After the Wilderness
By Gordon Kearns
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Chapter 15
The theater in the round is located in an uncomplicated corrugated structure a few hundred feet' from the lodge, along the road leading to the woodland area of rustic hillside cabins. The building itself is rectangular, but true to its name the inside is arranged in a circular fashion, centering on a small round platform perhaps ten feet in diameter rising some three feet off the floor. This stage is surrounded by rows of basic wooden benches -- sanded clear of splinters, for obvious reasons --and backless --which seat at capacity three hundred people. The squared outside corners resulting from the circular arrangement are utilized for a large uni-sex restroom, refreshment stand, and "backstage" facilities. Mostly the theater is used for concerts, visiting entertainers, home-made dramatics, and on cold or wet Sunday mornings: chapel.
At three fifty-five that Tuesday afternoon the benches were almost fully occupied. As Phil Wagonner fulfilled his task of spreading the word about the meeting, he diplomatically concluded that ALL the guests were either close friends or regulars. Darren Bollinger and Sean Flanery engaged in friendly conversation on the stage as the crowd filed in. Phil had made sure a microphone was ready for their use. Patty sat near the front with the Chapmans. Marianne and Patrick found seats in the last row of benches. With the exception of Darren and Sean and possibly six others scattered through the audience, it was a nude group.
Rachel entered and headed straight for the stage. "Darren," she said as softly as possible. "I think we should talk about this first."
Darren laughed. "Not enough time, Rachel. But not to worry; you'll be pleased with what comes out this afternoon. Just know this whole thing is for you."
Rachel: "That's what I'm afraid of." But he had already returned his attention to Mr. Flanery. Rachel walked to the rear and sat by Marianne and Patrick.
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After a couple weak opening jokes and the introduction of the famous businessman, Darren jumped right into the big topic. "Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Flanery and I have just completed negotiations for the sale of Bollinger's Resort to Flanery Enterprises. At this moment the papers are being drawn up by our lawyers. On Monday morning at nine sharp, our signatures will finalize the deal. A deal, by the way, which will benefit both sides equally." He paused as the audience built up a drone of conversation over the surprise announcement. When the buzz settled down somewhat, Darren continued: "There are a few details I think you should be aware of, and which should please you. Of the most interest to you, our loyal friends, it will be written into the deed that the resort will always be a nudist facility. Mr. Flanery was most agreeable to that point."
Everybody cheered. "Next, on a more personal note: Mr. Flanery agreed to allow my father, Jack Bollinger, to continue living rent free in the cabin he has called home these many years. It wouldn't be the same place without the grand old man of Bollinger's, would it?" More cheers. Jack Bollinger was dear to the hearts of everyone in the room. "For us, Rachel and me, with the proceeds from the sale of the resort, together with the financial assistance of the Flanery organization, we will be taking ownership of a Flanery franchise, The Tyrol, a major ski resort near Steamboat Springs, Colorado, with an established clientele; complete facilities --lodge, chalets, restaurant; and our own mountain --lifts, ski trails, and all. Oh, and it has a summer season with horses, tennis courts, and championship golf course.
"Mr. Flanery will be saying a few words in a minute or so about his intentions here. But before he does, I do want to express my deepest appreciation to all of you who have supported us --and been our friends -- through thick and thin for these many years. I don't suppose it comes as a shock to you that we're getting out of our family tradition business. The horrible events of that past several days were almost unbearable. I can't be sure that our Rachel is yet out of the woods from those who would have done her harm. As long as she would remain here, the aura of that 'magic' reputation would ever surround her. It was absolutely necessary to erase the image of the 'Naked Red-headed Heroine of Atlanta,' which would forever invite some fanatic to come after her again. As much as we love this work, as much as it has been a part of our life, for the welfare of my wife we had to get out of the nudist business, which would also always be a reminder of that image.
"So we're leaving all this behind, sadly. You can't get much further from a nudist resort than a ski resort. But please know: we will ever love you, our friends. And please, if you get close to Steamboat Springs some day --and --ha, ha --you have your clothes on --it's cold there, you know, please stop by to see us. We'll never be too busy for our friends." Applause.
"And now, I'm sure you're tired of listening to my dull voice, so please allow me to introduce the new owner of Bollinger's Resort, Mr. Sean Flanery."
Sean stepped to the microphone, a congenial smile gracing his face. "There's not much to say, except to reassure you we will do our very best to continue the friendly and caring traditions you are used to from this great resort. And I want to assure all the employees here: no one will be laid off or suffer because of the change of ownership." A pause for a breath. "Inn-keeping is not new to Flanery Enterprises; through our franchises we're involved with several resorts across the country, The Tyrol being one of our best. With the acquisition of Bollinger's, however, we step into two new directions. To begin with, Bollinger's will not be run as a franchise; Bollinger's will be a direct ownership operation for us, our first such in the area of resorts. Second ...well, we've never been engaged in the nudism industry before. This, too, will be an ...interesting departure for us. But my daughter Marianne will be heading up this new field of direct ownership of resorts. And as most of you know, Marianne is not a stranger to nudism. I understand, she is a ...legend, so to speak, around here. It will be her responsibility to learn first hand the challenges of running a resort, and use that knowledge to lead our expansion into more ventures of this sort."
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There were few questions. The assurances things would be pretty much the same as before seemed to satisfy most. Those close to the family were shocked, of course --though, again, not unhappy with the new ownership. The question on most of their minds was, "What's going to happen with Rachel?"
A small group lingered at the stage. In the last row Rachel, Marianne, and Patrick remained where they were. Marianne was holding Rachel's hand. "Just wait till those people get out of the way up there," Marianne said. "I'm really going to give my good father hell... that he would dare to make decisions involving me without consulting me first." A beat. "I understand what he's doing, don't get me wrong. Just putting me on ice for a while --until the name Marianne Flanery isn't a burning issue. Our ordinary contacts are going to feel awkward in my presence for some time to come. This way I'm involved in an activity where my reputation for flagrant nakedness isn't considered a negative. At the same time the Enterprises will be getting some valuable experience in what will probably develop into an important aspect of the company's operation." She laughed. "I'll do it all right -- actually works out quite good --gives me more opportunities to be with Patrick." She winked conspiratorially at him. "But I'll bitch all the same ... make my father feel guilty ...get me some good concessions from the old boy." Then she turned to Rachel, who was smiling. "But my part in all this isn't important. What about you? This must be crushing for you."
"Darren didn't talk to me first, either," she said, then chuckled and added, "But he never does." A beat. "Don't worry about me, I'm all right. I ...know what I have to do."
Marianne: "The 'concession bit' usually works pretty good for me. Maybe if you ..."
Rachel: "Darren would never understand he did anything wrong. But I am going to talk to him. I... I'm not looking forward to it --but it has to be."
The two principals in the business deal were still occupied at the stage.
Rachel: "Do I take it from what you said that you and Patrick ..."
Marianne: "We are. I've ...grown, Rachel. More in the past few days than all my life before, I think. Oh, I'm still holding on to my career ... I'll follow through with this new development like a true 'rising young woman executive.' But no more 'one way or the other' for me. I'm going to be with my Patrick every chance I get. And I'm going to love calling a nudist resort my base of operations."
The last of the tarriers turned from the stage, leaving Marianne's father and Rachel's husband alone. "Here's my chance," Marianne said to Rachel. She went storming down the aisle. "What do you mean, MR. FLANERY, making decisions that involve me without discussing them with me first!"
When Marianne left the bench, Rachel said mostly to herself, "I've grown, too."
Darren stepped off the stage and prudently slipped away from the fire-breathing woman hell-bent for patricide. He strolled quietly back to where his wife was sitting serenely waiting for him. Patrick gave her a "Thumbs-up" signal, then moved closer to where Marianne was holding forth against Sean Flanery.
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"Well, the deed is done, as they say," Darren said. "Isn't it something! I get chills thinking about it. Boy, what a challenge! Can you imagine, a ski resort? We'll have to take a crash course. From nudists to skiers; now, that's something. I can hardly wait till Monday for the 'signing.' Sean's going to send his helicopter for us about nine in the morning. We'll do the signatures up real formally in his lawyers' offices. No news people, though; they'd play up you and that ...crusade ...stuff yesterday. Still, we do want to make a good impression. The bruises on your face are healing good now; they'll probably be all gone by Monday --and we'll go into Bakersfield Friday to get you a new outfit ...a prim, conservative suit, I think ...and a hair styling --a whole new image for you. Which reminds me, we'd better call for an appointment, don't you think?"
"Friday?" Rachel interrupted. "Oh, I don't think I can, Darren. Or Monday either ...that 'signing' thing; I won't be able to be there."
Darren: "I... you have to ...I mean, this is a family effort ...we have to show unity. It's important for you to be at my side ..."
Rachel: "I... I understand that ...but I simply can't be there."
Darren: "For God's sake, now what's this all about?
Rachel: "What I told you ...Sunday --before Patty and I... Anyway, I'm going back to Denise and Jeffrey for a little while. Oh, I'll stay around through Thanksgiving, of course. I wouldn't miss Thanksgiving dinner here with Jack and all our friends. But the first thing Friday morning I'm heading back."
Darren: "Denise and ...Why, for heaven's sake?"
Rachel, still smiling: "For my 'education.' I only came back when the crusade was getting out of hand and I thought Patty would be in danger. But there's still so much more ...about the wave, my ancestors, surviving in the forest, and ...well, helpful hints --all the things I missed growing up not knowing who ...what I am."
Darren: "But ...but what in the world do you need with all that? This is your world --and now, The Tyrol; that's reality."
Rachel: "Darren, you don't understand. I've had a door suddenly opened for me, with all sorts of amazing things on the other side --all sorts of possibilities. I can't turn my back on all that."
Darren: "And you were almost burned at the stake. That kind of 'amazing thing' you could have done without."
Rachel sighed and looked away.
Darren: "The Tyrol is a new door ...with a lot more promising 'possibilities' than your ...pointless wave. You'd want to live on fruits and nuts in a forest when you could be the lead executive of a major league ski resort? Come on, Rachel, you're more responsible than that."
Rachel: "I don't know if I want to live in a forest. But I'd like to learn about it, because of my heritage ..."
Darren: "My heritage is from Teutonic tribes who used to roam around Europe bashing peoples' brains out. But you don't see me wearing a horned hat and wanting to learn how to swing a battle ax."
Rachel: "At least you know what it is you don't want. Look, I've just discovered I've come from a unique race with a whole different culture, a culture that seems to fit pieces in my own life that I've felt missing from as far back as I can remember. And this wave; gosh, Darren, if you only knew what a thrill it is. That girl, Dawna, I took her for a ride in my wave a little while ago, and it was the experience of a lifetime for her."
Darren: "You took a guest ...a child ...in this unreliable ...See what I mean; you're just not ...disciplined enough to be flying around in that scary thing. Things will happen to you. Somebody will catch you again and ...have your head."
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Rachel: "But that's where Denise and Jeffrey can help. They can show me ..."
Darren: "But they can't follow you all over to keep you from getting in trouble." A beat. "Wait! I just happened to think ...I was half asleep, but last night when you came to bed, did you say you went to Mars? That was only a joke, wasn't it? Or I was dreaming?"
Rachel, giggling: "No, Darren. That was for real. Patty and I zipped up to Mars and stood right on the surface --the first persons from Earth to set foot on a different planet. Patty even wrote our names in the dust to prove it."
Darren: "Jesus!" He shook his head. "That's what I mean. You could've gotten yourselves killed." Taking her hands in his, "Rachel, I love you more than any man has ever loved any woman in the history of mankind. I want to give you the world. My promise to you hasn't changed. In a few years I want you the top boss at The Tyrol --successful, financially comfortable, secure ...and safe ...where I'm in a position to protect you, to help you if you're in trouble, if you have a problem. I can't do that if you're off a million miles away where you could be killed in a second, or maybe in the hands of some angry mob like yesterday."
It was quiet in the auditorium for almost a minute, as Darren waited for Rachel's response. As the tone of the discussion had intensified, Marianne and Sean Flanery fell silent, as if the extraneous sound of their voices would intrude upon the rapidly approaching inevitable climax of the personal drama being played out at the back of the theater.
Finally, Rachel spoke --softly; calmly: "Up on that stage before, when you talked about getting me away from my image as the 'Naked Red-headed Heroine of Atlanta' --The Tyrol does that for you. And more, it gets me away from the identification with a nudist resort --away from living bare-ass, because living bare-ass identifies me even more with the naked heroine; but mostly my being bare-ass makes it too easy for me to be tempted into the wave. The wave makes it impossible for you to come to my aid. That's what it's all about --exactly as you said, you want me where you're in a position to help me." A beat. "That's how it's always been with you, Darren. You're a kind, good man. You would never turn your back on me if I needed help ...or anybody else, for that matter."
Rachel shifted, now straddling the bench and facing her husband. He turned slightly in place in response. Rachel continued: "Your way of helping a person with a problem is to change the person ...or remove the person from the circumstances of the problem --you don't allow yourself to to be caught up in those circumstances. You don't want involvement for yourself; your need is to be in control."
Darren: "Is there any other reasonable way?"
Rachel: "Sister Daniella and Chuck Wohl committed themselves to dealing with the circumstances head on."
Darren: "And they're both in the hospital now. They could just as easily have been killed, and not have saved you and Patty in the process. In fact, Chuck's effort was senseless."
Rachel smiled. "But he tried," she said almost to herself.
Another pause; then Rachel again: "If you wouldn't have sold Bollinger's, I'd have stayed with you. I'd have gone to school --in my own fashion. I'd have continued to work side by side with you. I'd have still gone with Denise and Jeffrey, but I wouldn't have taken to living among the trees. I'd have come back to you. I'd have devoted the rest of my life to my husband and our business together." She looked deeply into his eyes. "I still would if you changed your mind --if you didn't go to The Tyrol. But as it is, I'm not going with you."
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Darren: "But Rachel --your responsibility; your place ...We talked about this before: your place is with me --we agreed ...you belong at my side ...where I can take care of you."
Rachel: "I said, if the time ever came that we'd be getting out of the nudism business, I'd think about it. But the bare-ass life is important to me, you know that; and it's important to my new ...self; I'm not going to give that up, either. The magic is good; the magic is exciting; the magic is what I am. And if I get killed walking in the dust of some miserable planet, or if another Goodman Gillette wants to burn the skin from my bones, or if some dumb hunter shoots me, then I'll dissolve into the organism of the universe --as it is with my people when we die - and that will be that. But I'm not going to turn my back on the magic. I will be what I am." A beat. "I love you, Darren. I'll give you what you let me give you. If you can't see your way to stay here at Bollinger's ...okay, then I'll come to your bedside at The Tyrol in the middle of the night, if you want me, and make wild passionate love to you ...or check over your books or fix the glitch in the computer, if you'd prefer ...or take you for a ride in my wave if you'd like."
Another dark stillness. It was Darren's turn to sigh. "So," he said with some resignation. He rose and adjusted his suitcoat to his shoulders. Then he bent down and cupped Rachel's face in his hands and kissed her on the lips. "You're right, Rachel: I do have to be in control; that's what I am. I can't live with the uncertainty of your magic, nor the uncertainties I'd have to face trying to maintain your well-being as one of those naked children in the forest. I can't stay here under such conditions." A beat. "I'm going to go through with the deal. I have to have control over something. This is a step up for me. I wish it were for both of us --God, it would be fantastic for us --but I can see you will be what you are ...and I will be what I am." He kissed her again and left the building.
Marianne moved up the aisle, straddled the bench behind Rachel, and wrapped the naked red-headed heroine of Atlanta tightly in her arms. Sean and Patrick went on to wait outside the building.
Rachel wasn't crying. She sat motionless in Marianne's warmth. No words were spoken for five minutes, although undisciplined thoughts ran wildly through both women's brains. At last Rachel moved slightly, taking hold of Marianne's hands at her shoulders. "Marianne?"
"Uh-huh?"
"Could you use an experienced desk clerk?"
Marianne laughed. "Desk clerk, nonsense. Manager. Rachel would you be my manager? No, scratch that. Would you be my equal partner and teach me how to run a place like this?"
Then Rachel did cry.
After seeing Sean Flanery off in the helicopter, Darren returned to the lobby desk, gathered some papers in his briefcase, and departed the resort in his automobile. He left word with Phil Wagonner that he had to attend to some business over in Fresno. He would return Thursday in time for Thanksgiving dinner.
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Darren Bollinger was not an insensitive clod. True, he would not renege on his agreement with Flanery Enterprises. The decision had been made, and it was just as valid whether his Rachel accompanied him or not. It was the proper move to make. It was the kind of move he'd wanted to make for a long time. It was, in fact, better than anything he could have hoped. The arrangement the Harper chain discussed with him wasn't even close. Tying the sale of Bollinger's in with financial help to purchase the ski resort franchise represented the opportunity to move ahead in the world, an opportunity unavailable as long as he was bound to the nudist trade. So Darren would move on, no matter what.
However, Rachel's refusal to join him was a crushing development, and he would need time by himself to sort this turn of events out. There was no business to attend to in Fresno. There was only a motel room to sleep in and some nice parks to roam around in as he pulled himself together. But Darren Bollinger was a man of driving ambition and strong, decisive character. He would have his directions in order by the time he returned to the resort.
It turned out to be a fun evening at Bollinger's Resort. The square dance in the gymnasium at the other end of the annex hall ran deep into the night. It was an unusually subdued Jack Bollinger who began the calling, but when Marianne Flanery entered the hall and took center floor in a raucous burlesque of an imaginary whole square of eight, the activity warmed up considerably. The "old Marianne" was up to her "old tricks." Jack set aside his gloom to join in the spirit with absurd calls, which Marianne equally absurdly carried out to the letter. Even Mrs. Chapman found herself happily adjusted to a room filled with laughing nudists.
Rachel had volunteered for desk duty so that Phil Wagonner could keep his date with Patty. The young girl thoroughly enjoyed her first "official" boy-girl date. Late in the evening, when Phil escorted Patty to her room door, she accepted a demure kiss on the lips. Recent experiences had made her wary of human young men. She would have to be surer of her prospective beau before committing more of herself to the relationship. But the kiss was nice. She looked forward to more evenings like this.
Rachel appreciated the opportunity to be away from the crowd for a few hours; she needed some quality introspection time. The worst was over; she had told Darren her resolve. She knew how it would turn out --she knew Darren. At dinner she had sat with Marianne, Jack, and the Crespys. She made no secret of the "parting." The sooner it was out in the open, the sooner she could get into her new life. Still, desk duty served to calm her roiled emotions. However, in short order she began involuntarily moving her feet in time to the music drifting down the hall from the gymnasium.
After her goodnight kiss, Patty stepped inside her room and closed the door behind her. Marianne wouldn't be here for awhile. For a long while, Patty thought impishly. And I bet "more than once" tonight, too. When she was sure that Phil was out of sight, she zipped down to the lobby and bodied-out alongside Rachel, who had been passing her time juggling beanbags. Patty's sudden appearance startled her enough to send the beanbags flying in all directions. Laughing freely, the girls quickly rounded them up and replaced them in the drawer. After a few words together, Rachel set the "night sign" on the counter; and the two of them were off. Phil, temporarily staying in the Bollinger's apartment, would respond to any emergencies.
Patty and Rachel kicked around in the surf at their favorite beach, laughing with abandon in the spirit of the frisky, rumbling, rolling ocean. After a bit, Rachel strolled back to the dry sand and lay down on her back, her hands behind her head. Patty followed and knelt at her side, studying her friend's body. Lovingly, without preamble, she reached across and laid her hand on Rachel's left breast, nesting the nipple between her middle fingers.
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A beat. Then Rachel grinned softly and just perceptibly nodded her head. Leaning forward, Patty kissed her. Their lips were open, and their tongues met in a lascivious pas de deux. They didn't return to the resort until sunrise.
Except for the absence of Darren, life at Bollinger's returned to normal on Wednesday. Horseback riding, pine-cone crafting, swimming, tennis, fishing, and the always volleyball. Rachel, Patty, and Marianne were wide awake and active easily by lunchtime. Jack, now and then showing signs of his normal loquacious self, tended the desk. Marianne and Patty organized a series of nonsense games --three legged races, water-balloon tossing ...that sort of thing. Afterwards, Rachel gathered the younger children together at the Chapel in the Woods, where she gave an astounding magic performance featuring disappearing colored sponge balls, a cane that changed to silk kerchiefs, and water-filled glasses that changed to bouquets of feathers --and the trick that delighted them most: drawing coins from the boys' penises and girls' vaginas. And before the Chapmans left, Rachel met her friend Dawna and treated her to a sixty minute trip around the world in her wave.
Patty and Marianne had a late afternoon snack and departed for Santa Barbara in Marianne's car. "What a horse and buggy way to travel," Patty said in mock smugness as they drove away.
That evening the employees and guests participated in a nostalgic sing-along in the lobby, with Marnie Schulman at the piano. Later, after all had drifted to their own rooms, Rachel curled up on a couch, where she slept through the night.
Thursday morning, Darren returned to the resort before noon and helped rearrange the dining room for Thanksgiving dinner, scheduled to be served at 2 p.m. He was warm and congenial to everybody, and especially Rachel, whom he treated with tender regard. He was dressed, and would remain so in public for the remainder of his stay. Actually, he cut a dapper figure --beige slacks, brown and rust argyle sweater, and red-brown loafers.
The tables in the dining room were drawn together to provide for large family or friendship clusters. The kitchen staff appreciated the opportunity to show off its culinary artistry on this special occasion: turkey or ham, a great chef's salad, mashed potatoes and brown gravy, candied yams, cranberry sauce, green beans, cauliflower, broccoli, tiny peas, hot rolls, and pumpkin pie with real whipped cream or hot apple pie and cinnamon ice cream -- introduced with made-from-scratch bourbon eggnog or sherry, and finished off with smooth brandy. For all courses, there were, as you would expect, tasty accoutrements far too numerous to mention. A right decent meal.
All the old bunch was on hand and sitting at the same table grouping. The Macleans, the Schulmans, the Crespys, Ernest Bergen, Phil Wagonner, and Jack, Darren, and Rachel Bollinger. The conversation was generally neutral -- the great food, the weather, etc.; and later they did step cautiously into Darren's challenging new situation at The Tyrol. When Rachel joined in the discussion of the opportunities offered by a ski resort, tension eased considerably. No mention was made of the events of the previous weekend and Monday; and while there was a general underlying discomfort over the altered relationship between Rachel and Darren, there was a tacit appreciation of the significance of this particular Thanksgiving day.
After the dinner, people just meandered around the grounds in small groups. A talented three piece nude combo --Jennie, Jerry, and Johnny, from Bernard Station --would provide dance music for a party in the gymnasium starting at seven thirty. For now, in the late afternoon serenity of the lake resort, Jack stood on the screened-in porch watching Darren and Rachel stroll
hand in hand along the lawn at the water's edge.
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"It's not going to be easy without you, Red," Darren was saying. Rachel mused about Darren's use of the nickname. Until this moment, he had never referred to her other than by her given name.
"Me, too: you,"
Darren: "I'm really happy for you ...full partnership with Marianne Flanery is a good deal."
Rachel: "I know. I don't know if I can cut it, though."
Darren smiled: "You'll do fine."
Rachel: "Oh?"
They stopped to watch a naked elderly couple aimlessly rowing their boat about the lake.
Darren: "I guess we'd better make it official, don't you think?"
Rachel: "Official?"
Darren: "The separation ...your position here; my operation in Colorado. Besides, you should get something out of the sale."
Rachel: "Oh ...I don't want anything ...don't need much." She chuckled. "I'm going to be part-time ...naked child in the forest, you know."
Darren: "Still "
Rachel sighed. "Sure ...I suppose a legal separation is ...for the best.
Darren: "You want our lawyer? ...Okay by me. I'll get somebody else."
Rachel: "I don't need ...Sure, go ahead ...whatever arrangements you want to make." A beat. "I trust you, Darren."
A flicker intruded on the conversation --perhaps the conversation welcomed the respite.
Rachel stepped in front of Darren and put her hands lightly on his forearms. "What about my offer?"
Darren: "Your offer?"
She smiled coyly. "Midnight sessions of wild, passionate love ...or whatever."
Darren: "God, Red, I'd ..." He sighed. "I can't ...handle that kind of relationship. I... I have to ..."
Rachel touched a finger to his lips. "Shh ...that's all right, I understand." A beat. "You going to the party tonight?"
Darren pretended to look at his watch. "No, can't make it ...fact is, I should already be on my way back to Fresno ...You heading up to the lodge?"
Rachel: "No ...it's kind of nice out here --the lake and all." A beat. "Good-bye, Darren."
They stood as they were for a moment more. Then they both dropped their hands to their sides, and Darren turned and walked away.
Jack Bollinger noted how sharp his son looked in his beige, brown, and rust motif as he strode up the lawn --and how pretty the bare-assed Rachel looked as she stood by the lake. A wave of sadness engulfed Jack's gentle soul.
Rachel looked toward the lodge and saw Jack standing on the porch. In an instant she was at his side.
"This new trick of yours, it's going to take some getting used to," he said with a chuckle.
Rachel: "A lot of things happen fast around here."
Jack: "Is it all over?"
Rachel: "It's all over."
Jack: "It's going to be hard for me without my favorite son to nag."
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Rachel: "It's going to be hard for me without your favorite son."
He put his arm about her shoulder. "You going to be okay?"
Rachel: "Sure." She sighed. "The days keep rolling past ...I have to move right along with them. I'll miss Darren ...but I can ...reach out now --you know what I mean."
Jack: "I know."
Rachel: "I'm going to meet Denise and Jeffrey now. I was going to wait until tomorrow, but I've got a life to get on with. I'll be back in a week or so, I guess."
Jack: "I... I'm glad for you Rachel."
Rachel, laughing brightly: "Then kiss me, pop, slap me on my bare ass, and send me on my way."
Jack, joining in the spirit: "Gladly." He kissed her sweetly on the cheek and patted her rump --and she disappeared. "See you later, Red," he said to the empty space where she had been standing.
Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18
To Homepage and Table of Contents: The Universe in 700 Words or so
After the Wilderness - Copyright 1990 by Gordon Kearns