The Deans were up at the first pink of dawn, but they didn't beat Fred O'Connor, who had already perked coffee, cracked eggs, and burned toast for their morning breakfast. Cynthia and her husband were appreciative of his efforts, which Dean knew came as much from nerves over his pending jury duty as early morning kindness.

"Who bought the orange juice with fur in it?" Fred grumbled as he poured three glasses.

"It's not fur-it's pulp and it's good for you," Dean answered. "More vitamins."

"I'm too old to need vitamins. And somebody washed out the coffee pot. It don't taste right."

"That was the public health people," Cynthia answered. "They pulled up in a van full of guys dressed in those white biological suits that cover you head to toe."

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Dean filled his coffee cup. While he was pleased that Bird Song was starting the day on a pleasant note, the knot in his stomach remained to remind him of their pending trip to the mine. He patted Fred on the back. "You're just grumpy because you have to go to court instead of playing in the woods with us."

"If you think jury duty is so great, why don't you go in my place?"

"I would, if I thought I could get away with it. The age would be the give-away, even if I feel seventy-seven."

Fred was dressed for the occasion-dapper suit, bow tie, and vest-while the Deans donned the grubbiest attire they could find.

"You folks can take off now if you want," Fred said, as he dallied over his breakfast. "I don't have to be at the courthouse for hours."

"I'm in no rush. It's practically still dark out there," Dean answered.

"Don't make no difference in a mine. You're going to be in the dark all day." Which observation sent another spasm of chills racing down Dean's spine.

"Who's gonna mind the ship while you folks are poking around in the ground?" Fred continued. "Poor Maria, as good as she is, can't be much help on the phone if she don't speak the language." Dean figured Fred was making a last ditch effort for a dispensation from his public duty.

"We put a 'Bird Song is full' message on the answering machine," Cynthia said. "It tells callers looking for reservations to call after four o'clock." While the Deans didn't like to leave Bird Song unattended, occasionally it was unavoidable.

The couple was hoping to get on the road ahead of one or more of the feuding Dawkinses, who might be moseying to the same destination. However, they needed more supplies-additional batteries, a second flashlight, and marking chalk-all to be purchased at the variety store, which didn't open until eight o'clock. But their plans didn't work out. By the time they were ready to leave, all of Bird Song was up and about, scurrying around like mice in a cheese shop. After locating a missing sneaker, Pumpkin left without a word and, shockingly, without breakfast. The Dawkinses, back to being cautiously nice to each other, were dressed for business-another necktie and nylons day, according to Paulette-scheduled for a group visit to their attorney and a realtor. Joseph asked Fred for a marker and cardboard and began making "No Trespassing" signs, signifying he planned a visit to the mine later. Fred said Brandon Westlake was already gone-off to capture the columbine in dawn's early light. The others, when not lingering over coffee, were peeking in the kitchen for more pastries. The Deans hid out in their quarters, not anxious for their scruffy attire to telegraph their clandestine destination. They lucked out on the matter of inn sitting. A young couple whose life dream was owning a Bird Song look-alike learned from Fred the principals would be absent for the day and offered to stick around playing temporary innkeepers. Their offer was quickly accepted.




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