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Her friends chattered encouragement as she moved and posed. ‘Go, Simi, move it. Wow, what a body. Bend over and shake ’em…..’ In the corner of the deck was the tripod video camera continuing its video documentary of the photo shoot. Simone split her time and energy alternately posing for the still photos and camming for the video documentary. The shoot went on for an hour. Afterwards, Simone and the student group jumped in the pool au naturel and spent more time splashing, playing and dunking each other. The cameramen broke down the temporary studio slowly but one distracted cameraman continued video documenting the water show. As dusk approached, the games ended and the students headed off to dinner, studies and exercise. Afterwards, Simone hurried to the coaching suite. Ned had promised to critique her posing performance and offer tips for future photo shoots. The coaching tune-up room status enunciator was green so she entered quickly and spent time in the bathroom re-fixing her. She crashed through the front door, and staggered to Jean weeping and screaming curses on the evil thug that was beating her Mistress. By the time Jean had calmed Edmee down enough to tell him the sad story, Maeve, Belle and the others had gathered around the distraught woman.Upon hearing the story, they rushed out of the store as one, only to be confronted by Ace Mercer. He was covered in Madame Dupuis' blood, standing threateningly in the snow-covered street with nine of his men."That foreign bitch kilt my brother, and I aim to get some of mine back! Now give her to me or we'll open fire!" I warn you. If you try anything, you will die!" said Shaylee."Ha, ha, ha, ha! You people think you can win against us? We out number you! Those boys of your'n ain't no threat to us. Ha, ha, ha, ha!" Be that as it may, if you or anyone of your men makes a move, I will kill you first, Mercer."The coldness of Shaylee's voice gave Mercer pause. He looked closer at Shaylee.He then asked, "You the one.
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For about fifteen seconds, it was huge drops falling and then it was solid sheets of water and any creature with any sense had moved up into the trees and caves to wait out the torrents.There we were. A middle-aged advertising executive and his eleven-year-old daughter, armed with a catalogue-ordered Orvis two-man, three-season tent and a couple of flashlights. I was in heaven. We sat in our tent and listened to the rain beat on the nylon. My father told me stories about his grandfather's adventures as lobster fisherman. For a night, I was happy.The next day, back home, I was clean and warm and in bed, still hearing the patter of rain in my ears and ready to drift off imagining the feel of the ground under my shoulders, when my father came to tuck me in. He had a book in his hands."Dani. This is for you. My father gave it to me when I was a bit older than you are now. Keep it with you. Read it, and understand it, and let it guide you."I turned it over and over in my hands and traced.

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