Chapter Four: Where There’s a Will, There’s a.....well?

Meanwhile, Walter and Patty were reminiscing with the Pierces and the Klingers about the last reunion they’d had, in January of 1964.

"It was freezing cold, remember that?" Walter said, smiling. "And Rachel was just a month old. We were kind of afraid to bring her. She was born a month early anyway."

Margaret spoke up. "I remember perfectly. She was the most beautiful baby, Radar. I couldn’t let her go! I believe that I held her more than Patty did! It was hard, keeping up with a two-year-old Ben. And Soon-Lee was pregnant with Jacob, wasn’t she?"

Klinger laughed. "Look at them now, all grown up. Jacob’s fifteen, Rachel’s almost sixteen, and Ben graduates next year."

"We’ll have three graduations in a row to go to! Ben and Elizabeth’s in ‘80, Rachel’s in ‘81, and Jacob’s in ‘82!" Hawkeye implied.

"Of course!" Charles announced. "Hawkeye, Margaret, and Ben came to Charla’s."

"Charles, remember when you came to mine and Margaret’s wedding in ‘54? You had Helena with you then. And I came to your wedding three months later. All of Boston was there!"

"Of course," Charles exclaimed. "Then came Radar and Patty’s wedding in ‘56, in St. Louis. That was a family affair, wasn’t it. Your mother looked so proud, Radar. And your bride looked so beautiful."

"When Kaleo and Jacob were born, we made it a point to send every one of you a photograph. It just so happened that I sent Jacob’s first picture the same day I received one of Rachel from Radar." Klinger announced.

"Which reminds me, Klinger," Radar announced. "I brought some of Rachel’s pictures to share with you all. Some of them are really hilarious!" He brought out a huge green photo album with Rachel’s name and date of birth on it.

Hawkeye took the pictures from Radar and opened the book. First were Rachel’s baby pictures, where her bright baby blue eyes shone from a heap of red curls. Next was a picture of Rachel getting off of the plane in Iowa, giving double peace signs like President Nixon. There was one of her Methodist dedication, when she was only a few days old, in a starched white satin gown that almost swallowed her. There were newspaper clippings from contests and things that she had done.

Margaret pointed to one clipping of Rachel sitting behind a piano. "Radar, what’s this?"

"That’s Rachel and her band when they won first place in a youth music competition. They call themselves ‘Louie’s Odyssies’. You’ll have to get her to play for you, Father Mulcahy. She sings like a nightingale."

Jacob turned around quickly. "What kind of music do they play?"

"Anything, really. Billy Joel’s her favorite, though. And the Bee Gees."

"Great!" Jacob shouted. "I have a band, the Mud Chicks. They’re really bad, though. Maybe she’d let me sing with her a few times. Do you think she will, Mr. O’Reilly?"

"There’s only one way to find out, Jacob. Go ask her. I’d like to hear you!"

Meanwhile, Erin and Rachel were chatting with Charla about politics. Charla was voicing her deep hatred of Democrats. "I seriously think that President Carter is a fake."

Rachel laughed. "Doesn’t everyone? My theory is this. Carter’s a conspiracy theory to take over the world for the Confederates. And he has an alliance with Russia to provide nuclear weapons, and Rosalynn is a Russian."

Erin snorted. "That’s ridiculous, Rachel. But it would make one heck of a story for the Enquirer."

"That’s the point. Last year I was co-editor of the Viking Herald, my school newspaper. My dad threw us this big party on the last day of press, and we had a blast. You see, the editor was a senior, Timothy. He called himself The Big Cheese and called me Fresh Meat, because I was the only freshman on the staff. So at the party, he presented me with the title of editor for the next three years, a big block of cheese, and some fresh meat. We made cheeseburgers. At school we had an editorial called ‘The Cheeseburger Thoughts’. That’s where I spread all of my Carter theories."

Charla looked shocked. "And you didn’t get in trouble?"

"Nah. We had a ball. Once we said that the Cardinals pitcher was an extraterrestrial, and another time we said that one of the Bee Gees was really Andy Gibb part time. That one really ticked off some people. We just couldn’t make any race related comments. I don’t think Tim and I would have done that anyway! All we did was make people think."

Erin laughed. "I don’t think many people are going to have too many second thoughts about those topics."

Jacob entered the room. "Hi, Rachel. Listen, your dad told us that you sing. So do I. I was wondering if.."

"What do you play?" Rachel inquired.

"Lots of things. Disco, funk, we play it all."

"I meant, what instrument. I play piano."

"Oh. I play guitar."

"Good. My guitarist is my neighbor, Spencer Buchanan. He’s pretty good, I guess. How long have the Mud Chicks been together?"

"About three months," Jacob replied. "We’re not good at all. Louie’s Odyssies must be pretty good if they won a contest! The only contest we’ve won is the band that’s had the police called on them the most!"

Rachel and Jacob sauntered down to the Pierces’ living room and Rachel sat down at the piano. "Got any requests?"

"Not right now. What artists do you like the most?"

"Billy Joel. Before I left for here, I bought his album The Stranger. I love it. They don’t call him ‘Piano Man’ for nothing, you know."

Jacob grinned. "Yeah, I know. I’m kind of partial to the Bee Gees. None of us Mud Chicks could get those high notes on ‘Stayin’ Alive’ right. We like Kansas, Hall and Oates, Orleans..."

At the mention of Orleans Rachel’s face turned bright red. "Okay, Jacob, we’ll play something we both know. Do you like Fleetwood Mac?"

"Of course I do! I was the first person in Toledo to buy Rumours."

"Then let’s get crackin’!" Rachel retrieved her sheet music. " ‘Little Lies’ OK?"

"Sure." Jacob started strumming on his guitar, but he found he couldn’t concentrate very well on his music. Rachel had cast a spell on him with her piano and her beautiful voice. Besides, she was beautiful herself.

"Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies," Rachel sang. She noticed that Jacob had stopped. "Hey, what did you stop for?" she asked.

"Oh...nothing, really," Jacob stuttered. He could feel his face blushing. This was not supposed to happen to him! He liked Rachel as a friend, but he couldn’t help but be attracted to her. Suddenly a thought crossed Jacob’s mind. If Rachel can dance as well as she sings, then why not go to a disco with her? It couldn’t hurt to ask, could it?

"Hey, Rachel?"

She whirled around and faced him. He noticed her beautiful eyes. "What?"

"You know that little disco down the road? The one where you don’t have to be 18 to get in to?"

"Sure."

"You want to go tomorrow night? And after that we can see Smokey and the Bandit."

"Seen it."

Jacob swallowed frantically. "All right, how about Alien?"

Rachel laughed. "Jacob Maxwell Klinger, are you asking me on a date?"

"No. I gotta go." Jacob left the room.

"Hey, wait!" Jacob turned around at the sound of Rachel’s voice. "I’d love to!"

Chapter Five: Hopelessly Devoted to You

Rachel sighed as she tried to find something to wear for the night at the disco. It’s not a date, she told herself, although she had the queasy feeling that it was going to seem like that to Jacob. She hadn’t wanted to hurt him, so she had decided to go tonight. It was only one more day until the ball, anyway. She had her Princess Leia costume all ready, complete with a wig that she had gotten last year in St. Louis.

Going through the closet that she and Erin shared, Rachel decided on a baby-blue handkerchief dress and a big black overcoat to go with it. She had to have the overcoat, because she knew her father would never let her out of the house with something like that on. Rachel also had a large selection of platform shoes. They were complete necessities to her, as she inherited her father’s height.

Rachel yawned, shut her closet doors, and made her way over to the mirror. She looked at her reflection and frowned. She never had thought she was beautiful, but today her color was pale and she looked weak. The fact that her Farrah Fawcett haircut framed her face didn’t help any, either. She knew what it was; her sugar was getting low. She hadn’t eaten anything for dinner, for the simple reason that Margaret’s cooking wasn’t fit for prisoners. Tomorrow will be better, she thought. Charles had promised to cook. She didn’t know how well he could cook, but Charla complemented it. She was so hungry, but all that was in the kitchen were the leftovers from Margaret’s horrendous meatloaf. Even thinking about it made Rachel want to gag, much less wanting to eat it. But if she didn’t eat something, she’d have an attack. She opened the door to her safe, and stuck a syringe in the pocket of her overcoat. If I get sick, she thought, I’ll just go to the bathroom and take this.

Jacob adjusted his collar as he went up the steps to meet Rachel. He was dressed in a white leisure suit that his mother had made for him. How could Rachel resist a man in this, he thought. That white suit was as good as it got at the disco, and he expected girls to be hitting on him all night long. Personally, he thought he looked exactly like a half-Lebanese, half-Korean John Travolta.

Rachel heard a knock at her door. "Who is it?"

"It’s me!" Jacob called. "You ready?"

She opened the door and started laughing uncontrollably at the first sight of Jacob Klinger. He looks like an absolute idiot in that suit, she thought. Maybe if he actually weighed a hundred pounds! She tried to contain her laughter.

On their way out the door, Radar passed Rachel in the hall. "Rachel, are you okay? You look a bit pale."

"I’m fine. It’s the makeup. The style is to wear it pale. Gotta go."

"Hey, Rachel, are you sure?"

"I’m sure." Rachel slammed the door before Radar could say anything.

Jacob and Rachel arrived at the disco about a half hour later. The club, called the Cave on the Cove, was a neat little building that had obviously been used as something else long ago. It sat on a beach overlooking the ocean and the pier where fishermen brought home the catch. They went inside, only to find that the club was crowded inside.

Rachel noticed Jacob shivering inside the warm building. "I’m claustrophobic." he explained sheepishly.

"That’s okay. We’ll just go to the beach. We can hear the music there, too." Rachel also started to notice that she was getting pretty weak also, and very quickly. She sat down beside Jacob, who was calmly popping mints into his mouth.

"Hey, Rachel, what do you think about this beach, heh? Pretty cool, isn’t it? We don’t have anything like this in Toledo, and I know you don’t in St. Louis. Isn’t that right?" He looked over at Rachel sitting beside him, and he jumped up quickly when he saw her glazed eyes and emotionless expression. "Rachel? Rachel, wake up!!"

She kept staring straight ahead. "S-s-sugar," she muttered under her breath.

Jacob frantically stuffed his jacket under Rachel’s head as he went into the club. At the coffee stand next to the door, he found packs of sugar. Rushing back to Rachel, he quickly poured each one into her mouth.

Slowly, Rachel opened her eyes and saw Jacob hovering over her, a frightened expression on his face. She tried to stand up, but she was still so shaken up from the whole experience that she couldn’t.

"Here," Jacob offered his arm to Rachel, and she gladly took it. "You fainted, Rachel. When we get back to Hawkeye’s I’m going to have him take a look at you."

"No you’re not!" Rachel broke away from Jacob and started running.

"Rachel! Come back!" Jacob called after her, but she was already running too fast for him to catch her. He started running after her anyway.

Rachel was running as fast as she could towards Hawkeye’s. If she got there in time, she could delay anything from happening by stalling Hawkeye. She would die of embarrassment and humiliation if Jacob Klinger told Hawkeye and then Hawkeye let it slip to Ben.

Jacob, however, was faster. He came up from behind Rachel, and whirled her around by the shoulders. "What’s the matter with you? I save your life and this is this is the thanks I get for it? C’mon, Rachel, what’s wrong?"

She burst into tears, begging, "Please don’t tell Dr. Pierce! Please? It means the world to me, Jacob."

"All right. I won’t say a word."

Later that night, Jacob couldn’t sleep. He knew that he should have told Dr. Pierce what was wrong, even if it had meant hurting Rachel. But hurting her was out of the question. No matter how much she loved that other guy, Jacob loved her. Quietly, he slipped out of his room and into the Pierces’ kitchen.

Creeping through the halls of the old house, Jacob noticed the lights were on in the kitchen. Good, maybe he’d find someone else who couldn’t sleep. He walked into the kitchen, only to find Father Mulcahy, studying his sermon.

Father looked up, smiling at Jacob. "Couldn’t sleep?"

"Yeah. I have a lot on my mind."

Father Mulcahy turned to face Jacob. "Would you like to talk about it?"

Jacob sighed and sat down. A priest couldn’t tell anything to anyone, could he? "Can I tell you something like a confession, so you wouldn’t tell anyone?"

"Yes, of course you can."

Jacob looked down at the countertop. "Okay. I have a problem. What do you do when you love somebody so much you’d do anything in the world for them, but they’ve already given their heart to someone else? And you think that what you’re doing to keep her from hating you is going to hurt her, but you can stand to hurt her yourself?"

Mulcahy flipped through his Bible. "Oh, yes, here it is. Jacob, in the Bible, that is, worked a total of fourteen years so he could marry Rachel."

Jacob stared at the ceiling. "I’d work twenty. Or more! I love her so much, Father! And it’s not lust, either, I’ll tell you that right now. I love her for the person she is, the person she thinks nobody will ever love if they find out what’s wrong with her!"

Father Mulcahy smiled at Jacob and touched his shoulder. "I assume you’re talking about Rachel?" Jacob nodded. "What’s wrong with her?"

Jacob told Mulcahy the whole story. When he had finished, Father Mulcahy looked straight at Jacob. "Don’t worry. I’ll talk to Radar about this. If there’s anyone who needs to know this, he does. And Dr. Pierce will never find out."

"Do you promise?"

"I’ll do my best."

Jacob raised his voice. "Father, I need an answer. I need to know."

Mulcahy looked at the floor. "All right, Jacob. I promise."

Chapter Six: Dreaming of You

"It’s a beautiful morning..." Erin Hunnicutt sang as she tried to wake up Charla and Rachel.

Rachel yawned and opened her eyes. Erin, as usual, was as bright and cheerful as if it were the afternoon instead of at eight in the morning.

"Breakfast is ready! Father Mulcahy volunteered to cook this morning, and we have ham and cheese omelets!"

Charla groaned. "Joy. Well, I shouldn’t be saying that. We should all be on our knees right now thanking God that Margaret’s not standing at that stove."

Rachel stuffed a pillow over her face. "Amen."

"Now girls," Erin reprimanded, "That’s not nice. Get up with the birds for once! It’s beautiful on the beach this time of day. Besides, breakfast will be wonderful this morning, I’m sure."

"If it’s not, I can always feed it to Mystella." Rachel’s albino ferret, Mystella, had accompanied her to Crabapple Cove. She had been Rachel’s fifteenth birthday present from her father, and she had refused to leave her in St. Louis.

About thirty minutes later, Charla and Rachel trudged down the walkway to the main house, where Father Mulcahy was waiting for them with a plate full of omelets. Surprisingly, Erin had been right on the fact that the priest could cook a mean plate of eggs.

Margaret stood up at the table. "I have an announcement to make. The costume ball for the vets has been canceled."

Rachel and the rest of the party groaned, but Margaret silenced them. "Wait! Let me finish. In place will be a formal party. That means your very best apparel. If you don’t have any, you can drive to Bangor this week and rent some."

Rachel looked at her father with a sad face. "But I won’t get to be Princess Leia!"

"You’re always a princess to me." Radar laughed at his daughter.

Ben stared deep into Rachel’s eyes. "And me, too." Rachel gave him a mad look and gestured at her father, who did not look very happy at Ben’s comment.

Back in the guest house, Charla asked Rachel if she had anything to wear. Rachel was getting used to Charla, and while she was far from perfect, she was a thousand times nicer than her sister.

"Yes, I have my prom dress from last year. I got invited to the senior prom by Timothy, the editor. So I had to get a new dress. Want to see?" Charla and Erin both nodded eagerly.

She went to the closet and pulled out her dress, another thing that she had refused to leave in St. Louis. It was white, spaghetti straps with a floor length, bushy skirt that looked like Cinderella’s. The material was a beautiful white, with tiny sparkles inside of it. Even Charla gasped in regard to its beauty. She hadn’t had to beg much for the dress, because all she needed was the fabric. She had made it herself, with the help of a sewing machine.

"Gosh, Rachel, that’s beautiful," Erin gawked. "I never had anything like that, ever. In fact, I don’t have anything now. Tomorrow I’ll have to drive to Bangor. Want to come?"

"No," Charla said, "Because you’re not going to Bangor. You are going to borrow one of my dresses from the Charla Collection. I don’t have anything as pretty as Rachel’s, but I didn’t bring my very finest."

"That’s very generous of you, Charla." Erin remarked as she selected a formal from Charla’s closet. In the end, Charla had a forest green, short, satin, going to the best disco in Boston dress, accompanied by an emerald necklace, a mink coat, and green platform heels. Erin was on the other side of the room, squealing with delight at her bright red, long, off the shoulder number. It had a tight skirt until about the knee, where it burst into an abundance of red satin until it reached her feet, where red platform shoes with a gold buckle joined the outfit.

"Thanks so much, Charla! You’re an angel!" Erin swirled around in front of the mirror.

The next few days were a mix of chaos and excitement, as everyone tried to get ready for the party. Finally, the big night came.

"Rachel!" Radar called up at the window next to the guest house. "Time to leave!"

Rachel scurried down the steps, looking like a medieval princess, to the applause of everyone in the room. Everyone, that is, except Elizabeth.

Chapter Seven: A Thin Line Between Love and Hate

The veterans’ ball was in full swing later that night, and sure enough, Rachel O’Reilly was everyone’s darling. Radar was enjoying everyone’s comments about how beautiful Rachel was.

Igor Straminsky walked up to Radar. "My son wants your daughter like President Carter wants another four years in the Big House."

"Yeah, and like the president, he’s not gonna get it."

"We’ll see."

Laughing, he motioned for Rachel to dance with him. She sat down her drink and told Ben to wait for her. First, she danced with Reginald Straminsky just so he would shut up. Then she danced with Hawkeye, Charles, and finally her father.

"Looks like you’re the star of the show, Rachel." Radar complimented. "Everyone here seems to think so. Geez, when I knew these people, I bet they didn’t know how pretty you’d be!"

Charla came running across the dance floor. "Excuse me, Mr. O’Reilly. Rachel, I need to talk to you. This is so important."

"It better be good." Rachel followed Charla into the bathroom.

"Rachel. I only told you this because you are my friend. No one here besides you and Erin likes me. So I’m sticking up for you. Go into the alley behind here through the back door. You’ll find a little room. Go inside."

"Why?"

"Just do it. Trust me. I’ll be right behind you."

She followed Charla’s directions into the room. There she found the most shocking thing in her life.

Ben and Elizabeth were kissing, madly, against the wall. Even the approaching footsteps of Rachel didn’t sway them.

She came up behind Ben and tapped him lightly on the shoulder. He turned around. "What? Rachel?"

"You lying scum." Rachel backed up and delivered a swift punch to Ben’s face, breaking his nose. She then turned to Elizabeth, but no words were spoken.

"Please! You don’t understand! I was..." Elizabeth begged for Rachel not to hurt her, but she slammed her up against the concrete wall.

"You were just what? I never did like you, Elizabeth. And you, Ben. I actually loved you, the only person in the world that I felt that way for, and you hurt me like this. I..." Rachel turned away and took off running towards Hawkeye’s house. Charla turned to follow her, but she decided to go and get Jacob, who took off flying after her.

Rachel ran as fast as she could, but with three inch platforms, it wasn’t easy. She took off her shoes and ran barefoot through the sand. Her hair fell down from the bun she had it up in, and she tried to push it out of her face as she ran.

Finally, she reached Hawkeye and Margaret’s place, and climbed up the stairs to her room. Opening the door, she nearly fainted from breathlessness. She knew what she must do. No one in the world loved her anymore. Somehow, Ben had probably found out about her problem. That was okay. It wasn’t going to matter anymore, because she was about to end it all.

With trembling hands, Rachel opened the lock to her freezer safe. She took out a syringe, and drew in air. She had been properly trained from the time she was a little kid that even a small bubble in the syringe could kill her. It would put air into her veins, and within minutes she would have a heart attack. Rachel closed her eyes and injected the needle into her skin. Just as she was about to push the plunger, a hand tore the needle out of her skin.

"Jacob? What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be at the party, aren’t you?"

"I followed you." Jacob looked deep into Rachel’s blue eyes. "Rachel, why? Why did you try to do that? Do you know how much pain that would have caused? Do you?" He shook her by the shoulders.

Rachel burst into tears. "No. Nobody would care. Nobody ever does!"

Jacob held her face in his hands. "That’s not true. You mean the world to your father. He would have went off the deep end had he lost you. And think of all the rest of them! Charla, Erin," He paused. "Think about me, Rachel. I love you more than I ever have anyone. I know you didn’t know that, I was just waiting for the right time to tell you."

Rachel smiled through her tears. "No time like the present."

Jacob smiled back at her, leaned over her, and gave Rachel O’Reilly the longest kiss of her life.

"How’s that, princess?" Jacob said, blushing.

"Really great." She turned off the light and followed Jacob out the door. "Just do me one favor."

"Anything you’d like!"

"Get rid of that jive leisure suit."

Afterword: After leaving Hawkeye’s, Jacob and Rachel started weekend work on Louie’s Odyssies, which Jacob later joined. In the spring of 1981, right before Rachel was supposed to graduate, Louie’s Odyssies scored a Top Ten hit with their song "Never How You Think", which was written about the Crabapple Cove Incident. They remained one of the most popular bands of the eighties, ruling the charts with such artists as Duran Duran, Michael Jackson, Culture Club, and of course, Fleetwood Mac. In 1987, Jacob Klinger and Rachel O’Reilly married. In 1993, their daughter, Reilly Erin Klinger, was born.

Ben Pierce and Elizabeth Winchester never married. He married a local girl from Maine, and to this day Elizabeth never married.

Erin Hunnicutt was married the following year to a doctor from Illinois. Her brother, Andrew, was introduced to Charla, whom he wed in 1984 (strongly against Charles’ wishes), and they had a son in 1985, Charles B.J. Hunnicutt.