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Willow Wisp Sept 29, 2022 14:09:13 GMT

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Post by Admin on Sept 29, 2022 14:09:13 GMT

pdsh.fandom.com/wiki/Will_O%27_The_Wisp

Gale Leary
Willow Wisp
Key Comicx

carries a magic willow branch

causes her to glow
gives her some kind of resistance to attack and damage

her willow branch apparently gave the man who killed her mother a heart attack
her willow branch apparently made the man who crippled her father shoot himself in the head
she points the branch at someone and knocks him down

The early events in the comic (The Key #1, comicbookplus.com/?dlid=73895) occurred in 1920, not 1925, and the rest of the story in that edition occurs in 1940.

This story deviates from the original after the first story in The Key #1, so this character is different than the one who appears in issues 2, 3, 4, 5

Characters:
Father: Greg Leary, District Atorney, unnamed city. Both his legs are broken in the origin story.
Mather: Martha Leary. She is murdered by gangsters in the origin story.
Gale: an infant in the opening who grows up without a mother (but she always feels her mother's presence)

Judge Lands: the judge on the case Leary has just finished in the origin, in which the gangster boss Bob Evans is convicted.

Jack Snave: Stepson of Bob Evans after Evans changes his name. Evans married Jack's mother for her money, and she has since passed away. Jack has a ranch outside of the city given to him in his mother's will; he rarely spends time there. Step father 'Snave' is using it for black market smuggling.

Boss Bob Evans - a crooked politicial who swindled the city for a big sum, sentenced to 20 years. He broke out of prison, ordered his henchman kill Martha, broke Greg's legs, and then left the city and assumed another identity and nobody was ablt to track him. To keep Gale from crying after her father's screams woke her up, he broke a branch from a potted willow tree and handed it to her. Evans adopts the new identity of Bob Snave, and goes into a new business in a new city. He remains in politics and is able to protect smugglers from the law. Maybe a state senator?

Red Brandois - a thug who works for Evans, was not imprisoned, helped Evans break jail, killed Martha on Evans orders, then fled to another city and became a big shot. In 1940 he tried to expand his territory back into his home city and he was captured and sent to jail.

The willow branch was amazing - Gale kept near her always - and it never wilted or drooped. When she carried it with her, she always felt the presence of her mother nearby, watching over her and guiding her, and she always felt stronger and more confident when she was holding it. She always seemed to make better, ore mature decisions when she talks to it and calls on its guidance. The guidance of the branch is always compassionate.

In the first story when Red is captured and sent to jail, she dresses in an outfit of her mother's and gets Judge Lands to get the police to let her into the jail to talk to Red. Before she faces him, she stops to consult the willow branch. She is surprised when she is filled with anger, and she is surrounded by a glow and her body becomes slightly translucent. It is quite possible that the glow makes her features change so that she looks exactly like her mother. It is also possible that the power of the branch stopped Red's heart, because when he saw the woman he thought he'd killed 20 years ago, he died instantly of a heart attack.

In the second story, Gale and Gregg are going on vacation. Gregg is pretty frail. Gale chooses the destination; they take a train. When they arrive, they find that the hotel they want to stay at is booked. A gentleman was meeting business associates in the hotel overhears their plight and invites them to stay with him on his ranch outside the city. Shortly after they arrive, two men drop in, insist they are associates of Senator Snave's.

rotogravure is the color supplement of a Sunday paper.

Last Edit: Sept 29, 2022 16:00:25 GMT by Admin

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Willow Wisp Sept 29, 2022 16:06:36 GMT

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Post by Admin on Sept 29, 2022 16:06:36 GMT

It was a Sunday in November, 1940, Gale Leary's twenty-first birthday. Gale brought her father Greg the morning paper, the Chattanooga Times Daily, at the breakfast table. Gale was a a bit taller than average, with an oval face and attractive features, long brown hair, fashionably dressed. Greg was in a wheel chair, where had been confined since 1920, and his overall appearance was sickly - a thin face almost always creased with pain caused by the leg injuries that left him unable to walk, cruelly inflicted by a criminal he'd sent to jail years ago, his whole body thin and wasted from never leaving his chair. He often shivered uncontrollably, and his hair was white and receding. His legs were always covered with a blanket, but they were barely more than bones.

"I'll take the rotogravure - you can have the rest," he told his daughter. "I have to deal with the news every day, and I like to relax now and then." Despite his physical frailty, Greg was renowned as the toughest District Attorney Chattanooga had ever seen, and the city streets were safer because of his relentless drive to prosecute criminals and put them in jail. He was still driven by the desire for revenge against ALL criminals because of the damage two of them had done to him and his family, and the flame of his desire for revenge would never be quenched until his wife's murder and the man who had broken his legs were tossed in jail. Unfortunately, his injuries had left him unable to pursue, and both villains had left town after that deadly evening.

Gale handed him the color supplement and the funnies, and instantly yelped in stunned surprise, thrilled at the headlines in the Times Daily. She excitedly handed the front page to her father. "They've caught the man who shot my mother!"

Black Market Boss Red Brandois Arrested by Police!
Also charged in 20 year old murder!

Greg was almost too stunned to read; after all, Gale's mother had been his wife, and both he and Gale had lived with the horror of her murder for 20 years! But he blinked to clear his eyes, and a few seconds later, after he had closely examined the photo below the headlines, pulled his daughter close for a tearful hug. "That's Brandois, all right! It looks like he finally decided next door Cleveland was too small a market for him, and figured he'd try his luck here again." Then, puzzled, "I wonder where Evans disappeared to? He was never identified in Cleveland - my sources say he left the state." A pause, then, "I wonder why the police didn't notify me that Brandois was back in town and they'd arrested him?"

"They probably wanted to surprise you with a confession, Dad," Gale replied as she squeezed as tightly as she dared.

She was surprised at his flare of anger. "I've spent my life sending guys like Brandois to prison - and sometimes the chair! I know his type - he will confess to NOTHING!"

"I can make him confess, Father," Gale insisted, "... if Judge Lands can help me get in to see him,"

"I'll talk to him myself," Greg assured her. "But... are you sure you really want to confront a killer?"

"You know there's nothing I want more, Dad!" she replied emphatically. "I'll never rest until those two killers are brought to justice!"

"Good! I am thrilled to know my daughter has that kind of courage!"

"It's more than just courage, Father - and different. You know that when I pick up the willow branch, I always feel like Mother is nearby."

She held up a short sprig from a willow tree - a very unusual curio indeed. This very sprig of willow had been clutched tightly in her 6 month old fist when the police had showed up to investigate the pistol shot that had killed her mother, broken from a potted tree her mother had tended in her nursery. Baby Gale had refused to release it, and cried fiercely and unceasingly whenever it was taken away from her, so they let her have it. And strangely enough, twenty years later, that sprig of willow still lived! It was unaffected by either the changing of the seasons or the passage of time, always as green and springy as if it were still part of a whole tree!

"And... it's even more than that," Gale continued solemnly. "Sometimes, Dad, when I hold that branch, I feel endowed with more than just courage, but some kind of power, something I just can't explain! But I feel like no one, and nothing... could stop me. You remember the legend of the Will of the Wisp, a spirit that can go anywhere and do anything and can't be stopped? I feel like that!"

"Well, Miss Willow Wisp, I'm certainly not going to even try to stop you!" he chuckled. "I'll call Judge Lands."

***

An hour later, Gale headed for the jail; Judge Lands had arranged with the police to let her in to speak to Brandois - alone. She had changed her clothes - some impulse had led her to wear a dress that had belonged to her mother. The impulse seemed to come from her willow sprig - and she'd learned to trust these 'willow hunches' over the years. None of the cops commented that her dress was 20 years out of style, and none of them asked why she was so interested in talking to her mother's killer - apparently Judge Lands had a lot of influence with the Chattanooga police!

Red Brandois, no longer with red hair, sat on his bunk in a jail cell and laughed to himself. 'My moutpiece'll have me outta here by lunch time, if he knows what's good for him!' he snarled to himself. 'And them cops are suckers if they think I'll say ANYTHING to tie me to the murder'a that dame. Red Brandois don't talk to no coppers, never!" But suddenly, he stopped laughing and leaped to his feet in alarm!"

"Oh, you'll talk, Red Brandois! I'll MAKE you talk!" It was a woman's voice, but like no woman's voice he'd ever heard. The pitch wavered up and down, every word was louder or softer than the one before it, and he could hear each word echo - though he had not heard any echos when he'd exchanged insults with the cops who'd thrown him in here earlier.

"Hey! Who said that?" He tried to sound tough, but he was shaken, just be the voice alone. "Who the hell are you?"

"Hell seems like an appropriate choice of words..." the eerie voice returned with a chilling chuckle. Red leaped backward in terror as something fell to the floor. "Remember this willow branch? Do you remember the night you first saw it?"

"What is this, some kind of joke? Ha ha!" he blustered back, trying to sound strong and confident... but not doing too well!

"Do you remember me, Red Brandois?" There was no one in front of the cell, but as the eerie words were spoken, a figure faded into view. It was an eerie figure, even more eerie than the voice - the figure of a woman, surrounded by a pale glow, and he could see through her! And it was a woman he recognized. "Do you remember the night you shot and killed me, and Bob Evans broke my husband's legs in revenge for him sending Evans to jail, and then you cowards ran away? Remember it well, murderer - because you're going to give the police every word of it!"

"NO!" Red screamed at the top of his lungs, his voice high pitched and terrified. "NO! I KILLED you, MARTHA LEARY! You're DEAD! I killed you 20 YEARS AGO!" He staggered backward, and screamed again. "Keep her AWAY FROM ME!"

And then his voice changed. He choked and coughed, and now pain was mingled with his panic. "STOP HER!" Then, louder than ever, "AEEE!!" and then he put both hands over his heart and collapsed to the floor, where he gasped once or twice and twitched, and then was silent and motionless.

In the instants before he died, the whole scene flickered through his mind - he'd watched District Attorney Greg Leary and the jury send his crooked politician boss Bob Evans, to prison for 20 years for defrauding the city of over $300 large, he'd broken Evans out of jail that same evening and they'd gone to Leary's house for revenge, he'd shot and killed Martha Leary on Evan's orders to keep her quiet, then tied Leary up up and watched as Evans smashed the bones in Leary's legs, and then they'd pacified the baby by handing her a twig Evans broke off a potted plant before they'd... and then the movie just stopped. The next thing he knew was searing pain and intolerable heat and eternal suffering, eternal punishment for his life of evil.

***

"Holy Smokes! What happened to HIM?" a pair of cops raced into the empty cell block. Gale was just inside the cell block door, a good 20' away from the dead prisoner, and the willow sprig was back in her hand.

"He saw me, and screamed, and pitched forward clutching his heart," she replied. "His conscious must have finally caught up with him!"

The coroner arrived shortly and pronounced it a natural death of a heart attack, and they let Gale go home. "I didn't get a confession from Brandois, Father - but justice was served," she noted wearily as soon as she saw her father.

"I know. Judge Lands called me and told me what happened." He rolled his chair to her side and hugged her.

"He died and never told us where to find Evans," she was almost sobbing. "But don't worry. Somehow I know that I... that Willow Wisp... will find him." She stroked her cheek with her willow twig."I'm not sure HOW I know, but I'm sure of it!"

He nodded in agreement. He know it too.

Last Edit: Sept 29, 2022 22:44:32 GMT by Admin

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Willow Wisp Sept 30, 2022 9:16:15 GMT

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Post by Admin on Sept 30, 2022 9:16:15 GMT

A few days later, Greg and Gayle were on a Dixie Line train to St. Louis, where they were going to switch to the 'Continental Zephyr' train to San Francisco. Gale was playing the upright piano set against the front wall of the dining car, while Greg napped in their Pullman sleeper cabin. The diner was unusually packed - instead of returning to their seats after lunch, a lot of people had hung around listening to her play. The train was still gathering speed after switching from the North/South feeder line to the main East/West line, and would reach St. Louis in about an hour, where they would have to wait several hours for the 'Overland Zephyr'. Greg's health was forcing him to retire as District Attorney; they were planning to buy a home somewhere in the Bay Area, far from the criminal element that Greg fought against in Chattanooga. The plan was to buy a home, settle Greg in, and then Gale would return to Tennessee and oversee the eastern end of the move.

That was the plan... unknown to the passengers (as yet, but wait a few seconds...) the crew in the locomotive spotted a signal displayed by the first signal tower they passed that after switching rails that at least temporarily disrupted All the plans of All the passengers...

EMERGENCY FULL STOP!!!

Engineer J.L. Jones had NEVER seen the Emergency Full Stop signal before, but he recognized it and responded instantly. His urgency was increased because the crew of the tower were all standing alongside the tracks, frantically and urgently signalling him to STOP! his train, RIGHT NOW! He slammed on the air brakes and began praying. Even at their current reduced speed it would still take the train over a mile to stop. He hoped that whatever the emergency was, it was further ahead than that!

Gale was just swinging into the opening of "The Wabash Cannonball!" when the entire train was plunged into CHAOS! The squeal of the locked-up wheels screeching over the rails, forced on by the millions of tons of momentum, would have been painful by itself but as well, every car was filled with the screams of terrified passengers being slammed forward and the crashing of furniture and luggage and the blasting of the train's giant air horn. Everyone smashed forward against whatever (or whoever) was in front of them and stuff smashed into them from behind. Although it seemed to go on forever, it was only about 3 minutes later that the train actually, finally, slid to a halt.

Gale later found out that only minutes earlier, the tracks leading to the great Eads Bridge crossing the Mississippi had been damaged by sabotage and warnings had been sent by telegraph to all the signal stations along the tracks that converged on the bridge; for now, all she could think of was reaching her father. There must have been dozens of people and lots of debris in the pile that was jamming her against the piano and she wasn't going to push her way free any time soon. It seemed that she had escaped serious injury, at least so far...

On a sudden 'willow impulse' she forced her arm upwards and touched the willow sprig she had woven into her hair this morning - and she was enveloped in an envelope of pale light, and suddenly she could move freely- THROUGH the bodies and other solid stuff that was trapping her! She was floating upward through the mass, and then she was above it, and she knew where she wanted to go, and suddenly she was moving that way at just about walking speed, floating above the jumbled mess in the dining car and then right out through the rear wall and in through the front wall of the following car, through the first compartment and into the one she was sharing with her father.

Whatever force had allows her to become immaterial and float was overwhelmed by her need to pull open the curtain on her father's sleeping compartment; she found him unconscious but seemingly uninjured inside that small compartment, which had protected him from the crash of juggled luggage that was now spilled over the table and benches in the 'living' area of their compartment.

She forced open the door to the hall and joined in the efforts to aid the rest of the people on the train. Her newly discovered power allowed her to search places normal rescuers couldn't and discover people who had been trapped under piles of debris. It was a grueling several hours before all the cars had been searched, everyone trapped had been freed, and those who needed it finally had medical attention. Because of the speed that the STOP signals had been sent to all the surrounding signal towers alongside the tracks following the explosion on the approach to the bridge, there had been no actual train wrecks; the Dixie Express incident had been the most severe.

After obtaining alternate transportation into St. Louis across one of the other bridges, Gale and Greg were able to retain a hotel foom for the night, and then catch the next evening's Continental Zephyr and continue their trip to San Francisco.

In their new sleeper compartment's complementary copy of today's St. Louis Star and Times, Gale read several pages coverage of yesterday's events.

In one article, she learned that... "The FBI is suggesting that this act of sabotage was a warning to Americans from the Axis powers to stay out of the war. However, a spokesman for the Gau Midwest branch of the German American Bund vehemently denied this allegation, instead insisting that the sabotage was a false flag operation, designed to instill animosity against the Axis and provoke into supporting American's entry into the war, and suggested instead that the bomb was really planted by British or French agents. A representative of the French embassy scornfully laughed at this suggestion."

They had already known much of what was contained in another... "No one was killed, though the emergency braking several trains perfoemd did result in some injuries among passengers and crew members; several of the injured were patients in various hospitals around the city. A few of these were in guarded condition, but all were expected to survive. No train had been on the section of track that was blown up, though two had crossed that section not 5 minutes earlier, and the Dixie Flier and a freight train would have crossed it 10 minutes later. The FBI speculated speculated the bomb had been a time bomb and exploded either prematurely or belatedly.

"Repairs to the rail approach to the Eads Bridge were expected to be completed within a week; meanwhile trains would be routed across Merchants, McKinley, and MacArthur Bridges. Passengers on those trains should anticipate rerouting delays lasting as long as several hours."

They had known much of this already, from listening to the radio in their hotel room, as well as chatting with the hotel staff, the cabby, and train crew that helped them board. But Gale found one human interest story very interesting:

"Several of the passengers and crew of yesterday's Dixie Flier, arriving from Tennessee, were interviewed about their experiences during the emergency stop yesterday. Many of them reported that those providing assistance after the stop were assisted by what they claimed was a female ghost."

"Jonathan Clarkson was a baggage clerk on the Dixie Flier, and the most severely injured patient from that train. He spoke groggily from his hospital bed, shortly after surgery to implant a pin in his broken leg.

"It was the shost of Adaline Weston Couzins!" Clarkson insisted. "She was my grandmother's sister - I recognized her from a daguerreotype my mother keeps. She glowed, could walk through walls, and she was wearing a traditional nurse's outfit - the long sleeve, floor length gray dress with the high wight collar and cuffs, the pouffy white cap and the white apron and wrap around cape. I was trapped in the baggage car, buried under tons of passenger baggage and clothes and stuff from broken bags. I couldn't dig free, my head was buried in someone's underwear and I couldn't call for help and could barely breath. Adaline just floated through that stuff like a Will o'the Wisp through the bushes in a swamp, found me more than half dead, and led some rescuers back to me. And she didn't even stay around for me to thank her!"

"Good work, Gale!" Greg congratulated her after she read him the story.

"Thank you, Father! Say, I've already notified the porter than he should bring you lunch, at least until you're feeling a little stronger. But if it's OK with you, I'm going to eat in the dining car - and then play the piano again. I might stay away from The Wabash Cannonball today though!"

Last Edit: Apr 3, 2024 20:16:58 GMT by Admin

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Willow Wisp Oct 1, 2022 15:54:23 GMT

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Post by Admin on Oct 1, 2022 15:54:23 GMT

In San Francisco

Greg is going to retire. Gale and Greg are taking a train to a new city to look for a place to live. Friday AM when they get to the new city they find that every hotel they go to is full. In their third stop, Gale asks the desk clerk if he has any recommendations, and he mentions a place a good distance away; Gale expresses reluctance to keep carting Greg around - getting in and out of cabs is really painful for him. A gentleman overhears, introduces himself, and eventually asks them if they would like to stay at his ranch outside of town for the duration of their visit. Gales 'willow intuition' tells her they should accept the offer. His name is Jack Snaves. He is reserved and polite.

They have a snack at Jeff's ranch, and he tells them that his father usually spends his weekends at the ranch and he should be arriving later this afternoon. A little latter, there are two callers, Mr. Tinder and Mr. Downs. They claim to be friends of his father, visiting from out of state. Jack invites them in to wait.

They are 'rough and tumble' men. They claim to be good friends of the older Mr. Snaves, though Jack has never met them. They are dismissive of Gale and are constantly leering at her and making suggestive comments. And then Bob Snaves walks in - and the room becomes totally silent for a few seconds. Greg and Gale are stunned, Snaves is stunned... after a few moments of silence, Jack introduces the Learys to his father and then Bob suggests that he and his two friends retire to the study. The two groups don't interact at all after that.

Last Edit: Oct 1, 2022 20:29:59 GMT by Admin

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Willow Wisp Oct 1, 2022 19:13:50 GMT

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Post by Admin on Oct 1, 2022 19:13:50 GMT

EMERGENCY
FULL
STOP!!!

In one article, she learned that...

[background={yellow}]The FBI is suggesting that this act of sabotage was a warning to Americans from the Axis powers to stay out of the war. However, a spokesman for the Gau Midwest branch of the German American Bund vehemently denied this allegation, instead insisting that the sabotage was a false flag operation, designed to instill animosity against the Axis and provoke into supporting American's entry into the war, and suggested instead that the bomb was really planted by British or French agents. A representative of the French embassy scornfully [glow=#64DD17]laughed[/glow] at this suggestion.[/background]

[blink]text[/blink]

[flash]text[/flash]

Last Edit: Oct 1, 2022 20:32:58 GMT by Admin

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Willow Wisp Oct 2, 2022 13:06:32 GMT

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Post by Admin on Oct 2, 2022 13:06:32 GMT

So far, their initial experiences in San Francisco had not been pleasant. Neither Greg nor Gale was an experienced traveler, and they had both assumed that finding a hotel room in a big city like San Francisco should be easy. And perhaps it normally was. But there were at least 4 different national organizations all holding conferences in the City by the Bay, and so far, the Learys had been unable to find a room at the first three hotels they had stopped at - and it wasn't looking any better in the crowded lobby of the Drake. It was filled with men wearing fezzes with tassels and women wearing nurse-style outfits.

"I'm sorry, madam, but as I've told you several times, we have no rooms," one of the desk clerks was turning away from a somewhat distraught Gale Leary. "I'm sorry, but I have dozens of guests to attend to."

"Can you at least suggest a nearby hotel that might have some empty rooms?" she asked hopefully. "My father is in a wheelchair, and he is tired and sick from climbing in and out of cabs since we arrived in San Francisco. We need a room where he can recover!"

"We don't send business to our competitors. I'm busy." His tone was dismissive. He turned to another customer waiting at the desk.

"You might tell your manager that today will be the last day that Jack Snaves does business with or at the Drake," that man snarled loudly at the clerk. "Or I'll tell him myself when we meet this afternoon." He turned to to Gale. "My name is Jack Snaves. I apologize for the way San Francisco has been treating you and your father. It's usually a much nicer place. Perhaps I can offer some assistance?"

Snave was probably in his late 20s, He was wearing a very expensive gray business suit, and carrying a large black letter briefcase. She noticed that the top of the case was embossed with golden letters that read "Snave and Lake, Architects".

Gale wasn't big on asking strangers for help. On the other hand, her father couldn't take much more of being wheeled around and struggling into and out of cabs. "We really need a room where my father can rest," she said hopefully. "Maybe you know of another hotel nearby?"

"There are 3 of them within 2 blocks. I would be happy to check with the desk of each of them and reserve a room for you, if any are any available. But if your dad is up to one more ride, I have another option."

"I'm not sure..." she said cautiously.

"I have two residences.I spend most of my time in the city, where I have an apartment, but I also have a ranch outside the city which I share with my father. I'm rarely there - and since my mom died and we no longer raise horses, there's nobody at all living in the bunkhouse for the hands. I wonder... would you consider being my guests..." He could see she was going to refuse, so he hurried on, "Just until you can find suitable accommodations at some hotel, of course!. It would be a great pleasure! I usually spend maybe one weekend a month at the ranch, and father has his own interests that keep him pretty busy." He could see her considering. "There is plenty of room for you and your father in my limousine, and my chauffeur could help him in and out - much more gently than any cabbie!"

"Oh, Father - do you hear?" Gale asked hopefully.

After 25 years as DA for Chattanooga, the last 20 in a wheel chair, Greg was confident in his ability to judge a man's character, and he felt that Jack Snave was someone that could be trusted. "Yes, I hear, dear..." He turned to Jack. "Are you sure it wouldn't be an inconvenience, Mr. Snave? We would really appreciate it... I would really appreciate it. It has been an... eventful trip for the two of us so far, and this racing all over town in one cab after another to simply find an empty hotel room has left me exhausted."

"Indeed, no inconvenience whatever, Mr. Leary. When I do spend time there, I end up pretty lonely. I'll be glad to have guests. You won't see much of my father, I'm sure, but I'll introduce you."

"Thank you, Mr. Snave!" Gale said emphatically. "Dad, I'll get you ready!"

While she did that, Snave looked up the manager of the hotel, to cancel that afternoon's meeting. "Perhaps you can explain to that young man at the desk that words have consequences," he suggested. "Such as the hotel he works for having to delay long planned renovations and expansion while it finds a new architect?" He was promised that the young man would be fired right away, but... "That's not really a good solution, is it? He'll just go to work for someone else, and take his bad attitude with him..." He left the befuddled manager with a promise that he'd be back for their missed meeting tomorrow.

Snave's chauffeur seemed to be something of a magician, and despite the unusually crowded streets, they arrived at the ranch shortly afterward. Gale couldn't have told you where they went, but they did cross over one fairly long bridge and Snave mentioned 'East Bay'.

The chauffeur drove around the grounds of the ranch as Snave gave them his 'tour guide' introduction to the stables, track and buildings. "My mother inherited this place from her father, and they were both very successful with raising and running horses, but neither my father nor I share her interests. In fact, horses seem to hate him - never figured out how he and mom got along... so now the horses are gone and all the hands. But father insists that we keep the place, and keep it in shape. Maybe in memory of Mother - but he's never really been the sentimental type. So anyway, the bunk house is in perfect condition, but empty. It's yours for as long as you want to use it!"

Jack took them into the bunkhouse and led them to one of the rooms. "This used to be the farm manager's room. It's got everything you should need - including a kitchen and a phone. I'll have Andy bring out some breakfast food, but you'll join me for dinner, won't you?"

"Oh, Jack, what a beautiful place!" Gale said appreciatively. "Of course we'll join you for dinner!"

"Well, I'll go get your bags, then," Jack replied. "You two just rest - I know the day has been an ordeal for you so far!"

"You know, Jack," Greg replied. "After seeing this place, I'm really glad we DIDN'T get rooms at the hotel. This is much nicer than any hotel could be!"

After dinner, Jack and Greg were sitting on the porch. "So, how do you like it, here at Villa Vida, Greg?" Jack asked of his guest.

"It's wonderful. My daughter tells me that you and your father live here alone?" he wondered curiously.

"Actually, most of the time, it's just my father. I do so much business in the city that I have a separate apartment there, and I only get out here about one weekend a month."

"We haven't seen your father yet," Greg commented curiously.

"He often works really late," Snaves replied. "He used to be a State Senator, and he's still really involved in politics. He usually doesn't get home until after the sun sets, and he often gets away before it comes up again." He paused. "Say, looks like we're going to have company!" He watched two men park near the garage; they approached the house a bit uncertainly after they spotted Jack and Greg.

"We're looking for Senator Snaves," one of them announced. "He told us he'd be here tonight."

"He should be returning any time now," Jack replied. "You can wait, if you'd like." They would, so the five of them retired to the living room, where they introduced themselves around, and Jack built a fire. The newcomers were Mr. Tinder and Mr. Downs. The two men seemed to know Jack's father quite well, but...

"It's funny that they seem to be such great friends of Jack's father, and yet he doesn't know them at all!" Gale pondered.

After half an hour, Tinder spoke up: "Guess we had better leave. We can see the Senator some other time..." He sounded as if we were quite bitter about being stood up, but trying to suppress it. Jack, Gale, and the 2 visitors stood, but at that moment the front door opened and another man walked in.

"Jack, I didn't expect you tonight," the man said. "I see Tinder's car..." He caught sight of Gale and then Greg - and instantly stopped talking.

"Dad, are you OK? You're white as a ghost!" Jack filled the silence a second or so later. "Umm... I'd like you to meet Greg and Gale Leary. I've inv..."

"Tinder, Downs, let's talk in my study. Excuse us, please," Snaves commanded, then turned his back on the others and stalked into the other room - and closed the door firmly after the two visitors had joined him.

"I don't understand my father's behavior," he tried hurriedly to explain to the Learys. "Perhaps Tinder and Downs aren't friends of his after all, but some kind of political opponents?"

"It's nothing, Jack," Greg reassured him. "But if you'll excuse us, it's been a hard day and I need to retire!"

Good nights were awkward, but in a few minutes, Gale pushed Greg into his temporary room... he hardly said a word as he got ready to retire, but she could see he was extremely troubled. Finally...

"Snave is Bob Evans!" he gasped. "Of course, he's changed his name, and he's older, but I'll never forget him..." He was shaking in anger and anguish.

"Hmm... Snave IS Evans spelled backward, isn't it?" She paused. "But, Dad, before we say anything, we must be VERY sure!"

"Well, I'm sure already, but we will need proof for other people," he agreed. "It would be awful if we wrongly accuse him of Evan's crimes." He paused for a minute. "In a way, I hope I'm wrong. I really like young Jack, but if he has a snake like Evans for a father..."

"We'll think of something in the morning, Dad," Gale reassured her father. "Will you be OK?"

"I'm really exhausted. Tomorrow will be fine. Goodnight, dear!" But he knew he'd never sleep. Perhaps she knew it, too...

Gale was unable to sleep. She also didn't want to believe that Jack Snaves was the son of the man who had ordered her mother killed, and personally crippled her father. About a half hour after she'd turned off the light, a half hour of tossing and turning, some sounds outside roused her. At the window, dimly lit by the moon, she watched a large panel truck back up to the barn.

"But WHY? What could they be doing at this hour of the night? I'm going to investigate!" She quietly sneaked out of the back door of the bunkhouse and around to some bushes nearer the barn. The headlights of the truck, and the muffled flashlights carried by the men who arrived with the truck, let her see what was going on. "Tinder and Downs! And those men are carrying boxes into the barn! And bringing other boxes back out to the truck! The only reason they'd do this kind of work after dark is if they're doing something illegal! Some kind of smuggling! Tomorrow, I'm going to see what's in those boxes they're leaving in the barn!"

She cautiously sneaked back into the house - and noticed that the door to her father's room was open and the light was on...

A few minutes ago, the door of Greg's room had been cautiously pushed open, and a shadowy figure stole in. With his back turned to the bed, he struck a match, and then shielding the flame carefully, he turned back to the bed... to find the supposedly sleeping Greg Leary staring at him, wide awake.

"It's just me, Leary," Bob Snaves spoke quickly. "I just wanted to be sure you are comfortable..." he stammered.

"Snaves? I'm not surprised. Hold on, while a snap the light on." Leary turned to the bedside lamp, while Snaves dropped the match to the floor and rubbed it out, while quickly putting something into his pocket. "So you're here to check up on my comfort? Nice of you! Say, you know, from the instant you walked in the house, I've had the feeling I know you," Greg continued ironically. "In fact, you really remind me of... the man who crippled me, twenty years ago."

"Oh, is that so?!" Snaves blustered.

"Yeah, his name was Boss Evans... quite a coincidence, isn't it, Snaves is Evans spelled backward?"

Evans almost shouted. "I'm going to kill you, Leary!" He pulled a pistol from his pocket. "I should have done it years ago! I've got a good racket going here and I'm not going to let you..."

He was interrupted by an eerie voice from the hall. "Yes, Mr. Evans. You WOULD have to have another racket, wouldn't you?" A pale figure slipped slipped into the room - the wavering, indistinct figure of a woman surrounded by a glowing aura, carrying a willow sprig in one hand. "You killed an innocent woman and crippled a man years ago because you 'had a racket', didn't you? If you'd gone straight after that, if only you'd tried to make an honest life for yourself, I wouldn't have tracked you down. But you're no better now than you were then and your continued evil led me directly to you!"

The voice was shrill and penetrating, and it reverberated, and Evans thought his skull might explode. "STAY BACK!" he screamed, waving his pistol. "Don't come ANY CLOSER or I'LL SHOOT!"

The ghostly figure raised the twig and moved closer. She wasn't walking - she seemed to be floating. He fired two frantic shots, but she kept approaching. "Your hands are shaking... you can't hit me! You're an evil coward, Evans, and now you'll pay for the evil you've done!"

He was horrified when his hand turned the pistol around, and raised it to the side of his head. He strained as hard as he could, but his hand kept moving. "You can't kill me... but you can kill yourself!" The eerie, scary voice laughed triumphantly! The hand holding the sprig moved, urging the barrel of the gun to Evans' temple.

"Before you die, see evil you have done!"

As in the widely repeated trope, scenes flashed before Evans' mind's eye as he was about to die. Unlike the common understanding of the trope, he didn't experience his own memories, but the memories of others he had injured and wronged during his life. Mixed among the horrific memories were the pain of a young mother who would never see her daughter grow up, murdered before her daughter's first birthday; the pain he'd caused a young district attorney by shattering the bones in both his legs, other painful memories from the lives of Greg and Gale, and literally thousands of scenes of comparable pain he'd caused to hundreds of others. It was too much pain for any human to bear; Evans collapsed to the floor unconscious. He would awaken weeks later in a sanatorium, and never again would he experience an instant of consciousness without feeling tremendous mental anguish.

The glow vanished, and Greg hugged his daughter. "It's all over now, Gale. Red Brandois and Bob Evans have been punished by their own consciences. We'll never have to worry about them again."

At that moment, Jack slammed open the door, raced into the room - and dropped to floor by his father's side. His father's writhing slammed the pistol into his side and his hand spasmed and another shot was fired... fortunately missing everyone. Jack pinned down his father's arm and pried the pistol from his fingers. He turned to the Learys.

"What the HELL is going on here? Why is my father here? What did you do to him?"

"Your father came here to kill MY Father!" She had the willow sprig clenched tightly in her hand, and was surrounded by the ghostly aura again - but she remained as solid as ever. "Whatever he did, he did to himself!" When he didn't react, she continued. "I have a story to tell you, Jack, a long, sad story."

Telling Jack the story was the hardest thing she had ever done in her life... but he listened, and never interrupted, and even nodded occasionally. When she was finished, he nodded. "I'm glad you told me. I had some suspicions... but I never knew for sure..."

"Yes, there were a lot of things your father never told you!" she replied.

"Well, he was not really my father, but my step father. Everyone always said that he married my mother for her money. Your story explains a lot of things I've often wondered about..."

"Oh, Jack, I'm so glad to hear he's not your true father! Now I'm sure you're not involved in the smuggling!"

"WHAT SMUGGLING?" he yelped.

"Out at the barn," she replied. "Tinder and Downs came back with a truck and a crew, and they're loading it right now."

"Damn! This is MY ranch - and I'm putting a stop to it RIGHT NOW!"

Jack raced out, even as she protested. "Jack, wait - they have guns!" But he was gone. She raised the willow twig in front of her, and followed after.

"Jack, you idiot kid - get back in the house!" Tinder ordered when Jack Snaves rushed up to him. When Jack didn't back off soon enough, he pulled a pistol."Damn kid! You're dead - and anyone else in the house besides the Senator, too!"

A pale glow enveloped his hand and the pistol, shoving it off line, and a bullet slammed into the turf. Jack launched a powerful punch at one of the men who was carrying a box; the man was unable to dodge and was knocked out instantly. Jack pounced on Downs and wrestled him to the ground while pummeling him.

Last Edit: Oct 5, 2022 21:44:32 GMT by Admin

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Willow Wisp Oct 4, 2022 1:15:20 GMT

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Post by Admin on Oct 4, 2022 1:15:20 GMT

Shortly after they arrive, 2 men in a truck arrive. They are surprised to see Jack and not his father, but agree to stick around for a while and wait on him. They claim to be business associates, but Jack has never heard of them. It is pretty clear that Jack doesn't know much about his father's business, and both met are reticent.

Finally, Bob Snave arrives and just barges in, greeting Jack and his business associates, and then all conversation in the room stops when he notices Greg and Gale... and then he hustles Tinder and Downs out of the room. Greg claims to feel really crappy, so Gale pushes him to his room, and they all say goodnight, leaving Jack and Gale both wondering what the hell is going on...

Gale and Greg talk it over and and Greg reveals to Gale that this man is Bob Evans, the man who crippled him. Gale notes that this must be why the willow branch suggested that they go to San Francisco and that the willow branch must have influenced them to be in that hotel lobby at the same time as Jack. Tomorrow we go to the police! she insists and he agrees, though he doesn't think it will be helpful.

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Willow Wisp Oct 5, 2022 13:09:50 GMT

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Post by Admin on Oct 5, 2022 13:09:50 GMT

So far, their initial experiences in San Francisco had not been pleasant. Neither Greg nor Gale was an experienced traveler, and they had both assumed that finding a hotel room in a big city like San Francisco should be easy. And perhaps it normally was. But there were at least 4 different national organizations all holding conferences in the City by the Bay this week, all filling up the hotels. It was difficult for Greg to transfer between his wheelchair and a cab, and so far today since they detrained, they had done this 4 different times. He was tired, sick, and miserable.

And it wasn't looking any better in the crowded lobby of the Drake, which was filled with Knights, Elks, and men and women in Scouting uniforms. Yet again, Gale had been told that the hotel had no rooms. As she turned away from the desk, the man who had been behind her in line spoke to her.

"My name is Jack Snaves. I apologize for the way San Francisco has been treating you and your father. It's usually a much more accommodating place. Perhaps I can offer some assistance?" Snave was probably in his late 20s, He was wearing a very expensive gray business suit, and carrying a large black leather briefcase. She noticed that the top of the case was embossed with golden letters that read "Snave and Lake, Architects".

"There are three of them within two blocks. I'd be happy to check with the desk of each of them and reserve a room for you, if any are any available. But if your dad is up to one more ride, I have another option."

"I'm not sure..." she said cautiously.

"I have two residences, an apartment in the city and a big ranch not far outside. Since my mom died, we're shutting down the ranch and we'll probably sell it soon. So right now, it's mostly deserted except for my dad and occasionally me. There's a separate building for the foreman, and it's empty - you can use that. It's clean and tidy, and even has its own kitchen. Just until you can find suitable accommodations at some hotel, of course!" He could see her considering. "There is plenty of room for you and your father in my limousine, and my chauffeur could help him in and out - much more gently than any cabbie!"

"Oh, Father - do you hear?" Gale asked hopefully.

After 25 years as DA for Chattanooga (the last 20 in a wheelchair), Greg was confident in his ability to judge a man's character, and he felt that Jack Snave was someone that could be trusted. "Yes, I hear, dear..." After a few more assurances from Snave, the pair gave in. Snave's chauffeur was as helpful as promised, and a traffic magician as well, and barely a half hour later, Jack was giving them the nickle tour of "Villa Vida".

"My mother inherited this place from her father, and she and grandpa both loved horses - and their horses were always very successful on the track. But neither my father nor I share her interests. In fact, horses seem to hate him - never figured out how he and mom got along... so now the horses are gone and all the hands. But father insists that we keep the place, and keep it in shape. Maybe in memory of Mother - but he's never really been the sentimental type. So anyway, the foreman's residence is in perfect condition, but empty. It's yours for as long as you want to use it!"

After they had unpacked, they joined Jack for dinner in the main house.

"Jack, this is a beautiful place!" Gale said appreciatively. "Thank you ever so much!"

"You know, Jack," Greg agreed, "after seeing this place, I'm really glad we DIDN'T get rooms at the hotel. This is much nicer than any hotel could be!"

After dinner, Jack and Greg were sitting on the porch, chatting idly. "We haven't seen your father yet," Greg commented curiously.

"He often works really late," Snave replied. "He used to be a State Senator, and he's still really involved in politics. He usually doesn't get home until after the sun sets, and he often gets away before it comes up again." He paused. "Say, looks like we're going to have company!" He watched two men park near the garage; they approached the house a bit uncertainly after they spotted Jack and Greg.

"We're looking for Senator Snave," one of them announced. "He told us he'd be here tonight." The two introduced themselves as Mr. Tinder and Mr. Downs, and claimed to be business associates of 'the Senator'.

"He should be returning any time now," Jack replied. "You can wait, if you'd like." They would wait, so the five of them retired to the living room, where they introduced themselves around, and Jack built a fire. The two men seemed to know Jack's father quite well, but...

"It's funny that they seem to be such great friends of Jack's father, and yet Jack doesn't know them at all!" Gale pondered.

"Jack, I didn't expect you tonight," the man said immediately. "I see Tinder's car..." Then he caught sight of Gale and then Greg - and instantly stopped talking.

"Dad, are you OK? You're white as a ghost!" Jack filled the silence a second or so later. "Umm... I'd like you to meet Greg and Gale Leary. I've inv..."

"Tinder, Downs, let's talk in my study. Excuse us, please," Snaves commanded, interrupting his son and never acknowledging the Learys. He turned his back on the others and stalked into the other room - and closed the door firmly after the two visitors had joined him.

"I don't understand my father's behavior," Jack tried hurriedly to explain to the Learys. "Perhaps Tinder and Downs aren't friends of his after all, but some kind of political opponents?"

"It's nothing, Jack," Greg reassured him. His voice was weak and shaky. "But if you'll excuse us, it's been a hard day and I need to retire!"

Good nights were awkward, but in a few minutes, Gale rolled Greg into his temporary room... he hardly said a word as he got ready to retire, but she could see he was extremely agitated and troubled. Finally...

"Snave is Bob Evans!" he gasped. "Of course, he's changed his name, and he's older, but I'll never forget him..." He was shaking in anger and anguish.

"Hmm... Snave IS Evans spelled backward, isn't it?" She paused. "But, Dad, before we say anything, we must be VERY sure!"

"Well, I'm sure already," he snapped in anger, but then continued more thoughtfully, "But we will need proof for other people," he agreed. "It would be awful if we wrongly accuse him of Evans' crimes and he's a different guy. Not that he is, but still..." He paused for a minute. "In a way, I hope I'm wrong. I really like young Jack, but if he has a snake like Evans for a father..."

"We'll think of something in the morning, Dad," Gale reassured her father. "Will you be OK tonight?"

"I'm really exhausted. Tomorrow will be fine. Goodnight, dear!" But he knew he'd never sleep. Perhaps she knew it, too...

Gale also was unable to sleep. She didn't want to believe that Jack Snaves was the son of the man who had ordered her mother killed, and personally crippled her father. About a half hour of tossing and turning after she'd turned off the light, some sounds outside roused her. At the window, dimly lit by the moon, she watched a large panel truck back up to the barn.

"But WHY? What could they be doing at this hour of the night, since the ranch has been closed? I'm going to investigate!" She quietly sneaked out of the back door of the bunkhouse and around to some bushes nearer the barn. The headlights of the truck and the masked flashlights carried by the men who arrived with the truck let her see what was going on. "Tinder and Downs! And those men are carrying boxes into the barn! And bringing other boxes back out to the truck! The only reason they'd do this kind of work after dark is if they're doing something illegal! Some kind of smuggling! Tomorrow, I'm going to see what's in those boxes they're leaving in the barn!"

She cautiously sneaked back into the house - and noticed that the door to her father's room was open and the light was on...

A few minutes ago, the door of Greg's room was gently pushed open, and a shadowy figure stole in. With his back turned to the bed, he struck a match, and then shielding the flame carefully, he turned back to the bed... to find the supposedly sleeping Greg Leary staring at him, wide awake.

"It's just me, Leary," Bob Snave spoke quickly. "I just wanted to be sure you are comfortable..." he stammered.

"Snave? I'm not surprised. Hold on, while a snap the light on." Leary turned to the bedside lamp, while Snave dropped the match to the floor and rubbed it out, while quickly putting something into his pocket. "You know, from the instant you walked in, I've had the feeling I know you," Greg continued ironically. "In fact, you really remind me of... the man who crippled me, twenty years ago."

"Oh, is that so?!" Snaves blustered.

"Yeah, his name was Boss Evans... quite a coincidence, isn't it, Snave is Evans spelled backward?"

Evans almost shouted. "I'm going to kill you, Leary!" He pulled a pistol from his pocket. "I should have done it years ago! I've got a good racket going here and I'm not going to let you..."

He was interrupted by an eerie voice from the hall. "Yes, Mr. Evans. You WOULD have to have another racket, wouldn't you?" A pale figure slipped slipped into the room - the wavering, indistinct figure of a woman, carrying a willow sprig in one hand. "You killed an innocent woman and crippled a man years ago because you 'had a good racket', didn't you? If you'd gone straight after that, if only you'd tried to make an honest life for yourself, I wouldn't have tracked you down... But you didn't - you are just as evil now as you were then. And tonight, you are finally going to face your evil!"

The voice was shrill and penetrating, and it reverberated inside his skull, and Evans thought his head might explode. "STAY BACK!" he screamed, waving his pistol. "Don't come ANY CLOSER or I'LL SHOOT!"

The ghostly figure raised the twig and moved closer. She wasn't walking - she seemed to be floating, a couple of inches off the floor. He fired two frantic shots, but she kept approaching. "Your hands are shaking... you can't hit me! You're an evil coward, Evans, and now you'll pay for the evil you've done!"

"Before you die, face the evil you have done!"

As in the widely repeated trope, scenes flashed before Evans' mind's eye as he was about to die. Unlike the common understanding of the trope, he didn't experience his own memories, but the memories of others he had injured and wronged during his life. Mixed among the horrific memories were the pain of a young mother who would never see her daughter grow up, murdered before her daughter's first birthday; the pain he'd caused a young district attorney by shattering the bones in both his legs, other painful memories from the lives of Greg and Gale, and literally thousands of scenes of comparable or greater pain he'd caused to hundreds of others. It was too much pain for any human to bear; Evans collapsed to the floor unconscious. He would awaken weeks later in a sanatorium, and never again would he experience an instant of consciousness without feeling tremendous mental agony.

The glow vanished, and Greg hugged his daughter. "It's all over now, Gale. Red Brandois and Bob Evans have been punished by their own consciences. We'll never have to worry about them again."

At that moment, Jack slammed open the door, raced into the room - and dropped to the floor by his father's side. His father's writhing slammed the pistol into his side and his spasming hand clenched on the trigger and another shot was fired... fortunately missing everyone. Jack pinned down his father's arm and pried the pistol from his fingers. He turned to the Learys.

"What the HELL is going on here? Why is my father here? What did you do to him?" He sounded as bewildered as he was angry.

"Your father came here to kill MY Father!" She had the willow sprig clenched tightly in her hand, and was surrounded by the ghostly aura again - but she remained as solid as ever. "Whatever he did, he did to himself!" When Jack didn't react, she continued. "I have a story to tell you, Jack, a long, sad story."

"Yes, there were a lot of things your father never told you!" she replied.

"Well, he wasn't really my father, but my step father. Everyone always said that he married my mother for her money. Your story explains a lot of things I've often wondered about..."

"Oh, Jack, I'm so glad to hear he's not your true father! Now I'm sure you're not involved in the smuggling!"

"WHAT SMUGGLING?" he yelped. "You didn't say anything about smuggling!"

"Out at the barn," she replied. "Tinder and Downs came back with a truck and a crew, and they're loading it right now."

"Damn! This is MY ranch - and I'm putting a stop to it RIGHT NOW!"

Jack raced out, even as she protested. "Jack, wait - they have guns!" But he was gone. She raised the willow twig in front of her, and followed after.

***

A pale glow enveloped Tinder's hand and the pistol, shoving it off line, and a bullet slammed into the turf. Jack launched a powerful punch at one of the men who was carrying a box; the man was unable to dodge and was knocked out instantly. Jack pounced on Downs and knocked him down, then slammed his head down hard on the ground and stunned him, then jumped to his feet.

Tinder and 4 other men had pistols aimed at Jack - but each pistol was surrounded by a pale aura, and none of them would fire. Jack had just taken down two men in seconds. Tinder decided to fall back on his other option. An option he rarely used, as it was incredibly painful - but an option that had never failed him so far. Screaming with the agony of his initial transition, he spit - and his small spit grew and changed, igniting and becoming a a blazing fireball, the size of a softball, that flew at Jack, striking him a glancing blow in the chest as he strained to dodge.

Jack fell to the ground, screaming in agony, and Tinder stepped closer, and then he stumbled and fell as a glowing aura wrapped around his legs and swept his feet out from under him. Gale, carrying the willow sprig, stepped out from some bushes and touched Tinder's head with the sprig, and he fell asleep. She touched Jack's shoulder, and his burn was healed, and he jumped back up to rejoin the fight. Between Jack's fists and Gale's magic touch, they made short work of the remaining smugglers...

The next day, after all the police business had been wrapped up, Jack, Gale and Greg were sitting in the dining area of the bunkhouse. "Turn out they've been trying to break up Evans' smuggling ring for a while," Jack reported. "He's used his political contacts to track munitions shipments in the Bay area for years, and his gang has been hijacking them and selling stolen US munitions to the Japanese for a couple of years - and as long, he's been working with the same group, smuggling dope into the country. He used his connections to keep Customs off their tail. Well, that's over with - he'll be in jail for 20 years, at least, and that's even if they don't follow up on his charges from Tennessee... and they will! You should never have any problems with him again!"

"That's wonderful, Jack!" Gale replied cheerily. "Now we can see about finding a place where Dad can retire!"

Greg looked at Jack; Jack looked at Greg, then Greg spoke. "Actually, dear, Jack and I have been talking about that... how do you think you'd like living on a ranch?"

Last Edit: Oct 6, 2022 0:12:11 GMT by Admin

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