CHAPTER FIVE

Tuesday 21 July, 3:55pm

"Ford?"

Ford turned away from his boring observation of the hostages at gunpoint, "What?"

"We need to talk."  He indicated the hostages Ford had been watching over.  "Leave them.  They're not going anywhere."

Ford got out of the chair and joined Stark in the corridor by the storeroom.

Stark was still angry.  "Why did those damned protestors have to pick that exact moment to start a fight?  We should've been in and out.  We would've been home free."

"How come that guy was onto us so fast?  He pulled a gun on us."

"I don't know," replied Stark.  "But he won't be doing that to anyone else for a while.  It's more important that we figure out a way outta here.  The explosives are gonna blow whatever happens and we need to be long gone when they do." 

"But this place is surrounded," said Ford, weakly.  "We're never gonna get out of here."

Stark pulled the blinds on the corridor window back a little to see snipers on the roof across the alley.  Coldly he spoke, "We'll get away.  And we'll leave the explosives here.  We won't get them out anyway."  He lowered his gaze to the entrance to the alleyway to see two cop cars blocking that exit.  Police officers, with their guns drawn, leaning across the hoods.  "We're gonna have to use the hostages.   Show them we're serious.  Use that to get us transportation out."

"You think they'll go for that?"

"I'm not planning on making it an option.  What time is it?"

"Nearly four."

"Right," said Stark.  "We go back in there and tell the negotiators we want a truck to get us out of here.  In exchange we'll give them the hostages."

"You really think it's gonna work?" asked Ford.  "As simple as that?"

"It might if we shoot one of the hostages.  Let 'em know we're serious.  Hell, I've already shot one guy today.  What's another?  Let's go."

They re-entered the salon and felt the gaze of all the hostages fall on them.  Stark crossed to the telephone and picked it up.  "I want a truck outside and clear passage out of here or I'm shooting a hostage.  You've got fifteen minutes."  He hung up without waiting for an answer.  He turned to the hostages.  "So, which one of you is it gonna be?" he asked.

The entire group of hostages visibly cowered against the wall.

~~SMK~~

Tuesday 21 July, 4:05pm

"Are they nuts?" Francine asked her partner.  "How on earth do they think they're gonna get out of here in a truck?"

"Do you really think they're serious about shooting a hostage?"

"There's no reason to think not, Amanda.  I mean, shooting Davies didn't seem to bother them."

"Yes, but he was armed.  These people are unarmed, defenseless."

Francine saw the concern in Amanda's eyes.  She reached out to place her hand on Amanda's arm.  "She'll be all right, Amanda."

"You don't know that."

Francine looked a little guilty at that.  She shook her head.  "You're right, I don't.  Look, Amanda, we'll get her out of there."

"I hope so."

"Hey!  We're the best…well, almost."  Francine winked. 

Amanda smiled.  "We will get her out, Francine.  And the others.  Lee would expect nothing less, right?"

"Right."  She nodded.

Amanda pulled the blueprints back to the surface of the desk in front of her in the Command Center.  "The only way I can see to go in is along the alleyway, here."  She pointed to the map, indicating the delivery entrance.  "We know there are only two of them and they can't watch the back and the front easily if they're distracted or something."

"So, maybe we can use the phone to distract them while we sneak in the back door."

"And if they shoot the hostages?" Amanda was chewing her lip again.

"We're gonna have to be quick so they don't have time to realize what's happening.  Besides, they don't seem to be very smart."

"I'm just worried about mother, Francine.  I'm scared what could happen to her."

"You can't let it cloud your professional judgment, Amanda.  You have a job to do.  The Agency and all the hostages are counting on you.  You have to set aside your emotions."

"What?  Like you and Cooper?"  She attempted a laugh.

"Er, no, not like that," Francine hedged.  "You know what he said to me?"

"No, what?" Amanda asked, curiously.

"Women were too unstable for police work.  Of course, he waited until we'd been out on a few…er…dates by then.  Said he was just indulging me."

"What did you do?"

"I indulged him, all right.  Right into next week!"  She grinned.  "I got over him in a hurry.  Not that there was much to get over.  I don't know what I was thinking."

"Was this before the Station One thing?"

Francine nodded.  "About a month before.  I couldn't believe it when I heard what had happened on the overnight exercise, but that's a story for another time.  We have work to do here."

Amanda cleared her throat.  "Yes."

"We need to get in there right now, Amanda.  Are you ready?"

"Just you and me?" asked Amanda, hesitantly.  She wouldn't have thought twice about it if she had been with Lee, but this was Francine!  And her mother's life could be at stake. 

"Amanda, you've been a full agent for almost a year now.  Besides, I've read your personal file."

"You have?"

"Yes."  She winked.  "And Lee's told me about some of the scrapes you've both gotten into that didn't make it to the official files.  We can handle this."

"You're sure?"

"Yes.  I'm sure.  One of us needs to go in and create a diversion.  While they're not paying attention, the other one gets the drop on them."

"Maybe I should create the diversion?  Lee always says my black-belt in confusion is my secret weapon."

"He's got that right," Francine responded sarcastically.  Amanda shot her a dark look and Francine grinned.  "Hey!  I'm just agreeing with your husband.  Look, you and I have had our differences over the years, but in spite of all that, I know that you'll back me up in a crisis.  We're a team."  She smiled.  "Though if anyone finds out I said that, there'll be big trouble!"  It was Francine's turn to glare at her partner.  "Now, are you coming?"

More positively, she said, "Yes, let's go, partner."  Amanda nodded as she took out her gun from her purse, and released the safety.  Francine did the same with her gun and the women exited the truck.

~~SMK~~

Tuesday 21 July, 4:15pm 

Stark looked at his watch.  "Seems like they didn't take me seriously," he said, coldly.  "You!"  He looked directly at Emelio.  "You're the boss around here, right?"  Emelio nodded and his face whitened, contrasting sharply with the bright colors of his suit.  "Stand up, and move over there.  Ford, help him."  With his hands taped together it was tricky to get to his feet, but with Ford's help he managed.  Ford pushed him to isolate him from the others. 

"Mr. Emelio," said Stark.  "I'm afraid I'm going to have to shoot you." 

"No-no," said Emelio, nervously.  "Surely that cannot be.  I have done nothing wrong.  What can I do?"

The whimpering from the hostages had started up again, and this time there was no Dotty to hold them all together.

"Unfortunately," Stark continued, "they have forced me to make a point.  They think they can sit and wait-"  The blast of a gun rang out as Stark shot his hostage, without missing a beat in his conversation. "while I get tired, or stupid or something."

Emelio looked quizzically at Stark.  He was still standing, but he'd heard a gun shot.  What was happening?  Stark nodded his head to indicate Emelio's arm and Emelio followed his gaze.  That was when he saw the expanding red patch of blood on his upper arm, blending with the orange fabric.  The orange-suited man fell backwards in a dead faint.  One of the hostages screamed as the telephone rang out.

"No!" shouted Stark into the phone.  "No one's dead.  But the proprietor is missing a small chunk of his arm.  Get me that truck, now!"  He slammed the receiver back onto the cradle.

~~SMK~~

Tuesday 21 July, 4:20pm

Wearing a bright red cleaner's smock, Amanda crouched by the rear door of Emelio's as she picked the lock.  Francine stood to the side and waited as Amanda disappeared inside, a mop and bucket in her hand.  She dropped the bucket heavily on the floor and started to mop, loudly. 

Hearing the noise in the corridor, Ford opened the door leading to the salon and, seeing Amanda at work in the hallway, cried out, "Who the hell are you?"

Neutrally, Amanda responded, "I'm the cleaner, who are you?"  She allowed her eyes to drop down to Ford's hand, holding a gun.  She feigned surprise.  "You have a gun," she said quietly.  "Why do you have a gun?" 

"Get in here!" yelled Ford. 

As Amanda stepped into the salon, her eyes scanned the room.  Her stomach gave a leap when she saw her mother wasn't amongst the captives.  Where is she?  Her thoughts were interrupted by an encouraging shove by Ford, forcing her to join the other hostages.

"Who are you?" salon owner Emelio asked weakly from where he sat on the floor.  With taped hands, he attempted to press a towel against the wound to staunch the bleeding. 

Ford looked suspiciously at Amanda but without skipping a beat Amanda replied, "I work with Janine at the agency.  You know, 'Come Clean?'  She fell on a newly mopped floor over at 'I'm Alive,' you know, the fitness center?  The one over at M street?  The bone just snapped, in two places, can you believe it?"  Emelio opened his mouth and looked puzzled, but before he could say anything further, Amanda rambled on.  "A compound fracture I think they call it.  She's going to be on crutches for weeks so the Agency just gave me the keys and the instructions and I came on over."

Suddenly, Stark exploded.  "God! Another talker!  Listen lady.  I don't know how you got in here-"

Amanda interrupted.  "In here?  Well, I used the key, I have the key, so I just opened it right up and came in.  The bucket was right where Janine said it would be – I saw her over at the hospital – and she said it would be in the bathroom and it was, so I just came right on in and started working.  Of course, I didn't know there'd be people with guns here.  If I'd known that, I wouldn't have taken the job.  Why do you have a gun?"  Amanda took a breath.

"AAARRRGGGHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  What is it with all the talking today?"  Stark pointed the gun at Amanda.  "Now look, lady.  Just sit down there with the rest of them."  Amanda sat on the floor.  "Did you lock the door behind you?"

"Of course I did.  I'll have you know I'm a certified, bonded mopper…"  Ouch, maybe that was a little too much? 

Ignoring Amanda, Stark gave an order.  "Ford, check out the back.  Make sure everything's secure."

"Right, Stark."

Ford pushed the door open and stepped into the corridor, the door closing behind him.  He felt something cold touch the side of his face.  He jumped at the sensation and swiveled around to see what it was but was met with the feel of steel against his forehead as Francine pistol-whipped him.  He fell to the ground, out cold. 

Francine reached for the door to the salon and quietly opened it.  She saw Stark with his back to her as Amanda stood before him, still talking.  Hoping to take advantage of the diversion, Francine stepped into the salon, gun drawn, and yelled, "Freeze!" 

Stark saw Francine's entrance reflected in the salon mirrors on the wall.  As Francine yelled, he grabbed Amanda and spun them around so that Amanda was placed between him and Francine.  Pointing his gun at Francine, he calmly said, "You freeze."  Francine sighed as Stark held out his hand.  She placed her gun into it.  "Who are you anyway?" he asked.

"I'm a cop," Francine replied.  "Just an off duty cop.  I heard what was happening on the radio."

"You expect me to buy that?  Hell, it's like Grand Central Station in here!  What is it?  Is there a sign on the back door saying welcome or something?" He looked back into the hallway.  "Ford!  Where'd you go?"

Francine replied, "I think he's sleeping right now."

"AAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I HATE women!!  Why did I even get up this morning?"

"Homeless shelter kick you out?" enquired Francine, sarcastically.  Stark forcibly pushed Francine towards the other hostages, causing her to stumble.  "Mind the heels, bub!  I've already lost one pair this week!"

"I think I'll just shoot myself now…it'll be easier."

"Works for me.  You can even use my gun if you want," responded Francine.  "Hi!" she said to the hostages as she leaned nonchalantly against the wall.

Amanda leaned in Francine's direction.  "I think this guy's losing it, Francine.  I think he's going to start shooting again soon.  He really looks like he's on the edge."

"Well, let's see if we can push him all the way over then, huh?  Hey, dogbreath!" Francine addressed their captor.  "Why don't you just give it up?  This place is surrounded you know."

"Why me?  Why do I get the mouthiest, noisiest, most annoying bunch of hostages ever on this planet?"

"Just lucky I guess," returned Francine.

"Hostages are never this much trouble on TV!" ranted Stark.

"Maybe you should watch another channel," razzed Francine.

Stark strode over to Francine.  "Maybe you should try keeping your mouth shut!"  With that he slapped Francine across her face.  Francine responded in the only way she knew how.  She raised her knee in a lifting motion.  At that second, Stark took a step backwards so Francine didn't get the full result she was hoping for and as Francine moved forward to follow through, Stark began to lift his gun to point at her.

"Noooooo!!!!" yelled Amanda, hitting Stark from the side at a full run.  His attention full on Francine, he hadn't seen her coming and the two of them ended up in a big heap on the floor, her hands reaching for the gun in his hand. 

The gun went off and Amanda heard an "Oomph," sound in the background.  She saw Francine fall to the ground. 

With Amanda distracted, Stark was able to push her off him and she was forced to take cover behind one of the chairs.  Stark fired at Amanda but his aim was way off and the bullet hit the hair dryer, pieces flying everywhere as the plastic cover smashed.  Amanda could see Francine lying on the floor but she couldn't reach her partner to check on her.  She saw Katy crawling towards Francine, then ducked as another bullet ricocheted off the upright metal part of the chair and Amanda had to dive away across the floor, landing amongst the miscellany of hair-care products that had fallen there earlier.  She grabbed several objects and threw them in Stark's direction.

Another shot rang out and this time plaster fell from the ceiling.  Diverted by Amanda, Stark's legs were swept from under him as he fired.  Francine had entangled her legs with his.  As he fell, Stark reached out with his gun hand to save himself and the gun fell from his hand, skittering across the floor out of reach. 

Amanda ran across the salon, with a pair of scissors in one hand and a can of hairspray in the other.  She pointed them both at Stark's face.  "Don't move.  I'm armed and I know how to use these."

Stark glanced at the scissors, then the can of in Amanda's hand and smirked.  "You've gotta be kidding."

"I wouldn't mess with a suburban housewife packing ultrahold," responded Francine.  "You'll come out worse, I can assure you."

Amanda thrust her can hand towards his face to emphasize Francine's warning.  The anger on Stark's face faded and he looked more like he was about to cry.  "Why me?  Why me?" he whimpered.

As Amanda looked to Francine, she could see a big red bloodstain spreading over the left shoulder of Francine's blouse.  "Are you all right?" Amanda asked.

"What?" replied Francine.  "Oh, the shoulder?  Yes, the shoulder is fine.  This blouse, however, was a designer original!"  She glared at Stark, "I should just shoot you now." 

Francine bent down to pick up the gun and covered Stark as Amanda rolled him onto his stomach.  Taking her cuffs from her jeans pocket, she handcuffed him behind his back.  Stark then shuffled himself around into a sitting position.

"Uh-oh," said Francine.  Amanda looked at her partner, who had turned very white.  She reached for a chair and placed it behind Francine who slumped into it.  "You'd better take this, too."  She handed the gun to Amanda. 

"Are you okay?"

"Sure," chuckled Francine, weakly.  In an attempt to deflect Amanda's concern she asked, "Didn't your mother tell you never to run with scissors?"

"My mother!" cried Amanda.  She looked to the hostages, "Did anyone see a lady here earlier, she's so tall," Amanda held her hand at her mother's height, "Her name's Dotty West."

"Dotty West?" questioned Katy quietly.  "She was here."

"Was?" asked a puzzled Amanda.  "So where did she go?"

"Well," Katy replied.  "She wouldn't stop talking, so he," she pointed to Stark, "locked her out back, in the storeroom."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" asked Francine.

Without even looking at her, Amanda said, "Shut up, Francine."  Amanda turned to the other hostages.  As she bent to cut through the tape on the first hostage, she said, "I think now would be a good time for you to get out of here."  To the newly freed hostage she said, "Can you take care of the others?"  The assistant nodded and Amanda addressed the grateful group.  "Be careful how you leave - through the front door would be best.  Katy, can you come here and look after Francine for me?"  Looking back at the hostages now starting to head towards the exit, "You.  Mr. Emelio isn't it?" 

"Yes," said the ashen-faced man, surveying the shop.

"When you get outside, tell them we need a paramedic in here."

"Yes," was the only reply as the man shuffled out the front.

"You might want to get one for yourself, while you're at it." Francine called to Emelio, as he left.

"Are you going to get Dotty?" Katy asked Amanda.

"I sure am."

"I left the other guy lying in the hallway, Amanda.  He's out cold.  Take some tape or something to tie him up."

~~SMK~~

Tuesday 21 July, 4:35pm

Amanda picked up the duct tape off the desk and headed out into the hallway.  When she got there, the hallway was empty.  Amanda looked at the storeroom door which was no longer closed.  The keys were dangling from the keyhole.  "Oh, well.  Here goes nothing."  With her best John Wayne swagger, gun pointing in front of her, Amanda stepped forward and pushed the storeroom door fully open.  What remaining color she had in her face drained as she looked into the face of her mother.  Ford, who had blood congealing in streaks down his face from the cut where Francine had hit him, was holding a bottle of peroxide to Dotty's eyes.   

"A-man-da!" cried out her mother.  "What are you doing here?"  Dotty's eyes fell to the gun in her daughter's hand.   "And what are you doing with that…that…that gun?"  Amanda saw confusion and fear in her mother's eyes.

Amanda thought calm authority was the way to go.  "Hello, Mother.  I see you've been having a busy day."

"I'll blind her," interjected Ford, squeezing the bottle so a little of the solution squirted into the room.  Amanda flinched but Dotty remained still.  "Now get out of my way."

"I don't think you're going anywhere.  And if you hurt my mother, I will be forced to shoot you."  Was that a bluff?  Even Amanda wasn't sure but she played the only card she had.

As Amanda looked into Ford's eyes, and attempted to stare him down, she could see nearly as much fear in his eyes as in those of her mother.  Calmly, she said, "Now, put down the bottle."  Silence.  No one moved.  Amanda raised the gun to point it directly at Ford's head over her mother's shoulder.

"Amanda?"  Dotty's voice cracked as she spoke her daughter's name. 

"You'll be okay Mother.  I can handle this," she said, as she continued to stare down the man threatening Dotty.

Suddenly, Dotty moved slightly, raising then lowering her foot sharply on Ford's instep.  He yelped and Dotty elbowed him in his ribs.  Surprised, Ford relaxed his grip on Dotty and she ran over to Amanda, who used her free hand to guide her mother behind her protectively.  Amanda now had her gun directly at Ford and he had no means of finding cover.

"All right, all right, I give up," he cried.  He backed up as far as he could go and allowed his body to slide down the wall to sit on the floor.  He put his head in his hands.

"Well, I don't understand what's going on, but I'm glad to see you, Amanda."

"I'm glad to see you too, Mother."  Amanda smiled and took her mother's hand in hers.  Surreptitiously, Amanda engaged the safety and placed the gun in the belt of her pants, at the small of her back.  She then took her Mother's other hand in her now free hand.

"Now tell me, young lady.  Why are you here?  And what are you doing with a gun?"

"A gun, Mother?" asked Amanda, with her best innocent expression.  "What gun?"  Amanda released her mother's hands and held her open hands to show her mother, as though showing her they were clean before dinner.

"Hmm," was Dotty's reply.  

Looking a little uncomfortable, yet very relieved, Amanda reached around and draped her arm around Dotty's shoulders.  "Let's get you out of here, Mother.  Explanations can wait." 

They exited the storeroom and Amanda locked the door behind her.  As they returned to the salon Dotty indicated the smock, "That's a lovely color on you, Amanda."

~~SMK~~

Tuesday 21 July, 4:50pm

Amanda removed the smock as she and her mother re-entered the salon.  A variety of people with different acronyms on the back of their jackets were present.  Amanda also recognized a couple of Agency colleagues.  The last of the hostages were being escorted outside, with blankets around their shoulders.  Paramedics were attending to Francine.

Amanda crossed to her partner.  "Are you sure you're going to be okay?"

"I'm sure, Amanda," said Francine crossly.  Then she relaxed a little.  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap like that."

"That's okay.  I wish I could come with you to the hospital, but I need to finish up here, you understand?"

"Of course, Amanda.  It's just a flesh wound.  No I don't need a gurney!" she exclaimed. 

The paramedic who was attending her flinched at her outburst as he tried to maneuver her onto the rolling stretcher.  "It's protocol," he said.  

"I don't care, I can walk.  It's just my arm."

"Francine, let the man do his job.  Listen.  I'll get someone from the Agency to come over to the hospital and pick you up.   Okay?  I mean, you really shouldn't be driving with your arm like that.  Not that you'd have a car there anyway."

"What?  Oh, okay Amanda.  Yes, you do that."  Reluctantly, Francine sat on the gurney, though she refused to lie down.  The EMT guy knew when not to press a patient too far. 

As Francine was being pushed through the door, Amanda called out, "When shall I tell Efraim to pick you up?"  She chuckled.

"What?  Nooooo!!"  The rest of Francine's expletives were muffled as the door to Emelio's closed behind her.

As the various law enforcement officials dispersed outside, Amanda dismissed the final Agency operative with instructions to call Beaman.  Just then, Emelio re-entered his salon, a bandage wrapped around his upper arm.  He stood framed in the doorway, surveying the scene, at the devastation that was once his salon.  His eyes swept from the mess to meet Dotty's gaze.  A look of recognition fell across his face.  "You!  Again!"

Dotty looked puzzled.  "Me again?"

"It…it…it was you.  You were here last time this place got trashed.  Those two men, brawling in here.  You were…you were under the dryer."  His attention turned to Amanda.  "You were here then, too!" he said, accusingly.

Amanda looked embarrassed.  "Erm…well…nice to see you again, Mr. Emelio," she feigned cheeriness.

"Nice?"  He spoke too calmly, then he erupted like Jamie's volcano with the little village at the bottom.  "Nice!?  Look what happened to my place!  Again!!!!  What is wrong with you?  You're a jinx!  How could this happen twice?  Why does this happen to me? Why?"  His mouth continued to open and close, but no further sounds were emitted.

A man in an Emergency Response Team vest came into the salon with a blanket in his hand.  He placed it around Emelio's shoulders.  "Mr. Emelio.  You really should come with me.  We're going to need a statement."

"But…this mess…but…" he squeaked, as he allowed himself to be led away.

As he turned, Amanda patted him on the shoulder.  "Don't you worry, Mr. Emelio.  It'll clean up.  Trust me.  It'll be as good as new in no time."  Emelio and the ERT man left, leaving Amanda alone in the salon with Dotty.  Amanda turned her attention to her mother, who was sitting behind the reception desk.  Amanda perched on the end of the desk and looked at her mother.  "Your hair looks nice," she said, a slight twinkle returning to her eyes. 

"Oh, very funny," Dotty replied, reaching up to touch her the rollers that were no longer firmly secured in her hair.  Amanda returned her mother's smile.  "I don't think I'd better go on my date looking like this."

"You could be right.  So, how are you Mother?"

"Me?  Oh, I'm all right Amanda.  A little shaky but nothing that a little Galliano and milk won't put right."  She smiled.  "Now, do you want to tell me what's going on?"

Amanda started to study the floor tiles.  "No.  Not really, Mother."

"Well, tough," Dotty replied.

"Later, Mother.  We need to get out of here."

Suddenly, Dotty looked at her daughter.   "Amanda?"

"Yes, Mother?"

"With all those people milling around here just now…I didn't see anyone with a jacket that said 'Bomb Squad.'  Don't you think that's odd?"

Amanda looked curiously at her mother.  "Bomb squad?  Why would there be anyone here from the Bomb Squad?"

"To defuse the bomb, silly."

Now Amanda was looking worried.  "Bomb?"

"Yes, didn't I tell you?  When I was in the storeroom, I heard them talking.  They said 'the bomb is set for 5 o'clock.  Something like that anyway."

"Something like that, Mother?  "What did they actually say?"

"Five o'clock.  I'm sure they said five o'clock."

"Did they have it with them when they came in?  Did you see a bomb, Mother?"

"Well…let me think…when they came in I was under the dryer so I didn't really see them.  But I think I saw a bag or something earlier.  Now where did they put it?"  Dotty started looking under the desk and looking around the salon.  Amanda did likewise.

"Could this be it Mother?"  Amanda had found a backpack on a chair that had swivelled to face the wall during the scuffle, hiding it from view. 

"What?"

"I think I've found it."  Carefully, Amanda, opened the bag

"Amanda," interrupted Dotty.

"Not now, Mother."

"Amanda," said Dotty, more firmly.

"Mother, I've got to do this carefully.  Please don't distract me.  Now shush."

"Amanda West-King-Stetson, don't you shush me."

Amanda stopped what she was doing and looked over to her Mother.  "Mo-ther."

"It's five o'clock, Amanda."

"So, it's getting late.  We'll be out of here in a second."

"Amanda," said Dotty, sounding more desperate now.  "Five o'clock….  The bomb."

Amanda had already returned her attention to the bag and was looking inside.  She stared at a big red LCD clock that was counting backwards.  0:13…0:12…0:11  "Mother, Run!!!!"

Dotty stared back only to be grabbed by an advancing Amanda who half pushed, half dragged her mother out of the door to the salon. 

Amanda just had time to yell, "Bomb!!!" when Emelio's hair salon blew up.  The windows exploded, throwing shattered glass and brick fragments into the street and Amanda and her mother to the ground from the force of the blow.  They lay on the pavement in a heap, dust and debris falling around them.  Amanda looked up.  "Are you all right, Mother?  Mother?"

Dotty sat up.  "What?  Oh, Amanda!  How will I ever face Mr. Emelio again?"

"Oh, Mother," returned Amanda and laughed.

~~SMK~~SMK~~SMK~~