"I’ll just look around a bit," Angie said, smiling at the two, and received two smiles in return. It was then that Angie saw the cat, sitting on items in a filled delivery box, batting at a picture on the wall to make it swing back and forth. Angie also saw that the nail holding up the picture was about to fall out of the wall, and she feared the glass in the frame would shatter if that happened. She quickly walked over to the cat and grabbed it expertly, but not before the final swipe did its job. Holding the cat with her right arm, she caught the picture with her left hand as the nail fell into the box.

"Oh, thank you," the gray haired woman said, as the red haired woman commented, "That cat!"

"You’re welcome," Angie told them, putting the picture on the counter. The cat squirmed a little, and Angie bent over to put it on the floor. The cat immediately began to rub Angie’s ankles and purr loudly, prompting Angie to bend down to pet it. The moment she did, it walked away, tail pointed high, giving it a haughty appearance as if to show it was above all that. Angie laughed, and stood straight up.

"Are you Angie?" the red haired woman asked.

"Yes," Angie confirmed, trying to remember the names she had been told had the cat. Certainly this had to be the cat they saved the scraps of fish for.

"I’m Bonita," the red haired woman told her, and the gray haired woman said, "I’m Ruby. Pleased to meet you, Angie, we heard about you last night."

"We don’t get many visitors," Bonita explained, sparing a glare for her mother in the process. "Are you enjoying your stay?"

"So far," Angie told them, and looked down at the picture she had rescued. "Greta Garbo’s autograph!" she exclaimed, and lifted it to get a better look. "Oh my, this is the real thing."

Ruby got a faraway look in her eyes as she said with a sigh in her voice, "I remember when I got it." Bonita put down her clipboard and grabbed a small chalkboard, upon which she wrote, "Mother, don’t start!" She then tapped her mother on her shoulder, but her mother ignored her.

"I had just entered the ladies room ..." and Bonita, frustrated that her taps on the shoulder were not working, stated loudly, "MOTHER!"

Ruby turned to her daughter in surprise, and Bonita showed her the chalkboard. Ruby nodded, then turned back to Angie, who had put the picture frame containing a picture of Greta Garbo and an autographed handkerchief back on the counter.

"Oh, well, anyway, thank you for catching it, Angie," Ruby told her. "So, can we help you with anything?"

"Well, I was going to buy some groceries since Callie is running low, but I see one of those boxes is for her," and Angie pointed to the one Bonita was filling.

"Callie has a standing order here," Bonita told her, then Ruby added, "As do most of the Islanders." "So we start filling the orders very early in the morning," Bonita said, and Ruby followed with, "And everyone has a scheduled time for pickup."

"I should let you get back to that, then, and just look around to see what else you have. You do have souvenirs?"

"Uh huh," Bonita confirmed, having just put her pen in her mouth as she returned to her clipboard to fill Callie’s order. Both she and Ruby pointed toward the same area of the store, where Angie could see various non-food items.

"Thanks," she said, and walked to the area, letting both ladies get back to their order filling.

There were keychains and refrigerator magnets bearing the same picture of a lighthouse on a small island, surrounded by the words "Hope Island". Angie was about to pick out a few of each when she saw coffee mugs. Grabbing one, she nearly dropped it in her surprise at seeing the words "Believe in the power of Hope" inscribed upon the mug. Turning it around, there was the same picture as the other items.

"Believe in the power of Hope," Angie said out loud, amazed to see the words from her dreams.

"Ah, you found some of Brian’s campaign mugs," Bonita said, marking off another batch of items on her clipboard.

"Which arrived after the election," Ruby added, putting cans in the box she was filling.

"Not that he needed them to win the election," Bonita added.

Angie began to grab mugs, counting them out to herself quietly. Mira, Francis, Lucinda, myself ... and she took the four mugs from the shelf, balancing them carefully in the crook of her left arm. That pretty much eliminated the stock on the shelf as well as her limited gift list, but she found herself grabbing the last mug on the shelf anyway, and stared as her hand seemed to have a will of its own.

It was a slightly larger mug than the others, and the script was larger as well, but it bore the same motto. It was dusty as well, hidden as it were at the back of the shelf. She wondered why she grabbed a fifth mug - there was no one else on her gift list, but she couldn’t convince herself to put it back. For Rollie, she decided. In hope. Nodding in submission to her subconscious motivation, she stood carefully and brought the mugs to the counter. She noticed a selection of carry bags as she walked through the aisle, so after placing the mugs on the counter she went back to the bags and found a small duffel bag with the lighthouse emblem, and took that as well. Then she saw stacks of newspapers, and took a copy of Callie’s paper, The Lookout, as well as two from the mainland. She hoped the mainland papers would have something on Loubar’s capture, while the copy of The Lookout was just to read more of Callie’s reporting.

Then, her personal shopping done, she asked Bonita, "Does Callie have coffee on her list?" Bonita checked the clipboard, and said, "Nope. That’s an item Callie usually picks up herself. Should I add it?"

"I just noticed she was out when I was going to fix some for myself. Maybe I should buy it now for her so she has it when she wakes up."

"If you don’t, she’ll be here that much sooner to pick up her groceries," Bonita replied, a twinkle in her eyes. "Don’t worry about Callie getting her coffee fix, she only drinks it when she’s working."

"Oh," Angie said, not sure what else to say. How do you argue with a clerk that doesn’t want to sell you something? It wasn’t an attitude she knew how to handle. Oh, clerks that didn’t want to wait on you, that she was familiar with. But one that was trying to tell you not to spend your money ... well, Hope Island was certainly filled with surprises.

"So, is this it?" Ruby asked, having finished her checklist and reversing it before putting it to the back of her clipboard.

"For now, I think," Angie said, figuring she would come back with Callie when her friend was ready to collect her groceries and pick up a few items at that time.

As Ruby rang up the purchases, Angie looked at the small amount of money in her wallet. "Is there an ATM nearby?" she asked, wondering if she might have to go to the mainland to get more money out of her account.

"Oh, honey, it’s at the bank at the other end of town," Ruby told her. "But you can write a check if you need to."

Angie pulled out her checkbook and wrote out the check, asking, "Who do I make it out to?"

"The General Store," Ruby told her, and at Angie’s surprise, said, "Well, that’s the name."

After she finished and presented the check, Angie automatically reached back into her wallet for her driver’s license and a major credit card, but Bonita told her, "Oh don’t worry, we trust you."

"And if your check bounces we’ll just add it to Callie’s account," Ruby added in such a matter of fact tone that Angie looked at her in surprise. Ruby kept her seriousness, so Angie figured she meant it and wasn’t teasing.

"So, shall I put these in here?" And Ruby began wrapping the mugs in brown paper, nodding at the duffel bag as she did.

"Sure," Angie replied.

"Newspapers on the top or bottom?" was Ruby’s next question.

"Bottom’s fine, I’ll read them later at Callie’s," Angie said.

"So, are you going to the dance tonight?" Bonita asked.

"Yeh," Angie said, not sure she should say any more.

"With Nub?" Ruby asked, her expression one of intense curiosity.

"Mother!" Bonita yelled, not even bothering to grab her chalkboard.

Ruby turned to her daughter and said, "That’s twice you’ve spoken to me today. Do you want the entire island thinking we’re back on speaking terms?" Bonita looked properly abashed, then said to Angie, "Mother and I don’t speak to each other."

"At all?" Angie asked, then felt ashamed at her question.

"Not for seventeen years," Ruby said proudly. "Well, except for a few days ..."

"When Daniel got us to make up," Bonita explained.

"But that didn’t work, so he arranged for us to start feuding again," Ruby stated.

"It wasn’t Daniel, it was Molly," Bonita told them both.

"Nonsense," Ruby said, then put her clipboard down to grab a large notepad under the counter.

"Anyway, we went back to not speaking to each other, which, as you can see, is much better for everyone concerned," Bonita explained.

Ruby put down the notepad without writing anything on it, and asked Angie, "So please, don’t tell anyone you heard us speak to each other, they’ll just get worried again."

Angie found it all a little strange, and almost laughable, but managed to keep a straight face as she said, "I promise not to tell. Loose lips sink ships."

Mother and daughter exchanged a meaningful glance, with Ruby’s being smug while Bonita’s was amused.

"It was good to meet both of you," Angie said, as she turned to leave, her new duffel bag stuffed with the mugs and papers. "I’ll see you both at the dance?"

"Oh yes, we’ll be there," both said in unison.

Angie waited until she was out the door and down the street before she started giggling.

A sunbeam caught her eye, and she realized that sunrise had indeed burned off the last of the fog. She also noticed that she had walked a bit away from the general store in the opposite direction than from which she came. Looking around to get her bearings, she saw a church on the top of a hill, bathed in the rays of the rising sun. Something about that beautiful sight reminded her of the lighthouse logo, so she reached into the bag and pulled out one of the mugs to compare. It was the odd sized mug she grabbed, and as she unwrapped it she was startled to see a picture of the same church upon a hill instead of the lighthouse, with the words "Hope Island Community Church" wrapped around the scene. Looking back to the church on the hill, she knew it was the same church, and the same sight that had been painted on the mug. Still, she studied the mug one last time, turning it around to check that it still bore the same words.

"Believe in the power of Hope," she read, and she heard Rollie’s voice from her dream whisper in her left ear, "Believe in the power of Hope," even as Mangela’s voice whispered the same in her right. The voices repeated themselves over and over, and they may as well have been saying, "Follow the yellow brick road," for she found herself hurrying towards the church at the urgings.

Halfway up the hill she stopped to place the mug back into the bag and catch her breath. "And if I click my heels three times and say there’s no place like home, will I wake up and find out it’s all been a very strange dream?" she asked the duffel bag, but there was no response, of course, and she smiled at her own silliness even as she resumed her walk. She did notice, however, that each time she thought to herself, "Believe in the power of Hope" the mugs clinked together, as if toasting the sentiment.

As she drew close to the church, she heard music through the opened doors. She could tell by the tone that it was a recording played on an inexpensive portable player; boombox, she thought. The piece was totally unfamiliar to her, but then a flamenco styled lead guitar line played, which she thought sounded familiar.

Her suspicions were confirmed a few beats later, when a strong tenor sang along with the distinctive voice of Mick Jagger to emote,

"All the dreams we held so close seem to all go up in smoke. I hate that sadness in your eyes. But Angie, I still love ya, baby. Everywhere I look I see your eyes. There ain’t a woman that comes close to you. Come on baby, dry your eyes."

"Rollie?" she breathed, tears coming to her eyes as she heard the sincerity in the singer’s voice. She quickly walked into the church, to see Daniel sitting on the floor behind the last pew of the left side row, brushing a viscous liquid on the back of the pew to strip off old varnish and stain. He looked up at her even as he sang,

"But Angie ... Angie ... Ain’t it good to be alive!" He rose on those last notes, putting his brush into a coffee can filled with what smelled like turpentine, as he finished the song with the Rolling Stones, "Angie, Angie ... You can’t say we never tried."