Safe in the Lion’s Den, Pt. 29

The sheriff swallowed hard and nodded; taking the phone from me and holding it to his face.

"Hello Mr. President." he said nervously. "Yes Suh! No Suh, I had no idea. Oh, he's toirminated, Suh! Oh, you can be coiten of that..."

The conversation faded, as I walked away. I didn't need to hear what was going on, and the owner of the motel was standing nervously near the room, so I decided to tell her what was going on.

"What happened?!" she half exclaimed, half demanded. "What's going on here?!"

"Just a misunderstanding." I said calmly, trying to bring her emotions down a notch. "They're at the wrong location. Well, it's the right location now, considering what happened. That idiot cop was convinced he was at the Smoky Mountain Motel. When I told him he was in the wrong place, he kicked the door in."

"What?!" she exploded. "I can't afford to fix that!"

"Don't worry," I assured her, "there was no real damage. It just pulled the screws out of the door. You can just go a size bigger. Besides, you'll more than get it back, if you file a lawsuit. There's going to be an investigation into the goings-on over there, now, too."

"Where?"

"The Smoky Mountain Motel." I replied. "I'm going to see to it, that their business dealings are on the up and up, and that there isn't another reason for the way things are going on. You can talk to the sheriff about it, while he's here. Oh, here he comes now. Hang on a sec; looks like the President wants to talk to me again. Be right back."

She gave me an odd look, as Sheriff Cody approached me with his phone hand extended.

"President MacDonald wants to speak with you again, Special Agent Fawkes." he said somewhat glumly.

I nodded and took the phone back. It was abundantly clear, that John had taken a bite out of his ass the size of a grapefruit.

"Yo!" I greeted him as casually as I could, regarding the situation.

"I had a nice little chat with the sheriff." John stated. "He seems to be a nice guy. I think that he'll work with us on this matter. Now, I actually have some good news for you. Let Portia know that her assets have been unfrozen. All of them. Her accounts will work like they did before, and all of her possessions have been relinquished. It's like it never happened. Her personal life has been reestablished. Sophia's too."

"Oh, that's great!" I responded. "They'll be glad to hear that! I know they must miss their own things. It must be really hard to start all over with nothing."

"Well, they're sure starting over with plenty of excitement." he commented. "I think I'm going to designate you as 'Hoover' from here on out."

"Oh yeah?" I inquired. "I have that strong of a presence?"

"No," he retorted, "because you're like a giant fucking vacuum cleaner that goes around sucking in all of the bullshit that's going on in the world! I love it! Just be careful."

"I will." I promised. "Oh... by the way, this whole thing started because of a mix up with another motel with a similar name. They seem to be kinda shady, and it's bad for business. Any way you could someone look into it?"

"I'd sending the Attorney General down there to prosecute that ass clown personally." he informed me. "I'll have him tack that onto the case. Text me the name of the other place, and I'll have him look into it while he's there."

"Awesome!" I replied. "I appreciate it. Anything else?"

"No, that covers it for now." John said solemnly. "Just be careful Jack. I mean it."

"Thanks." I responded. "Talk atcha later."

The motel's owner looked at me with eyes as big as saucers, as I closed the phone.

"Did you just greet the President of the United States, with 'Yo'?!" she demanded incredulously.

I smiled and nodded.

"Yeah." I said with a bit of a grin. "We go way back. Anyway, have you had a chance to speak with the sheriff about the Smoky Mountain Motel?"

She nodded in reply.

"Good." I continued. "Sheriff, the President is sending the AG down here to go after your deputy personally. While he's here, he is going to be investigating that motel as well. I would really appreciate it if you would do your best to assist him."

"I coitenly shall." he replied. "The sooner the government is outta here, the better. Folks in these parts still don't trust the Feds. Nothing poisonal; just fact."

"I understand." I acknowledged. "There's something about that place that just strikes me the wrong way though. Ever get a feeling like that about someone or someplace, before? It's like they don't care about the business one way or the other. Like profits weren't that important."

"Like a front for something?" the sheriff mused.

"Exactly!" I concurred. "I used to see it all the time up North, when I was a kid. 'Money Laundromat, Incorporated.' Motels still run a ton of transactions on a cash basis. Be a good place to run a ton of transactions that never existed through, and show a non existent profit. Pay the taxes on that money, and the amount you declared is as clean as a whistle!"

"Now you've gotten my attention." he responded, extending his hand. "I will coitenly woik with the Attoiney General on this matter. Good night, Agent Fawkes. I'm sorry we met under such unpleasant coicumstances."

"Yes, well, these things do happen." I replied; shaking his hand. "You have a good night as well."

Sheriff Cody nodded, and tipped his hat toward the owner.

"Night Ma'am." he said, as he left. "Have your insurance company contact the Department, regarding the damages."

The woman looked at me in exasperation.

"Where am I going to get someone to fix that door, tonight?!" she fumed. "I don't have another room, and I can't ask you to stay in an unsecured room."

"It's not unsecured." I reassured her. "The deadbolt still works fine. So does the door. It was open when he kicked it, so like I said, it just needs the screws changed, or just re-drill them above or below, into new metal."

The woman looked crestfallen.

"My husband used to do all of that." she confessed quietly. "He passed away last year. I miss him so!"

"He had tools?" I inquired gently.

She sniffed and nodded.

"I'll need a drill, bits and a Phillips bit." I said to her. "I'll fix your door."

Her eyes widened.

"Really? Oh, I can't ask you to that." she responded.

"You don't have to." I said with a smile. "I'm offering. If I don't have to hunt for everything, I can probably be putting the stuff back in ten minutes."

"Oh, that would be wonderful!" she exclaimed. "Follow me."

"Hey, I'll be right back!" I called into the room. "I'm going to fix the door."

"In that case," I heard Reba's voice reply, "stay tuned for another episode of This Old Motel!"

I followed the woman into a back room, and stared at the tool rack and workbench along the back wall. It was like looking at my own; just on a smaller scale. There were old power tools like my dad's, antique hand tools; the whole nine yards.

"Wow!" I marveled. "Nice little workshop!"

""He always liked tinkering." she said wistfully. "I hope what you need is there."

"It is." I replied, as I picked up an old 3/8 drill, and checked for the chuck key. It was still attached, so I located a drill index, and an old metal Band-aid box with assorted screw bits inside. "Okay, let's go."

I was surprised to see Portia and Sophia still chatting in front of the camera, as we entered the room.

"Daddy!" Sophia exclaimed. "I missed you!"

"I didn't realize y'all were still streaming." I said, as I hugged my daughter. "I missed you too!"

"Oh, everyone's waiting to see you in action." Portia said with a grin.

"I see." I replied, as I spied a nearby receptacle and plugged the drill in.

I switched to my Northern Irish brogue, and began speaking to the camera.

"This is Angus McGee, and you are watching 'This Old Irish Yankee Handyman's House.' I'll repair what your husband fixed! And don't forget, if your husband's away and you have a leak, I'll be more than glad to take a peek!" I stated, as I touched the trigger and spun the chuck a bit, before dropping the dialect. "Okay, what we have here, is a case of the screws stripping out the metal into which they were fastened. I am simply going to drill some new holes, and run the screws into them, nice and tight."

I compared the screw shank's diameter to a few bits, before settling on one that looked good.

"Okay, Camera Babe!" I said to Reba. "Come over here and get a close-up of this. Princess, would you be so kind as to grab that pencil from the survey card on the desk and bring it over here, please?"

"Sure Dad!" she replied, handing me the short pencil, which I then used to trace the holes on the chain base.

"I'm going to mount this about an inch above the old location," I explained, "so I'll just trace the holes up here, and then drill each one."

I drilled all four holes, and then used the chuck key to switch to a screw tip. I then slid the screws through the holes in the base and fastened each one in quick succession. I shut the door, and did a quick test.

"Good as new!" I exclaimed, as I bent over and unplugged the drill. "Okay, show's over! Everyone have a wonderful night, or day, wherever you are. Out for now!"

Reba ended the stream, and handed the phone back to Portia.

"I'll take everything back." the woman said. "Thank you so much! How much do I owe you?"

"Nothing." I replied. "I told you, I offered to help."

"I saw that this was being streamed." she observed. "I guess at least a few people witnessed what that deputy did to my motel!"

"And about the real issue being the other motel in the first place." I agreed. "I'd say several thousand probably caught some of the interaction, and him coming through the door, but I know the viewership must have gone up as people were notified and tuned in. Do you know how many viewers there were at the end, Babe?"

"Ten point two million." she replied, as the woman's jaw dropped.

"I set the stream to the emergency setting." Portia explained. "It notifies subscribers to an emergency alert. They have the option of auto play as well."

"That's why!" Reba exclaimed. "Within two or three seconds, there were already fifteen hundred people tuned in. It was over a million in a minute or so. Nice job, by the way!"

She high-fived me, and I returned it. The woman shook her head and looked stunned.

"Ten million views in fifteen minutes?!" she burst out. "That's some serious money!"

"It all goes to charity." Portia explained. "I didn't feel like I should gain... what's the word, like money...?"

"Monetarily?" I suggested.

"Yes! That I should gain monetarily from my constituents curiosity." she continued. "So each month, the dividends go to a special fund that benefits children's causes."

"Wow, that is really nice!" the woman exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "So I guess you're a politician then. You look a little familiar. I don't know, do you represent me?"

"Not unless your main address is in Noritalia." I said dryly. "She came over for a meeting, and decided to stay. Her audience has gone up considerably too, since she resigned that other day."

"I think a lot of that is because of all of the action that started after you came on board." Reba giggled. "The account is averaging like half a million new subscribers a day. Y'all are getting really popular around the world now! It's not just a base audience in a small European country anymore. I'll bet you'll hit five hundred million before you start to plateau."

"That's a lot of charity!" I remarked. "It's too bad you didn't leave room for a small percentage to allow for administration costs. Oh shit! I totally forgot, Poppy; John told me to tell you that your accounts and property have been unfrozen. It's like it never happened. All of your passwords should still work, and all of your stuff is yours again! You don't have to start over from scratch anymore."

"Oh, thank God!" Portia exclaimed. "All of the heirlooms and the properties! But what am I going to do with them now?"

"What were you going to do with them before?" I inquired.

"Leave everything to Sophia." she stated.

"Nothing's changed." I pointed out. "Just because you live here now, doesn't mean you can't go back to visit. Loan the heirlooms to museums, until Sophia is old enough to decide what to do with them. Get all of your personal belongings shipped over here, and rent the houses out for bed and breakfasts. There's a ton of things that you can do. It doesn't need to be addressed right now.

"What does though, are your assets. There's a branch right in town, of my bank. It's one of the biggest banks in the country, so you'll always be able to access your money. As far as getting investments... whatever... we'll find a really good financial advisor to help you with that.

"But for now, you can transfer some of your liquidity into an account here. I don't know how much you think you might need, but I'm sure it won't be a problem. My bank is really good with helping customers, so as soon as we get back, we can get the ball rolling on that."

The woman looked absolutely lost at our discussion, and to be honest, I had forgotten that she was even standing there.

"Oh, I'm sorry; I didn't mean to drag you into the middle of a family discussion." I apologized. "I got so engrossed that I totally forget you were there."

"No, it's okay." she responded. "It's just that you were talking with the President like he was your brother, and now there's all of this political cloak and dagger stuff with antiques and money and frozen accounts. I'm beginning to think it has something to do with your looking so familiar. It's like something out of a spy novel. Are you guys secret agents or something? I heard Sheriff Cody call you 'Special Agent.'"

"If we were, we couldn't tell you," I said with a smile, "so either way, the answer is no. I am a federal agent, yes, but it definitely hasn't been a secret for a few weeks now. I was asked to protect her and her daughter, and well, things went slightly astray."

"Slightly astray?!" Sophia giggle-snorted. "That's like saying Liberace was only 'slightly gay.'"

"Anyway," I continued, "it's been a long day, and we'd like to get an early start on the Road to Nowhere, in the morning. We're heading over to Cheoah Dam after that. I'm sorry for the disturbance, but I'm glad I was able to fix the door."

"Thank you again, and good night." the woman said with a nod.

I closed the door, and shivered a bit. It was beginning to get a little nippy out, now that it was dark, and the door had been standing open for quite a while. Fortunately, the heater in the front window was already running, so it wasn't too bad. Within ten minutes or so, it was nice and toasty in the room.

"Can I make a sandwich before I go to bed?" Sophia inquired.

"I suppose." I replied. "Don't eat too much though, or you might have trouble falling asleep."

"I was going to make a peanut butter and jelly, and a fluffer-thingy." she responded.

"That's too much." I advised her. "Pick one or the other."

"What if I make it all in one sandwich instead?" she persisted.

"You mean with four pieces of bread and three layers of filling?" I demanded. "How the hell are you going to eat that, Sophia? I don't think even Julia Roberts could fit her mouth around that thing. Tell you what: Make one of each, cut them in half, we'll split them, okay? Each one of us gets the equivalent of one sandwich, but both ways. And cut them evenly!"

"Okay." she concurred. "That's fair."

"You know, making them into a single sandwich DOES sound kind of good." I added wistfully. "Okay, let's compromise on a triple decker, like this: Bread, fluff, peanut butter, bread, peanut butter, jelly, bread. Make one and cut it diagonally. We'll try it together. Anyone else?"

"I'm still full from that ice cream sundae before." Portia stated.

"Me too." Reba admitted.

"Okay then, make one for the both of us, and Reba and I can go burn one while you're making it." I said to my daughter

"Okay, one for both of us." Sophia repeated. "So that makes two, then."

"It makes ONE!" I snorted. "But nice try, clever little girl."

I grabbed my headband from the table and followed Reba out the door.

"Oh my god, what a fucking day!" I burst out, as I lit up and exhaled. "I swear, Babe, I wanted to kill that stupid son of a bitch so fucking bad! I can't believe someone that dumb could pass BLET. It's over six hundred and fifty hours. Surely SOMEBODY would have picked up on someone that fucking stupid! Aarghhh!"

"It's okay, Hon." she said gently. "We all have bad days, but in the middle of the crap, we had a nice time at that rock shop, and then got some ice cream. Besides, look at all the traffic that's going to Portia's site. And what about that waterfall this morning? Tomorrow, we'll do some more driving; see some more things, and just enjoy the good parts. There are people having worse days than us, believe me!"

"Yeah, I'll bet the folks at CNN are pretty uneasy right about now." I acknowledged. "I mean, I know you're right and all... it's just like the cost isn't worth it, sometimes. It's like the curse of the monkey's paw. I keep waiting for someone to start banging three times on the door."

"Things will calm down." Reba promised. "You know how things are when they're new. Over time, these things will all phase out, and something else will replace them. You'll see. In the meantime, make the most of it. I'll bet you're going to start getting hit with some acting offers over all of this. Do it while you're hot!"

"I suppose you're right." I sighed, as I extinguished the cigarette and dropped the butt into a nearby pail. "I just thought I'd left this behind me."

"Get some sleep!" Reba ordered cheerfully. "Tomorrow's a new day."

I was surprised to find Sophia waiting for me, when we went back inside.

"Here you go, Daddy!" she said with a huge smile. "It was tempting, but I waited for you, so we could try it together."

"Aw Princess, that was very sweet of you." I said with a smile. "Okay: One, two, three..."

We each bit into our fluffer-nut-and jelly triple deckers, and were equally pleased with the results.

"Not bad." I said, nodding my head approvingly. "It's a little too much sweetness, but not bad at all."

"Good call, Dad!" Sophia said brightly. "I like it!"

"Peanut butter and honey is good too." I suggested. "Maybe we can try one of these with peanut butter, honey and fluff."

"That sounds even better!" she agreed.

We polished our portions off in good time, and we all readied for bed. As I reached over to turn the light off, my three companions began giggling in unison.

"What is it?" I mumbled.

"Look at the ceiling." Portia instructed.

We had all gotten into bed the same way that most people do; laying on our backs. We could all clearly one see one another laying in a line, in the mirrors above the bed.

"I've got to get a pic of this!" Reba snickered. "This is too funny. Everyone wave!"

She took the shot, and I turned the light off.

"Oh yeah." Sophia said confidently. "I definitely know what the mirrors are for, now."

I awoke around 2:00 AM, after an interesting dream. I say interesting; others would call it a nightmare. In the dream, a woman found guilty of something, had her hands cuffed to a machine, and suddenly started moving toward an area too small for her to fit through. Knowing what was coming, and not wishing to witness it, I fled, as did several other people who had magically shown up. Halfway down the hall, the screams began. Bloodcurdling screams, as what seemed like buckets of blood splashed all around us. I managed to get out of the area, and that's when I awoke.

"That was pretty fucked up." I muttered.

"What is it, Amore?" Portia mumbled groggily.

"Oh nothing." I replied, as I placed my arm around her waist and kissed her on the cheek. "Just had a weird dream is all. Rather gory and pointless. Kind of like a Quentin Tarantino movie."

"Are you okay?" she inquired.

"Oh yeah." I said with a wave of my hand. "I'll roll over and go right back to sleep. It was just weird as shit, like I said. I want to get up no later than Five, so if you wake up and it's after 4:30 or so, give me a poke, okay?"

"Okay Love." she said sleepily. "I love you."

"I love you too."

I felt the peace of sleep returning as I lay in bed, and was suddenly awakened by Sophia's cheerful voice.

"Okay Dad!" she shouted. "It's 4:30 on the dot! Let's go; rise and shine."

"Good morning, Princess." I replied, reaching over and turning the lamp on. "How did you know I wanted to get up now?"

"It's not like we couldn't hear you earlier." she explained. "I mean come on; you're like what, a meter away?"

We were up, showered and dressed, and had the car loaded by ten minutes after six.

"Not bad." I said, as we got in.

The air was as crisp as a nearly-frozen apple, but the car was already warmed up. I dropped the key into the old fashioned mail slot next to the office window on the way out, and got back in. I checked the thermometer on the dash, and wasn't terribly surprised to see that it was only 38 degrees out.

"Let's see if we can find a diner or something that's open." I suggested, as I pulled into the deserted roadway. "Oh look! Chik-Fil-Up is open. How's that sound?"

"Convenient." Portia replied.

"Sounds good to me." Reba added.

We were back on the road by 7:00, and officially on Lakeview Dr., better known as the Road to Nowhere, at 7:14. The sun was peeking over the trees occasionally, as we wound ever deeper and higher into the mountains, and occasionally crested a hilltop. From time to time, Fontana Lake appeared briefly to our left, and the warmer lake waters were covered in a thick layer of ghostly fog, as the cold morning air settled onto the surface. We stopped at an overlook, and decided to record a brief video to post later on, after we reached the end of the road. Suddenly, a deep, resonating boom echoed across the lake and reverberated in and out of the misty hills and hollows.

"What in the fucking hell was that?!" I burst out.

I expected to see a bright flash of light or even a mushroom cloud, but everything looked normal.

"Seneca guns, maybe?" Reba offered. "It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, at the same time."

"What are Seneca guns?" Sophia inquired.

"Oh, it's a name given to unexplained booms around the country." I explained. "They're named for Seneca Lake in New York, where they were first documented. People called them ghost cannons or naval guns. There's lots of places with them: Yellowstone, Moodus Connecticut, off the coast of North Carolina; maybe here in Fontana Lake... who knows? Anyway, it'll be an interesting addition to upload. It's cool that we recorded it. Maybe people will find it interesting. Well, let's continue. Only a few more miles to go."

We reached the barricade at the end of the road around 8:00 and parked. As I suspected, we were the first ones there, and had the place to ourselves. Then again, there was frost on the ground, and probably not a lot of brave tourists who wanted to be out in weather like this.

To me, it was fine. It would give me the chance to start dropping my body temperature for the season, and adapt to the chill. The thermometer now read 35 degrees, and I nodded in agreement at the dashboard.

"It'll be a lot warmer a little ways inside." I remarked, as I stepped into the sharp autumn air.

A shiver hit me, as the cold enveloped my body, but then I started to adjust, as I focused on the temperature.

"Aren't you going to put a coat on?" Portia inquired. "It's cold out."

"I'm not certain." I responded. "I'm trying to drop my temp by a degree. As long as I keep my ears covered, I should be okay."

"How do you do that, Dad?" Sophia asked curiously. "Do you think you could teach me?"

"That's like asking Superman to teach you how to fly." I replied. "It's just something that you have to learn to sense and adjust. I can tell you what I'm doing, but I can't guarantee you'll be able to know what else to do."

"It's worth a shot." Reba remarked. "Maybe it runs in the genes."

"Okay," I agreed. "Relax and feel the cold penetrating your body. You'll feel it most in your kidneys. You'll probably shiver for a second, but ignore it if you can."

We all gave a huge shiver, and I continued.

"Does your skin feel tingly, like the heat is evaporating, and warm blood is stimulating the cold skin? Just relax. Let the cold penetrate you and focus on this happening if you can."

"Oh yeah!" Sophia whispered in a shocked tone, as we all gave another huge, involuntary shudder. "I can feel it now. I still feel the cold, but it doesn't feel as cold. This is weird. Can you feel it, Cousin?"

"Ooh yeah; oh wow; this IS weird!" Reba exclaimed. "I feel comfortable. I feel chilly and comfortable at the same time. How is that possible?"

"Congratulations, Grasshopper!" I exclaimed. "I didn't know you could do it."

"Me neither!" she admitted. "This feels so weird, Jack!"

"You'll find that once you do this each year, you'll actually be the most comfortable when you're slightly chilly. Sophia, how do you feel?"

"Comfy!" she said in a surprised voice. "A hat and gloves, and I think I'm good to go. Wow Dad, you were right! There's no way to teach this. How do you feel, Mama?"

"L-liiike I-I'm fr-eezing my f-fucking ass off!" she replied through chattering teeth. "Cristo s-santo, fa un fr-freddo cane qui fuori! (Jesus Christ, it's fucking cold out here)!"

"Here, put a coat on." I said, as I reached for her winter coat on the seat. "I'm sorry, Sweetheart. I guess there's no Krypton in your genes."

"How in Mary's name are you doing that?" she demanded. "Sophia! Reba! How?"

"I don't know, Mama." she answered in bewilderment. "It's weird, like Reba said. It's something you just do. Remember that kid I went to school with a few years back, that could wiggle his ears? None of us can do that, but he just does it. Like you or I would raise a finger."

"That's a pretty accurate comparison." Reba concurred. "That was weird alright!"

"Keep your ears covered and you'll be fine." I advised. "But that's also your Kryptonite. No hat and you'll go down quick. Gloves are like an elephant's ears. That's how you regulate how hot or cool you get. Start out with them on, and take them off to cool down or use your fingers for something dexterous."

"You sure are different!" Portia marveled. "In so many ways. And to think that Sophia can do it too. Are you an alien, by any chance, Guy? Hey, wasn't that guy on 'Lost in Space' named Guy too? That's funny."

"Not that I know of." I replied cheerily. "But who knows? Aryan could be a corruption of Orion. Maybe everyone with dark hair and colored eyes has a little bit of alien DNA. Doesn't really matter. You two have the gift; so use it wisely. Don't ever count on it though. Always have something to put on, unless you're dead certain you can get back. Are you warm enough now, Poppy?"

"Yes." she responded. "Now that I'm wearing a wool coat and hat. Like I SHOULD be!"

"Al-righty then!" I exclaimed, as I slid my Anaconda into the holster on my hip. "Let us venture forth into the unknown."

We walked past the barricade and into the tunnel.

"Hello!" I called out; my voice echoing infinitely ahead of us and back. "Well what do you know? I hear my own voice greeting us back. I guess the road to nowhere leads to me!"

"That was bad, Jack!" Reba giggled. "Oh my god, that was SOOO bad!"

"I don't get it." Portia said. "Oh wow, you were right, Jack. It IS getting warmer in here."

"It's a line from an Ozzy Osbourne song." Reba explained. "Leave it to him, to figure a way to make a pun out of it."

"You wanna hear something spooky?" I asked mischievously.

We were near the center of the tunnel and it wasn't completely dark, but it was pretty dim.

"Probably not, but go ahead anyway." Portia responded.

I let out my rendition of the barred owl calling out, "Who cooks for you? Who cooks for you all?" and it echoed almost nonstop in either direction for close to ten seconds.

"Whoa, that WAS kinda creepy!" Reba murmured.

"I do it every time I come through the tunnel." I explained. "It sounds different if you do it near the end, too. It's just kind of a ritual for me. It usually creeps everyone out who happens to be inside at the time."

We continued walking for a few more minutes, and exited into the sharp mountain air once again.

"What a difference!" Portia exclaimed. "It was like being in a cave. It must be twelve degrees in there!"

"I'd guess fifty eight to sixty." I responded. "I don't know how that compares to your New World Order degrees, but I remember fourteen being comfortable in the early morning."

"Fourteen is about fifty eight." Sophia offered. "So you're both pretty close in your guesses. Hey; this looks like a nice spot to do the video. The lighting is perfect, with the mist drifting through the trees."

Portia and Reba got the phone ready, while Sophia and I picked our relative positions for the shot. We ended up with the tunnel framing our background nicely, and a quick pan would show the sun's rays poking through the mist and remaining foliage.

"Hello everyone, and good morning!" Portia greeted those who were already tuning in.

Her breath was clearly visible in the frosty air, as were the rest of ours as well, and it added to the feeling of the scene.

"We are currently at a very interesting location this morning; the famous Road to Nowhere. We had a very interesting walk through the tunnel behind us to get here, and emerged from the tunnel to this:" she said with a wave of her arm.

Reba panned to the right, and the sight was absolutely gorgeous. Pencil-thin beams of dappled sunlight stabbed through the broken canopy and fog; creating a surreal world. I almost expected to see an elk, bear or even a bigfoot come striding out of the glowing mist.

"I am loving this country more and more, every day." she sighed. "Now, I will let Jack tell you where we are, because I have no idea!"

"We are about fifteen to twenty miles outside of Bryson City, North Carolina." I explained. "We took the Road to Nowhere until it ended, which is on the other end of that tunnel. The acoustics in there are incredible, by the way. Why don't we film the walk back out? I can yell in there or something, and everyone can hear the way the echo just seems to draw out.

"Anyway, as you can see, it's a little crisp out here this morning. I love being able to see my breath! Portia is a little chilly though, as you can probably tell by the coat she's wearing. I checked the temperature as we left the car, and it was thirty five degrees. I guess it's dropped that final degree by now, so around thirty four. That would be what, one or two degrees in Europe?

"It was pretty warm inside the tunnel in comparison, and then back out here, into this amazingly clear mountain air. This is mostly deciduous hardwood forest, around here, but at higher altitudes, you get into the balsam and Fraser firs. It smells like Christmas! I'm hoping we can get up there before it snows and they shut the Parkway down.

"So I guess what we can do now, is to take a tour along this pathway for five or ten minutes, so I can show you what our forests look like around here. Then, we can take the shot of us going back through the tunnel.

"As you can see, we are slightly past peak for the foliage, but the leaves still have plenty of color left in them to be able to spot the different species more easily, than at any other time of year. Typically, they are all either alive and green, or dead and brown, but now, each species has a certain color or colors, that make spotting and identifying them much easier.

"You'll notice that the ground is predominantly orange, which is due to the amount of sugar maples at this elevation. We can also see darker reds, maroons and even solid browns. Red maples have a dark red color... ah! Here are some!"

I picked a leaf up, and held it in front of the camera.

"You can see when I compare it to a sugar maple, the differences are quite obvious. It's not just the size or the shape that's different; look at the color! You may also occasionally see a silver maple as well. Those are bright yellow, and very easy to distinguish in these forests.

"So now, I want to be on the lookout for the other main genus we are going to see out here; the oaks. I'll be looking for brown leaves now. While there are dozens of oak species out there, they all fall into one of two categories, and those are either red or white. The easiest way to identify whether an oak is red or white, is by the leaves. All white oaks have rounded lobes, and all red oaks have pointed lobes.

"For now, I'm just going to scan for oak trunks, and I can see right over here, is a white oak. It has gray bark with a tight checkering pattern, There should be some leaves aroun- there we go! Now, you can see that the lobes on this leaf are rounded, so this leaf matches that tree.

"Where there is one, there is typically the other, so now I'm looking for a tree with smooth blue bark, and black, rough, vertical ridges. I see one! Babe can you get a shot over there. Yeah, see it? Okay, that is very clearly a red oak, so as we get closer, I'm looking now for a brown oak leaf with sharp lobes, and there we go. See here, the difference?

"Well, it's about time to turn around and head back. I hope I haven't bored anyone with the little nature tour, but I love sharing my knowledge of nature with others. I guess I'll turn the show back over to the actual hostess, who would of course, be my wife. Sorry, Sweetheart. I didn't mean to hijack the video."

"No, I like learning about things like the outdoors, and you are such a good speaker. You'd make a great professor, I would think." she mused.

"I would make a horrible professor!" I retorted. "I'd be like Sam Kinison in 'Back to School' or something. 'Who do you think you are, coming into my class with ideas like that, you little pussy? I've fought terrorists in hand to hand combat! I know what these people are like! I've killed those motherfuckers with my bare hands in the middle of the fucking woods!' Oops- got a little carried away! Let's edit that part out, shall we?"

Portia laughed.

"No, I think we'll leave it in, and just cover the words." she responded. "It was kind of funny. As I was saying, I've learned things here today, and Jack is right; it's nice being able to share them with you. Sophia, is there anything you would like to add?"

"No, I like learning about this stuff too, and I think others may too." she replied. "I guess we'll all be back to continue, when we return to the tunnel."

"Why don't you finish hosting this, Guy?" Portia suggested, as we returned to the rocky opening. "I mean, I was good at talking politics, but this is your area of expertise."

"You don't mind?"

"Of course not!" she replied energetically. "This is all about sharing our trip. It's not a contest. If we stop at a museum, I'll be glad to take over and tell everyone all about about the Italian art!"

"Okay." I said with a laugh, as Reba pointed the camera at me.

Sophia had dashed up the steep slope to the right of the entrance, and was now peering over the top of the large blocks of gray North Carolina granite across the top.

"We are back at the abandoned tunnel." I explained, as Reba zoomed out a bit. "As you can see, my daughter has decided to do a little climbing. Be careful Princess! C'mon back down, okay?"

Reba panned the shot upwards, and Sophia waved back, before making her way back down the steep, well-worn path. She rejoined us and grinned.

"What a view!" she exclaimed. "You don't realize how big this tunnel is, until you have something to compare with for size."

We stepped inside and I began to speak, as we passed a lot of graffiti on the walls of the man-made cave.

"I have a tradition, every time I come here." I explained, as we walked along the rough layer of asphalt. "I get a little ways in, and then I do a barred owl call. It sounds really spooky, because the tunnel makes the sound continue as a solid noise. I do it again in the middle, and then it echoes in both directions. I hope the phone will pick it up."

"I can adjust the pickup, if you'll let me know." Reba offered.

"How about right now?" I responded.

I let out my barred owl call, that has drawn so many birds in over the years, and from the other end, a voice called out.

"Hey, that was pretty realistic!" he hollered. "Sounded creepy as hell with all the echoes."

"I'll do another one when I get to the middle!" I called back.

Reba had turned the flashlight on her own phone on, so we could all see fairly well, and it was all showing up nicely on camera. Soda straw formations were already beginning to form on the ceiling, as the tunnel was already fifty five years old, and calcium-rich groundwater seeped in from above.

We were nearing the middle of the passage, and I decided to play a joke on everyone; including the audience. I quietly and unobtrusively unfastened the flannel shirt that was loosely tied around my waist, and slipped my arms into the shirt. When no one was looking, I quickly put the shirt on, leaving it unbuttoned, and then quickly shirked it off to a point at my waist, where I could instantly pull it over my shoulders.

The idea was to do my barred owl call again, and then when the camera was on everyone else, suddenly let out a screech owl scream, and raise my arms to look like a pair of wings. It would be priceless!

"Here's a good spot!" I said, as I saw another light approaching us about fifty feet away. "I'll do it from here. Since we're in the middle, I won't cup my mouth and do it in one direction. We can hear it echo each way evenly."

Obviously, I couldn't cup my mouth, because my hands were in the sleeves of my flannel shirt. Everyone bought it though, and I let out the kitchen question again.

"Oh my gosh, that is so creepy!" Portia commented with a shudder.

"Hey Man, that sounded cool as hell!" the same guy from earlier called out, as he and his girlfriend or wife approached us. "I used to volunteer at a raptor center, and that sounded real! Have you ever tried it out at night?"

He had a distinct New Joisey accent, and I decided to pick a different recipient of my prank instead.

"All the time." I replied, as we reached each other. "I call one in regularly. He's a friend of sorts."

"He sure helped out the other night." Sophia remarked.

"He sure did, Princess!" I exclaimed. "I couldn't have broken that guy's neck the way I did, if he hadn't clamped onto his arm like that."

"You broke someone's neck?" the young man inquired nervously.

He looked more intensely at me, and noticed the Anaconda's grip poking out around the flannel shirt on my waist.

"Um, are you carrying a firearm?" he inquired nervously.

"Sure am!" I replied crisply.

"Are you a police officer?" came the next question.

It's one I typically cannot stand, as it implies that you have to be a cop to carry a gun, but I had already decided to have fun with his guy, and answered him differently than I normally would.

"Actually, I'm a federal agent," I informed him, "but that doesn't matter in these parts. EVERYONE carries around here. Especially at night. And in old mines, and tunnels like this one. Anyplace it's dark. Like in here."

"What the hell is he doing?" Reba thought to herself. "I know he's fucking with this guy somehow!"

"Why?' he asked; glancing around furtively.

"Mothman!" I said passionately. "Haven't you heard?"

"I thought Mothman was in West Virginia." his female companion interjected.

"Oh, it's here too!" I asserted. "He hangs out in dark corners - like up there - and then he lets out this horrible, bloodcurdling shriek before he opens his wings and grabs you!"

The man and his partner looked toward the top of the walls, and I seized my opportunity. I let out the loudest, most spine-tingling impression of a screech owl that I have ever done, and halfway into it, I suddenly raised my arms. In the dim light, with the shirt hanging wide open and loose, I resembled a massive winged creature about to attack.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ!" the man screamed; stumbling backwards and nearly busting his ass. "Oh my fuckin' gawd!"

This was the time that everyone realized it was a prank, and started laughing.

"Holy fuckin' shit; you scared the fuckin' shit outta me!" he panted, leaning over and placing his hands on his knees to help catch his breath. "Jesus fuckin' Christ!"

"You walked right inta that one, Joey!" the woman laughed.

"Sorry." I said with a grin. "I was going to do it to my daughter, but you fell right into the plan instead. I'm Jack, by the way."

"Joey." he replied. "This is my wife, Susan. Jesus, Man! You sure got my adrenaline going. Lucky we used the can before we left the motel, or else I'd have had an uncomfortable walk back to the car. Holy shit, the Forest Service should hire you hide out in here and do that for Halloween!"

"We were recording for a stream later on." I said to the couple. "I thought it would be funny to do to my daughter and record it. I can leave this off if you'd like."

"Naw! It was kinda funny." he responded. "Where can we go to see it?"

"@PMPortiaLeoni." Portia interjected. "Should be up by tonight, unless something else exciting happens."

"Okay, let me type a note to myself so I remember it." he said, as he opened an app on his phone. "What was it again?"

Portia repeated the link, and he typed it in.

"Seems kinda familiar for some reason." he mused. "Oh well, nice meeting yous guys."

"Oh my god, is he going to be surprised when he gets cell service again!" Reba snickered, as soon as we were out of hearing range. "Jesus Christ, Jack! You scared the daylights out of me too!"

"All of us, I think." Portia added. "I certainly wasn't expecting it!"

We exited the tunnel and into the shade of the hill around us. Ahead, the sun shone brightly, and the air was noticeably warmer as we stepped into the light.

"Definitely don't need this now!" I exclaimed, as I waved my flannel shirt around. "It's beautiful out."

"It still feels cold to me." Portia remarked ruefully. "But I don't mind. I get to wear winter fashion that you can't! Nyah, nyah, nyah!"

"The bank opens in five minutes." I said, as I checked my watch. "We can hit it on the way through town. Then head toward Deal's Gap."

The trip back down to town was uneventful, and after asking for directions, I located the bank. I glanced around as we entered the front door and smiled. It looked like it had been built back in the 50s, and even smelled old and musty; like an old library. It sure brought back memories of banks from when I was a kid.

"May I help you?" a teller inquired, as we reached the counter.

"Yes," I replied, as I opened my wallet and produced the check. "I'd like to cash this please."

I slid the check, along with my driver's license and account card, across the counter. The teller picked everything up and glanced at my license.

"You're a good piece from home." she observed. "What brings y'all this way?"

"Oh, we were just looking for a pack of cigarettes and some chips." I responded nonchalantly. "We took a few wrong turns along the way. Nice town."

The teller seemed taken aback by my remark, as she figured I would likely just answer the question. She didn't know that I was aware of this tactic. It's used if they run into someone who seems suspicious for some reason, although I couldn't figure out why I looked suspicious.

"Is there a problem?" I asked pointedly.

"It's just that you're from out of town, and this check is for a lot of money." she explained.

"So?" I queried. "That's clearly me, and you can see from that card, that I've been a member of this bank through three name changes and the same number of decades. The writer of that check is also a member of this bank. In fact, this is his home branch, so all you have to do, is confirm that the funds are in his account, and then hand me -- how do you want this, Princess?"

"Twenties please!" she answered.

"A bunch of twenties." I finished.

"I'll need to have my manager approve this." the teller informed me.

"Oh, for Fuck's sake!" I growled. "Fine!"

She picked up a phone and dialed a number.

"I have a customer here that wants to cash a large check. He's from out of town, and I'm not sure what to do. Should I call the issuer and confirm? I need to get your approval on this, please. Okay, thank you."

"She'll be right out." the teller explained.

"Wonderful!" I said with feigned brightness.

I was aware of someone passing behind us, and then walking around the end of the counter, but wasn't paying too much attention.

"Jaaack?" a female voice inquired gingerly.

I looked up, and was stunned to see a teller that I had known several years ago.

"Natalie?!" I exclaimed in astonishment. "Oh my god! Come on around!"

I rushed over to greet her, and we hugged one another warmly.

"I went in one day and asked what happened to you, and Sarah said they'd lost you. It was during the Covid damnpanic, and I thought you'd died!" I gushed. "She told me that you were just transferring up. How have you been?!"

"Good!" she replied. "I'm a manager now, and I've been going around and filling in all over the state, but a position finally came up in Poker County, and my husband and I have always wanted to live in the country, so I took it. I start next week. Cindy, cash this man's check. He's been a member of this bank since before you were born."

"Where in Poker County?" I inquired. "We live there. By the way, this is my beautiful wife, Portia, and our lovely daughter, Sophia. And this is my gorgeous niece, Reba."

"Very nice to meet you." Natalie said, and shook everyone's hand. "The branch in Montvale. Are you familiar with it?"

"Very. It's our local branch now." I said with a smile. "Welcome to town, Neighbor."

"Oh, that will be so cool!" Natalie said enthusiastically. "We bought an older brick ranch over on Three Branch Farm Rd. Once we get totally moved in, we'll have to have you over. Wow! I know someone in town already!"

"Here is your money, Mr. Fawkes." Cindy said quietly. "I'm sorry for the confusion."

"It's hers." I replied, and Sophia reached up for the envelope.

"You'll have to come by for dinner yourselves." I said to Natalie, as Sophia carefully slid the thick envelope into the front pocket of her jeans. "We're in the hills up behind the funeral home."

"Bobby said there was a heck of a commotion up that way the other night." Natalie remarked. "Roads were shut down and everything. I even heard a rumor that the President flew in on Marine One, because a secret agent that works for him killed a bunch of people. Something about a terrorist attack, and some politicians were involved. I don't know what's true and what isn't. Do you know anything about it?"

Portia and I exchanged glances, and I nodded.

"Yeah," I said, taking a deep breath, "I do. Quite a bit, in fact. Perhaps I should reintroduce my family. This is my beautiful wife: Prime Minister Portia Leoni, and our lovely daughter, Princess Sophia, formerly of the Republic of Noritalia."

Natalie stared open-mouthed, as I reached for my ID.

"And I am Special Agent Jack Fawkes; Presidential Detail to John MacDonald." I added, as I showed her my credentials. "You are exactly the person we need to talk to, about transferring her assets over here, and opening up some accounts with this bank. Perhaps we should continue this conversation in your office."