I walked into the Blue Cactus and felt the welcome immediately. Nobody yelled my name as if I was Norm on "Cheers", but at the same time I didn't feel like a stranger in a place where I actually was one. It would have been a bit much to ask for them to call me Norm anyway, my name is Jen.

I made my way around the long L-shaped bar and neared the dance floor. The throbbing beat set up a corresponding rhythm inside my chest, almost as if my heartbeat wanted to match the pulse of the music. The place was crowded but I found a seat at the end of the bar and waited for the attractive brunette bartender to make her way around to me.

"What's yours?" she asked with an upward movement of her head.

"Jack and diet," I replied just as simply.

"Don't think I've seen you in here before," she said conversationally as she picked up the empty glasses from the two women sitting next to me.

"You haven't," I replied. "I just moved to this side of town after becoming suddenly single." She poured my drink and placed it on a napkin in front of me.

"That's a story I hear all too often," the bartender said. "This is a good place to come though if you're looking for one of the other fish in the sea."

I took a deep drink of my cocktail and felt the smooth fire slide its way down. I nodded in appreciation for the well-poured drink and the bartender moved down the line of other customers at the bar. It was a very thirsty club and she worked quickly.

I turned slightly on my barstool and looked around the club. Women moved together sensuously on the dance floor, played pool at the four tables in the back and gathered around small tables talking into each other's ears due to the volume of the music. At one time it would have been the kind of place Carly and I might have frequented. In the old days?last month.

Carly and I had been pretty darn happy as far as I could tell. We had been living together almost two years after dating for a year. We had a huge amount in common. Carly was a real estate agent and I had my legal practice specializing in estate law. We both loved movies, theater and going out dancing and clubbing. We saved every Sunday as a day that we devoted to each other. We had an occasional disagreement but they were never serious and never long. Even more important, we were in love. I know that because we both said it. We merged our households and incomes and lives with every intention of doing the death-til-us-part thing, I thought.

Then came the snake in the grass, the fox in the henhouse and the weasel up my pant leg. Okay, maybe not so much the last one, but definitely the first two. Come into the Continental Army Headquarters, Benedict Arnold! I suppose I should explain, though I bet you can sort of figure it out.

**********

Four months ago Carly asked me to go with her to an art gallery show. The featured artist was supposed to be a very promising lesbian painter who was showing work in both oil and watercolors. Carly and I had decided a long time ago that because we were fortunate enough to be comfortable in our livelihoods that we would support other gay women in their endeavors when we could. Little did I know that I would be supporting one particular gay woman all the way to the bank.

We wandered around the exhibition admiring the paintings. I'm not much for modern art, I tend to like a cow to look like a cow if you know what I mean, but I did like the colors. I thought the colors on one of the paintings might match the carpet in my office so I suggested to Carly that we make the purchase. The seven hundred dollar price tag for an office accessory seemed a little steep, but Carly was happy we were making the effort. She smiled at me and that sealed the deal.

The artist herself came over at the announcement of a sale. I would come to find out Pearl Lathrop could always smell a buck. Anyway, she came over, all butch and artsy in a paint spattered t-shirt and torn Levi's. She seemed a little on the phony side but I put it down to that artist's temperament you hear so much about. Carly seemed to really like her and I liked Carly so the matter was settled. Pearl became a friend of "ours".

Two months after meeting Pearl, we were all out at a club. We were having a few drinks and just talking. Well, Pearl was talking, regaling us with her dreams of owning her own gallery where she could host the cream of the gay art world. Carly had been helping her locate the perfect property for the gallery and they had finally found it. Now all Pearl needed was five thousand dollars for the first month's rent and a "few" renovations. That sucking sound you're hearing was the sound of my bank account dwindling by five large.

Now the next part is a little difficult for me to tell even now. I suspect you know what I'm going to say. Pearl monopolized more and more Carly's time, pleading for help with workmen and decorators. When Carly missed one of our Sundays together, I knew I was developing a healthy dislike for a certain artist.

Then the day came that will forever be known in my heart as the Second Pearl Harbor. I'd had a long day at the office and was dragging my tail home. I was grateful to see the lights on in our apartment; I needed the company of the woman I loved. I slipped the key into the lock, opened the door and that was the last normal moment I've had up to this moment.

Carly was there, one last bag at her feet. All of her other things were already gone. She announced she was leaving me and moving in with Pearl. She also announced she had taken half of our joint account though she had only worked part time for the previous two years and had contributed far less than half. She was letting me keep our goldfish and was sorry if I was hurt but hoped one day I would find the true love of my life the way she had. Funny thing was, even as she left me, I still thought I had found her.

I moved out of the apartment we had shared. I threw myself into my work. I tried to be a good mom to the goldfish. I was uncertain of most things in my existence, but I knew one thing for sure. Somebody was going to pay for stealing the happiness I once had. Somebody was going to answer for busting up a relationship. Somebody was going to reap the consequences of their home wrecking, woman stealing and backstabbing behavior. That somebody was Pearl and Pearl had to die.

************

I like to think that I'm a relatively intelligent woman and Pearl's death shouldn't really be something ordinary or pedestrian. I needed some inspiration so I decided to not rush things. Rather I would take my time and come up with a fabulous scenario, something so brilliant that producers will knock each other down to come looking for the film rights. Now, who should play me in the movie? I'm thinking maybe Cate Blanchett or Ellen DeGeneres. Um, maybe Angelina Jolie as Carly and, in her feature film debut, Tonya Harding as Pearl.

Now all I need is a dynamite plan. Dynamite?

**********

It was past midnight as I stood just out of the light cast by the streetlamp, practically invisible to the law-abiding citizens of the quiet neighborhood. Word on the street was that Pearl would be leaving home soon and I needed to be there when she did. I had been given the task by the Family to see that she didn't turn stool pigeon when the Feds came calling. Gambling, extortion, drugs and making sure no one ever wins on the lottery scratch-off tickets?Pearl and the Family had been involved in them all. Now the Feds wanted to know what Pearl knew and she was ready to sing, but no one can be allowed to go against the Family.

My name is Vita Tortellini. I don't love my job as a hit-woman; I don't hate it. It is just a job to me. I'm a natural born killer and others steer clear of me if they know what's good for their health. They steer clear of me until my unique talents are needed and then they send for me. They had sent for me two days ago. Pearl had crossed the Family and Pearl had to die.

I pulled my fedora down a bit more and lit a cigarette, stepping further back into the shadows and guarding the glowing red tip from view. I stood with the patience of the Sphinx, watching for my quarry. Pearl had done wrong, of that there could be no question. She had been trusted with the most precious secrets of the Family and she was about to spill her guts about it. I couldn't let that happen.

The door to Pearl's home opened and I saw her look around carefully. I didn't worry, I am seen only when I wish to be seen. I watched as she carried a bag to her new silver BMW. It had been a present from the Family, but I wasn't sure if she would like the new accessory I had installed on it. Pearl tossed the bag into the car, slipped behind the wheel and turned over the ignition. It started smoothly and the engine purred like the high-performance machine it was. She backed out of her driveway and then turned to head up the street. It was at this point that I stepped into the light of the streetlamp.

I know Pearl saw me because the BMW hesitated just for a moment before speeding up dramatically and practically flying up the street. It hadn't gone half a block when the thirty pounds of dynamite I had wired to the accelerator blew up. I guess speed really does kill. I pulled the collar of my raincoat up and walked slowly away from the blazing wreck.

**********

The throbbing music of the Blue Cactus interjected itself into my thoughts. My little dream didn't bring Carly back to me, but in a perverse sense it made me feel better. I noticed I had finished my second Jack and diet and I figured that was my limit. I didn't need a DUI compounding my problems. I stopped my daydreaming, dropped a five on the bar for a tip and slowly weaved my way through the crowd and toward the front door. I was pleasantly surprised by a pinch to my backside as I went. I turned, but was surrounded by a sea of absorbed or innocent faces. I smiled, took my pinch and left.

The news on the car's radio came on as I started the engine. I let it idle and warm up as I listened to the day's events. There was strife abroad, economic worries on the home front and a boob up for re-election. Normally I enjoyed a nice boob, but this wasn't a nice one.

The National Weather Service said there was colder than average temperatures across much of the country, but a warm front was moving across Texas. The heater kicked out a steady stream of heat and I couldn't help but wish I were in Texas.

**********

The street was hot, dry and deserted as I strode down the middle of it. The only sounds were my spurs jingling with each measured step I took. A gust of wind stirred up a small dust devil and a tumbleweed rolled across in front of me. My gun arm tensed but didn't move toward my six-shooter. That action was going to be reserved for a no-good, four-flushing sidewinder by the name of Pecos Pearl.

Pearl and I had gotten into a little trouble a month earlier during what I thought was a friendly card game at the Pretty Kitty saloon. Pearl couldn't keep things on a friendly level though; I caught her with more than one ace up her sleeve. She laughed it off, saying it was all a big mistake and offered to pay everybody at the table back. I believed the lyin' polecat. That was my first mistake. I went over to the bar for a shot of sarsaparilla with my gal, Miss Carly. My back was to Pearl and that was my second and almost fatal mistake. She shot me in the back and took my gal. Now it was time for a reckoning. Pearl had to die.

I had sent word ahead. Pecos Pearl had left me to die, but she made one mistake herself; she didn't finish me off. The Enchilada Kid still breathed. I sent word for her to meet me at high noon in the middle of the street. It appeared she was late; maybe Pecos Pearl had forgotten to steal a watch.

Just as I had that thought, Pearl appeared from the General Store to the right and up ahead of me. I recognized the mercenary gleam in her eye. She didn't have the advantage that she had the day of the card game, but Pearl held an even bigger ace. Miss Carly was being held like a shield in front of her.

I stopped walking and waited for Pearl's next move. She obviously had her play all set in her mind.

"Hello, Kid," she smirked. "Long time, no see. Run into any good bullets lately?"

In answer I merely puffed on my cheroot and moved my poncho over my left shoulder. My gun was bare now, a signal Pearl couldn't mistake. She didn't.

"Oh, Kid, I'm disappointed. Here I had hoped we could talk over old times and now I see you've got only one thing on your mind." Pearl moved more to the center of the street. I watched her eyes and not her gun hand. The eyes will give the play away before the hand every time.

Miss Carly was trembling. She knew this would be to the finish. I couldn't look at her; couldn't see the look of fear on her face. Any distraction and it would be me they would be dragging up to Boot Hill in the morning.

Pearl was low. She was so low she would have to stand on a barrel to kiss a grasshopper's kneecaps. I knew she wouldn't meet me in a fair fight and that was my advantage. When Pearl reached the dead center of the street, she pushed Miss Carly in my direction and went for her shootin' iron. This was it; I could see it in her eyes.

My gun was out of the holster and I was fanning the trigger before she could fully slap leather. I couldn't take a chance that any of her stray bullets would hit Miss Carly.

Pearl's body jerked with the impact of the lead I threw. She never made another sound. I walked to Miss Carly and helped her to her feet. She hugged me around the neck and kept her eyes averted from the oozy mess that had been Pecos Pearl.

"Sorry you had to see that, Miss Carly, but Pearl had to die." I put my arm around her and walked my gal off the street.

*********

The car was overly warm when I snapped out of my reverie. I laughed at how easy it was to fantasize about Pearl's death. I never thought I was the bloodthirsty type. I adjusted the controls on the heater and left the parking lot of the Blue Cactus to start the drive home. When I got there, I walked into my lonely apartment and my solitary life. I dropped some goldfish flakes into the bowl and tapped on the glass to let them know I was home and saying 'hi'.

"Hello Grant, hello Lee. How are you guys? Life going swimmingly?" By their silence I could only assume it was. I watched them for a few minutes dash up to the surface, snag a flake and retreat to the depths of the bowl. It wasn't much entertainment, but it was something.

I walked over to the couch and flopped down, pushing my trainers off as I brought my legs up. I grabbed the remote from the coffee table and began my nightly ritual of channel surfing. The amount of paid programming on was astounding and I was hard pressed to find a channel with some entertainment. I landed on the classic TV channel and found myself hooked on an old sci-fi show. I remembered seeing "Lost in Space" more years before than I care to admit. It was certainly hokey now, but in its time I was just as lost in the program as the Robinson family was in space.

I leaned back and closed my eyes, remembering that great old show.

**********

Mars Base 4 had been a pleasant place to work ever since World Leader Sarah Michelle Gellar Jr. dedicated the new facility. It had been pleasant up until Commander Pearl 3-16 took over anyway. From the moment she arrived MB4 became a living hell. It wasn't bad enough that Commander Pearl 3-16 was my immediate boss at work; she felt it was necessary to meddle in my personal life as well. By meddle I mean stick her nose in every facet of my world.

It was constantly, "Jen 7-11, you need to take care of this project" or "Jen 7-11, you need to change this." No matter how hard I tried to please the woman, it was futile. My performance evaluations suffered as a result. I had never had a problem with any boss before and it took me a while to understand what was going on. It wasn't just me; Pearl 3-16 ruthlessly persecuted anyone she perceived as a threat to her position or a challenge to her absolute authority. If you were competent, proficient and had the potential for advancement, you were a target.

I endured the extra shifts on Far Side Patrol, peeling potatoes in the hydroponics hothouses and guard duty on the Inter-Planetary Transporter. I took it all without complaint, but the day the Commander made me clean the officer's latrine with my laser tooth cleaner, I knew Pearl 3-16 had to die.

Pearl 3-16 was shrewd and one devious femanoid. No, she wasn't human, but rather that breed of female genetically altered to have all emotions, feeling and compassion deleted. Her kind dated from that antiquated Earth era when men believed a woman couldn't be leader of any country because she might become irrational when she was menstruating. They created femanoids to eliminate that possibility. A much better scientific breakthrough came a decade later when we learned to control our bodily functions by the power of our minds. Now of course we only menstruate when we wish to be fertile and breed and we laugh at men who are irrational and have no hormones to blame. Anyway, Pearl 3-16 didn't badger and harass me because it was a feminine whim, she did it because it would further her in her coldly calculated goals.

The ranks of the Mars Service were rife with femanoids. I would strike a blow for the humans in our sector, but I needed to plan it carefully. Femanoids can sniff out a plot sometimes by just looking at you. Though I could tell no one, I thought I had come up with an idea.

Pearl 3-16 had assigned me to one of my interminable shifts guarding the Inter-Planetary Transporter. This would be roughly the old Earth equivalent of watching paint dry. Pearl 3-16 was scheduled to attend the Base Commander Summit at Moon Base 12 where Leader Gellar was in residence. Resplendent in all her military finery, she approached my transporter. I saluted smartly as she passed. In her usual fashion she denigrated me for a tiny scuff on my anti-gravitational boots and then boarded the transporter.

The Molecular Disassembler worked perfectly, just as I had programmed it to do. Pearl 3-16 flew through space at six times the speed of light only to be reassembled in orbit around Uranus. It seemed fitting for an asshole.

We really didn't need another satellite, but Pearl had to die.

**********

I woke up the next morning with some early morning religious program on the TV where a host exhorted me to "sow a seed of faith" and send in a few dollars to the ministry. I studied the man a few minutes and decided he looked too much like the guy who sold me my last car to be believed and I used the remote to click the set off.

I had fallen asleep on the couch and I was paying for it in spades by a massive crick in my neck. I stumbled into the bathroom and threw myself under a hot shower. It cleared the cobwebs from my mind and I emerged clean, warm and wrinkly. I pulled on my old, soft robe and reached outside the door to grab my newspaper. I brought it inside and sat at the kitchen table with a cup of tea and plate of toast.

I noticed a story about the new luxury liner Queen Elizabeth II. Fabulous ship. Fabulous name.

**********

"God's teeth!" my gracious monarch bellowed. "Is there no end to this vexation? Make no mistake, my lords, heads will roll!" Even the most stouthearted of Her Majesty's councilors quavered at the tone of Elizabeth in full voice. Today was a most decidedly vexatious day for my lady. In the full flower of England's glorious victory over the much-vaunted Armada of Spain, a thorn had appeared in that flower. It was a thorn that displeased Elizabeth greatly.

She continued in her ill humor. "Now, when all true English men and women should turn their eyes to their sovereign in gratitude and loyalty, yet another plot is uncovered in our midst. My lord Burghley, explain to the Privy Council what your spies have discovered."

The gray bearded Burghley rose to his feet at his queen's request. He gave a short bow in her direction then turned slightly, careful not to show his back to his liege, and addressed the assembled council.

"My lords, a great scourge has cast a dark shadow upon our beloved England. There are those who practice deceit and connive together like vermin in the deepest, dankest portion of the night. These are not the honorable ones who would stand up before us and declare themselves our enemies. No, these are the scurrilous ones who plot and plan against the Crown and look forward to the day when we are returned to the dark times before our mistress' enlightened reign." The Council was silent as each one remembered the persecution and fear under the rule of Bloody Mary.

"The greatest of these vile schemers is Pearl of Penwick. Yes, my lords, the woman our Queen elevated to the nobility has given aid, comfort and succor to Her Majesty's foes." He raised several parchments with wax seals still affixed. "She has been in contact with Phillip of Spain and Mary of Scotland. There is no subterfuge of which she is not part." He tossed the documents to the table.

"Her greatest transgression, however, is that she herself has become the author of a conspiracy to assassinate Her Majesty and install the pretender to the north on the throne." No further words were needed. Pearl of Penwick's own actions had decreed her fate.

Lord Burghley placed a paper in front of Elizabeth. "The warrant, Your Majesty."

The Queen took up a quill, dipped it in the inkwell and signed "Elizabeth R" to the bottom of the document. Heated wax was used to affix the seal and the judgment was made. Elizabeth of England stood and decreed, "With the evidence that lay before me, I can make no other decision."

Her Majesty looked in my direction. "We may have need of your services, loyal Jeneth." I bowed my head at her words. If I, the lowest subject of the realm, were to be needed, I would not fail my Queen.

I knew what must be done in preparation and I did not hesitate. I took my leave of the Queen and the Privy Council and made haste to carry out my commission. I spoke to carpenters, tailors and smiths, urging them to make haste with their assignments. All was prepared within a week. If called upon I would be ready.

I was not there when the trusted forces of the Crown captured Pearl of Penwick. Neither was I there when she was brought before the Queen herself and informed of the charges. When the judgment of the Tribunal was pronounced, the proceedings went un-witnessed by me. I did not see the Queen deliver her sentence. In due time though, the traitor was conveyed from the Tower, escorted to where I had made ready and was brought into my presence.

And there I chopped off her head. The Queen had pronounced that Pearl had to die.

**********

One fast stroke and I cleaved my buttered toast precisely in half. Don't worry, it was quick and clean, the toast never felt a thing. I enjoyed the sensation and proceeded to quarter the unfortunate slice. Remembering my mother's admonition to never play with my food, I placed my knife on the plate and proceeded to finish my tea. Grant and Lee seemed to be swimming with a relieved look on their faces. It could have been just my imagination of course; my mind seems to be a pretty fertile ground lately.

I decided I shouldn't waste the whole weekend and began to take care of the chores I had been putting off since I had moved into the apartment. By working steadily I completed my list in the early afternoon and headed off to the home improvement store to pick up a few new planters for a couple of root-bound houseplants I had. I stopped outside the store to buy a cold Pepsi from the machine there.

I fished in my pocket, pulled out some coins and dropped them in the slot. One coin kept dropping through and I figured out why when I took a good look at it. It was a Canadian quarter. Now how did I get one of those?

***********

Bank robbery, arson, murder and even littering were but a few of the crimes that had been perpetrated by the Villain of Quebec, Pearl LePuque. Those crimes were enough to cause the slippery criminal to be the highest priority of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police in this year of 1850. Until Pearl was apprehended, the good citizens of Canada would not be safe.

Up until this moment it had been unlikely that Pearl and I would ever cross paths. She had confined her pernicious behavior to the eastern provinces of my fair country. Being assigned out of the National Headquarters in Regina, my territory was far away from her sphere of activity. Now, however, Pearl had taken the American Horace Greeley's advice to "Go west" and she was currently operating in the provinces of Saskatchewan and Alberta with an occasional side trip up into the wilds of the Northwest Territories. That made the business of Pearl LePuque now my business.

Colonel Montgomery called me into his office. "Constable Jen, I have a new assignment for you. After your brilliant captures of Edmonton Edna, Vancouver Vicki and Saskatoon Sally, I knew you were the woman for this job. Jen, you are to bring in Pearl of Quebec."

"I will do my best, Colonel," I assured him. "I have heard some information regarding Pearl's whereabouts from an old trapper who came into the city to sell his pelts. He was a toothless, crazed old man but he described Pearl exactly. I have no reason to doubt his word; Pearl is hiding out somewhere near Calgary."

"Very good, Constable Jen. We are relying on you. Remember, the Royal Canadian Mounted Police always gets their woman." I left the Colonel's office, collected my gear and hitched my dog team to the sled. For some reason my team had not been as sharp as they had been in the past. I am a loyal Mountie though and I thought maybe after the first snow of the year, they would do better.

Fortunately for me, the first snow of the year arrived later that afternoon and we started making much better time. The pursuit of Pearl was on. I headed for the last place the trapper had seen her, just south of Calgary and seemingly on her way to that settlement. The snow covered plains made for fast sledding and in a few days I reached my goal.

Calgary wasn't much to look at, just a farming town and cattle center. The appearance of the place though had benefited by the generous snowfall. I mushed the team up to the closest boarding house and went in to arrange lodgings for the evening. The talk in the parlor attracted my attention immediately. I removed my heavy winter coat and gloves as I gravitated toward the voices.

"She up and walked in to the bank as bold as you please and stuck a gun right in old Smithfield's face. He nearly died of apoplexy and the rest of the town will surely follow when they learn most of the ranches' payrolls have been taken. She killed the bank guard and one innocent citizen that tried to stop her. That Pearl is surely no gem." The other boarders groaned at the man's words, but they had invigorated me. All thoughts of rest were cast aside as I braced myself to resume the hunt.

My crimson tunic and gold-striped black jodhpurs caught the eye of the residents and they crowded around me, eager to learn of my plans. I didn't have much to tell them, but they gave me valuable information. Pearl's supposed hideout was in an abandoned mine in the foothills of the mountains to the west of the town.

As I was leaving the boardinghouse, the proprietress approached me and said, "Just this once, officer, just this once?we wouldn't be unhappy if you did not bring your quarry back alive." The others joined in that sentiment and I thought about it for a long time as I headed back into the cold.

Tracking Pearl was easier than I anticipated. With the thieving of the payrolls, she had few friends in Alberta. I finally caught up with Pearl at the abandoned mine near the base of a mountain.

"Come out, Pearl LePuque, in the name of the Law, eh!" I called to her. A bullet whizzed by me in reply. She would not make this simple for me; I had not expected she would. I fired my weapon and rushed the mine. Bullets flew at me, one knocking my brown hat completely off my head. I liked that hat; a bullet hole would not look good.

In the dark of the mine I could just make out the form of Pearl of Quebec retreating deeper into the shaft. I gave myself a moment for my vision to adjust to the gloom before I followed.

"Give yourself up, Pearl!" I shouted. "Come with me peaceably and I will guarantee a fair trial for you!"

"And I guarantee you this!" she shouted back and fired more shots in my direction. After three shots I heard the unmistakable sound of a gun clicking on empty rounds. A muttered, "Damn!" and I knew I had guessed right. I decided to take this moment to press my attack. I plunged ahead, determined to capture the killer.

Pearl must have known I'd come after her. I heard her move even further back and then I heard the crash. The crash was accompanied by a scream and closely followed by a thud. There was complete silence after that. I felt around the walls and found an old lantern. I soon had enough light to venture forward with a measure of safety. I didn't have far to go.

There was a hole in the floor where rotted timbers had apparently given way into another shaft below. I could make out the still form of Pearl laying at the bottom, her neck twisted in an unnatural way. I suppose the fall killed the woman. I'd like to think it wasn't the nest of rattlesnakes she fell into.

As I exited the mine, I stopped for a moment. I hadn't intentionally wanted the woman-hunt to end this way, but Pearl caused a great deal of misery so I acknowledged maybe some part of me had. I only knew I had my duty, but maybe God knew Pearl had to die.

**********

Maybe I was cracking up; maybe that's what all these homicidal fantasies were about. Hurt and hatred can combine to make for some powerful emotions.

I spent the rest of the day repotting the plants and then cleaning up after myself. I had a few legal papers to read over in the evening and I decided to head down to the local coffee shop to get a hot mug of my favorite brew to accompany my work. It was late and the parking lot was empty except for one other car.

I stepped out of my vehicle and came face to face with Pearl Lathrop. Not a woman in a fantasy, but the real live version.

"Hello, Pearl," I said evenly though my mind was a whirl of activity. Empty parking lot, dark evening, a tire iron in my trunk. Motive, means and opportunity, I had it all.

"Hello, Jen," she said back. She held two large coffees in her hands and seemed a little uncomfortable meeting me.

"How's Carly? Is she happy?" I asked. I was stalling for time, sweeping the area for any flaws in my impromptu plan and deciding finally if my revenge was going to be worth a very stay in women's prison.

"I think she is? we are," Pearl replied. It was something about the tone of her voice that made the machinations of my mind stop completely. I looked at Pearl and knew what she said had struck a chord in me because it was the sound of truth. They were happy and no matter what I might think or feel, it was a fact.

"Have a good night, Pearl," I said. "Give Carly my lo?my regards." She nodded and got in her car. I watched as she drove away.

Yes, Pearl will have to die, probably in forty or fifty years I suppose. We all will. At that time, or even a hundred years hence, what difference will what happens right now make? Not much.

On second thought, maybe the love in this world goes on somehow. Wouldn't that be a lovely thing? Then any love we've had or given would be out there, making the world a little nicer place.

Now that's a daydream I can live with.

The End