Chapter Thirty-Three (Part One)

Melody was in the kitchen, helping her mother clean up after the guests left. "What kind of books were they this time?" Wanda teased playfully.
Melody shrugged. "Children's stories," she replied.
"I'm trying to remember when YOU actually read kids' books." Wanda laughed. "It seemed like, by the time you started kindergarten you were in the adult stacks. You curled up with dictionaries and encyclopedias, not kids' books."
Just then Harmony, with two puffed ponytails, gaily skipped into the living room, wearing a pastel yellow and pink dress. She was anxious to start school for the first time. Melody stole a glance at her and couldn't believe it. Who was this stranger and what had happened to her cute little kid sister?
"Melody, sweetheart, I'm going to take Harmony to school and meet her teachers. Be back soon." Wanda leaned over and gave Melody a kiss before taking Harmony out.
Melody could hardly believe what her mother was saying. Her kid sister was starting school. The baby that needed so much was now an able-bodied schoolgirl who could mostly care for herself.
Harmony grabbed Wanda's hand, and the pair of them disappeared out the front door.
Meanwhile, Melody suddenly felt lightheaded and dizzy, so she took a nap on the living room sofa. When she woke up, though, she thought she saw Stephen, white robes and all, in all his glory, standing in front of her.
Melody rubbed her eyes. It was a comforting sight, seeing him standing there. But then she thought about it. It couldn't be, right? Her eyes were playing tricks with her. But she looked again and the apparition was still standing there.
"Daddy?" she called, searching around, waiting for someone to answer. But all she heard was an echo of her own voice. Thinking she was losing her mind, she burst into tears.

A few moments later, Melody decided to take her first official steps out into Bluewater -- the first since her infamous outburst at the Christmas party. Was she nervous? Hell yes. She didn't know what to expect........... who she'd bump into...or what kind of reception she'd get. But her feet took her along a well trodden, familiar route.....
...... straight to J'Adore Bakery, where the delicious aroma of sweet pastries brought back memories and made her mouth water. They were happy times indeed. Swallowing hard, she decided to give the bakery a miss. After all, she DID publicly humiliate Gilbert.....
... even though he DID deserve it.
Dropping her head down, she walked away, so deep in thought that she never heard the sound of hasty footfall speedily approaching
"Melody?" a soft, breathless voice called out.
The accent was all too familiar, a husky, unmistakable French undertone.
It could be all too easy to walk on and ignore it but her instincts told her to stop.
She halted, turning around and coming face to face with Denise Jacquet.
The years had been hard on this woman, but there was no mistaking the gentleness and laughter that still remained in her eyes.
Hesitantly, Denise touched Melody's upper arm, the creases in her already lined face deepening slightly with an uncertain smile.
"Melody?" she asked, finally catching her breath, "is that you?.... Oh my..... how you've grown."
Yes, it was an inane observation, but Denise hoped that it would be enough to break the uneasy tension between them
Denise stepped back. Before her was a tall young woman, a far cry from the small girl who followed her around in the bakery.
"Please, have a seat," she said. "I've got some teas going and your favorite blueberry pie in the oven."
Melody took a deep breath as she sat in Denise's spacious living room. It was just as she'd remembered it, cozy and warm, forever with the scent of something cooking.
"You used to love blueberry pie. You came every day after school and on Saturdays too."
Denise returned from the kitchen with a slice of blueberry pie and a ceramic pitcher, filled with the scent of flavorful lemon tea.
"I remember this," Melody said, unable to suppress a grin. "Your pies were the best."
Melody was surprised at this hospitality. But there again, she'd always known how hospitable Mrs Jacquet was. Freshly baked pies and cakes at the ready and a softly cushioned chair - Melody's favorite by far - to snuggle into as she listened to Mrs Jacquet's culinary stories --
how, at her first lessson in cookery school, she'd had a sneezing session from using too much flour and almost set the classroom oven alight.
Melody broke the ice by telling her own story, about how she'd tried -- and failed miserably -- to bake a pie for Hanover's fall festival.
She remembered that growing up in Bluewater Village wasn't all bad. No matter how she tried, she just couldn't tear herself completely away from this place -- it was home.
Denise took her seat right next to Melody. "How's school?" she asked. "I hear you got into Academie Le Tour on scholarship. I always knew you had a good head on your shoulders."
Melody took a deep breath. She dreaded this question and dreaded its answer too. "Um, well, I'm taking some time off."
"Really, sweetheart? Why?"
Melody hesitated before answering. "Well, um, you know last fall my dad died, and my mom has been running the shop by herself all this time --"
"She's suffered so much since he's been gone," Denise noted. "They truly were soulmates. Reminded me of me and my dear sweet Yves."
Nodding in agreement, Melody took a sip of her tea. "This is delicious, you really put your foot into it!" exclaimed Melody.
"Well, I had to do something special for my favorite customer."
Melody couldn't suppress a grin. "Nothing's changed after all these years," she mused.
"Well, some things have changed," Denise replied. "In fact, a lot of things have changed. Last Christmas, at the party --"
Melody dreaded this. She didn't want to hear about what happened. She had said her piece and she was done with it.
"I know about what happened last Christmas. And I understand. You were frustrated and upset. I couldn't say anything then, everyone was just so dumbfounded by what happened -- I mean, you hadn't uttered a syllable in ages and now suddenly you just lashed out at everybody." Denise shook her head and let out a heavy sigh. "Well, you know, since the party, Gilbert's completely changed his life around. He got a job at an art gallery and he's engaged."
Melody stopped herself. "Um, really?" she asked. "Wow, when did this happen?"
"Last month, to his girlfriend, Sandy Miller. They've moved to an apartment downtown, so now it's just me."
Melody nodded. "I see."
"Oh, and the bakery --"
Leaping forward, Melody asked, "What about the bakery?"
"Malcolm Landgraab tried to buy it from Gilbert."
"It always boils down to HIM, doesn't it?" The words felt like bile in her throat, angry and festering. But they didn't begin to explain the disdain she felt for him.
"I know how much you don't like him, dear. I'm indifferent toward him myself. But Gilbert is actually friends with him."
Melody tried hard to suppress tears. "You can't let him sell the bakery, Mrs. Jacquet! You just can't!"
"I'm getting old, dear," Denise said, "and Gilbert is starting his new life. He's decided to follow a different life path. I did some thinking and I realized that you're right about me holding on to him. I'm not going to hold him back any longer."
Melody couldn't help but shed tears herself. "This can't be happening!" she screamed. "You sound like you've given up!"
"Life is too short for petty squabbles, dear, you'll learn that when you're older." Denise forced a wan smile. "I know I don't have much time before the Reaper comes for me. All I want to do is live out the remainder of my life as peacefully as possible."

Out the corner of her eye, Wanda spied a striking brunette woman in a low-cut red dress, walking toward the backyard workshop. She knew, from previous experience, that she was Elise Livingston, who wrote the consumer column for the Times, and that she was a spy for Malcolm Landgraab. She didn't want Melody to have to deal with her this soon after returning, so she went back to see what Elise wanted.
When Wanda got there, she found Elise had started scribbling some information. When she tried to find out what she was writing, Elise turned her back to hide her note pad. Malcolm sent her back here, she thought.
"Elise Livingston?" asked Wanda, eyeing her cautiously.
"You must be Mrs. Tinker," Elise replied with her sugary smile as she extended her hand. "How do you do?"
Elise proceeded to walk around the workshop as Wanda watched. "I must say, Mrs. Tinker, you've done a commendable job with the shop since your husband's passing. The operation is streamlined like a well-oiled machine."
"Well, I kinda can't take the credit," Wanda admitted, "the multiple employees working was my daughter's idea."
"Your daughter?" asked Elise.
"Yes, my oldest daughter, she's at ALT."
Closing her notepad, Elise picked up a fire truck and examined it. "These fire trucks are exceptionally well made."
"Thanks, well, we don't consider Tinker Toys a business or a company -- for us, it's a labor of love." For the cynical, Wanda's statement could have easily been taken as rehearsed or a public relations stunt, but in her case she really meant it.

Harmony skipped gaily into the front door, carrying a notebook in hand and having brought a friend home. Arms folded, she stared at her older sister sitting off to herself in a corner. "What's the matter with you?" Harmony asked.
Melody, meanwhile, had contented herself with a stack of papers she had found in Stephen's file cabinet. "Mom?" she asked Wanda while she was in the kitchen preparing a feast. "Did you know Dad was writing children's stories?"
Wanda looked up from her chopping board. "Children's stories?"
"Yeah, I found this stack of papers in his file cabinet. They were supposed to be a collection of children's stories."
"Really? May I see them?"
"Sure, mom, when I'm done."
What's this business about children's stories? Wanda muttered to herself as she returned to chopping onions for the afternoon meal. It occurred to Wanda that even though she knew her husband well, there was a lot about him that she didn't know.

The death of Mortimer Goth, the lion of Pleasantview, came as a surprise to no one. After all, he'd been ill for awhile and had come to an advanced age. And to no one's surprise, he accepted his fate with grace and aplomb.

His widow, Dina, cried buckets of tears in her son's bedroom.

"Just look at him!" hissed a very pregnant Cassandra at the Goth mansion, pointing her bony finger at the blond haired, grey eyed child, "THAT'S no Goth child."

Little Manuel, Dina's son, flailed his arms in the air in obvious distress.
"Mama!" he wailed, a distinct aroma emanating from his diaper.
Dina ignored him, standing face to face with her step daughter.
"You can keep your nose out of my business young lady," she snarled through clenched teeth, "I got what your father wanted.... a son."
"Young lady?" Cassandra scoffed, "who are you to call ME young lady? I'm not an errant teenager any more. And for your information, we're practically the same age......"
"Besides..." she pursed her lips and looked down at the distressed child, ".... aren't you going to change his diaper?"
Dina grumbled under her breath, pulling disgusted faces as she bent down to scoop Manuel up into her arms.
"I was hoping the nanny would have intervened by now," she said, partly to herself, "it's her job NOT mine."
She coughed and spluttered as she dusted Manuel a little too heavily with baby powder, some of it getting onto her expensive silk top. Her perfectly manicured nails shredded through the first diaper as she struggled to make it fit.
Cassandra stood watching her, amused at the performance.
This was a golden opportunity, she had Dina where she wanted her, and it was too good to miss.
"Oh," she began nonchalantly, "as we're on the topic...."
Dina was too preoccupied with a struggling, squalling Manuel to pick up on Cassandra's trap.
"Who is the father?"

Dina shot Cassandra a look that could melt steel. "None of your damned business!"

"It's not Father, is it?"

"Like I said, it's none of your business. Now leave me the hell alone!"

Cassandra straightened up. "Get out!" she shouted with all the authority she could muster.

Dina grimaced in disbelief. "What?" she asked.

"You heard me. I said get out. Take your kid and get out of my father's house before I get the cops to escort you out."

"What am I going to do about the furniture?"

"We'll figure it out. But right now, get your stuff and get out! NOW!"

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?

Chapter Thirty-One (Part Two)

When Dr. Hyden walked into his office from his last class of the day, Melody was waiting on him. "Miss Tinker?" he asked, looking around with a bewildered look on his face. "How long have you been here?"
Melody shrugged. "Not long at all."
"How did you get in? I lock my door at all times."
Melody shrugged again. "You left it open," she lied. Chester had taught her how to pick the lock. Dr. Hyden let out a deep sigh. "You haven't been poking around in my files, have you?"
"No," Melody frowned. "How am I supposed to know your password?"
Dr. Hyden took a long look at Melody, and suddenly decided she was attractive. "You know, Miss Tinker," he said, circling her uncomfortably, "if you weren't my student --"
Melody bristled. "Get your hands off my -- god, you're so disgusting!"
Startled by Melody's tone of voice, Dr. Hyden backed away.
"You know, I can have you reported to the chancellor for doing this." Melody was firm. "And don't think I don't know about you and Roxie Sharpe too."
"Who is Roxie Sharpe?" Dr. Hyden asked. "I don't have a student by that name."
"She isn't even one of your students? That makes it even worse."
"Seriously, Miss Tinker, I don't have an idea what you're talking about."
Melody turned around to face him. Inhaling deeply, she pieced together exactly what she was going to say. "I'm going to make a deal with you, Hyden."
Dr. Hyden didn't like the sound of that, but he listened anyway.
"I won't report these indiscretions of yours to the campus authorities -- if you agree to take my DNA test."
Dr. Hyden could do nothing but laugh. He knew he'd been backed into a corner. Either way, he was going to do something he didn't want to do.
"You're a smart lass, eh, Tinker?" Dr. Hyden managed to mutter.
"Yeah, well, I didn't steal it from anywhere." She took a deep breath. "So, what are you going to do?"
"I can't believe that you're still holding this over my head."
"Dr. Hyden, this charade has gone on long enough, it's time to find out the truth once and for all."

Chester Gieke rose from his bed the next day. He needed this time, this space, and discovered that he liked his own company. He needed to think about some things -- mostly the mess his love life had degenerated into. He'd wanted an understanding of women's motivations, but found that he was more confused than ever. And what Melody had said really made his head spin. He secretly (and not-so-secretly) hoped that what happened wouldn't damage his hopes of finally graduating from ALT.
So, with a heavy heart and a heavy mind -- he paid a visit to Aldrich. He found he MISSED living there -- missed the constant movement, missed the busy-ness, missed the noise. More importantly, he missed his friends. His apartment was usually silent, except for the noises from his computer game.
He and Melody walked straight toward the back greenhouse, unaware that they were being watched.
"Chester, we've got a problem," Melody whispered, with the cowplant seemingly listening to their every word.
"What do you mean?" wondered Chester, rubbing his chin.
"Well, the plant -- it -- it ate a sim just like we would eat a meal."
Shaking his head, Chester replied, "No, wait a minute, that's impossible. No way the plant could actually eat a simian. The only thing it takes in as nourishment is special fertilizer. That's what the instructions said."
"Well, it's clear this isn't an ordinary plant," Melody confirmed.
"No shit, Sherlock," laughed Chester. "Look at it, the thing has a cow head and fangs, for chrissakes! It's not supposed to look like that is it?"
Melody took a step back. Had the plant's chemistry changed when Chester's blood accidentally got onto the seeds? There was only one way for her to find out. After swabbing Chester's tongue, Melody peered into the powerful microscope. She pulled away, rubbing her eyes. 'I must be getting tired,' she thought, wiping the lens of her glasses.
Leaning forward again, she peered down onto the sliver of glass and shook her head. "It can't be," she whispered.
"Anything wrong?" Chester asked, approaching.
"Give me your hand," she demanded, grabbing a sterilized needle.
"Whoa!!" Chester protested, stepping back.
"Aww, c'mon," she said, grabbing his fingers.
Chester yelped as he felt the pin prick on the fleshiest part of his thumb.
"Owwww!! THAT HURT!"
"Wuss," she grinned, "all I wanted was a drop of blood."
Chester took one look at the smear of blood on his thumb, and promptly vomited.
Melody shook her head and let out a deep sigh. "You are worse than my kid sister," she said as she closed her eyes and cleaned Chester off with a towel.
"It's not my fault needles give me the creeps. When I was little I actually ran from the doctor. My parents had to hold me down to have my shots."
Chester looked up, into Melody's eyes. He couldn't forget those eyes, those big, piercing, can't-miss-anything brown eyes. He'd already decided they were her most noteworthy feature. They stood in sharp contrast to his own -- so inconspicuous that his glasses could very well substitute for them.
He knew instantly where he'd seen those eyes -- on a portrait of Dr. Hyden hanging in his office. They were the same ones, the same large, piercing brown eyes. He couldn't help but think -- was it really true? Could it be?

"An invite to the Goth mansion?" Edwin asked Melody over dinner. "You cannot be serious! Do you realize how big a deal this is?"
Melody shrugged. "It's not really that big of a deal."
"Do you know who he is?!?" Marla exclaimed. "He's only the most important man in all of Sim City. And the fact that you and Chester have been granted a private audience with him -- I mean that doesn't happen, like, ever. Especially not to lowly college students like us."
"Do you know what you're going to say to him?" Edwin asked.
"I guess, we're going to explain our project --"
Edwin took a deep breath. "That thing in the greenhouse out back?"
Melody sighed. "How do you know about that?"
"C'mon, Mel, it's not that big of a secret, you know. I know you and Chester have been up all night, every night, and you sneak out back every morning with a notepad."
Melody bristled. "How do you know all that?"
"Hey, you forget I lived in an apartment with the two loudest people on the face of the earth. You kind of get used to certain things after awhile."

Melody had asked Marla to help her pick out something to wear to the Goth mansion. "I'm no good at this," she complained.
"You'll find something to put on," Marla smiled.
"But I only own one dress!"
"Wear it."
"But it's not right, I mean, this is the Goth mansion we're talking about. And you know a whole lot more about clothes than I do."

Inside the Goth mansion, Melody and Chester jostled each other, shuffling uncomfortably. They were here by special invitation. Even though this elderly man barely reached their shoulders, with his stooped posture, he still commanded an air of authority. His watery eyes missed nothing.
"You CAN enter you know," he grumbled, rubbing at his lower back, "and make sure you close that door. The damp air plays havoc with my old joints."
Slowly they peered in. "You first," Chester whispered, nudging Melody on her shoulder. Melody took a deep breath. This was THE Mortimer Goth, who'd made his living with fabulous gadgets and years of studying extraterrestrial and paranormal phenomena. He'd amassed the most impressive fortune in all of Sim City, making Landgraab look like a pauper in comparison.
"I've heard you young'uns have been doing some good work." Mortimer chewed on his mustache and patted his head.
Melody could remember only two other occasions during which she'd truly been awestruck -- first, by meeting Darren Dreamer, and second, by meeting Dr. Hyden. This one, however, dwarfed them both.
Mortimer Goth managed to be both frail and imposing at the same time. The crotchety old CEO of Goth Industries told the pair to sit in his elegant, spacious dining room.
Melody, sharp eyed as usual, instantly spotted the pain in Mortimer's eyes, the accentuated gruffness in his voice and the slow way he moved from A to B. His spine, once straight as an arrow, now slightly curved, with his shoulders hunched in an exaggerated stoop "Alexander?" Mortimer called softly, "our guests are here."
From nowhere, creeping spectrally silent into the hallway, a tall, lanky, bespectacled boy appeared. "He's such a shy boy," Mortimer shook his head. "Completely withdrawn himself from everything, ever since his mother vanished."
Melody picked up the tone of regret in this elderly gent's voice. She and Chester already knew the story by memory. Several years ago, when Alexander was but a tot, Mortimer's wife, the legendary beauty Bella Bachelor Goth, had vanished. The current theory was that she'd been stargazing on Don Lothario's condo deck and been abducted by aliens. In his spare time (when he wasn't running and hiding from everyone) Chester spent a great deal of time researching the 'Bella Goth' conspiracies.
No one knew for sure what had happened to her. Ever since he saw (or thought he saw) a perfect lookalike wandering through Strangetown, he himself had many unproven theories of his own. Not renowned for being a 'sensitive soul' (Chester concluded that Edwin and Marla fit that bill) he himself saw the deep aura of sadness circling Mortimer.
Alexander stopped short, his mouth hung open at the sight of two strangers sitting at his dinner table.
"Alexander," his father called softly, "why don't you join us?"
Alexander flushed brightly before turning and fleeing.
Alexander was always in awe of his father. Keeping silent all the time but overhearing these two discussing his father's sorrow, an overwhelming urge crept over him. After all, wasn't he himself a witness to the wanton debauchery of his step mother Dina? She was always on the phone, calling all her 'conquests.' It was common knowledge that they didn't always get on. Actually, that was an understatement -- they hated each other on sight. Alexander didn't like Dina the moment he first saw her. Tall, blond, and beautiful, Dina slithered her way into his father's life like a snake. He hated the way she wrapped her slinky arms around him, how she told him everything she thought he wanted to hear. Especially after the disappearance of Bella, Dina was a ray of sunshine in his dark, dreary life. Or so he thought.
Why were they here? Alexander wondered. Were they here to pry? Were they spies?
Meanwhile, Mortimer's excellent turkey dish sat on the table. Melody, not usually one to eat, was famished after spending hours buried underneath stacks of yellowing texts in the Le Tour library.
Melody glanced over at Chester and saw him hyperventilating as he took his seat. Which meant, as usual, it would be up to her to explain the experiment.
Chester couldn't believe where he was, or where his journey with Melody had taken him. A year ago he wouldn't have dared to set foot in the Goth mansion, in the presence of a man he admired greatly. Now he was there, in his presence, explaining his work.
There was a definite air of hostility, when Melody and Chester came face to face with Dina.
Narrowing her eyes suspiciously, she shifted Manuel's heavy weight from one hip to the other.
Melody couldn't help noticing the resemblance to his mother.
His chubby fingers played with Dina's own hair as he nodded to sleep, his tiny little head lolling on her chest.
"Please excuse me," said Dina turning abruptly, "I'd better get this little man to bed."
His eyes were tight shut, so they couldn't quite see if he had Dina's or Mortimer's eye colour, but the resemblance to Dina was indeed very striking.
Meanwhile, the phone rang. "I'm sorry," Mortimer said, his tone regretful, "I've got to take this." Chester and Melody watched in awe as Mortimer disappeared toward the kitchen, where the phone was located. "Alexander, be a good host until I return."
Alexander inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. He didn't know these two, had never seen them before in his life, but yet they seemed strangely familiar to him, like he'd seen them before in another dimension.
Alexander slid into his chair, his eyes alternating between Chester and Melody, his face hopeful and expectant. But soon enough, his attention strayed to Melody. The easy going attitude she had, the way she gave him her full attention when he asked questions. It could have been his fertile imagination, or even his raging teen hormones. But he felt that Melody made him appear the single most important person at that table.
Melody herself, was flattered by the rapt attention this soft-spoken teenage boy gave her. How his pallid complexion flushed whenever she answered his questions and smiled at him.
Chester waited until the taxi pulled toward the curb. Then he pounced. "He was flirting with you," he declared loudly.
"What?" Melody was stunned.
"He was hanging on every word you said."
"C'mon, Chester, he's a kid. When kids see grownups around them, they're gonna mimic everything they say."
"Not the way he was 'mimicing.' He couldn't keep his eyes off of you." They walked into the taxi and rode back to Le Tour, jostling and needling each other the whole way.

Chapter Thirty-One (Part One)

Back in Bluewater Village, Malcolm Landgraab IV spent the morning screaming into his receiver -- this time, at one of the contractors he'd hired to finish the strip mall he was building. "What?" he yelled. "You mean you can't finish the project because I can't procure the land? It's not my damn fault! I've done everything I can from my end. Can't you evict the Tinkers?"
He buried his face in his hands. He couldn't believe what was happening to him. He'd grown up with a silver spoon in his mouth -- and the lofty legacy of his family to protect -- and for the first time in his life he'd heard the word 'no.' For the first time in his professional career, someone had told him he didn't have permission to bulldoze their property. And it was a mere slip of a girl, too, barely out of her teens. Sure, he secretly admired her gumption, but did it have to happen to him? Why? And why now?
He reflected on the events that had taken place since that fateful Christmas party when everything as he'd known it in Bluewater Village had changed. Even the Bluewater to which he'd first arrived had changed, too, in no small part because of him. There were more businesses here now than full-time residences. The people had sacrificed their lives and lifestyles for, as he put it, the 'betterment of Bluewater.' But was it really?
His reverie was interrupted by the ringing doorbell. Ah, pleasurable company, the Missus Goth, née Dina Caliente. She'd recently wed the retired mad scientist, Mortimer Goth.
Malcolm took a look at Dina. She was certainly attractive, with blond waves that dusted her shoulders and cheery green eyes. Her red dress hugged her considerable curves in all the right places.
He had a weakness for this sort, and he knew he would need to check his lust at the door. After all, she was a married woman, and women married to men like Mr. Goth just didn't embark on relationships with him.
"What brings you here?" Malcolm asked almost breathlessly, attempting to hide his passion. His grandfather had warned him about Jezebels -- not to fall into their trap.
Dina was quite forthcoming. "I want a baby," she said outright, "and my husband is infertile."
"Have you tried fertility treatments?" Malcolm asked tersely.
"You, Mr. Landgraab, are the only fertility treatment I need," Dina said, "young and handsome and virile."
Malcolm sighed. "There's one minor flaw in your plan, Mrs. Goth," he said, "we're both blond haired and the Goth family is dark."
In a seductive voice Dina replied, after changing into another stunning outfit, "I'm -- sure -- we could work something out."
Malcolm marvelled at this striking woman's bravado. "Look," she said, her voice low, her gaze direct, "I don't care if it's from outer space. If I don't bear a child, I don't get a red cent of that massive fortune of his." She stroked her fingers lightly up his sleeve.
"So, what do you say?"
She was a woman after his own heart, determined, money driven. In a different scenario, this would have been perfect. But he realized how desperate she was. The Goths and the Landgraabs had always been society rivals, with the Goths always pipping the Landgraabs at the post for the biggest fortune accumulated in Simland. Dina wasn't exactly 'mother' material, and she knew it. Swallowing her pride, she had decided to 'make a go of it' on her wedding night. With a few grunts, and groans, and the fear that her poor husband's heart would give out before the night was over, Dina was deeply disappointed when she wasn't successful at conceiving a child.
Malcolm smirked at Dina. "Why didn't you try for that Ramirez guy you were banging?"
Dina blanched at the thought. "I did," she replied dryly, "but he was always 'careful.' Apparently, he was thinking about his 'family.'"
"And what happened?"
"He dropped me like a brick," Dina pouted, "some snot of a kid, went and blabbed about us to his wife."
Malcolm sighed. It all had come back to him now. Melody Tinker's stunning rant at the Bluewater Village Christmas party, during which she'd railed on everyone in town, himself included. Everything had come full circle. How the heck had she known about the affair? Malcolm wondered. With her obvious knack for finding out things, if they weren't bitter enemies, Malcolm would have put her on the pay roll.
Malcolm ushered Dina into his spacious living room and then led her to his hot tub. Without knowing it he'd fallen right into her trap.




Melody heard the sound of tinkling glass and her heart sank. She knew that meant only one thing. Her precious hybrid was about to suffer a swift and painful death. She'd kept that greenhouse at a constant 90 degree temperature while propagating the seedlings. But when she got to the greenhouse, there was nobody there. The only clue was the head of the plant lolling indulgently, its udders under it's chin slightly swollen. By the roots of the plant, there was a scrap of fleece, which by Melody's quick deductions, could only come from the costume of the cow mascot.
Quick as a flash, she pocketed the scrap of fabric. And waited for an opportune moment to dispose of it properly. The cow mascot was nowhere to be seen.
She grabbed her cell phone and buzzed Chester.
Chester was eating pizza with Jessica McClellan, his girlfriend, when the phone rang. "Hello?" Chester droned.
"Ches, it's me, Mel. Look, could you come over to Aldrich? Something's -- happened -- with the plant."
Chester didn't like the tone of Melody's voice. "I'm on my way as soon as I can," he told her, wiping the pizza crumbs from his mouth.
Jessica made a face. "Who was that?"
Chester didn't want to lie to her, but he didn't want to tell her the truth either.
"That was that psycho Melody, wasn't it? I tell you, Chester, with a friend like that who needs enemies?"
Chester let out a deep groan as he returned to his seat.

Dr. Marcel Hyden stepped out of a taxi and surveyed the exterior of Aldrich Honors Dormitory. A redhaired guy he knew well stepped outside, on his way to his night class. "Mr. Gieke!" Dr. Hyden called.
Chester was surprised. "Hello, Dr. Hyden," he greeted, "how are you today?"
Dr. Hyden rubbed his chin. He had no time for small talk. "Have you seen Miss Tinker?" he asked.
Frowning, Chester replied, "I don't live here. And if you're looking for Melody, she isn't here either."
Shaking his head, Dr. Hyden said, "Well, I'm sure you know what time she'll be back."
"If I did know," Chester told Dr. Hyden, "I sure as heck wouldn't tell you."
"Are you being smart with me, Gieke?" asked Dr. Hyden.
"I'm just telling you, I wouldn't know. I don't live here."
"I'd like to come in anyway, to inspect the premises."
Chester folded his arms. "Dr. Hyden, I know why you're coming. You're looking for that formula aren't you?"
"Look, Gieke, I don't know what you and Miss Tinker are trying to hide, but you can't hide too much longer. I'm on to you, the pair of you."
I dodged the military every day while I was in Strangetown, Chester thought, an aged, bespectacled professor doesn't frighten me at all. "You've got nothing on me or Melody," he shot back.
"Tinker's got you thinking you're both bullet proof. Well, you're sadly mistaken."
"Dr. Hyden, I realize you're a tenured professor who's been in your field for years, but can't you admit for once that someone has you beat?" Chester realized that it was six in the evening and it was time for him to go to his nuclear physics class. He was tempted to leave to go to his class, but he didn't trust Dr. Hyden to keep his nose out of Aldrich while he was gone.

Chapter Thirty (Part Two)

Edwin was awakened by the sounds of hammer, screwdriver, and nails coming from across the hallway. He drowsily rose from his bed to see what was the racket -- although he suspected he knew what was causing it. It was Melody at her workbench. He shook his head in disbelief. "What are you doing?" he asked. "It's three-thirty in the morning!"
Melody grinned. "I couldn't sleep," she said.
"And you have to wake up the whole dorm?" As he said it, he couldn't hide the chuckle on his face. "Couldn't you pick a quieter activity, like reading a book or something?"
Melody grinned again. "I'm trying to build us a sentry bot."
"What's a sentry bot?" Edwin wondered.
"Think of what a sentry does. It's a guard," Melody explained. "Well, this is a robot that kind of does the same thing. It uses laser technology to zap its victims."
"Oh," Edwin mused. "Why are you making a sentry bot?"
"For the silly cow mascots and cheerleaders. They're so annoying!" Then Melody added, "The cheerleaders scream the school cheer in your face and the cow mascots play all kinds of tricks."
For Edwin, the sight of a woman happily hunched over a gray bench with a screwdriver and a hammer was a bit jarring, even if he knew Melody was a different sort of woman with a different background from the ones he'd met. Oh, he knew about her family, the famed toymakers the Tinkers. He figured they probably spent hours hunched over benches. But still, to him, seeing it was a bit surprising.

Dr. Hyden was sitting in his classroom going over his assignments when he stopped Melody as she was leaving. "Melody Tinker," he called as she was heading for the exit, "may I see you, please?"
Melody shrugged. "Sure, Dr. Hyden." She motioned to Chester, waiting at the door, that she was coming in a few seconds.
"I've carefully examined your profile and have discovered some very interesting things in it."
Leaning forward with interest, Melody asked, "What do you mean, interesting things?"
"I didn't realize you were an artist as well. My niece Delilah is an art major here and is also quite talented."
"I wish I still had time to paint," Melody admitted. "I'm so busy now I hardly have time to breathe. What I wouldn't give to commune with my canvas again."
Dr. Hyden continued. "A few years ago you were the Quigley award winner, and the winning painting is very interesting to me."
"Oh? In what way?"
Dr. Hyden leaned forth with a color-printed copy of Melody's painting on a sheet of paper. She barely recognized the girl in the painting -- the only way she realized it was her was the Hanover uniform she was wearing. But there were other details too, like the telescope and the bright blue beam and her backyard in the background.
Melody took a deep breath as she knew she'd been found out. Now would her dean be astute enough to discern her big secret?
"Is this your painting, Miss Tinker?"
Melody closed her eyes briefly before opening them again. "Yes."
"I must say myself, it's an intriguing painting. It seems to depict an abduction, am I correct?"
Melody reluctantly nodded her head.
"Are you the girl in the painting?"
Melody couldn't lie to her dean, but she couldn't tell him the whole truth, either. "Not exactly," she fibbed.
"What do you mean, 'not exactly'?"
"Well," Melody began, shocked that she'd have to answer this question again, "the whole scene is a dream sequence, a 'what if' type scenario. It's asking the question, what happens if aliens are out there? Would they want to establish a line of communication with humans?"
Dr. Hyden shook his head. "An interesting take on the age-old question, Miss Tinker," he said. But he wasn't sure he believed her story. "You say it does, in fact, depict an abduction -- is this one of your own imagination, or does it have basis in reality?"
"There really is no additional analysis needed," Melody said, getting more irritated. "It's just a painting depicting a dream sequence. Nothing more, nothing less. Why, did you think it was real?"
Dr. Hyden decided to change the subject. Filing his suspicion in the back of his mind for now, he had another matter he wanted to discuss with his star pupil. "Miss Tinker, I'm well aware of your demands for a DNA test."
Melody was firm. "It's the only way we're going to answer the question once and for all."
"I'm hearing you've been doing your own experiments with DNA."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, the plant growing at the back of your dormitory. I did a check of the list of students staying at Aldrich, and you're the only one I teach -- and the only one I could see doing something like this."
Melody shook her head. "So you think I'm growing this plant?"
"Miss Tinker, I've questioned everyone else who lives in your dorm. There's a girl who says she's actually seen you go off in the direction of the greenhouse in the back, so I know the plant is yours."
Melody immediately knew who had been the snitch -- Jessica McClellan. And she knew why, too. She knew Jessica was the only person in Aldrich who hated her enough to snitch on her.Just then Chester emerged. He had been at the door, listening. He couldn't allow Melody to take the fall for this alone, it wouldn't sit right with him.
"It's my plant," Chester said, with surety. "We grew it together as an experiment."
Melody was astonished. "Chester!" she exclaimed, half-whispering. "You don't --"
He put his finger over her mouth, looking into her eyes and grabbing her hand. The gesture did not go unnoticed by Dr. Hyden.
"How did you -- how did you come across such a strange hybrid?"
Melody spoke up. "I cannot disclose that information."
"You are going to tell me where you got the instructions to grow that plant -- or you will be expelled from school."
Melody and Chester looked at each other and took deep breaths. "We were doing this as a research project," Melody began. "We were attempting to see if plant and animal DNA could be combined to create something else entirely."
Dr. Hyden shook his head. "I have been teaching for many years, and I don't think I've ever encountered students like you two."
"What do you mean?" asked Chester.
"I've had students with curiosity and a passion for learning, but not on the level of you two."
"Coming from you," Melody said, "I'm not sure whether to take that as a compliment or not."
Dr. Hyden shook his head. "I'm having the biology dean, Dr. Straight, take a trip to Aldrich to get a look at the plant. But since the two of you are in my department, I'm the one who's going to ultimately decide what to do with you." His tone grew more ominous as he directly addressed Melody. "But I will say this -- it would be in your best interest to hand over your notes."
"Can we at least have time to consider our options?" asked Chester, acutely aware of Melody trembling beside him.
Dr. Hyden removed his bifocals and wiped them thoughtfully, apparently weighing up the odds. "And give you two the time to hide or destroy the evidence?" he replied squinting at them, "I think not."

Later that afternoon, Chester decided to play pinball in the Le Tour student union. Melody, coming from the press room, spotted him and decided to join him. Seeing her out of the corner of his eye, he broke out into a wide grin. But Melody was deadly serious. "Hyden's outrageous!" she cried. "He thinks he can beat me."
"Well," Chester replied, "he's got the doctoral degrees and the position as dean of the department. He can do whatever he wants."
"Not if I can help it," Melody sighed.
"What do you mean?"
"Don't you see what he's doing, Chester?" asked Melody. "He's trying to blackmail us into giving up our work. You think I'm going to allow him to get the credit? That's not going to happen. I don't care what I have to do."
Chester stopped and looked at Melody. He knew she was serious and he knew her tone was ominous. He knew the last time he saw that look -- just before she returned to Bluewater Village over Christmas break. She hadn't told him what happened there, but he knew something had occurred. He put his hand on hers. "Don't do anything rash," he warned.

Melody had a hard time paying attention in Dr. Hyden's Principles of Astronomy class. While listening to him lecture on quasars, she realized that this was the same man attempting to blackmail her into giving up her pet project. Not in this lifetime, she said to herself. She also wondered how many other students he'd done this to over the years.
Chester, sitting in front of her, had hastily scribbled a note and passed it to her. "Hey Mel," it began, "meet me in the student press room after your next class."
Folding it up and putting it in her notebook, she looked again at the diagrams and formulas Dr. Hyden had put on the chalkboard. She decided she was going to focus on the material and not on the person teaching it.
"Tonight's the lunar eclipse, isn't it?" asked Melody.
Chester shook his head. "Goodness, Mel, are you a computer? I forgot all about that."
"How could you have forgotten? They've been saying it on the news for the last two weeks. We're not going to see another one for two more years."
"You've been looking forward to it for the last two weeks, I bet," Chester chuckled.

That evening Chester and Melody had found their way to the top of the observatory tower in the astronomy building. "What time did they say the lunar eclipse was going to start?" Chester asked.
"The almanac said it starts at eight seventeen and ends at ten thirty."
"Two whole hours." Chester took a deep breath. "Is that how long it takes for the sun's shadow to completely obscure the moon?"
Melody adjusted the knobs on the telescope. "Hey, this is one of those that's supposed to take pictures, right? Is there a way to set that up?"
"Dr. Hyden was showing us," Chester said, leaning over to press a button on the bottom, "I think you turn that knob there and press that button to take pictures."
"Oh," Melody said, shaking her head. "I think I'll take a few practice shots of the Milky Way."
Chester gazed longingly at Melody, thinking to himself that on a night like tonight, he'd like to wrap his arms around her. But right now he wanted to wrap his hands around one of the tuna fish sandwiches he'd packed. "I'm hungry," Chester said between bites. "Do you want one?"
Melody looked at Chester holding the soggy sandwich in his hand. She liked him -- liked him a lot, but sometimes she found him ingratiating. "Uh, no thanks," she replied. "I'm not hungry. Besides, according to my watch the eclipse is supposed to start in two minutes and twenty seconds."
"How about a drink?" Chester popped open a can of soda and the fizz could be heard for awhile afterward. While he took a sip, he managed to spill some on his shirt.
Shaking her head, Melody responded, "Two minutes."
Chester hurriedly packed his food, but left out his tuna fish sandwich. Between bites, he couldn't help but glance back at Melody. My goodness, she's the brightest star out here, he thought to himself.
"One minute," Melody said, aiming the telescope to the northwest sky. Satisfied that the sky wasn't going to be cloudy, as forecasted on the news, Melody decided to sit on the blanket, next to Chester, and watch this natural light show. Her hand briefly brushed against Chester's, causing an electric bolt through his arm, straight to his heart.
He gasped weakly, and glanced across at her.
She drew her hand away. "Oops, sorry," she muttered distractedly, "did I catch you just then?"
"No," he panted, feeling his fair skin tingling as the blood rushed through to his scalp. Thank goodness for the velvety darkness surrounding them.
He leaned towards her, lightly brushing against her arm, the excuse being that his leg was in cramp.
Her skin felt soft, yet cold.
"Oh my," he exclaimed loudly, "you're freezing. Let me get you something to keep you warm."
Touched by his generosity, Melody only smiled. "I'm fine, really," she replied, her hands slid up and down her arms.
Realizing they'd only brought the blanket they sat upon, and it would take at least an hour to run back to the dorm, Chester removed his favorite sweater and draped it over Melody's shoulders. There was a moment, just then, when their eyes locked. He peered through his glasses and past hers.
He leaned forward only fractionally, hoping that she wasn't about to skitter away. When she didn't move, he tried again,using the excuse that his sweater was falling off her shoulder and needed adjusting. Those brown eyes were intense, deep pools of determination he could drown in. He could feel her warm breath in short gasps as he kept approaching. "SQUELCH!!"
As Chester had leaned across, he needed a little balance and he'd put his hand out to steady himself right into the middle of his now soggy tuna sandwiches. "EWWW," he groaned, sitting back, trying to inspect his hand.
Melody stifled a nervous giggle, quite out of character for her. She got up, dusted herself off, and returned to the telescope to get pictures of the eclipse.

Melody was still stargazing when a limousine pulled up in front of the astronomy building. She stopped and looked around, and a blond girl with braids got out and eyed her warily. "Okay, hands up!" said the girl in a meek voice.
Melody was perplexed. What's going on here? she wondered. When she tried to return to her telescope, the blond girl cleared her throat. "You're coming with me."

"Me?" Melody asked, shrugging her shoulders. "What did I do? I'm telling you, I didn't do anything!"
The blond girl jammed her hands firmly on her hips and scowled. "Yeah, right," she muttered, "where've I heard THAT one before? Just come with me, Tinker." The girl struggled to handcuff Melody, who was fit and strong from working out and lifting weights, but managed to lead her to the limousine.
They rode in silence until Melody's insatiable curiosity kicked in. "Where are we going?" asked Melody.
A man's voice from behind a tinted black window responded, "You shall see for yourself."
Finally they arrived at an imposing older building that resembled a castle, complete with a moat. It was like Melody had stepped backwards in time. Waiting to greet her were Robin Simpson from one of her math classes and another girl she didn't know, who wore her hair in two black buns. As the rain drops began falling steadily, Robin stepped up to Melody and handed her a black blazer with a llama crest on it.
"Go ahead, put it on," squealed the other girl. "You're one of us now!" Melody squinched, but eventually she put on her blazer.
Her mind began to wander. Examining the medieval decor, she gazed upon the grim reaper phone, a special phone with an amber glow. Could it be possible, she thought, rubbing her chin, that one had the power to control death itself? Melody was familiar with itches, and like all the rest, this one tickled at her, refusing to go away.
"Don't even think about it," came a whisper.
Melody whipped around to come face to face with none other than Jessica McClellan, Chester's girlfriend.
"What do you want?" Jessica asked, her voice taking on a sinister cadence. "I've been watching you, Tinker."
"Likewise," came the tart reply.
Jessica blanched at the thoughts of being 'observed.' Even though they were wearing the same colors, there was no love lost between them.
"I love him," Jessica replied, "and there's nothing you can do or say about it."
"I know your type," Melody shot back, "you don't love anyone but yourself. Does he know about you and Chaz?"
"Oh, please!" Jessica cried. "I wouldn't touch Chaz Whippler with a ten foot pole!"
"That's not what I've heard."
"Oh really. And where exactly did you get your information? The guy himself?" Jessica chuckled. "He's so in love his his car, I'm surprised he hasn't married it by now."
It was a cruel shot, and Melody winced at Jessica's crudeness. But she was not done. "And what the heck do you know? You're no different. You're so in love with your robots and telescope, you make no time for anything or anyone else."
Melody took a deep breath. Her mind flashed back, to the insults hurled at her by Sarah and the girls at Hanover Academy. Jessica's rant and Sarah's became indistinguishable. "That was harsh, Jessica."
"Demi told me, she found you stargazing!"
Melody shrugged. "What can I say, I love astronomy. Have since I was a little girl."
"You're an oddball, Tinker," Jessica chuckled. "I wonder what the heck Chester sees in you, he talks about you constantly."
"Just because Chester's your boyfriend and all, doesn't give you the excuse to belittle everyone else in his life!"
"Because I'm his girlfriend, who else does he need?"
Melody fumed. "Listen, sister. I've been in his life long before you even sauntered into the picture, and I'll be around long after you've sashayed your little way out of it. So let me give you a little piece of advice. Get used to it, okay?"