Eyes of the Raptor

By Gypsy Quill

BASED ON A TRUE STORY!

—Aaron worries his daddy is not alive because of something he saw happen to him!!

—A spirit Journey leads Monet and Aaron to—Canyon Country where Aaron is eventually healed. The ancient and sacred spirit of the Eagle protects them in the Sonora Desert!

—Poe continues to research and reveal a part of history, that history left out! Lieutenant Ives’ narration of-- the first exploration--of the Colorado River and The Grand Canyon by
a U.S. citizen, ‘The Ives Expedition’—1857-58.When war breaks out between Indians and
U.S. Troops!

—Poe found his diary, that was stowed away, and let Counselor read it. A story he called
“HELL” revealing what it was like in prison!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 12, 2016
• ISBN: 9781514422984

Gypsy Quill

—Part II of “Th e Canyon’s Shadow” trilogy. Travel the world with Gypsy Quill. Readers enjoy, and are intrigued by, Gypsy Quill’s hybrid voice. He grabs the reading audience right away. Th e author paints pictures for you as he writes. He has a gift for conveying the depth of the characters and drawing YOU into the story. His words are so beautifully inlaid with passion and such strong messages it is easy to get hooked! EYES of the RAPTOR’ is part two of the author’s new trilogy! FOR THE BEST OF PERSONAL MEMOIRS Book author Gypsy Quill, known for his unique true stories, guarantees to fill your appetite with THIS AND EVERY ONE OF HIS BOOKS. He has been writing since early childhood and lets his journey through life speak for itself in his stories. An award winning writer, his talent comes in many forms. Th is attribute of versatility shines in his polished storytelling. He has been a journalist, was inducted into the International Society of Poets and has written and published numerous books internationally. Most notably and most recently—part one of this trilogy—‘THE CANYON’S SHADOW’—which is listed on Amazon.com, Xlibris.com, Barnes & Nobles.com, and Googlebooks.com. To read inside of part one for free visit WWW.GYPSYQUILL.COM / VIA GOOGLE SEARCH. Or if you just want more information on this storybook author, the aforementioned website is the place to be. You may also follow him on Facebook.com.

Book preview

Copyright © 2012 by Gypsy Quill.

ISBN:   Softcover       978-1-5144-2299-1

              eBook            978-1-5144-2298-4

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American copyright conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, or scanning devices, photo-copying, or recording, without permission in writing from the author at www.gypsyquill.com, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 01/08/2016

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This book titled ‘Eyes of the Raptor’— Copyright—©—2012—Gypsy Quill is a hybrid of two true stories intertwined into one, like two vines weave together. One side of the story is narrated by Lieutenant Ives marked by accents such as these (‘ ’). Narration by Ives is authentic. The Story of The Ives Expedition of 1857-58 is non-fiction, originally entitled Colorado, river of the west©1860-J.C.Ives and is a historical find by Poe Walker, which history books left out. Dialogue in that story was created in this book by Gypsy Quill true to the original meaning to break the monotony. The other story, is one of modern-day about Poe, Aaron and Monet Walker and is based on a true story, but names of people, dates and places in that story have been changed, to protect the innocent. Therefore, the latter mentioned—Is a true story, but with fictitious names of people, dates, and places. ‘Eyes of the Raptor’ is part two of ‘The Canyon’s Shadow’ Trilogy—Copyright—©—2012—Gypsy Quill All rights reserved under International and Pan-American copyright conventions. Work on this novel began in 1998. It was not written consistently. The story was seeded from the poem: The Canyon’s Shadow©1999-P.W. written in 1998, which was born from a premonition. The work on the trilogy was completed in the year 2012. All poetry printed in this book is epic poetry, a part of the novel, and helps tell the story; and was written and copyrighted and is owned by the author, as follows: The following poems are part of a collection of poetry called, Mountain Of Dreams,—©—2002—Gypsy Quill, ‘All rights reserved’. All poetry in this book is part of the aforementioned collection of poetry, Mountain Of Dreams, The individual titles of poems are as follows::Mountain Of Dreams, Shadow Of Man, Changes, Who Am I, I Was Thinking, Hope, The Moon Sat On Wotan’s Throne, Time’s War. In addition the lyrics to the poem—‘Fly Away©—copyright—1972—Gypsy Quill has been added to this book. All of the sketches in this book are 158 year old authentic sketches of real people and places along the Colorado river in, Arizona, USA that were originally drawn during the Ives Expedition 1857-58:drawn by; Mollhausen / Egloffstein, or photographed, or sketched by Ives. as noted beneath each sketch.

There’s a moment, while the setting sun is in the phase between day and night. And The Heart of Serenity paints a passionate face on troubled water, when Time’s Shadow slowly fades… in the ‘Eyes of the Raptor.’

—Gypsy Quill

CONTENTS

Preface

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

19

20

21

22

PREFACE

The moonlit glimmer on the snow caps of the French Alps is pictured in my window. And oh what memories it brings back…

When I was a kid our family lived in a tiny village named after a nearby mountain. The village nestled in the heart of the Provence Region, in a remote area near Arles, France. In the summer sunny slopes at high altitude became my favorite country side in the entire world! And home to the Mourvedre grape. To my intrigue, they only have to age for four months in oak barrels when they produce excellent French wine, another favorite!.

Being that I am the oldest of my siblings I always watched over my baby sister, Monet, who I loved dearly. She had a lot of problems beginning in early childhood. But we had an attachment and she always told me everything. I tried to help her, because she didn’t communicate appropriately, but better with me. I think it was more like a state of shock! Nevertheless, the damage was beyond repair. But it would become more evident later in life as her mental problem surfaced. And one my Father never liked to talk about!

Our cousin Pauly had been living with us and he had some behavioral problems, but until it happened, I never realized just how serious they were. The strangest thing and… from what it revealed, I knew from this moment forward Monet would never be the same!

I had been eyeballing my bedroom but didn’t see any potential. Of course it was pitch black at two am, I know because I glanced at the little red numbers on the digital alarm clock—another sleepless and lonely night. But at least the storm had blown over.

Suddenly a rumble vibrated up my bed and I sat up with my feet on the floor. It felt as if a wild horse was trotting in the kitchen as if it was trying to break loose from its corral. The light came on in there, I know because I could see it through the crack of my bedroom door frame. My name was distinctly yelled out—Connie!

I arose upon my feet and hurried into the kitchen. Opening my door I saw the young girl jumping up and down pulling strings of hair over her eyes and screaming at the top of her lungs. I could see and feel her pain by the redness in the face and the tears gushing out like a rapid in a river and rolling down the cheeks above her wide open mouth. Speechless as I felt, I tried to make sense of it. I squatted down, embracing the atrocity with a comforting hug.

You know you can trust me—right?

The girl continued in her hysterical state and began moving her head up and down—then, right and left while staring straight ahead, again and again. She repeated the same process until I grabbed her and shook her out of it. Look at me!

I told her. I am here to help you. You know I love you! Crying louder she began to speak to me.

I dreamed Pauly chased me and poked his finger in my eye and then he grabbed a big saw and cut my feet off!! little Monet belted out as she continued to cry.

But you know this was only a nightmare, you are safe here now he can’t get to you anymore. He has gone away! It didn’t really happen.

Still crying hysterically, sucking deep breaths in a non-rhythmic pattern, Monet continued. "The other part did! I also dreamed something just now that really happened before in real life! It was back when P-Pauly still lived with us. He held me down and let his friend put his pee-pee in me!!"

1

Sixteen years later…

Lake Charles is not a major metropolis, but a city of good size. And although it nestles around the Lake it is named after, just like any city there is the competitive market of down town. The hustle and bustle of the tedious business of traffickers late for work, meetings, school, or some pressing thing; better known as the rat race of the city. But not on this one day! None of this reality was overwhelming on the streets. In fact, all was an absolute fun time and as pretty as the bright blue sky!

A Cajun Rock Band filled the atmosphere with a Deep-South cultural sound of music, as the annual Crawfish Festival was being held on Heritage Square in front of the Civic Center. The town hosted a large gathering on the Lake front, near the beach, as well. The event settled an air of carnival, spreading cheer with the delicious smell of French Cuisine and even had booths selling Cajun candy, such as Pralines, a caramel colored sweet candy hardened over pecans. The festival created colorful sights and excitement of rides throughout the fair grounds, including of course a carousel. The day promised to be a kid’s heaven. But moreover, the boat parade out on The Lake, a strikingly colorful and unusual event caught the attention of all.

A multi-colored cloud of red, blue, and white balloons floated above the bright orange wig of the local ‘Town-Clown’ named Gumbo. He pranced in his flamboyant and obnoxious looking jump suit he proudly wore of colored fringes—florescent green, red, and yellow. A pair of ugly old scuffed up brown over-sized shoes added to his outrageous and hilarious character. And one, which was that of a jester, flipping cartwheels and overly exaggerating people’s words they spoke, mimicking their facial expressions and used theatrical pantomimes. He proceeded in yanking abrupt and loud peels of laughter from the whole crowd.

All of the aforementioned had stirred Aaron’s emotions into high octane explosiveness and led to a state of berserk. It had been some unknown condition yet to be diagnosed. An out of control frenzy, which triggered the thirteen year old into a relentless run throughout the festive crowd, stressing his mother Monet to no end! He was small for his age and could maneuver quicker than you would think! And in this state of mind, as usual, he laughed without pause. The constant giggle sounded very similar to a child-laugh-bag. Especially when he disrupted people, Aaron laughed at their shocked expressions immensely out-loud! Of course the crowd was speechlessly confused. And during the run… he became as disruptive as a human-hurricane: popping Gumbo’s balloons; turning over tables of crawfish onto the guests, who were trying to eat the red-hot-boiled crustaceans; while Aaron was crawling under tables and to the opposite side, just when Monet thought she had caught him! And thence, Aaron climbed on top and ran across the innumerable adjoined tables, which stretched Heritage Square for a considerable length and width, while he commenced to run and laugh but this time… in the opposite direction.

A continued run while Aaron squished the delicious baked Catfish Bienville or flavorful Crawfish Etoufee, and Jambalaya; and toppled over bowls of Seafood Gumbo, and other famous French Cuisine dishes served! He ruined their meals right in front of the people’s eyes before they could see it coming. It was a chaotic turn of event, which only exhausted Monet, mentally, emotionally and physically and all at the same time. Monet had experienced this type of out of control behavior many times before. But, it was not something she could ever get use to. A living hell!!

The annual festival was a splurge of entertainment all over the Square in the down town area, until Lake Charles met Aaron. More and more a small crowd of followers began to accumulate and follow out of curious concern mixed with anger, at the loss of their meals.

Although you wouldn’t read into it by the sound of his laughter, there was a hugely depressing reason the child was orchestrating this charade and did not… care!! Who could guess why at this time? His condition had taken its toll on him, coupled with the excitement of the outdoor event and a large public crowd he was now blessed to be allowed to mingle with, was the culprit of his actions. But the little boy had worsened immensely since his step-dad, who Aaron simply called—Dad—had moved out west. Poe Walker had become the boy’s idol, who Aaron trusted more than his real father. And he was the only person Aaron wanted to live with!

Aaron running from Monet was very upset deep inside and began exploiting it with wet eyes, a pale white face turned every bit as red as the boiled crustaceans, while he commenced to crying and yelling… You’re lying—I don’t believe you!!

Monet, in her stout Acadienne Riviere accent warned. "Oui Oui Messieur… you bett—ure—comb, BACH… here!!" she said. Monet continued with a demanding fury, "don’t run fraum me-e-e!" she huffed and puffed, wiping sweat off her brows, and exhausting quickly.

Monet’s system played out being the heavy smoker, something she got from her pipe smoking father, a habit you might call his better half. He was married to his pipe and had he lived long enough, he would have worn an indentation on his bottom lip, where his pipe was affixed most of the time! But he had died recently of lung cancer in his sixties. It seemed Monet was trying to compete. It had been obvious to everyone who knew her, for years, smoking was in her blood. But smoking like a train filled the void of the coke addiction, or, at least it was an attempt, to kill the craving. A constant craving for snorting nose candy—that expensive white powder—up her nose!!

But Aaron, on the other hand, was a smoking gun to keep up with. He was a quick-draw-hot-pistol. A GONE-PECAN, before you knew it! Everyone who knew him knew he was a difficult child. And one who frequently kept a room at The Isle of Paris Mental Hospital. His second home! He had been recently released by his new doctor who was trying a different approach—to trust him! Monet decided to take him to the festival to get his mind off his—Dad.

At this point Gumbo the clown, realized something was wrong with Aaron, who had destroyed a number of his balloons, and decided he was the likely candidate to get Aaron’s attention and make him laugh… his way… while calming the boy down enough to reason with him. He joined in on the chase but slightly lagged behind… with hopes he’d put a stop to the total disarray Aaron imposed on the Crawfish Festival.

Gumbo was gaining momentum on him at the beach, but Aaron was quick to dart towards Heritage Square and lose him. The crowd on the beach was thinning rapidly and progressing towards the square as the people were following to see the outcome! Aaron ran into a two story building and up the stairs he went. Screeching and stomping up the stair well, like an ever-ready battery, his energy never gave out!

We are going to be in big trouble with Dr. Mayeaux, who is trying to trust you. Monet Barked.

I don’t care… he stopped running, to take a breath. Because I know my Daddy is dead! He continued to run, don’t follow me.

The doctor had been Aaron’s newly assigned child-psychiatrist, and the first authorized over Aaron as an out patient, due to none of the previous Psych-teams in the institution worked, as many times as he had been in the mental hospital, and that figure… Monet had stopped counting. Work-up after work-up on his numerous sets of—diagnosis/medicines/ as well as numerous, doctor’s teams, were all dismal failures one after another. His doctors had been pulling out their hair trying to analyze an impossible mind boggling riddle! Aaron had been treated for numerous mental conditions at the exact same time recently and the problems grew more… No matter how many times they re-did his treatment, nothing worked and he’d end up back in the mental ward.

The crowd of followers now unable to break their interests in the matter and wanted to see the outcome of the chase, slowly continued to build, satisfying their curiosity by listening in on the argument. All noise of the streets quieted and they stood silent, with shock-ridden-expressions on their faces. But nothing fazed Aaron, while Monet thought him to be performing his usual button pressing performance of mind control and manipulation!! The little feisty blond headed boy continued to run up the flight of stairs and proceeded to begin on the second flight but paused to check to see if his mother was still following. Monet coupled over in pain trying to gasp for a second wind. The police had arrived, and were on the way to meet the crowd of by standers.

I’m gonna jump if you don’t let me see my Daddy! The abrupt murmur of the crowd scattered a sound of concern and distraught!

"He’s not gonna jump," Monet assured the crowd of people but that was the wrong thing to say. In no time at all Aaron made it up the second flight and climbed up on to the roof locking the last and heavy door from the inside! The small thirteen year old suddenly appeared standing on the ledge of the rooftop and the crowd belted a huge yell that seemed to hit the air, like a brick wall, all at once! Followed by mixed emotions unleashing desultory conversations, of which slowly silenced into a complete hush!

If I don’t see my Daddy now, I’m gonna jump!

Gumbo began to try to make him laugh. But no matter how funny he became, the boy wore a solemn face with no more laughter, a complete switch in personality. Gumbo pushed his way to the center of the crowd and barked.

I have a little boy about your age and I sure wouldn’t want to see him jump from a building, don’t you think your Daddy would miss you if you jumped?

"Yes, that’s right, little darlin’ . . . you should wait and give your Daddy a chance to talk to you." A woman concluded.

My Daddy, is not… alive, crying he sighs, and continues with teary eyes and a choked up vocal biting his bottom lip, My mom is a liar!

Why do you think he’s dead? another man yelled.

"I know it," Aaron insisted.

Monet reached the roof top and stopped to take a big-saving-breath. Yelling through the door Aaron—my Sunflower, I’m not… lying! Please believe me, your Daddy is alive!

Don’t come any closer or I’ll jump! Aaron warned.

The murmur of the crowd in the street below continued. While the wind whistled through the Magnolia tree tops near the ledge. The huge white flowers shed such sweet fragrance in the air, and the sun shone down strong from a bright blue sky, while the situation was nauseating, and what a two fold thought Monet stressed… teary eyed, as if to beg please!! We’ve been trying to keep from putting you back in the hospital, but this is not helping our situation and if you don’t listen to me they are gonna have to put you back in that place! I want you to prove to them that you can listen to me.

"Well I’m not listening because you are lying… I don’t believe he’s alive! If I don’t see my Daddy right now… I’m going to jump!"

Monet tried to jiggle the door handle. Come on sweetie, you are my little sunflower! Don’t you know that? I promise to prove to you that he is alive!

No, I’ll never believe you. I don’t trust you, because you are a liar!

Gumbo continued to charm him and talk reason to him. The crowd had come to a complete hush. Security had arrived but the fire truck had not yet come to the rescue. Yet, you could hear the sirens blaring from the truck and ambulance team from a far distance! And the Police helped them manage to get a door open.

About that time Aaron turned toward the ledge and approached. Monet cried and pleaded, begging— please my little sunflower, come here!

Then Aaron stepped forward to the edge and… jumped!!

Oh my God… MY GOD… O_H_H_H_H—my baby… oh no-no-no-no, Monet screamed at the top of her lungs running to the edge to look to see. Police followed quickly to grab her from falling over.

The crowd was full of screams throughout the front of the building and crying and people falling to their knees. But little Aaron lied on the ground still as death. Monet began to throw up and fell on the roof top and was hardly able to function in any human way. She had lost all breath of life as she watched her son plunge to the ground, right before her eyes. In total disbelief she went into a nervous breakdown shaking like a leaf and an officer embraced her and comforted her, as she cried herself to hysterics, and completely lost all control screaming over and over and over again!

Screaming at God, at life itself, because the warders of her brain were empty of all thought and did not want to think it to be true as if some nightmare had happened and she just needed to wake up. But deep down she knew it was real as she continued screaming to no end!

The turn of events had taken its toll on Monet to the extreme she finally passed out. And at the awakening from the whole dilemma she had been placed into a hospital and improved. Arising from the bed she pulled out the tube from her arm and changed from her hospital gown back into her previously rich-dressed fashion because she knew she had to face reality, face Dr. Mayeaux. And off she went to do just that!

Heartfelt tears wet sad eyes as she stared at Aaron’s picture. Monet had kept it and carried it with her, as she calmly sat in the back of the black limo, which was slowly turning on to the long and winding single-lane-dirt-road.

The attire she wore gave away she had been well spoiled by Mystery Man. 24k diamond rings on both hands, with a matching diamond necklace, weren’t enough. Even her diamond bikini G-String stood out as it could be seen through the see through silk pants she sat in. Monet was known to love her riches, but her mental stamina had been completely exhausted as she stared into oblivion, for everything in her life had changed and at this point seemed meaningless. Distraught had settled in and she couldn’t keep her focus too well anymore.

Two patches of well kept green lawn on either side of the road set off a peace of mind; both sides of which, at the center of each lawn lined a perfectly uniformed row of southern Live Oak trees. The majestic crowns spread wide and hanging low toward the ground, with a melancholy look of long drooping grey moss, as if it were planted all over as ornaments, but each dangling in the breeze like an old man’s long and frail beard. All of which, reflected an obscured setting of dark shadows intermittently and diagonally angled across the road from both sides. This scenery carried on for who knows how far, and a slow turn to the left way up ahead, cut into a deep forest of trees on either side.

But during the present drive on the one lane, on the opposite side of the trees and much farther away from the Live oaks to the left, lined a wooden cross-board fence, painted white, that of which we’ve all seen in a country setting of a Norman Rockwell painting. It bordered a field parallel to the Live Oaks. Just inside the fence, and for a long ways, a short cut pasture was lit bright with sunshine throughout and loaded with bails of hay she had lost count of. The bundles of horse vegetation temporarily captured her train of thought and could be seen for a great distance!

It all went wrong on Lake Street Monet thought… The Crawfish Festival of all places . . .

She had become rich but no prestigious look could change the ailment she was dealing with. Monet had suffered from Schizophrenia since childhood, but fought it—and not following treatments correctly! The driver was taking her to The Isle of Paris Mental Hospital.

The narrow country road went on forever and made good for a spell of total relaxation before the arrival. It was just what she needed, really!

Comfortably rested in the office chair before the good Dr’s desk she nervously tried to light her cigarette. But her hand shook immensely, while she missed and missed again, until Dr. Mayeaux calmly ended the battle when he took the lighter from her and flicked it into a small flame. She drew and exhaled with a big sigh of relief, and a large cloud burst into the room.

How long have you been smoking?

Why?

Your nicotine addiction shows.

Meanwhile you pop pills and down them with scotch on the rocks with your peers, in fancy cocktail lounges at the cost of your patients.

Not true, but you’re quick to judge Monet!

Not anymore than you Doctor.

He slowly paced around his desk eyeballing her every twitch, her expressions, and any other tool for analyzing as he made his way along to finally be seated him self and he said. Try to relax Monet. It isn’t the end of the world.

Not yet anyway!

Look at the bright side, he responded. I am here to help you!

"What bright side, spare me!!" She growled. And… gee, thanks for the emotional rescue. She puffed on her cancer stick.

You could use some appreciation you know!

I’m all out of room for your Psychiatric speech Doctor. You know what I’m here for.

So!

So cut the crap, and get to your point of interest with me so I can go.

She seemed to know all the tricks of the trade that Psychiatrists used for picking brains and analyzing to the point of mind control. It wasn’t going to be easy and the Doctor could see that clearly.

Have you ever been treated for schizophrenia?

No and don’t give me that analytical bull shit!

In your chart from the hospital you recently were staying at after the fall of Aaron, it says you showed signs of inconsistency in your perceptions, inappropriate actions and feelings.

Sounds like most of my friends. She drew a big inhale with her legs crossed in a sophisticated position. She began daintily flicking her ashes into the large glass ash tray at the front of the desk before her. Her petite body rested in good posture.

The doctor couldn’t help but chuckle at her sarcasm… and carried on. You showed signs of withdrawal from reality into a fantasy, which is delusional!

Another cloud of smoke floated but released more slowly followed by smoke rings.

The Doctor continued. You removed the intravenous needle, from your arm.

"They had me sedated and you know it—LOOK Doctor, She barked. I’m not here for your counseling I think you know that!"

I do know that. I can help you, but we will get back to this later.

Don’t count on it. Are we done yet? she said.

The Psychiatrist knew he had to get on with a legal process and realized she was non-compliant to any help he might be to her, but he would fix that problem. However, there was a more pressing issue at hand. So, that being said, he moved forward with a plan of action which would help her in the long run and a necessity at the moment.

Yes we’re done. I will address the current situation. But I warn you, there are certain policies of law and guidelines I must follow, and I need for you to cooperate with me.

Miraculously, Aaron pulled out of the jump, and lived! Scratched up from the brush he entangled on the way down two flights, and some bruises were all he suffered! The brush must have had a connection to some Beneficent Spirit, or the Spirit of Christ, or both, so let’s just say it was Spirit! And it reached out to Aaron, the brush that caught him from death. It wasn’t his time to go!

He needs to see his dad, immediately! It is mandatory or I will refuse to continue with this case! When he is released from the medical facility, completely healed, part of his prescription of medicine is for him to visit with his dad. So he can see for him self, that he is in fact alive. This is mandatory!

Yes, I know he needs to see him. Aaron doesn’t trust me. He says I am a Liar. But I am just glad he lived!

He lived this time… but if ever there is a next time, he may not. Also the state will want him to be placed into an institution indefinitely if I fail with my treatment. But at least then, he won’t be able to commit suicide!

Are you blaming me?

Your actions speak for themselves.

What do you mean?

Aaron has already informed the state that you don’t give him the medication the same way each time and some times you think you already gave it to him and he says you forget. Then… he doesn’t get his medicine, and he says that is why he ends up back in the hospital.

We shall overcome doctor. I will take Aaron to see his dad, and we will get him back to the way he was.

"It’s not that simple Monet. The state is concerned about what Aaron has told them. But, if you cooperate with me, I can help you this time!"

I will take him to see his dad, as I said, and I will cooperate with what ever you want!

"OK… I am ordering not asking, and I want you to take the boy to him as soon as he is released and not a day later—ARE-WE-CLEAR?"

Yes doctor!

I hope so, because if anything else happens I will sign him over to the state of Louisiana.

Yes, Dr. Mayeaux.

"And one more thing… in order for me to get the state to agree to Aaron’s release to you, you must first sign a paper allowing me to treat you for Schizophrenia before you leave today, and I will prescribe the medicine. Because, I have explained to the state, you have been inconsistent medicating Aaron due to your disorder of Schizophrenia, that has been mal-treated. This is actually in your favor and our only fight for you to keep custody, or they would have considered the lack of doses of medicines, as child abuse. But we must begin your treatment today! Other wise… he stays here at the Isle of Paris!

2

Williams, Arizona… here we come, the only thing I dread is the uphill climb. At least it’s interstate! Counselor belted out, but with a half lit expression of excitement as it seemed to only begin to stir her emotions.

Oh I meant to tell you… White Feather got her story mixed up. I don’t know what I’d do without her messenger service, but it was Aaron who had jumped.

Oh??

"So Monet is bringing him out here instead, to see me as part of his treatment by his Doctor’s order! White feather gave me the corrected message yesterday."

But I thought you said he is your step son from Monet’s first marriage. Isn’t Corbin his father?

Yes, but honestly he doesn’t trust Corbin. He trusts me. Besides, Corbin doesn’t know his own son. He tends to stay busy mostly in France. He never spends any time with Aaron. The boy considers me his dad and looks up to me!

When was the last time Aaron visited his father?

He actually has not… since Monet left Corbin years ago and came over from France.

Well I remember you telling me Corbin was involved with the Corsican Mafia, and let Monet out of it, but I figured he’d still want to see his son.

"It is Aaron who will not see him!"

Well I hope you and Monet can work out Aaron’s problems. It’s a shame, he is so young and his life ahead of him!

I’m certain we will work it all out in time. I’m the only Dad he’s ever known! In fact, he calls me Daddy!!

Yes you will work it all out, and Poe this day is for you and we cannot get all stressed about things so let’s just enjoy our time.

What coaxed you to take the Chrysler? Poe asked.

Don’t you like my big fine fancy car?

Oh yes, ha-ha… it’s just a curiosity since we have always ridden in the Ford compact. What, this big long gas-a-holic and you ask if I like it? But of course I like it. In fact, it is riding in style and with a lot a class I’m not used to—I love it!

This is a special day, not just because it’s a Sunday drive and in our Sunday’s best, but it is going to be your first visit at the Canyon. I wanted you to ride in style!!

I am thrilled and excited at that, my dream-come-true is long over due, actually!

Well it’s not going to be the kind of visit you will probably do again another time when you can spend a day. The sun goes down pretty quick at the Canyon, so we are limited… this time!

It was a long uphill climb from Devil’s Fork up I-40 going east, through the pristine Kaibab National Forest. That which stretched on forever it seemed. They arrived in Williams, a tiny tourist town that nestled around the foot of Bill Williams Mountain. Better known as—The Gateway to the Grand Canyon. The Chrysler met its destiny at a very early time, in the greenest little town you will ever see. The main drag, being Route 66 was lined with tourist shops and restaurants as the main part of the town. Two famous places were The Pine’s Restaurant and Miss Kitty’s. Both serve outstanding dishes and at a very reasonable price. Every one passes through Williams on the way to the sacred chasm. That is why it is better known as The Gateway to the Grand Canyon.

Now remember, we’re not going to stay long at Lake Kaibab. Penny knows that, and she brought along my grand daughter, Kelly, to let you know. So you will finally get to know her!

How old is she?

She is nineteen going on thirty… he, he, he. Counselor barked. And she says she is NOT… British—like me, she is American!

Laughter arose, Where was she born?

Here, in Arizona!

American indeed, born on this soil she is a native!

Well I guess it’s hard for me to grasp, it seems like yesterday when I moved my daughter Penny at a young age of about five years old here to the states from England. She has kept her British accent but my grand daughter doesn’t carry it.

Route 66 curved as it passed the heart of town and ducked under a train-bridge, for the Santa Fe. A train led by a bright orange engine, which carried history of the west and was steadily and slowly passing across in front of their view left to right, as they went under the bridge it was railing on. On the other side of the railway-bridge… the highway curved to the left and as an elbow turn persisted, suddenly Route 66 became highway 64 headed straight for The Grand Canyon.

A few miles farther and a large brown state sign labeled the name ‘Kaibab Lake’ in white letters, stood at the right of the road, but with an arrow pointing to the left. The classy ride turned to the left where they crossed over an old cattle guard as it laid over a wide stream and they were suddenly on a paved one lane, long and winding country road, secluded in a thick Pine forest, on their way to the picnic! Penny and Kelly had already arrived and were set up at a park table beneath