Chapter 28

It was like slow sand. Quicksand sucks one under ... slow sand spits out the dead. She had been dead ... she was sure. She was positive dead was going to be more comfortable than alive. She was coming up from a long time down.

She ached ... all over more than any one place.

"You're awake. Here, suck on this."

It was a melodious voice, one that had practice speaking to survivors. 'This' was cold and wet ... it felt good on an unused throat.

"Do you remember what happened?"

"No," she croaked.

"You were shot."

Ah, she winced ... that's right ... the watch ... the water ... the boat.

"Twice."

"I remember." it wasn't a voice yet ... but it was getting better.

"Good ... that's good. What's your name?"

A second chip was held to her lips ... she sucked in greedily. When it was gone she said, "Andrea." There was more ... oh ... yes. "Koenigsknecht."

"Bless you!"

Her brain was trying to wrap itself around another name ... Slagle ... but he was gone ... she started to cry. Two years dead ... and unmourned.

An unusual Nurse ... she let her cry.

Andrea Slagle, Ph.D., remembered it all. The first time ... she was almost 16 and newly released from school. He was awestruck ... and clumsy. But he was polite. She didn't see him until her interest in her section of history was fulfilled ... then the 'interest' in the male of the species slapped her in the face. A visit from the future by herself to the past instigated the investigation. He was still at the school ... a newly minted Ph.D ... as she was ... he was working in his research lab ... she wore suggestive clothing ... one thing led to another ... ZAP ... they were married. She was so happy. So happy, happy and it all came to an end. A unknown relative ... an enormous legacy ... a crazy wastrel trying to kill her had shot and killed her husband.

She killed the man who murdered her husband. It all came back to her now ... would she ever be happy again? She mourned ... this was what the succession of councilors had tried to get her to do ... move on after mourning her loss.

The nurse let her cry. She cried until it hurt. It's no fun having stitches and trying not to put any pressure on them. Massive sneezes become 'ah-sneet.' Ah-CHOO' hurt like a mutherfucker. 'Ah-sneet' was bad enough.

Heart rending sobs hurt too. She mourned in silence ... then she told the nurse ... who was this nurse anyway?

"I'm sorry, but who are you?"

"Aunt Jean."

"Huh?"

"I'm Wendolyn's grandmother's sister ... and somehow weirdly related to your David ... Grandmother Austin's second cousin by marriage, thrice removed ... or something like ... only 1840's ... or maybe a little later, Wyoming Territory."

"He's not my David."

"Yes he is ... he just doesn't know it yet ... and from the look on your face ... neither do you."

She sobbed on Jean's shoulder a while ... blew her way through a case of Kleenex ... and talked. And talked. And talked. The longer she talked the farther back Jean had reference to.