To Forsake a Friend is to Forsake Yourself

To Forsake a Friend is to Forsake Yourself
Fear is hatred's anguished lover jealousy it's handy man
Lost are loving gentle souls when dedication plays pretend

Charles Samuels sat on a empty wooden barrel staring at the dirt beneath his feet while his father stood in front of him.  "I have more information now than I did before at least.  Whether it will be enough to put an end to this sort of business from pushing through here again or not will all depend on the facts of the matter."  Charles was listening enough to hear what his father was saying but not enough to care too much about what was being said.  His father Earl went on to say, "Mayor Schnof in Hovington sent word back to Thatcher today with his details about their visit.  Apparently Longfellow and associates weren't nearly as noisy in Hovington as they were here."  Simon Grouse and his brother Paul stood along the wall listening intently to what the mayor was saying.  Howard Langston, his brother Harold, and their father Josten were seated at a table where a small lamp sat in the center illuminating the small underground safe room between Packmier's grocery store and Charles' car livery.  The eldest Langston, Josten, spoke up, "we should have word from Pembrook by tomorrow."  Howard looked at his father, "we know all we need to know.  Longfellow isn't going to change his mind or his position if he already has the deeds in his possession.  Whatever he did to acquire them is as history as yesterday's wash water." 
Harold asked, "did Mr. Schnof say whether or not the deeds were legitimately named?"
"They were" Charles answered for his father.  "Said they were changed two months ago by the same fellow who changed the others last August."
"Gaston LaFeu?"  Harold questioned.
"Mr. LaFeu it was."  Charles answered.
"All of them notarized out of town like the others?"  Howard wanted to know.
"The exact same notary, the exact same witnesses."  Thomas stared at his father.  "You should have listened to me then.  I told you last year when they were first through here something wasn't right." 
"I did listen to you.  But the families he acquired them from are still no where to be found and without them we have no way of proving or disproving he obtained them illegally."
"His brother's bank is in Pembrook" Howard spoke up to that.  "How can there be no record of them?"
"Maybe that's what they were dredging the river for."  Harold made the off color comment.  "Great" said Howard "missing women will be floating up on our river bank."
"Howard!"  Josten scolded his son.  "That's enough."
"We're missing something more than just how he obtained those deeds in Hovington."  Earl Samuels spoke up, "we're missing the families.  Now the lands have been there for a hundred years or more belonging to the same families.  The families either didn't live on them or a few of them did while the others lived in Pembrook and Bridge Port.  That's where we need the information from, and that's what will be required.  Finding the families that we do know have legitimate claims.   LaFeu was too confident about his acquisitions for his brother not to know that he was in possession of them and to top all of that his brother doesn't have them listed at all in his directory of properties.  Which says to me he either refused to accept them as acquisitions or he has his brother filing them through Longfellow's banks and real estate companies to keep his name and banks out of the spotlight of any inquiry that could be made.  Either which way we're now looking at Mr. Longfellow as our primary culprit in buying these lands that were, for all intents and purposes, illegally coerced from these families.  Josten, have you heard from the Weston's yet?"
"Not as of yet no."  Simon answered before Mr. Langston could.  "But Bryce is minding the office tonight inside.  He said he would let us know if anything came through that we needed."
"What about the old Mancini's place?  Any one been there to check on things yet?  It is the most strategic part of the river since the fork is there."  Charles asked his father with a forboding tone of voice. 
Earl looked at his son rather stubbornly to speak.  "We have people there watching the place day and night.  We have for weeks."
"More like years" Charles wasn't as accepting of the answer as some would think he should be. 
"I'll not have you underminding what we're trying to do now, Charles."  Earl warned in no uncertain term.  "That outburst of yours today in the meeting was enough."
"He knows father" Charles sneered huffing loud enough to show his disapproval of his father's statement.  "A man like that don't make a move like this one without knowing everyone he has to go through to make it.  My question is why you or her own family don't bother telling her about it after all of these years."
"She has a home.  She has a family.  Her past is not dependant on who she is now."
"Spoken like a man who has plans of his own for that property."  Charles quipped.
"Charles" Simon looked at his friend and shook his head no.  Charles ignored his friends advice all together.  "I just think it's pretty self righteous of my own father to pretend like she's better off not knowing the truth about herself than she would be if him and the rest of our senior councilmen were willing to tell the truth of the matter."  Josten Langston himself was now showing his discomfort with Charles' insinuations.  "We have told the truth about the matter.  We don't know for sure that she is a Mancini."
"But every one who knew them comments on how much she looks like them.  The older she got the more they talked."  Simon interjected.  "Even my own mother."  
"When we pulled her out of that rubble she was no more than a baby.  There's no telling how many of those children were Mancini's or Grimsley's or Stovers.  The entire area was leveled.  Every one destroyed except her.  Eleven houses, three families and one" Josten held up his finger, "one baby out of fifty two people survived that massacare.  If we knew for sure which family was hers we would tell her."
"Then the one should be entitled to at least one claim of it for herself."  Charles plowed Mr. Langston's statement. 
"Charles, please" his father encouraged him to calm himself.  "I know you have very mixed emotions right now but arguing a past that isn't a present priority isn't the way to settle anything.  We're trying to prevent something like that from happening again.  Not to encourage dissent among ourselves."
Harold Josten then spoke to add his own sentiments to the conversation around him."Is it just me or weren't you the one ridiculing her today in front of everyone, Charles?  We all know Penelope.  We all get along with her just the way she is.  You didn't have to throw off on her that way." Charles stood up from his barrel and walked over to the table where the Langstons were seated.  "But Madison Longfellow and Gaston LaFeu don't know her and they had people inside that meeting today themselves.  Inside, outside, we saw them in the foyer when we were leaving" Charles pointed to Howard.  "Didn't we?  Whose to say what those gents actually know.  Maybe they knew the last group of murderous thieves that came through here when we were all just children.  Or better yet, maybe they're their kin folk.  Maybe they themselves are looking for survivors for different reasons other than our own.  We want to help her and the other families; protect them and our own lives.  But those two could be looking for survivors with a claim for a different reason.  If we call her a Lochlan they're thinking Lochlan.  That's a name in these parts, has been for years."
"All the more reason for you to keep your mouth shut in their company."  Earl Samuels spoke plainly. 
"Or all the more reason to let them know we know every individual in our county and we want them to know that we know them!  You know they were there yesterday.  You know that Madison Longfellow spoke to her."
"But she didn't speak to him!"  His father was growing all the less patient having to continuely explain himself.  "She said as much today while giving her statement."
"Ah yes true, but the people inside that room today heard her.  Every dirty rotten eaves dropping son of a goat of them.  Now do you think they just let all of that stay there in city hall when they left.  Or do you think they all made it one of their first priorties to make sure Mr. LaFeu and Mr. Longfellow knew some woman, by the name of Penelope Lochlan, who looked like a man from that distance wouldn't speak to him yesterday.  Tell me, father, how many people do you know of here in Riverton fit that description.  Please, Howard, or maybe even you Simon, how many people who live along the river there did he stop and talk to yesterday that would match Penelope's testimony today?  Hum?  Any of you?"
"You wanted him to know that she was a woman."  Josten Langston concluded.
"Exactly!  The Longfellows and the LaFeus have been hovering around here for months.  They were watching every movement we made before they introduced themselves.  Which means they probably had their men up and along the river from here to Hovington watching as well.  If they thought she was a man I wanted them to know different so they would know we knew that they had been here circling like a pack of vultures over our lands.  What you don't tell them will be seen as something to figure into their plans.  If we tell them everything then they know we're just as easily organized and as aware of their movements as they are ours.  You might think that covert information is better than a transparent one but you're wrong.  Look at what happened yesterday!  Every single family through the river valley was appalled to know that someone would even consider doing something like that.  We've known for weeks that they were going to make a move and you kept telling us just to wait.  What good did waiting do?"
"Charles" Howard stood up and approached his friends side.  "We can't jump every stranger that's moving through town.  Giving Longfellow those false documents with the wrong names on it worked."
"Worked?" Harold chimed in, "did more than worked.  Put every one here on notice to be on the look out.  If we'd tried doing all of that ourselves I'm sure Longfellow would have known we were watching him just as much as he was watching us." 
"Look boys" Mr. Josten stood to his feet.  "I know you all have grown up with haunted memories of your childhoods.  I still think about it from time to time myself.  Now you think it's the return of that type of activity, but that don't make it so.  LaFeu was snaking around, we knew it.  How did we know it?  Because we still use our own ways of keeping an eye on our people and property.  Now everyone else knows it as well, which is what we wanted and we let him make that announcement all by himself on our behalf.  What we don't need is him and LaFeu dividing our loyalities to each other.  You're going to have to trust us to know what we're doing.  We're not trying to under mind your lives but we have to give ourselves the benefit of trusting each other if we want to stay united against those two."
"So when do we go to Hovington?"  Simon asked.
"They're sending word through Thatcher."  Mr. Samuels answered.  "So far, everything went as smooth as silk for them.  Unless Mr. Schnof sends word to us otherwise we can assume that Mr. Longfellow and friends are happy with their positions in Hovington and are only moving through."
"And you trust Schnof?"  Simon blatantly asked.
"I'm not sure trust is an adequate word" Mr. Samuels replied.  "But as far as being able to keep up with Longfellow's movements he has been most helpful."
"Does Schnof know what we know?  About LaFeu I mean?"
"I didn't ask" Mr. Samuels answered honestly.  "He told me his side of the story and I only told him what I thought he needed to know about our situation here.  Which is what he could expect there as far as the water ways were concerned.  I'm sure Mr. Longfellow has as many operatives there as he does here keeping an eye on things; and with as many resources as he has he could be tapping the telegraph and phone lines.  So the less we tell them the less likely they are to speak out of turn or be peddled into some underhanded temptation to profit from a loss here."
Harold Langston was the next to speak.  "Well at least every one around here now knows and we're not the only ones on watch.  Is Father Francis still making his usual rounds tomorrow for the parish?"
"He is" Mr. Samuels answered.
"And every local knows how to go about their routine and the Riverton slip and slide" Simon stated.  His brother Paul finally added to the conversation.  "Almost like being a kid again."
"Not hardly" Charles answered still feeling obstinate to the conversation he was listening to. 
"Whether it is or isn't I need to get home" Howard made his claim.  "I have children of my own that I want to kiss good night.  Charles, get some sleep will you?  You think better when you're not tired."  Howard gathered his hat and jacket from the table he had been sitting at then bid the rest of the men there a good evening.  Simon, Paul, and Harold followed Howard's lead doing the same as he had.  Josten Langston encouraged Charles again, "give us time Charles.  You'll see, things work better if we're all doing our part.  Get yourself some rest, will you?"  Charles reluctantly shook Mr. Langston's hand.  "I'll see you tomorrow.  Earl" he turned to Mr. Samuels, "God be with you," he extended his hand.  Mr. Samuels returned his blessing then shook his hand.  Charles looked at his father knowing what the rest of their conversation was going to be.  Earl was already putting on his coat.  "You will tell me when you hear from Pembrook, won't you?"  Charles asked.  Earl was showing signs of fatigue from his long day.  "Of course I will, son.  Despite what you think, I still need you.  Riverton needs you, all of us do."  He spoke solemnly.  "Howard was right, you should go home and get some rest.  We have enough people watching the town tonight.  Give yourself some time off so you can think clearer in the morning.  Come on, you can escort you're stubborn old father home."  He smiled at his son.  Charles didn't bother faking a smile or an acceptance of the situation.  "I'd rather not.  Thought I would spend the night here."
Mr. Samuels looked at his son disappointed that he couldn't convince him to leave the tunnel for the night.  "Alright, well, I will see you tomorrow then I guess."  Charles nodded his head yes then said, "tell mother I love her will you?"  His father responded cordially, "of course I will" then went on his way out the door.  Charles sat down at the table and stared at the light still brightly glowing.  He had his own mind made up about what he was going to do now; sleep wasn't on his agenda.  He waited long enough for his father and the others who had went through the underground caverns to reach their destinations then began changing his clothes. 
It was exactly sunrise when he entered the parish basement.  He could hear the boards above him squeaking from the pressure of footsteps so he eased his way up the stair way to the door.  The door itself opened up in a small room used as a supply pantry for the church.  Charles looked around on the shelves at the old song hymnals that were covered with dust, the small lanterns used to decorate the building at Christmas, and the stacks of sheet music for the organ and piano that had been left there.  He rummaged through an old trunk in the corner that was filled with garments used to decorate the nativity scene that was displayed every year and found an old shepard's staff that had been disassembled to fit into the trunk.  He took the staff and put it into a duffle bag that he had brought with him from the tunnel.  He quietly closed the lid then made his way to the front door to see who was in the parish at so early an hour.  He eased the door open just enough to look through a small crack so he wouldn't be noticed.  Father Francis was busy sorting out various boxes on the front seats of the church.  Alden Schmidt and his wife were there along with their children as were the Willcot sisters who were always there to assist with the donation drive sponsored by the church.  Charles looked around long enough to see that he had enough time to board Father Francis's truck without being noticed by the others then made his way back down the stairs to the outside.  The truck was parked close enough to shelter him from being seen by anyone as he loaded himself in the back then behind the empty wood crates that were always kept in the back of the truck.  He covered himself with one of the old wool blankets that were stashed in the crates and waited.  As he did he began to feel the lost hours of sleep creep upon his weary eyelids.  He closed his eyes to wait knowing Father Francis would surely wake him when he closed the truck door.  Sure enough two hours later the truck door slammed shut waking Charles from his sleep.  He sat up and readjusted his self and his clothing.  He knew the route Father Francis always drove so he stayed where he was to stay out of sight.  After several stops around the town square Father Francis steered the truck down the long road out of town toward Hovington.  Charles moved to the back of the truck to keep an eye on the direction the truck was moving in.  When the truck would stop he would return to his hiding place behind the crates and wait while the donations were loaded then for the truck to start moving again.  After several stops along the road Charles positioned himself at the tailgate waiting for his opportunity.  When he saw the truck pass the old windmill at Sumner's pass he gathered his duffle bag on his shoulders then stepped out on the tailgate of the truck, holding on tightly as the truck splattered along the old gravel road.  When he felt the truck began to pull the small incline over the hill from Penelope's house he hunkered down.  As the truck went into the curve to the left he lept off the back of the truck into the wet grass ditchline on the right hand side of the road.  The landing jarred his body so much he laid there long enough to catch his breath then body rolled to the trees that were less than ten yards away.  When he got to the trees he stood to his feet to gather his wits and determination.  He waited until Father Francis's truck was completely out of sight nor could be heard any longer then he made his move.
It was Matilda who made the announcement that there was a truck that had stopped in front of the house.  Isabella walked to her side and looked out the window.  "It's Father Francis, he makes a trip every month to gather donations for the parish in town.  We promised him some plums for the pantry.  Come on, I'll introduce you." 
The two of them made their way through to the kitchen to open the back door.  That's when Matilda heard a thud on the side of the house next to the kitchen window.  "What was that?"  She asked looking in the windows direction.  Isabella looked and listened for another sound without hearing one.  "Must of been the water pipes from the well.  They do that sometimes after it rains." 
I was in the bathroom when I heard the noise so I hurried to see if it was Matilda in her room or an arrow from Oliver.  By the time I got to the window Matilda and Isabella were standing on the back porch gathering the small crates of plums to carry to the front of the house.  I went to the window and looked outside in the direction Oliver said he would send his messages.  Sure enough stuck in the outside wall was an arrow.  I went to the back porch.  "Ah, you're just in time to help" Isabella greeted me. 
"Help with what" I asked unaware of Father Francis's presence in the front yard. 
"Father Francis is here, for the plums, remember?  We told him we had some he could have for the pantry."
"Right" the memory came through.  "Alright" I was trying to decide between what to do first; the arrow or greet Father Francis. 
"Penelope" Matilda spoke to me as I stood in the door way, "would you step aside please.  These are heavier than they look."
I stepped outside the house, said excuse me, then spoke to Isabella as Matilda stepped through the door inside the house.  "Tell Father Francis I'll be there in a minute.  There's something I need to check on first."
Isabella asked, "are you alright?  You look a little befuddled."
"I'm fine, go on.  I'll be there in a minute." 
"Bring one of those when you do," she pointed to the plums sitting on the back porch, "will you?"  I nodded my head in agreement then she stepped inside the house and followed Matilda to the front door.  I watched them until Isabella opened the front door then went to the side of the house for the arrow.  I took the arrow down and unraveled the message attached to it.  The message read, "wood shed after prayer".  I put the paper in my pocket then stuck the arrow up under the back porch.  I looked to the barn only long enough to commit the message to memory then went back inside the house and out the front door. 
Father Francis was standing near his truck with the Willcot sisters who were looking through the plums Matilda and Isabella were holding in their hands.  "Those are beautiful, ours were so small this year."  Elly Willcot spoke as I was nearing them. 
Father Francis turned to greet me.  "Penelope Lochlan, so good to see you again."
"Good morning, sir" I greeted him then greeted Elly and Betty. 
"I was just saying your plums are so much better than ours were this year.  I've been after mother to have the trees pruned but she has had other things on her mind this year."  Elly commented.  "She's the head of the gardening club this year and has been so busy planning for the Harvest Festival that she's barely did anything else besides."
"We have some more" I spoke up immediately after she stopped talking, "that I forgot to bring with me didn't I" I looked at Isabella knowing she would understand.  "Why don't you four go and get them while I help Father Francis load these."
Betty and Elly agreed with my idea so Isabella and Matilda lead them both toward the house to collect the rest of the crates for donation.  When they walked back on the porch I spoke to Father Francis.  "Just had an arrow arrive with this on it" I handed him the paper.  He handed it back to me then told me to get one of the crates while he picked up the other.  We walked to the back of the truck to sit the plums on the back of it.  After he slid the crate in his hands on to the back of the truck he slipped an envelope out of his jacket pocket.  "This is for you.  Bryce said it was of the utmost importance that you get it this morning."  I looked at the paper in my hand.  "It came through late last night in response to the one that you sent yesterday."  Father Francis said in his usual calm Sunday sermon voice.  "I hope it's good news."
"Me too" I said while taking the telegram out of the small envelope that it had been tucked inside of.  "We will be there in two days. With love, mom and dad."  I offered the telegram to Father Francis to read but he declined.  "The telegram was for you, dear."
"It's from my parents.  They'll be here in two days."
"Well then, it was good news."  He said. 
Matilda's voice sounded in the distance behind me.  Her and the others were packing the plums toward the truck where we were standing.  I turned to Father Francis and made a simple request.  "You're going to the Whittenburg's next?"
"I am" he answered. 
"Tell them my parents will be here in two days, will you?"
"I will" he answered cordially.  "Now let's help these ladies with those beautiful plums shall we?"
We finished loading the crates on the back of the truck while Matilda and Isabella talked with the Willcot sisters.  Father Francis kept one of the plums for himself, eating it as the assembly of women talked about the upcoming events in Rivertown.  I was too distracted thinking about what I was going to find in the woodshed to pay any of them any attention.  After a few more minutes of casual conversation the three of them loaded back into the truck and drove on up the road out of sight.  Isabella looked up at the cloudless blue sky.  "Well, I think the wind finally blew the rain out" she said to Matilda. 
"It did didn't it.  Would it be alright if I did some laundry today?  I have a trunk full of dirty clothing that is in desperate need of a wash."
"Sure you can.  It will probably dry pretty quickly too as warm as it is.  Come on I'll help you."  Isabella responded then the two of them started back towards the house with me following them.  Once they were inside they gathered the laundry they wanted to wash while I dismissed myself to the backyard.  I stopped for just a moment to look for the arrow I had put under the porch to take with me.  Boris, Stogie and Spike were following my every step as I walked to the shed.  I opened the front doors first, fixing the latch on the outside to hold them open, so any of the wood which might have gotten wet from the rain could dry.  Then went around to the side door to let myself in.  Charles Samuels sat in the corner on a stack of old oak boards looking rather ragged in appearance. 
"Close the door" he whispered.  I stood there looking at him wondering if I wanted to talk to him or not.  "Close the door, please."  He spoke again.  I did as he asked but didn't move from where I had entered.  He stood up from where he had been sitting and pointed toward the arrow.  "That's mine, not whoever's in the barn."  I handed him the arrow in silence.  "I know what you're thinking" he took the arrow from my hand.  "But you have to give me a chance to tell you what you don't know."
"Does anyone else know that you're here?"
"No" he looked down at the floor and scratched at the floor with his boot.  "I went over the top of the barn through the trees.  Like we use to do when we were kids, remember?"  I nodded yes and sighed.  "That's why I'm here Penelope.  You and I know there's a hundred ways around that old barn."
"Charles" I felt rather awkward that he was there without anyones knowledge besides mine.  "What is it that you want?"
"I don't want anything.  I just wanted to explain a few things to you that I thought you needed to know about what was going on now.  And since no one else is this whole damn place will do it, I figured I would."  Matilda and Isabella's distant voices interrupted him talking.  I looked through the shed walls to see them standing on the back porch near the washing machine.  "It's alright" I reassured him.  "They're just doing laundry."
"Who's that with Isabella" he asked in a whisper.
"A friend of hers from Pembrook.  She's visiting for a couple of weeks."
He walked closer to the wall and peered through the cracks in the wall himself.  "What's her name?"
"What does it matter?"
He turned around hastily.  "It matters that we know who all is in our town" he said. 
"Don't worry about it.  She wears dresses and bonnets" I answered him feeling a certain distrust of his presence. 
"Penelope, don't be like that.  How long have we known each other?  Huh?  How long?  Years, twenty or more now isn't it?  Do you think I would have said something like that yesterday if I didn't have a good reason."
"And your reason was" I wanted to know what he was implying without saying. 
"Gaston LaFeu, Madison Longfellow; either of those names ring a bell or rather I should say, fire a cannon off in your front yard?"
I put my hand into my pocket to grip the telegram I had received needing the courage to listen to what he wanted to say.  "I'm listening" I answered his remarks then he began telling me every thing he knew about the situation concerning the spectacle that was playing out every where around us.  As he spoke I started to remember the story Matilda had told me the night before.  What Charles suspected via the stories he had been gathering from the communities around Rivertown fit perfectly with what Matilda had told me she experienced in Pembrook and Rock Flatts first hand.  Boris was sniffing around the wood shed on the outside near the floor boards where I was standing on the inside.  Charles continued talking about his father and Mr. Langston's ideas about waiting the situation out while Charles himself, along with Simon, Howard, and Harold all wanted to find a way to stop what was going on by proving that LaFeu and Longfellow were raiding via Longfellow's connections rather than by gun, for the moment.  I listened closely to his concerns about Hovington being their starting point, Pembrook being their strong hold and Rivertown sitting right smack bab between them.  I looked back toward the back porch where Matilda and Isabella were wringing their laundry through the rinse tub. 
"What if it isn't Longfellow doing the raiding?"  I asked him once he had stopped talking.  "What if it's LaFeu doing the raiding and Longfellow's the one just buying the properties he raids?"  He looked at me while arching his left eye brow, "you know something, don't you?"  I nodded my head yes.  "What" he stepped to me quickly.  "You know it's LaFeu, is that what you're saying?"  I thought about the situation for a minute then decided how I was going to settle his curiosity.  "Do you have any clean clothes with you?"  I asked him.  He looked at me confused.  "Clean clothes?  What's wrong with my clothes?"
"I want to introduce you to someone.  But" I took a step back and looked at his grass stained muddied trousers and shirt.  "You look like crap, Charles."  He laughed.  "I look like" he laughed again.  "Well, I haven't slept more than seven hours in three days. I had to jump out of a moving truck driven by Father Francis then climb a tree and scuttle from branch to branch to get over here without whoever was in the barn putting an arrow in my behind." I couldn't help but laugh at his story.  "Oliver" I provided him with the name of his would be bow man.  "Oliver" he snickered, "right, Oliver.  One of the best bowman in our part of world ey?"
"That's what they all say" I felt a little relief beginning to welcome itself into my thinking.  "Well, pull your self together man.  Have you got a clean shirt you can wear in that duffle of yours or not?"
"Yeah" he heaved a deep breath.
"Good, put it on.  I want to introduce you to Isabella's friend.  I think you two will have something to talk about that would do us all some good."
Before I left the shed I told him to whistle when he was finished changing so I could escort him to the house without drawing Oliver's arrow out of the barn.  He thanked me then I stepped outside to go talk to Isabella and Matilda.  As soon as I stepped outside another arrow zipped into the side of the woodshed.  Needless to say, that got my attention.  I took two steps then reached for the arrow that was clearly visible from where I stood.  I turned my back from the porch in order to remove it hoping Isabella and Matilda wouldn't see me.  "Get inside, stay inside.  Take Charles with you." 
I backed up the steps I had taken and went into the shed again.  "Oliver said to get inside and stay there."
"Did he, now?" Charles looked concerned.
"He knows you're here." I reached up and wiped a blade of grass out of the long bangs of his hair.  Then I handed him the note.  Charles looked at it long enough to see what was on the paper then grabbed his duffle bag with one hand and my hand with the other.  "Let's go."  He pushed the door on the shed open without another thought and the two of us sprinted across the yard.  Boris caught up with us before we reached the porch.  Isabella turned just as we made it to the porch.  Our presence startled her into stumbling backwards a few feet into the table where they had piled the clothes they intended to wash.  Matilda turned, gasped, clutched her chest and shrieked, "sweet lord!" Charles and I spoke at the same time, "get inside, now."  He pulled the back door open. Boris ran through first followed by Isabella and Matilda.  Charles held the door but I stopped before going in.  "Penelope, go," he ordered.  I walked off the back porch and hollered for my other two dogs.  Charles tried to hurry me again.  "We don't have time for this" he over exaggerated.  I turned to look him straight in the eye.  "Go lock up the house.  I'll be there in a minute."  He stood there looking at me.  "Go on.  I'll be right behind you.  Stogie, Spike!"  I called out again.  Seconds later they both rounded the corner of the house.  "Inside" I gave the command so inside they went.  Charles was standing in the kitchen looking around.  Isabella and Matilda were in the living room closing the windows.  "We have a room behind the cold box.  We'll go there for now.  Isabella, Matilda, get in the kitchen with Charles.  Do what he says."  I said as I walked past him to go to my bedroom.  Boris was in the living room next to Isabella but left her to follow me.  Once inside my room I closed the window away from the road and front yard.  Just as I started to close the curtain I saw what the arrow was sent for.  "Get away from the doors and windows now" I shouted to those in the front room.  "Get in the kitchen.  Isabella, take Boris with you."  I spoke loud enough for everyone to hear me.  I looked at Boris who was sitting next to my feet looking up at me.  "To the kitchen, go."  He left the room as instructed.  As he did Isabella appeared in the door way. "Penelope," she said my name wondering what was going on.  I made my way to the front of the house next to the other window and eased the curtain back but only slightly.  "There" I whispered.  She moved quickly next to me to see what was going on.  There, on the other side of the river in the field, were several men on horseback.  I dropped the curtain back into place then slid the window closed.  "Come on then" I took her by the arm and escorted her through the bedroom door to the kitchen.  Charles was standing next to the cold box when we got there.  "In you go" I escorted Isabella inside the safe room then turned to walk back out.  She and Charles spoke at the same time with the same question.  "Where are you going?" 
"To the bath room.  Charles, stay with those two.  I have to finish locking up."  I went to the back door and pushed the cross bars across the door on the inside.  Then I locked all the kitchen windows with their props. I went to the bathroom next to secure the window there. After I finished I went to Matilda's room to check the windows.  When I stepped inside I saw several large trucks covered with tarpaulins moving up the road past the barn in direction toward the house.  My curiosity got the better of me so I went to the front window there and looked across the river.  A long flat boat loaded with men sitting on blocks of stone was floating up the river very, very slowly.  I leaned back as far as I could trying to stay out of sight but still see what was going on in the front yard.  It was too late to close the window without being seen so I waited; watching to see if anyone of the strangers passing through would make a move toward the house.  Stogie came inside the room to see where I was.  I petted him on the head then continued watching the movements going on outside.  The men on the river were pretty much stationary.  The fellows across the river on horse back had split up into three groups.  One of the groups was still near where I had saw them originally looking towards my property.  Another group had made it's way down the river bank next to where the boat was approaching.  While yet another, with no more than four riders, were making their way past the boat going in the opposite direction away from the house in the direction of the barn.  Just then two more horseman appeared in my front yard off of the road.  They road up next to the water well.  I looked at Stogie who had started growling a low growl.  "Easy" I spoke to him softly.  One of the horseman turned his horse in the direction of the front porch and began making his way towards the house.  "Let's go" I spoke to the dog then hunkered down low beneath the window where I couldn't be seen to make my way to the door.  Once I had cleared the bedroom door I made my way straight into the kitchen where I slipped inside the safe room, called Stogie inside, then slid the door closed, making sure the beams of the door and the wall fit flush together smoothly.  Charles reached over my head and slid a large iron latch into place to hold the top of the door.  I slid the one closest to me in the middle closed, then squated down to latch the one on the bottom into place.  When I stood up to turn around Charles asked, "is that all of them? Three?" 
"No" I answered then walked to the other side of the door and showed him where the others were on that side.  "You lock the ones on top, I'll lock the bottom."  We both worked putting the rest of the safety latches in place.  As I slid the last one into position Boris licked the side of my face.  "Hey boy.  You alright?  Yeah" I rubbed his head.  "You're alright.  Good boy."  When I stood back up to my full height Charles, Isabella and Matilda were all staring at me.  "Well, we're all here now" I answered their uneasy glares.  
"How many were there?"  Charles asked.
"About 15 on horse back.  Two were in the front yard; the others were across the river.  Four trucks past while I was in Matilda's bedroom and sounded like some more were heading this way."
"Is that all" he asked.
"No, there was another barge load too."
He looked around the room, "is this place stocked?"
"Yes, I keep this one full."
"And the path?" He wanted to know.
"Yes, it's good.  We can take what we need from here if we have to go further."
"It's been raining" he was concerned.
"We went through last night.  The floor was dry, the roof was dry.  Boris's paws were clean when we came out."
"What time?"
"I'm not sure exactly.  Sometime after midnight I believe."
"Alright, good" he let out a deep sigh. 
I looked at Isabella and Matilda who were both still standing in the middle of the room looking at the two of us.  "Have a seat" I offered them all to join me as I walked over to one of the chairs in the narrow room and sat down.  Charles took the chair directly across from me leaving the small sofa open for Isabella and Matilda.  Boris, Stogie and Spike gathered around me to be petted.  We all sat quitely for a few minutes until Isabella spoke.  "Well, Charles, when did you get here?"  He chuckled; so did I.  "This morning" he answered.  Isabella waited for more details but when none were offered she made a formal introduction.  "Well, Charles Samuels, I would like to introduce you to one of my very best friends, Matilda Dayhuff.  Matilda this is one of Penelope's oldest and dearest friends, Charles Samuels."  Charles stood up from his chair respectively bowing slightly to Matilda who remained seated next to Isabella.  "It is a pleasure, Ms? Dayhuff, is it?"  Matilda offered him her hand in greeting to which he obliged the gesture.  "Yes, Miss" Matilda confirmed.  "But please, call me Matilda."
"Thank you, Matilda" Charles gently shook her hand.  He then changed his attention to Isabella.  "It's good to see you again, Isabella."  She started to stand up but he insisted she stay seated.  He offered his hand to greet her.  "It's good to see you" she said.  "How on earth did you get here?"
"Father Francis" he answered looking over to me. 
I didn't waste time with trying to be polite.  I was more interested in Charles and Matilda discussing what they both knew immediately.  "Charles had to sneak through.  He had some information he thought we should know."  
"Which is" Isabella asked.
Charles reseated himself in his chair then began telling Isabella and Matilda all he had learned about Gaston LaFeu's presence in Riverton.  We all sat listening quietly until I noticed he was having trouble speaking clearly.  I offered him something to drink, to which he accepted gratefully, then asked the others if they would like something to drink as well.  They too accepted my offer so I went about gathering us all something to drink, adding a few items to eat to the tray I was to serve it on.  While Charles talked, I listened as close as I could to the outside walls for any sound that I might possibly be able to hear.  I heard nothing.  Then I took the serving dish around the furniture offering each person their refreshments then went to a small cupboard and gathered some dried beef strips for my dogs.  After I filled a bowl of water for them I went back to my chair and sat down.  I couldn't help but look at Matilda for her reaction.  It was as I thought it would be.  Her face was pale, her hands trembling trying to hold her drink in her lap.  Isabella looked at me.  I could see the discomfort she was sensing on her face.  "Matilda worked for Gaston" I told Charles once he stopped talking to take a drink from his cup.  "She can probably tell you more about him than you want to know."
Charles looked at me obviously aware of the affect his story had had on our two companions. "I would be glad to know it" he said.  He looked at Matilda.  "If you would be so kind, Ms. Dayhuff."  Matilda took a slight sip of her tea then placed her cup on the saucer.  Isabella reached for one of her hands to hold and encouraged her to tell him what she had told the two of us.  Matilda made a quick glance in my direction then began to speak.  As she recited her story to Charles my mind wondered off back to the telegram in my pocket.  It seemed like an eternity had passed since Father Francis had been in my front yard giving it to me and where I was at the moment.  By the time Matilda had finished her story we had all finished our first cup of tea and Isabella and Charles were drinking their second. 
"So old man Bertram in Hovington knew what he was talking about then, didn't he?"  Charles looked at me.  "Appears so" I answered.  "How long did you and your father know that LaFeu was nosing around here?"
"Since last year, he was in to my place to have a tire fixed on his car looking for a place to stay the night.  Slept in at the Martin's house."
I looked at Isabella then back to him.  "And you? What?  I mean what made you think that he was up to no good?"
"His tire; the spokes had been broken because the rim had been hammered in.  Like someone had did the damage first then put the tire over it knowing it would lose it's air.  Most people wouldn't have thought anything about it I don't guess.  Just thought a bump on the road would have caved it in.  But I knew the difference.  Had to hammer one straight one time to fix my own after hitting a hole.  The hammer marks are completely different from a bump on the rim.  Then he kept coming around.  Every time he came back through more fellows showed up with him or after him.  Stay awhile at the Martin's or the Motel then one group would leave and a bunch of new ones would move in.  Next thing we knew they started posting watch zones all over town.  Had people sitting on top of buildings all day and all night.  Now for folks just passing through that's just not right.  So dad, Mr. Langston, and a few others went back to their ways of doing things the way they did when we were kids."  He pointed his head towards me.  "Don't know how much of that you remember though.  I'm a few years older than you are and you're a" he stopped short.  "A woman" I smiled.  Matilda looked between Charles and me.  "Wait, you two were in those raids that was going on here all those years ago?"
Charles looked at me without speaking, pursing his lips together. 
I answered her question.  "Yes."
A unusal silence settled in the room among us before Matilda asked.  "How old were you?"  Charles answered her first.  "I was two when they started; eight when they finally stopped."  Matilda looked at me.  "And you?"  Matilda and Isabella looked at me curiously kind.  Charles looked like he had seen a ghost.
"I don't know.  I was too young to remember."
"You were a baby" he answered.  "Barely a year old, if that."
"Well there you have it" I faked a grin wondering why he was looking at me the way he was.  I then looked at Isabella.  "I told you I didn't remember much about them.  Only stories that other people talked about."  She nodded her head silently.  "I can't imagine" Matilda said.  "We heard so much about them over the years in Pembrook. I guess that it became more folklore than imaginable.  Which is sad to say, but it's true.  I mean the very idea, people trying to steal entire banks and towns away from the people who owned them."
"I guess what people say is true," Isabella commented, "desparate men resort to desparate methods."
Charles was still looking at me unflinchingly.  His gaze was starting to make me feel more than uncomfortable so I spoke to him.  "Well at least your father and the rest of you knew enough to keep an eye on them.  What I want to know is how Mr. LaFeu and Mr. Longfellow made it this far upstream yesterday without anyone's knowledge."
"We knew he was on his way" Charles admitted.  "Father and the others just wanted to see how much truth he was going to tell us about his business and if he would stay true to what he proposed to do.  Which he didn't."
"So the councilmen did know that Mr. Longfellow was going to use the river that way?"
"No" Charles shook his head.  "No we didn't; they didn't.  Gaston LaFeu was suppose to give us, rather give father and the rest of them one week's notice before moving a caravan of trucks through the roads of Riverton.  Some of them, like this one, aren't paved like the others around town.  They rut under the weight.  He never mentioned a barge, he never mentioned Mr. Longfellow, and he never mentioned using the river at all.  When Mr. Bertram overheard a few new fellows, in Hovington, talking outside his barbershop window is when we knew Gaston LaFeu's plan; which I might add, involves swindling Mr. Longfellow in the end as well.  Now, alot of that is talk but considering some of the other things we've learned, including Matilda's story, I'd say eventually that's exactly what he will do.  LaFeu plays all his cards by himself; below the surface so no one knows what he's doing.  Then he muscles them.  If what Matilda here tells us is true, he even muscles his own family and their businesses.  Now his brothers and family might be trying to keep their hands clean and out of his spotlight but according to you" he pointed at Matilda, "they haven't had much success doing it.  Neither has anyone else who pairs up with him.  But with him using Mr. Longfellow as an ally to threaten us with while he has his own plan under his hat that don't involve anyone winning but him, we don't have much of a choice.  Everyone else has a public reputation to uphold.  The Longfellows, his brother in Pembrook, everyone but him.  He don't care that he demeans his own parents, his own brothers, his wife, or his kids and a man like that can't be trusted.  They want people to fear them.  That's why he incites it.  Now word is that when he reached Hovington he was much quieter.  No gun show, no walking up on people baring false claims who didn't know him.  But the properties he claims there is as far as he went as well."
"And today they do all of this" I added to Charles' cauldron of ideas.
"Do what?" Matilda asked.
"Push a bunch of heavy trucks up the road and horses onto peoples' property."  Isabella answered, "after it rains."
Charles nodded his head yes. 
"But they haven't hurt anyone, have they" Matilda asked.
"As far as my father and the others know, no.  But from what you're saying yes.  Do you remember the names Mr. Sheffield mentioned to you?  Where were the other maids and governesses from?"
"Hovington" Matilda answered slowly realizing what she was actually involved in; hopefully escaping.  "Pembrook, and one from a local house in Rock Flatts."
"And their entire families disappeared, without a trace.  Not a one of them to be found anywhere in our entire state."  Charles made sure to impress his idea into the seriousness of the matter.  "You came here for shelter" he continued.  "If Mr. Sheffield is an honest man you'll be well hidden until Gaston's rage ends then you can have your life back.  If he's not then,"
"Well ain't you just a big old bag of happy thoughts" I spoke up to keep us all from being thrown into a worse frame of mind than could have been.  "We're all safe right now.  So what if they tear up the roads and the yard?  Those things can be fixed.  You're here, you're with us.  We have a way of keeping our selves as safe as we possibly can.  I'm sure by the time word gets back to Riverton about all of this, we'll all have a better chance of getting rid of this guy.  They know the right people to contact to make this stop." Matilda tried to put on a brave smile for our benefit but it lacked originality.  Isabella looked around the room at those of us sitting there.  "How many of these room do you actually have?" She asked.
"Well, there's this one, which is obviously the easiest room to access then there's the ones underneath that takes more ambition but are only known to very few people outside of Riverton.  Unless of course they themselves have a similar system in their own areas that we don't know about.  Which could very well be.  Every one has to protect themselves.  We weren't the only town that was raided over the years.  Hovington went through the same thing;  Sweetwater, Richland, Rose Dale, the entire area from here to the state line both ways according to the stories I've heard over the years."
Charles was resting quietly in his chair but I could tell his mind was busy thinking.  Matilda went to the small cupboard to put her cup and saucer
away.  If there was anything I could have said to make them feel easier I would have said it.  But the facts spoke for themselves to each of us.  Isabella was the first to speak after the long awkward silence that was lingering in the room from the unknown factors outside the house.  "How long do we stay in this place?"
"Until we're told otherwise" I answered.
"Or until one of us gets to Oliver to find out what's going on out there" Charles suggested.  "I could slip through the path."  I nodded my head in agreement knowing that all of us sitting there wasn't going to ease anyone's anxiety.  Still the idea of him leaving the room wasn't very appealing.  If Oliver was in position to have spotted him then he was obviously more aware of what was going on outside than anyone inside was.  The next few minutes lingered with a delicate silence.  Before he could speak again I made my own announcement.  "I'll go."
"Go where" he asked.
"Through the path" I kept talking so he couldn't interupt me, "it is, after all, my property and no one knows the way better than Boris and I.  You can stay with these two here."  He looked at Matilda and Isabella then back at me.  "Alright, go on" he agreed.  I didn't wait for him to change his mind.  I stood up gathered what I would need for the journey underneath then went to the small hatch in the corner.  Matilda and Isabella stood up from where they were sitting watching my every move as I prepared to go.  Charles stayed seated but not quite.  "Find out if Oliver's alone, if he is stay with him and send Boris back.  He can make the trip alone can't he?"
"He can but he won't.  I'll be back when we can both make it.  Feel free to find what you need for your visit.  Close the hatch behind me.  Make sure you lock it back."  With that I gave Boris's leash the go ahead and down he went with me following at the right distance behind him.  Just as my feet made it to the level surface of the tunnel floor a shadow over head blocked my vision of the floor.  I looked back up to see Isabella and Charles standing side by side above me.  "Be careful" she said.  I nodded my head slightly that I would, smiled to them both then started making my way through the darkness with Boris leading the way.  It didn't take long before we arrived at the exit beneath the barn.  I poured some cinnamon in the lantern oil, lit the lantern, hoisted it on a rope near the opening and waited.  The bag I had left the food in the night before was empty.  After more than an hour I heard a voice say, "butternut squash or apple pie does not matter you see",
then I replied, "for there's no sweeter taste to find than a comb of Lochlan honey."  I could hear the shuffling sounds of more than one person above my head.  Then a small rope just behind the food sack began to squeak slightly on the pulley it was tied to.  I saw the rope move lowering a small paper wrapped and tied to the rope down to where I stood.  Once the rope  stopped I pulled the string from around the paper to read what was written.  "They didn't get an answer when they knocked on your door.  I'll see you at sunset.  Marve"  I reached in the food bag and found the small pencil always left in it.  "The kitchen is the quickest way to find food" I wrote on the back of the paper.  Then affixed the note back to the small rope to send it on it's way back up to where it had came from.  Before I blew out the lantern the voice spoke again, "the elves clean well here underneath."  Without answering I snuffed out the light then gave Boris the go signal.  When I arrived back at the hatch I had came from I did the same; added cinnamon to the lantern oil, lit the lantern and waited.  Thomas must have been waiting directly above the hatch because I wasn't there more than a minute with the lantern before I heard him say, "Sunday's are a lazy day full of food and mirths" I couldn't help but smile prior to saying, "So never laugh at any man who wears a flannel shirt to church."   I heard the latches on the top of the floor move then the floor boards opened.  Boris lead me straight up the walk way to the safe room where my three house guests were waiting.  "What did Oliver say" Charles asked before I was even completely in the room.  "He didn't.  Marve did." 
"Marve?  Marve Handle?"
"Goodpasture, he wasn't that fond of squash."
"So Oliver's not alone.  That's good, what else?"  Charles asked anxiously.
"He said the folks outside knocked on the front door but didn't get an answer.  Someone would be here tonight with more information."
"Is that all?"  He seemed disappointed.
I slipped the collar off of Boris then went to put it back on the wall.  "That's all.  But at least we know there's more than one person out there keeping watch.  We'll get the rest of the story later."  Charles lowered the floor boards then fixed the locks to hold it shut.  "How many men did you say you counted?"  I turned around to survey the faces of everyone in the room.  "Enough to keep us inside until sunset, look Charles, if you want to go on to the barn then go.  But in all honesty Marve, Oliver, and whoever else is out there thought they would be alright, as would we, if everyone stayed where they were.  You know if they would have needed help they would have ask for it."
"So every thing's alright so far" Isabella asked.
"I'm not sure alright's the right word, but they didn't seemed paniced or in need of anything."
Charles looked at the floor beneath where he stood then at Boris's feet.  "The path's still dry I see."  I hadn't noticed but when I looked at the dog I agreed with what he had said.  "Look's that way."  I walked back over to the chair to sit down.  Matilda looked at me like she was wanting to ask a question.  "So what did you two do while I was out?"  I asked to loosen up the tension in the room.  Isabella was the first to answer "gossiped about you" she smiled. 
"Really, well, wasn't a very long conversation then was it" I replied.
"Was more than you would think" Isabella continued, "well it wasn't just about you.  We were talking about Boris as well."  I smiled, "Boris?  Well, that's something to talk about, ain't it?"  Matilda was the next to speak, "Isabella was telling me about her adventure last night with you two."  She looked at the dog who had joined me by my chair.  "I had no idea an animal could learn to do such things." 
I petted his head.  "It's something we practice" I said.
Charles left his position by the floor hatch and rejoined us while we talked.  His demeanor hadn't changed much.  "Matilda here tells me that she's suppose to be in Europe."  I could hear the uneasiness in his voice and didn't think Isabella and Matilda were enjoying his constant restlessness either.  So I gave in to his leading, "you said you had been keeping tabs on LaFeu and his men in town for a while now.  How about you tell us everything you've learned about him while we wait."  So he did, including every detail he could remember with every name and description of the fellows he had learned were in and through Riverton.  As I listened I began to understand how complex this situation was.  Not too many people could have appreciated the depth of surveillance that had gone into the gathering of what the city council of Riverton had done but then again, there wasn't too many people who would have suspected LaFeu and his men as trouble either.  For all intents and purposes they looked like average people going about their every day occupations passing back and forth through Riverton.  Matilda and Isabella didn't talk much while Charles was reciting the overall procedure by which they had gained their information and I was sure there was even more than that that he wasn't saying.  I also understood the reasons why.  Matilda and Isabella were outsiders.  No matter their positions now inside my house they really wasn't from Riverton and it's surrounding areas.  People here might have seemed odd to those who didn't grow up around these parts but truth was our people had survived things other people from other places had never been through.  Matilda was the next one to speak after Charles had finished.  "So all of those raids were people who were hired to take advantage of the locals after the first war and the great depression."
"Yes, most were temporary immigrants, or illegals from Europe, who had been deliberately placed so when our men were drafted off to Europe to help with the fighting there, the elderly, the women and children were easy targets."  Charles confirmed.  "I don't think they thought about Riverton's immigrants who weren't drafted into the military as being a threat or having enough skill to organize a resistance but they did."
"Your grandparents?" Isabella questioned him.
"Mine, the Grouses, the Martins, the Hunts, the Thatchers'" he paused and looked at me, "the Mancini's, the Lochlans, the Whittenburg's and the rest who had settled in these parts after the first World War.  If it hadn't have been for the new settlers coming in the older ones would have lost everything.  We all would have lost everything.  I'm telling you, it wasn't an easy way to learn how to survive, but we did."
"Then after the war ended things settled down."  Isabella spoke as if she wanted to change the subject. 
"Shortly there after, yes" Charles continued.  "But it took some time to have everything returned to the right families and for the families to learn who they could trust.  Those fellows who had been away getting shot at were real uneasy with a few of the people around here who still had their thick European accents.  Trust me, it took more than the Longfellows inflence at the state capital and the bankers from Pembrook and Bridge Port to quell that mess.  A lot of people including my family and the Whittenburgs wasn't sure that all of them ever really left.  Thought they had just went into hiding to plan their next attempt.  Some still think that."
"Like Gaston LaFeu?  Oh that's impossible," Matilda finally spoke after an extended period of quiet.  "He's from Pembrook.  His entire family's from Pembrook."
"I didn't say LaFeu personally" Charles defended his self.  "But who's to say he himself isn't working for a ramnent of the original work hands that was hired to help lead the raids.  Or a protege of what he watched and learned.  He would have been about our age now in those days."
"Seriously?  You think the leaders of those raids are still trying to destabilize our towns to do the same things again?"  I asked him myself.  Charles wasn't one to play coy, especially with me.  We had too much in common and knew each other too well for him to try.  "We don't know.  But we figured that we might as well consider that notion as much as we did any of the rest."
"So if it's only LaFeu" I started to speak but stopped to consider what he was implying. 
"If it's only LaFeu then we have a better chance of keeping ourselves and our neighbors safe and getting the right help to the right people to stop his coercions.  If there's someone else using LaFeu to promote a disturbance in order to start another upheavel within the banks here and in Pembrook and Bridge Port then we'll need to let someone know who can handle those types of situations."
"You make it all sound so fantastic" Isabella said. 
"Well it might seem that way to you but the truth is after one world war and a banking disaster that almost wiped out a million businesses and their families within the past thirty years who's to say what's really happening?  Or that Riverton and Hovington is the only places that it's happening?  We won't really know anything until we find a way to settle it."
"Your dad, he has friends that he can contact right?  About the could be outsiders?"  I wanted to know.  "Yes, and he has contacted them.  He did that right after some of LaFeu's men moved into the Motel as permanent residence and started keeping tabs on the telegraph and post office.  My father's contacts sent a few of their own people in to town as well.  They're staged as local residence for their own safety but honestly, we're still no closer to knowing if LaFeu works for a bigger organization or not.  As of right now it only appears to be him."
"Why would they stake out the telephone and post office?"  Isabella pried.
"To keep tabs on the telegrams being sent and to whom they're sent.  Mr. Thatcher believes they're tapping the lines to intercept as many as they can.    It's a way of spying that's been used for over a hundred years.  Thatcher learned about it before he moved here to Riverton.  He worked as an apprentice in Bridge Port during the first war.  You'd be surprise how many small telegraph operations were being used inside major cities around our area by outside groups inside this country.  Old warehouses that were being used to try to subvert transmissions from our country to their own in so many ways even Thatcher couldn't learn them all."
"I didn't know that" I admitted to Charles and the others.
"Well it's true.  He use to tell us boys stories when we were growing up about learning how to disrupt telegraph transmissions that were being sent through telephone lines in order to prevent shipments of guns and ammunitions and bombs to small groups of enemies right here inside the United States.  Some as close as Bridge Port, where they were trying to infilitrate the rail road systems that were transporting soliders to training camps for deployment to Europe."
"Mr. Thatcher?  Our Mr. Thatcher?"  I was surprised by the information.
"Blow up the trains you mean?"  Matilda asked.
"Yes blow up the trains with the soldiers on them; and yes, Bryce's dad old man Thatcher.  One of the quiet little unknown heroes who helped stop more than one blast from crumbling the entire country back to its knees like it was over seas."  Isabella joined the conversation.  "Who would have thought that in our lifetime we would live through such things like that?  Now someone who experienced it first hand is defending a little town like Riverton right here."  Charles rejoined the conversation.  "That's what makes him such an asset to us.  Our telecommunication systems haven't developed as much here in Riverton as they have in bigger towns, like Pembrook and Bridge Port, over the years. So that's our advantage.  We use telegraphing as a way to accompany and supplement our telephone services. It also supplements the mail system.  There are quite a few families with telephones here in Riverton, most of them within a five mile radius of town but those of us in the outlying areas haven't had the good fortune to have them expand into our area as of yet."  He looked at Matilda instructing her, "I mean, look at this place" he looked at me, "no offence meant Penelope, you have a beautiful home" Charles continued as if he were only speaking to Matilda more than Isabella and myself.  "Alot of us, Penelope included, still use oil lamps at home to supplement the electricity because the lines aren't as sturdy and dependable here as they are in the city where they're closer to the transformers and electric stations.  Being in a small rural area has its' advantages but it has its' disadvantages too."
Matilda agreed, "it certainly has.  I mean" she blushed as she tried to reform her response.  "When I first arrived here for my visit I was a little taken back by the lack of a telephone but then again, for the most part, everything else in the house is as much the same as it is in Pembrook.  Except for the lighting at night of course but the oil lanterns have such a simplistic appeal to them.  They give the house such a warm welcoming look.  Then Riverton itself has so many modern facilities and businesses with half the crowd" she giggled.  "It makes shopping so much easier." 
The rest of our evening went pretty much the same.  The exception being instead of Charles and I answering questions to discuss our childhood and families, Matilda and Isabella answered mine and his questions about their childhood and families.  We learned that Matilda had five siblings; two older brothers, two older sisters, and a younger sister.  All of whom had grown up together in the same household where they lived with their parents, an aunt, her father's sister, and her grandparents, also her father's parents.  Both of her brothers had served in the Army after the stock market crash inside the country returning home safely to start their own businesses.  One as a baker in Pembrook who had married and brought forth three, darling children she called them, of his own, while the other brother started a tug boat company  north of Pembrook in an area called Sweetwater.  His company helped guide supply barges on the river there to move various raw materials purchased from larger cities to smaller town train stations for delivery inland.  Him and his wife had two sons of their own who visited Matilda's household in Pembrook during their summer months when they were out of school.  Matilda's oldest sister was a music teacher, teaching piano, at an all girls bording school in Bridge Port, only four blocks from the library where my father had been working during his retirement.  Of course I kept that piece of information to myself.  The sister only a year and a half older than her own age was a house wife in Pembrook raising two beautiful daughters while happily awaiting the birth of her third child due to be born in the early months of the following year.  Her sister's husband worked as an accountant in Arnold LaFeu, Gaston LaFeu's brother, bank.  That of course raised my attention level to what she was saying.  Charles and I looked at each other
silently noting the complexity we were obviously now in the middle of.  Neither of us questioned her statement at the time she spoke but I knew the additive of that information would later become another point of interest for Charles and his father.   Mean while, Matilda went on to say that her youngest sister was still away at school in neighboring Maple City where she was studying the classical symphony violin during her governess training.  Although her sister silently yearned for a full time position with the Maple City Orchestra she was still duty bound to her governess position after she finished school.  Matilda had steadily encouraged her sister not to give up her hopes for a position with the orchestra reminding her always that the world they had grew up in was constantly changing into a more opened society where young women could become more than a governess and house wife.  Apparently she and Matilda were the two more independantly minded women of their father's children wanting to establish their own accomplishments before marrying and starting their own families.  If ever they decided they wanted to marry at all. 
Isabella was the next to follow Matilda in revealing her immediate family's history.  Most of it I already knew but then there were other parts to which I was surprised to hear as well.  Her childhood home had been on the same street as Matilda's when they were younger.  She had grown up as the middle child amongst her siblings of six sisters and no brothers.  Her mother and father were born in Pembrook where they had been introduced to each other at a party hosted by her father's employer.  He had worked at a local automobile company in Pembrook as an office manager and receptionist.  Her mother was a department store clerk in one of the dress stores owned by a branch of Clarisa Longfellow's family from the Pembrook, Bridge Port area.  Clarisa's family were the Estrella de Alava's; their original descendents were from Madrid, Spain.  Isabella's mother had worked for the Alava's since studying as a coutoure seamstress during her youth.  She was an excellent seamstress who was a full time head seamstress, hired by the Longfellows' and the Alavas' for their social gatherings in Pembrook, as a personal dressing assistant when they were hosting such gala's as the summer garden parties on the fourth of July.  Isabella and her sisters were always invited to the Alavas' high society pagants often wearing gowns and dresses crafted in a haute coutoure fashion to promote their European designs being sold in their stores.  Isabella herself had been employed as a seamstress for the same family after graduating from school only later to find the work and the people she worked with to be unreasonable bores.  She had changed her choice of professions to enter into a training school for governesses, the same school Matilda attended, and was later employed by another side of the Estrella de Alavas' family who were Abraham and Ruth Klein. 
"So how was it you two met?"  Charles was the one to ask Isabella referring to her and myself. 
"My mother" I answered for us.  "Do you remember those few years I went with my family to Bridge Port after my father's fall?  Right after he took that tumble off the roof at the city hall building onto that stack of two by fours?"  Charles winced at the memory then nodded his head yes.  "Isabella had retired from the Klein's house and was working in the gift store at the hospital where we took my father.  She helped sneak me in and out of the hospital so I could sit with him at night and my mother could go home to sleep."  Matilda looked at Isabella curiously, "Wait, that was Penelope who you thought was?"  She stopped her question before finishing.  Isabella and I both laughed.  "Yes" I said.  "She thought I was a very handsome young man sneaking up the fire escape when she first saw me." 
"Yes well," Isabella injected her next sentence, "I actually had to follow her to find out where she was sneaking into to talk to her.  But then once I did that was all the incentive I needed to let her in a much easier way as well.  Bless her heart, she's such a quiet thing.  There she was sneaking out of her mother's house, after her mother went to sleep, then climbing a fire escape trying not to get into any trouble by sneaking into the hospital to sit up with her father.  Then just at sunrise sneaking back out of the hospital to go back to her mother's before her mother woke up."
Matilda pouted out her lip and said, "ah, that's so sweet."
"Honestly, I don't know when she slept."  Isabella continued her story about our first meeting.  "By the time the visitors' doors opened in the mornings at seven o'clock, there she was escorting her mother back through the doors to sit with him again through the day.  I fell asleep at the diner across the street trying to find out who she was and what she was doing after the first day I saw her sneaking in.  After that I talked to a few others who gave her a key to the employees door in the back.  After that all she had to do was unlock a door then take the elevator to the third floor where her father's room was.  She went on that way for almost two weeks.  When did you sleep?"  She asked with a good natured laugh.  I raised my eyebrows slightly before answering, "I took naps during the day while mother was there with him."
"Did he ever know you were there at night?"  Isabella asked.
"Yes, he woke up a few times to tell me to go home.  But, I couldn't leave him alone that way."  I looked at Matilda intently, "you're not the only person in the world who's ever called me stubborn."
"So after that you two became friends" Matilda went on prying us with questions.
"During that" Isabella answered.  "Her mother and I were the first to get acquainted, talking about the Annual Spring Cotillion being hosted there in Bridge Port; then realized we knew a lot of the same people in the city so her mother began encouraging her to get out of the hospital room for a while to get some fresh air and find something decent to eat.   I recommended the diner and we had lunch."
"I wondered why one of your letters mentioned a handsome young man you had noticed at the hospital one day; then a complete lack of conversation about him in the rest of them."  Matilda gave me a timid smile.  I rolled my eyes knowing she was only hosting a sly laugh behind her remarks.  "Oh, I'm not trying to insult you, to be honest, I just meant that..."
"I know" I answered before she could finish her sentence.  "But it helps keep the snooty old powdery riff raff away and gives me a better opportunity to meet genuinely nice people."  Charles chuckled out loud not even trying to hide his laughter then Isabella and Matilda did too.
"She says the nicest things about me" Matilda playfully chided. 
No more than two seconds later Stogie, Boris and Spike all started to growl.  Boris walked to the hatch in the corner of room sniffing around the boards on the floor.  Charles and I both stood to our feet.  I eased my way softly across the floor to stand near Boris.  The light smell of lantern oil began wafting up into the room where I was standing.  Charles joined me where I stood then eased himself down to the floor where he could place his ear close to the floor.  We looked at each other then he spoke, "when grape bulbs decorate the leaves of a hyacinth's stem."  The low muffled voice of one of our allies responded from underneath, "the water's fit to go to fish but much to cold to swim."   Charles didn't even bother to stand to his feet before he slid back the first latch holding the boarded floor partition in place.  I quickly moved to the other side of him to do the same on the other latches. 

A No Name Nothing Sent to No One