Chapter 1

Characters appearing in the first two chapters:

Mark Kent

College student, 5'-9" tall, 155 pounds, 19 years old, brown hair, hazel eyes

Mary Kathleen O'Connell (Katie)

Mary Margaret O'Connell (Margie)

Twin sisters, Irish, 5'-2" tall, 110 pounds, 36D-24-36, 16 years old, long red hair, deep green eyes, a light dusting of freckles, very, very cute

The ad in the college newspaper read:

WANTED

Young man to do gardening and other household

chores. Hard work. Slackers need not apply.

Good pay and benefits. Apply at the house at

the end of Plantation Lane between the hours

of 2:00 and 4:00 in the afternoon,

I seldom read the college newspaper, as it was too full of political correctness to suit me. I did, however, check the want ads, especially when I needed a new job - like now. I was in my first year of college, and my grants and partial scholarship didn't cover all of my expenses, so I needed a job to make ends meet.

I had a part-time job up until this week. The pay wasn't great, but I was getting by. Unfortunately, they needed to cut staff to stay in business, and I was let go along with two others. I needed to find a job, or I wasn't going to be eating in a week or so. The ad looked very promising, if everyone on campus didn't apply, that is.

I inquired among my friends and acquaintances at school, but none of them had any idea where Plantation Lane was located. Some of them recommended that I ask in town. I don't have the luxury of a car, but I do have a motorcycle - a 150 cc Kawasaki. It isn't great, but it gets me around the area.

Statesboro, Georgia isn't a large town, and I asked about Plantation Lane at a few places, but got the cold shoulder. I finally stopped at the store that sold farm and garden supplied there.

"Can you tell me where Plantation Lane is?" I asked one of the older clerks there.

"Are they hiring again?" he asked, rather crankily.

"Yes, there was an ad in the college paper for a gardener," I answered.

"You should consider working somewhere else," he told me.

"There aren't that many other part-time jobs available when I'm not in school or studying," I told him. He finally told me how to get to Plantation Lane. It was a short distance out of town off of one of the local highways. He still tried to dissuade me from going out there, however.

By now it was 3:00 and I headed for the job interview, unsure how long it would take to get there, but confident that not too many people would be there after all of the trouble I had had finding out where it was.

I proceeded out the State route a couple of miles and soon came to the sign for Plantation Lane and turned on to it. I was quite surprised when I started up the lane. The roadway was two lanes wide and as straight as an arrow. There were huge old oak trees all along the way. They were spaced about a hundred feet apart. The trees on the left side of the road were spaced midway between those on the right side of the road, so that there were tree branches covering the roadway every fifty feet or so.

There were entrances to several large houses along the road on both sides. These were large old houses with expansive lawns and were in very good condition. Near the end of the one and a quarter mile road there were a couple of houses that appeared to be abandoned and were not in good condition. Finally the lane ended at the entrance gates to the final house there.

The gates were magnificent iron creations with a tall iron fence going off for quite some distance on either side perpendicular to the road. The main gates were also closed and locked at present. However, there was an open personnel gate to the right of the main gates. There were also a car and a pickup truck parked in front of the gates. Others had obviously arrived before me.

I nearly gave up then, but decided what the heck, I was here and would go in and see what was offered. I was not comfortable leaving the Kawasaki out on the road with the other vehicles and maneuvered it through the personnel gate and parked it on the side of the entry road.

I had noticed while passing through the personnel gate that the main gates and the fence were in need of maintenance to remove the growing rust and then needed to be repainted. One of my uncles was a blacksmith and I knew what to look for and how much work would be involved in doing the job correctly on the long stretch of fence visible on either side of the main gates.

The walk from the gates to the house was several hundred feet long, and it gave me time to get a good look at the large plantation style house as I approached. The house appeared to be a two story with a very steep roof, which led me to suspect that there was a considerable attic space with servants quarters in it, as the house appeared to be very old - well maintained but very old, never the less.

There was a broad porch across the front of the house with columns supporting the porch roof every ten or twelve feet. There was also a wide set of steps leading up to the porch, where two young men were being interviewed.

The two appeared to be college guys from their rather sloppy dress and long hair. I assumed that they belonged to the two vehicles I had seen at the entrance gates. One was sitting in a chair to the left of the large double doors to the house. The second one was standing in front of a small table with two young women sitting behind it.

The two young women immediately drew my attention. It was difficult to judge their height while sitting down, but they didn't appear to be overly tall. The rest of them was fairly obvious however. Their long flaming red hair set off their smooth alabaster skin and, as I drew closer, I could see that they had a light sprinkling of freckles.

They had on Forest Green velvet dresses that set off their deep green eyes, which I finally saw when being interviewed. The skirts of the dresses were very full and extended to within a few inches of the porch floor. I finally realized, as I neared the porch, that there were petticoats under their dresses that made them look so full.

Petticoats in this day and age, I wondered? But their presence was confirmed when I saw them peeking out under their dresses, as I mounted the steps to the porch. The two young women were obviously just concluding the interview with that individual when I arrived, as they stood and thanked him for coming.

"Well, here is another applicant," the one said, as I reached the top of the steps.

"Have a seat young man," the other young woman said, as she turned back to the interviewee. "We'll let you know if you have the job after we finish the interviews. We can reach you at the number that you gave, correct?"

"Yes, just ask for me," the guy said.

"Thank you for coming," the first young woman said very sexily, as the guy turned away and headed down the steps and back to his vehicle.

"You're next," the second young woman said to the guy in the chair, and he rose to go over to the table.

This close I could see that the two young women stood about 5'-2" tall, had large breasts, at least 36Ds, and their trim waists were accented by the flair of their skirts caused by the petticoats. They both looked stunning with their long red hair gathered to one side over their shoulders. It came down over the tops of their breasts.

As the second individual approached the table, the women shook hands with him and then seated themselves behind the table drawing on shawls from the chairs there. It was by now after 3:30 on a late February afternoon and still very cool, even here in central Georgia.

The women proceeded to ask him for information about himself, but it was just the normal things any employer would need to know. They also asked some general questions about gardening. The interview lasted a little over five minutes, and then this second individual was leaving.

"Next," the first young woman said, and I rose and approached the table.

"This could be the one we have waited for," Mary Kathleen O'Connell said in Gaelic to her sister as the young man with brown hair approached the porch. [Since most of my readers don't speak or read Gaelic the translations will be in Italics. uj]

"Yes, I sensed him when he came through the gate," Mary Margaret O'Connell answered her sister.

"I wouldn't have thought so, sister dear. Not from the way you were ogling the one with soft hands standing here at the time," Mary Kate answered.

"Thank you, young man. We'll let you know if you have the job after all of the interviews," Mary Margaret said in English to the one who had previously been seated.

"Next," Mary Kate said in English as she turned to the young man who they both had sensed as soon as he had come through the gate of their property.

As I approached the table both women rose to shake my hand, as they had done with the others.

"Thank you for coming," they both said, as they each took my hand in theirs to shake it.

I had only heard a part of their previous remarks in a different language. It was one that had a familiar sound to it, but I hadn't understood what was said.

"My name is Mary Kathleen O'Connell and this is my sister, Mary Margaret," the first young woman said, as she took my hand. It was then that I realized just how young both of these women were. They appeared to hardly be old enough to be hiring gardeners or anyone else.

Mary Kathleen had a strong but not unpleasant grip, and I could detect the fragrance of lilacs emanating from her. Her sister, Mary Margaret, had a similar handshake but smelled of jasmine. It was the only way I had to tell them apart at present.