I want to thank everyone that helped me with this story. And I also want to thank everyone for reading and kind comments. Believe me they are appreciated especially this one as I have wavered between three versions.

In this chapter Harvard leads Atalanta to meet new friends and school days draws closer.

Chapter 10

Ben Donner found his wife, Eloise on the front porch her eyes scanning the horizon. He stood nearby quietly watching her.

“Ben,” she spoke softly without turning to face him. He walked and stood beside her. After 24 years of marriage and three children he knew Eloise as well as he did himself. She had been distracted and withdrawn for a couple of months but more so the last two days.

Eloise felt her husband’s presence long before he came to stand beside her. She was aware that Ben expected an explanation. She wasn’t sure he would understand but as the head of the tribal council she had duties that reached beyond her household. When she assumed the ceremonial leadership role she had also accepted the spiritual mantle attached.

Her gaze locked on the great bird with the distinctive profile that had just alighted on a branch in an old oak tree devoid of leaves.

Ben turned and looked in the direction she was focused on and he saw the bird too. As it lifted from it’s perch, she turned to her husband.

“It can mean many things,” Ben said, his head tilting with the owl.

Eloise sighed. Ben meant well. “Owls are messengers,” she intoned, “sometimes it takes time to decipher their message. I know our traditions hold them as harbingers of death but that is only a surface prediction. I think this message is that of a blessing, or a curse, and I believe that we can determine which that will be.”

Eloise smiled at her husband her eyes lighting up, “That is why I’ve been in meditation this weekend. I feel we have an opportunity to create a beneficial alliance or create an enemy.”

“So,” Ben asked, “you have any idea what form this message takes?”

“No, I don’t,” Eloise admitted a half smile playing on her lips, “we’ll have to wait and see.”

Harvard and dawn’s early light guided me down a steep trail that emptied into a valley that ran roughly west to east. Harvard had shown up yesterday morning as I was breaking camp. He had flown off in the direction I’d decided on, so I followed him.

For the rest of the day, Sunday, Harvard would disappear only to reappear at regular intervals to spur me on. This morning he had called repeatedly until I had exited my tent.

“Keep your shirt on,” I growled at the pesky bird, “I’m hungry,” and I began building a fire.

He called back at me excitedly before flying off. Shrugging I fed and watered my animals and began breaking camp as my breakfast was cooking. Afterwards I washed the cooking utensils and myself in the creek that I had followed most of yesterday.

I was starting to feel grimy after three days in the wilderness and longer since I’d had a shower or bath. Yesterday Manny and Nick seemed confident that after today I could come in out of the cold, so to speak. I had another mother daughter chat too, wincing slightly that we were misleading her in thinking I was safe in a house somewhere in the Boston area surrounded by my own set of bodyguards.

Riding across pine carpeted woods, crossing rushing creeks, and up, around, and down rocky trails, I had traveled through most of the terrain that surrounded Whateley Academy. On several occasions I had stopped to study the campus wondering which one was Poe cottage, and how I was going to fare.

Today, though I had crossed over a ridge line into a long narrow valley that showed evidence of recent travels. Harvard disappeared into the rising sun while I kept to the trees, but still following the old road.

About mid-morning I crested a hill and stopped dead in our tracks when the old dirt road suddenly became freshly graveled. On my left about 100 yards farther sat the proverbial little red school house, two athletic fields in the back and three maintenance buildings. Farther yet, at the base of the cliffs and beside a rushing stream, another building was erected. Its design suggested a power plant.

I saw no one outside, and then remembered that it was a school day. Kicking my horse into motion we continued to follow the road at a distance. After passing the school house I was surprised to find a well worn footpath on my right, and spanning the stream a pedestrian bridge that led into the woods paralleling the direction I had journeyed yesterday. If the path continued, I felt sure it ended near Whateley.

Ahead Harvard called urging me to hurry. Side streets soon emerged with neat rows of housing laid out on either side. Across the road stood a row of municipal buildings; the sheriff’s office and jail, city hall, courthouse, and town maintenance shops.

The business district was laid out in a square, it’s streets aligned with a compass’ cardinal points with the businesses lining the main streets and the housing set farther back. I identified a garage fuel station and parts warehouse alongside a grain and feed store. Facing it and across the street was a department store and grocer. Situated perpendicular was a clothing and electronics store, and a combination barber and hair stylist.

Harvard was screeching at me perched high in an oak tree with it’s leaves stripped. Jostling my horses into motion we ambled down the street and towards Harvard as he was insistently calling. Again, I found it odd that there seemed to be no foot traffic.

Ben was outside carrying firewood inside to fill the wood box when he looked up and saw the lone rider approaching, leading two horses. The long coat and wide brimmed hat hid the rider’s features. He could tell that the traveler was slim of build and above average in height and most likely young; under 25.

Depositing the wood in its designated place on the back porch he crossed over and opened the kitchen door, “Eloise,” he called, “I think your message has arrived.”

“I know,” she replied softly, “no need for you to wake the dead,” she smiled at him as he came to stand beside her. Both looked through the kitchen window as the horses had stopped at the entrance to their house, and beneath the oak tree where the owl was perched.

“Let’s go and greet our guest,” she suggested moving towards the front door. They walked quickly across the kitchen and living room, opening the front door and stepping out onto the porch.

“Hello, can we help you?”

“I’m not sure,” the rider replied dismounting and removing her hat. A mass of red fiery hair tumbled out, her gray green eyes sparkling. “I’ve been following Harvard; it seems, for the last several months. So here I am,” she added smiling revealing even white teeth, indicating with her gaze the owl.

Both adults were shocked by her quiet air of confidence that belied her tender years.

“Why don’t you come in, rest a bit and tell us about yourself,” Eloise invited.

“I need to look after my animals,” she responded unsheathing and unloading her pistols placing them in her saddlebags and removing a duffel bag tied to the saddle horn.

“Come on in, Ben will look after your horses.”

I saw the two faces at the window and since it was below the tree Harvard had chosen to rest in I stopped. After the figures in the window disappeared I clucked at my horse to move towards the house where the couple had moved to the front porch. They appeared to be in their early forties. He was a giant of a man; close to six and half feet with wide shoulders and narrow hips. The woman was about my height though she was heavier in her lower body. Both had swarthy complexions and dark hair.

After cursory greetings I swung easily off my horse and disarmed, handing over the reins to Big Ben at her invitation and followed the woman inside. We crossed the living room to the kitchen where she invited me to sit at the table.

“You want something to drink and eat?”

“If it’s not too much trouble,” I replied.

“It isn’t,” she stated, dishing out a bowl of stew and handing it across the table to me. “You want water or coffee?”

“Coffee sounds good,” I admitted as I took the offered bowl of stew, smelling the aroma of meat and spices teasing my suddenly growling belly.

As I was eating, the big man came in from tending to my horses. I assumed he was the woman’s husband which she quickly confirmed, “My name is Eloise Donner and this is my husband Ben. I’m the head of the tribal council of the Medawihla Indians.”

Implied in her introduction was asking who I was and what was I doing. I dropped my spoon into the empty bowl and considered my reply. By stopping and accepting their invitation I had obligated myself to provide them an explanation.
“Thank you for that food and coffee, it is the best I’ve had in days. I’m Atalanta Reid, and I guess I followed Harvard to your door.”

“Harvard?”

“That big ol’ Owl perched in your tree out there,” Eloise exchanged a quick look with her husband as I added, “He just shows up from time to time and I just sort of follow along when he does.”

“Really, how long has this been going on?”

I sensed more than idle curiosity in her question. I gave them a condensed version of the circumstances leading up to Harvard’s first appearance.

“So you’re a Whateley student then,” Mrs. Donner smiled at me when I finished.

“Yeah.”

“You’re a mutant then?”

“Yes,” I replied cautiously, the MCO and H1 still fresh in my mind.

“Don’t worry we are used to mutants around here,” she smiled assuredly at me. “But what are you doing out here and not in school?”

I recounted Friday’s events, my actions since, and the additional manpower I had called in.

“Mrs. Carson thinks you’re being guarded in a safe house somewhere in Boston but you’re out here in the wilderness instead. She’d be fit to be tied if she knew where you were at instead,” Mrs. Donner continued as a smile tugged briefly at the corners of her mouth.

“With all the recent attempts to kidnap me it seemed the best plan to us.”

“What does your mother think of you, a young girl, gallivanting all alone in the wild?”

Ducking my head I softly replied, “She thinks I’m in Boston, too.”

“You lied to your poor mother too,” she scolded me, her maternal instincts awakened.

A spark of anger jumped into my eyes before I could quench it, and straightening up I bit back a retort, replying mildly, “I guess I did.”

She then gave me a five minute warning and lecture on the dangers a girl faces alone and especially alone in the wild. “You could have gotten lost or broke an arm or a leg.”

“I didn’t though, I can take care of myself and I’m at home with Mother Nature.”

“I’m sure you think you can but all teenagers have an inflated sense of invincibility.”

“Except that I am …invincible that is,” I replied softly leaning back in the chair and grinning like a Cheshire cat. The woman may mean well but her words were starting to tire me.

My reply caught her flat-footed as her mouth twitched calling up a scathing reply. Before she did I changed tactics.
“Mr. Donner you haven’t said anything, do you think I’m a foolish, naïve young girl who’s in over her head too?” I drawled evenly.

He stared at me and then turned to look at his wife before rising from his chair, “Excuse me ladies but I believe I need to bring in more firewood.”

We both turned, silently watching his retreating backside. We quietly studied each other. “Can we start again?” I asked extending an olive branch.

“Okay, I’m Eloise Donner and that big lunk who just snuck out of here is my husband Ben.”

“I’m Atalanta Reid,” I replied extending my hand across the table, “and I seemed to have gotten sidetracked on my way to school.” We were both smiling as our hands clasped.

“That is a man’s greeting, we women are more about hugs,” She invited me rising from her seat. It was true, the custom of extending a hand, usually the right hand, showed that each party was unarmed. A hug was even more intimate and vulnerable.

As Alan, I was suspicious of the motives behind a hug. As Atalanta, I still entertained reservations dependent on the situation or the person. I had no qualms hugging Mom, Judy and Lindsey. Manny fell into the trusted category as did Mark and his guys.

Nevertheless, I returned her embrace.

“Whew girl, you’re ripe.”

“Sorry,” I replied, “but that water was too cold to bathe in.”

“You got a change of clothes?”

I nodded, “yes.” Mrs. Donner pointed at the first door off the kitchen, “That’s our guest bath. Why don’t you go in there and soak and I’ll bring in some towels?”

“Thank you I will,” I returned picking up my duffel bag and heading for the indicated room. Mrs. Donner returned with the towels as I was shaking out my clean clothing and hanging them up.

“I’ll wash those things if you want,” she stated pointed at my soiled clothing. Seeing my hesitation she quickly added, “I was about to wash a load of clothes anyway.”

“Okay thank you very much.”

“You yell when you get in the tub and I’ll come in and get your dirty clothes.” I nodded in agreement and began removing my boots as she hesitatingly queried, “You’re a changeling, aren’t you?”

I stopped with a sock in my hand, sitting on the tub’s edge. I narrowed my gaze, looking up at her giving her question it’s due consideration. I wasn’t ashamed of being either a boy or a girl but I thought by now it would not be obvious.
“Yeah I am, but how did you know? Was it something I’m doing that’s giving me away?”

“No, it’s nothing like that”, she quickly denied but then admitted, “maybe a little. You do have a man’s habit of directly challenging someone, but some women are more direct than others. We also lease some of our lands to the school. Over the years I’ve gotten to know some of the students and teachers and the ratio of changelings is increasing. You needn’t worry though outside of that context I wouldn’t have guessed.”

“That’s good to know,” I responded, “I’m not ashamed I was a boy and now a girl. I’m still the same person inside, and I was happy being a boy, and mostly so as a girl.”

“Just mostly so?”

“Mom and people in general seem to feel I need to be protected; or like a piece of china I might break. Not to brag but I could kick Alan’s rear-end everyday of the week and twice on Sundays.”

“I can take care of myself as well but I let Ben help me; it makes him feel good as a provider and it makes me feel good to feel protected. It’s a male and female thing. Haven’t you had a boy put his arm around you like that?”

The image of Jack giving me his coat sprang to mind and corners of my mouth crinkled in response, “Yes and it did feel good as you say, and I may want it, but I don’t need it.”

“Well I better leave before your water gets cold,” Mrs. Donner returned as she left the room gently closing the door behind her.

Finding some fasteners I pinned my hair up, quickly stripped and slithered into the water, before calling out to let her know I was in the bath.

An hour later I was seated at the kitchen table in clean clothes feeling both refreshed and contented.
“Thank you, I forgot what being clean felt like,” I smiled at Eloise and Ben who were both seated at the table with me.

“You sure clean up good dear,” Mrs. Donner replied adding, “What are your plans for the rest of the day?”

“I’m going to return these horses and spend tonight in Dunwich, and if everything goes as planned, turn myself in to Mrs. Carson tomorrow.”

“Don’t look so glum,” Mrs. Donner admonished laughing as they followed me outside to where Ben had tied the horses, “Mrs. Carson isn’t an ogre.”

Standing beside Gray I shook Ben’s hand while giving Eloise a hug; “I know and thanks again. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be all right. And,” I cautioned, “Remember, you haven’t seen me.”

Once the village had disappeared from view I placed a call to the outfitter I had bought the horses and tack from and arranged for him to pick me up.

Two hours and five miles later I met him and we soon had the horses loaded and gear stored. I made a deal with him to board and stable Gray through the summer months in exchange for two of his horses back. The sun was just setting behind the mountains as we drove through town.

After we had unloaded the horses we stowed my saddle and gear in a locked private locker. I left my plunder and my two suitcases in there as well while I called the Crescent Cab for a ride despite the outfitter’s offer to drive me into town.
“You’ve done enough already and I won’t put you out anymore.”

The cab pulling in and coming to a stop interrupted more offers as I hurriedly thanked the outfitter again, opening the back door and climbing in.

“Where to Miss?” the woman driver asked me looking in her rearview mirror.

“Where is a good place to eat?”

“The Carriage House is probably the best we have to offer.”

“Thanks, take me there.”

As we turned onto the paved road to town she asked, “Are you new in town?”

“Yeah, I’m new in town,” I replied dryly.

“You parents waiting for you in town?”

I tamped back my irritation at playing twenty questions with this windbag busybody as I wanted to remain as boring as possible. That might not be possible with this driver, but I had to try.

“They’re letting me explore a bit on my own. I’m meeting them tomorrow in Berlin. How about you?” I asked cheerfully, “You live here long, are you married,-any kids, how long have you been driving a cab …” She droned on clueless answering my twenty questions. During the drive I decided she would be lucky to remember her way home let alone remember me.

Breathing a sigh of relief when we pulled into the parking lot of the Carriage House I exited the cab, paid the fare and strolled across the lot to the entrance.