And that’s a wrap. It accomplished my primary objective which was for me to know who and what Kalí is. In the course of posting these I have made several changes to the MS I sent to my copyeditor as a re-read through things. It is one of the reasons I do this.

Not sure where I am headed next, posting to this blog, that is. I’ve crept back up on “New Russia” and wrote a little yesterday but still am not entirely comfortable with what’s going on. Perhaps I’ll try some posts about non-story topics? We’ll see. Thanks for reading!

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Tell and Logan acted as witnesses while Pedro did a cover of the Wedding March on his guitar.  My least dirty clothes were the best I could manage but hers…  “What?  This is what I wear,” was her response this morning after breakfast, standing in her rags.

Kalí said she had talked to this priest but he certainly seems uncomfortable with the whole thing.  At least she left her rifle on a pew.  My letter back home is going to take a little time to craft.

“No it won’t,” she said, interrupting the priest in the middle of the short ceremony.

Some moments later, following two, “I do’s,” no rings, they kissed and left St. John’s Church.

“The sheriff said he wants us back at ten-hundred,” Tell said after taking a couple of pictures of them with his phone.  “That leaves us about ninety minutes.  We’ve checked out so you two behave.  Not sure if we want to go back to that oil patch or onto the next?  What do you think, Boss?”

“Those were thieves, not wildcatters,” David said after a moment’s thought.  “And you’re right, Tell, it’s a rich patch.  Depending on what happens at ten, let’s get ready to head back.”

Grunts of approval were followed by an embarrassed silence.  The three wandered off north.

“Ninety minutes,” his now official wife said.  “More than enough.”

“What’s that, Mrs. Perry?” he smiled.

There were aluminum tanks to his right and a huge timber frame house to his left.  They are not for oil.  And this smells like central Texas.

A shorter man in a Field Forces uniform, but with a star on each of his shirt collars, walked out of the house with a smiling Chinese woman behind him.  They came down the four steps of the wrap-around balcony and he put his right hand out.

“Arpad Rigó,” he said by way of introduction.  “This is my wife, Lily.”

After shaking his hand, where are we and how did I get here, he lightly took hers.

“David Perry.  Um.  It seems I am your son-in-law,” he managed.  “Sorry if this is so sudden.”

Lily snorted at that.

“A watchword of my family, newest son,” she smiled at him.  “And my rambunctious daughter was kind enough to send warning a day ago.”

“She did?” He turned to Kalí.  “You did?”

“Time is fleeting,” she ignored him and spoke to her parents.  “We must go but will be back soon.  I think.”

For some unknown reason, her parents took a step back.

“You must help me this time,” Kalí said, again next to him.  “Think of home.  Good.  Now…”

He looked up at his family home, about ten miles south of Tyler.  And two hundred miles away from Austin.  She tugged at his left hand.

“Your family is not expecting us and knows nothing.  Be concise, as you must be back with your men in an hour.  Shall I wait out here?”

He let go of her hand and put his arm about her waist, pulling her close.

“We shall never be apart,” he said, leading her forward.  She made a sound that could have been a cough or a laugh.  “What’s that?”

“Yes, our souls are bound.  But our bodies both must fulfill God’s work, husband David.” She sniffed loudly.  “Fresh bread.  Make me older about your first family, my love.”