Ally's room was exactly how she left it. I emptied the two suitcases before Hannah made an appearance at my door. "Jethro's been chasing off the boys already?"

I grinned at her. "I didn't mind so much."

"Good, you're finally growin' up."

With a shrug of my shoulders I set one empty suitcase inside of the other and zipped it up before storing it away in the back of my closet. "I was already grown up. I just have better taste now."

Without a pause she went for the throat. "Ready to talk about what happened in the city?"

If I'd had anything in my hands at that moment I probably would have dropped it in shock. "Wha… what do you mean?"

Hannah crossed her arms and leaned on the door jamb. "I mean that you lit out of here the day after Christmas like the world couldn't continue to spin if you weren't a big city girl and now here you are six months later, back home. Not that I would want you anywhere else, mind, but somethin' is tellin' me that somethin' ain't right."

A tremor ran through my hands and I knew that the guilt was obvious on my face.

"Ally?"

The springs at the bottom of the bed squeaked when I sat down abruptly. Hannah checked the hallway and then closed the door before coming over and sitting beside me. Her arm fell over my shoulders and pulled me to her as I stared at the hardwood floor and the different area rugs that covered most of the room.

"Sweetie, whatever it is, you can tell me. I wont judge you."

"I know." Hannah was nice like that. She wouldn't judge. "You can't tell Uncle Jethro."

She sighed. "I don't keep secrets from your Uncle, Ally. You know that."

I looked at her, almost pleading. "There's nothing that he can do to fix it and if there's nothin' he can do then he'll drive himself crazy."

Her lips firmed. "Ally, what happened?"

"Promise." I saw that she wasn't going to make a promise that she couldn't keep. "Then at least promise that it's my secret to tell. If he wants to hear then he has to come to me."

I received a nod. "That I can do."

Without any preamble I just let it out. "Six weeks ago I was raped."

Hannah's hand flew up to her mouth with a sharp intake of breath. When I saw her eyes tear up I looked away. "I was window shopping at the stores right next door to the apartment I lived at. The next thing I knew I was in a dark alley and two guys were tearing at my clothes. A third watched, and a fourth tried to stop them, but it was too late."

I wrung my hands at the story I was telling. The guilt tore at my chest that I was telling Ally's story and I was one of the four men that destroyed her life. I didn't deserve the pity that Hannah was about to show me and I damn sure didn't deserve the kindness that her and Jethro had already shown me.

"He didn't get to finish. The fourth guy killed the one that was watching, cut his throat, and he went after the one that was holding me down, but the guy that… that was raping me… he had a gun and shot both of them." I took another breath and realized that I was almost panting at that point. "The police showed up right after and the guy that…" I waved my hand. "He got shot. They're all dead. So you see how Uncle Jethro can't do anything. They got theirs."

"Oh Ally." Hannah started to pull me into a hug but I bolted from the bed. It was wrong on so many levels to accept that from her.

"I'm past it now. It took me a while to get my head together, but everything is fine now." I looked up at her sitting on my bed and then back down again, ashamed of myself. "He didn't have any diseases and I'm not pregnant, but I'm not a virgin anymore either."

I could hear Hannah trying to get control of her breathing before asking a question. "Did he hurt you?"

I swallowed. "There was a little tearing, but the doctors fixed everything fine. No permanent… everything is fine. So see, nothing to worry about and Uncle Jethro doesn't have to know, okay?"

"Alright."

My head shot up in surprise. "Really?"

She nodded. "It would tear him apart if he knew. But you have to promise me something."

"What?"

"I want you to see a doctor…"

I closed my eyes and shook my head. "I already said I'm fine. The doctors gave me a clean bill of health."

"I'm talkin' about a rape crisis counselor or a psychiatrist."

"What? No! I don't want anyone else to know. It was my fault in the first…"

"Don't you ever say that Allison Susan Baker. It was not your fault!"

The nightmares were back worse than ever, and it wasn't until I woke up in the morning to see Uncle Jethro leaving my room that I realized I was probably screaming again and he'd come in to stay with me for the night.

The clock on my bedside table read four a.m. on the nose. It was most likely the longest I'd slept in six weeks. I don't know how many times I'd seen midnight or two in the morning go by without a thought. If it weren't for the miracle of make up, to disguise the black circles under my eyes, I'd probably be coddled even more. The shower was refreshing and the time spent shaving my legs and underarms cathartic. I was still surprised at how much I'd relied on Ally's memories to get me through the day. If I had to learn all of the girl stuff from scratch, I would have been a basket case by the third day.

With my doctor's recommendation I popped another blister pack birth control pill and swallowed it after brushing my teeth. Even though I had no plans to engage in anything resembling sex in the near future, the thought of bearing a rapist's child made my stomach twist in knots. It was better to be prepared than not.

After blow drying my hair and then braiding it on both sides so that it would hang by my shoulders, I donned my makeup and got dressed. Denim shorts, tee-shirt and a blue plaid cover-up followed by white crew socks and my black, ostrich skin boots. I was working on the theater today. Keeping my mind on other things was top priority for the near future.

Before heading to the kitchen, where hopefully, Hannah hadn't made breakfast for me, I stopped by the game room. And by game room I mean wild game, not pool or snooker. Several deer had lost their lives to decorate the walls of Jethro's game room. Well, that and he actually ate the meat. He wasn't a douche bag about killing deer strictly for the heads and horns.

He had a locked cabinet for his rifles, shotguns, and pistols, one each. Mississippi was a concealed carry state and if you had a hundred dollars and could pass a background check then you too could carry around a hand canon. Ally had been licensed since she was sixteen. Jethro had seen to that. He'd also seen to it that she knew what to do and outfitted her properly. It took me a second to find the proper shoulder holster before I stripped off the cover-up and slipped it on, needing to adjust the straps a little. The last time she wore the holster was when Jethro took her hunting the previous December.

The rifle would take a deer down, the pistol was to finish it off if need be. It was also in case we ran across any predatory wildlife. Coyotes, snakes, wild dogs, boars, pigs, and even the occasional bear wouldn't be out of place in the national forest of southern Mississippi.

I took one of the M&P's. It had a smaller grip which fit my hand fairly well. With it secure in its holster, I scooped up four clips and a box of .45 ammo.

It may sound like Jethro is some survivalist or in lesser terms a gun nut. He wasn't. While he had more weapons than most people have teeth, each served a specific purpose and a specific person. For instance, one doesn't go hunting squirrel with a Beretta 12 gauge over and under. That's a little overkill. That's what the .22 long rifle was for.

Never had squirrel stew? You don't know what you are missing. And just from what Ally remembered, I threw up a little in my mouth. After reading El Goonish Shive, I could never bring myself to hunt squirrel.

Filling all four clips took me a few minutes, mainly because it kept pinching my finger and for some irrational reason I didn't want to break a nail. With two clips in their holders under my left arm, one clip in the pistol itself, and one spare, I pocketed the one remaining clip and ten cartridges and tossed the box into a specific container for reuse. Jethro made his own ammo.

On the way to the kitchen I donned the cover-up again and buttoned it so the pistol wouldn't blatantly show. Anyone that knew anything about carrying weapons would see that I was armed from the bulge. As far as I was concerned, that was a good thing. Perhaps it would make them think twice before doing something monumentally stupid.

Did I need the weapon for my day to day existence in this sleepy little town? Probably not, but knowing what I know now and the utter fragility of my current body, I felt a measure of security in the hunk of metal and ceramic hanging under my left arm.

"Hey Ally." Hannah wisely stayed away from the 'good mornings' that I remember her always greeting Ally with over the last year and a half.

"Hey."

"Hungry?"

I shook my head. Her eyes strayed to the lump under my shoulder. The only thing she had to say to that was, "Got your permit?"

I nodded. "In my purse." Which I sat on the table before heading to the coffee maker.

"Jethro's worried about you."

My hand shook a little as I poured a large mug and added a single sugar. "I figured. What time did I wake you guys up?"

"Eleven."

"Sorry," I almost whispered.

"Don't apologize, sweetheart. You've been through a lot. That's why I wanted you to see someone. They'll help you work through everything that you're feeling."

After taking a sip, I set the mug on the counter for fear of dropping it. "What's been workin' for me is to get my mind off of it and onto something constructive. That way, I don't have to think about it."

Hannah gave me a nod. "Jethro told me about the theater. Where did you get the money for something like that?"

"Investments." It was the truth. Not the whole truth, but still.

She gave that a thought or two. "That would have to be some serious investing. Maybe I ought to let you take some of my savings and see what you can do with it."

I shrugged. "If you want."

"How much would you need?"

I didn't get where she was going with this. One minute we were talking about psychiatrists and then next the stock market. Glancing up at her I laid it out. "If you are serious about making money then nothing less than ten grand. If you are just playing around then about a thousand."

She blinked. "You're serious?"

I nodded. "There's an IPO that will be opening up next Thursday. I'm dropping twenty thousand into it. If things go as I expect then I should see at least a forty percent return minimum."

Hannah jerked her hands away from her mug, not realizing how hot it had gotten. "You're eighteen? How can you know about stuff like this?"

I shrugged again. "I know people who know people. My net worth before I bought into the theater was a hundred and fifty grand give or take. I'm droppin' a load into that and I need to recoup the balance."

"Ten grand though?"

I nodded. "I can show you how to do it online. I'll never touch your money."

"Ally, we trust you…"

"No, no, don't think like that. This is your life savings that we're talking about. Don't trust anyone, family especially. Make an informed decision on your own. That way you have only yourself to blame if it falls through."

"Yeah, I could see how easy it would be to take it out on family," she said thoughtfully. "Is it risky?"

I nodded. "Anything to do with the stock market is risky. You could lose your entire investment."

She was actually thinking about it. "Could I maybe try it out one time and then if it works, go for more later?"

A smile rose on my face. The stock market was like a drug to some people. That initial investment is akin to taking your first hit of pot. You don't know what to expect and you're nervous. You just got to make sure you don't go any further and wind up mainlining heroin. A decent investment analogy would be putting all your eggs in one basket and hoping for the best. That's what I was currently doing.

I had the original ten grand Ally started off with in IRA's. Everything else was on the line with this IPO. I just had to make sure that my investment heroin was quality and not cut with borax or something.

"Wednesday night is when I'm buying in. You can add yours on top of mine if you want. It's a minimum ten grand buy-in, but with mine there, you'd be cool."

"I'll think about it."

With a thoughtful nod, Hannah cleared away the cobwebs of the mind. "What time do you want to head down to the theater?"

"Does the hardware store still open at six?"

She looked at her watch. "Twenty of. You mind if I tag along?"

That gave me a happy. "Not at all. You don't have to fix Uncle Jethro's lunch or something?"

Hannah stood and grabbed her purse from a small table beside the refrigerator. "He always makes sandwiches from the leftovers. I've got a nice pitcher of lemonade in the fridge he can drink too. So it's just us girls today."

I downed the rest of the coffee and rinsed my mug before grabbing my purse and heading out the front door. Jethro was pulling the small tractor out of the barn right when we stepped off of the porch. We waited for him to pull up and kill the motor.

"Heading to the theater?"

Hannah nodded. "You need anything from town?"

He spotted the bulge under my shirt. "No, I'm good. You got your permit, Ally?"

I nodded and patted my purse. He nodded off to the fence line. "See that dead tree there? Bottom branch? Center a full clip in the trunk before that weapon leaves this property."

"Yes sir." I handed Hannah my purse and withdrew the M&P. Breathing out for a second, I pulled the slide back and took the safety off before aiming.

"Both eyes open."

"I remember."

The recoil was a lot more pronounced than I was used to, but then again I was in a weaker body. After adjusting my grip and stance slightly, I popped off the rest of the clip with disappointing results. Two hits, and they weren't even centered.

"You're pulling to your right."

"Yes sir."

I reloaded and stretched out my neck. The next clip saw a marked improvement. Seven out of ten.

"Better."

I nodded and fed the ten spare rounds into the first clip. I had to get this one right or else go hunt down more ammo for my spare clip. Breathing out again, I tried to relax and center myself. Bringing the pistol up, I released the safety and let loose with all ten shots. It wasn't the prettiest I'd ever shot, but they were grouped within a two foot radius of the center.

"Good enough for now. This afternoon I'll break out the targets and we'll burn a couple more boxes though."

I nodded and exchanged one of my spares with the empty in the pistol. That left me with twenty shots and if I needed that many in the first place then I was dead or there were zombies after me. Damn zombies. Shotguns or sniper rifles were better on them anyway. Don't laugh. People always think I kid about those things. But just you wait, come zombie Armageddon, who's gonna be ready?

Twenty minutes later and we were pulling into the slanted parking space in front of the hardware store. Wiggins, being mostly a farming community, was already wide awake, but not exactly bustling. I saw the red light to the open sign turn on. Hannah's truck, another Ford F-250, wasn't as tall as Jethro's, so my drop to the ground wasn't as spine jarring. However, the slide over the side of the seat made my shorts dig up in-between my butt cheeks, which I had to discreetly pick out afterward. I've got to find a better way of getting out of their vehicles.

The cow bells over the door, clanged upon its opening, alerting whoever was inside that there were customers or possibly a stampede of cattle.

"Ally-cat!"

I looked over behind the front counter and let Ally's memories bring up a name and associated history of the person making fun of my name. But that only brought up feelings of safety, kindness, and general lovability about the young man holding a straw broom.

"Brock-a-saurus!" I replied with general happiness. Brock Simpson was the one of my classmates in high school. Except he really didn't belong there. Suffering from Down Syndrome, he was noticeably behind others, education wise. But the teachers wound up graduating him on up grade after grade, passing the buck, so they didn't have to deal with him.

The main problem was that he was always picked on by the bullies and even those that weren't normally bullies. He looked different than them so it was natural to look down upon him, I suppose. The sweetest person that Ally had ever known had taken a likening to her, probably because she never once made fun of him and often stood up for him in front of others. He, in turn, stood up for her.

Brock had always worked at the hardware store with his brother Brett, and was often the muscle that hauled the heaviest things around. If there was one person that could stand up to Jethro, muscle wise, within a hundred miles, it was Brock.

Again I was up in the air being swung around like a rag doll. While comforting in certain ways, it was still disturbing how easily men were able to pick me up.

"Brock, put her down!"

I came to a jarring stop at the sound of his brother, Brett.

"Aww Brett, it's Ally-cat."

I hugged the big lug and saw him frown as he let me down.

"It's okay Brock-a-saurus," I whispered. "You can pick me up again later, okay?"

He smiled, showing many deformed and mal-positioned teeth. "You promise?"

I raised up an eyebrow and gave him a playful glare. "Have I ever broken my word to you Brock-a-saurus?"

"No."

"Well there you go. Only two men can pick me up around here and that's my Uncle Jethro and you.

"You're in good company there, Brock. Let's get back to work now," said Brett.

Cocking my head to the side, I saw that Ally's memories of the other Simpson boy were the same. He was six feet tall, easy. Messy brown hair and eyes… his eyes weren't messy, just his hair. And he was dressed, as usual in loose fitting clothes so nobody could actually see what he looked like.

"Hey Brett."

He nodded, and if he had a hat on I'd swear that he would tip it at me. "Good morning, Ally. It's nice to have you back in town."

I debated whether or not to step in and hug him, but not receiving a compulsion led me to believe I shouldn't. "Thanks. It's nice to be back."

His eyes moved to my Aunt and with a nod he greeted her. "Mrs. Baker."

"Hello Brett," she said with a knowing smile.

He become a little uncomfortable and his boots shuffled. "Business or pleasure today?"

That diverted my attention back to where it was supposed to be. "Business. I'm renovating the theater and I need supplies."

He looked gob-smacked. "You're opening the theater?"

I shook my head. "Turning it into an internet café."

"Really?"

I nodded. "I imagine we'll get a lot of the supplies through here and if you can set me up with a decent contractor that won't rob me blind I'd appreciate it."

"Brock, can you get me my blue book from the office?" he asked his brother.

"You bet."

"Brett looked happy to see you."

"I guess."

We moved the truck a couple of stores down and across the street to the theater.

"He called just an hour after you left for the city. Sounded really disappointed that he missed you."

After unlocking the front door and finding the lights, I looked back at Hannah, suspiciously. "He was always nice to me. I guess it's because I was always nice to his brother."

Hannah snorted. "Yeah, that's probably the reason."

Finally clicking to what she was implying, I shook my head. "I'm not looking for a boyfriend, Aunt Hannah."

I received a shrug in response. "The good ones won't stay available forever."

That brought a frown to my face. "Brett?"

"Uh-huh. His dad will be retiring in a couple of years and leaving the store to Brett. He only comes in to close now." She led the way back to the truck so we could start bringing in the cleaning supplies. "He's got himself forty acres and a double-wide at the old Pierson place. Building his own house on the weekends."

My frown increased. "Should I check his teeth and withers to make sure they're firm enough?"

A bright giggle sounded. "That might not be a bad idea. I suppose he's hiding a nice body underneath those baggy clothes of his."

I appreciated her effort, but right then wasn't the time. "I'm not looking for any men, or women for that matter." At the implied lesbianism, Hannah's eyes went wide with mirth. "So keep your matchmaking reins in for awhile."

The morning was spent doing everything that I knew anything about. I fixed three water taps in the bathrooms, replaced the inner workings of two toilets, tossed the mirrors, and replaced one of the return arms on the bathroom door. By noon I was exhausted. While Ally looked good, she wasn't in good shape. Letting men do all of the hard work and lifting all of her life hadn't done her any favors. It was a wonder I was able to get anything done at all.

"Knock knock!" came a male voice that I knew from this morning.

Sticking my head out of the alcove leading to the bathrooms, I saw Brett and Brock standing there holding two large paper sacks. "Hey guys."

"Ally-cat!"

I giggled a little. "Hey Brock-a-saurus. What are you guys doing here?"

Brett hefted one of the bags. "Girl's got to eat."

I shove my hands in my back pockets and smiled in surprise. "You brought me lunch?"

He looked kind of sheepish for a second. "You and Mrs. Baker. I thought we might catch up."

"Hannah's gone home to check on Uncle Jethro." I looked around for somewhere to eat, but since it was a movie theater there weren't any tables. "We can eat at the concession stand."

There were a few stools behind the counter that would serve in lieu of actual chairs.

Brett looked pleased that Hannah wasn't around. I guess she was right.

"We got Bar-B-Que, Ally-cat." Brock loved gnawing on the ribs. That's why Ally gave him the nickname Brock-a-saurus.

"Sounds great!"

We made our way behind the counter. As Brock was exploring what it was like to be where he'd never been allowed before, Brett and I unloaded the bags onto the counter.

"Sorry about the lack of air conditioning." I flitted a hand in the air. "I think the compressor's fried."

"It's not a problem. I'm used to the heat. Been working a lot outside on the weekends."

I nodded. "That's right. Hannah mentioned that you were buildin' your own house."

Brett's eyes lit up. "I am. Got the old Pierson place at a sweet price."

"That's great."

We doled out food for each of us and then double the amount for his brother's healthy appetite.

"Brock, come eat."

He was there in a flash, but his eyes were still wandering around the deserted theater concession.

The taste of the pulled pork sandwich sent me into heaven for a short time. After my first swallow a delighted moan escaped my mouth. "This is so good, Brett. Thank you for stopping by."

"It's my pleasure."

Sauce leaked out onto my thumb, and being the waste not want not kind of person that I am, I popped it into my mouth to lick it off. That froze Brett in his place for a few moments until I'd pulled my thumb back out. It was obvious that I needed to distract him in some way.

"How far along are you with the new house?"

He blinked his vision clear. "Uh, foundation's laid and the frame is pretty much up."

"Wow, you're moving right along."

He shrugged. "Brock's been helping me a lot."

I spared a glance at the gentle giant who was grinning from the praise and trying to suck the marrow out of the second rib he'd already consumed.

"Is he living with you?"

Brett seemed a little too quick with the answer this time. "Naw, he's with Dad at nights. Helps out with the cows and stuff in the morning before coming to the store. I'd rather he be there to help. Dad's been throwing his back out more and more lately."

I nodded in understanding before trying the potato salad. Heaven, pure heaven.

Idle chit-chat filled the next fifteen minutes before we were finished with the majority. I cleaned up, resealing the leftover food in one bag and the trash in the other which I offered to take care of. Brett handed Brock a set of keys.

"Hey big guy. Why don't you go ahead and I'll meet you at the store, okay?"

Brock grabbed the keys. "Okay. See you around Ally-cat."

"Bye Brock-a-saurus."

Once we were alone, I got decidedly nervous. Not because I thought Brett would hurt me or anything, maybe just the opposite. His ears reddened, and I could see he was trying to get the nerve to say something. I took that chance to use one of the wet-wipes to clean the sticky sauce out from under one of my nails. I swear those things could pick up the slightest amount of dirt.

"Uh, the fourth's this weekend."

I looked up and nodded. "Sunday."

"Uh-huh." His hand tightened around the paper bag he was holding. "I was wondering… if maybe… they're having a fireworks show out in Briar Park, over the water. If you didn't have a date or anything, I wondered if you might want to go with me?"

I was about to inform him of my non-dating status, but right then another dammed compulsion overcame me and I almost blurted out. "Yes!"

"Really?"

I was just as shocked as Brett was, really. Then words just started falling out of my mouth. "You could show me your new house too. If you want, I mean."

Energy filled him, and I visibly saw him stand straighter. "Yeah, that would be great. Maybe we could go out to dinner or something first."

"Okay."

"Okay. Um, great. Say about three on Sunday afternoon? I'll pick you up at your place?"

"Okay." I seemed to be stuck saying that since nothing else intelligible was exiting my mouth.

"Great." Yes, it's all great. I'm going on a date, with a guy. Groan. "I guess I'll see you then."

To my surprise he leaned in and kissed me on my cheek before sheepishly disappearing out the door.

Maybe this whole inhabiting the body of an innocent girl so her family didn't have to suffer through another tragedy thing wasn't such a good idea.

"She is with her parents and doesn't want to leave them. They're happy now."

I looked on at the angel that really didn't seem to be that much of an angel since she was dressed in a skimpy denim number, showing so much leg that it would tempt the most pure-hearted man into lusty thoughts.

"What am I supposed to do about it?"

She crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair. "You could take her place."

The bullet hole I'd received through my chest in life had followed me through to the afterlife as well. It was annoying, since every time I took a breath, I heard a faint whistle. "You mean like reincarnation?"

The angel shook her head. "Not exactly. We would put you back, except it would be in her body."

Energy seemed to be sucked out of me at that point. "But… but… I don't know how to be a girl. I'm a guy!"

"We would allow you to have access to her memories. While it might be unusual to experience two lifetimes worth of memories, one being female, it is still doable. Additionally, we would instill compulsions that would make you act and sound like Allison. That way you don't expose yourself accidentally. Once you are comfortable in your new body those compulsions would fade."

I was quickly running out of options. "What am I supposed to do?"

The angel shrugged. "That is your choice. You still have free will. However your choices are limited. You can either spend quite a long time here in Limbo trying to work through your guilt in the escapade that brought you here, or you can go back to the mortal world and perform a penance that would be acceptable to you."

Both choices had a serious downside. "If only I didn't…"

The angel sighed. "James, I cannot convince you as to what part you played in the death of Allison Baker. That guilt is your own. Contrary to what most theologies state, guilt and sin are applied to one's self, through one's self. Only you can rid yourself of this anchor that ties you to Limbo."

Penance was due, any way I looked at the situation. It was the only way I could live with myself. "Okay."

"Ally?" I blinked back to awareness to see Hannah standing in front of me with a worried look on her face. "Are you okay?"

"Oh hey. I didn't see you come in."

She gave me a soft laugh. "I guess so. You were totally out of it." She stopped and looked around, then sniffed the air. "Is that Bar-B-Que I smell?"

"Uh, yeah. Brett and Brock stopped by with lunch."

"Oh really?" Now she seemed more interested.

"Yeah. Apparently I have a date for the fireworks show this Sunday."

"Ahh, now I see what has you off in the clouds."

My eyelids dropped, half closed in a threatening leer. "Don't even start. He was nice enough to bring me lunch. I thought it would be rude to turn him down."

"Uh-huh."

TBC...

Pic Credit: Marty McBride