Therapy for the TMoOD and Skeet Ulrich addicted fans

Fan Fiction

2008-03-26T15:29:00.000-07:00

Hi Lovely People,

I've had a few requests recently for my TMoOD fan fiction. If you think some of it comes from devastated Jericho Fans looking to reconnect with Ray, I mean Mr. Skeet Ulrich, the answer is you bet.

I'm having touble

I'm having trouble reading the drop down menus above to get it all re-added. So, I created a TMoOD fandom on a really great fan fic website. Since then, lgl has also added her excellent stories to the mix.

Looking for a little Singleton Farm back in your life? Or do you have a Ray & Livy story to share?

Please visit:

http://www.fanlib.com/fandom/Magic_of_Ordinary_Days__The/74gna?sort=OLDEST&propertyId=74gna

Let's keep Ray & Livy alive....

ScriptGirl
xo

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SKEET!

2008-01-20T09:15:00.000-08:00

On this, your 38th birthday, all of your fans celebrate with you, hoping you have a wonderful day!

Over the years, you've given the tmoodaddicts, skeetulrich.proboards.com, and capturingskeet.com participants ''screams'' of terror, laughter, tears and ''chills'' with your "miracle"-ulous performances. We are happily anticipating all of your future projects. Best of luck each and every day as you continue providing ''magic'' through your "craft'' and know that we wish you all the best!

A Skeet Birthday Present for US!!!

2008-01-08T06:14:00.000-08:00

Ulrich joins Sony's 'Armored' By Leslie Simmons

Jan 8, 2008

Hollywood reporter link

Skeet Ulrich is returning to the big screen in Sony's Screen Gems drama "Armored."Ulrich ("Jericho") will play Dobbs, a scruffy member of an armored truck company team who plans to empty a truck of its $10 million.

Matt Dillon and Columbus Short star. Laurence Fishburne, Jean Reno and Fred Ward co-star.Nimrod Antal ("Vacancy") is directing from a screenplay by James V. Simpson. Sam Raimi, Josh Donen and Dan Farah are producing, with Chris Lemos and Luis Guerrero co-executive producing. Filming began this week in Los Angeles.

Screen Gems president Clint Culpepper and senior vp production Eric Paquette will oversee for the studio.Ulrich has worked mostly on TV for the past few years, starring on CBS' "Jericho."

After being resurrected from cancellation following a fan campaign at the network, the series returns Feb. 12.His film credits include "As Good as It Gets," "Ride With the Devil" and "Scream." He's repped by the Gersh Agency and Brillstein Entertainment Partners.

From Tracy - a.k.a. Bombwatcher

2008-01-03T22:33:00.000-08:00

Ray sat at the table, elbows resting on the hard wood and head resting on his folded hands. He had never felt so helpless. Livy lay upstairs in his parent's bedroom, covered with blankets to try to ward away the chill that had taken over her body. The doctor was now with her.

Glancing to the window, Ray tried to take his mind away from his wife. The snow was falling slower now and the wind was far less fierce. He was thankful that he had been able to find the house and call for help. The rest had happened like a blur.

The hardest part now was waiting.

"Mr. Singleton?"

Ray immediately stood. "Yes, doctor?"

Doctor Williams placed his cloth bag on the kitchen table and looked to the anxious man. He had seen the look of fear mingled with hope before, and he always hated this part of the job the most; taking away the hope, and replacing it with sadness.

"Mr. Singleton ... you're wife is very lucky. Thank God you found her when you did."

Ray nodded slowly and cleared his throat before beginning with a whisper, "I've been doing plenty of that."

"Yes, I'm sure you have."

Taking a deep breath, the Doctor continued.

"Mr. Singleton, I'm afraid I have some very bad news."

Seeing the tears well in the young mans eyes, he motioned to the chair.

"You may want to sit down."

The two did so and the Doctor began relaying to Ray what he knew about Livy's condition.

"You're wife is very lucky to be alive. In fact, if you hadn't found her when you did, there is a very good chance that she would have died. The amount of poison that I found in her system was ... well, horrible."

Ray closed his eyes and placed his folded hands on the table again, his lips moving in silent prayer.

"I was able to remove the majority of the poison and give her several bouts of antiboiotics which will hopefully get rid of the rest on it's own."

Slowly, the young mans eyes opened and he looked to Doctor Williams.

"What about ... what about the baby." His voice was hoarse with emotion.

"I ... I'm afraid your wife ... lost the baby."

Ray gasped for a breath and looked away, unable to comprehend what was happening.

Why? How?

"I'm so very sorry for your loss, Mr. Singleton. But ... but at least your wife is alive."

Ray couldn't speak. He simply nodded and looked at his clasped hands, trying desperately to find a lie to the Doctor's words.

It couldn't be ... "I ... I want to see her."

Doctor Williams nodded.

"You may. Just ... try not to wake her. She is fighting the poison and she'll need all the rest she can get."

Ray stood slowly, unsure of the strength in his legs.

"Thank you, Doctor."

"Mr. Singleton, if anything happens - anything at all, I want you to call me. Immediately."

"Yes, Sir, I will."

Shaking the man's hand, Ray nodded and watched as the Doctor tipped his hat, grabbed his bag from the table and walked to the door.

After hearing it close, Ray turned and walked to the stairs, feeling as though nothing could penetrate the shock that stood around him like the air he breathed.

He wondered what Livy would do when he told her.

Wishing you...

2008-01-01T03:02:00.000-08:00

... a very Healthy & Happy New Year with love from ScriptGirl.

Just This Side of Tomorrow – Part 13

Hanks strains his eyes to see something ~ anything ~ that looks familiar in the road ahead. The lights of his vehicle are dimming by the moment as the thick, wet snow sticks like plaster of Paris. He growls in frustration, stopping for what feels like the tenth time already to scrape them and restore visibility.

***

“Hang on. Hang on, my girl. Don’t push yet. I said don’t push.”

“Mwaaaaaaa.” Livy shouts at her husband in frustration.

“It’s time. I can feel it. I know it is. It’s time.”

Ray pushes down on her leg, squeezing her knee with his hand, gently but firmly making his point.

“Olivia Dunn Singleton, I want you to listen to me now and listen good. I know you feel ready. But I can tell you from where I’m sitting here, it’s not time yet, my girl.

She scoffs in utter exasperation.

“What do you know?”

He rubbs her leg soothingly.

“I’ve been in this seat, in one way or another, every spring and fall since I was not much older than this little one. I know what I’m talking about. You have to just trust me now.”

“Mwaaaaaaaaa.”

***

“Hello?”

A roar of boisterous party-goers can be heard through the receiver. Danny holds it back from his ear.

“Hi. Where’s your dad?”

“Stewie, he’s with -”

“Can you hear me, boy?”

Dan sighs. Taking a long breath, he bellows from somewhere down deep in his diaphragm.

“They’re not here. They’re LOST.”

“I need you Dad to settle a – what – how’s that now?”

“I said they’re lost. Mama was – the baby started acting up and Doc said they should head into town. The snow started and they never made it. Uncle Hank’s out looking for them now.”

Stewie’s tone obviously had an affect on his fellow partygoers as things were suddenly coming through the phone line crystal clear. He shouts something at his friends who begin rallying in the background.

“We’re heading out from this end to comb the roads. We’ll find ‘em.”

Daniel thanks him, but it’s been so long now that he’s past being consolled.

***

“Mwwaaaaaa.”

“Names? How about some names? Let’s do that, again.”

Ray clutches the brim of his hat, pleased with this temporary distraction.

“Okay. Good, yes. Okay.” Livy blows air through her pursed lips. “Girl.”

“Priscilla?”

Livy shakes her head. “Too many S’s.”

“Constance?”

She shakes again. “Too – mature. More like your bridge partner than your baby.”

Ray laughs openly, welcoming this moment of much needed levity.

“Christina?”

“Too long. Chris-ti-na-sing-le-ton. That’s about two syllables past a mouthful.”

Ray sits on a highly varnished tree stump stool, wondering how long he can stretch out this game.

***

“Hey there.”

Daniel turns his face, forgetting his hood is up. Lowering the bulky fabric, he glances sideways at Ruth. She drives slowly alongside her young cousin.

“Where are you going?”

He thrusts his hands into his pea coat pockets.

“Going to find ‘em. Can’t wait around anymore.”

“Stewie’s out there with his buddies. They’ll find them. Now, hop in and we’ll head back to the farm.”

“No. Sorry but I’ve go to do this.”

“What if they try to phone? And Franklin’s probably worried sick by now.”

He shakes his head no.

“Besides, I really need to use the wc.”

He stops in his tracks. That was enough of that talk. He hops in and they head down the road.

The snow falls thicker than ever.

***

“Bridget?”

“Huhm.” Livy’s chin puckers slightly. “Not bad. You’re getting closer.”

“What are we looking for, here? I mean, what’s the benchmark?”

Livy sighs.

“Well, not too long. Not too modern. Not too precocious.”

“English, please.”

“Um, adorable but bratty about it.”

Ray nods, still playing along. The truth is that he would be happy with any name she picked. He could see it was important to her, but as he had once pointed out, there was a fellow working at the grain elevator named Thackmorton who was surviving just fine.

The humour of this was lost on his swollen, volatile wife and since that day he’d learned to let her take the helm on his issue.

He had only one demand.

Ray made it clear that he wanted the baby to have a fresh start with a name that was new to the family. Bearing a name that reminds all those who knew him of his brother’s passing had been an honour, but it was also his son’s cross to bear. Every time Danny dug into his creamed peas on toast, he saw his father give his head a shake. His brother had always hated them.

“Mwaaaaa. Rayyyy.”

Scooching the stool over beside the cot, Ray takes Livy’s hand in own.

***

“Shut up you idiots. What’s that? Is that a light?”

The loud chatter in the car ceases instantly as Stewie turns down the radio.

“Oh ~ you turn down the radio to see better and we’re the idiots?”

Laughter booms out from the back seat.

“I said SHUT IT. Do you guys hear that?”

All four windows are lowered and the passengers remain quiet, straining to hear. The heavy white snow cover muffles all sound.

Stewie pulls his foot off the brake slowly, picking up speed.

“Whoa, what’s that?” Derek’s bony finger points out from the back seat. Squinting, Stewie tries to see through the front window. A small light grows dimmer and dimmer, shrinking finally to nothing.

From what like the sky above, a tune can be heard faintly.

“Let me call you sweetheart, I’m in looooooove with youuuuuu.”

BAM.

The guys are slammed forward as Stewie’s truck hits something. Hard.

***

Ray shoves the logs around with an ancient looking andiron. They’re almost out of wood. A few sparks shoot up. He steps back, stomping out the two orange embers that land on the horsehair rug.

“What was that?”

“Sorry.”

“No, outside. I heard something.”

“It was me, honest. Uh, how about boys? Should we do boys now?”

“I need to push. PLEASE, is it time?”

Moving the lantern over closer, he holds her knees and leans in. His heart starts
pounding so hard. He’s sure she can hear it.

Livy starts whimpering quietly, but catches it in her throat.

“You’re doing fine, Ray. I’m sure you’re right. Let’s do boys now.”

Ray’s eyes well up. His wife is a miracle. Here she is with all this on her plate and yet she’s trying to make him feel better. Things must look pretty bleak.

He chews his cheek, ponderng their situation. The snow is too heavy for people to see smoke from the ground level chimney. He’d left the truck lights on and the engine running. Hopefully someone will spot the Beet Box on their way back from the pageant.

Ray glances out the small window at the snow. It seems like it will never end. He figures it must be after midnight by now. If worse comes to worse, the gas can is full. He decides he’ll slip out in a bit and top her up. They’ve got more that enough to keep it running until morning. By daylight they could make it to town.

He closes his eyes silently and prays it won’t come to that.

***

“Are you guys hurt?”

“Uggggg.”

“Derek? Everyone okay?”

“I’m fine. The others are okay I think. You?”

“Can’t see anything. Must have hit my head. I taste blood. Can you get out?”

“The door’s crushed in on my side. I can’t move.”

“Uggg. Krikey!”

“Mike?”

“Are you okay?”

“I’ll live.”

“Can you crawl to the front, pal?”

“I can do better than that.”

Mike opens the door and gets out.

“What the? – “

Ray grabs the side of the Stewie’s DeSoto, bracing himself. Mike comes around from the other side, almost colliding with Ray.

“How is she?”

“Stewie, you’re bleeding from the head!”

“I’m fine. How’s your wife?”

“Rayyyy – where are you?” Livy calls from the dugout.

Ray turns quickly to face the boys.

“Could be better. Now give us a few minutes and you can come inside.”

***

Hank barrels down the road at a decent clip. He’s been down here twice already but nothing – and the snow’s only getting worse.

He stops suddenly, snorting at his own stupidity. Of course! He’s coming from town. They’d be on the other side.

Pulling out again, he veers over across where the white line would be if he could see it in this snow. Struggling to see in front of his truck, he skids to a stop when a figure appears in the road ahead. Hank rolls down his window.

“Stewie? Mike? That you?”

***

“Mwwaaaa. Ray….oh, I can feel it. The baby’s coming. I can’t stop it. Can I push? Can I push?

Ray dries his freshly washed hands. Holding her knees, he sees the baby’s head crowning.

“It’s time. Okay, now PUSH.”

“Awwwwmwaaaaaa.”

***

“Derek, take my truck back to town and pick up Doc McCutcheon. Stewie, Mike, you come with me.”

Approaching the small door of the dugout, they hear Livy screaming. Hank lowers his chin into his coat collar.

“Let’s give it a minute or two.”

***

“Oh my Lord – we have a daughter. She’s a girl!”

Ray scoops her up and carries her over to her mother. Livy cries unabashedly as Ray places her in the fold of Livy’s arm.

“Look at her. Just look at her. Look what we did!”

Livy grabs Ray as he goes to stand. She pulls him close again.

“You are my hero, my best friend and the love of my life. And to have you for a father, well, this is just the luckiest little girl in the world.”

Ray kisses his wife and leans over, planting one on his daughter’s forehead too.

Standing, he turns towards the door. Just then a pounding comes from outside. Ray opens the door.

“Come on in and meet my new daughter.”

“How did all you boys find us? Stewie is that ~ are you bleeding?” Livy starts to sit up Ray motions to stop her.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

Hank, Stewie and Mike stand across the small room in a straight line. They each have their arms crossed tightly.

“What time is it?” Livy asks.

Mike looks at his watch.

“It’s just after two am.”

Ray chuckles comically.

“You boys look like the Three Stooges standing there. Get in here and see her.”

“Ray, its Christmas Eve.” She says to him.

Ray shrugs, looking at her for a hint.

“They’re our Three Wise Men.”

***

“Come in, come in! Happy New Year!”

Ray holds the door open for Martha. Inside, Danny collects coats, taking them upstairs to be spread out on his bed. Each time he steals a few moments to read another page of his Davey Crockett book.

Livy sits in the corner, her new baby swaddled in her arms. Rocking gently, she leans forward every now and then as guests approach to admire the new addition to the family.

Martha leans over to her sister-in-law.

“And so?”

Livy looks up at her.

“And so?”

“Does our little one have a name yet?”

Livy looks back down, adjusting the blankets. Ray steps up as people tune in for the answer.

“We’re taking our time. We want to get it right. It’s not as if she starts school tomorrow, folks.”

A few small bursts of laughter across the room make Ray feel momentarily foolish for his little outburst. Martha smiles knowingly at Livy, whose face beams back in appreciation. Conversations resume around the room as Ray approaches his sister.

“Truth is, we’re not making this any easier on her.”

Martha glances up at her brother, curious.

“How do you figure?”

“Singleton. It’s a bit of a clunker. Hard to pair up with anything, really.”

Livy looks up at Ray, somewhat surprised.

“Raymond Singleton. I will have you know that you, we rather, have one of
The most distinguished surnames in Otero County. Not only can Singletons be traced far back here, but I have found compelling evidence which shows that your people arrived to America in the mid sixteen hundreds, first settling in Virginia.”

Ray flips his wrists, displaying his open palms to his sister as if to say “I told you so.”

Livy stands, handing the baby to Martha. Turning to her husband, she takes his hand.

“Do you know what the name Singleton means? A farm in a burnt clearing. Back in old England someone had a fire and was then able to rise above that tragedy and make a farm. Renew life where it was destroyed. So, you see, I wasn’t having trouble with the name Singleton, I was trying to find a first name that would do it justice.”

Ray envelopes his wife in his arms. She tilts her head up, her chin resting on his chest. “And, I think I have.”

“You think you have what?”

She laughs, her eyebrows doing that confused little half frown.

“I think I’ve finally found a name.”

Ray tugs her gently into the kitchen. Martha follows, the baby in her arms. Danny’s gulping water down at the sink. He turns to face his family.

“What?”

“You mother thinks she’s found the right name.”

“What is it?”

“Beth.” Livy answers, her chin pointing slightly in punctuation.

Martha’s face registers polite surprise. Danny looks puzzled.

“You mean, for the Coronation? For Queen Elizabeth?”

Ray looks over at his wife in anticipation.

“No, Beth for the night she came into this world. That cold, scary, heart wrenching night.”

They all stare at her, waiting, hoping she’ll elaborate.

“Bethlehem. Beth as in Bethlehem.”

***

Livy rinses the bread and butter plates at the sink as Ray gently rocks Beth to sleep. He coos at her quietly, humming a tune under his breath.

“Hey, what every happened with the Metcalfes?”

“You mean you still want bananas? I’m shocked. I thought you’d had enough to last you the rest of your life.”

She pretends to swat him with the tea towel.

“No, didn’t you say he came to see Danny?”

“Oh.”

“Well?”

“He caught Sherry and Danny kissing in the shed behind the store.”

“Kissing?”

“Uh-huh.”

“He’s not even nine years old.”

“There’s more.”

“Okay.”

“They weren’t wearing their -”

“Their what?”

Ray clears his throat. Laying Beth gently in the bassinet, he walks over to Livy and places his hands on her shoulders. Turning her to him, he looks her square in the face.

“Their what?”

“They weren’t wearing their shoes.”

He breaks out in laughter. She swats him on the arm, relieved but still slightly frazzled. Wrapping her up in his arms, Ray kisses her fondly. Livy squeals, wriggling free of him and runs over to her daughter.

She gazes down at those pink little cheeks.

“I’ve been on this Boy Island since the day I got here, little one. And it sounds like things are about to get worse. I’m so glad you showed up when you did.”

Ray chuckles behind her as he picks up where she left off with the dishes.

Bending down, Livy scoops up her girl, unable to resist that sweet, sleepy face.

***

Merry Christmas Dear Friends!

2007-12-26T12:26:00.000-08:00

Part 12 – Just This side of Tomorrow - By SG

Ray’s rocking his body from foot to foot, nodding his head at the voice on the other end of the phone.

“Yes, I understand. We will.”

Franklin barks loudly out back.

Placing the receiver gently on the cradle, he turns to face Livy on the davenport where he’d carried her just moments ago.

“He says with the baby being early and all, he’d feel better if we headed into the office. Says he’s got a proper surgery there and everything he needs. He thinks we’ve got more than enough time.”

Livy looks down at the rug under foot, examining the scalloped edge. Franklin’s bark continues outside.

“Well, all right then, let’s get a move on.”

Danny removes his coat from the hook. Ray shakes his head at his son.

“But Dad, I want to come too …?”

Ray looks at his son sternly at first but then realizes.

“Just forget about that, now. You’re not being punished, here. You’ve got an important job to do for us.”

Dan’s face perks up. He’s being trusted once again.

“We need you to stay here, by the phone, so you can let people know what’s going on. I’ve tried your Aunt Ruth and Abby but no one’s around.

Danny nods his head, placing his coat back on the hook. He picks up his Mama’s instead and carries it over to her. Placing it on her lap, he leans in close. She bends slightly forward. There faces are just inches apart.

“If it gets real bad, just holler. That’s what I do when I jump my go-cart down the bluffs. Just let out a good one, Mama. It does the trick. For real. “

Livy laughs and hugs her son. Pulling him back so she can look at his face, she holds his shoulders.

“Don’t you worry, now. I’m going to be fine. Just fine.”

Ray points to the kitchen.

“Would you go out back and check on Franklin, son. Sounds like he might have found himself a rabbit or two.”

Danny nods, yanking his coat and sticking his feet into his galoshes.

“Son, I want you to keep trying your Aunts until you get a hold of someone.”

“Yes, Sir. But I bet they’re all at the Pageant.”

Ray and Livy lock eyes. Of course. The Pageant. How had the day gotten away from them like that? Danny was right. It’s December 23rd, the day before Christmas Eve. The Pageant would be in full swing back in town.

Turning towards Livy, Ray’s eyebrows go up in question.

“It’s all right. I can make it. I’m awake now.”

“I’ll get some blankets and we can lay you out in the back, nice and flat.”

Livy winces in a combination of regret and worry.

“The thing is, I lent the car to Abby to go pick up those remnants in La Junta.”

Ray’s face flashes annoyance at his wife’s unrelenting generosity, but only for a second.

“The Beet Box, it is.”

***

Ray glances above his strong hands on steering wheel, craning his neck to see the night sky.

“Snow’s coming.”

Livy lays her head back in the corner between the headrest and the window.

“So, what did he say exactly?”

“He said it wasn’t your water breaking. There would have been a lot more. He said a fitful sleep was the cause.”

Livy’s neck tightens in that way she gets when she’s doing some serious reasoning.

“He figures you – you were startle in your sleep – you know. He says it happens all the time.”

What Ray didn’t add was the part about the pains staying he same.

“Pull over. If he pains stay the same time apart for too long or slow down, pull over, Ray. That’ll mean it’s time to get little one out of her, for both their sakes.”

The snow starts dumping suddenly; flakes the size of crab apples, as though a huge white blanket was being draped over the front hood of the truck.

They drive on in silence, other than the occasional sound of Livy hissing air through her tightly gnashed teeth. Ray was sorry for her pain, but glad of its steady pace.

“You’re doing just fine, my girl. Don’t worry – we’ll be there soon.

***

“Hello?”

“Uncle Hank!”

“Danny m’boy. How are you?

“I’ve been calling there but no answer.”

Hank picks up on the slight panic in his voice.

“I got a touch of fever so I’m lyin’ low tonight. Just got up for some water.
What about you guys?”

“Mama and dad already left, but they’re not going to the Pageant.”
“Where are they going?”

“To Dr. McCutcheon’s office. Mama’s ready to let that baby out.”

Hank clears his throat, trying to hide his concern. The heavy snow started over an hour ago.

“When did they leave?”

“The thing is, it’s snowing pretty bad out here now.”

“Don’t you worry, Danny Boy. I’ll phone the doc’s office and see that they made it.”

After a few words between the two of them, Danny hangs up. He slumps down on the davenport, relieved that he wasn’t carrying this alone anymore.

***

“Are you all right?”

Livy’s mouth purses in deep concern. They had to pull over every few minutes so he could climb out and scrape off the windshield. At first he used his sleeve but once his hands grew numb it didn’t matter anyway. His hands look red and angry.

He chuckles at her concern.

“You’re a caution, Livy.”

Ray had been timing her contractions to the volume of snowfall on the glass. He’s worried now. The windshield was completely covered again and she hadn’t had another bout of the pains.

“The snow’s getting bad. I think we should stop.”

“What?” Livy seems panicked at idea of such a personal event happening in a strange place. Her face gives it all away.

“We know everyone on this stretch of road by name. Any one of them would be pleased to help us out. “

“But, I just…”

“There’s no time. We have to find somewhere.”

***

Danny saunters over to the Christmas tree, admiring the first few small packages placed underneath. He gets down on his knees and leans over the colourful bundles, trying to guess if they were for him. That was Mama’s trick – she never labelled them so there was no way to know.

Feeling selfish suddenly, he returns to his spot on the davenport and sits with his back very straight.

***

The windshield is fighting a losing battle. As their breathing grows heavier with each passing house, Ray rubs, keeping the steam away long enough to make out the sharp twists and bends in the road ahead. No lights on at the Garrity’s. Probably at the Pagean too, he thinks.

The Hollis place is next. They’re away; something about visiting family in Tacoma. He knows he could break the side window. Heck, he could have the glass replaced before they even made it back. They had no telephone, though. He wanted a place where he could call the Doc, have the man talk him through it if need be.

They keep plodding along, Livy’s glances growing wilder by the minute.

Perspiration drips into Ray’s eyes, stinging them and making him feel more and more lost as they pass each fencepost.

***

“Hello?”

“It’s Hank, son. Listen, they haven’t reached town yet. I’m going to head out and see
if I come across them pulled over somewhere along the way. Keep calling your Aunt Abby and try your Granddad at the church too.”

Danny lets out a whimper, but quickly slaps his hand over his mouth.

“Your Dad’s been out driving in much worse than this,” Hank lies.

After thanking him, Danny places the receiver back on the cradle.

Hank stands in his front room. As he hangs up the telephone, nothing but the lantern he's holding lights his way as he climbs the stairs to change out of his pyjamas.

The power went out just over eleven minutes ago.

***

“STOP!”

Ray’s foot goes to break peddle but he instinctively holds himself from stomping down, knowing such a hard stop on an icy road would surely send them into a fishtail spin with nowhere to end but the ditch.

Composing himself and stopping calmly, he turns to Livy. Alarm flashes on his face but just for a second. He waits.

“The dugout!”

He looks ahead, biting his cheek a moment. The snow is getting heavier. It would take all they’ve got just to get them up the next hill.

“It’s fine. Danny and I have done a lot of work in there. It’ll be fine.”

Ray looks dubious but her pleading face and the sky ahead show him there’s no other way.

Leaving the engine running he gets out and runs around to her side. Opening the door, he slides her gingerly off the seat and hoists her up into his arms. Planting each step deeply into the sticky snow he makes his way to the shallow front door.

“I’m all right. I can walk. Let me walk.”

Ray lowers his left arm until her feet are just inches from the ground. She pushes open the door and they walk in. Waddling right over to the corner, she stops a few times to brace herself on furniture. Striking the long minor’s match, she lights the kerosene lantern. Holding it out to Ray, the light reveals his awe.

“You did this? You and Danny did this?”

They had looked at an old photograph she found of Ray’s mother as a young married woman. In the background, a pencil drawing of a room which must surely be this one was visible, leaned on a small stack of books. Someone’s homework? A hobby? She would never know but she had realized the moment she saw it that the room in the drawing depicted life in this dugout home.

Danny had helped her recreate the room as it once was. It was going to be a surprise.

Ray pivots around the room, arms outstretched slightly.

“This is just how I remember it. This is how they had it. How did you do it? Livy, I’ve got a lump in my throat, here.”

Livy laughs. Bracing herself suddenly, she points to the cot in the corner.

“My lump takes precedent over yours, right now.”

Ray helps her to the bed. She lays down, so grateful for that fresh pillow. Her hand tightens around Ray’s wrist as another bout of pains engulfs her. She breaths her way through it.

As her grip on his slackens a little, Ray stands. Rubbing his arms, he looks around a bit more. A robust but neat stack of firewood sits right at the small hearth. He smiles at the thought of his son. And now they would be four.

“Ray?”

He turns, hearing the edge of panic in her voice. He raises his eyebrows.

“What are we going to do?”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he brushes her hair back from her face and gives her a kiss on the mouth. Looking deeply into her eyes, their faces only inches apart, he responds in almost a whisper.

“We’re going to do what we always do. We’re going to be here for each other.”

***

Skeet Sighting: Pole Position Raceway

2007-12-03T09:39:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was another fun filled day with Skeet, probably at a past time he truly enjoys, racing. He was at the Pole Position Raceway in Corona, California. Did any of you Skeet fans happen to go and see him there?

Here are a couple of pics from the event. He's got a new military cap...

source: moonlight-detective.com

Part Eleven

2007-11-24T23:06:00.000-08:00

Just This Side of Tomorrow by SG

***

“Oh Livy! I met your sister this morning – what lovely girl!”

Livy’s walk continues at the same pace, even though Mrs. Jarvis’ has slowed.

“Yes, she is, um, thank you.”

Livy adds a quick nod at the end afraid that her tone was not exactly convincing. Opening the car door, she slides into the passenger seat and slams it quickly. Huffing out a long sigh, she leans her head back and closes her eyes for a moment.

“Had ‘nuff?” Ray’s hand rubs her leg soothingly.

Livy nods quietly, keeping her eyes closed. He starts the ignition and they roll off down Main Street.

***

Danny meanders slowly up the hill, his hands stuffed in his pockets. He can still feel the burn of embarrassment radiating on the back of his neck. The sting of Mr. Metcalfe’s words, hissed at him through clenched teeth, are fresh in his mind too.

As he reaches the top of the small hill, Danny looks out over the land his father works so hard. He knows it’s all for him someday. Dad had never said in so many words but his patient coaching through any and all farm chores, no matter how small, let Danny know. This would all be his responsibility one day.

Sighing, he takes off his hat and looks down at the house below. Scratching his head, he places his hat back on. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he steels himself and starts forebodingly down the hill.

***

As Ray and Livy pull up out in front of the house, Daniel over hears them and scurries up the stairs to his room. He shuts his door quietly.

Ray holds the front door open for Livy. Sliding her coat off her shoulders, Ray hangs it carefully on the hook. Placing his hands on her shoulders her guides her into the living room. Turning her, he pushes until she slumps down onto the davenport.

Ray sits down beside her, stretching his arms out and placing his hands on his knees. She stares straight ahead, in a daze. They sit in silence for a few moments. Livy’s hand comes up to her cheek, resting their in an almost puzzled manner.

“I mean, she did say this was her calling, right?”

“Right.”

“So, I didn’t just dream it?”

“Nope.”

“I just... I mean… Abby’s always been a little pre-occupied, but this is…”

“Surprising?”

“To say the least.”

Ray’s glance indicates he’s not quite as caught off guard.

The telephone in the hall rings loudly, interrupting their conversation. Ray gets up, answering on the second ring.

“Hello?” He rolls his eyes in his wife’s direction.

“Yes. She was there all day. From Kresge. No, I didn’t pick it, I gave her 3 choices. Blue. Uh-huh. I don’t know, light blue? I’m not sure, Abby. I see. I don’t know about that. Yellow. Yes, it was pale. All right. Yes, I’m sure. No, she’s resting. I’d really rather not. She’s exhausted after the day she put in. Yes, I’ll tell her. Yes, Abby, I will. Yes, okay. Goodnight.

Livy’s busy picking green paint out of her fingers nails. Her brows pinch tightly in annoyance.

“She doesn’t like the green?”

Ray sighs deeply, frustrated for his wife.

“She says yellow is cheerful and more conducive to selling.”

Ray rolls his eyes again, his voice going up a few octaves in a fairly decent imitation of his sister-in-law.

“Oh, and besides, the yellow will be the perfect background for the new spring dresses, just in time for your Grand Opening.”

Livy’s palm slaps her forehead, exasperated.

“Come on, let’s get you upstairs.”

“What about supper?”

“I’ll make something. How about a grilled cheese?”

Livy’s stomach lurches. She looks up at him, giving him a small, hopeful smile.

“Did you get over to Metcalfe’s?”

Ray’s mouth forms a small frown.

“I did. He says he’s sorry. No bananas until Monday. What about an apple?”

“I’m not hungry, really.”

Ray marches her upstairs.

***

The slit of light coming from the hallway shrinks away as Ray tugs on the bedroom door.

“Get some rest, my girl.”

Livy murmurs back as darkness descends on the still, quiet sanctuary of their bedroom.

***

Ray meets Danny at the bottom of the stairs.

“Your Mama’s asleep. Let’s keep it down.”

Danny nods his head. Proceeding to the kitchen, Dan starts setting the table.

“Should I set a place for her?”

Ray bites his cheek for a moment, then nods his head.

“Better go ahead. Just encase she does come down. We don’t want her to think we forgot about her.”

Daniel nods, laying the plates down at each spot. Ray reaches into the breadbox and pulls six slices out of the bag.

“Grilled cheese?”

Ray nods, his eyes laughing. Danny was so easy to please sometimes. He rests his top of his son’s head. His small shoulders tense up. After a moment he looks up at his dad. His eyes are tormented.

Ray tries not to laugh. The boy is seven years old. How bad could whatever was troubling him actually be?

Ray pretends not to notice and goes back to his sandwich making. He would be out with it soon. Secrets for Danny were like hot potatoes – he couldn’t hold onto one for long.

Danny lets out a huge sigh behind him. Ray smiles in the corner, cutting the slices of cheese. Any second now…

“Dad?”

“Uh-huh.”

“When did you first love Mom?”

Ray’s head comes up and he catches a glimpse of himself in the reflection of the kitchen window. It’s the first time an older man has looked back.

“Dad?”

Ray clears his throat.

“Well, I guess I’m going to need you to go ahead and repeat that question, son.”

“When did you first love Mom?”

Ray turns to his son, wiping his hands on the tea towel a little more vigorously than normal.

“You mean when did I first feel like I loved your Mother?”

“No, you already told me that a hundred times. It was when you first met… I know…”

Ray laughs a little, but stops himself when he sees his son growing frustrated.

“No, I mean when did first show her?”

Ray’s throat closes slightly. He pulls on a kitchen chair, pointing for Daniel to sit.

“Show her what?”

“Dad, I need to tell you something.”

Ray’s hand white knuckles the back of the wooden chair.

“Well, spit it -

A sudden hammering at the front or causes them both to jump out of their skin. Ray’s eyebrows knit themselves together in a frustrated line.

“Who the - ?”

Stomping towards the front door, he turns to Danny.

“We’re not finished here, right?”

“No, Sir.”

Ray walks back to the door. Pushing open the screen, he looks out at Joshua Metcalfe with a sceptical smile.

“Well, its one thing to have the town plumber AND grocer come when you call him. It’s another thing entirely to have you show up on instinct. It seems I need you on both counts these days.”

Ray and the man share a friendly handshake.

“I don’t see any bananas for my very pregnant wife, so plummer it is. I expect we’ll be needing you soon for the powder room at the dress shop. Come on in.”

As Ray backs up, he nearly trips on Danny, wide eyed and tucked in closely beside him.

“Danny - what are you – I said we would continue our talk later.”

Danny’s feet stay planted in place.

Turning to close the door behind Joshua, Ray glances over at the man’s serious face.

“I think the boy had better hear what I have to say.”

***

Livy extends her arms up to the sky. Hooking the corner of the diaper to the clothesline with a wooden peg, she tugs on the bottom. Allowing her neck to relax, her head falls back. She closes her eyes as the warmth of the sun envelopes her face.

Reaching down for another wet diaper she feels a slight pinching in her side. Better take it easy, she thinks to herself. Humming along with Bing Crosby to Mountain Greenery from the radio on the other side of the open kitchen window, she slows her pace.

A crackling comes from the radio startling her as the familiar voice of William Shirer breaks the calm.

“We interrupt this musical event to bring you news from the Front - ”

Livy gasps. Collecting her laundry she decides to head back inside and find Ray, to tell him what she's just heard.

She stops, suddenly sensing that she’s not alone. Pivoting on one heal, spins around.

A man in a wrinkled, khaki military uniform stands just a fifty feet away from her. His face is full of rage.

Walter.

She drops the clothes pins from her hand and starts running. As she looks back, she sees Walter gaining on her. She clasps her hands under her round belly to absorb some of the impact of each pounding step.

“RAYYYYY.” She screams at the top of her lungs.

His long legs take one to every three of her small, waddling steps.

“RAYYYY” she continues screaming with all her breath.

Reaching the barn, she runs inside and grabs the large wooden door. Pushing behind it with all her might, she cries out as a sharp pain tears across her middle.

Walter stands before her, breathing heavily, his hands planted on the other side of the door.

“You promised me a coffee.”

“WHAT?”

“I SAID - You promised me a COFFEE.”

Backing up slowly, her heel thumps against a water bucket, tipping it over. She falls backwards, landing on her backside in a pile of soaking wet hay.

“RAYYYY.”

“Livy!!”

Livy looks up at Ray’s beaming face. He seems so pleased with himself.

“Where is he?”

“He’s right here, Livy Honey. He’s right here.”

Ray brings his hands from behind him and proudly shows her the biggest banana she has ever seen.

“Oh, I –“

“Livy!”

Livy squeezes her eyes closed.

“Wake up.” Ray says, more firmly now. Holding her hand, he shakes it lightly.

Livy opens her eyes. Ray and Danny are standing above her.

“It’s time to go, my girl.”

“Go where. Where are we going?”

“Your water broke.”

“No. Not yet.”

Livy’s eyes fall closed.

Ray chuckles, amused by how sleepy she is.

“Come on. Get up for me, now.”

A car door slams outside.

“Who’s that?” she moans.

“Josh Metcalfe.”

Livy’s eyes spring open.

“Did he find me some bananas?”

Ray chuckles for a moment.

“No, sorry. He was just here to talk.”

Livy props herself up on one elbow, awake now. She motions for Danny to pass her the glass of water on the nightstand.

“Talk about what?”

Ray’s eyes dart over to Danny, just for a second.

“That’s for another time. Right now we’ve got bigger fish to fry. Let’s GO.”

Livy laughs at his enthusiasm, trying to plant her feet on the floor. Another pain sears across her front.

“You’d better call Martha and Doc McCutcheon. I don’t think I’m going anywhere.”

***

Vintage Skeet Gallery Update: SS (98)

2007-11-08T11:33:00.001-08:00

Thanks to roro of the Singleton Forum >> I have added over 200 screen captures to the gallery from Skeet's 1998 movie Soldier's Sweetheart! Thank you and great job capturing skeet, roro! Here is a sneak peek.

You can see all the additions here >> If you haven't had a chance to see this movie, I highly recommend it! Skeet gives an outstanding performance.. but then when doesn't he?!

Hey! Nielsen

2007-10-31T16:27:00.000-07:00

Hey! Nielsen, an online social network site for a diverse range of pop
culture enthusiasts who are eager to make their voices heard to Nielsen clients
and other decision-makers in the entertainment industry.

"Hey! Nielsen gives lovers of pop culture an opportunity to sound off
online and to make their voice heard by decision-makers," said Karen Watson,
Senior Vice President of Communications at The Nielsen Company, and Executive
Sponsor of Hey! Nielsen. "If you're passionate about any aspect of the
entertainment world, you will find like-minded consumers on Hey! Nielsen. We
hope this will be a fun place to share opinions and discuss your favorite shows,
movies and music. And because we will be providing our clients with insights
from Hey! Nielsen members, joining the network is a way to let the entertainment
industry know what you think."
source: www.nielsenmedia.com
This will be a great way to get our opinions heard directly for Jericho.
Check these sites:
http://www.heynielsen.com/blog/
http://jerichomonster.blogspot.com/

Gallery Update: Jericho DVD Launch Party

2007-10-31T06:23:00.000-07:00

I have added 13 high quality pictures to the capturing skeet gallery from the Jericho first season DVD launch party back on October 2, 2007. Here is a sneak peek.

You can see all the additions here >> Please remember to keep clicking on the picture until it's full size or choose "original." Warning, they are super huge! When your heart skips a beat, don't forget I warned you! ;-)

TV Guide: Exclusive First Look! Jericho

2007-10-23T19:40:00.000-07:00

Next week's tv guide has a one page blurb on Jericho in their Top 10 Stories. I have scanned the page and added it to the capturing skeet gallery.

You can see the original size here « Just click on the scan until it is the size you want it to be!

From Tracy (a.k.a. Bombwatcher)

2007-10-22T18:53:00.000-07:00

Ray lifted his eyes to the inside of the barn. Everything was untouched by the storm that roared outside. Turning to look through a small crack in the wooden door, he searched for the house he knew was there, though it seemed as if the building had been completely oblitereated in the snow storm.

His shoulders rose and fell as he exhaled a deep sigh. He slowly stood, managing his weight against the door, then walked to the ladder. He would be able to watch the storm progress from the safety, and warmth of the hayloft.Slowly, he pulled himself onto the first rung, then the next, balancing his weight against the wooden frame. As he reached the top rung, he paused, glancing behind him. Again, he could have sworn he heard Franklin's bark, but it was so distant, so quiet, it was almost unheard.

"Silly dog," Ray muttered under his breath, fighting a smile at the thought of Franklin somewhere in the snow storm. He had no worries for the mutt because he had been in worse storms and come back alive and well.

He quickly pulled himself above the hayloft's wall, then stopped short. Livy's body was limp against the hay. When he whispered her name, she made no movement. "Livy?" He asked quietly, unsure of what to do. The first instinct that shot through him told him that he should be happy that she was not out in the snow storm, but the second held the most momentum. What in the world was she doing in the barn, in the hayloft, asleep?

"Livy?" He asked again, gently rubbing a hand over her loosened hair. It had been at the oddest times when he had noticed her beauty, and now as one of those times. His hand moved down, slowly, from her hair down to her neck, where he paused. A dull beating throbbed against his finger - though he wasn't sure if it was his own or hers. Hearing a loud gust of wind from the story outside, Ray tried to come up with a reasonable explenation for Livy's appearance.

Suddenly, his eyes jerked down to her leg. He had seen the slight redness before, but he hadn't questioned as to what it was. He was about to touch it, then quickly pulled his hand back. Even though Livy was his wife, he felt as if he were violating her by touching her leg. Pulling in a deep breath, he ignored the thought and touched the area. "Oh no," he whispered, lifting his finger to see a crimson stain. "No!"

When the pieces finally came together, the realization hit him like a swift punch to the chest. Hank had told him just the other day that a few rattlesnakes had been spotted around the area, but Ray hadn't even considered that they would seek shelter from the cold in his barn.
Ray's eyes slowly moved from her leg to her chest. The slow, yet steady rise and fall gave him a small amount of peace. He gently placed a hand on her forehead. She was burning with fever. His mind raced with questions. He couldn't leave her, yet he knew she needed a Doctor.
Running a hand through his hair then down to his jaw, he could feel the tears burning his eyes. He couldn't lose Livy - not yet.

Suddenly, he heard the door to the barn being banged with something. Was it his imagination? Glancing quickly to Livy, he stood and walked to the edge of the loft. The door began to open.

"Hey!" he called.

When the door opened fully, someone stepped in.

"Hank! Thank God!"

Hank looked around, then to the loft. "Ray! What in the world are you doing out here in the middle of a -"

"Hank, you have to help me!"

"What? What's wrong?"

"It's Livy," he said, motioning behind him. "I need to get her down from here."

Hank smiled as he crossed his muscled arms over his chest. "Ray, what in the world are you doing?"

"Hank ... I'm serious. She's up here and she's asleep. I don't know what's wrong." He neglected to share his fears about the snake with his brother-in-law because Hank knew just how serious that would be - and Ray didn't want to know. Not now, at least. "Please, hurry up and help me get her down."

Immediately, Hank grabbed the wooden rings of the ladder and pulled himself up. After jumping into the hayloft, he surveyed Livy for a few seconds, then turned to Ray.

"I need you to go in the house, and call Doctor Morten."

"But -"

"Now, Ray!"

Winter

2007-10-13T01:18:00.000-07:00

AUTHOR’S NOTE: This story follows the canon of some of my earlier stories, and is set in the first season, around episode 14. Think of it as a scene that might have happened had Heather not gone to New Bern. Johnston and April are still alive, although they don’t really figure much into the story. This is just another excuse to put Jake and Heather together -- and they have more than a few things to talk about.

SPECIAL THANKS: As with several of my other stories, I am indebted to my writing partner, Susan (mtnred), whom you can thank for the old oak nightstand and the wind howling and moaning like a banshee, among other things. Lovely descriptive details. My thanks also to Chesterkitty for serving as story editor, proofreader, and all-around advisor. Without their help and encouragement, you would not be reading this story.

DISCLAIMER: “Jericho” and all characters, trademarks, and storylines associated with the program are the intellectual property of Junction Entertainment, Fixed Mark Productions, CBS Paramount Television and/or CBS Studios, Inc. The following story is a work of fan fiction intended solely for the entertainment of the writer and a small circle of friends. No infringement of copyright is intended or should be implied. If anyone at CBS happens to read this, please permit me this brief sojourn in your sandbox. Thanks.

“WINTER”

“I found another blanket,” Jake called from downstairs.

Leaning out into the hallway, Heather watched him from the bedroom as he hustled up the stairs of the Green house and threw down his new discovery. “Three blankets and a comforter. That’s going to have to do.” He arranged the blankets and the comforter on the bed.

“It’s so cold,” Heather shivered in her flannel pajamas, watching her breath leave her like a silvery mist in the chilly air.

“Ten degrees outside,” said Jake. “The fire’s out downstairs. No more wood. It’s down to thirty in this house. Probably be in the twenties by morning.”

“They’re going to talk,” Heather said.

“Who?”

“Your parents.”

“They’re doing the same thing we are,” Jake told her. “So are Eric and April. And you know what those two have been through.”

“They’re married,” Heather countered.

Jake caught her look.

“Do you want to end up like Mr. Bentner?” he almost snapped at her.

Heather suddenly looked down. Jake wished he hadn’t brought it up.

“He lived pretty close to me,“ she said quietly. “I used to take food over to his house. He didn‘t have anybody. I should have checked on him -- “

“Don’t blame yourself,” Jake answered gently, wanting to kick himself for being unkind with her. “The temperature dropped pretty fast that night. We didn’t know. No one could have known…“

He paused, thinking of all the residents who had been lost. Twenty-three. Jimmy and Bill were on patrol tonight, packed into the last of the snug winter outfits BG Clothing had to offer, checking the homes of the elderly, the infirm, the housebound. It wouldn’t happen again. Not if they could help it.

“Anyway,” he continued, “unless you want to freeze to death…”

Heather looked at Jake, then looked at the bed, still uncertain.

Jake slowly rolled his eyes.

“Heather…we’ve been sleeping together, downstairs, on the couch, for over a month now. Mom has walked past us at least a dozen times. And she hasn’t said a word about it.”

“Downstairs,” Heather repeated, like the minister’s daughter that she was, trying to make a point.

“That’s been a good thing, right? The nightmares are gone?”

She nodded. She was grateful for that, but she had reservations.

“You’ve never spent the night with me…up here…in this room.”

Heather had forgotten. Jake cracked a smile.

“This used to be my room. Remember?”

He walked over to the still-hesitant girl, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Heather, you worry about the silliest things. Nobody’s going to talk about this. And I’m not going to try anything, if that‘s what you‘re worried about.”

I wish you would, Heather almost told him.

“Now, come on. Before it gets any colder.”

Jake tucked a towel under the door to keep out the cold air. The bedroom windows were tightly sealed with duct tape. He pulled the drapes. I’ve never cared much for the drapery, he decided.

They crawled under the covers. Heather blew out the candle on the old oak nightstand. Jake, foregoing pajamas, kept his robe on and gathered the girl to himself, both of them needing each other’s warmth.

Heather was still shivering. Jake turned her face upward to his, and stroked her cheeks gently with his thumbs, as if brushing away imaginary tears. He could hardly see her face in the sudden darkness, but he could feel the tension in her body.

“You all right?”

She gave him a half-nod that said yes and no at the same time. Jake felt it more than saw it, but he understood. Heather was worried.

“What if it doesn’t get any warmer, Jake? What if it stays like this? All those particulates that the bombs threw into the air -- it could change the climate for years…“

That’s so Heather, Jake thought. She’d been working with the local KSU extension on air quality and the long-term prospects for agriculture. Here we are in bed, and she’s talking about particulates. She probably knows the exact particulate count. He held back a smile.

“You read the news from the weather lab at Black Jack,” Jake told her. “Worst winter in decades. Well, your particulates” -- he fumbled a little with the word -- “are probably part of the reason. We’ve gotten through most of it. Just a few more cold nights.”

I wouldn’t mind just a few, Heather thought, feeling his arms around her, snuggling closer.

“It’s supposed to be warmer tomorrow,“ Jake continued. “By the time next winter comes around, we’ll have power from the windmills. At least for the equipment that isn’t fried.”

“From the EMP,” Heather answered, correctly.

Jake wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so he kept silent.

“What about the missiles?” she queried.

“You saw the missiles?” Jake asked, puzzled. He hadn’t seen her outside Bailey’s Tavern that night.

“I heard them. Felt them. The whole town shook.” Heather paused. “Do you know where they were headed?”

He shook his head. “They were ICBMs. They had to be headed for another country.’

“Maybe the country that bombed us,” Heather answered. “Do we know who that is?”

Jake didn’t know the answer, but several suspicions crossed his mind. China, he thought, mulling one of the likely candidates. We’ve heard from China three times. The newscast we saw at Bailey’s. The food drop. And then on the board at Black Jack. It can’t be a coincidence…

He pondered the words he had seen on the flyers stuffed in with the airdrop of supplies. Do Not Fight, China Is Your Friend? What the hell does that mean?

Jake decided not to share his thoughts with the girl lying next to him. She was troubled enough.

Heather took a deep, cold breath. Her own thoughts were frightening, almost too frightening to remember, yet too disturbing to leave unsaid. She gathered up her courage, searching for the words to describe the unthinkable.

“When the bomb went off, at Denver,” she finally said, “I was looking out of the windows of the school bus. I just stood there, staring at it. It looked like those old movies of the atomic tests we saw in high school -- so beautiful and so awful at the same time. I was so scared.”

She said it as though it had happened a moment ago. The memory was as clear as if it had.

Suddenly, the story came spilling out of her like water from a broken dam.

“Then the deer ran in front of the bus and everyone went flying, like little rag dolls. I was thrown against the seat in front of me, and then back down again. It hurt so much, I could hardly move. Mr. Miller -- the bus driver -- was slumped over the wheel, blood everywhere. I didn‘t know if he was dead or alive. I couldn’t help him. The children were screaming and crying. I couldn’t help them. I couldn’t even get up from my seat. I had to send them for help. The children…”

Putting the children at risk. It was unthinkable to her.

Heather remembered some TV show she’d seen before the bombs fell, forty kids left on their own in the desert, trying to rebuild a ghost town with minimal adult supervision, and all of the complaints and allegations that had followed. The very thought of it was alien to her. How could anyone do that? she wondered.

Her voice had begun to choke up. This conversation was starting to bother her. Jake decided to interrupt.

“I was on my way out of town, headed back to San Diego,” Jake said. “There was another car -- “ Let that go, Jake. He hadn’t told anyone about it, and Heather didn’t need to hear about any more death and horror.

“So you didn’t come back here to stay,” Heather suddenly realized.

“No. I shouldn’t be here at all. I just came back to talk with my dad, and visit my grandfather. I mean, my grandfather’s grave.” Let that go, too. She doesn’t have to hear about it. There have been enough dead people these past six months.

“I wasn’t sure what it was,” he added. “The bomb, I mean.” That’s a half-truth, Jake thought. I really didn’t want to know what it was -- didn’t want to believe that the human race had been stupid and arrogant enough to do such a thing…

“I knew exactly what it was,” Heather said nervously. “It was like…” Her voice trembled. “Like watching the rest of my life disappear. Like watching the world end.”

Jake brought her face up to his again and held it with both hands.

“The world didn’t end,” he reminded her. “The world we knew came to an end, I guess. Things changed. But we’re still here. We’re still alive. You and me, Mom and Dad, Eric and April, and just about everybody else in town. Your father, too.“

“I wonder where he is,” Heather said thoughtfully. A twinge of guilt nagged at her. I’ve been so caught up with Jake that I’ve barely thought about him.

“You know where he is,” Jake told her. “He’s probably at the church, trying to help the homeless people stay warm. They’ve still got a few kerosene heaters over there. Or maybe he’s at the Salvation Army, serving up hot soup.”

“Or digging graves,” she pondered. “He’s been doing that ever since the bombs fell. I haven’t seen him for weeks. Every time someone mentions him, they always say he’s out digging another hole. So many dead… When are people going to stop dying?”

“It happens to all of us,” said Jake, “sooner or later.”

That gave Heather pause. She hadn’t expected that response from the man beside her. Was Jake philosophical underneath that bad-boy exterior?

“Your father will be fine,” Jake reassured her. “He wouldn’t be out digging graves on a night like this. He’s staying warm, somewhere. And he’s done a good job making sure the rest of us take care of each other. I’m sure he knows how to take care of himself.”

“Not as much as he should,” Heather retorted. “He’s strong enough, but he works until he drops. And he won’t let me do a thing for him. God knows I’ve tried. Just for the church, and for other people.”

“You make it sound like he keeps you at arm’s length.”

She sighed.

“He does, sometimes.”

Jake was surprised by the way she said it -- in a wistful, sad tone.

Heather had stopped. She was wrestling with something old and deep, a pain that she had pushed aside time after time. The partial anonymity of the darkened bedroom gave her the courage to open her soul to someone else. To Jake.

Go ahead. Tell him.

“Jake, I was -- I was unexpected,” she said, trying to sound unconcerned, but failing miserably. “He and Mother…they didn’t plan on me. I changed their lives…”

I hope unexpected didn’t mean unwanted, Jake wondered, feeling a sudden empathy. He knew what it felt like to be unwanted.

“Don’t get me wrong,” she said. “They did everything they could for me. I knew they cared about me. But they didn’t get the life they wanted. They were going to be missionaries -- they were planning a trip to Uganda, putting all their paperwork in order, when Mother found out. Having a child made all of that…difficult. No. Impossible. Children can’t go into a war zone, and Father wouldn’t leave my mother behind.”

“So, they settled down in New Bern,” Jake said, knowing she’d grown up there.

“Yes,” she said. “And then Jennie came along…”

Her sister. Along with her mother, missing since the bombs. They’d been in L.A.

Jake felt the pain in her voice. Had anyone in L.A. survived? The map on the Chinese newscast looked like the bomb had hit San Diego. But the map at Black Jack --

He didn’t want to think about the fate of either city. Rubble. Still smoldering, perhaps. Chaos and anguish and lingering death. He quickly turned his attention back to Heather.

Jake wondered how many people had heard her tell her story. Ted? He didn’t want to think about him again. Just remembering his name, how he and Heather had looked at each other at Black Jack, made his gut ache. Forget Ted.

Emily, perhaps, he decided. If not, I bet I’m the only one who’s heard it. And I bet she thinks it’s all her fault.

“Now that my father’s getting older,” Heather said softly, as if to answer him, “I think he’s sorry he missed his opportunities.”

I wonder if he regrets his daughter along with it, Jake considered. That would have explained his behavior on the one occasion he’d seen the Reverend talk to Heather. The man had spoken to the girl as if she were his employee, not his daughter, and his tone had been sharp, harsh, or so it had seemed to Jake at the time. It had bothered him then. It bothered him now.

As difficult as Jake’s relationship had been with Johnston, he’d always known that his own father had loved him. The elder Green would never have used such a tone with his own son. Anger, irritation, disapproval, yes. Contempt – never.

He held the girl closer, as if he could make up for everything with his embrace. They heard a gust of wind press against the sealed bedroom windows. It howled and moaned like a banshee searching for a way into the snug house. The house creaked, but resisted the onslaught.

“It’s getting colder,” Heather said.

“That’s why we’re here,” Jake said matter-of-factly, pulling the bed covers a little higher and the shivering girl tightly to him.

“Jake, I don’t want to die,” Heather confessed. “Not like this, in the cold.”

“We’re not going to die,” Jake countered, “not as long as we stay together.”

They pressed against each other as the winter wind whipped against the windows, the sound rising fiendishly like the evil laughter of cold fingers.

* * * * * * * * * *

The night seemed to go on forever. It was too cold to sleep. The two tried to talk about other things, but the noise of the wind made it difficult to be heard. Eventually they gave up the effort, content to hold each other quietly -- not kissing or fondling, just basking in each other’s warmth.

After an hour or so, Heather developed a crick in her neck, and the only comfortable position she could find caused her to hide her face against Jake’s chest. She was surprised to feel his fingers gently cradling her head against him.

He’s trying to comfort me, she realized, almost happily. He’s not just Super Jake, running around town rescuing everyone he can like some action hero. He has…

Heather struggled for the right word.

Tenderness? Compassion?

Does he care for me? Or does he feel sorry for me?

The girl wrestled with the two possibilities.

Oh, Jake. I don’t want your pity. I don’t need that.

I want you to care. I need you to…

She cuddled up next to him, wanting to relax, but found that Jake’s body against hers was making her come alive. She felt his heart beating against her cheek. His bare legs, against hers in flannel, made her tingle from her feet straight up through her spine. The touch of his fingers on her head intensified the sensation. Heather had never felt quite this way with anyone before. It was strange territory, this wanting to be with a man. She could feel the pull like the draw of a magnet.

Heather laid her hand on his chest. She remembered the day she’d lent him her truck, Charlotte -- the day she’d admitted to Jake that she knew about him and Jonah Prowse -- and how, as she’d watched Jake drive away to negotiate with Jonah, and later as he’d left for Rogue River, she was afraid, terrified, of losing him. She hadn’t even won him yet.

I want him, she sighed to herself, and he must know that by now. How many months have I been making eyes at him? I’m so bad at this, flirting and trying to get his attention. Maybe it’s my upbringing. I’ll never be Emily. It comes so easily for her.

Heather sighed again.

She tried to close her eyes, but as she did, the memories began to haunt her once more. She saw old Joe Bentner, frozen to death, wrapped in a floral sheet, being carried to the Stevens funeral home by her father, Bill, and Jimmy.

It had happened twenty-three times. Twenty-three!

She didn’t want to think of the other victims. She’d known too many of them.

The tears started to roll down her face.

Poor Mr. Bentner. So many others…

Jake sensed Heather’s sudden restlessness, and before he could react, felt the hot wetness against his chest. He didn’t know why, and didn’t know what to do about it. He just held her and let her tears flow.

“I’m sorry,” she said after a while.

“Don’t be sorry,” he answered softly. “We’ve all been through a lot.”

“I keep thinking about Mr. Bentner,” she admitted, still feeling guilty. “Dying like that, all alone. If only I had…”

Heather trailed off, embarrassed, her tears starting all over again. She tried to wipe them away before Jake noticed, but she was too late. He brought his hand up to her face, feeling the dampness of her cheeks, and gave her a hint of his lopsided smile, hoping she could make it out in the dimness.

“Cry if you have to. Cry all you want,” he told her. “It’s nice to know some people still care about others in this crazy world.” So many people are thinking only of themselves, taking their selfishness to new heights -- he immediately thought of Dale Turner -- but not Heather, not my Heather.

My Heather.

The thought startled him.

He glanced into her eyes, as if he were discovering her for the first time, that fateful day on the stranded school bus. She returned his gaze.

If only you knew how I feel, thought Heather, looking up at him through her tears. I’ve showed you in every way I can. Can’t you see it? Don’t you know?

There was something in her look, her tears, her touch, that grabbed Jake’s heart. For once, it was as though he could read her mind.

“I mean,” he said, flustered, “if people really care about each other…”

He never finished the sentence.

Their eyes locked, barely able to see through the darkness, yet seeing each other’s souls.

Then, their lips…

Suddenly, the unrelenting coldness of the night began to melt away. And both of them found comfort, and warmth, and finally, the bliss of sleep.

* * * * * * * * * *

By the time the wind finally died down, the light was starting to creep under the drapery. Jake had been right. It was going to be warmer today, and even at this earliest of hours, Heather could feel a slight difference in the room temperature.

She’d thought Jake was going to make love to her, but he hadn’t. There’s too much on his mind, she decided. Both of our minds. There will be another time.

The thought of making love to Jake wasn’t frightening to her -- not any more. It had turned into an exciting expectation. The future, if there’s going to be one, she smiled to herself.

Heather let out a soft sigh, allowed herself to relax, and snuggled deeper into the sleeping Jake, wrapping her leg over his. His arms were still around her. Beneath his robe, she felt the strength of his muscles, the hardness of his chest. He made her feel safe, secure. She was protected.

All over Jericho, people are doing this tonight, she thought. Huddling together to stay warm. Just to stay warm.

The whole town, bedded down, save for the refugees and the homeless, and those who had no one in whom to seek warmth. Five thousand people, fighting the cold in the only way they could.

Heather thought of those who had headed west to build towns like Jericho in the early years of the nation, well over a century ago. She remembered the stories, and Emily talking about her lesson plans on American history at Jericho High.

How did they survive?

Then another thought:

If they survived, so can we.

Heather pulled Jake nearer to her and closed her eyes.

We are such small creatures in the face of a such a harsh world, she mused.

Maybe it’s up to us, she decided, to make sure the world isn’t quite so cold.

Capturing Skeet

2007-10-08T23:09:00.000-07:00

Kelly,

I know you prefer not to be in the limelight, but I couldn't just let it slip away without any kind of acknowledgement...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=885dqHtbUbI

SG

Gallery Update

2007-10-08T07:50:00.000-07:00

I have added 31 pictures to the capturing skeet gallery from the Jericho DVD launch event held on October 2nd. You can see them all here «

Hope everyone is enjoying Autumn!

DVD Launch Party: But Wait, There's More!

2007-10-05T18:30:00.000-07:00

Skeet and Sprague.

(I love this picture.)

The chemistry is so obviously there.

Can we have a scene like this when Jake finally learns that Heather is alive?

Skeet Sighting: DVD Launch Party

2007-10-05T09:40:00.000-07:00

The hat lives!

there's something in those lips to love this best...

Jericho DVD Launch Party - October 2

source: WI

Target a Jericho set

2007-10-01T22:26:00.000-07:00

TMoODers, Rangers and Skeet fans, the day has come - no commercials, crystal clear pictures and behind the scenes extras one can't wait to see - the Jericho DVD is finally here!

Make sure to stop by the store and pick up your copy if you hadn't reserved online. October 2 (Tuesday) is your day.

TIP: Head to Target to get a special DVD (so I was told) with your Jericho 1st Season Set.

Get it online here to get your copy (or an extra one just in case) JERICHO DVD SET

Let's do it again and show our support for the Jericho team, show them we are still here.

Thursday, July 20, 1944

2007-09-30T23:07:00.000-07:00

Sleep was fitful and I naturally woke up with the dawn. There was no sense staying in bed if I am already wide awake. I figured Livy would like to sleep in after a long trip and eventful yesterday. I said my morning prayers and headed for the bathroom. I stopped at Livy’s door and pressed my ear on the surface for any signs of breathing. There was no sound coming from her room. Doubt somehow threatened my resolve from checking the other side of the door.

Did all that really happen yesterday?

As I brushed my teeth I kept reasoning to the image staring at me in the mirror.

Might she have gone in the middle of the night and returned to Denver?

Head on to Ray's diary and read his latest entry...