JESSE

Her stomach seemed to drop before she did. She dropped quickly, instictively, as the chair brushed the millimeter of air between. it and the back of her neck. The chill shooting down her spine, heightened her reflexes and filled her with the primitive excitement of survival. She swung her right leg out and behind her, sweeping her assailant to the floor. Before he hit the ground she had both his hands behind his back and when he came to a stop she had his legs cuffed to his hands.



Her stomach fell again as she rolled, keeping her gun fingerpointing at her opponents heart, and shot her .357 Smith-and-Wesson. The man was pointing a .22 automatic at her head. A quick, gentle breeze brushed her sweat-wet cheek where his bullet passed. He fell, quite suddenly and finally. She leaped over to him across the cheep carpet, took his gun and cuffed him. Her breath came quick and fast with anticipation. The living room was getting hot and sticky as the Georgia afternoon reluctantly gave way to a soft humid evening. Her sweat was sharp and strong with adrenalin. It stung her eyes, making the couch's faded flower design, seem to melt

.

Moving quickly into the kitchen, she glimpsed the open window curtains, above the steel sink, flutter and die. She was the utility-white kitchen and at the entry, when his six foot silouette opened the front door. She hugged the door's wall and grabbed his gun hand, twisting the gun out of it. He struck her jaw with his other-hand, spinning sparks before her eyes. She hung onto his gun hand and knuckle pressed him with her as she fell.~ The sparks faded as she twisted his arm behind his back and tied them with her shoe laces .



"Jesus, she‘s quick, " stated Agent Sims in the video room.



"And strong, agressive. She might do. " said Commander Hardluv, almost noncommitally. Sims and Hardluv watched the conclusion of the raid, making notes on the trainees. As the last of the “suspects" were loaded in the van, Sims called over the radio to the raid coordinator.



"Wilson, have Wade come to the video room a moment"



"Do I havae time for a shower first?" interjected Jesse Wade.



"Sure but make it quick" Said Wilson.



"I'm always quick" smirked Jesse - almost knowingly.



Sims twirled his pencil with his tounge nervously.



"Is he impressed or what?" thought Sims.



Mr. Hardluv had the classic poker-face. No one could tell what he might be thinking. Even the cool, dark video room couldn't keep Sims from breaking into a nervous sweat, trying to imitate Hardluv.



"You say she was sent here from the Forest Service? What's she going to do for them, catch firebugs, timber thieves?  Malicious picnickers? What a waste of talent. This school is wasted on them. I hate giving them spaces for Special Agent training. Hell, they won‘ t even issue bullets to go with their guns.~ I guess they use them as clubs or hope to frighten people into arrests," stated Hardluv.



"He' s interested, " thought Sims .



"Well, was I right? She can do it all. And she has a tape recorder memory. She remembers everything, verbatum, like a tape reoorder. "



"So you've told me, Sims. But this is training, a game to her perhaps. What will happen when those are real bullets coming at her and not just actors she has to handle?" mussed Hardluv.



"How do we know how any of them will react?" countered Sims.



"You're right. Let's see-what kind of patriot she is."



That was Hardluv's way of saying he wanted to recruit.



He was quite the agent himself in his day. Now his athletic body was getting a bit worn around the 5'8" edges. The sable hair was a bit thinner and greyer too but his brown eyes still sparkled energetic intllect. Fifteen years ago his ‘average appearance allowed him to blend in anywhere. He was the type of person witnesses would describe as "about 5'8" or 5'11", brown hair and average build."



If asked for any distinguishing marks, their reply would be a thoughtfull "...no..." Descriptions would vary of his facial features from "a straight nose" to a "clift chin", or simply "you know .. . just average."



However, he had a photographic memory and he kept his "average" body well above average in strangth and quickness. He could squeeze information out of a turnip, it was said, and charm the fangs from a serpent.



"I' m very flattered . . ." started Jesse.



"But you won’ t join us. That‘ s what all females say when they‘ re about to say ' no‘ " , huffed Sims.



Jesse felt uneasy as their faces were illuminated only by the dozen tiny television screens, casting a menacing light in their eyes. She summoned her courage and told them.



"You're right. I won't join your organization. I like what I'm doing. I don't have to be a CIA agent to serve my needy country. Besides, I'm not a kid. My life is already established. If I weren't married, it would be very tempting. But I am, so I won't. Thanks anyway."



She started to tremple with adrenalin. Why did she feel as if she were in battle? She sensed something a’brewing as if this weren't the end of the matter.



Hardluv was silent, laid back in the cushioned chair, looking at his touching fingertips. Sims sat forward, contemplating his knees and twitching his right foot uncomfortably.



"Well, I guess you'll be having kids in a few years and all this training will be wasted. Women are only good for a few years in this work. They all get married and have kids. You're no different," shot Hardluv.



"I didn't get my Criminology doctorate to sit at home and diaper runny-nosed kids. I'm in this business to stay. I can't have children anyway, so don‘t worry about wasting anything on me,” she said a.bit regretfully.



"O.K Go ahead. Go back to your trees. You'd probably choke on a real assignment anyway. This training is just a game to you. You couldn't handle the pressure of having real bullets fired at you. Your country's security would mean nothing to you under live fire. Go back to your safe, boring life. Leave the important work to the people who can handle it,‘ stabbed Hardluv.



"Where did you find this guy, Sims‘? No. you can't play your mind games with me. I know what you're trying to do. You know I can't resist a challenge. I don't have to prove anything to you, though I could if I wanted to. I can do anything I put my mind to... Anything... I just don't want to join the CIA .. . Can I go now?"



"...Sure. See you at dinner," said Sims rather cooly. He followed Jesse out the door and caught her arm.



"Don't take Hardluv too seriously. He wouldn't give you such a hard time if he didn't think you were worth it."



"Thanks. Maybe someday. It's just that there are other things more importyant to me now. See ya."



"I am having a good time" mused Jesse. I'm finally able to do the things I've heard agents talk about. God, it feels so real durring the exercises. I can't wait for the real thing."



Jesse glanced at the clock above the dorm desk. She just had time to read her mail and finally take that "quick" shower before dinner.



There was a letter from Cliff and a care package from Mom.



Sweetheart,



Spring breathes fresh her promises,

As light blows in to stay the darkness,

Stellar's Jays, their squaks grating,

Push away the Winter‘ s sleep,

Impatient for their Summer's dellight.

The days move slowly, in a dream,



Wanting to wake to your warm light,

My lone winter soul lives for life,

In you, my life's delight.



I know; it's baaaaad! as usual, but it's the best I could do while watching "Leave it to Beaver" reruns.

I can't wait for you to come home. We'll make quite the team again. Things are hopping! You'll have plenty to do when you come back to work. We'll put  those new skills through the paces! I know you hate it when I won't give you all the details but you'll just be that much more anxious to come home, Besides, I don't want to chance anyone intercepting this and spoiling some of our fun.

My dearest, loving, wife. I can't tell you what an empty place there has been for me these past eight weeks. No bacon cooking to wake to, no warm flesh to steal bedcovers from me, no one to hear of my fantastic run in the Master‘ s race (first, a full 2 seconds ahead of second! )

Your impatient, loving, lousy poet but fantastic racer husband,



"He is a lousy poet but I'm a sucker for mush, however it comes," thought Jesse. "What was hopping? If it was personnel, they would get someone from another Forest to investigate. I wonder if it's a plantation raid‘? Cliff usually refers to raids as ‘fun’ ...He's right. Now I am real anxious to get home.





She could feel April coming as their Subaru sedan leisurly sauntered up meandering, serpentine roasds.  It was all it could do to “saunter” but it got them where they wanted to go.  the foothills were turning a bright green-yellow as the new grass make the first appearance of green this spring.  The oaks usually slept in a little longer, but already the buds were bumping out.  Smoke from debris burning wafted in and out of the car as people prepard for yet another fire season.  She could sense Cliff’s excitement and, although they bot got animated and excited this time of year, Cliff was even more so.  as they climbed past the digger pines and came into the beginning of the cedar/oak transition int eth mountains, Jesse could stand it no more.







Li

one'anoth_er“into two stories.





It_was small, two upstairs bedrooms, with a bath kitchen and living room downstairs. Jesse paused at the front porch, savoring the fresh, crisp air, and the feeling of comfort as the sun shone a final gold on the snow patched meadow.



by the waist as they entered. She turned to him feeling an urgent need to have him close.



"Let me take a long hot shower first. I want to just stand there and let warm water run over me until it starts to turn cold," sighed Jesse.



"Alright, but I'll probably be asleep by the time you get done."



"We'll see how long you can sleep when I get under those covers," threatened Jesse.



a playful slap on the rear which she returned with a fast sla of her foot on his butt. She tucked her rear in and scampered quickly out of Igis reach, sticking her tounge out as she disappeared into the shower.

What is going

She had to bend her knees to get her 5'11" high head under the nozzle. The water ran a. warm. soothing sheet over her lean, tired musscles and flattened the long summer-wheat hair against her winter-white body.



She heard the shower door slide open. The soap over her eyes kept her from opening them, but she had no need. Cliff's firm, long hands caressed her stomach. He took the soap and washed her slowly, savoring her lean, strong body. She rinsed the soap from her eyes, turned to face him pressing her hips Mm-m+ mhe-ir mouths met with firm, probing passion. He held her closer



love handles and ruffled his thick, light mane. They paused, filling their eyes with each other. Jesse stroked his long arms then sllipped beside him urgently seeking his closeness and he, hers. They loved each other tenderly with fervent lunging and caressing. They knew each other well, moving harmoniously instinctively. n His musk scent filled her with pleasure and familiar longings as she savored their loving as long as she could. The waves of passion faded slowly, pleasureable, as they slipped into deep, satisfied

sleep.

“this unexpefited‘ cloud . rustling the dry underbranches. Their muscles stiffened with the cold as time

crawled by. ,Cra.0k! feet from their faces .

Jesse and Cliff flinched closer to the ground as a ‘swig broke 5 The man's New Balance leather waffle stompers almost

met their noses as he stepped closer to the bush.

"Freeze! Federal Officers!" wisper-shouted Cliff. He had jumped the gun and hoped he hadn't spoiled the raid. He wanted to make this arrest as quickly and quietly as possible.

The little man dropped his spade and seedling bag, ddropped his precious plants.

Cliff coult tell the little man was debating whether to flee or surrender . Jesse made the decision easy as she silently came upon their prey from behind and cuffed him before he could make a decisiion.

"I'll take him in and be right back," said Jesse. Cliff nodded and walked to another position, to await the raid signal. The fog drifted away to reveal the warm midmorning sun. Jesse escorted the little man to a waiting van.

"Starting a bit early, aren't you?" asked the ruddy, boy-cheeks deputy.

obviously upset he had



W 7 He was aready on his back. sho she put her right hand under his neck lifted it, and

laced her left hand on his forehead. She froze, wanting to start the reathing and compressions but knowing they would be useless. Her left palm turned wet and sticky as a neat roun hole, the size of a dime, oozed in the middle of Cliff's forehead. He had been shot clean, and feel a

thing.

' Jesse started CPR anyway, not believing what had happened . She had

cuffed and carried off to’ stop. She rode in the Forest Service sedan behind the coroner's van, quiet and stunned. The cuffs had been removed and she vaguely heard her boss explaining what she needed to do, what he could do to help, and how brave she must be. She nodded, not wanting him to say anymore,. wishing she could forget what he was telling her, and too drailned to make him stop.

The coronerI s room was an old examination room on ‘the first floor of the Valley Medical Center . The walls were an easy-wash white enamel as we r-e the drrawers and cabinets . Crome touched everything with handles, rollers, tubes , and holders . The pad Cliff laid on was blck vinyl on a chrome guerny. The

Finding none, she radieed for help and started CPR.

coroner spoke into his right breast shirt pocket, that held a small portable recorder.

"Caucasian, Male, approximately 50 years of age . Name is Clifford Wade, Shaver Lake, California. Cause of death . . . a bullet wound to the head . entered through the left frontal lobe and moved superior to inferior at a 50 degree angle and exited through the right inferior occipital lobe. The wound appears to have been made by a 50 caliber bullet or similar."

Jesse sat with the hospital's visiting chaplan, not saying a word. very young. Jesse thought he belonged in high school. But then one always thinks that of when they are no longer the chaplin's age. He was sitting stiffly, not knowing whether to talk, put his arm around her, keep silent, or what. He was just a big corn field boy, with his wheat field hair, pale yet

ruddgé face and p11% nose. He looked as if he would rather be_working {she farm righ now. His 0 asped hands were large and meaty, maklng look l1ke

anything but a preacher .

Jesse sensed his discomfort, put a comforting hand on his shoulder and

_ade, of Bullet

He was

G



"It's 01:. There's nothing anyone can do for me now. 'm not the religous type anyway.. . If it would make you feel better; you can say a few words over him."

His eyes warmed, the hands unfolded and his muscles eased their vigil under her touch.

"You sure?" He asked in a farmer drawl. . "There's nothing I can do?" he asked almost hopefully.

"I'm sure. Go on. "

1 1 . . . . .

relief.

"What happened? That can't be Cliff in the next room. It's someone else.

Cliff is probabl home, ‘wondering where I am," thought Jesse.

She started for tfhe next room but was intercepted by Fred Hendricks, her boss.

"Where you going?" asked Hendricks as his chubby arm caught her.

"Ah .. . I have to make a phone call." "There's a phone in this room you know." "So ther is so there is ..."

"You're being very brave, Jesse. lWe're very proud of you. Have you called your family yet?"

"No. That's what I was going to do." "By the way, here are Cliff‘ s effects, things that were in his pockets."

"Thanks." The reality of it all was just beginning to penetrate her fogged, slow-motion.

There were a thousand things she had to do. She just couldn't quite bring herself to do them. kEverything seemed suddenly too much. Hendrick’ s ample frame had to guide her, physically, through the motions. He brought her to thje phone, made her call her parents and Cliff's, even told her what to say. She suddenly found herself having to be guided by her blading, perpetualy

hot-faced boss. He was unusually helpful. Could this be the same man who constantly questioned her faacts, rediouled her reports, and generally made a royal pain of himself?

This was a side of him she never saw and wasn't sure she wanted to. She kept expecting him to ask her where she was when Cliff got shot, why she wasn't at her post, that he knew it was a mistake to let them work together. She could sense it all pressing inside him. His face looked hotter than usual and he was very abruptly, but efficiently taking her through the motions.

She couldn't stand it anymore. She had to see Cliff. He was the only person she could confinde in. She desperately needed someone. She needed Cleff. She had no other close friends. Her parents loved her but didn't really understand.

She looked in the bag Hendricks had given her. Funny. She never knew he carried a clover leaf with him. She wondered if it was the same one she gave him durring their first year together. They had planted a small clover patch in front of their cabin, even before it was finished being built. Cliff said clover patches were lucky because, as a child, his mother told him leprecans





"Here's one. See here's’an<_)ther."

Jesse kept rushing to his side.

"Where? I don't see any."

They kept up the game until Jesse picked a three leaf clover and gave it to Cliff.

"We don't need leprechans. We'll make our own luck."

"Right. It did us a lot of good " thought Jesse.

Hendricks finally left. Jesse took the moment to rush over to the coroner’ s room.

"Yes who do we have here?" asked the coroner. It shocked Jesse. For some reason, she didn't expect to find anyone else there. She couldn't move, say or think anything for a moment.

"This your first time? You'll get used to it. New homicide detectives get the shakes like everyone. It's nothing to be ashamed of," said the coroner in a rather bored tone.

"I wanted to see the body." Jesse had difficulty speaking. She was afraid she might be going insane. '

"Well come over here and take a look, them." he spoke irritably.

"Oh, Cliff " she thought. "It really is you. How can it happen so quickly. Why‘? Why you?"

"Listen. I thought you wanted to know how the bullet entered . .." "Superiorly, through the left frontal lobe, and moved superior to inferior at a 50 degree angle, exited right inferior occipital lobe." Jesse recited, word for word, the last words were difficult as she felt her throat constrict painfuly.

"The bullet was probably a .50 caliber but you won't know that for sure until you find the bullet."

All she could do was nod. She kept wishing he would leave. Why wouldn't he get the hell out? She was getting very irritated. Jesse stayed as long as she dared, curious that she didn't feel like crying. In fact, she was devoid of feeling, except her irritation at the coroner.

Cliff didn't seem real. That body on the table was just an apperition, a movie dummy“ There was no emotion in his greyish face. She felt weak. It was almost too much for her to hold her own body up. She managed to stumble out of the room in time to slump by the wall.

The next few days spun her into a foggy, irradio, mist. The funeral came and went almost as quickly as Cliff. Everyone was so damn eager to put him, in the ground. Didn't they care? Didn't they know what a perfect human being he was‘? Why did they get rid of him so fast‘?

Jesse was so "brave", an "inspiration". She took it "so well". She was so "strong," .

"Damn them. thought Jesse. Nobody let me cry when I wanted to. They w0uldn' t let me say goodbye . Whenever I wanted to talk about him everyone said ' I known ' and left uncomfortably, like they didn' t know what to do with me

when I showed any emotion. My parents just told me to be brave. Cliff's parents wouldn't even talk to me. I'm going to go nuts if I don't get away for a while.

Even Doug had the gull to show up, as if he couldn't wait for Cliff to be gone. She had a brief passionate fling in her second year of marriage. Doug, the newpaper editor took advantage of her curiosity. She hadn't "known" a man except Cliff.  She had been at the point in her life where she was curious if other men were different. The passion was turning into tame familiarity with she and Cliff. Jesse found herself wondering about the men she saw. Did they all make love the same or were they really different?

She was drawn to Doug‘s slim wiry body when she went to his office His reporters misquoted, miswrote, and totally missed the point in every story they wrote about cases on her district. She was constantly in Doug Obermyer's office for corrections. She found she was going there more often on petty



polnts. he plCK€(1 up on ner <1es_1res arm was more than nappy to oolge ner. ne wasn't much different than Cliff. He was a bit clumsy but he went through the

{mere i I‘ b t a te a.cE>u le of" a s"n" fai she f t uilt nd finally gave up. Every once in a while, though, he would ask Jesse if she'd gotten rid of Cliff yet.

Then, there he was at the funeral, not looking so unhappy. It was then Jesse lost her composure. As Doug went over to offer his condolences, Jesse slugged him. Straight punch, from lthe hip, to the bridge of his nose, sing her whole body at the instant of impact to focus all her energy to her target. He went down as if he had been shot. n He was out for 5 minutes.

Cliff never knew. He had complete, innocent faith in her. She knew he wouldn't have been able to understand and it would have hurt him a lot. She kept her guilt to herself, knowing it was a secret that would die with her.



"Want some time off?" asked Hendricks, after her insane assault.

"Yeh. Thanks. I've got some things left to do," answered Jesse. The world was becoming a little more real to her now.

"A month? You've got quite a abit of annuyal leave. If that isn't enough I can authorize sick leave too."

"Thanks Hendricks. I don't know. Can I let you Know?"

"Susre. Justy don't take too long. We want you back as soon as you can do it."

"That's just like him," thought Jesse. "He's real generous at first and then immediately gets stingy as soon as the work load dawns on him." Well she would use the time off to be sure Cliff's killer was convicted. It was the only wayt she could partially make up her lapse in not being with him when he needed her.

She finally went home where an unbearable longing tugged at her, Everything reminded her of Cliff, that perfect, valiant, not-too-bad-of-a-poet, and great ski racer, husband. The usual, warm comfortable log walls were dark and opressive, bringing back her longing for Cliffr It wasn't a home anymore‘. The walls were just logs piled on top of one another.. The windows were jsut glass covered with rediculous green plaid curtains. kThe couch,’ she laboriously made with Cliff's advice, was just chainsaw-cut pine and huge pillows.

Nothing seemed to belong to her“ It was all nothing without Cliff. The Bag Hendricks gave her was carelessly tossed on the kitchen table. It was as if Cliff would come home, discover the bag, and tease Jesse for thinkng he was gone. She walked over and timidly opened the plain paper bag. The clover leaf was still in its place in Cliff's wallet, against her picture. There were the usual bank cards, ready-teller card, driver's license, social security card, and pictures of his family. There were four beat up, crinkled dollar bills. They looked like they had‘ been there since he bought the wallet. She looked at his picture on his license. He didn't look bad in the mug-shot. His dark hair was a bit mussed, but his square face and straight nose were jsut as

boyishly appealing as always. She couldn't remember what he looked like on the coroner's table. It was jsut as well. She prefered to remember him as he was on his driver's license. kTheI'e was his comb with the bent teeth, fingernail clippers, car and house keeys . . . , and his wedding band. It was nothing special, just a plain gold band about 1/4 inch wide. She tried it on the ring finger of her left hand. It was jsut a bit too big. She rummaged through her sewing found some thin, black satin ribbon. She wound it round the ring and slipped it back next to her wedding ring It fit.Jesse fancied she could speak to his spirit with the ring on. "Silly. I must be going nuts," she thought out loud. Then she cried .. . the rest of the day and periodically through the night. After five days of wet pillows and red, swollen eyes, Jesse was able to face the world again.

She started by going back to where Cliff was shot. She ran everything back

I through again. hag been facing away from her when she saw his“ headwjerk



tree was hazy in her memory. She walked over to where Cliff had stood. She couldn't remember which tree the person had leaped out of. It had to be in

front of where Cliff was standing sinsce he was shot from She walked to some live oaks in from of her. Somethlng wasn't flttlng. She

couldn't figure out what was wrong. An image of the sniper kekpt leaping out of a tree behind Clliff. No that couldn't be right. She searched for anything that would place the sniper in front of Cliff.

There it was! A button, a brass one with a jackle leaping, and laughing. It was the kind found on designer jeans. Jesse couldn't remember which

designer jean it was. She searched some more. There were deep boot marks at the base of the tree, too- They left a distinct punched out X pattern as if they were brand new. She left the evidence as it lay, took piutres, holding the flash close to the ground near the boot marks to when it went off, the marks would cast shadows and show up more distinctly in the photograph. She then sketched the scene showing the relation of the evidence to the trees and where Cliff laid.‘ kShe got a bag of plaster of paris fron the subaru, varethane, alluminum foil and a jug of water.

The day was turning hot and dry. The sun was shooting sharply through the oak branches with their budding leaves. Shadows were very distinct.‘ The ground was dry. It would absorb some of the plaster of paris if she didn't spray it with a selant first. All she had varethane but it would do. She sprayed the boot prints with several layers of sealant, waiting for each layer to dryt before applying the next. The sun was pressing down on the prints and making her Very uncomfortable. Sweat was stinging her eyes, as the prints emerged from the shadows. The oaks behind her were throwing shade so Jesse walked over to them to wait for her last sealant layer to dry. kShe picked an old knarled oak with a wide, inviting orevace between its roots. She stopped, puzzled. In the orevaoe were two deep tennis shoe marks, not as deep as the ones she had photographed, but definately deep. Someone had obviously jumped from that tree, behind Cliff. She looked up the tree and saw where bark had been scraped recently. Jesse made plaster casts of both sets of prints, carefully labled them, put all her e_v_id‘ence in a metal fishing tackle box and lacked it. The image of someone leaping out tree behind Cliff kept 1 creeping into her thoughts. 1 w 1

Much as she wanted the man they cought convicted, she knew something was amiss. She had to talk to him. see his shoes, pants. look into his face.

She stiffened suddnely as a thought struck her. Jesus! Tampering with evidence. That‘ s what she had been "My God . I could go to jail, " thought Jesse.

The logical thing for her to do was turn it over to the Sheriff’ s department and let things go. No . she had to be sure this man was convicted. There were some loose ends she had to splice together. Then she would take an air-tight case to the District Attorney.

At home, she put the evidence in the floor ssafe, after writing the date and time and her initials on the chain of evidence lables she had.

Clink! , something moved in the kitchen.

Jesse almost screamed but her throat She leaped to the kitchen and put her

Clink! again and then water ran. constricted and her stomach dropped. knuckle in . . . her mother‘ s head!

"Ooops. Sorry Mom. I didn' t expect anyone. " "Jesse! I wish you would calm down just a bit. Ever since you took karate you've jumped people. It gets on the nerves you know."

"Sorry. Thanks for doing the dishes." -

"Of course, Dear I thought you might want some help with things. Jesse wasn't sure why, but she was getting very irritated with her mother. Jesse had the feeling her mother had something planned that Jesse wouldn't like.

"You know you have to dispose of Cliff's things. The sooner the better. Believe me. I know. Her mom kept talking, afraid of what Jesse would say.

"I've been through several deaths in my family. It's the best way."






"Please; Mom. I can do that myselfI"~

"You do have a tendency to put things off Dear. This can't be put off. It will pe easier if I d i ." ,, I

J1eTgse'g rfilogndfigggthjeggofiaggg gfigwivalked into Cliff and Jessi's bedroom. It i had been sanctuary when Cliff was around. Mom knew she didn't dare invade the bedroom like she always did the rest of the house. How that Cliff was gone, that was no longer forbidden to her.

Jesse stifled her anger when she saw boxes lined up on one wall. All of Cliff‘ s clothes, trophies, ski boots, glasses and the adolescent items we all won't let go of were there.

Without speaking, Jesse tore through the boxes throwing out items and messing up the clothes her mother so neatly folded.

"Jesse! There's no call for this tantrum. Calm yourself!"

"O.K. Now you can do what you want with the boxes. Don't touch anything

else! Jesus, Mom. Don't you care how I feel at all? Now, if you'll excuse me, I want to pout in

-private a II

Mom left with hurt and suprize in her face. Jesse heard her mother's soft rustlings, her slow deliberate footsteps and the front door being opened than slowly but decisively shut. A car door opened and closed and the purr of it'smotor faded quickly.

Jesse grabbed Cliff's ski boots and sat, hugging them, on the bed. k The tears wouldn't come, much as she wanted them to.‘ kShe stayed that way until she slumped in exhaustion and slept until morning.

Her pouting hadn't been wasted. She had a plan. A simple one. She chose

her clothes carefully. klTough-Earth-Mother was what she was after. 1: The sniper‘ s woman would be a Tough-Earth-Mother type. NO up’ and her heir had

to iay in a one-brushing-a-dag} untouched way‘. -Perfect, All she had to do was run a brush through 1t and not take a shower thls mornlng. She only hoped he

had a woman. Jesse looked in the mirror. Her blonde hair was just a tad mousy from no washing and spending the last few days inside. Her drab green eyes were a bit glassy from trying to cry. She looked younger, unsophisticated, with no makeup at all. Her straight viking-helmlet nose made her face look a little longer than it really was. Yep, Earth-I\/Iamma all right.

He's probably still at the county tank," thought Jesse. "Knowing how things work around here."

She put on her baggy, faded levis and her garden-granny-dirt--flower patterned blouse. Her mother had given her the blouse when Jesse moved to the mountains, mom thought it went with the new lifestyle. Jess had only worn it to work in the garden or on the house. It looked well broken in.

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