Right about that time in the Erikson household there was a whole lot of sleeping going on. Stas was sound asleep on the foot of Jack’s bed, and Jack was right there sawing logs with him, while Howie was sound asleep in his room. It would be hard to say what Stas was dreaming of, but it was clear that both Jack and Howie were dreaming of their girlfriends.

Both Jack and Howie had been up late the night before. Jack had been busy updating his bird journal; he’d had several good days without the time to make an entry. Of course, the updating didn’t go quickly, because he’d been with Vixen while doing the observing, and the memories of her stole quite a bit of his attention – especially the memories of her nude out at the pond yesterday. How could he have ever expected that? Clearly, it put the pictures he’d taken of Summer and her friends far into the shade.

While he’d been working on the computer, Jack had been aware of Howie in his room, mostly from the beeping and bleating of the Nintendo. He wondered if his brother ever got enough of that stupid thing. Hell, he’d played Nintendo most of the day with Misty, and then after she was gone he’d played it some more. It would be real nice if Howie found something useful to do, he thought. Unfortunately, his brother had at best a casual interest in birds and would have trouble telling a robin from a sparrow.

But that was last night, and this was a new day, although Jack was not particularly aware of the time when the ringing of the phone started to penetrate his subconscious. It probably rang half a dozen times before some vagrant thought reminded him that it might be Vixen calling. He threw back the covers on the bed, waking Stas a little but not enough to matter, raced out to the hall in his underpants and grabbed the phone. “Hello,” he said sleepily.

“So much for that early-to-bed, early-to-rise stuff,” Vixen giggled at him. “So how are you today?”

“Vertical,” Jack snorted. “I said I was going to pull a Howie and I did. So how did it go?”

“No problems,” she said. “It’s going to be a little longer than eight weeks because my period gets involved, but not too much longer. Then you’re really going to lose some sleep. Better stock up now.”

“What? Uh, oh . . . ”

“You really don’t wake up quick, do you?” she giggled. “Well, I’m back. I’m going to change into something a little more casual, and then I’ll be ready for you to pick me up. Are we still going to work on my computer files today?”

“Yeah, here or your place,” Jack fumbled.

“How about your place?” she suggested. “Mom’s in the john right now, but I think if the two of us were messing with my computer she’d be checking every five minutes to make sure we weren’t rushing things.”

“Works for me,” he said, getting a little more clearheaded, and becoming aware of the ache in his bladder. “I’ll be over in a little while. I, uh, have some getting around I need to do before I can come over.”

“Go use the bathroom and get dressed, then,” she giggled. “I’m in no great hurry, but I’ve had all I want of my mother’s lectures about my sex life for a while.”

“I’ll be there as quick as I can,” he promised.

As soon as he hung up the phone he was headed toward the bathroom, and realized that it really was an issue. Shit, Vixen really had him taped! Here he was, not out of bed for two minutes yet, and he was already behind the eight ball. Women really did have a conspiracy to drive men nuts, he’d seen proof of it on Friday. He did his business in the bathroom, and then decided to have a shave; he felt a little prickly, and it was something Vixen probably wouldn’t appreciate. He pulled out his electric razor and started in on his face, making a mental note to shave before he took a dump next time. Even after the flush the bathroom still smelled pretty rank.

Back in his room, he pulled on some shorts and a T-shirt, then a pair of sandals since it seemed likely that they wouldn’t be going out in the boonies for a while, and he’d have the opportunity to change if they did. He headed down to the kitchen to get himself something to eat, but thought better of it; they’d be back shortly, and Vixen might appreciate it if he rescued her sooner rather than later. Besides, she’d be better company for breakfast than an empty chair, he thought. He tempered the thought by starting a pot of coffee; it could brew while he picked her up.

He went out, got in the Jeep, and got going. He was halfway down the block before he remembered that he’d planned to take Stas with him when he went out in case he ran into Frenchy, but on thinking about it realized it didn’t matter a whole lot. This was just going to be a quick trip to Vixen’s, and after all, he had two cans of bear spray in the box next to the seat. Like he’d told Howie the night before, he really didn’t want to use it, but if two cans of the stuff didn’t back Frenchy off it was unlikely something more powerful like, say, a .44 Magnum would do the job.

Jack had hardly pulled the Jeep into Vixen’s driveway when she came out the door, carrying a denim purse over her shoulder, once again dressed in short shorts and a tight tube top with spaghetti straps. It really made her shape stand out, and he watched appreciatively as she walked out to the Jeep. “Took you long enough,” she smiled.

“I told you I had things to do,” he told her. “I mean, I could have come in the nude. I know you would like that but I doubt your mother would.”

“Hell, if I knew what my mother would like anymore, I’d probably do it,” she said, tossing her backpack into the back of the Jeep.

“So how did it go with the doctor?”

“All right,” she said. “There are some things that doctors like to examine that aren’t a lot of fun for a girl, but I survived. Look, we talked about it some, just the doc and me. The pill isn’t absolutely one hundred percent perfect. There’ll be times of the month that should be fairly safe skin to skin. But there are still going to be times that we’re going to want double protection if we’re going to stay out of the baby-making business. I’ll just have to be the one to tell you when. I hope you can live with that.”

“Your body, your nickel. I’ll do what you want me to.”

“After yesterday, and after listening to my mother this morning, what I want to do is not what I have to do,” she shook her head. “Thank Christ we’re going to be talking about birds up in your room, because with that bed close by I might not be able to help myself.”

“You might want to remember that we’ll have Howie and probably Misty close by too,” Jack smiled.

“Yeah, that could turn into a foursome awful quick,” she shook her head. “I swear, to look at them, Misty is about as ready to go as I am.”

“Aw, just a little teenage infatuation,” Jack countered.

“Teenage infatuation my little round ass,” she grinned. “You were the one who said it was just buddies, not a boyfriend-girlfriend thing.”

“So I was wrong,” Jack said. “Hey, I’m a guy, I’m not tuned into that kind of stuff.”

“Bullshit,” she replied bluntly. “You can lecture me for half an hour about the mating habits of the Kirtland’s Warbler, and you can’t pick up on the mating habits of the American teenager?”

“Birds are predictable,” Jack laughed. “Teenagers aren’t, and you know that as well as I do. Hell, we’re both teenagers, and we don’t even know what we’re doing half the time.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” she smiled. “But I’ll tell you what, looking at those two last night it wouldn’t surprise me if they beat us to the punch.”

“I’ll agree with you there,” Jack said. “I had a little talk with Howie after we got home last night. I didn’t exactly tell him to keep his pants zipped, but I did tell him to be damn careful, and if he needed anything like condoms, I’d front for him if he was too embarrassed to do it himself. At least we’re being responsible about it, and sometimes I wonder if Howie even understands what the concept of responsible means. Of course, I have to point out that I was pretty much the same way two years ago.”

Vixen smiled and nodded. “Considering the way we’re all over each other now, I don’t even want to think what it would have been like if we’d flashed on each other two years ago. Probably about as bad, though.”

“Yeah, probably,” he said. “Hey, like I said, I gave him a can of bear spray last night, along with a big lecture on how to use it and why to not use it. I hope he doesn’t get into a situation where he has to use it, but it might give him an edge, once.”

“It might make Frenchy think twice before bothering him again,” Vixen pointed out.

“Yeah, but what happens at school? There’s no way any of us could carry it there and Frenchy will know it. Of course that queer we have for a principal likes to kiss the jock’s asses, so we’d be double screwed. You did bring yours, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, that’s what the purse is for,” she said. “I’ve never been much for carrying a purse, but it is handy when you’ve got something like that. I just hope I can avoid getting it all full of junk. The usual girl stuff is one thing, but a whole shit load of it is something else.”

“Yeah, I’ve never figured out what all girls carry in their purses,” he said. “It has to be a girl thing.”

“Oh, yeah,” she said. “I mean, there’s useful things, like, oh, wallet, hairbrush, maybe spare pads if it’s that time of the month, bear spray, and like that. But I’ll tell you what, I have seen girls pull some of the damnedest things out of their purses.”

“Condoms?” Jack asked.

“Sometimes,” she giggled. “Mary Lou Kempa carries a pretty good supply. I mean, it strikes me that most guys would like to date a girl who carries condoms in her purse. I mean, there is a thing about being prepared, and all that.”

“Does that include you?”

“Not yet,” she giggled, “but that’s only because I haven’t been near a drug store yet.”

“I almost hate to say this,” Jack said, “but I made the offer to Howie, and I’ll make it to you. If you want some and you’re too embarrassed, I’m willing to front for you.”

“I’ll think about it,” she grinned. “I just need to think about what it says when a boy is ready to buy condoms for his girlfriend to carry in her purse. Like maybe he wants her to use them, or at least have them used on her. Which I will admit, I can hardly wait until that happens.”

Ashley Kielhorn was one of those girls who carried condoms in her purse in the hopes that they might get used on her, although she wasn’t one to let anyone know about them being there. In fact, she’d been carrying them for a couple years, and had never come close to needing one. Over the years, she’d fantasized about several boys needing them put on just before they had their way with her, but they remained just fantasies.

Ashley had slept a little late that morning, but once again was out on her back porch, cell phone in hand. This morning she was wearing a football jersey – a hot weather jersey that was mostly mesh below the shoulders, with the number “69” on it. Of course, she wasn’t wearing anything under it, and if anybody had looked they could have seen everything she had. Fortunately, as far as she knew, no one was looking, but if they did, it might not be all that big a thrill, anyway.

It was a slow morning on the gossip circuits. It got that way in Spearfish Lake in the summer, so she wasn’t surprised. The word had gotten around that Frenchy had gotten his car fixed, so he was back on the road, although not having wheels for a few days hadn’t slowed him down much; his buddies had been pretty good about giving him rides. It was a little strange that he got four new wheels and tires, so Ashley, and a good many other people that she talked to, assumed that some poor guy had come out of his house somewhere to find his car sitting on blocks.

The big news, as far as Ashley was concerned, she’d observed from her window on the community, the pickup window at the Frostee Freeze. She’d picked up a lot from there, but last night she’d been surprised to see Mary Lou Kempa sitting at a table with Nancy Halifax, each of them with cones from the soft ice cream window. The school tramp and the school lesbian! She couldn’t help but wonder what they’d been discussing. It was too far for her to hear, especially with the noise around the pickup window, so that was a real shame. Mary Lou didn’t look too bad, though. She had a ton of makeup on, so it was logical to assume that she was still a bit bruised.

The best news, but some that she wasn’t ready to share, was that Lyle Angarrack had stopped by the pickup window for a burger and fries last night. He’d hung around for a couple minutes and she’d been able to chat a little with him – nothing major, just that he hadn’t been doing much for the summer, but at least a reason for her to give him a call some time. She still wasn’t real hot on the idea of trying to get something going with Lyle, but he was available and probably could be persuaded if someone were to approach him in the right manner. He really wasn’t a catch like some of the guys around the school, but right at the moment he beat what she had.

Hell, there was nothing to keep her from calling him up right then. She had the phone in her hand and wasn’t doing anything. Still, there was a reluctance to do it – was Lyle really the kind of guy she wanted to go out with. On the other hand, who else was there to go out with? Something beat nothing, no matter how you cut it.

Her indecision was cut short by a call from Laurel Haeussler. They talked desultorily back and forth for a while, with Ashley passing along the news about Mary Lou and Nancy, and with Laurel noting that Summer Trevetheck’s car had been parked at Alan Jahnke’s house all afternoon and into the evening.

“Boy, wouldn’t it be strange if the two of them got together?” Ashley said. “Mystic Summer and Straight Science Jahnke. There’s an unlikely couple for you.”

“That’s what I think,” Laurel said. “I mean, it might just be something they’re working on together, but what could it be? After that kiss Sunday night you about have to think that they’re sniffing around each other more than a little. Hell, there’s another possible guy gone. The pickings are getting a little slim, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, they are,” Ashley agreed. “Oh, well, maybe something will happen.”

They talked for a while longer passing the day’s news back and forth. Shelly Battle had been seen riding around in Scotty Parson’s car, but they weren’t snuggled up or anything. It seemed unlikely that the two of them would get anything going, but a spite fuck couldn’t be ruled out. Whatever else happened out of the spinoff from Saturday’s party, it all seemed destined to come out in time.

After Ashley clicked the phone off, she set it in her ample lap, and once again considered calling Lyle. Maybe it wasn’t quite the right thing to do, but she was getting a little bit tired of talking about other people’s romances, other people’s sex lives. She wanted a little of that for herself! Lyle was a possibility, but she still didn’t feel right about just calling him up and inviting him to ask her for a date. But still . . .

“I find this utterly fascinating,” Eloise said after Summer had explained her discoveries about Alan Jahnke. She was on the kitchen phone, while Rowan was on the one in the living room. “I mean, I always knew there were other traditionals out there, although I’ve never met one outside of our family. I’d like to talk to him sometime, but I’d really like to talk to his grandmother.”

“I would, too,” Summer agreed. “The thing is, Gramma, I don’t know how to handle this. I’d like to know more about it, but I can’t see how I can find out without revealing more about our Circle. I already feel like I pushed the line pretty hard as it was.”

“Yes, that does make it a little sticky,” Eloise said thoughtfully. “I certainly wouldn’t want you to reveal any more about the Circle than you already have, at least not without the whole Circle agreeing to it, and that’s not likely to happen. Our tradition for many centuries has been to keep the knowledge that the Circle even exists as secret as possible. There have been times that the line has almost died out without the secret being revealed. However, those are just our traditions, however valid they may or may not be in today’s world. It stands to reason that other lines of the Old Way may not have the same traditions. They may even be right, but who’s to say? There’s a saying, ‘If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it,’ and I don’t feel as if our traditions are broken. Even if they were, they would be difficult to fix.”

Summer let out a sigh of resignation. “You’re saying I should break it off with Alan then?”

“No, I’m not,” Eloise said. “It would be nice to know a little more about other traditions of the Old Way. We have been rather isolated and set in our ways. We talk down about Foundlings, but the fact of the matter is that some of them are both knowledgeable about the Old Way and very dedicated to it, perhaps more than some of us are. I’ve read a lot of the work of the Foundlings, and even talked to some of them. While some of what I’ve heard strikes me as useless, there is wisdom behind other parts of it. I imagine Christians have to sort through the wheat and the chaff in their own way to get down to their own beliefs, which may be why there are so many flavors of them. We may just be talking about something that’s akin to, oh, the differences between Methodists and Wesleyans, for example.”

“Huh?” Rowan broke in. “I have no idea of what those differences might be.”

“I expect that if you got a Methodist and a Wesleyan together they might not have any idea of it either,” Eloise laughed. “And that’s just my point. It could well be that there’s very little difference between the beliefs of Alan’s Circle, if that’s what they call it, and ours. Right now, there’s no way of finding out more except to find out more, and Summer, you are the only point of contact between our Circle and Alan’s, however dedicated to it he may be.”

“Well, yeah, I see that,” Summer agreed. “But it still doesn’t tell me how I can find out about Alan’s without revealing more of ours, even if I don’t want to. I mean, Alan saw me render honor to the Goddess with his athame, and it’s clear to me that he knew that I knew what I was doing.”

“So he knows, or at least suspects, that you know more than you admit to. Am I correct?”

“Yes, he about has to. In fact, I think we’re both covering up from each other a little.”

“Need I point out that being aware of the Goddess and being aware of the Circle are not exactly the same thing?” Eloise pointed out, wanting to pass along a teaching. “I mean, at this point, does he have any reason to suspect the existence of the Circle, or does he think that you’re just a Foundling who got her belief in the Goddess through casual interest, rather than being passed down through the family? ”

“Ohhhh,” Summer said as the light hit her. “You’re saying that I should, uh, sort of become a Wiccan, then?”

“If you’re at least a little careful, it would allow you to find out more about him without revealing the Circle,” Eloise replied, seeing that the point had been made. “At a minimum, it would give you the opportunity to find out how serious he is in his beliefs.”

Rowan broke in again. “It might be that he’s keeping them covered up a little,” she said. “Being a known Wiccan wouldn’t go over very well in this town.”

“That’s often the case anywhere,” Eloise said. “Don’t expect to find out everything right away. Go slowly, bring it out of him slowly, and reveal your Foundling beliefs to him slowly as well. If he is indeed initiated and serious about his beliefs, then we may have cause to allow you to reveal some of the depths of yours. We’ll have to be very careful about that, though. I suspect I may have to talk to his grandmother before we get that far, and we will certainly have to present it to the Circle. In any case, there’s no need to rush.”

“Thanks, Gramma,” Summer said in relief. “I’m getting to like the guy anyway. I don’t know if it’ll go anywhere in the long run, but since I’ve gotten to know Alan a little I’ve come to believe that we have a lot in common, and that was even before this came up.”

“Take your time, and be careful,” Eloise cautioned. “You may be moving into ground where I may not be able to give you a lot of advice. I can honestly tell you that I have no experience of what can happen in a romance between two followers of the Old Way. It might involve considerable power to have the traditions of two lines merged. I just don’t know, and am more than a little curious to find out.”

“I’ve thought about that a lot, Gramma,” Summer admitted. “It could be interesting.”

“Yes, it could,” Eloise smiled. “I envy you, dear. I thought there was something strange and powerful about your Venus Rite last week, like there was a hidden presence watching us and blessing us. To see the results of the Rite this quickly and in this way suggests that the Goddess was truly smiling on you.”

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