Cyrano de BOTgerac

At that point, our server placed a large bowl of soup in front of me. I asked her, "What's this?"

"It's called carne en su jugo."

"Meat in its juice?"

"Yes, it's a green chile soup with beef, onion, bacon and peppers. Provecho!"

I thanked her, and turned to TL. "What are you going to do with all of the data from the library audit?"

"One of my college classmates now works for the FBI Cyber Division. He passed me on to one of his colleagues in the Omaha field office. I met with him back in February and turned over all of the information I had collected. He was horrified to learn how easy it is to VIN-lock farm machinery. He was also rather annoyed at the thought of a piss ant like Lester exploiting it for cash. He cited two federal laws: the Computer Fraud and Abuse Act and the Critical Infrastructure Information Act. He seemed to think that both were applicable. He also said that he would see if Homeland Security considered this an act of domestic terrorism."

I swallowed a large spoonful of my soup. Yum! Then the peppers in the soup detonated in the back of my mouth, and I gasped.

TL thought this was hilarious, and said, "Got a little kick to it, doesn't it?"

I gulped down some water, and wheezed, "Oh yeah, but so good."

After a few more swallows of ice water, I said, "You sicced the feds on him? Wow! That's brilliant."

"I am still extremely pissed off at him for drugging me and Roxanne, especially since we couldn't prove it. So, I figured that what was good for Al Capone might also be good for Dick Lester, i.e. convict him of something easier to prove."

"Ah, like the way they got Capone for income tax evasion when they couldn't prove murder."

"Exactly. The FBI and Homeland have a lot of cool technical gear. If Lester keeps on bricking tractors, they should be able to prove it pretty easily."

I continued to eat my soup, but in much smaller mouthfuls. "Do you mind if I share this news with Roxanne?"

"I'd rather you keep it to yourself for now. Hopefully the feds will soon gather enough to put him away. Wouldn't that be a great wedding present?"

By now, my mouth was on fire and my ears were sweating. Even so, I eventually finished every delicious and fiery bit of my soup, and paid the bill with good grace. We stopped by TL's house to pick up a few things, and then headed back to the farm.

* * *

When we got back to the farm, the cabal of women pounced on us, and gave us both to-do lists. TL's list simply contained a large question mark. He gave me a flash of side-eye, and then knelt in front of Allison. He pulled out a small box and held it out to her. "Allison, dear heart. Will you marry me?"

Allison opened the box and pulled out a ring. She slipped it on and smiled, and the sun did, indeed, seem to shine a bit brighter outside. "Of course I will. Now stand up and kiss me!"

The first item on my to do list was to call my parents. They were thrilled to hear the news, and promised to come and spend the whole wedding week at the Robinson farm.

* * *

Chapter 10 -- May and June

In mid-May, I flew to Boston for the Medical AI Meeting. MAIM is a small but select group with less than 100 members. That year MAIM was a two-day event at a hotel in nearby Gloucester. Roxanne picked me up at Logan, and we drove out there together. We gave our talks the first thing the next morning, and then spent the rest of the day on a whale watching cruise.

Our boat encountered a pod of humpback whales about two-thirds of the way to Cape Cod. The whales were fairly active that day -- especially one calf who put on quite a show, leaping and splashing around our boat. I got some nice videos of the whales that day. My favorite shot was when three whales came swimming toward our boat in unison and then swam down underneath us. It was a magnificent day. The only cross word I heard the whole day was the profanity that erupted when one woman dropped her iPhone in the ocean.

We got back to shore in time for a lobster feast with our colleagues. Roxanne and I retired to our room fairly early, and had some great reunion sex before falling asleep in each other's arms.

The second (and last) day of MAIM was another half-day of short, informal talks followed by lots of Q and A time. During the breaks between talks, Roxanne and I chatted with colleagues with similar interests, and blue-skyed about possible mutual projects. We got a lot of questions about our plans for next year and several job offers.

After the meeting ended, we drove back to Boston, stopping along the shore to have lobstah rolls for lunch. We then prowled through a few jewelry stores looking at wedding rings. After looking at a lot of flashy and pricey jewelry, we opted for a set of simple silver rings that matched Roxanne's engagement ring, and had our names engraved inside.

We spent several hours taking long walks along the Charles, talking about the future. Up to now, our relationship had been spent a continent apart, interspersed with a patchwork of long weekends held together by Zoom and texting. We were pretty tired of that, and knew that whatever we did next was going to be together in the same town. It occurred to us that we had both been on similar educational conveyor belts for most of our lives, and that we were both ready for a break. Roxanne said, "What do you think about a six month honeymoon, just bumming around the planet?"

"Awesome idea. South America, Australia, Japan, New Zealand and Europe come to mind for me."

"Those would be a good start."

* * *

By now, I had flown the Alaska Airlines non-stop from Seattle to Boston so many times that I was on a first-name basis with several of the flight attendants. They congratulated me on the upcoming wedding, and said that they would miss seeing me on this route.

Roxanne and I spent the rest of May and June a continent apart, checking off innumerable items on our respective to-do lists. I wrapped up several of the research projects I had going in our lab. I divided most of my time after work between runs around Green Lake and aikido practice.

Several of my dojo pals helped me tune up for my brown belt exam in mid-June. Waiting for the test to begin was the worst part. However, once Sally Sensei clapped her hands, my mind became still. For the next 20 minutes, she barked out random attack/throw combinations in Japanese. After practicing for so long, I felt like I was merely a passive vessel for her words. They flowed through my ears and my body reacted appropriately as my dojo mates took turns attacking me. Finally, she clapped her hands and said the word I'd been waiting for: "Randori!"

Two brown belts and one black belt stood up and faced me on the mat. We bowed toward Sensei and then toward each other. She clapped her hands, and they attacked me. The next minutes of my life were an improvisational dance with my friends. I whirled and dodged, keeping to the outside and dispatching them one by one with a series of quick throws. Unlike the three idiots who attacked me in Coon Rapids, these people knew how to fall properly, and were quickly back on their feet to attack me again. I worked hard for several minutes evading them, and doing quick throws when they came too close. Eventually, Sensei clapped her hands one final time. We bowed to each other, and then to Sensei, and we all kneeled in front of her in seiza.

During the test, Sensei had maintained a neutral expression. She now wore a huge smile. She presented me with my new brown belt, as the rest of the dojo applauded. She tied on my new belt and gave me a big hug. It was a great feeling.

* * *

Other than a suitcase of clothes and my computer bag, I moved all of my posessions into a long-term storage locker. The folks at my lab had a going away dinner for me. On my last week of work, my lab director sat down with me in her office, and had a chat about my future. I told her our plans for a six month honeymoon, which she thought was an excellent plan. She had met Roxanne at several of the AI meetings, and was fairly impressed with our work together. She gave me open-ended job offers for both of us to consider.

Then, the moment arrived that I had waited for all year -- the day I flew to Iowa to spend the rest of my life with Roxanne.

* * *

Chapter 11 -- July

My parents beat me to Iowa by several days. Allison's parents arrived soon after that. They all quickly became close friends with Roxanne's parents and Aunt Marcy. The Mom Mafia then became the benevolent rulers of the farm, with Roxanne and Allison as their lieutenants. Tommy Lee and I and the rest of the men kept our heads down and did as we were told.

The battle preparations were finally finished by July 9th. For a bachelor party, the men hauled me and TL off to a picnic area along the riverbank, with a campfire, and several bottles of Templeton Rye. We spent the evening telling stories, sipping the Rye, and skipping stones across the river. At one point, Roxanne's brothers thought it would be a great idea to throw me in the river. I wish I could tell you that my mad aikido skillz sent them all into the water instead. Nope. My dad distracted me, allowing those two sneaky bastards to grab me and dump my ass in the drink. Then the brothers and dads all swarmed TL while he was laughing at me. The night was warm, and the water was refreshing. They handed me and TL another shot of Rye as we crawled out of the river. The party moved to the barn at some point, and then I lost the plot line completely.

* * *

I was awakened the next morning by a dog licking my face. I sat up and found myself on one of several cots in the barn, covered by a quilt. The dog moved on to the cadaver on the next cot, and began the revivification process again. I clambered to my feet and headed off to pee behind the barn.

My next urgent need was coffee, so I stumbled over to the house, squinting at the bright sunny morning. I went in the kitchen door, and found three amazingly chipper dads bustling about, frying sausages and hash browns, making a mound of toast and a huge pile of scrambled eggs. My dad gave me a hug and shoved a cup of coffee in my hand. By and by we were joined by TL and Roxanne's brothers.

The stir in the kitchen eventually woke up the dregs of the bachelorette party. Female zombies staggered out of the bedrooms, and mutely accepted cups of coffee and a bottle of ibuprofen. While we were at the river the night before, the women had held a bridal party at the farm house. We aren't too sure what they got up to, but it was probably slightly more genteel than our river party. Judging by all the empty wine bottles we saw in the recycling bin, a fair amount of fun had been had. After breakfast, TL and I were evicted from the premises, and told to come back all dressed up at 4 pm. We did as we were told.

* * *

When we returned that afternoon, we were amazed at the transformation of the farm. Teenage parking wardens led us to a VIP parking slot over by the barn. As we walked to the house, we passed by a large outdoor dining area filled with tables and chairs and festooned with ribbons. Dozens of people mingled there, sipping lemonade and chatting. At the house, we were met by two teenage girls, who pinned small corsages to our lapels and told us to join the other men sitting on the porch.

At 4:30, the front door opened, and a group of fiddlers and other instruments came out, playing a stately Swedish walking tune. They were followed by the women of the bridal party. As the moms emerged, they were joined by their husbands. Roxanne's brother Joe took his Aunt Marcy's arm. Roxanne and Allison were the last ones out. They took me and TL in hand and off we went. The rest of the guests -- including Sally Ueshiba and her girlfriend -- fell in behind us.

The band led the procession up the hill, and we eventually arrived at a clearing in one of the corn fields. From there we could see the green fields of the farm below, punctuated by the river winding through them. It was a glorious day to be alive. Being surrounded by all of our friends and family made it doubly so.

The band played until all of the guests were in place. We then faced the judge conducting the ceremony. She was an old family friend of the Robinsons, and her kids had grown up with Roxanne and TL. First she led Roxanne and Allison through their vows, and then TL and I said ours. Rings were exchanged. The judge smiled, raised her hands and said, "You are married! You may kiss your spouse!" We did that and the crowd cheered.

The musicians led us back down the hill to the wedding feast. I had previously heard wild parties described as "a hog killin' and a picture takin'." This party was literally both of those things. A hog had been butchered and then roasted slowly all day over an open fire. Fresh corn was boiled in giant iron pots. Platters were heaped with other delicacies. Once everyone had eaten their fill, the fiddlers struck up a tune and led us all off to the barn. Minions had transmogrified the place into a festive reception hall, including a dance space ringed by chairs.

The musicians filed up onto an impromptu stage built from hay bales. One of the fiddlers announced, "Please welcome Allison, Tommy Lee, Roxanne and Chris to their first dance together as wives and husbands." As the band played a sweet waltz, we took our sweeties in our arms, and spun around the floor. After a few turns, the fiddler announced, "Snowball waltz!" We split from our spouses and seized family members from the sidelines, pulling them into the dance. After a few turns, those pairs split again, and pounced on remaining spectators, until the whole crowd was dancing in our honor. As the waltz ended, the fiddler asked us to form a big circle with our current dance partners. She then led us through a series of easy figures. That morphed into a series of square dances with dosido's, sashays, and partner swings that burned off a few calories.

The band took a break, and two twin wedding cakes were wheeled out into the center of the floor. Toasts and speeches were made, cakes were cut and eaten, and the wild rumpus continued. TL and I had set up a wedding website, where the guests uploaded a zillion pictures and videos to create a giant, crowd-sourced wedding album.

* * *

After the dance ended, and the last guests had departed, Roxanne and I stumbled into our bedroom, ripped off our clothes, and made mad, passionate sleep together. That's right -- after cuddling up in bed, skin to skin, we were unconscious moments later. We slept for hours, waking only to go pee. Then we slept some more.

I finally woke up with my morning wood spooned against Roxanne's rear. When she sensed that I was awake, she wiggled her butt until my wood not only would, but could enter her from behind. We coupled this way for a couple of minutes. Then she separated from me and rolled over on top of me. She slipped me back inside her and then began to ride me in earnest, with her hair tossing and her breasts swaying. I wasn't going to last very long at this pace, and said, "Oh lord, Cowgirl! I'm about to..."

"Me too, Cowboy! Yippee-ki-yi-... Aiiiiiieeee!!" With that, we both detonated and were nonverbal for a while until our brains had a chance to reboot.

Finally she said, "That was a hoot and a holler."

"Yep. Made me want to slap my chaps with my hat."

She snickered. "I didn't notice you wearing a hat down there. That sure felt like a bareback ride to me!"

"I guess I could use my hand..." and I slapped her ass.

She yipped, and then slapped my ass right back. "Better watch out, Cowboy. If I ever catch you wearing chaps to bed, I'm going to put on my boots and spurs."

* * *

Breakfast was only mildly embarrassing. We tried not to blush too hard as several families worth of relatives gave each other side-eye and little smirks throughout the meal.

Sometime after breakfast, TL and Allison rolled up in his twin cab truck. Planning for the double wedding had included planning a month-long double honeymoon together in Europe. We tossed our bags in the back of the truck and then had a final round of hugs with our families.

Finally we got in the truck and TL drove us to Des Moines. After dropping the truck in long-term parking, we flew to Chicago. As we waited to board our flight to Paris, we had a round of drinks at one of the bars in Terminal 5. Our first toast: "To Chicago, where it all began!"

* * *

Denouement

I could tell you about our time in Paris, with our long walks along the Seine in the warm summer evenings. I could mention the flea market, the museums and the cuisine, but I'll just say that we had a wonderful month together. Between Roxanne's French, TL's German and my Spanish, we were fluent enough to get around much of Europe pretty well, with only the occasional visit to Google Translate. We visited a mixture of big cities and tiny villages. We did some amazing hikes, and had wonderful conversations with locals.

While spending a day at a Spanish winery, TL shared an email from his friend at the FBI. Based on TL's initial tip, Dick and Buster were caught bricking several more tractors. They were arrested and charged with multiple counts of computer fraud. We celebrated that news by drinking another bottle of a local vintage. TL expressed our feelings best with his toast. "Here's to Dick and Buster and their future sex life in prison -- minus the date-rape drugs!"

* * *

We spent our last week together in Germany, and got a bit maudlin at dinner one night in Berlin. Our relationship had progressed to something deeper than mere friendship. For want of a better term, we had started calling each other our 'siblings-by-choice'.

After dinner, we ambled along Kurfürstendamm. As we passed by the Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church, we stopped briefly to admire the war-damaged spire of the old church and the modern belfry of the new church. We continued our stroll past the entrance to the Berlin Zoo on the way back to our hotel.

TL turned to Roxanne and me. "What are you guys going to do for the next 5 months? Heck, what are you going to do after that?"

I shrugged. "Good question. It's been great hopping off the research conveyor belt for a while. Dunno if I want to get back on it just yet. How about you, Rox?"

Roxanne said, "Research is a lot of fun. However, I've really enjoyed NOT doing it for a while."

Allison said, "This has been a wonderful month for me and TL. We dread the thought of flying back to Iowa without you guys."

Roxanne said, "Same here." and I agreed.

Our musings were interrupted as a light rain began to fall. We scampered back to the hotel, and arrived moist but not quite ready for bed. An alert concierge produced towels from out of nowhere, and we dried our heads and arms. We moved to the hotel bar, where we warmed ourselves with hot mugs of Bavarian coffee, laced with peppermint schnapps and whipped cream.

TL said, "So, what if we could somehow keep this going? Continue travelling around the world and having adventures together? What would it take to make that happen?"

We summarized our personal assets on a couple of cocktail napkins -- it didn't take many. In a nutshell, we each had some modest savings, no major debts and a crap-ton of earning potential.

We filled another napkin with our travel expenses for the past month and added it to the array of damp paper. TL chuckled, and said, "As spreadsheets go, I've seen a lot worse. Kind of like us, soggy but solvent."

We laughed, and Roxanne said, "Based on our travel expenses so far, looks like we could keep going another six months before any of us have to work again."