The Not so Secret Agent Ch. 15

Chapter 15: The Christmas Trip

Samantha Liggett stood in line at the local post office. She insisted that all the people waiting behind her go first. Most people were there to retrieve oversized Christmas presents. When it was Samantha's turn she picked up a different sort of package. The plain brown cardboard box weighed just about ten pounds and it had a Rika Chorna postmark on the lid.

She placed the box in the backseat of her car and drove directly home. She looked for an old Ford Bronco in the apartment's parking lot; Arthur wasn't home yet. Samantha carried the box inside and placed it on the couch.

She used a key to rip the tape. The shipping label had the name of her friend Katya on it- former friend now. Samantha had worked with Katya at the hospital for two years and even lived as a guest in her family home for a couple months after her release from custody. Katya, as Samantha's closest friend, had been looking forward to taking part in the wedding; the wedding that never happened.

Samantha opened the box. There were several personal items that she had left behind at Katya's home. Samantha had taken what she expected to be a short trip back to America. Then suddenly, inexplicably, she had answered the door at her parents' house and Arthur was there, just casually standing on the porch in a blue tee shirt and jeans. It didn't make any sense. Who was this person: a twin brother, a hallucination?

With a straight face, Arthur had said: "I'm looking to take advantage of an innocent young lady; have you seen one around?" Samantha had nearly passed out.

A little later she figured out what he had done and slapped him; then she kissed him again, then she screamed at him for taking such a risk and slapped him again. It went on like that for a while. Arthur thought it was awfully funny. That day Arthur thought everything was hilarious.

The days that followed were especially hard. Spokesman Ralkliv had called to report the disappearance of Criminal # 88588. Ralkliv described the circumstances.

According to Mr. Jakt and several other acquaintances, Arthur had complained that his new job was getting him out of shape, so for much of the summer he had been getting up before dawn to exercise. Every morning Arthur ran kilometers of city trails.

Several witnesses reported that at the end of his run, Criminal # 88588 always took a swim across the small river that runs through Rika Chorna. Afterwards, he would go back home, clean up, eat breakfast and then head off to work. On the morning of September twenty-fourth, Arthur Liggett didn't return.

Ralkliv described how authorities searched the park with dogs and searched the river using boats and divers but they were unable to find any sign of him. Then Ralkliv had to give Samantha the sad news: Arthur Liggett had likely drowned and was presumed dead.

Samantha had to suffer through all the condolences for her loss even as she spent her days with Arthur. There were messages from her friends, and Arthur's priestess, and the staff at the hospital in Rika Chorna. It hurt worst when Mr. Jakt called. Out of all the Danubians, he had been closest to Arthur. Samantha had little choice but to keep Arthur's real situation secret for a while; Arthur had so many tricky legal matters to work out first.

Samantha looked through the box that Katya had sent her. Katya could no longer be a friend but she had had the decency to pack up and return some of Samantha's personal items.

There were pictures in the box, photographs of her, Laura and Arthur, some photos of her friends from work, a couple pictures of her posing with the two kids of her first host family.

Criminal collar # 88634 was there too; she picked it up. With the latch pin removed it hung open in her hands. Looking at it made her shiver; she set it on the couch. At the bottom of the box was something wrapped in newspaper. She unfolded it carefully. Holding it in her hand, Samantha couldn't help but cry. The gray stone was roughly shaped like Idaho, with a shiny black trilobite fossil on one side.

She wasn't sad though, Samantha was grateful for her new life. Arthur had risked all to get himself free; and although he would never admit it, Samantha knew that he had waited because of her.

When her sentence was over and she was safely out of the country, he made his move. Arthur gambled and he won. All that deception and guile was considered dishonorable in a Danubian view, but it was still, she thought, a remarkable thing.

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Samantha still had a couple more Christmas gifts to wrap and one more suitcase to pack. She packed Arthur's bag for him; otherwise he would probably take off without packing any clothes at all, he rarely thought about practical things. She had just finished when the phone rang.

Samantha slung her hair to the side and picked up the receiver: "Hello... Oh, Hi... Yes ma'am, I'm doing fine... oh, I'm sorry ma'am," Samantha laughed nervously. "Um... Clara, it's just a habit, I guess... yeah, I'm packing right now ma'am... we should be ready to leave soon... oh, no ma'am, Arthur went to get the car serviced... Oh, I'll be sure to tell him... it will be good to see her again... okay ma'am; sorry... I keep doing that." Samantha forced another laugh. "Okay Clara, we'll see you then. Bye-bye."

Samantha breathed a sigh of relief to be off the phone with her mother-in-law. It had been a rough adjustment period transitioning from Danubian Criminal to free American. People didn't know what to think of her now. She was almost insanely polite and respectful; Samantha felt compelled to call everyone wearing clothes either sir or ma'am, and if people were standing in line, Samantha let everyone else go first before she walked through the door or spoke to the teller at the bank.

Samantha sat on the couch and went through her checklist again: their bags were packed, the presents were wrapped, the windows were locked and so on... there was nothing to do but wait. Ten minutes later she heard Arthur climbing the metal stairs, it was pouring down rain, a typical soggy Louisiana December. She met him at the door with a roll of paper towels in her hand; between Arthur and his nervous dog she used a lot of paper towels.

Arthur stepped inside but stayed on the rug, his hair was flat against his head; his shirt clung to his wiry frame.

Samantha put her hands out. "Don't move! You're soaking wet... just take off your clothes right there!"

"Are you propositioning me?" Arthur chuckled as he stripped off the tee shirt.

"I just wish I could teach you how to use an umbrella." Samantha put the soaked shirt in a clothesbasket and pointed to his pants. "Come on, come on... we gotta hurry, I've got your clothes laid out... everything's packed. Just hurry up!"

Ten minutes later they were on the road, Arthur drove north, heading toward the interstate. Samantha turned off the radio. "Your mom called just before you got home. I don't know; she always makes me a nervous wreck."

"Heck, don't be nervous; mom really likes you." Arthur grinned. "Except for the criminal record you're like the normal child she always wanted."

"Um..." Samantha said. "I guess that's a compliment, uh... you know, she wants us to go to church with her tonight. She said Tee's going to be there too."

"Really... hmm... I haven't been to her church in a long time" Arthur shrugged. "Well, I guess I do owe her one. Did she um... happen to mention the Christmas play in 1983? I think she's still a little touchy about it; just about every year she'd tell me and Tee how we ruined that play and embarrassed her in front of everyone."

"No, didn't say anything... what did you do?"

"See when I was growing up," Arthur began. "My dad wasn't all that religious, and that really annoyed mom. She'd say that 'at least her kids weren't going to grow up like heathens!' So every Sunday she made sure that me and my sister went to church..."

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It was time for the annual Christmas pageant at the Plainsboro Methodist Church. A nine-year-old Tee was dressed as the Virgin Mary with a swaddled baby doll in her lap; Arthur was a thirteen-year-old wise man in a robe and long white beard. His mom and dad sat in the front row. They looked so proud of their kids... at first.

Arthur had been determined to make 1983 the last year that his mother forced him to act in a church play. That year, Arthur and Tee added a little intrigue to the birth of the Savior, changing the plot to make it into a sort of a who done it mystery.

The wise man backed up against the wall where he could reach the light switch, the stage went dark, the Virgin Mary screamed out dramatically. The lights came on again, the audience murmured and poor Joseph sat with his mouth open as a series of surprising developments occurred around the manger.

"What's going on here?" The wise man pointed dramatically. "The baby Jesus is... Gone!"

"Oh no!" Tee jumped up shaking her little fist at the audience. "Somebody stole my baby!"

The wise man stepped out to center stage. "Don't worry, Virgin Mary, I'll find your baby..." Then the wise man noticed something on the floor. "What's this... could it be a clue?"

Most of the audience sat in awkward silence as their mother scrambled up on stage to put a stop to it. Arthur's uncle slumped down in the second row nearly asphyxiating from inappropriate laughter.

'Teresa Anne Liggett!' Their mother whispered loud enough to make an echo. 'You go find the baby Jesus Right This Minute!'

Meanwhile, the wise man was slowly backing off stage; he badly wanted to go tend to the camels, guard the frankincense or... something.

"Arthur!" His mother trapped him in the corner, wagging a finger in his face; the lecture was too frantic to make out the words. At one point she glanced at the audience. Then, not wanting to make a scene, she grabbed hold of the Virgin Mary's arm and the wise man's ear and dragged them both back stage.

After a very tense five-minute absence, the wise man shuffled back on stage again; his face was bright red and he kept his eyes on the floor. The Virgin Mary followed him, sniffling, with tears running down her face; she carried the baby Jesus upside down by a leg.

Virtually everyone in the church heard her mother whisper from offstage: "You're dragging Jesus... you hold him right!" Tee sat in her chair, put the doll in her lap and cried.

Then the play restarted. The first wise man gave gold, the second gave myrrh, and then it was time for Arthur to do his line. He started to step forward and present his gift to the Savior but there was a problem. His gift was gone.

He didn't see his jar of Frankincense anywhere but he did see his mother glaring at him from just off stage. Arthur felt everyone in the audience looking at him, expecting him to give a gift to Jesus. He slipped a hand inside his robe to see if there was something in his pocket. Arthur walked out to center stage and knelt down in front of Joseph and Mary.

"From the Far East I brought this... um" Arthur put out his hands and cringed. "This gift of... um grape flavored Nerds... for the Savior to enjoy."

There was more inappropriate laughter from the audience then. Tee was still mad at Arthur for getting her in trouble; she grabbed the box of Nerds and threw it at him but it flew over the wise man's head and into the audience. Tee sat there pouting with her arms crossed. At that point the minister's wife decided to cut their losses and close the curtains.

It was raining and cold that night so his father went out to warm up the car. Arthur and Tee wanted to get away from their mom so they went with him. They climbed in the backseat and waited. Their dad wasn't easy to read; it was really hard to tell when he was angry.

He got the heater going, turned on the defrost and adjusted the rear view mirror. "So Arthur," his father said. "I don't recall reading anything in the New Testament about grape flavored Nerds."

"Yeah," Arthur admitted, "it was kind of a surprise for me too."

His dad smiled slightly as his mother reached the car. She was already in mid-sentence: "...been so humiliated in ALL MY LIFE!"

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"So..." Arthur said as he finished his flashback. "That was the last church play I was ever in. Heck that was... um almost thirteen years ago." He decided to top off his gas tank before taking the interstate; there was a Shell station ahead.

"Well," Samantha said. "Maybe your mom will have her revenge."

"Huh?" Arthur concentrated on turned left into the parking lot.

"You know, like... poetic justice. She could watch you raise a kid that's just as much trouble as you were."

Arthur's smile faded. "You don't... um... you... uh..."

Samantha nodded and smiled mischievously.

Arthur pressed the brake to avoid a pedestrian homicide. Arthur yelled out: "Woohoo!" And then he reached over to kiss Samantha enthusiastically on the cheek and nose as she squirmed and people watched.

Arthur threw open the door. "Hey... uh alright; hold on! I'll got get some stuff to celebrate. Want some wine?"

Samantha said: "I'm pregnant; I can't drink alcohol."

"Really? I did not know that. Twinkies, how bout some juice?"

Arthur took off briefly then he thought of something and stuck his head back in the truck. "Hey, why don't we name her Zelda?"

"Zelda," Samantha laughed. "We don't even know that it's a girl! And no, we're not naming our firstborn after a videogame!"

Arthur took a sharp breath: "Oh man, we're gonna have to take care of a baby; do you know anything about that?" Arthur turned to examine the convenience store. "Hmm... maybe they have some books or something."

"Arthur, I'm not using a parenting guide from a gas station."

Arthur continued unabated: "And then, just think... you're gonna have to teach her how to walk and talk and read and do stuff and then later on you'll have to give her the talk about boys and sex and... and oh man... then you'll have to tell her about how her parents used to be convicted criminals and..."

Samantha interrupted: "I have to tell her?"

"Well sure," Arthur said. "You don't want to keep secrets from poor little Zelda do you?"

Samantha shook her head. "We're not naming her Zelda."

Arthur filled up the tank of his white Ford Bronco. He had bought it for just eight hundred dollars since it had been wrecked by its previous owner. It had a replacement blue driver side door and fender; four new tires, and a decent motor. It was good enough for a young couple restarting their lives again in America.

Arthur paid for the fuel and bought some snacks for the trip: spicy smelly beef jerky for him and a pack of Twinkies and apple juice for Samantha. He put his wipers on high and turned north toward I-10. Samantha found a song she liked on the radio and cranked up the volume. Singing loudly, she asked that most important of all funk-related questions:

"Won't- you- take- me- to... Funkytown?"

"Won't- you- take- me- to... Funkytown?"

Such a silly question; Arthur thought. What right-minded twenty-seven year old escaped fugitive spy wouldn't want to go to Funkytown?