Chapter 1

The gust of wind hit me in the face like the proverbial 'ton of bricks'. Dust, dirt and an assortment of grime flew around from things blowing around. The outside walls of the apartments were all white. There were a lot of them, all looking quite the same, white since Californians seemed to distain most other colours.

My name was Ray. I had moved here after watching a DVD of an old TV series. One line said that 'California was the place to be'. Since my arrival I thought I could think of a few better places to live than LA.

Marge and Gene Magnusson had finally retired. For 43 years work had been Gene's life. In many ways it had been Marge's also. They had one boy, Ray, and if I remembered correctly, the family never took a trip more than ten or fifteen minutes away from home. Gene had made that business a success though, at least by his own measure. Ray would have preferred a father.

Well, now things were going to be different. On advice from the family lawyer, when Dad sold the business, part of the proceeds were placed in a trust for Ray. Each year, a nice sized lump sum would be deposited into his account. He would not be rich but he also could live on this annual money for the rest of his life. He then remembered something. His life. When his parents were gone though their money would be his too. It was a sobering thought.

He wished his parents well, a 'Bon Voyage' of sorts as they started that long awaited retirement freedom. Dad talked about getting a new car. He decided against that since he never had anywhere he wanted to go further than a few miles away. They would spend hours shopping at the stores, check and recheck prices, buy things, then take them back saying they had found the same things elsewhere at a lower cost. People around knew all about them. Well, if it made them happy, no harm, no foul.

Ray never had much of a social life, Hell, he had none; and it was something that he expected not to be any different now. Piedmont High School was about as social a place that Ray could remember. He had graduated about the same time Gene put the business up for sale. He had thought of College. Yep, he thought when Hell froze over would be a good time to get his higher 'edumacation'. Military and government service quickly followed on his checklist, noted as things not to do.

There were some things he was very good at, too good quite often. Math, numbers, equations were like his own personal playground. He would look at the things his father got in his numerous reports and charts, and see trends and projections a lot differently that the 'experts' advising his Dad on courses of action that would cost a lot of money, but worse, were products or technology that had long since been replaced with newer things. He would not say much bad about them but was certain to 'advise' his Dad to check out 'this or that' new thing first. Often, when comparing old and new, Gene saw the light himself and made the right decision.

Ray became his fathers son. At home it was an hour or two each night discussing the business. That and the fact that Ray had told his parents that he had no intention of following in Gene's footsteps.

If there was something called Fate or Destiny, then it had reached Ray one day. He had been looking at cars. John, the lawyer had advised getting one in California since they were so much different there. Money was not a real issue. His father had provided an extra addition into the bank. He had also provided for several funding options both from his or Ray's trust for 'extraordinary' purchases. A business or house was what he envisioned Ray might want.

Neither man had any thought that a girl of woman would see Ray as a 'meal ticket'. Just to be certain, John had already drafted a pre-nuptial agreement for Ray. All thought it would not be necessary but...

Fate, ah yes. Fate works in mysterious ways. While grocery shopping near his rented apartment at a small store; Ray noticed a large and crudely written note handing well below the posting bulletin board. Upon closer examination he determined the letters had been made with a crayon or marker. There were misspellings and what looked like words and letters crossed out then rewritten. The message was clear though. 'We need help at the farm. Will trade room and board for help. Mama is sick and can't do much right now. Please come.' Then it gave an address.

Now Ray was not religious but he had been taught that sometimes people needed help and that those that could should help out, if they could. That message seemed to be written just for him. He likened it to doing a 'good deed'. When he was checking out, the clerk gave him some idea where that address was at. By car it was less than one hour away and a bus line ran several times a day(4) right along there.

He had a day or two left on the rental car so decided he would drive on out and see what things might be like. That experience was to change his life in ways he would not imagine.

Dust, dust and more dust seemed to be the only thing on the road to that address. He had filled up in the town and gotten better direction. The gas station attendant had referred to it as the 'Preserve'. When Ray asked why, he was told the owners made jams, jellies and preserves, the likes of which had no equal. She also never seemed to want to sell any land, in fact had been a land buyer nearly 20 years. He was not sure the size now but her Daddy left her over 123,000 acres when he passed.

He finally reached 121 Rogers Way. A big sign rested on the left of the drive proudly proclaiming it 'The Preserve'. He turned in.

It was a long driveway. There was not much to look at until he reached a row of giant trees. They lined each side, several hundred feet between them and the girth of their trunk was immense. They were the giant Redwoods the West Coast was once noted for. There was a majesty and maybe some magic in them. As he drove further he felt he was going back in time or at least someplace he would not find anywhere else.

At the end of the line of tall trees he entered a clearing and saw the outline of the house. No not just a house, it was more like a small castle, complete with moat and drawbridge. He drove up further and parked in a area left of the drawbridge.

"Hello the house" he called out as he got out of the car. There was no immediate response, so he began walking over the moat.

"Halt, Identify yourself, are you friend or foe?"

At this point Ray might have turned and ran away, but he saw the person that had issued the challenge. Unless he was badly mistaken it was the same person that had written and left the Ad. He barely saw the little girl. She looked more like a Pixie and stood at the end of the drawbridge waiting for a reply.

To Ray she looked nine or ten. She acted more like the Queen might have in medieval times. Ray had his reply ready.

"Milady, I am just a homeless knight, come here to do your bidding in exchange for sustenance and a place in the barn to sleep." He reached into his pocket, withdrew the crumpled note and held it out for her to see.

She ran to him like a whirlwind was behind her. She launched herself at him, hugging him close, her tiny legs getting purchase on his hips. "My Prince, I knew you would come!" and began to sob.

Ray did not know what to do or say, so, he held her close and tried to wipe away her tears.

"So my Princess, must I slay a dragon, defeat an Ogre or protect your kingdom from an evil sorcerer?

"Kind Sir, please help us. I have tried but it is too hard for me alone. Come, Mama needs to hear of your quest and give you leave to now protect the Castle."

This kid was really good. I started to think I was really going into a Castle and pixie was a Princess. We entered and that thought now seemed not only real but that there could be no other conclusion.

We went up a winding staircase. How and why a child would take to a complete stranger, trust him to enter her home, excuse me, her castle and seem to have no fear is beyond an adult to understand, yet that is what she did.

We came to a room and entered. There was a very large and ornate four poster bed in the middle of the room. On the bed lay a lady.

"Mama, everything will be fine now, my Prince has come and he will help us."

The frail looking woman could barely rise up. "I, Queen Leslie Rogers bid you welcome. Wilt thou protect this castle, my honour and that of the Princess Daphne with your very life?"

This might have seemed too much, but to me, it was that which had always been missing in my life. I was needed and would have a purpose. I readily said, "My Queen, I swear my fidelity, loyalty and very life to you and the Princess, pledging that no harm shall come to you while I live!"

It seemed to flow, just seemed to come out of my mouth without me thinking. Now I knew their names.