Other Titles by Nathan Everett

For Money or Mayhem

Computer forensics detective Dag Hamar is pulled from behind the safety of his computer and takes to the streets when he discovers a link between an online predator and real life kidnappings around Seattle. His fledgling romance is threatened when his girlfriend’s daughter is suddenly among the missing.

For Blood or Money

Computer forensics detectives Dag Hamar and Deb Riley discover secret files and hidden code can be as dangerous as dark alleys and flying bullets as they track a missing man and the billion dollar fortune that went with him. Fourteen years after For Money or Mayhem.

The Gutenberg Rubric

Two rare book librarians race across three continents to find and preserve a legendary book printed by Johannes Gutenberg. Behind them, a trail of bombed libraries draws Homeland Security to launch a worldwide search for biblio-terrorists. Keith and Maddie find love along the way, but will they survive to enjoy it?

Steven George & The Dragon

Steven has always known he was a dragonslayer, but on the day his village sends him to slay the fearsome beast he realizes he doesn’t know what a dragon looks like, where it lives, or how to kill it. His quest is facilitated by the exchange of “once-upon-a-times” with the people he meets on the endless road. Think Grimm. For young adults, not children.

The Volunteer

Journey inside the head of a chronically homeless man--a man that in a less politically correct age we might have called a hobo. Gerald Good, known now only as G2, volunteered to take the place of a homeless man, believing he would work his way back quickly. Ten years later, twenty... thirty years, find G2 alone in his head, his memories, and his boxcar.

Copyright ©2018 by Elder Road LLC

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Requests for permission to make copies of any part of the work should be submitted online at ElderRoadBooks@Outlook.com.

ISBN 978-1-939275-80-6

Designed by Nathan Everett

Cover art licensed from Shutterstock by Joseph Sohm, “Waitsfield, Vermont and the Mad River on Scenic Route 100 in Autumn.”

A special thank you to my editors and advisors
who stuck with me through this entire project.
Your help was immeasurable.

Kathryn McCullough

Michele Palmer

Lyndsy Fernandes

1
Population 4190 (+1)

Crossing the Limits

He should have passed up that last lift but there weren’t many trucks that took the state highway east—especially on a holiday. Four hours of bouncing on a poorly maintained two-lane left him in serious bladder pain. When he arrived at the crossroads, the driver didn’t even pull over to the side. He barely stopped in the middle of the intersection long enough for Gee to jump down from the cab.

“Town’s about five miles south,” the driver said as he ground the gears.

“Thanks for the lift,” Gee yelled back.

As soon as the truck started moving, Gee ran to the ditch to relieve himself. He was about to burst, but having clamped down so tightly for so long, it took a minute to relax and let his stream flow. He sighed deeply. Five miles. There was nothing he could do but start walking. He shouldered his backpack and headed south on the narrow road. This one was in even worse repair than the previous, but at least he wasn’t being bounced along it.

The sun was blazing near its zenith and the sweatband on his baseball cap was wet and sticky. He hadn’t eaten since midnight and had nothing to drink since five in the morning. He knew he was dehydrated and woozy, but the nearest place he could eat and drink was the town. He just needed to keep walking.

An hour and a half after the truck dropped him off, he could see the first sign of habitation. His eyes played tricks on him and the town looked like it was getting farther away until he nearly ran into a sign suddenly in front of him.

“City Limits, Rosebud Falls,” he read aloud with a cracked voice. “Population 4,190. Looks like this is it.” His spirit quest had shown him the vision and Gee followed it. He reached deep into one of the pockets in his cargo pants to find a black felt tip marker. He used it to X-out the zero on the sign and draw in a large ‘1.’ “Population four thousand one hundred ninety plus one,” he said as he walked past the sign. Another wave of disorientation and dizziness swept over him. He needed food and water soon.

An Instant of Foolish Heroism

The first sign of life was a working-class bar called the Pub & Grub. Its flashing sign advertised ‘Eat Here.’ When he reached the door, he found a sign that read ‘Closed for the Holiday.’ He tried the door anyway, but it was locked tight. Gee pulled off his cap to mop away the sweat with a handkerchief. He turned away from the pub and continued into town.

Fifteen minutes later, he saw the tents along the river walk where an Independence Day celebration was being held. It was the first life he’d seen in the town. Apparently, folks here went all out for the holiday and Gee was certain he could find food and drink there. He’d take anything at this point.

He limped onto the bridge with the roar of the waterfall behind him. He’d picked up a stone and slumped down to take off his shoe and shake it. It felt so good to put his sock-clad foot on the cool shaded pavement that he took the other shoe off as well.

Rosebud Falls glistened with the distinctive pink-tinged water that gave the river its name. The falls was the culmination of over half a mile of rapids that plunged seven feet onto more rocks just below the confluence of the Rose River and the West Branch. It was beautiful and horrific at the same time—mesmerizing in his current mental state. He stood with his backpack and shoes by his side as he wished he was drinking straight from the mineral-laden water.

“Devon! No. Stop!” a woman screamed from beyond the other side of the bridge. Gee ran across the roadway and looked down on the celebration. A young woman rushed toward the water, which poured swiftly through scattered rocks on this side of the bridge. Gee traced the trajectory of the woman and saw a toddler near the water’s edge. He was gleefully tossing sticks up the river and then leaning out to capture them as they floated by.

The mother was still twenty feet away when the toddler overreached and tumbled headlong into the rushing water. Gee jumped to the railing of the bridge without thinking and arched into a long dive beyond the turbulence of the falls. He was only feet away from the little one when he emerged.

Welcome to Rosebud Falls

When he managed to get to shore, he let the mother and a crew of emergency techs take the child from his arms and didn’t complain when they loaded him in an ambulance to rush to the hospital. A swipe at the water on his face told him his head was bleeding. The EMT applied pressure to his head with a soft cloth. He coughed up some of the water he’d inhaled, but it relieved his parched throat and mouth a little.

At the hospital, a young doctor put six stitches in Gee’s forehead and ordered more fluids when he complained of thirst. An attractive, dark-skinned nurse named Ellie was fussing at the IV when a man wearing an open-collared shirt with a mustard stain on the front entered the room. His khaki shorts went poorly with the sandals and black socks on his feet. A straw hat crowned the ensemble. Gee wondered if this was the child’s father. That thought was dispelled when the man fished around in his pocket and produced a badge.

“Hello, hero,” the guy’s rough voice said. “I’m Detective Mead Oliver. Just spent some time with the Panzas to make sure everything was okay with little Devon. You made quite a splash with that family.” The detective chuckled at his own joke and Gee saw the nurse roll her eyes. “How’s everything in here, Ellie? Is our hero in good shape?” he asked the nurse.

“Detective, you know I can’t comment on a patient’s condition. You have to ask Dr. Poltanys about that. From my perspective, the patient didn’t run from the room screaming when you walked in, so I suspect his condition is serious.”

Gee watched the friendly banter between the two and waited for his turn to speak. Finally, Detective Oliver turned back to Gee.

“It’s nice to meet you, Detective.”

“It’s not every day we have a genuine hero walk into town and save the life of one of our kids. What’s your name?”

“George Evars, sir. I usually go by Gee. ’Cause my middle name is Edward. G-E-E.”

“Sounds like something you got tagged with in grade school and never lost,” Mead continued in good humor. “Where do you hail from?”

“I’m from…” Gee stopped as his brow furrowed. It was right on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t remember. “I’m from, uh… that way, I guess. I can’t think of it right now.” Ellie looked at him with concern written on her face.

“Is there someone we should call to let them know you are here?” Mead asked.

“I… um… don’t know anyone.”

“We need to have the doctor come back in,” Ellie said. She stepped to the doorway and spoke toward the hall. “Mary, please have Dr. Poltanys paged to room 1108. I think we have an issue.”

“Memory problem?” Mead said. “You got a big cut on your head. How did you know it was safe to dive off the bridge?”

“Was it safe?”

“Well, no. It’s posted at both ends of the bridge, but under the circumstances, I’m not going to charge you. You dove a long way out. Marian said it looked like you were flying—came out of the water almost in reach of little Devon. Seemed like everything was fine until you slipped as you handed off the boy and fell on a rock at the shore. Were you in the Coast Guard?”

“I… That doesn’t sound familiar to me. Maybe. I don’t know.” When Gee thought back on his life, he drew a blank. Dr. Poltanys came into the room and took the chart from Ellie.

“What seems to be the problem?”

“The patient seems unable to remember certain things,” Ellie said. “I thought you should know.”

“Right. Could you repeat your full name for me?”

“George Edward Evars.”

“And how old are you, George?”

“Thirty-four. Thirty-five on September 24.”

“And what is today’s date?”

“July fourth. It’s Independence Day, isn’t it? I mean, I wasn’t unconscious or didn’t sleep through it, did I?”

“No. You’re answering just fine. What are you unable to remember?”

“I… uh… don’t remember…”

“He couldn’t remember where he’s from. Didn’t know if he’d been in the Coast Guard,” the detective volunteered.

“Ah. I see. Under interrogation, the witness failed to respond with details the officer wanted to hear,” Poltanys answered.

“I wasn’t interrogating. This was a friendly visit,” Mead answered. The left corner of his mouth pulled back as he scowled. He folded his arms. Poltanys smiled.

“Let’s try it this way,” the doctor said, examining Gee’s eyes with a small light. “We’ll do a little test and see if we can spot anything. Do you want me to send Detective Oliver out of the room?”

“No. He’s fine. You three are the only people I know here. I think.”

“I’m going to give you four words and ask you to repeat them back to me. I want you to remember the four words and I’ll ask you to repeat them again when we’re finished. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Apple. Television. Lamb. Camera.”

“Apple. Television. Lamb. Camera.”

“Good. Remember those words.” The doctor looked back at his chart before continuing, giving Gee a chance to repeat the words to himself. “What is the sum of seven and twelve?”

“Nineteen.”

“Touch your left elbow with your right hand.” Gee did so without disturbing the IV. The doctor handed him a clipboard and pen. “Draw a clock face with the time set at a quarter past seven.” Gee drew a rectangle with the numbers 7:15 in it.

“A.M or P.M?”

Poltanys laughed. “That will do. What year was the Declaration of Independence signed?”

“1776.”

“What were the words I asked you to remember?”

“Apple. Television. Lamb. Camera.”

“Where were you born?”

“In… I… It was…” Gee struggled. He should remember this as easily as he remembered his own name. Poltanys nodded and jotted something down.

“What was your mother’s name?” Gee just shook his head. “It seems that you have some long-term memory loss,” the doctor said. “I want an MRI, but the technician isn’t available today. Let’s make sure you get it in the morning, shall we? I doubt that it is too serious. Your head injury is not significant enough to warrant memory loss and there is no sign of concussion. When you came in, you were suffering from dehydration. When was the last time you drank water?”

“A… um… long time ago. I was really thirsty when I got here and was hoping to get something to drink at the celebration.”

“I think you just suffered traumatic shock, probably from a combination of dehydration and hitting the river. Your body hasn’t had a chance to regain its equilibrium. The drip in your arm should have your fluid levels back up soon, but keep sucking on the ice cubes Ellie is bringing for you. We’ll keep you overnight and get that MRI first thing in the morning.”

Dr. Poltanys turned to the door but stopped before he left. “I don’t suppose you have insurance, do you?” Gee opened his mouth and then shrugged. “I thought not. Don’t worry about it. I’ll bill the City’s hero fund. Go easy on him, Mead.”

“Rosebud Falls has a hero fund?” Gee asked as the doctor left.

“No. Private joke,” Detective Oliver responded. “Poltanys Memorial Hospital has never in its history turned away a patient. They aren’t likely to now.”

“Poltanys? Like the doctor? He owns the hospital?”

“The hospital has been here a lot longer than he has, but for some reason there has always been at least one Poltanys on staff, either as a doctor, nurse, or administrator. They’re one of the seven Families,” Mead said obtusely. “Now, let’s see if I can help you. Do you have any next of kin that we should notify? Wife? Girlfriend? Parents?”

Gee just shook his head. “I really don’t remember.”

“How about ID? Do you have a driver’s license?”

Gee reached to his hip for his wallet and found it bare. “I don’t have pants on.”

“You wouldn’t want them on, believe me,” Ellie said. “We got you out of your wet clothes as soon as the doctor verified that there was no sign of neck or spinal injury. Sorry about the shirt. We cut that off so we could do the x-rays. Let me get your trousers. They’re hanging in the bathroom.” She opened a door across the room and reached for the cargo pants. “You reached for your left hip, Gee. I don’t feel anything in that pocket. Here, you’d better check.” Ellie brought Gee his trousers and he searched the pockets. He went so far as to check the leg pockets as well. The nurse was right, he didn’t want to put them back on in their soggy condition.

“I’m sure I had a wallet. I always carry it in my left hip pocket. I think I had a wallet. Everyone carries a wallet, don’t they?”

“I suppose we’ll find it washed up on the shore someplace. What was in it?” Mead asked.

“A-uh… little money. Not much. ID. A driver’s license. I think. That doesn’t sound quite right.”

“Credit cards?” Gee shrugged and shook his head. “Membership cards? AAA? Health Insurance?” Gee put a hand on his forehead, clearly in distress.

“I just… don’t remember.”

“Okay. They brought a backpack and shoes in from the bridge. First off, if you were thirsty and headed to the festivities for a drink, why did you have your shoes off?”

“I got something in my shoe. It was driving me crazy. I kind of collapsed there to get it out. Felt so good to have my shoe off that I took the other one off and decided to walk barefoot.”

“Walk a long way earlier?”

“I guess. I know my feet were tired.”

“Let’s look through your belongings and see if there are any clues to your identity and who to contact in an emergency.”

“You can’t do that, Mead,” Ellie insisted immediately. “You know you can’t do that without a warrant and I won’t let you.” The corner of Mead’s mouth pulled back toward his ear as he gritted his teeth.

“Ellie, this isn’t New York City. And I’m not one of the police bullies you were used to seeing there. I’m just trying to help,” Mead said. He turned to Gee. “You aren’t suspected of anything and I’m trying to get you help. Will you give me permission to search your pockets and bag for information regarding your identity?”

“He means well, Mr. Evars,” Ellie jumped in, “but if he finds anything illegal in your bag he can still use it to arrest you because you gave him permission to look. You should have a lawyer present or he should have a search warrant.”

“Ellie, where am I going to get a search warrant on the Fourth of July? And under what pretenses? We’re on the same side here, trying to help this guy.”

“Wait.” Gee’s voice stopped the sparring between the two. “I don’t know who I am. Not really. I know my name. But more importantly, I know what kind of man I am. Maybe it’s not the kind of man I’ve always been, and maybe I broke a law before I got here. Or maybe a lot of laws. I don’t know. But the man I am says if I did then I should go to jail. I just don’t feel up to pawing through stuff myself.”

“Then let me look through your things,” Ellie said. “Mead can sit there with a piece of paper and inventory what we find. We can all sign the sheet.”

“You make such a big deal out of it,” Mead sighed. “Does that suit you?”

“That’s fine,” Gee answered the detective. “I don’t know what good it will do, but maybe I stuck my wallet in the pack. And if someone is waiting to hear from me, maybe there’s contact information. I just hope I have clean underwear.”

The Ingredients of Life

“Front right pocket: Cash. Two fives, seven ones, a quarter, a dime, and two pennies. Seventeen dollars and thirty-seven cents. One Swiss Army knife. Not a big one, but a lot of gadgets on it.”

“We don’t need to itemize every blade and gadget,” Mead interrupted. He could already tell this was going to delay dinner.

“Right,” Ellie answered. She didn’t have any other patients on this hall and didn’t mind taking her time at all. “Left front pocket: Handkerchief. And a stone. What is this, Gee?” She held out an oblong white stone, a little more than an inch long and an eighth of an inch thick. Scratched deeply into the surface was a single vertical line crossed by five horizontal lines. It looked like they had once been filled with black paint, but most of it was chipped or worn away. He reached for the stone and closed his fist around it. He felt a sense of calm wash over him—as if he’d been reborn.

“I don’t know,” he said. “But it’s important to me. I… I like to hold it.”

“Woowoo shit,” Mead grunted. “Maybe just a worry stone.”

“Yeah. That’s probably it.” Still, he breathed more easily holding the stone.

“Hmm. That’s all,” Ellie said. “Wait. In this cargo pocket there’s a Magic Marker. Nothing else.”

“What else were you wearing?” Mead asked.

“Jockeys. Socks. T-shirt. Belt. Of course, I’d just taken off my shoes. Hey! So that’s something I remember from before I hit the water. That’s good, right?” Gee reached to his head. “Um… I was wearing a cap, too.”

“Probably halfway to Palmyra in the Rose River by now.”

“The rest of your clothes are drying in the bathroom,” Ellie said, “but I’d get them washed before I put them on again if I were you. Sorry about the t-shirt.”

“Okay. Let’s move to the backpack,” Oliver directed. Gee shuffled the cash, knife, and marker into a pile beside him, but kept the stone in his hand. Ellie put the damp handkerchief in the bathroom along with the trousers before she brought the backpack to the bed.

“You sure you want me to do this?” Gee nodded and slid over a bit so Ellie could lay his possessions on the edge of the bed. “Okay. Sleeping bag.” Mead had her unroll it to confirm there was nothing rolled up in it. She sighed but complied, finding nothing. “Pack main compartment” she said. She began laying clothing on the bed in piles. They were all clean and neatly folded.

“No dirty clothes?” Gee asked.

“Looks like you just did your laundry,” Ellie responded.

“Pockets on the bag?” Mead asked.

“That’s next.” Ellie itemized basic toiletries. “Right pocket: Shaving mug, brush, and a straight razor.”

“A straight razor? Who shaves with a straight-edge razor these days?” Mead asked.

“I could use a shave,” Gee said, stroking his stubble.

“How do you sharpen it?”

“I use my belt as a strop.”

“Is that it?”

“No. There’s a front pocket, too,” Ellie said. “A book. The Odyssey by Homer, a Signet Classic.”

“That could hold a clue,” Mead said.

“How? That I read old Greek myths?”

“That might say something, too. What I meant was, look inside. Any inscriptions? Notes? Bookmarks?”

“Oh, sure.” Ellie opened the book. “Bingo! ‘To Gee, Here’s to your journey. Love, Rae.’ How sweet.”

“Who’s Rae?” Mead asked.

“She’s um… I think… like I know her. She’s my… I should know who she is. I’m… I hope she’s okay.”

“Any reason she wouldn’t be?”

“I just don’t know.”

“There’s a bookmark, too. I’ll try not to lose your place.”

“Bookstore marker?” Mead asked.

“No. It’s a… Hmm. It’s a free admission pass to the Elmont County Fair in Rosebud Falls, August 15-18. Present at the Whirl-a-Gig for a free ride.”

“So, you were here at the fair last year,” Mead said. “That’s something. Someone will know and recognize you in town then. We’ll just have to put a bulletin in the Mirror.”

“That would be good, except this isn’t for last year’s fair. It’s for this year’s,” Ellie interjected.

“This year’s fair isn’t for…”

“…six weeks. Mid-August.”

“Have they even started selling tickets?” Mead asked.

“There’s nothing else on the ticket,” Ellie said. “A picture of the ride. I wonder if they’ll even accept it. It doesn’t really look official.” Gee took the ticket and looked at it, shaking his head. He handed it to Mead. The detective looked it over and gave it back to Ellie, who carefully replaced it in the book. She looked through the backpack and then handed it over to Mead to examine. He felt around it but found nothing else.

“Well, that didn’t help much,” Mead said. “I don’t see that we even need the list.” He handed it to Gee and gave the clipboard back to Ellie.

Mead had been excited to meet the hero when he got to the hospital. He was intrigued and puzzled as they tried to figure out Gee’s identity and discover his memories. Then he got tired and a little grouchy. He’d left his family at the celebration by the river and they were staking out a spot to watch the fireworks at night. He wanted to be there with his kids while they were still willing to associate with their parents.

He pushed his hat back on his head and scratched. “One more thing. Where do you live, Gee?”

Vagrancy

There was a long silence. Mead started to turn away in frustration when Gee finally spoke.

“Here, I guess. I mean, not here in this room, but here in Rosebud Falls. I just don’t have an address yet,” he whispered. Mead and Ellie looked at each other.

“I should have thought of that,” Mead sighed.

“I didn’t mean to create a hardship when I came to town.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mead, why don’t you get back to your family,” Ellie said. “Things are quiet here and Dr. Poltanys wants to run an MRI on Gee tomorrow. I’ll get someone to bring him a hamburger.”

“Well, technically, he’s vagrant,” Mead said. “Can’t do anything about it while you are in the hospital, but when you are released tomorrow, come by the police station. You don’t have enough cash to pay for a room and you have no lodging. Our policy is to put you up for a night at the jail—unlocked cell—and then buy you a bus ticket in the morning. Seems like a harsh way to treat a hero, but I don’t know what else I can do.”

“That won’t be necessary, Mr. Oliver,” said a woman from the doorway. Gee looked up to see an attractive young woman holding a toddler followed by a man who could only be her husband. He almost felt like he should know her, but it was the toddler who held his eyes. “We have a room where he can stay.”

“We heard Mr. Evars lost his memory when he saved our son,” the man said. “It wouldn’t be right to just cut him loose and say goodbye. We’d be planning a funeral now if it weren’t for him.”

They came farther into the room and the toddler set up a squeal when he saw Gee, stretching his arms out to his rescuer. Gee held out his arms in return.

“Are you sure?” asked the woman. Gee nodded, and Devon practically leaped from his mother’s arms. “I’m Marian Panza. Thank you so much for what you did for Devon!” Marian collapsed on the edge of the bed and hugged Gee and her son together. Gee could see her husband hovering over her shoulder and reached out his hand.

“I’m George Evars. Just call me Gee. Everyone does.”

“Nathan Panza,” the young man said, shaking his hand. “I can’t believe Devon got so far away from us. We were all on our blanket getting ready to picnic and the next thing we knew he was in the water. Thank you. All I can say is thank you.” There were tears in the young man’s eyes. Marian loosened herself from hugging Gee and Devon and stood beside her husband.

“It looks like Devon knows his savior,” Ellie said. “Is he that friendly with everyone?”

“Hardly anyone,” Marian said. Devon giggled as Gee tickled him.

“Gee!” the toddler said. “Call me Gee!”

“I am Gee. You are Dee,” Gee laughed.

“Dee! I am Dee!”

“Um… Mr. Evars… Gee… we heard you didn’t have a place to stay. We have a spare room you are welcome to,” Marian said.

“It isn’t much—just the attic, really—but it has a bed and there’s a bath at the foot of the stairs. You can eat with the family. Just until you get on your feet and have a place of your own, you know,” Nathan said.

“Are you sure about this?” Mead asked.

“I’m sure,” Nathan answered. “He saved Devon. What kind of man would I be if I didn’t do this little bit to help him in return? I need help down at the market, too. I’m sure we can get him a job. Then he won’t be vagrant.”

“Hey, that would be great,” Gee responded. Devon finally squirmed back to his mother as she held out her arms. “I appreciate your offer and I promise I’ll work hard and contribute. I don’t want to be a burden to anyone. Whatever I earn, I’ll use to help with expenses.”

“Then consider yourself to have a home in Rosebud Falls,” Marian said. “Ellie, can you call us when he’s released? We’ll pick you up and show you your room, Gee.”

“Thank you. It means a lot to have a home to go to,” Gee said.

“I hope you don’t regret this,” Mead said. Nathan, Marian, and Devon all wished Gee a good night and left. “I’m leaving, too,” Mead continued. “With luck, I’ll still have a family on the riverbank for the fireworks. I’d like you to come by the station after you’re released tomorrow and let us get your fingerprints to run. There’s close to a hundred million fingerprints in the national database. We might find a match.”

“I’ll do that,” Gee responded. “And if I’m in the wrong database, I’ll willingly become your prisoner.”

“I doubt we’ll see that, but I appreciate the offer of an easy arrest,” Mead said. The left corner of his mouth pulled back and his left eye squinted. “Uh… just one more thing. Where do you work?”

Gee cocked an eyebrow at the detective. “If I understood Nathan correctly, I work at the market. He hasn’t told me what I do yet.”

“Oh. Yeah,” Mead sighed. “See you tomorrow.” Gee and Ellie watched his back as he disappeared through the doorway.

“Let’s get the IV out of your arm and see about getting you that hamburger,” Ellie said, moving efficiently to remove the cannula.

Praise the Lord

“Thank our merciful God that you arrived when you did,” a man said as he entered the room. “I came as soon as I heard, but stopped to pray with the Panzas on their way out. As Jesus said to suffer the little children to come unto me, you have given a child the opportunity to know the Lord. A child who might otherwise have perished.”

Gee and Ellie were surprised by the effusive visitor.

“Do you know me?”

“I know that today you became a messenger from God. He used you as his outstretched hand to scoop a child from the raging waters. He blessed us with your presence. I am Pastor Lance Beck from Calvary Tabernacle. I’ve come to pray with you that you might receive the blessing of God’s healing grace and that you might always walk humbly before the Lord.” The man wiped his sweaty palm on his pants before offering to Gee to shake.

“Uh… thank you for your concern, Pastor.”

“Let me ask you, young man, do you know Jesus as your Lord and Savior? You acted courageously in the face of danger this day, and God used your courage to fulfill his purpose. But have you accepted his grace and salvation into your heart? Have you been washed in the blood of the Lamb?” He didn’t let go of Gee’s hand after the shake and Gee could feel it getting slipperier by the second.

The preacher had an overbearing presence that swept all resistance before him. The sheen of sweat on his forehead seemed out of place in the cool atmosphere of the hospital. Gee had an instant distaste for the man and struggled to sit up straighter in the bed.

“Thank you again for your prayers, Pastor. Now if you will excuse us, I was about to get dressed.”

“Of course, of course. I’ll just wait outside and we can have a long chat.”

“That won’t be necessary. Why don’t I look you up in the next week or two and we’ll chat then? I’m sure you appreciate the fact that I have a bit of a headache right now and can’t focus on your message.”

“Let me pray for you healing,” the preacher insisted.

“Reverend Beck, you’ve been warned before about ignoring a patient’s wishes,” Ellie said. “Mr. Evars has made it clear that he doesn’t want you here. If you wish to continue access as a chaplain in the hospital, you must respect the patient’s wishes to be left alone.”

The preacher glared at Ellie, but nonetheless moved away from Gee’s bed. He drew himself up to all of his five-and-a-half feet and smoothed his salt and pepper hair with the hand that wasn’t holding his Bible.

“I answer only to God, nurse, and one day you will be called to answer to Him as well. Pray that on that day Jesus does not cast you aside for preventing the salvation of this wretched man.” The preacher spun without another word and left.

Gee sighed and flopped back against the pillows. “Thank you, Ellie. I hold you blameless in preventing the salvation of this wretched man.”

“The only thing worse than a cop in the hospital is a preacher. And that one is the worst.”

“I don’t much care about religion. It has its place, and as long as they are doing good and helping others, I have no problem.” He fingered the stone that was still in the palm of his left hand. He realized he hadn’t let go of it since he plucked it from the change that had been in his pocket. It calmed him.

“Were you serious when you said you had a headache?” Ellie asked. “We should watch for that.”

“Not much. I can tell I hit my head, but it doesn’t really hurt.”

“Well, as Dr. Poltanys would say, ‘Take two aspirin and call me in the morning.’ Why don’t you get dressed in something comfortable while I see if I can order you a hamburger? I’ll see you after a while.”

The Man in the Mirror

Gee faced himself in the bathroom mirror. Following Ellie’s instructions not to get his bandages wet, he managed to scrub the river residue from his body in the shower. He was no longer light-headed, but was extremely hungry.

Who am I?

The reflection was silent as he lathered his face and began meticulously shaving with the straight razor. Tap water is never really hot enough for a good shave. His beard wasn’t heavily grown, so he must have shaved that morning. Still, there was something comforting about the ritual of scraping the whiskers from his face and neck. It grounded him in the same way the mysterious worry stone did. But still the only answer he received was what he had already said. ‘I’m George Evars. Call me Gee. Everybody does.’

Why am I here?

Wasn’t that the question that all humanity asked? ‘What is the essence of being?’ ‘Why do we exist?’ But for Gee, the question was more immediate. He could remember stumbling into town, hungry and thirsty, but he could not remember getting to town. He must have had some reason to come to Rosebud Falls. What was it?

He thought vaguely that it should concern him more than it did, but when he tried to focus on it, his mind turned away. It seemed more important to determine who he was now rather than who he might have been before. He felt that he was a part of the City. He was simply supposed to be here.

He took one more look in the mirror, picked up the stone from where he laid on the sink, and turned to the main room to pull his sweats and a t-shirt from his bag.

Love at First Sight

“Knock-knock. Is this the hero’s room?” a cheery woman called as she pushed his door open and marched across the room to his bed table with a bag. Gee held his sweats in front of him as he straightened up. She turned and giggled at his predicament. He held his breath as he looked at her, convinced she was an apparition.

Perhaps I should pay more attention to Pastor Beck. I’ve been visited by an angel.

It wasn’t that she was the most beautiful woman in the world. He had just enough objectivity to recognize that it wasn’t physical beauty that had captured him. She was pretty enough for his tastes. Her mocha-colored hair framed a perfectly oval face and fell in waves just below her shoulders. The pale blue tunic blouse, belted at her thin waist, highlighted the deeper blue of her eyes. The shorts she wore stopped just above her knees and showed golden tanned legs and feet encased in leather sandals.

Gee finally remembered to breathe.

“I… uh… ’m not really a hero. I just didn’t have sense enough to stay out of the water.”

“I’m Karen Weisman of The Elmont Mirror. Reporter. You’re news. May I have an interview?” Her eyes hadn’t wavered from his, even while he seemed stunned by her presence. There was a glint of merriment that played about them and tickled at the corners of her mouth.

“I… uh… don’t have my pants on.”

“Yeah. Awkward. I don’t usually get that far on a first interview,” she laughed as she turned her back. “Go ahead and dress. I met Nurse Ellie on the way up here and she was being called by someone else. She asked me to bring you this food. Don’t know what she got you, but it smells good.”

Karen began unpacking the bag while Gee hurriedly stepped into his sweats and pulled them up. She laid a wrapped burger and a huge basket of fries on the bed table and helped herself to some fries.

“Oh, it’s a burger and curly fries from Zeigler’s stand. They’re the best if you don’t have a cholesterol problem.” She turned back to him just as he was pulling a t-shirt over his head. “Ooh. Nice. You’re in good shape. Is that why you felt confident in diving off the bridge to save that little boy?”

Gee got his head through the neck and blushed as she looked at him appreciatively. He spotted the hamburger and made a dash for it. He couldn’t open the wrapper fast enough. The burger was covered with the works—cheese, bacon, lettuce, tomato, grilled onions. He suddenly knew where Mead got the mustard stain on his shirt. He had a second bite before Karen continued.

“You must be really hungry!”

“I haven’t eaten since… in a long time,” he answered. He was unsure of exactly when his last meal had been.

“Well, let’s get this started,” Karen said. She snagged a fry from his basket. “Axel says he can get the story into tomorrow’s edition if I get it to him by ten tonight. It’s already after eight.” She flicked on a small recorder and began. “This is Karen Weisman, reporter for The Elmont Mirror. I’m talking with George Evars who rescued three-year-old Devon Panza from the rushing waters of the Rose River this afternoon.”

“I prefer to be called Gee,” he said.

“G-e-e? Got it. Where are you from, Gee?”

“Uh… up north. Somewhere.” He remembered walking up to the Pub & Grub on the way into town and continuing south until he reached the river.

“Okay, man of mystery. Let’s get right to the point. Why did you take that impossible leap from the bridge into the river?”

“Well, obviously, it wasn’t impossible. Improbable, maybe, according to what I’ve heard.” Karen nodded and motioned for him to continue. “When I got to the railing, I saw Devon tumble into the water. Everything else was automatic. A child was in danger. You have to respond to that.”

“Just like that? No moment of hesitation? No evaluation of the situation to determine the best available action?” Karen asked.

“There was a baby in the river.”

“Wow!”

“I saw other things—was aware, I guess. Marian was screaming and running toward the river. That’s little Devon’s mom. I met them a while ago when they offered me a place to stay. But little Dee…”

“Dee?”

“He heard me say I am Gee and he tried to copy it. We settled on Gee and Dee. He’ll be a force to reckon with in the future.”

“And little Dee?”

“He was already downstream of them when I saw Marian and Nathan running to the shore. I just jumped.”

“That’s a very selfless attitude. Have you done things like this before?”

“I… don’t know.” He hesitated, unsure of how much he wanted to tell Karen. “I… lost a bit of my memory, apparently. The doctor says he thinks it’s temporary—a kind of post-traumatic stress condition. I’m having an MRI tomorrow.”

“I had no idea! Someone should have called me up here a lot earlier,” Karen barked. She opened her purse and grabbed a notepad, on which she began furiously scribbling things that didn’t seem to have anything to do with the recording. “How far back can you remember?” she asked.

“I was thinking a bit ago, and the first solid memory I have right now is seeing the Pub & Grub. I was hungry and thirsty and felt disoriented, but it was closed. I kept walking into town and heard the celebration by the river. I stopped on the bridge to dig a stone out of my shoe.”

“So, you don’t remember anything else? Nothing before that?”

“I seem to have all my cognitive faculties. Dr. Poltanys gave me a memory test and I was able to answer a math question. I have a book that I can read. I know what year the Declaration of Independence was signed. Pretty much anything except about myself.”

“So, you could be a serial murderer or a rapist and just don’t know?”

“If I am, I’ve promised Detective Oliver that I’d turn myself in at once,” he laughed. Karen made a note and reached for another of his fries. He considered whether there was anything in him that felt like an evil man. Evil. He knew that concept and what Karen mentioned was evil. “It’s like this,” he began. “Imagine you are reading a history book. The book has everything that happened for the past thirty years and you can call out every tiny little detail. But the book doesn’t have anything about you in it. If you read about a person, for example, you might imagine that you were once friends or enemies or lovers. But the story doesn’t include that. It only includes the other person, but nothing about how you know her or what kind of relationship you did or didn’t have.”

“You know everything in the world?”

“No. I was just using it as an example. I think everything I know is what a normal person my age would know. Like the name of the president or of the river that runs through town. There are some things I feel like I should know, but I can’t quite bring them into focus.” Gee poured himself a glass of water and drank deeply. Karen reached absently for another fry as she jotted down notes. “Have a French fry,” he chuckled. She snatched her hand back and blushed.

“Sorry.”

“I’m serious. Have some more. Fries always taste better when shared with a beautiful woman.” She looked up into his smiling face and grinned back.

“Glad you put your pants on,” she mumbled as she plucked up another fry. “Can you give me an example of the kind of thing that you think you should know but can’t quite grasp?”

“Um… let’s see.” He reached for the book from his backpack that was still sitting on the table with the things from his pockets. “Like this.” He opened the book. “I know the story generally, and specifically, I know where I stopped reading, though rereading passages isn’t a chore. But I don’t remember the act of reading, I just remember having read it. And here, inside the cover, there’s an inscription. It’s obviously from a friend who knows me well. She writes, ‘To Gee. Here’s to your journey. Love, Rae.’ I know that I know her. I can feel it. But I can’t see her. Is she my sister? Friend? Wife? Co-worker? Schoolmate? She sounds supportive. It doesn’t mention when I got the book. It doesn’t look new. But does that mean that I’ve had it for a long time or that she gave me a used book? I… I just don’t know.”

Karen didn’t want him to stop talking and kept thinking up new questions to ask, even as her deadline drew nearer. She’d thought she was just reporting a quick news brief of a man diving off a bridge to save a child. Instead, she found a man with a missing piece of his life—maybe his whole life up until today.

And when she asked about meeting little Devon, the joy he had in talking about the little boy was contagious. Maybe he was a man who just rescues children. If so… Maybe he can help me. If…

The real story, Karen decided, was not that he dove into a river, but who he was. Strangely, he didn’t seem concerned about that. He talked about what he could and couldn’t remember and Karen ran her own series of little tests with questions about politics, religion, current events, and the world situation. But it was obvious that he talked for her benefit and not his own. She decided that this deserved an in-depth search of the Internet. Everyone could be found on the Internet.

She clicked off the recorder and started putting things away, including taking the empty burger wrapper and fry basket to the trash.

“I need to get the story filed so it will make tomorrow’s paper,” she said as she grabbed her bag.

“I enjoyed talking to you, Miss Weisman,” he said. “And sharing my fries.”

“Puh-lease. I’m embarrassed. They were just so good… But if you want me to call you Gee, you’ll have to start calling me Karen,” she laughed. “Tell me, though; you came to Rosebud Falls from somewhere and lost your memory. Why are you here?”

Because of you.

Gee didn’t speak the words aloud, but after the hour they had spent together, he could think of no better reason to be in Rosebud Falls. Before he could form an answer, a boom shook the windows of the room.

“Oh, look,” Karen said. “You can see the fireworks from your window.”

“Why don’t you stay and watch them with me? There’s really nothing important about me that merits a newspaper article.” Karen turned to find Gee very near to her, looking out the window at the display. She bit her lip before answering.

“I’d like to do that, but I really need to get going.” She offered her hand to shake. A magnetic force seemed to hold their hands together when he took it. Both struggled to regain their composure when they finally unlocked their hands, and their eyes. “I’ll… uh… contact you at the Panzas’ in a few days to schedule another interview.”

“Should I wear pants?”

“Uh… yeah… Until at least the third date… interview. I’ll be in touch.”

Clutching her bag beneath her arm, Karen left the room without a backward glance. She didn’t dare. She wasn’t exactly fleeing, but something told her she needed to be out of the room and out of Gee’s sight before she made a professional error.

Gee watched her go and exhaled. It seemed like he’d been holding his breath the entire time she was visiting. Karen was captivating. He might have had any reason for visiting to Rosebud Falls; Karen was all the reason he needed to stay.

He brushed his teeth and spent another minute looking in the mirror, trying to see what other people saw in him. He didn’t see a hero. His black hair was closely cropped, accenting the hairline that had begun to recede. His ruddy face was plain, marked by a furrow between his eyebrows. He was in good shape but, by Hollywood standards, he wouldn’t call himself handsome.

I’m just me.

He settled into bed and picked up his book, opening again to the inscription. He could almost picture the person writing it, but the image fled. He wondered again if someone was waiting for him someplace out in the world and if he would ever find out who he was.

Who is He?

“So, what do you think, Detective?”

“You know I’m not very good at this. He just seems like a common ordinary guy. Except he lost his memory.”

“Could he be faking it?” the voice on the other end of the line asked.

“That’s what I thought, but Poltanys thinks not. He’s cleverer in his questioning than I am,” Oliver said.

“I want to know who he is and why he is here. Especially now. Is he a stabilizing influence or disruptive? I’m thankful that he saved that kid, but I don’t believe in coincidences. Why was he on the bridge at exactly that moment? Keep an eye on him. I want to know as soon as you have an identity.”

“Yes, sir.”

2
Hickory Roasted Coffee

Brain Scan

“I didn’t really expect that we’d find anything,” Dr. Poltanys sighed as he pointed out the topography of Gee’s brain to him. “There are no signs of brain trauma. Frankly, you are a picture of both mental and physical health. Any new memories that have cropped up?”

“I remembered walking into town from the north and seeing that bar out on the edge of town, the Pub & Grub,” Gee said. “I remember feeling disoriented and thirsty, but the pub was closed. I don’t remember a lot of what I saw as I walked through town. Houses, I guess. A library. The next clear thing was the falls. I wanted water and didn’t feel like I could move. Then Marian, little Devon’s mother, screamed and I ran to see what was happening. I guess we’ve covered everything else.”

“Okay. Let’s count that as a slight expansion. And you mentioned an inscription in the book, but it didn’t trigger a real memory. Try to be aware of images that flash through your mind. Don’t focus on words or what you think of as memories. Just things that seem to be automatic for you and any images that appear. I see you shaved. Ellie told me you use a straight razor. Any problems?”

“None. I was thinking that tap water was never hot enough.”

“Hmm. How would you get it hotter?”

“I suppose I’d put a wet towel in a microwave.”

“That’s good. Something inside has told you how to get your beard softened. Our physical bodies are often triggers for memories. Things that smell familiar. Favorite songs. Whatever feels familiar,” Poltanys said.

“I’ll try to stay aware. It seems simple. Could I ask one more thing?”

“Sure.”

“Is it important?”

“What do you mean?”

“This is hard to explain. I know I must have had a life before Rosebud Falls. I’m thirty-four years old. But, I don’t feel like I’ve really lost anything. I’ll stay aware because everyone seems to think it’s important, but I don’t feel incomplete. Does that make sense?” Gee asked. Poltanys looked puzzled.

“I’ll have to do some reading about this. Most of our scientific studies have been about disease-related memory loss. Sundowner’s syndrome, Alzheimer’s… that sort of thing. There aren’t really that many cases of trauma-induced memory loss. Most of what people know about it is speculative or outright fiction. Looking at it from this side of the equation, we think how terrible it would be to lose our memories and how much we’d miss them. But maybe from your side it doesn’t seem so bad because you don’t know what you’re missing. I’ll let you know if I find anything else.”

“Thanks, Doc.”

“I’m going to release you. I understand you’ll be staying at the Panzas’ house. Please don’t hesitate to contact me if there are any developments or if you experience discomfort. Give us a call in ten days and Ellie will take the stitches out.”

“Um… How do I pay? I don’t have any money, but Nathan says I’ll have a job next week. I can bring some money when I get paid.”

“I’d say not to worry about it, but you seem to be the type who would. We’re a non-profit hospital, funded by various charities and grants. We charge for services, but when we have treatments that can’t be paid for, we have funds to cover them. If you want to pay for your treatment and last night’s room, do some volunteer work. We can always use help. Until then, live your life.” Poltanys scratched something on his clipboard and looked back at Gee. “If you have a headache from the blow, take an aspirin. I’m not prescribing any painkillers. Go.”

“I’m so glad there are no other problems, Gee,” Marian said after she met him in the hospital lobby. “I’m sure you’ll recover your memory soon. In the meantime, let’s get you home and settled in your new room.”

“Thank you, Marian,” Gee answered as he took a squirming Devon from her arms.

“Gee!” said the little boy.

“Dee!” he responded. “Let’s get you in your car seat, little buddy.”

“I some buddy!”

“You sure are.” Gee finished stowing his pack and fastening the seatbelt on Devon’s car seat before sliding into the passenger seat of the Prius. Marian stopped to check Devon’s belts before she started the car.

“You did that like an old pro,” Marian said. “Do you have children?”

“I wish,” he laughed. A puzzled look crossed his face. “That’s like one of the things Dr. Poltanys said to watch out for. I knew how to buckle a child into his seat, but my automatic response to you was that I wished I had children. That tells me I don’t. I wonder why. Children are important.”

“Maybe you were a teacher.”

“Hmm. Say, do you mind if we stop by the police station? I promised Detective Oliver that I’d come in after the hospital to get fingerprinted and photographed. He’s going to see if he can find me,” Gee said.

“We can do that. Doesn’t it make you nervous?”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Most people try to keep their fingerprints out of public records. They feel the less the government knows about them, the better. Here you are and no one knows anything about you and you are willing to be fingerprinted, photographed, and have your information put through all the government databases.”

“I didn’t even consider that. Here’s what I think. I’m a stranger that you invited into your home. If I was some kind of criminal, would you still be comfortable with me living with you? Wouldn’t you want to know?”

“You’re doing this for us?”

“For everyone. I… It’s funny. Maybe I should care about staying hidden, but I don’t. Today, I feel blessed. I have new friends. I have a new home. I have…” he almost said a girlfriend but he could scarcely claim his instant infatuation with Karen Weisman put her in that category. They hardly knew each other. “I have possibilities. I don’t care who I used to be.”

“Then for everyone’s peace of mind, let’s get you fingerprinted.”

A Trustworthy Tenant

“Thank you for coming in, Gee. Sorry about the mugshot. I know it looks like you are a criminal,” Detective Oliver said. “The height background helps to refine a match, but most of the actual work is done by facial recognition software these days. It’s a long time since we had to sit a person down with a book of mugshots to try to get them to identify a perp.”

“I don’t mind. I know everyone will rest easier if they know who I am.”

“Then there is one more thing we can do, but you need to sign a release in order for me to take and submit a sample.”

“What’s that?”

“We can run a DNA test against CODIS, the US national DNA database. It will turn up any match to a known criminal. If there are no matches, the DNA is destroyed.”

“Let’s do it. Do you need my blood?”

“No. It’s called a buccal smear. Basically, I use a cotton swab to wipe the inside of your cheek, drop it in a sterile container and ship it to the lab. There are about ten million samples on file in CODIS, but they are all of convicted or suspected criminals.”

“If nothing else, it would eliminate ten million possible people I could be,” Gee laughed.

“I’ll ask you again, Mrs. Panza. Are you sure you want to do this?” Detective Oliver said. “You’ve got a kind heart, but we don’t know anything about the man you are inviting into your home.”

“Yes, we do,” Marian responded. “We have twenty-four hours of evidence that he is a good man, selfless, and a keeper of promises. He didn’t have to come in to get fingerprinted, photographed, and DNA tested like a common criminal. He did it because he told you he would. And because he believes that if he is a danger to anyone, we should be told.”

“Okay. I’ll buy that. George Edward Evars, in care of Nathan Panza, 683 Joshua Street. You now have an address.” The detective stood and pulled Gee with him a few steps away from Marian. The left corner of his mouth pulled back slightly and he squinted. “Let me tell you, son,” he growled quietly, “if you betray the trust of these people or harm them in any way, I will hunt you down like a rabid dog. I’m watching you.”

“You have my word, Detective.”

Mead Oliver watched Gee leave with Marian and reached for the phone.

“He’s on his way to the Panza house. There’s still no sign that he’s a danger to anyone,” Mead said.

“I’m not as worried about him being a danger to any particular person as I am that he’s a danger to the City. Until I meet him myself, I need your eyes, Mead. Follow them and just make sure you can respond in an emergency for the next hour or so. My gut tells me it will be a boring hour.”

“As you wish. I’m on my way.

The attic room was partitioned with a door that separated it from the stairway. He could stand up straight in the center of the room, but the ceiling sloped down on either side. Against one wall, a mattress and box springs sat on the floor, neatly made up with a bedspread and matching pillow covers. A table and chair claimed the space under the window at the end of the room and the bureau against the left wall was as tall as the half wall itself. Braided rugs were tossed casually around the room on the pine floorboards.

“It’s not much, but I hope you will be comfortable. I’m afraid there’s no lock on the door, but I promise no one will come up here without your permission. I have a baby gate that latches across the bottom of the stairs so Devon can’t start climbing. Don’t trip over it when you come down the stairs. Especially at night.” Marian bounced Devon on her hip, not letting him down to run around the room.

“It’s really lovely. Thank you, Marian.”

“When you’re settled, come down and we’ll have some lunch. Nothing fancy, just a sandwich and soup. Devon is going to get testy if I don’t get him fed.”

“I’ll be there shortly.”

Marian hit the speed dial on her phone as soon as she set Devon down at the foot of the stairs.

“No problems, honey,” she said cheerfully when Nathan answered the phone. “Gee was fingerprinted and submitted DNA for testing. He’s putting his things away upstairs and I’m preparing some soup and sandwiches. Devon adores him.”

“I worry about you,” Nathan answered. “I’m all in favor of helping the guy out, but he makes me nervous. Don’t… you know… get in any compromising positions, okay?”

“Nathan, honey, there isn’t even the slightest spark between us. Not on either part. He’ll be like a brother to us both. Or maybe a visiting cousin,” Marian assured her husband.

“I love you,” Nathan said.

“I love you, too. And so does Devon. I’ll have a nice dinner ready when you get home this evening.”

After she disconnected, Marian went about the task of getting lunch. She wished Nathan wasn’t so insecure, but at the same time she was soothing her own doubts about having the strange man living in her attic.

It was so easy to trust him.

One Eye on Main

Gee skipped down the front steps of the Panza house after an early lunch, intent on exploring his new ‘hometown.’ Within a block, sweat began to trickle down the back of his neck as the July temperature rose into the eighties. A quick three-block walk took him to Main Street.

Main Street, USA. It was almost a cliché. Businesses lined the east side of the street while the west side had just enough room between the street and the railroad tracks for the post office and old depot. The stores and businesses shared common walls between them, but each business was painted a different color. Names on the upper façade declared enterprises founded in the 1800s. The store windows seldom bore the same name.

He stopped to pick up a newspaper just outside the office of The Elmont Mirror, and glanced through the window, hoping to see Karen, He did, but when he saw the expression on her face as she apparently argued with an older man in the office, he moved on without interrupting her day.

Music filled the street outside the local radio station. He looked through the window, directly at the broadcaster sitting behind his desk and microphone. The man waved a friendly salute and Gee returned the gesture. He stepped back toward the curb to get a better look at the broadcast studio.

“WRZF Radio, Rosebud Falls,” read the lettering on the window. At the bottom of the window, Gee read aloud, “With One Eye on Main.” Next to the door was a picture of the announcer and broadcast schedule. The door of the station opened and the broadcaster stepped into the street.

“Hi. Don’t recognize you,” he said. “I’m Troy Cavanaugh. I broadcast the morning show and get out of there as soon as my shift is over.” Gee glanced back at the window to see a young woman settle in behind the microphone and position her headset. She smiled and waved. Apparently, that was standard for the broadcasters who did their shows directly in the public eye.

“Uh… Gee.”

“Don’t be awed. I’m just like everyone else,” Troy said as he held out his hand.

“Oh. Sorry. My name… is Gee.”

“Really? Very interesting. Oh! Wait.” He took the newspaper from Gee’s hand and looked at the front-page article about the daring rescue. A grainy photo, probably taken on someone’s cellphone, showed a man diving off the Fairview Bridge. “That’s you, isn’t it!”

“I… uh… I guess so.”

“You need to come in for a live interview. Can you stop in tomorrow morning? You’re more of a celebrity than I am,” he laughed.

“Not really. I just…”

“I’ll bet Karen wrote this and that slime editor dropped her byline. By nightfall he’ll have convinced half the town that he was the one who saw you, took the photo, and wrote the story. He’ll get his eventually,” Troy said. “I’m heading down to Jitterz. Let me buy you a cup of coffee.”

“That would be great,” Gee answered. “I’m just trying to get acquainted with the town a little.”

“Well, next door to the station here is Citizens Bank, the oldest of our financial institutions. Are you staying in town long?” Troy asked.

“I guess. I live here now.”

“Well, not that I’d ever say this on the air, but rather than bank here, I’d go a block over to First Rose Valley Bank. It’s locally owned and operated. Karl Nussbaum is a good guy and a member of one of the Families. You’ll learn all about the seven Families, I’m sure. His daughter, Krystal, is an absolute knockout. Former Miss Teen Elmont County and first runner-up in the state competition. If she could sing as well as her cousin, she’d have won,” Troy said as they headed south on Main. He seemed quite happy to pass on tidbits of town history and local gossip.

“This is where to come for a great cup of coffee,” Troy said as they approached the complex of shops south of Fourth Avenue. An ice cream shop on the corner connected inside to a lounge with lots of tables where people sat with laptop computers. Large ceiling fans gently stirred the air. The heavenly smell of roasting coffee led them on into Jitterz, the coffee shop and bakery. Beyond, Gee could hear the sounds of an arcade.

“Give us a couple short Americanos, please, Elaine,” Troy said. “Do you need room for cream, Gee?”

“No. Just black.” The response was automatic and an alert went off in his head. I like black coffee. Dr. Poltanys had told him to investigate things that came automatically. His taste buds came alive with the thought of black coffee. He sighed.

“Our coffee isn’t that bad,” the barista said, handing Gee a cup. “You don’t need to be so mournful about it.”

“Oh! Sorry! I was thinking about something else. The coffee is fine.”

“Gee, this is Elaine Nussbaum. She will never forget what you drink. Elaine, Gee is the guy who jumped off the bridge to save that kid yesterday.” Elaine was pleasant enough. She was a bit overweight and spoke softly, but there was a musicality in her voice that belied her looks. “Elaine is one-fourth of the Nussbaum Quartet,” Troy continued. “She has the voice of an angel.”

“No, I’m still not going to sleep with you, Troy,” Elaine giggled.

“That you could think such a thing of me,” he laughed placing a hand over his heart. “Take care of yourself, Angel.” They found comfy chairs in the lounge and Troy watched Gee take his first sip. Gee’s brows went up in surprise. He curiously took another sip and his expression changed again—this time to utter bliss.

“This is amazing.”

“I love watching a person’s face the first time they try Birdie’s coffee,” Troy laughed.

“Birdie?”

“Birdie Lanahan owns Jitterz. And all the other shops in this little complex. Don’t let the name fool you. She’s black as coal and claims to be from Jamaica, mon. But she talks like an Irishman. She got that from her husband, Red. She tells everyone that the coffee is Jamaican, too, but I doubt that as much as I doubt her origins. I’d guess Haiti based on her reputation for voodoo,” Troy said conspiratorially.

“The flavor is incredible. If it’s not Blue Mountain, she must have a secret of some sort.”

“It’s the roasting. Birdie has an old wood-fired roaster that she feeds with our local Rose Hickory. In addition to the flavor of the dark roasted coffee, you get the smoky flavor of our number one resource.”

“The hickory?”

“Yes. A third of our town is covered by the Forest. If you haven’t been out to it yet—and since you’ve been in town only a day, I’d guess you haven’t—you need to make a trip out there. Wood for smoking and roasting is strictly allocated by the foresters. Birdie gets her share,” Troy said.

“That’s amazing. And the coffee is great!”

Grimm’s Market and Meats

Friday, Gee rose early to walk to work with Nathan. Halfway there, they stopped for a cup of Birdie’s coffee, then crossed the river at the southern bridge. South Main was more industrial than the business district.

As far as supermarkets go, Grimm’s was a step above most family stores and perhaps a step below the big chains. It had long been their policy to handle only food and kitchen supplies. People didn’t go to Grimm’s for greeting cards and magazines, but rather for fresh-cut meat and produce.

Nathan led Gee through the store to a stairway at the back. “Rupert is kind of an old-world butcher. He doesn’t want anything on the main floor that isn’t food related. You should have seen the arguments when we added toilet paper and facial tissue to the paper goods aisle,” Nathan laughed. “So, the offices are located up here above the stock room, refrigeration, and receiving. This office is Frieda Grimm’s. In case you didn’t catch it when we were talking at dinner last night, Frieda and Rupert are Marian’s parents—my in-laws. If anything, their divorce clarified the roles within the store. Frieda is CEO and handles all the administrative details, including new hires. I manage the operations below.”

“What about Rupert?”

“He’s the butcher. Much happier slicing meat than he is thinking about how to run a grocery store.” Nathan opened the office door and Gee met an imposing woman he guessed to be in her early fifties. “Frieda, I’d like to introduce George Evars. He prefers to be called Gee. This is the guy who saved Devon’s life Wednesday. He needs a job and I need help with stock downstairs.”

“Of course you do,” Frieda sighed. “Welcome to Grimm’s, Gee. Have a seat and let’s get you ready to work. We’ll be less than an hour, Nathan. Clock him in now.”

“Thank you, Frieda,” Nathan said as he backed out. He acted just a little afraid of his mother-in-law.

“Mrs. Grimm…”

“We’re informal here, so I’m just Frieda. Let’s get the application filled out.” She pushed a form toward him and he quickly filled out two lines before pushing it back. She looked a question at him. “Your name and my daughter’s address. What about job experience? Social Security number?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Identification?”

“I don’t have any.”

Frieda contemplated how to handle this with one hand against the side of her head and her eyes closed.

“Bank account?” she asked. Like every other question, Gee just shook his head. If it weren’t for the fact that he saved her grandson’s life, she’d send him on his way, maybe with lunch from the deli. Maybe not.

It wasn’t difficult to hire an undocumented worker for a day or two, pay them cash and bury the expense. Even before she took over the business side of the operation, Rupert had often enough done that with high school kids and transients. But to have one on the long-term payroll was a special kind of problem.

Her husband and high school students. Frieda shuddered as she glanced out at the front of the store and saw Onyx Grimm walk in. To be fair, Onyx was out of college when she made her play for Rupert. He’d been clueless and easy prey. The horny old goat.

At least I don’t have to put up with that anymore.

Still, she missed some of the good things. They were just so long ago.

Frieda tapped her little finger against her forehead, returning to the matter at hand.

“Okay, here’s how we’ll do this,” Frieda said, getting another form from her drawer. “This is a Form I-9. All official documents from the Immigration office say that a business is only audited if it is near a nuclear or national security site, or if the employer is suspected of abusing undocumented workers. The truth is that it’s easy money for the government, so they routinely investigate small businesses just to collect a hundred to a thousand dollars per illegal employee. Then they run the scam again the next year. It’s pretty much like a protection racket.”

“Perhaps I should just work odd jobs around town,” Gee said. “I don’t want to put you at risk. That’s certainly not why I’m here.”

“Why are you here?”

“I guess I’m only one of several people who want to know that.”

“Well, odd jobs won’t keep you off the police blotter. Fill out the I-9 first page. Name, address, and birthdate. The second page is where I’m supposed to examine your proof of eligibility to work. What I’m going to do is make a note here saying, ‘Identity documents withheld pending police investigation.’ You need to visit Detective Oliver and get a copy of his investigation report so I can attach it to the I-9.”

“I can do that. Detective Oliver has been very helpful.”

“I don’t expect there to be any problem with authorities. Rosebud Falls is a… very tight community. You arrived and became a hero. As long as you don’t mess that up, the whole town will do its best to protect you. However, if you do mess it up, the least of your problems will have to do with the government of the United States.”

“Frieda, I don’t know who I really am, but I know I’m not the kind of person who will intentionally cause harm to this town or anyone in it.”

“Good. You’ll be paid seven-fifty an hour to start. I’ll withhold taxes based on zero deductions, including withholding Social Security and Medicare payments. I will also deduct and escrow a portion of your pay, up to one thousand dollars total over the coming year, to pay any fine levied by ICE. You can expect take-home pay of about two hundred fifty dollars per week and I’ll cash your paychecks since you don’t have a bank account. We pay on Fridays for work done on Friday through Thursday. Nathan will show you how to clock in and clock out. Welcome to Grimm’s Market and Meats.”

“Thank you, Frieda. I’ll work hard to show I deserve your trust.”

A Walk in the Woods

“We’re not regular church-goers,” Nathan said, blushing. “I’m not really that interested. If you’d like to come, it’s okay, but don’t feel obligated.”

“Like we do,” Marian sighed. “That minister, Beck, caught us at a vulnerable moment in the hospital. We were worried we’d miss you and sort of promised we’d come to church this morning.”

“To express our thanksgiving,” Nathan sighed. “I really don’t want to do this, but we promised.”

“I’ll pass, thank you,” Gee said shaking his head. He remembered all too well the overbearing minister at the hospital. He couldn’t blame Nathan and Marian for succumbing to the pressure. “Do you need someone to take care of Devon?”

“No. That, at least is covered. No matter what the preacher wants, I don’t feel comfortable taking Devon there. But Mom has a standing date with her grandson on Sundays,” Marian said.

“It usually gives us some alone time,” Nathan added. He looked longingly at his wife. Gee was about to leave them alone when Marian’s cellphone rang.

“Yes? Oh, hi. Sure, he’s right here.” Marian turned to Gee and giggled. “It’s a girl!”

“For me?” Gee squeaked as she thrust the phone into his hand. “Hello?”

“Hi! It’s Karen Weisman, your trusty news reporter. How are you settling in?”

“Oh hi, Karen. Pretty well. I have a job and have already worked two full days. My boss is pretty tough, but he gave me today off.” Gee winked at Nathan.

“I thought we might continue our little interview this afternoon. Maybe I can show you a little more of our town.” Gee’s heart began racing.

“Tha… that… would be great,” he said. He could feel the color rising in his cheeks. Karen wants to get together! Well… for an interview. “Where shall I meet you and when?” They concluded their arrangements and Gee handed the phone back to Marian.

“A date?” Marian sang.

“Um… Just another interview. I guess I’m not old news yet.”

“Right,” Nathan laughed. “I’m sure you’ll have more fun than we will. Oh. Frieda’s here.”

After they’d eaten at the Golden Dragon, Gee was more than willing to join Karen for a walk. He’d been a bit embarrassed that she’d snatched the bill away from him at the restaurant, proclaiming that it was a business lunch. He’d borrowed twenty dollars from Nathan so he would have enough cash.

Karen led him across town, first stopping by Memorial Park in front of the statue of the Seven Heroes. “The story behind this monstrosity is far too long to tell at one sitting,” she said. “But a lot of our town’s history and not a little bit of our tension are woven into it. I just wanted to point it out so you have a landmark when you visit the courthouse and police station over there. Even a little town like ours can be confusing to a newcomer.”

“Thank you. I remember the police station, but I wasn’t paying too much attention to exactly what was around it,” Gee acknowledged. “And I remember this… clearly,” he said as they approached the bridge over the Rose River.

“Are you… Will you be okay crossing it?” Karen asked. “You didn’t exactly get to the other side the last time you were here.”

“Do you mean, will I dive off the bridge or have some kind of PTSD flashback? I don’t think so. I’m not sure I want to look over the edge at what I dove into, though.”

“This is the quickest way to get into the Forest. There are a lot of access points, but they are all on the east side of the river.”

“Several people have mentioned the Forest,” Gee said. “I’m looking forward to seeing it.”

They crossed the bridge without incident and continued on to the entry.

“This is beautiful.” Something about the Forest kept Gee’s voice hushed—a tone that was almost reverent. “It’s not like a wild forest. But it doesn’t look planted in rows either. It’s just so… neat.”

“I’ve been learning a lot about you today, Gee,” Karen said. “I’ve learned you are a hard worker, a kind man, and you have a nurturing spirit. I wanted to share with you a bit about what makes our little City of Rosebud Falls unique. The Forest is inside the city limits and is open to everyone to walk and explore. But it isn’t owned by the city. It isn’t a public park.”

“Who owns it?”

“Mostly, the Families. The seven founders of Rosebud Falls laid claim to all the land around here and then sold portions to new settlers. Every landowner in the city owns a share or part of a share of the Forest, proportional to the amount of land owned. As the shares were sold, though, most of the Families retained the voting proxies for them. So, the founding Families still control and maintain the Forest.”

“Why? I mean, it’s beautiful, but why the… uh… fanaticism? I don’t know. It just seems like a lot of complications over a few trees. No matter how beautiful they are.”

“There would be no Rosebud Falls without the Forest,” Karen said. “It is a rare type of hickory… Never eat the nuts; they’re poisonous. Its wood is beautiful; the smoke is what makes Birdie’s coffee unique, and even though they are poisonous, the nuts are the main ingredient of a wide range of products from lotions and creams to pigments to chemical products. A small army of foresters patrols and maintains the grounds while every person in the city helps during Harvest when hundreds of tourists descend on our little burgh. The Forest is our lifeblood.”

“So that’s how these seven Families became rich, I suppose,” Gee sighed. “They exploit everyone in order to profit from their private Forest.”

“Oh, no. I wish I could describe this better,” Karen said. “They own it to protect it. Everyone in the city profits from the Forest.”

“A bucolic paradise.”

“I’m not saying everything is perfect about either the Forest or the Families. Believe me, I’ve uncovered some dirt that would make your stomach turn. But what I’m trying to say is that there is a powerful connection between the people of Rosebud Falls and this patch of woodland. You’re new here. You’ll have an easier time relating to people if you understand that connection.”

“What’s this?” Gee and Karen stopped at a chain link fence and looked at the buildings beyond.

“This is Lazorack Lumber Mill. The Lazorack Family started it to process the timber coming from the Forest almost two hundred years ago. It’s still the only place that our Rose Hickory is processed, but of course, that’s a small part of its total output. Logging trucks from the hardwood forests up north bring in raw materials all summer long. Keeps the mill working year-round.”

“What do you want?” They spun to see a thin man with short, graying hair approaching them.

“I was just getting a tour of the Forest,” Gee said. “I’m new in town and was told it was important.” The man looked past Gee and fixed his eyes on Karen.

“Oh. You.” Gee could hear the disdain in the man’s voice.

“We…”

“You look strong. We’ll have work for you at Harvest,” the man said.

“I… My job is at Grimm’s.”

“Everyone works Harvest.”

“Mr. Lazorack, Gee hasn’t had a chance to get oriented yet,” Karen said. “This is just a get-acquainted tour.”

“Get-corrupted tour is more likely. You stir up enough trouble. There’s no reason for you to be fixing things that aren’t broken, Miss Weisman.”

“Only when there is an injustice that we can still remedy, Mr. Lazorack. The embarrassment will be short-lived compared to the honor that will evolve.”

“Just stay away from the Mill,” Lazorack grumbled. “The Forest continues over there.” He pointed across the road before turning to unlock the gate to the mill and locking it again after himself. He didn’t turn back.

“Um…” Gee started as Karen took his arm and guided him across the logging road.

“David Lazorack,” Karen said. “Head of the Lazorack Family and Chief Forester.”

“One of the seven Families?”

“Yes. But he’s not happy about it. Don’t judge the Families by his attitude. His father was killed in a Harvest accident less than a year ago and David was forced into leadership he didn’t think he’d have to assume for years. He’s mostly a good man, but he has his issues, too,” Karen said. They continued through the quiet woodland.

“Gee,” she said, “the DNA test Detective Oliver gave you… you know there are other tests that might reveal more.”

“What kind of tests?”

“Well, the same ones, really. It’s just that the swab he took will only be sent to the criminal databases for a match. There are services though that do family analysis and heritage testing in the same way. For example, it would tell if you were part French and part Zulu—not that I believe you are either,” she laughed. Gee raised an eyebrow at the odd combination. “They were just nationalities I thought of that were extreme,” she explained. “But these tests are voluntary. They are non-government and retain the DNA signatures. People even volunteer family history to go with their DNA sample. If you submitted a sample, they might find a close enough match to identify at least a potential relative.”

“I’m willing to do that, Karen, but why?”

“I chose to become a reporter because it allows me to stick my nose in everyone else’s business,” Karen said. “In another life, I was probably Nancy Drew. You are a mystery I want to solve. If you’ll let me. More than anything, I want to know why you are in Rosebud Falls. Especially now.”

“Why especially now?”

“The City is on the verge of a crisis. A lot of people will be upset. Maybe even the Families. We don’t have such a huge population that one person can’t make a difference. Sure, Detective Oliver wants to know if you are a criminal. I want to know if your influence will affect the outcome of our changes.”

“Wow. That’s heaping a ton of expectation on a guy who just wandered into town and can’t remember more than his own name. I’m not here to change things. I just want to settle down and be a productive citizen.” Gee paused and tried not to look directly at Karen as he added, “Maybe get married and raise a family.”

Perilous Times

“Our reading this morning is from the Gospel of Matthew, chapter five, verses ten to twelve,” intoned Deacon Stewart.

Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness’ sake: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake.

Rejoice, and be exceeding glad: for great is your reward in heaven: for so persecuted they the prophets which were before you.

“May God add his blessing to the reading of his Holy Word.”

“Amen.”

“The Word of God can be difficult for mere men to comprehend. Even when we believe we understand the words, we may not know how they apply to our lives. We are blessed to have called into our service a great interpreter of the Word of God—a true shepherd of his flock. Let us empty our hearts and our minds and prepare to receive God’s blessing. Pastor Beck.” Stewart moved aside as Lance Beck strode to the pulpit and mounted the step behind it so he could see over the top.

“Brothers and sisters, we live in perilous times,” Pastor Beck began.

“Amen.”

“You might think I refer to perils of the flesh—to Islamic terrorists, pornography, homosexuals, illegal aliens, and government infringement of our God-given rights—but I speak not of physical danger. Our bodies are temporary vessels. What matters it if we die in an auto accident on our way home this afternoon? What matters it if a terrorist’s bullet finds my heart? It will do naught but liberate my soul from this mortal flesh.

“No, my brothers and sisters, it is not peril to the body of which I speak, but peril to our souls. For we as a church—as children following the Lord—will be reviled, persecuted, and falsely accused. We cannot hope to escape this peril. If we are doing the work of the Lord then we can expect it! It is guaranteed that people will hate you for your faith. We can expect persecution around every corner, for the world is not a Godly place.

“But how, my friends, will you respond to that persecution? If you were put on trial for your faith, would there be enough evidence to convict you? That question spells out the peril to your soul. Will you rejoice and be glad—stay faithful and true in the face of revilement, persecution, and false accusations? Or will you, like an undisciplined child, pay no heed to the frantic calls of your Heavenly Father, and instead plunge into the turbulent rapids of damnation?”

Deacon watched the congregation attentively. He’d held this office and run the church so long that even people unassociated with the church called him ‘Deacon’. The name was his identity. The church was his domain.

Pastor Beck continued his moving sermon. They’d chosen the pastor well. For years now, he’d been building the congregation with many families from outlying farms and communities—a dynamic engine of evangelism. And each new family brought new children.

They would not, of course, siphon off the children of locals. They needed the testimony of the families to show how effective the church’s training in obedience was. Beck’s reputation as a deprogrammer of homosexuals, potheads, and rebellious children was a draw across the nation. Their children’s ‘camp’ was full. And with the discoveries they’d made over the past few years, the programming success was deemed irreversible and undetectable. Perfect little boys and girls who did whatever they were told. Whatever.

That was a preview of City Limits. To read the rest purchase the book.

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