By noon the fog had lifted from the treetops and the sun broke through, warming the air. Ron looked longingly at the beer sitting on the cupboard, and even while his whole body craved another drink, he took the bottles from the fridge, put them back in the case and took it down to the basement. Then he went to the car and brought down the ones from the trunk.

Zanda, who’d been working in the kitchen, had come to join him, but said nothing as she watched him set the beer behind the furnace, then go to the corner of the basement and bring back a wheelbarrow, “What are you going to do?” she asked.

“I’m going to rake up the leaves and dump them down in the bush.”

“I want to help.”

“Sure. It’s nice out, but not that warm. Kim’s old jacket is hanging on the back of the basement door.” he said as he took a rake and fork down from the wall and handed them to her, then pulled the rubber tired wheelbarrow up the basement stairs and wheeled it over to the lawn. He started by picking up limbs that had broke off during the storm, carrying the few large ones down to the bush and loading the small ones into the wheelbarrow, while Zanda started raked the leaves into bunches.

He stopped and watched her for a moment, and while she could have been a twin to Kim, wearing her old brown jacket with the torn pockets and missing buttons, that’s where the resemblance ended. Where Kim was warmly affectionate, he sensed the girl raking up his leaves had a smoldering fire deep within her body that could be fanned to a consuming flame.

But she could lash out in uncontrollable anger, as Kolinsky found out when he tried to molest her, only to be killed with a steak knife wielded by her small but strong and swift hand. This scared him, that such a little person could exhibit such violence, but having come through the invasion of Hong Kong, she was probably no stranger to horror and bloodshed.

He pushed the wheelbarrow over to a pile of leaves and loaded them on, when Zanda came up beside him.

“I’d like to see where you dump that?”

“Sure, I’ll give you the royal tour.” he said, as he wheeled the barrow to dump it behind the large maple trees by Cleopatra’s grave.