MISC: The Girl Who Saved the World Part 35

George Phillies phillies at 4liberty.net
Sat Mar 5 17:54:47 PST 2016

“Already done,” Brian said. “I was going to work on my new model.  I’m 
making real progress.” His current project, the ship-of-the-line George 
Washington, had 1200 pieces, most requiring modest woodworking prior to 

“Me, too,” Janie added. “Grades night.  Not much homework. But my new 
stones book is on outward influence.”

“Thank you,” Morgana answered. “No, really. Dinner would be great. But 
we’re running short on time.  Let’s see where I am.  Janie, you played 
the move against Kurchatov.  You have not, if I heard right, ever used 
the Eclipse move in match play. You were saving it for the Nationals. 
Right? You have friends your own age over for play. Are any of them any 

Janie shook her head. “But we play, and they get better. Joe improved 
the most.  Sometimes I play Territories on-line.  Anonymously. Worlds at 
War site doesn’t allow personal information. They don’t know who I am.”

“And there was this communications gap on who Joe is. Except he 
teleports. And has some combat skills. He was a friend your age. Am I 
right so far?” Morgana asked.

“Completely,” Janie answered.

“Did you ever talk about him rescuing you?” Morgana asked. <You two 
weren’t carrying on, Janie, were you? I know you’re way young for that, 
but it matters legally, so I have to ask.> The telepathic question went 
unheard by the rest of the Wells family.

<No! Absolutely not!> Janie tried unsuccessfully not to sound offended. 
“We kept in touch, after he rescued us. Well, he and I could reach each 
other mentalically. I never needed to phone. We’d agree on good times 
for him to show up.  Mom and Dad said it was all right.  Didn’t you, 
Dad?” Janie asked. “And sometimes we all played base ball nines 
together. A few times, Brian needed a couple extra players for his team. 
Trisha was always catcher. She insisted. And never managed to hit the ball.”

Trisha, now dressed in a scarlet red pantsuit, cuffs and collar ornately 
stitched in orange flames, reappeared and sagged bonelessly into her 
chair. “I might have hit the ball out of the park by accident,” she said.

“Absolutely,” Patrick answered.  “Joe was a good person.  I’d have liked 
to have met him. Actually, I have met him, but you somehow forgot to 
mention who he was, Janie. He did save you two, and I gather he took a 
pistol or knife or something away from one of those scoundrels, the 
people the Stars Over Boston flattened. Fortunately you shouted for 
help, and he managed to avoid getting hurt.”

“He’s a good guy. He even helped us move the firewood into the garage,” 
Brian said. “And once he made this incredible catch and throw to win a 
game for us. He threw like a girl, a girl who played hardball all the time.”

“Last November,” Trisha added. “The delivery guy just dumped the wood in 
the driveway.”

“Last time we hire him,” Abigail said.

“So we three got to carry it into the garage.  No gifts allowed.  The 
neighbors would have seen them,” Janie said.

“But Joe showed up and helped. He said he owed Janie for playing City of 
Steel with him,” Trisha explained. “He helped a lot.  Of course, he’s 
sort of my height, but really strong.  Not gift-strong--you can 
tell--but strong.”

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