Shoals Court: The Book

By Teresa Hubley

The novel version of the on-line soap finds a suburban neighborhood beset by murder and organized crime while police and a visiting attorney try to piece the sparse evidence together and catch the villains. Meanwhile, residents contend with growing families, old flames, new crushes, serious illnesses, marriages gone violently sour, and pesky gulls.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Teresa Hubley
• Release date: May 31, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311226587

Teresa Hubley

Teresa Hubley was born in Minneapolis and moved every couple of years after that, winding up in a handful of small Midwestern towns, suburban California and even west Africa. As an adult, she acquired a doctoral degree in anthropology and has lived most of her life in Maine, where she works in the health field. She usually has too many books to keep track of going at any time on her reading list. Favorite authors include Charles Dickens, E.M. Forster, Agatha Christie, Elizabeth Peters, and Dave Barry. Lunch out with Teresa and her family usually includes the reading of a few pages while the meal is delivered. When she's not reading or writing, she might be drawing, going for a long walk, or sneaking a guilty pleasure moment playing games on her tablet.

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Shoals Court

Copyright 2014 Teresa Hubley

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

COVER IMAGE: Sand Beach Acadia Motion by Glenn LeBlanc ©2007

Table Of Contents

Introduction

Episode One

Episode Two

Episode Three

Episode Four

Episode Five

Episode Six

Episode Seven

Episode Eight

Episode Nine

Episode Ten

Episode Eleven

Episode Twelve

Episode Thirteen

Episode Fourteen

Episode Fifteen

Episode Sixteen

Episode Seventeen

Episode Eighteen

Episode Nineteen

Episode Twenty

Epilogue

Re-Caps

Introduction

What is Shoals Court?: This book began life as a narrative soap opera in blog form. Each episode consisted of 10 short segments or scenes that advanced one part of the story. Each scene was limited to 500 words and meant to capture spans of time no longer than 5 minutes, just as in a televised soap opera. The story lines move back and forth between the different households in the neighborhood throughout each episode. While readers of the blog version could use tags to pull out only the households they wanted to follow, they were cautioned that the stories are intertwined so that parts of the action that concern one household may show up in other households. All episodes are summarized in the Re-Cap section found at the end of the book.

Where is the action set?: Shoals Court is a cul-de-sac in a large development in a coastal town. The street is lined with two-family condo units. Each side of each unit features two stories, a garage, and a patio. Walking paths connect the neighborhood to the beach and the local playground, while buses connect them to the larger city. Incomes vary in the Court, but most are in the middle, neither very wealthy nor very poor. The ethnic backgrounds and religious leanings of the residents are varied.

Who are the people in Shoals Court?

Households and Their People

Westcott/Magotti

Sydney Westcott

Raisa Westcott

Rex Magotti

Raisa lives with her boyfriend, Rex. Her estranged husband, Sydney, often shows up. Rex insists he is the only husband she needs, although they are not legally married. Raisa thus refers to herself as that girl with two husbands. The loss of Sydney’s excellent income as a lawyer has been tough and has left her looking for work. Rex makes good (but not great) money as a health professions teacher at nearby Las Palomas Community College.

Daniels

India Sugar Daniels

Oscar Daniels

Oscar, a sales manager in a local electronics store, refuses to permit his wife, known to him as Sugar, to leave the house or answer the phone without permission. She is seldom seen around the Court but they are often heard having loud conflicts.

Garland/Kamil

Emerald Emmy Garland

Barbara Bobbi Kamil

Emmy is an elderly, widowed woman who barely scrapes by on her pension as a retired nurse. Bobbi, a graphic arts teacher at Las Palomas, rents a room from Emmy and often assists her around the house. Bobbi often visits with the Templetons.

Templeton

Lyndsey Templeton

Polly Templeton

Peter Goodkind

Lyndsey is a math professor at the local state university branch, while Polly is chair of the graphic arts department at Las Palomas. Polly has been out on disability for some time as she struggles with the end stages of cancer. She is frequently visited by her brother, Peter Goodkind, an attorney from upstate who lives elsewhere but is contemplating a move to be closer to his dying sister.

Morales

Saffron Morales

Pasquale PePé Morales

Angel Morales

Saffron and Angel are newlyweds welcoming their first child. Angel’s dad, PePé, has moved in to help them build a new room, a nursery, over the garage. Angel and Saffron both teach elementary school.

James/LaChance

Petra James

Omar LaChance

Petra is head nurse at a local nursing home, while Omar is an army medic, variously posted in Afghanistan or Iraq.

Carson/Fenton

Wyatt Carson

Atticus Fenton

Wyatt runs a personal shopping and errand business but yearns to write novels. Atticus, a loan officer at a local bank, prefers to go by the nickname Pug, after a dog he had as a child. Both are devoted fans of Scrabble.

Tranh/Saris

Sam Tranh

Dinah Saris

Not exactly a household, these are the police officers most often assigned to patrol this neighborhood.

Sackett

Monique Sackett

Guillaume Sackett

Guillaume is the local representative of the holding company that owns the Court. Monique sits on the board and also heads up the residents’ association. Rules that govern the Court originate with this pair and are enforced by them.

Issacson

Caleb Issacson

Imelda Immy Issacson

Rebecca Becca Issacson

Shuana Rae Issacson

Caleb is a car salesman and single parent to three girls ages teen/pre-teen girls. Immy and Becca are the children of his first marriage. Their mother is deceased. Shauna Rae was born in a second marriage that ended in divorce.

Grenholm

Candida Candy Grenholm

The owner of a vintage clothing store in the neighborhood, Candida is single, currently dating Caleb.

Episode One

Emmy Garland tottered across the patio, a watering can clutched in one withered hand. She splashed a few drops of water across the half-withered plants poking out of the pots that dotted her small backyard realm.

Hello my darlings. Aren’t you beautiful?

Water trickled across the baked crumbles of dirt, leaving a dark stain.

Emmy’s body quivered in response to the sound of something small but heavy hitting the wall she shared with her neighbors, followed by the crack and tinkle of a fragile item exploding. The water can tumbled from Emmy’s hand. She curled both hands up against her stomach and slouched towards the patio wall, her ear cocked.

Oscar Daniels’ voice roared through his open patio door. You worthless sack of pus! What do you do around here all day? The sound of something snapping followed.

Damn, woman! Oscar roared. Oscar’s wife Sugar replied with a muffled moan.

Emmy scurried back into her condo and drew the glass door closed behind her. Her hands shook so that she fumbled away the cords that were used to draw the blinds. She shrank back away from the doorway.

A pinging noise hailed another object striking the wall. Sugar’s voice croaked out Oscar! No!

Emmy took a halting step towards the telephone table in her living room. She addressed the telephone aloud. Oh…dear. I wonder if I should call someone. Her eyes rose to the large fern behind her couch. Well. What do you say? Emmy edged towards the phone, nodding. She picked it up and dialed.

Bobbi? Bobbi…I need your advice. Call me right away. Better yet, come home and hurry about it!

>>>>>>>>

An unmarked police cruiser, a steel blue sedan, crept up the middle of Shoals Drive, unhindered by any traffic in the lazy late afternoon. Sam Tranh piloted the car with one hand while he hoisted an icy drink in a fast food cup in the other. Beside him, Dinah Saris scanned the trim lawns of the court, glaring at a small girl who darted into the street for a moment. The girl, seeing the officer’s stern look, stumbled back to the sidewalk, her eyes locked on the car.

A sudden movement in the Daniels’ yard ahead caught Dinah’s attention. Oscar Daniels stormed towards his black Hummer, waving his arms in bold strokes and seemingly shouting, although no words escaped.

Look at that, Sam, Dinah said. Oscar is having another bad hair day.

Sam chuckled, his eyes trained on the road. Oscar was born with bad hair. Then in a somber tone, We have more serious issues to deal with in this neighborhood.

Dinah’s eyes danced up and down at her partner. This neighborhood? This is basically Barbie and Ken’s home town. I’m so bored that I’ve been hoping Pepé Morales falls off his ladder again just so we’ll have something to do. To her side, she caught the motion of Oscar Daniels slamming his car door shut and then opening it again. He thrust himself into the driver’s side.

That’s where my experience shows, Sam said. He turned the car in a gentle arc around a cat that strolled across the road in front of them. I know that everything’s quiet on the street but behind every curtain you see, there’s a world of darkness. The cat broke into a dash as Oscar revved his motor.

Sam continued, All I think when I see someone go by is ‘I wonder what he did wrong?’ He waved his hand at the Daniels’ home, now slipping away on Dinah’s side. I wonder what she did wrong.

Dinah followed the gesture and saw that Sugar had just stepped out onto the walkway in front of the house. She stooped to pick up an overturned flowerpot. Oscar sped out of the driveway, his vehicle whining and squealing in protest. Tears sparkled on her cheeks.

>>>>>>>>

Sugar drifted through her home pushing pictures and curios back into place. She settled in front of the large wedding portrait, straining to find in the smiling bride covered in lace and lilies the miserable failure that slouched along at the heels of Oscar Daniels and earned his terrible wrath. She searched the handsome face of the groom with his tight lipped smile and blue tuxedo for a trace she might be able to find in the man who had come to think so little of her.

Beside the portrait, the mirror told her that she had grown sloppy and drab. No wonder Oscar despised her. She worked at forcing a smile onto her face, but could not approach the rosy, sunny, pretty expression she’d worn that day. She pulled back her hair and checked along the hairline, near where the ashtray had grazed her. She examined her hands and legs, checking where he had grabbed her ankles and where he had pinched her flesh. A faint burning sensation drew her eye to the back of her arm, where she found the handprint, the place where he had first slapped and grabbed, growing more vicious with her every twist and squirm.

Sugar tugged her sleeve down over the print but it wouldn’t stay. It inched back up, exposing the evidence. She rubbed at her arm to get the circulation back up. A sweater will do, she said.

She wiped her sweaty palms on her thighs and headed back towards the coat closet beside the garage. All of the items hanging in the closet belonged to Oscar. He had his golf jacket, his windbreaker, his fleece, his spare dinner jacket, his hooded sweatshirt, his light beach cover. Sugar had one sweater, a cast-off cardigan from a yard sale that he had bought for her years before for fifty cents. If she took it off before he came home, Sugar could get away with wearing the hooded sweatshirt. If he saw her in it…

As she pulled the sweatshirt onto her arms, taking caring not to aggravate the injured upper arm, she heard a mournful mew from the garage. Sugar opened the door that led out into the garage and greeted a scruffy striped cat.

I don’t know how you get into the garage, kitty. Come on.

She scooped the cat up and ran her hand across its head. A loud purr rewarded her.

If Oscar catches you, we’re both toast…but I can’t help it. You’re so cute and so sweet. One bite before you go, cat. Just one.

She cradled the cat like a baby and escorted it to the pantry, to the can of tuna she had originally earmarked for her own lunch.

>>>>>>>>

Raisa Westcott observed the cruiser as it coasted by her unit. She sat at her desk typing, though every cloud and passing bird caused her to halt. She erased and typed again.

Extensive experience with a variety of software packages

What if I try for a job with something I don’t know how to use? she commented. I don’t want to oversell myself. She deleted the sentence and started up again.

Worked with all aspects of the Microsoft Office suite; I am a quick learner, willing to learn other packages

That sounds like a person who is completely desperate and what the heck does ‘worked with’ mean? She deleted and started over.

Advanced ability with Microsoft…

On the walkway below, a man swooped from around the neighboring unit and vanished into the space beside her garage. Raisa dropped her hands from the keyboard to her lap and groaned.

Sydney. If he thinks I’m answering the door, he’s bonkers. It’s his fault I have to do this.

Raisa turned one ear up, listening. She sighed and placed hands back onto the keyboard. She scrolled up to the top of the document where her name, Raisa Westcott, stood out in bold letters. She erased Westcott and typed Magotti. She leaned back and snickered.

No, no. Not yet. He has to sign on the dotted line, the little worm. And Rex…he’s got to earn his place. I’m making the next one work a lot harder for it.

She removed her last edit and saved the document. The electricity fizzled out, scrunching the image from her screen and leaving it black.

Raisa jumped up and howled, Sydney! I’m going kill you, you worthless slime dog! She stalked away into the gloom of the house.

>>>>>>>>

Saffron Morales squealed and dropped a dish as the dark descended on her in the windowless galley kitchen of the condo. To her relief, the dish did not shatter around her bare feet. She squatted as quickly as her gravid belly would allow, one hand steadying her as it gripped the edge of the countertop. She groped around until she had the dish and could right herself and drop it into the water. She rubbed the resulting ache in the small of her back with one hand.

Only then, when the dish was safely restored, did Saffron realize the significance of the sudden loss of light.

PePé! she called. She repeated his name as she loped through the dim house. The only answer was a groan from above, from the new room pushing out over the top of the garage. A heavy metallic ringing sound announced that PePé had dropped one of his tools.

Saffron mounted the steps, pushing along with her toes to speed her towards the top. She stumbled on the third to last step and crashed into the wall, grasping the banister with both hands. Her breath completely emptied, leaving her gasping and gulping for air.

PePé appeared out of the gloom and rushed to her side, looping his arm up around her back to support her.

What…happened? Saffron gasped.

Nothing much, PePé assured her. I just had an unexpected brush with a power line while I put in your new window.

Are you okay?

Fine. I happened to have my rubber gloves and boots on. No harm done. But it does put us back a little, I guess. Can’t work in the dark.

No. I guess not.

Well, you’ve had a scare, Florecita. Why don’t we go sit on the patio and have some root beer?

Saffron pushed upwards past her father-in-law and into the hall. At the end, she could see into her own room and then the new room beyond with its flapping plastic where the other window should be, where she expected that PePé was working today. She padded towards the new room, one hand on her belly. Her eyes were drawn upwards by a new patch of sky as she entered the room.

Wh-what? What’s this? We never discussed a skylight.

Surprise.

>>>>>>>>

He still knocked on the door, even though he was always expected. The fact that no one answered did not surprise. He knocked again, a little louder. He shifted the blooming azalea around in the crook of his arm, adjusting his grip.

The door opened just a crack and flew open wide. Polly Templeton stepped out and threw her arm around his neck.

Oh, my little brother! she exclaimed. What a wonderful surprise.

You look radiant, he told her.

Polly’s smile withered. You don’t need to humor me, Peter. I know I’m looking pretty wan. And let’s face it. I’m bald.

But it’s a lovely turban you have--

Fiddle-dee-dee. I look like Norma Desmond in detox.

Peter changed the subject by thrusting the azalea towards his sister.

Gorgeous, she said, taking the flowers in hand. I see you were smart enough to buy them already blossomed. You knew there was no time to spare.

I just picked the cheapest one.

Polly loosed a rousing laugh and hugged Peter with one arm. That’s my boy. Come in and join me for a cup of hemlock.

Peter trailed his sister into the kitchen where she stashed the flowerpot on the counter and poked about in the cupboards. He settled himself on a stool on the other side of the breakfast bar and watched as she brought out the cups, twirling them about their handles.

You seem in good spirits, Peter commented.

You like herbal tea? I’ve forgotten.

I’ll have what you’re having.

Steamed self-pity?

How’s Lyn doing?

Polly dug through her tea stash in silence.

Taking it hard, I guess? Peter said.

Stoic and heroic. I hardly have any idea that he notices my condition. Polly filled the cups with water.

You want him to be more upset, perhaps? Peter said.

Polly chose a tea and removed two bags. It would be nice to hear him say…something. I don’t exactly know what, except that I’ll know it when I hear it. She plunked the bags into the cups and loaded them into the microwave.

How about ‘I don’t know what I’m going to do without you’? I’m losing my… his voice cracked as he started back up. ---my big sister.

Polly took Peter’s hand in hers and kissed it. On second thought, maybe Lyndsey is doing me a favor. I can’t bear to hear that kind of talk.

>>>>>>>>

Emmy refilled the water can and turned to pour some water into the pothos that draped around the top of the breakfast bar. Water dripped out of the bottom of the pot and spilled across the front of a portrait that showed Emmy smiling at the shoulder of a man with a broad face and bald head.

Oh, she crooned. Look what you’ve done to Albert’s face. She wiped the water away with a dish towel. There he is. You don’t remember him, of course. He died before you were a shoot. What a fine man.

Emmy? a voice called. A door slammed somewhere.

I’m here, Bobbi, Emmy answered.

Bobbi came to her, working her satchel off as she walked. Sorry it took so long. You called while I was teaching. I got the message and came right home.

Did I? Did I call you, dear?

Yes. You called me and said you needed my advice and I was to hurry. You sounded scared. What happened?

Emmy looked out to the patio and then to the watering can. She looked to the curtains and then to the fern. I remember it now. Yes. Those people were throwing things and shouting, the people next door. The woman told him no. He drove away.

I know, Emmy. They do that all the time. The trouble is, until Sugar either turns him in to the police or leaves him, nothing will get done.

But it doesn’t seem right, us not doing anything for her.

Bobbi let the satchel slide to the floor at her feet. I’m a graphic arts teacher, not a social worker. Maybe I could ask someone else at school how to help, but I’m out of ideas myself. Maybe you could try to go over and make friends with her.

I don’t know. I hate to impose on anyone.

They impose on you often enough with their fighting. It’s in your space once it leaves their house. Bobbi shouldered her satchel and added, Since I’m home anyway, I’m going to take a shower and then head over to see Polly. I won’t be long. I’ll cook you some dinner when I come back.

Oh, don’t worry, dear. I’ll cook us something.

Bobbi shook her head and loped out of the kitchen. Emmy addressed the pothos. I’m so glad I rented that room out. Albert would have loved her just as I do.

She opened the refrigerator and poked around, humming as she appraised the items inside. Oh, that Bobbi…she cleaned out again. She’s so squeamish about a bitty bit of mold. That’s one thing. You shouldn’t waste food. I wish she understood that. She snagged a container with a whipped cream label and popped the lid. Look there. She didn’t notice this one. What a great surprise for her when she comes back and finds a batch of that good goulash all piping hot and ready.

>>>>>>>>

Look there, Dinah called. She slouched in the front seat of the cruiser squinting about at the neighborhood while they sat in park at the base of the circle that looped around the end of the road. She snapped up straight as she spoke and nudged her partner.

Sam grunted in reply, more intent on the crackling rumbles from the radio. It’s an armed robbery down at the BusyMart. I can’t make out the address but it could be the one just over--

Shush, Dinah scolded. I’m seeing something you might find interesting. Angel Morales just pulled up and he saw something of interest over by the Westcott place. He just veered over there at a dead heat.

Sam shook his head. I missed the call, Officer Saris. The robbers could be here right in the next few minutes. I think I hear the heat behind them just now. He bailed out of the cruiser and pulled away, turning his back to the Morales place.

Dinah emerged from the car, her eyes trained on the Morales house. Something about it seemed askew but she couldn’t place it.

Yes, Sam said. His face when he turned to Dinah was dominated by glowing eyes and a toothy grin. Listen. In the distance, sirens wailed, coming closer.

You’re happy someone just committed a violent crime, Dinah observed.

Earlier you wanted an innocent man to fall off his ladder. Sam tipped his nose to the Morales house as he spoke. Like Dinah, his attention centered on some detail out of place. Isn’t that a power line down over the garage?

Dinah barely caught a shifting movement in the shadows beside the Westcott garage. She sprinted off towards the place where a man’s figure appeared for only a moment. The power line slipped off the garage and settled on the lawn. Stop! Dinah hollered. Behind her, Sam bellowed at her to cease and desist but she kept plunging towards the Westcott home.

She repeated her command to stop to Raisa Westcott when she opened her garage door. Don’t move!

Raisa put her arms up and said, Figures. Sydney is the one sneaking around sabotaging things and I’m the one who gets arrested.

You’re not being arrested. You’re being warned. There’s a live wire on the ground.

Raisa lowered her arms. Well, in case you’re interested, he’s getting away.

He’s not getting away. Angel Morales is on it. I’m just trying to keep him from going overboard.

Why?

Someone howled from the walkway between the Raisa’s home and the next unit.

>>>>>>>>

The doorbell sounded in the Daniels home.

Sugar snatched the cat off the counter where he had been purring loudly enough to be heard across the room. The plate of tuna shifted and clattered. The cat yowled a protest.

I can’t be seen with you, Sugar explained. The doorbell rang again.

Sugar hustled the cat to the patio door and slipped him out. She pulled the curtains, hiding the patio from view.

The doorbell tolled one more time before Sugar opened the door, one hand holding the sweatshirt closed, her shoulders hunched. She found her neighbor, Emerald, perched on her welcome mat, holding a flaccid little fern struggling to hold itself up from within a shiny pot.

Hi, the neighbor lady said. I’m Emmy from next door. I wondered if you might have some use for this little plant. My collection is just getting too big.

Sugar accepted the plant and stepped back, pushing the door towards her visitor to close it.

Wait! Emmy exclaimed, one hand raised.

Sugar opened the door slightly wider.

I just wanted to tell you that…I’m…you know…right over there if you need me. I can…I’ve got…plenty of everything. You can…come over whenever you want.

Sugar nodded and forced a half-smile onto her face. Her eyes darted onto the road, watching for the black Hummer.

Well. I don’t mean to keep you. I’m sure you’re very busy.

The phone rang. Sugar snapped into a stiff upright position and slammed the door shut. She watched through the side window as Emmy shook her head and retreated muttering to herself. She answered the phone, contented that the neighbor had gone back to her own space.

Oscar’s voice bellowed, What do you mean by making me wait? Do you have a man over there?

Her voice quivered just as her shoulders did. N-n-no. Just…there’s only me.

You’re lying, as usual. What have you been doing?

I’m…baking.

It better not get in the way of my dinner. I want a decent meal for a change.

No. I’ll be done.

Quit wasting our time and get moving. There’s a fillet of salmon in the fridge. I want it baked with rice pilaf. You got that?

Yes, dear.

As Sugar pulled out the salmon, she heard the yowl of the little cat on the patio and the scratch of his claws on the door. She crossed over and opened the curtains and doors. The cat pranced in, purring, and rubbed her shin. She scooped him up and hugged him with her free arm. He grabbed for the salmon, making her giggle.

>>>>>>>>

Bobbi Kamil scurried out of the way of Sam Tranh as he barreled down the sidewalk brandishing his night stick.

He went in there! he shouted, as if he wanted her to join him in the pursuit of the suspect.

Bobbi shrugged in reply and continued down the sidewalk. She had to stop as she headed across the street to let a careening power company truck swing around her, squealing its tires as it skidded into the driveway of the Morales home. Saffron stood beside the driveway with her arms crossed, PePé wringing his hands beside her. Angel stood beside his father, bent over at the waist, huffing and gasping for breath. The cop cruiser that seemed to be looping around the court every hours of every day stood nearby, unattended, with one door wide open.

Bobbi hurried her step, afraid that any delay might somehow endanger her chances of seeing Polly before the inevitable happened. The end was not supposed to come so soon but life is never certain. She arrived on Polly’s doorstep bathed in sweat.

In answer to the doorbell, a strange man in a suit and tie appeared and opened the door.

Oh, Bobbi gasped. Are you the doctor?

No, the lawyer.

Here for the will?

Well, to secure my place in it. I’m Peter, Polly’s brother. You must be Barbara.

Bobbi. Most people call me Bobbi. How is she?

You tell me. You see her more often than I do.

Polly rocked herself with one foot, her other legged crossed over her knee. She’d found a place in the shade, beside the umbrella on her patio. Her hands encircled the tea cup, taking in its warmth. Bobbi greeted her with a kiss on the head.

Can I get you some tea, Bobbi? Peter called from inside the house.

Please. Just black.

Polly pulled Bobbi’s arm until she stooped over, her ear to Polly’s lips.

He’s a catch, Polly crooned.

Bobbi groaned and whispered, For someone else. He’s not my style.

I’m dying, you know.

I hate when you play that card.

It’s all I’ve got, kid.

Peter nudged Bobbi and, when she turned, he gave her the tea. She noticed the kindness in his eyes. Her cheeks burned as she thanked him and settled into the chair opposite Polly. She slipped slightly as she went down and partially upended a small table. Polly loosed a melodic laugh in response while Peter offered his hand in assistance.

On the other side of the patio wall, someone cast a shadow and then leaned across one splayed hand, breathing hard. A siren wailed in the street.

Episode Two

Raisa Westcott teetered on her tiptoes. She could hear a soft buzz of Spanish mutters in the Morales’ patio, punctuated by nasal protests, none of it above a whisper. No knowledge of the language was necessary. PePé’s contrite tone and the pleading voice of Saffron as she stumbled in the unfamiliar tongue, coupled with Angel’s exasperated sighs, were enough to know that the little family was once again