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Sylvia’s lament crumpled as she looked up at her brother. “Arturo? You’re alive?” Flying to hold him close, she sobbed the news. “Rebels came early yesterday to take me, and when Father and Mother tried to drive them off, they attacked the nest and killed all the unborn. Then they said we would never see you again. We thought you were dead!”
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“Rori Aideen O’Shay,” she corrected him, holding out her hand, “an’ I’m not ashamed ta say it.”
Bowing as deeply as his bandages would allow, Vernon took her hand and pressed his lips to it. “Now I know why your children are so beautiful.”
Fergus laughed. “Were ya thinkin’ I musta brought ya ta the wrong family?”
“I thank’ee kindly, Mr. Vernon,” Rori Aideen smiled as she wrapped Fergus’ arm around her shoulders and snuggled at his side, “but the finest qualities our children possess come from their fahther.” Her smile vanished in an instant and tears welled in her eyes. “I hope ye’ll forgive me rude behavior earlier, but I was so worried we’d lahst him…”
Glad you could join us for the next free episode of Elliot’s Adventures. If you’re new here, you can catch up by returning tothe beginning, and reading really fast…
Without a word, Fergus leaped to the call, leaving Vernon surrounded by a passel of curious hoplings.
“Me name’s Quinn. What’s yers?”
“Where do ya live?”
“Watch me! Can ya do this?”
“Why’re yer legs so skinny?”
“What’s that stuff on yer chest?”
“Did ya bring us any treats?”
Vernon held up his hands. “Hold on a moment. One at a time, please. First, let’s have some introductions. My name is Vernon. We’ve already heard from Quinn, so let’s go down the list.” He raised an eyebrow at the next one. “You start.”
I grew up in the ’50s and ’60s. Most of our staple TV entertainments were shoot-em-up Westerns and shoot-em-up Detective shows. Especially in the ’50s. My formative years. The hero shoots the bad guy. The bad guy falls down dead. No blood, no twitching, no ugliness or remorse.
Then John F. Kennedy was shot to death, and the world was shocked. Two days later, live on national television, we watched Jack Ruby shoot and kill Lee Harvey Oswald. Up close. Live. Dead.