Chapter Thirty-Two (Part Two)

Chester returned from his final exam the next day, and did a quick check of his computer. He decided he wanted to trace the origin of the Latin messages that Melody had translated on his computer, so he did a quick run of his message tracer software. "1 Tesla Court, Strangetown," he said in disbelief. "This isn't good at all. How on earth did they manage to find me?"
He knew there was no way he could return there, and this lent more urgency to his campaign to graduate from ALT. He had to leave as soon as he could, for his own safety.
And he had to let Melody know just where those messages had come from. Since her number was on speed dial on his cell phone, all he had to do was press one button to reach her. And now that they were BFFs, she was going to answer his call regardless of the time of day or night.
Melody was furiously scribbling notes in her diary when the phone rang. Ever since that incident when she'd caught Marla reading it, she kept it under lock and key, in a chest in her bedroom, and wrote in it whenever she had a private moment -- which were few and far between these days.
"Hello?" she droned in her cell phone receiver.
"It's me, Chester. I found out where those messages were coming from."
As Chester proceeded to tell her, Melody's eyes widened in disbelief. "Are you sure it was you they were looking for?"
"Why else would they attack my computer? And in Latin, no less."
"Ches, I'm not so sure it was an attack."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, the messages themselves, about an obstruction in the front and a pack of wolves behind -- and the other one about people plotting against him -- seems like someone's in some kind of trouble."
"Who?"
"I'm not sure. You've only told me bits and pieces of what went on in Strangetown when you were a teenager. Perhaps it's the person you say the Beakers are holding hostage."
"But why would he reach out to me? I don't know him from Adam."
"The world wide web is a big place. It's how we met, isn't it?"
Chester managed a chuckle. "I suppose you're right," he said. "Still, why would he pick me? How would he get my ISP and IP protocol?"
"Who knows?" Melody replied. "There has to be some reason he wants to get in touch with you, and he chose the only way he knew how."


A media crush like Academie Le Tour had never seen before had enveloped the campus. People crowded around the cordoned off greenhouse to marvel at the 'strange new plant' sitting there. Television news cameras and reporters surrounded Aldrich dormitory twenty-four hours a day, shoving microphones into the faces of the students who lived there. In the midst of the circus, however, Chester and Melody stayed tight-lipped, only issuing blanket statements whenever they were asked questions.
Among the reporters was a particularly persistent woman who appeared to be of Indian ancestry. Melody had never seen her before and was so fascinated by her dark blue sari that she leaned forth to read her name tag, which read 'Priya Ramaswami.' Melody watched Priya walk around the dormitory, taking notes here and there.
It was the third day of the reporters' siege upon Aldrich Hall, and the atmosphere had become more stultifying than ever. Finally, Marla had had enough. "Mel," she said gently, "we need to talk."
Melody's smile was frozen like a grimace on her face. Her hand stung like crazy and she could feel her nerves still tingling beneath the skin.
"We've seen all the scars and lacerations, Mel." Edwin took Melody's hand gently, and pulled up her sleeve. A livid red bite mark shone from her rapidly swelling fingers. "We can't keep pretending any more."
"How did you know?" Melody asked, her lip trembling in unison to her entire body.
Edwin shot a glance at Marla and cleared his throat. "I was trying to catch some bugs for my pin board," he explained, blushing deep crimson, "I just happened to walk past that greenhouse, and....and..."
Marla gestured encouragement.
"It lashed out at me."
"What?!??" Melody was astounded. She was the only one with a key. "How did you get in?"
"I didn't. It slammed itself against the glass. It looked hungry and scared the pants off me."
"Are you serious?"
"C'mon, Mel. Would I lie to you?"
"I can't believe you people!" shouted Melody in disbelief. "First Chester, now you guys. Don't you get it?"
"We get it, Mel," Marla said. "We definitely get it. And we're worried."
Melody shrugged. "Worried? About what?"
"We're worried for you, Mel. We know after your classes you retreat to your laboratory and spend long hours down there."
"I enjoy it, it's what I enjoy doing. It's fun for me."
"That's the problem, Mel. You're enjoying it too much. You don't eat, you don't sleep, all you do is go to class and then go downstairs to the basement."
"Why are you so concerned?" snapped Melody.
"You're going to pass out from exhaustion. Look at you, you're pencil thin --"
Melody laughed. "I've always been thin, this isn't new."
"No, you're even thinner than usual," reminded Edwin. "This is serious, Mel. We're really worried about you."
Melody shrugged both of them off. "It's nothing I'm not used to. Besides, I think I might be on the verge of a breakthrough."


The Burbs, newly arrived to Bluewater from downtown, had no idea they were being pulled in different directions as a result of the titanic struggle of Malcolm Landgraab versus the Tinker family. Or that they were unwittingly taking sides in the matter. Jennifer, by working at Lawson & Lawson, was siding with Malcolm -- and then there was John. He saw a want ad put out by the Tinkers and decided to act.
After seeing Lucy off to school, John walked across the street to Wanda Tinker's porch and rang her doorbell. Wanda was in the middle of cleaning Harmony off when it rang, and looked somewhat bewildered. "May I help you, sir?" she asked in her politest voice.
"Yes," John began, "I've come in response to your ad."
"What ad?" Wanda asked absentmindedly as Harmony tugged at her hair.
"The one you put out in the paper asking for help."
"Oh yes, that," replied Wanda, as if she'd suddenly remembered. "Please, do, come in."
John was taken by Wanda's charming, graceful manner as he followed her into the living room. "I remember when mine was that small," he said wistfully as he reached over to tickle Harmony. "How fast they grow."
"Tell me about it," Wanda replied. "Her transition is coming up soon."
"Good," John says, "she should be going to school with my daughter. They could become great friends."
"I have another daughter in college," added Wanda.
John was surprised. "Really?" He was surprised Wanda was actually old enough to have a daughter in college.
Wanda ushered John to the backyard, where the register and the toy bench were, along with some half-empty shelves. "Ever since my husband died and Melody went back to school, we've been having some issues keeping toys in stock."
"I don't mind making toys," John said. "Gives me something to do with my time while my wife is at work and Lucy is at school."
"Good. Do you know how to make a toy brick?"
John laughed. "Um, I can try. They probably won't be the best."
"They don't need to be, it's a start. After I'm done cleaning up Harmony, I'm coming down. My employees should be here any second now."

Meanwhile, Melody walked to her bedroom and decided to check her messages. She played her mother's recording over and over in her mind. Ordinarily she wouldn't consider a trip back to Bluewater, but perhaps, she thought, a trip home was just what she needed.
Wanda approached Lisa in the checkout line of Amelia's Closet. Lisa was still in her hospital scrubs from working the night shift at Sim City General. She looked worn and haggard. Extending her arms wide, Wanda smiled, "How are you doing?"
Lisa reluctantly walked toward them and leaned her head on Wanda's shoulder. "I didn't think the divorce was going to be this hard," she sighed, "and Tessa is really struggling. There are only so many ways you can say 'Daddy's not coming home' without getting teary-eyed. She and he used to do everything together."
Wanda nodded. "Melody won't tell me, but she's suffering without Stephen too. I could see it in her eyes. Harmony, poor dear, it's almost a blessing that she's too young to understand what happened." Wanda took a deep breath. "The past few months have been hard -- on both of us. And I think it's strained our friendship."
Nodding agreement, Lisa walked up to the counter and put her purchases up so the young cashier could ring them up.
"But, I think it's time for a new beginning. Life is too short for grudges anyway. Hey, Harmony's transition party is coming up, you want to come?"
Lisa shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, Tessa's busy with her lemonade stand and with school and with her friends --"
"I know it's not going to be easy, but think about it. Okay? You have my number if you decide." With that Wanda left.
As much as Lisa wanted to hate Wanda, she couldn't help feeling that familiar warmth radiating from this woman.
If she hadn't spread all those malicious rumors around.
If she'd kept her mouth shut when Wanda spilled her fears about Melody.
If she'd only been more understanding.
Perhaps this would never have happened in the first place.
But there again, she should have seen the signs with Checo.
The long trips away without any contact. The expensive gifts lavished without a single glance...
Lisa sat in the car and wept. A heavy pall of desolation fell on her slender shoulders. It was true what they say... "Laugh and the world laughs with you. Cry and you cry alone."
She'd never felt so lonely in all her life. That horrendous feeling of abandonment crashed over her. And she realized just who her friends were and how much she'd hurt them.
How could Wanda forgive her, after all she'd done? All the gossip, innuendoes? While all this time, her perfect life was crumbling down around her?

Melody was early, as usual -- punctual to the very second and carrying a small parcel under her arm. Gaily wrapped, it appeared to be a pile of books.
"How predictable," mused Wanda, a wry smile on her face, "every birthday, and she sends books as presents."
Melody couldn't help noticing the effort that had been made. The streamers, balloons, even the homemade cake. Florence grinned widely.
"We spent all afternoon," she said, licking a dollop of frosting off her finger, "blowing up all these balloons."
The doorbell rang and Wanda cast a worried frown across at Flo who shrugged her shoulders in reply.
Easing the door slightly ajar, she was stunned to see Lisa Ramirez stood at the threshold, with a hastily wrapped present in her hands.
She shuffled uncomfortably.
"I.... er.....I," for once in her life, words failed her as she looked upon the wide smiling face of Wanda.
"Here," she finally said, shoving the present into Wanda's hands, "it's not much, just a pretty little sweater for Harmony, that's all."
"Why don't you come in?" Wanda offered, stepping back.
The warm lighting pooled on the doorstep as Lisa hesitated.
"Um, I'm not su....."
Wanda hooked an arm around Lisa's bony shoulders and guided her indoors. Grabbing a plate, she stuffed it full to the brim with food.
"Here," she said, "you're awfully thin. You remind me of Melody. You need some meat on those bones of yours."
The old grandfather clock, the one Melody used to love winding up, struck six. Wanda put a homemade lemon meringue cake with four candles on it on top of their counter, while everyone gathered around it, tossing streamers and blowing party favors. Though Melody was not predisposed to parties, she attended anyway -- for her mother.
Melody felt a prickling sensation on the back of her neck. But she was far too preoccupied to turn around. IF she had, she'd have been face to face with the one person she least expected to see here... Lisa Ramirez.
"What are you doing here?" Lisa asked.
"I used to live here, and it's my sister's birthday," replied Melody tartly. "What are YOU doing here?"
Finally it was time for Harmony to blow out her candles and transform from a small toddler to an independent child.
Snuggled safely in Wanda's arms, Harmony gazed adoringly up into her mother's face -- the picture of pure innocence. Wanda smiled as she leaned over the counter and helped Harmony blow out the candles. Wanda set the child on the floor, surrounded by everyone who loved her, and wished her husband could be here to see this.

Chapter Thirty-Two (Part One)

Marla approached Melody just as she walked back into Aldrich. "How was it?" she asked in her sweet, cheery voice.
"How was what?"
"The dinner."
"Heh, you don't want to know," Melody replied.
"Try me." Marla managed a chuckle. "Was it that bad?"
Shaking her head, Melody answered, "Well, it wasn't necessarily bad, just different."
"What do you mean by 'different'?"
"Depends on your point of view, actually."
Marla shook her head. This was typical Melody, she decided, not revealing anything.

Meanwhile, Chester had gone back to his apartment. He suddenly realized his final exam was just hours away. He didn't need to cram, he'd already turned in his term paper and all his assignments. So he decided that in lieu of sleep, he wanted to fix one of the broken computers on his lot. Suddenly, though, an odd screen appeared on his lone functioning computer, with a strange series of numbers and letters. Unable to think of anything else, he pressed the speed dial on his cell phone and called Melody.
"Hey Mel," he said, "I think you should come see this."
"I'll be over in a few, I want to check something out first. Don't touch anything, I'll be right there."
Chester looked again at his screen. "The sequence has changed, it seems like someone is trying to talk to me in some arcane language."
"I'll be over there in a few."
True to her word, Melody arrived a few moments later and shook her head as she cleaned up Chester's fly-ridden dinner plate. "You know you risk all those flies ganging up on you, don't you?" she muttered to herself.
Chester took the steaming mug of coffee from Melody with trembling hands and gulped it down quickly. This was the last thing he wanted to see right before his final.

But Melody shoved him aside. "Here, let me have a look." she said, squinting at the screen. Her serious frown suddenly vanished and she smiled broadly. "I think I've cracked it!" she said suddenly. "Judging by the repetition of many verbs and adverbs, I'm sure that this is a jumbled form of Latin!"
"How do you know all that?"
"Simple," Melody smirked proudly, "from books."

"Figures.... but hey! Isn't that a dead language?"
"Yep, only used in the medical, religious, and scholarly communities nowadays."
"Circe!"
"Actually, no.....it's more of a plea for help."
"I wouldn't help her if she was on fire!"
"Chester!!!"
"No, seriously, she's one evil person -- if you can call her that -- she's totally inhumane, just like her husband --"
"Loki Beaker, that scientist in Strangetown -- yeah, I've read about him. He dabbles in some really dangerous hard-core stuff, using live subjects for his experiments."
His voice trailed off and he looked thoughtful for a moment. "I wonder if they're true?"
"What's that?"
"The rumors."
"Huh?"
"Apparently they're supposed to have a 'creature' locked in the basement of their castle."
"A creature?" Melody was intrigued. "Do you mean they're holding a person hostage?"
"He isn't the first, I'm sorry to say."
Melody's eyes widened. "Are you serious?"
"I was lucky to escape their clutches by coming to college, lest I would be the next victim."
Leaning forth with decided interest, Melody asked, "Do you know who he is? I mean, have you seen him?"
"No, I haven't exactly seen him, at least not that I know. But when I used to pass by the Beakers I used to hear noises coming from their basement."
Melody continued to read what was on the screen. "A fronte praecipitum a tergo lupi," she read. "A precipice in front, wolves behind. It's supposed to be cryptic. Whoever's talking, they're not really talking about wolves, they used it as a metaphor. It means they're in some kind of trouble."
She decided to sit at the terminal and try communicating with the entity sending messages through Chester's computer screen. "Quid fit?" she asked no one in particular.
"What did you just type?"
"Oh, it's a Latin greeting, something like 'what's happening?'" She waited a few seconds for a response. And she got one. "Sentio aliquos contra me conspirare."
"The person is saying some people are plotting against him," replied Melody.
"Are you serious?" Chester asked.
Melody shrugged. "Do I look like I'm joking?"

Sighing heavily, Chester stole another glance at Melody. "I'm not liking the looks of this," he said. "How much Latin do you know?"
"Enough to get around Ancient Rome if I ever needed to." She laughed. "I took it in high school. Lots of Simlish is based upon it."
The person asked Melody if she spoke Latin, and she typed, "Sane, paululum linguae Latinae dico. Id legi modo hic modo illic. Vero, Latine loqui non est difficilissimum." (Sure, I speak a little bit. I picked it up here and there, but really, it isn't that hard.)
Chester looked over at Melody with longing and took a deep breath. Sure, he liked Jessica, but the woman he truly loved was in his presence right now. And he realized she was making a mistake.
The notion had been gnawing at him for awhile, eating at the very fiber of his being. "You can't do this," he said.
"Do what?"
Chester turned deadly serious. "You can't follow the path of Loki Beaker. You just can't. It's not you."
"What do you mean, follow the path of Loki Beaker?"
"I understand you love science and all, but there's a limit. You've cultivated that plant in the back of Aldrich and now look, it's already claimed a life."
"C'mon, Chester, he had no business being there in the first place, and he paid the price. Besides, Loki isn't my guide. I've got no desire to go into his line of work."
"If you ask me, you're already in it."
Shudders scooted down Melody's spine as Chester spoke. He was her best friend, how could he be saying these things to her? Why didn't he support her?
"It's just not you, Mel. I know you a lot better than that, and it's not you. It's not the woman I've come to know and love."

"My plan is to follow the paths of the Goths and the Curious brothers," she said, unsure if Chester was listening.
She turned to face Chester, her lips pressed tightly together, forming a pale line, determination written on her face.
"Why are you doing this?" she asked, her resolve fading as she read the pained expression on Chester's face.
"What?"
"Why are you, all of a sudden, trying to stop me from following my predestined path?"
Chester took a deep breath and turned away from her.
"It's because I care for you," he muttered, unable to meet her challenging glare. "It's because -- because -- I'm really worried for you."
At that precise moment, Chester was very aware of his hands, and began to pick at his fingernails, awaiting Melody's reply. There was a stunned silence as the gravity of his words began to sink in. Melody opened, then closed her mouth, as words failed her.
It was then that Chester finally turned and looked at her, his eyes locking with hers. Of all this time, he'd never once challenged or stood up to her, allowing her free rein to do as she wished.

But now, he knew he had to intervene. He'd recognized the fervor in her face, the flush in her cheeks and the manic glint in her eyes as she worked on her experiments. And he wasn't the only one who noticed this.

Could he be right? she wondered. Had she gone too far with her experiment? And had she reached the point of no return?

Wanda Tinker dreaded her upcoming elder transition. She knew it meant her mortality was near, and that one day soon she would join her husband in that unmentionable place. All she'd ever wanted was to become a mother, and now all she wanted was a bright future for her daughters. She worried about them constantly -- the one who was in college and the other who was in diapers. After all, it had been her job as a mother, to worry about them. And yet... and yet.. she constantly feared that she'd failed as a parent. She'd failed at the one thing she'd ever wanted to do. What she wanted, above all, was for her daughters to forge an unbreakable sisterly bond. Upon her departure, she knew, they were all they were going to have left.
If there was one thing her daughters had inherited from her, it was their stubbornness -- a trait each expressed in different ways. She hoped they would somehow get to know each other better. Now, pressing on her mind, was the fact that Harmony's transition was coming up soon, too, and that would bring a new set of challenges. How would she, as an elder with far less energy, take to raising a child who would be teeming with it?
She decided to dial Melody at Academie Le Tour in hopes of convincing her to return to Bluewater over spring break to attend Harmony's transition party. She decided Harmony would have a quiet transition, with Melody and Florence as the only invited guests.
What she didn't know was that Melody was dealing with her own issue, namely her bloodstained hand as a result of the death of the cow mascot. It was the last thing she wanted her mother to hear about.
When Wanda picked up the receiver, she got a recorded message, "This is Melody's answering machine, leave a message at the tone. Bye."
Wanda took a deep breath. "Hey sweetheart, it's me, mom. Your little sister's birthday is coming up, and I'm hoping you'd come home for that. You can bring a friend, too, if you like. But I'll understand if you don't return to Bluewater, after all, I can't say you're exactly on anyone's favorite persons list here except mine and maybe Flo's. Call me back when you get a chance, love. Talk to you soon."
She looked at the grandfather clock in the living room. Where could Melody be at this time of the night? Surely she knew her oldest daughter was a night owl but hoped that she was at least in the relative safety of the dorm.

Wanda realized that all that mollycoddling she gave Harmony, would soon end, as this little bundle of mischief would soon grow up into an independent little girl, and then what would happen in the future? Would she turn into her sister and alienate herself from the family?

Interrupting Wanda from her reverie was a phone call from Jennifer Burb, who'd moved in the empty house across the street with her husband John and young daughter Lucy. She'd told Wanda she was a paralegal at Lawson and Lawson, the firm that was handling Malcolm Landgraab's affairs. This meant, Wanda thought, she knew all about the attempted takeover of Tinker Toys by Malcolm.

Wanda made attempts to grill Jennifer, but Jennifer wouldn't divulge any information. "Listen," Jennifer replied tartly, "I understand that it's in your best interests, but it's my job and reputation on the line here. It's taken a lot of sim hours to get where I am today. And I'm not prepared to lose it all. Sorry."

Lisa Ramirez had parked her silver and black Lexus in the parking lot of Amelia's Closet, the swanky clothing store in Bluewater. It was the last gift that Checo had given her, and now, she wouldn't be without it. It represented a token of her former life. After a great deal of thought, she realized it was one of Checo's guilt gifts, just to keep her happy.
She had just returned from the grocery store. There was no food in the house. Thanks to Checo's furniture business, she'd never known what it was like to be hungry. She and Tessa never wanted for anything. They'd lived the good life.
While at Amelia's, she spotted a woman who seemed familiar to her, but somehow also seemed different. Her brown hair, which used to be blunt cut and covered with a dumpy black hat, was now loose and full. Gone was her long housedresses and stooped posture. She'd even dropped thirty pounds. Lisa had to admit, she looked great. It was none other than Wanda Tinker.
Wanda was flourishing, no doubt about it. And yet, here was Lisa, struggling with two jobs to make ends meet. Already she'd had to sell off some of her more expensive pieces of furniture, and the clothes she wore had seen better days.
It occurred to Lisa to approach Wanda, to try to apologize. Would Wanda accept? Would Wanda even talk to her? After all, so much time had passed, and so many things had happened.
Lisa was now destitute. She hardly saw Tessa because she was working so much. Checo had vanished without a trace, and while she was thinking about walking toward Wanda, she caught a whiff of perfume. Her perfume. The special perfume Checo had always bought for her. And now, some other woman had breezed past her wearing it.
Lisa looked up. It was none other than the scarlet woman herself -- Dina Caliente, the curvaceous blonde her husband had the affair with. She was picking out designer wear for herself. It took a lot of restraint for Lisa, flushing with rage, for her not to walk over and slap the woman in the face.
Her perfect little life had fallen apart. But was it really perfect to begin with? Was it all a lie?