On the Saturday that Horizon spent in Honolulu Senator Harry McCallister flew from DC, landing behind his house long after midnight. The following week the senate was on recess and Harry came to Florida to reassure voters he was looking after their interests.

Harry liked getting an early start. On Saturday he slept until after noon. He wanted to see Ivan before the day's activities caught up with him. Instead, he'd catch Ivan between tours and whatever else was scheduled that day at the cove.

He didn't have any doubt that the problem had been taken care of. He wanted to reassure Ivan that he once again had his back. Ivan had done the country's business at a time when Harry was a congressman. All Harry could do was to request one of his voters did not disappear in the murky undercurrents of Southeast Asia.

Harry was always happy to be home. There was one mission in mind while he was flying the thousand miles home. He needed to see Ivan. A phone call wouldn't do in this case and Harry liked seeing what Ivan was up to at the cove.

Harry met with the director of the agency concerned the day after Ivan's call to him. He'd been invited to have lunch in the director's private dining room. It was the way business was done in DC. He didn't mind a free lunch as long as he didn't get indigestion.

The senator told the director, "Mason is not welcome at the cove. That's where I live. If he isn't gone by the time I get home, he'll be gone shortly thereafter. I'm holding you responsible to see it gets done. I want your assurance that you'll see to it," Harry said before the steward handed Harry his branch water and bourbon.

"Harry, we've always been friendly. Your tone is almost hostile," the director said with a smile.

"We'll continue to be friendly if you don't force me to become a hard ass and hold up your funding, Leo. We've always found neutral ground, up until this. Your people on my turf is not negotiable. See to it ASAP, and we'll be fine. You can go back to business as usual. The cove is my home and everyone in the cove is under my protection. If you have business with someone, you come to me with your request. I don't want any of my people bothered."

The director said, "I see. I'll look into the matter."

The director knew why Senator McCallister asked for the meeting. He'd met with him because he was a senator and the senate controlled the agency's budget. He didn't like being pressured by politicians. He was a Company man after all. Company men knew how the game was played.

Harry had met with another director of the agency nearly ten years before. He hadn't been invited to lunch. He was a newly elected congressman. He was lucky the director returned his call. The fact he agreed to meet with Harry was a gift.

At the meeting place, the director appeared from nowhere. After he told Harry the meeting was over, when Harry looked back to where they'd been, no one was there.

Harry didn't know if he'd make it back to his car alive. It was the scariest moments of his political career. He'd heard plenty of stories about how the Company operated. He didn't want to end up one of those stories Company men traded.

The game had changed. The worm had turned. Senator Harry McCallister might or might not return the director's calls. Leo's agency had no license to act within the borders of the US. They both knew the rules. One of Leo's men doing Company business at the cove wasn't Kosher. Directors had been fired for less.

Harry stayed for lunch. He had to eat somewhere. His parting was cordial with a half hug proving their friendship. The director would have been on the phone correcting the error before Harry slipped into the backseat of his shiny black car.

Harry didn't care about the power that came with the job, but it did come in handy from time to time.

He was a senator now. It was much harder to deal with senators and Ivan was the partner of the most important man in Harry's Florida world. Clay was the voice and heart of the Conservancy. Harry liked Ivan. He liked his father and he admired Ivan's grandfather, and he'd protect Ivan if he could. In this case he could. He was curious about why the Company man was camping at Ivan's campgrounds. Asking Leo why his man was in the cove would make him vulnerable. He didn't care why he was there. He wanted him gone; end of story. He was a senator and senators could do anything. No government official purposely pissed off a senator if it could be avoided. That didn't mean he didn't give his plane a thorough going over before he started the engines.

One can never be too cautious.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

Twila always worked when Harry was home. It didn't matter what day it was or how long he was home for. She ran the household staff and Twila cooked all the senator's meals.

She'd been all smiles that morning and once the senator was up, she sang while she cooked his breakfast. Harry never got enough of Twila's home cooking. He wanted to get an early start but that didn't happen. He wasn't rushing breakfast, even if he was running behind.

Twila cooked for Harry's father and she knew all of Harry's favorites. She shopped for a couple of days to have the right ingredients on hand for those meals. Of all her duties, cooking was the one she enjoyed most.

Saturday afternoon Senator Harry McCallister drove himself to the Dive, Surf, & Bait Shop. He would wait if Ivan wasn't there. The first thing on his schedule Saturday was the meeting with Ivan and he intended to talk with Ivan before doing anything else.

On weekends both Ivan and Tag were in and out.

Ivan was in the back of the shop filling air tanks after bringing four divers back from a dive on a nearby reef. They'd definitely made it worthwhile after he said no at first. Ivan didn't dive with them. He pointed to where the reef could be found, and while they were gone, he counted the hundred dollar bills they gave him to change his mind. They really wanted to go diving.

"Senator," Ivan said. "Take a seat. I'll be there in a minute. Coffee?"

"Of course and don't try to give me that day old stuff either."

Ivan laughed.

"Look, Ivan. I've done you a favor and now I need one from you," Harry said, moving his hand over top of the shiny mahogany desk.

"Anything but that, Harry. That's my baby. I bid a hundred and forty-three dollars American for that desk. I had a hell of a time getting it in here. That's when the shop was half the size it is now."

"You're a hands-on kind of a guy, Ivan. You don't need to sit behind a desk like this. I'd look super behind this desk in my study at the house. Think of how impressed my donors would be after seeing this beauty," Harry said, taking the coffee and sitting up straight.

"No can do, Senator. When I saw this desk, I had to have it. Can't believe it didn't attract more bids. Glad it didn't. I had to rob Peter to pay Paul to get this baby."

"Why didn't you just ask Clay to buy it for you. I pay him plenty," Harry said.

"I do not ask the man I love for money. Hell, I'm driving his car and I eat dinner at his house most nights these days," Ivan said.

"He lives at your house most of the time. Charge him rent when you need a little cash," Harry said.

Ivan laughed.

"I made a fresh pot when I came in fifteen minutes ago. I hope it tastes fresh," Ivan said, brushing off his hands before sitting down behind his desk.

"He's gone?" Harry asked, being sure he was.

"Yeah, he left Friday before I got here. I went over his campsite. Didn't find a thing. What happened on your end?"

"I put a call into the director the night you called. I didn't expect to get him. I'm a senator now and I knew he'd call in the morning, When I was a little fish in a big pond, he saw me out of the goodness of his heart. Now that I'm a big fish, he responds right away. He called the next morning to invite me to lunch. At lunch I told him what you told me. I told him if you were in any way bothered by this agent, I gave you permission to shoot him and I'd redirect the fallout after I hauled his ass up to Capitol Hill to explain himself."

"Damn, Harry, you think that was smart? Those guys don't answer to anyone."

"I can make things uncomfortable for the director if I choose to. They know that I got in the way of whatever they had planned for you the last time around. They have long memories and any light shined on what they do is too much. I know that and he knows I know that."

"Why was he here?"

"A mistake according to the director. Someone gave Mason the wrong instructions. He apologized for any misunderstanding it caused," Harry said. "I don't think he meant it and he wasn't going to tell me why Mason ended up in the Cove Campground. I knew it was a lie. He knew I knew and didn't care. I smiled and pretended he did exactly what I wanted him to do."

"Are these guys going to start showing up here. My reaction is going to be the same every time. I will kill one if he gets close enough for me to shoot. You should tell them I'm not playing around here. This is my home. It's where I plan to stay. They're not welcome here."

"I told him that I instructed you to shoot the next one that shows up here. You did what you signed on to do for them. They have no claim on you according to what I was told when you came home from Southeast Asia. They aren't to bother you. I won't allow it."

"He was here for a reason, Harry," Ivan said. "He's gone. The reason is still out there."

"I know that. They know I know. They aren't going to come at you again. They have been caught with one hand in the cookie jar. Whatever they were up to has been stopped. Go about your business. If anything like this happens again, call me. You have the number that only I will answer," Harry said. "Don't ever discuss these events with anyone. Not even Clay."

"Especially not Clay. You're going way above and beyond any duty you have to me. I appreciate that you've been there for me twice now. It isn't your headache, Harry. I'm the one who fucked up by getting involved with them."

"They do not have the authority to operate inside the US. I can burn them if they mess with you. I won't allow it and he knows I'll be in his way if they try again."

"You don't know how nice it is to hear you say that," Ivan said.

"You kidding me. I let anything happen to you and Clay would never forgive me. I'm just lucky he wasn't here when this happened."

"Me, too," Ivan said with a laugh. "He called from Honolulu. He knew something was wrong. I didn't tell him anything but he knew something was going on. I can't hide anything from him."

"Hide this. Tell him anything but what really went on. You're smart. You'll think of something," Harry said. "Where's Tag?"

"A Gulf cruise. Five bucks a head. He took nine people out."

"I'm in the wrong business," Harry said. "How long do you take them out for?"

"It's an hour, or a little more, depending on his mood. He takes them out far enough for them to lose sight of land. He doubles back down by the swamp grass ten or twelve miles south before he brings them back up the coastline. It's a nice ride and Tag likes doing it," Ivan said. "He's good with people. Everyone likes him."

"How much gas does it take?"

"Two gallons," Ivan said.

"That's two bucks. You're bringing in forty-five bucks. What do you pay Tag?"

"He gets a percentage. He works harder than I do. He made more than I did last year. I treat him OK," Ivan said.

"Where's the gun I sent down to him? He's not carrying it, is he?" Harry asked.

"No. He kept it on him while he was in the shop. It's on the shelf back here. You want it back?"

"Yeah, no point in leaving it here. It'll be at the house if anything like this happens again. His mom will know where it is. Where's yours?" Harry asked, expecting to be told it was at the house.

Ivan bent both knees and the pistol was out and pointed toward the front door before Harry realized what was up.

"Damn, Ivan, remind me never to draw on you," Harry said.

"Your CIA in action. They taught me everything I know about guns. I never thought I'd carry a gun. Sure glad I had it. Made me feel way better about Mason living next door," Ivan said.

"Put it away. Leave it at home. If anything like this happens again, you know my number," Harry said.

"You aren't just a little bit scared of those spooks, Harry?"

"Who, me," Harry said, slipping his hand inside his suit jacket and removing a chrome plated .38. I got nothing to be afraid of."

"When did you start carrying?" Ivan asked.

"The night you called. I'm no fool. If they dared make a move on a sitting senator, well, they'd be finished as an organization. I believe in being careful. My chauffeur carries. I'm not without protection. In this day and age, you've got to protect yourself."

"When did politics become a contact sport?" Ivan asked.

"By the time JFK and RFK were killed, any liberal player realized that there were people out there who would like to see them dead. A lot of very liberal politicians were forced to change their stripes when it came to wanting to do the job the way the Constitution specifies, they learned to do it more silently. Standing out front is dangerous."

"So those assassinations were warning shots to a certain kind of politician," Ivan said.

"I like that, Ivan. I should hire you to write my speeches for me."

"No thank you. I'd rather go up against the company than to have anything to do with politics."

"You've hurt my feelings. I happen to be a politician."

"Yeah, I know that, Harry. You're a politician with a mission. You are there to try to do something about man's capacity to shit on everything and then complain about the smell."

Harry laughed. "I like that."

"Clean water and clean air are hardly something someone is going to shoot me over. I don't feel threatened until I'm dealing with federal agencies that have unlimited budgets and all their work is done in the dark. Even when we call them in front of our committees, they tell us zip. I know they don't care what anyone says. They intend to do precisely what they decide to do. No one knows what that is."

"It isn't healthy to make waves with people like that. It can be added to my list of things I wish I didn't know," Ivan said. "You be careful, senator. We need you out there. I'm just an entrepreneur doing his thing, which doesn't amount to a hill of beans. What you do might make the difference in whether or not man has a future."

"Don't worry about me. You take that gun home and leave it there. I don't want someone being able to say you drew first," Harry said. "Tell Tag I've got his gun. It'll be at the house and I'll show Twila where I keep it. If any more of those birds show up here, call me. Let me know before the situation becomes critical."

"Will do, Senator. Thanks again," Ivan said as Harry left the shop.

Ivan looked at the phone and he remembered the second disconnect before hearing the dial tone. He dashed for the door and caught Harry getting into the jeep he sometimes drove to the cove.

"Do you suspect your phone is tapped, Harry?" Ivan asked.

He explained why he asked. He hadn't called Harry back to alert him on the tap because whoever was listening would hear.

"Ivan, I assume that no conversation I have is confidential. I'm a politician and there are forces in our government that are kept secret from even the politicians that authorize their activities," Harry said.

"How do you keep sensitive communications private?" Ivan asked.

"Like we just did it. We meet for a face to face. We sit at one table in a restaurant and then get up to sit somewhere else. If they have planted listening devices at the table we're given, once we move they can no longer hear us. It's not easy to find privacy."

"Why do you allow it?" Ivan asked.

"Comes under the heading of things I can do nothing about. I refuse to let them make me paranoid. I'm careful. That'll need to suffice for the time being."

"You're not making me feel any safer, Senator," Ivan said.

"No one is ever completely safe. There are hazards everywhere. We do what we can to assure our safety, but accidents do happen."

"I suppose. Doesn't hurt to be careful. Thanks again, Senator."

"My work here is done," Harry said. "Ivan, I've been given professional assurances that you are out of it. You will not be approached without the director coming to me and asking permission. You can relax. I've got your back and they know that."

Harry closed the door and the window hummed as it came down.

"I'll keep you posted, Ivan," Harry said, starting the car and backing into the street above the shop.

Ivan stepped into the road to watch Harry drive 500 yards north and turn into the Sanibel Island Conservancy's driveway.

"United States Senator Harry McCallister has my back," Ivan said, shaking his head as he walked back to the shop's front door.

Life could become weird sometimes.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

After leaving the galley, Clay walked back to his cabin. He was surprised to see Dylan in his cabin reading.

"Hey, Kiddo. I figured you'd be out playing by now," Clay said.

"I was at a place where I needed to find out what happened," Dylan said.

"You've lost your fascination for the Pacific?" Clay asked.

"It lost some luster after we went to Honolulu. I didn't expect it to be so beautiful. I thought we lived in the most beautiful place in the world. Now I know there are other beautiful places," Dylan said.

"You want to move to Hawaii?" Clay asked.

"Dad, it was beautiful. I didn't expect it to be that beautiful. I wouldn't move away from the cove if you paid me. Hawaii is nice but it isn't home. I live in the best place on earth."

"You're adopting Disney World's slogan?"

"That's the Happiest place on earth, Dad," Dylan explained.

"Oh, I was close," Clay said. "You'd seen pictures of Hawaii before. I guess it has a bit more color than where we live," Clay said.

"I take pictures, Dad. I know what I see when I shoot a picture. It's never as beautiful as when I see it. It's a reproduction of what my vision sees. It's one dimensional. This is live and in living color. In case you haven't noticed."

"Vincent is going to be heartbroken when he hears that. He'd probably be suicidal," Clay said.

"Vincent who?" Dylan protested.

"Vincent van Gogh. If you look at a sixteenth century painting, you see something different than if you look at a photograph of the painting. The photograph is an image of the painting. The painter had no other way to capture the scene. You can capture the same scene in an instant, but would anyone prefer seeing a photograph or the actual painting?"

"Dad, it's the twentieth century and we take photographs. In the sixteenth century they painted. Time moves on."

"I suppose you're right. It is a different time, isn't it? You surprise me sometimes, Dylan Olson-Aleksa," Clay said.

"How's that?"

"Your grasp of the world you live in. You're a kid growing up in the middle of nowhere. The knowledge you have is scary. You've never been exposed to music or art but you understand its place in a historic perspective," Clay said."

"I'm limited by the books I read and then, I've got to consider what an author is telling me," Dylan said.

"Anna Karenina? What was the author saying there?" Clay asked.

"I only read it because Aunt Lucy left it lying around. I don't pretend I understand the thinking of a nineteenth century Russian author, Dad. It was a bit wordy and full of the kind of passion people think they love. I might read it again at some point. See if I can figure out why Tolstoy was saying what he said," Dylan said.

"You do know Aunt Lucy left Anna Karenina lying around so that her nephew would pick it up and read it," Clay said.

"I never thought of that. It makes sense. When I wasn't reading some of the world's great literature, Aunt Lucy was reading it to me. I think some of my favorite times from being a kid was when I snuggled up next to Aunt Lucy and she read to me. She'd read a few pages and hand me the book when she started a new page. I read for a few minutes. Aunt Lucy pronounced the words I didn't know for me. I guess that's how I learned to read. As for what I read, Aunt Lucy and Harry always gave me books at Christmas and on my birthday. I suppose that shaped my taste in literature and how I think. I can't be certain that's the case, but it makes sense to me. I like to read."

Dylan knew he was lucky. He missed the mother he never knew. Mama, Aunt Lucy, and Twila mothered him for as far back as Dylan remembered. None tried to take his mother's place but they were always there in her stead. He didn't recall ever feeling alone.

"A senator and state legislator furnishing your reading material. Does that mean you're going into politics?" Clay asked.

"Dad, I'm going into what I've already gone into. I'm going to be a filmmaker. I'm going to photograph what my father does. He's going to take my pictures on speaking engagements with him. He'll show them to hundreds maybe thousands of people who come to hear him speak. That's what I'm going into but I've already told you that."

Clay knew there wasn't going to be a good time to tell his son what he'd done. He decided to spit it out and get it over with.

"I tried to pay Logan for the guitar he gave you," Clay said.

"You what? He was going to give it to Sidney Peacock, because he said he plays. I asked for it if he was going to give it away. He said he knew by the look on my face while I watched him that I'd probably take it if he offered it to me. He was just making sure."

"You know me, Kidd. I have a sense of right and wrong that comes from Mama and Pop. If someone gave me a substantial gift, they'd have had a million questions about the guy doing the giving."

"Don't put this on Mama and Pop, Dad. You have a way of complicating things that aren't that complicated," Dylan said.

"I wondered if you noticed that. I do what I think is right."

"Dad, I'm going to have a life of my own. Wanting to film your work doesn't mean I want to be you. I don't want to be you," Dylan said. "Especially, I don't want to be you right now. I'm going to go up on deck to cool off. Then I'm going to find Logan and apologize to him. You stay here and think about it. I'm not speaking to you at the moment."

"Your old man isn't as bright as people think. I insulted Logan without really trying. He didn't like it. If he says something to you, tell him you're in the process of house breaking me. I was way off base. Bill told me so and he left me alone to think about it."

"I've got to apologize for you to Bill too?" Dylan asked angrily.

"Afraid so," Clay said.

"Logan is too classy to mention it to me. You've got to get a grip, Dad. We aren't home. You can't hold my hand in front of professional people. I'm planning to learn a lot while we're on this trip and you're going to let me do it."

"When I was fifteen I was living at Ivan's house. Mama and Pop were sure Nick Aleksa was living in the house with us. He wasn't. He lived on the Vilnius II. He came once a month with groceries," Clay confessed.

"And you're worried about a guy giving me a guitar? You do know you're a hypocrite, Dad."

"Not really. When I was living with Ivan, I was my mother's son. You're my son. That's an entirely different ballgame."

"You need to give me some room, Dad. I can't breathe," Dylan said loudly. "I'm going up on deck now. I have nothing else to say."

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

Logan came on deck with one of the new 16mm cameras that were waiting for him on the Horizon. Bill had supplied the film lab with the latest models of the equipment Logan used in his own film lab. There would be no learning curve. He merely needed to become familiar with the new features on the latest models.

Mostly he'd filmed the ship and the sea at this point and he was filming some of the same shots a final time. This would be the footage that appeared in the documentary as he established the Horizon as the ship carrying them to where the research would be done.

Logan carried a white sheet of paper that flapped on the morning breeze. It was a list of the shots he wanted. If he filmed them in a logical order, he'd need to do less editing. He had a week to prepare for this day and he came on deck planning to shoot for about an hour.

Captain Hertzog watched the filmmaker come into view as he walked forward, stopped, filming as he moved to the port side and then he walked to the starboard side. He turned forward to capture the bow as the new day was well under way.

Logan stood under the catwalk filming the bow as the bow was rising, and then falling back toward the sea. It was a relatively calm day but at twenty-two knots these shots would be dramatic.

Logan walked forward keeping the camera up to his eye. Once he stood as far forward as he could go, he shot straight down. Lifting the camera slowly he then swept from side to side before letting the camera drop to his side, hanging from its tether as the filmmaker seemed to be paying his respects to the vast sea he'd been filming.

While he was filming forward, Dylan appeared to the Captain's right. Dylan watched the same scene Captain Hertzog was watching. He made no attempt to move forward or to let Logan know he was there. Once the camera hung down to Logan's side, Dylan went to stand beside him and they started talking.

After Clay spent time thinking about how to best approach Logan from then on, he decided to go to the galley to see if Bill might be there. They had planned to talk about Bill's work from the year before. When he didn't find Bill in the galley, he went to the bridge to see if he might be there.

"Good morning, Clay," Captain Hertzog said. "You should come see. Your son is working with Logan. He's been filming from the deck."

Clay stood beside the captain as he watched Dylan filming forward and then to the starboard side. The tether of the camera was still hooked to Logan, but Dylan didn't move away from his side.

"Clayton, I went looking for you," Bill said, stepping onto the bridge. "Morning, Klaus."

"Morning, Bill. How are you this fine morning?"

"I'm fine, and you?" Bill asked.

At that instant a sudden commotion on the deck caught the captain's attention.

Logan's arms were waving frantically after turning toward the bridge. He drew his hand across his neck several times.

"He's asking me to do what?" Captain Hertzog said as Logan unhooked the leash to the camera, running toward the bridge.

Clay stepped onto the catwalk to hear what the filmmaker was saying. He immediately stepped back onto the bridge.

"He says cut the engines. Something is in the water," Clay said.

"He's serious," Bill said. "Look at his face. What's he saying?"

Bill stepped onto the catwalk with Clay right behind him.

"I'll play along with Mr. Warren, but if this is another one of his pranks, he'll pay for making me cut the power.

The captain was less than amused. He'd only had his engines running properly for a short time on this voyage. Captain Hertzog knew better than to turn the four engines off. He switched the system into neutral after dropping her speed.

A minute later Sidney Peacock rushed onto the bridge.

"Captain, the power has been cut back. What's wrong?" Sidney Peacock yelled in a panic.

"Let's find out," Captain Hertzog said as he and Sidney crowded out onto the catwalk to stand beside Bill and Clay.

By this time Logan was trying to put the lifeboat into the water and he was having trouble doing it. Just then Dolf rushed onto the deck to see what happened to the power.

"Help him, Dolf," Captain Hertzog yelled his son's way.

Sidney Peacock was immediately climbing down from the bridge to be on the main deck.

Logan ran into the inside passageway and disappeared.

"What the hell is he saying, Dolf?" Captain Hertzog asked loudly.

"Something in the water, Pop, I couldn't understand him," Dolf said as the lifeboat splashed into the water.

Logan rushed back on deck with a huge butcher knife in hand. He went straight over the side dropping feet first into the lifeboat while still five feet above it. His frantic energy focused on starting the engine of the lifeboat. He yanked and yanked to get it to fire.

"Go help him, Dolf. See he doesn't hurt himself," Captain Hertzog said with dread in his words.

Greek rushed onto the deck.

"That fool took my butcher knife," Greek yelled.

Sidney, Greek, and Rolf stood in a scrum as Clay climbed down from the catwalk to see if he could find out what was going on.

Logan's bizarre behavior was worrisome to Clay.

Logan threw the piece of paper he had in his hand into the water to mark the spot where he'd seen the porpoise struggling. It was now floating on top of the water and he pointed it out to Dolf.

The Horizon kept drifted forward long after the power was cut.

Clay stood among the crew members as they tried to figure out what had that boy acting so crazy.

"He said, 'A porpoise is tangled in something.' He grabbed my biggest butcher knife," Greek was saying. "I paid five dollars for that knife in Singapore last year. I want that knife back."

"A porpoise is tangled up in something," Clay said. "He's apparently going to try to cut it loose."

Clay spoke upward and toward the catwalk as the lifeboat's engine buzzed away. Dolf turned the boat toward the white sheet of paper Logan pointed out.

The paper still floated on top of the water and Dolf stopped the boat in time for it to drift up to the sheet of paper.

Logan jumped into the water with the butcher knife in his hand.

The Horizon continued drifting further and further away and it became harder and harder to see what was happening.


Send Rick an email at quillswritersrealm@yahoo.com

On to Chapter Twenty-One

Back to Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Index

Rick Beck Home Page

"The Gulf and the Horizon" Copyright © 2022 OLYMPIA50. All rights reserved.
    This work may not be duplicated in any form (physical, electronic, audio, or otherwise) without the author's written permission. All applicable copyright laws apply. All individuals depicted are fictional with any resemblance to real persons being purely coincidental.

Home Page | Authors | Stories by the Writer Suggested Reading | Suggested Viewing | Links Privacy Policy | Terms of Service Send a Comment All Site Content © 2003 - 2024 Tarheel Writer unless otherwise noted Layout © 2003 - 2024 Tarheel Writer