OZone 09 : Foot Traffic

"Only the Topasi who had known of the Cradle of life prior to their migration to Florida. When the Spanish embarked on their historical quest for the Fountain of Youth their lies kept them from the findings. As Cortez sailed back to Spain only Francisco stayed behind. All for the respect and love of my Greater Grandmother "Noranina". If not for her Father, My Greater still Grandfather, "Montegranaga" loosely translated ,"Upwind of Destiny" in Topasi dialect, Francisco would have been slain. Adopting him into their tribe he was eventually trusted and granted a greater knowledge. The future Guardian of the Baby."

Dhorne narrows his eyes, "If he was the Guardian then why did ole Franco move on to Colorado? Shouldn't He have stayed put here?"

Gus puckers, "You yourself know well the way of the Warrior. Francisco was first and foremost a Soldier. At the cusp of his soul. It took the love of Noranina to still his nomadic ways. After she died there was a vacant soul within him. Leaving their children behind to be raised by the Topasi elders he left to reclaim his soul. Written down by the Topasi wisemen Francisco set out to find yet another treasure. One that the Topasi had heard it's call on the wind. The remainder of his life goes untold. Until now. By next week I hope to know the truth."

A raised glass of very little wine left he proposes a toast, "To the remaining days of our lives."

Joe and Dhorne had no wine glasses looking to each other before both reading the others minds. They in unison lifted a hand tilting their optical glasses at the bridges of their nose.

"Cheers around the ears." Dhorne chuckled, "You sure you don't need me to come along, Gus?"

The elder man shakes his head, "As much as I would rejoice in your companionship, Son. Your place is here with Connor. Babs and I can take care of this. My associate "Gilbert Lokai" also an ancestor of the Topasi, whose family had merged with the Choctaw, has searched high and low across North America for signs of Francisco's journey slash journal. He is trusted. We have been friends since childhood. Our secret society is quite iconic. He will have the necessary precautions set into place."

Dhorne gets a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach, "Gilbert know the language like you do?"

Gus shakes his head, "I'm afraid the language dies with me. That is unless you care to learn it. Joseph here knows only key words which I have allowed him to be privilege to."

Oz makes a ticking sound at the corner of his lips, "Risky business. Ight. Call me if you need me."

In turn Gus offers his arms extension for a much needed hug. Dhorne met him halfway. Such respect. Nobility seething from their veins.

As their embrace subsides Gus looks his Son-in-law in the eye, "Go relax. Tomorrow will be taxing on all of Us."

Oz nodded just as the screen door opened revealing Nina LeGend, "I hope I'm not intruding?"

Gus turns with a smile, "Of course not Dear. We were just discussing the contents of Nora's time capsule that Garrison shared with us."

She grins lovingly, "I need a hug too."

She opens her arms to let Gus in, who with a certain hesitation to react forces a smirk to form across Dhorne's lips. Gus bites the bullet and hugs his daughter with charm and finesse. "Give us a moment more my beautiful daughter. Tell Trinity we are almost ready for dessert. Strawberry shortcake sounds divine."

She fidgets, "As long as she keeps the whip creme away from me."

Dhorne wanted to burst into laughter. Joseph also. Nina senses an inside joke yet ignores their demeanor reaching up to swirl her fingers in the chain of pearls belonging to her sister Nora.

She starts to turn away, "Oh Garrison, your consumption delivery has arrived. We had to force Trinity's fingers from the bottle of Jack Daniels."

Oz chuckles, "Damn Irish Banshee."

Again, twirling her pearls she smiles at them, "I just love these pearls. You have such good taste, Gary."

As she leaves Oz murmurs under his breath, "You'll never know."

Once inside all three men share a despicable arrangement of laughter. One that Gus feels guilty in taking part in. "If she knew the truth behind those pearls, Garrison, my daughter would be committed."

Joseph nods, "Indeed. As you might say, Garrison. Those pearls put the SIRE in deSIRE."

Dhorne wrinkles his nose slapping Joe's shoulder, "Good one. Y'all are learnin'. I'm gonna go gather my wet bar and soak up me some Noraville. If'n y'all will excuse me."

Each of them say their goodnight cordially with firm hand shakes. Parting to watch Dhorne step inside the two elders pucker. Joseph lowers his head almost shamefully, "Do you think Garrison will ever let Nina in on those pearls?"

Gus raises an eyebrow, "And, tell her that each of those pearls are injected with the MASTER's seaman? That would push her off the bridge. Hardly."

Inside Oz managed to walk in on the ladies of the Kitchen preparing the strawberries when he see's Nina turn to open the fridge, "What did you do with the can of cool whip?"

A loud cackle comes from upstairs startling all of them. Nina looks between Babs and Gina for answers. Then, it dawns on her, "My Mink!"

With a shrill screech she shoves Dhorne out of the way bolting up the stairwell in the other room. Oz scratches his forehead, "Any bets on who walks down with a black eye all raccoon style?"

Babs presses her lips together in a shameful smile then slides a cooler of beer across the floor, "Take this away before my daughter drowns her sorrows."

Oz winked, "Have a good night, Ladies."

A peck on each of their cheeks He gathers his liquid respect and turns away. Across the yard he went whistling dixie. At the bottom of the hill he took his boots off lacing them together before dangling them over his right shoulder. The approaching sunset over the Lake led him into memories of the past. A past he was going to try hard to leave behind. Somehow the foot prints in the sand was a constant reminder. He had a small knapsack which contained lighter fluid and pen and paper on his back. A small cooler of ice in hand. His venture left the LeGend estate behind as he made his way again around the wooded bend bordering his own spot of beach. Stopping to look up at his house in process of additions he sits his cooler down and unloads his cumbersome pack and boots on to the beach.

Hands on his hips he admires the beauty of his home. He could still see his wife Nora grilling out on the back patio in her bikini watching him on his nightly run up the beach and back. His son stuck behind a book under the shade tree west of the house. He grinned wishing he could travel back in time and halt his running away be it on the beach or too some rat infested jungle. He was always on the move.

Reaching down he pops open the cooler and grabs an ice cold bottle of "Bud". He twists the cap off and lifts it up to look at the beer, "B.U.D.full." Chuckling he takes a healthy swallow and lets out an exhale, "Time to rekindle that old flame, Nora."

He sits the bottle down on the top of the cooler and goes about the timberline grabbing kindling and dried driftwood. Before long he had a mound of brush and firewood that would last half the night. A few squirts of lighter fluid and a healthy match started an open flame.

Dusk was settling quickly. Nurturing the fire he sat down and kicked back. Memories continued to flood him. Closing his eyes he could see Nora doing the hula in her grass skirt and coconut bra in front of him just before he laid her there on the beach and made sweet love to his ONE.

Swig after swig of one beer after another he sinks into a deep depression. No tears fell but the memory of his Mother telling him of Nora's accident rang in his head over and over. Where was he? Mexico City. Where should he have been? He growls and casts his empty bottle aside. Another cap discarded the beer drains quickly. Parched from so many nights of hoarse swallows. "Dammit Nora." He murmurs.

He reflects back to earlier in the day and his talk with Nora's sister Nina, knowing he should have said more but chose to take things slow. There were too many emotions hiding that needed to be addressed slowly. He would get to it. In time. For now his concern was adjusting to the quiet life. He knew he needed to gather his emotions before his son arrived tomorrow.

The crackling firewood mesmerized him. "The Devil made me do it."

He chuckles faintly then suppresses his humor, perceiving that the Devil always had his say concerning his life. He thrived in Hell. His only Heaven was here with Nora and Connor. Yet, why couldn't he grasp being a Father? Hating himself further for saddling his In-law's with his burden. Then, finally with Nina, Nora's chosen Godparent. Nora was always unstable. Irresponsible. Greedy. A Succubus. A smirk crosses his lips, "Me as a gal. Unstable when I'm not in my environment. Irresponsible when I ducked out on my boy for three years without so much as a, "be seeing ya kid. Do yer homework and brush yer teeth. Greedy? Look what Norajean left me?"

He stretches his arms out in all directions, "Far as the thigh can see. I'm sittin' on the biggest secret this country has outside of the Colonel's original recipe. I used Nora's money to invest and build. Hell I'm Howard Huge goosin' the loose. Nobody needs to know my assets. I pay my taxes and vanish. Off shore accounts hide the tide. And, what do I buy for myself? It's given to me on a silver platter. Bet's won. Debts owed. I got more scratches on my back than a leper with poison ivy. That's how I've led my life. Build an empire and do my best Robin Hoodwink. Slave to my grind. I put the LAY in Ladie's man. Missionary Impossible style. On call and ready to give it all. Got my mind off Nora's loss. But, that sure didn't help my boy. He lost both of us."

"Who am I kiddin'? Both world's ain't gonna mesh easy. Conjob's nothin' like me. Prolly rather watch the "Iron Chef", than do anything with his ole man."

A deep sigh before draining another bottle dry he raises the empty to the darkness. "Gonna try my best Nora. All I am I owe to you. My world is my own to rule. I'm just gonna need ya to gimme hints how to handle our youngun. I just hope the day I get him his first prom tux he don't head next door and look for a dress. He's too much like you. Course, he can't sing as good as my "Songbheard". Water refuses to spray til Conjob stops singin' in the shower."

He knows he's rambling and borderline drunk. "Ight. My Bud's abandoned me. Thinkin' I'll write me a love letter to my best girl."

Digging into the nap sack he finds the pad of paper and his pen. Settling into a comfortable light from the fire he thinks to himself, "Dear Diarrhea. I'm shit faced. And, ain't no wipin' this grin off my ass."

With a chuckle he looks up toward the shadowy timber shrouding his wife's grave plot.

"What's that, NoraJean? Stop bein' an ass and pull up my genes? "X" or the "Y"? All ends in a "Z" after a lotta "O's"."

Silence befalls him as he looks toward his house on the hill.

"Yer right Norajean. I'm not gonna let the flies live on the shit any longer. I'll raise our boy to be a Man. A good Man. Better Man even. In the meantime I'm gonna help some gals become Better Women."

He chuckles, "Soundin' like I'm writin' an article for , "Better Home and Guardian". Don't it?"

Puckering his lips Garrison Dhorne has an idea.

"Time to bottle up my emotions and devotions. Let's see what those gals got."

Two hours later Garrison Dhorne would pass out drunk. Enlightened, but drunk none the less. He hadn't even tapped into his pint of "Jack Daniels". He would toast his house on the hill at the bottom of the bottle.

"Now this here's the house that "Jack" built."