DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. If you are offended by 
sexually explicit material or are under the age of 18, stop reading 
now. This material cannot be reproduced for commercial purposes 
without the consent of the author.

Glen Wiseman
By
Lazlo Zalezac
Copyright (C) Lazlo Zalezac, 2003

Chapter 19

For the first time in ages, Glen had spent an entire week at home 
alone. The twins were in New York attending the conference. They 
had called last night excited about the Broadway play they had 
seen earlier. Their excitement had pleased him, since he had given 
them the tickets for the play on their birthday as a present. They 
were taking the moonlight tour around the city on a boat tonight. 
He figured it would be another couple of hours before they called.

For the past year he had been having sex two and three times a 
day. He should have appreciated the break, but found himself more 
horny than ever before. It didn't seem like it had been that long ago 
that he had gone for several years without a woman in his life. 
Things had changed so much in his life, that he didn't feel like the 
same person any more. 

For the moment, he was rather perturbed that Cliff had chosen to 
stay at the other house. He had wanted to stay there with him, but 
Cliff had said that he was going to entertain CJ and that this was 
the last chance they would have alone. Glen understood, but he felt 
like Cliff was taking undue risk. In fact, he felt that Cliff had 
placed him in undue danger. He paced the house trying to decide 
what to do. 

He looked outside, trying to see if there was anyone out there. 
There was a full moon tonight, but the sparse clouds were hiding 
the moon as much as not. He decided to turn on the flood lights he 
had mounted them several months ago. They lit up the entire five 
acres around his cabin. Flipping the switch, he looked outside and 
saw movement at the edge of his property. A deer, white tail 
flashing in the dark, bounded into the woods. He smiled and 
wondered what else he had scared away from the orchard. The 
trees had bore very few fruit, but lots of animals had come by 
waiting for them to ripen. There was no way he was going to be 
able to beat them to the fruit.

Entering his office, he sat at his desk adjusting his holster so that it 
didn't dig into his hip. He turned on his computer and connected to 
the Internet. After checking out a few web sites, he decided to 
download a couple of Appleton stories from the Books Online site. 
He had always enjoyed the Tom Swift stories as a young boy and 
had been shocked to learn that they were now available online. The 
stories were corny by today's standards, but they reminded him of 
a time in his life when a young boy, armed with a tool set, could go 
on wonderful adventures. 

He had downloaded three stories when he suddenly lost his 
connection to the Internet. That wasn't anything to worry about 
that, he was so far from the telephone switching station that his 
line was usually pretty unreliable. He pulled up the first story and 
started reading. Chuckling at the use of the word, 'chum', he 
realized he hadn't read that word in ages. He wondered if anyone 
even used that word anymore. Reading the story, he realized how 
much the language had changed in a hundred years.

He was about a third of the way through the third chapter of the 
story when he heard a noise outside the cabin. Standing, his hand 
moved to the holstered pistol automatically. As he left the office, 
he picked up the pump shotgun by the door. The lights in the house 
were off with the exception of a few night lights. They produced 
enough light that he could move easily through the house yet didn't 
give individuals outside a target to shoot at.

He looked through the front window and saw CJ running towards 
the house screaming. She was naked and he could see long red 
scratches where she had run into branches in her dash through the 
woods. He opened the front door and shouted, "The door is open. 
Get in."

She ran into the house and collapsed upon entering the house. She 
was sobbing and crying so much that it was hard for him to 
understand what she was saying. She finally calmed down enough 
to say, "They got him."

Glen had already figured that out. He handed her the shotgun and 
shook her to get her attention. When she was looking at him, he 
said, "I'm going over there in a minute. I want you to stay here. 
Lock the doors. Shoot anything that moves outside. You'll have to 
shoot through the glass of the window, so stand back from it. I'll 
come here with the Sheriff. You'll see his lights flashing. Until 
then, shoot anything that moves. That includes me. Do you 
understand?"

She shivered and answered, "Yes."

He said, "I'm going to turn off the lights outside. I want you to turn 
them back on in five minutes, okay?"

She answered, "Yes."

"Good. Get some clothes out of my room and put them on. That 
should take you about five minutes. Once you're dressed turn on 
the lights."

CJ looked blankly down at her naked body and then up at him. She 
said, "Okay."

He was now giving her explicit things to do and that gave her 
something to concentrate on. Returning to the front door, he closed 
and locked it. He moved to the back door and flipped all of the 
switches off. The lights outside went out throwing everything into 
darkness. He grabbed the shotgun by the back door and picked up 
some extra shells. Heart racing a hundred miles an hour, he 
stepped onto the back porch while closing and locking the door 
behind him. He crouched down and ran directly to the woods, 
entering them near the white flag he had set there for that purpose.

He found the rope that they had strung through the woods. The 
lights came on behind him, early, but not early enough for him to 
have been spotted getting out here. He took a deep breath as he 
stood next to the rope, happy to have found it. It marked a cleared 
path with no fallen branches or major impediments. Moving in a 
fast walk he held his right hand out and letting it brush against the 
rope. His pace was fast since he didn't have to look where he was 
going.  He was at the midway point when he heard a horrible 
scream cut through the night with chilling effect. 

He picked up his pace, afraid that he was too late. He couldn't run 
too fast because there was always the chance of tripping or falling 
in the dark. After five minutes, he reached the end of the rope. 
Looking around, he found that he was exactly where he expected 
to be - behind and to the side of the house. Two trees in front of 
him hung a white scarf on one of the branches.

He knelt down and examined the situation. The sliding glass doors 
to the sauna room had been smashed. Glen swore as he stared at 
them, the damage had confirmed his fears that would be how they 
would enter the house. Based on the way that CJ was dressed, they 
had actually been in the sauna when the fanatics broke in. 

He crept towards the front of the house, keeping cover by keeping 
close to the woods. Moving slowly and carefully, he inched 
forward since he didn't want to rush in and possibly jeopardize 
Cliff. Despite the scream he had heard in the woods, he still hoped 
they hadn't done anything too serious yet.

When the front yard came into view, his stomach heaved, but he 
fought to keep its contents down. Without regard to his safety, he 
charged the two men that he saw standing there. He fired the 
shotgun, knowing even as he pulled the trigger that they were too 
far away for it to do much good. The men fled and he followed, 
firing at them the entire time. He could hear others running away 
from the scene as well. 

He followed them to the road, hearing them start up a number of 
vehicles. He fired the last round in his shotgun at the fleeing cars. 
He pulled his pistol and emptied it in the direction of the cars. He 
screamed as the last car disappeared behind a bend in the road, 
"I'm going to fucking kill each and every one of you bastards! You 
are dead meat! Do you hear me? I'm going to kill you as fucking 
slow as I can!"

Glen collapsed on the road, losing the contents of his stomach. 
Tears blinded him as he retched. He stayed there for at least ten 
minutes, on his hands and knees, filled with rage at the fanatics and 
anger at his own impotence at preventing this. Beaten, he finally 
picked up his shotgun and pistol. The empty pistol was returned to 
its holster. He reloaded the shotgun after checking the barrel.

He walked back to Cliff's house like a beaten man. When he saw 
Cliff tied to the stake, he bent over again and threw up. The bonfire 
at his feet continued to consume the lifeless flesh. Glen went to the 
front of the house looking for a hose to put out the fire, but there 
was nothing. He kicked in the front door and went to the phone. 
The line was dead. He realized they must have cut the line before 
attacking. That was when he had lost his Internet connection. 

Glen searched the house and found the car keys. Numbly, he 
carried them to Cliff's truck, struggling to make it work. He headed 
towards town to get the Sheriff and then thought better of it. He 
stopped at the first house that he saw and pulled into their 
driveway. Honking the horn several times to get the owners 
attention, he got out and was approaching the house when the 
owner stepped out onto the porch with a shotgun. The two armed 
men looked at each other for a minute. Glen finally broke the 
silence by shouting, "Call the Sheriff. There's been a murder at the 
Metchette place."

The man stared at Glen for a moment and then croaked, "Murder?"

Glen snapped, "Yes, a murder. Get the Sheriff."

The man shouted into the house, "Honey, call the Sheriff. Tell 
them there's been a murder at the …"

Glen finished it for him. He shouted, "Metchette place. Tell him 
this is Glen Wiseman!"

The man on the porch asked, "That you, Glen?"

"Yes."

The man lowered the shotgun with relief. He knew Glen only 
slightly, but Glen had a good reputation. Word had gotten out 
about all of the charity work he had done in the area. He had met 
Glen at the Orphanage as a member of the Elks that had catered the 
Christmas Eve Party there. He remembered the wooden chests that 
Glen had created for each child and the happiness that Glen had 
delivered. He called over, "Damn, I didn't recognize you. All I 
could see was the shotgun in your hand."

Glen looked down and realized for the first time that he was 
carrying the shotgun. He set it down and collapsed on the 
driveway. He couldn't move or talk, his shoulders shook as he 
cried like a baby. The man on the porch came over to him 
awkwardly, not used to dealing with an emotional outburst from 
another man. He shifted nervously from foot to foot trying to 
decide what to do.

Glen realizing that the man was watching him, slowly pulled 
himself together. He looked up and said, "They burned him at the 
stake."

The man came to a decision and called to the house, "Honey, I'm 
taking Glen over to his place to wait for the Sheriff there. I'll be 
home late."

His wife came to the front porch and shouted back, "I've called 
them and they are on their way. Don't go doing anything crazy out 
there, you hear me?"

The man groaned and shouted back, "You know me better than 
that, woman!"

The man helped Glen to the passenger side of the truck. Once Glen 
was inside, he went around and got in the drivers seat. He started 
up the truck and backed out of his drive. It didn't take him long to 
get to the driveway of Cliff's house. Glen said, "Stop here."

The man said, "I'll take you to your house. You need to recover."

Glen shook his head and said, "CJ is over there. I told her to shoot 
anyone and anything until the law arrives. That included me."

The man parked the car along the road. Glen said, "You may want 
to grab a gun from the gun rack. No telling if they'll come back."

The man pointed to his shotgun next to him and said, "Brought my 
own."

Glen nodded and said, "Let's get out of the truck. Too easy of a 
target."

They exited the vehicle and could hear the siren cutting through 
the silent country air. It was almost impossible to tell how far away 
there were. Glen positioned himself behind a tree facing the road 
and waited. His hands were shaking so hard that he could hardly 
hold the gun. 

He had no idea what happened to him, but the next thing he knew 
was the powerful smell of ammonia salts assaulted his nose. 
Looking up, he saw the Sheriff looking down at him. Glen groaned 
and said, "Those fucking monsters killed him."

The Sheriff had already seen what remained of the body. He was 
more concerned about CJ and asked, "Where's CJ?"

Glen answered, "She's at my place. If you go over there, you better 
be in a car with flashing lights. I told her to shoot anyone except 
the law."

Relieved, the Sheriff turned away for a second and said, "Jim, get 
Glen in your car. Go over to his place and get CJ. Keep your 
cherries on. Once you have them both, take them to the hospital. 
Don't bother stopping once you are on your way."

Glen found himself stumbling towards a car door being directed by 
an arm around his back and a hip against his side. He fell into the 
car and sat there numbly. It seemed like he had just gotten in the 
car when he was joined by CJ. He looked out the window as the 
scenery flashed by. He knew, even as the highway signs flashed 
by, that he wouldn't remember the drive in the morning.

He was led from the car by a helpful nurse. In the emergency 
room, he remembered crying some more and then a needle. There 
was nothing until morning when he woke in a hospital bed. CJ was 
in the bed next to his. He looked around in panic as the events of 
the night before returned. The Sheriff was in the room and a state 
trooper was in the hallway outside the door.

Glen, in an empty tone of voice, said, "They got him."

Dale answered, "Yes they did."

"I tried to kill them, but they got away."

"You were lucky. It looks like you actually hit a couple of them. 
We found blood trails from several points to the road. They were 
waiting to ambush you, but didn't expect you to come from the 
woods like you did."

Glen listened to what the Sheriff said and tried to make sense of it. 
He had been shooting wildly in the dark. He asked, "How do you 
know what they were trying to do?"

"We caught one of them before he died. He was only too happy to 
answer my questions."

Glen got out of the bed. His legs felt weak, but he was basically 
okay. He said, "Excuse me a minute."

The Sheriff glanced at the bathroom and chuckled. He said, "I 
predict that if I don't excuse you, then you'll piss on me rather than 
in the bathroom."

Glen chuckled as he walked to the bathroom. He closed the door 
behind himself and splashed some water on his face. He cupped his 
hands and took a mouthful of water out of them. He rinsed his 
mouth and then spat out the water. The taste of hours old vomit in 
his mouth threatened to make him sick again. He stepped up to the 
toilet and released a strong stream of urine. The act of pissing 
brought him back in touch with reality. No matter what human and 
emotional concerns you have, biology is still the king.

He returned to the room feeling much better. He actually noticed 
that he was walking around with his bare ass hanging out the back 
of the hospital gown. He climbed back into the bed and asked, 
"What time is it?"

"It's ten. We let you sleep."

Glen thought about his plans for the day and said, "I have to leave 
here soon to pick up the twins at the airport."

Dale shook his head and replied, "No. We already have that in 
hand. A trooper is going to meet them there with my wife."

"That's going to scare the hell out of them."

Well aware of what would happen at the airport, he said, "My wife 
will be there. She's good at that kind of thing."

CJ stirred in the other bed. She woke up and looked around. 
Looking over at her, Glen could see the fear etched in her face and 
understood its source. Cliff must have put a pretty good fight for 
her to escape. If they were lucky, she had no idea what would have 
happened to her if she had been caught. She looked at Glen and 
tears formed in her eyes. She said, "They got him."

Solemnly, Glen nodded and said, "Yes, CJ. They got him."

"You couldn't save him?"

He sighed and then answered, "I was too late."

CJ cried for a minute while the two men watched her. The Sheriff 
held her hand to comfort her. When she had recovered a little, she 
said, "He fought like a maniac so that I could get away. It was four 
against him, but I think he killed one. I ran and ran as fast as I 
could. I got lost and couldn't find the weapons or the horn. I finally 
saw your lights and headed towards them."

Glen wondered if he had been given a little more time that maybe 
things would have worked out better. He said, "You did what you 
were supposed to do. It was night and you did the best you could. I 
don't know if I or the Sheriff could have done any better."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," replied Glen. He looked over at the Sheriff and 
asked, "So how many of them did we get?"

The Sheriff looked at CJ and then at Glen. He decided they needed 
to know the truth. He said, "Well, it looks like Cliff got two of 
them, but we haven't found their bodies. You killed one and 
wounded at least three others. One of the wounded ones was found 
in the woods and was killed trying to escape after being 
questioned."

Glen understood exactly what the Sheriff meant. He nodded and 
said, "The questioning. What did you find out?"

The Sheriff licked his lips and said, "It was hinted that they would 
come back for you and the twins after the funeral."

Glen was quiet for a long time. Now that he had recovered from 
the shock of the events of the previous night, he was angry. It 
wasn't the kind of anger that led a man to slam doors and kick 
things. This was the kind of slow burning anger that made a man 
the most dangerous. He was going to go hunting and his prey this 
time would be human.

CJ looked at Glen and saw the set of his jaw and the narrowing of 
his eyes. She said, "Include me in your plans. I need it as much as 
you do."

Glen looked at her and nodded. The Sheriff licked his lips and said, 
"Include us in a way that we can protect ourselves in case of an 
investigation."

Glen nodded as he realized that he had two days to get ready for 
them. He could count on Wanda and Sandra to help; they would 
want the chance to even the score. Oliver would help as well. He 
wasn't sure what he could have CJ do, but he would think of 
something. They could get three, maybe four, guns against how 
ever many of them there were. He looked around and said, "I'll 
make plans. Everyone will have something they can do that won't 
get them in trouble. I would assume that a group that has shown 
the kind of disregard for life this group has shown, have 
established a good enough case for self defense?"

The Sheriff answered, "Well, I think it's time for me to get a cup of 
coffee. I know that any plans you might make for self-defense 
against such a heinous group won't represent a premeditated plan 
for a massacre."

Glen smiled as he watched the Sheriff leave the room. At a gesture 
from Dale, the Deputy outside the door moved so that he couldn't 
hear the discussion inside the room. Glen turned to CJ and said, "I 
know that you feel like grieving. I would like to ask you to 
concentrate on protecting yourself for now. There will be plenty of 
time for grieving later."

CJ sighed. The sigh carried with it an emptiness that would not be 
filled for a long time. It hurt Glen to hear it. She said, "Call Oliver. 
He will want to help. The three of us have been dating."

Glen nodded and answered, "I thought that would be the case. I'll 
talk to him and include him in our plans."

He looked over at her and saw that she barely had control of her 
emotions. He got out of the bed and walked over to CJ holding out 
his arms for her. Sitting up, she hugged him. He let her cry for 
several minutes, rocking her gently in his arms. The tension slowly 
leaked from her, but she never relaxed. He let her cry until she was 
cried out. He continued to hug her until she released him. Easing 
her back into to the bed, he ran a hand along her chin and said, 
"Get some more rest. I'll be back in a little while."

She nodded and closed her eyes while he watched her until she fell 
asleep. Knowing she was safe for the moment, he went to the 
hanger and found his clothes. After dressing, he stepped into the 
hall where the deputy moved over to him. The Deputy asked, 
"Glen, planning on going somewhere?"

Glen answered, "I'm going to the nurses station and get checked 
out of here. Then I'm going to get something to eat. After that, I'm 
going to make some calls. I'll be back here to watch over CJ."

The Deputy had a problem - he was supposed to watch over the 
two of them and that wasn't possible if they split up. Knowing that 
Glen could take care of himself, he decided that the Sheriff's niece 
was the one that he would watch over. He said, "The nurses station 
is over there."

Glen went to the nurses station and talked quietly to the nurse on 
duty. Surprisingly, they had not been officially checked into the 
hospital and he was free to leave when ever he desired. Glen 
smiled as he thought about how small towns really did take care of 
their own.

Initially, Glen headed to the diner, but made a detour to Oliver's 
house. Pulling up in the driveway, he received a number of looks 
from the neighbors. It was seldom that houses in the black area of 
town had white visitors. Glen looked around and noted that 
segregation still had a hold of rural America in subtle ways. 
Knocking on the door, he waited patiently for Oliver to come to 
the door. On opening it, he saw Glen and said, "Shit, I heard news 
this morning. Christ man, did they really burn him alive?"

Looking at Oliver, Glen realized that redness in his eyes indicated 
that the man had been crying. Glen bit his lower lip to drive away 
any emotional responses and said, "Yes, they did."

Now that he was coming to grips with his grief, Oliver began to get 
very angry about the situation. He felt helpless to do anything. He 
had started to love Cliff and CJ and now he felt a like a widower. 
He asked, "You are going after them, aren't you?"

"Yes."

Oliver stepped out into the front yard of his house. Putting his 
fingers in his mouth, he gave out a loud whistle. Before he had 
even ended his whistle, men were coming out of the houses and 
headed towards them. Most of them looked at Glen with distrust 
and an undercurrent of anger. Glen watched, impressed with the 
way they looked out for each other. When everyone had arrived, 
Oliver said, "Everyone, this is Glen. He's a friend of mine. A 
mutual friend of ours was murdered last night by a mob."

The men gathered there shifted uneasily, but Oliver had their 
attention. The looks they gave Glen changed slightly in tone. 
Oliver said, "I'm going to hunt them bastards down."

A couple of the men shook their heads and walked away saying, 
"Not our place."

The remainder stayed and nodded their agreement. One of them 
asked, "What do you need us to do?"

Glen looked at each man in the eye before he answered, "They are 
coming to my place the night of the funeral to finish the job. I need 
lookouts and folks that can shoot."

One of the other men asked, "How many men have you already 
got?"

"Myself, his girlfriend, and his two sisters."

"Shit! Three women?"

Glen laughed and answered, "Two of them can hit a quarter at a 
hundred yards, 49 out of 50 shots. I'd like to see how many men 
can do that."

Even Oliver looked skeptical at that. Glen said, "They've been out 
shooting fifty rounds of .22's and five rounds of .30-06 every 
morning and evening for the past four months. They are good."

One of the men asked, "What about the law?"

Glen looked at the ground unwilling to implicate the Sheriff in his 
willingness to look away. He answered, "Some folks may not 
realize that these people tried to kill the Sheriff not too long ago. 
He's a little pissed at them right now. I doubt he's going to work 
too hard on stopping me in teaching them a lesson."

Five of the men agreed to participate. Glen reached out with his 
hand in friendship and thanks. He shook hands with everyone 
there, even those that refused to participate. He said, "Any friend 
of Oliver is a friend of mine. You are all invited to come out with 
him to fish in my trout stream."

The men all looked at each other with the kind of smile that comes 
from having discovered a secret and then at Oliver. His 
embarrassed grin spoke volumes. He said, "Damn, you've just 
given away my secret fishing hole. They've been after me for 
months to tell them where it is."

"Sorry to do that to you Oliver, but I appreciate the fact that they 
are willing to help. Those that chose not to help, at least gave me a 
fair and reasonable chance to put forth my case. They are good 
men and I'm proud to have met them."

Oliver smiled and looked over the men that were gathered there. 
They were looking at Glen with earned respect. The man had come 
and talked to them as equals, stated the facts and accepted their 
decisions. He said, "They are all kin of mine."

"I knew you came from good family. This proves it." Glen nodded 
to everyone and said, "It'll take me a day to figure out a good plan. 
I'll let Oliver know as soon as I've come up with one."

Glen got in his truck and left, heading directly to the diner. He 
entered and half the people in the diner turned to look at him. The 
owner came out and asked, "How's CJ?"

Glen answered, "She's very upset about the loss of her boyfriend. 
They were actually thinking about getting married."

The manager swore and asked, "Is there anything that I can do to 
help?"

Loudly, he answered, "Anyone that wants to help can come to me 
after the funeral service for Cliff. I'll have a better idea what's 
going to happen then."

One of the other patrons shouted, "You need someone that can use 
a gun?"

Glen looked at the man who spoke and nodded. He said, "Yes, 
guns might be very useful if they should come back to my place."

Glen noticed a number of patrons looking around nervously at that. 
He didn't really want to make a public announcement that he was 
setting the fanatics up for a turkey shoot. He added, "Of course, a 
friendly call when not so friendly folks are on the way is just as 
useful."

A number of the patrons that had looked nervous, suddenly 
grinned as they saw a way of helping that wouldn't place them or 
theirs in harms way. Glen had gotten a lot more help than even he 
realized. He hadn't known that during the vigil at the hospital, 
numerous people in town had problems with the fanatics. The 
fanatics had tried to shut down several businesses because they 
catered to the evil in people. They included cosmetics, dress stores 
with colorful clothes, and even fast food as subversive pleasures. 

He sat down and ordered the lunch special. People stopped by his 
table to talk quietly about how they could possibly help. Glen was 
overwhelmed by the support from the community. Although no 
one explicitly mentioned it, every knew that this was war. Glen 
hadn't declared it, but he was going to be standing when it was 
over.

After lunch, he returned to the hospital. CJ was up and moving. 
She had dressed in some clothes that the Sheriff had brought for 
her. She smiled up at Cliff and asked, "So, have you gathered a 
cavalry?"

Glen sat down in the chair and answered, "Yes, I did. We've got a 
number of folks offering to provide arms. There are others wanting 
to be advanced lookouts. Still others will do what ever is necessary 
to help us."

CJ asked, "What can I do?"

Glen was quiet for a moment and then stated, "I'm going to place 
you in the hunting stand at the back of the property. You're going 
to be our lookout. We are not going to do anything until you tell us 
to."

CJ smiled and replied, "That's good. I know how to shoot, but I'm 
not that good. I was sitting here wondering what I could really do. 
I realize I panicked last night and you don't need that when they 
come for you."

They left the hospital shortly after that.  Last night he hadn't been 
able to remember the name of the man that had helped him. This 
morning it came back to him. The guy was George Davis.  He 
decided to stop by the Davis place and thank them for helping him 
out last night.

Pulling into their driveway, he got out of the truck and looked back 
at CJ. She stayed in the truck, she wasn't up to dealing with too 
many people yet. This time, he made sure that he wasn't armed 
when he approached the house. He knocked on the door. The wife 
answered the door and looked at Glen. She said, "Oh, hello Glen. 
Are you doing all right now? You were pretty upset last night."

Glen nodded and said, "I wanted to stop by and thank you and your 
husband for all of your help last night."

She said, "Hey, all I did was call the Sheriff. It must have been a 
bad scene last night."

Glen asked, "Why did you say that?"

She frowned and then said, "George came home afterwards. He sat 
in the living room for about three hours. He was crying. I've never 
seen him do that."

Glen nodded and said, "It was pretty bad. I'm sorry to have 
involved you in it."

She got a misty look in her eye and said, "I knew Cliff from the 
grocery store. He was always helpful. He used to hand out little 
cards to the kids that were in the store and tell them they had to be 
good. If they were good, they would get a tootsie pop at the 
counter. If they were real good, they could fill in the card to have a 
chance win the chance to fill a bag with candy. Those of us who 
had to shop with cranky kids really appreciated that."

Glen hadn't ever heard that before. It was the kind of thing that 
Cliff would do. He probably paid for it out of his paycheck, too. 
He realized that you could know someone very well, live with 
them for months at a time, and there were still lots of things that 
you didn't know. 

When Glen returned to his truck, CJ smiled at him and asked, "We 
are going to your place?"

"Yes, we are. Wanda and Sandra will be there soon. I want to have 
the place ready for them."

At the house, CJ and Glen worked hard to straighten it up. CJ 
worked around the house cleaning things two and three times as a 
way to keep her mind off the events of the previous night. The 
telephone was working now and he called the Sheriff learning that 
the twins were to be home anytime soon. The state trooper and his 
wife knew better than to take them by their house, but to bring 
them to his. He made several other calls, including one to make the 
funeral arrangements. He was careful not to talk loud enough for 
CJ to overhear. Tomorrow, he would go in and pay for the 
arrangements.

The coffee finished brewing before the state trooper pulled up. 
Wanda and Sandra got out of the car and ran to the house. Glen 
went to them and hugged them tightly. They were both red eyed 
from crying. They had cried the entire drive from the airport. Glen 
held them and whispered little terms of endearments to them both. 
They held him tightly as if they were afraid that if they were to let 
go, then they would loose him too.

He slowly got them into the house. Helena followed, a discrete 
distance, behind them. She looked tired and drawn. When she saw 
CJ, she ran to her niece and hugged her tightly. The two women 
cried softly; CJ at her loss and Helena as a caring relative.

Glen got coffee for the twins after getting them situated on the 
couch. He joined them on the couch holding them against him. 
They snuggled up and slowly the tension eased out of them. It took 
a while, but they fell asleep. Glen stayed there for a long time. 

The trooper carried in their luggage and then whispered, "The 
Sheriff will be here in a while to pick up Helena."
