Chapter 2

In the morning Susan awoke to her alarm. She slapped at it and stretched. Smiling to herself. She felt a curious feeling of sensuality. With a start she realized that she was naked in her bed. She rolled around a bit and savored the feeling of the sheets, sensual against her skin. She decided then and there that she would sleep this way from then on. She sat up and caught her reflection in the mirror. She looked sexy, she thought. A feeling inside her drove her to pull on the discarded nightshirt and find her way to the bathroom to begin her day.

Jane awoke. She was no longer face down in her bed. She rolled around and stretched like a cat, feeling the sensual feeling of the satin sheets sliding over her body. Her eyes were drawn to the reflected image in the ceiling mirror. Down below her was a sapphire blue light that illuminated a shaft which pointed upwards between her shapely legs. This triggered the memory of the dream. Jane was at once troubled and elated. The dream was like an old friend. It had never changed before. She knew enough psychology to know what it implied. Something drastic had changed in her life. She had transferred the image of her younger self to Susan, while taking the role of her mother. The meeting with the girl the day before had more of an effect upon her than she would ever have guessed it could have. She was falling in love, deeply in love with the girl. It scared her quite badly.

She sat up and used a towel to grasp the warm phallus. In the bathroom she urinated as she held the phallus in her hands, then she lovingly cleaned and sanitized it. Careful not to expose it to any serious temperature shifts. Finally she kissed it lovingly and replaced it in it's holder in the cabinet. She drew a small curtain and closed the door, locking it with a small brass key on a fine, light chain, which she returned to her neck.

In the kitchen she retrieved a mug of fresh brewed coffee from her automatic drip machine. She carried it to the bath as she began her day, not much different than any other, except that today she knew fear. She feared Susan and the feelings she was now aware that the young blonde girl could instill in her. It troubled her deeply as she bathed and later dressed.

Jane found herself preoccupied as she made up the bed. Her mind picturing the young blonde woman nude upon the satin sheets. The image stayed with her all day, it was disturbing. Perhaps she was the one. She had to be sure. The Sisterhood was no joke. Neither was the rod a simple phallic symbol or sexual toy.

It had been in her research for her masters degree that she had stumbled upon the reference to the ancient manuscript. At first she thought it was a quaint folk tale.

The reference referred to a book long hidden in an unknown world. A book which contained the long hidden secrets of something called "The Sisterhood". It only dawned on her long after her research, that the unknown world, could have been America, and not far from her then home in Pacific Grove. She began a computer search. Feeding terrain information into a data base from the descriptions in the reference. Some of them were woefully indescriptive; "Travel along the coast for four days journey beyond the tree from the rock. Keeping always the afternoon sun to your left. There in the land of giant trees, seek ye a stream and follow it to it's mouth where it spills from the earth."

The only tree from the rock she knew of, was the Lone Cypress that grew along the Seventeen Mile Drive. North of Carmel by the Sea, but South of Pacific Grove.

But that couldn't have been the reference from the book. The book referred to something hidden in the days of the Greeks. Cypress trees didn't live that long. The Lone Cypress was a recent phenomena. Or was it?

She contacted some friends of hers who were Botanists. Inquiring into the age of the most photographed tree on the West coast.

"Damned if we know. The folks who control the association won't let us near the damn thing. They act as if it was a sacred religious artifact or something. But I caught a whiff of a rumor that it had been replanted many, many times. When one dies out from old age, another is lovingly transplanted in it's place. Seems like a lot of trouble to maintain a tourist attraction. I got the feeling that it was an old Indian shrine." her friend had informed her.

This changed her view of the Lone Cypress quite a bit. From there she took to walking along the shoreline. The distance varied drastically depending on where she walked. Travel upon roads made things much easier. She took to walking the hills and beaches along the coastline, using a GPS receiver to average her outings. After a month of random traveling along the rugged coastlines and through the wooded areas, she arrived at what she felt was a fair average for a foot traveler in ancient times. She multiplied this by four and drew an arc along the coastline North of the Lone Cypress. This put her in the mountain range behind Santa Cruz. The "Land of the giant trees" was undoubtedly the area around Felton, where the giant Sequoia trees lived.

Jane took to long field trips into the area. She had to call in lots of favors to get permission to camp in much of the area. Her position as a psychologist hardly qualified her as an archeologist or a sociologist. Still, she managed to obtain permission for her treks based upon the guise of searching for old ritual locations. Based upon the promise that if she found any such locations she would report them to the real archeologists and sociologists at Berkeley, and not touch anything before she did.