sheltered under a tree during the downpour, still managing
to get very wet.  But then the sun came out again, and
burned the rainwater off the ground.  They resumed skating, 
surrounded by a thin coating ground mist.  It smelled heavenly.
It smelled like the fresh laundry in the rain from her dream.
Maybe it was all coming true.
	Jimmy pulled off to the side of the trail again,
and they sat down on a bench.  He pulled his knees up,
and turned to look at her.
	"I love ground fog," Callie commented.  "This reminds me of the 
time my dad and I went hiking in Iceland.  I was 11 years old.  It
was so peaceful."
	"Was it?"
	"It was.  It has to do with the volcanoes, and the
ground.  It's like a movie set."
	"And what about this?" he asked.
	She beamed at him.  "Nice scenery.  Nice company.  It's
nice."
	He still peered at her.  His gaze was so direct.
"I've missed you, Callie."  She noticed that he flushed a little,
as if saying her name aloud had required an effort.
	She hesitated, and looked away.  "It's been a while, I
know."
	"A long while."
	"I know, I know.  It's just that... well..."
	"Yes?"
	She laughed.  "All right.  I have no explanation at
all.  I'm fifteen years old and I just don't know what it's like
to live at one port, and deal with the same friends for so long."
	"This is real life, Walker Woman.  You can't just pull up
anchor and leave Clayton City behind without notice.  You've
gotta talk to me, you know"
	"Even so.  I've missed you too.  I've had a lot of dreams 
about fighting with you this past month.  I don't want to go
through any more of those."
	"You'll have to tell me about them some time."
	"But there was my dad to think of, and Barek and
J.T. and Neil and the spies. and... and..."
	"And?"
	She thought of the "Mariner"'s helmsman.  So many
faces in and out of her life.  "Well.  I'll tell you, one day."
	"Would all this have anything to do with why you asked
the Doctor back?"
	"A lot of stuff is going to happen very suddenly.  We
need to be prepared.  Only the Doctor can plan that far in
advance.  My dad can't do it alone.  A lot of people are going
to need our help."
	"There wasn't even a fight between us, you know.
I spent the last month trying to figure out what I said,
or what I did, or... or something.  I, er, haven't been able
to figure it out."
	She held up her finger, and shushed it against her lips.
Then she pressed it against his.  "We're here now.  We have
this now.  Can we just enjoy it?  Enjoy the sun, the mist."
	"The company," he said, and flushed again.  She
was beginning to recognize his sudden flashes of energy.  He was
about to do something unpredictable.
	"The rain is gone, but we're still here," he said,
and there was a gleam in his eye.  It spoke of cloud-watching,
engine-building, woobie-hunting.  Late night at the Walker Estate.
Do you know where your ghost is?
	So then they kissed in the lengthening shadows, embraced
by the smell of fresh rainfall, their hands clasped together.
They stayed that way for a while.  There had never been a time
in her life like this before, and now she was going to make sure
that she held on.  Held on, to him.


			TO BE CONTINUED
			Let us hear from you!

***If you have any comments, questions, suggestions, etc. for Jason, send 
them to him at JMILLER6@uoft02.utoledo.edu