Puzzle Pieces: Maggie

<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="id87.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="All Hallows Eve"><U><B>All Hallows' Eve</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id88.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Fall Camoflage"><U><B>Fall Camoflage</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id89.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Puzzle Pieces: Cyrus"><U><B>Puzzle Pieces:  Cyrus</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id90.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Puzzle Pieces: Roxanne"><U><B>Puzzle Pieces:  Roxanne</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id91.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Puzzle Pieces: Claude"><U><B>Puzzle Pieces:  Claude</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id92.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Christmas Magick"><U><B>Christmas Magick</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><B>Puzzle Pieces:  Maggie</B><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id94.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Winters Deep Freeze"><U><B>Winter's Deep Freeze</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id95.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Puzzle Pieces: Sabrina"><U><B>Puzzle Pieces:  Sabrina</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id96.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Frostbite"><U><B>Frostbite</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id97.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Puzzle Pieces: The Collins Family"><U><B>Puzzle Pieces:  The Collins Family</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id98.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Biding Time in Purgatory"><U><B>Biding Time in Purgatory</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id99.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Puzzle Pieces: Quentin"><U><B>Puzzle Pieces:  Quentin</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id100.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Family Secrets"><U><B>Family Secrets</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id102.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Vortex"><U><B>Vortex</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id101.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Spring Whirlwind"><U><B>Spring Whirlwind</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id103.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Den of Vipers"><U><B>Den of Vipers</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id104.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Puzzle Pieces: Angelique"><U><B>Puzzle Pieces:  Angelique</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id105.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Converging Forces"><U><B>Converging Forces</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id106.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Flames of Purification"><U><B>Flames of Purification</B></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id85.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Adam in Parallel Time"><U><B>Adam in Parallel Time</B></U></A></div> </td> </tr><tr> <td valign="top" width=210 BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#080000"> <div> <B>Puzzle Pieces:  Maggie</B></div> <bR> </td> <td valign="top" height=390 BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#080000"> <div>      Maggie took a look in the mirror and sighed with dissatisfaction.  She was too pale and way too plain looking, she thought, beginning to apply makeup.  My cheekbones stick out, she thought.  I'm too thin.  I'm not nearly as pretty as Jennifer is-I can't imagine what it is Quentin sees in me.  Maybe he was still attracted to her sister.  He certainly looked at her a lot when they'd visited her on Christmas Eve.</div> <div>      Maggie had always stood in her older sister's shadow. Barely two years separated her from Jennifer. She remembered that all through grammar school, she had the bad luck of being assigned almost all of the same teachers Jennifer had had.  Jennifer was very outgoing and warm, and very beautiful.  Maggie was very bright, but she was shy, withdrawn and plain. Sometimes the teachers would sigh and say to her, "Oh, I remember when I had Jenny in this class.  She was so lively, and you are so quiet.  She always participated in all the discussions--how is she now?" It was worse in the upper grades because Maggie was skipped ahead a grade.  From seventh grade on, she was always just one year behind Jennifer.</div> <div>      Unlike some sisters who were close in age, Jennifer and Maggie didn't have much to fight about.  They had very little in common and so spent very little time together.  Jenny liked to run with the fun crowd.  She was always out on the weekends, pushing the limits of curfew their parents had set.  Maggie, on the other hand, became friends with the so-called "square-pegs."  She liked to go to the library and take quiet walks.  She was dreamy; she didn't mind being alone and spent much of her time either reading or writing.</div> <div>      Maggie knew that one of the reasons Jenny didn't like to be at home was because of their parents' drinking and fighting.  It hadn't always been like that.  Maggie had memories of herself and Jenny as small girls, going to the beach or out on the boat with Pop.  When she thought about it, it was usually because Mama was upset about something.  Mama was upset frequently and would become very angry.</div> <div>      Once, when Maggie was almost four, Jenny had suggested a game of `swimming pool'.  There was a hole in the backyard; the girls didn't know what it was for.  Jenny had filled the hole with water from the hose, and then she and Maggie had climbed in.  They splashed each other gaily.  It didn't matter that the water was muddy; it was a hot day, and the water felt cool.  As Jenny refilled the pool (it kept draining into the earth), Maggie sat down in the muddy water with a kerplop.  A huge wave covered Jenny with dirt, too, and they both laughed until they heard Mama screaming at them:  "What the hell do you think you're doing?"</div> <div>      Mama was there, yanking Jenny roughly by the arm.  "Look at the mess you've made!  What's the matter with you?  Why did you let your little sister get filthy like that?"  Suddenly, Jenny fell to the ground, her nose spurting blood.  That was why Maggie remembered it so well-the sight of the blood pouring from her sister's nose frightened her terribly.  She really didn't remember many things from this age, but she did remember Mama picking Jenny up in her arms and running into the house with her.</div> <div>      Frightened, Maggie had followed them.  She stuck her first two fingers into her mouth, sucking them to soothe herself.  She remembered standing in the kitchen door, watching her mother lay Jenny on the table.  Mama tilted Jenny's head back and got a cold, wet washcloth, pressing it to her sister's nose.  She remembered hearing Mama saying in a shocked, frightened voice, "Don't tell Daddy, honey, please don't tell Daddy."  Maggie never did, and she was sure Jenny didn't either.  She was afraid to look at Jennifer after their mother had made her nose bleed.  She hid in her room the rest of the day.</div> <div>      Somehow Pop seemed to sense that something was wrong.  He took the boat out early every morning.  He was in charge of one of the many fishing boats owned by the Collins family.  He would arrive back just as school was letting out, and that was when he would take the girls on outings with him.  Sometimes they would go to the beach, sometimes they'd go to the dock or the wharf, and sometimes he would even take them to the cannery with him.  Once in a while, he'd take them to the movies or out for an ice cream.  It was always fun going out with Pop.  As the girls grew a little older, Pop would take them to his studio.</div> <div>      Pop's studio was a room within the cannery-in the basement.  Here in this room, Pop had canvases of seascapes and ships.  Once in a while, he'd paint a field, but that was rare.  The first time Pop brought them to the studio, he had them sit side by side, holding bouquets of wild flowers.  He painted them over several days.  As the girls sat, they listened to Pop's stories of going out on the boats and catching fish.  He spoke of his friendship with the reclusive Jamison Collins.  "That's how I come to get this room, y'know," Pop explained proudly.  "I take Mr. Jamison out so's he can try for the big fish.  He likes to fish, he does-he just don't want other people t'know it.  He's supposed to be so high and mighty and not smelly like us who fish."  Pop laughed.  "You girls got a secret to keep for your Pop now, eh?"</div> <div>      They giggled.  They knew about keeping secrets.  So that is what Pop did on Saturday mornings-he was taking old Jamison Collins out in the ocean to fish!  They didn't understand why Mr. Collins didn't want anyone to know that he liked to fish.  Rich people were certainly strange!  Sometimes they heard their parents speaking of the rich Collins family.  Their mother felt that Pop ought to be paid better, doing the favors he was doing for "that old goat."  </div> <div>      "Oh, stop, Mary, would you please?" Pop said tiredly.  "I like taking him out.  He talks to me regular-like.  We're friends."</div> <div>      "Friends!  You'd think he'd be a better friend then and slip you a few extra dollars!  It would certainly help around here.  And the secrets he tells you-imagine what people in town would give to know about his loose daughter and his degenerate son!"</div> <div>      "I'm sorry I ever told ya!" Pop shouted suddenly.  "Don't ever let me hear you speak of it to anyone, do ya hear me?"</div> <div>      "Don't worry-I wouldn't want you to lose your job!" Mama sneered.</div> <div>      "It's not that!" Pop continued to shout angrily.  "The man's hurting!  He confided in me.  I should have known better than to tell you about it!"</div> <div>      Maggie and Jennifer hurried out of the house.  They didn't really understand the argument, just that Mama and Pop seemed to do it a lot.  Just before Maggie started seventh grade, Pop began drinking at the Blue Whale almost every night.  He'd come staggering in late, reeking of whiskey or beer, and then he and Mama would have another fight.  The two sisters were big enough to stay out of their mother's way; now they began to avoid Pop when he'd been drinking.  Jenny's method was to go out and stay out with her friends; Maggie's was to lock herself in her room with her books and write or study.</div> <div>      At the end of Maggie's fifth grade year, her teacher and principal called Mama and Pop to recommend that she skip sixth grade by taking some advanced summer school classes.  In the fall, she would enter directly into seventh grade.  The Evans' were surprised and proud.  For the first time, Maggie found herself thrust uncomfortably into the center of attention.  All the praise and petting frightened her, and she retreated back into her room.</div> <div>      Seventh grade was both a difficult and wonderful year for her.  She was a year younger than the other students, who seemed so much more grown up than she was.  They laughed at her for some of her lingering childish ways and she retreated into a shell of her own making, her feelings hurt.  She felt dumb and awkward.  Worse, Jennifer was there, a popular, self-confident eighth grader. Sometimes her friends would make fun of Maggie, and Jennifer never said a word to stop them.</div> <div>      The wonderful part was the boy who began hanging around with Jennifer.  He was the handsomest boy Maggie had ever seen in her life.  When she was younger, many of her playmates were boys, and it was fun to play baseball and dodge ball with them.  Later, boys were "icky" and had become foreign creatures to be avoided.  The first time she saw Jennifer walking down the hall with the boy, she'd almost made a fool of herself gawking at them.  He had dark hair but the most brilliant blue eyes she'd ever seen.  They didn't seem to notice her staring at them and walked right by to their next class.</div> <div>      Maggie desperately wanted to know who this gorgeous boy was, but she was afraid to ask Jennifer about him.  Her sister was very possessive and very secretive.  When she left the house early Saturday morning, Maggie wondered if she would spend any of her time that weekend with that boy.  She felt an urge to follow her sister, but she quickly repressed it and turned back to her books instead.  She found herself daydreaming about the boy, wondering what it would be like to kiss someone with eyes as blue as the sky.</div> <div>      Eventually, and not necessarily through Jennifer, Maggie learned that the boy's name was Quentin Collins and that he had an odd background.  Maggie had one close friend named Ellen, and her father was the accountant for Mr. Jamison Collins.  "He's a Collins?" Maggie was genuinely surprised.  "But I thought all the Collinses didn't go to school."</div> <div>      "It's not that they don't go to school," Ellen confided, "it's just that the rest of them have their own private governess who teaches them.  They're so <I>rich!</I>"</div> <div>      "Why doesn't he have a governess, too?"</div> <div>      Ellen knew bits and pieces of the story and was eager to share it. Apparently her dad enjoyed telling stories about the "high and mighty" Collins family at the dinner table, although he was careful not to talk to anyone else about it.  He did caution his children not to talk, but Ellen didn't see anything wrong with talking to another child about what she heard.  "He wasn't always a Collins," Ellen explained.  "I mean, he didn't always live there.  Old Mr. Collins was supposed to let one of his children inherit everything, but they were both bad."</div> <div>      "Really?  What did they do?"  Maggie was very curious.  This was her first real look into the secret world of the rich ruling family of Collinsport.  The only other thing she'd heard about them up to now were the hints her mother dropped and her father's shouts of anger about it.</div> <div>      "Well, the daughter was fast," Ellen explained.</div> <div>      "What is that?" Maggie asked, innocently.</div> <div>      "Oh, she was going to have a baby without being married first," Ellen whispered, her eyes round with excitement.  This was really juicy stuff!</div> <div>      "No!"</div> <div>      "Oh, yes!  She had to get married to the boy, and he was really no good.  He ran away.  What was worse, she was going to have another baby, too."</div> <div>      "Oh, no!"  Maggie was horrified.  Poor girl, she thought.</div> <div>      Ellen wasn't so sympathetic.  "Yes, indeed.  And Old Mr. Collins was so angry with her.  He said she had no more common sense than a goose.  And then his oldest son…" Her voice dropped down to a whisper again.  "Mr. Collins won't leave anything to him because he won't have any grandchildren."  She looked at Maggie meaningfully, but her friend just looked blank.  "Don't you understand?" she asked, exasperated.  When Maggie shook her head no, Ellen sighed and whispered into her ear, "It's because he likes other men."</div> <div>      Maggie drew back, puzzled.  "What's wrong with that?"</div> <div>      Ellen began to laugh.  "You really don't know, do you?  Didn't your mom and dad tell you <I>anything?</I>"</div> <div>      "About what?"</div> <div>      "Why, about sex, silly!"</div> <div>      Maggie blushed.  "Well-"</div> <div>      Ellen winked at her.  "It's all right.  Come to my house after school.  I have a book I'll show you."  </div> <div> Maggie usually went right home after school but curiosity got the best of her, so she went home with Ellen and looked at the book.  She was shocked at the pictures and even more shocked to read what men and women did together.  She turned bright red.  It just didn't seem possible.  If that seemed improbable, then how could two men-she pushed the thought out of her mind and asked, "Where did Quentin come from?"</div> <div> "Oh, there was another son-but he died," Ellen said airily, looking at the pictures in the book with a great deal of interest.  She looked at Maggie's red face.  "We'd better put this back before my parents come home."  As she slipped the book back into its hiding place, Ellen continued, "The other son died during the war.  He was in love with one of the servants at Collinwood.  I think he would have married him-it's kind of sad, like Romeo and Juliet.  Mr. Collins didn't like it, of course-she was a servant.  After he was killed, she had to leave Collinwood."</div> <div>      "Why?"</div> <div> "She was going to have a baby."  Ellen gave her a very meaningful look.</div> <div> "Oh!"  Maggie gulped.  "Like Mr. Collins' daughter?"</div> <div> "Yes, except she never got married because he died.  And he wouldn't keep her there-she wasn't a relative, you see.  But then he wanted to find his grandson.  He asked my father to help him, too.  And they found her and her sons.  They brought them back here."</div> <div> Maggie walked home slowly, thinking about the boy and wondering how he felt about everything.  She wondered if he ever felt as confused about everything as she did.  She wondered what he and Jennifer talked about.  "Where have you been?" her mother asked as she came in the kitchen door.  Her mother looked ashy pale.</div> <div> "I was just at a friend's house, Mama," Maggie answered, thinking, oh, no, she's having another spell.</div> <div> "You know I worry about you, Maggie!  You should have told me!  I thought you were dead, crushed under the wheels of a car!"</div> <div> "I'm sorry, Mama.  I'm okay, see?"</div> <div> "Or you might have been kidnapped by one of those nasty men who do dirty things to little girls!"</div> <div> "I'm sorry I made you worry!"  Maggie was truly distressed.  When Mama got like this, she would fret and worry for hours.  "Can I make you some tea?"</div> <div> "Yes, that would be nice dear.  And your father!  He's not home yet, either," her mother continued fretfully, beginning to wring her hands.  "What if he's gotten himself drunk and passed out somewhere?  What if his head hit the table and he's lying on the floor of the Blue Whale, bleeding to death?"</div> <div> "As soon as I make your tea, I'll go and check for you, Mama," Maggie assured her.  She watched her mother worriedly, as she continued to rock and wring her hands.  She wished Jennifer was with her, even if she wasn't much help-it was better than being here alone.  She knew she'd find her father at the Blue Whale, drunk.  Even if she managed to convince him to come home with her, there would only be another fight.  She bit her lip, thinking.  Maybe she could just go out for a walk and then come back and tell Mama she'd seen Pop and he was fine.  She decided that's what she would do.</div> <div> She went out through the kitchen door, leaving her mother sipping tea and staring straight ahead of herself.  I wonder why she worries so much, Maggie wondered.  She started to cut through the back yard past the garage to head toward the Blue Whale.  She thought she heard a noise-something kicked over in the garage.  </div> <div> Puzzled, she went to the garage and peeked in the window.  Shocked, she realized she'd found Jennifer.  She'd been sitting on their father's sawhorse and apparently it had fallen over.  She was with Quentin, and he helped her set the sawhorse back on its feet.  Once that was done, Maggie saw the boy put his arms around his sister.  They were kissing.  She moved away from the window quickly, feeling a mixture of disgust and jealousy.  Ick! She thought.  At the same time, she was horrified to realize she wondered what it felt like.  She began to run, as if by running she could escape everything.</div> <div> She remembered one other day from that awful, wonderful year.  She wrote a story for her English class, a childish story about a talking cat that went on adventures with her "pets" (a brother and a sister).  She read the story in a tremulous voice to the rest of the class.  She hadn't really wanted to, but the teacher insisted.  As the class broke into gales of laughter, the teacher reprimanded them sharply.  Maggie's eyes filled with hot tears.  Ellen leaned over and whispered, "It's really very good, Maggie."</div> <div> Talking cats!  What had she been thinking of?  Her classmates followed her down the hallway, jeering and meowing at her.  In the main hallway, some of the eighth graders joined in.  The hallway seemed to echo with the sounds of high and low pitched meows.  Maggie kept her eyes on the ground, walking as quickly as she could toward her next class.  Suddenly, she bumped into someone.  Her books spilled all over the floor.  She knelt down to pick them up.</div> <div> "You are such a baby!" she heard her sister say in embarrassed contempt.  "Why didn't you look where you were going?"  She was too humiliated to look up, her face hot and flushed as the meowing behind her continued.  Then there was someone beside her, helping her pick up the books.  She wanted to die.  It was Quentin!</div> <div> "Here you go," Quentin said to her softly, putting the rest of the books in her arms.  She raised her head a little, meeting his eyes just momentarily.  They were so open and friendly-she couldn't stand to look at him.  He stood up and said in a clear voice, "What the hell do you jerks think you're doing?"  She realized that everyone was moving off quickly.  She couldn't believe he'd stood up for her like that.</div> <div> Her sister was squatting down beside her.  "Get up, get up and get going, you little fool!" Jennifer hissed in her ear.  Then she stood up, and she heard her sister exclaim:  "Let's go, she's fine!"  As Quentin and Jennifer moved around her, Maggie stood up slowly.  She kept her eyes to the floor and went to her next class.</div> <div> She would see Quentin occasionally in the halls with her sister.  She knew her sister was going out with him and other friends on the weekends.  She wondered if her sister was doing the things she'd read about in Ellen's book.  She still couldn't understand how such a thing was possible. The next year, Maggie moved up to eighth grade and Jennifer went to high school.  She stopped talking about Quentin, and he didn't seem to be around anymore.  Finally Maggie worked up the courage to ask Jennifer what happened to him.  Her sister had been so despondent since the school year began.</div> <div> "He's gone-gone for good," was all Jennifer would say.</div> <bR> <div> And now he's back, Maggie thought incredulously.  Finally satisfied with the way she looked in the mirror, she got her coat and went to the car.  She was on her way to the sanitarium to visit Mama. She'd been visiting faithfully sometimes up to three times a week since Mama had been committed.  She'd just fallen apart after the boating accident in which Pop had drowned.  </div> <div> Mama blamed Jamison Collins, but Maggie knew it hadn't been the old man's fault.  Pop had been drunk-he shouldn't have taken Mr. Collins out at all.  The coroner told them that there was enough alcohol in Pop's blood to pickle a whole side of beef into sauerbraten.   No one had been able to get the exact details from old Mr. Collins, who'd been found clinging to the hull of the boat.  He was half frozen and half out of his mind.  The only thing he could tell them was that Pop had kept him from drowning, but that he was unable to do the same thing in return.  He'd tried to talk to Pop and keep him awake but Pop just seemed to pass out.  Mr. Collins wasn't strong enough to hold on to him.</div> <div> Jennifer signed the commitment papers without question.  She was 21 years old and had gotten what was called "power of attorney."  "I'm not letting this ruin my life, Maggie," she'd told her sister.  "If you were smart, you'd get out of this miserable town."  She'd never come back-not once-in the years since Mama had been committed.  It was Maggie who would come to visit her mother faithfully, brushing the tangles out of her hair and taking her for walks on her good days.</div> <div> Maggie knew not to talk about the Collins family; it would only upset her mother.  She talked brightly of other things, old friends and neighbors.  Her mother had been a patient at the sanitarium (and it seemed more and more likely a permanent one) for almost five years when Jennifer got married.  Maggie went to New York for the wedding and came back to tell her mother about it.  Her mother didn't recognize her and was interested in the story but didn't seem to know who Jennifer was either.</div> <div> It was just before this most recent Thanksgiving that Maggie visited her mother with news of the birth of her grandchild.  Her mother looked at her blankly, not answering.  Maggie had felt very depressed that day, barely noticing the new caretaker who called hello to her.  He seemed to be a nice young man, although he must have been in a terrible accident.  He was huge, well over six feet.  He had several disfiguring facial scars but was a very gentle man.</div> <div> Not long after that visit, she was astonished when an old high school classmate of hers had called and invited her to Thanksgiving dinner.  She and Roxanne Drew had been on friendly terms but weren't close friends.  She had no where else to go except to her sister's, and Jennifer was very preoccupied and cross since the birth of her baby.  She'd gratefully accepted the invitation, not wanting to be alone for the holiday.  She had never dreamed she'd meet Quentin Collins again, especially not at Roxanne's little house.</div> <div> She'd never dreamed that Quentin would want to drive her home that night, or that he would call and ask her to go to the movies with him.  <I>It must be because he wants to know about Jennifer,</I> she thought.  He'd remembered her sister very well obviously.  The funny thing was, he didn't ask her anything more than perfunctory questions about her sister.  She couldn't imagine why Quentin would want to go out with her.  It was truly a wondrous thing, Maggie thought, pulling into the driveway at the sanitarium.</div> <div> She waved to Adam as she got out of the car.  He would be returning to New York with Roxanne and Dr. Longworth, Quentin's best friend, after the New Year for surgery to remove some of those scars.  This was the first time she'd seen Adam since returning from their marvelous trip to New York City.  She realized how much she really did like Adam-he was a wonderful man, a truly gentle and kind spirit.  If not for Quentin, she would be jealous of Roxanne.   </div> <div> Maggie's mother was in the recreation room, seated in a wheelchair, her wrists restrained to the handles.  Maggie's jaw tightened.  She hated it when the attendants restrained her mother like that; they claimed it was necessary so that she didn't hurt herself or others.  "Mama," she said softly, bending to kiss her mother on the cheek.</div> <div> "Maggie," her mother whispered back.  "Help me, please."  Maggie quickly knelt by her mother's chair, loosening the restraints.  This was one of Mama's `good' days-and the attendants never knew the difference.  "Thank you, love."</div> <div> "How are you, Mama?  I've come to wish you a Happy New Year," Maggie said, putting her arms around her mother's neck and hugging her.</div> <div> "Is it New Year's already?  I thought it was Christmas Day," her mother said in a complaining tone.</div> <div> "It's New Year's Eve."  Maggie's heart was full of sorrow.  She'd visited her mother the day after Christmas, just as soon as she, Quentin, and his son Daniel had returned from their visit to Jennifer's house in New York.  Obviously, Mama didn't remember.  "Shall I brush your hair, Mama?"</div> <div> "It needs to be washed, honey.  Do you think you could wash it for me?"</div> <div> "Yes, Mama, of course."  As Maggie wheeled her mother out of the rec room and down the hall to her room, she chatted brightly about her trip to New York.  She told her mother again about skating at Rockefeller Center and seeing the Rockettes at Radio City Music Hall.  These were things she'd already told Mama; the only thing she was leaving out was Quentin's last name.  She couldn't tell Mama, she just couldn't!</div> <div> As she washed her mother's hair, she spoke brightly about the plans she'd made for this evening.  "You're in love with Quentin, aren't you?" her mother asked as Maggie towel dried her hair.  Maggie froze for a moment stunned, realizing that her mother was right.  "Don't be afraid, Maggie," her mother said.  "Love is a miraculous thing."  <I>But how can I tell you who Quentin really is?</I> Maggie thought, dismayed.  Slowly, she brushed all the tangles out of Mama's damp hair.  She continued to talk gaily, but her mind was miles away-in New York.</div> <bR> <div> Quentin had taken her out for a drink and some dancing.  His friend Cyrus was watching Daniel; Maggie knew that the little boy resented her and didn't know what to do about it.  He was so little, and his mother had been dead only a short time.  Perhaps that was why Quentin seemed to enjoy her company-he must miss Angelique terribly and needed someone to talk to. </div> <div>  Maggie still found it very hard to look into his eyes.  Whenever she did, she felt a warm glow begin low down in her abdomen.  Her face would become suffused with warm blood.  Whenever he looked back at her, she felt as though he was looking right into her heart.  His expression would change; she could see warmth in his eyes and his face would flush, too.  At that moment, she had to break her gaze.  Her whole body felt like it was on fire; it was an exhilarating and frightening feeling for her.  They would continue to talk.  He would take her hand in his, and she would look at their hands twined together.  She could hear every word he was saying to her; she could hear herself answering him.  At the same time, she was thinking about how his lips would taste and how it would feel to have him touch her.</div> <div>      They had a couple of drinks and danced together twice.  The first time, he'd looked down at her, and she thought she would swoon.  She moved closer to him, too embarrassed to tell him that she felt dizzy and faint.  She felt as breathless then as she had when she tried to look into his eyes at the table.  After the second dance, he'd taken her back to her room.  She fumbled in her purse for her key, wondering if Sabrina was still up.  "Wait a minute," he said to her softly, turning her so that she faced him again.  Their eyes met again, and she could see desire there.  She knew he was going to kiss her, and she wanted him to.</div> <div>      He tasted of the drinks they'd had, and wondered for a moment how he liked the taste of coconuts.  Then she was drawn in toward him, feeling as if she was melting away.  The hall seemed to spin a little.  Finally, he took the key from her gently and straightened up.  They looked at each other wordlessly for what seemed like a long time.  Then he said softly, "Here, let me help you."  He put the key in the lock for her and turned it.  He stepped back so that she could go in.</div> <div> "Goodnight," he began.</div> <div>      She realized that Sabrina wasn't there.  "Wait!" she exclaimed.  She went into the room and looked around.  Sabrina must've joined Cyrus; perhaps they were watching television together.  She looked back at Quentin.  "Would you like to come in for a minute?"</div> <div>      "Well-" Quentin began hesitantly.  Then he nodded, shutting and locking the door behind him.  He walked toward her and they embraced, kissing again.  This time, Quentin moved her toward the bed and she didn't resist him.</div> <div> Part of her was terrified, knowing that he was acting out of need and loneliness.  Another part of her had been set on fire with her own need for him.  She felt his hands moving on her.  Now they were lying down on the bed, facing each other.</div> <div> His hands were lifting her blouse, caressing her breasts.  She felt herself burning for him, and she began to fumble with his belt.</div> <div>      Frustrated, she realized she was unable to unbuckle it, even as he'd begun removing her blouse and bra.  She wanted to cry out with passion and fear-fear because he would find out she didn't know anything…"Quentin," she whispered to him.  She wanted to warn him.  "I'm sorry, I don't know how to do this."</div> <div>      He stopped and looked at her, chuckling softly.  He put his hands over hers.  "What, this?  Even I have trouble sometimes."  He'd begun working with the belt but began kissing her throat.</div> <div>      "Oh, good," she whispered with relief.  She stroked his hair.  "Do you like that, Quentin?  You'll tell me what it is you like, won't you?"</div> <div>      He raised his head and looked at her, this time with surprise.  "Maggie-when you said you don't know how to do this, did you mean you've never done this?"     She turned bright red.  He would laugh at her now, she was sure.  Her eyes filled with tears.  He didn't laugh, though.       "Maggie?"  He stroked the side of her face gently.  "You haven't ever made love, have you?"</div> <div>      Finally, she whispered, "No."  He sucked his breath in sharply, his eyes widening.  He began to sit up.  "Quentin!  But I want to-with you."</div> <div>      "Christ, Maggie, I want to, too," he muttered.  "You don't know how much I want to."</div> <div>      "Yes, I do, because I want you to!"  Maggie began to cry softly, feeling that she'd ruined everything.  </div> <div>      Quentin turned back to her, leaning over her to kiss her again.  She clung to him, drawing to draw him back down.  He pulled back gently.  "No, we need to do this the right way, Maggie."  She looked at him, confused.  "It needs to be special, just you and me-and not in a place where we might have someone walking in on us," he explained.</div> <div>      She felt disappointed and elated at the same time.  "Oh, Quentin, I'm so sorry."</div> <div>      "Sorry?  What for?"</div> <div>      "Because I'm so…ignorant!"</div> <div>      "Maggie-" He stopped.  He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it softly.  "Don't you understand?  There's nothing to be sorry about.  You're special, Maggie, don't you know that?"</div> <div>      "I don't feel very special right now.  I feel-silly!"</div> <div>      "Well, you shouldn't," he declared, and she knew then that she loved him.  "Maggie, you're beautiful and you're special and what happens between us should be that way, too.  I don't want it to be something we hurry up and do because we're both hot and because we're afraid Sabrina might walk in on us.  There'll be a right time and a right place for us, don't worry."</div> <div>      She looked into his eyes and realized he meant it.  He kissed her again and then began trying to arrange her clothes.  They both began laughing as he fumbled with her things.  "I'd better," she said softly, pulling her bra down and beginning to fasten her blouse.  He was right, she realized, but there was an unfulfilled burning deep down inside her body.  He sat up on the bed next to her, smiling sheepishly.  She glanced down briefly and was fascinated to see the bulge between his legs.  She wondered what he looked like, the warm sensation she was feeling becoming a little hotter.</div> <div>      "I think I should go back," he said softly, with a hint of regret in his voice.  He seemed reluctant to go.  "Maggie, I-" he began and then stopped.  He leaned over to kiss her again.  "I really care about you, you know that?"</div> <div>      She wondered how-he'd just lost his wife.  He must be lonely, that must be it.  "I've always cared out you, Quentin."  The words were out before she knew it, and her eyes widened.  He looked surprised, too, and then delighted.  He smiled broadly.  She began to smile back.  Then she remembered something.  "Daniel doesn't like me."</div> <div>      "Not yet.  He misses his mother."  Quentin replied, a little flatly.</div> <div>      <I>Do you?</I>  <I>Do you miss Angelique, too?</I>  "He's so young, it's understandable," she said.  "How old is he, Quentin?"</div> <div>      "Almost nine."  Quentin had a very troubled look on his face now.  She knew he had married very young, while Pop was still alive.  She remembered Pop telling Mama how old Mr. Collins had carried on fearfully because Quentin had "knocked-up" Tim Stokes' girl-his brother's girlfriend.  "Can I tell you something?  A secret?"</div> <div>      "Yes, of course.  What's wrong?"</div> <div>      He was quiet for a long time.  Finally, he sighed and said, "I don't know if I can, Maggie.  I want to tell someone so bad, but it hurts so much-" His voice seemed to break, and he stopped talking.  Alarmed, Maggie realized he was fighting back tears.  She put her arms around him to comfort him.  "I loved my brother," he said finally, in a tearing whisper.  "Angelique was his girl, did you know that?"  Maggie nodded.  "I didn't betray him," Quentin went on.  "It was just that she-" He stopped again.  There was a rustling sound at the door.  </div> <div>      Quentin was up immediately, wiping his eyes.  Maggie got up, too.  Just as the door opened, he turned impulsively and pulled her too him, kissing her hard.  "Oh!" Sabrina exclaimed.  "Excuse me, I'm so sorry!"</div> <div>      "No, it's all right," Quentin said.  "I was just going."  He kissed Maggie again, gently this time.  "Good night, Maggie.  I'll see you in the morning."</div> <div>      "Good night," Maggie said faintly, wondering what it was Quentin had been about to tell her.  Sabrina cleared her throat, and Maggie realized how foolish she must look.  She looked at the other woman, who was smiling gently at her.</div> <div>      "You're good for him, Maggie," Sabrina said.  "You're just what he needs.  If only I was just what Cyrus needed."  She sat down on her bed and slowly kicked her shoes off.</div> <div>      Maggie sat down, realizing her new friend needed to talk.  It was all right.  She'd always been a good listener.</div> <bR> <div>      Now, on New Year's Eve, Maggie carefully braided her mother's long hair.  It was much easier to braid the hair than to leave it loose.  Even though her mother's hair was still thick and beautiful, if it was loose around her shoulders it tended to snarl and knot-the attendants here never gave her hair all the attention it needed.  Her mother didn't seem to care anymore.  "Are you seeing your Quentin tonight, dear?" her mother asked.</div> <div>      Maggie smiled.  "Yes, as a matter of fact, I am.  We're going with Dr. Longworth and his fiancée into Bangor-we're going dancing."</div> <div>      "I hope Quentin doesn't drive drunk, like your father did," her mother said fretfully.</div> <div>      "No, he won't, Mama," Maggie said hastily, worried her mother would plunge into another catatonic funk.  That happened frequently when Pop's name came up.  Already, Maggie could see her mother's eyes reflecting back dully in the mirror.  "I still feel a little silly when I dance," she went on, hoping to distract Mama.  "Have you seen the way people dance now on `American Bandstand', mama?"  Her mother didn't answer.  "You know, that's the show with Dick Clark," Maggie added encouragingly.  When Mama still didn't answer, Maggie looked into the mirror and saw the familiar blank, slack expression gazing at nothing.  She patted her mother's shoulder and leaned over to kiss her.  "I'll take you back to the rec room now, Mama.  Maybe we can find it on the television."</div> <div>      She bit her lip and began to push the wheelchair toward the door, back down the hall, and back to the rec room.</div> <bR> <div>      Maggie was glad to see that Cyrus had invited Adam and Roxanne to join them.  The large room was dimly lit; the scars on Adam's face were not visible at all here.  Maggie realized he would be a very good looking man after the surgery.  He tugged at his color uncomfortably, and Maggie realized that he was really a tee-shirt-and-blue-jeans man in spite of the fact that he looked well turned out in a suit.  Everytime he and Roxanne looked at each other, Maggie could see how much they loved each other.  It couldn't have happened to two nicer people, she thought.</div> <div>      She was surprised that there was a big orchestra tuning up to play.  She turned to Quentin and exclaimed, "Oh, I thought this was going to be a rock and roll band!"</div> <div>      "I hope you don't mind," Quentin said.  "One of the things Cy and I learned at school that we didn't appreciate at the time was ballroom dancing.  We thought this would be more romantic." He looked at her a little doubtfully.  "Unless you'd rather-"</div> <div>      "Oh, no!" She exclaimed.  "I was just telling my mother that I didn't feel comfortable with that kind of dancing."  She wasn't sure how well she'd do at ballroom dancing, but it had to be less awkward than wriggling and jumping around the floor.  In fact, she found that Quentin was right-it was a much more romantic way to dance.  She allowed herself to relax in his arms and let him lead her around the floor.  She felt safe and secure with him, very much the same way she'd felt ice-skating with him at Rockefeller Center.  </div> <div>      In between dancing they drank champagne.  Cyrus and Quentin ordered boiled lobsters for everyone.  Cyrus urged everyone to keep nibbling at the appetizers.  "This way we won't get drunk," he explained.</div> <div>      Sabrina looked at him and said teasingly, "But I want to."  He gave her an odd look but didn't say anything.  </div> <div>      Once when the three of them went into the ladies' room, Roxanne asked her, "How do you feel about Quentin?"</div> <div>      Maggie blushed.  "Oh, I don't know-I mean I like him."</div> <div>      Roxanne laughed.  "I can tell you do.  He likes you, too-a lot.  You'd be good for him, Maggie."</div> <div>      "Oh, I don't know-he's just lost his wife-"</div> <div>      Roxanne caught her wrist gently.  "Trust me.  You'd be good for him.  Do you <I>really</I> like him?  You do, don't you?"</div> <div>      Maggie felt her face become hotter.  "I really do!  You like Adam, too, don't you?"</div> <div>      "Adam is the best thing that ever happened to me," Roxanne answered.  Sabrina fixed her hair quietly, not saying anything.  "Sabrina, when are you and Cyrus going to get married?"</div> <div>      Sabrina laughed and shrugged.  She tried to sound as if it was all a joke to her, but Maggie heard pain behind the laughter.  She saw that Roxanne's smile had disappeared.  "Oh, I don't know.  With Cyrus, who can tell?  He'd probably forget to show up anyway."  Suddenly she put her hands over her face, stifling a sob.</div> <div>      "Oh, Sabrina, I'm sorry!" Roxanne moved swiftly to put her arm around Sabrina.  "Did you have a fight?"  As soon as Roxanne touched Sabrina, her eyes widened as if she'd been shocked.  "Oh!" She exclaimed.</div> <div>      Maggie looked at Roxanne's face, puzzled.  She'd become suddenly pale.</div> <div> "Roxanne?"</div> <div>      "I'm all right," Roxanne said faintly.  "Sabrina-"</div> <div>      "Please, I've just had too much to drink, that's all!" Sabrina moved away from Roxanne, reaching into her purse for a tissue.  Maggie looked at Roxanne, puzzled, wondering what was really going on.  Sabrina pulled herself back together again and made her face up carefully.  </div> <div> Roxanne had been scribbling on a scrap of paper and pressed it into Sabrina's hand.   "It's my phone number," Roxanne explained shyly.  She was scribbling on another piece of scrap paper from her purse.  She gave this scrap to Maggie.  "You can call me sometimes if you want to talk."</div> <div> "Thank you," Sabrina said, a little stiffly.  They walked back out to rejoin their dates.  </div> <div> Maggie tugged on Roxanne's elbow a little and whispered into her ear.  "What happened, Roxanne?"</div> <div> Roxanne turned and whispered back, "Sometimes I have feelings about people-like I have a feeling about you being good for Quentin.  I don't think it's going to work for Cyrus and Sabrina."</div> <div> "Oh!" Maggie exclaimed.  That really wasn't so surprising, though.  For an engaged couple, Cyrus and Sabrina behaved very formally toward each other.  They hardly ever kissed or held hands, whereas Quentin was very affectionate with her.  It was too bad.  She genuinely liked Cyrus, but he seemed so shy and retiring.  If Sabrina left him, Maggie wasn't sure how he'd attract another woman.  In fact, she wondered how he'd attracted Sabrina.</div> <div> "What are you thinking about?" Quentin whispered into her ear.  "It's not about me."</div> <div> Maggie looked into those startling blue eyes.  She smiled.  "You don't think so?"</div> <div> "No, you weren't.  Now you are, though," He said, smiling back.  He took her hand and put it to his cheek, rubbing it back and forth.  "So soft."  She felt breathless, as if his eyes were really two pools and she'd fallen into them.  She was hardly aware that the band had begun to play again.  "Let's dance, shall we?"  Again she found herself gliding across the floor with him.  She felt drunk, even though she knew she wasn't.</div> <div> Suddenly, it was almost midnight.  She held Quentin's hand tightly.  On her other side, Adam was holding her hand gently as if he was afraid to crush her bones.  Adam held Roxanne's hand in his other hand.  Maggie could see that Quentin had Sabrina's hand; she couldn't tell if Cyrus was participating.  She had a sad image in her mind of him standing next to Sabrina with both hands shoved into his pockets.  Everyone was counting down from sixty, the last minute of the old year.  Maggie realized that the turbulent sixties was coming to an end-what would 1970 bring?</div> <div> "Happy New Year!" the bandleader cried.  Someone blew a horn.  Balloons were rising into the air.  Quentin grabbed Maggie and kissed her even as the band began to play "Auld Lang Syne."  She would have been happy to have that kiss go on and on and was surprised to find herself back at the table with everyone.  It was over-it was 1970, and she didn't remember singing any part of the song.</div> <div> "We must have something to eat," Cyrus was saying.</div> <div> "Herring," Maggie blurted.</div> <div> Everyone looked at her.  "Herring?" Adam asked doubtfully.  "Why herring?"</div> <div> "Pop always said if your first meal of the New Year was herring, you'd have good luck," Maggie replied and then she laughed, realizing she was tipsy and probably sounded crazy.</div> <div> "Herring it is," Quentin declared and signaled to the waiter.</div> <bR> <div> It was almost three when everyone decided they'd had enough.  They'd prudently rented rooms in the hotel, knowing they would probably not want to drive back to Collinwood.  Adam and Roxanne excused themselves shyly, wishing everyone a happy New Year.  Sabrina whispered into Cyrus' ear.  His eyes widened, and he gave Maggie a startled, reproachful look.  Puzzled, Maggie started to ask what was wrong when he got up abruptly, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a key.  "Here," he said to Quentin.</div> <div> "What's this?"</div> <div> "Why, the key to the room of course," Cyrus answered irritably.</div> <div> "But-" Quentin sounded confused.</div> <div> Sabrina had already gotten up and was pulling at Cyrus.  "Happy New Year, you two," she said sweetly.</div> <div> "Yes, Happy New Year," Cyrus echoed, allowing himself to be pulled away reluctantly.</div> <div> Maggie watched them go with mixed feelings.  She was excited but she was also nervous about going to bed with Quentin.  It was going to happen tonight, she felt it, she wanted it…it was just that she felt so stupid and inexperienced.  She noticed that Quentin was blushing and wondered if he felt embarrassed, too.  She put her hand on his, and he looked at her.  Those startling blue eyes…she decided she would take things into her own hands for a change.  "Quentin, can we go now?  I want to be with you."  </div> <div> Speechlessly, he nodded.  He got up and then gallantly held her chair so that she could get up.  He gave her his elbow, and they walked from the room to the elevator, not speaking.  She couldn't think of the right thing to say and was mentally kicking herself even as he was opening the door to her room.  She went through ten or twenty different sentences and decided that each one sounded ridiculous or stupid.  She was in his arms, kissing him, opening her mouth to allow him to explore her.</div> <div> They were lying back on the bed, and he was moving over her, running his hands through her long hair, spreading it all out on the pillow.  He leaned over her on one elbow, stroking her hair.  "Maggie, can I ask you something?" he asked softly.  She nodded, unable to speak.  "How did someone as beautiful as you make it all the way through the Age of Aquarius without having some man make love to you?"</div> <div> Maggie felt herself blushing again.  How could she tell him that no one else had called her beautiful?  How could she tell him that when she'd gone on the few dates she'd had, she'd been so terrified she nearly bolted at the end of the evening?  That no one had made her feel this way before?  "I-" she began and stopped.  She didn't want to sound foolish or childish.  "It never felt right until now," she finally answered.  It was the truth, even if only a part of it.</div> <div> "It feels right with me?"  </div> <div> "Yes," she whispered shyly, hoping he wouldn't laugh at her.  She was surprised at the intensity of feeling she saw in those eyes she'd grown to love so much.</div> <div> "You love me, Maggie?  Do you?"  It seemed to be important to him, but again she found herself unable to speak.  She could only nod.  "You said you loved me since seventh grade?"  Again she nodded.  "Would you think it was corny if I told you that I think I loved you that day when you dropped your books?"</div> <div> She reacted with surprise.  She didn't think he'd remember something so insignificant.  That was so long ago, and she'd been a gawky, ungainly child.  "But-" she protested.  "Angelique-your wife-she was so beautiful.  And I-I mean, don't you miss her?"</div> <div> "I haven't missed her for a long time," he said in a strange, oddly strangled voice.  </div> <div> She wondered if he was telling her the truth.  Could it be possible that he loved her, too?  She reached for him, wanting him to love her.  Why was he hesitating?  Why was he looking at her so strangely?  She put her hand on the back of his neck, urging him toward her.</div> <div> "Maggie," he said softly,  "if you could wait this long for me, do you think you could bear to wait a little longer?"</div> <div> "I don't understand-don't you want to?"</div> <div> "Oh, God, yes, Maggie, I do!"  He took her hand and moved it down the length of his body, placing it between his legs.  </div> <div> She could feel how hard and swollen he was.  Oh, my!  She thought, remembering again how it was to happen and wondering how on earth she'd be able to do it.  She felt very ignorant and awkward, but she knew she wanted him.  "I want to, too, Quentin."</div> <div> "I know," he answered hoarsely.  "Maggie, this would be something special for both of us.  Do you know that I have had very little in my whole damn life that's been any good?  I want this, Maggie, more than you realize but-I want it to be really special."</div> <div> How could it be any more special than now?  She wondered.  We're alone-there's no one to bother us.  She realized that he was talking again.  "I-I'm sorry, what?" she asked, feeling disappointed.  They weren't going to make love-not even on New Year's night.</div> <div> "I said, would you marry me, Maggie?"</div> <div> She couldn't believe her ears.  "Marry you?" she asked, astonished.  "You want to marry-me?"</div> <div> Now he did laugh at her.  "Yes, I want to marry you, Maggie Evans.  Would you?  Do you want to, I mean.  Do you want to marry me?"</div> <div> "I do," she whispered, still unable to believe it.</div> <div> "When?" he asked.  When?  She still couldn't believe he was even asking her.  She tried to speak but was unable to.  "Maggie?  I want to wait until we're married so that I can have one precious, special thing in my life-do you understand?"  </div> <div> She did understand-she just couldn't believe that he felt that way about her.  "I understand, but-" She was unable to continue.  Hadn't he felt that way about his marriage to Angelique?  Hadn't he felt that way about Daniel's birth? Didn't he think these were precious, special things?  She was afraid to finish her question-it was incomprehensible to think that he wouldn't have felt that these events were wonderful, but…</div> <div> "This spring, Maggie?  I don't think I can wait much longer than that," he was saying, stroking her face gently with his long, graceful fingers.  He was outlining her lip with his forefinger now.  "Around Easter, maybe?  We could go away for a long honeymoon-anywhere you'd like."</div> <div> "Oh, I'd like that-to the islands, maybe?  A cruise?"</div> <div> "The Bahamas-Bermuda-St. Maarten-the Virgin Islands-"</div> <div> "Is the water really that clear?"</div> <div> "I don't know.  I've never been."</div> <div> "Have you been to Europe?  I've never been there."</div> <div> "It doesn't matter if I have-we can go there if you want to."  </div> <div> Maggie began giggling.  Quentin raised his brows at her as if to ask what she was laughing at.  "I'd like to see Mickey Mouse at Disney World!"</div> <div> He started laughing, too.  "I've never seen Mickey Mouse."</div> <div> "Let's see Mickey Mouse!"</div> <div> "Whatever you want, Maggie. When?  In the spring?"</div> <div> "All right-in the spring, Quentin."</div> <div> "Maggie!"  He began covering her face and throat with kisses until she began giggling again.  </div> <div> She stopped laughing when he looked at her intently, his eyes full of love for her, and began outlining her brows, her nose, and her lips with his finger again.  "What do we do now?" she asked, finally, hopefully.</div> <div> "Go to sleep?" he suggested.  They both burst out laughing at the same time.  "The Puritans did this-do you remember from history class?"</div> <div> "I think they put a wooden board between them, Quentin.  We don't have a board.  And sometimes the woman still got pregnant."  She frowned, puzzled.  Obviously the Puritans hadn't been so pure.  She looked at Quentin again.   </div> <div> "You'll have our babies-yours and mine," he said dreamily, rolling onto his back.  He pulled her so that she lay next to him, her head on his shoulder.  "They'll be beautiful-like you."</div> <div> "And have blue eyes-like yours," Maggie added.  She felt him take his hand in hers, twining his fingers through hers.  She relaxed.  She hadn't felt this safe and secure since she was a little girl and Pop used to take her and Jennifer away-from Mama.  She felt a little worrisome thought tug at her--something about Mama-but she pushed that thought away.  Tonight she was safe and loved, and that was all that mattered.   She turned her head slightly toward Quentin and saw that his eyes were closed.  His lips curled upward in a slight smile.  Tenderly, she kissed the side of his mouth and then rested her head on his shoulder again.  At peace at last, she drifted off to sleep.</div> <bR> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> <A HREF="id92.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Christmas Magick"><U>Christmas Magick</U></A>    <A HREF="id94.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Winters Deep Freeze"><U>Winter's Deep Freeze</U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id85.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Adam in Parallel Time"><U>Adam in Parallel Time</U></A>     <A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Cassies Writing"><U>Cassie's Writing</U></A></div> </td> </tr></table></body>