Magic buttons

Liam and Lara liked to ride the city buses. They had the public school bus passes, and those passes were good for rides anywhere the city buses went. Liam and Lara won awards for "most bus rides taken among school children in the 3rd grade," which was a little odd because they walked to school.

This morning they were riding to TPA, known to most people as the Tampa International Airport. It was a nice, slow, easy ride, and they had taken it many times before. They were going to meet their Great Aunt Joan and Great Uncle Mike who were arriving from Harmony, Rhode Island, or as some people from Providence put it, "the end of the earth."

Aunt Joan and Uncle Mike liked to sit in the front of the plane, and this had a simple explanation. Uncle Mike flew planes! If the pilot or co-pilot became disoriented, disinterested, or disabled for whatever reason, Uncle Mike would be ready to step-up and sit-in. Uncle Mike was not a commercial pilot, don't get that idea, and he had never flown anything bigger than a 9-seater, but he was ready, willing, and able. In short, if it could fly, he could fly it.

Aunt Joan was explaining all of this to a lady who was sitting next to her. The lady's husband leaned forward and asked Uncle Mike, "Are you going to the Air Show this weekend?" Uncle Mike said that he was definitely going to the Air Show this weekend, if it was nearby.

"It's right in Tampa, at MacDill Air Base, four miles from downtown."

When the cousins, Liam and Lara, met their Great Aunt and Uncle in the airport terminal, and everybody hugged everybody else, and said "Hello," and 'How was your trip?", and "How is everything going?" Uncle Mike asked the cousins, "Do you want to go to the Air Show?" The kids, speaking together, said, "Sure, tomorrow, but today we ride the bus." The cousins handed Aunt Joan and Uncle Mike two senior citizens bus passes, and they all rode from the airport to the downtown bus station, enjoying the scenic route through neighborhoods and passed city parks. If they had taken a taxi, they would have seen Interstate 275 East, and a hundred roadside advertisements for personal injury lawyers and breast enlargements procedures and pain management clinics; that kind of stuff.

When they arrived at Lara's parent's apartment, the "How was your trip?" chorus began all over again, and Joan and Mike moved into Grandma and Grandpa's bedroom, and Grandma and Grandpa moved into the storage room, where they had a king sized blow-up mattress. Liam's parents had recently moved to Tampa after being released from the State Prison where they had been serving six month for fraud, false pretenses, and uttering (They weren't guilty, of course, but they pleaded "no contest" and served the six months). Liam's parents were sleeping in a spare bedroom, and Liam was sleeping in the closet. Lara's parents had the master bedroom, with their own bath, and Lara was sleeping in the closet in what was now Uncle Mike and Aunt Joan's room. In short, everybody had a nice place to sleep, and all spaces were filled, but, as Grandma said, "There's always room for one-more." She must have been referring to some extra space on the king sized blow-up mattress that she shared with Grandpa.

Before long, it was time for few before-dinner drink, so everybody moved outside to a common picnic area and, later, had a big plateful of sausage and peppers on top of a mound of penne pasta. The cousins took Uncle Mike aside and showed him a satellite photo of MacDill Air Base and planned a route to the Air Show. A city bus passed close to a remote gate, they would enter through that gate, and skip all the traffic associated with an Air Show. Uncle Mike could see that the Gate and the area around it was marked as a Restricted Area. The cousins said that, surely, the area would not be restricted during an Air Show. Uncle Mike had his doubts about this, but the family was onto their after-dinner drinks, and the more Gallo's he drank, the more his doubts faded away, until he just didn't care any more.

Mid-morning, next day, the three of them got off the bus down by the back gate to MacDill Air Base and the Air Show. It was really quiet down there. The sign,"Restricted Area, Keep Out," was 6 feet tall. The gate was locked with a chain as thick as a child's wrist. Uncle Mike was about to suggest that they call a taxi. Lara walked up to the padlock that was holding the chain together, grabbed it with both hands, and gave it a violent tug. One tug, and the lock was open; three seconds later, they were on the other side of the fence.

Uncle Mike thought, 'This is not good," but he kept quiet. Before Uncle Mike had left Rhode Island, Uncle Charlie had told him about the children, "Just be agreeable, and don't talk too much. Everything will work-out fine. Trust me on that!"

Against his better judgment, Uncle Mike followed the children. After a few minutes, he started to get a nature-call and asked the cousins to be on the look-out for a men's room. Liam said, "Let's look in this building. Men's rooms are usually in buildings."

The "Restricted Area" sign on the door was not as large as the one on the gate, but it seemed a lot more official. This doorway had a keypad on the siding, with a sign that spelled out: SECURITY CLEARANCE REQUIRED. Lara tried the door, Liam tried the keypad, the door opened. In fairness, it was not that simple. Liam had pulled a small, smooth stone from his pocket, the stone was as white as milk. Liam seemed to read something off the smooth surface while saying the words, "What is the code to this keypad? STARLIGHT-STARBRIGHT!" Uncle Mike said to himself, 'What the heck was that all about?'

As predicted, there was a Men's Room in the building, and Mike headed towards it. First things first.

Liam and Lara were a little concerned about Uncle Mike because he seemed to have a serious look on his face, but when he came out of the Men's Room, Uncle Mike looked like his happier self. Lara nodded her head, "Yes," to her cousin, and Liam nodded his head, "Yes," in return. The cousins were standing by this needle-looking vehicle, and Uncle Mike asked them, "What is that?"

"It's a plane."

"It couldn't be a plane," he told them

"There is an operator's manual here that says this is a plane, a stealth plane. Let's get in, Uncle Mike. You sit up front where the pilot sits." It all seemed so harmless at the time.

Mike looked around. No matter what the manual called this "needle," it could not fly: no wings, no tail, no controls, just a few buttons. Mike saw Lara's hand reach over his shoulder towards a button that said, "Start." Uncle Mike was 100% sure that this thing could not fly, but he was also 100% sure that nobody should push the Start button until she knew exactly what was about to get started. He was half-way through saying, "Don't push that button!", when Lara did just that: she pushed the Start button, and simultaneously, a cover shot over their heads, seemingly from nowhere, and the "needle" jumped 4-feet off the ground, and the plane darted through a small opening in the building and up to the sky. Whoa, maybe it was not a plane, but it COULD fly. Mike whispered to himself, 'I don't think she should have done that.' Next, Mike started flipping through the operator's manual, looking for the part about landing, while the kids were saying, "Whoop-EEEE! Fly it, Uncle Mike, fly it!" Oh, to be young again.

Uncle Mike could see Lara's hand coming over his shoulder again, and he thought, 'She is going to push the Eject button? Oh, no!', but she was reaching for a button that was labelled, "Elevate," and before he could stop her, Lara hit the Elevate button and sent them away from Earth, headed in the direction the moon at race pace. Then, Liam started hitting buttons, and they went left and right and up and down. One minute they were over Tampa Bay and a few minutes later they were over Milledgeville, Georgia, then they were headed in the direction of the moon again, and then they were going to CRASH. Uncle Mike did not care anymore, all his caring was gone, he was two steps behind whatever was going on. Before he could say, "Don't!", one or both of those little cousins had pressed a button and then another one. He thought he was beyond caring, but he proved himself wrong because a light started flashing that said, "Fuel Empty." He yelled into the air, "We are out of fuel." They were pointed straight-up. He saw a hand reach over his shoulder, and instead of hitting yet another button, the hand started to pat him on the chest.

"Don't worry, Uncle Mike," then she hit a small button that Uncle Mike had not seen before, "Land."

Maybe he blinked, or maybe he passed-out, he was not sure, but in what seemed like the blink of an eye, they were back where they started from. The cover retracted, they stepped out, and they were on solid earth again.

Liam asked, "Do you want to see if we can refuel, and do it all over again." Uncle Mike's gave him a look that had no expression in it, and Liam said, "Maybe that's enough for one day."

Lara said, "Maybe it is."

Liam asked, "Uncle Mike, do you want something to drink? There is a drinks tent near-bye."

Before Uncle Mike could get his thoughts together, Lara said, "I think maybe he does. We were up there a long time."

They ducked under a VIP tape and went to a courtesy tent where the host was serving free beer. Uncle Mike was not a beer drinker, but he knew how to do it, so he requested three beers and drank all three of them. A good looking hostess came by and asked, "Another round?"

Liam said, "If you don't mind." That was how Uncle Mike came to drink six beers in five minutes. After that, he was having a little difficulty walking straight, so they called for a taxi, which was free if you were having a little difficulty walking as a result of your time in the beer tent. Later, Uncle Mike seemed to remember that somebody touched him with a magic wand, and said the words, "Stardust."

Sometimes it is difficult to tell what is real and what is a dream. In fact, if you are paying attention, most of the time it is difficult to tell what is real. Uncle Mike found himself in that position in the morning.

Uncle Mike woke up in his bed with Aunt Joan lying beside him. "Joan, I just had this crazy dream. I was flying a needle, and the cousins were pushing buttons, and...."

"Arggg," she said.

"I've got to get up and go to the Air Show with those kids."

"Arggg," she said again. "That was yesterday. You already went."

"What?"

"You came home smelling like a brewery. The kids said you got dehydrated and stopped at a beer tent to 'fill-up!' You came home in a taxi. Remember?"

Mike was quiet for a long time, and then he just jumped out of bed. "I've got to talk to those kids."

When Uncle Mike approached the cousins, he could see the look of innocence on their faces, too innocent. He had used that face a few times when he was their age and a few times since. "Did we take a ride on a stealth needle plane, or did I just dream it?"

"Maybe you just dreamed it," she said without changing the look of innocence on her face.

"Maybe you did," Liam added, barefaced."

"You are not going to tell me, are you?", he said to them.

"Tell what?"

The other one said the same think, "Tell what?"

"About riding the needle!"

"What needle?"

The other one said the same thing "What needle?"

Uncle Mike looked at them. "Was it was all a dream?"

Little Liam said, "Maybe it WAS all a dream."

Little Lara said, "Maybe it was."

Uncle Mike scratched his head and rubbed his chin. "It sure seemed real..., but..., it seems unreal, too. What a dream!

A short while later during the midday news, the news reader made the spectacular report of unidentified jet trails observed during the air show at MacDill Air Base, YESTERDAY. Tens of thousands of people had witnessed jet trails during the show, but no planes or rockets had been detected. National Security investigators were in Tampa reviewing tapes and interviewing witnesses. The public was asked to phone the Investigators' Hot Line if they had any information about this event.

Uncle Mike watched Lara tap the numbers into the phone and wait a long time. Finally he heard her say, "Those white streaks were not made by planes or rockets, they were made by ducks' feathers. Hundreds of white ducks were passing through Tampa yesterday during the Air Show, and the air streams left by the jet planes just ripped the feathers right off those ducks' backs, and it was the ducks' feathers that made the white streaks you photographed!

"Ducks' feathers?"

"Yes, my cousin and I saw a lot of featherless ducks waddling all over the place in south Tampa."

"Hold-on, I need my supervisor to hear this."

Lara held on to the phone, and the supervisor came on the line, and she repeated the explanation, and he said, "Ducks' feathers?" Then he said, "Hold-on, I need the investigator-in-charge to hear this."

Lara held on to the phone, and the investigator-in-charge came on the line, and she repeated the explanation, and he said, "Ducks' feathers? Ducks' feathers? Where the hell are those ducks now?"

"It is hard to say, they just flew away, headed north. Ducks do not need feathers to fly, everybody knows that. Maybe the ducks are in Georgia by now."

Uncle Mike did not say a word, but he sure was thinking a few words, putting 'two and two together,' as they say.

A short while later, the news reader interrupted the show to report that the mystery of the jet trails had been investigated and solved. What appeared to be jet trails to the observers on the ground had actually been ducks' feathers that had been caught in air streams. According to the investigator-in-charge, the featherless ducks had been found in Georgia and taken to Washington, D.C. for further investigation and treatment."

Uncle Mike scratched his head and rubbed his chin, and then he said, "Now I know I'm dreaming." Then he added, "Uncle Charlie told me I was going to like you two. Is there any place else you two would like to go?"

" China!", they both said it together.

"China? Why in the world do you want to go to China?"

"To play Chinese Checkers, of course."

Uncle Mike threw his arms into the air, "Of course." Then he added, "You better call Uncle Charlie; he was the Wyman Elementary School Chinese Checkers Champion in 1941, seventy years ago. He still has the trophy sitting on top of his television set. Phone him; I think he will be ready for another adventure, and..., he loves Ramen noodles!"

"He loves refried beans, too."

Second Honeymoon in Mexico

In 1952, Charlie was a soldier at Fort Bliss in El Paso, Texas, all thanks to the U. S. Government's military draft.  Charlie was getting sorrowfully lonely living away from family and friends in Warwick Downs, Rhode Island. He was not only sorrowfully lonely, he was worried about who was keeping company with his girlfriend back home.   Charlie was by nature a restless sleeper, and he had plenty to worry about concerning the girl he left behind because she was very pretty.  Thoughts about who she might be seeing kept him awake most of the night every night.

Now it was well known among those who had been drafted into the U. S. Army that there were a few ways of getting an early release from the Army.  There was the Band-Aid Man who had band-aids all over his body: face, neck, torso, even places where the sun did not shine.  He said, when asked, that the band-aids were to keep bugs from worming their way into his body.  It took him a few months, but the Army finally sent Band-Aid Man home to his momma.  There was Cat Man who fed and talked to an imaginary cat.  He kept that up for months, stinking cat food littered the place.  The Army helped him pack and sent him home to his momma.  Then there was Limp Man, who said a part of his body was no longer working.  He would take the body part out of his pants to inspect it and to get the opinions of others.  When he chanced to ask the opinion of his commanding officer, who was a woman, he was sent home that very day.  Of course, all of these were medical problems.

None of these disabilities seemed to fit Charlie's situation.  There was another way out, convince the Chaplin that you should be sent home under a program they called, "Early Out."  So, that evening, Charlie asked to have a meeting with the Catholic Chaplain. The old priest had dealt with soldiers' problems for years.  There was nothing the old priest had not heard.  He knew all the problems and all the solutions, and he delivered the solutions bluntly, and, oh, the Catholic Chaplain had never recommended an "Early Out" in his 35-years of service to God and Country for anybody no matter what.  After hearing that Charlie wanted an Early Out, the old priest told Charlie that there was not going to be an Early Out, so, he should just get that idea out of his head--NO EARLY OUT, he bellowed. 

Then the priest got down to business.  "Before some other fellow takes your place, tell your girlfriend up in Warwick Downs, Rhode Island to come on down to El Paso, Texas, to be your lawfully wedded wife.  I'll marry the two of you.  'Til death to you part!"

When Charlie was leaving the building, he heard the old priest slam down his prayer book and mumble,"God, where does the army find these pecker-heads?"

Charlie called back in a voice that was not his own, "WARICK DOWNS, RHODE ISLAND."

Charlie was smart enough to hurry out of the chapel and then to follow the old priest's instructions, and, well, those are the true events that got Patricia-Ann to travel to El Paso, Texas, to become Charlie's lawfully wedded wife. 

One morning, 60-years later, Charlie and Pat were sitting in their kitchen having breakfast together, which they did every morning. Every morning Charlie would ask Pat, "Pat..., what would you like to have for breakfast?", and every morning Pat would answer, "Charlie, you always ask that.  You know I want to have tea for two and two toasted tea cakes."

This morning, on their 60th anniversary, things were strangely different. First, Charlie found the newspaper on his front step unlike other mornings when the carrier threw the paper into the yard, any place far from the doorway. Second, the gout in Pat's big toe was gone, completely gone, after a painful four weeks. Third, strangest of all, before she was asked what she wanted for breakfast, Pat said, "Today, I'll make the breakfast.  What would you like?  How about oatmeal with milk and brown sugar on top?"

Charlie thought, "Well knock me over with a feather!" He didn't say anything; he just went back to reading his paper, but all the changes going on this morning got Charlie to itching an itch that could not be scratched. He put down his newspaper and said, "Pat, it's time we had a second honeymoon."

Pat said, "Charlie, I was just about to say the same thing.  What about a second honeymoon in El Paso, Texas?"

He said, "I didn't see THAT coming!"

So, after she fixed the oatmeal, Charlie, who loved to do computer searches, began searching for the best deal to El Paso, Texas, but there were no best deals to El Paso, Texas. There were, however, very best deals to Juarez, Mexico, right across the border from El Paso. Don't ask me how he did it, but he found a hotel room for $39.95 a night with breakfast included, and flights for $99.99, "ida y vuelta" (round trip), which involve three different airlines, the final leg of the flight was on a six-seat commuter plane from Mexicali.  They didn't even need a passport to enter Mexico on these flights, all they needed were credit cards.

The flight from Mexicali took-off from a grass covered airstrip and landed on a grass covered airstrip outside Juarez, Mexico. A van transported the honeymooners to a colorful hotel inside the city limits. The hotel was named, "Feliz Casa." Everybody was happy, but not for long.

Charlie and Pat went to register for their room, and the driver said he would put their luggage in their room, which he did not do.  He put the luggage in a storage room in the back of the hotel.  Once Charlie and Pat provided all the information required, and there was a lot of information that was required, they were told that they were now being held for ransom, $30,000 dollars for either one of them or $50,000 for the pair.

Thoughts were racing through Pat's head. Back when she was a newly wed in El Paso, Texas, Pat worked in a department store. There was a Mexican women who worked with her, Maria.  Pat thought that the leader of the ransom gang looked a lot like the woman. Of course, that was 60 years ago, but worth a try. Pat asked, "Hombre (Mexican for man, she remembered), did you have an abuela (Mexican for grandmother, she remembered) named Maria who worked in a grandes almacenes (department store) in El Paso, Texas, in 1952? We were las amigas."

"Si," and his eyes narrowed, "but I never liked her. She used to beat me," and then he spit on the ground.

"Oh." Pat felt the wind go out of her, but now it was Charlie's turn to remember, and he remembered his U.S. Army training, something similar to: when you are captured by the enemy, be agreeable and don't say too much. "So, senor bandito, what can we do for YOU to make your day better?", he asked in a pleasant voice.

"Make the call, hand the phone to me."

Charlie took Pat's mobile phone and studied the directory.  Charlie was asking himself, 'Who would have that kind of money, and who would send $30,000 to Mexico to get me released or $50,000 to get Pat released with me?' His eyes kept returning to Pat's nephew's number in Tampa, Florida. On an impulse, he highlighted the Tampa number and pressed SEND.

Pat and Charlie did not know this at the time, but this was a big weekend for Pat's nephew and his family. He and his wife had just been released from the State Prison after serving 6 month for fraud, false pretenses, and uttering. (Just to keep things straight, they were not guilty. They pleaded NO CONTEST and did the prison time, but that's another story.)

The parents (of Liam) and the parents (of Lara) had been out late the night before and into the early hours of the morning, partying at Ybor City, dancing the Rumba and drinking sangria. They were so deep into sleep that the fire alarm would not have made it into their dreams. The cousins were watching the Discovery Channel on a super sized, flat screen TV. Then, the call came through.

When the call numbers flashed on the TV screen, Liam said, "Hey, that's a Rhode Island number!"

When the caller ID flashed on the TV, Lara said, "Hey, that's our Great-Aunt, Pat."

When the GPS located the call, they both said, "What the heck..., Aunt Pat is calling from Juarez, Mexico!" The TV screen went to a satellite image, and Liam and Lara were looking at an overhead image of "Feliz Casa." A little blinking light indicated that the call was coming from Room Number Ocho.

The kids each said their, "Hello," and "Hello," and the bandido said his, "Hello," and delivered his bad news about the ransom demands of $30,000 for either one of them, Pat or Charlie, or $50,000 for both. None of this was bad news for Liam and Lara, who were getting sick-and-tired of watching the Discovery Channel.

While Liam was agreeing with the conditions about how to wire the money that would complete the transfer, Lara had already booked two tickets to El Paso, Texas, and four return tickets to Tampa, Florida. She printed the boarding passes, and phoned for a taxi. As was her custom, whenever she was taking an unannounced trip, she wrote a note to her parents: "We have gone to Juarez, Mexico, to help Aunt Pat and Uncle Charlie get on a return flight to Tampa. We will be back soon. DON'T WORRY."

On the way out the door, Liam grabbed their school bus passes, which were "government issued photo IDs," and he picked up Grandma and Grandpa's passports. He slipped them into his shirt pocket. They closed the doors to the taxi, and they were gone.

Liam and Lara had nothing if they did not have a sense of adventure, so as soon as they landed, they caught a taxi to a taco stand and had two "carne de puerco" tacos. This was not a randomly selected taco stand; this stand occupied a space directly in front of La Paz Elementary School. It was a well know fact that the State of Texas ran school buses into the City of Juarez, Mexico, to pickup school children and carry them to school in El Paso. Then, the great State of Texas returned the children home at the end of the day. All of this is described on the Internet, and Liam and Lara read all about it this morning, complete with transportation maps.

When the bus left the school that day to return the children to Juarez, Liam and Lara were on it. The second stop on the Mexican side of the world was 100 feet from the door to Room Number Ocho at the Feliz Casa Hotel. They skipped to the door, which was locked from the outside with the key still in the lock, they unlocked the door and opened it and Liam sang-out, "Are you ready for some tacos?"

Pat and Charlie both rubbed their eyes and then rubbed them again, "Liam and Lara?"

"Aunt Pat. Uncle Charlie. Let's go get some "carne de puerco" tacos. Then we are flying to Tampa."

"Did you pay the ransom for both of us?", Charlie wanted to know.

"Maybe I'll mail it to them. Everybody is taking a nap.  That's what they do around here in the afternoon, but I've got a taxi driver to take us to the airport in El Paso.  Let's go."

"What about our luggage?  We had those suitcases since the day we were married.  I'm not about to get new ones at this stage of the game."

"I'll take care of that." Liam had a little talk with the taxi driver and then watched the taxi driver walk to the rear of Feliz Casa. In the time it would take him to turn around, the taxi driver returned with two suitcases and put them in the trunk of the taxi. Liam told the driver to stop at the Taco Stand by La Paz Elementary school. He wanted to get to the taco stand before the lady closed up for the day.

Liam and Lara had two more tacos each, and Pat and Charlie had three each, their appetites improved once they accepted that they were going to honeymoon in Tampa, and, oh, Charlie or Pat (you will know which one later in the story) ordered a plate of refried beans, which had been flavored with pig's fat and  chilli peppers. Charlie and Pat both thought that the little kids were just a lot of fun talking in Mexican and then in English and then to each other in some other language, which Pat and Charlie later learned was Farsi.

Pat said to Charlie, "It must be great to be a kid."

Charlie said, "Some kids, yes; some kids, no." Charlie was a retired teacher, so he would know. Then he added, "These kids..., yes."

The taxi had made the crossing into the U.S. bypassing any immigrations check points, which taxis did on all their trips.  Pat said, "Hey, maybe that's how people get into the U. S. illegally."

Charlie said, "Some take a taxi, some just walk.", and now, we are getting to the end of this story, but we are not quite there, yet.

When they arrived at the airport and were passing through security, the security guard checked the children's bus passes with hardly a look, but when he looked at Grandma and Grandpa's Passports and looked at Aunt Pat and Uncle Charlie, he did a double take. He looked at the passports, and he looked at the Aunt and Uncle a few times, and began to scratch his head. He put Grandpa's photo up aside Aunt Pat's face and said, "This looks like you." Now, Grandpa and Aunt Pat were brother and sister, and they shared a strong family resemblance, which, no doubt, was spotted by the trained eye of the transportation security guard.

Liam watched the guard's finger creep toward a red button with the word, ALERT, written under it. "They have had sex change operations!" Liam said to the guard in a loud whisper, "both of them.  Grandma used to be Grandpa, and Grandpa used to be Grandma."

The guard gave-out a whisper, "Holy Mother of God," and he waved the four of them through the gate." 

The flight from El Paso went very well. The flight attendant seemed to take a liking to Uncle Charlie and Liam, and he brought them extra bags of peanuts and extra drinks, grape soda for Liam and orange soda for Uncle Charlie. The flight home was going very well for everyone concerned, but then Uncle Charlie started to lean forward in his seat; he stopped talking and started humming.  Well, at first Liam though he was humming, but then the noise sounded more like a gurgling.  It was gurgling, and Uncle Charlie was half on the seat and half on his toes, and he was motionless, frozen in place.

Here was the problem.  Uncle Charlie could not hold-in the effects of pig fat, which had been part of the refried beans he had eaten at the taco stand--two plates.  Now, here was the other part of the problem.  There was turbulence, and the pilot had  announced stay in your seat, and he put-on the "fasten your seat belt sign." 

A lesser person might have made a run for the toilet and tried to evade the flight attendants on the way, but Uncle Charlie was not one to break the rules.  After all, he had been a teacher for 30-years, which was 30-years of enforcing rules.  Uncle feet started to dance up-and-down.

Liam, who was wise beyond his years, and he knew better than to ask his uncle if he were "all-right," Liam simply asked, "Do you need some help?" Once Liam understood the problem, he pulled-out his moon rock,, and he rubbed his palm across the rock.  The turbulence stopped, the fasten your seat belt sign went out, and Charlie was race walking to the back of the plane.

As he passed Aunt Pat, she called to him, "Charlie. Charlie, are you all-right?"  She thought he might have said something about the Almighty. 

Aunt Pat called again toward the closed toilet door, "Charlie, Charlie."  Aunt Pat caught the attention of the flight attendant, and said, "I don't think he is all-right."  The flight attendants became concerned. You could hear them knocking on the door and talking to Charlie through the closed door.

Charlie hollared, "Stand back.  Don't open the door!"  Finally, the attendants opened the door, and you could hear the toilet flush, and one of the attendants asked him if he had been smoking Italian cigars in there. Charlie returned to his seat. Pat asked him, "Charlie are you feeling all-right?"

"I'm feeling great, just great, what about yourself?"

Pat said, "I'd better take a widdle before we land."

Charlie said, "You better give that toilet a chance to air-out a bit, Pat."  After 60 years of marriage, she knew what he meant.  Pat watched another lady enter the toilet, and come right out again So, Pat waited a few extra minutes.

The flight attendant arrived with more drinks and peanuts, and Liam had the "usual" and Charlie declined, saying he was, "Good."

The plane landed, the taxi ride home was short, and when Liam and Lara opened the door, they found that the parents were just now waking up from their sleep. Lara mentioned to the Great Aunt and Great Uncle, "Let's not say anything about Juarez, Mexico, and El Paso, Texas to the parents.  They get worried when Liam and I take our trips."  Then Lara announced, "Look who is here, Aunt Pat and Uncle Charlie, we went to the airport to pick them up!"

In the excitement that followed, Lara retrieved the note she had written to the parents and put it in her pocket. She was learning that sometimes it is better not to call attention to yourself, even if you are the smartest person in the room (not counting her cousin.)

At that moment, Grandpa and Grandma came through the door. Grandpa kissed Pat on the cheek and shook Charlie's hand and when the excitement died down a bit, Grandpa said, "Let's have a little drink to celebrate!"

"To celebrate what, Grandpa?"

"We are going to celebrate..., that we have something to drink."

"I'll drink to that."

"Me, too.  What an anniversary!"

Aunt Pat turned to Charlie and said, "Isn't is all a lot of fun. We should have taken our second honeymoon sooner."

"All's well that ends well."

Magic in The Air

Liam and Lara had eaten 12 hot dogs between them, drank a case of soda, and had taken a half-dozen swims; it was the day before the 4th of July, celebrated pool-side in the heat of Tampa, Florida. Liam's parents were serving time in the State Prison for fraud, uttering, and false pretenses, so he was spending some time with his cousin, Lara, and his Aunt and Uncle and his Grandpa and Grandma.

The adults had a hot dog, each, but what they really liked was the bucketful of fried clams, and a lot to drink. Poppa drank most of a case of beer, and he zigzagged when he walked. Grandpa had rum and coke until all the rum was gone. He was not much for putting the cap back on a bottle once it was opened. Momma and Grandma had been drinking a bottle of Spanish sparkling wine, and when they emptied that one they popped the cork on another. Momma and Grandma were very loud, but you could not understand a word they were saying, and they were laughing their as_es off. Other people at the pool were looking at them. Finally all four heads rolled back in their lounge chairs, and they were asleep, as in dead-to-the-world.

Poppa's mobile phone started to play "A whole lot of love," and he was in no state to answer it. Liam looked at Lara and said, "Maybe it is a call for us." Lara said, "Maybe it is."

Liam popped the phone open, and called into the air, "Hello. You are on the speaker."

"Who is this?"

"Who is this?"

"Who are you?"

"Who are you?"

"Liam? Lara? This is your Great-Aunt Joan..., from Rhode Island. I've called to wish everyone a happy day before the 4th of July. Is your poppa there? I'd like to talk to him."

"He's here, but he can't talk."

The other one said, "His head has rolled back; he is dead-to-the-world."

"How about Grandpa and Grandma?" Grandpa was Great-Aunt Joan's brother.

"Same. Head rolled back; dead-to-the-world."

"Momma?"

"Same..., head rolled back, eyes rolling around in her head, and she is not saying word to anybody about anything."

"Humm. Well, okay, it must be the heat. You kids should come up and see me sometime."

"Is it cool in Rhode Island, Aunt Joan, I heard that it was?"

"Yes, it is cool compared to Tampa, Florida. Maybe the heat got to your Momma and Poppa and Grandpa and Grandpa."

"Maybe it did."

"Come up and see me."

"We will, Aunt Joan."

The kids were quiet for awhile. Then Liam asked, "Do you think we should go pack?"

"Yes, we should. Take one or two of the credit cards your father gave you before they put him away," and she wrote a little note, "Gone to see Aunt Joan. See you later. Don't worry!"

They got to the Greyhound Bus Station, stood on tip-toes and said, "Two tickets to Rhode Island."

The lady behind the counter looked down at them. "Negative. It would take you three days to get to Rhode Island on the bus. Take the train; it is a lot faster, and it's cheaper, too."

"Okay."

"Okay."

They got on a city bus, showed their school bus passes, and rode to the train station. Lara stood in front of the ticket-agent and requested two tickets to Rhode Island.

The man behind the counter had thick glasses, he looked at them for the longest time, as if he were trying to get them in focus, and told them in a slow voice, "It will take you two days to get to Rhode Island on the train. You should take a plane; it will be a lot quicker, and it's cheaper, too."

"Okay."

"Okay."

They got on another city bus, showed their school bus passes, and rode to the airport.

Liam got up on his tip-toes and requested two ticket to Rhode Island, and slapped his Poppa's credit card on the counter.

"Hey, how old are you kids?"

"How old do we have to be to get the tickets."

"You need to be 16."

"We're 16."

"You look about 8."

Lara said, "That's a good laugh, but we have to hurry to get the flight. Just the tickets, please. Hold the jokes."

"You need government issued photo IDs"

They slapped their school bus passes on the counter.

The man looked at the bus passes, "Hey, it says here that you two are in the 3rd grade.

"We are slow, AND we are short. Now hurry-up with those tickets before you are charged with discrimination against slow, short people."

Soon they were sitting on the plane, First Class.

About the time the plane was racing down the runway, Momma rolled over onto the note Lara had pinned to Momma's sundress, and she was stuck in the chest by a common pin. "Ouch! What in the world...," she said. Then when she read the note she jumped up, and she instantly became dizzy and toppled on top of Poppa, who said, "Ouch! What in the world...," and when he read the note, he said, "What the heck...."

Grandma was in the best shape of the four of them at the moment because she had lots of practice drinking during the day. She got out her mobile phone and tapped in the numbers for the bus station. "Have two children been there looking to catch the bus to Rhode Island?"

"Affirmative."

"What? Are they on the bus already?"

"Negative. I advised them to take the train, and they left on a city bus to the train station."

The next voice was slower, the man with the coke-bottle glasses, "Train station. Dave speaking."

Grandma heard from Dave about his "Take a plane" advice, and after she finally got off the phone with Dave, Grandma had the ticket seller from the airport on the phone, and yes, the two short and slow children from the 3rd grade were in the air, flying in First Class to Providence, Rhode Island.

With that settled, Grandma's last call was to Aunt Joan, and, "Yes," Aunt Joan would meet the plane and take good care of the little darlings, and, "No," she would not be giving them a piece-of Grandma's-mind, and "Yes," she would be taking them to the fireworks, and "No," she would not put them back on a plane alone, so, the Tampa crowd had better splash some cold water on their heads and get to the airport.

So, Poppa and Momma and Grandpa and Grandma got on the next plane to Rhode Island, went to the fireworks that night, had a 4th of July picnic at the State Beach the next day, got sunburned, and all six of the Florida crowd were back on the plane heading back to Tampa where they could enjoy the heat and humidity. All's well that ends well, except that was not the end of the story.

The end of the story had to do with the bucketful of fried clams from the day before. Poppa and Momma and Grandpa and Grandma loved those fried clams, but the fried clams did not love them. They were not a half-hour into the flight when the clam-gas started to work its way through their tubes, seeking a way out into the open. Now, you might have thought that they could just squeeze their cheeks together and hold the gas in-place until the flight was over. That is not how clam-gas works.

Lara watched as Momma gripped the arm rests and lifted herself an inch or two above the seat. "Here they come," Lara whispered to her cousin. These are the "winds" that people refer to as 'silent but deadly.' The stink that the four of them put into that plane would have put a dozen skunks to shame. Sewer gases smelled sweet by comparison.

As Lara put it, "It smell like something crawled up into their butts and died." Momma threw Lara a look that would have maimed a weaker child.

First, the people on the plane started complaining and looking around at each other with looks that were saying, "It's you! I know its you!" Wives were looking at husbands, and some were saying, "It's not me. I'm telling you, it's not me!"

A little kid started retching and upchucking, then, some other people chimed in, and, then, the Flight Attendants were retching and heaving. Liam said the stink could have peeled the paint right off of the walls. Grandma, who had lifted herself an inch or two above the seat, threw Liam a look that could have peeled the skin right off of his nose.

The gas worked its way into the cockpit. The pilot and co-pilot were gagging and then they lost their lunches and called-in a Mayday..., Mayday. The plane had to make an emergency landing in New York City. The fire engines showed-up and people in hazmat suits got on the plane, and the hazmat people helped everybody off the plane, and all were given oxygen from steel bottles. Nobody complained any louder about the "stink bombs" than Grandpa. Of course, nobody could have out-done Grandpa in the bad gas department. He was a man among men when it came to dropping the silent-but-deadly bomb. He had been warned and then barred for life from Casey's Bar for dropping "stink-bombs" after eating fried clams.

Thank goodness, just like a bad case of "the winds," this story moves on.

Everyone from the plane was put-up at a very nice hotel, food vouchers, mini-bars, white cotton bath robes, the works. The people from the plane were advised to "air-out" their clothing, so the Tampa family went down to Chinatown and walked around. The people in Chinatown who had dead ducks hanging in their windows seemed to like the odor of the Tampa clan. There was a lot of smiling and bowing going on. Liam and Lara took an instant liking to Chinese people, and some of them told Liam and Lara that they should visit China.

Well that was the day, and that was the night. Everybody got aired-out walking around Chinatown, slept like babies, and woke-up ready for a day that was even better than the day before. The plane checked-out okay; there was no explanation for the origins of the "Noxious Gases," but Homeland Security was continuing the investigation, and air samples taken from the plane were being sent to an FBI lab for analysis.

Now here may be the best part of the end of the story. Because of the inconvenience caused by the noxious gases incident, everybody on the flight was given a voucher for a round-trip ticket to anywhere the airline and their partners flew. Liam and Lara were nodding their heads and smiling at each other in a way that could not have been understood by others. At home that night, Momma and Poppa and Grandma and Grandpa were watching television, relaxing, having a drink or two. Then the four of them nodded off into a deep sleep.

Liam and Lara were reading airlines' schedules on their notebook computers.

Liam asked, "Do you think we should go pack?"

"We should. Take one or two of those credit cards your father gave you before they put him away. I'll write the note," and she wrote a little note, "Gone to China. See you later. Don't worry."

We are not separate from God.

God is not one of us, but do not worry about this, worrying does not help.  I would not recommend that anybody try to understand God. 

If our prayers are prayers of thankfulness, then good. If our prayers ask God to change things, remember this: God is not going to change the Universe to accommodate our prayers. Prayers work best when they are prayers of thankfulness. Praying may help the person who prays to feel better and to be better, then again, maybe not. Praying may help the group that prays to feel better and to be better, then again, maybe not.

When able-thinking people ponder the meaning of God, time-after-time they discover that God is a name for all that exists. That is what the Catholic nuns were saying when they said God is omnipresent, omnipotent. God is not the creator of all that exists, God is all that exists.  

Simply, God does not exist separate from existence, God IS existence. God is not one of us, but we are a very small, temporary part of God. We may be very important to ourselves, and we may be very important to some other people. Are we important to God? The question is irrelevant because we are not separate from God. All praise be to God. Know thyself. Be happy.

Sugar Puts Magic in the Pancakes

Momma had come home early from work today to cook because Poppa was going to bring his boss home for dinner, to "cheer him up." The boss' name is Jim, and his cat got run-over and was squished all over the road. The cat's name was Jim, too. Jim said that Jim was his best friend--if that makes any sense to anybody.

My name is Larissa, and I am six-years-old. Don't let that bother you. It doesn't bother me one bit even though some people keep bringing it up. I am related to Da, but he does not figure into the story at all.  So, don't look here for any information about him.

So far, you have heard about Momma and Papa and Jim and Larissa (that's me) and Da.  Let's leave Da out of the story and get back to Momma.  Momma took two pizzas out of  the freezer and a tray of chicken wings. She put them in the oven and turned it on HIGH. Then she went to read whatever there was to read on the computer. Bye-the-bye, the smoke detector started to shriek. "Shriek, shriek, shriek, shriek," what an annoying noise, but Momma did not hear it, because she was wearing a head-set. Ninety-four times out of a hundred, Momma is nice, but she does not like to be interrupted when she is talking on the telephone or when she is "on" the computer. (Momma is never really "on" the computer; she is just sitting in front of the computer. She just says that she is on the computer. I think she has problems with prepositions, but I am "only" six-years-old, so I am not going to give Momma a lesson about the proper use of prepositions.)

This, however, was no time to spare anybody's feelings. I got between Momma and the computer and told her that black smoke was coming from the oven and that the smoke alarm was sounding-off.

Momma said, "Glory be to the father and the son and the holy ghost..." Then she ran to the oven and said, "Holy shit," and shut the oven off. She grabbed a mitt, which was pink and blue, my favorite colors, and opened the oven door. The pizzas were black and black, and the smoke coming from them was black and black. The chicken wings were on fire, and they were going crackle-crackle-crackle. Momma threw baking soda on the chicken wings, and then the fire went out.

"The dinner is ruined," she said, and then she said it again, but I said, "Don't worry, Momma. You just go sit in that soft chair and read your magazine. I'll fix us a dinner."

"But, you are only six-years-old."

I hear that a lot, but I said, "Don't let that bother you, Momma. It doesn't bother me a bit."

About that time, Poppa and Jim came through the front door, and Poppa said, "Smells good, whatever it is." Momma was about to say something, but I shook my head at her and whispered that I was going to get her a glass of sherry. Well, everybody said Hello to everybody else, and before they knew it, I had put glasses of beer in Poppa and Jim's hands and sherry in Momma's.

Then I started to make the pancake batter, which does not take a minute to do. Now, here is the extra that I do to the pancake batter (my secret, but I'll let my readers know:) I add a cup of cottage cheese and a cup of sour cream and a cup of sugar to the mix. Get the pan really hot, but not smoking hot like the pizzas and chicken wings. I add blueberries and raspberries to the cakes in the pan, put a shake or two of salt on top and a pinch or two of sugar, and there you are: even cranky people love these pancakes. (Hint: It's the extra sugar that puts the magic into those pancakes.)

So, it was two more beers for Poppa and Jim and another sherry for Momma, and we were eating those pancakes as fast as they came out of the pan. Jim said, "Those were the best damn pancakes I ever ate." Poppa and Momma do not like to say too many good things about me because, you guessed it, I'm "only" six-years-old, but I could see them shaking their heads in the affirmative, and they both ate enough pancakes to make their belly-buttons pop out.

There was one pancake left, and everybody was beyond full. I asked, "What shall I do with this last pancake?"

We have this little dog, a yellow dog, and he is so small he could fit in your shirt pocket. His name is, Whackyola. Whenever people are walking around he stays in a corner, so he doesn't get stepped-on. I could see Whackyola over in the corner looking at the pancake. He was wagging his tail so hard that his whole body was wagging. His tongue was hanging our of his mouth and spit was dripping from it.  He looked stupid, but I was not going to say that out loud. So I said in a way he could understand, "How about if I give the last pancake to the dog?"

Whackyola gave out a whoop, jumped up in the air, and then he jumped up again. Now, that was a dog that surely appreciated my pancakes, no matter what Momma and Poppa did not say.

It was getting late, and nobody had said anything about Jim's dead cat, Jim. So, I said, "Jim, I heard your cat got run-over and was squished all over the road. That must have made quite a mess!" Momma jumped between me and Jim, and Poppa jumped between Momma and Jim and me, and Poppa said, "Larissa...."

Well, you can see for yourself, I have a Momma who does not use her prepositions properly and a Poppa who does not finish his sentences.

Nobody has to tell me when it is time to go to bed. So, I headed right to bed.  Later, when it was quiet in the house, I heard Poppa say, "Those pancakes were damn-sure good. How do you think she does it?"

Momma said, "I have no idea, but they damn-sure were good, and she is only...."

"Don't let it bother you, Momma. It doesn't bother me one bit."

"Quiet in there!"

"Yea, quiet in there."

"Okay." I went back to writing in my book, under the covers, with a flashlight in one hand and a pen in the other. That is how come you were able to read this story about putting sugar in the pancakes.  As for the parts about 'she is only six-years-old,' don't let it bother you. It doesn't bother me one damned bit.

The Children See a Ghost

Among the tall stalks of elderberry and sassafras, deeply rutted footpaths lead from house to house and then to a paved road. Back in time, the Indians had named this place Ah-Wah, "The Place where Ghosts Walk." When the English move into the area, they named the place, "The Downs."

Doors were left unlocked by day, but at night, doors were locked to keep the ghosts out. Well, that was a superstition that the people in The Downs held in common. On this particular night, Mrs. Bucklin had left her back door open, and, in truth, the door was open no more than a crack in order to let a little cool air into the house. An open door at night in The Downs would have heads shaking, but Mr. Bucklin had complained of the heat in the house, and, in addition, he was not feeling well. And..., it was Christmas.

The footpath that passed by the Bucklin's door was travelled in the night by an hurtful ghost named Dudingston. Dudingston was a tormentor; he would enter the body that had a broken bone, and he would torment the poor soul with doubts and a disagreeable temperament. Just moments after the daylight was gone, Dudingston slithered into the house and took a place close to Bucklin. The evil spirit could only enter a body that had a broken bone, and Dudingston had sensed that there was a broken bone in Bucklin's body. The ghost had sensed it well, Bucklin was a house painter, and he had cracked a bone in his foot while stepping down from a ladder yesterday.

About the time the evil ghost settled next to Bucklin, two plain-faced children came to the back door, and the boy gave three sharp knocks, and called-out, "Hello?"

Mrs. Bucklin came to the door and saw the boy and girl standing there. "Good evening, Mrs. Bucklin, we have stopped by to say hello to Mr. Bucklin."

"Do come in, children. Mr. Bucklin is resting in his chair. He hurt his foot yesterday and could use a little company and cheering up." The children came into the house. The Spirit recognized them for who they were before they entered the room, and the Spirit moved himself into a dark corner. Both children saw the shadow in the corner where there should have been no shadow at all. The children did not have to speak about the shadow. Just a look between them told all that had to be told.

"Joseph, look who has come to visit us." She then asked the children, "Would you children like some milk and cookies, or, perhaps, a bowl of stew?"

"You are very kind to offer. A bowl of stew would be just right," said the girl. "Perhaps we would be able to repay you with a kindness of our own." The evil ghost shifted uneasily in the corner.

Mrs. Bucklin kept a very clean house, and the children sat at the table carefully eating their bowl of stew so as to not spill a drop. When they were finished, the boy took-up three oranges that had been in a bowl on the table and began to juggle them without so much as a glance at the fruit. Then there were four oranges, then five, then six flying through the air. Bucklin clapped his hands, "Glory be, look what he can do. Where did all those oranges come from."

Neither child said a thing. Both children kept watch over the activities of the shadow that was creeping slowly, ever so slowly, towards Mr. Bucklin. The boy gave a nod of his head, and the girl pulled a colorful stick from her sleeve and pointed it towards a spot in the corner. "Be gone!", she said, and the words were so clearly spoken that Bucklin heard the words inside his heads for years to come. The words were followed by a flash of light so bright that it blinded the couple for a minute or two. They heard a clap of thunder that knocked them back in their chairs and kept them pinned there for a minute or more. When they were finally able to see again, the boy and girl were gone. The three oranges were back in the bowl on the table.

The room had the odor of a poorly lit coal fire. "What was that...; who were those children?", Bucklin stammered.

"I thought you knew them; they said they had stopped-bye to see you."

"I'd never seen them before in my life."

The flash of light and the BANG! that followed caused the neighbors to run outside their houses in a panic. A noisy crowd gathered at Bucklin's door and called to the Bucklins. The Bucklins came outside; Mr. Bucklin was as white as a sheet, and Mrs. Bucklin was clearly ill. Both were shaking.

They told the story as best they could and then repeated the story again.
Mildred Nelson had seen the children come to Bucklin's door, or so she said, but Mildred was a drinker, and she was slurring her words. The more she said, the less the people believed her. Then there was Franklin who said the children had arrived with him on the city bus. Again, the account did not hold true to the listeners. In the end, nobody knew very much about what happened that night.

The part of the night the children liked best was when Mrs. Nelson had said that the children had pointed ears and long, pointy noses, which they certainly did not have. A few nights after the departure of Dudingston's ghost, the children appeared in Mrs. Nelson's bedroom and woke her with a song. They had put-on pointed ears and long, pointy noses just to entertain her. She hollered at them, "You children will drive me to drink!"

The boy gave Mrs. Nelson a wink and a smile. She kept the news of the visit to herself, and she never took another drink for the rest of her life. More than that, she had no memory that she had ever taken a drink.

In time, all the people moved away from The Downs. The houses stood for awhile, but without care, all the houses soon fell to the ground, and then they covered with vines.

It was Dudingston's evil spirit that had brought the children to The Downs that night, and on that night, the children, without a care, had sent his ghost straight to Hell for an eternity.

How Liam and Lara Got their Magic

So there he was, the ghost of Paddy Noonan, watching the quiet breathing of two little children on Christmas Eve. Paddy had never seen these children before this night, but he recognized them as soon as he appeared in their bedroom. On his way out of the bedroom, Paddy kissed the forehead of each child, and those kisses moved Paddy's charms from his spirit into their's, and he whispered, "Find the stone." Paddy's kisses and those words changed everything in the lives of these children, as you will see in the events soon to be recalled here.

Paddy had always been quite a wanderer, watch for that in this recollection, and he had always been an adventurer, watch for that, too, but this is Liam and Lara's story now. While their parents slept, they took a walk on a trail in the forest and became lost, but there, I'm getting ahead of myself in the telling of events.

The story starts the day after the ghost of Paddy Noonan visited the two children, Christmas Day. The Christmas dinner had been put away, and the parents had quieted down into an afternoon nap.

Poppa was asleep on the couch. Momma was asleep in a big soft chair. The other Poppa and Momma had put themselves to bed for a long, long sleep. Before she went to sleep, Momma had told Lara, "Take good care of your little cousin. Keep him entertained."

"I will, Momma. I'll keep him entertained."

Lara had been born on Christmas eve, and her parents had named her, "Merry." Liam had been born a few minutes later, and his parents had named him, "Christmas." Those names had worked-out pretty well at home, but they had not worked-out very well at school with the other children.

So, when they were six years old, they re-named themselves Lara and Liam. They decided that he was to be, "the little cousin," because he was already a good deal taller than she. There was no sense at all in being serious, they agreed.

Here they were on another Christmas Day, standing in the living room, being quiet so they would not disturb their sleeping parents. Liam had been given a baseball bat for Christmas, which he had been swinging at an imaginary ball and hitting it solidly every time. Lara had been given a magic wand, a plastic tube filled with gel and glitter. She had just noticed that on the side of the wand in very small print were the words: to activate the magic in this wand, phone 869-111-2468.

Lara made the telephone connection, and an old woman's voice asked, "Name and location, please."

She answered: "My name is Lara, and I'm standing in the living room."

"Very good," said the old woman. "Your magic command is, let me see..., it is here somewhere. Yes, "BY THE GHOST OF PADDY NOONAN," that is your magic command. You do not say the words out loud, you just think them; that's for security purposes. Use the magic wisely. Do not call upon magic to do the things that you can do for yourself. We put the magic in the wand, and we can take the magic out of the wand!"

At that moment, the wand had instantly become lighter, and then Lara ducked quickly as the imaginary ball that rocketed off Liam's bat whizzed above the back of her head.

Something had happened to her during the telephone call. She did not quite know what had happened, something had happened. She heard herself call to her younger cousin, "Liam! Get your coat. We're going out for an adventure!"

He did not say anything, he just looked out the window at the rain, which was coming down in sheets. After a while he said, "I don't want to get wet."

She swung the magic wand through the air, "Then I'll turn you into a frog. Frogs don't mind getting wet," she said helpfully, remembering that her mother had told her to take good care of her little cousin.

"Whoa, whoa," he said quickly, as he watched the wand swing in his direction. "I never said I wasn't going." He added, "I just want to know, where are we going?"

"We are going to find a rainbow and the pot of gold buried under the spot where the rainbow touches the ground."

"I'll get a shovel." Liam dropped his imaginary ball to the floor and put his bat next to it.

"You better get that bat, too. You never know when you are going to have to whomp someone or..., some thing."

"Right," he said, picking-up the bat. He took two mighty swings, one to the left and one to the right. He was not hitting imaginary balls anymore. Two imaginary house-dragons dropped to the floor on either side of him.

Lara stepped over one of the dragons and wrote a brief note to the both sets of parents, "Gone for an adventure. Will be back later today or tomorrow or sometime. Don't worry."

Off they went. They were walking on a curved path. It seemed like they were walking in a big circle or, maybe, a spiral. Soon there was no turning back, they noticed, because when they did look back, there was no path behind them. They did not know where they were, and they did not know the way home; they were lost. Then the worst happened.

Liam stopped in mid-stride and dropped to the ground. It was dead quiet all around them. The birds had stopped flying, the leaves on the trees had stopped moving, even the rain had stopped falling. He pointed towards a long shadow leaning against the side of a tree. "What is that?" His voice had taken on a hissing quality that made the hairs on Lara's neck stand straight. She knew what it was. There was no sense trying to run away. Nobody could not outrun that thing.

"That's a wicked witch," and after a long pause, she said. "Run right at her, and swing your bat like you were going to knock her head off. Go! Go!"

He found his legs running underneath him, carrying him closer and closer to the shadow. He was swinging his bat harder than he had ever swung it before, his voice let out a scream that split the air and shook the ground. The witch stepped away from the tree and onto the path. She was a terrible sight with her black pointed hat, her wire rimmed glasses perched on her crooked nose, her black dress covering her from the top of her neck to the top of her black pointy shoes. He stopped running and stood still. He wanted to swing his bat, but the bat would not move.

The witch reach out and grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him to her. Then, the witch's other arm stretched out a very long way and grabbed Lara by her hair and pulled Lara to her.

"Well, my little imps, out for an adventure, are you? Having a good time, are we?" Her voice cracked through the air around them like it was ice. "Well, I think I'm holding my dinner." Then, she pulled out a magic rope that began to tie Liam's feet together, and then his knees.

He could see where this was going, and he did not like it. He took a mighty swing with his bat and knocked the glasses from her crooked nose. Without her glasses, the witch could not see the children. She reached out and grabbed hold of a tree and muttered a curse or two and shook the tree so hard that it came out of the ground before she realized that she did not have hold of the boy with the bat. She bent over and started feeling the ground, hoping to catch a child by the foot, but Liam got in back of her and hit her so hard on her behind that she flew through the air and landed in a mud puddle, and she couldn't get up because the mud held her fast to the ground.

Liam held his bat high above his head, ready to deliver another blow. It was then that he saw his older cousin, sitting on a rock eating an apple as if she did not have a care in the world. She looked at him and asked in a crackling voice that imitated the voice of the wicked witch, "Having a good time, are we?"

"No..., well, yes...." Then he brightened, "I just had a wonderful adventure."

"Very entertaining I'd say. Remember that, in case my mother asks."

He saw the basket of apples by the side of the tree, and realized that he was hungry. He picked-up the largest, shiny one. Just as he was about to take a bite, he heard his cousin's warning, "Don't bite that apple!"

"Why? ...Is it a poison apple?"

She just smiled.

He said to himself, "Of course it is a poison apple." He looked at the apple, and on the red surface he could see the image of the witch earlier in the day painting the apple with a brew of poison and placing the apple in the basket. He picked another apple from the basket, one that was not so big and not so shiny. He looked at it, and then he took his first bite." His cousin nodded her head and smiled, "Now you are getting smart."

He finished his apple and said, "I think it is time to move-on, let's go!", and he picked-up his shovel and his bat and started walking.

"Not so fast," said the wee faerie, who had spent the day riding on Lara's ear, hidden by Lara's curly hair. "You might not want to leave the wicked witch stuck in the mud. You'd want to set her free, I'd say."

Wise children know that good faeries are not to be ignored when they speak into your ear. Lara called to her cousin, "Wait! We have to free the witch."

Liam could not believe what he had just heard. "Did you just say, free the witch?"

"Yes, free the witch."

"Have you ever done this before, freed a wicked witch?"

"No." Lara gave him a smile and said, "I have a plan." She held her hand up to keep him from speaking and added, "Stand-back. I got this plan from my good faerie."
But Liam did not stand-back; he went dangerously close to the witch, and gave her shoe a little kick, and then he asked, "Are you dead?"

She crackled, "Of course I'm not dead you dreadful little boy."

Lara stepped forward, "I'm going to get you out of the mud puddle, you wicked witch, and it won't cost you much."

"How are you going to get me out of this mud, you dreadful little girl?"

"Magic!"

"You have magic? Magic? Well, why didn't you say so before I grabbed the boy? I wouldn't have grab you if I knew you had magic." Then she wailed, "Get me out of this mud, I have to pee."

The little faerie riding on her ear whispered, "Get her wishing stone."

"First, the cost: Hand-over your wishing stone..., give it to my favorite cousin, the wonderful cousin you called a dreadful little boy."

"Get me out of here, then I'll give you the wishing stone."

"First the wishing stone, then I'll get you out of the mud."

The wicked witch seemed to think about this for a moment, and then a smile could be seen on her lips, if you can call the sneer on a wicked witch's face a smile. "Okay, I'll hand-over the wishing stone, what is he going to wish for, candy? I'll just give him some candy. Then he won't have to carry the stone around. It is very heavy. I think that I will be able to climb our of the mud by myself when I don't have this heavy wishing stone holding me down."

The little faerie sitting on Lara's ear whispered, "Get her to give Liam her wishing stone. It is not heavy at all."

Lara told the witch, "Pass-over your wishing stone if you want me to release you from the mud puddle."

The witch started screaming at the top of her voice, "Who told you about the wishing stone?" The witch started kicking her feet and slapping her hands and mud was flying everywhere. She was huffing and puffing and kicking and slapping, on and on, but she could not get herself out of the mud. When she finally stopped, unable to let out even a single scream or kick a single kick because she was so tired, the witch heard a sweet little voice say, "Pass me the wishing stone right now, or my cousin and I are leaving, and you can stay stuck in the mud until the end of time if that suits you better than passing over your wishing stone." The children began to walk away.

"I'll do it, I'll do it!", then it appeared, a round white stone that looked like the full moon shining in the night sky. It rolled out of the witch's hand and rolled across the ground to Liam's feet. He reached to pick it up, and then it was in his hand, smooth to his touch and a little warmer than his hand, lighter than a feather. He knew to put the stone in his pocket, and when he did, something happened to him. He did not quite know what had happened, but he knew something had happened, and now he was different.

Then a question occurred in Liam's head. Why didn't the witch use the wishing stone to wish herself out of the mud? Something was not right here. Just about the time Liam thought of his question, his good faerie woke up from a long nap. The faerie remembered Liam's question because it had been part of the faerie's dream. The good faerie got close to Liam's ear and whispered, "The wicked witch did not know the Magic Command to get the wish out of the stone."

Liam's head jerked back, and he said out loud, "I don't know the Magic Command."

The witch started crackling and giggling, "You fooled yourselves, but a promise is a promise. You said you would release me from this mud. Now, do it!"

"Hold on," said Lara to Liam, "Did you read the fine print on the stone?"

Both Liam and the witch asked at the same time, "There's fine print?"

"Of course there is fine print; there is always fine print."

Liam brought the stone out into the light, and read these words from print that was so small that only a child could read it, "BY THE GHOST OF PADDY NOONAN."

Lara was quick to add, "Don't say the words out loud, only think them. That is for the purpose of security."

Liam was a quick learner, and, so, he thought, BY THE GHOST OF PADDY NOONAN, and then he said, "Release the witch from the mud."

And..., it happened. The witch was standing before them, and she was gathering up all her meanness to cast a spell on the children and to regain the wishing stone, but then Lara brought forth her plan. Lara pointed her magic wand in the direction of the witch and thought the words, BY THE GHOST OF PADDY NOONAN, and then said, "Turn this wicked witch into a good witch!" Just as Lara said the words, "Good witch," the black pointed hat started to turn into a jewelled crown, and the long black dress started to turn into a long gown made from white silk, and the pointy black shoes started to turn into golden slippers.

The witch screamed, "No! No! I hate being good. Don't do this to me, I'll be ruined. No..., no..., no." With each word, her voice became softer and softer and softer, until finally she turned into a beautiful, good witch, in truth, she turned into a fairy godmother. "Oh, dear. What happened to me? I feel so good." The good witch twirled to the left and then twirled to the right. She looked at the children as if she were seeing them for the first time. "Oh! Are you Darlings lost in the woods? What can I do to help you two lovely children?"

"We are doing pretty well on our own, and best of all, we have each other."

"You can be a fairy godmother to someone else. Don't let us keep you."

"Oh, goodness, someone does need my help." POOF, the fairy godmother disappeared.

"She's gone!"

"Good! She would just be in our way, you can carry goodness too far. Sometimes you have to be a bit... final with people and things. Have you ever been to The Downs?"

"Where is that?" Liam was quiet for a moment. He was thinking of his mother and father, soon to awaken from their afternoon nap. They had enough to worry about without worrying about him. His parents were going back to prison after the Christmas holiday. Of course they were not guilty, but that did not change anything. He said, "I think we better get back."

Lara read the expression on his face, and said, "Yes, we better, but first we will stop in The Downs. We have something to do there. It won't take us but a few minutes. Look at your white stone, I think it will show us the way."

Liam reached into his pocket. There was a hazy image on the surface of the stone. As soon as he rubbed his finger across the image, the children found themselves standing on a dirt path facing the door of a small, decrepit cottage. He said, "I think we should see who is inside."