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Serial

Apr 07
0

Night Train

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Rhea didn’t want Strickland to leave. She needed his power, his confidence, his calm. She willed her mind to remember something, anything – some perfect and stunning tidbit that would lead him straight to Aggie. But nothing came. And he left. She kept staring at the closed door. She was on one side, and Aggie was somewhere outside, lost in the night. She hung on to that unbearable thought as though following it through the dark labyrinth of her imagination would lead her to her sister. But she couldn’t follow the path in her mind. She was tired. She shouldn’t be tired, her sister was missing and it was her fault – she should never ever sleep again until Aggie was home. Her eyes kept closing. What a terrible sister she was.

Stel put her thumb and forefinger on Rhea’s chin and turned her face to her own.

“Are You listening to me?”

Rhea nodded, trying to focus on what her mother was saying.

“I have to stay here, for when Aggie comes home.”

Rhea nodded again, wondering where this was going.

“Your father can’t go, look at him, he can’t even get out of that chair.”

It started to become clear. Yes! Someone in the family needed to go find Aggie because, as Stel pointed out, “That cop doesn’t know Aggie, doesn’t love her like we do. His heart isn’t in it. And she won’t be looking for him, she’ll be looking for one of us.”

“I can go…?” Rhea answered, a little unsure but as Stel firmly nodded while looking into Rhea’s eyes, Rhea became certain. This made sense. All except the details. “How will I–?” Rhea tried to make a plan–

Stel cut her off, she already had this figured out. “Trains run all night. Especially now. Christmas. Go pack a few things and I’ll take you to the Fullerton Station.”

Wow. This was really happening. Rhea felt a jolt of adrenaline and of relief. This was good. This would work. She’d find Aggie like she’d always done and everything would be back like it was.

Rhea jammed a skirt, a pair of jeans, two T-shirts, underwear, toothbrush and a picture of Aggie into her little round black patent leather case with embossed pink ballet shoes on it then zipped it up as Stel hovered, impatiently.

“Ready?”

Rhea nodded. Stel grabbed her keys. As they left, Rhea glanced at her father, searching for something in his eyes – love or at least a goodbye – but there was nothing there. She closed the door behind her.

Stel held the car door open for Rhea, trying to hurry her along. Rhea slid in. Stel hurried into the driver’s side and, not bothering to buckle her seat belt, drove them away.

At one forty nine, the Fullerton train station was still had a few people. Happy people, laughing people, setting down armloads of packages to hug their loved ones who’d come to welcome them home for the holidays.

Stel gave Rhea a ticket and a hundred and seventy-one dollars.

“It’s all I have in the house.” she said as she thrust it at Rhea. “It should be plenty for some food and a motel for a few nights.”

“Thank you.” Rhea told her mom, straining with the sudden uneasy formality.

Stel nodded and turned to leave. Almost as an afterthought, she grabbed Rhea and hugged her hard and fast. Rhea hugged back. “I’ll find her, mom. I promise.”

Stel let go. “I have to get back, in case–” Rhea nodded. Stel hurried away. Rhea got on the train alone. No one waved goodbye.

The train slipped past warehouses, trailer parks, freeways and the Firestone tire factory which was built to look like a castle.

“Is she in there?” Rhea wondered as she strained against the dirty train window trying to see a glimpse of Aggie. Or in one of those trailers? Or in that laundromat? Or that Taco Bell? So many places to look…

The magnitude of the task ahead started to creep in. But for now, Rhea just focused on looking out that window. Sometimes she glanced at the blank notepad. In the course of the thirty three minute train ride to LA, all she could think to write was: bluebirds.

Apr 08
0

Rustic Imports

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One hour before Rhea got on the train, twenty-six miles north, in an alley behind Palmetto Street, Leland Hays stood on the loading ramp of his downtown LA furniture warehouse and peeled off three hundred dollars from a roll of bills and handed the money to Panama Jones.

“You told me five or six—“ Panama reminded him.

“I had to take out for gas, insurance, wear and tear—” Leland explained.

Panama wasn’t happy. “I gotta pay for that too?”

Hays went on, “You only got one girl. Don’t get me wrong, one’s OK but—five or six hundred for one? We’re trying to do these girls a favor here, right? Their new… ‘employers’… are paying me a little something but no one’s getting rich, here.”

Panama nodded, he understood. He gestured toward the closed steel door at the top of the ramp. “She still goin’ to Beverly Hills?”

“Yep. To a great family.” Hays assured him, then added, “Remember, no one knows we do this. Government wouldn’t like us not payin’ them their immigration fees–”

“I know.” Panama interrupted–

“We’d all be in deep shit—“ Hays went on, emphasizing “all”.

“I know.”

“Good.” Hays said, like a threat. “Come back by in a few weeks— I’ll have more work.”

Panama nodded and walked away, past the blue van parked in a spot in front of the warehouse, next to an old Mercedes and an ’88 Camry. He headed toward the bus stop on Fourth Street. Something felt weird to him but, he had a few joints in his pocket to smooth it all out.

Back inside his warehouse, Hays went into his office and looked around. “Larry?” he called out.

“Over here.” came a male voice. Hays followed it back outside to the top of the ramp where the furniture that was in the blue van had been unloaded. The door to the rustic cabinet was open. Inside the cabinet, Aggie was sound asleep. A balding man in his thirties, Larry Ozrin, pointed at her, smiling. Hays agreed with a smile. “Blond. Yeah–” He rubbed his fingers against his thumb in the gesture of “money.”

Ozrin nodded, “How much?”

“Extra five grand.” Hays told him. Ozrin reeled, “C’mon, man–”

“Firm.” Hays wasn’t negotiating. After a minute, Ozrin agreed. He handed over a neat stack of cash to which he added five thousand dollars.

“You’ll make that back in a week.”

“Easily.” Ozrin admitted then he lifted Aggie out of the cabinet and carried her, still sleeping, out to his Camry. He put her in the back seat, wrapped in a blanket. He drove off, keeping well within the speed limit.

May 24
0

Paradise Motel

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Almost two hours later and six city blocks away, Rhea’s train slid into Union Station. It was three in the morning and almost busy. She followed fellow travelers through the cavernous hall; hurried past a gloriously huge Christmas tree and slipped through the front doors into the night. It was cool in LA. And misty.

Rhea stopped dead in front of the station, mouth agape at what she saw: Blocks of high rises mixed with Deco buildings, wide streets and Our Lady Queen of Angels church – all asleep for the night. But the streets were alive with cars. The sheer vastness of it stunned her. Scared her. Threatened her. And this was just a corner of it. She couldn’t move – didn’t know which way to go – didn’t know where to start looking.

“Bad place to stop.” A woman snarled at Rhea as she slammed into her on the busy walk outside the station.

Rhea started walking. Then she stopped. She unzipped the patent leather bag, grabbed the photo of Aggie and ran after the woman. “Wait! Wait –” she cried as she caught up to her and grabbed her arm. The woman stopped. Rhea showed her the picture. “Have you seen this girl?” The woman looked at the picture and shook her head, backing away from Rhea’s pain. Rhea shoved the picture into the faces of anyone she could who was leaving the station. She followed them into the parking lot and onto the street. “Have you seen her? Have you seen this girl?” Nineteen, twenty, thirty five times. No one had. A Security Guard finally shooed her away. “Take that business somewhere else.”

Rhea crossed the street and started walking up Cesar Chavez Boulevard. Away from the hub of the train Station, a darker vibe set in. There were few homeless back then but the sight of them huddled in doorways, asleep on cardboard, their arms around the wad of bags and rags that were theirs – shocked Rhea. She hurried past them and crossed the street toward Chinatown. Someone in a car driving by hissed at her, “Tasty Girl…” Another car pulled to the curb a few yards up. As she passed by, a man opened the passenger door, his big dick swinging free at her, the smell of stale piss and cum penetrating the mist. She ran.

At the end of the block, two teens huffing Krylon hung out in a little parking lot. As Rhea stopped on the corner, they checked her out. As she waited for the light to turn green, they moved closer. The light turned. She started to cross. They hurried closer. In the middle of the street she suddenly turned and swung her case at them, smacking the bigger one straight across his jaw, freaking them out. She ran, across the street and up a long block. Ahead she saw the sputtering purple and green neon strips that framed the Paradise Motel. It was open.

A ninety-pound woman with a popcorn ball in one hand and a tv remote in the other waved at a sign that said “NIGHTLY RATES $45.00.” when Rhea asked her how much was a room. Rhea handed over the cash. “Checkout’s at noon.” she informed Rhea and gave her a key.

Inside room 27, Rhea locked the dead bolt. She fell on the bed, holding the picture of Aggie close to her. She fell instantly asleep. She slept for fourteen hours.

Apr 09
0

Petunia Print

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On Christmas Eve, Aggie woke up on the floor of a partitioned two-car garage. She was still wrapped in the blanket. There was a band of fading light at the bottom of the garage door. The day was ending.

A door in the partition was open. A man walked by wearing a bathrobe, smoking a cigarette.

“Can we get this going, Ozrin? I have a dinner–” he asked someone.

Aggie could see another man, behind a video camera that was on a tripod. Larry Ozrin.

“Just let me set the exposure here–” he answered.

“You’re not gonna show my face–” the bathrobe man warned.

“No one cares about your face, Don.” Ozrin replied.

“Cause I have a call-back on a pilot next week…” Don rambled on as Ozrin looked up and saw Aggie in the doorway.

“OK kid, come here.” He ordered Aggie.

Aggie stepped into the other half of the garage. In one corner there was a mattress on the floor, lit by a Home Depot work light. A sheet with a petunia pattern stretched across it. A video camera was pointed at the mattress.

Aggie looked around. There was no way out. She put her hand in her pocket and felt around for the little blue feather. She found it. She put it in her mouth and swallowed it.

“OK” she told Ozrin and walked toward him.

There was a song in the sixties by one of the famed “wall of sound” Phil Spector girl groups, the Shirells. The song was “Leader of the Pack”. To quote that song, “Get the picture? Yes, we see…”

Apr 08
0

Frankincense

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Rhea woke up in room twenty-seven at the Paradise Motel, a little before six on that same Christmas Eve. She turned on the tv and watched the news while she peed, washed, brushed her hair and ate the two packs of peanut butter stuffed cheese crackers that were in a little basket on the night stand. There was no news on tv of Aggie. She left her room and went to the payphone. She called home. Stel answered. “Mom!?” Rhea cried, so happy to hear her voice. “Did you find her?” Stel asked, her voice like a raspy knife. “No, but–” Rhea answered. Stel interrupted. “Call back when you do. I have to keep the line open.” She hung up. Rhea put the phone in its cradle and left the booth. She didn’t have a clue what to do or where to go. All she knew was that she was alone and she needed to find her sister. As she started to walk back to her room to get her case, someone shoved her from behind. Hard. She fell.

“Paradise is mine. You got ten seconds to get on outta here.” A girl’s voice spat at her. Rhea looked up at an eighteen-year-old in shorts short enough for half her cooze to squish out. Rhea wondered if she was cold.

“OK.” Rhea answered, not quite understanding, “I just gotta get my suitcase.”

As Rhea got up and headed to her room, the girl followed her, pushing into the room as Rhea opened the door.

The girl spotted the ballet case and tore into it, finding the one hundred and sixty-three dollars that Rhea had left. She took it and leaned against the doorway.

“Now get outta here.”

Rhea zipped up the case. As she walked past the girl, she showed her the picture of Aggie. “Can I ask you something? Have you seen this girl?” The girl looked at the picture. “Who’s that?”

“My sister.” Rhea told her, “She got kidnapped. I gotta find her.”

The hard girl kind of crumbled, “Aw, man… No.” she shook her head and gave Rhea back the money. “That’s bad.”

“Yeah.” Rhea agreed.

It was nearing seven and way past dark. The boulevard got quieter as Christmas Eve moved toward night. Rhea spent the next three hours walking the streets of Chinatown, asking every person who would stop if they’d seen Aggie. No one had. She asked twenty three waitresses in fourteen Chinese restaurants. She asked the night manager at Madam Wu’s. She asked thirty seven store clerks, three bus drivers and sixty four people driving cars who had stopped at the red light On Broadway and Cesar Chavez. She got nothing.

Rhea crossed back over Cesar Chavez and sat on the bus bench at Spring Street. The smell of frankincense floated by, reminding her of church. And God. And how much Aggie liked God. She took the smell as a sign and followed the ancient scent across Alameda street to old Olvera.

May 27
0

Lake Hollywood

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Six miles north across the city and slightly west, Ozrin backed his Camry out of his garage and eased onto Barham Boulevard. Usually the thoroughfare that slices between the valley and the Hollywood hills was busy. But it was late, almost midnight. Ozrin opened his window to a mist that muted the late night sounds of the city’s Christmas Eve. He didn’t mind Christmas. The lights were nice and he had a party to go to tomorrow, an un-Christmas breakfast for those away from their families. He was bringing bagels from Sam’s on Larchmont, and a bottle of Trader Joes champagne.
 
Ozrin eased the Camry up Barham, careful to follow the speed limit.  He stopped at the yellow light, he did not rush it. He waited for the left turn arrow to turn green then turned on Lake Hollywood Drive. He followed it up through the  eclectic Estates to a ridge overlooking the Hollywood reservoir. It was deep blue and as still as glass under the sliver of a moon that barely shone down. There was a walking path around its three mile circumference but it closed at dusk. Now No one was there – not a car, not a soul, not a witness. That was good. Ozrin followed the road down to the reservoir. Three coyotes darted out from the fields on either side and jaunted alongside the Camry before crossing over in front of him, on their way to the woods that surrounded the water and crept up a hill toward the Hollywood sign. He smiled; they were skinny and looked hungry. That was good.
 
About halfway down the half mile stretch of road that ran alongside the water, there was a ramp. It was closed off by the chain link fence that ran around the water but there was enough room for the Camry to pull over. He backed up as close to the fence as he could get. Moving fast for someone out of shape, Ozrin got out, popped the trunk open and lifted out a thirty-five pound bundle wrapped in a dark green towel. He heaved it over that fence into the brush and drove away.

Aggie landed face-up on a bed of leaves and moss. She thought about Poo and the Christmas cookies she hoped to eat soon, as she waited for Rhea to find her. It was cold lying there; wearing only her green jacket with kittens embroidered on the pockets.

Aggie looked up and whispered her prayer, “Please God, help Rhea find me. I want to go home.”

Soon enough, she heard the rustle of footsteps on leaves. “Rhea!” she called out, as loud as she could but she could barely hear her voice, “I’m over here!”

Aggie tried to get up but she couldn’t move. As the footsteps got closer, she looked up to see Rhea’s face through the trees, hoping she’d have something sweet to eat. Instead she saw the glitter of grey eyes. And she knew. Coyotes had come to eat her.

To Be Continued…

Apr 09
0

Almost

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Rhea woke. A homeless man was clawing at the bread in her pocket. Her scream muffled into the damp of his dirty clothes but it scared him off. She untangled herself from the straw and made her way back across Alameda. She walked east on Cesar Chavez, up a little hill and over an old gothic bridge. The only sound was the numbing whoosh of cars on the freeways below and the sputtering hiss of an old neon sign on a shuttered, rundown bar across the street called Domingos. As she started to cross Pleasant Street, a sudden, loud THWAP! startled her and the air around her moved. She turned, looking out over the City. The lights glittered under a starless sky. The thwap! had disturbed the mist and it moved and fluttered like a thousand wings. The beauty of it stunned her.

“Aggie?” she whispered though she didn’t know why. She remembered this was The City of Angels. She hoped like hell that Aggie wasn’t one of them and that she was alive.

“Aggie!” she screamed as loud as she could. It echoed out over the warehouses and train tracks below the bridge where she stood. It echoed out over the cars on the freeways, hurrying home and it echoed out over the glittering city as the mist settled back down and a chill settled in.

Nov 30
0

A Path

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When Aggie was tossed over that Reservoir fence, she landed face-up on a bed of twigs and moss. She thought about Poo and the Christmas cookies she’d get to eat soon, as she waited for Rhea to find her. It was cold lying there; the green jacket with kittens embroidered on the pockets clung to only one of her arms. She repeated her whispered prayer, “Please God, help Rhea find me. I want to go home.” She heard the rustle of footsteps on leaves, coming closer. “Rhea!” she called out, as loud as she could but she could barely hear her voice, “I’m over here!”

She tried to get up but she couldn’t move. As the footsteps got closer, she looked up to see Rhea’s face through the trees, hoping she’d have something sweet to eat. Instead she saw the glitter of two sets of grey eyes. And she knew. Coyotes had come to eat her.

The coyotes crept close. Their breath felt nice on Aggie’s bare feet, it felt warm. But she was afraid. She tried to think of other things, like blue birds flying free and the smell of grass in spring but it was hard to concentrate. She could still move her eyes so she decided to look the coyotes in their eyes and ask them to please leave enough of her behind for Rhea to find. And when she looked down, she saw…

Tamarind! Alive again, standing on her knee, waving her broken leg at the coyotes, yelling, “Leave her alone! She’s been a good a friend to me!”

But the coyotes were hungry. With bared teeth and a low growl, they lunged for her. Tam opened her hairy little mouth and bit one of their legs. He howled and fell back, landing on a nearly empty Cheetos bag. The cheesy smell puffed out. They snatched it up and took it behind a creosote bush to lick up the last little crumbs. Tamarind wobbled up to Aggie’s face, walked right through her tears and settled on her cheek just below her eye. “Hello my friend.” she said.

”I thought you were dead.” Aggie whispered, so very happy to see her.

”Not any more.” Tamarind smiled, “Thank you for your prayer.”

Aggie smiled back but it quivered, “I’m cold, Tam.”

”I’m sorry.”

”Do you think my sister will find me?” Aggie asked, hoping Tamarind had some inside information.

“Not here she won’t.” Tamarind said then peered into the dark woods. “We need to get to the top of that hill.”

”OK.” Aggie said, feeling hopeful. Then she tried again to move. “I can’t get up.” she cried.

“It’s OK. Don’t cry. I’ll get some help.” Tamarind promised. She wobbled off of Aggie’s face and jumped down into the brush.

A moment later, out of the shadows, came a single whispered word: “Cake!”

All of a sudden the entire floor of the wooded bramble started to ripple and move as thousands and thousands of ants, sal bugs, silverfish, beetles and other spiders too – scurried out from under holly oak leaves, rocks and weeds and gathered around Tamarind, fueled by the promise of cake. Maybe it would be strawberry shortcake (made with biscuits and real whipped cream), or lemon pound cake drizzled in glaze or butterscotch caramel… or blueberry cheesecake with raspberry mousse or French vanilla cake covered in buttercream roses or blue velvet with cream cheese icing or maybe even a Christmas jelly roll or two. The bugs all had only one thought:

“What do we need to do?”

Tamarind pointed at Aggie.” Get underneath this girl; under every single part.”

The bugs crawled beneath Aggie and filled every nook, every cranny, every crevice.

“Are you ready?” Tam asked Aggie.

“Yes.” Aggie nodded,

Tam looked at the bugs, “OK. Carefully, carefully, carefully… Ready, set… Move!”

The bugs lifted Aggie up. It was just a tiny bit, a fraction of a fraction, you had to look really close to see but… as Tamarind started wobbling up an incline, into the moonless, misty woods, the bugs followed her, carrying Aggie on their backs.

The odd little procession marched steadily through a tangle of bushes and leaves. They carried her right past the two coyotes, who were still hungry. They couldn’t believe the feast parading before them. They crept closer and closer, ready to pounce.

Tam could feel them closing in. She turned her head and hissed, her words hitting them like spit:

“God will be mad if you do!”

Undaunted, the coyote named Ralph declared, “I don’t know if we believe in God. We’ve never seen him.”

“Well, then…” Tam argued, as the bugs paused the procession, “There’s karma to consider.”

“Huh?” Ralph pondered so Tam explained,

“If you do good, good comes to you. If you do something bad, bad will happen to you.”

“But we’re hungry!” the coyote named Lacey explained. “How is that bad? And besides, the little girl is nearly dead and it wasn’t us who killed her.”

“Ok ok ok but consider this:” Tam went on, “If you help us get her to the spot where she’ll be found, it will be a really nice thing to do. And nice things always end with…”

“Cake.” Ten thousand bug voices confirmed.

Or…” Tam added, honestly, “…at least they should.”

Ralph and Lacey looked at each other and considered everything. “OK.” they said, in unison, “Sign us up.”

“You, then. Over there.” Tam directed Ralph to take a position at Aggie’s feet. Lacey took her place at Aggie’s head. “You are to guard us.” Tam ordered. They nodded, earnestly then Tam reminded them,

“And don’t eat anyone.”

With a wave of Tam’s arm, they continued their journey.

As the mist settled in, they carried Aggie under a broken part of the fence, across a little road, over a patch of rocks, through a thicket of scrubby brush and into a grove of dark red Manzanita trees. The night was quiet. The only thing heard was the soft rustle and crunch of dirt and leaves and the breathing of ten hundred thousand bugs, carrying a heavy load. Sometimes there was a snippet of conversation as strangers became friends.

“Do you know of any good parties on New Years Eve?” one bug asked another, and “Where did you get that hat?”

A peace settled over them as they soldiered on. When they were about one-third of the way up, coming through a gnarly patch of thistle, the slithery tongue of a lizard lashed out at the seven hundred and ninety three ants carrying Aggie’s hand. They screamed and cowered. With a whack of a paw, Ralph sent the lizard flying. The ants righted themselves, everyone thanked Ralph for his quick response and everyone carried on. When they were almost half-way up, a sal bug spotted an old MacDonald’s bag and hollered,

“Food!”

“Keep walking.” Tam ordered, “I’ll get it.” She looked inside the bag but only the bun was left. She dragged it back to the group and everyone got a crumb. Fourteen ants crawled onto Aggie’s face and offered her their share.

“No thank you.” she said, her voice getting weaker, “You need it more than me.”

They ate their snack high up on Aggie’s nose, cooled by the fog, until two huge clawed feet swooped down, aiming for Aggie’s head. They screamed and Lacey leapt up. She grabbed the owl’s leg in her teeth and flung it back into the sky. They all walked on, a little weary, a little unnerved but still dedicated to their journey. To stave off their fears, some of them started to hum, then sing an old Bob Dylan song:

“You must leave now, take what you need you think will last. But whatever you wish to keep you better grab it fast.” Those who knew the song joined in… “Yonder stands your orphan with his gun; crying like a fire in the sun. Look out, the saints are coming through. And it’s all over now, baby blue…”

They made it through a patch of mud and past two sleeping raccoons. They started to think their troubles were over when they came upon a gigantic boulder that was way too big to go over. To the right of the boulder was the dark, dark forest. To the left it was very dark too. If Tam chose the wrong direction they could get lost and never make it to the top.

“Please God.” everyone prayed, “Show us the way.” Then they waited.

After a little while, a sliver of light fluttered down to the ground and landed on the left side of the boulder. It was a piece of Christmas tinsel. Tamarind took a few steps to the left, looked around that side of the boulder and gasped. Everyone followed, Everyone looked and everyone gasped, too.

“What is it?” Aggie whispered. An extra thousand bugs wriggled under her head and managed to push it up enough that she could see: In the blackness of the night, in the dark of the forest, a silver trail emerged, winding up the hill as a blue parakeet dropped bits of tinsel that lead the way.

”Tyrone!” Aggie cried out with one of the last bits of life she had. Tyrone fluttered his wings at her and flew on, lighting their way.

They followed the silver trail, up and up. In the distance, the faint sound of an old recording of the Temptations singing “Silent Night” started to play. Out of the shadowy mist came the almost melodic “meow” of a familiar cat voice trying to sing along. Suddenly, there was Poo, looking a little tired and a little bit thin but so happy to be with Aggie again. She nodded to Tam in apology and nuzzled Aggie’s hand as she joined the procession.

The forest started to thin. Soon they reached a ridge near the top of the hill, over which the letters of the Hollywood Sign loomed, hazy in the night’s mist. Just below was a line of houses; their back patios were set on the ridge. The patios were decked out in palm trees and yucca plants, hung with Christmas lights and tinsel. And on little tables under almost every tree were plates of cookies and cake left out for Santa Claus: yule log cakes, sprinkle cookies, chocolate chip cookies and frosted scones. There were shortbread and gingerbread cookies and lemon pound cake; red velvet, vanilla, rainbow and devil’s food cupcakes piled high with frosting. And carrot cake for the reindeer, peanut butter cookies which would be nice for Poo and candy canes everywhere.

The ten hundred thousand bugs marched right past, keeping time to the Temptations’ Christmas song, following their leader, Tam, carrying their precious cargo. Tamarind walked ahead to a little, deserted stone and stucco house that kind of crumbled down the side of the hill. At a small level spot she turned and looked at the view. Before her lay the whole little forest. It hugged the Hollywood reservoir. Just beyond that, the lights of LA glittered like diamonds reaching clear to the horizon. Tam waved to the bugs.

“Here.” She said.

The bugs set Aggie down, on that spot. They backed away. Tamarind wobbled up Aggie’s arm, then her shoulder, then onto Aggie’s face. She looked her in the eye.

“How are you doing?”

”I’m tired.” Aggie barely whispered.

“I know.” Tam replied. “It’s almost time for you to decide…” Aggie looked at her and Tam went on, “After you die you can stay here and wait for your sister or you can leave and go to heaven then get reborn whenever you want.” Aggie struggled. It was hard to decide. “Let’s all pray.” Tam told the bugs and coyotes. Everyone bowed their head and thought their very best thoughts.

After a minute, Aggie turned to Tamarind and said, “I want to stay.”

”OK.” Tamarind cuddled up on Aggie’s cheek. The bugs and coyotes surrounded them and softly joined in the last chorus of a Motown “Silent Night”. “Sleep In heavenly peace….”

Just then, the light went out in Aggie’s eyes and she died.

Aggie’s Soul rose up… an ethereal, shimmering slip of light in the shape of a girl. It slowed a little as it rose then stopped in the branches of a tree. After a pause – just three seconds or so – it fluttered back down. The shimmering stopped and it looked and sounded just like Aggie. She sat with Tamarind and watched Ralph and Lacey dig her grave then put her body in it, whole, and bury it.

A group of ants walked towards the houses while the new dead Aggie, Tamarind, Ralph, Lacey and most of the bugs sat out on the ridge by the grave, together. Soon, the ants returned carrying big hunks of cake, seven different kinds, which they shared with everyone. They all looked out over the ridge at the lights of LA and ate. Friends now forever.

“I am a long way from Normal Road.” Aggie said.

“She’ll find you.” Tamarind comforted her.

“I know.” Aggie nodded.

To be continued…

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