Astronomy Picture of the Day

Sunday, April 29, 2012

Interview with a Clone Chapter 10

Interview with a Clone
Chapter 10

By Mary e. Gerdt
All rights reserved 2012

The Unknown Fortune Teller of 2036

As Alice’s story progresses, unfolds, words and mental images peeled off, one chapter at a time,
As the time line begins to shape up, the imagination leaving gaps as yet to be filled in.

The Author.

I am the author of this tale about Alice and her clone-liness and how
The world might have gone in 2064. I have no name significant to you. No I am not the name at the top of this page. She is merely a scribe.
I am an unknown fortune teller of 2036.

When I was born, in 2020, my parents abandoned me in a temple
On a mountain you will never know where.
Sworn to secrecy and vowing silence, the priests hid me away
And I never knew any other life. My needs were met, my nun
Attendants schooled me, nurtured me, like a hundred mothers.
As I grew older, I was restless and at the age of 16, I abandoned the Temple lifestyle for the streets of the city.
That was when I discovered a great power within me, I saw the future,
Once free and hungry, finally scared, or just
Smart enough to know what scared was, finally.
No one to meet my needs, no one to lean on.

I sat in a park at midnight. A pigeon cooed and a street lamp flickered.
An old man walked by, slowly. My heart pounded, he was large, looked fearless, maybe a desperado as they were called, homeless sharks, desperate for anything you had.

“What took you so long?” He remarked in a voice that sounded so serene, so mellow, so safe. (Was it a trick?)

I sat there, no name, no home, barely alive, hungry desperado myself,
Only I was 16, tender skinned, green, naΓ―ve.
I could not speak.

“Come,” He said softly, as he put his arm on my shoulder.

“Come and I will show you your powers. You are the One.”

I relented and figured if he was going to kill me, then perhaps at least it would be over, my inability to fend as a single unit, a lone pillar topples, I had hit rock bottom in that park. And he would be a demon or an angel.

He took me in and fed me, clothed me, gave me separate living quarters. He gave me privacy and instruction in the ways of the world. The hard world. The one that would step over a hungry cold 16 year old girl as they walked through the park.

The first night after the first day in my new place, the old man as I called him, spoke to me once.
“You are free to come and go. You have powers and you are unaware. Your parents were from my country and I will never speak of this again. You must write down any visions you have, no matter how silly they seem. In exchange for you recording these visions, you will live here rent free and all of your food and living expenses will be provided for.”

It was not really a matter of whether I would do this.
We like to think we have many choices but when it comes right down to it, there is usually only none or two and we have to pick the better one even between bad choices.

It is in this manner that I came to write down the story of Alice Karma and her life. I wrote it decades before it happened. He knew I would be able to tune in somehow and write this story. There must have been a connection somehow with my parents, those unknown entities, a mystery to me which tormented me until I died. I could tell you everything about a mythical future clone and yet nothing about my own parents.

The old man told me one day that we were all put on the planet for a purpose, a challenge, a love and a legacy. It is up to each of us to carry out our purpose. When evil intent motivates an action, nothing good can come out of that.
One day early on I walked through the department store downtown. A clerk screamed when she saw me. “I thought I saw a ghost. “, she said, with exasperated panting and fanning her chest, as if from “the vapors”.
When I asked the old man, he said not to worry about such silliness.
Deep down, I knew it was because the clerk thought I was my mother.
Puzzle piece solved. I look like my mother. Over the years I would find a few of these pearls, yet none led me to discover who I really was, or how I got here.
These facts are irrelevant.
This story is all about Alice.

Sunday Music Link

Support Americana Music, Levon helped define it and
He was a bridge from the old people, old music, old ways.

Saturday, April 28, 2012

Saturday Night Journal

We went about the day as normal, Saturday chores & checking online for tributes, photos from Woodstock.
It is Saturday, traditionally Ramble night. After we had been to one Ramble, we started getting excited on Saturday afternoons, even when we had no tickets. Levon is the main reason why. His cloud of supportive people is the other reason why. Mom introduced me to the poetry of Kahlil Gibran. This was a poem she shared with me after Katie died. I wanted to post words, not music tonight, another Saturday night.

A Tear And A Smile

by Kahlil Gibran

I would not exchange the sorrows of my heart
For the joys of the multitude.
And I would not have the tears that sadness makes
To flow from my every part turn into laughter.

I would that my life remain a tear and a smile.

A tear to purify my heart and give me understanding
Of life's secrets and hidden things.
A smile to draw me nigh to the sons of my kind and
To be a symbol of my glorification of the gods.

A tear to unite me with those of broken heart;
A smile to be a sign of my joy in existence.

I would rather that I died in yearning and longing than that I live Weary and despairing.

I want the hunger for love and beauty to be in the
Depths of my spirit,for I have seen those who are
Satisfied the most wretched of people.
I have heard the sigh of those in yearning and Longing, and it is sweeter than the sweetest melody.

With evening's coming the flower folds her petals
And sleeps, embracingher longing.
At morning's approach she opens her lips to meet
The sun's kiss.

The life of a flower is longing and fulfilment.
A tear and a smile.

The waters of the sea become vapor and rise and come
Together and area cloud.

And the cloud floats above the hills and valleys
Until it meets the gentle breeze, then falls weeping
To the fields and joins with brooks and rivers to Return to the sea, its home.

The life of clouds is a parting and a meeting.
A tear and a smile.

And so does the spirit become separated from
The greater spirit to move in the world of matter
And pass as a cloud over the mountain of sorrow
And the plains of joy to meet the breeze of death
And return whence it came.

To the ocean of Love and Beauty----to God.
Khalil Gibran

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Spring Notes

We had quite a dump of rain all at once, a nor'easter giving us rain and mixed precip I really missed or ignored. Work week strains the schedule and posting is brief tonight (for tomorrow) , NCIS night. Gave up the satellite dish awhile ago so we hit or miss and really do not miss anything. Looked for spring photos in the archives, none seemed right. Cool weather can let up anytime. Will rain all week. Is it Wednesday yet?

Monday, April 23, 2012

Night light



Moon light

through the clouds,

and the planets

all reflecting


The Earth Turning always Turning

and still flying through space

in a dance with the Moon

and planets around the Sun

and we feel like we are standing still.

This moment, remembered by the photo,

is here again, posting on the web

to go around the world.

Reflections, ripples, waves of

Moonlight, reflected again & again


and blowing cold winds kept us inside this weekend
listening to Levon tunes, reading tributes from all over the world,
tweeting and rewteeting some
and being sad too
in between house chores.
We listened to the  Sox -Yankees games on the radio.
Non Partisan, just nice to listen to good play by play.
Painful for the Bo-sox. Rained out last night.
We needed the rain. The trees, and plants are thirsty
after just scant snowfalls. Now we hope we don't get a snow storm.
Just getting used to Spring.

With all the pain and mourning in the
world, was hoping to come up with something
profound or unique and reflective
or helpful
and all I could think of was

Saturday, April 21, 2012


Blustery weather outside, 50's.
Rain is imminent which we need so badly,
yet not too much please...
We wanted to get to the mowing and yet the cold wind
blew us back inside.
I am forging on with my novel even though last night
I literally wrote Chapter 9 while falling asleep.
There was an urgency in me getting back to Alice's part of the story.
She is the she-hero.
Ok, it might show in lack of polish or yet to be discovered typos,
fixed one when I read it.
rule # 128 borrowed from the painter,
there are no mistakes, only happy accidents.
Fictional character: Alice is hanging in there, a trooper, and discovering herself, her quirks,
her regrets. She is finally able to see a future for herself, and go in a new direction.

Great link to article from across the pond about Levon:

link to Marc Cohn 's song about Levon...sweet!

imus, chas & lou about levon...

i keep adding clips, bear with me!

Interview with a Clone Chapter 9

Interview with a Clone

Chapter 9

By Mary E Gerdt

2012 All rights reserved

2064, Bermuda

The Snow subsided on the afternoon of Christmas Day in Bermuda. The sunbeams pierced the winter clouds in grand spreading golden waves of light reflected on the water. The storm was over. Alice sighed softly.

The sun warmed the air and cleansed her face and limbs. She had craved the sunlight. There had been no sunlight on Bermuda since the asteroid hit, over 6 months ago. Now, Alice marveled, she could see the snow melt, the icicles fall, the birds changed

Their tunes, sweet tunes she had not heard in months. Soon, the green would be back,

The trees would heal or be replanted, the gardens rejuvenated. Alice had a fantasy, a hope, that balmy spring day for a rebuilding of her mother’s original work. Alice would have a daughter, a clone. It was only a fantasy, Alice would remind herself silently.

Alice, Georgia and Katie picked up debris left on the beach by the storm: branches, broken beach chairs, other people’s garbage. They set aside driftwood in case the storms came back. Predictions were positive, however, that their Bermuda weather would return to its normal cycles, and natives could rest easier and expect tourists again. Alice dreaded tourists approaching the lab compound. She had fences, dogs, cameras
And still people would try to get a glimpse of the mysterious place out on Dolphin's Point.

Why is it that humans are attracted to that which they cannot attain?

The greenhouses needed some repairs where snow had collapsed the roof.
Overall, the island fared better than expected. Some deaths initially were heart attacks and panicked people. Later some died of shoveling, some shovelled after every few inches of snowfall. They just got worn out, cold, and cranky.

The laboratory stopped producing human clones long ago. Alice was the first and last clone produced before the government entities took all the equipment, notes, supplies to make more clones. Alice and Georgia turned to developing and expanding agricultural cloning, plants, animals, food production. These women were as committed to feeding the world as Susan Wolf had wanted a clone daughter.

Alice stretched out on the lounge chair after a day of beach clean-up labor. Thoughts flowed through her mind like the Interview yesterday with Gigi and memories of Dawn Fairweather, long ago, when Alice rescued her on the beach. Before long, she would be asleep and dreaming again her usual nightmare. The childhood reality based dream or subconscious bubble of memory about walking on the beach back in the Bahamas, and suddenly, her toe hit the girls ribs.

Friday, April 20, 2012


Condolences to the family, friends, staff, and
of fans
Levon Helm

He was so special to so many
He was very special to us

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Link to Special Video about The Man

We found this special link and are grateful for this

And we know, as he struggles,
he is strong

Our Shaman guide, inspiration for 40 years,
gracious host, musician, father, grandfather,
husband, friend to millions, entertainer,
full on energy
light shining

We saw him close up a few times
and it is difficult to even
just how he keeps all those moves straight,
singing, mandolin, drums, conductor
how he makes the sticks quiver above the skins
how he interacts fully engaged
and looks back and forth to
his fellow musicians,
and the audience
with that
We love you Levon
Best wishes to you and yours

Levon Helm & Band Woodstock, VT
day before Irene

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

For The Man

For The Man,
Drummer Extraordinaire

Think good thoughts
for him

link to one of our favorites...


The History of Atlantis
is an old book I found at a rummage sale.
I mailed it to Mom and she mailed it back.
She liked the book and the articles someone had clipped from the
Burlington Free press of the sixties.
In the paper articles, Jacques Cousteau was looking for Atlantis.
Just like my Mom.
Jacques was like a member of the family,
TV of the sixties...
that meant we watched his show
whenever he was on. Loved his French accent.

Curious was reading about the theory that there was No Atlantis....
Could Atlantis have been only a fancy tale spun from men looking to explain
a utopian paradise so perfect that the earth swallowed it whole leaving not a trace?

And would Mom be relieved that perfection is Not possible,
and Atlantis is not the be all and end all.
That common daily living raising 7 children is the ultimate challenge.

Yesterday I thought about Noah's ark, seeing 2 swallows yesterday, 2 geese, then 8 vultures.
2 by 2, flying home to our backyard.

The swallows I saw were relieved their home was still here.(I swear they chattered "thanks")

Grey and broken boards,
it is their home, their

Monday, April 16, 2012

They are back…

The swallows and vultures are back.
I thought I saw a swallow at the same time they were chattering, bugging Fred to take the window off the shed so they can “get to it”, start the first of 2 or sometimes 3 broods.
Less than 2 minutes after the window came off, they went inside
to check out last year’s nests.
I waited outside with the camera and saw none this afternoon.
Fred snapped this one.
Welcome back.

Sunday, April 15, 2012

Time Out

Take 2 minutes and just listen to the sea & songbirds

You need to take a break sometimes.
What relaxes you?
Make your own movie
and watch it
when you need
a break.
Time out

Saturday, April 14, 2012


A Blackbird
high up in the locust tree
through song
fluffing out his feathers
this is my home

Friday, April 13, 2012

Friday night music link

link to you tube the album...

Tax Talk

It is always time
for Tax Talk...
These citixens want VT property tax accountability...

Happy Friday,

Wind & Wuthering spooled up for some classic music
& my all time favorite Genesis album

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Interview with a Clone. Chapter 8

Interview with a Clone Chapter 8

by mary e.gerdt 2012 all rights reserved

The Recovery part II

Tommy Fairweather sat on the plane, cell phone
To his ear and still not listening to the drone of a prospective client.
His mind fixated on the cryptic limited words,
He recalled from earlier,
the phone call from
His sister Gigi,
She spit out, “There has been an Accident.
Adrenaline rush #1.………
Dawn is OK.
[remembering all the times Gigi said something was ok…Dad died,
Mom broke her hip, Gigi’s parachute did not open, Tommy’s dog drowned, ad infinitum]
But a little Banged up…”

A solar flare cut off their conversation and at that point, Gigi had done all she could do. She knew Tommy would be there as soon as humanly possible. Tommy stared out the window.
“Are you ok?” his client on the phone grumbled.
Tommy scratched the phone, squeaking the word “static…” and hung up and turned it off, covered his head, and sobbed.
“Dawn…..”, he wimpered softly. “I am coming, little girl…”

Dawn woke smelling the clean antiseptic menthol alcohol scent of the island hospital. Her movement was restricted. She was in a body cast and
felt tubes in several uncomfortable places. One she could see draped across her cheek running up to a plastic bin with milk in it or so it appeared.
Her pain was coming in waves and yet even at the age of 10, she was reassured as she deduced that having pain indicated she was alive.
She felt an itch just below her left ankle and tried to look down but a
Neck collar kept her head up facing forward.
Dawn began to say, “Nurse, Nurse.” over and over again, starting softly,
Seeing the shut door, she increased the volume,
Until she was nearly screaming, “Nurse, Nurse!”

Tommy got his bags and took a cab to the hospital where Dawn was presently screaming for the nurses.

The old woman from the beach sat in the waiting room, blending in with the other visitors, no one questioned why she was there. She often sat by Alice in the waiting room.
In the short time Dawn was recovering in the hospital, Alice grew to trust and love the old woman.
Susan and Georgia were oblivious to the old woman. Their primary concern was Dawn.
The old woman held an amulet in her hand, recited spells in her mind,
Sending a message without speaking of the apocalypse
And the horrors of cloning.
The old woman secretly was plotting to hurt Alice as the old woman tried to blame Alice for Dawn’s near drowning.

Gigi came to Alice’s defense as she knew exactly what had happened.
The captain of the tourist vessel Dawn and Gigi had been on, explained to the authorities how this little girl was thrown overboard from a rogue wave and how she was pulled underwater and washed ashore. The reef kept them out farther than they would like. It was faster to come ashore around the point. They did what they could.
Tommy was never called. It would be some time before he would even know any of this.
Dawn saw her father Tommy and her eyes lit up. Tommy had a let down feeling seeing a body cast, tubes, his little girl, a heap of broken bones in a foreign hospital. He was going to really give it to Gigi…
He never thought Gigi should take Dawn on that trip. Dawn did not even know how to swim. Tommy squeezed Dawn’s hand and showed her the teddy bear he got her. Her cradled it in her casted arm. She was relieved, her father was here. Perhaps now she could go back home. Little did she know, her forever home would be changing soon for forever.

Meanwhile, Susan’s security detail summoned her to bug out of the Bahamas to Bermuda. They had a secure facility there and her data chips were being locked down.
The elderly medicine woman had spilled the clone talk, and threatened all Susan had built up. Alice’s innocent friendship nearly cost their lives and Susan would have to speak with Alice about clone talk. Susan just could not bring herself to do the corrective talk to Alice today. Tomorrow she would be a parent. Tomorrow she would set the limits and boundaries. Today she was gathering any vital info to save and packing for their new home. Today they were moving to Bermuda.
Dawn was transported to a hospital in Houston near where she and Tommy lived.

Susan, Alice, Georgia, Katie and the labs moved to Bermuda.
Alice never ran away again. Georgia forgave Alice.
Life for the adults went straight forward, barely faltered,
plodded on, so much to do.
They had moved into an old college campus
and had better labs really, They accelerated their research for
sustainable foods and living off the Earth.

Alice felt so much had changed.
When would life settle down?
Would her life be different if she had not run away?
And run into Dawn? and the Old Lady?
Years later she would ask herself how did such a special friend Dawn and the old lady turn out to be both bad friends,
for different reasons?

Alice would ask her self that question for the rest of her life.

Monday, April 9, 2012

Sunday, April 8, 2012

Darkness in the Light

Have a Blessed Easter wherever you are on or off the planet.
My memories of Easter are mental snaphots and video clips of Mom putting a new dress on me,
me feeling awkward and flat footed, standing lined up with my brothers for pictures
with my new dress and shoes on.
Easter candy and great foods awaited my completion of church attendance.
The images in the church, confusing.
A handsome, friendly looking serene man hanging on a cross
He died for our sins
Who is He?

Even now, curious about how He really died, the nurse in me looked for the answers.
I found this Link to
A doctor's account of the crucifixion experience and progression of death.
How much more suffering could one human impose on another?

when i saw the expensive chocolate cross in the aisle at w-mart,
it jogged me,
Jogged again,
that was the guy pushing me from behind
in a hurry for Easter.

then the kid
i helped him bag the groceries and he thanked me
i told him i sensed people were a little cranky today
and that tomorrow they would all be praying for atonement.
he laughed for a second.
i happened on this article
which helps me clarify how
He died for our sins

Friday, April 6, 2012

Why you gotta be so mean?

Kelsy Fogerty & her Dad.

doing "Mean."

Through his eyes

Rudy's Eyes.
I remember the pain I saw
reflected in Rudy's eyes.
He told me long ago
When we were close,
He lost his wife Kit,
My Mother in Law
I never knew.
She took 20 aspirins a day
and had a stroke
and did not make it to 50.
He described her
gnarly joints,
pain and debility,
hope and perseverance,
raising 3 children
on the farm.
I treasure those rare second hand memories of my mother in law
via Rudy when we sat
by the woods
taking a break in between
loads of firewood.
He loved her so
and felt so powerless
as she slipped away,
this big strong man
he shared that with me,
and always with the story,
a tear formed
in Rudy's eyes.

I wrote this when Lisa Emrich challenged me in poetry month.
This poem about the sadness and challenges of rheumatoid arthritis.
I have cared for many people with stages mild to severe RA.
Then this memory came to me. Pain all around.
The good news is
Treatment is possible today not available mere decades ago.

Thursday, April 5, 2012

Hubble Favorites...

Idols of the universe....................................................................................................................................
Eighth Anniversary Image of Hubble
from the hubble 8th anniversary
top photos...

and in honor of poetry month & Lisa's poetry challenge,
here is a freestyle one for all of us with scars on our nervous system
that we have trouble explaining,
kind of like these images,
hard to see
from the outside.


played on the radio.
yes I hear you Neil,
you were there with
Katie & I
in a red car
on the back roads
corn country
on the 90th meridian
Southern Illinois.

Scarred back then
by grief,
losing friends too young,
rendering us

does grief
does being helpless
 make scars too
in our fabric net

We fight
an invisible MonSter,
others know so well,
how do we explain,
how it hurts?
i am helpless

So if you see
a MonSter,
better run girl,
it is no good.
(Is it something you can run from?)

 I see the universe before me,
images too large,
impossible to

I never could run before
the scars
that warped my
slowing ever so slighly,
still always flatfooted,
filled with
hope each day
the MonSter
can be rendered
utterly, completely, obliteratively

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Brass and Ivory: Life with MS & RA: Poetry and Quotes

Blogging forward...Lisa's Poem & Challenge

by Lisa Emrich, MS/RA expert Blogger advocate musician extraordinaire

Brass and Ivory: Life with MS & RA: Poetry and Quotes: Today's prompt for the Health Activist Writer's Month Challenge is - "Choose a quote that inspires you – positively or negatively – and gets...

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Hope for Spring

Archival spring photos to remind us
spring is coming back
and will set all this in motion,
have faith,
cruel cold snap after summer like weather
what were we thinking?

hope is such a fragile place
and worth going to
like drinking from a well,
may you find refreshment there.

Sunday, April 1, 2012

Interview with a Clone Chapter 7

I am posting for Sunday and Monday. Taking a day off tomorrow so to speak.
We were disappointed that we got all the way to the beach and Levon [update 4.21.12 could not perform i re-read this today 4.21 and got mad at myself. started cutting and striking through. Now in the anger phase]
did not take long to get past denial...
we thought he could heal from any sprain, ache, he was one of those
tightly wound intense people, you never want to tangle with, he will win everytime.
[update#2 on 4.21.12, which is 3 weeks later, Levon has passed on and how sad it is. He rarely cancelled shows and had survived great adversity. The only good news is he did not suffer from the dwindles. As we drove away from the cancelled show, I knew Levon was the most disappointed that day. He lived to perform. He taylored his healthcare choices so he could perform. We are grateful passive listeners.mary]
he was 70 something and was going to do a rockin' headliner performance 3 weeks ago.
Still we found some very nice people and just the feel of the beach I needed to go on with this
story of Alice Karma. I took some nice photos and heard the sound and smell of the ocean.
We saw the sunrise, ate seafood and walked on the sand. Penny had given me a piece of black coral for
a going away gift. Within a week we were at the ocean. The blankets in our cozy room adorned with dark coral, surfboard picture on the wall. So it seemed like good timing, this trip we took.
A mini vacation. The hotel lady told us the concert was called off after the sound checks.
She said it in her dry New Hampshire way. I thought she was joking. She was not.
When we got home I researched the word disappointment.
I found this quote in several places...

"It is cruel, you know, that music should be so beautiful. It has the beauty of loneliness of pain: of strength and freedom. The beauty of disappointment and never-satisfied love. The cruel beauty of nature and everlasting beauty of monotony.”

― Benjamin Britten
And I realized we were disappointed because his music means so much to us.
Disappointment does not come from casual desires.

Interview with a Clone
Chapter 7

By Mary E. Gerdt 2012 all rights reserved

The Recovery part 1

Dawn Fairweather felt lost in a fog of near drowning, being near death,

Nearly lured all the way down the long hallway towards the light.

Every time she opened her eyes, the light, too much, the faces, all staring,

The pain in her broken bones,

Unbearable. She could not scream, it hurt when she breathed, feeling her lungs wet and spongy, still coughing up the ocean.

She tried to shield her eyes and ears, her face, from the reality she felt.

Trying to hide like an ostrich. Her left arm was broken at the shoulder.

She was alive and though she was only 10 years old, she knew she would be hurting for some time to come.

When was it, when she realized there were consequences?

There was a future beyond today?

The paramedics and local volunteers worked through their protocols while on the radio
To a pediatrician in Nassau. A local woman had been the first to arrive when she heard Alice’s screams. She stayed holding Dawn until help arrived. Then she was shooed away. Dawn looked for her now, as these strange people touched her with rubber gloved hands and a frightened gawking look. Dawn looked awful. Bruised and bloated, bent in the wrong places.

Alice ran back to the house and brought help. Now Alice stood back, wanting to get involved and yet frightened at the sight.

Georgia felt comfortable with chaos, pain and emergencies. She had her doctor bag and drew up some morphine. Georgia beckoned to Alice to hold Dawn’s good right hand. Alice complied. Georgia checked vital signs, started an IV and began fluids. She started with a few milligrams of morphine to start. The girl was shaking from pain and hypothermia. Georgia tried to immobilize the girl’s shoulder and arm and her legs, then covered her. They carefully loaded her onto the stretcher and she got more morphine. Then into the helicopter life flight to Nassau.

Alice and Georgia went with Dawn to the hospital. Dawn would not let go of either of them. Susan would have to go home to tend the experiments. She knew Georgia could handle this and that Alice would be OK with Georgia.
Susan saw Gigi Fairweather at a distance, just by the way she carried herself.

By now, Gigi knew that her brother’s daughter Dawn had been found, was awake, alert and being transported to see a pediatric trauma surgeon on Nassau. Dawn fell off the boat her Aunt Gigi had hired for a snorkeling vacation treasure hunting. Dawn could not swim and hit some rock before being pulled under in a rip tide. She then washed up on shore at Alice's feet.

Susan and Gigi embraced briefly, coolly. They had not seen each other since military academy.

“She is alive,” Susan said with a rarely expressed compassion.

Gigi blurted out, “It is all my fault, all my fault…“she poured out.

“No.” Susan uttered, "you do not need to go blaming anyone."

Susan continued, “She is alive. Alice spoke with her, Georgia and Alice are with her. They left for Nassau a half hour ago. Come, Gigi, come in and we will have a drink. There is nothing more we can do at this moment.”

Dawn and Alice’s eyes became fixed together. Dawn felt her pain melt a little with the morphine. The pain got a little more distant, she squeezed Alice’s trembling scared cold hand.

Georgia was phoning vital signs to the doctor via radio and shining lights into Dawn’s pupils, asking her questions, Where are you? Who are you? Alice laughed a little inappropriately.

Georgia, serious and solemn, worried, and now a little irritated at Alice, who ruined Katie’s birthday party.

“What are you laughing at, young lady?”

Oh no, Alice thought, she knew that tone…

Alice shook her head no, it meant “nothing…”

The doctor ashore seemed relieved for the moment.
Georgia in turn breathed a sigh of relief. They were 10 minutes to Nassau and the surgeon was standing by. The Anesthesia doctor was there. Nurses ready.

Dawn was alert and was alive and breathing.

Georgia asked Alice, “How did you find this, this girl?”

“Dawn”, Dawn said, feeling the need to defend her new found friend.

Alice said meekly, “I was running away from home.” She hung her head down

And was ready for punishment.

Georgia puzzled, asked Dawn what she was doing there.

Dawn replied, “I do not remember.” and passed out cold.

Alice screeched a little but choked it back as quickly as it started. She squeezed Dawn’s little hand and prayed silently, like the old lady did on the beach, the one who heard her screaming when she found Dawn and the old lady said, “go for help, Alice, I will pray for her.”

Georgia checked Dawn’s pulse and it was thready but present and she was breathing shallowly.

“She is OK.” Georgia said to a worried Alice.

“She will be OK. Rub her good arm gently." Alice complied, soothingly.

Gigi dialed the phone to her brother, Dawn’s father.

“There has been an accident. Dawn is OK but a little banged up….”