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 My Three Brides

   Part 5

   Spring `82

   The spring was approaching.  One day the colonel addressed Stan.  "Stan,
my boy, the Van der Meers are having their traditional spring garden party.
We have both been invited.  I always go, and if you are my driver and
security, it is sort of incumbent on you to be there.  So I hope it isn't
too much of an imposition on you to go."

   "No sir, it wouldn't be any imposition, sir."

   "Good, I am glad you feel that way.  I know it is sometimes awkward to
run into an old lover in other situations, especially around other people."
Stan blushed, and the colonel saw it and knew he had been on target.  "You
needn't worry about me too much when we are there.  It is OK if you are
able to have a little time for yourself.  You can have some fun while
you're there.  Hendrika is a pretty girl, isn't she?"

   "Yes, sir, she is, sir."

   "But don't worry, Stan, the party isn't naked," the colonel added.

   The day of the party arrived.  Stan was required to have his sidearm. 
But from the looks of the place, it wouldn't be needed.  It was a large
house with large lawns around it.  The whole area was enclosed by a high
brick wall.  There were security people at the front gate who checked them
in.  They walked around the house and grounds.  The colonel seemed to know
a lot of the people there.  He had conversations with many people with Stan
alongside of him.  He was gracious to introduce Stan to them.

   Eventually, they ran into Hendrika.  When they did, the colonel said,
"Hendrika, how nice to see you.  You're looking lovely, as always.  You two
I take have enjoyed each other?" He said with a sort of knowing smile. 
"Stan, my boy, why don't go spend some time with her?  I'll be in the
house. There is a room, it's an interior room with no windows.  I'll be in
there.  I'll be safe here.  When you're finished, I'll be right there."

   With that Hendrika dragged him away.  "There is someone I want you to
meet." She led him over to another young girl.  A red-haired girl slightly
taller than Hendrika and a little more filled out.  He took a look at her.
She had her hair all in a braid that reached almost to her butt.  There was
a fringe of hair over her blue eyes, and her freckled face.

   She said," Stan, this is Ilse.  Ilse, this is Stan," and in a much lower
voice, she said, "This is the guy who did it."

   In a low voice and in Dutch, Ilse answered, "He is cute.  He is good?"
Hendrika vigorously nodded yes.  To Stan in English she said, "Nice to meet
you Stan." Switching back to Dutch, she asked Hendrika, "Will he?"

   "Yes, I am sure he will," Hendrika said in Dutch.

   "OK," she said back to her, "We should find them," Ilse said, still in
Dutch.

   She led them off to a nicely dressed couple, sort of distinguished
looking.  These were just the sort of people doctors might hang out with
and throw garden parties with.  Ilse spoke to them, in Dutch, "Mother,
father, this is Stan, the man, Hendrika was telling us about.  Is it OK?"

   The man spoke to him, in English, "Hello, Stan.  I am Lars De Groot and
this is my wife, Gwen."

   "Nice to meet you both," Stan said.

   Ilse was still asking him, in Dutch, "Is it OK?"

   Lars paused and looked over Stan very well.  He noted the uniform even
the side arm he was wearing.  "You are wearing a weapon?"

   "Yes, I am security for the colonel."

   "Where is he?"

   "He is inside in a safe place."

   "So you may be away from him for a while and it won't be a problem?"

   "Yes.  He will be safe.  I have his permission to travel about the party
here."

   "Then welcome Stan.  I hope you enjoy the party." He shook hands with
Stan, who nodded towards his wife, and she returned the nod with a smile.

   "Yes, be careful.  Make sure you are alone," he told Ilse in Dutch.  He
turned to Stan.  Speaking in English, he said, "It is nice to meet you,
young man.  It seems that my daughter has an urgent need of your attention.
If you will excuse us, we will allow you to attend to her needs." they
turned to go.  Ilse and Hendrika dragged him off.  They whisked him
upstairs to Hendrika's bedroom.  Once in, Hendrika locked the door.

   Ilse spoke.  "Hendrika told me what you did with her on their holiday at
the sea.  I would love it if you would give me the same."

   "Slow down a bit here.  What is that you want?" Stan asked, not
comprehending what all was taking place.

   "You did sex with Hendrika.  I want you to do the same with me."

   "How do you know what I might have done with her?" He emphasized the
might part.

   "She told me, just as she told you, that she has sex with me," Ilse
said.

   "How old are you?" Stan asked, still suspicious.

   "I am twelve," she said with a smile, showing off the braces on her
teeth.

   "What was all that bit with your parents that you were speaking in
Dutch?"

   "They give you permission to have sex with me."

   "That's what you were asking them?"

   "Yes, and they told you to take care of my needs.  So let's do it big
boy," she said, suddenly turning aggressive.  She reached out and grabbed
at Stan's crotch.  She then stepped back and turned her back to Hendrika,
who then began to unzip her dress.  She slipped it off her arms and was
soon standing in her panties and bra.  "Come on," she urged.

   Stan took off his side arm and gently put it where it wouldn't get
jostled.  It wouldn't be good if it went off accidentally.  By now Hendrika
had unhooked Ilse's bra and she was shucking it to expose two little
breasts about the size of a small tangerine.  The flesh was very white, and
the areolas were large, maybe 2cm across and very light pink.  Her nipples
were standing up.  Stan looked over at Hendrika, who had her blouse
unbuttoned exposing her training bra.  As he was unbuttoning his shirt.

   Ilse dropped her panties, showing the red hair on her mons.  Her lips
were free of hair.  She got on the bed.  Hendrika was now topless and her
pants were around her ankles and was pulling down her panties.  While Stan
opened his pants, by the time he had them down and was sitting to take them
and his shoes off, both girls were nude and in the bed waiting for him. 
With the last of his clothes off, he joined them.

   Hendrika took his soldier standing at attention and petted him, saying
to Ilse, "Didn't I tell you it was nice?"

   "Yes, it is," Ilse said, reaching over to handle it.  "It is hard and
soft at the same time," she said as she gave it a soft squeeze.  "Kiss me,"
she said softly but urgently.

   Hendrika told him as he was kissing Ilse, "You are the first boy to kiss
her."

   While he kissed Ilse, he reached over and grabbed a handful of tiny
breasts.  Hendrika had grown over the winter months.  Her breasts were
still small, only the size of a walnut.  They were very firm.  The areola
had gotten darker pink.  He fondled it with one hand while he held the
other girl's head in his other hand.  Both were trying to make sure they
had a hand on his hard cock.

   He kissed her lips and frenched her tongue.  Then moved around to her
ears.  He didn't whisper in them, but he did blow warm air into them.  He
kissed and licked them, taking time to nibble the earlobes.  He moved down
to her neck and used that as a highway to the other side of her head to
give that ear its equal share of kisses.  In the meantime, he reached down
to play with her breasts.  He found he had competition.  Hendrika had
camped out on one of her tits and was licking and sucking on the nipple
that was rising up.  He could only fondle and toy with her other one.

   He figured he might as well join her.  He moved down and took the unused
boob for himself.  He did his own style of oral play with it.  He was
enjoying himself.  Ilse must have been enjoying it.  She was cooing and
saying things in Dutch, as she wiggled about a bit.  Stan pushed Hendrika's
head down.  She looked at Stan, then up at Ilse.  She got the idea and
moved down the girl's body.  Once Ilse realized what Hendrika was doing,
she spread her legs.

   Stan now had both of her boobs to himself.  He switched over to do his
oral ministrations to her other areola, while the one he just left was
taken over by his hands.  He did keep an eye out to watch Hendrika as she
moved down between Ilse's spread legs.  She began to lick the bare lips. 
Lips that were bare because the girls had planned this thing out.  They
knew that Stan liked hairless girls, or at least the lips.  He watched for
a while, having his own work to do.  But for him, seeing it only made him
want to join in.

   He kissed his way down her belly and was soon forcing out Hendrika's
head with his own.  She yielded to him.  She was just moved off somewhere
else.  Stan pulled Ilse down a bit in the bed, and now he was between her
legs the same way Hendrika was shortly before.  She had moved and now was
squatting over Ilse's face.  She had reached up and had her arms around
Hendrika's legs and hips, holding her in place while she was licking her
best friend's pussy.  While Stan was doing the same to her.

   Stan had a different style and pace than what Ilse was used to from
Hendrika.  It was very enjoyable.  He was licking those lips while also
dragging his tongue through her slit.  He went from the bottom of her
pussy, opening up to the very top, and that included her clit.  He did that
several times, before he was going deeper into those lips.  He took his
thumbs and spread the outer and inner lips.  He could now look right into
the core of her girlhood.  It looked like it was wide open.  He could see
the pink walls glistening with the moisture inside it.  He was able to get
his tongue up farther than he had ever done before with a girl.  He wiggled
it around in there.  Sending thrills up her nervous system to her brain. 
But it didn't stop when it got to her head.  It made the synapse jump out
of her head and right into Hendrika's pussy.  Ilse was giving to her friend
what she was getting.  They both were enjoying it.

   Finally, Ilse said "Alsjeblieft," Stan didn't know the word, but he got
the tone.

   Hendrika knew what she said.  She said please.  She told Stan, "Put it
in her." She got off Ilse's head and Stan stretched out over her.  Hendrika
moved down to grab Stan's tool and guide it into the shed.  Stan parked it
in there, but only for a brief second.  He commenced to doing his
horizontal tap dance.  She wasn't too bad.  She was wet enough and he could
move pretty easily in her.  He might have liked her a little tighter, but
she wasn't bad.  He could get into this, and he did.  His first strokes
were to plumb her depths.  He wanted to see how deeply he could get into
her.  She was able to take all of him in.  He could just barely feel the
end of her pussy hole when he was all the way in.  He went to screwing the
girl.  He was moving this way and that.  He was doing his corkscrew thing.
He had his little rabbit hunches and the long hard and deep strokes.  He
was switching off.  She was amazed at what he was doing in her.  But what
he was doing was hitting all the right buzzers and bells.  She was lighting
up like a pinball machine.  He was scoring more.  The digits in the counter
in her head were a blur as the numbers went round.  Then it all collapsed
as though her brain had had enough.  It could only register TILT!

   Her whole scoreboard went blank as she passed out.  Hendrika was so
worried about her she ran naked from her room to the bathroom.  She
returned with a damp cloth to put on her head.

   In a couple of minutes, Ilse was back.  She was smiling with a beam that
could have lit up Amsterdam.  She looked first at her friend, whose face
was hovering over her, with a worried look, then over to Stan, and said,
"That was so awesome."

   Stan was glad she was back, too.  But his dick hadn't finished the job,
and it was now deflating.  Hendrika took it in her hand and asked, "Can you
get hard again?  I want to have it too?" she said stroking it trying to
coax it back to life.  It worked, he was hard quickly.  She lay back,
prepared to get it, but Stan preferred some foreplay first.

   She had grown since he was with her last summer.  He wanted to play with
those budding boobies.  But first he planted a kiss on her lips that was
hotter than a branding iron.  It didn't sear them closed.  She was able to
get her tongue out, and jammed it in his mouth.  If she got it any further
down his throat, she would gag him.  This girl was ready, he thought.  The
time they spent kissing was limited.  They were both anxious for him to get
to her little titties.  He was able to grab one.  It was less than a
handful.  It felt nice to him.  He played with her areolas and nipples with
one hand while his mouth worked on the other one.  She was loving it.  She
enjoyed when Ilse did it too, but somehow, it was better when a boy was
doing it.  He spent some time switching off her boobs first one then the
other.

   It was time he knew to head down to her barely haired little pussy. 
There was the hair there, but he noted that there was none on the lips. 
But there were signs that there had been some there before.  He didn't mind
if there was hair there as long as he wasn't going to be getting any in his
mouth.  He went to planting kisses on those bare lips.  He dropped a bomb
of kisses on them, and that exploded in delight.  But before the debris
could be cleared from the devastated area, his tongue was doing the mopping
up.

   By now there was more to mop up, because he blew open her main and it
was flowing.  He was sucking it all up like a Hoover.  He was getting his
tongue up inside her.  They were both loving that.  Eventually, he
substituted his finger for his tongue as it had moved up to her clit.  He
caught some movement out of the corner of his eye.  He looked up.  Ilse had
her hands toying with Hendrika's itty bitty titties while they were
employed in a hot make-out session.  Hendrika had one hand holding Stan's
head in her crotch, while her other was fondling one of Ilse's boobs.

   He could feel that she was going to pop soon.  He figured she could cum
more if he was in her when she did.  She might not have been thinking just
the same, but she was wanting him.  She took her hand off his head and
grabbed him under his arm as if to lead him up.  He got out of his crotch
and moved up over her.  That forced Ilse out of the way.  She yielded to
Stan.  He moved on top of Hendrika, she reached down and guided his missile
into her silo.

   He ignited his rocket in her.  He bounced around in her, hitting all
those special places she needed to have touched.  She seemed to know what
Stan wanted.  She was able to squeeze the muscles of her pussy.  That was
something her mother had taught her over the winter.  It was paying off. 
Stan loved it when the pussy was tight and she was giving him what he
liked. But he wasn't being shut out, as she had her river flowing and he
was able to navigate his way through her dark passage.  This time, she was
the one moving this way and that.  She was making sure he was scratching
all those places that itched.  It worked out for Stan, too.  She could
twist all around all she wanted.  He concentrated on speed and depth.  They
worked it out pretty good together without planning it.  But she must have
planned some things out.  She uttered something in Dutch Stan didn't
understand.  But Ilse most have, she rushed to Hendrika's side and put her
hand tightly over her mouth.

   It didn't take long.  Stan was jabbing her as deeply as he could with
his dick.  He was shooting his little swimmers into her right through her
cervix.  He was poking the head of his cock right through that hole.  It
was that which set her off.  She let out one of her screeches.  By
planning, it was muffled by the hand over her mouth.  But that didn't mean
her other things were under control.  Her pussy muscles were vibrating,
contracting and squeezing him.  It seemed she was trying to force that cum
out of his tube.  She was doing a good job of it as he shot it up into her
womb.

   They started together, and their climaxes ended at the same time.  He
was played out, for the moment at least.  He got up off her and lay beside
her.  Ilse wanted more from him.  She might not be able to get it at this
moment.  He was very deflated.

   Hendrika knew what her friend wanted.  She urged her best friend to suck
his cock.  Ilse began to lick around his soft item.  It wasn't long before
Hendrika was coaching her on what to do as they conversed in Dutch.  She
urged Hendrika to join in.  They were both working him.  With that kind of
attention, he couldn't stay soft long.  When one was working the shaft
licking it, or sucking on it with licks, one went down to cradle his balls
and lick them and plopped them in her mouth and gently sucked on them.  At
the same time, the other would be sucking on the head of his dick.  They
seemed to have practiced this before.  They would tickle the pee slit with
wiggling their tongues.  Their mouths were wet with saliva.  It was running
out of their mouths.  Stan was producing pre-cum of his own.  It was lost
in their dripping drool.

   He was getting close, and the girls began to argue about who was going
to get his spunk.  The only fair way to do it was: he had their heads right
next to each other he and would dip his cock into a mouth for a couple of
strokes/sucks before moving over to the next open mouth, waiting for him
like a baby bird waits for the parent to stuff it full.  He helped out by
stroking his tool.

   Ilse was the one who had it in her mouth when the first spurt erupted
from the end of his hot prick.  He pinched it off and moved over quickly to
shove it into Hendrika's mouth she was able to get his next shot.  They
traded off like that, but he only had five shots in him, so Ilse was the
one who got one more than Hendrika.  But Hendrika licked up what little he
dribbled out, and what was on his hand.  She wasn't complaining, she was
happy to get anything.

   Hendrika, in an effort to get more, planted a kiss on her friend's lips,
then sent her tongue inside, trying to swab out what she could find in
there.  There wasn't much, Ilse had gotten it all down.  She liked the
taste, but then she liked salty things.  He lay back and watched them
making out.  He liked the sight, but he was too played out to get hard
again.  Besides, what more did he need?  He had been in both of them and he
came twice.  They each got a turn, and they even got to share some of his
load in their mouths.

   When Hendrika had finished searching for more cum in Ilse's mouth, Stan
asked, "You girls been doing that long?"

   "Yes, since I was near to eleven," said the girl who would turn thirteen
this summer.

   "How old was Ilse?" he asked.

   "She is four months younger than me."

   "This was your first time with a boy or a man, Ilse?"

   "Yes, and you were very good.  I must tell my parents that you are so
good.  Maybe you can visit with me again."

   "No, he is mine.  I had him first.  I only share with you.  You can not
have him."

   "I'm sorry to break it to you two, but neither of you can own me.  I do
this because you want to do this, and I want to do this.  But, you can't
say that I belong to either of you, that one can control me exclusive of
the other." He glanced at the clock.  He realized that he had been up there
more than an hour and a half.  "I must get back down stairs, my CO must be
wondering where I am.  It was nice to meet you Ilse, and Hendrika, it's
always a pleasure." Thinking a minute, do you have a bathroom up here?  I
think I should get a quick shower before I go down there."

   "Yes, come with me," Hendrika said, leading him out the room and down
the hall.  He had picked up his clothes, and was very careful with his side
arm.  Hendrika was naked, Ilse followed along also naked.

   She led him into the bathroom and turned on the shower for him.  Once he
got in, the other two followed.  It was crowded in there.  They were
wanting more attention from Stan.  They were rubbing their bodies against
his while he tried to wash the sex off of himself.

   They finished, or at least Stan did, and got out.  He dried off while
the other two were playing around in the shower with each other.  It would
be nice to watch, Stan thought, but he didn't have the time.  He dressed
and put on his sidearm and went to find his CO.

   The colonel was right where he said he would be.  He was engrossed in a
conversation with Lars De Groot.  It seems he was some sort of cyber
expert. When Stan came in he stood at attention and saluted.  The colonel
didn't return it.

   "Sit Stan, my boy, how did things go upstairs?"

   "They went very well, sir."

   "Good, good, glad to hear it.  You did take your time.  But then I
expect you did a thorough job," the colonel said.

   "I take it you made my daughter happy?" Mr De Groot asked.

   That was weird, Stan thought, "Yes sir, I believe she was very happy."

   "Good, then perhaps you will be able to visit with us sometime?"

   Gwen approached Stan.  "Hendrika had told us so much about you.  Ilse
couldn't wait to try you out.  I am glad if you gave her a good time."

   The weird just gets weirder, Stan thought.  Gwen said in a low voice,
"Ilse, like Hendrika, has implants so they don't ovulate, so you don't have
to worry about anything."

   "Thanks, that's good to know," Stan said.  He could barely restrain
himself from rolling his eyes.

   By now, most of the other guests had left.  Only a few couples along
with the De Groots were still present.  "Well, Stan, I think it is time we
make our exit," the colonel said.

   They stood after shaking hands with the De Groots and his hosts.  The
colonel and Stan made their way to their car.  Stan opened the car door for
the officer and closed it behind him before getting in and starting it up.
They headed back to the offices and small block of apartments that went as
their base.

   "Stan, you seem to have quite the way with the young girls.  You are a
handsome young man, and you have the poise and charm to go with it.  I hope
you have the techniques to make them happy."

   "Sir?" Stan said.  Not quite understanding what the colonel meant.

   "You know, the ability to satisfy the girls, you have all the right
moves?  I will say it takes a special man to handle the young girls the way
you do.  You are patient and caring with them.  From what I got from
Johannes and Beatrix, you were quite the stud, with little Hendrika. 
Congratulations son, not many men can do that, and have their parents
begging for your services for their daughters.  I will tell you, as long as
they are of legal age, and those two today are, then the army will not give
you any problems."

   "That's good to know, sir."

   "That is enough on that subject now," the colonel said.

   Stan was glad he might be a stud for those girls, but he didn't like
talking about it, especially with his boss or the girl's parents.  He just
wanted to going back to doing his usual duty.

   Life carried on the way it normally did.  He was getting near the end of
summer.  The colonel called him in to talk to him.  "Stan, my boy, you've
got some mail here.  It was transferred from your old post in Bavaria, and
there is another matter I need to talk to you about, also something I need
to let you know."

   "What is that, sir?"

   "Stan, I am going to be retiring very soon.  You, my boy, have a
decision to make, as your enlistment is ending soon.  This last one was for
two years and your two years are about over, plus you are due some leave.
So we have to figure out what to do with you.  Now you have this letter. 
It looks to be a little old.  Things for you aren't getting up here real
fast.  This one looks kind of important.  So you read it and think about
your enlistment, and we'll talk again.  That is all for now."

   "Yes sir, thank you sir," Stan said as the colonel handed him a letter.
He saluted, turned and left.

   He went back to his quarters and looked at the envelope.  The return
address was in Reno, Nevada.  He didn't know anyone there, or have any
business there, not at least as far as he knew.

   It said it was from "Hungadunga, Hungadunga, McCormick & Horwitz, a law
corporation." This was strange, lawyers from Nevada were writing to him. 
He opened the envelope and took out the letter inside.  It read:

   To Mr.  Stanley Costello

   Dear Sir:

   We are sorry to inform you of the death of our client, Mr.  Jerry
Martin. I, Lawrence Hungadunga,

   am the executor of his will.  I am informing you that you have been
named as sole heir to all his

   real, business, and personal properties.  All are free and clear of
liens, debits or encumbrances.



   You must excuse our tardiness of informing you of this.  There has been
some delay in finding your

   location, as Mr.  Martin couldn't furnish us with your exact
whereabouts. In the interim there has been

   a business manager who has been overseeing the businesses with our
supervision.  The man who is doing

   this was a trusted employee of Mr.  Martin.

   Should you wish to sell those properties, we can do that for you. 
Should you wish to claim them,

   and have another run them for you, we can inform the current manager of
your decision, and I am

   sure he will cooperate turning things over to your manager.  If you wish
to run them yourself, and I think

   that was Jerry's intention in leaving it to you, he will be of great
help to you.  We will be more than

   happy to help you in any option, or in any way we can.

   Please contact our office and let us know of your intentions.

   Sincerely,

   Larry Hungadunga

   "What the heck, I own properties in Nevada?" Stan thought to himself. 
He looked at the date on the letter.  It was dated three months before. 
Who the heck is Jerry Martin?  He never heard of the guy before.  Was this
some kind of a ruse of the gangsters trying to flush him and kill him? 
They couldn't find him, so was this a trick for him to reveal himself?

   He went to his colonel, "Sir, that letter you gave me says it is from a
lawyer in Reno, Nevada.  It says I'm the heir of some properties there. 
They belonged to a Jerry Martin.  I don't know anybody by that name.  Why
would he be naming me in a will?  Can you check on this for me, sir?"

   "Why certainly, my son.  Leave me the letter and I will see what I can
find out for you."

   "Thank you, sir." Stan handed him the letter, saluted and left.

   Nothing was heard of the matter, until three days later, the colonel
called him into his office.  "Stan, I checked with Washington.  This is a
legit letter.  The company does exist.  They did have a client named Jerry
Martin, and he did leave the properties to you.  This is a real offer."

   "What should I do, sir?"

   "You'll have to make a decision.  I don't know where or in what
situation the army will post you, if you reenlist.  I can only say you
won't be posted with me, as my retirement is in effect in a couple of
weeks. You can reenlist and see where the army sends you, or you can be
discharged.  Of course, it will be an honorable one, and you can then claim
what is left you in that will.  Or you can refuse it and make your own way.
You have several paths open to you."

   "If I choose to take the properties, how will I know that the people
trying to get me won't find me there, sir?"

   "I checked on that too.  There has been an agency that was in charge of
this Jerry Martin, person, and they have been watching over you as well. 
If you choose to leave the service, you are to contact one of their agents.
If you stay in the army, the army will contact them and inform them where
you are stationed, and they will coordinate security for you."

   "Do you know who this person, or agency, is, sir?"

   "I don't.  I was given my instructions.  If you choose to leave, I was
instructed that I am to give you a name and a number to call.  Beyond that,
I don't know too much, nor am I authorized to say more at this time.  So
take a little time and think about it, what you want to do."

   "Thank you sir, I will, sir." Stan saluted and left.

   He went back to his quarters and thought.  He didn't know where he would
end up and what he might be doing, as apposed to owning some business in
Nevada.  What kind of business he didn't even know?  Maybe this would be
his chance to set up a garage of his own.  That had been what he had been
saving his money for.  There was a tidy little sum.  If he needed more, he
could sell what business he inherited, plus the government would loan him
money through the GI bill.  This might be his way out and to get going on
his own.  Yeah, that's the ticket.  He would take the inheritance, and
leave the army behind.  He didn't need it any more.  Vietnam was over and
he managed to avoid going there.  It's time to start his life.  He sure
wouldn't get a plum assignment like this again, and with a great CO like
this.

   The next day the colonel had some meetings with people in Dutch
intelligence.  Stan was to go along as driver, but when they started
talking about classified information, he wasn't allowed in the room.  He
didn't have the clearance.

   As they drove back, Stan made casual conversation.  "How did your
meeting go, sir?"

   "It went very well.  I am turning over a lot of my work to the NATO
intelligence people and there will be a new person here to relieve me soon.
Have you thought any more about what you want to do?"

   "Yes sir, I have.  I will take those properties that were left to me."

   "Good boy.  I'll start your paperwork.  But you do still have some leave
left.  Would you want to take that as a terminal leave?"

   "What's that, sir?"

   "You are granted leave, the leave that you are due.  But, when your
leave is over, you don't report back to your duty station.  You are at that
point considered a civilian.  You will be able to do as you wish.  But I
warn you, should something come up, you can be called back to duty for at
least that time.  There is another option on your leave, you can sell it
back to the army.  You will lose the leave, but you will be paid for the
time instead of having it off.  Just that you wouldn't be out any sooner."

   "What about traveling home?  Could I do that, sir?"

   "Yes, if there is space available, you can fly on military transport. 
If there isn't, you can fly in uniform, airlines would give you a
discount."

   "That sounds better, sir."

   "Alright, I'll start the paperwork right away.  Maybe you can even leave
with me."

   The next day, Stan was called into the colonel's office.  "I have the
papers for you to sign.  As of tomorrow, you will be on leave.  You may
stay in your quarters but you won't have any assigned duties for the next
while.  Now if you wish to go stateside, you are welcome to travel with me.
I will be leaving in a couple of days, before your leave is up, so if you
want, I can see if there is space available for you on my transport."

   "That is very nice.  I would like that very much, sir."

   Stan's replacement, Corporal Reilly, arrived and took over for him. 
Stan was relieved of all duties.  He could go where he wanted.  He was
mindful of going into cities or being seen in places.  He needed to be
careful.  He went into the town and bought some nice civilian clothes.  He
got some of the latest European styling and some casual things.  All he had
were boots.  So he got some Dutch sneakers.  He visited some museums in
Amsterdam, trying to blend in with the other tourists.  The rest of his
time he spent in his quarters.  One thing he didn't want to do was visit
the Van der Meers or the De Groots girls.  He didn't want to get tangled up
with them.  They were nice, and he enjoyed the sex with the girls.  But he
wanted a clean break, like he did with the girls from Bavaria.

   He did ask the colonel about going home to New York before going on to
Nevada.  The colonel made a couple of calls and an hour later, he informed
Stan it would be a very bad idea to go back there.  He shouldn't be seen at
all on the east coast.  Someone might see him and recognize him.  It was
best he travel on to the west coast right away.  He was told that when he
arrived in Reno, he was to call a man, and Stan was given a name and
number. It wasn't said who he was or why Stan should call him.

   The day before they were to leave, Colonel Sanders's replacement,
Colonel Cathcart, arrived.  They spent the day together as the new CO was
brought up to speed on the work of their unit.  The unit was
counter-intelligence.  They spent most of the day going over Soviet codes,
and intelligence gained about the Warsaw Pact nations, trying to understand
their plans and how to counter them.  The new colonel was supposed to be an
expert in those things, just as Colonel Sanders was an expert in cyber
systems.

   Corporal Reilly stayed behind as the new driver and guard for Colonel
Cathcart.  Taking an unmarked car, Lieutenant Minderbinder was detailed to
drive Colonel Sanders and a uniformed Stan to the Air Force base in
Germany. From there, they would fly to an Air Force base in Delaware.  The
colonel was nice and claimed Stan's guitars as his own, while Stan lugged
his amp and records.  If he had tried to carry them, all the Air Force
would have refused to carry so much baggage for him.  Because it was a
colonel, they marked the guitar cases as fragile, Stan had them do the same
with the amp and his Beatles records.

   The colonel had it all worked out.  They would take a shuttle bus up to
the airport in Philadelphia.  From there, they would catch flights off to
where they were headed.  They got off the shuttle and Stan got a cart to
push all his things with him.  They tossed their duty bags on it too.  They
went to the airline counter.  Stan got his ticket and checked his luggage.
It cost him a lot more to have all that extra baggage, but since he was
traveling in uniform, he got a discount, not enough to pay for the extra
charges, but to him it was worth it.  The guitars and amp were all he had
from his father, and the records from his mother.  They were important to
him.

   They arrived in time enough that they didn't have a long wait.  The
colonel was headed for Louisville, in Kentucky, to his old Kentucky home.
Stan had a long road ahead of him getting to Reno.  He had a big layover in
Denver.

   They made their way down the concourse.  They passed the colonel's gate
first.  They stopped, and he shook Stan's hand.  As he did, he put his
other hand over Stan's, looking him in the eye.  He said, "Now you take
care of yourself, son.  You've been a good soldier and companion for me.  I
hope I have done right by you.  Now you take your instruments, and that
tool of yours, and go make some young girls happy.  God Bless you my boy."

   Stan took his hand back, came to full attention, and saluted him.  The
colonel, stood at attention, and in return, gave the best salute he had
ever given Stan.  He said with a big, wide grin.  "Go on, my boy, your life
is calling you."

   Stan said, "Yes sir, thank you sir." then he took a step back turned as
sharply as he would have done on a parade ground, and walked away.

   He continued down the concourse to his gate.  He heard them call for
boarding for the colonel's flight.  He went to a large window, waited and
watched.  Then he saw the plane pull back from the gate and head down to
the tarmac.  He couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw the colonel wave
through a window.  Just in case Stan waved goodbye, maybe the colonel saw
him.

   Not too long afterward, Stan boarded his own flight.  First, he would go
to Denver, and with a long layover, he would then fly to Reno.  He was
bored sitting in the concourse.  Nothing much to do but people watch. 
There were a couple of flights what would leave out of his gate before his
flight would be called.

   Finally, his flight was called.  They were going in a small turbo prop
plane.  There were only twelve other people on the flight.  He sat near the
back.  He could see them loading the cargo and the people's luggage.  He
watched with great interest.  First, he saw his guitars, then the amp and
lastly the records, then almost as an after thought he saw them load his
duty bag.  He could relax.  He knew they would get into Reno late.  The
colonel, when he helped Stan set the flights up, booked him a room for the
night in a hotel.  The cab took him to the hotel.  He needed a cart to get
all his things up to his room.  He paid for two nights.  He didn't know how
long things would take him.

   He called in the morning to see Mr.  Larry Hungadunga.  An appointment
was made for him just after lunch.  So now Stan had more time to kill
before he saw this lawyer.  Stan ate at the hotel.  They had a dining room
that was so big it could serve meals when a convention was in town.  For
its size, there weren't too many people eating when he did.  Stan decided
the food was good.  Maybe it just tasted better after eating army cooking
for the last ten years.  Good as this was, he'd love to have a home cooked
meal from his mom.  He didn't need to wear his uniform.  He only had one
more day of leave after today, then he would be fully out of the army.

   He took a cab to the lawyer's office.  He found he could have walked. 
It was very close to the hotel.  Did the colonel set it up for him like
that?  Another reason to be thankful for him.  He sat in the lobby waiting.
The magazine he was looking at couldn't hold his attention.

   He looked up.  There on the walls were a series of portraits.  The first
was an older man with balding gray hair.  He had a comb over to try to hide
the balding areas.  It was labeled Charles Hungadunga.

   Next to it was another portrait, this time of a younger man.  He looked
a lot like the old man, but he had reddish hair that looked to have been
permed.  It was quite curly.  He still had the same high forehead, and it
looked he was going bald too.  This one was labeled Lawrence Hungadunga. 
That would be the one Stan was waiting to see.

   The next in the line of portraits was a big man with a big head.  A big
bald head.  He must have shaved his head as there was no hair that could be
seen on it.  His photo was labeled Jerome McCormick.

   The final portrait, and Stan guessed the last partner, was a man with a
very prominent nose, and deep set dark eyes.  At least this guy had hair,
but what hair!  It was black, and it looked like he was going for some kind
of B eatles' style, but he didn't make it.  While it was longer than the
others.  It looked like someone had put a big bowl over his head and cut
off all the hair that was below it.  The name under the portrait was Moses
Horwitz.

   Stan went back to leafing through the magazine.  There was a buzz, and
the secretary picked up the phone.  She said, "Mr.  Costello, Mr. 
Hungadunga will see you now." Stan stood up and walked to the door.  It
opened on its own.  Inside stood the man in the photo only with a little
less hair on the top of his head.  It made the perm on the sides stand out
that much more.

   He held out his hand, and Stan took it and shook it.  As he did, the man
said, "Hello, I'm Larry Hungadunga.  Thank you for coming in.  We were
about to give up on you.  We hadn't heard from you for the longest time
after Jerry had died.  I am glad that our letter finally reached you."

   "Well, the mail was a little slow getting to me." Stan said as a sort of
an apology.  "You say a bunch of property was left to me?"

   "Yes, three businesses and a house.  There were some bank accounts too.
They are all in the small city of Eldon."

   "Where is that?"

   "There is a federal highway that runs from here east to Salt Lake City,
in Utah.  Eldon is in Nevada, a little way this side of the Utah line."

   "So what are these businesses?"

   "You, once you sign the papers, are the owner of the Good Night Motel
and the Good Day Cafe, also there is Jerry's Gas.  As you can guess, it is
a motel, restaurant, and a gas station.  Plus, there is a two-bedroom house
in the city."

   "All this was left to me?"

   "Yes, if you are Stanley Costello, son of Carla Costello, late of
Manhattan, New York City."

   "Well, that would be me.  But who is this Jerry Martin you say?"

   "Jerry Martin?  You don't know him?  He seems to know you.  He made a
point that all this was to go to you as his sole heir."

   "Do you know this guy?  I mean, you dealt with him before, you know
him?"

   "Yes, I've met him several times.  We handled the business
incorporations for him.  I've met him several times.  I drew up the will
for him.  You see, there are few to no lawyers in Eldon.  People end up
coming here for legal services." He took a long look at Stan.  "You know,
he was a very handsome man, not unlike yourself."

   "Do you know how he is related to me or why he left this to me?  I
really don't know anybody named Jerry Martin.  But, hey if it's left to me,
I'll take it."

   "I don't think I can tell how or why it is that he left this to you. 
Jerry was an older man.  He was in his 70s when he passed.  He only lived
in Eldon for the last ten years or so.  I don't know much about his life
before that time.  He never talked about it.  There is a man who might know
more.  In fact, I was told that should you come here, I am to give you his
number and you are to call him.  Now, if you want the properties, I'll get
you the papers to sign, and they are all yours."

   "Yeah, let's do it," he said.  Stan signed the papers and was given
copies.

   "How will you get to Eldon?" Larry asked.

   "I don't know.  How does one get there?" Stan asked.

   "There are two ways.  One is to drive.  It is about 300 miles to drive.
It is sometimes called the loneliest drive in America.  There is little to
see and a few towns between here and Eldon.  It is at least a five hour
drive.  Do you have a car?"

   "No, I flew in here yesterday.

   "The other way to get there is to fly."

   "Well, flying makes things easy," Stan said.

   "That is true, but there are only two flights in and out of Eldon.  They
fly on Mondays and Fridays.  So if you fly, you have a couple of days
before the next flight."

   "When you get there, you are to go to the Good Night Motel.  It is at
57365 Federal Highway in Eldon.  You want to see the man who has been
managing the businesses.  His name is Ben Cartwright.  He will fill you in
on everything.  Oh, and before I forget, you are to call this man.  I'll
write down his name and number for you.  Is there anything more I can do
for you?"

   "I can't think of anything, right at the moment," Stan said.

   "Nice to have met you.  If there are any legal services that we can do
for you, just let us know, any friend of Jerry's is a friend of ours." He
shook Stan's hand again, and Stan left.  He walked back to his hotel.  When
he got to his room, he took out the card and looked at it.  All it said was
James Wilson and a phone number.  That was the same name and number that
the colonel gave him.

   Stan dialed it.  It rang a couple of times, a female voice answered by
reciting the phone number.  Stan asked, "James Wilson please."

   "Whom may I say is calling?" The voice asked.

   "I'm Stan Costello.  I was told to call Mr.  Wilson."

   "One moment please."

   After a couple of seconds a voice on the other end of the phone said,
"Stanley Costello, oh good, I'm glad to hear from you.  I am James Wilson.
Are you here in Reno now?"

   "Yes, I was here to claim the property of Jerry Martin.  Everybody keeps
telling me I needed to call you."

   "Yes, in deed you do.  I can come right over there."

   "I can come to your office if it is here in Reno.  Just let me know
where and I can get a cab."

   "No, no you stay right where you are.  I will come to you.  Does anybody
know where you are?"

   What a strange question, Stan thought.  "You mean other than the people
at the hotel?"

   "Did you tell anyone where you are staying?"

   "Only the cab last night.  Oh, and my colonel, he made the reservation
for me."

   "That would be Colonel Sanders?"

   "Yes, how would you know that?"

   "I have been in contact with him since you were transferred to Aalten"

   "How do you know about that?  Nobody knew I was there."

   "We arranged your transfer there after the incursions at your base in
Bavaria.  It was to keep you safe after your mother's death."

   "Who are you, and how do you know these things?"

   "I'll explain everything when I see you.  What room are you in?"

   "How do you even know where I am?"

   "You are in the Silver Stake Hotel.  What room?"

   "How do you know what hotel I'm in?" Stan was very suspicious now.

   "I had your colonel get you a room there.  It is close to your lawyer's
office.  I'll explain everything when I get there."

   "I'm in six-fourteen," Stan said, wondering if he should have told him.

   Stay there and don't go near any windows.  Keep the door locked.  I'll
see you in a few."

   About twenty minutes later, there was a knock on Stan's door.  He looked
through the peephole.  I was a white man in his mid 40s, about average
height, slimmer build with dark hair a slightly longer than military hair
cut.  He was wearing a business suit.  He held up what looked like some
kind of ID with a badge.  "Stan, it's me, James Wilson," he said.

   Stan stepped back and opened the door.  The man came in quickly and
closed then locked the door behind him.  "Sorry for all the cloak and
dagger, but there may still be a price on your head."

   "Why?  Why are people trying to kill me?  What did I ever do?"

   "Stan, it is not what you've done but rather what somebody else did. 
You are here to receive the inheritance from Jerry Martin?"

   "Yeah, which brings up the question.  Who is he?  Do you know anything
about him?"

   "He is the reason there is a price on your head.  Or at least there was.
It might not be a valid offer any more."

   "What are you talking about?  You know so much and you're not telling me
anything."

   "I'll let you know how things are.  First, I am the special agent
assigned to Jerry Martin's case.  I work with the Witness Protection
Program.  Jerry Martin, or his former name, Geraldo Marchetti, was a member
of the crime family of Vincenzo Gambini.  He was their bookkeeper.  He knew
where the money was and where the bodies were buried, and who did the
killings.  He turned state's evidence against the crime family.  His
testimony put a lot of people in prison.  It also recovered most of the
money from the Kings Armored Car robbery.  That ended up being more than
ten million dollars they stole on that one job."

   "He was very helpful in many cases.  He outlined how the mafia shipped
money out of the country into Swiss numbered accounts.  On the Kings job
they kept about a million dollars and split it up between them.  The rest
went into the Swiss accounts.  But some of them spent what they had and
wanted to get the money out of the Swiss accounts.  That's when those
involved in the robbery started turning up dead.  Gambini had them whacked.
Geraldo knew who did the whacking and where the bodies ended up.  He knew
of other crimes they had committed.  Before he turned up dead too, he
turned state's evidence.  For his testimony, Gambini swore vengeance on him
and his family.  The old man died in prison.  His son, Michael, took over
the family and was carrying out that vengeance."

   "Geraldo helped himself a bit, in that he got to keep ten percent of the
money recovered by the insurance company, for telling where to find it.  He
has been in the program and that has kept him safe."

   "I do remember reading about that story and him swearing vengeance in
the paper, but what's that got to do with me?" Stan asked.

   "Geraldo Marchetti was your mother's uncle.  Michael Gambini tried to
have all of Geraldo's, or Jerry's, relatives killed.  Geraldo was not known
to have been married, at least there isn't a record of it and he had no
known children.  So they went after his brothers and sisters, at least
those who lived in the New York City, New Jersey area.  It seems he didn't
touch their kids.  But there somehow seemed to be a special reason he went
after your mother.  We don't know the reason, but he wanted her dead. 
After she was killed, not only did they discover you, from your letters,
they were able to trace where you were.  After her, you became their next
important target."

   "So they could still be coming after me?"

   "We aren't sure.  Over the last few months, there has been a gang war
going on in New York.  A guy by the name of Johnny Rossi has been moving in
on the turf of the Gambini family.  Michael was killed by one of his
lieutenants, who switched sides.  There are still a few lieutenants out
there who are loyal to Michael.  They may try to carry out his orders to
kill you, or maybe not.  They may be running to save their necks and
wouldn't bother with you.  They could turn and join the Rossi family.  If
they do, we don't know how Rossi would feel about you.  You may mean
nothing to him.  That is what we feel is the most likely scenario.  In the
meantime we will be seeking to bring down the Rossi organization.  But, for
you, it is best if you keep a low profile.  We don't think you will need to
be in the Witness Protection Program.  I don't think you would qualify,
anyway.  But as Jerry's case manager, I will keep an eye on those things
and let you know if the danger level to you should rise.  You are welcome
to call me if a situation comes up.  But we'll keep our distance."

   "Thanks, I appreciate that."

   "So, you think you're going to take over Jerry's properties and run
them?"

   "Yeah, I think I will at least see them, and maybe give them a whirl."

   "How you going to get there?"

   "They say I can fly or drive, but the next flight isn't for a couple of
days.  I would rather get out there ASAP.  But, I don't have a car.  So
I'll have to wait or I buy a car."

   "Flying makes you more vulnerable.  It would be better to drive.  People
won't know who you are or where you are if you drive.  But your needing to
buy a car, that can put you at risk too.  But I do have a solution for you.
The agency has used cars for sale, and they do make loans to people in the
program.  I think I can get you a loan and you can get a car today.  How's
that sound?"

   "Great, what do we need to do?"

   "Come with me and we'll get you all fixed up."

   He took Stan back to his office.  Coming in, he asked, "Where's Oscar?"

   A voice was heard, "Over here, James."

   They went to where the voice was heard.  "Oscar, this is Stan.  He is
the heir to Jerry Martin.  He's a relative of his.  He is going to claim
the property.  He needs a way to get out to Eldon.  I told him we sometimes
have used cars we can sell him.  Do you have anything?"

   "Right now I only have two vehicles, one is a ten passenger GMC, and the
other is a four door Plymouth."

   "Can we look at them?" James asked.

   "Yeah, sure, come on," Oscar said.

   They went down into the garage basement of the building.  For Stan, the
GMC was out.  He wasn't going to need such a big vehicle.  So the Plymouth
it was.  Stan looked under the hood, the tires, the interior, and the
odometer.  There was a maintenance log showing it was well cared for.  "How
does it run?" Stan asked.

   "Here, fire it up," Oscar said, as he tossed him the keys.

   Stan started the car.  It started right away without any problems.  He
put in gear and drove around the basement a little.  He parked it and shut
it down.  "I think it'll work," he said.

   "OK, let's go up and I'll get this started for you," Oscar told him.

   Once back in the office, "He asked, how do you want to pay for this?"

   "First, how much do you want for it?" Stan asked.

   Oscar said, "Well, new, the DOJ paid $10,000, but it is used.  It's a
`78, so three years old.  Let me look at the book." He looked in the Kelley
Blue Book and then at a sheet in his office.  "I can give it away for
$4,000.  Can you live with that?"

   "I think so.  What do we do now?"

   "Do you have the money now?"

   "I have some.  I have traveler's checks.  But not that much.  I have to
get my money from my savings account transferred from my military account
to a bank here state side."

   "You're military?"

   "Yeah, sort of.  Tomorrow is my last day in the service.  After that,
I'm a civilian."

   "Well then, you can get a loan through the VA, with a low interest rate.
Let me work some numbers and we'll see what we can do."

   James steered Stan back to his office.  Stan asked,"How long have you
worked with Jerry or Geraldo?"

   "About ten years.  That is the time he has been here.  I think he was in
New York for a little while shortly after the trial.  But then we got him
out of there."

   "Did he have any contact with anybody back there?"

   "No, we discourage that, because it may create traces that someone can
follow to find a person in protection.  When you go into protection, the
old person disappears.  A new person takes their place.  They have a new
identification.  They are a new person."

   "So they don't know what happens to the people left behind?"

   "No, we try not to share any news, because it may create reasons to
contact those people.  We do, however, keep an eye on the situation.  We
were monitoring Geraldo's family for targets.  You were left, but, being on
an army base, you were hard to get.  They tried.  We were in contact with
the army and it was felt that if you were kept on base, you could be kept
safe.  But even with you there, there were attempts to get to you.  The
price on your head was enough to tempt several wannabe assassins. 
Eventually it was felt that if you were transferred, you would be safer. 
But to throw them off the scent your paperwork all said that you are still
on that base.  For now, your paperwork will still say that you are there."

   "So you guys were behind my restrictions to base and my transfer?"

   "Yes, that's right."

   Oscar popped his head in.  "Can you put down $500"

   "Yeah, I can do that," Stan said.

   "OK, I have it figured as a 36 month loan at $98.70 a month with an
interest rate of 1.5%.  You good with that?"

   "Yeah, I think I can live with that."

   Oscar had him sign papers for the loan on the car.

   Stan turned to James, "These properties turn a profit?"

   "From what I know, you won't be rolling in dough, but you'll do pretty
well.  I warn you that things may be seasonal.  In the winter there are the
skiers and summer the tourists.  But sometimes things can be leaner.  They
might be even leaner in the future.  Right now all the east west traffic
through Nevada travels that road through town.  They are finishing the
Interstate, that will take a lot of traffic away from the town."

   "OK, I still think things can work.  I'll have to get out there and see
the lay of the land.  I'll take the car.  Let me get you some traveler's
checks.  What about insurance?"

   "The Witness Protection will maintain the insurance until you can
re-register the car."

   "OK, good enough," Stan reached into a pocket and began to take out
checks, signing them until he reached the $500.  Oscar handed him the keys.

   James said, "It would be best if you start for there early in the
morning.  Most people wouldn't see you leave and won't know what you're
driving.  Oscar, you can leave the car in the parking lot for the hotel in
the morning?"

   "Yeah, I can do that," Oscar said.

   "So give him the keys and you pick up your belongings and meet him at
the car at say 5AM?"

   "Alright," Stan agreed.

   "Oscar will have the gas tank filled, and a map.  Not that you will need
it much.  Once you get out of Reno on that road, it is a straight shot
there.  Just I warn you, it isn't called the loneliest road in America for
nothing."

   "I think I will manage."

   "OK, then let me take you back to your hotel and you can get ready."

   James took him back, Stan ate a hardy meal and got to bed early if he
was going to be leaving so early.

   He got up and put on a black T-shirt that was emblazoned with "ARMY"
across it.  He covered it with an old uniform shirt with his stripes on it.
It was his last day in the army.  On his head he had his ubiquitous Yankees
hat.  He called down for a bell boy, but there wasn't anybody to help him.
He was able to get a cart.  He checked out and paid his bill.  They gave
him a discount for being military.  That was partly why he wore the shirt.
It was too early to eat at the hotel.  The dining room wasn't open yet.

   He pushed the cart out the front door.  He could see two shadowy figures
over by a car.  They saw him and waved to him.  As he got closer Stan could
see who it was.

   "You all set?" James asked.

   "I think so," Stan told him.  They walked over with Stan to the car and
helped him put the stuff in the trunk.

   "Guitars, and an amp, I take you it you play."

   "Yeah, I do and they were a gifts from my father, so I'm told.  You
don't know anything about my dad, do you?  I mean if they got to my mother,
wouldn't they have gotten to him too?"

   "We never had any information about a husband for her or a father for
you ever listed.  So we don't know anything about him, sorry.  Don't you
know?"

   "No, my mom never told me who he was."

   "If he hasn't turned up before now, I guess he won't be anytime soon. 
That alone should protect him.  Well, call me if you need me, and if I have
any new information I will contact you through the motel.  You just keep my
number, call if you think there is anything fishy."

   James shook his hand and as Stan turned towards the car, James gave him
a pat on the shoulder, "Take care of yourself, be careful wearing that hat,
and shirt" he said.

   Oscar said, "There is a map in there it will get you out of town and
onto the federal highway.  Once you are on it, you just go straight and
you'll be there in about six hours.  Good luck." He turned and took the
cart and headed back towards the hotel.

   Stan got in turning on the interior light he studied the map.  He got a
sense of how to go.  He turned over the engine and drove off into the
Nevada darkness.

   It took longer than he thought it would to get out of the city.  There
was almost no traffic, but it was a long road.  Finally he was out of the
city.  He passed through a few smaller cities, before it finally put him on
the road he was looking for.  Now it was just follow the road.  He was on
the road fighting the rising sun as he drove east.  After a few hours his
stomach was awake and asking to be filled.  He finally reached a city of
any size.  There was an open diner along the road.  He stopped in and
filled his belly, then he filled the car's tank.  No telling what the gas
mileage would be, and judging by the road he had been over this was not the
place to run out of gas.

   He had been driving awhile, before he started to see signs for Eldon. 
It was only a few miles ahead.  Stan was a little surprised when he came up
to a billboard advertising the Good Night Motel.  It said it was only a few
miles ahead.  That was good to know, there was something to bring the
people in.  He later saw other billboards for other motels.  So he has
competition.

   He reached the city limits, and it wasn't very long he could see the big
sign for the Good Night Motel.  The sign was lit, vacancy.  Before he came
up on it he passed a gas station.  He quickly looked, it said "Jerry's
Gas." Next to it was a big dirt lot.  Just the other side of the big lot
was the motel.  He drove by it slowly to get a good look at it.  The
building was painted yellow and faced the west.  Stan thought that would
keep the morning sun out.

   There was a paved lot next to the building.  It was two stories with the
rooms facing the paved lot.  A staircase ran up to the second story from
near the office.  There was a walkway up along the upper rooms.  It had a
wrought-iron railing along it.  Below the rooms opened to the parking lot.
The office was the first thing you passed as you drove on to the lot. 
There was like a car port so that one wouldn't have to get out of the car
in the rain to get to the office.

   Next to the motel was the Good Day Cafe restaurant.  It was a sort of
square building in the same yellow color.  There was a large paved parking
lot next to it with a few cars in it.  He could see through the big picture
windows a few people sitting in booths around the place.

   He pulled into the lot and made a U-turn and pulled back and drove next
door to the motel.  He parked in the lot.  One of the room doors was open,
and a cart parked outside.  He saw a woman going in and out of the room,
taking things off the cart and carrying them in, and bringing sheets and
things out and placing them in a bin on the cart.  He was seeing his first
employee.  She wore a plain dress with a long hem down between her ankles
and knees.  Her hair was long done in a bun behind her head.  She glanced
at him, since Stan looked a little odd sitting in the car like that.

   He got out and walked over to the office.  When Stan opened the door, a
chime rang.  He went in.  An older man with gray, almost white hair was
siting behind the counter at a desk doing something Stan couldn't see.  He
was dressed in a white dress shirt but without a tie or jacket.  He was
wearing a black vest that was unbuttoned.  He had a clean cut look to him.
Just what he would expect to see on base, just with slightly longer hair.

   The man stood up and walked over to the counter with a smile.  He saw
the hat then noticed the stripes on Stan's shirt, "May I help you, Sarge?"

   "Yeah, I'm looking for Ben Cartwright."

   "I'm Ben," the man said, looking Stan over.  It was then he saw the name
"Costello" on the shirt.  He recognized the name, but Stan spoke first.

   "Oh, good, you're the one I need to see.  I'm Stan Costello."

   "Oh, Mr.  Costello, we were told that you might be here anytime now.  It
is nice to meet you.  I hope you like the place."

   "Well, I haven't seen much yet, but from the outside, things look good."

   "I can show you around.  Give me just a minute, Mr.  Costello." He left
what he was doing, then came around the counter.  Stan could see he had
black dress slacks, too.

   "Stan is just fine.  You don't have to call me Mr Costello."

   "Stan, it is then.  Call me Ben," he said, holding out his hand to shake
Stan's hand.

   He took a small BRB clock, he set if for 15 minutes and placed it on the
door.

   "Come on, I'll show you around." they walked out of the office, and he
locked the door.  He looked at Stan.  "We'll get you keys to everything. 
Come this way.  We have sixteen units, eight up and eight down.  Most of
the units are double beds, and the beds are queen sized.  There are four
units as singles.  We keep twelve units nonsmoking.  There are two singles
of smoking and nonsmoking."

   Just then, as they were walking by, the maid came out of a room. 
"Gladys, I want you to meet Stan.  He is the new owner."

   "Pleased to meet you, sir," she said with a slight curtsy.

   They walked into the room she had been cleaning.  Stan took a look
around.  It had two queen-sized beds in the room.  There was a small round
table with two chairs next to it, over by the window.  It sat under a swag
lamp, hanging from the ceiling.  Next to the door was a large window
looking into the room.  For now, the curtains, a sea-foam green, were
opened.  Under the window there was a unit in the wall.

   Ben saw him look at it.  "It serves as both a heater in winter and air
conditioning in summer."

   Stan looked round more.  There were comforters on the beds.  He went
over and sat down on a bed.  It was firm, but not too firm.  He went in
towards the bathroom area.  There was a vanity area with a sink.  On the
counter there was a coffee pot along with filters and small packs of
coffee. A plastic bucket and plastic cups, along with some styrofoam cups.
All were wrapped in plastic.  Stan remembered he saw an ice machine outside
the office.  There were various toiletries.  Inside the bathroom was a
toilet.  There was a tub with a shower.  There were racks for towels. 
There was a light in the ceiling with an exhaust fan.

   Off next to the vanity in a little alcove was a place to put luggage. 
Also, there was a fold down ironing board with a small iron on the vanity.

   Back in the room there was a low dresser with drawers.  On top was a TV
set with a remote on top of that.  Between the beds there was a small night
stand.  There was a phone on it.  Above it was a small light, two bulbs. 
When Stan tried the switch, one twist turned one light, a second twist
turned it off and the other light on, a third turned them both on.  A final
twist of the knob turned them all off.  He noted there were paintings,
seascapes, over the beds.  The walls were an off shade of white.

   He looked at the door.  It was good and solid, with a lock in the knob,
a deadbolt and a chain on it.  The rooms looked well kept.  He didn't see
any dust or any mold around especially in the bathroom.  The floors were
clean.  No stains in the carpet or the floor.

   He looked at Ben.  "Looks pretty good.  All the rooms like this?"

   "Yes.  Of course, except the single rooms, which are a bit smaller. 
Come on, I'll show you the laundry." By now, Gladys was finished with that
room and had moved on to the next.  He pulled the door shut, it locked.

   Ben led him down to a room with a large industrial washer and drier. 
There were stacks of linens.  There were cleaning supplies, a vacuum and
other assorted cleaning things.

   He led Stan back up to the office, unlocking it before he went in.  He
showed him behind the desk.  There were stacks of paperwork that Ben had
been working on.  He explained a little of it.  "Have you ever run a motel
or restaurant before?"

   "No, this was left to me."

   "By Jerry, I assume?"

   "Yeah."

   "What did you do before?"

   "I was in the army.  I was a mechanic.  Both gas and large diesel
engines."

   "How did you end up here with us, if I may ask?"

   "You know, this whole thing is pretty much a surprise to me.  I didn't
know anything about this place, or truthfully, about Jerry, until got a
letter telling me I was the sole heir to this."

   "When did you get the letter?"

   "Just a couple of weeks ago.  Why?"

   "Jerry died about five months ago."

   "What did he die of, or do you know?"

   "It was said a heart attack.  He's buried in the town cemetery, if you
would like to see."

   "Yeah maybe, I just want to check out the places.  He owned the
restaurant next door?"

   "Yes, he did.  If you want to go over there, now would be the best time
before they get very busy with lunch.  Ask for Marie, she'll show you
around.  Let me call over and tell her you're coming.  She is pretty much
in charge there.  But I do a lot of the ordering for them and their
schedules.  Leah and Dinah are working the floor and Marie is the cook. 
Oh, you might see him.  Gabriel is the busboy.  If you want to eat, when
you go in ask to be seated in booth 12.  You can see most things from
there."

   "I think I'll do just that," Stan said.  He took his shirt with the
stripes off and put it in the car, then walked over.

   When he walked in, he saw a middle aged woman in a pink dress with a
black apron over it.  He noted that she had very large breasts.  "She sure
filled that dress," he thought.  The dress was long, like Gladys'.  He told
her, "Take me to booth 12, and I want to see Marie."

   She gave him a bit of a suspicious look, but led him back to booth 12.
"I'll tell her you want to see her.  Can you tell me why you want to see
Marie?  She's busy." She said in an indignant tone.

   "I want to know how things are going here."

   "What do you mean, how things are going?  Look here, you come in and
start telling me where you're going to sit, wanting to see people, then
asking questions.  Who do you think you are?"

   Just then, another woman appeared at the booth.  She looked at the first
woman and said, "Hold your tongue.  Did you get him a menu?" The woman
turned to fetch one.

   "Hi, I take it you're Stan, our new owner, welcome.  I'm Marie.  Ben
just called and said you were coming over."

   Stan got a look at her.  Maybe mid 30s with dark hair.  She was nice
looking.  She was wearing a vee neck colored knit polo shirt under her
apron that covered her chest, down to her knees.  She had what Stan guessed
were B cup breasts, a change from the other woman.  "Hi, Marie.  I guess I
didn't make a good first impression on her."

   The woman handed him the menu.  "I'll be back to take your order."

   "Can you send the other waitress over?" Stan said.

   The woman was about to come undone.  Marie gave her a look, and she knew
not to say anything.  She turned and left, huffing under her breath.

   "Don't worry about Leah.  She's just having a bad day.  She had a large
party for breakfast and she worked her buns off, and they only left her a
dollar.  I need to get some orders out.  I hope you can cut her some slack.
When you finish, came in the back and see me.  I'll have Dinah take your
order.  I think Leah will be feeling kinda foolish when she knows who you
are." Marie said with a smile before heading back into the kitchen.

   A couple of seconds later, the other waitress appeared.  "May I take
your order, sir," she said with a smile.  She was young, maybe late teens.
She had the same pink dress with the black apron.  But her dress was much
shorter, a couple of inches above the knee.

   Stan ordered.  His food was brought out quickly.  He ate, the food was
good.  It was an ample portion.  He had noted the price on the menu.  While
he sat there, he was able to see the operation.  He saw a young Hispanic
man, dressed in that vee neck colored knit polo shirt and jeans.  He left
carrying a styrofoam take-out container.  He looked to be going next door.
He was back quickly, so wherever he went it wasn't far.  Stan sat there
longer watching the comings and goings, and the waitresses while they
worked.  It seemed to be slowing down.

   The young man came over.  "You are finished with these, sir?" he asked
about the empty dishes sitting on the table.  He was that young Hispanic
man he saw with the take-out container.

   "Yes, I am.  You are the busboy?"

   "Yes sir, I am.  I am Gabriel.  I clear your table now, sir.  You need
something else?"

   "Sure, you know my waitress Dinah?" Stan took out some money from his
wallet, he figured 20% of the bill, and said, "Give this to her," he said
handing him the money.  When Gabriel had walked away, he got up and went
back to the kitchen.

   Gabriel found Dinah, and told her, "This is from the man at booth 12. 
He say to give to you."

   She looked back.  The booth was empty.  She hadn't taken the money for
his check.  She looked around.  She couldn't see him.  She asked Leah, "Did
you take any money for the check for the guy in 12?  I hadn't given him the
check yet.  He left me a tip and split."

   Leah said, "No!  At least you got a tip." She then stormed into the
kitchen to talk to Marie.  "That guy you were talking to, he left a tip for
Dinah, but he didn't pay his bill.  Can you imagine the nerve?" She said,
very agitated.

   Stan had gone inside inspecting the walk-in fridge.  Just then, he came
out of the fridge back into view.  He had heard what she said.

   Leah saw him, pointed at him and barked.  "You!  What do think you are
do...."

   But Marie cut her off, "Leah," she said with an `I told you so smile,'
"I'd like you to meet our new owner.  This is Stan."

   Leah's face turned several shades of red.  "Oh, I'm sorry, sir, for what
I said earlier," she stammered.

   "I understand you had a bad morning, Leah.  Try to see to it that one
bad table doesn't carry over on to all your tables that day or any day."

   "Yes, sir," she said meekly, and backed out of the kitchen as fast as
she could.  He saw her out of the corner of his eye.  She had gone up to
Dinah and was no doubt telling her the news.

   Stan asked, "I saw Gabriel carrying some take out earlier.  I am
guessing to next door?"

   "Yes, he was taking over my husband's lunch.  Sometimes, Ben gets busy
and can't find the time to come over and eat."

   "There was no charge for him, I take it?"

   "No, there isn't a charge for him, or me, and the employees get a 50%
discount.  That's OK?  It is what Jerry always did?" She asked, now a
little concerned.

   "No, that's fine.  We can continue to follow his policies.  Now please
show me the rest." Marie, between getting orders out, showed or told him
about the rest of the place.  He inspected even the bathrooms, though he
made sure he knocked before he went in to the women's.  He was pleased with
all he saw.

   Stan was going to go back next door.  He spoke to Marie, "Find out what
the tip would have been, had the people tipped Leah the way they should
have.  Make sure she gets that tip today.  You can take it out of today's
take.  Just put a note in there.  That's where the money went."

   He came back to the motel.  He noticed the glass was very thick.  He
hadn't noticed it before.  There was also a place with a sliding drawer
through the glass with a speaking port there.  He asked Ben, "What is
that?"

   "That is our after hours check in."

   "How does that work?"

   "The glass you might have noticed is bulletproof."

   "I hadn't noticed until now," Stan admitted.

   "The drawer there is so we can accept new guests late at night without
opening the office.  That way, there are no robberies.  They don't come
into the office.  Everything is done securely through that port.  We can
take their money or card through there and give the room key that way."

   "You do that?  You're here all night?"

   "No, we have a night man.  He sleeps during the day, that's why you
haven't seen him yet.  He has a small place back behind the office. 
Actually, we use some of the space behind the single rooms for his place so
it doesn't take up too much additional space on the foot print of the
building."

   "How long has this motel been here?" Stan asked.

   "About nine years.  The motel and the restaurant were built at the same
time."

   "You've been with it since then?"

   "Yes."

   "When did Jerry buy it?"

   "Oh, he didn't buy it.  He had it built.  Seems he had some money when
he came here, and he got some kind of government loan and had the place
built."

   "You make a profit?"

   "Yes, after paying the wages, taxes, insurance, the loan, and all the
other expenses of running the places.  There would be about six thousand
profit each month.  Some times it varies a bit because of the gas station
and the price of oil.  Jerry was working on paying off the loan sooner, so
he would only take about two thousand a month for himself.  The rest of the
money he would spend to keep up the place and making extra payments on the
loan.  Since his passing, we have kept that up.  Oh, and there was one
other thing he did.  At Christmas he would give little bonuses to the
staff."

   Ben showed him how the bookkeeping was done and told him about the
accounts.  Stan understood, he had taken those accounting and bookkeeping
courses in high school.

   Before long, it was getting late for Ben.  His shift was about done. 
About then a man maybe mid 40s walked in, also dressed in a nice white
shirt and slacks, but no tie or jacket, but also wearing the unbuttoned
black vest.

   He came back behind the counter.  Ben said, "Joe, this is Stan, our new
owner."

   "Nice to meet you Stan.  I'm Joseph Woolley," he said as he held out his
hand.  "The lawyers finally sold us?" he asked Ben.

   "No, Stan here is Jerry's heir.  He is here to take over the management
of the place."

   "I have to ask," Joe said, "are you going to be bringing in your own
team to work here?"

   "No, I don't have a team.  I don't have any plans along that way.  Of
course, if I see there are things that need to be changed, I will make the
changes," Stan said.  "But for right now, I don't see anything that I need
to change.  I just got here this morning.  I am learning how things are
here."

   "Come on, Stan, we'll go next door.  You haven't been over to the gas
station yet, have you?" Ben said.

   "No, not yet."

   Ben led the way as they walked across a large dirt lot.  Stan asked,
"Who owns this?"

   "You do."

   "What's it for?"

   "We can have truckers park here.  That way, we don't have a heavy load
sitting in the parking lot."

   They got over to the station.  It was just two islands set at a right
angle to each other, with one in front of the station, and the other to the
side.  There were two double sided pumps on the one island in front and the
one to the side had three pumps.  The one in front had an awning stretching
from the office over the pumps.  Next to the office were a couple of
service bays.  They were empty.  Next to the pumps was the same dirt, no
pavement.

   They went in and a young man greeted him, "Hey, Ben, what brings you
over?  I was going to bring everything over as soon as Noah gets here,
which should be right about now."

   As if on cue, an older big man walked in.  Ben turned around.  "Good,
Noah you're here, I have to do this only once.  This is Stan.  He is the
new owner, he is Jerry's heir."

   The big man put out his hand and shook it.  Stan looked at the guy. 
This is someone he wouldn't want to tangle with.  From behind, he heard the
man behind him say, "Hey Stan welcome." The big man, Noah, just gave him a
friendly smile.  Stan looked at him.  He was wearing a vee neck colored
knit polo shirt.

   Stan turned to see the other man.  "Hello, Matt, is it?"

   "Yeah, anything you need?"

   "No, not now, thanks Matt," he said as he held out his hand.  Matt had
on the same kind of shirt, only in a different color.

   "Let me have the receipts, and you can clock out and go," Ben told him.
Ben took them while Noah was checking the meters to see how much gas had
been sold.  He would turn those figures over to Joe later.

   Ben and Stan walked back over to the motel and gave it to Joe.  He was
working at the books.  He looked at the printouts and counted the money. 
He put it in a wall safe hidden behind some accounting books.  Ben went
over and shook Stan's hand.  "I'll be seeing you in the morning?"

   "Yeah, I want to see how the place runs and meet the people."

   Stan went behind the counter.  "I hope you don't mind my looking over
your shoulder," he told Joe, as he pulled up a chair.

   "No, not at all," he told his new boss.

   Stan watched as Joe was working on his paperwork.  But he was
interrupted time and time again.  The closer it got to dinner time, the
more the traffic picked up.  It wasn't too long before most of the rooms
had been taken.  Something Stan was happy to see.

   Stan was hungry.  He headed over to the restaurant.  He was greeted by a
smiling girl, maybe eighteen at most.  She had the same pink uniform with
the black apron.  But her dress was short, like Dinah.  She looked at Stan
and asked, "One?"

   He looked at her name tag.  "Yeah, Tabitha, is booth 12 still open?" he
asked.

   She looked back over her shoulder.  "Yes, you would like to sit there?"

   "Yeah.  By the way, I am Stan.  I'm your new owner," he told her.  He
thought it better if he told them right away.

   "Oh, nice to meet you, sir.  We were told you were here.  Right this
way," she said as she led him back to the booth.

   "Have the other staff come by and see me.  When they have the chance, no
hurry on seeing them."

   He sat down and looked over the dinner portion of the menu.  He had
glanced at it before when he had been in for lunch.  He made his choice. 
In time, he wanted to sample everything on the menu.  Tabitha took his
order, and a couple of minutes later, a young man came out of the kitchen.
He was wearing jeans and a vee neck colored knit polo shirt with a brown
leather like apron that covered most of his chest and went down to his
knees.

   "You are Mr.  Stan?" he said as he presented himself.

   "Yes, and who might you be?"

   "I'm Jacob."

   "What do you do here, Jacob?"

   "I'm the dishwasher."

   "Nice to meet you Jacob, I won't keep you from your duties.  I know you
can be busy."

   "Yes sir, thank you sir." he turned and headed back into the kitchen. 
The people at the next table finished and left.

   Shortly after that a young girl appeared, she cleared the table.  She
also had a knit colored polo shirt.  Her top filled it out a bit, but not
too much.  She left the money on the table.  Stan stopped her.  "What might
your name be?" he asked since she wasn't wearing a name tag either.

   She looked at him.  At first, she thought that he was trying to pick her
up.  But then she heard that the new owner was here.  He must be the one.
He was so young to be the owner, and handsome too, she thought.  "I'm
Eliza, sir."

   "You don't have to call me sir."

   "You are the new owner?" She asked.

   "Yes, you all can call me Stan.  You are the busboy, well, busgirl?"

   "Yes, sir, I mean Stan, I am."

   "It is nice to meet you Eliza, you can go about your work.  Don't let me
hold you up." She turned a little pink while smiling at him.  He made her
blush.  He must still have it.  This girl was lucky to be sixteen, he
thought.

   A minute later, Tabitha appeared.  She picked up the money off the
table, putting it in her pocket.  She seated a new couple at the booth. 
She handed them the menus and asked what they would like to drink.  She
returned with glasses of water.  She promised to come back for their order
after they had a chance to look at the menu.

   Tabitha brought his order, Stan tucked into his food.  So far, he liked
the food served to him.  He finished it.  He continued to sit there,
watching things.  The place was hopping.  Eliza returned to collect his
dishes.  She smiled at him as she worked.

   As he sat watching, the couple finished and left.  Eliza was back and
cleaned the table with a look at Stan and a shy smile.  Another young
woman, she couldn't be much older than Tabitha, she seated a family of two
parents and a couple of kids and one little one.  She brought them a high
chair for their baby.  He stopped the waitress.  "What is your name?" he
asked her.

   "I'm Stella, sir.  I can get your waitress if you need her."

   "No, I don't need her.  I'm Stan."

   She gave him a dumbfounded look.  Then the light came on, and she said,
"Oh, you're our new owner."

   "Yes.  You have another waitress on tonight?"

   "Yes, Maryann, shall I send her over?"

   "No, I'll take a walk around.  I'll meet her." Before he left, he put a
20% tip down on the table even though Tabitha didn't leave a check.

   He walked back into the kitchen.  The cook was busy.  Jacob saw Stan
come in.  He called out "Jethro," when he looked over towards Jacob.  He
nodded in Stan's direction.

   Jethro said, "May I help you?"

   "I am Stan."

   "Oh, nice to meet you.  I'd shake hands with you but I want to keep my
hands clean, you know cooking and all."

   "I had some of your cooking.  It was very good.  I will leave you to
your work.  I can see we are busy here." Stan noted he had the same thing
on a vee neck colored knit polo shirt.  But nobody was wearing the same
color.

   As Stan was making his way to the front, the other waitress was acting
as a cashier for some people who were leaving.  He waited until she was
finished with them.  He spoke to her, "You must be Maryann."

   "And you would be Stan, our new owner?" She said, smiling.

   "I am.  You all have been hopping tonight."

   "It's about typical.  We do a good trade." She came out from behind the
register.  She had the same uniform it reached down lower than Tabitha's.
She was in her mid to late 20s, Stan thought.  He noticed the wedding ring
on her hand.

   "I'll be seeing you," Stan said as he made his way out of the place,
headed back to the motel.

   He joined Joe, who was talking to an old man.  "Stan, this is Abner
Mortensen, he is our night man."

   "Nice to meet you Abner," Stan said.

   "Likewise," he said.

   Then he saw Gladys come from behind a curtain.  "Supper is on the
table," she said, then went back behind the curtain.

   Abner got up and headed back to where she had disappeared.  "The ball
and chain is calling.  I got to go."

   He walked back where she went, then heard a door close.  "What's up with
them?" Stan asked.

   "Abner lives in a small apartment back there.  Gladys is his wife.  She
is our day maid.  Did you meet her?" Joe asked.

   "Yes, this morning.  So he works nights, and she works days.  Doesn't
make for much time together."

   "I think they have been together so long, I think they like having less
time together.  When did you get here?" Joe asked.

   "Late this morning."

   "Have you seen much of the town?"

   "No, this was the first place I came to, and I stopped here.  So I
haven't seen anything."

   "I can tell you about it if you want."

   "Please, I want to know if I'm going to be living here."

   "Well.  Eldon is the county seat for Pine Martin County.  It was founded
as a stop on the Pony Express, and later Mormon settlers, came here.  The
railroad came next and the city has grown slowly since then.  The county
has about nine thousand people, a little more than half of them live here
in Eldon.  As a county, we have a mine out west of here, at Boaz."

   "Yeah, I saw something about that as I was headed here.  What are they
mining there?"

   "Molybdenum.  It's a strip mine though.  What they do is mine it there,
then they bring it into town to the railroad.  The railroad takes it to the
coast.  I think it gets shipped to Japan and they smelt it there."

   "Why do that?"

   "They used to do it here, but I guess it cost less to do it that way. 
The same way there used to be a sawmill up in Rigby, but it would cost more
to run it than send it to saw mills in Oregon."

   "So they have mining and timber?"

   "Yeah, there is that and some farms, and a few ranches.  They are mostly
sheep.  Then there are the normal things you would find in a small city:
grocery stores, furniture stores, places to fix your car.  This isn't a dry
county, so there are bars too."

   "I know you have gambling down in Vegas, and I saw they have it in
Reno."

   "Well, this Nevada, so of course there is gambling.  There are a few
slot machines around.  Some business have them.  We don't.  This county
also permits it, so we have bordellos."

   "What?  You have whorehouses here?"

   "Yes, two of them.  They have been here a long time.  It is kind of
normal.  This is Nevada.  We do some things different here.  The people
here are pretty open minded."

   "I would think so," Stan said.

   "You should check them out." Stan gave him a look.  "I don't mean to
have one of the girls.  The Four Queens is a unique place, almost like a
museum, and Slim John's Beaver Ranch can give us a run for the money.  They
can produce a pretty good steak," Joe told him.

   "What else have you got here?" Stan asked.

   "There is the railroad.  It has been here a long time.  We have some
tourist attractions.  Then there is the travel industry in which we are a
part.  We cater to the snow bunnies in winter, and they have opened a new
National Park near here.  We are hoping to pick up more tourists from that,
especially in the summer.  Until the Interstate opens, and we get bypassed,
we'll still have two main Federal highways cross here, one going
north/south and the other east/west.  That brings trucks through.  So there
are those things to support us.  That gives us all the things a city needs:
schools, churches, a hospital, doctors, banks and such."

   "I will need a bank.  I guess if I am going to live here.  I'll have to
get other things, like doctors."

   "You can go to Ben's wife."

   "Ben's wife?" Stan asked, puzzled.

   "Well, not her.  She is pediatrics and Ob/Gyn.  But you can see her
partners, they do family practice.  Interesting thing about them, they are
four doctors, but they are all brothers and sisters.  Her brother, Peter
Olsen, started the practice, then Elizabeth joined.  She is Ben's wife. 
Then their other sister, Naomi, joined them.  Lastly it was Simon who
joined.  He's their surgeon.  Peter would be your best bet.  He is internal
medicine, and deals with men's problems.  Naomi does more with families or
females.  There are a few other doctors in town.  There is another practice
of four partners.  Then there is one guy who is on his own but he only does
geriatric."

   "Interesting," Stan said, thinking about that bit of information about
Ben.  "Who do you see?"

   "I see Peter.  Most of our families see their practice."

   "Now tell me a bit more about all of your roles here."

   "I do the daily totals of the businesses.  Sort of the money manager of
what comes in daily.  I see that it gets deposited in the bank.  Tonight
when Abner comes in he does the payroll, and the employee's insurance,
those types of things.  He doesn't get too many coming in looking for a
room at night.  Sometimes, but not too often.  So that is what he is doing
all night.  Ben is a kind of the general manager.  He does accounts
receivable and accounts payable.  Which is kinda the main bookkeeping.  He
also does the schedules.  Here and at the station, everything is pretty
well set.  It's at the restaurant, that is the one with all the different
schedules.  Most of them work part time, except Marie.  She is day cook,
and Jethro, he is the evening cook.  There is one other cook, Adam. 
Sometimes he works days, on Marie's days off and other times evenings when
Jethro is off."

   "What did Jerry do?"

   "He was sort of executive manager.  He oversaw everything and dealt with
the banks and things.  The other thing he liked to say he did was
`strategic planning'."

   "What does that mean?"

   "He was sort of an `idea man', he would say.  He would come up with
ideas and he would try them out and see if they could fly."

   "Did they fly?"

   "Sometimes, not all the time, but once in a while, he would come up with
a good workable idea, and it would go.  Have you been over to see his
house? I guess your house now."

   "No, not yet."

   "Oh, if you haven't, where are you staying tonight?"

   "I hadn't thought of it, but there I guess."

   "You may not want to do that.  It has been shut up since he died.  I
think Miriam went over there and did a little cleaning about a week after
he died, but no one has been in there since then.  It might need a cleaning
and airing out.  I wouldn't plan on spending the night there until that's
been done."

   "We still have rooms here?"

   "We do have some rooms left.  I have a single left.  It's a nonsmoking
room.  You don't smoke, do you?"

   "No, I don't."

   "Good, I'll put you in there for tonight.  I'll leave a note for Ben to
have Miriam go over and open up Jerry's old place for you."

   "Thanks, that would be nice.  Maybe I'll take that room now.  I was up
early to come here this morning."

   As they were talking a woman came in, said hello, and walked behind the
counter back to the where the curtained area was, opened the door and went
in.  Nothing else was said.

   "Who was that?" Stan asked.

   "That was Eunice.  She works the evening shift as the maid," Joe said as
he was getting the key to the room for Stan.

   Stan just looked at Joe and at the curtained area, but said nothing
about that.  But, he did have a question: "May I ask you Joe, you and Ben
are wearing those white shirts and the black vest and slacks, did you both
happen to wear the same thing to work today?"

   "No, this is how Jerry wanted us to dress."

   "Is the same true for the staff at the gas station and restaurant?  I
saw them wearing polo shirts and jeans?"

   "Yes, that is Jerry's doing too.  As far as the polo shirts go they
could be any color, just that same style.  He also picked out the dresses
for the waitresses.  But, he left it up to them on hem length.  The aprons,
if noticed, have pockets in them.  They could put the checks, pens, and
things.  The maids uniforms which really only Eunice, Gladys, and Miriam,
he let them pick what they would wear."

   Taking the key, he walked back to his car and got his duty bag out and
tossed it down in his room.  He sat back on the bed and used the remote to
turn on the TV.  He wandered around the dial a bit.  Most of the stations
were out of Reno, but a couple were from Vegas.  There wasn't anything
local.  He stripped down to his shorts and get in under the covers and
found the bed was warm and nice, not too hard, not too soft.  He was asleep
in no time.

   Stan was up early and headed down to the office.  Abner opened it up,
and Stan came in.  They spoke only for a minute, sort of how's it going
type of chit chat.  Abner was an older man.  He was friendly.  He looked to
be older than Colonel Sanders by ten years, at least.  Gladys was his
junior by twenty years easily.  She had ten years on Eunice, that wasn't
enough years to be her mother.  He wondered how they were all related, or
were they?

   Ben came in, and after a little report as to how the night went, Abner
retired to his room, and Ben took over.  One of the first things he did was
call Miriam and ask her to go over and air out Jerry's house and make sure
there wasn't any expired food in the fridge or anything.

   "Now she'll come in and get keys?" Stan asked.

   "No, she has a key to the house.  She was Jerry's special maid.  In
fact, she is the one who found Jerry.  He must have gone to bed and died in
his sleep.  She worked for him but also works here part time.  She relieves
Gladys and Eunice when they have their days off.

   Stan watched as Ben started the day.  He had questions, Ben patiently
answered.  Stan wasn't overbearing or anything, but work goes quicker when
you don't have to explain everything you're doing.  Stan was hungry and
went next door for breakfast.  He made a point of meeting the two day shift
waitresses today: Anna was older and Deborah was younger.  At most, she was
mid twenty's.  But they both wore the longer style of dresses.

   In talking to Deborah, it came out that her last name was Woolley.  Stan
asked, "Are you any relation to Joseph Woolley?"

   "Yes, he is my husband.  You met him?"

   "Yes, I did.  Nice to meet you too now."

   Stan ate, leaving her a nice tip.  Going back to the motel office, he
asked Ben about banks.  Ben said there were two in town.  He told which one
the business used, and where it was.

   Stan needed a bank, so he headed over there now that they would be open.
He sat down with a woman in her mid 30s to open an account.  Stan said he
was the new owner of the Good Night Motel.  He had brought along the papers
from the lawyers showing that he was now the owner of Jerry's businesses
and his accounts.

   When she saw the papers she said, "Oh, then you know my husband Joe."
Stan looked at her name tag it read Isabel Woolley.

   "Yes, I do," Stan told her.  The thought flashed through Stan's head,
"He has two wives?  Do they know about each other?  Or is one an ex-wife?"

   He wanted to open the account and gave her the information to transfer
the money he had in his army savings account.  He didn't want to close the
army account just yet, as he should be getting one more pay deposit.  All
totaled, he was going to be able to put some $60,000 in this account.

   He also asked about any accounts in Jerry's name.  She said she would
have to look.  His first one was a regular account.  That had only $30,000.
Jerry told her he had a numbered account in a bank in Switzerland.  That
was where most of his money was.  That money was moved here, and funded a
second account.  He then had over $785,000 dollars in that account.  Jerry
had just paid the taxes on it before he died.

   There was also $47,000 in the business account.  Stan left that money
there, but he asked how to combine the money in Jerry's accounts with his.
She told him, first the money from the overseas bank where Stan had his
money that would fund his account should come in.  Then they could move
money from Jerry's two accounts into it.  It would take a couple of days.
So he cashed a couple of his traveler's checks.  He used that to open the
account and to have a little more money in his pocket.

   Leaving the bank, he drove around the town.  There was the main street,
which was the Federal highway.  Most of the businesses lined that street.
Just down the street from him was a big chain motel.  He noted on their
sign they had cable color TV and free movies.

   There were a few other motels in town, as well as several restaurants.
He had competition.

   The town itself wasn't that big in width, but it was long.  Everything
stretched out along the highway.  There was another highway running south
with a smaller business strip along it.

   Along the north side of town there was a bench, that is ground higher
than the road along the highway.  Most of the houses were up there.  They
were spaced far apart in places, others were closer.  Some were even the
pre-built mobile home types.  The ones spaced apart, he noted, were large.
They had out buildings that could almost be apartments apart from the main
building.  He noted a couple of churches.  There was a Catholic church, a
Protestant one.  There was a big one he recognized as a Mormon church.  As
he drove by, it didn't have the usual name he was used to seeing.  He saw
that read it "Reestablished Latter Day Saints." That was different, he
thought.  Were they the same church as the Mormons?

   South of the highway, there were only a few streets that ran parallel to
the main road.  This was more of the industrial side of the town.  There
were businesses that couldn't get on to the main drag, others that maybe
didn't want to be on it, or couldn't be on it.  He found without looking
for them the Four Queens and Slim John's Beaver Ranch.  Around that area,
there were several bars.  On the streets that ran perpendicular to the main
road, there were businesses mixed with open areas.  On a fourth street
parallel to the highway was the railroad station.  It didn't serve
passengers any more, but the loading and unloading of freight.  There were
trees ready to be loaded, as well a large pile of what looked like rocks
and gravel.  That must be from the mine, Stan figured.

   Out beyond the railroad, he could see the tower of an airport.  He
followed a road out to there.  There was commercial traffic, but it looked
to be mostly small private planes parked out there.

   Nearby he saw the town cemetery.  It wasn't too big.  He drove in and
spotted a caretaker.  He asked about Jerry's grave.  The man gave Stan
directions to where it was.  He found it rather quickly.  He looked down at
the name on the stone.  It said Jerry Martin, it gave his birth in 1910 and
his death early this year.  He was all of 71.  Stan figured that would have
been a decent life span.  All Stan could say while looking down at him was,
"Thanks, Jerry or Geraldo, whoever you were."

   He drove back to the motel.  Ben was hard at work.  No sooner than Stan
had come in, then a man in a sheriff's uniform walked in.  Behind him were
a few other men.

   "You're Stan Costello?" he asked.

   Stan looked at him, wondering if he was in some kind of trouble. 
"Yeah," he said.

   "The man held out his hand.  I'm Amos Romney.  Don't let the uniform get
to you.  I'm Sheriff of Pine Martin County, but also I am chairman of the
Pine Martin Chamber of Commerce.  This is Judge, Roy Beam, the Vice Chair,
Tim Hansen, Treasurer, and Ananias Christensen ranking member." Each had
waved as their name was called.  "As you are new in our town, we are here
to welcome you to the community.  As a business owner, you are eligible to
join the chamber.  We would welcome you most warmly if you did."

   "That is very nice of you.  What does the chamber do?"

   The judge spoke, "We promote businesses here and help them grow.  It is
hoped their growth will grow the community as a whole."

   "Yes," said Tim, "if the community grows, we all benefit.  There would
be more civic improvements, more parks, better fire protection, and police
services.  Even better schools." Looking at Ben, he added.  "Not that our
schools are bad.  They are pretty good." He turned back to face Stan, "Ben
here, his wife, Inga, is a sixth grade teacher, and a darn good one too. 
What was it she got last year?" He said, looking back at Ben.

   "She was teacher of the year, that is the second time she was won it. 
But don't go getting all excited.  We only have three elementary schools
and one intermediate school and one high school in the whole county.  Not
that many teachers, so she doesn't have that much competition."

   "No competition at all, I'd say," Sheriff Romney said.  "Ben was just
being modest, a trait that suits him.  His wife is a darn good teacher."

   "I just got into town yesterday, so I'm still getting my bearings, and
seeing my new businesses, to see what it is I own.  Do you have anything
that I can see, or read I mean information about your chamber?"

   "Yeah, sure, Ananias, give him that packet.  That has about all you
would want or need to know, and our address here in Eldon is included. 
Drop by the office, we would love to visit with you.  If you'll pardon us
now, the judge and I have a hanging to attend....  Just kidding, we haven't
hanged anyone in the courthouse square, in what, three years now?" He said,
looking at the judge.

   The judge replied, "About that I guess," he said with a smile.

   "We'd love to have you join us," Sheriff Romney said.  "In the Chamber
that is, we don't expect you to come to a hanging," he said with a smile.

   Then they all turned and walked out, leaving the packet of information
for Stan.  Ben said, "He was kidding, they don't do executions like that
and haven't for 70 years or more.  The sheriff is a big joker.  Don't take
him too seriously."

   When they were alone, Stan said, "I have to ask.  I hope you don't mind;
the sheriff said that your wife is a teacher.  Joe said she is a doctor,
and I spoke with Marie, the cook, next door and she said she is your wife.
They all aren't the same person, so you are married to three women?  How is
that so?"

   Ben took a deep breath, he let it out slowly then said, "You might as
well know, Jerry did, and it didn't matter to him.  But yes, I am married
to all of them."

   "Do they know about each other?"

   "Of course, you can't keep something like that a secret from people,
especially around here."

   "How do you get away with it?  I mean, don't the women get mad about
that?  Never mind the sheriff knowing about it."

   "Let me explain some things to you.  I hope it won't make you think too
poorly of us here.  Yes, my wives all know about each other.  We sort of
live communally.  It is part of our religion.  I don't worry about the
sheriff or the judge.  They are members of our church too.  We are what you
would call polygamous Mormons."

   "How many are there of you?  I mean, people in your church that do
that?"

   "About one third of the people in the county are members of our church."


   "Joe was telling me there were about nine thousand people in the county,
so your church is like three thousand strong?"

   "Yes, here in Pine Martin County.  But we have churches in other
counties around Nevada, over in Utah, Wyoming, and Arizona.  We have some
churches in British Columbia, Canada, and in Mexico.  All totaled, there
are some seventy thousand of us."

   "Seventy thousand?  I thought you were more.  Aren't your numbers in the
millions?"

   "No, you are thinking of the church over in Utah.  They are the ones who
are in the millions."

   "I thought Mormons didn't do that any more?  You all still marry lots of
wives?  You just aren't telling anyone about it?"

   "No, no, they don't have plural wives.  They stopped doing that around
the end of the last century.  They did it so they could get statehood for
Utah."

   "If they don't do it, and you do, how do you account for that?"

   "We're a different church from them.  We feel that they had the truth,
and they traded it for political expediency.  God had commanded us to be
plentiful and fill the earth.  That is what we are trying to do.  But the
church in Utah had the truth and threw it way for political gain."

   "So, what's the deal with you now?"

   "We are a separate church from them.  We have our own way of doing
things, our own prophet.  We are similar, but we didn't compromise the
truth.  We have stayed true to god.  So we're not a part of them.  When
they went wrong, they fell and their prophet no longer had a place with
god. A new prophet was put in his place and the church was reestablished.
That is what we are: the `Reestablished Latter Day Saints.'"

   "Why did you guys even have polygamy to begin with?"

   "I would have to explain the basis of our religion to you.  Do you have
the time, or the interest?"

   "I have all the time I want.  I'm your boss.  It is only a question of
do you have the time?" Stan said with a laugh.

   "I'll tell you what, why don't we go next door, and I'll tell you over
lunch.  Here, take this menu, look it over and decide what you want.  I'll
call it over and Marie will get it started, and we'll have our food that
much sooner."

   Stan looked it over, choosing something he hadn't had already, and Ben
called it over.  There was a different woman working: Kate.  Ben introduced
Stan to her and informed her of his ownership.  She knew to seat Ben back
in Booth 12.  Stan looked at her.  She was mid 20s and the same long dress.
He noticed a wedding ring on her.

   Ben spoke, "OK, to tell you about our religion: you have to understand
that as man is, god once was.  As god is, man may become.  That is what
each man in our church is striving to do, become a god, and his wife would
be, the wife of a god."

   "That would give you more than one god," Stan interjected.

   "There is more than one god.  But not as far as our planet is concerned.
We have only one god, he is father elohim.  He is our heavenly father. 
Long ago, before our planet was created, father elohim lived on the planet
Kolob.  In that place, you can call it heaven, he had many children.  In
fact, every child that was or will be born here on earth is a child of
father elohim.  You got to figure that with so many babies, there can't be
only one wife to mother all those babies.  Would you want to give birth
over six billion times?"

   "Well, that could be a chore.  But why do they have or he have so many
babies?" Stan asked.

   "Each baby born in heaven is a spirit baby.  That baby needs a body so
that it can live, die, and be resurrected.  Then it can continue on, going
from glory to glory until finally they reach godhood and they then become
the god of their own planet."

   "You're saying all planets are doing this and the people there become
gods?"

   "Not people, only men become gods.  Women are the wife of god.  When the
men of our church are married, they are sealed to their wives for all of
eternity.  When you are dead and have been resurrected, your wife is, too.
You are still married.  You are married for all time and eternity."

   "So the til dead do us part, doesn't apply to you?"

   "No, because we believe you live after you die, and in that life we are
meant to become gods.  Some people don't choose to go that route, they
choose to do evil or just not do the right thing, so they will miss out on
heaven, and the chance to become gods.  For us we need to follow god's
teachings and do as he would have us do, despite some of the consequences.
The church in Utah chose not to follow god and took the easy way.  They
wanted statehood for Utah more than they wanted to follow god.  They chose
to do evil in his sight and have fallen.  They will miss out on heaven and
won't become gods, as father elohim intended.  That is what god revealed to
Joseph Smith, and we began to practice that.  So did they, but they wanted
statehood.  So it is what they threw away to become a state."

   As Ben spoke their food arrived, they talked as they ate.  When they
finished, Stan made sure to leave a tip even though there was no check.

   They went back to the office.  Stan had a few more questions, "You say
Jerry knew all this, well maybe not the religion part of it, but that you
guys were all polygamous?"

   "Yes, he knew it, and the religion too.  When we were hiring people when
we first opened this place.  The first person he hired was me.  He allowed
me to hire who I wanted.  He knew that I had three wives, it didn't bother
him.  After he understood things, he never asked any more questions about
it.  It didn't matter to him why we do what we do.  He just accepted it, as
that's how it is and that's how it will be."

   "Now about a third of the residents of Pine Martin County are members of
our church, so we are a minority, but a decent sized one.  The rest of the
people of the county don't care about it, like Jerry, or don't know about
it.  We don't advertise it.  But we don't keep it a secret if people ask.
Most people don't know or don't care, they just let people go on about
their business without worrying what their neighbor is doing.  Likewise we
have two houses here in town where there is prostitution.  Most people know
it, they just accept it as it just is.  Nobody tries to stop it.  It is
legal.  Nobody wants to make it illegal.  Those who want to go there, do,
and people don't look down on them for it.  They don't look down on the
women who provide the service.  People also don't ask who goes there.  It
is all live and let live, and try to stay out of your neighbor's business."


   As he was finishing telling Stan, Miriam came in.  Eunice had the
afternoon off.  "I aired it out real good.  It was pretty stuffy in there.
I cleaned out the fridge.  There are some things in the freezer, looks like
they are still good.  You're gonna rent it out or something and have
somebody living there?"

   "Yes, Stan here is our new owner.  Jerry had a will and left everything
to him including the house.  He's going to be living there."

   "Oh, nice to meet you, sir.  I dusted and cleaned.  I didn't disturb
anything.  Everything is the way Jerry left it.  I did change the sheets on
the bed.  I also cleaned the bathroom, but his toiletries are still there,
so is there anything else you need?"

   "Thank you Miriam," Ben said to her.  To Stan, he said, "Let me get you
keys."

   "Will you be wanting me to stay on as the maid for the house?" she
asked.

   Stan thought about it for a second then said, "Yes, for now, let me see
the house and figure out how busy I will be.  By the way Ben, you'll have
to give me the address, and directions, if you don't mind."

   Ben did as requested.  A set of keys to the house was given, and he drew
a map of the city and directions how to get there.

   Before Stan left to go and see the house, he asked, "I assume there is
electricity to the house?"

   "Yes, there is, we kept that on.  Partly to have some heat to keep the
pipes from freezing and for the lights.  There are lights in the house that
would turn on and off on timers, and Jerry's car is in the drive.  So it
looks like someone is there.  But we did turn off the phone.  I can call
and get service restored there, also we can get cable TV for it."

   "Yes, please do both," Stan said.  "I wish I knew he had a car I
wouldn't have bought one."

   "His car is pretty old, I think he had it when he came here.  He didn't
drive much, just around here was all.  I don't think he went anywhere.  I
don't even think he went to Reno to see the lawyers, if I remember they
came here," Ben said.

   Stan took the keys and the directions.  He found the place easy enough.
The car in the drive must have been from maybe the mid 60s almost 20 years
old now.  He would check it out later.

   He went up to the front door, unlocked it and went in.  Out of reflex
now, he locked it behind him.  There was a large picture window next to the
door.  The curtains were still drawn it looked to be the sea-foam green of
the motel.  The walls were off white, there was a sofa also in green, sort
of a plush velvet feel to it.  Over it was another oil painting of a
seascape.  Along the same wall as the window there was a small TV on a
stand.  It faced the sofa.  In front of the sofa was a low coffee table. 
In the corner of the room was an easy chair with a floor lamp next to it.
Along a wall next to the chair was a bookcase of sorts.  It had little
knickknacks on it, one said it was from Jersey City.  There were a
collection of books in the case.

   He moved to the bedroom, the same off white.  There was an overhead
light with a fan attached to it.  The bed looked to be a queen sized.  With
another seascape over the bed.  There was a bedside table, that looked like
it came from the motel.

   There was a dresser it was a full five drawers.  On top of it were what
looked to be two old time photographs.  The first was a young man in an
antiquated suit.  Odd thing about him, he had a dimple in his chin like
Stan did.  The other photo was a rather young woman in what must have
passed as a wedding dress long ago.  But, sitting there between them was a
Yankees baseball cap.

   He looked through the drawers.  In the first were white shirts, just a
step down from a full dress shirt.  Next drawer down he found a bunch of
knit polo shirts, of all different colors.  He went through more drawers.
Undershirts and undershorts in another.  Socks in the next.  There were
some casual clothes, T-shirts, short pants, a swimsuit, and a few other
button-down short shirt sleeve shirts.

   In the final drawer was more casual wear.  Under them was a box.  It
looked like a cigar box.  Inside he saw a pair of calf's skin, black gloves
and a .45 automatic pistol like the kind he would wear when he was on
detail with the colonel.  It had a clip in it.  Stan pulled the clip out.
It was fully loaded.

   The closet had clothes hanging in it.  A couple of suits, some ties. 
Lots of dress slacks.  Along with them were black button down vests.  There
were dress shoes on the floor.  There was only one pair of sneakers and a
pair of slippers.

   He went to the bathroom.  It was the normal, a sink, toilet, bathtub
with a shower in it.  There were a couple of towel racks.  With towels
hanging in them.  There was shampoo, soap in the shower.  On the wall above
the vanity was a mirror.  Next to the sink was a straight razor and a can
of shaving cream.  There was a tube of toothpaste and a toothbrush hanging
on a cup holder with a plastic cup in the holder, it too said Jersey City
on it.

   He headed out to the kitchen.  There was a large fridge with a freezer
on top.  There wasn't anything but a box of Arm & Hammer in the fridge. 
The freezer looked like it had a decent amount of room in it.  There were
what looked like cuts of meat, wrapped in aluminum foil.  A couple of bags
of frozen vegetables.  He closed that.

   In the cabinets were dishes.  In a drawer was the flatware.  Another
cabinet were boxes of various food items.  In the cabinets below he found
pots and pans.  On the counter was a coffeemaker like in the motel.  The
sink was a double sink, with a drain board next to it.  It all looked like
a typical place.  In fact it reminded him of the apartment he grew up in
with his mother.

   There was a closet in the hall with towels, extra bathroom tissue. 
There were extra blankets and pillows like in the motel.  Even the
comforter on the bed was like the motel.

   In the other bedroom was a chair in front of a small desk.  On the wall
facing the desk was a framed photo, of Stan, it was the one taken after he
completed basic training.  He bought a package and had it sent home to his
mom.  The package had another big one like this, and a couple of smaller
ones, with some wallet sized ones.  How did Jerry get it and why?  Next to
it framed was a copy of the genealogy that his mother had worked out.  On
the other side of that was a framed photo of his mother.  It was something
he hadn't seen before.  It must have been taken after he left for the
service.  He could tell it was fairly recent.

   On the top of the desk in a small frame was a photo.  It was of a young
girl.  She couldn't be more than ten or eleven years old.  He looked at it
awhile, it seemed so familiar.  He realized it was his mother when she was
a young girl.  He'd seen that photo before.  Stan was shocked.  Where did
this come from?

   He looked through the rest of the desk.  There wasn't anything else,
just pens and pencils.  He found a file folder with notes about the motel.
There were contracts for the motel.  There were copies of some bills and
other general correspondence.  There were notes that Jerry had hand written
rather than typed copies.  But there was one curious thing in the bottom of
a drawer.  It was a bunch of postcards.  They were all the same thing, it
was Welcome to New Jersey and they all had handwritten "Wish you were here,
hope to see you soon." it was like the ones his mother used to get the day
before she would bring home a pizza from Aldolino's.

   This was all very strange.  Stan knew that Jerry Martin was really
Geraldo Marchetti.  Jerry/Geraldo was his mothers uncle.  He was the guy
that ratted out Vincenzo Gambini.  He was "Jerry the chin," the one he read
about.  Stan never knew he was related to him.  It was because Stan was
Jerry's grandnephew, that they wanted to kill him.

   But why would Jerry have a photo of him?  Because he was the last
surviving member of his family?  That wouldn't explain the photos of his
mother, especially when she was what ten or eleven?

   He went back out to the living room.  Next to the chair was that
bookcase.  He saw that there was a photo album in it.  He took it out and
sat down in the chair.  He turned on the light and began to leaf through
the photos.  He didn't know the people in them, but the backgrounds were
things he was familiar with.  It was around the parts of New York, he had
grown up.  In a couple he saw the man in the photo on the dresser.  He was
older.  Those on the dresser were obviously old photos, maybe wedding
photos.  Among the photos in the album there was a young good looking kid.
He had that same dimple in his chin, like the man in the photo on the
dresser.  There were a lot of him with other people Stan didn't know.

   It struck Stan that dimple was just like his.  He looked through more
photos.  He saw what looked like the guy as a young man.  He was dressed in
a uniform.  He could just make out a unit patch on his arm, it was of a
Statue of Liberty, the 77th Infantry Division.  Stan knew of that division.
Those guys were all from New York, mostly the city.  There were a few more
of the man with what must have been his combat buddies.  They were in a
what looked like a jungle that had been fought over.  There were more of
the same guy this time dressed very sharply.  Judging from the cars it was
the late 40s or at most the early 50s.

   Then there were a series of photos of young girls.  He looked again it
wasn't girls, it was the same girl.  She was growing up in the photos. 
Then he saw a photo that he clearly knew was his mother.  Then he looked,
there was one where she was at least seven or eight months pregnant.  The
next photo, showed what was obviously Jerry in his 40s and his mother.  She
was late term pregnancy.  Then Jerry was with his mom, and a baby.  Jerry
and Carla's smiles were positively beaming.  Stan realized that the baby
must be him.  He had that same dimple in his chin, just like Jerry.

   There was no doubt in Stan's mind, that the man was Jerry.  Did the
photos of him with his mother mean that Jerry was his dad?  He had to be,
who else would be hanging out with his pregnant mother?

   There was another photo of the same man, he was several years older.  It
hit Stan, that he was the man he saw at the Yankee's game.  He was sitting
with them.  No wonder his mom didn't want to move.  All that time he was
sitting with his dad and he didn't even know it.  He even spoke to him, not
much, but some.  He had told him that he liked his hat, and not a couple of
weeks later a hat like it came in the mail to him.  It had to have come
from his dad.  He would have been the one who got the tickets to the game.
That is why they were all together.

   He thought about what his mom said about why she couldn't marry his dad,
even after she had grown up.  She said he had a dangerous job: he was a
gangster.  She couldn't marry him, or let people know who Stan's father
was: he was her uncle.  It all made sense now.

   He continued to turn the pages of the album.  There were a few more
photos of his mom over the years.  There was one of her in front of the
orphanage with his mom holding up her high school diploma.  Standing next
to her was Stan.  Then there was another one someone else must have taken,
it was of his mom and dad together with her holding up the diploma.  The
final one was Jerry, Carla and four-year-old Stan with them.  He was
holding Stan in his arms.  He didn't remember those being taken, or the
man. But his mother did have copies of her with her diploma and her posing
with it and Stan.  Those photos Stan had seen before.

   Then he came to other photos.  They were copies of photos of him, the
kind school takes of you every year.  He could see a photo of himself from
kindergarten through high school.  He saw a couple of photos of the time
they gave performances at Rockefeller Center, and at the Carnegie Hall. 
The photos was centered on him.  There was some taken at his high school
graduation.  One was him walking across the stage.  There was one, that was
taken with Stan and Carla, they were talking together.  There were many
people around at the time.  He didn't know a photo had been taken.  There
was even one of Jerry and his mom together.  Stan could be seen in the
background turned away, not looking in their direction.  There were photos
of Jerry and Carla at both performances.  Those photos could only mean that
Jerry was there at his performances and graduation.

   He went out to the car and brought in his record albums.  He dug through
them to find the address of Dan Lewis' garage.  He got the letter he
received with the Fender.  He looked at the writing.  He went to the desk
and found some notes Jerry had made about the motel, and the postcards. 
All the writing looked the same.  They were all alike.  No wonder his mom
said something about keeping that paper, and why she sent it to him.  It
was in his dad's handwriting.  He had been watching over him all this time.


   Now Geraldo Marchetti had ceased to exist, he had become Jerry Martin.
That is why Jerry left these things to him.  His dad was leaving his
belongings to his son.  Since the people in Eldon didn't know about Geraldo
Marchetti, he thought it best that they didn't need to know about him.  He
was always Jerry Martin to them.  They also wouldn't know and didn't need
to know about the relationship between Geraldo and his mother.  That was
something that only he would know.  It did also explain why he dropped out
of sight after the trial.  That is when he went into the Witness Protection
program.

   He went out to the car and brought in his guitars and his duty bag.  The
guitars he put in the second bedroom but the duty bag in the first bedroom.
That was going to be his.  Before he could move in, he was going to have to
move his dad out.  He was going to have to get some boxes and take his
dad's stuff out of the house.

   He went back to the motel and asked, "Joe where can I get boxes?  Is
there a Goodwill or something like that around here?"

   "We get deliveries over at the restaurant all the time, I can ask them
to save some.  We don't have a Goodwill around here.  What do you want them
for?"

   "I want to move some of my dad's clothes out of his house, or should I
say my house."

   "What do you mean, your `dad'?"

   "You know, I wondered why Jerry left this to me.  I didn't know him, but
it seems he knew me.  I was going through his stuff over at the house, and
it turns out he was my dad.  I just didn't know it."

   "How could that be?"

   "It's complicated, but my parents never married.  I never knew him.  But
he knew me.  He was watching over me my whole life.  I just never knew it."

   "That sounds a bit like heavenly father, he watches over us but most
people don't know or realize it."

   "Speaking of your heavenly father I met both of your wives."

   "My wives?  What do you mean wives?  As in plural?"

   "Yeah, I talked with Ben earlier and he clued me in on your church and
about his three wives.  Jerry knew about that and I would guess about
yours. He was cool with it, so am I.  I hope you are cool with, Jerry being
my father."

   "Well what do you know?  That explains why you are the new owner, and
that dimple in your chin it is just like his...." He stopped himself, then
realized what he was going to say, "Oh, you asked, our church takes in
donations, and we provide things for those who need them.  If you would
like to make a donation, I am sure they would be happy to have whatever you
wished to give."

   "I'll have to get those boxes and I will bring the stuff by here, that
OK?  You'll take it all over to them?"

   "Yeah, sure, either Ben or I could take them over to the donation center
from here."

   "So what do you know of our church other than we have more than one
wife?"

   "Not too much, he was mostly telling me about why you need more than one
wife, and he was saying, you guys are expecting to become gods someday."

   "Well, that is part of it, but of course, there is much more to it, than
just that.  We have some young men who can come and visit you and explain
much more, if you'd like to talk with them."

   "Yeah sure, I'll talk to them, can't hurt finding out more about your
church.  But, I'm a Catholic you know."

   "Oh sure, Jerry was too.  He never joined our church, but he was always
friendly to us and our church."

   "You can go ahead and send them by, since I am living in Jerry's, I mean
my dad's, old place.  I have to get used to calling him that.  I wish I
could have done that while he was alive.  Listen, I'm going to go over and
get something to eat.  I guess tomorrow I should go grocery shopping, so I
don't eat up all my profits."

   He ate, then went back to his house, with a couple of boxes.  He was
able to clean out a couple of drawers.  He didn't have much to put in them,
anyway.  It was busy the next few days, he collected boxes and filled them
with the clothes.  Most of the rest of the things and the furniture he
would keep.  It made for a comfy home.  He put the .45 in a safe place.

   He bought food at the grocery stores.  He knew how to make simple
things. He never had to cook for himself before.  When he was a kid, his
mom did it.  When he went into the army, they did it.  Now he was going to
have to do it.  It took a little time to learn, and he did burn some
things.

   Another thing he did was look through Jerry's folders.  He had some
ideas, but he never put them into operation.  Stan also went around looking
at things, trying to see what he could improve that would make the place
better and more profitable.  He also went around and checked out the
competition to see what they were doing.  There really wasn't much that he
needed to do.  The business was in good hands, with Ben running it.

   His last pay had come through and he was able to merge his money with
the money Jerry had.  He could take money from the business as his pay. 
Not that he was doing much, but he was the owner, and the profits were his.
But he didn't have to spend much on anything.  He paid off the loan on his
car.  He didn't have any other expenses.  He did need to buy more civilian
clothes.  He couldn't be wearing his old uniforms any more.