Notes: The characters from Xena Warrior Princess belong to their creators. All other characters and scenarios are mine. Please send comments to dante0220@yahoo.com.


Introduction
[Amazon Village, c. 87 AD]

Gabrielle, Bard Queen of the Amazons, writes….

In the weeks that followed David’s first day at the upper academy known as Amherst High, he acquired confidence in himself. His friends also learned to understand him better. At least most of them were trying to do so….

In this case, the Cadre dug into David’s likes and dislikes, having quite the experience as they did so.


Chapter 1 [A month after “First Day”]

[Town Library]

Dave sat at an old oak table on the second floor, pouring through scads of books. His French Revolution assignment was due the following Monday but he wanted to get a head start on it. If I can get this finished, that’ll leave the weekend open. He smiled, thinking of the road trip that his friends had invited him on. By happenstance, Mr. and Mrs. Alvarez had discussed the idea over coffee with his grandmother. Gram’s wanted to go back to Granville for a while. I have to admit the thought of apples and that cheddar cheese makes my mouth water.

“Hey, Dave,” Adrienne greeted, walking over.

He looked up at her, allowing a smile onto his face. “Hi, Adrienne, what’s going on?”

She shrugged. “Nothing much. Just getting some studying done.”

He replied, “That’s nice.” Is she tailing me? Dang, she’s like the freaking FBI or something. “How’s the paper looking?”

“Oh that,” she noted, dismissing it with a wave of her hand. “I’ll do it Sunday night. No biggie.”

He quirked his eyebrow at her. “No biggie? Adrienne, this is 25% of our grade in that class.”

She giggled, grating his ears with the sound as she did so. “Oh, Dave, you need to relax! It won’t matter anyhow.”

He stared at her again. “Some of us might disagree.”

[“She’s right, Boy,” the ghost chimed in.]

He sighed, gritting his teeth again. Who asked you? Take a hike!

He’s doing the Thing again. Since the mini-episode in the cafeteria on their first day, everyone thought that Dave was strange to say the least. He’s a total freak, all right. I wonder what the others see in him? “You want to hear something?”

Not really but that’s not going to stop her. “Sure.”

“You need help,” she declared.

“Excuse me?” He glared at her.

“You have these fits, which freak the rest of us out! I can see why you hide up here!” she told him.

He could hear the Witch laughing over that comment.

“And why do I hide up here, Mrs. Freud?” he countered testily.

She rolled her eyes. “Because you don’t want people to see what a freak you are! You need a rubber room or something!”

Damn it! He felt the mood tremors starting again. “Adrienne, you have NO idea of what I’ve been through, all right? And it’s too bad that I freak you out. Leave me alone! Some of us are trying to study,” he hissed, trying to keep his voice down. “Later.” He turned his back to her, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of seeing him upset.

“Suit yourself,” she concluded, strolling away.

He sat there for twenty minutes, trying to concentrate on his work. However, her words had cut him down to the core. “She couldn’t stand up to the Horror Show from Hell. How dare she?” he muttered, closing a book and putting all of the works on the reshelving truck. He managed to leave the building and take his pills before the fit hit full stride.

Mr. Graves, the reference librarian, sat down beside him. “David, are you all right?”

The teenager looked at him. “It’s official. Some of my classmates think I’m a freak show. Sorry that I disturbed everyone.”

The older man shook his head. “You didn’t do anything,” he assured the student. “Who said that to you?”

“It’s okay. I can deal with it,” Dave assured the other. “Thank you though for caring enough to ask.”

Mr. Graves frowned. Judging from the fact that only Adrienne Mitchell had come up and down the stairs in the previous forty-five minutes, he knew she was at the bottom of Dave’s situation. “Just tell me one thing, all right?”

“If I can. And this is between us,” Dave insisted.

“All right. Did Adrienne Mitchell call you a freak?” Graves asked.

“She did but I’ve always been a bit strange, I guess,” Dave replied hesitantly, getting up. Looking at his watch, he made an excuse. “Gotta run! My grandmother’s waiting. Thanks, Mr. Graves, see you soon.” With that, he rode away on his bike.

Graves watched the young man ride away. I’ll grant him that he’s a bit odd but he never disturbs anyone here. I’ll talk with Ms. Parsons about this. Nobody deserves to be harassed. Having decided that, he reentered the building, heading for his post.



Chapter 2 [Janet’s House]

Dave skidded to a halt right in front of his grandmother’s house, not wanting to wipe out in her garage. He had ridden quickly across that part of town, trying to deal with his frustrations. “Gram?”

“Dave, why aren’t you at the library?” she asked, wondering what was going on. Feeling the dark mood cloud over his head, she winced. Now what happened?

“I hit a wall,” he told her flatly, slumping into a seat at the kitchen table.

“Not literally I hope,” she declared, looking at him intently. In one of his darker moods, she wouldn’t have put it past him.

“Relax, Gram, I was talking about a mental wall. I had enough of the library for one day,” he assured her.

That comment got her attention. “You had enough of the library? Okay, Dave, what happened?”
When he said nothing, she pressed, “What happened?”

“One of the kids called me a freak,” he revealed. “And that got You Know Who going. Rather than start a fit there, I left and came back here.”

Not for the first time she felt her heart breaking for his situation. The family had tried every kind of therapy but nothing had worked. Given the source of the situation, they weren’t surprised. Still, for him to have the where with all to remove himself from a place before going Pompeii all over was a great improvement. “You know some people won’t understand. Don’t worry about them, all right?”

“I try not to,” he agreed. “But when they…well…corner me, it’s not like I can avoid it.”

“You did the right thing,” she told him.

“Then why do I want to smash her face in?” he growled, giving her the Stare.

She trembled, knowing that he only did that when a full blown lapse was imminent. Remember, Janet, this isn’t his fault. She held him tightly. “It’s okay. Remember we don’t want trouble.”

“I’m trying,” he affirmed, feeling his eyes water.

Then the phone rang. Why now? “Dave, this’ll just take a minute. Hello?”

“Mrs. Dubois, this is Annette Parsons from the library. How are you?” the town librarian asked.

She looked at her grandson and then at the phone. Please don’t let him be in trouble! “I’m all right. David’s not in trouble is he?”

“Absolutely not. We’re concerned about him is all. Edward Graves saw him leaving and hoped he was all right.”

“He’s sitting right here. Do you know what happened?” Janet asked with concern.

“One of his classmates harassed him, Mrs. Dubois. I was two ranges over and heard the whole thing,” Ms. Parsons reported.

Janet turned her back to him, glaring outside. Few things riled her in life. But watching Dave deal with garbage like that topped the list. “His mother and I will want to know who. Ms. Parsons, I don’t want my grandson being harassed when he’s trying to study! Other than the coffee shop and here, the library’s his refuge. I won’t let anyone take it from him.”

“Rest assured; that won’t happen. Any young man that wants to study the way David does will be encouraged to do so. Can I talk with him?” Parsons vowed.

“Okay,” Janet relented, handing him the phone while mouthing, “Keep your cool.”

“Ms. Parsons?” he asked. “Look, I don’t want any trouble.”

“You’re fine. I just wanted to see if you were all right. I’m going to call Adrienne’s parents over this situation. She had no right to say that to you,” Ms. Parsons assured him. “Just so you know, Mr. Graves didn’t say anything other than he was concerned about you.”

“Then how did you find out?” he wondered.

“I overheard the whole thing. I appreciate you trying to keep your voice down. Next time though, do me a favor. Come and get one of us. That’s our job. I’ll let you go. You feel free to study here anytime we’re open, all right? Remember what I just said. Try to have a good night,” she concluded before hanging up.

“It’s going to be okay,” his grandmother told him while hanging up the phone.

“She’s right. I need to stand up for myself here too,” he replied frankly. Taking his box of note cards out of the backpack, he told her, “I need to get back to this. I won’t let one bad thing stop me.” He got up and mixed a glass of iced tea for himself.

“You sure?” she asked, wanting to make sure he was all right.

“Positive. Besides, if I can deal with Her Nastiness, what’s one idiot anyhow?” he told her, trying to convince himself in the process.

She beamed, feeling so proud of him. He never quits. He may mope for a while but he always goes back. “And you want to have the weekend clear too, right?”

He smirked, admitting, “That too.”

She chuckled, “That’s all right, Dave. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.” With that, she left him to his work.



Chapter 3 [Friday—Journalism class]

There was a definite chill in the air during the next day’s journalism class.

Sensing that something was going on, Mrs. Colavitto kept the discussion moving, trying to keep everyone involved and as upbeat as possible. “Your lead assignments were great, everyone. I’ll have them back by Monday. Today, we’re talking about feature stories. Does anyone know what those are?”

April raised her hand. “A story that looks at something?”

“Any news story does that,” Adrienne retorted.

The teacher stared at her, putting two and two together. “Adrienne, after class.”

Why should I be surprised? She groused to herself.

“Sorry, April. Actually you’re right. A feature story analyzes an event, place or person in detail,” Mrs. Colavitto explained. “What would be some items for a feature?” Seeing some hands, she selected one. “Garth?”

“Dave’s getting the drink named after him in Cappuccino Express?” he offered.

Dave put his face in his hands, not wanting any more attention than necessary.

“That’s borderline, Garth. The event is a news story—one that I do want to see in The White Knight. Maybe an in-depth profile on the café or even Dave himself would be a feature story,” she pointed out. “Good idea though.” She looked at her example and asked, “Dave, are you all right?”

“Rough night,” he muttered, looking at her. Besides, you wouldn’t like what you find on me anyhow. “My story’s not worth telling.”

“Cut it out, Dave,” Karen admonished. “I’m sure you have some great stuff you’ve done.”

Figures she’d take his side. Adrienne rolled her eyes.

“For someone who’s so interested in History, I’m surprised at you!” the teacher told him. “I’d like to know more myself about your old town.”

[“Tell ‘er,” the spirit goaded.]

Go fry ice. “It’s an old town. Period. Besides, they don’t really like outsiders,” he pointed out, starting to feel really antsy.

“And why is that?” Adrienne asked.

“They take care of their own,” Dave retorted. “Anyone different sticks out. Nothing really newsworthy about that.”

“I disagree,” Mrs. Colavitto noted, feeling her reporter’s intuition kicking in at that point. What is it? “Don’t get mad, Dave, but my husband and I took a drive up there last weekend. He’s writing a feature on Rowenshire for the Gazette.”

That revelation grabbed Dave’s attention. “Concerning what?”

“It’s for Halloween. The locals tell stories about a haunted house and a curse. I figure it might be good copy,” Mrs. C. supposed. “You ever hear anything like that?”

[“Aye. Why don’t ye bring yer friends by, my dear child?” the Witch taunted him.]

Never! You won’t touch them! He shuddered. “I did more than hear about the story.”

“There is a ghost!” she realized, clapping her hands.

“Mrs. Colavitto, don’t go back there. I don’t want you getting hurt,” Dave warned.

“Hurt by a good ghost story? Dave, come on!” Frank doubted. “How bad can it be?”

Dave shook his head. “I…well…let’s say I know all about the house and the curse. People have been killed on that land, all right?”

[“Now tha’s rude!” the ghost retorted, sending sharp pain between his eyes.]

He spasmed, trying to minimize the effect. “Argh!” He labored to his feet but the room spun on him.

Garth and Steve caught him as he fell.

“His right hand! I knew he was a freak!” Adrienne pointed out.

“Stuff it, Adrienne!” Karen ordered before checking on her friend.

“Go to the Principal’s office!” the teacher directed, pointing the way. After the girl left, she asked, “What’s going on? There is something on his hand.”

Sure enough, the mark glowed there as he shook on the ground.

“Dave, speak to us! What is it?” April requested.

Garth realized, “The haunted house…it was his old house. That’s why he’d never talk about it.”

Mrs. Colavitto put her hands to her mouth, understanding what she had done. “Dear me! I did this.”

Karen looked at the others. “This stays here.”

Dave jerked awake with a start. “S…she’s gone for now.”

“She? The ghost?” April asked.

“Dave, I’m sorry,” Frank apologized.

“It’s not your fault, Frank. My father’s to blame. He built that damn house. Sorry, Mrs. C., about the language.” Dave got back on his feet. “Some stories shouldn’t be aired for public protection.” He composed himself. “You see why I told you not to go there. But we need a story so how about the trip this weekend?”

“You still want to go? Are you up to it?” Steve wondered.

“More than ever,” Dave affirmed. “I’d appreciate it if you could keep this quiet.”

“We will,” the embarrassed teacher agreed.

“Crap! Gram! If that harpy’s hurt her….” he realized, taking off as fast as he could go.

The others stood speechless for a minute, still trying to take in everything they had witnessed.

Finally, Garth told them all, “Dave needs us. Let’s go.”

“All of us,” Mrs. Colavitto agreed, as they rushed out together.




Chapter 4 [Faerie Realms]

Deep within the mists separating worlds, a magical realm lay hidden from the outside. Despite that, the denizens watched events in other realms, interceding rarely yet when needed.

Inside of her Cathedral of Crystal, a slender female observed the events on Outer Earth grimly. A bright light obscured her features save for her dark eyes and long flowing hair. “The ghost’s perfidy knows no bounds!”

Beside her, a tall man with long white hair and a beard watched the events as well. His concerns leaned as heavily on him as he did on his walking staff. “We should have taken the boy as well.”

“No, Grimwilkin,” she disagreed. “He is the One.”

“Are you sure? Already the curse wrecks havoc on him,” he noted with concern. “The darkness takes root.”

“After the ghost is disposed of, he’ll go to Althanor for cleansing. The High Priestess assures me that the girl, Cybelle, is clean now,” she reported.

“He’s alone,” he pointed out.

“I disagree. The other children will support him.” She looked at him earnestly. “I assembled them there for that purpose. They are very loyal and insightful for their age.”

“And if they should encounter that thing?” he wondered.

“You mean when. When David Dubois deals with his nemesis, they shall be close at hand on most of those occasions. The willowy one, however, doesn’t need to know.” She waved her hands, making an image of Adrienne appear in the view portal. “That one will be trouble.” Focusing on the portal, she wiped the memories from the woman’s mind in the outer world. “She no longer remembers.”

“You think the others can handle this challenge?”

“They have no choice. Without them, David will not survive much less prevail. But wait, we have visitors.” The Empress turned to see two human females clad in the green robes of Althanorian priestesses. “Kierna, welcome to you and your novice.”

“Forgive us for disturbing you, Mother,” Kierna apologized, as she and the girl with her kneeled before the duo.

“Your novice’s concern is a worthy matter for an audience,” the Empress assured her guests. Seeing Cybelle’s amazement, she continued, “Concern in a priestess of your limited experience is an admirable trait, Cybellle.”

“You honor me, Mother,” Cybelle expressed. “I felt it happen.”

The wizard looked incredulously at her, arching his eyebrow in surprise. “Did you now?” The link is unusual for one so young. Certainly, she has great talent. All the more reason to watch her brother closely.

“Your brother survived the attack,” the Elf-Queen declared. Turning to Kierna, she asked, “How is she?”

“Cybelle’s untainted if that’s what you mean,” the High Priestess assessed.

“That’s encouraging. We cannot let the witch use David to get at her or his friends,” he stated.

“Friends?” Cybelle wondered. Seeing the others looking at her, she continued, “Sorry. He’s such a loner, always acting strangely and keeping to himself.”

“And why do you think that is?” Kierna inquired. Getting no answer from her novice, she answered, “He’s focused on containing the witch’s power and has been for the past decade. Now when he needs assistance, the Mother sends allies.”

The novice felt her cheeks flush with shame.

“That’s all right,” the Empress interceded. “Still, Cybelle, don’t underestimate your brother’s abilities.”

Cybelle managed a smile both for the Empress’ assurance and her brother’s newfound friends. There are people around him who understand him at last. “We argued but he’s still my brother. I’m sorry to trouble you with my worrying. I want to do something.”

The Empress returned the smile with one of her own. “Never worry about such things, Cybelle. Trust me; once you are full priestess, then you will have your opportunity. Until that day, prepare well. Listen to Pauline.”

“I will. Thank you, Great Mother,” Cybelle replied courteously.

“My thanks as well. I shall relay your observations to Pauline,” Kierna added.

“Please do that. You may return to Althanor with the goddess’ blessing. And, Cybelle, have faith in your brother. He will need your support,” the Empress declared.

The novice nodded silently as she bowed before them.

Kierna summoned the mists and bade, “Come, Cybelle.”

When the priestesses were gone, he noted, “Their link is strong.”

She nodded. “It is not unusual between siblings. This one is more developed than normal, however. You do have a point, Grimwilkin.” She watched the activities in Amherst again. “The young ones surrounding David are especially sensitive as well. That is why I know they will be invaluable in this task. Let us watch.”

With that, she made the view portal change scenes.




Chapter 5 [Janet’s House]

Dave pushed the pedals as hard as he could, weaving his way through the streets until he got to his grandmother’s house. With each circle his legs made, his heart pounded faster. She has to be all right. His head still echoed with the witch’s energy. Skidding to a halt in front of the house, he hurriedly put the bike away and ran in.

Janet stared at him, taking in the wild-eyed look. “Dave, my word! What is it?”

He huffed with exhaustion; the numbness creeping across his head. “Are you…okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she asked anxiously. What’s going on?

He started shaking like a leaf. “Her again. She won’t leave me alone! At least you’re okay!” He grabbed onto her as if he were drowning.

Not again. “I’m fine. Why don’t you lie down for a while?”

He shrugged and walked into the guest bedroom. Much to his own surprise, he fell asleep.

How can he have any normalcy if this keeps happening? She shook her head, wanting to come up with an answer. This may scare off those friends he made. I hope not. He needs them. Hearing a knock at the door, she walked over to it and answered, “Yes?” Seeing an older blonde haired woman with five teenagers, she asked, “Can I help you?”

“Mrs. Dubois? Sorry to disturb you. I’m Mrs. Colavitto, David’s journalism teacher. We were looking for him,” Mrs. Colavitto explained.

“He’s here,” Janet replied. “He’s resting at the moment.”

“Is he all right?” Karen asked. “Sorry, we don’t want to bother you but he rushed out of class, wondering if you were all right.”

“Can we come in?” Garth inquired.

Janet considered the situation. Normally, her response would have been “come back later.” But she knew that the incident had prompted questions requiring answers. She opened the door and invited, “Please come in. I’ll put some coffee on.” Here we go. I hope they can handle it.
 

****

[Ten minutes later]

Janet managed to scrape together a plate of cookies and poured coffee for her guests. Bringing the snacks into the living room, she told them, “Sorry it’s not much. I had hoped the first time I met all of you that I’d have more on hand.”

“This is wonderful, Mrs. Dubois,” April expressed, biting into a homemade cookie. “Thank you.”

The other teens concurred. While their parents did a great deal with them, homemade tollhouse cookies weren’t on the list usually.

“I agree,” the teacher concurred, taking a drink and setting her cup down on the insulated coaster. “We don’t mean to intrude, Mrs. Dubois. We just want to know what’s going on with David.”

The anxious grandmother sighed. “It’s not his doing if that’s what you think.”

“No one said it was,” Mrs. Colavitto assured her. “But what happened in Rowenshire? Who is that ghost?”

“Dave’s our friend. We won’t say anything,” Steve declared.

“I know that,” Janet noted. “It’s just that we don’t know that much ourselves.” She got up and scanned the bookshelf. Finding an old photo album, she pulled it off of the shelf. “I remember the day that my son bought that land. He was so excited about it.” She opened the book, flipping to the page of pictures.

The teens stared at the picture of the old house. “Is that the house? It looks really old.”

“That’s the original house from 1693 or thereabouts, I think. Anyhow, Stuart tore that down and built a modern house in its place. He wanted a dream palace,” Janet recounted.

Seeing Dave as a toddler, Frank guessed, “He doesn’t look happy to be there.”

“Dave has hated that place from the first time he saw it,” Janet lamented.

As they looked at the pictures, the group saw some distorted spots on them. “What’s with the light in the background?”

“We never could tell,” Janet noted.

“Is there really a ghost? The locals have said there is but I chalked it up to superstition,” Mrs. Colavitto mentioned.

“Yes, there is a ghost. I’ve seen her myself. For some reason, she takes special pleasure in torturing Dave. The townspeople blamed him for it.” Janet put her hands over her face. “He doesn’t deserve this.”

“Nobody does,” April concurred, considering nervously what their host had just said.

“Haven’t you tried taking him to a priest?” Frank wondered.

Janet shrugged. “Yes, Frank, we tried that along with every means of conventional and paranormal treatment we could think of.” She laughed ruefully. “They even brought this occult expert up from New York if you can imagine that. He was there for a day and said that there was nothing that could be done.” She recalled the scene in her head, putting it into words for them. “Dave and Cybelle, his sister, begged him to do something. Their grandfather was dying at the time. But that quack commented something about the greater good demanded sacrifices. Better a couple of kids than the whole world or some garbage like that.” She shuddered.

“What is it?” Karen wondered. “What happened?”

“That almost broke Dave. And then a week later, the ghost murdered his grandfather in front of his eyes. That was the turning point,” she revealed. Then she stopped, trying to collect herself. “I…I heard him screaming and got there a minute later. She was already gone, leaving Dave clutching the body. By then, he was in shock but the look on his face….He was so…so…enraged. That’s when the mood swings started.”

“And it’s been war ever since,” Dave added, making his way into the room.

“You seem okay now,” April presumed.

“I may look it but my head’s ringing away,” Dave indicated, sitting down somberly and eating a cookie. “Par for the course.”

“And this happens every day to you?” Frank asked.

“No. Usually it’s when she decides to announce her presence,” Dave noted grimly. “I’m not looking to endanger anyone. If you all want me to leave, I’ll talk to Mom and I’ll see about home schooling or something.”

“I can’t stop you but you’d be making a big mistake,” his teacher asserted. “There’s got to be a way to beat this thing.”

“I don’t know if there is but I’m trying to find it,” Dave retorted frankly. “Meantime, I need to be strong enough to deal with her garbage.”

“Dave, you’re among friends. If you want to open up, you can,” Karen told him.

He shook his head. “That would endanger you all. Trust me. I’ve lost enough to that harpy without any more casualties going on the list.” He glared at the floor, stewing in his juices. “Someday, I’ll deal with her once and for all.”

“And you still want to go on that trip?” his grandmother wondered, eager to change the subject.

“I do. I need it,” Dave affirmed.

The others looked at each other, admiring the show of strength that their friend was putting on for their benefit.

“My folks are looking forward to the trip too. But you’re sure you want to deal with this tomorrow?” Karen inquired with concern.

“Being with all of you is the best medicine I could want,” Dave told them.

“As if we’d let you down,” Garth declared.

“Not a chance,” Steve added.

“Absolutely not,” April interjected.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Karen told him firmly.

“It’s unanimous. Face it, Chief, you’re outvoted,” Steve concluded.

Janet dabbed the handkerchief at her eyes, feeling happy at their show of support. They’re what Dave needed all right. Stay with him.
 

Chapter 6 [Next Morning—Janet’s House]

Dave sat at the kitchen table, double checking all of the details for the day’s events. In two hours, the group would meet there. After getting their bearings and fueling up, they would head west to Northampton and then south toward Granville. After yesterday, I think we can all stand a little fun.

“What’s it looking like?” his grandmother asked.

“The usual: we have apples, crafts, cider and that yummy cheese,” he declared, grinning at her.

“Can’t forget about the apples and cheese, can we?” she teased, knowing that he would give her a dirty look. “You will enjoy yourself today, right?”

“Right,” he agreed.

“Okay, I wanted to hear you say it,” she stated, hearing a knock at the door.

“This isn’t just for me, Gram,” he retorted. “We all need some fun. Besides, I want to get to know the Alvarezes a little better.”

“Sounds good to us,” Karen concurred, while coming into the house with her parents. “Dave, you know my Mom. This is my Dad.”

“Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Alvarez,” Dave greeted, shaking their hands.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Mr. Alvarez declared. He smiled. “Jeannie, you were right.”

“He looks like Sarah’s father, doesn’t he?” his wife concurred.

Good thing Stuart didn’t hear that. He’d have a fit. “Are we ready for the road?” Janet asked.

“Everyone’s here. We’re going to fuel up the van. You’re leading the way, Janet,” Karen’s father replied.

“My co-pilot’s going over the route now with Karen,” Janet noted, eyeing her grandson.

When the three adults were watching, Dave surmised, “I figure we take Route 9 to Northampton, and head south. We can either do the interstate to Springfield and follow Route 57 out there or go Route 10 to Westfield and pick up 57 there. Your choice.”

“I say we go the second way,” Jeannie indicated.

“Fall foliage gets the vote,” Ricardo, her husband, concurred.

“As long as you direct me through it, Dave, I can handle it,” his grandmother agreed.

“I can do that,” Dave agreed, while washing his cup out and putting it away. Then he put his jacket on. “Let’s go. Time’s a wasting.”

“You think so, do you?” Karen teased.

He arched his eyebrow. “Unless you want to stay here, it’s a sunny day, just a little crispness in the air and I’m feeling the call of the apple.”

Karen grinned at him. It’s good to see him like this. “Lead on then. I wouldn’t want to deprive the apples for your presence, Dave.”

“Just wait until we get there. I think you’ll see what I mean,” he countered with a bit of mirth.

After making sure everything was off, the adults and the two teens got in their respective vehicles and the mini-convoy hit the road.


****

[Three Hours later—Granville Town Center]

Dave’s directions were right on target, as he and his grandmother hit the routes perfectly. As they drove, the group admired the autumn colors and the decorations patterned on harvest and Halloween motifs. About halfway, they stopped for coffee and to confirm their path but that was more to stretch than anything else.

Finally, they drove into the town center, admiring the general store and the church. Admittedly, the traffic was heavier than they might have expected. However, they still found spots in the grassy field behind the elementary school.

“This is going to make quite a story,” April declared, looking around at the place.

“Remember, the object here is relaxation,” Jeannie reminded them.

“Yes, Mom,” Karen concurred.

“Come on, everyone,” Janet indicated, waving at the group. “Craft exhibits are this way.”

****

The afternoon flew by between the various activities up there. After they saw the crafts, the group took in the general store and its wares. Then they went up the hill to the apple orchard.

“So do we buy a bag of apples?” Charles, Karen’s younger brother, wondered.

“We could,” Dave indicated. “I prefer to pick my own, however.” He paid the man for two bags.

Moving a bag of “seconds”—slightly bruised apples—off to the side, the owner, a heavy set man with a black mustache and a balding head, told him, “I’ll keep these here until you get back. Have fun.”

“Don’t get lost, Dave,” Janet teased.

“And if I do?” he retorted. “At least, I’ll have plenty to eat. I never get sick of good Macs.”

His grandmother looked at her counterparts and shook her head. “He really means that. I’ve never seen anyone who can put apples away and not get sick like Dave.”

“We’ll have to put that to the test,” Garth interjected.

“You can try,” Dave shot back, refusing to back down from a challenge. “Come on, follow me.”

His classmates followed him into the orchard. After Dave showed them the art of discerning the ripe apple, they fanned out, each searching the trees for the desired fruit. As they went along, they told jokes, laughed, teased each other and enjoyed that hour.

Finally, they returned to the stand, presenting the full bag for inspection.

“You’ve done this before,” the cashier noted, inspecting the apples.

“A few times,” Dave admitted. “I was wondering if you had any cider on hand?”

The worker grimaced. “You’re not going to believe this but our press operator just quit. Don’t tell me you know how to do that too?”

“I’ve watched cider and maple syrup being made. I’m willing to learn if someone can teach me.”

“All right. You can each take a turn. How’s that? If it’s okay with your parents that is,” the owner offered. He motioned to a female clerk to take his place.

“As long as we’re watching, all right,” Ricardo agreed.

“Sounds good,” Janet concurred.

“All right!” Dave cheered, picking up the bag of “seconds”.

“Follow me,” the owner indicated, leading them toward the next building. Inside, they saw a giant wooden vat and a post with handles coming out of it. “This is it. Just walk forward while holding the handle. The press squashes the apples, filters out the pulp and seeds and gives us the cider. “You have the bag, young man?”

“Yes, sir,” Dave indicated, handing it over.

“Very good.” The owner poured the apples into the vat. Then he added a few more bags’ worth. “Ready? It’s a two person job.”

“Who wants to help?” Dave asked, taking his position by the handle.

The others looked at each other before Karen stepped forward. “I’ll give it a shot.”

“Take the handle right behind him,” the owner indicated.

“Taking up the rear, are we?” Dave cracked.

“You wish,” Karen retorted. “This is an equal effort. Move it, Hotshot.”