Homecoming
Starring: Pip, The Mercenary Mouse
The brawny, imposing mouse warrior paused at the crossroads, and,
following an unexplained impulse, turned away from the path he'd set.
Behind him, a much smaller, slender ferret struggled under a well-laden
pack.
"Um... Aren't we going to look for work in Vale?" The youth
questioned.
"Not this year, Cinder." Merc answered, not volunteering any
information to his young apprentice.
"But you said Vale was where all the good jobs were this time
of year... assassinations, uprisings, kidnappings... all the good, cushy
jobs!"
"That's true." Merc answered, "But we have enough money to last
for a while. I was thinking it might be a good time for a little...
vacation." Cinder stared at Merc, surprised.
"Um... sir, did I hear you right?"
"Yes, I said vacation. I've been thinking about home lately."
Pip admitted, slipping out of character for a moment. The young ferret
laughed.
"Home is where it's always been... just over the next hill."
"I mean the place I was born. I haven't seen any of my
family since I was a child... well, except my sister Kara."
"You have a sister? Is she like you?" Pip smiled ruefully.
"No, she's not. It's a long story."
"Well, long stories were made for walking, you said."
"Are you sure you're a ferret? I could swear you're turning into
a parrot."
"Ok, keep your secrets. Do they know about... about the way you
are?"
"No, on all counts." Pip answered. "I left home... well, I was taken
from home long before I became the Mercenary Mouse."
"You know, you keep promising me you'll tell me about yourself."
The ferret reminded her. Pip heard the longing in her young apprentice's
voice, and smiled. It was only natural that the boy would be curious
about her past, given their relationship, and in truth she had put him off
on the subject too many times already.
"Alright. You find us dinner tonight, and I'll tell you." The
young ferret squealed and pranced in place.
"It's a deal!" He trilled excitedly. Pip smiled at his enthusiasm,
and started.
"I was born and raised in a little village just south of the
K'hand border. I don't remember much about it... except that I was hungry
a lot of the time. I had a couple of brothers, and a sister, Kara, who
was just a little younger than I was. I remember..." Pip closed her eyes,
and reminisced, "playing with dolls with Kara, listening to my father and
my brothers talk about the crops." She opened her eyes. "At least, I guess
that's what they were talking about. They didn't seem to talk about much
else."
"So what happened?" Pip frowned.
"Then the K'hans came. Kara and I were playing out in one of the
fields when we heard the women screaming. We ran for home, but Kara
couldn't keep up with me. I think she tripped... I never looked back to
see. It was just as well. If she'd kept up, she would have been taken
by the K'hans like I was. I ran into the village... there were dead bodies
lying in the street. I'd seen a dead man before... one of my brothers got
kicked in the head by a mule... but I'd never seen people killed violently.
I'll never forget the look on my father's face when he died... it was so
strange. He didn't look like he was in pain just... surprised. My mother
escaped, I know that much. The K'hans were everywhere, like a tide of
black and tan fur seeping through the village. They knew we had nothing,
but they ransacked our homes anyway, burning everything and laughing as we
died. The men they killed... the women they took with them. I was
snatched off my feet, and thrown roughly over the rump of a horse. I
started crying, and the K'han who had taken me smacked me over the head.
Watch your step."
"What?" The ferret blinked at the sudden shift in subjects and
stumbled over a stray root looping out of the ground. "Ow!"
"I tried to warn you. Anyway, that's how it happened. The
K'hans took me back to K'hand, and put me up for auction." The ferret
waited expectantly.
"Well?" He finally asked.
"Well what?"
"Well what happened? Did you get bought?"
"Of course."
"Well, who bought you?"
"Oh, I was sold to one of the larger households... I never knew
exactly whose. The older girls were taken to be chambermaids and
prostitutes and scullerymaids and so-on. I was sent to the kitchens at
first... but I broke every dish I could get my hands on, so they decided
to move me elsewhere."
"They let you get away with that?"
"Not exactly... moving me elsewhere was a punishment. I got all
the heavy, dirty jobs, and a lot more abuse than the other girls. If
anything went wrong, I usually got blamed for it." Pip smiled, "Of course,
it usually WAS my fault. I made it my goal in life to make as much
trouble for the K'hans as I could."
"So what happened? Did they finally get fed up with you?"
"Not exactly... I grew up and blossomed into womanhood, and started
getting noticed." The ferret looked Merc over and smiled wistfully.
"I can see why." Pip snorted.
"Most people don't share your taste in women, Cindy-girl." The
ferret giggled.
"What taste in women?" Pip/Merc smiled.
"Exactly. But even if I wasn't what they usually went for, there
were still a few who weren't all that discriminating.
"I was on my way back from mucking the stables when one of the
K'hans surprised me by pushing me up against the wall and fondling me.
I'd never had anyone do anything of the sort before, and I didn't know how
I was supposed to react, but I knew how I wanted to react, so I did. I
pushed him off of me and slapped him, drawing my claws along his face.
There's no discribing the look of pure shock on that boy's face. Then the
anger caught up with him, I guess. He started yelling, and I was surrounded
and carried off. I put up one hell of a fight, though. It's hard to say
who had more bruises by the time they threw me into the pit, them or me.
"To be honest, the pit wasn't really that bad. My own little
corner of the floor was smaller, and not much more shelter, and while I
was in the pit, they didn't keep finding chores for me to do. Funny thing
is, they fed me better, too. After a day or two, I was pulled out of the
pit, and dragged, kicking and screaming, through the streets, into a
building I'd never seen before. I was tossed into another pit, this one
with walls of stone instead of mud, with a large grate at one end. They
threw a sword and a net down to me, and opened the gate. I couldn't think
what they wanted to give me a sword for, so I left it where it was, and
walked outside.
"I was at the end of a huge walled-in oval, with gates set at
regular intervals throughout. Along the top of the wall, in concentric
steps, were row upon row of K'hans, and at the far end, I saw something
pawing the ground. I'd never seen a Bovo before, so I didn't know that
he was about to charge at me, so I just stood there. He snorted and ran
straight for me, horns lowered. I got the idea, and moved out of the way.
I still didn't feel afraid... the idea that he was trying to kill me hadn't
caught up with me. The Bovo turned around, and looked at me curiously
for a few minutes, as if unsure of how to proceed. The crowd began shouting
and chanting, and the Bovo raised his arms to them, which prompted the
crowd to cheer. He turned back to me with murder plain in his eyes, and
then I finally got the idea. He charged again, intent on goring me. But
the years of back-breaking labor had given me a strength to match almost any
man, and when I side stepped him the next time, I lunged in and caught him
around his waist. I lifted and squeezed, and, to my amazement, he just
passed out."
"He just.. passed out?" Cinder asked.
"Yeah... it's a neat trick. I'll show it to you some time."
"You did it on purpose?"
"Nope. Pure luck. Anyway, I went back, got the sword, and cut off
his head. The crowd was dead silent, completely stunned. I tossed down his
head and the sword, and walked back into the shade to sit, and see what
would happen next."
"So did they punish you for killing the Bovo?"
"Not at all. They thought it was great fun that a woman had survived
a fight in the arena. They gave me a small room to myself in the gladiator's
quarters. The other gladiators thought it was funny when I started trying on
armor... the whole thing was a joke to them. They stopped laughing, though,
after I killed a few of them in the arena. I kept to myself mostly, and
they learned to leave me alone, but after a while some of them actually
seemed to take a liking to me. They showed me how to fight with a sword,
where to cut to hurt, and where to cut to kill. But in the arena, there
was no mercy, and every fight was kill or be killed."
"Sounds terrible."
"Actually, it was the best time I'd ever had. Fighting in the
arena was exciting, and when I had a sword in my hand, it didn't make a
difference that I was a woman. For as long as the fight lasted, every man
had to reckon me his equal, or die swiftly. Sure, being a gladiator was
tough, but compared to where I had been, it was an improvement... not to
mention an elevation in social status. Before I'd been a nobody, just
another slave, but now I was a famous gladiator. The Gladiator Mouse-Woman."
"So what happened? Did you finally get beaten?" Merc laughed,
and shook his head.
"By that bunch? HA! Besides, if I'd lost, I wouldn't be here
today. Nobody ever walks back from the arena unless they win. No, I
didn't lose a fight in the arena..." Pip reached up and touched her
chest where her breasts used to be. She looked away. "I.. don't know that
I feel like telling this story right now." The pain on her face, the loss
of her womanhood, struck a chord with Cinder, who glanced with familiar
longing to where his own cleavage would have been, if he'd been given his
choice.
"Pip... never mind about the story. You can tell me some other
time."
"Really? Are you sure you don't mind me welching on our deal?"
"No, it's ok." Cinder assured her, looking up at the dimming sky,
"Besides, it's almost dark anyway."
"You're right, it is getting late." Merc agreed, "Let's find a
place to camp, Cindy-girl." The young ferret gave a small feminine sigh,
feeling, as always, the warmth and comfort of having Merc call him that.
They found a likely spot and set up camp, and in short order Cinder had
dinner caught and cooking.
"Is it far from here to where you were born?" Cinder asked, as
they sat down to eat.
"Not very far." Merc answered, "Vale was the nearest big city that
wasn't in K'hand, and as I recall, it was only a week's ride away."
"So we should get there the day after next?"
"Or about this time tommorrow, if we push it." Cinder looked at him
quizzically.
"Are you in a hurry, sir?" Merc loaded his plate, and sat back
before answering.
"Not really, I guess. Actually..." Pip hesitated, "I'm a little bit
nervous. I mean... what should I say to my mother, when I see her?"
"How about 'Hi, mom'?" Cinder suggested.
"Well, yeah, but I mean..." Cinder smiled.
"You're worried about how they'll react to you being... you." Pip
nodded.
"I don't know how I can possibly explain any of this to my
relatives."
"Well, if they don't like you, you can always just leave." The ferret
shrugged. "After all, that's what I did."
"True." Pip conceeded, and they continued eating in silence. When
they were done, Cinder cleaned up, and sat back down, giving a little shudder.
"Looks like it's going to be cold tonight." He noted. Merc grinned
and put one of his thick, muscular arms around his apprentice, in that way
that made Cinder feel deliciously fragile.
"Cindy, I don't think that'll be a problem."
They got a late start the next morning. After they'd been walking
a few hours, Merc could tell that Cinder was starting to get bored. Knowing
that a bored ferret was a dangerous thing, he decided to continue his story.
"Still want to hear how I got my tits lopped off?" He asked, being
deliberately coarse.
"Sure!" Cinder affirmed.
"All right... where was I?"
"In the Gladiator Pits in K'hand."
"Right. Well, I'd become the star attraction of the Arena, much to
the K'hans' amusement. It was like being the king of the slums. I was still
a slave, and I still got the same slop for dinner as everyone else... but the
other gladiators deferred to me, either out of fear of my sword, or
friendship, since by then I had made a few real friends.
"But friendship among gladiators is doomed from the start. Friends,
even lovers, could show up on the wrong side of a sword, and the K'hans gave
everyone the same, damning choice; death for one or death for both, for to
refuse to fight in the Arena meant certain execution. One by one, everyone
I knew died, many of them by my own hand. I stopped bothering to get to know
the other gladiators, knowing that it could only lead to more pain.
"I'd killed so many men that their faces blurred together in memory
into a raceless, nameless mass. In all that time, I'd forgotten about the
K'han I'd offended, but he had not forgotten about me. He came to the arena
everytime I fought, watching, hating. His punishment had been a blessing to
me, and knowing that must have been eating at him.
"I came back from the arena one day and found him waiting for me. I
knew him right away, from the scars I'd left across his face. He wasn't
alone. I still had my sword, and when they rushed me, I managed to kill two
of them, but they still took me. I was carried away, stripped to my fur, and
strapped down to a table. The one I'd scarred came in, followed by an old,
grey rabbit.
"'You are not to use anesthetic.' The scarred one said, "But you will
sterilize your blade. If she dies, so do you.' The rabbit bowed his head.
"'Yes, my lord.', he said, and then the K'han lordling left us alone.
All the rabbit said was 'I'm sorry', and then he took out his knife."
"So he cut them off?" Merc nodded, staying resolutely male.
"Yes. What choice did he have? I hated him, of course, while he was
doing it, and I called him every name I knew, but in fairness we were both
victims of the K'hans."
"So did they send you back to the arena?"
"No. I'd been fairly content there, if not happy, and that was not
what the little lord wanted. I'd left my mark on him, and he wanted to be
damn sure I never forgot it. I was sent out to the fields with the men, with
instructions that I was to do heavy labor, the worst that could be found.
They were determined to break me. One of their favorite things to do was to
put me in an ox's harness, and force me to plow fields. They whipped and
sweated me until I would give out and collapse, then they'd whip me some more,
and drag me back to my cell, where I would sleep until the next day. Then it
would start all over again. They were allowed to do anything to me they
pleased, with one exception. I was not allowed to die, under any
circumstances. My antagonist was determined: I would be broken."
"But you were just too tough for them, huh?" Merc laughed.
"Oh, the optimism of youth! No, my fair apprentice, they broke me.
They crushed me and ground me down until I was nothing more than the drey-
beast they used me as. But that was what saved me. When I struggled and
fought, I was interesting... but when I gave in, I was boring. I wasn't a
fun play-thing anymore, so they stopped tormenting me... and they got
careless. They were so sure that I didn't have even a glimmer of life left
in me that they forgot what I was capable of. One day, a K'han borrowed me
to help carry stones from the quarry to the windmill he was building... and
as soon as we were alone, I crushed him."
"C-crushed him?" Cindy asked. Merc nodded.
"Yup. Crushed him, with a big ol' slab of rock. You can't be too
squeemish, kid. You do what you have to." Merc looked up, and smiled.
"Anyway, that was that. I escaped and became the Mercenary Mouse that I am
today."
"Just like that?" Cinder asked.
"No, of course there was more to it than that... but I'm afraid I'll
have to tell you that one some other time. We're here."
"What?" Cinder looked up, and saw a tiny village spread out in a
shallow valley below them. "Already?"
"Yep. Guess it was closer than I remembered. Come on, I'll
introduce you to my folks. Oh, and I know it's a lot to ask, but could
you...?"
"Yeah, I'll put on a good show for them." Cinder agreed. Merc put
his arm around the feminine young ferret.
"Look, it's nothing against you. I just don't want to have to
explain too much at once, ok?"
"Yeah, I know." Together they went into the village.
"They seemed to have done well since I left." Merc commented,
looking around at all the prosperous villagers they passed. "'Scuse me,
sir," He flagged down a passing farmer, "Can you tell me if Kenda Skweek
lives in this village?" The elderly mouse thought for a few minutes.
"No... unless you mean old Mother Weaver. I think her name was
Skweek, before she married." The farmer gave directions, and Merc thanked
him.
"So your mom remarried, huh?" Cinder commented.
"Looks like it." Merc affirmed, "Let's go meet "dad"."
"You aren't upset about it, are you?" Cinder asked as they
headed off.
"No... Just hadn't considered the possibility, I guess."
"Well, just get used to it," Cinder advised, "Things probably
aren't going to be like you expected." Merc looked at the dwelling they'd
come to.
"That's for sure." He said, "This has to be the mayor's house."
It was the only multi-level building to be seen, and the only one that
made use of stone as a building material. "I think we have the wrong
place."
"I don't know about that... the sign here says "Weaver"... wasn't
that what they said her new name was?"
"Well..."
"Go on up and knock," Cinder suggested, "What could it hurt?"
Merc shrugged, and, conciously letting go of his persona, slipped back
into being Pip. She went up and knocked loudly on the front door. A
young mouse-woman answered.
"Yes?" She asked, then looked up.
"Kara!" Pip exclaimed.
"Merc!" Kara mirrored Pip's surprise for a moment, then punched
her unsuspecting sister in the gut.
"What could it hurt, he says." Pip coughed, and tried to keep
her breakfast down. She looked up at her sister, "I take it you're still
mad at me?"
"No, I've mostly gotten over it." Kara replied, "What the hell are
you doing here?"
"I was on my way to Vale and got nastalgic." Pip explained curtly,
standing back up.
"Thought you'd come home and inflict yourself on Mom, did you?"
"Damn it, Kara, I have a right to have a family too!"
"Not anymore you don't. I told Mom you were dead."
"What else did you tell her?"
"Just that you were dead..." Kara admitted, "I didn't say how."
"Kara?" A voice, old and female, called, "Who's there?" The door
opened wider, and an old woman stepped out. "Hello, there, young man."
She greeted Pip, who immediately slipped back into being Merc.
"Hello, Miss."
"Uh... Mother, this is Merc. He, um, was a friend of Pip's."
"Oh, really? Well, don't just stand there, girl, invite him
in! And who is this young slip?" She asked, of Cinder.
"This is my apprentice, Cinder." Merc explained, as they entered.
"Oh? You're a craftsman?" Merc smiled.
"I'm a mercenary, ma'am."
"Oh, that must be where you knew Pip from, then." She concluded,
"Kara said she was a mercenary, too."
"Yes, ma'am." Merc answered, "We... used to work together."
"Oh, really? That must be terribly exciting."
"It.. has it's moments." They entered a drawing-room, and the
matronly mouse offered them each a chair. When they were seated and
comfortable, she put her hands in her lap and gave Merc a piercing look.
"So. What brings you here?" She asked. Merc could hear suspicion
in her voice.
"No, Ma'am, I'm not here for money or anything. It was.. it was
Pip's wish that I should come and find her village, and let you know
what had become of her." He looked over to where a fuming Kara sat. "I
didn't know that Kara had already been here. I can understand that having
a mercenary in the house might make you uncomfortable. I'll leave if you
like."
"Nonsense, son," Pip's mother assured him, "I just wanted to make
sure you weren't angling for money. Ever since we found the silver mine,
people have..."
"Silver mine?" Cinder and Merc asked in unison, earning a laugh
from Mother Weaver.
"Yes. A few years after the K'hans raided us, we stumbled across
an abandoned silver mine, in one of the fields I and a couple of the boys
were ploughing. It's been nothing but blue skies ever since."
"Aren't you worried about the K'hans coming back?" Cinder asked.
"Not really. A silver mine buys a lot of protection."
"That's true." Cinder agreed.
"In fact... we might have a job for a couple of swordsmen like
yourselves. I'm sure I could put in a good word with my husband for you.
If you're interested?" Merc gave it a brief consideration.
"No, Ma'am, I'm afraid I'll have to turn you down. But thanks for
offering."
"Is it a matter of money?" Merc shook his head.
"No, Ma'am, it's.. I guess you could say it's a matter of principle.
If I took your offer... well, in a year's time, I wouldn't be myself anymore."
Merc gave Kara a sidelong look, "And I like myself the way I am."
"Well, then, at least let me offer you a room for the night. I'm
sure it's what Pip would have wanted me to do." Merc looked over to where
Kara was furiously shaking her head behind Mrs. Weaver's back, and smiled.
"We'd be honored."
Mr. Weaver, who was, in fact, the mayor, did not seem entirely
pleased to have two mercenaries lodging in his home, but he put a good face
on it, and even repeated his wife's offer of employment, which Merc again
expressed his regret at declining. Over dinner, they probed each other's
defenses.
"So, Mr... uh, Merc, is it?"
"Yes, sir. Mercenary Mouse." Merc answered. The mayor raised an
eyebrow.
"A trifle.. pretensious, don't you think?"
"Only if you can't live up to it, Mr. Mayor." Merc smiled.
It went on in such a manner, with each trading tit for tat, each
finally putting their verbal sabres to rest, Merc satisfied that his mother
had found a suitable match, and the Mayor satisfied that Merc would soon be
gone, drawn away by a shiny future just over the horizon. Kara, meanwhile,
was just barely civil to Merc, and during dinner she completely ignored him.
Instead, she struck up a conversation with Cinder, and they soon found each
other mutually agreeable. By the second course, their end of the table was
periodically erupting in gales of tittering laughter. Merc watched his young
apprentice fondly, and kept an eye on Cinder's manerisms... the last thing
he wanted, with everything else that had gone wrong, was for the ferret to
slip into his natural feminine self. However, Cinder was on his best
behavior, and dinner passed without incident.
After dinner and a few quiet hours of conversation, Mrs. Weaver
showed them to their room.
"I'm afraid we only have one guest room... you'll have to share."
"That's quite alright, Ma'am," Merc assured her, "We're used to
sharing."
"I'll bet. You really must tell me more, tommorow, about Pip. She
was taken from me so long ago... I'd like to know. You understand." Merc
nodded soberly.
"Yes, Ma'am. I understand." Mrs. Weaver smiled, and left them until
the morning.
"Well, sir, how are you liking your little reunion?" Cinder asked.
"You were right," Merc acknowledged, "It's not what I'd expected.
Now com'ere." He sat down on the bed and began stripping off his armor, "You
did good today... and it's high time you got what you deserve."
"You're a late sleeper, for a mercenary." Mrs. Weaver commented
when they finally made their appearance the next morning.
"Don't get to sleep in often, ma'am, so I take advantage of it when
I can." Merc replied.
"Well, you missed eating breakfast with Kara and Tim, but I'm sure
I could scrounge up something for the two of you. Sit." She commanded,
and set about gathering up left-overs. She set the morning meal before
them, and sat down across from Merc while they ate. She watched them
patiently, but Merc could tell she was anxious to hear about her daughter's
exploits.
"Did Kara tell you about the time we got ambushed in Caldera?"
"No, she didn't say much about anything when she got home...
except that Pip died. She... wouldn't say how." Merc nodded.
"I understand. It's a hard thing, to lose a sister."
"No harder than to lose a daughter." Mrs. Weaver countered, sadly.
"Would you like to hear about the ambush?" Merc offered. The
elder mouse nodded. "We were on our way from where we'd rescued Kara
to Caldera, where we hoped to find employment. We hadn't figured out
what to do with her, since she obviously wasn't cut out to be Mercenary
material... but we figured we'd work something out. Anyway, we got jumped
in the woods. I was a little slow, but Pip was right on top of things
immediately. She had her sword out and was defending Kara before I could
blink. But she just wasn't strong enough to fight them off, so I jumped
in, and together we were holding our own. But what really saved the day
was Kara, who saw the bastard who was sneaking up on me, and clobbered
him with a tree limb..." Merc went on in the same fashion, describing his
lifetime of adventures with Pip, editing his actions depending on who was
dominant at the time. To his surprise, he found that it was easy; Every
action he/she took was clearly defined by the active persona, and the two
switched often enough to make it seem an equal partnership.
"Thank you, Merc," Mrs. Weaver sighed appreciatively when he'd
exhausted every tale of heroism he could think of, "But I would still
like to know: How did my daughter die?" Merc hung his head.
"It... It was my fault, ma'am." He admitted, "I wasn't there when
she needed me. We'd just sortof... drifted apart, and one day, she went
her own way. I tried to follow but... it was too late." It was so close
to truth, Merc found himself having a hard time holding on to himself.
He felt moisture on his cheeks, and knew he'd lost this particular battle.
With a choked sob, Pip began to cry.
"Merc, I... I'm sorry." Mrs. Weaver apologized, "I didn't realize
that you two were so close... I shouldn't have forced you to open old
wounds." Pip gradually got herself under control, and forced herself back
into maleness.
"It's alright," He finally got around to saying, "I.. don't usually
suffer such outbursts." He heard a sniffling beside him, and they turned to
see Cinder sitting their dabbing his eyes with a kerchief. He saw them
and smiled wanly.
"I'd offer you my hanky, but I'm afraid it's all wet." He
apologized, "I, for one, AM prone to such outbursts." Merc chuckled, then
guffawed, which set Mrs. Weaver to giggling, and soon they were all
laughing together. Kara came in, and took in the scene. They all fell
silent, and looked at her. She looked from Cinder's tear streaked face,
to Mrs. Weaver, who was rose-cheeked from her laughter.
"You know what? I don't think I want to know." She turned and
left, followed by the sounds of giggles and deep, masculine laughter.
"Thank you, Merc." Mrs. Weaver said as she stood on the porch to
see them off. "You've settled my daughter's soul."
"If any soul ever deserved it, it was hers." Merc replied, "Thank
you for your hospitality, ma'am." Mrs. Weaver smiled.
"As close as you were to my daughter? Please, Merc, call me
Mother. I can think of no mouse I'd rather call son." Merc stood there,
stunned, as she bent down and kissed him on the cheek.
"Come back and see us again... Brother." Kara added, with a glint
of mischief in her eye.
"Yes, any time." Mrs. Weaver concurred, "You may consider this your
home, as much as it would have been Pip's. If you ever need a place to
rest, please think of us."
"I.. I'll do that." Merc stammered as he and Cinder turned to
leave.
"Well," Cinder began, after a few hours of walking in silence,
"How does it feel to have a family." They continued walking for several
minutes before Merc responded.
"It's... strange. I feel closer to Pip than I have in years. I
feel somehow more.. whole." Cinder looked over to his mentor wryly.
"How does it feel to have a place to call home?" Merc smiled.
"Home? Home is where it's always been... just over that next
hill."
(
geocities.com/timessquare)