Lulu M. Sylvian's Blog, page 3
July 29, 2024
An Improper Derailment Chapter Thirty Three
Start the adventure from the beginning.
“Are you certain we’re headed east?” asked Mary.Captain Forsyth made an affirmative grunt.
She sank into herself. Overwhelmed with sudden exhaustion and emotion she couldn’t put a name on, Mary curled into a ball in the bottom of the gondola’s basket and more passed out then fell asleep.
Marshall adjusted her shoulders, putting his folded up coat under her so she wouldn’t wake up with a crick in her neck. He looked up at Captain Forsyth and back down at Mary before returning his gaze to Forsyth. “I think she has the right idea. There’s not much we can do is there?“
Captain Forsyth shrugged. “I never was much for sailing, but I didn’t think the air currents would be much different than on water. I’ve been getting bandied about up here for weeks gradually making my way farther and farther west. It’s as if the heavens know when I need to restock and they send me back to Kansas City.”
Marshall ripped off chunk of bread and popped it into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully, keeping his eye on the clouds, the position of the sun, and Mary sleeping. Returning to Kansas City wouldn’t be completely horrible. They could pick up a train that would then take them west. It felt like defeat after their hard earned gains of traveling through sauran territory. It also felt like a slap in the face of the help that they received from his friend.
Had Marshall been thinking, maybe they should have gone directly to Kansas City to pick up another train route. But as he glanced down at the sleeping form of Mary, he realized he would not have traded his time with her out in the wilds for a comfortable Pullman car. It was as if she was a completely different woman now, a woman he very much enjoyed the company of.
“So what is your plan for when night falls?” he asked Forsyth, who had been leaning on the side of the gondola watching the scenery beneath them.
“At night I lower lower the ship and cast onto a tree to keep me afloat.”
“So you never touch down?” Marshall asked.
“Not if I can help it, my boy,” Forsyth said. “Those nasty little saurans can jump. I certainly don’t want one of them in on board my ship again.”
“Again? Now that sounds like a daring adventure,” Marshall grinned. They had time while floating in the sky. And nothing passed the time like a good story.
Forsyth chuckled. “It sounds much more adventurous than it truly was. There was no instance of me wrestling one of the foul beasts as it snapped for my jugular.” He mimicked the actions as if he was warding off a snarling beast with fangs, rocking his torso back and forth in a wrestling motion. “The little devils leapt right over the edge of my basket and headed straight toward the food hamper. I dashed to the far side of the basket and immediately lifted off. I used the long boat hook to snag the hamper of food and hauled it over board. The hungry beast followed it right over. Like lemmings over a cliff. I make sure to never settle lower that six feet any more.”
Marshall chuckled at the tale. It wasn’t dashing and no one would write about it in a penny thriller. But it was the reality of survival. Use the tools you have to your best ability.
“It was a fine food hamper. I think at the time, and now that I recall that afternoon, I am more upset for losing the hamper than I am for losing the food that was in it. I had to go without my supper that night,” Forsyth exclaimed.
“Oh, I don’t know about that. I’d be willing to get rid of a great deal to not have one of those nasty little critters on the ship with me. Did you have to go back to Kansas City for provisions then? Do we have to go all the way back this time?” Marshall asked.
Forsyth shook his head. “There are smaller towns between here and there. I stop sometimes if I encounter one of them. I find a way to dock the shipping and take accommodations for the night.”
“That might not be a bad thought,” Marshall murdered. “But Miss Mary is going to need some new garments. I fear the damage to her skirt caused by the saurans who attacked us will cause her more distress than the actual attack caused.”
“I believe you could be right,” Forsyth agreed. “Maybe we will be able to find a small town with a dress maker. I’m sure she would hate to be confined to the ship while one of us found her dressmaker. Maybe we should go all the way back to Kansas City just to find her some ready-made clothes they do that don’t they?”
Marshall considered the old man for a moment, and then shook his head. “Can’t say I rightly know much about women’s clothing other than they wear it.“
It was sometime before Mary came back to her senses and woke from her rather unexpected nap. She stretched her arms wide and yawned before casting her gaze about as she took in her surroundings. Her expression fell. “So I guess it wasn’t a dream, and I wasn’t sunbathing on the deck of a cruise ship?“
Marshall grinned and shook his head. “No ma’am, but you are on the sunny deck of a different kind of ship…” he paused and turned to Captain Forsyth. “What is the name of your fine airship “
“Why, this is the Profound Name.”
“The Profound Name?” Mary asked with a giggle.
Captain Forsyth cleared his throat and cast his gaze down into the side. “Yes, well,” he began, “My young niece suggested the name and I greatly misunderstood her intention in that when she said I should give it a profound name. I thought those words were what she meant. And not that the name itself should be something epic and important. By the time I realized it, I had already registered the ship.”
“You’ve registered the ship?” Marshal asked. “With whom?”
“The Maritime Council, of course.”
“But it’s an airship.” Mary pointed out.
“Yes, but a ship is a ship,” Forsyth pronounced with great bluster.
“This is true,” Mary conceded. “A ship is this ship and we are floating above a sea of grass.”
Will Mary and Marshall get turned around? Tune in next time…
©2024 Lulu M. Sylvian
May 27, 2024
An Improper Derailment Chapter Thirty Two
Start the adventure from the beginning.
“What do you mean we’re headed east?” Mary demanded with a touch of alarm in her voice.She raised up and looked out over the edge of the basket. “No, no, no, no, no. I demand you turn this contraption around immediately.”
“It’s not exactly that easy.” The captain confessed.
“It’s a ship, you’re a captain. Make it do what you want it to do.” Mary’s stomach plummeted. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing ground and time, not after the progress she literally fought to make across the barren and dangerous terrain.
“Yes, well, sometimes the winds have other plans for me,” Captain Forsyth confessed.
“You just let yourself be bandied about? You’ll never get anywhere that way.” Mary’s voice was laced with panic.
“I thought you were a ships captain?” Marshall asked.
“Steamship my boy, quite a different beast. That one you simply point the prow in the direction you wanted and power forth.”
“You’re telling us you’ve never manned a sailing vessel?” Mary asked. She turned wide eyes to look pleadingly at Marshall. “Have you?”
Marshall shook his head. “If this had legs, and could be ridden, then I’m your man. But boats, no ma’am. I don’t like the ground rolling under my feet like that.”
“And how are you fairing with no ground under us?” she asked.
“I’m not thinking about that, is how.” He cast his gaze around the various items that were in and around the gondola with them.
A bladed fan attached to a rudder seemed to be spinning away. “What’s that? Can’t you steer with that?” Marshall pointed.
“I can only control shifts port and starboard with that. It’s not strong enough to push the airship against prevailing winds. I’ve been into the Colorado territory several times, but the winds coming down the Rockies always push me back to Kansas City. And then I try again.”
“Unless you are planning on taking this up and over the mountains, you should drop down farther south. Into Texas and then across,” Marshall suggested.
“But if the winds are pushing him east?” Mary started.
Marshall started to form large triangles with his arms. His hands swooped back and forth through space as he described his words. “I can only imagine that the wind acts like waves against the mountains. First flowing toward them, then getting caught up and gathering before sweeping back. Now if you go south, below the mountains, the air flow should sweep you down and past the continental divide.”
“By Jove, I think you’re on to something there lad,” Captain Forsyth crowed. “Mary this new young man of yours is infinitely more intelligent than that Peterson twit.”
“Pythagorus studied at the finest colleges this country has. He went to school with my sister’s husband, but I dare say you might be right,” she agreed. She wanted to completely agree that Pythagorus was a twit, but felt that might be slanderous. Charles was a bit of a twit, at least he was charming. Hmmm, were words slander if they were true? “I quite agree, Marshall is exceptionally intelligent.”
“Where did you study, lad?”
Marshall chuckled. He was pushing three and thirty, a fair bit older than Mary, and no where near being considered a lad by anyone else he ever met. “I studied down there. Out in the world. I stopped book learning when Pa though I was getting to high brow in my attitude. Mind you, I didn’t stop learning, I just got lessons a different way.”
“I dare say, you got the lessons you needed. We never would have lasted the last week if you had spent your formative years with your nose in a book,” Mary said.
“I enjoy a good book. And I can do proper enough arithmetic to know when someone’s trying to cheat me. My handwriting is next to illegible, but I can sign my own name.” Marshall’s words sounded defensive.
“That’s all fine. Wonderful really. But you knew how to survive, you taught me how to last the night when danger was out beyond the shadows. Had my grandfather trusted me to the like of Mr. Peterson, who knows what ills would have befallen me. Surely, I would have been a casualty of the train robbery,” Mary declared.
“If you were traveling with that Pythagorus fellow, I think you would have been a victim of something much more heinous before those brigands ever derailed the train.” Marshall’s eyes bore into Mary’s.
Hers went wide with understanding. She went pale and then began to flush furiously.
“I am very glad to have been entrusted to your capable skills then. For I am more than safe with you. I am protected.”
Marshall kept his gaze on hers for a moment longer and then he cleared his throat and looked at anything but her.
“How do you ride out the night in this contraption?” Marshall asked. “You don’t fly through the dark do you?”
Captain Forsyth grumbled for a bit clearing his throat. “No, no. I don’t fly through the night. A little bit later in the afternoon, I’ll drop down and drop anchor for the evening. Usually find a nice brace of trees to lash onto.”
“You don’t climb out and camp on the ground do you?” Marry asked with horror.
“Of course not. There are beasties in the dark that would like to eat us for a midnight snack,” he told her as if it were a great mystery.
Mary patted the burned edges of her diminished skirt. “I am very well aware. They almost had me for lunch.” She looked over the edge of the gondola, and out at the vista. It was lovely, but it was eastward bound. The wrong direction. “We won’t get to Kansas City tonight will we?”
“Not for several days. It feels like we are moving swiftly but we merely drift.”
She sat back down with a harrumph. The one dress she had was in tatters, they were days out from civilization, and they headed the wrong direction. She was still annoyed with Grandfather recalling her to San Francisco, but now for very different reasons. Her mind kept returning to Marshall’s words, something more heinous than her current predicament had she been in Pythagorus’s company… well, at least she was safe for now…
Or was she? Those dark clouds on the horizon did not look friendly.
Will Mary and Marshall get turned around? Tune in next time…
©2024 Lulu M. Sylvian
March 24, 2024
An Improper Derailment Chapter Thirty
Start the series from the beginning…
“My, my, child,” Forsyth clucked as he assisted Mary into the basket. “Your dress is a sight, I do say.”“You may say, and you may keep your opinions to yourself, sir. I have been living out in the wild my appearance is the last item of concern on a very long list of items.” She snorted delicately out through her nose and observed her new surroundings.
It was shaped much like a gondola in Venice from pictures she had seen. Yet it was woven like a maid’s laundry basket. A plank of study pine created relatively flat flooring.
Marshall rolled over the edge of the basket and lay with his back on the floor and his limbs staying where they fell. “Damn, your timing mister. That was almost too late.”
Distracted by the new man, Captain Forsyth turned his attention away from Mary. Her attention also went to Marshall.
“Your trousers! Are you hurt?”
Marshall lifted his head and looked at her, and then began laughing. His head fell back to the floor with an audible thud. “Ow.” He reached back and rubbed his head.
“Mary, you fussed at the good captain for rescuing us, and yet the first thing out of your mouth is to comment on my clothing. Woman take a look at your dress and then apologize to the good man.”
“Marshall you are in a state. Are you injured?”
“Of course I’m injured!” he bellowed. “I hit my damned head. Mary, are you injured?”
“Why on earth would you entertain that thought?”
“My dear, please,” Captain Forsyth began. “Your skirts are in a considerably worse state than the hem of your companion’s trousers.”
Bristling, Mary glanced down. She screamed as she saw the fabric of her pantaloons and the tops of her boots.
The goo the viscous sauran’s spit at her must have been acidic. The fabric was gone. There was a large section of outer skirt missing, and then her under skirts were shredded, and actively melting.
Suddenly Marshall stood in front of her, his hands on her waist. “Stop screaming. You need to get some of that fabric off before it hits your skin.
“I will not divest myself of clothing Marshall Hunt.”
“Divest yourself of your skirts dear girl, or whatever is eating away at the fabric is going to eat away at your skin,” Captain Forsyth said in a commanding tone Mary had never heard from the man before.
“Pish.”
“Mary,” Marshall chastised her with her name. “Normally I’d be inclined to protect your delicate nature from what I’m about to show you.”
“I’ve skinned a rabbit,” she said indignantly. How dare her assume she was delicate.
“A skinned rabbit is a far easier sight than a skinned man.” With a grunt of effort, Marshall tore his pant leg at the knee, removing the entire lower half of the rough fabric and tossing it over board
“You got some alcohol, or some water? I need to wash what I can off before it eats through the muscle and clear to my bones.”
Mary covered her mouth with both hands, too horrified to scream. Marshall had a gaping wound above his ankle. The hole seemed to be growing in size before her very eyes.
“Out of the way,” Captain Forsyth demanded. “And get your skirts off. Toss them over board. We don’t want that stuff eating away at my airship.”
Mary stumbled back as the captain unstoppered a jug and began pouring it over Marshall’s leg.
He groaned through clenched teeth. “That burns.”
“It burns going down as well.”
Marshall held out his hand, and the captain handed him the jug. Marshall tossed back a quick gulp before handing the jug back. “That’s definitely not smooth.”
“Homemade. Can work as fuel for the balloon in a pinch. How’s that leg?”
Marshall wrapped his hands around his exposed leg above the red oozing patch where skin had been. “I think it’s stopped. Douse me again for good measure.”
Mary stepped out of her skirts. Finding an untarnished area she ripped off a clean section of fabric with considerable more effort than Marshall had shown while ripping at his clothing.
“Here,” she said handing over a few strips of cotton.
She felt ridiculous standing in her pantaloons with only the apron and bustle that had created a fashionable look to her skirts. Fortunately they had not been damaged in the escape efforts. Mary still felt mostly naked, at least none of her skin was exposed.
Once she saw the damage to Marshall’s leg, she didn’t need to be told twice to divest herself of the tainted clothes.
Marshall soaked the fabric before binding his leg. When he looked back up at Mary, he grinned. No doubt entertained by the ridiculousness of her current state of dress.
“I’m afraid I look a sight.”
“I believe we both do,” Marshall answered. “Were you hurt?”
“Only my wardrobe and my dignity.”
Marshall barked out a laugh. “I’m surprised you have any dignity left after the week we’ve have. Captain Forsyth, a pleasure to meet you. Marshall Hunt.” He turned his attention from Mary and shook the captain’s hand.
“Welcome aboard. This has been the most excitement I’ve had in days.”
Tune in next time to find out if Mary regains her dignity or her skirts.
©2023 Lulu M. SylvianAn Improper Derailment Chapter Twenty Nine
Start the series from the beginning…
“Mary Dryer is that you? What are you doing out here in Kansas?”“Captain Forsyth? I can’t believe it.”
“You know this man?” Marshall asked with some shock.
“I do. He’s an acquaintance of my brother in law. Aren’t you?”
“How is dear Charles, and your sweet sister Janey?”
Mary bounced on her heels. She continued to block the sun as she tried to get a clear view of Captain Forsyth above them. He was a jovial older man with fluffy white mutton chops.
“How is it that we are out here, and you are having a polite conversation?” Marshall practically growled.
“Manners are always appropriate,” she responded.
“Quite right my dear, quite right. But your fellow here does have a bit of a point. How is it that we are both out here in the middle of well, in the middle of the middle?”
“It is an astounding story full of adventure and trials. I must say, it would take some time to tell it to you.”
“She could tell you all about it if we were up there,” Marshall pointed out.
“He is rather direct isn’t he.”
“Marshall Hunt where are your manners?” She chastised him.
“Do I have to remind you of where we are standing? We are not is a safe position to stand around and chit chat. Either your good friend up there has a refile and he can do some fancy shooting, or we need to go up there. What ever that thing is, we’d be safer on it.”
“This thing, as you call it is and airship!” Captain Forsyth proudly proclaimed. He threw his arms wide and then lost his balance as the basket he stood in swayed in the breeze.
The airship started to drift. Mary scurried under it, keeping pace. All thoughts of the terrifying saurans completely absent from her mind.
“Your air ship reminds me of the fantastical contrivances that Pythagoras Peters used to come up with.”
“You know old Py? Well, yes of course you do. That’s where we met the first time. I remember now. Fancy’s himself to be a gentleman inventor. Not sure I would necessarily agree…” Forsyth seemed to continue the conversation with mutterings to himself.
Busy as he was keeping an eye on the saurans darting around, Marshall had to scramble to keep up.
“Is there any way you can get this air ship of yours to hold still?” Marshall yelled.
“Hold still? Why I’m not moving you are.”
“Dear Captain, we are moving lest we loose you as you continue to drift. You called it a ship, might you have an anchor?”
“Smart thinking, Mary,” Marshall commented.
“Right, right, and anchor.”Forsyth began bustling about out of line of sight from the two on the ground. He leaned over the side of the woven basket, something clutched in his arms.
“Look out below!” He bellowed before dropping his bundle.
The anchor fell like the lead weight it was right next to Marshall’s face. He jumped before grabbing the excess rope and wrapping it around a rock out cropping. “That should hold it steady for a moment.”
Without having to worry about her footing, and having a conversation simultaneously, Mary took in the airship.
It resembled a rather enormous puffer fish strangled in a fisherman’s net, tethered to an excessively large laundry basket. Captain Forsyth scampered back and forth inside this long basket fiddling with ropes. There were so many ropes.
A set of fan blades rotated listlessly. She didn’t think they acted as a propeller of any kind. They seemed to barely be stirred by the air.
“It’s really quite amazing, don’t you think?” She glanced at Marshall, her eyes bright with wonder.
“I didn’t think you much went in for contrivances. I seem to recall you couldn’t get off that horseless driving contraption fast enough.”
“It was smelly, and it rattled about like an uncomfortable train,” she said with a sharp nod.
I don’t see any smoke billowing from this.” She gestured up.
“Oh look, I found a ladder. I don’t recall putting that there.” Forsyth continued to mutter.
“Did you say ladder Captain?” Marshall asked.
“Why yes, it it so I may disembark without landing.”
A swish sound caught both Marys and Marshalls attention.
“We need to get up there,” he said with some urgency.
“Captain, could we request to board by that very ladder? We seem to be in some peril at the moment,” Mary announced.
“Peril? Why didn’t you say, why I don’t exactly think a ladder is befitting a lady.”
“The ladder Captain! The ladder!” Marshall yelled.
A rope ladder unrolled in front of their faces. Marshall lifted Mary unceremoniously. She grasped on to the rungs. And stared down at Marshall.
“You don’t try to climb it with the rungs facing you. Twist it so it’s perpendicular to you. It’s less likely to swing out from under you. I’ll hold it for you.”
She hauled herself up the first few rungs and then clutched tight.
“You got this Mary, now get up there so I can climb up after you.”
There was a hiss behind him.
He turned to see a dark green sauran, about the size of hound dog. It had a frill of yellows and orange extended around its neck, and it hissed. “Shit, climb Mary, climb.”
The thing spit. A glob of ooze landed on Mary’s skirt that hung down just behind Marshall’s shoulder. He turned and watched in horror as the spittle ate a hole in her skirt.
She screamed.
Marshall kicked the anchor free and jumped on to the ladder. His hands a rung below Mary’s feet.
“Captain, can you make this air ship of yours go? We really need to get out of here!”
With another hiss, the sauran launched itself. Its teeth clenched around the bottom of Marshall’s boot.
He shook his leg, and then wrapping his arms around the ladder to a better grip, he began kicking at the small sauran. He didn’t mind the big, gentle ones, but he was really beginning to dislike these small raptors.
He kicked it loose. It hissed and screamed as if fell back to earth. The airship had, indeed, gotten them out of there, and it had climbed to great heights to do so.
Tune in next time to find out if flying suits Mary and Marshall.
©2023 Lulu M. SylvianMarch 16, 2024
An Improper Derailment Chapter Thirty One
Start the adventure from the beginning.
“I’m about done with excitement, Captain,” Marshall chuckled humorlessly.“It’s plenty quiet up here,” Captain Forsyth said.
“Quite sounds so refreshing.” Mary leaned against the side of the basket.
“Oh, don’t lean on that. I’m not convinced you won’t tip over.” The captain fussed at her.
With a defeated sigh, her knees seemed to give way and she sank until she sat on the floor.
“Dear Mary, have you swooned?” He asked, worry creased the part of his brow exposed under his cap and over his bushy eyebrows.
“I’m tired,” she complained. “We haven’t slept properly for days, and I’m hungry.”
“She’s right; we haven’t had much of a proper meal these past few days. The saurans in this area have kept us on our toes. I can’t tell if I’m more hungry or more tired. You’ve done us a solid service giving us a lift in this fine airship. Mary would scold me for asking, and I hate to impose on you further, but you don’t happen to have any food on board do you?”
Captain Forsyth had more than basic provisions. He presented a chest laden with smoked hard sausages, loaves of bread, a variety of cheeses, and dried fruits. There was even a considerable collection of fresh eggs, apples, and oranges.
“One doesn’t want to get scurvy, even in the air, a ship is a ship, and must be stocked accordingly.”
Marshall’s teeth sank into a crisp sweet apple. It was the best thing he had had for days, weeks even. He smiled as Mary ate like a small child with too many choices, and a complete inability to decide where to start.
She took a bite of an apple, bliss and delight crossed her face, and then she tore into a small loaf of bread and moaned with the decadence of flavors as she stuffed bread and cheese into her mouth. She put more food into her mouth, her cheeks puffed up like a chipmunk, eating more before the previous bite was finished.
“You don’t have any wine perchance?” She managed to ask around a mouth full of food.
“Only the finest.” Captain Forsyth had joined them, sitting on the floor of his gondola for a mid-air picnic. With the struggle of aged joints, he got to his feet and left only to return with a bottle.
“I’m sorry to announce that I don’t have enough glasses for us all.” He seemed to hesitate as he opened the bottle, unsure how to proceed.
Marshall reached out and snagged the wine away from the captain. He held the bottle out to Mary with a nod. She took it, wiped off the opening and drank straight from the bottle.
“We have learned to adjust, good captain,” Marshall said when it was his turn to drink.
With a hearty chuckle, Captain Forsyth took the bottle and lifted in in toast. “When in Rome.” He took a drink. “This is turning into quite the bacchanal. Don’t fear Mary, mums the word. No one will hear of this from me.”
Mary reached out and picked up the bottle. She took a drink and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. “I know I will appreciate that. It wouldn’t do for my grandfather to learn of my behavior, but at the moment I quite accept that I’ve gone quite feral. So long as my dear Janie doesn’t learn of my circumstances, all should be well.”
“It has been some time since I have been in the company of your delightful sister and Charles. Are they well?” Captain Forsyth asked as if this were any normal picnic on a Sunday afternoon in a park.
“She and Charles were doing well when I left. Of course Janie was almost as distraught as I was, being recalled to San Francisco with such short notice. My grandfather has certainly vexed me with this entire situation.”
When Mary’s gaze locked with Marshall’s her eyes went wide and she covered her mouth in shock. She began stammering. “I… I… I shouldn’t speak out of turn, gossip, even about oneself is unbecoming.”
Marshall laughed. “I thought you just declared yourself to be feral.”
“There is wild, and there is unmannered.” Suddenly she was sitting up with improved posture and her lips pursed together.
“I’m sorry I don’t understand. You’ve been recalled to San Francisco? Is your grandfather ill?” Captain Forsyth asked.
“He is very well, just meddling.” Mary closed her mouth as if making it clear she was done speaking.
“The old man went and got her betrothed. He hired me to make sure she got back to California safely. We have run into a few issues along the way.”
“Betrothed? Congratulations my dear. I had thought there was something developing between you and that dreadful Pythagoras. This is good news. I would be distressed to have learned you had settled for him.”
Mary gave the captain a small smile. It was clear she had not further interest in discussing the matter.
She hadn’t mentioned if for a long while. Marshall figured she had resigned herself to her grandfather’s decision. She certainly seemed motivated enough to survive this trek they ended up on, so she hadn’t given up. He had seen that a time or two. Some poor girl with her hopes and dreams shattered, unable to see any reason to continue living. But not Mary, she was fierce.
He hadn’t realized there had been something between her and that pompous jackass Pythagoras. Maybe an arranged marriage was a better solution.
“Where are you headed?” He asked in an attempt to change the conversation away from Mary’s obvious discomfort.
“I want to see the ocean again. I heard the views along the Mexican coast are perfectly lovely. I’m headed to Denver on this leg of my journey.”
“Oh, Denver. That’s where we were headed,” Mary said, sounding a good deal more interested.
“Denver you say,” Marshall drawled.
Mary cut a sharp glance at him. Her eyes demanded more information.
“Denver is west,” Marshall said again.
“Yes, I know,” the captain said.
“But we’re headed east,” Marshall pointed out.
Will Mary and Marshall get turned around? Tune in next time…©2023 Lulu M. Sylvian
