CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
December 11, 1999, 11:45 a.m.
Mescalero Indian Reservation
"You must know something!" Eddie's mother exclaimed in exasperation. "You were the last person to speak to him!"
"I already told you a million times, he wouldn't tell me where he was going," Eddie said.
"Then do you have any ideas?" his father asked. "Any at all?"
"I already told you a million times, I don't," Eddie said tersely. "How many times do I have to say the same thing before you believe me?"
More, Eddie thought, answering his own question as both parents once again started in on him. River Dog's disappearance last night had upset both of them so much that they'd stayed home, combing the village for information, for anyone who may have seen anything at all. But no one had, a combination of the fact that it had been late, dark, and River Dog hadn't wanted to be seen. When morning had come and his grandfather hadn't reappeared, his parents had gone into full out crisis mode.
"No cars or trucks are missing," his father was saying, "which means he probably went on foot. I'll round up some people to help look for him."
"On foot," his mother moaned. "Is he trying to kill himself?"
"Don't fret," his father soothed. "He can't have gotten far."
Don't count on it, Eddie thought. He'd watched his grandfather hike the forest to the cave, moving so fast that his own grandson had to hurry to keep up with him. And if the woods hadn't been his real destination, all he would have had to do was reach the road and hitchhike. He could be miles away by now.
A shadow moved outside, paused by the window, vanished. Eddie left his parents to their rescue planning and slipped outside, knowing that arguing with them would only make things worse. They had the entire village in an uproar, which may have been the point all along; if anyone came looking for River Dog, everyone would be in agreement that he wasn't here. He found Jackie waiting for him a few doors down.
"Rough morning?" she asked.
"Loud," Eddie clarified. "I assume you heard?"
"Everyone heard. I thought it was better if I didn't knock."
"Wise choice," Eddie sighed.
"So do you know where he went?"
Yes. "No," he answered. "And I'm glad I don't."
"But you know why he went, don't you?"
Eddie hesitated. "Let's just call it personal reasons, and leave it at that, shall we?"
"I can't leave it at that, Eddie. Because that 'personal reason' just came back."
"Who came back?" Eddie asked sharply.
"The boy," Jackie answered. "Not the one from last night, the one who was here the first time, the one with the girl who had the broken necklace. I saw them drive by in a black jeep."
Max, Eddie thought darkly. This was all his fault; if not for Max's big mouth, River Dog wouldn't have felt the need to leave, and Eddie wouldn't be catching crap from his parents. "Where are you going?" Jackie demanded when he turned abruptly and stalked away.
"Where do you think?" Eddie said tightly.
"Eddie, don't," Jackie begged, scrambling after him. "Don't get involved this time. Everyone will tell them River Dog's not here; just leave it at that."
"I don't want to leave it at that," Eddie said angrily. "I have a thing or two to say to that kid."
Jackie kept protesting, but it turned out they didn't have far to go. Only a short ways down the road, a black jeep came around the corner and pulled to a stop. Max and Liz climbed out just as Eddie reached them.
"You're not welcome here anymore," Eddie declared as the two spun around to face him.
"We just want to find out what happened," Max said.
"You told someone what you found here!" Eddie exclaimed. "River Dog is really angry!"
"It's really important that we talk to him about what he did to Michael," Liz said.
A small crowd was gathering. Eddie saw Jackie hanging back, her eyes wide. "He tested him," Eddie said. "Your friend didn't pass."
"What do you mean?" Max asked warily.
"That's all I know," Eddie said.
"That's not enough," Max declared. "I want to know exactly what River Dog did to him."
"He wants nothing to do with you," Eddie retorted. "You betrayed his trust, and that's something he won't forgive."
Eddie stiffened as Max grabbed him by the shirt and yanked him forward. "I don't want forgiveness!" he snapped. "I want answers before my friend dies!"
Eddie held Max's gaze as they stood nose to nose, the crowd pressing in all around them, every pair of eyes on Max. Liz looked alarmed, and behind everyone, Jackie had backed up further. Max released him but held his ground, not the least bit disturbed that he was surrounded by a dozen angry people. His eyes were locked on Eddie's, and as Eddie gazed into them, he caught a whiff of something dangerous percolating just beneath the surface, held barely in check.
"Max…Max," Liz said softly, one hand on the boy who looked ready to explode. "Michael's really sick, Eddie," she went on, "and we don't know what to do. We need River Dog."
Sick? Eddie looked from one to the other, confused. This was the second reference to illness, and it made no sense. River Dog hadn't said anything about anyone being sick, and if "Michael" was the boy who had been here last night, he'd been fine when he left.
"I'm sorry," Eddie said, "but he's gone."
"Then I'm waiting here until he comes back," Max said.
Max retreated to the jeep, folding his arms in front of himself and glaring at everyone around them. Liz hesitated, looking back and forth from Eddie to Max as though hoping Eddie would come up with a different answer before joining Max beside the jeep. The crowd was also looking back and forth, but their problem was curiosity, a curiosity he wasn't in a position to satisfy. After a brief nod to everyone, Eddie walked out of the crowd, passing Jackie, who followed him at a discreet distance.
"Eddie, what was that all about?" Jackie hissed, catching up with him when they were out of earshot.
"Not sure," Eddie said shortly. "I need to get out of here."
"Maybe we all need to get out of here," Jackie said, glancing back toward Max and Liz. "We can't just leave them there."
"We have to," Eddie said. "He's not leaving, and it wouldn't be wise to try and make him."
Jackie grabbed him by the arm, spun him around. "What's that supposed to mean? Is he dangerous?"
"He may be if we try and make him leave," Eddie said. "Look, I need to go," he added urgently. "I said some things…I was angry. I said some things I shouldn't have, and everyone's going to want to know what I meant. And I can't tell them."
Jackie raised an eyebrow. "Like what it was that kid 'found' here? And how River Dog 'tested' the other one? Because I'd like to know those things too, Eddie."
Eddie looked away. "Yeah. That. And I can't tell you either. I'm not sure you even want to know."
Jackie glanced back; the crowd was beginning to disperse. "My house," she said. "My grandmother is with my parents down at the carts. The house should be empty."
"Your house? That's the first place they'll look after mine."
"And I'll tell them you're not there," Jackie said. "Everyone still thinks we're not speaking to each other, remember? Come on."
They walked quickly, looking carefully around to be certain no one was watching before slipping in the back door of Jackie's house. "Thanks," Eddie said gratefully, sinking into a chair. "I know you didn't want to get involved with this, and here you've gotten involved twice now."
"Three times, if you count the one that made you mad," Jackie said dryly. "But enough times that I think I deserve a better explanation than…."
She stopped, her eyes widening, much wider than they'd been during the scuffle with Max. Eddie stared at her a moment before turning around to see what she was looking at, and what he found had him out of his chair in a big hurry. The strange man facing them only feet away looked like a perfectly normal white man; blue jeans, leather jacket, bald head, but there was something about him, something beyond the fact that he was here, in this kitchen, when he shouldn't be.
"Do…you know him?" Eddie whispered.
"She does not," the man answered before Jackie could. "And neither do you. I'm looking for River Dog. Where is he?"
Holy shit, Eddie thought as he felt Jackie stiffen beside him. River Dog's whereabouts seemed to be the question on everyone's mind, but this wasn't some teenager asking the question. "I…don't know," he stammered. "He's not here."
"Then where is he?"
"I don't know," Eddie repeated. "He left last night," he added hastily when the stranger took a small but clear step forward. "He didn't say where he was going."
"But you're his grandson," the stranger said. "You have an idea."
Eddie's heart began to pound so hard, he could have sworn it was visible through his shirt. How on earth did this man know that River Dog was his grandfather? This is why he left, Eddie thought. This is exactly why River Dog had left, because he knew what would be coming for him…and here it was. He felt Jackie's hand slip into his, grip it hard.
"I don't know where he went," Eddie said in a voice as firm as he could muster. "He didn't tell me, and that was the point. He didn't want anyone to know, and he didn't want me to have to hide anything."
The man paused, his head bowed as he looked at the floor as though considering this. Eddie waited, Jackie barely breathing beside him, hoping the fact that he didn't know anything would make whoever—whatever—this was go away, just as River Dog had hoped.
And then the man slowly, deliberately, looked up. Jackie gasped. Eddie's heart went from pounding to nearly stopping.
"With all due respect to your grandfather," the stranger said, "I still need to know where he is."
The tone was calm, deliberate, even courtly. All of which belied the fact that his eyes had gone completely, utterly black.
*****************************************************
Crashdown Café
"Order up!" the cook bellowed. "C'mon, kid, let's get a move on!"
Flustered, Alex jammed his pencil and pad in his pocket. "Sorry, can you hold on a sec? I'll be right back."
He fled quickly, leaving the table of four who had been waiting patiently for him to take their order with their mouths open. When he reached the window, the cook was scowling so deeply, it looked like his face hurt.
"See, the idea behind me making hot food is that you deliver it hot, or at least warm," the cook fumed. "I don't set these plates out here for decoration, you know. You're supposed to deliver them."
"You got mine?" a voice asked behind him.
"Yeah, I just don't have anywhere to put them," the cook groused. "This one hasn't picked up his orders yet."
The exceptionally grumpy Agnes looked Alex up and down like he was some sort of bug. "So load me up," she said in martyred tones. "I'm not getting in trouble because of him."
"I'm not trying to get anyone in trouble," Alex protested. "I'm just trying to help out a friend."
"A friend who walked out on her shift," Agnes sniffed. "I know Liz said she had to leave, but where's Maria?"
"Busy," Alex retorted. "Kind of like you were busy that night when all the orthodontists hit and you left Maria alone to take your break. Frankly, you owe her."
If looks could kill, the one Agnes shot him would have dropped him faster than that bullet had dropped Liz. Agnes's mouth set in a grim line as she loaded up both arms with an impressive number of plates and stormed off. Great, Alex thought. Another enemy. Just what he needed. He was batting zero today for sure.
"Not bad," the cook chuckled. "Maybe I was wrong about you, kid. Takes balls to tangle with that one."
Alex blinked. Okay, maybe not zero; just close. "Look, I'm really sorry," he said to the cook. "I've never done this before—"
"No, really?"
"—but I'm trying to learn fast," Alex finished, ignoring him. "I'd learn even faster with a little help."
"All right, all right," the cook sighed. "You've got four orders here. That's the most you can take in one go, so this'll be good practice—"
"Four?" Alex echoed incredulously. "How am I supposed to carry four plates?"
"One on each arm, one in each hand. One, two, three, four. You can count, can't you?"
"Of course I can count," Alex said crossly. "This isn't about math, it's about balance."
"Here, give me your arm," the cook coaxed. "One there and there. Now grab one with each hand. Roll your arms in toward each other a little so they support each other—not too much, or you'll spill everything, and…there! Off you go. Don't bump anything."
Terrified, Alex looked down at the four plates of steaming hot, greasy food and nearly fainted. Don't bump anything? How in the world was he supposed to get all this to the table, any table, without spilling it all? You can do this! he told himself fiercely. He was an honor student, for Christ's sake. He could handle AP Math, so he should be able to balance a few plates. Looking out at the restaurant, he spied his target table; mercifully, it was relatively close. Moving very slowly, he crept his way over, coming to a careful stop at the end of the table.
"Okay!" he said with completely false cheerfulness. "Let's see...here's the Galaxy Burger, and the Men in Blackberry pie…" One by one he divested himself of each plate, after which there was a brief pause, a flurry of confused looks…and then everyone exchanged plates with everyone else in a culinary version of a Chinese fire drill.
"Oh," Alex said, mortified. "Sorry."
"No harm done, son," one of the customers assured him. "Everything's here, it just needed…rearranging."
"Right. Thanks. Well…anything else I can get you?"
A bottle of ketchup later, Alex returned to the table of four who deserved a medal for their patience. That order was clipped to the turntable just as another one came up, this one only two plates, which felt like nothing after four. This time he managed to deliver the right plates to the right customers, after which a miracle occurred: There was a lull, with everyone seated either eating or having ordered, and no new customers in sight. Agnes was still glaring at him, the cook was his new best friend for having told her off, and Alex took advantage of the precious few free minutes to slip into the back and lean against the wall, absolutely exhausted. He'd honestly had no idea that waiting tables was so hard.
Penance, Alex thought, enjoying the cooler air in the back. Perhaps he should think of this as penance because God knows he had some penance to do. He still couldn't believe he'd blurted out what he'd blurted out back at the UFO Center, and he wouldn't be the least bit surprised if Isabel never, ever spoke to him again. He'd been over the moon when the most beautiful…well, "girl"…in school had talked to him for so long last night and then agreed to meet him this morning that he'd just lost his marbles. There was no other explanation for having said what he'd said. And then before he could make it right, Michael had gotten sick, and Isabel had yelled at him to leave them alone. In a funk, Alex had crossed the street to the Crashdown, meaning to unburden himself to Maria. But he hadn't been able to find her, and it wasn't until he'd spied her, harried and arguing with Agnes, that he realized why: They'd brought Michael here. He'd figured they'd bring him home or to the doctor, but how stupid was that? Michael was an alien; he couldn't go to the doctor any more than Max could, and his stepfather was a known lush. Sneaking into the back when Agnes wasn't looking, he'd found Maria just as she was heading upstairs.
"He's here, isn't he? Is he okay?"
"Yes…and no," Maria had answered, her face a mask of worry. "We don't know what's wrong. They don't know what's wrong."
"Okay, what can I do to help?" Alex had asked.
Maria's eyes had widened. "Oh, God, Alex, would you wait tables? We're gonna be up and down, and—"
"Say no more," Alex had instructed her firmly. "Where do you want me to start?"
Five minutes later, pencil and pad in hand, he'd walked into the restaurant absolutely delighted to be useful. He'd never waited tables in his life, but how hard could it be? Take the order, pass the order to the kitchen, bring the food to the table, get them anything else they needed, add up the bill, deliver it, move on. Piece of cake, right? Wrong, Alex thought heavily. It was downright embarrassing to find out how tough this was. Pre-calc was a breeze compared to waiting tables, plus it only left you with a headache, not sore feet, a sore back, and a headache. He'd made one friend, one enemy, he had no idea what was going on upstairs, or if Isabel would ever speak to him again…nope. Still batting zero, or darned closed to it.
Muffled voices floated down from upstairs. Alex peeked back into the restaurant; the lull continued, and he saw a chance to improve his dismal batting average. Climbing the stairs, he found the door at the top locked but the key still under the mat. The voices were clearer up here and coming from a room on the right.
"…I had a really high fever, and my mom had to put me in an ice bath," Maria was saying.
"This isn't the chicken pox, and he was fine," Isabel protested.
"Knock, knock," Alex said, poking his head in the door.
The look Isabel shot him was pure panic. "I thought you said you locked the door," she said accusingly to Maria.
"The key's always under the mat," Alex said hastily. "Hey, look, everything's going fine downstairs. I just wanted to come up…see if there's anything that I could do."
"Yes, there's something you could do," Isabel said in a ragged voice. "You can get out of here, both of you, and let me take care of Michael! God, he needs me right now, not strangers!"
Alex stiffened like he'd been slapped. He'd gone and done it again! Twice in one day had to be a record. But Maria didn't react, didn't say a word to either him or Isabel, merely ushered him outside and back downstairs, locking the door behind her and pocketing the key which had been under the mat.
"God, I...I'm sorry," Alex stammered. "I didn't mean to piss her off all over again, or to—"
"Alex, Alex; don't worry," Maria said soothingly. "It's not you. She was already mad at me, and then you showed up—"
"No, it was me," Alex said, anguished. "I…I did...said…something really stupid over in the UFO center right before Michael got sick, and Isabel got really mad at me...completely understandable, I know, but still—"
"It's okay," Maria said. "It's not your fault."
"How do you know that?" Alex demanded. "You don't even know what I said!"
"And I don't have to," Maria said. "Look, you just found out three of your classmates are aliens. That's enough to boggle anyone's mind, and it takes some getting used to. Give yourself a break; you'll get the hang of it. After what you've done for them, they owe you one hell of a lot of slack."
"But it was really stupid—"
"So?" Maria interrupted. "When I found out, I ran screaming into the road. Literally. I'm not proud of that, but that's what happened. Don't worry about Isabel; she'll get over it. Besides, she's got a much bigger problem on her mind now."
Alex glanced back up the stairs. "He's no better, is he?"
Maria shook her head. "No. Max and Liz went to see if they could find out how he got this way, so in the meantime, it's just us. I don't care what Isabel thinks, I am so grateful you're here. It means so much to me that you're willing to just pitch in like this, and when this is over, it will to her too."
The kitchen door opened abruptly, and the cook appeared. "Order up!" he told Alex enthusiastically. "I like this one," he added to Maria. "He's got stones."
Maria raised an eyebrow as Alex felt his face warming. "Oh, really?"
"Really," the cook answered. "Ask Agnes."
"Agnes giving you trouble?" Maria asked as the kitchen door swung closed.
"I've got it," Alex assured her. "Don't worry about me."
"Oh, I won't," Maria smiled. "I already knew you had stones."
*****************************************************
Mescalero Indian Reservation
Eddie's heart had given up trying to decide what to do; it had gone from pounding to nearly stopping and back again in such a short space of time that it seemed to have seized in a staccato, irregular rhythm. Jackie had slipped almost completely behind him, her hand gripping his so tightly that it was growing numb. The stranger's eyes were normal now, having been black only for a few seconds, but that had been plenty long enough to get the point across: This was a visitor. The question was, what kind?
"With all due respect," Eddie echoed in a voice that shook, "I told you, I don't know where River Dog is. He deliberately didn't tell me."
The visitor sighed a deceptively human sigh. "Then tell me what happened with…'Michael'," he finished, speaking the name with an edge to his voice. "He came here didn't he? When?" he added when Eddie nodded. "And with whom?"
"Last night," Eddie answered, deciding this was safe information to give, as River Dog hadn't told him not to. "And he was alone. Assuming that was 'Michael'. He wouldn't tell me his name."
"A brief burst of sanity," the visitor muttered. "Imagine that."
Eddie blinked; the visitor's tone was a dead ringer for that of his parents this morning, equal parts exasperation and disappointment. "He just said he was looking for River Dog," Eddie went on. "That's all. He was very insistent."
"Oh, I'll bet," the visitor said darkly. "And he went into the sweat, didn't he?"
"How did you know that?"
"Because he's ill," the visitor answered. "Was he ill when he left last night?"
"No," Eddie answered. "And he was only in there for a few minutes."
"So was I," the visitor said. "And I became so ill, I would have died if not for your grandfather."
Died…. Eddie's mind raced back to the stories River Dog had told him, over a month ago now. His grandfather claimed the visitor had saved his life and the life of his great-grandfather, Quanah…and at some point, River Dog had saved the visitor's. He'd never understood how River Dog could have saved a visitor's life or why that would have been necessary, and River Dog hadn't provided details, but no matter. A piece of the puzzle suddenly clicked into place.
"Are you…are you Nasedo?"
The visitor gave him a measured stare. "Where did you hear that name?"
"From my grandfather," Eddie answered. "And you haven't answered my question."
Silence. Behind him, Jackie had stiffened all over again. The visitor was eyeing him closely as though trying to decide whether to answer.
"I am the one your grandfather knew as 'Nasedo'," he said finally.
Eddie nodded slowly "Then I should tell you he kept his promise to you."
"I know," Nasedo answered. "And you helped him keep it. I saw you. At the cave. Even after River Dog told you to stay away from it."
"River Dog also told me Nasedo had enemies," Eddie said. "That's why he didn't tell me where he was going, in case an enemy came looking for him. How do I know you're not an enemy?"
Nasedo considered that for a moment before shrugging slightly. "I guess you don't."
Another long silence stretched. Eddie got the distinct impression that the next move was his as he watched Nasedo, who returned his stare with no malice, but offered nothing by way of proof of his identity. Then again, what did he have to offer? How could a visitor prove he was the same visitor who had been here forty years ago?
"My grandfather made a promise to you," Eddie said suddenly. "He promised to administer a test. What was that test?"
"If anyone came to him, he was to bring them far enough into the cave that they were in total darkness," Nasedo replied promptly. "They had to produce their own light. Only then was he to show them the markings on the wall."
Eddie felt himself sag slightly with relief. Granted it remained unnerving to have a visitor standing in front of him, but now the odds were good that this was the same visitor River Dog had trusted all those years ago. "I gather the first one who came passed the test," Nasedo went on. "And your grandfather showed him the markings."
"The boy passed," Eddie nodded. "The girl didn't. River Dog said she wasn't one of them."
"He was right," Nasedo agreed. "And did the boy show any recognition when he saw the markings?"
Eddie shook his head. "No. He was fascinated, but he didn't know what they meant. He seemed…."
"What?" Nasedo prompted.
"Really new at it," Eddie admitted. "He was upset that the cave painting didn't mean anything to him, as though he knew it should, but just couldn't remember. And he seemed surprised by the light he made, like he hadn't done that before, surprised and…winded. It seemed to take a lot of effort."
Nasedo said nothing. Eddie risked a peek at Jackie, who still looked scared, but was gazing intently at the visitor, who looked…disturbed? Disappointed? Upset, definitely, as though Max's behavior was not up to snuff. "I see," he said heavily. "What about Michael? Did he see the markings?"
"We were never anywhere near the cave," Eddie answered. "When he showed up asking for River Dog, grandfather said to bring him into the sweat, so I did. He was only in there about ten minutes before he left."
"And that's when it started," Nasedo murmured. "How was he afterwards?"
"Mad," Eddie said. "He wouldn't take 'no' for an answer when I told him River Dog wouldn't talk to him. He needed some convincing."
"No doubt," Nasedo said dryly. "But he wasn't visibly ill?"
Eddie shook his head. "No. Coughing, but not sick. And Grandfather was angry because he said Michael wasn't one of them, and he thought Max had told someone about this place after he'd warned him not to. He left last night because he was afraid others would come. He thought it was safer for everyone if he wasn't here."
Nasedo considered this in silence for a moment. "Here's the thing," he said finally. "Your grandfather was mistaken; Michael is one of us, which is why he's ill, likely the same way I was. It took longer to show up than it did with me, but I have to expect it will take the same course…and I almost died. I need your grandfather to help heal him."
"You need the healing stones," Eddie nodded. "I know where they are—"
"Healing stones will not be enough. I need your grandfather."
"Bu why?" Eddie asked, perplexed. "Grandfather said he helped you all by himself."
"He did. But that won't work this time, and I don't have time to explain why. I need to know where he is."
"And I told you, I don't know!" Eddie exclaimed in frustration. "I said the same thing to Max, and he's parked down there, waiting for grandfather to come back."
"As he should be," Nasedo said. "He will wait as long as it takes because he has no other options…but such is not the case with me."
The tone was calm, more statement than threat, but the meaning was unmistakable, and the atmosphere in the room changed abruptly. Everyone felt it, including Jackie, who shot Eddie an alarmed look. "I will ask you again," Nasedo said deliberately. "Where is your grandfather? You must know something of where he was headed when he left. I need to know where to start looking. A life depends on it."
Eddie looked back and forth from Nasedo to Jackie, the latter shaking her head ever so slightly, the former's expression making it clear that refusing to answer would result in something a good deal less pleasant than merely waiting like Max. River Dog had been certain that Michael was not a visitor, and it appeared he'd been wrong. He certainly wouldn't have wanted to put anyone's life in danger, but it appeared he had.
"If you find him," Eddie said warily, "what will you do with him?"
" 'Do with him'?" Nasedo repeated. "You think I would harm him? Why would I do that? Your grandfather is an ally."
"So was the man you killed. The one with the broken necklace, the necklace you gave him."
"Ah," Nasedo said softly. "Yes. James." He paused. "James was also an ally. But he threatened to expose me, and very soon after meeting me. In all the years I've known River Dog, he's never done that. He knows the value of discretion, as did his father, and he still does, as evidenced by the fact that he left; his absence would protect me as well as you. But the only enemy currently to hand is illness, and for that, I need your grandfather. I will find him without your assistance but I will find him faster with it, and speed is of the essence. I don't have much time."
He walked closer. Jackie backed up, but Eddie stood his ground as Nasedo came face to face with him, held his gaze. "For the last time…where is he?"
******************************************************
River Dog threw another log on the fire, the flames leaping and snapping. It was cold; he'd had to wait until the searchers, no doubt assembled by his son, had migrated to another section of the woods before starting a fire, and even now he was ready to abandon it at a moment's notice. Fortunately he'd brought provisions for several days, but he might have to visit his son in secret just to reassure him he lived and get him to call off the search. They must not find him. No one must find him. Too many were looking for him, and for all the wrong reasons. With a heavy sigh, he settled down on the ground…and gaped when he looked across the fire.
"When last we parted, you asked if you would ever see me again," said the man sitting across from him. "At the time, I would have said 'no'. And I would have been wrong."
River Dog leaned closer, peering through the smoke. "Nasedo?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Next week is Memorial Day weekend, so I'll post Chapter 38 on Sunday, June 5th.
That'll knock out the next 2 weeks (it turns out that traveling halfway around the world is time consuming), but I'm hoping to have Chapter 40 up on 
, so I'll be posting Chapter 45 on 