An alpine holiday

A European tour

Chapter 24 An alpine holiday

They sat in an open air cafe in Denkmalstrasse, in Lucerne, across from the monument of the dying lion.

Susan looked fresh as a rose. Bob carried sleep bags under his eyes and looked distinguished on account of it. Charles had come to keep a walrus mustache.

There was a slight breeze in the air that carried the perfumes of the tourists at the site mixed with cheese from the cafes. It redefined the experience of the day and produced an effect that awakened the mahimorata.

Susan looked relaxed. She had finished the curriculum, with a complete satisfaction of the results and had come into a picture of confidence about herself.

“Just a little slow,” she said, in answering Charles about working in Europe. “ I have to practice a culture of waiting for others to say it first.”

“How's TMNT?”

“They need to update their work, which I think they are currently doing. They need to make the suggestion that Shredder will, in time to come, be a integral member of the family and unite with him the qualities of passion and reason. The Hyacinth-Kaliama relation from the early Scythian experience is today coming back into coalition with each other.”

Bob was in stream of platitudes since they met the day before. “People say Washington is about money politics. The truth of that is more significant than most people realize. We need to combine the studies of economics and anthropology to create a new discipline and the sooner somebody does that the better.”

“The French police got in touch with me to profile a killer,” Susan suddenly blurted out. “Somebody has been killing adult men by cutting off their penises. So I did, and they caught her within the week!” she exclaimed.

They were joined in later by an Algerian gentleman that Susan had been seeing. He introduced himself as Alkorda. He had a smooth spotless complexion, while his clean shaven cheeks carried a shade of subtle green. He sat with a straight back and rested his right arm on the table.

“The police in Paris are very efficient,” he spoke with a slight French accent,”Susan was incredible, just knew right off what the killer must have felt about men.”

“A serial killer?” Bob suddenly lighted up.

Susan nodded.

“I went back and shot the bear,” he answered as if in response.

“In Crow's pass?” Charles asked in a tone of the incredulous.

This produced a laughter in Bob. “Got the sucker,” he said, his voice almost a whisper” right between the eyes.”

The tourists buses kept arriving and after a visit to the monument of the dying lion, they came around to the cafes across the street. The place was getting filled up.

They paid for their drinks and took a walk along the scenic route.

Susan announced that she was going to take some time off and tour Europe on a motorbike. “It's starting to feel like a Delaware heaven again,” she complained. Alkorda was apparently not going along.

“I have to attend to my father's business in Paris,”he moaned.

“How's Clark doing,” Charles asked Bob. Charles had worked out an invitation for Clark to one of the President's parties through Bob.

“He's cool,” Bob replied. “A party animal. Did you know that he had to marry a Sikh because his brinjal reminded his American girlfriends of Mount Rushmore?” he asked.

Charles raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“His brother-in-law in Malaysia reflected on it once, purely as a matter of reputation,” he affirmed.

“So what's the next research study?” Susan called from the front.

“The relation of Vampires to archetypical behaviors and the impact on human body immunization,” Charles offered tentatively.

They walked past the river in Lucerne, as it flowed through the town, carrying the load of the past winter from the mountain areas. All around them, the sights of an ancient fairyland greeted them like a fossilized celebration of life.

Alkorda suggested later at lunch that Susan was indeed fortunate to have such good friends.

“She has to be on the move all the time,” he told Charles and Bob.

“Its about a mystery man I think I might meet,” she said in response to Alkorda's apparent exhortations. “I have this strange fascination about him and I can't take it out of my mind.”

“I might be going back to the wife,” Charles suggested, to Susan's inquiry. “See if I can make it work this time.”

“Married to my job,” said Bob, when asked, “ she's like an aphrodisiac of power.”

Later, in one of the souvenir shops, Charles inquired of Susan about the road trip she was taking.

She passed her hand over her brows and spoke with eyes that were fixed on the spot.

“It was the police case.....all those pictures.....the mind of the killer.....I think I saw something....”she trailed off.

Charles stood next to her and held her shoulders with his hands, but didn't say anything.

“Its my father isn't it?” she asked, but saw from Charles's expression that he already knew. The father is always in the traditional role of the Pollyanna.

Charles reflected on the way things had turned out. Their ideal and enthusiasm for living was intact since they had last been together. It seemed likely that it may stay that way for some time. The thin mountain air, on the other hand, produced a quick response of excitation, at the suggestion of haste.

Reviews

[patricia]

i had forgotten what a mahimorata was from the previous chapter (having only just learned of it) i think there was a little joke going on there, that unfortunately my ignorance deprived me from.
poor old bear!
liked how all this took shape. Amazing stuff. Thanks.