Virtual American Gothic - Second Season 
		   Episode Six

		Deadline
		by 
		Dana and Queribus
		<queribus@calweb.com)
*********************************************
NOT TO BE ARCHIVED TO A WEB PAGE WITHOUT 
THE AUTHOR'S PRIOR CONSENT.

Special guest stars:
Ileana Douglas as Sabbath Lightfoot
Piper Laurie as Marion Bridgley, librarian.
*********************************************

	The sun shone brilliantly, making rainbows in the 
grease stains on the windshield, and Gail cursed herself for 
forgetting her sunglasses. "As if that's all there is to think 
about", she sighed.
	She pulled the car over, climbed out and walked 
slowly, deliberately across the manicured lawn. Eventually 
she crossed in front of headstones, and knelt before one: 
Christine Emory. Gail crossed her chest and pulled her hair 
off her face.
 	"Mom, there's something I need to say.  You never 
told me I didn't have a choice. Why not? Why didn't I 
deserve to know? WHY?! I'm caught in the whole thing, and 
I don't know what else to do, I really don't. I've got to change 
things, make them better. This is the only way, the only way to 
set us free."
	Gail rose from her mother's grave, turned and laid 
a single yellow rose  across the dewy grass. Not a cloud in 
the sky above her, not a breath of wind, everything in Trinity 
was clean and bright and empty. Slowly, she walked back to 
her car, and got in.
	 Three rights and a left, pull over and park in front of 
 The Trinity Guardian, or what was left of it. Gail took her bag, 
left  the keys stuck in the ignition, and walked purposefully 
round the back of the brick building to where burned out 
boards let in the light. She broke them down and climbed 
over the charred mess. In all this time, why hasn't anyone 
done anything with this place, she thought. 
	She wandered  around the building, collecting bits 
of litter, wood, the broken husk of her mother's old music 
box, and made a small pile in an open space of the floor. 
She pulled a lighter from her purse, lit one of the broken 
pieces, and sat back, letting the flame clear her mind, relax 
her. 'This is the thing to do', she repeated like a mantra.
	She took the farmhouse photo out of her pocket, 
tossed it onto the little fire. As the edges burned, the finish 
bubbled, Gail smiled to herself.
	Reaching once more into her huge bag, she took her 
press pass, laid it next to her. Open side up, no mistaking. 
My life, just like my Mom's, together at last. Then she pulled 
the little gun from the bag. Tiny, silver, compact.
	She placed the gun very carefully between her lips, 
("And swallow like the rest of us.") closed her eyes. Took a 
long deep breath. 
	"Well, the Buck stops here." She smiled, before closing 
her mouth tightly around the barrel and pulling the trigger.

****

	The woman sat up in a sweat, her dark hair plastered 
to her forehead. "That had to have been just a dream. Either 
that or all that acid mom used to take found it's way into my 
bloodstream after all." 
	The woman in her dream had told her to read the letter. 
Sabbath Lightfoot knew which letter she meant, knew where 
she'd kept it all these years. Mom had said, "You'll know when 
to read it. And not a minute earlier."   This dream woman had 
said, "Read the letter now. It's time, Sabbath." Then she put a 
gun in her mouth and blew her brains out.
	Sabbath crossed her tiny rented room and opened the 
delicate music box she carried in her rucksack. Removing the 
crinkled envelope, she drew a deep breath.
	<I need music for this, and tea. Defiinitely.>
	Putting on an old tape of The Grateful Dead, she put 
the little kettle over the two ring burner the landlord tried to 
pass off as a stove. Her hands shook a little, she'd had 
nightmares before but not quite this . .. graphic. Tea ready, 
she sat on the bed and opened the envelope.

	"Sabbath:
	You and I had so many adventures. We learned so 
many ways of life, met so many people and saw so many 
places. I know you wanted to learn more about us, and I 
know I never told you much. I wont give you all the answers
here, but I will give you a few ideas.
	When I was 16, I ran away from home, as you know. 
My family were close minded, they lived in fear and hate, and 
for reasons I never knew. I thought, for me, there was a better 
way. We found so many ways, didn't we? However, I never 
shook home. I guess you can run forever, but getting 
somewhere is another story.
	My home town was Trinity, South Carolina. You may 
wish to go, you may not. Either way, it is a part of who we are, 
and it is a part of your quest.
	Let me tell you, love, it is as far from my Utopia as 
anything I can imagine.
	I know everything you choose to do with your life will 
make me proud. I will always be with you, from the next life, 
and you need never doubt this.
	Sometimes I wonder if our ways were wrong, and I 
denied you a normal life. Normal friends, birthday parties, all 
the things that children growing up in the suburbs have. But I 
look at you, your beautiful smiling face, and I know that we 
were right all along.
	Go ahead, my darling, and find your way. I will 
always light your path,
	Mother"

	"Damn hippie crap." Sabbath wiped the tears from 
her eyes, finished her tea and lay back. "Time to keep moving, 
I guess."

********

	Lucas Buck came out of his inner office, his brow 
furrowed. No clouds, no wind, none of the usual signs but. . .
	"What's the problem, Lucas?"
	"Not exactly sure, Ben. Something ain't right."
	The phone rang like a siren. Ben nearly jumped out of 
his skin before picking it up.  "Yes ma'am. We'll be right there."
	Lucas raised an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation.
	"Old Mrs Jackson reckons she heard a gunshot."
	"She know where it came from?"
	"No, just said it sounded close."
	"Well, Ben, let's move on it. Why the hell not?"
	They climbed into Ben's squad car, Ben driving. Old 
Mrs Jackson was on her front porch, waiting.
	"First I heard a shot, now I see the old Guardian 
building's on fire!"
	Lucas and Ben looked down the street to see flames 
just creeping up to one window.
	Another fire in the Guardian?
	"Ben, we got to move."
	As much as Lucas Buck had ever hurried, he was 
hurrying now. The flames were not terribly bad, maybe some 
kids playing with matches, easily contained.
	Something else he saw, though, worried him.
	The red Mustang was parked right in front of the 
building. Empty, like the sky.
	Lucas ran into the building, pushing aside rubbish and 
planks as he went. The whole place was held together with 
nothing but ashes and smoke.
	He came to a sharp stop, caught his breath.
	"Son of a BITCH!"
	Ben caught up to him, panting.
	"Aw, hell, Lucas! That's Gail Emory!" 
	"Congratulations, you've just won the living room 
set, Sherlock."
	"Lucas, shouldn't we call an ambulance?"
	"You go get on the radio, Ben. NOW!"
	Ben turned and ran outside.
	Lucas knelt next to Gail's body. Still warm, of course, 
blood leaving what was left of her skull with babbling brook 
noises. Almost peaceful, provided you weren't looking.
	"This ain't over, Gail. Not by a long shot." Lucas 
placed his hand squarely on Gail's belly. He closed his eyes, 
trying to detect the heartbeat of the child only he knew was 
inside. Nothing.
	He reached across her, took a scrap of paper out of 
her pocket, and put it into his own. A gust of wind rattled 
through the building's husk and the fire went out.

***********

	Sabbath Lightfoot took the overnight and arrived in 
Trinity at eight next day. One good thing for being her, she 
traveled light. All her belongings fitting into one rucksack, just 
as mom had shown her. "Who needs material goods? We can 
barter and trade for all we really need. The earth takes care 
of her own." She pulled her long tie dye skirt from the back 
of her thighs, where it stuck from the humid bus ride.
	It was a nice enough place, seemingly genteel even in 
the parts of town where they put the bus station. Clean and 
quiet with gentle air from the tidewater cooling the morning. 
	She stopped into a shop that was just opening up, 
hoping to get a bottle of water. The little man, setting out a 
basket of ten-penny nails, looked at her askance. "Yeah, we 
got some water, nothing fancy, mind."
	Sabbath counted out what was left of her money after 
the bus ticket. Lots of quarters.  "I'm also looking for a place 
to get a room."
	"On your own, are you?" Cecil Perkins regarded 
her warily.
	"Yes. Just me."
	After a moment the shopkeeper pushed his mouth 
into a little crimped smile. "You might as well try Ms. Holt's 
place, just about 100 yards up and on the right. She'll do you 
right if anybody does."
	Paying for her water, Sabbath smiled and thanked 
him.
	"So you got business in town, miss?"
	"Yessir. Family business."
	"The damnedest kind."
	Low swinging trees lined the streets, the air sweet 
and musty, even as the wind blew. One house stood out, 
imposing like a white ship on the sea. The flowers around it 
brighter, the wide front porch beckoning and safe. Sabbath 
climbed the front stairs, patting the head of a little whitewashed 
angel that perched on the railing. She knocked on the door
which opened immediately.
	"Miss Holt?"
	"That depends what you looking for, child."
	"Um, I couldn't tell you. I need a room."
	"Then I'm Ms. Holt. Come on in." She had large eyes 
which seemed both frightening and serene.
	The house was clean and homey, there was a 
comforting feeling about it, safe. The feeling her mother had 
spent her life looking for had been right here all along.
	"It's just me on my own, and I'd have to work for 
it. I can do a good many things- sew, cook, clean-"
	"We can discuss the payment methods later. I had 
a . . .guest leave yesterday, there's plenty of room. You go 
on upstairs, third on the left. The room's a little small and 
hasn't been used for awhile, but I think you might find a 
way to make it your own." Loris looked her up and down. 
"Then you draw yourself a bath, right next door."
	Sabbath lowered her eyes to her dirty hands, smiled 
slightly.   "Thank you, ma'am."
	She took herself up the stairs and out of sight.
	Loris Holt raised her eyes to the heavens and let out 
a long sigh. "Lord, give me strength"

****************

	Quite a crowd had gathered around the Guardian no 
sooner than the ambulance pulled up. Ben worked crowd 
control, answering questions in the vague manner law 
enforcement will before a statement is made, family 
members informed. Lucas's orders at the front of his mind.
	"You keep your eyes out for the boy, Deputy. He 
does NOT need to see this."
	As always, Danielle Davenport was there, microphone 
at the ready, waiting for Lucas. She knew the drill, wait for 
the Sheriff, the deputy isn't gonna say diddly. Ben surveyed the 
area, looking out for Caleb. Poor kid, this isn't exactly what 
he needs.
	The paramedics rounded the corner, body on a 
stretcher, sheet covering the head.
	"WHO IS IT?? WHO IS IT??" The press crowded 
around the ambulance ready in the sheet might slip.
	Lucas Buck followed behind, dusting his clothes of 
the dust and ash. Charred and splintered boards fell to the 
ground with a crash. Whole damn building could fall to 
pieces now. No reason to keep it around anymore. 
	"No comment until family is contacted. Go on home, 
show's over, people."
	Of course no one shifted. Some more of the old 
Guardian creaked and crashed to oblivion.
	"PEOPLE! There's nothing you're gonna find out 
here until the victim's family is notified! Go on home, Danielle 
can fill you all in personally at 5 o'clock."
	Danielle lowered her mike, even with no statement, 
a personal nod from Lucas Buck was like a validation from 
AnchorPersonGod.

*****

	Ben paced the office floor, top to bottom. Lucas sat 
still as death at the front desk, only his thumb and pinkie finger 
tapping softly on the desktop.
	"When you gonna tell Caleb, Lucas? WHAT you 
gonna tell him? That poor kid, he's lost everyone now- he 
got-"
	"Shut up, Ben. He has ME. I'm all the family that 
boy will ever need."
	"He may not agree with you on that, Lucas."
	 Remembering the paper he had taken from Gail, 
Lucas took it from his pocket, opened it up.
	"Dear Gail,
	I'm real sorry for what I done to you and your baby. 
I hope you forgive me, cause I'm a changed man.  
	Your cousin, Caleb."
	"Doesn't appear to have much choice now." Lucas 
scrunched the note up tight, and threw it into the wastebasket.
	He stood up, the chair falling over behind him. Pulling 
on his coat, Lucas left the office, slamming the door shut.

*******

	Caleb sat in class, pretending to pay attention. He and 
Boone had some fun planned. Boone's daddy was helping 
Boone build a treehouse, and today Caleb was invited to help. 
It was gonna be a real good day all round. There was a knock 
on the classroom door. Smiling, Lucas poked his head round 
the corner and used it to nod Caleb out the door. Caleb glanced 
to his teacher, who nodded 'ok'. Caleb got up and followed Lucas 
out the door.
	"Need some help playing hooky again? Cause I'm 
your man!"
	"Come on with me, son. I have to talk to you about 
something important."
	Who's dead now, Caleb thought again.
	Lucas and Caleb left the school grounds, and walked 
together to the river.
	"Sit down, son."
	Puzzled, Caleb sat on the damp, prickly grass.
	"Caleb, there's been what can only be described as a 
terrible tragedy. It breaks my heart to come to you with the 
news. Your cousin Gail died today."
	Caleb looked up, mouth open. Disbelief.
	"She shot herself, Caleb. Took her own life."
	Caleb, not moving, not speaking.
	"We found her about an hour ago, in the old Guardian 
building."
	Tiniest whisper: "She hated me."
	"No, son. She didn't like what you done, true, but 
you're her blood. Nothing changes that. You stick with your 
blood."
	"No, Lucas. NO!! She hated me for what I done to her 
and her baby! I killed her baby now she's killed herself because 
she can't stand to look at me no more!"
	Caleb got up and ran to the water's edge, then threw
himself in.

**********

	Clean as whistle, Sabbath climbed down the boarding 
house stairs, exploring just a bit. Masks hanging on walls, a sweet 
scent of herbs drew her from room to room.
	On the kitchen table was a teapot, steam escaping its 
spout.
	"Have a little bit of chamomile tea,." Loris leaned 
against the counter, her hair tucked up under an elaborately 
knotted grey scarf.  Sabbath sat on a plain wooden chair easily 
a hundred years old and poured herself a cup.
	"What brings you here?"
	"Divine intervention," Sabbath cracked.
	"Don't joke about that. It happens more times than 
you think."
	Sabbath cocked an eyebrow. Oh great, another 
hippie freak.
	"My mother, before she died, she wrote me a letter. 
Finally I was told to read it. So I did, and she's talking about 
Trinity. In order to go forward, I guess I have to go back. So 
I'm here."
	"Your mother from here?"
	"That's what she says. You know her, maybe? She ran 
away when she was sixteen or so. Never came back."
	"It's possible, My family have been here a long time." 
Loris pulled up another chair and sat with her new boarder. 
"What's your mother's name?"
	"Um...." Sabbath laughed.
	"What's funny?"
	"Well, her NAME, and what she called herself, were 
two different things. Her first name was Theresa, officially. Last 
name is Lightfoot."
	Loris sipped her tea, considering.  "I don't believe I 
know any Lightfoots in the area."
	"Well, there again, it was what she called herself. I don't 
know what it was before that."
	"Then I guess you've got some researching to do, 
Sabbath."
	"Yeah, I guess so."

******

	"You coming out of there, boy, or do I have to come 
in after you?"
	"I ain't coming out, Lucas! Cant you see I'm trying to 
drown myself?!"
	"Son, you ain't drowning. You're floundering."
	"NO! I'm gonna drown, Lucas! I ain't got no family! 
I lost Mama, I lost Merly, now I lost Gail, too."
	Caleb splashed about in the water, his striped shirt 
forming a bubble around him.
	"It ain't right I got to lose my family like that! I got to 
be some sort of.....BAD SEED or something! I got to put 
things right!"
	Caleb sucked in a deep breath and went under.
	Lucas watched a minute before he waded into the 
river. Grabbing the boy by his shirt, he hauled Caleb onto 
the bank.
	"Caleb, what you got to do is understand only one 
thing. You got ME. I am all the family you are ever gonna 
need, your whole life through. I'm never going to leave you 
on your own. I'm never gonna go away. I'm stayin right here."
	Caleb, soaking, put his head into his folded arms and 
cried.
	"I didn't mean to kill her baby. I don't know what 
made me do it."
	"You weren't yourself, son. It was....stress."

************

	The teacups were empty, the sandwiches finished 
and all that was left was Sabbath and Miss Holt at the 
table. 
	A little girl played outside, skipping rope with 
counting rhymes. There were two children staying here, 
according to Ms Holt. That should be nice, thought Sabbath, 
being around kids again. A pot of soup bubbled on the 
stove for dinner. Vegetarian, just like she needed. 
	"You know, Ms Holt, I could cook for myself if 
that would be easier." 
	Loris looked at her sternly. "No. That's why people 
pay rent." Her stare softened slightly. "We might talk over 
recipes sometime, if you like. As long as they have nothing 
to do with peaches."
	Sabbath nodded ok. Loris stirred the soup until it 
smelled luscious.
	"Now about your mother. You might go look in 
the library, or the hall of records. You have no information 
at all?"
	"Only what's in the letter. She never talked about 
anything that happened before she ran away. Wasn't into 
it at all."
	"Well, that's my suggestion. Got to be a birth record 
for a Theresa Somebody somewhere. You do know her 
birthday, yes?"
	"Yeah."
	"There you go then."
	They clinked the empty cups together.
	"Well, Sabbath, welcome home."

*******

	Lucas led Caleb, wrapped in blankets, into his 
inner office.
	"BEN! Drum us up some hot chocolate. And an 
eclair."
	Lucas shut the door behind them.
	"Lucas....how'd Gail do it?"
	"She shot herself in the head, Caleb. It wasn't 
pretty. She didn't mean to miss."
	"She gonna have a funeral?"
	"Do you want her to? Do you want a funeral to go 
to, Caleb?"
	"No sir, I don't. I never want to go to another funeral 
in my whole life. I don't even want one when I die."
	"Then I'll take care of the arrangements myself. Don't 
you worry."
	Caleb sat still,  his eyes lowered to the ground.  
"She hated me."
	"No, son. She had other things to worry about."

**********

	Sabbath followed directions to the library. It was an 
old building, once rather grand but now quite shabby. She 
asked her way to the history section and got a bemused smile 
and a vague wave into some side room. The sign said history, 
but most of the books were science fiction, some cookbooks, 
too. Tracing the history of Trinity was going to be harder 
than she thought. A bulletin Board took up most of the side 
wall.  "HELP WANTED. NO EXPERIENCE NECESSARY."
	Pushing the useless books aside, Sabbath took the 
sign to the front desk. The woman she handed it to, handed it 
right back as if, what does this have to do with me.
	"I'd like to apply. What's the job?"
	The librarian stared at her for a moment, ran her 
hands through her dark red hair and smiled wickedly. "Well, 
it's sort of a job to do everything. Stack shelves, clean some, 
organize a whole lot. You may have noticed a few books are 
misfiled." She waved her long fingernails vaguely. "Maybe help 
with displays. Read to school groups. It's a lot of work and 
not a lot of pay"
	"I'd still like to apply."
	"That's a change, I've usually driven applicants away 
by now. What's your name?"
	"Sabbath Lightfoot. I'm staying at Ms Holt's."
	"New here?"
	"Brand new."
	"I don't suppose you know anything about library 
work?"
	"I've read books all my life."
	"Good enough. Job's yours. You can start today."
	"Uh- yeah, okay."
	"I haven't had a chance to sort children's fiction for 
awhile." She smiled again, provocatively. Sabbath kinda 
doubted this woman had ever stacked any book, anywhere. 
"You can start there."
	"Okay. Thanks!"
	"I'm Marion Bridgley, chief librarian. Just remember, 
it's minimum wage." She picked up her Jackie Collins novel 
and started reading it again.
	"Well, it's a step up for me, then. Thanks!"
	Sabbath trotted between the stacks until she found 
the mess that was children's fiction.

**********

	"Caleb, you may want to stay at my place tonight. 
Maybe for a little while even. Till things settle down and you 
can make decisions."
	"Whatever."
	"I got to call a press conference. You can come with 
me if you want to, or you can stay here with Ben. I warn you, 
they will be asking a lot of questions with answers you might 
not want to hear right now."
	"I can take it. I got to be a man, now."
	"That's true, son. I got faith in you. Let's dry you off, 
then we'll get to work."

*************

	The assembled press were outside the front of the 
Sheriff's office. Microphones waving every which way, 
cameras flashing. Caleb stood behind Lucas.
	"Ladies and gentlemen, it upsets me deeply to 
announce this death. What we have here is a female, late 
twenties, died of a gunshot wound to the head. Self-inflicted."
	"Who was she?"
	"Miss Gail Emory. Journalist from Charlotte. 
Cousin of Caleb Temple."
	Whispers and murmurs.
	"Did she leave a note?"
	"No, no note was found. We believe the motive 
was stress over a recent miscarriage."
	"She was carrying YOUR baby, wasn't she, Buck??"
	Lucas winced. "No comment."
	The press shouted louder and louder, as Lucas led 
Caleb off the podium and into the office.
	"She didn't have a miscarriage Lucas. I killed that 
baby."
	"No, son, not this time."

***********

	Sabbath worked her fingers to the proverbial bone. 
It was after 5 p.m. before she had finished, but it was a job 
well done. Mrs Bridgley strolled around the corner and 
glanced at the shelves. 
	"Well, they actually look organized, Miss Lightfoot. 
I'm locking up, can we expect you tomorrow?"
	"Yeah, 9, right?"
	"9:30 might be even better. We all need our beauty 
sleep. Plan on staying late, I might sic you on non-fiction. 
Straight pay, no overtime. See ya." She sauntered off on her 
four inch Ferragamo pumps.
	Sabbath ran home, ready to tell Miss Holt about her 
new job, that she could pay for the room herself.
	Miss Holt was sat before the television, tears running 
down her cheeks.  Sabbath crossed the room and stood next 
to the chair.
	"What's wrong?"
	"Caleb, the boy I told you about, his cousin died 
today. She shot herself." 
	"Jesus!"
	"That poor boy has seen more death than all of us 
put together."
	"I don't know what to say."
	"Save your words. Caleb needs prayers, now."
	They sat together and watched the local news updates 
throughout the evening.
	"Will he be coming home tonight, do you think?" 
Sabbath ventured.
	"I doubt it, Sabbath. He'll be with his father."

*******

	Caleb curled himself into a tight little ball in the middle 
of the cold dark bed in the cold dark bedroom. He'd looked 
in every mirror he could find, but Merly's face wasn't in any 
of them. Wouldn't be, he guessed, not in this house. Maybe 
he'd never see her again. Maybe he was just too bad now.
	"I can be good again, Merly, don't give up on me 
like Gail did." Caleb shut his eyes real tight ignoring the pale 
light shining in from the open door. It was a long time before 
the door closed and he was alone.

*******

	Sabbath walked upstairs, wondering why a boy with 
a local father would live at a boarding house, and how one 
little boy could have so much bad karma.
	"Sounding just like you, mom." She shook her head.
She cracked her window open a bit to get the night air. The 
scent of night-blooming jasmine filtered in from the back 
garden. Sabbath climbed into her new bed, in her new home, 
contemplating her new life. She closed her eyes and drifted 
off to sleep.
	Sabbath was sitting in a field, and the dream woman 
approached her.
	"I know you, Gail, you were on TV, just now."
	Gail held out her hand, and Sabbath took it.
	They walked to a small home, past a sign in the 
doorway, "Welcome Home Theresa!"
	The house was decorated with balloons, streamers, 
all pink. 'It's a Girl!' cigars sat in a glass by the door.
	A woman sat on the sofa, showing off her new baby, 
Theresa. Despite her husband's happiness the woman 
seemed pensive, her mind elsewhere.
	"That's mom?"
	Gail nodded.
	Sabbath followed Gail outside, away from the house.
	Behind them, a red mailbox on a wooden post, the 
last name painted on it in large white letters.
	CROSS.


****	THE END   ****