19: The Amanda Dilemma

<body topmargin=0 leftmargin=0 marginheight=0 marginwidth=0> <table cellpadding=0 cellspacing=0 border=0><tr> <td valign="top" colspan=2 height=90 BGCOLOR="#CC9900" TEXT="#080000" bgproperties="fixed" background="047005a0dwnjzk.gif"> <div> <A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Cassies Writing"><U><B>home</B></U></A><B>     | </B><B> </B><B> </B><B>  </B><FONT SIZE="5" COLOR="#FFCC66" FACE="Arial" ><B>Cassie's Writing</B></FONT></div> <div> <A HREF="id109.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="1: Stolen Memories"><U><B>1:  Stolen Memories</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id110.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="2: A Complex Puzzle"><U><B>2:  A Complex Puzzle</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id111.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="3: Peeling the Onion"><U><B>3:  Peeling the Onion</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id112.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="4: Secrets Revealed"><U><B>4:  Secrets Revealed</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id113.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="5: Going Home Again"><U><B>5:  Going Home Again</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id114.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="6: ThingintheBox"><U><B>6:  Thing-in-the-Box</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id116.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="7: Challenging the Leviathan"><U><B>7:  Challenging the Leviathan</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id117.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="8: Circling the Wagons"><U><B>8:  Circling the Wagons</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id118.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="9: Jebs Curse"><U><B>9:  Jeb's Curse</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id119.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="10: Spell of Jealousy"><U><B>10:  Spell of Jealousy</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id120.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="11: Carrying the Weight"><U><B>11:  Carrying the Weight</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id121.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="12: A Fiendish New Year"><U><B>12:  A Fiendish New Year</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id122.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="13: Barnabas Crisis"><U><B>13:  Barnabas' Crisis</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id123.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="14: Barnabas in Parallel Time"><U><B>14:  Barnabas in Parallel Time</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id124.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="15: Clues to Disaster"><U><B>15:  Clues to Disaster</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id125.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="16: Demons Possession"><U><B>16:  Demon's Possession</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id126.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="17: Breach of Trust"><U><B>17:  Breach of Trust</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id127.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="18: Labyrinth of Emotions"><U><B>18:  Labyrinth of Emotions</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><B>19:  The Amanda Dilemma</B><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id129.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="20: Ziganas Cure"><U><B>20:  Zigana's Cure</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id130.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="21: The Approaching Storm"><U><B>21:  The Approaching Storm</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id131.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="22: Enigma at Collinwood"><U><B>22:  Enigma at Collinwood</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id132.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="23: Reunion in Hell"><U><B>23:  Reunion in Hell</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id133.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="24: Scattered Through Time"><U><B>24:  Scattered Through Time</B></U></A></div> <div> </div> </td> </tr><tr> <td valign="top" width=210 BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#080000"> <div> <B>19:  The Amanda Dilemma</B></div> <div> <A HREF="id107.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Alternate Destiny"><U><B>Alternate Destiny</B></U></A></div> </td> <td valign="top" height=390 BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#080000"> <div> Quentin woke up with the dawn, uncharacteristically early for him.  He was wide-awake, too, and that also was unusual.  He gently moved Amanda's arm from around his waist.  After they'd fallen asleep, she'd snuggled closer to him.  She sighed gently but didn't wake up.  He looked at her smooth features, beautiful in repose as well as awake.  There was neither a line nor a wrinkle anywhere on her face.  There was nothing to show the years of drug use.  Their portraits had served different purposes, she'd said, and that was true-what was absorbing the scars on her soul?</div> <div> <I>I have to find out what is going on with her.  I have to find out what I need to do to help Chris.</I> Quentin dressed hurriedly and quietly let himself out.  He went to his motorcycle and, popping up the kickstand and wheeling it down the drive.  He could go to a 7-11 for coffee and something to eat.  He needed to have privacy for what he was going to do.  He had to talk to Jenny; she hadn't come to him in dreams for weeks.  <I>I know how to call her to me-I've had that much practice again</I>, he thought ruefully.  He remembered all the spells and incantations he'd helped cast with Angelique.  She'd taught him more in a few weeks than he'd ever learned with Evan Hanley or through all the years of his travelling on his own.</div> <div> Once he had eaten a little and was satisfied he had everything he needed, Quentin went to Raymondskill Falls.  This time, he followed the path down to the foot of the falls, where he'd see the couple walking before.  The water pooled calmly at the base of the falls, flowing sluggishly.  </div> <div> He found a fallen log to sit on.  Looking around, he was sure he was quite alone.  No one would be here at this hour.   He brought a candle and some matches, digging into the earth a little to set the candle so it wouldn't fall over when he lit it.  Holding onto the pentagram necklace, he began calling to Jenny, hoping she would hear him and respond.  He didn't have anything else that belonged to her.  This necklace had belonged to their son, and she'd loved him.  He looked into the flame, watching it flicker, concentrating, allowing himself to fall into a trance-like state.  "Jenny, Jenny, please hear me.  Please come to me, Jenny."</div> <div> After what seemed to be a long time, he thought he heard a rustle in the woods and looked up.  <I>Jenny, you are so beautiful, he thought. He could see her thick, lustrous hair, flowing loosely down her back.  It was an auburn the color of red wine--so different from the tangled snarl she neglected at the end.  Her eyes were clear and wide; full of awareness.  "Jenny-you're here?"</I></div> <div> <I>"I don't know this place," Jenny answered softly.  "It's a beautiful, quiet place, Quentin.  It's not like you to be in a place like this…you always liked to be in noisy places, with music, always lots of music."</I></div> <div> <I>"You haven't come to me in my dreams anymore."</I></div> <div> <I>"I thought you'd forgotten me."  There was a hint of reproach in her voice.</I></div> <div> <I>"I didn't forget.  I've been trying, Jenny, I just don't know what to do.  Barnabas and Julia won't help me."</I></div> <div> <I>Jenny sat beside him on the log. She looked at him with a mixture of concern and pity.  "They will.  You'll see."</I></div> <div> <I>"Are they going to be able to help Chris from Eastern Europe?" he asked bitterly.  "Jenny, I'm the one who has to help Chris but I don't know what to do.  All the places I've been and all the things I've read-"</I></div> <div> <I>"It's useless, my darling," Jenny interrupted him.  She looked at him intently.  "Listen to me.  The only way you can help our great-grandchildren is to find a member of the Romano family and have her lift the curse."</I></div> <div> <I>"Her?"</I></div> <div> <I>Jenny's eyes looked a little distant.  She turned toward him again, her face serious and intent.  "Listen to me, my darling, you've got to go to Hunter Mountain."</I></div> <div> <I>He was surprised and dismayed.  "Hunter?"</I></div> <div> <I>"There is a member of the Romano family there-she can cure Chris and Amy.  You have to go and find her."</I></div> <div> <I>"Who is it?"</I></div> <div> <I>     "I don't know. I didn't know her--you did.  She's someone who helped you once before."</I></div> <div> <I>"Can you see her?  Describe her?"</I></div> <div> <I>"I can see that she is old now.  She used to be young and beautiful.  Her name is not what it was because she is hiding from someone or something.  She is the one who can cure Chris, though--you HAVE to find her, Quentin!  And then I will help you.  I swear it."</I></div> <div> <I>Hunter isn't that big.  There must be a way of finding this woman, he thought.  Katie can help me.  She knows everyone in the area, I'll bet.  "I won't leave Hunter until I find her," Quentin promised.</I></div> <div>      <I>Jenny had a faraway look on her face again.  "They'll be able to have babies, then, like they should."</I></div> <div> <I>"Chris and Sabrina?"</I></div> <div> <I>"Our great grand-son.  Yes, Quentin.  And Amy, too.  You find this person, and she can cure them both.  There won't be a curse anymore."</I></div> <div> <I>     "I'll find her, Jenny," Quentin swore.  </I></div> <div> <I>     "I never wanted this to happen to you," Jenny said softly.  She'd said this many times before.  "If only…I wish I'd never been in that room."  She was silent a moment and then went on, "I can see someone who is a danger to us, Quentin-you must stay away from her."</I></div> <div> <I>     He felt dread.  "Amanda?"</I></div> <div> <I>     "Yes, Amanda."</I></div> <div> <I>     "Why, Jenny?  Amy and Angelique told me the same thing.  I want to stay away from her, but-"</I></div> <div> <I>     "You are already ensnared.  You can't just send her away, my darling," Jenny told him sadly.  "You'll never be free until you do.  And Chris and Amy will be cured but they won't be safe.  Not anyone in the family-not Beth."</I></div> <div> <I>     "But why?  I don't understand!"</I></div> <div> <I>     "You have to find out the truth about the pact, my darling."</I></div> <div> <I>     "With Mr. Best?"</I></div> <div> <I>     "I don't know his name.  You must call him and ask him yourself."</I></div> <div> <I>     "And will he help me send Amanda away?"</I></div> <div> <I>     "I don't know that.  I don't know him.  He is not in my realm."  Jenny frowned.  "You must act soon, darling-but you must be careful with the woman.  You mustn't send her away."</I></div> <div> <I>     Quentin shook his head, feeling helpless and frustrated.  "If I have to stay away from her and if I can't send her away, what am I to do?"</I></div> <div> <I>     Jenny smiled.  "Oh, darling.  Use your charm.  Flatter her.  Make love to her.  Just don't give yourself to her-you can do that.  You've done that with other women.  Don't let her know that you suspect her until you know how to send her away."</I></div> <div> <I>     Quentin groaned.  He felt unexpected warmth on his face.  She'd put her hand on his cheek.  Her energy was passionately hot, not cold.  "You are still the most beautiful man I've ever seen.  So pretty...I always loved to touch you..."  </I></div> <div> <I>     He remembered the first time he saw her on stage.  She looked as beautiful then as she did now, and he and his brother Carl had been enthralled and captivated by her.  He remembered how much he'd loved her in the beginning, how fiery she'd been, how easily she'd roused him.  If only they'd never returned to Collinwood, maybe…"Jenny, I'm sorry," he mumbled.  He might have known his son and his daughter if they'd never gone to Collinwood.</I></div> <div> <I>     "Let me kiss you just once, my darling," Jenny begged.   He felt her lips brush his, and he closed his eyes.  His body began to tingle.  His erect penis strained against his jeans.  "It wouldn't have worked, even if we hadn't gone to Collinwood.  There was always the Others," Jenny told him sadly.  He felt himself become limp.  "Beth is the one, darling."</I></div> <div> <I>     "So she IS alive?" he asked once again, hopefully.</I></div> <div> <I>     "You will see her again, my darling," Jenny promised him.  She looked very serious again.  "You must find a way to take care of that woman.  And you must find the one in Hunter."  Again he felt her lips on his and he closed his eyes, feeling the warmth again.  Abruptly, the feeling was gone.  When he opened his eyes, she was gone.</I></div> <div>      Quentin sat for a long time, thinking. Who could the woman be?  If she was old, then she had to be someone he'd known from--when?  How young was young and how old was old?   He shook his head.  He'd call Katie, and he would find this woman.  Amanda had to be dealt with first, he thought, remembering what Jenny had said.  How could anyone so self-centered and childish be a danger?  Still, Amanda had secrets that she was keeping-and there was that bargain with Mr. Best.</div> <div>      Concentrating again, Quentin tried several times to call Mr. Best.  Finally he gave up, realizing that he'd become very cold.  He was so cold, in fact, his fingers had become numb.  He couldn't feel the candle when he pulled it from the ground to blow it out.  He slapped his arms and moved around to get the blood circulating, shivering.  He hadn't been able to call Mr. Best-he needed something that belonged to Amanda.  He'd have to go back to the cabin.</div> <div>      <I>I don't want to go back</I>, he realized.  <I>I wish I could just pack her up and send her on the next train back to the city.</I>  Jennie had warned him not to do that.  This was all a trap-even Amanda had told him that.  It was all planned-he was supposed to leave that place between heaven and hell with her, no matter what.  <I>But why?  What does Mr. Best want with us?</I>  He would have to go back and find out.</div> <bR> <div>      Amanda's things were all over the cabin.  It was just a matter of choosing something that belonged to her.  Quentin remembered how he'd gotten Mr. Best to appear to him before and began his incantation, willing the dapper gentleman to appear.  Within a few minutes, Quentin felt very warm.  In one corner of the room, the air seemed to shimmer with what he now recognized as some sort of energy field.</div> <div>      "Just what do you think you're doing?" Mr. Best demanded irritably, taking form, as nattily dressed as ever.</div> <div>      "I have to talk to you about Amanda."</div> <div>      "Who?"</div> <div>      "Let's not be coy, Mr. Best.  Amanda Harris-Olivia Corey."</div> <div>      Now Best scowled.  "You are wasting my time Mr. Collins.  I have appointments to keep.  Neither you nor Miss Harris are of any concern to me any more.  Now if you'll excuse me-"</div> <div>      "No!" Quentin's imperious tone caused Best to stop dematerializing.  He looked at Quentin with outraged disbelief.  "You have to tell me about this deal you made with Amanda."</div> <div>      "You have an incredible amount of nerve, young man!" Mr. Best snapped angrily.  "I have no deal with your Amanda.  She cheated!"</div> <div>      Quentin's jaw dropped.  "<I>Amanda</I> cheated?  She told me you had it rigged so that we'd escape!"</div> <div>      Best's eyes nearly popped from his head.  "Well, I never! She told you that <I>I</I> fixed the deal?  Why, the nerve!  And to think that for all these years I had a soft spot for her and felt sorry for her!"  His voice took on a tone of betrayal as he mocked himself.   "Such a marshmallow!  Feeling sorry for her, ending her young life over a worthless young man!  Little did I know that you were of equal value!"</div> <div>      "Now wait just a damn minute!" Quentin exclaimed, resentfully.</div> <div>      "I don't have a damn minute!" Mr. Best shouted and began to fade again.</div> <div>      "Who did she make a deal with?"  Quentin shouted.</div> <div>      Behind them, the door opened.  "What are you doing, Quentin?" Amanda screamed in alarm.</div> <div>      "She can tell you herself!  Now I really must be going-and don't you dare summon me here again!" Mr. Best scolded in an insulted tone, materializing again.  "I acted in good faith!  I have never ever been confronted with a swindle before-this young lady is quite accomplished.  You got no bargain, my boy.  You'll regret this very much, I'm sure!"  With that, Mr. Best was gone.</div> <div>      Quentin whirled on Amanda, who was white with terror and anger.  "Just what the hell is going on here, Amanda?  You lied to me!"</div> <div>      "What?" Amanda shrieked.  "I lied!  You mean you believe that demon?"</div> <div>      "What would be his motive for lying?" Quentin demanded, his voice rising in fury.</div> <div>      "He wants-he wants-your family!" Amanda burst out wildly.</div> <div>      "What does he want with my family, Amanda?  Look, do you really think I'm a total ass?  I know what he is!  What does he want with my family?  My family isn't his concern, and you know that-you just picked him as your scapegoat, didn't you?"</div> <div>      Amanda swallowed, her mouth opening and then closing.  "I-I---"</div> <div>      "You made a deal with someone-something else, didn't you?"  Quentin began to advance on her.  "Who, Amanda?  You tell me!"  She turned and bolted.  Quentin ran after her, chasing her into the woods.  "Amanda!" he yelled.  "Come back here!"  </div> <div>      He couldn't believe that she would be able to get away from him.  She was no athlete and didn't know her way around the property.  To his utter shock, however, he lost sight of her as they ran further into the leafy underbrush.  He stopped, listening, sure he'd be able to hear her crashing through the branches.  There was no path here; they'd run straight into the woods.  It was frighteningly still-no light breeze stirring, no birds singing, no squirrels scampering up the trees and leaping from branch to branch.  "Amanda!" he called, feeling goosebumps break out on his arms.  <I>This is really weird.</I>  There was no answer.  </div> <div> He searched for her for over an hour, calling to her, pleading with her to come out.  He began to realize what he'd done. <I>Now what am I going to do?</I> He wondered.  Once again, he'd lost his temper.  Jenny told him not to send Amanda away-she'd warned him that would be dangerous.  <I>I never should have contacted Mr. Best at the cabin-I should have known she might walk in and see him.</I> <I>Why don't I ever learn?</I> He wondered, feeling despair descending on him like a mantle.  </div> <div> As he stood alone in the thick of the trees, the deep silence began to unnerve him.  There was no sound here at all.  <I>How could she have just disappeared like that?</I>  There was not a sign anywhere that she'd ever been here, he realized.  No footprints, no broken twigs…nothing.  He thought he heard something then.  It sounded like the echo of laughter.  The hairs on the back of his neck prickled and he stiffened, terrified now.  <I>Frederick Dorn!</I>  He felt dizzy suddenly, and images he hadn't thought about in months intruded into his thoughts.  He could almost feel the cold walls of the cell and the dampness of the single thin blanket on his cot.  He thought he heard faint screams.  <I>Quentin, Quentin!</I></div> <div> He staggered, leaning against a tree for support, his eyes filling with tears.  <I>Beth, my god, it's Beth again.</I>  Somewhere a branch snapped from a tree with a loud <I>craa-aack,</I> and Quentin jumped.  He felt every blow of the cane on his body; sometimes it was the wolf's head cane descending on him, then it was the rattan cane the soldiers used.  Dorn's cruel laughter filled his ears again, and Quentin could stand no more.  Panicking, he began to run blindly through the trees.  He tripped and fell full length on the ground.  He scrambled to his feet almost immediately and ran for the main house.</div> <div> Amy stood just outside the door and watched without a word as Quentin stumbled into the clearing and fell again.  When he looked up and saw her, he felt ashamed and foolish.  He stood up, brushing his clothes, trying not to tremble and appeared to stroll casually over to her.  She looked at him with the sullen contempt that only a teenager can express.  "Have you seen Amanda?" he asked her.</div> <div> "She's gone," Amy answered flatly.  She turned and walked toward the driveway to the road.  "I have to go to school."</div> <div> "Did she come back here?" Quentin called after her, and she shrugged her shoulders in an infuriatingly indifferent manner.  <I>Kids!</I>  He went into the house and could hear Chris and Sabrina talking in the kitchen.</div> <div> Sabrina looked around at him as he came in, frying pan in hand.  "Good morning, Quentin, do you want-" She stopped abruptly, her eyes widening.</div> <div> Chris looked up from his cup of coffee and the newspaper.  "What happened to <I>you</I>?" he asked.</div> <div> "Busy day," Quentin answered abruptly.  He wasn't ready to talk about it yet; he needed to sort out his feelings about what had happened.  "Did Amanda come here?"</div> <div> Chris and Sabrina looked at each other with some understanding.  "No, she didn't," Sabrina answered.</div> <div> "You guys have a fight?" Chris asked.</div> <div> "Sort of," Quentin hedged.  He began to pace, thinking.  "I have to go out of town for a few days," he announced abruptly.  His tone indicated he didn't want to be asked about it.</div> <div> "Okay," Chris replied cautiously.  "And what are we to tell Amanda if she turns up?"</div> <div> "Just that I'll be back," Quentin replied brusquely.  He'd made his decision.  "I need to use your phone."  He knew that Chris and Sabrina were probably wondering what on earth was going on, but he just couldn't explain it now.  Jenny had warned him to be careful around Amanda, and he'd carelessly tipped her off instead.  Now he felt he had to get to Hunter as quickly as possible.  He picked up the phone in the living room and dialed Katie's number.</div> <div> The phone rang for a long time before someone finally answered, "Hideaway Chalet."  <I>Wrong number? </I>He wondered, and then he remembered what Amanda had told him.</div> <div>      "Hello, is Katie Baumgartner there?"  he asked, confused.</div> <div>      "She's seating someone right now.  May I help you?"</div> <div>      "Who is this?"</div> <div>      "Kristin Baumgartner.  Who's this?"</div> <div>      "Kristin?"  he echoed.  That was Katie's next-to-youngest, named for Beth.  The last time he'd seen her, during Woodstock weekend in August of last year, she'd been a snotty little fourteen-year-old teenybopper crazy over the Monkees and Bobby Sherman. "It's Quentin, Kristin," he began.  He pulled the receiver away from his ear as she shrieked into it.  He heard someone fumbling with the phone and in the background, the sound of two voices fussing at each other.</div> <div>      "Quentin?"  It was Lisa.   He could see her clearly--cornsilk blonde hair and cornflower blue eyes.  She was a tall girl, broad shouldered but still very feminine.  She was a true German farmgirl, and he could see Beth in the shape of her face and in her eyes, which made Amanda's revelations even more distressing.</div> <div>      "Lisa," he said softly.  "How have you been?"  He didn't want to give anything away.</div> <div>      "I've missed you," she whispered. "I've thought about you."</div> <div>      He knew then that she still had a crush on him.  "Are you straight?" he asked.</div> <div>      "Would it matter to you if I was?" she asked, with a hint in her voice.</div> <div>      <I>Only because you are Beth's granddaughter-mine, too, I guess,</I> he thought, but of course he couldn't say it out loud.  "Of course it matters," he replied roughly.  "Are you?"</div> <div>      "Now and then," she replied evasively, and his heart sank.  Amanda wasn't lying.</div> <div>      "I'm coming up to see you all," he said carefully. Lisa didn't know his relationship to Katie; that was part of the agreement.  If Beth never came back, the secret would die with Katie and Mary Jane.  If and when he did find Beth, she'd have to be told that she had grandchildren--but that she couldn't claim them.  Not without opening a can of worms they'd all agreed was best left alone.  </div> <div>      "It'll be good to see you, Quentin, Mom'll be thrilled," Lisa answered dutifully.  She lowered her voice.  "And me, too."</div> <div>      He sighed.  She hadn't given up-she was still trying to seduce him, and she didn't understand why he wasn't succumbing to her charms.  He was beginning to feel uncomfortably warm.   "What's this Hideaway Chalet stuff? Why didn't anyone tell me?"</div> <div>      "Oh, the mutti and vati have gone bourgeois," Lisa replied in a slightly contemptuous tone.  "The barn is now a resort motel.  It was <I>supposed</I> to be a surprise.  That's why Mom never said anything when you called."</div> <div>      "When did this happen?"</div> <div>      "Well, they opened the restaurant right after we got back from Woodstock.  I know you were in a big hurry to take off, but don't you remember the renovations?"  Quentin closed his eyes to think.  Come to think of it, he remembered a lot of construction going on around the house, but he'd just assumed it was normal repairs.  "The old farmhouse is now the Chalet Hideaway restaurant.  Well, the downstairs anyway.  They built a little house next door for Joe.  He does the books.  Mama and Daddy made the upstairs into a little apartment for themselves and Kristin and Katja."</div> <div>      It was still difficult to take in.  For so many years, Rolf and Katie had enjoyed farming. "A restaurant, huh?"</div> <div>      "Yes, she and Daddy have become quite the capitalists now."</div> <div>      "Where are you in all this?"</div> <div>      "Well, Kristi and I are the slave labor, and Kat's a slave-in-training."</div> <div>      "C'mon Lisa," Quentin cajoled, beginning to feel irritated at her attitude.  "There's no slave labor in this country."</div> <div>      "Tell that to the Gestapo," Lisa said snidely, and Quentin almost replied with a furious retort.  He managed to hold his temper.  She must know something of her parents' past.  It was cruel of her to talk like that.  Fortunately, Lisa sensed that this was a touchy subject and let it drop.  They'd argued about her parents at Woodstock; she hadn't liked it at all and was furious at him for taking their side.  "I guess you mean where do I fit in the picture?  Well, when I'm not away at school and the cottage is empty, I crash there."  She paused meaningfully.  "The honeymoon cottage."  She laughed.  "Can you dig it, man? The barn's been turned into a small motel--it's got two sets of adjoining rooms upstairs and two bedrooms down.  Then the old mill house has been changed into another small motel--three rooms there."</div> <div>      "Well, I'll be damned," Quentin exclaimed, playing dumb.  "So what happened with the farm?"</div> <div>      "Vati's sold off most of it, all except what we need for this resort --oh, and the swimming hole.  We've still got that."</div> <div>      Quentin grinned.  He remembered that swimming hole--it was the most ideal place for skinny-dipping he'd ever seen.  "Too cold to use it now."</div> <div>      "No, but we can have a marshmallow roast there.  When are you coming?  Kristi's already blasting the news to everyone--in case you couldn't tell."</div> <div>      "I thought I would head up there later today."</div> <div>      "Cool!  Mama'll be pleased--oh and you'll have a little surprise when you do come up."</div> <div>      "What?"  </div> <div>      "A little smelly noisy bundle that screams all night."</div> <div>      "Joe's?"  Joe was Katie's eldest son, named for Quentin's alias.  He found that flattering although that wasn't his real name.</div> <div>      Lisa laughed.  "Not just Joe's!  Edle's the one who had it.  They have a little girl."</div> <div>      "No shit!"  A great-grandchild now.  "Well, I can't wait to see her.  Tell Joe and Edle congratulations for me.  I'll see you guys when I get there."  Quentin hung up and put his hands behind his head, thinking.  <I>Beth!  You should've been here to see this</I>.  He could still see her in Berlin; the snowflakes were so large they looked like snowballs falling from the sky.  Where had she been taken?  He could see the look of terror and hopelessness in her eyes as they'd been pulled away from each other and taken to separate cars.  He'd dreamed of that look on her face now for months before he'd come back to Collinwood; the dreams had haunted him as the dreams of Petofi used to.  </div> <div>      </div> <div>      The Baumgartners' farm used to run up a private road; the road he turned onto was paved and public.  Already some buildings had gone up on the parcels of land Rolf and Katie had sold.  After he'd driven almost a mile, the Hideaway Chalet suddenly appeared--right on the roadside.  Hideaway--no way, he thought.  He pulled into a parking lot behind what used to be the barn, and got out, looking around.  The old farmhouse was across this new road, with no room for a sidewalk.  It had been remodeled and painted over to look like a two floor chalet.  Next door to it was a modest ranch style house--which must be the house Lisa said her brother and his family were living in.</div> <div>      The barn was red no longer--it was painted white and blue to match the restaurant across the street.  The in-ground swimming pool was still there, but there were more lounge chairs around and several tables set up for guests who wanted to relax there.  He walked around the side of the barn.  On this side of the road, a football-sized field separated the barn from the other remodeled "motel".  The field was set up for badminton, shuffleboard, and other field games.  Quentin was impressed.  Not bad, not bad at all, he thought.  There was a small cottage down a ways from the barn--which used to be the caretakers' cottage. Lisa probably lived there.</div> <div>      "Quentin, you're here!"  he heard her call exuberantly.  He had just enough time to turn and catch her as she launched herself onto him, throwing her legs around his hips.  He staggered backwards and almost went down, especially when she planted a sizzling kiss on his lips.  He grabbed her tightly and caught his balance.  Jeez--she still moved like lightning!</div> <div>      "He's here!  He's here!" he heard Kat yelling.  The door to the restaurant flew open and two more blonde streaks rushed out, running into the street without looking.  Quentin was unsuccessfully trying to pry Lisa's legs from his hips.  His face turned bright red from embarrassment.  Now Katie was coming out the door.</div> <div>      Fortunately, Katja and Kristin rescued him by jumping on him too, which effectively dislodged Lisa, and he was able to face Katie, smiling, hoping nothing was showing.  Katie had always been a look alike for Beth, he thought, and this is what she would have looked like had she aged normally--he was sure of that.  Her hair was still blonde; he could barely see the gray. She had Beth's large blue eyes and gentle smile.  Still, he could see the wrinkles at her eyes and the laugh lines around her mouth.  In spite of that, she still looked beautiful at fifty.  He put his arms around her and pulled her close. She would always be his baby, the first one who called him "Daddy" when he married Beth.</div> <div>      "Quentin, it's been too long," Katie said softly.  "We've missed you--I've missed you."</div> <div>      He just held on to her, without being able to say a word to her just yet.  Rolf stood by, squat and bald, awkwardly waiting to say hello. Quentin reached over to shake hands with him.</div> <div>      "We have a surprise for you, Quentin.  Come and see," Katie said, releasing him and taking him by the hand.</div> <div>      "ANOTHER surprise?" he asked, playing dumb.  "Katie, I was about to ask about all this--"</div> <div>      "Come on, come and see, " Katie urged, taking him by the hand and pulling him across the street.  "Not too much traffic here during the week--you'll see."  The three sisters were right behind them chattering and arguing away like a small flock of birds.</div> <div>      "You see all the improvements we make here, ja?" Rolf commented.  His English still sounded broken, even after all these years in the United States.  Quentin thought what a difference 10 years made--Julia had come to America when she was about 12.  No one would ever guess she had been born in Vienna.  Rolf had been smuggled out of Germany at the age of 24 with Quentin.  He would never sound like an American.</div> <div>      They all crossed the street to the ranch sitting beside the farmhouse/restaurant.  "Since when did you become a cook, Katie?"  Quentin asked.  "What made you all decide to do this?  Why didn't you tell me?"</div> <div>      "There's a lot of tourism around here, Quentin--not only for the skiing in the winter time, either.  Folks are coming in the summer time, too.  We only have room for people now in the spring and in the fall.  Even those seasons are starting to become smaller for us," Katie explained.</div> <div>      "You make money from all this?"  Quentin asked.  He saw Lisa cross her eyes in disapproval and chose to ignore her.  She had some pretty strong anti-capitalistic feelings about money.  She must drive her parents crazy. Even now she was wearing a full-length peasant skirt and was barefoot; although it was the end of April, it was still chilly in the mountains.  Her skirt was brightly colored, like one Magda used to wear.  Gypsy skirt...Quentin stopped cold, an idea flickering in his head.</div> <div>      "More than from the farm, for sure," Rolf was saying.  He walked on ahead of them.  "No more money in milk no more."</div> <div>      "What's wrong?"  Katie asked, stopping too.</div> <div>      Quentin shook his head.  "Nothing...I...I...just thought of something and it slipped away."</div> <div>      "Don't worry," Lisa teased him.  "What the little birdie took from your brain she'll return to you again."</div> <div>      "Are there any fortune tellers in Hunter?"  Quentin asked.  Now everyone stopped and looked at him.  He realized he must sound foolish.  "I mean, for the tourists..."</div> <div>      "Ach, the gypsies they always steal them blind!"  Rolf exclaimed.  "You don't need your fortune told--you're not a tourist who needs to lose his money, ja?"</div> <div>      "Right," Quentin said, sheepishly.  He'd ask Katie later.  He let himself be led into the ranch house and pretended to be surprised to see that Joe and his wife Edle had a brand new baby girl.  He always did like babies, and this was a very new one.</div> <div> Edle offered the baby to him; he was almost afraid to take her.  He couldn't remember ever holding a baby this young.  "She's beautiful," he told them, holding the baby very gingerly.  She was anything but, in reality.  She was red and peeling, and she had a splotch (an "angel's kiss" he knew it was called) across her forehead.  She was still almost curled up in a fetal position.  He touched her tiny palm, and her fingers automatically grasped his finger tightly.  "How old is she?  What's her name?"</div> <div>      "Jennifer, and she's a week old," Edle said proudly.</div> <div>      Jennifer!  Quentin thought, inwardly rolling his eyes.  Edle must be another "Love Story" fan.  "How nice," he said.  Jennifer Baumgartner.  Poor kid.</div> <div>      "I was there," Joe said proudly.  "Edle was great."</div> <div>      "You were there?  You mean when she--"</div> <div>      "Yeah, we took these classes together, and it was really cool, man.  I got to cut the cord, too, man," Joe said excitedly.  Edle looked at him fondly.  Quentin felt a little squeamish.  He'd heard about this new way for having babies--now the father was allowed to be in the delivery room.  That might be fascinating, he thought, but cutting a pulsating cord...</div> <div>      "He was wonderful.  I thought he was going to pass out, but he didn't," Edle was saying.  The baby had begun to grimace and mewl so Quentin handed the baby back to Edle.  She left to nurse the baby-that practice was out of vogue now with the advent of baby formulas.  This was so different from when he'd seen Ruth nursing Roger-she'd made it seem so natural.     "We hoped you would be here in time for dinner," Katie was saying.  "It won't be busy tonight at all.  We have only two guests--beside you, of course.  There is one coming-a surprise-but not until much later.  You can pretty much have your pick of the rooms.  Our other guests are staying downstairs in the old barn.  We'll have a full house this weekend--Hunter Mountain has developed a large park for festivals.  The first German one of the season is this weekend--May Day.  You'll stay, won't you?"</div> <div>      "I think I could be convinced," Quentin said.</div> <div>      "Ja, gut," Rolf said.  "We dress you up and make you the maitre d', ja?"</div> <div>      Everyone laughed. Katie offered to show Quentin the rooms so that he could decide where he wanted to sleep.  The two room downstairs shared a porch, and the other couple was sitting outside, enjoying the spring weather.  They looked like they were about Katie's age and smiled pleasantly at them.</div> <div>      "Gruss Gott," the woman said to Katie pleasantly.  "Wie wird das Wetter?"  She was asking about the weather.</div> <div>      Quentin was surprised.  His German was very rusty but he decided to give it a try. "Wir bekommen schones Wetter," he said, and the sound of his voice sounded awkward.  He answered that was supposed to be pleasant.</div> <div>      The woman looked very pleased.  "Sehr gut!"</div> <div>      "Das ist mein Cousin..." Katie began the introduction and then looked at Quentin.  She knew about his many aliases; in Chicago, he'd been Frank Healey.  In Washington, he'd become Joe Fisher and continued under that name in Vienna.  Years later, he'd become Grant Douglas.</div> <div>      "Quentin Collins," Quentin said helpfully.  He finally could be himself--for now.</div> <div> "You are not German, like Rolf,"  the man commented, continuing in German inquiringly.  He introduced himself and his wife. He didn't feel comfortable with the English language and preferred German, he went on.</div> <div>      Quentin explained he'd spent a few years in Austria and Germany, which is where he'd learned German.  Actually, Beth had taught him to speak German as fluently as she could by the time they'd arrived in Vienna, but he didn't want to talk about it.  Neither did Katie.  She excused herself and opened the other downstairs room.  It was very nice--a typical motel room.  He didn't really want to be so close to the couple next door, even if they were pleasant, so he allowed Katie to take him upstairs.</div> <div>      "We have two sets of rooms up here," she explained.  "Two on one side of the hall; two on the other.  They're for families, really.  The bathroom connects the two rooms."</div> <div>      "But I could stay up here?" Quentin asked.</div> <div>      "Of course, Daddy, you can stay anywhere you like."</div> <div>      At the old familiar endearment, Quentin put his arms around Katie again and squeezed her tightly.  "I missed you--a lot," he said softly.</div> <div>      Katie's eyes had filled with tears.  "I'm glad you could come back now.  It's so hard having to...to..." she broke off.  When the children were all little, he'd been a frequent visitor.  As they began to grow up, though, they knew the children would begin to wonder about him and so he disappeared.  He reappeared in their lives two years ago and could safely visit them for a few years before he'd have to "disappear" again.  Other than Katie, only Rolf knew the truth.</div> <div>      "I know.  It's hard for me, too," Quentin said, swallowing hard.  He was thinking of Beth now.</div> <div>      Katie was too.  "Have you had any word since--"  she broke off when he shook his head, no.  She sighed.  </div> <div>      "I haven't given up, though," Quentin assured her.  "There's a woman in Hunter somewhere, Katie.  I have to find her."</div> <div>      "Does she know where Mama is?"</div> <div>      "No...not exactly, but she'll lead us to her," Quentin said evasively.</div> <div>      "A gypsy?" Katie guessed, sounding doubtful.</div> <div>      "Yes, I think so.  I'm not sure.  Katie, do you know a woman named CaraLinda Romano?" Katie shook her head, no.  Quentin sighed.  "I think that's who I'm looking for."</div> <div>      "Well, it sounds like you're going to be here for a little while--I'm glad, Daddy. Only Peter won't be here.  He went back to school after Easter break last week.  We can all catch up with each other--as much as possible--after dinner.  How are you at dishes?"</div> <div>      "Dishes?" his voice scaled up.</div> <div>      "We're the help now, Dad!"  Katie teased.  </div> <div>      He shook his head, marveling.  "I guess I won't break any dishes.  I still can't believe you did this, though."</div> <div>      "Well, if the von Trapps could make a go of it, I don't see why we can't," Katie answered.  "We just can't sing."</div> <div>      Quentin laughed.  "How do you know until you've tried?"</div> <div>      "We have an upright in the parlor still!"  Katie said excitedly.  "You could play for us--like old times, eh?"</div> <div>      His smile was a little sad.  "Like old times."</div> <bR> <bR> <div>      Quentin could pick tunes out by ear, much to the delight of the young Baumgartners.  Kristi and Kat liked a new group called the Jacksons and began singing the hit, "ABC".  He was able to pick up and play along with them.  It sounded like bubble-gum to him-like Bobby Sherman.  He played the new ballad by the Beatles, "Let It Be" and then "House of the Rising Sun" because he liked it. He played songs, including German waltzes that he knew Katie and Rolf would enjoy.  Rolf kept the beer flowing, and so he played until after midnight. </div> <div>      The last song he thought to play was "Bridge Over Troubled Water" because he thought it was pretty.  As he played, he thought of Beth--he didn't know why the song should suddenly remind her of him, and he felt suddenly deeply depressed.  He stopped playing.</div> <div>      "Can you do `Easy Come, Easy Go'?" Kristi wanted to know.  She still liked Bobby Sherman.</div> <div>      "Nah, I'm tired," Quentin said, begging off.  He didn't feel like playing anything at all anymore.  He just wanted to escape into his room and be alone.  He wished he'd thought to bring some brandy with him.  He got up and stretched, even as the girls continued to ask for more songs.</div> <div>      Apparently only Katie knew how the song had affected him.  She walked him across the street to the reconverted barn, their arms around each other's waists.  She was quiet until they reached the door, and then she said, "You were thinking about Mama again, weren't you?"</div> <div>      He laughed a little.   "Am I that obvious?"</div> <div>      "No, I just saw the look in your eyes.  Don't worry, Dad.  She'll be back."</div> <div>      He hugged her, wondering.  "Katie?  Why didn't you tell me about the farm?"</div> <div>      He could feel her body tense a little.  "I didn't want to worry you.  It was such a big change for Rolf and me, but I knew you had other things you were preoccupied with.  Mama-and whatever it was that kept you from coming at Christmas."  She sounded just a little reproachful.</div> <div>      "I wish you'd said something."  Did she think he was neglecting them?  "Do you need money, Katie?"</div> <div>      In the darkness, her light laughter sounded like Beth's.  His throat tightened painfully.  "No, Dad, we're all right-the land went for quite a bit of money.  The developers want to build houses all around us.  It'll be good for business."</div> <div>      <I>But did you really want to do this?</I> He wondered.  He didn't get a chance to ask because Katie stood up on tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek and whisper a soft good night to him. She went back across the street, and he went inside the door.  The light was out downstairs, so the couple had turned in for the night.  He went up the stairs quietly, which wasn't easy because each one creaked as he put his weight on it. It was quieter upstairs in this reconverted barn than it had ever seemed at Collinwood, he thought.  He turned on the television, just to keep him company.  He tried to put the words of the song out of his head for now. He really liked it, but it made him feel too sad right now.</div> <div>      It was a great family suite, he thought, thinking about places he and Beth had stayed in with the kids.  They'd been similar to this.  He and Beth had slept in one room; the three children slept in the other, and there was a bathroom that connected the two.  Privacy had become something of a problem later, but by then, they'd settled in a townhouse in Vienna.  He fell asleep, remembering the sound of the Danube--he and Beth had loved to stroll along its banks.</div> <div>      </div> <div>      Banging on his door woke him up; he felt like he'd just gotten to sleep and groaned.  "Quentin, Mommy says your breakfast is going to be all dried up if you don't get up now!"  Kat was yelling.  Why did twelve-year-old girls have to be so LOUD?</div> <div>      "Go away, Kat!  It's too early!" he called back.  To his consternation, the door opened and both Kat and Kristin jumped on the bed with him.  "Jesus Christ!" he yelled, alarmed.  He was glad he hadn't kicked his sheet off in his sleep this time and rolled onto his stomach.  "Knock it off, willya?  You're gonna break the bed!"</div> <div>      "Get up, get up, get up!" Kat sing-songed.  She then tried to do an imitation of John Wayne.  "You're burning daylight, pardner!"  She and Kristin bounced up and down on the bed, one at either foot, so that they got a rocking motion going.  Quentin couldn't help himself and started laughing.</div> <div>      "Come on, sleepy-head!" Kristin laughed, too, and reached over to tug the sheet down.</div> <div> "NO!" Quentin shouted, seriously alarmed and grabbing on for dear life.</div> <div>      Kristin suddenly realized what the problem was and stopped tugging immediately, he eyes becoming huge.  "Ohmigawd!" she gasped and then started laughing wildly.  She looked at Kat, barely able to explain why she was laughing so hard.  "He's naked, Kat!"</div> <div>      "EWWW!" shrieked Kat, jumping to her feet.</div> <div>      "Thank you very much for letting the whole world know!"  Quentin rolled onto his side and pulled the sheet up to his chin in a mock show of modesty.  "This is what you get for barging in on a man when he's still asleep.  Do you do this to your brothers?"</div> <div>      "We used to," giggled Kat, "but not any more.  They got too old for it."</div> <div>      "Well, jeez, didn't that give you a clue then that it might not be the smartest way to wake me up?" Quentin scolded in a kidding voice.  "What if you'd come in and I didn't have the sheet to cover me?"</div> <div>      "Oh, we know what guys look like there," Kristin said, with a wink.  That was probably the point at which "surprising" the brothers had ended.  Quentin stopped kidding around, noting the speculative expression on her face.  She was no child anymore, and he already had more than enough trouble on his hands with her sister.  Kristin, noting the change in his expression, advised:  "Next time, lock your door."</div> <div>      "Don't worry, I will.  Now get out of here, willya?  I'm awake for good now.  What time is it anyway?  Did the rooster crow yet?"</div> <div>      Kat laughed.  "You're funny!  It's almost nine.  The roosters crowed a long time ago!"</div> <div>      "Yes, well, that's something I normally miss, and so is nine in the morning."</div> <div>      "Not here--not if you want to eat, Quentin," Kristin said, laughing, as she headed to the door.  "Come on Kat.  Let's let poor cousin Quentin cover his naked self so he can still eat a warm breakfast!"</div> <div>      Kat joined her at the door, also giving him a very speculative glance before leaving with her sister.  He'd seen those expressions before on the faces of women who wondered what he hooked like naked.  He felt himself turning bright red, right up to his ears.  The girls saw it and laughed, perversely pleased with themselves.  Then, mercifully, they left him alone.  He collapsed back on the bed and expelled his breath sharply.  He'd have to remember to make sure his door was locked from now on--for sure!</div> <div>      Fortunately, Katie had the girls off doing other chores when he came in to eat, so he didn't have to worry about facing them again.  Katie brought a plate and a cup of coffee out to him and sat across from him.  "Still like to sleep in, eh, Daddy?"</div> <div>      "Some things never change," he said.  "By the way, thanks for sending over the alarm clocks.  Don't do it again."</div> <div>      She laughed.  "Well, I know how you like to sleep in.  The thing is, we're usually done and on the move by now."</div> <div>      "I don't mind cold cereal if you don't mind me helping myself.  And I know how to cook, if I really want to."</div> <div>      "It's a deal," Katie said with a smile.  "Although don't be surprised if we put you to work once the place fills up.  It gets busy."</div> <div>      "For this May day festival?"</div> <div>      "Well, this is the German Catskills.  You know how it is.  The volk don't need much reason to polka and schunkel.  I imagine it's the same way in the Jewish Catskills and the Irish Catskills."</div> <div>      This was news to Quentin. He'd never paid attention to the communities on his previous visits.  "So these mountains have nationalities, do they?"</div> <div>      Katie laughed.  "As a matter of fact, yes.  While you're here, you can do a little more sightseeing--go visit some of the Irish pubs.  They're fun."</div> <div>      "I'll do that.  Thanks, honey."  There was something he had to know.  "Did I hear correctly--Olivia Corey stayed here?"  </div> <div>      "Oh, did you hear about that?" Katie asked, looking pleased.  "Can you imagine?  I don't know why she'd want to stay here, although she did say she enjoyed the solitude.  Our guests didn't recognize her, but of course we did.  We just don't make a big deal of it, and I think she appreciates that."</div> <div>      "I'll bet," Quentin answered dryly.  "So she's been here more than once?"</div> <div>      "Of course.  You just saw her, didn't you?" Katie seemed bewildered.  "She just left."</div> <div>      Prudently, Quentin said, "Yeah, yeah, I saw her as I was coming over.  How long has she been here?"  He felt goosebumps rising on his arms.  This was too spooky.</div> <div>      "She only just arrived last night, very late-after you'd already gone to bed.  But she's been here several times already since the beginning of March."  Katie shook her head, as if in wonder.  "I wonder how she found out about us.  I mean, she doesn't perform here.  She's over in the next town.  She told us you'd interviewed her."</div> <div>      <I>I wonder why she came here now,</I> Quentin thought, feeling inexplicably disturbed.  Amanda never said she'd been here more than once.  He wished he'd never told Amanda about the Baumgartners.  "When do you think she might be back again? I might like to do a short piece on what she's been up to since I last interviewed her."</div> <div>      "Oh, not until late," Katie said with a laugh.  "Well-you should know how performers are, keeping late hours."  She became suddenly pensive, and Quentin thought she might be thinking about his old friend Dave.  She'd liked him very much during the years they lived in Baltimore and he was a frequent guest.</div> <div> <I>I can look for her in town,</I> he thought, not wanting Katie to wonder about his interest in "Olivia Corey".  He decided to broach a more difficult subject.  "By the way, you said Peter's away at school now?" </div> <div>      "Yes, he is.  And don't worry--the alarm clocks won't be around to disturb you tomorrow--they'll be off to school early.  I KNOW you don't want to be getting up at six!"</div> <div>      "SIX?" he groaned, rolling his eyes.</div> <div>      "You know how it is with the girls, dad--gotta have the hair brushed just right, the clothes have to just right, makeup--"</div> <div>      "On Kat?"</div> <div>      "Yes, on Kat!  She's in junior high school now--no baby anymore!  Better not treat her like one, either!"</div> <div>      He almost said, "I know", but bit it back.  Raising kids was easier when Mary Jane and Katie were little.  He didn't remember them becoming interested in make-up and boys until their mid-teens.  Or maybe the years were playing tricks on his memories, too.  Instead, he asked, "So what is up with Anneliese?  Isn't she supposed to be at school too?"</div> <div>      Katie suddenly looked very troubled.  She got up and went to get a pot of coffee.  Oh-oh, thought Quentin, as she refilled his cup and took one for herself.  "She's taking the rest of the semester off."  She clearly seemed to want to talk about it, sipping her coffee slowly.</div> <div>      "Oh?" he asked, to encourage her to talk.  "Why?"</div> <div>      "She flunked out.  That's the term they use for that kind of thing nowadays."</div> <div>      "Flunked out?  I thought she was an honors student!"</div> <div>      "All through high school.  And she was inducted into Phi Theta Kappa at the university last year.  She had straight A's through the end of her sophomore year."  Katie looked clearly anguished.  "Daddy, she's changed so in the last year.  I don't know what's happened to her.  She's been so different since she went to that--that Woodstock concert...or whatever it was!"</div> <div>      Quentin looked at his coffee, feeling guilty. He thought that he should have put it all together long ago, at Woodstock-and even before that, in Chicago.  He remembered sharing joints with "Zenith" but with the company she was keeping, she was probably using other drugs then too.  Katie was saying something and he didn't hear it.  "I'm sorry, I was thinking, honey.  What?"</div> <div>      "You took her with you to Woodstock," Katie repeated.  "How did she seem?"</div> <div>      "She seemed all right," Quentin answered cautiously.</div> <div>      "You left so abruptly after dropping her off, you know.  We didn't get a chance to ask what it was like, and she wouldn't tell us."  Katie looked at him searchingly.  "We saw and heard the news reports.  Was it like that?"</div> <div>      He knew she was referring to the open drug use and sexual activity.  "Some of it," he answered, a little evasively. He couldn't tell her all of the truth, as much as he was tempted to. Remembering it all now he found he couldn't look at Katie, debating inwardly with himself how much he should tell her.  "Katie," he began and stopped.</div> <div>      Katie put her hands on top of his.  "Please tell me, Daddy," she begged.</div> <div>      "I think--I think that Lisa may be experimenting a little," he began again and hesitated.  He knew he was dancing around the issue.  "She may be trying things that aren't good for her."</div> <div>      Katie's eyes widened.  "You mean drugs, don't you?  I was afraid of that!  Did that happen at the concert?"</div> <div>      "No-no hard stuff," Quentin answered truthfully.  "Not that I saw anyway."  He debated whether to tell her what Amanda had said to him.</div> <div>      "Why didn't you tell me?"  Katie asked, her eyes filling with tears.</div> <div>      "I didn't know it went so far," he answered truthfully, pulling her to him and hugging her tightly.  "Ah, Katie, I'm sorry.  I would have told you if I'd thought it was a problem then.  I didn't realize it until, well, just recently."</div> <div>      "And how do you know that it's a problem?" Katie asked.</div> <div>      "The same way you can tell-it's the way she's behaving," he lied.  "It's not that much different than-than Cholly.  Do you remember him?"</div> <div>      "No, but I remember you and Mama talking about him.  Oh, God!"  Katie wept, and Quentin felt his heart become heavy.</div> <div>      "Have you talked to Lisa?" he asked.</div> <div>      "What talk?  We haven't really talked about anything in the last couple of years without it becoming a shouting match.  And Lisa and her father!  When the two of them get going, it's like World War III around here.  I just don't understand where we went wrong. She treats us as if we were horrible, terrible people--like we're--we're Nazis."  At the last word, Katie's voice dropped to a bare whisper.  He could see how hurt she was.</div> <div>      "Maybe I can talk to her," he said, a little reluctantly.  </div> <div>      Katie looked clearly relieved, which added to his guilt.  "Would you, please?  I would be so grateful.  Rolf and I are so worried about this downhill slide she's on.  She failed all her courses last semester and got a warning letter from the dean of students that she would be on probation this semester.  By spring break, she was failing everything again, and her advisor said it was best if she just withdrew.  The advisor told me that Lisa needs to 'get her act together.'  So far, she won't do anything, though--she helps here, grudgingly, but she won't talk to Rolf or me.  And when we tried to get her to go to a counselor, she just laughed."</div> <div>      Quentin felt irritation at Lisa stirring as his compassion for Katie's suffering increased.  He squeezed her hand.  "Don't worry, baby.  I'll talk to her and see if I can reason with her.  Then I'll talk to you some more about it."</div> <div>      Katie kissed the back of his hand gratefully.  "Thank you, Daddy."</div> <div>      He tried to smile at her and managed a small one.  He didn't feel like he would be much help at all.  In fact, he thought he might have caused more harm already.  He had to try, though--for his little girl's sake.  And Beth's.</div> <div>      </div> <div>      He looked for Lisa at the cottage and was relieved that she wasn't there.  Maybe she was visiting her new niece--but that wouldn't be a good place to try and talk to her.  He thought he would catch up with her later.  He got on his bike and headed toward Hunter, looking for gypsies.  Hunter was like many small towns--there were a lot of small shops and antique stores along Main Street.  There were big, old houses with wrap-around porches--very 20s, Quentin thought, and was hit with a wave of nostalgia for the homes in Chicago.  The Janssens had lived in a house like that, and he and Beth had shared an apartment there for a very short period of time.  Nora's house had been like that too, only much grander.  He was looking for a crafts store, possibly a pottery or jewelry shop--something CaraLinda might have been interested in.  He didn't see any fortuneteller signs up.  </div> <div> He was approaching an intersection with two bars, on opposite sides of the street.  He was so shocked--not by the bars--he nearly lost control of his bike.  He turned right and parked his bike along the street.  Looking over his shoulder, he realized what he thought he'd seen was really there--Lisa in a micro-mini skirt and skimpy top, covered by a jeans jacket.  She'd just approached a car and was leaning in the passenger side window.  Alarmed and furious, Quentin was off the bike and striding toward them, nearly running across the street and around the car.  He grabbed Lisa by the elbow and pulled her back roughly.  "What the hell are you doing?"</div> <div>      Lisa shook him off.  "What the hell do you think YOU'RE doing?"</div> <div>      Quentin looked in the car and saw that the driver was a man about forty years old.  "What're you doing with this jailbait, you jerk?"</div> <div>      "Hey, I don't need this shit!" the driver responded, and quickly moved off.</div> <div>      "Jailbait?  You crazy son-of-a-bitch!  I'm twenty-one!"  Lisa shrieked, furious.</div> <div>      Quentin grabbed her by the hand.  "Let's go," he snapped.  She pulled away and looked past him.  Quentin turned and saw a rangy looking bearded man approaching them.  The man didn't look like a druggy or a hippie type.  He wasn't dressed in the latest fashion, either--he looked like Joe Small-town, but there was an air of danger in the way he carried himself.</div> <div>      "Zenith, this fool bothering you?" the man wanted to know.</div> <div>      "This fool is taking Zenith home, asshole!"  Quentin grabbed Lisa's hand again and started to pull her with him.  He heard Lisa make a small surprised noise.  He dropped her hand and turned quickly, driving his fist into the man's stomach.  He dropped down to his knees.  Quentin didn't want to waste his time with the guy so he immediately followed up by kicking him in the face.  The man went over on his back, blood spurting from his nose like a fountain.  Hope I broke it, Quentin thought, grabbing Lisa's hand again.</div> <div>      He yanked her across the street with him, ignoring the fact that she was trying to pull away and the fact she was calling him the vilest names he'd ever heard.  There were a few new ones in there, too, that he was sure was anything but flattering.  As they came to his bike, he wondered how he was going to get her home in this condition.  He stopped and began to speak.  He had to block her from slapping his face, grabbed her wrist and twisted it behind her back.</div> <div>      "Oh, you sorry bastard, let me go!  You're hurting me!" she screamed.</div> <div>      "Shut up and stop fighting, and I'll let you go!" he yelled back at her.  There weren't that many people out; what pedestrians were about had begun to gather.  There was a small group around the injured man on the ground, and another one beginning to gather to watch them argue.  "Do you know any of these people?"</div> <div>      "NO!"</div> <div>      "Well, good!" Mollified, he calmed down a little.  He didn't want Katie and Rolf to hear about this.  "Look, calm down and let me take you home, please?"</div> <div>      "Are you going to run to Mutti and Vati, you mother-fucker?"</div> <div>      "No, and don't provoke me by calling me those names!  Come on, would you?"  He got on the bike and hoped she would, too, without causing a further scene.  She got on behind him and leaned backwards. "Put your arms around me," he snapped.  She did, and pinched the skin of his ribs painfully.  He didn't have protective padding there and yelped.  "Do it again, Lisa, and I'll show you how hard I can pinch you back--and you won't like it," he threatened.</div> <div>      "Ooooh, try me, you big bully," Lisa sneered.</div> <div>      Furious, he started up the bike and roared off.  There was a dozen questions he wanted to ask her.  He wanted to shake her and yell at her, he was so angry.  The trouble with motorcycles, though, was that you couldn't really talk on them.  He finally came to the road leading to the Hideaway Chalet.  "My place!" Lisa screamed into his ear.  He pulled in behind the barn and parked.  Lisa was already off the bike and headed away from him.  He glanced at the restaurant, hoping that Katie and Rolf weren't around.  Then he ran after Lisa.</div> <div>      Her cottage was rather far removed from the rest of the buildings--if Katie and Rolf hadn't seen him arrive, they probably wouldn't know he was there.  He caught up with her but didn't try to touch her.  She opened the door and walked in, starting to pull her denim jacket off.  She walked through a doorway into a connecting room.  There was no door; just beads hanging there.  There was just one piece of furniture in the outer room--a contour chair, covered with what looked like black fur. The rest of the room was strewn with beanbag chairs.  She had a small table with a stereo and a black light on it.  Psychedelic posters plastered all the walls.   Jimi Hendrix was prominent on one wall; Janis Joplin on another.  Both had appeared at Woodstock.  Lisa rounded on him and gave him a look of hostility and hatred.</div> <div>      The intensity of her look stopped him cold.  "Lisa, can we talk, please?"</div> <div>      "I have nothing to say to you, you fascist male chauvinist pig!" Lisa answered between gritted teeth.</div> <div>      He held his arms out.  "I thought we were friends?"</div> <div>      "After what you just did to me?  Word gets around, man! You fucked me but good here!"</div> <div>      "What do you mean?" he demanded.  That was just for show. He knew damn well what she meant.  "What were you doing?" he asked, grabbing her by the arm as she tried to get around him.</div> <div>      "What do you think I was doing?  Let go of me!  How dare you?  You better watch your back, Quentin.  Why did you mess with me, you idiot? Do you have any idea what that cost me?"</div> <div>      "What does that mean, Lisa?  What were you doing with that man?" She glared at him.  "Were you going to sell to him?  What?  Yourself?"</div> <div>      She smiled suddenly.  "The most valuable commodity I have, dear."</div> <div>      He was horrified.  "Are you crazy?  Who was that other guy?  Is he a pimp?"  Lisa smiled, but looked away.  "Anneliese!"  She looked back at him, and the cold smile on her face frightened him.   She looked so much like Beth, and yet..."Why?  Why are you doing this to yourself?"</div> <div>      "Oh, what do you care anyway?" Lisa snapped resentfully.</div> <div>      "I care about you.  I'm worried about you, Liese," he said, distressed.  "These drugs you're doing aren't harmless--it's not like you're just using pot.  You're snorting coke--what else are you doing?  Heroin?  Pills?"</div> <div>      "It helps me get through the day," she answered softly, a little bitterly.  "'I get by with a little help from my friends.'  Well, these are my friends."</div> <div>      "I'M your friend, Lisa.  I don't want you to do this, and I especially don't want you to prostitute yourself to get the shit."</div> <div>      She looked at him loftily, with a slight air of superiority.  "Is that so?  What do you plan doing about it? You're not going to supply me, I know that already.  You are such a total drag, you know that?"</div> <div>      "What do you want me to do about it?"  He figured they could talk it out.</div> <div>      "I want you to help me get to the west coast, where everything is happening," she said, and then laughed.</div> <div>      "This isn't the way to do it," he said harshly.  "Why don't you go back to school?  After you graduate you could move out there!"</div> <div>      "Why do you always sound like such an old man?" she complained.  "I can get out there my own way-I don't need school.  It's boring.  Olivia Corey didn't go to school."</div> <div>      "Oh, yes, Olivia!"   He exclaimed, enraged at the mention of the name.  "So your pimp is selling her drugs, too, huh?  She buys it from you?  Don't you know that you could go to prison for <I>years</I>, Lisa?  This isn't some city where you can just disappear down an alley.   This is a little hick town!"</div> <div>      "Don't I know it!"  Lisa got a cunning look on her face.  "Kiss me," she said suddenly, moving toward him.</div> <div>      "I'm not going to kiss you-are you crazy?"  He shouted at turning her loose and backing away.  "What would your mother say if you got arrested?  This would kill her!"</div> <div>      "Why do you have such a hard-on for my mother?" Lisa yelled back.  "She's old enough to be <I>your</I> mother!  What do you think Vati would say if he knew about <I>that, </I>Quentin?"  It was useless to try and reason with her, he thought.  He moved around her room, pulling open the drawers to search for her stash.  She jumped up.  "What the hell do you think you're doing?"  She reached for Quentin, trying to scratch his face.  He threw her off easily, pushing her back onto her bed.  He found LSD tabs.  <I>Oh, man, this is worse than I thought!</I>  He stuffed them into his pocket.  "Hey!"  Lisa screamed from the bed.</div> <div>      He turned on her, his face white.  "Look, you can't do this to yourself.  Let me help you get off this stuff.  I can get you into a place where they can take care of you-get you off the stuff slowly."</div> <div>      "I don't need that!" Lisa was back up on her feet.  She shoved Quentin. </div> <div>      "Listen," he began, trying one last time to reason with her.  "Do you remember Chicago?  You had all this fire and spunk-you had all these ideas, Lisa.  You have brains-you could make a big difference!  You wanted to make changes-"</div> <div>      Lisa put her hand up.  "Stop!  It's all bullshit.  We can't change anything, Quentin, and there's no use trying.  You knew that, too, didn't you, in Chicago?  I don't want to hear it, man.  The only answer is to just drop out and tune it all out."     Quentin turned back to her dresser, very depressed.  He wasn't able to get through to her but he was determined to take away all her stuff.  "Go ahead, you freak!" Lisa spat in frustration.  "I'll just get more from my old man-he knows how to take care of a lady."</div> <div>      "Sure he does," Quentin replied bitterly.  "Look, do me a favor-don't bring Olivia any more candy, all right?"</div> <div>      "It's not your business!" Lisa shouted.  "She said she would help me!"</div> <div>      Quentin turned, glaring at her.  "She <I>what?</I>  Don't listen to her-she's bullshitting you to get the coke!"</div> <div>      "How do you know?" Lisa was furious.  Her eyes widened with realization.  "Oh, now I see.  Does the <U>National Enquirer</U> know about this?"</div> <div>      Quentin was dismayed.  There was no way he wanted anyone in this family connecting him to Amanda, but Lisa was not stupid by any means.  He hoped she wouldn't bring it up to Katie and thought she might not, especially if they weren't getting along.  Looking at her face, he saw the cunning look return to her eyes, and he didn't like it.  <I>How could she look so much like Beth and yet be so unlike her?</I>  He wondered.  "It's not what you think, Liese," he began.  He didn't want to ask her to keep this quiet from Katie-it was a sure way to put Lisa in control.</div> <div>      Lisa arched her brows with disbelief.  "Well, at least I know you're not queer!"  Her tone was soft and spiteful.  Quentin watched as she struggled with feelings of jealousy and maybe even insecurity-maybe he could make this work for him.  "Do you love her?  A cokehead?"</div> <div>      "No, she's just-a friend."</div> <div>      "Yeah, sure.  She's enough of a friend you don't want me dealing to her though, right?"</div> <div>      "Just like I don't want you on the shit, either!"</div> <div>      Lisa began to laugh then.  "You sure have bad luck with friends, Quentin!"  She scowled.  "She says I could be a model.  She knows an agent.  She says I could make more money on the west coast-modeling.  You asked me what I want you to do-well, I want you to fuck off, Quentin!  Mind your own business."  Her voice took on a threatening tone.  "Amanda has connections-she told me.  Connections that will put you in your place!"</div> <div>      He felt the heat in his face, his hands clenching into fists.  He wanted to shake Lisa and slap her for being a selfish, foolish child.  He couldn't, though.  He had to get out of there before he hit her.  Lisa drew back at the thunderous expression on his face, her own hands clenching.  Quentin strode past her without a word, opening the door.  He stopped, hearing her call to him. "Quentin!  Don't tell!  You'll be sorry if you do!"  He paused just a moment and then slammed the door shut behind him.  <I>Oh God, </I>he thought, as fright and dismay replaced the deep anger he'd just felt.  <I>What am I going to do about her and Amanda?  I have to find Amanda!</I></div> <div> <I>     </I>Quentin was reluctant to talk to Katie about Amanda.  To his relief, as he approached the renovated farmhouse, he saw Rolf standing in the driveway with a truck driver making a delivery of imported German beer.   Quentin slowed down, to give Rolf enough time to sign the delivery sheet.  The driver began unloading the cases of beer.  "Joe!" Rolf called.  His voice still had a thick accent; it sounded like he'd called "Yo!"  He turned, hearing Quentin approaching.  He grinned and said in a teasing manner, "Gerade in der Zeit zu helfen, dieses gute Bier nach innen zu holen!"</div> <div>      Quentin considered telling Rolf he wasn't a laborer and even if the beer was good he didn't want to unload the cases but thought better of it.  The truck driver finished unloading a full pallet of cases.  Rolf, grunting, lifted several and started for the back door. Quentin followed suit.  Joe appeared at the door and held it open for them.  He passed them and went on outside to help.  "Amperestunde, Rolf, gut. Ich muß du um etwas bitten."</div> <div> The words sounded rusty and awkward in Quentin's ears as he told Rolf he needed to know something.  </div> <div> Rolf, however, understood him and smiled.  "Was ist es?"</div> <div> "Wo singt Olivia Corey?"</div> <div> Rolf smiled with some regret.  "Ich wünsche, daß es hier war. Sie hat eine reizende Stimme, wie ein Singvogel."  Quentin smiled wryly, thinking that if only Rolf knew everything he would not wish that Amanda, with a voice like a songbird, was singing here.  Rolf went on helpfully, "Sie ist an der Sonneansichthütte in der Montierung Tremper. Sie probt für den Öffnung Denkmaltag. Dieses ist, was sie Katie und mir erklärte."</div> <div> Quentin frowned.  Amanda was staying here but was rehearsing at a lodge several miles away.  It made no sense.  She should be staying in Mount Tremper, at the Sun View Lodge.  <I>It's because Katie's tied to me that she is here,</I> he thought and shuddered.  Somehow this was more sinister than the Leviathans and Judah Zachary rolled together, and he wished Barnabas and Julia were around.  Quickly, he pushed the thought away. <I>They're not here and they don't care anyway.  Get used to it!</I></div> <div> Rolf saw the frown and didn't know the reason for it.  "Was ist falsch, Quentin?"</div> <div> Quentin shook his head quickly.  "Nichts," he replied to dispel any fear Rolf might have that something was wrong. "Ich wünsche gerade, daß sie hier, auch war. Ich interviewte sie einmal, mich erinnere? Ich hoffte, mit ihr wieder zu sprechen. Alle ich war gerade, ihn denkend, würde sein einfacher, wenn sie war genauer, das bin."  </div> <div> Rolf nodded his head in agreement-it would be easier if Olivia Corey was here now so that Quentin could interview her again. "Gehen Sie und sprechen Sie mit ihr, dann. Er nimmt nicht lang, um dort zu erhalten." He assured Quentin it wouldn't take long to get to the Sun View Lodge.  Then he laughed, slapped Quentin on the back and added, "Versuchen Sie, sie zu veranlassen, für uns herzukommen und zu singen!"</div> <div> Quentin smiled and nodded, thinking that there was no way he would try to persuade Amanda to come back here and sing.  He finished helping Rolf and Joe unload the truck and then went to his motorcycle.  Mount Tremper was less than ten miles away.  He wasn't looking forward to another confrontation with Amanda, but he wanted her to stay away from his family.  As he rode off, he wondered <I>why</I> she was so interested in the Baumgartners.</div> <div> When he arrived at the Sun View Lodge, he immediately sought out the manager and asked for Miss Corey, identifying himself as a reporter from <U>Variety.</U>  The manager took him back immediately, but the stage floor was empty.  A piano player was picking up his music and packing it away.  "Hey, Jeff, where'd Miss Corey go?" the manager called out.</div> <div> The piano player looked over his shoulder and shrugged, shaking his head.  "Alla sudden she's got a headache and splits not five minutes ago," Jeff answered.</div> <div> Quentin turned immediately and raced for the door.  The manager, apparently accustomed to this type of behavior from reporters covering celebrities, didn't react one way or the other.  Quentin came out onto the porch of the resort in time to see a sleek Rolls Royce Silver Shadow pulling away.  He considered following it and decided against it.  He was sure he'd see Amanda again very soon.</div> <bR> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> <A HREF="id127.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="18: Labyrinth of Emotions"><U>18:  Labyrinth of Emotions</U></A>    <A HREF="id129.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="20: Ziganas Cure"><U>20:  Zigana's Cure</U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Cassies Writing"><U>Cassie's Writing</U></A></div> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <div>       </div> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <div>       </div> <bR> <bR> <bR> </td> </tr></table></body>