The door, the window. There was nothing else to do.As a girl, Kristin had gone with her mother and father to see the Banames in the large Namitan city...square. The traveling entertainers had on display fire eaters, exotic dancing girls, jugglers, and flying acrobats, to the delight of all. Also with them were any number of fantastic animals brought from above the waves, in all manner of colors, shapes, and sizes: tropical birds and sleek jungle cats, majestic horses and unicorns, playful satsi. From the pack where she carried her belongings, there was a noise. She remembered the noise from when Sister Mary Frances was adjusting the device in her head. It was the sound of the control pad. Maura tried not to panic. She walked over to one side of the corridor, and took a seat at a vacant bench. From her pack, she fished out the thin black control pad.The black screen had been blank since the convent, but now it was alive. Maura hadn't tried to activate the pad herself, for fear of. The bathroom was still located in a separate building out back, but it beat the heck out of the typical outhouse.Molly’s outbuilding had two separate rooms with English porcelain commodes in them and a room with a big porcelain coated cast iron bathtub. Water came from a two hundred gallon tank set on stilts about twenty feet in the air. A windmill ran the pump that lifted the water out of the well up to the tank. Gravity supplied the water to the plumbing fixtures. Another innovation Dean had. Did she feel the same? Was it possible after discoveringand even embracing the feminine as she had? All she had as a guide wereher own perceptions and feelings. The love that had been evident as Karasupported and guided. Put up with the no doubt painful depressive moodsand actions, or perhaps, lack of action. Who could claim the high moralground in such an exchange. "Kara you are the 'one' for me, you always have been. But you pushedagainst that to the point of breaking. I honestly don't know.
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