Disclaimer: Characters belong to Rshyer, Hallmark, etc, etc,  

Rating:   PG13

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Angie sighed as she dodged through the mobs of New Yorkers, as she skated to work.  ‘So starts a new week,’ she told herself.  ‘I hope this one is better than the last.’  It had been two weeks since the finishing of the production of Red Storm, the concluding events of which had ended in a nightmare.  Angie reflected on the first time she and her boss, Rollie, had encountered the terrorist Victor Loubar, the man responsible for that nightmare.  He’d tried to pull off a major weapons exchange, but had been thwarted by Rollie and Angie’s work.  It had been just another adventure for Tyler F/X then.    

The name Tyler F/X had become synonymous with catching criminals long before Loubar showed up.  Unfortunately, he was one who had managed to get away in the end.  And then he had come back.  Twice.  The first return wasn’t so bad, he’d tricked Rollie into smuggling him out of England and back to the U. S. as a federal agent—but his latest appearance….  Well, that was a visit that Angie would not soon forget, as much as she might wish to.  He had come, and torn both her world and Rollie’s world clear apart.  “Nothing’s changed,” she had told Rollie, some nights later. ‘Yeah, right,’ she thought bitterly.  ‘That was just wishful thinking.’  She had done her best throughout the past week to show that she could be just the same as before;  but as hard as she tried, there was still a strain in their relationship—something hovering in the air between them.  It didn’t help that she was angry.  Angela Ramirez had always had a temper, but this week she was more sensitive.  She had to admit, she’d come really close to snapping at many close friends this week.  She had blown up at a few people—not Rollie though, never had she said anything spiteful or unkind to him—and many of her conversations this week had been dripping with sarcasm and cynicism.  She was hurting, yet she was a survivor, just like her mother, and she would come through this; she would prevail.

Then there was Rollie.  Rollie, who loved life and living; Rollie, who was always so personable and open, now seemed withdrawn and solemn.  When Angie thought of her boss, it was his indomitable will that came to mind; his unbreakable spirit.  But reflecting on the past week, she saw a different person.  No longer confident and determined, Rollie now was confused, somewhat lost; his unbreakable spirit was broken after all.

Reaching the door to Tyler F/X, Angie paused, not quite ready to go in.  The atmosphere between them was so odd now.  And she wasn’t sure whether or not he realized it.  ‘So,’ she thought.  ‘Is this going to be how things will be?’ Are we going to let our relationship deteriorate because of some freak-show maniac who had the nerve to mess with us?  Are we going to stay strangers to each other rather than the long-time friends we’ve always been?’  Her anger flared up anew at the way Loubar’s plan seemed to be working.  He had wanted to destroy the most important thing to Rollie, he hated him so much.  And that one thing was also the most important to Angie:  their friendship with each other.  ‘He was wrong though,’ she told herself resolutely.  ‘He doesn’t know that true friends can work through anything that tries to break them…’  “Even if it’s Victor Loubar!” she said emphatically.

“It’s time for things to go back to the way they were,” she muttered softly.  “And I guess for now that’s up to me.  I told Rollie that nothing’s changed, so I think it’s time to show that; I can do that much.” Praying that she could, Angie swung the door open, and stepped inside the Loft.

“Morning Boss,” she called cheerfully, as she skated through the entry.  Spying him through the kitchen doorway she added, “If you’re already fixing stuff in there, mind bringing me some tea?  Thanks.”  The young woman stopped long enough to remove her skates and exchange them for sneakers, then proceeded to the computer where she promptly logged on to check her email account.  After replying to a few notes from various friends, she turned her attention to the studio’s account.  ‘Junk mail, spam...more junk, ooh, here’s something,’ she thought, spying a message from one of their previous contractors.  If she remembered correctly, Robert Candle had chipped in a big bonus after the last time they had helped on his set; had added that on top of an already generous paycheck.  “Go treat yourselves to a nice vacation,” he’d told them.  And Angie still remembered his friendly smile when he added, “You made this work, Tyler; I will be calling you again.”  ‘It was truth,’ Angie mused.  So many things had gone wrong on the set at the beginning that the producer had been at a complete loss.  Rollie had jumped in with his skill with tools and all his gizmos, and so with Angie’s help had ensured that the rest of the film would be finished.  In fact, they had managed to complete work a few days ahead of schedule, which had saved the company a great deal of expenses.

Without looking up from her screen, she spoke to her boss.  “Hey do you remember Robert Candle?” she asked?  Rollie looked up and nodded.  She continued.  “Well, he’s doing a new movie, one called Espionage.  It’s a space flick.  He wonders if we are available to do the effects.”

After a moment, when Rollie didn’t answer, Angie looked up to see him staring off into nowhere, still holding a plate of food and a mug of steaming liquid.  Realizing he hadn’t heard her question, she tried again.

“So can we take it?” Angie asked.  “They’ll need us middle of next week.  He knows it’s kinda short notice, but he had some hassles with the other company he was checking with.  Newbies in the effects business, y’know, Candle wanted to try them out, give them a chance, but it turns out they don’t have a clue.  He wants to know if we can possibly fit it into our schedule…that kind of request always promises a bonus, especially since it’s him.  How ‘bout it, Rol?  We both got bills to pay…”

“I don’t know Ange,” Rollie answered.  “I’m not sure I’m up to the work just yet.”

“What kind of reply is that?” the blonde demanded.  “We can’t start refusing clients now; we don’t have a wait-list to fall back on.  I’ll tell him we’ll do it.  You’ll be feeling better by next week anyway.”

Rollie responded with an exasperated sigh.  He set down Angie’s requested cup of tea and then sank into the nearest chair with his food. 

Finished with her email tasks, Angie stood up and stretched.  Then turning, she located the pile of stuff she’d been organizing the week before into a large cabinet, recently purchased for that purpose.  She began sorting once again.

“These things are really good for all of our stuff,” she told her boss. “If you get a chance, you should get a couple more.  They’re really efficient, and I like how there are so many different compartments of all sizes.”  Rollie just grunted.  They remained silent for another few minutes before Angie tried another conversation tactic.  “So have you spoken with Lucinda recently?  I don’t think I’ve heard from her myself for a while now.”

“Huh-uh,” Rollie answered with a shake of his head.

“What about your dad?”

“What do you think?”

“Any idea what Elena is up to these days?”

“NO.  Look, Ange, what is this, twenty questions?” he demanded testily.

“Sor-ry,” she said, raising her arms in surrender.  “I was just trying to start a conversation.”

“Maybe some of us don’t feel like conversing.”

Again silence descended on the Loft, broken occasionally by Angie’s work.  Rollie finished his breakfast and took his dishes to the kitchen.  He then picked up a contraption they had used in an earlier movie and began to make some adjustments to it.  Angie soon had all the equipment pieces sorted and placed in the cabinet, at least as many as would fit.  She put the rest back into other boxes where they had been before, and headed up to her clean room to work on some computer graphics for an independent project.  Slowly the hours passed.  After a while Angie came back out, finding Rollie now building some attachment pieces for a new hydraulic lift.

“Hey Rollie,” she began.

“What now,” he exclaimed, cutting her off.  “Is it too much to ask for just a little quiet?”

“I just wanted you to know,” she replied, her own tone taking on a slightly impatient quality.  “That I’m going to grab some lunch, and if you’d like, I’ll pick something up for you too.”

“Not hungry,” he said, turning back to his work.

“Fine then, I’ll pick up a sandwich and you can eat it later.”

“Yes, Mother,” said Rollie.

Half an hour passed before Angie returned, lunch in hand.  Having forgotten the ‘No talking’ rule, she said:  “Wow, the line at Subway was so long!  I thought I’d never get out of there.  I’m gonna leave your sandwich in the fridge, kay?”

“That’s nice, Angie, now do you think you can stop chattering for just a little while?”

Angie put her hands on her hips.  “You really should cheer up,” she told him.  “You’re starting to sound like a grouch.”

“Look,” Rollie said, swiveling around in his chair to face her.  There was a look of definite irritation on his face.  “It’s really great that you’re in such a good mood, but I’ve really had a bad couple of weeks, alright?”  Rollie suddenly stood up, shoving his chair back.  He strode over to the door and grabbed his jacket.  “You know what?  It doesn’t matter.  Chatter up a storm. Blue will keep you company.  I’m going to find somewhere that I’ll be left alone.”  On that note, Rollie yanked the door open and stalked out, letting it swing shut behind him and leaving Angie to stand looking after him in silent agony. 

As Rollie trudged away from the loft, he berated himself for his behavior toward Angie.  She hadn’t deserved him lashing out.  Why had he blown up like that?  She hadn’t meant any harm; in fact she was probably just trying to make the best of things.  And it wasn’t as though she’d had any better experience the last few weeks either, maybe worse in some ways.  But so much had changed.  Even though he was free and his name and been cleared, Rollie knew that a significant blow had been dealt to his reputation.  There would always be a few who would hear about the story and not check on its validity.  Add to that the fact that Rollie himself had been kidnapped, and put through mental anguish.  Then there was the remaining thread in that they had no idea wheat had finally happened to Him.  Rollie was suspected that he would be looking over his shoulder for the duration of his life, waiting fro him to strike again.  Mira had said he probably hadn’t survived and was somewhere at the bottom of the lake now.  But until someone showed him physical proof of his death, Rollie wouldn’t believe it.  But then, he doubted that they could find that proof.  This wasn’t the kind of thing which would stop a monster as clever and resilient as him.  ‘And what about Angie,’ he asked himself.  The real problem with that question was that Angie was another aspect of the problem as well.  Rollie had no idea how to act around her now.  Not after what he had done to her.   He’d tricked her, seduced her really.  But not as himself…she had believed he was Rollie.  So even she had been deceived by his impersonation of the effects artist.  And part of Rollie was hurt that she hadn’t recognized the imposter.  She as his closest friend hadn’t known him enough to see a fake.  But another part of Rollie was also hurting for her, for what he’d done.  There was even another part of him which held a different view; that part was still very much shocked in the revelation of what it really meant, what her actions meant about her feelings for Rollie.  ‘How could she be in love with me?’ he wondered.  To Rollie, Angie was his friend, his assistant, his kid sister even, but not a lover.  He’d seen her grow up and wasn’t sure he could separate that in his mind of his perception of her.  He knew when she had been younger she’d had a bit of a crush—well maybe a big crush—on him, but he’d been sure that she’d gotten over that a long time ago.  He never dreamed that she still had feelings like that for him.

So what did he do now?  He was sure he’d never return her affection that way.  He was somewhat angry at her for that too, he realized.  He didn’t want her to love him, he just wanted things normal between them; he wanted them back the way they had been—or rather, how he’d thought they had been.  Theirs had always been a unique and special relationship.  They had been deeply close, but not romantic, and he had liked it that way.  He had always believed that Angie felt the same way.  ‘Apparently not,’ he thought.  So he wondered again how he was supposed to act, what he was supposed to do.

Spying an outdoor restaurant across the street, Rollie thought with chagrin about how he’d snapped at Angie about the food.  What was wrong with hi m?  She was just trying to be helpful.  It hadn’t been necessary to bite her head off.  Logically, Rollie knew that she really wasn’t to blame for anything, but he still couldn’t seem to act naturally around her anymore.  ‘I’ll apologize when I get back,’ he decided.  ‘And thank her for the sandwich.  But first I’d better take some time to cool off, have a drink.’ With that, Rollie walked across to the restaurant’s open bar. 

There weren’t many people at the bar, understandably considering it was still afternoon.  One middle aged couple was laughing over their beverages.  An ancient looking man was hunched over his drink, muttering to himself.  The only other patron was an attractive young woman with curly red hair.  She was chatting on a cell phone, her marguerita glass virtually untouched.  Rollie made his way between the dining area tables, many of which were also empty, the lunch rush past.  Seating himself on one of the empty stools, he ordered a beer and sat back to survey the activity around him.  The couple at the far end had been joined by another woman.  He now noticed the similarity in their clothing, and so surmised that they must actually be coworkers either taking a break or unwinding after a shift.  The old man was still in a fixed state of stupor.  The young woman was now off the phone and sipping delicately on her straw.  She glanced over and caught his gaze, then winked at him and flashed a smile in his direction.  Blushing, Rollie turned back to the barkeep who was handing over his drink. 

Only a minute passed before Rollie realized that the woman had moved to the stool beside him.  She smelled faintly like some kind of flower, though Rollie couldn’t have deciphered which one.  Rollie kept his attention on his beer.  He was hoping that by doing so she would take the hint and leave well enough alone.  Such was not the case.

“You look like you’re having a bit of a day,” she said.  Her voice was silky but not husky; calming almost.  Despite that, he bristled at the intrusion. 

“Yeah, you might say that,” he said, taking a sip and keeping his eyes on the back wall.  He didn’t want to look at her, if he did he’d have to be polite, and she’d want to talk more.  Rollie didn’t want to talk.  Not to Angie, not to this strange—though beautiful—woman, not to anybody.  “Goes back farther than a day though,” he muttered softly.

“How far?” she pressed.

“Aways,” Rollie hadn’t meant for her to hear the last comment.

“Hmmm,” she murmured.  “Could you use a break from it?”

“A break?” Rollie asked.  He turned to face her, a puzzled look on his face.  “From what exactly?”

“Whatever is stressing you out,” she explained.  “Life in general…just, a break.”  When his blank expression didn’t alter, she elaborated:  “I was going this evening to a barn party with a friend of mine, but he had to cut out because of some work thing.  I could go by myself, but it’s always so much better to have someone to share the experience with.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I think I’ll pass this time.”  Having finished his drink, Rollie stood up.  Dropping the cash on the bar he began turning toward the street when she spoke again.

“Ok,” she said with a shrug.  “”Hope your week improves then.”  She raised her glass in salutation.

“Thanks, you have a good week as well,” he told her.  He was glad she hadn’t pushed him, women who did—and he’d met a few—were extremely annoying.  At least he was feeling a little better.  The time away had done him good.  Though he wasn’t interested in the woman, he actually thought her idea wasn’t bad.  As he walked back to the brewery, he thought again on the suggestion she’d made.  To take a break might not be so bad, he realized.  It might be just what he needed.  Not a long vacation of course, Angie was right about them needing to get back to work, but a weekend set apart from all things work related was really starting to have a certain appeal.  These thoughts in mind, Rollie returned to the Loft.

It was about 3:20 in the afternoon when Rollie arrived back at the studio. Angie was deeply engrossed in some paperwork. Looking over her shoulder he saw that she was figuring out their expenses and cost sheets from the month before. This was one of many things she was really good at. During periods of little work she managed to scrape out something to keep them going. Angie raised her head when he first came over, but remained silent, soon returning to the work.

"What would I do without you?" he murmured. It wasn't really a question. Angie looked up, but still didn't say anything. "I'm sorry about before," he continued. "I was-unreasonable." He paused to look at her face, which was blank. "And thank you for lunch. I really appreciate you going to the trouble of picking up something for me."

Slowly Angie's expression relaxed and she allowed a small smile. "Its ok Rollie, I shouldn't have kept bugging you."

"No," he disagreed. "I was testy when I shouldn't have been, but I'm alright now. Where'd you say my sandwich was anyway? I think I'd like it now if you don't mind…" Rollie's stomach gurgled, proof that he really did want it. "See?" he said with a grin. Angie's face cracked into a lop-sided grin, and at last they both laughed.

"So did Robbie send us a script and a list of effects that he definitely wants?" Rollie asked after he'd finished his lunch.

"He emailed me a message with the summary and a short outline of one scene for us to review and get started on, but he was waiting for verification before he Fed-Exed the rest. We'll get the hard copies tomorrow.

"Alright then, what about the summary? Why don't you tell me about it?"

"Ok," Angie agreed. "First off, it's based off the book Espionage by Sonja Rachelle Wheeler. The story revolves primarily around this mega advanced spy-ship-Espionage, and her captain, Ciasora Drenn. It goes around-you know, why don't I just read you the description?" The blonde looked over at him questioningly.

"Sure, that sounds reasonable," answered Rollie. "Read away."

"Ok, here it is: 'Ciasora Drenn wanted to work out in space, but never imagined that she would become the captain of an advanced star ship. Now it is her responsibility to gather a functioning crew. But her time is limited, 'cause this ship has secrets. And enemies who will stop at nothing to discover them.'"

"That's it?" he asked. "I was expecting a little more to it."

"Well, that's what they put on the description, the space that they have on the back of video boxes is rather limited." Angie smirked. "But you have to admit, it does make a person curious."

"Well, that's true," the Australian commented. "Have you read the book itself?"

"No," she answered. "But I might if the movie doesn't bore me of it by the end." Angie spoke playfully, but Rollie knew exactly how she felt. Some movies were so well written and directed that time flew by and they kept copies for themselves to watch again and again. Others were not carried to completion with the same finesse that they began with and weren't as important to the F/X crew. Then were the Others; those fit only for a trash bin by Rollie's opinion. They tended to be bad from the start, dragging along frame by frame. When at last they were over, the F/X artists had had enough and would prefer slow torture to seeing anything related to that movie again.

"Well, knowing Rob, that's not likely to be too big a problem," he said.

"You were the big hero of that film though, remember?" she pointed out with a smirk. "So your judgment is kind of skewed."

"You mock me!" he threw back at her, a touch of the old humor returning. "Admit it, you like Minstrels or Mistresses of Mayhem as much as I did."

"Of course," she laughed. "Why do you think I asked you to agree to this one in the first place?"

"You mean, you agreed to it for me. You barely gave me a choice." His stern look caught her and she sobered quickly, a somewhat worried look crossing her face. Rollie grinned playfully. "Good that you did, Luv, at least one of us is keeping our head together."

Relieved, Angie smiled back. "And don't you ever forget who's really the brains in this operation," she said.

"I doubt you'll let me," said Rollie.

The two worked in companionable silence for a few minutes, then Rollie spoke up again.

"Hey, just so you know: I'm going to take off this weekend for a while, so if you want to work this weekend you'll end up doing so by yourself."

"Really?" Angie responded. "Where to? Anywhere I'd like to go?"

"Uh," Rollie paused, not sure how to explain. "Well, I was actually thinking I'd just go, um, by myself."

"Oh." Angie looked away for a moment then back to Rollie and asked with a trembling voice, "Are we going to be ok Rollie?"

Sighing, Rollie realized that they had to talk about it. Much as he'd like not to, it was time to discuss what had happened, and how they each felt.

"Angie look," he began. "I care a lot about you, a lot. But I can't-I don't feel towards you any-I-we're just friends, you and I…do you see?" He hoped desperately that she'd be able to understand what he meant. "Well, no, not just friends…more than friends, but not that kind of more than friends."

"I know Rollie, I know," Angie said softly. "I knew then too, I guess." She rolled her eyes slightly. "Guess there's one more argument for the temperance group. We don't have to be anything like that for me, Rollie. I'm content with how things were before. I-never, never-," she paused as her voice cracked. She looked away again, her bright blue eyes shimmering with moisture. "I never would have said anything, 'cause I didn't want to change that. I can't change the way I feel, but I don't want that to make it strange for us. I can live with knowing you don't-love me the same way, but I can't handle us being strangers."

"Angie I'm-" Rollie started, but Angie cut him off.

"Don't. Don't say you're sorry Rollie," she looked at him warningly. "You can't decide to feel one way just because I do, and if you have to be sorry for not feeling what I feel then it means I have to feel sorry for feeling what I do feel, and we can't start putting requirements on feelings."

Rollie nodded slowly. Put like that it made total sense. A feeling of great relief came over him as he realized there was no pressure; he could just be himself. Reassured, he turned his face to look directly into Angie's.

"Then in answer to your question, yes, we're going to be ok. Though I think we could do to each find some space occasionally."

"Yeah, I guess we do need other interests besides F/X," she replied. "Maybe I'll go rock climbing this weekend."

"That sounds like a great idea; it's been a while since you did that hasn't it?"

"Yeah it has," she affirmed. "The more I think about it though, the more the idea appeals to me. I really think I'd like to do that."

Turning back to her computer she reflected on their conversation. Angie smiled at the prospect of climbing again. She'd have to see if some of her buddies were doing anything this weekend. Otherwise she'd just go by herself, but it would be nice to find out. She realized she felt a lot better now that everything was clear between her and Rollie. It was true that she was content with the relationship they already had. Their friendship was irreplaceable, and something that few other people could ever share. Of course, she wouldn't mind sharing something more special between them, but she had been in love before, perhaps not so strongly, but time was supposed to help; she'd get over it, or at least beyond it. She was happy enough with that.

Rollie's thoughts turned to what he wanted to do this weekend. It should be something totally unrelated to movies and effects, he decided, so going to a Broadway show was out. He knew that if he went, he'd spend more time guessing how they were doing the effects and stunts than paying attention to the storyline. So what then? Rollie didn't have too many hobbies, and most of the ones he had were all related somehow to his career. He began looking online at lists of hobbies. Something outdoors would be nice-he'd always enjoyed camping, but he was still physically recovering, his arm in particular was extremely weak, and the muscles around where he'd been shot still sent fire through him when he moved certain ways. He'd never really done much with crafts, so going to a craft show wouldn't be that interesting. He couldn't knit or sew, so something related to needlework was out. Gardening…no, finding an adequate location in New York for everything he'd want to do would be pretty difficult. He sighed, this wasn't going anywhere. Standing up he decided to get the mail, frustrated that there seemed to be so little that he could find of interest.

He retrieved the mail and began perusing through the various letters. "Junk, bill, junk, junk...," he trailed off and Angie interrupted.

"You sound just like I did this morning with the email, Boss," she said with a laugh. "Sorting out all the useless stuff can be a real drag don't you think?"

"Yeah," he said chuckling, then something caught his eye. He set the rest of the mail down and looked closely at the flyer.

"What did you find," asked Angie, standing up to see what he was looking at.

"It's an ad for volunteers for a convention this weekend," he told her, holding the paper so she could see. "Volunteers Wanted, for set up and take down, also for assisting the children." He finished reading aloud and looked at her. "It's a weekend activity camp for cancer kids, Luv."

"Sounds like just the thing for you," said Angie, her expression full of warmth. "Well, you'd better give them a call to see what you can sign up for."

Rollie agreed and was soon making arrangements. He'd found the perfect solution to his weekend dilemma.

Angie returned to her apartment late that night, having taken some extra time to go shopping for a few items she'd need for the weekend's adventure. Unlatching the door she entered, pausing go scoop up Chiops as he greeted her, wrapping a twining himself between her legs.

"Alright I get it, you need food," she said to him as she stroked his fur. The cat purred contentedly. She deposited the cat onto the kitchen floor and the grocery bag on the countertop then pulled out the dry cat food contained in the cupboard beneath it. Chiops mewed expectantly and watched as she poured out a large quantity. Angie watched the cat eat for a moment, then on impulse withdrew a can of meat and opened it, adding some of its contents to the cat's meal. He dug into the soft food with relish, it was a treat for him to get the canned goods.

Turning away from the cat, she put away the bought items and tried to decide whether she was interested in finding something to eat for herself. Finally settling on some toast and some fruit, she found herself wishing Rollie were around. She'd have had more motive to cook anyway. It doesn't matter, she told herself. We're still good friends, and that's all that's important. Settling on the couch, she decided it was better that way; Rollie and she wouldn't be a good couple anyway. It would interfere with their work. They might fight. It wouldn't have lasted long. Besides, they were completely different from each other. She was hot-tempered and stubborn, he was charming and sweet and nice…and also stubborn. Hey, we're closer than friends, that's what really matters, she thought again. So why was her heart still aching, why did she feel like she'd just lost part of herself?

Chiops jumped up to her lap, having finished his meal. He rubbed his chin against her hand; his throat beginning a gentle rumble as she absently petted him. Angie looked at her pet, but her vision blurred. "Why can't he love me?" she demanded. Her voice caught and she buried her face into the soft fur of her cat, who felt the distress of his mistress and tried to add his own comfort. "It's not like I could love anyone else," she whispered. Then Angie, ever the strong one, rock solid in her control of emotions finally broke down, sobbing for her broken heart into the quiet of her apartment, with only her furry companion to offer comfort.

The darkness shifted and a figure paused. How far have I gone, she asked silently. It feels like I've been wandering for days…Something splashed behind her, making her jump. Steady now, calm down, they aren't looking for you here. They've got to keep following the other lead…She hoped. She'd have to climb out of the sewers soon; a body could survive on water alone for only so long. Aside from that, her leg was surely infected by now. It already hurt intensely from the wound she'd received in the explosion. Besides, she needed help if she was ever to get away from them. But will he? She wondered. After all the trouble I've caused, will he even care? He might not even believe me, she realized miserably. I wish…nevermind. It doesn't matter now. This is the only way. Casting her troubled thoughts aside, the woman slogged on.

The rest of the week was a busy one, as the two F/X artists readied for the upcoming filmwork, and each also finishing up their weekend plans. Angie found two of her friends who were interested in a weekend trip, so they made plans together; they decided who would bring which supplies and equipment. Rollie spent a great deal of time on the phone, deciding what he could do that wouldn't tax him physically, but would still keep him involved in the activities.

By Thursday, after all the questions had been asked, papers had been signed and business at the loft was wrapped up, Rollie was ready to get going. He packed up a few bits of equipment into his pick-up along with the things he'd need while away. Finally he turned to Angie, who was re-lacing her skates.

"Well, it's expected to be pretty clear this weekend," the Aussie commented. "You're headed for The Gunks, right?"

"Uh-huh," she affirmed. "Clear tomorrow, its supposed to be a little cloudy Saturday morning, but no rain." She'd gone to The Gunks before, so she was already familiar with the site. Angie and her friends would be heading out early Friday morning, driving as far in as they could, then backpack the rest of the way with the climbing equipment to their desired location and set up camp. Once they were settled, they could do some climbing. It was a really good location, with many different options of where to climb. In addition there were trails for hiking, walking and mountain biking. This was a considerable amount of variety, and all less than two hours from New York City.

"Sounds good to me, you'll enjoy it I'm sure," Rollie said. He paused for a moment then added, "Well, have a great weekend, Ange. It's supposed to be clear where I'm going too, but I'll mostly be inside and won't notice-but then I'll have other things to keep my mind occupied." He turned back to the truck, missing the wistful glance that flitted briefly across her face.

"Yeah, you have a good weekend too, boss," she told him. She quickly turned away and glided out onto the sidewalk, determined to remain in control.

Rollie did a last check to reassure that he had everything, and then got into the truck. He drove east onto the Long Island expressway, noting the changes in scenery as he went from city to suburb, then back to city again as he arrived in Gotham, where the camp was to take place. The leading sponsor for the camp was a businesswoman from there, a lady by the name of Veronica Vreeland. The city itself was on the Sound side of Long Island, with Hampton Harbor on one side, and framed by Lattington and Glen Cove on the other two edges. The tall buildings of Gotham were a marked contrast to the more rural feel of the latter town as he'd driven through. It was about 2 o'clock in the afternoon when he arrived at the convention center where the camp would be taking place.

Setup for the activities was already underway, but Rollie quickly jumped in to help where he could, his injured arm only hampering a little as he assisted the rest of the volunteer crew. It took the rest of the afternoon for all the work to be completed, but at last the convention center was ready, with various booths and stations set up for the kids. There were medical stations at regular intervals as well, where nurses would be ready, just in case of an emergency. The children would be arriving soon, along with the staff from the hospital. Rollie turned to his supervisor to check what else needed to be done.

"Well Rollie, I don't think there's much left now," Claire Simmons answered. "Why don't you look around a bit before they get here so you can familiarize yourself with the areas that you aren't going to be directly involved in? Orientation for all the volunteers will take place this evening and tomorrow morning"

"Works for me," he answered with a grin.

The convention center was a formidable complex, with four buildings connected by breezeways, on the first and fourth floors. The camp was only using one of the buildings, leaving the rest free for other conferences. Their building of choice was situated next to a small park, which the directors would be utilizing when needed for a few outdoor activities. Within the building, only two floors were used for the actual activity stations; upper three would remain empty for the duration of the weekend.

Rollie strolled away from his station one of three booths dedicated to arts and crafts. He had spent some time deciding on the perfect task, something creative and interesting, but desiring something a little different than the usual gadgets and magic he usually did; he could have done either, since they had a magic trick booth and a robotics station. He passed by these as he surveyed the room, the latter reminding him of Blue, who was stowed in the cab of the truck. Rollie wasn't sure what had possessed him to bring the robot, since he was going to be working with sequins, pipe-cleaners and glue, but impulse had driven him to pick up the little bugger and so it was there as well. Maybe I'll loan him to these guys here, he mused. The little ones might get a kick out of him. Resolving to bring his "pet" inside when he had the chance, Rollie continued walking.

In another room of the second floor he found the computer lab, where some technicians were busily connecting wires. Rollie knew from the paperwork he'd looked at and sequential talks with the planners that they were going to have some games, some programming, and some minor graphic imaging. I bet Angie would have loved helping out with this, Rollie thought with a grin and a small twinge of guilt, she might have come if not for his request…but there was no sense on dwelling on that now.

After thoroughly inspecting the second floor areas, Rollie made his way downstairs to look at what was being done on the floor below. What he found was an atmosphere quite different from the one upstairs. Rather than a peaceful, school-type feel, the place brimmed with action. A lot of special accommodations had been made for the activities that would take place on the first floor, since many of them would normally take place outdoors. Among them Rollie found the petting zoo, where he discovered the archery range, and right in the center, was a climbing hill for the youngsters to scale.

The rock climbing setup and gear again brought Angie to his mind. He hoped she was enjoying her trip to The Gunks. Placing these thoughts in another corner of his mind, Rollie walked outside to see the remaining stations. There were three. Canoeing and swimming would take place in the pool, while the picnic area had been rearranged to reflect a campfire atmosphere. They would be holding some of the ceremonial programs for announcements, introductions, and awards. When he was satisfied with his survey of the place, Rollie made his way back to the second floor to check with Claire on the evening's schedule.

"This evening is the meeting for the general rules that must be followed by all the volunteers," she told him. "The program director will also be passing out the weekend schedule. It will tell you when you need to be here at the booth. Tomorrow morning we'll have the emergency planning and drills, so everyone will know what to do in the case of one of the kids having a medical emergency. Meeting starts at 7:30, so you've got about 25 minutes of free time until then. I don't have anything for you, unless you want to cut animal ears, feet, and tails out of felts for me." She added the last part with a twinkle, and Rollie chuckled.

"Thanks, Claire," he answered. "There's something I'd like to get from my truck if you don't mind."

"Not at all," she replied.

Rollie retrieved Blue from the pick-up and carried him back to the robotics station. The techs there were delighted with the little robot, and assured Rollie they'd take good care of him. After giving directions and demonstration of a few of Blue's commands, Rollie added the supervisor to Blue's voice recognition database, so he could give instructions, at least to a limited extent. Pleased, Rollie followed the others to the meeting hall for orientation.

Rollie found a seat in the crowded room and turned his attention to the front. A red haired woman was stepping up to the front; he'd cut it a little close for time. No worries though, at least I made it. She was a pleasant looking woman, slender with bright red hair that came to just below her shoulders. She smiled at the gathered volunteers, her perfect white teeth almost gleaming. She was a very polished figure and Rollie found himself wondering who she was. She began by introducing herself, clearing up that little mystery.

"Welcome, all of you," she began. "I'm Veronica Vreeland, and I want to specially thank each one of you for investing your time in this special outreach for these very special children. I believe that children are the most important part of our future, and I want to be sure to take special care of all these precious little ones. I'm sure you all agree that this is going to be a special weekend for them, but I'm here to let you know that it will also be a special weekend for all of you as well. There will be many precious moments shared and special friendships formed."

Rollie rolled his eyes. Little bit of overkill with the word 'special,' he thought. There are other words she could use…He imagined Angie making faces at the other lady, and he almost laughed aloud.

Veronica continued. "I'd like to know, how many of you ever went to summer camp or camping with your family as children?" she asked. Several raised their hands. "Well, it was a special experience, wasn't it?" Several affirmations were heard and she beamed at her audience. "A program was started not too long ago that made arrangements for sick kids to be able to go to one of those camps. Sadly, there are many children who were too sick to go to those. This project was the solution to that, as we aim to bring camp to those special children from Gotham City Children's Hospital who couldn't otherwise get the experience. It's a bit of an experiment for us, as something like this is relatively unprecedented, however, I'm sure that all of you will make this a workable experience whose success will become a tradition, one that will give these children a spark of fun that they will remember for the rest of their precious lives." The listeners applauded and she smiled again.

"Now then, since you know what the idea is, I'd like to hand the floor over to our director so you can get all the details of how to make this the most special experience for all. Volunteers, let me present Doctor Lowell Henderson, the man behind the project, who has all kinds of experience, not only with working with cancer patients, but who is also familiar with what helps children the most when they are going through the trials of this awful disease."

Veronica stepped away and a middle-aged man took her place in front. "Good evening, volunteers," he said with a friendly smile. "Thanks for coming to help, these kids are the greatest you know. Now then, lets start talking about what's happening. If you'll look under your seat you'll find a binder; that has all the information and rules in hard copy form. It is yours for the weekend, to refer to if you need something, I want them back Sunday night."

The director began describing how the camp was to be carried out, outlining where each person's responsibilities lay. The children would be grouped together in parties of four to six, with a counselor and a nurse to accompany each party full time. Rollie would have liked to be a counselor, so he could interact more closely with the children, but the screening and additional training took longer, and had to be done much further in advance. The party members would be dining and spending off-schedule time together. Three parties together composed a team, which would be given a name. That team would go together to activity stations and would work together for points. Points would be earned from behavior, teamwork and goals accomplished. At the close of camp Sunday night, the points would be tallied and prizes given. Rollie hoped there would be prizes for all the children so none felt left out.

The director continued for a while, outlining dos and don'ts, and gave a severe admonishment to anyone who tried to take advantage of the children. "My advice," he warned them, "is to avoid any and all behavior that could be construed as abuse: physical, emotional or otherwise." There was a glint in the doctor's eyes that showed that he was serious, and Rollie knew that anyone trying something would receive a full whiplash of the doctor's fury; he loved these kids and no one would get away with hurting them, not on his watch. Rollie couldn't have agreed more; these youngsters had been through enough already.

At last Dr. Henderson was finished outlining the rules and organization he introduced the program coordinator, Doctor Leslie Thompkins. She had schedules passed out and proceeded to explain how they could be read, counselors could find the names of their team and follow the table through the morning and evening rotations, stationmasters-as the other volunteers were called-could follow the rotation schedules to see what teams would be visiting them at what times. The schedule also listed the times for meals-held in the convention center's food plaza or at the picnic area outside-and listed the times for assemblies-those programs when all teams met together.

Rollie looked over his schedule. There would be three rotations each afternoon, two each morning, beginning Friday at 2:30 p.m. Each rotation was an hour and twenty minutes long, with ten minutes between them. The first three teams at his station were Geode, Limonite, then Beryl. He wondered at the names. He was sure they were rocks of some kind. It was a good bet Angie would be familiar with what they were, he'd have to wait and ask her on Monday. "Supper at seven," he muttered to himself. "Then the evening program at eight-thirty…Oh, Saturday is different starting at the third rotation… I wonder why?"

"Now that you've all had a chance to review the schedule," Dr. Thompkins voice interrupted Rollie's wonderings. "I'll give a few specifics on the items which aren't quite clear. I think everyone pretty much understands how the rotations work, yes? But the evening programs will be bit different. Friday night especially, because we want your help on what the program will be." Odd, Rollie thought. Don't they know what they're doing already?

"Friday night we will all gather around the picnic area in the park for some campfire songs," Dr. Thompkins continued. "Though there will not be a real campfire because we don't have someone qualified to handle one as things are here. Then we will divide the children into two groups and they will go one of two outpost stations. The outposts will be Cowboy Camp and Indian Camp, named for their respective themes. At these outposts there will be games and a short skit related to the theme of that outpost. Together they will take up no more than 30 minutes, because we'll have the children switch and go to the other outpost. I'll divide you into two groups, and you'll be assigned to either Cowboy or Indian Camp. All the people in the group will be responsible for coming up with some game and making up a skit to go along with it. This is a chance for each of you to get your creativity working, and for you to participate in the planning. I think you will enjoy it.

"Now, before I divide you, I want to explain Saturday's evening program. It actually will not be a program put on by us, the plan is to distribute the parties into squads. This is the only day when party members may be separated, the reason being, we are taking the kid's into New York City for a night on the town, and there will be a few who, for health reasons, will be unable to go. Though we'll need most of you to help with the city tour, some of you will be remaining here with them and a special program will be presented so they don't feel completely left out. Those going can expect to load into the vans at 5:00 Saturday evening. This is the reason for the afternoon schedule bumped up half an hour, and the shorter lunch hour. The kids will be getting the royal carpet treatment, both those who go to New York and those who remain here.

"Well, that's all I have for you for the schedules except to determine where you will be for outpost and town night, town night first. Is there anyone who doesn't mind staying here?"

I've seen my share of the city, may as well let someone else have the privilege, thought Rollie. He raised his hand. The doctor nodded looked around quickly, counting the number of hands. She smiled. "Well, great, thank you all for your willingness," she said. "But since there are only 28 children who are staying, there's no need for all of you to remain behind. There's going to be a few counselors and nurses as well, so…how about the two of you," she indicated a couple to Rollie's left. "You," now she was looking right at him. "And you three." More than enough for this job I think, but that can't hurt anything. We'll be talking tomorrow morning about the details.

"Now then, Outpost." She paused thoughtfully. "Let's make this simple. This half of the room," she motioned to her right. "You'll create Cowboy Camp. Which leaves the rest of you for Indian Camp. That's all, get together now and begin plotting for them. If you have questions, come talk to either Dr. Henderson or myself. Good luck!"

Dr. Thompkins stepped away and Rollie stood, as did the other volunteers. They all began clustering together to discuss their ideas. He wondered as he joined the Indian Camp team what Angie would think of all of this. He was growing quite excited himself; he could hardly wait for the children's arrival.

Rollie woke up Friday morning with excitement buzzing in his head. The kids were coming today! Now if he could just patiently get through all the morning meetings, he'd be fine. Angie would laugh at his anticipation, but he couldn't help feeling that today was just going to be a great experience. He wondered what she was doing at the moment. Glancing at the clock beside his hotel bed, he figured she was probably either loading up the vehicle she and her friends were taking or on the road already. When it came to her rock climbing trips, Angie was quite the early riser, and it was nearly eight o'clock already. Jumping out of bed, he grabbed some clothes and headed for the bathroom for a shower. He had an hour to get to the next meeting, so he hadn't much time to lose.

He arrived at the convention center a few minutes before the meeting actually started, sitting with some of the volunteers in his outpost group. Caleb, an engineer from a local company, waved a greeting to the Aussie. "Hey, come on over Rollie," he said.

"Hey, mates," Rollie replied. He grinned at Lucy and David, two of his other friends who'd added their greeting. They sat together through all the emergency procedures, leafing through the handbook as needed. Rollie was glad that so much was going into the works to ensure that the whole weekend was a safe, enjoyable for the children who would be there. In addition to the nurse who would be with each group, there were a number of them who would be on duty at all times in case of an emergency. Four doctors would be rotating through a watch schedule with one at the center and the other three on call.

In the event of a medical emergency, the volunteers would make sure the medical staff was able to get to the afflicted child. The nurses and doctors first priority would be to get the victim to the aid station immediately, and if necessary on to the hospital, which was located just down the road. While they attended to that, the rest of the staff would make sure the rest of the children were safe. Once the situation was under control camp was to resume as normal as much as possible, unless the children were too stressed and needed to rest for a while.

Rollie paid close attention to all the descriptions of possible maladies and the symptoms to look for. Though there were professionals, it was important for everyone to be on the alert. He continued to listen as Dr. Henderson explained evacuation procedures in case of fire then other safety issues that they considered possibilities. Just as long as my attraction for bad guys doesn't kick in, I think everything will be fine, assuming my presence didn't jinx it already… But Rollie was confident that there would be no problems, after all, his troubles tended to stay in Manhattan. Angie'd tease me about being paranoid for thinking that if she knew, he mused.

At last the lectures were over and the crew was told to practice their outposts to get them to perfection, ready for that night's performance. They would meet back after lunch to see the final result of each of the other team's hard work. Rollie was quite proud of the skit they'd come up with for their part, and despite the fact that he had gone here to avoid production type stuff, he found that he couldn't resist using some of his equipment to spice up the effects a little. The rest of the volunteers had been delighted. They practiced as much as they could until finally they had it down completely. Confidant, the team broke for lunch and awaited their chance to put on the show.

Rollie enjoyed watching the other outpost skit. The heroes were a trio of volunteers dressed as kids exploring a deserted town in the west. To their astonishment, the place turned out to be haunted by several ghosts, all determined to run the "interlopers" out of their haunt. To his bemusement they'd taken some of the harnesses and ropes from the rock-climbing wall and arranged to make the 'ghosts' literally fly from place to place. It was a comical performance, as the ghosts couldn't get anything right, and the three youngsters were less and less scared. Finally, the three discovered that the real reason the ghost's were trying to scare them was that they were bored to death (naturally) and desperately wanted some entertainment. The clever friends agreed to turn the place into a full-scale haunted village, turning the place into a full theme park, which would bring many people for the ghosts to scare. The ghosts were delighted with the arrangement. They finished with the three friends sitting down with their new otherworldly co-conspirators, plotting all the ways to scare up some tourists.

Rollie applauded with the others, sure that the skit would greatly amuse the children. The Indian camp skit came next and they managed to go through the play smoothly. When it was over they were applauded and congratulated, leaving the crew with a satisfied confidence that the whole thing would be a hit.

At last the children arrived. They were settled in quickly and soon camp was underway in full. Rollie couldn't have felt happier, though his attention did occasionally wander off to the Gunks. He guessed Angie had arrived by now, had set up camp and was probably on the rocks that very moment. He smiled to himself. I bet she's having a great time, he thought.

"Scuze me, Mister?" a small voice beside him jarred Rollie back to the convention center. He turned to the shy little boy who had a round face and cheerful eyes. Like many of the other children, this boy had no hair, but that didn't seem to bother him at all.

"What can I do for you little mate?" Rollie asked, letting his accent thicken. He'd discovered that in dong so he greatly amused the small patients and he was often rewarded with smiles and giggles from them. This boy was no exception; he smiled up at the Aussie in obvious surprise.

"How do you talk like that?" he asked with wonder.

"Same as how you talk," Rollie told him. I just open my mouth and words just spill right out."

"But I've never heard someone like you before," he insisted. "Where do you come from?"

"I used to live on the other side of the world," Rollie said. "In a land called Australia."

The boy's eyes widened. "Kangaroos?"

Laughing Rollie answered, "Yup, there are lots of 'roo's there. And everybody there speaks like I do."

"Everyone?"

"Everyone. So tell me, what's your name?"

"Anthony."

"Alright Anthony," Rollie said. "My name is Rollie. What can I help you with?"

"This," Anthony explained, holding up a project. "It isn't working. I can't get the lacing through the holes."

For the craft booth, Rollie and Claire had organized drawers with several projects in each. The children could choose their craft individually from a list that had pictures of the finished result. The craft that Anthony had selected was a leather purse, which could be hand-sewn together with narrow plastic lacing and could be decorated afterward with sequins, glitter, buttons, ribbon and any other trimmings. The leather had pre-cut holes, but apparently they were slightly small for easy manipulation.

"Ok, let's have a look, Rollie said. He inspected it for a moment then reached back to one of the drawers behind him. He withdrew a large plastic needle, which was usually for another project. Sliding the lacing through the eye took only a moment under Rollie's skilled hands then he slipped the needle through one of the holes experimentally. "There we go," he said aloud. "Here Anthony, I think it'll work better for you now."

"Than you Mister Rollie!" Anthony beamed. "I want it to be perfect for my mom."

"I think your mum will be delighted," the Aussie replied, feeling a slight tug on his heart.

Anthony scurried back to his table and Rollie watched the kids work industriously, until another child needed assistance or advice on their chosen craft. Once a project was completed Claire or Rollie would make sure the child's name was on it somewhere so they could keep their own separate from other's. The crafts were pretty simple, so as a result each child ended up making at least two projects, and often more. Any unfinished projects could be taken back with them to complete later. The afternoon passed quickly this way, and Rollie could hardly believe when the last group left to prepare for supper.

As he and Claire began cleaning up she turned to him.

"Do you have kid's of your own?" she asked.

"Me? No," he answered with surprise. "I'm not married, not even dating anyone."

Claire snorted. "Well, that's not always a requirement," she said dryly. "But anyway, I was just noticing how good you are with the kids; they really adore you."

"Aw, I just try to do my best by them," Rollie informed her. "Besides, I had a great mentor growing up. I like to follow his example."

"Well, it works. That you really care about them is obvious."

"Thanks Claire, you're pretty good at this yourself." Claire seemed to have a way to pull interest from even the most shy of the children.

"Yeah? Well, I've had a bit of practice," she said. "I've got a couple of my own at home. My husbands in charge of them for the weekend though."

"That's great," he replied. "Sounds like we make a good team for this work."

"Yep, I guess we do," she said, smiling back at him. "Well, we're all finished here, you want to see if a few others want to go out to eat before getting back for outpost?"

"Sure, sounds like a plan to me."

At the Gunks, Angie was having her own fun. At the moment, she was hanging from her rope about 80 feet above the ground. She had another 20 feet before she reached the top, and there was still the roof-an overhang of rock she'd have to get over-to go, but she was really enjoying the climb. There's nothing like some good, solid climbing to get your exercise, she thought. This was actually the third climb she and her friends-Lee, Chelsea, and Juin [pronounced Hewn]-had tried for the day. They had started with some easier routes, Top-roping up Bunny and Moonlight before coming to Cakewalk, where they were now. They have some of the oddest names for the routes here. Wonder who named them? Yep, this was definitely a good idea…I wonder what Rollie's up to? Ah, let it be Angie, you're doing fine without him. Why did she keep having to think about him? She knew she could have fun without him…the problem was that she'd rather be having fun with him being there.

"Hey, what's the hold up?" called Chelsea from above the roof. "I thought you were on your way up Angie?"

"Coming," Angie yelled back. "Was just admiring the view; it's awesome!"

The view was quite extraordinary. They could see for quite a ways at the expanse of trees that carried on for several miles. The lake nearby wasn't quite in view from her position, but she thought she might be able to see it from the top, where Chelsea and Lee were already waiting.

"Even better from up there, I'd bet," said Juin. He was below Angie, but on a separate lead.

"That's probably true," She replied. She returned her focus back to the rock. Finding her holds again, Angie continued up the grade. The roof was a bit of a problem, because she had to pull herself from beneath it, but soon she reached the top. Standing and moving away from the edge so that Juin could also get up, she turned to survey the view. "Breathtaking," she said aloud.

"Isn't it?" Chelsea agreed. "Wish I'd thought to bring my camera up with me."

"Well, Juin has his," Lee told her. "If you begged really hard, he just might let you bum a pic from him."

Chelsea grinned. "Or I could just threaten to cut his line if he doesn't."

"Too late," said Juin, coming up over the edge of the roof. "Better luck next time."

Angie smiled at her friends' good-natured banter. They were good friends to have. Life really wasn't so bad. She still wished Rollie were around to share the experience with, but maybe someday. She found herself daydreaming about teaching him the ropes-literally. It wouldn't even have to be something romantic…well, obviously it couldn't be. She sighed. Daydreaming couldn't stop her heart from aching, only time could do that. Oh well, I can still enjoy being around my other friends, right? Right. Tuning back to the others, she saw Chelsea just finishing a shot of the view; Lee was sitting down drinking some water and Juin was simply sprawled out on the ground.

"What did she do, wrestle the camera from you?" Angie teased.

"Naw, I just thought I'd stretch out and absorb some UV rays." Juin grinned up at her and winked. "Hey, do you think we could get away with eating our supper up here?"

"Hah, do you want to get cited?" asked Chelsea. "We can't have a fire up here, New York Forest services would kill."

"They'd have to find us first," Juin said playfully.

"Uh, yeah, and all they'd have to do would be to follow the smoke stack that would be so conveniently visible from up here," Lee added.

"All right, alright, I'm outvoted," Juin laughed. "Lets head down then, cause I'm starving."

"Like that's possible," Angie joked. Juin always carried some snacks around, so his "starving" anytime soon was unlikely.

"Ok, here we go," said Chelsea. She checked her equipment, adjusted her harness and rope then began the quick process of rappelling down the cliff face.

"Last one down has to pull out the chocks!" Angie cried. She gripped her lead and stepped back, making her way down in a series of downward jumps. At least for now, she could enjoy herself; she'd simply take pleasure in the thrill of the experience.

Once they'd finished dinner, the volunteers went back to the convention center. They quickly began setting up for the outposts, using homemade props to give a visual setting for the kids. Taking his place beside the "stage," Rollie surveyed the scenes. They had setup a campfire, surrounded by styrofoam rocks and lit with orange construction paper flames. Some tipi's had been created using some poles and fabric picked up as remnants from a thrift store. Indian designs had been painted on the sides and beads glued on for a more realistic touch. This whole scene was off-set from the center of the stage to make room on the other end for another: no tipi's here, but there was a deadened campfire with more Styrofoam rocks and some burnt logs. A local Nursery had been kind enough to allow them the use of some short conifers; those were spread around and between the two scenes to make the room seem more like the woods. A few construction paper trees decorated the walls to enhance the effect. Together, all their props would've made any movie director cringe, but the effects artist was delighted with how it had come together. They'd also used Bluey; he was tapped into the lighting system and would start flashing them on and off when cued to create a thunderstorm effect. The kids themselves would provide the thunder sounds. The staff had wanted them to be involved with the story.

Rollie spared a moment to think of Angie. He wished she were here to see all that had been done. He knew she'd have been as delighted as he. The thought startled him for a moment, hadn't he gone away this weekend to give them both some space from each other? Why then did she keep popping into his thoughts? He'd only been gone for a day after all! Shaking the thoughts aside, Rollie focused back on the task at hand. He'd sort out the confusing stuff later.

After introducing themselves, the Indian camp leaders started the kids in some fun songs, clapping and snapping included to keep the children interested. There was little need for that, they were thrilled as it was. Each child sang out as loud as they could, reveling in the excitement of their adventure.

At last it was time for the skit itself, Rollie's personal favorite part for the evening. They opened with the entire "tribe" meeting in the village. Chief Running Water the focus.

"As you all know, I'm getting old, and have been quite ill recently," the old chief explained. Dutifully the other costumed Indians nodded gravely. "So the time has come for me to choose a successor." A few of the women wiped away tears for their beloved chief. "However, I've noticed that there are several candidates who would seem very capable of following in my footsteps, and I am having difficulty deciding between them."

"But then how will we know who to follow?" a young brave asked.

"I have thought of a way," replied the old man. "There will be a test. The warriors will go through several challenges that will reveal what they are best at. I will then judge between them based on how they pass the test." Murmurs of agreement passed through the crowd gathered at the campfire. Their chief was wise indeed.

"What is the test going to be?" inquired an old squaw.

"They will all travel around the lake," he answered, sweeping his arm out as he did so in a broad arc toward the children. They giggled. "They will encounter many strange things, for there is a storm coming this night which will challenge them more."

"Tonight!?" gasped a young maiden with long braids over her shoulders. "But this is so sudden."

"Yes," the chief agreed slowly. "It must be tonight, I must see how they deal with problems presented so quickly."

"Brilliant!" exclaimed another brave.

"Now, who will go?" asked another.

Nodding briefly, Running Water called out the names of the warriors taking the test. "Fierce Arrow!"

One of the lanky young braves jumped forward eagerly.

"I will pass this test tonight!" he cried.

"Bear Heart!"

Rollie hurried to stand with the young brave. He stood up straight and confidently said, "You will not be disappointed in me, Great One!"

"Little Thunder!"

The last young warrior made his way to the chief and reached out, clasping the older man's hand. "I wish it were not this way," he said, eyes full of respect. "But I thank you for your belief in me."

The chief smiled back at the young man, his own face reflecting warmth. "I cannot lead forever anyway," he said softly. "Now then, here are your instructions: You will circle the lake, careful of the hazards brought on by the storm. I know there is a great river at the far end, which will be a challenge, but I know you are up to the task of crossing it. You must return by tomorrow for you to pass the test. Finally, each of you will have a hot coal." Here he paused and picked up three leather purses (from the craft table, decorated with feathers and beads). He set them near the fire and stabbed a stick into the flames, pulling out a piece of heated coal-styrofoam painted orange-red. Slipping the "coal" into one of the pouches, he handed it to the nearest brave then repeated the procedure until each of the three had a bag. "You must take this with you, and make sure it is still hot tomorrow morning, for you will use it to make a fire. Then you will fix a meal to share with me."

"I will be here at the first light of dawn!" cried Fierce Arrow.

"I will fix you the best meal you have ever had!" proclaimed Rollie as Bear Heart.

"Should I fix enough for your wife too?" asked Little Thunder.

"We'll see," chuckled the aged chief. "Now, go!"

All three warriors started running-in slow motion. The children laughed heartily at the dramatic demonstration of the three racing braves. Several of them cheered for one or another of them, choosing their favorite of the three.

"All right, now, the rest of us must sleep and await the arrival of our three fellow tribesmen," the chief instructed. The others agreed and everyone crawled into a tipi. Soon many snores drifted out from inside the cloth, eliciting another round of giggles from the audience. A moment later, the chief poked his head out of his dwelling. He carefully tiptoed away from camp, turning as he did to the kids. "Sssshhh," he whispered. Several stifled more giggles, pointing at the escapee.

"I think the storm is coming," he told them. He was now at the edge of the other campsite. "Look how the lightning comes!" One of the others cued Bluey, who began flickering the lights at random intervals. "I bet where there's lightning, there will be thunder," he prompted. More giggling bubbled out along with growls and proclamations of "Boom!" and "Rumble, rumble!"

"Here is the storm," cried Fierce Arrow, bringing the attention back to the warriors. He was in the lead, several feet in front of the other two. "I will run swiftly and avoid much of the rain."

There were two staff members creating rain, one using some small squirt guns, another armed with a large soaker. Obliging the first warrior's speed, the squirt guns were employed, spattering the warrior (and some nearby children) lightly with water. The other two were not so lucky of course, and the soaker sprayed them liberally as the kids shrieked in delight.

"Just a little rain," Bear Heart decided bravely. "It will dry later." Just then there was an additional rumble (from another staff member). "That sounds like an avalanche!" he cried. "But where?"

The wielders of the spray guns had handed over their toys to a few of the kids for operation, and had taken their attention to the side where a box of more Styrofoam rocks, several of them quite large, were sitting on a ladder just ahead of the warriors. All three saw the rockslide coming, and like the arrow he was named for, Fierce Arrow quickly outdistanced the others, taking him away from disaster. The rocks were turned out and the remaining braves skidded to a halt to avoid colliding with them.

"I can handle this!" Bear Heart bragged. Rollie was thoroughly enjoying his role. He proceeded to shove against the rocks, pushing them out of his way using his great strength. Little Thunder waited patiently behind him. At last the path was clear again.

"Thank you Bear Heart," the smaller warrior said. Rollie grunted and took off again, Little Thunder quickly following. They continued around the crowd of children who represented the lake, avoiding other trials and having to get around other obstacles. Each brave had a particular strength he used to get through each problem, Fierce Arrow his speed, Bear Heart his strength. Little Thunder had neither it seemed, so he used his head, discovering that to cross the great river, he could use a large log to float his way across. Several strands of blue yarn marked the river; the log they used was more of a stick, and Little Thunder had looked quite amusing as he pretended to cling to the "log" while he crawled across the "river".

Finally they reached the second campsite, where the chief was waiting disguised by covering himself with a blanket. As the first brave arrived he called out.

"Please help me young man," he cried.

"I cannot," Fierce Arrow told him brusquely. "I must hurry to finish a race." With that, he continued running. The chief turned toward the next warrior, who was closely followed by the third.

"Help me please," he cried again.

"Not now old man," Bear Heart said disdainfully. "I must save my energy for this test." He also continued on. The man turned at last to Little Thunder.

"I'm cold and wet, won't you help?" he asked.

"I will help you," Little Thunder agreed with a smile. "No one should have to stay so cold and wet. At least the rain has stopped now."

Taking the burnt logs, he rearranged them to better resemble a campfire. He then took some straw, borrowed from the petting zoo, and slipped it among the wood as kindling. Finally, he withdrew his coal, still bright and hot and used it to fix up the fire (he pulled up the construction paper flames hidden behind the rocks).

"I see you have some fresh meat, I'll cook that for you if you'd like," the young man offered.

"What a kind person you are," the blanketed man said.

After putting the food on the fire and then serving it to the man, Little Thunder bid him farewell and trotted in the direction of the village. The rest of the tribe was just emerging from their tipi's as Fierce Arrow arrived. They cheered and he raised his arms in triumph, proclaiming himself the victor. Bear Heart was the next to arrive, amidst more cheers. But while Fierce Arrow had come first, he was quite exhausted, whereas Bear Heart was quite fine. And while the first collapsed onto a mat to rest, Bear Heart claimed his own victory because of his steady endurance. At last Little Thunder arrived, looking about at the others in his tribe.

"It's too late Little Thunder," panted Fierce Arrow. "I got here first, so I won."

"No, I won," said Bear Heart smugly. "For I am not weary and tired."

"Where is the chief?" he asked. "Isn't there another part to this test?"

"There is!" called a familiar voice from the edge of camp. Everyone turned to see the blanketed form.

"Who is that?" asked one squaw.

"Do we know you?" inquired someone else.

"Oh, come to our village, you will be welcome here," Little Thunder told him eagerly.

"He's just some old man we saw near the lake," explained Bear Heart.

"Just some old man?" the hooded figure asked, his voice tipped with amusement. He then took down the blanket, revealing his true identity. Bear Heart and Fierce Arrow immediately began sputtering apologies and excuses, but the chief waved them off. He turned instead to the startled Little Thunder, who likewise had no idea who he was. "You are the only one who stopped to help, Little Thunder. So I name you as the next chief of our village." While the other two groaned and the tribe cheered, he turned to the children. "You see," he explained. "I looked not just for speed and strength of body, I wanted to see the heart that would be the next leader of my people. A good leader shows many characteristics: bravery, strength, speed, and endurance. But the best leader is one who displays strength of heart, showing kindness and respect to others. Now, these cannot be forced. Kindness and respect, you have to choose those, and those are the qualities of a true leader, and of a true friend. So, remember the lesson of the three warriors: always be kind and respectful to others."

The children all clapped and cheered, delighted with the conclusion. The cast smiled at them and waited for the groups to switch. Rollie was quite pleased with what they'd come up with, the chief in disguise had been his contribution. Not only had it been fun to do, the children had something to think about as well. The second showing went just as well, a few kids came up to some of them and confessed that this was the favorite, which made spirits soar all around. Of course, it was likely that there were many others who enjoyed the ghost story of Cowboy camp more, but still it was nice to know they'd enjoyed it.

That night as Rollie lay in bed reflecting on the day's events, he wished he could share all the incredible experiences. Ah well, time enough for that come Monday. With a pleased smile on his face, Rollie drifted into the peaceful unconsciousness of sleep.