It’s summer vacation, and all seventeen-year-old Tori Logan wants to do is hang out with her two best friends, practice her mixed martial arts and go to FBI spy camp.  Summer means freedom (mostly from adults) and Tori plans to fill every spare moment of her last summer before graduating from High School with all the fun things she and her best pals can come up with.

Tori, whose mom died of breast cancer when she was young, has always relied on her own strength to get by - especially because her Archeologist father tends to leave her behind with his live-in girlfriend while he gallivants around the world on digs.  Thankfully, Tori can take care of herself.  She knows exactly who she is and what she wants to do with her life. Her Lakota Sioux grandfather, a former Navy SEAL, trained Tori in self-defense from a young age.  Now, as a teenager, Tori excels at mixed martial arts and the use of various weapons.  During the summer she will be attending an FBI sponsored Summer Camp which she hopes will lead to her dream job – becoming an FBI serial killer profiler.

With her two best friends at her side, Tori believes she can handle anything.  And with summer vacation stretching before them, the trio plans to find plenty of adventure.

But while Tori is determined to be independent, life has other plans for this fierce young teen, and they include coming to grips with some hard - and surprising - truths about both her past and her future

           “I gotta go,” Tori said.

            “I was thinking that for the first day of summer vacation maybe we could do something as a family,” Rachael faintly smiled.  “When you dad wakes up…”

            “Dad got home late and won’t be waking up until 4, by then it’ll almost be time for the bar-b-que so I’ll see you guys anyway.”  Tori was talking and backing out of the kitchen.

            “Then maybe you and I…” Rachael started but Tori cut her off.

            “Look, you’re my dad’s girlfriend not my mom, we don’t have to hang. I gotta jet.  I’m meeting AJ at Kalea’s.” And with that Tori bounded out of the kitchen and ran towards the front door.

            Rachael sighed shaking her head.  “How long?” she whispered.

After a whirl-wind courtship Rachael Cleary moved in with the handsome and debonair Fletcher Edmond Logan, a renowned archeologist who made his millions searching for and finding underwater treasure.   He was young, tall, tanned and handsome - an energetic wanderer.  When they met in Florence Italy Rachael was doing advanced studies there; clay sculpturing at The Accademia Europea di Frene. It was her last year of college and she was doing it abroad.  Fletcher was co-sponsoring a dig at the Poggio Colla site which was approximately 20 miles away from her campus.

            The two were introduced through a mutual friend and by summer’s end they had decided to move in together.  Yet there was a hitch – Fletcher had an eight year old daughter.  His wife had died a little over a year before from breast cancer and Tori was the sole product of this union – between a half-blooded Sioux mother and a British Norwegian father.

            Tori was as feral as a Scottish Wildcat and appeared to have inherited the warrior traits from both her Viking and Lakota heritages.  She would frequently be found running around barefoot, swinging from trees or any other high object she could find.  She was as stubborn as a billy goat and whenever she wanted to dismiss an adult or any authority for that matter, she would suddenly stop speaking English and switch over to responding in any one of the several languages she’d learned during her globe-trotting with her father from one country to the next.  From her mother’s Sioux side she had the longest, thickest black hair which was always hanging free and trailing unkempt behind her like a mad dark wave.

            Rachael was a tender 24 years of age when she first met Fletcher, a man who despite his youthful appearance was 11 years her senior.  Despite his wild half-breed daughter Rachael found herself hopelessly smitten with the man. 

Tori jumped on her favorite mode of transportation, a 1950 MV Agusta CSL scooter and powered down the drive to the high gated fence.  She pressed a button on a sterling silver gray pad containing controls that opened the gate to their home enabling her to quickly roar through it.

            “If I miss this...” Tori muttered to herself as she sped down the road to Kalea’s house.

            If Fin was there to pick her up the gate would already be open.  If not, she’d have to ring the bell to get buzzed in.  Almost there she saw that the gate was in fact open.  Excellent, she thought smiling.  She could zoom right in without slowing down.

I could really use a belt. Fin thought as he jumped from the porch, bounding over the five steps.  Running down the graveled drive at break-neck speed he cursed the fact he was wearing tennis shoes - that along with the baggy, beltless pants was hemming up his stride.

            The sound of shrieks and a male voice yelling at him in a foreign language didn’t help the matter.  Fin tripped over his own size 12 feet, rolled and got up running.  After gathering his wits about him he heard a muffled roar zoom past him followed by a streak of green.  He was unsure of what it was but he was too scared to try to figure it out – he was running now – minus the jeans and a tennis shoe.

            Fin all but dove into his Camaro thankful he’d left the keys in the ignition and not in his pants pocket.  He turned the key and sped down the drive, kicking dirt and gravel in his wake.  In his rear-view mirror he could see the crazy man chasing him with the longest, sharpest sword he’d ever seen.

            Making it to the end of the drive, Fin did a complete donut, spun the vehicle around in the right direction and then tore off down the street.  Tori had grabbed his errant shoe and AJ leaned down to scoop up the jeans, then the two of them tore down the drive after Fin.

            Kale Kinimaka stomped angrily up the drive to the house.  “You get in the house!” he yelled as his daughter Kalea was climbing onto her own scooter, a 1960s era Vespa 90SS, refurbished in a shiny hot pink.

            “Daddy!  We were just going to the Observatory,” she whined.

            “In the house!” he ordered.  Kalea shoved the scooter to the side and stomped past her mother.

            “I hope you realize you’re hampering the exploration of knowledge!” she cried over her shoulder.  Disappearing down the hall, a door slammed in the distance.

            “Oh Kale,”  Pualani shook her head.

            “Surely you’re kidding me Loni,” Kale waved the sword toward the door.  “Some boy comes to pick up my daughter and his pants are halfway down his butt?!  Then he’s driving my only child away in some car and he’s already half out of his clothes!  At the door!  And how old is he anyway!”  Kale stomped and sputtered, swearing in Hawaiian.

            “Will you put that thing away before you cut yourself?” Pualani said.  Kale looked at the exquisite sword forgetting it was in his hand.  The Katana had been given to him by his father who received it from his father before him, and so on all the way back to the original owner – a Japanese Samurai.  The long slightly curved sword had long been regarded by the Kinimaka family as a symbol of strength and peace.  It was said to bring protection to the home of its owner and now this weapon of warriors hung above the mantle over the fireplace in the living room.

            Kale placed the sword back in the cast iron dragon fixtures attached to the stone hearth.  Protection and Peace.  It had brought little peace to him and Pualani, he thought.  Being raised Catholic neither of them believed in divorce yet staying together was hurting their daughter Kalea.  The arguing, shouting, the icy stares and deafening silence had caused their brilliant daughter’s grades to plummet.  She began having nightmares and stopped eating.  Her already slim frame had nose-dived to an unhealthy 90 pounds before the two of them decided for the sake of their daughter they could no longer share the same home.  It was agreed that Pualani and Kalea would live in the home while Kale moved out to live with his younger brother Makani at the family-owned winery.  Kalea was 11 at the time.  This had been their way for the past three years and it seemed to be working.

            Kalea gained back the lost weight and was healthy.  She was excelling in school and was happy and laughing again.  Though Kale and Pualani were no longer living under the same roof, Kale was often in the home and Kalea would spend the weekends visiting the winery.

“My crazy father.” she lamented before allowing the thought to flitter away.  Kalea knew she really did have the best of both worlds.   She’d known kids whose parents divorced and as a result they had to move out of their home and away from their school and friends.  She couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her home.  Her grandpa Takehiro had designed their house bringing together both their Hawaiian and Japanese heritages.  Although she hated leaving Hawaii, the new house more than made up for it.   Yes, her dad could be a stuck-in-ancient times ogre, but he meant well and she knew he loved her.

        Rolling over on her back Kalea fished her cell phone from her pocket and dialed her best friend and big sister Tori.

Tori and AJ were speeding behind Fin and his Camaro.  Fin slowed enough to allow the main gates of the luxurious subdivision to open then he peeled out into the street.  The guard on duty waved as they sped by.  Then he leaned out the doorway of the stone-mason guardhouse a bit.  He could swear Tori was waving a giant tennis shoe in the air while AJ was waving a pair of jeans.  They were whooping and yelling appearing to be in hot pursuit of the Camaro.

            “This is going to be a long summer,” he muttered as he closed the gate.

            Fin sped down the street and didn’t stop until he reached “The Main,” what most people called Hacienda Drive.  It was right off Old Stone Road, the only road leading in and out of Vigne Valley Crest, an international gated community in an affluent section of Napa.

            Vigne (veen-ya) was labeled ‘International’ because the 20 homes built on a flat 45 acre mesa each had their own distinctive flair.  The homes were a designer’s cornucopia of Ultra-Modern, Italian, European and Japanese architecture.  Each home sat on a two acre plot, except for Tori’s home which was on three acres, and each had its own gated drive.

Tori and AJ caught up with Fin at Vin de Garde Place, a high end strip mall right on The Main.

            Fin was breathing so hard you would’ve thought he ran all the way from Kalea’s to the parking lot on the Jumba Juice end of the strip.  Tori and AJ pulled their scooters alongside the haphazardly parked vehicle.

            Tori tossed the tennis shoe in the back of the Camaro and disappeared inside Jumba’s before returning a few minutes later with three Crisp Apple energy drinks.  Fin was standing outside the car, yelling and gesturing wildly, reenacting the whole scene in his boxers.  His long blond streaked hair was flying all over the place, the peach fuzz of a mustache and sparse facial hair making him look younger.  The sight of him standing there near hysterics in bright orange boxers doubled Tori over with laughter.

            “What the heck was that about!  Her old man is nuts!”

            “He’s kinda over-protective,” AJ said.

            “Over-protective?” Fin said still gasping for air.

            Tori came up beside them and passed around the drinks.  Fin popped the top and threw the can back.  He practically drained the contents in two swigs.  He let out a loud belch, took two deep breaths and seemed to settle down.  Finishing the can he tossed it in the back of the Camaro, next to his jeans.

            “That’s what I get for diggin’ on a brainiac.”  Tori and AJ both chuckled as they continued drinking.  Fin walked to the rear of the Camaro, popped the trunk and leaned over, fishing around the mess of clothes and swim gear looking for a pair of shorts.

            “I wore pants man,” he said throwing up his hands.  “She’s sweet and all but her old man is loony.  Too much drama.”  And just that quickly he switched gears.  “I’m headin’ over to Jake’s, what about y’all?”

            Jake’s Big Surf Water Park Mania was a full acre of manic fun – slides, mega slides and more slides.  The draw for Fin was the boogie boarding.

            “We’ll take a pass man,” AJ said.  “Maybe we’ll catch you later in the week.”

            “Chow brudda.”  He and AJ slapped hands into a shake and bumped chests.  “Chow dudette.”  Tori nodded and waved.  Fin jumped into the car, backed out and was gone.

            “Was that crazed or what?” Tori smiled.

            “Totally nuts.” AJ laughed.  “That dude ran clear out of his pants and one shoe.”  They both laughed.

            “And I almost missed it.” Tori was serious now.

            “What happened?”

            “Got hung up with Rachael.  The first day of summer vacation and she’s trying to play the mother bit.  ‘Why don’t we do something as a family?’” Tori mocked.

            “Well she is sorta like your mother,” AJ said.  Tori gave him a look of complete and total disbelief.  “I’m sayin’ sorta kinda.” he explained.

            “You’re on drugs, sorta kinda nothing.  Wachiwi Eaglewolf is my mom and will always be my one and only mom.”

            “Hey I know, but who’s to say Rachael can’t be like a step-mom or something?”

            “I’m sayin’ that’s who’s sayin’.  Look, your whole reality’s different because you never knew your real parents.  Biological parents,” Tori was quick to add before AJ went off.

            “All you know is the Sarge and your mom.  These people showed up at some kid orphan home and picked you.  Rachel didn’t pick me – she picked my dad so let’s not get it twisted.  I’m the luggage that was in the trunk.”  She turned and threw the empty can with laser force toward a nearby trash can.  It hit the side and ricocheted in.

            “Luggage in the trunk” was a term she’d used more than once with AJ.  It was the best way she could think of to explain how she felt about her position in the whole “living together” thing.

        Nobody asked her how she felt about it.  One minute it was just her and her dad, and the next thing she knew they were flying home with a stranger.  Rachael was as white as could be. Short unruly red hair that looked closer to orange half the time and lily white freckled skin.  She burned if you stared at her too long.

            Tori felt she didn’t look like anyone in this little family unit.  Her eyes, neither favoring her mother or dad, were a light brown that seemed to have shiny flecks in them.  Being part Sioux her skin was a natural reddish smooth tan.

            Tori tolerated Rachael and it had taken nearly six years to even get there.  Prior to that Tori had previously lived in open hostility to the woman who dared try to replace her mom in her dad’s heart and in her life.

            All 5’8 of her was pacing back and forth in front of AJ without looking up at him.  She was caught up in some thought powered by her previous statement.

            “Look, I know I’m not the Sarge and Fran’s real-life blood kid,”   AJ said.

            “Wait, I…”  AJ waved her off.

            “But I am their real life ‘they love me’ kid.  And though I don’t look like either of them they’re my parents.  I’m a part of them because I want to be – and they’re a part of me because they want this, and that’s why it works.  Rachael wants it to work with the two of you and before you start, I think it stopped being just about her and your dad years ago.  I think she genuinely likes you and cares about you now.”

            Tori looked at him as if he were crazy.

            “And I bet you believe everything you’re saying,” she said.  He laughed.

            “Just keep believing Toto, we’ll make it to that fairytale land one day.”  She climbed onto the scooter and slid the half helmet onto her head.  AJ climbed on his scooter and snapped the WWII German-styled helmet onto his head.   Right then Tori’s cell rang.

            “It’s Kalea.  Hey Kiki.”  Tori said into the phone.  “He’s fine, he just had the crap scared out of him.  Don’t want to be the one to break it to you squirt, but I think the relationship is over before it began.  Yeah, we’re on our way.  Chow mein.”

            She slid the iPhone into the inside pocket of the one of many Indian vests she owned.  She wore the buckskin vest over a plain white t-shirt and this would be her signature look for the remainder of the summer.  Both she and AJ slid a pair of Maui Jim Stingray sunglasses on and pulled out of the lot and onto the street.

            Tori’s dad presented her with her first car on her 17th birthday, some 2 months ago.  She’d taken the flaming red BMW convertible around the block for a spin, much to her dad’s glee and she’s barely driven it since.  The truth was she preferred her scooter for tooling around the neighborhood.  As for AJ, he was riding his personal favorite – the Sachs MadAss 125, a German scooter that looked like a sun-yellow motorcycle.  AJ had it modified by raising the overall height 6 inches to better accommodate his 6’1 frame and to take some of the bend out of his prosthetic leg.  When he wasn’t on the scooter he was driving his baby, a 1999 Cadillac DeVille convertible.

            AJ had seen the car featured on a car show when he was just eight years old.  That was the year he almost died. He had osteosarcoma; a type of bone cancer.  After the cancer spread to the nerves and blood vessels in his leg it was amputated to save his life.  He carried on so about the car that his dad searched high and low until he found one.  He made a project out of restoring it; AJ and his dad, and eventually Tori, spent years putting life back into that old wasted heap.  Whenever things got bad and the pain worsened AJ would go out to the garage and work on the car.  Putting life into that old wreck saved AJ as much as all the different medications he was taking.   The car was now a beautiful well cared for classic.

Tori and AJ sat outside while Tori texted Kalea, querying if it was really safe to come in.  At that moment the door flung open and Kale Kinimaka was standing there.

            “Well don’t just sit out there like a couple of bums, get in here.”

            Kale turned and walked away.  At 5’9 he looked like he’d just stepped out of a martial arts movie.  Slim and buffed he had black hair and black eyes. A mustache and a thin beard lined his chin.  He had 101 scowls and frowns each scarier than the previous one, yet he was fiercely loyal, protective and loving.

            Tori and AJ climbed off their scooters and followed him into the house.

            “Hey squirt,” Tori smiled, she and Kalea hugged.  The pair followed Kalea toward her bedroom.

            “Do you really think he’s not coming back?” Kalea asked.  Tori glanced over at AJ, waiting to see if he’d speak up.  AJ flopped down on the loveseat, propping his leg over the sofa’s arm, pretending not to be paying attention.

            “I wouldn’t hold out much hope,” Tori finally answered.  “He thinks your pop’s a case.”

            “He is a case!” Kalea pouted.

            “Well at least this one got all the way up to the porch,” AJ said.  “He was practically in the house.”

            “And then he was running down the drive in his boxers wearing one shoe,” Tori smiled.  AJ cracked a smile and then they were all laughing.

            “I thought he was gonna ram the gate trying to get out,” AJ laughed.

            “I heard mama on the phone telling Buster to open the gate to let him out,” Kalea said.  The guard’s name wasn’t Buster, it was actually something quite normal but Tori started calling him Buster for some reason and it stuck.

            “Look Kiki, your pops is your pops,” Tori said.  “He’s not gonna like any guy coming around here.”

            “Especially one with a car,” AJ piped in.

            “And keep in mind you’re only 14,” Tori said.

            “Kiki, your pops has been weirded-out ever since you started at the Academy.  Whoever heard of an 11 year old kid starting high school while everybody else in your class is 14-15?”

            “Kid, you’re lucky we talked to you.” AJ shared.

            “But you were so cute in your big glasses and little cherub face,” Tori teased.

            “And remember how she wouldn’t shut up about outer space,” AJ said.  “NASA, NASA, NASA.”  AJ and Tori laughed.  “If you were a guy you would’ve definitely gotten stuffed in a locker.”

            Kalea joined in the laughter.  She remembered her first scary days at Shasta Vista Academy.  Even the freshmen looked like grown adults to her.  Everything was dauntingly over the top – home room, lunch, even gym.  Any class that didn’t meld into academics the second after the bell rung was problematic for her and the dead air seemed to turn all eyes and attention to her by default.  Curious stares, whispers, even giggles.  Yet she met Tori and AJ on one of those awkward days.  It was midday and she felt absolutely lost and different in the lunchroom.  She remembered standing there with her tray of food and a loaded down backpack, looking for a lone table.  As she was looking around she heard someone calling  -

        “Yo squirt.”  It was Tori and she was sitting with AJ.   “C’mere.”

            Pensively Kalea approached and just stood there waiting for one or the other to say something to embarrass her.

            “Well sit down,” Tori told her.  AJ pushed out a chair with his foot and she did a double take when she saw he was wearing a prosthetic leg that had a tattoo of a dolphin on a surf board riding a sea blue wave.

            “That’s an Atlantic Humpback Dolphin,” Kalea said.  “They’re indigenous to the coast of Africa and India all the way down to Australia.  Their diet consists mostly of mullet and other fish and they’re considered an endangered species.”

            Both Tori and AJ erupted in laughter and they’ve been fast friends ever since.  Tori and AJ were both 15 at the time.

            As for Tori and AJ, they met when they were both eight years old.  Tori had been back in the U.S. for only a short time and was spending a long visit with her grandparents.  Her grandfather, Chankoowashtay ‘Bo’ Eaglewolf, and her grandmother Louise had taken her to a Veteran’s Day celebration at the Mashantucket Pequot Museum and Research Center in Mashantucket, Connecticut.  The celebration was given by the Mashantucket Indians to honor the contribution of Native American Soldiers to America’s various wars.  Grandpa Bo was a full-blooded Sioux, and her grandmother Louise was African-American.  The only child of this union was Tori’s mother.

            Tori was intrigued by the fact that AJ was an eight year old kid with a fake leg.  Her grandmother was horrified at the personal, intrusive questions Tori was asking and she put her foot down when Tori asked him to take his leg off so she could see his stump.

            AJ’s dad laughed out loud, slapped him on the back and ordered,

            “Take it off boy.”  And he did.  Grandma Louise gasped,  threw up her hands and rushed off to find Bo while Tori was thoroughly impressed and entertained by the fact AJ could turn and balance and hop around on one leg.  Off they ultimately went to explore the Museum with AJ toting his prosthetic across his shoulder.  They’d been fast friends ever since.

            “Listen Kiki,” Tori said a bit seriously.  “Fin isn’t necessarily the swiftest boggie board on the rack you know.”

            “I know, but he liked the observatory just like me,” Kalea said.

            “He’s a knuckle-head who wants to be a surfer when he grows up,” AJ said. “I don’t think that’s the kind of guy your dad wants you hanging out with.”

            “Well, Kiki will be working for NASA.” Tori offered.  “If they get married she can bring home the fat paycheck and Fin can stay home with the kids.”

            “Kids!” AJ shouted.  “Little Fins?  Now I’ve heard it all.“  He pushed himself off the loveseat and stood.  “I think I smell food.”

            “Me too,” Tori said climbing out of the beanbag.  They started toward the door.  “Don’t forget your phone Kiki, we need to co-ordinate.”

Kalea’s dad had hotdogs, Italian sausage, burgers, shish kabobs and smoky cuts of salmon on the grill. Kalea’s mom was tossing together her famous pineapple Hawaiian salad, spooning the yogurt fruit concoction into the hollowed out pineapple shell halves.  They were on the outside patio deck, in the backyard which extended nearly the entire length of the house.

            “Just in time to set the table,” Pualani said.  “Set the table for nine.”

            As an older version of Kalea she was wearing a checkered apron that matched Kale’s.  “Sweetie, put out a tablecloth,” Pualani added.  Placing the tray of glasses down, Kalea grabbed a bright lime and yellow colored tablecloth from the buffet.

            The trio had the outside table clothed and set by the time the parents were arriving.  AJ’s parents – Stuart and Fran Reynolds arrived first, then Tori’s dad Fletcher and Rachael.  Not only had the trio become best friends over the years, their parents had done the same.

            Kalea, Tori and AJ had taken their usual places across from the deck on the other side of the outdoor pool.  They were stretched out on thickly padded wicker chaise lounges.

            The parents were gathered on the other side of the pool, in the spacious patio kitchen area.  They were chatting amicably while placing bowls of food on the long marble table.  Customarily the adults took the space at the head of the table and the teens sat at the end so each group could better indulge in their own conversations.

            Pualani removed food from the outdoor refrigerator, while Fran filled a bowl with ice from the ice machine.  Off to the side of the eating area were comfy plush chairs facing an outdoor fireplace.  To the side and over a bit was a stone fire pit.  The bamboo overhang was fitted with skylights and there were two 50 inch TVs, one closer to the kitchen area suspended from the ceiling and the other at the end of the patio.

            “This summer is gonna be tore off the chain.” AJ smiled.  “We’re only gonna be home, like what, seven weeks?”

            “Whoo-hoo!” Kalea shouted.  “I’m going to Space Camp!”

            “Space Camp?  I’m going to Pixar Camp!” AJ shouted out.  “No comparison baby girl.”

            “Are you guys on drugs?” Tori sat up swinging her feet onto the deck.  “I’m going to FBI Agent Training Camp,” she stood, arms in the air.  “Please don’t even try to pretend Space Camp or learning how to draw cartoons camp is even in the same league, surely everybody’s jesting.”

            “You’re crazy!” Kalea yelled.  “I’m going into outer space!”

            Tori and AJ erupted in laughter.

            “You’re not going into space, crazy, you’re going to camp.” Tori smiled.

            “Well, I’m going to be in simulated space.” Kalea clarified sheepishly.

            “I think you should go into real space,” AJ said winking at Tori and coming to his feet.

            “Me too.” Tori agreed.  They were on her in seconds, AJ grabbing her arms and Tori her feet.  They swung her back and forth with Kalea screaming gleefully.  The noise finally attracted the attention of the adults on the other side.

            “Kids, we’re going to be eating soon,” Pualani called.  “Don’t get…”  with a big heave-ho they flung Kalea into the pool.  The pair ducked as the water splashed up and over their heads.  Thankfully the pool was a safe distance from the kitchen patio area.

            Kalea surfaced laughing and AJ took the opportunity to grab Tori while her back was turned.  He was able to lift her off her feet before she realized it.  Though he was taller and out-weighed her, Tori was taut, muscular and a mixed martial arts aficionado.  She didn’t just know “some” stuff, she knew a whole lot of stuff.  Had it been anyone other than AJ she would have flipped the scenario around by now and had them on the ground in a rear naked chokehold.

            “AJ don’t get that leg wet!” his mom called out.   AJ had a specially made prosthetic that was water resistant, but he wasn’t wearing it.  That’s the only reason why Tori let him throw her in the pool without a real fight.  In one swift movement AJ unhooked the prosthetic and dove into the water behind her.  The trio erupted in laughter, splashing with the noisy abandon of a group of kids who didn’t have a care in the world.

            The parents had to laugh themselves.

            “Goodness, were we ever that noisy?” Pualani asked.

            “Were we ever that free?” Rachael asked wistfully.

            “I was already working three jobs when I was their age,” Kale said, checking the meat.  “What was there to laugh about?  I put away the books and put on an apron.”

            “I’m with Kale,” Stuart said.  “I worked in my uncle Charlie’s Auto Shop summers, and if I wanted any personal pocket money, I mowed lawns and worked on my buddies’ cars on the side.”

            “Ten minutes and food’s on!” Kale announced.   The kids were sitting on the deck with their feet in the water.

            “Burn mine!” Tori called out.  Kale sighed loudly.

            “I’m a co-owner and sometimes chef at one of the most popular vineyard restaurants in the city, I never burn anything.”

            “Don’t think of it as burning Kale,” Fletcher said.  “Just well done.”

            “Extremely well done.” Rachael said.  She could identify with Kale’s frustration.  Practically any meat Tori ate had to be “twice dead” – killed then cooked to death.  Rachael attributed it to her Lakota upbringing and the early years spent living on the Reservation.  From what few stories she’d heard, Tori was raised a traditional Sioux – fishing, hunting, killing and cooking wild game over an open fire.  In addition, Tori travelled extensively with her father for the first year after her mother’s death.  Fletcher went on digs among Canada’s Inuit, rural Japan, Nepal, Tibet, Australia, Puerto Rico, Egypt and Israel, living among cultures where refrigeration was rare to non-existent.

            Rachael glanced over at the trio as they spoke and laughed in quieter tones.  She smiled.  It was obvious how they felt about one another.  Rachael couldn’t remember the last time a full week went by without the kids being together at the house.   Then Rachael’s smile saddened a bit.  Even though things were not as horrible as they had been during the “dark years” things hadn’t turned out the way she thought or the way Fletcher promised.

            Fletcher promised that in time Tori would accept her and they would be married, and the three of them would live happily ever after.  Neither had come true.  Admittedly the yelling, screaming and fighting had decreased over the years as Tori got older and she realized Rachael wasn’t leaving causing them to forge an uneasy truce where Tori all but ignored her.  And marriage?  Somewhere along the way they agreed it would be best to wait until Tori was 18, off to college and involved in her own life.

            Kale set platters of meat at both ends of the table.  The table was already loaded with Pualani’s French onion bacon spinach, grilled corn on the cob, baked and roasted potatoes, a string bean dish and a plate of rolls, buns and other breads.  Rachael’s famous baked peach-pear cobbler was cooling on the counter and Tori’s homemade vanilla ice cream was churning in her electric White Mountain ice cream maker.

            The trio had joined the adults, taking their spots at the end of the table.  Kale ditched his apron and took his seat at the head of the table.

            “A blessing,” he said.  “God bless this food and the gathering.”  The group mumbled their endings – Amen, Mother Mary, Father Earth or nothing at all.  Then platters and bowls were passed around the table until everyone had their desired first serving.   Tori scooped the burnt sausage onto her plate and squirted a healthy dollop of spicy ground mustard to the edge of her plate.  The trio smiled wide with food-filled cheeks.

            “This is good.” Tori grinned.

            “How can you mess up a burnt sausage?” AJ asked with a chuckle.

            “Just wait until we get to grandpa Bo’s,” Tori said, forking the spinach salad.  “We’ll be getting some serious bar-b-que,”

            AJ fished in his pocket for his iPhone.  He wiped his fingers with his napkin and scrolled to his calendar.

            “Grandpa Bo’s in August?” he asked.  Tori and Kalea looked at their calendars.

            “Leaving on the 16th.” Kalea confirmed.  “There the whole week, family bar-b-que the 22nd.”

            “Then you guys fly home and I’m off with Grandpa Bo to the Reservation the week of the 23rd.” Tori smiled.

            “We’re going up on Thursday the 20th,” Fletcher said speaking about him and Rachael.  “Why don’t we all go up on Thursday and fly back on Sunday?  We can take my company jet.”

            Fletcher had attained some critical acclaim as an archeologist but his millions had been made searching for and finding sunken treasure under his company Expedition Unearth.  He had a Gulfstream G650 for domestic travel, a Boeing 747 used mainly for overseas travel, a company yacht christened Wachiwi Princess, named for Tori’s mother, and a survey ship christened Odin’s Bow for water expeditions.

            “That sounds like a perfect idea,” Fran said.

            “Why should the kids have all the fun?” Kale stated.  “Why don’t we do an evening at the vineyard before we leave?  I can schedule a private party, fly in Chef Metregon and hire a string ensemble to provide the music.  We can set everything up overlooking the mountains.”

            “What a wonderful idea.” Pualani smiled.

            “So are we game group?” Kale asked.  The adults nodded.

            “Keldudalr goes the whole week of June 15th.” AJ said scrolling through his calendar.

            Though the Viking Reenactment Festival took place in San Francisco, approximately 50 miles from their homes, the trio along with Fletcher’s father Harald, stayed at the on-site village the whole time.

            “Are you guys coming to Keldudalr?” Kalea called to the adults.

            “I’m showing up for Market Day,” Pualani said.  “but I’m not sleeping in a tent.”

            “We’ll be there too.” Rachael said speaking of her and Fletcher.  “I have some pottery and glass I can sell and Fletcher will be presenting a slide lecture on the Viking shipwreck he discovered last month.”

            “I remember reading in the Napa News about you finding a Viking wreck last month off the coast of Sweden.” Stu said.  “How’d you convince these reenactment freaks to allow you to bring in a slide show?”

            “This group will be the first to see the details of the salvage at a private viewing.  We’ll be showing actual video footage of the sunken ship, artifacts in place.  They’ll see the inventory and cataloguing process of every artifact we’ve retrieved thus far, laid out on display.  It’s estimated that the craft dates back to the early 1300s based on preliminary testing of the ship’s wood.  As you know my father’s on the Council and when he made the pitch to the Keldudalr Werod Founders, they jumped all over it.”

            “Well I might show up for the viewing myself,” Stu said pulling a sterling silver cigar tube out of his shirt pocket.  He unscrewed the top and chomped down on a Cuban cigar.  “No freaking out woman.” he said in response to Fran’s raised eyebrow.  “This isn’t a smoking cigar.”

            Stu had what he considered two types of cigars, ones you actually lit and smoked and the ones you simply chomped down on.  He’d seen a news reel of George Patton with a cigar in his mouth when he was a young man and the strong image of Patton “the leader” never left him.

            “Kale, Fletch and I will go off a respectable distance before we light up the good ones.” Stu said cocking a thumb towards the portable humidor plugged in and resting on the counter.

            “So what’s the figure on this haul?” Kale asked getting back to the wreckage.

            “Goodness Kale,” Pualani flushed.  “That’s private!”  The men laughed.

            “Guys like to brag honey,” Kale smiled.  “So what are you bringing in?”

            “Well, museums are crazy for this stuff, Countries too, they love anything that deals with their personal history.”

            “Stop all the explaining and just tell us,” Stu said.  “How much you stickin’em for?”  Fran stood shaking her head as she started clearing away plates.

            “Well Sweden’s giving us the brunt of the excavation contract and we’ll be treating it like an archaeological dig, just under water,” Fletcher said.   “Kalmar County Museum in conjunction with The Swedish Museum of Natural History will do the oversight.  It’s a little sketchy for them because the wreck was found 300 miles outside of their territorial waters, putting it in international waters.”

            “So technically it’s yours.” Pualani said clearing away the glasses.

            “Technically it is, and on paper the wreckage and all artifacts found are mine, but the raising of the ship as intact as possible could cost a small fortune.  Likewise the underwater excavation will be extremely expensive so I’ve contracted to share a defined portion of the findings with the Swedish government, if they pay for the work.”

            “So you get this pre-defined portion of the loot and you’re not on the hook to pay for any of the work to get to it.” Stu said.

            “Pretty much.” Fletcher smiled.  “They’ve paid me a hefty sum for the ship so the Swedish government now owns that.  I’ve also received compensation for partial rights to the find and I get to keep a good portion of the excavated treasure with the agreement I’m willing to sell most of it back to the Swedish government.  And my ship is contracted to do the hauling.  We’ve already been paid three million and there’s probably anywhere from five to upwards of ten, twelve million or more still on the ocean floor.”

            Stu threw his head back and laughed loudly.

            “Man, you’re a modern day pirate.” He said shaking his head.

            “I do okay.” Fletcher smiled.

            “How are we sized up for camp?” Tori asked.

            “Good.” Kalea smiled.   “Looks like we’re all gone about the same time.”

            “We’re home for a couple weeks after that, then we’re all off to Israel with Tori’s pop.” AJ said.

            Fletcher was scheduled to participate in an archeological excavation at the Givati parking lot in Jerusalem.  He’d taken on the assignment of Lead Excavation Chief.  The site was touted as being the largest excavation ever conducted in Jerusalem and had been going on in some form or fashion for the past two years.

            “That should be three full weeks,” Fletcher said to the group as a whole.  “The dig’s going on longer than that, that’s just how long we’re going to be there, so any adults who want to tag along should get with me so I can make the arrangements and get you set up in the King David Hotel which is close to the site. That is unless you want to camp at the site with me, dad and the kids.”

            The adults grumbled and laughed, commenting on the flexibility of youth and the stiff old bones of age.

            “Once we get back from Israel that’ll leave us the rest of August then back to school.” AJ said.

            “Let’s not talk about it.” Kalea groaned.  “We’re just starting summer vacation today,”

            “And what a way to start.” Tori leaned over to whisper so only they could hear.  “Your pops chasing Fin with a Samurai sword.”  Tori and AJ chuckled, then all three erupted in laughter.

            “What’s that racket down there?” Stu asked.

            “Just coordinating our calendars,” AJ said holding up his phone.

            “You don’t have a job but you got a calendar?” Stu teased.

            “Job?” AJ smiled.  “What do I need a job for?  I’ll just live off the family fortune like you pops.”  That brought howls of laughter from everyone.

            “Hey, hey here,” Stu said snatching the cigar out of his mouth.  “I work.  Who’s the football coach huh? And co-ROTC instructor at your school?”

            “Pop,” AJ smiled, “you work for kicks.  Who ever heard of a guy with a trust fund that doles out millions a year working?”  Stu chomped back down on the cigar.

            “Listen, I grew up a poor kid on the wrong side of the tracks so I never put all my trust in any one thing.  You need to have a trade son, all of you kids do.  If something goes wrong and me and your parents end up penniless…”

            “Hey, bite your tongue on that one man.” Fletcher quickly piped in.

            “I’m just saying,” Stu continued.  “all you kids are doing the right thing.  You’re setting yourselves up for the future.  Going to college, being self-sufficient.  I ate a lotta beans before I got that trust.  I lived in a pit of hell before I got the Mansion.”  His voice lowered and his eyes glazed and misted a bit as he thought back on the road that brought him to where he was today.  His rough features softened making him seem younger than his 44 years.

After his mother died Stu lived with her brother, uncle Charlie, who expected Stu to work in his Auto Shop to kick in for his living expenses.  At 16 he stopped working at the shop in Lubbock, Texas because he’d figured another way to get money – stealing, fencing, selling booze and cigs to kids.  So long as he was kicking in his share uncle Charlie could care less where the money came from.  Then came the accident that changed his life forever.  Stu was drinking and driving with some buddies when he plowed into a station wagon.  The woman driving the car was in a coma for a month. Prior to this Stu had been busted for minor infractions and had spent time in Garza County Juvenile Detention but now he was 18 years old and had seriously harmed an innocent person.

            Stu was in Garza County Lockup for two weeks when a three-piece suited lawyer showed up, wanting to take some of Stu’s blood.  He couldn’t figure out why, they’d taken blood from him at the hospital while he was chained to the bed and his blood alcohol level came back three times the legal limit.

            A couple of weeks later the suit came back with a deal.  Be tried as an adult and go to prison or join the military.  From Stu’s position it was a no-brainer, he enlisted in the Air Force.  Years later he would come to understand who the suit was and what the jailhouse visit was all about.

            Stu’s mom had been involved with the son of one of the richest oil barons in the country.  His mom never knew who this man’s father really was, “just a drifter” she would tell Stu when he asked about his father, a sweet guy who blew through town one summer and disappeared in the fall.  She’d never heard from him again, but unbeknownst to her he continued watching over her.  Though she only had a 9th grade education she always somehow had a job.  Even when grown men couldn’t find work his mom would get a call from somebody concerning something that just turned up.

            Stu eventually learned that the blood he gave was for a DNA test which confirmed that the billionaire drifter was Stu’s dad.  Though AJ teased him often concerning the “family trust of millions” the trust was anonymous.  Stu had no idea who set it up.  All he was ever told was that it was established by his father’s family and by accepting the trust he was agreeing in writing to never try to discover who that was.

            “So who’s ready for my world famous peach-pear cobbler?” Rachael called.  The “I ams” circled the table.

            “Girls get the ice cream and bowls,” Pualani instructed.  Tori quickly retrieve the metal canister from the ice cream machine and a scooper.  Rachael and Kalea passed around wedges of the warmed cobbler while Tori circled the table, dropping scoops of ice cream on top.  Tori then grabbed a bowl, giving herself a generous scoop and jumped into her chair.  Kalea had already placed a bowl with the cobbler at a spot in front of her.

            “You’ve got to give me the recipe for this cobbler,” Kale said to Rachael.  “I seriously need to add it to my restaurant’s menu.”

            “Kale, it could be a family secret.” Pualani said.

            “Look, I’ll kick back a percentage of the sales.”

            “There you go hon,” Fletcher said.  “You need to think about that.”

            “I will.” Rachael smiled.

            “What about you Tori?” Kale asked.  “This ice cream is delicious.”

           “No way,” Tori replied.  “This ice cream is a family secret.  My grandma Louise taught me how to make it on condition I keep the ingredients strictly confidential.  This recipe has been in her family for 100 years.”

            “Well let me know if you ever want to franchise.”

            “Will do Mr. K.” Tori smiled.

After the meal the group dispersed to their favorite spots; the men to the far side of the pool where they pushed the lounge chairs into a small circle so the ends were nearly touching.  Stu passed around and lit everyone’s cigar and the men enjoyed the finishing touch to a great meal and grand dessert.

            “This is the best cigar I’ve ever smoked.” Fletcher said taking a quick enjoyable puff.

            “That it is.” Kale agreed.  He took a short puff, rolled the smoke around in his mouth the way he’d taste a fine wine.  Smiling, he blew the smoke out in one long wisp.  Stu smiled.  He took a puff releasing it slowly.

            “They’re from the Gurka’s Premier Collection – His Majesty’s Reserve, premium aged tobacco that’s somehow steeped in Louis XIII cognac and hand-rolled by expert cigar rollers.”  The cigar had a mellow incense type smell that was as delightful as the taste.

            “Only 100 boxes a year are made and I own two.”

            “You’re kidding.” Kale said taking the cigar out of his mouth to look at it.  “How much is a box?”

            “One cigar costs more than most guys would pay for a whole box of cigars.” Stu shared smiling.

            “Well heck,” Fletcher said leaning back in the chair.  “Let’s enjoy it then.”

            The women gathered in the Sunroom to the left of the outdoor kitchen.  The Sunroom was large yet cozy with plants and strikingly colored flowers situated thickly about the area. 

            The sound of the men’s yells and laughter interrupted the women’s calm chatter.

            “Goodness, what is that noise about?” Pualani asked.

            “There’s no telling,” Fran said shaking her head.  “My husband and his blasted cigars.”  The women laughed.  “However,” she thought aloud.  “He’s gets one from Spain that tastes just scrumptious.”

            “No!” Pualani gasped.  “You smoked a cigar?”

            “I most certainly did.” Fran said proudly.  “I wanted to see what all the hoop-la was about. For goodness sake the man has a smoking room.  Who ever heard of such a thing?  A room where you do nothing but sit and smoke cigars.  Thank goodness it has an air filtration system.  The smoke is sucked out of the air while fresh air is filtered into the room.”

            “I guess we all have our indulgences,” Rachael said lifting the cup of white tea to her lips.  She inhaled the soft fragrance before taking a sip.  The women nodded and hummed their comments.  The Darjeeling blend of tea Pualani served her guests was one of the most expensive brands of tea in the world.

            “Where did the three Musketeers get off to?” Fran asked scanning the backyard and pool area.

            “To Kalea’s second home,” Pualani said.

            Kalea’s second home was a treehouse situated down a small garden path that opened to a well-tended forest.  Tall redwood trees filled the acre of land that was the Kinimaka’s property.

            A clustered group of three trees made up the base-frame for the elaborate 800 square foot treehouse.  Kalea’s treehouse was specially designed for her and her unique tastes.  Tori and AJ also had treehouses in their back yards, both of which were unique to them.

            If Tori had her way she would live in trees and her feet would never touch the ground.  If she spent any measurable amount of time someplace she wanted to be able to climb a tree and sit there with walls around her and creature comforts at her disposal.

            The parents indulged the trio mainly because of the amount of time they spent together at each other’s homes.  The parents had their input though; the treehouse had to be well camouflaged, not readily obvious when they, or their guests, were being entertained in the backyard; not so high as to be dangerous or to where neighbors would feel as if they were being spied on.  And the treehouses were for them alone, no visitors.  All entertaining of friends had to be done poolside or in the house.

            All of the treehouses were equipped with state-of-the-art security systems.  Key punch/thumb scan recognition that released the staircase and unlocked the steel reinforced doors.  All the windows were break-in resistant and even the bases were encased with lightweight copper chainmail which was laser, saw and hack proof.   The treehouses were all security extensions of the homes they were connected to.

            Kalea’s treehouse was NASA themed.  Nestled between three larger redwood trees it was all but hidden among branches and leaves.  Instead of the usual NASA color of white/silver, the treehouse was made of wood and camo-colored to better meld with the forest-like surroundings and be as unobtrusive as possible.

            All of the treehouses were equipped with central air and heat, a 50 inch flat screen TV, a mini kitchenette with double sink, a roaster and an apartment sized refrigerator.

            Kalea’s sitting/entertainment area contained a loveseat, giant beanbag chair, and the TV with a Bose home theater system.  There were several cabinets for DVDs, CDs and any personal items the trio might want to store.

            Hanging from the wall facing the TV was a large padded hammock with a large hook beside it.  AJ preferred hammocks and used the hook to hang his prosthetic when he took it off to “give his stump a rest.”  There was a built-in shelf to the side where he kept various things needed for his prosthetic and stump’s care.  AJ was so comfortable without his prosthetic he would literally climb out of a tree only to have one of the parents ask him where his leg was.

            On the other side of the room was Kalea’s sleeping area, an Asortia daybed situated under the stairs leading to the loft.  The staircase led up to where Kalea’s ‘space stuff’ was situated.

            Opposite the stairs was a bathroom with an incinerator toilet, biodegradable shower, a sink, mirror and small cabinet containing linens and other bathroom items.

            Access to the space module’s interior was through a door hatch.  The interior was an exact replica of the Apollo 13 command module, specially reproduced via numerous photographs and from the movie Apollo 13.  Not only was it a precise model, but it was fully functional.  Once the hatch door was closed Kalea, as well as anyone sharing one of the other two seats, were encapsulated in her own little space world.  The cockpit had two modes; missions simulation and observatory.  Mission simulation allowed Kalea to participate in actual space missions through a computerized interface mission command.  There were CGI graphics of life-like actors that she could see on the numerous built-in monitors, and hear through the command seat or head-set which allowed her to interact with them.  Though Kalea was just a kid, her dad had connections that allowed her access typically reserved for retired and professional astronauts.

            “Think we should interrupt space cadet to see if she wants a float?” AJ asked, jumping out of the hammock.  He didn’t bother to put his leg on, instead he hopped to the counter where Tori had already set up the float glasses.

            “Are you nuts?” Tori said.  “She’s getting in her flight time before Space Camp.  Let’s leave her alone.”   AJ filled his glass to the halfway mark with diet Coke while Tori poured Cherry Coke into her glass.

            AJ pulled two beanbag chairs to the center of the room, and flopped down on his – the Pixar animated character one and grabbed the remote.

            “I’m starting the movie,” he called out.

            “Okay, okay.” Tori said wiping down the counter.  When she was done she flopped down onto her beanbag.

            “Lo there do I see my father,” Tori recited.  “Lo there do I see my mother and my sister and my brothers…”

            “These are the opening credits,” AJ said.  “The “lo theres” are practically at the end of the movie.”  Tori picked up the remote and turned up the sound.  AJ laughed picking up his glass to take a drink.

            “Hey kids!”  It was Kalea’s dad.

            “Man,” Tori sighed stopping the movie.   She got up and followed AJ through the door to the platform outside.  The parents were standing there, grouped beneath the tree.

            “We’re calling it a night.” Stu called up.  “Be home by midnight or don’t come home at all,” he teased.

            “Stuart.” Fran gasped giving him a playful swat on the chest.

            “We just started the movie.” AJ said.

            “And we still have to watch Apollo 13 and Toy Story,” Tori added.

            “We’ll see you kids tomorrow then.” Fletcher said.

            “Good night Tori.” Rachael said holding Fletcher’s hand.  Tori felt a strange sinking thud in her stomach.

            “Don’t stay up to late,” Kale said.  “And will one of you drag my kid’s comatose body out of that tube and put her to bed?”

            “Will do Mr. K.” Tori smiled.

            They waved, said their goodnights and Tori and AJ watched them walk off, listening as their voices disappeared into the night.

            “I just love a good ole fashion all-nighter,” AJ said rubbing his hands together.  “I brought extra popcorn just in case.”  Tori shoved her hands into her pockets and walked back inside.

            “The float’s melted,” AJ observed.  “I’m putting mine in the freezer.”

            “Mine too.” Tori said flopping down on the beanbag.  Just that quickly Tori’s temperament had changed.  All Rachael said to her was “night Tori” to which Tori responded “yeah.”

            "It’s gonna be a long hot summer,” AJ said to himself, putting both mugs in the freezer.

            “What are you mumbling about?” Tori asked.

            “If you just tried..”

            “Here we go.” Tori said.  “My reality’s not yours dude, when are you gonna get that through your head?”

            “But it’s kinda like my reality,” AJ said. “I’m living with two people who aren’t my birth parents.  You’re only living with one person who isn’t yours.”

            “But I’ve got a dad and a mom.”

            “A live dad and a dead mom.” AJ clarified.  “Your mom’s been gone what? almost ten years?” He paused to let it resonate a bit.  “And Rach has been with you guys what? Nine years now.  At some point you’re gonna know Rach longer than you were with your own mother.  Rach isn’t going anywhere Tor, she’s put up with you and your antics for years and she’s still here.  Doesn’t that tell you something?”

            “Yeah,” Tori said flatly.  “She’s a crazy gold-digger.  My dad’s a millionaire, remember?”     

            “Get real,” AJ said.  “No woman would hang around you for all these years just because she wants your dad’s millions.  Anyway, Rach has her own place.”

            AJ was talking about di CureCondi Visa, Rachael’s Art Gallery.  It was located in downtown St. Helena, nestled in an area of exclusive shops and high-end restaurants.  The Gallery not only exhibited her work but the works of local and world renowned artists.  Rachael’s gallery was purchased and sustained by money she earned selling her art along with the vast commissions she made selling the artwork of people she showcased.

            Rachael’s iron and clay sculptures could be found in office buildings, parks and the front yards and homes of the rich and famous.  AJ was right, Rachael had amassed her own millions.

            “Look AJ,” Tori said.  “I’m outta here next fall so Rach and I have a very comfortable peace.  I’ll be at Berkeley, living in my own place and completely out of her life.  She’ll finally have what’s she’s been waiting for and wanting all this time, having my dad all to herself.”

            “Listen kiddo,” AJ said flipping onto his stomach so he could face Tori.  “By the time you’re off to college Rachael will have been living in your house with you and your dad ten years, longer than your own mom has lived with you,”

            “Hey!” Tori shouted.

            “Just look at this thing in context.  You don’t think she likes you by now?” AJ asked.

            “Aww c’mon.” Tori moaned.  “Who do you think she’s probably blaming for the reason my dad hasn’t married her yet, huh?  Me dude, and the reason my father hasn’t married her is because he hasn’t gotten over my mom yet.  My parents were soul mates – nag hosanna, they had a love that lasts forever.  When you have that type of marriage it’s hard to commit to anybody like that ever again.  Living with her, cool.  Marry her? Dude he still loves my mom.”   Right then the shuttle door opened and Kalea popped her head out.

            “Time for Apollo 13?”

            “Aww man!” Tori groaned.  “Now we’re gonna have to watch my movie second.”  Tori knew there would be no peace until Kalea watched her movie.  She always acted this way before Space Camp.

            “Yeah, c’mon,” Tori said getting up.  “I’m getting my float while I’m up, anybody else ready?”  Both Kalea and AJ were.

            “I’ll get the movie.” Kalea said.

***

Tori was partially right.  Fletcher was in no hurry to marry Rachael but not because he was still in love with his wife.  He wasn’t anxious to get married again to anyone, period.  Truth be told, Fletcher loved and prized his freedom and as a result he took every opportunity to participate in a dig or go off looking for buried treasure.  To Rachael, the “footloose, carefree” charm she fell in love with almost nine years ago had, over time, become an irritant.  No sooner was he home then he was planning to be gone again.

            Rachael lit a fire in the library fireplace and was sitting on the rich brocade sofa, sipping a warm cup of Pokka nighttime tea.  She loved the soft smell of lavender and the hint of lime flavor in the mixture of herbs.

            She placed the cup on the table and stared into the fire.  The library was her favorite room in the house.  Books were stacked from floor to ceiling in mahogany shelves around the room.  The floor was dark wood as well, covered with a great Persian rug.  The sofa and four sitting chairs were richly upholstered and situated in a cozy semi-circle around the fireplace.  Besides her workshop, which was located just off the pool, Rachael felt this one room was singularly hers.

            Rachael snuggled into the corner of the sofa tucking the plush throw pillow under her head.  It saddened her that she and Tori had barely spoken five words to each other all day long.  They’d come a long way from the scream-fests of years gone by, the “I hate you,” “I wish you were dead,”  ‘Leave why don’t you.” followed by angry defiant silence.

            Rachael had spent years trying to get Tori to love her, then simply to like her and the best she could do was to move her from outright hostility and hatred to icy tolerance and part-time indifference.

            Rachael reached for the cup and sipped.  She felt her eyes slowly fill with water as she rehashed the walk home with Fletcher.

            “Do you really have to leave so soon, you just got back.”

            “You heard the whole story at Pualani’s.  I’ve got a salvage.”

            “And you have an experienced crew that can function without you, at least for a few weeks.”

            “Rachael, I am the company.  My contractors aren’t signing on with Butch, Caryn and Cappy: they’re signing on with me.  It’s my reputation not theirs.”  Fletcher stopped under a streetlight and pulled Rachael close, facing him.  He wrapped his arms around her and gave her that “Fletcher smile”.

            Then he kissed her, deeply.

            “Okay,” she said a bit breathless.  “Just spend some time with your daughter.”

            “You mean the kid who's up a tree watching the same Viking DVD for the 500th time with the other two Musketeers?”  Rachael laughed and they continued on their way.  “We’ll spend some father-daughter time together soon, okay?”

            “Okay.”

Rachael nestled and let the soft flames draw her in.  She cared for Tori.  She can’t say when it actually happened, she simply came to the awful realization one day.

            Rachael was at Red Oak Senior Living, visiting her grandmother Agnieszka and Tori had gone with her.  She’d left the room to speak to the doctor and when she returned her grandmother and Tori were having a grand old time – her grandmother was laughing and speaking Yiddish to Tori and Tori was speaking perfect Yiddish in response. During the drive home Rachael asked Tori where she’d learned Yiddish and Tori responded “Bubbe,”

            Rachael asked “Bubbe who?”  At which Tori laughed.

            “Bubbe Agnes.” Agnes was the shortened form of Agnieszka that family and friends used for her grandmother.

            Tori called her grandmother Agnieszka, “Bubbe” which is grandmother in Yiddish.  Only then did Rachael realize Tori had been spending time at the Senior Home with her grandmother without her knowledge.  She hadn’t believed her grandmother when she’d mentioned seeing Tori or speaking to her on the phone.  Rachael thought it was simply her grandmother’s mind slowly slipping away, but she checked with the front office and discovered Tori had been signing in as Agnieszka Lieberman’s granddaughter, three to four times a month, and she’d found Tori’s cell number programmed in Agnieszka’s phone.

            Rachael was floored.  She remembered sitting in the parking lot of the Senior Home for several minutes, marveling that Tori had been doing this for months, apparently riding her scooter to the Home, spending time and a portion of her life with this little old woman.

            That’s when it hit her, she cared for her.  She actually had feelings of affection for this bright, beautiful, sensitive child.  The realization was nearly earth shattering. 

***

Tori checked to make sure the stairs were retracted up and the doors and windows secured before tossing her tree hammock over her shoulder and climbing nearly 10 feet up to her favorite spot.  The spot had just the right number of strong limbs where she could secure the mosquito-netted enclosed canvas hammock.

              Tori hung the hammock securely to four limbs and then crawled into the tent-like structure zipping herself in.  The hammock came padded with a lightweight micro-thermal blanket she could pull over herself if she got cold.  The stitched in pillow was full and fluffy and the boxy-shaped mesh covering was functional while allowing her an unhindered view of her surroundings.

            From her high perch she could see every home in the community.  Curtains and blinds were drawn with the faint hint of light illumined on the other side.  Two patrol vehicles slowly moved up and down the street, stopping every now and again to shine their infrared lights into yards.  The Mesa, as it was affectionately known, was reputed to be the most highly protected gated community in all of Northern California.

            Tori smiled as the memory of sleeping in the trees with her mother flooded into her mind.  The two of them would go deep into the woods and live off the land for days.  Her dad would be away on some dig and although Tori missed him it really didn’t bother her because it meant she would get to spend special alone time with her mother.  They would fish in one of the many streams, trap rabbits and squirrels and cook them over an open fire.   They had a portable teepee they could easily assemble, sleeping packs and the tree hammock.  They would sleep on the ground if it was safe and take to the trees if they were in wolf or bear country.

            Before she got sick Tori’s mother could scale a tree like a lumberjack.  It was her mother who taught her how to select the best tree for her hammock and she taught her  how to select the limbs and branches to secure and tie the hammock to.  They would then crawl in together, the large hammock giving both more than enough room.

            As the day faded and night slipped in, Tori’s mom would gather her in her arms and share all the grand stories and exploits of her ancestors and people.  Even when Tori drifted off to sleep her mother continued talking and pouring her culture and her Tribe’s ways into the mind of her dreaming child.  Lakotas believed if you did this with a child while they slept the stories would take on life and breath, being converted into something so real that the story would become a tangible part of the child’s own memory, one they now shared with their ancestors; the path of the ancestors reaching forward, the path of the Lakota child reaching back, completing the grand circle of life.

            After being diagnosed with breast cancer, Wachiwi took to the trees until the regiment of chemo and radiation grounded her.  Even after the mastectomy to remove her diseased right breast she still led her child high up into the tall trees.  It was the removal of the left breast and the acceleration of the disease that ultimately left her chained to the ground.

            Tori had photos of her mother, various mementos and memorials spanning from her early teens to the time of her death.  The majority of the photos had been copies her grandmother Louise had placed in a photo album for her.  Tori’s favorite photo of her mother was sitting on her night table next to her bed.  Her mother was still full of life and color.  She had long black hair parted on the right and hanging down the sides of her face.  She was smiling, her dark brown eyes glistening.  She was beautiful and fond of saying every time she saw the picture – “as flat chested as a ten year old boy.”  Because of the way she was sitting you couldn’t tell she had no breasts.  That would be the last picture ever taken of Wachiwi Eaglewolf.  She would be dead in four months.

Pualani was pleasantly surprised to find the kids up, showered and fixing breakfast.

            “Tea is on the patio mama.” Kalea said taking her mom by the hand and guiding her to the already set table.  AJ was balanced on one leg, scrambling, poaching and omelet’ing eggs.  Tori was putting a tray of homemade biscuits in the oven and Kalea was grilling bacon, sausage, ham and smoking fillet cuts of salmon.  Fresh squeezed orange, grapefruit and apple juice were in pitchers on the table.  A fresh fruit tray was in the fridge and a pot of Hacienda la Esmeralda coffee was brewing.

            “I might get used to this,” Pualani smiled.

            “You should taste our cooking at the Viking Festival.” Kalea said.

            “No thanks,” Pualani responded.  She totally refused to sleep out in the wild and go to the bathroom outside, even though the “wild” was an acre and a half plot of land at the University of San Francisco’s campus.  Right then the gate buzzed and AJ grabbed the nearby remote and clicked on the 50 inch TV.  Tapping the front gate button on the screen a view of the gate area appeared.  Seeing his and Tori’s parents at the gate he pressed a button to open the gate and clicked the monitor off.

            “Just daddy, then we can eat.” Kalea said.

            “Your daddy called earlier, he said he’d be running a little late and to start without him.  An issue at the Vineyard,” Pualani explained.  Kalea turned back to the grill slightly disappointed.  She wanted her dad to see her wearing one of his aprons, cooking at the grill.

            Oh well, she thought.  At least he was still coming.

            “Morning all!” Stu boomed, leading the group around the side of the house and onto the slightly raised patio deck.  He came up behind AJ, put an arm around his neck and gave him a kiss on the side of the head.

            “Dad!” AJ groaned.

            “You hooking your old dad up?”

            “Made to order.” AJ said referring to his dad’s specially made omelet with matiz sardines and brie de melon.

            “That’s m’boy!”  He gave him another kiss and slapped his back.

            “C’mon dad,” AJ said wiping away the kiss.  Tori laughed and AJ gave her his “don’t even start” look.

            Though AJ was 17 years old and could stand eye-to-eye with his dad, Stu had no problem giving him a hug and a kiss.  He’d spent too many worried days and restless nights hovering over his son’s hospital bed through the sickest times of his life.  And now here he was, nearly ten years later, “as healthy as a horse” his dad was fond of saying.  If he stared at AJ too long he’d get teary-eyed causing his son to really groan.  AJ knew he was the luckiest kid on the planet; not because his folks were filthy rich, but because they loved him.  AJ had known not being loved and being loved and he’d take his dad’s sloppy bothersome hugs and kisses any day.

            “Where’s the mutt?” Tori asked sliding the tray of golden browned biscuits out of the oven.

            “Home.” Stu said.

            “Whining.” Fran added.

            “You should have brought him,” AJ said bringing the platter of eggs to the table.  He scooped Stu’s on a spatula and slid it onto his plate.

            “He’s fine,” Fran said pouring herself a cup of coffee.  ‘He’s just being a ten year old Basenji.  Your dad took him for a run this morning so he’s a little less fussy.”  The teens retrieved the food, spaced it on the table and everyone sat down to eat.

            “Mahalo, aloha God.” Pualani said blessing the food.

            “Gimme that maple syrup,” Fletcher said scooping four biscuits onto his plate.

            “Fletcher,” Rachael started.

            “There’s more,” Tori interrupted.  “I’ve got another tray.  I’ll put them on when the basket gets low.”

“You kids are awesome.” Fletcher said going for more of everything.

            “Son, this omelet was perfect.” Stu said mopping up the remaining dredges with his biscuit.

            “I’ll have whatever Stu’s sopping up with his biscuit,” Kale said coming through the slidding door.

            “Daddy!” Kalea called out.  “You should’ve seen me cooking.”

            “Sorry I missed it baby but we had a problem at the Vineyard.”

            “What’s going on?” Pualani asked.

            “Looks like we had some vandalism at the north ridge.”

            “Vandals?” Kalea asked.

            “Vines and stalks are wrecked, like somebody came in and just tore them up.  One of the hands noticed it while doing the rounds.”

            “You didn’t get an alarm?” Fletcher asked.

            “I don’t have anything set up that far out.  We use the north ridge for experimenting with cuttings, soil, and shade types.  We have a 6-8 foot test section up there that we use for testing vine canopy, flowering, photosynthesis, transpiration and fruit growth.  We were trying out some new variety grapes to see how they would hold up.”

            “You don’t think it was a competitor?” Pualani asked.

            “No,” Kale said shaking his head.  “There’s nothing to be gained from ripping up a few feet of vines.  The trek up there isn’t worth it, it’s a bit of a hike.  We’re stepping up patrols in the area just to be sure.”

            “Thanks,” Kale said, taking the plate from AJ.

            “Well, increased activity should detract these hooligans,” Fran said.

            “How about we go out and look for clues?” Tori suggested.  There were a few giggles from around the table.

            “Tori, we’re talking about some tore up grape vines not a luxury car theft ring.” AJ said.

            “Did you call the cops?” she asked ignoring AJ.

            Kale shook his head.

            “Not worth the trouble.  The north ridge is undeveloped, not part of the fenced-in monitored portion of the Vineyard.  The damaged vines are worth less than $100.”

            “Then we should definitely go and see what we can find.”

            “Is it safe?” Pualani asked.

            “We’ve been back there hundreds of times,” Kalea said placing a fresh platter of bacon and sausage on the table.

            “And thug-hooligans are no match for us,” AJ added.

            “We’ll take the mutt with us,” Tori said. This brought a round of laughter from the adults.

            “Hey, he’s a tracking dog.” AJ said defensively.

            “Tracking dog?” Tori asked.  “We all know who the real tracker is here.”

            “You are,” Kalea said putting the last tray of biscuits in the oven.  “You’re from a whole line of trackers, going back to times past,” she recited.

            “When the wolf taught your ancestors how to hunt; when the Lakota and wolf lived as brothers,” AJ added smiling.  Soft chuckles came from Kalea as Tori squint-eyed them both.  Kalea couldn’t hold it in and erupted in laughter.

            “Laugh it up.” Tori said.  “One of you gets lost you’re gonna appreciate my tracking abilities.”

            “Daddy appreciates you pumpkin,” Fletcher said.  “Biscuits done?”

            “There’s no harm in the kids going up to the ridge,” Kale said.  “And they’ll have wonder dog with them.”

            “Then why don’t we do a sleep-over?” Kalea asked.

            “Not a bad idea baby.” Kale said.

            “Yipee!”

            “No tracking at night though,” Rachael said.   “If there’s some activity going on out there I don’t want you kids near it.”  Tori frowned but Fran jumped to Rachael’s defense.

            “I’m in perfect agreement,” she said.

            “Mom, we’re talking about a few lousy grape plants not a marijuana stash.” AJ said.

            “I think I take insult at that,” Kale said feigning injury.  “But your mothers are right.” He added seriously.  “The area’s unlit, open and remote.  You can tramp around during the day but at dawn I want you three at the house.  Agreed?”

            “Agreed,” the trio said in unison.