I spent Saturday morning riding and working on the bike. I was trying to get it just perfect, but when I read more about the bikes, I realized that the perfect DIY bikes did not exist. It was a continuous process. Definitely not a plug and play device. Even so it appealed to me. It had been a long time since I did anything with my hands. The bike had been an affirmation of what my dad had always said, "A man is never happier than when he is working with his hands."

I hadn't eaten all day, so when I stopped at three for a bowl of cereal, I was a little shaky. I was speeding on caffeine as well as having a low sugar episode. It only took the cereal and some orange juice to put me right again. It was a good thing, since I got a call from the woman I met at the Tennessee reenactment.

"Hello Mr. Abba?" came he voice over the phone. Even the miles and the lousy quality of the electronics couldn't disguise her voice.

"Yes, is that you Jenny?"

"It is, how have you been?"

"I have been just fine, how have you been?"

"Busy getting ready for the battle of Foxton reenactment."

"Oh when is that? and where is it?"

"It's two weeks from today and it's at Foxton Kentucky."

"Oh then I might try to make it,"

"Good, Some of us saw your web page and it is marvelous. We would like for you to camp with us, if you can. You could shoot pictures around the camp, kind of document it."

"I would love to, but the old cameras just aren't up to the much work. Would they object to me using some more modern equipment."

"Not as long as you aren't too obvious about it. Don't dress period and the visitors will think you are just another tourist."

"That sounds fair, will you email me the information?"

"of course, and John?"

"Yes Jenny," My husband is looking forward to meeting you."

"Oh I had no idea you were married," I said trying not to let the disappointment show.

"Yes I'm married and have two grown children. Edward was away on a business trip during the last bivouac. He promised me faithfully that he would be at Foxton."

"Great, I look forward to meeting him." She had to know that it was a lie, but I tried to keep it sounding plausible. The chance to shoot several rolls of film was something I did not want to pass up.

We said our goodbyes. I went back to ride the bike again. The quick charger showed that it was ready to ride, so I took off for a few miles. When I returned home, I had completely forgotten about Jenny and her husband. It was getting dark so I checked my messages, then turned the computer in search of some TV show to watch. Before I knew it I was exhausted and ready for bed.

"I can see that we have a lot of work to do here," she burst into laughter at the look on my face. "Okay, I promise I won't turn the place into a faggy nightmare, but you have to let me make it more comfortable."

"Mary, this is your first visit. You may not ever want to come back." I replied, with what I thought was perfect logic.

"So what you are telling me is, not to get too comfortable." She actually laughed. It was something she could not have done a month before.

"Not at all," I replied.

"Don't worry John, I get it. This is all new to both of us. I promise I will slow down and just let it happen." She found a spot on the sofa, then asked, "Do you have anything to drink around here?"

"I think I have a little rum, I'm sure I have a diet coke. So want to try a Cuba double Libra?"

"I'm up for anything tonight."

Truer words were never spoken. Mary was not a wild lover, but she was anxious to please. She tried to read my mind, which was both erotic and a bit concerning to me. Still it was a pleasure to be with her, both at the movie and in bed. I even took her to breakfast Saturday morning, but not to the Waffle and Egg.

After Mary left I tried to rig up the bike. Since the friction drive was so inefficient I didn't plan on riding it twenty miles. My plan was to drive the car within a miles of my delivery point, then get on the bike for the last mile or so. It was just for fun and part of the cover story. I didn't really need the bike, but it was all like a big game to me at that point.

I was shocked to find how much pure fun the bike was to ride. I knew that I had to watch my distances because the batteries weren't like gasoline. I couldn't buy a charge, when I ran low. I also found the bike to be heavy and clumsy. Still it was fun to zip around the back streets. People stared at me. I wasn't quite sure if it was because they thought I was an idiot or a genius. The bike was ugly as hell, that I did know for sure.

By the time I finished with the bike for the day, it was dinner time. I had worked right through lunch. I had also missed my walk. It was the first time in months that I had done that. I was tempted to drive to the mall for a couple of quick miles, but I decided that I had done enough physical work on the bike to offset my lack of walking.

After dinner I spent the evening in thought. The bike was a bust for the express business. It was just too heavy and clumsy, but it was a huge amount of fun to ride. I knew that it was going to be a toy for me, but I didn't mind. It would be another inexpensive way to pass the time.

The idea for the post card series came to me around midnight. I figured the bike would take me out about five miles no more. Even that had to be tested with a full powered set of batteries. I knew that I could find things of interest within five miles of my home. I had the reenactments on some weekends. The image a day had been a bust, but if I combined it with my bike rides, I could start a series of postcards and call it the 'Five Miles from Ground zero' collection. The idea sounded wonderful, of course I was also half asleep. Most things sounded good ,when I was drugged by sleep deprivation.

Thing began to just drift along since the brothers couldn't get bail, and since nobody seemed to be pressing for information about Charlie or Robbie's, almost, severed finger. It might have seemed that way, but I knew better.

I debated putting a hundred bucks in a bad assed con's canteen account, to have Robbie just go away. I knew that most of the crap people got into was trying to cover us a minor crime by committing a larger one. It also knew that it would have been pretty stupid, but it was still a real temptation.

Life was truly boring for a couple of weeks. I made a few bucks delivering court papers, but that was boring as well. Without someone else having put the mooch on alert, they just seemed to take the deliveries. Even so I was just marking time till something new happened in my life. Nothing kept my interest long, so I was always on the prowl for new things. It might be that I was going to be one of those guys for whom retirement was a death sentence,

I was having thoughts of eating my gun, when the batteries arrived for my bike. Okay, not eating the gun, but I was pretty damn bored. I took the box battery from china into the kitchen. I brought in the laptop and sat it on the table along with my small tool box. I also found a roll of aluminum foil I had bought the week before. Since I ordered the batteries, I picked up the roll of foil, the roll of duct tape, and some wire in preparation.

I carefully followed the instruction as I began building the battery. It took me into the evening , but in the end I felt pretty comfortable that I had it right. The directions for the build were written by the same old man who wrote the ones to build the motor drive. He was an evil genius in my opinion. He wrote the thing step by step in deceptively easy to understand language. The problem was that it was so easy, I second guessed myself every step of the way. I knew that I wasn't quite finished with the project but I was close. I still had a few more things to do before I could test it, so I put the project away for the evening.

It was about an hour after I closed the tool box that the phone rang. I had just enough time, between the battery and the call, to grill a burger. I was chewing on it when I said. "Hello."

"John, it's Mary Seymore. Since you never call me anymore, I decided to call you. They are showing Rocky Horror Picture show tonight at the Palladium. Why don't you and I go. I'll even pay for your ticket, but you have to buy the popcorn and cokes."

"No fair, that is gonna be a lot more than the ticket to a fifty year old movie."

"Hell, if that were fifty, then I would be seventy and I'm not. Anyway they still role play and do all that other campy stuff. Come on it will be fun, after all it is Friday."

"Well, I'm always looking for a new experience, why not?"

"You mean to tell me you never saw Rocky Horror?"

"Never," I replied honestly.

"Well honey, you are in for an experience for sure. You want to come over here, or meet me at the theater?"

"The Palladium is half way, why don't I just meet you?" We agreed on a time and then hung up.

The Palladium was one of those god awful multiplex things. I had never been to see a movie there, so it was going to be a night filled with new experiences for sure.

The movie was interesting more for the audience, than the crappy story line. Still it was a fun experience. Mary's hand on my thigh was more than I expected, but I didn't push here away. I did gently take her hand and hold it in the dark. My way of saying lets not rush into anything. Hell that's what I thought it meant anyway.

It was almost two A.M. when the movie ended. Mary and I went for coffee at the all night Waffle House in the same shopping complex. There was no way I would take Mary to the Waffle and Egg back in Carthage. Frances and Mary both had that territorial thing going. Every woman I ever met had that. It is why I tried to keep my relationships with women casual.

At the waffle house Mary and I had lots of almost good coffee, while we discussed everything but here office, and my problems with the SBI. I found out about her days in high school as a nerd, and she found out that I was the kid smoking in the boy's room.

Then we talked about her college days and my military days for an equal amount of time. There could not have been two people less suited for one another. The only thing we had in common was about two minutes in the hallway outside a courtroom. I guess a near death experience trumps peer friendships. The conversation was what I had hoped for from the start. Mary seemed to have gotten past her ptsd. We were just two people again who shared a common experience not a savior and the saved. I much preferred the way things were, to the way they had been.

After an hour and no way to delay the inevitable Mary invited herself to see my house. She followed me home and was careful to park on my side of the drive.

"God do you need help with this place. Who decorated it that motorcycle builder on TV. You know the one who says fuck in at least every other sentence."

"No there was no decorator, it's just odds and ends. It was supposed to be very utilitarian and it is."

I spent the complete next day waiting for a other shoe to fall. It never did. I managed to get the 'image of the day' shot. It was an image of a historic district house, which had some nice lines. I even managed to get Misty to stand on the porch and look wistfully at the lens. The camera was good enough to catch her expression and the lines of the house as well.

In the process I made friends with the president of the Hysterical society. that contact guaranteed me limited access to all the historical sites in town. I thought that I might do a set of postcards based on a walking tour of the hysterical district. It would be nice to have Misty tag along, but she had school and Molly to worry about so it wasn't likely she would be in them all.

I didn't have any papers to deliver that day, so with my image of the day made, I settled in to learn more about the performance of the batteries I had purchased. I tried to put the whole Charlie/Robbie thing out of my mind. Since I carried the .38 snubbie where ever I went, it was difficult.

"I thought you might want to know the brothers badass were denied bail." The voice on the other end of the cell phone belonged to Louise.

"So when do they go to trial?" I asked.

"Depends on what they have to say to the DA. He is offering to drop the death penalty, if they plead out and roll on the guys in New Jersey."

"That better be all he drops," I said.

"We already told him no immunity or he will be seeing Charlie sooner than he would like. The feds want in, but the DA is going to scream holy hell. He reminded that it's an election year just in case they try to force a take over . None of them want that kind of publicity. We told the DA an old ex-cop who still had plenty of connections, would be happy to make an election issue of it. I'm pretty sure Charlie is going to get justice."

"Well I have seen a lot of immunity deals," I replied.

"Well we reminded the DA, this ain't one thug killing another thug. Charlie was a cop and they haven't been able to hang a dirty cop tag around his neck."

So that was why she was calling. She wanted to be sure that I wasn't going to put the stink on Charlie. "Don't worry Louise, I got nothing I can say about Charlie."

"I never thought you would have anything to say." I began to wonder why Louise had been so hot not to have Charlie's laundry aired. I began to wonder how clean her panties were. I could ask around, but I didn't really care anymore. I was off the line, and damn happy to be off now that all this crap was coming down.

I ordered a large pizza for dinner. I figured it was time I broke the diet. I had lost over ten pounds in the few short weeks since my retirement. Pizza and diet coke wasn't much of a celebration, unless the celebrator had been living on a diet of dry hamburger and salad. The pizza dough was a real treat.

The delivery was by a young woman with a can of pepper stray hanging from her belt. That was probably a good idea, considering she had no idea who would come to the door. Lots of bad people in the world, and even more good people who once in a while did terrible things to each other.

I ate half the pizza, then stashed the other half in the fridge. I Watched more of the old SciFi channel drama on the net, then I went to bed exhausted from doing mostly nothing.

I could have sat around stewing about the investigation supposedly of Charlie, or I could work on my image of the day. I chose the latter. The investigation would work out or not, that was something over which I had very little control.

I did get the image of the day made and processed before word of my present situation filtered down to Mary. At least it took two hours for her to call.

"John what the hell is going on?" she asked angrily.

"Not much, what's going on with you?" I knew what she meant, I was just trying to calm the situation a little..

"I talked to daddy. He said the SBI was trying to intimidate you."

"Well, something like that." I said it hoping she would calm down.

"Well, they have no idea who the hell they are screwing around with."

"Oh I'm sure they know. Don't worry honey, I expect it all to go away in a day or two."

"If we hear anything about an interview, I will personally call you."

"Mary, I don't think they really want to interview me, if it's going to be any trouble. The things I know about Charlie a hundred other guys know as well. They won't really need me to fill in the blanks. I was just the easiest place to start, they thought."

"Well don't worry, no matter what they want, I will personally see to it that nothing happens to you. At least not before our midnight picnic." She laughed before she went on. "If there is anything you need, just call me anytime. You do still have my home number?"

"Yes, I have it. Now go back to work and make a lot money, so your dad will be proud of you." I said that with a smile in my voice.

"He is already proud of me. But yes I do need to go back to work. See you soon." she said breaking the connection.

I wasn't one little bit worried about Charlie's business effecting me. I had nothing to do with it and everybody knew it. Charlie didn't even keep me in the loop about his affairs. He knew I wanted to be far away from his so called friends. That being the case, there was nothing I could or would tell the state investigators.

My concern was Robbie and his almost severed finger. I was absolutely sure he was whining about it all over the jail. It might easily have put his court appointed lawyer's panties in a wad. He might have got someone to launch an investigation. If so, the Charlie thing was just a rouse. I didn't intend to answer any questions about anything, if I could avoid it. It was my position to let the state boys try to prove something happened to Robbie. Even if they proved that it wasn't an accident let them try to prove that I did it. I had absolutely no intention of explaining anything until I had to. Then it would be on the witness stand, where I would deny everything and come up with some logical alternative answers. Plus add, "Even if I did do it the bastard killed my best friend for no good reason," that usually worked on juries, when a clean looking, decorated cop said it about a known thug.

I did plan to tell Herbert about the problem with Charlie and his killer. He needed to know why I wouldn't take questions during a probe of Charlie. If he could limit the area of questions, fine I would talk, if not screw them all.

I made that decision at the same time I decided that the image of the day wasn't bad. At not bad it got a few minutes of my time to try to improve it. A few of my standard manipulations and I put it in the file to save. I looked at the clock on the microwave. It was six PM, when I realized that I had wasted a whole day worrying about the state cops and the image that would likely never get used.

I made myself dinner, then sat at the computer until midnight. I checked out a few sites about the bike and batteries Then I watched the news from three different all news all day sites, finally I ended the day watching an old TV series which had aired on the SciFi network a few years before.

I fell into bed exhausted.

I developed three different negatives which I had shot but had not yet processed. One was a bust from the word go. The tools and the image of my singer were acceptable. Those I hung in the closet to dry. I stayed up reading on the net until I was totally exhausted. At that point I fell into bed and then into a restless sleep.

The next morning I got a call from Susan's receptionist. I drove over to Williamsport. I stopped first at Susan's office, then I went to the Seymore Group's office. I got kept waiting there, while Mary finished a client interview.

"I see you found the coffee pot. I was worried that you might have forgotten where it was." Mary was cheerful of which I approved.

"Oh lots of things I do forget these days, but where to find free coffee is etched on my brain. So what do you have for me."

"Mostly routine stuff, but I do have one that should be a challenge. He has been avoiding service for a month. I can't prove that he is selling off assets, but I would bet my next years salary that he is."

"Well be sure that I have all the information you have and I'll give it a shot."

"Oh, I have no doubt you will get a handle on it. After all you're my hero." she did grin to make it more of a joke. I left the office feeling good about Mary's mental health.

Most of the papers in Williamsport were simple. Without a previous attempt by a professional process server at his or her door, most cooperated with the Lightening Express Courier quite well. I had one dummy check type envelope which I waved around some of the time, and the old tube which could have contained plans that got waved around now and then as well. It was sign for the dummy package and get the court order instead. Reusing the same old packages over and over kept me from make a new dummy prop every time.

I stopped for a late lunch at a diner a few blocks from the office of the mooch who had been ducking service. I very carefully backed my old ford until it almost touched his Beemer. As I walked by his car toward the building, I gently rocked it. Of course,The car alarm went off. Lights flashed and the horn sounded every one around noticed.

"Hi," I said to the receptionist in the lobby. I think I have a problem. I bumped into a black BMW sedan outside. The parking space has the name Jarrell on it."

"Oh God, me Jarrell will have a fit. You stay right there, I do not want to take the blame for this." She made a call to someone presumably upstairs in Jarrell's office. It took about three or four minutes for the man in shirtsleeves to come rushing from the elevator.

"You might want my insurance information," I said handing him the envelope. He was steaming as he took the envelope from me. "By the way," I added. "You have just been served. See you in court." I tried to walk away, but the little fat man grabbed my arm.

"What the hell is this all about."

"It's about finally handing you the court order. I have your picture with it, by the way. I took it with this little key ring digital camera. It won't be a really good image, but it will do." Then I looked down at his hand on my arm. "Now take your fucking hand off me, or I'm going to break it." He removed his hand. "And have a nice day."

"You bastard," he called as I walked away.

"An accident of birth for me, you had to work it out all by yourself." I laughed as the receptionist giggled. I hoped that Jarrell couldn't fire her. I would hate for him to take all his frustration out on her.

I fought hard not to ram his BMW. I knew it would only cost me, so instead, I pulled carefully away. When I was far enough away to shoot an image of his car with the key ring camera, I stopped and made the picture. I made damn sure that he saw me documenting the lack of damage to his car.

I only had one service in Carthage and it was anti climatic. I just handed the paper to the owner of a beauty salon/spa. The woman was a bit of a redneck but she took the papers without an angry word. Her lawyer had told her to expect the papers and to accept them.

I made right at two hundred bucks for the half days work. It was enough to repay myself for the batteries I had ordered.

I made a picture of Molly for my one shot of the day. Molly was not the beauty or free spirit that Misty was, but she had some interesting mannerisms and cute expressions.

I met Mary for lunch three days later to pick up a couple of more papers to serve. "Is there some reason I can't hold these to do along with next week's batch?" I asked. It was my not to subtle way of asking if the second pickup was really necessary.

"Sure you can hold them, I just wanted to get them into your hands in case you were around the area, you could work them into your schedule as you see fit." She had obviously rehearsed the answer,

"Good, I always enjoy seeing you." I was surprised that it wasn't a lie.

"Good, we should do something fun sometime," she suggested.

"I was thinking about a picnic," I said laughing.

"I love picnics."

"How would you feel about sneaking into the park here some night at midnight for a picnic?"

Her laugh was unladylike, but genuine. "I think I would love that. You decide when and call me. Now I have to go play lawyer. I have court in a few minutes." When we got to the parking lot of Steve's Place, she kissed me quickly. She was gone before I could react.

My days fell back into a routine, even though the routine changed every few days, it was still a rut. A rut didn't have to be the same thing everyday of your life, like working on an assembly line, it could be choosing things from the same small list every day. I guess that is to say I wasn't all that upset when they came.

"Yes," I said. There were two of them standing on my stoop that Wednesday morning. Two guys in cheap suits usually meant cops, but then again I wasn't taking any chances. I kept the snubbie behind my leg as I opened the door.

Two badges, and I D cases magically appeared. "Mind if I hold one of those a minute?"

"Yes ,we do mind," The smaller of the two said as he put the badge away.

"Then get your ass off my porch and then get off my property. Unless I can verify that ID, you are not welcome here, therefore you are trespassing."

For a change I had thought to pick up my cell phone before I went to the door. I made a big deal of opening it and pressing 911. I held off pressing enter while they turned to each other. The larger man handed me his ID.

"Now what would the State Bureau of Investigation want with me?"

"We came to talk about your dead partner, but considering your attitude, maybe we should extend the investigation to include you." The little one said.

"Sonny, you need to work on your technique. Bullying some people just won't work." I pushed a number on the speed dial menu and the private phone, in the private office of Herbert Seymore rang.

"Mr. Seymore, I have two men at my door. They are allegedly from the SBI and they want to talk about Charlie, but are threatening to investigate me.

"Good to talk to you John, now why would they want to include you?"

"Something about not liking my attitude. I expect. What would you suggest I do?"

"I suggest you let me handle it, give the alph cop the phone please. By the way thanks for taking those papers. Mary seems like her old self again.

" Yes Sir of course. Give Mary my regards." I handed the phone to the smaller of the two.

"Hello (Pause) Agent Hopkins (Pause) Yes sir, we will call for an appointment (Pause)" He handed me the phone.

"We will be talking to you again."

"In a better mood, I hope." I said it closing the door in his face. I knew how pissed he was. I had the exact same thing done to me by a gambler ten years before. The phone was a wireless house phone not a cell, but it worked exactly the same.

The bike was on hold, I barely found time to shoot a picture a day that week. I made the time for a weekend trip to a reenactment in Tennessee. I invested in a wooden tripod to use with the old Polaroid camera just for that trip. I was giving serious thought to getting some period clothing and camping gear. I hadn't gotten into it quite enough to sleep on the ground. I was still sleeping in local motels when I met Jenny, not that it made any difference.

Jenny was a most remarkable women. She was part of the Tennessee re enactor group. She was played what could only be called a camp follower. One of the women who moved with the troops. In the real war they were probably old crones. Jenny was as far from that as I was from respectability.

I saw her first during the day at the encampment. She was frying corn bread cakes for the men to eat with their beans and bacon. She was attractive enough to be noticed and even remembered, but it was in the evening that she captured my heart and those of a lot more like me.

I got invited to join the social hour after the day's battle. The re enactors had built camp fires all around the old home place where the encampment was taking place. At one fire the number of men was easily ten times that of any other. At that campfire a woman's beautiful voice split the dark. Her voice seemed to make even the most tired of men sit up and take notice. She sang hymns in that beautiful southern accented voice. It made grown men cry, even though these men were in no danger of dying tomorrow. I could image the effect such a woman might have had on troops headed into battle the next day. That might have been what we were all feeling, even if we didn't really understand it.

I waited until the next day to approach her. "Ma'am my name is John Abba, I am a photographer."

"I know who you are Mr. Abba. People around here talk about the images on your web site. I even got to see the site this morning. The miracles of modern science. I would be drummed out of the camp followers and prostitute league, if anyone knew that I kept my fancy phone hidden in my petty coats."

"You might have read on the site that I make only one image a day. I would like today's image to be you."

"I would be most honored to be your image of the day."

"I shot her picture in her fancy lady of the manor dress, with a matching parasol. It was one damn fine picture. It was also the featured image on my web site from that day on.

I got back into Carthage late in the night on Sunday. I didn't even stop for food, instead I drove straight home. I wasn't happy to find the front door to my half of the duplex ajar. There was a business card taped to the door. It advised me to call the investigating officer. I went inside and found that the house had been tossed. There was no way for me to tell what was missing at that moment, so I went directly to bed. I did sleep with the pistol close at hand.

Repairing the door took a while the next day. I made my one image for the day of a hammer and carpenter's square laying on a saw horse. It was the only things I was expecting to see that day. After I finished with the door I got my shoe box rollodex out and called the animal shelter.

"Hey there, is Sam working today?" I had already returned the tranc pistol. I wanted to talk to Sam about something else.

"Abba, that was payment in full," he sounded concerned that I was going to be like a blackmailer.

"It was indeed, this is a favor you can do me."

"What?" he sounded a little concerned, buy also relieved.

"I'm looking for a puppy. A male that has not been fixed."

"If they come through the shelter, they have to be fixed you know that."

"Yes but do you know of any that are about to be weaned. I would like to get him before he gets to the shelter."

"Come on Abba, I work with these shelter dogs. We have plenty of them that need adoption."

"How about a litter that is headed to the shelter. It would save the country some money, if I got to the puppy first."

"Keep your cell phone on, this isn't really the best time of year, but I'll give you a call if I get one for you. If you can get there in time, you can pick one out."

"Fair enough, I owe you Sam."

"Not yet but you will," he laughed as he hung up the phone.