Lightning

"You have another one of those?" Laura asked.

Thelma gave her a Kleenex, and they both blew their noses.

"We were on the lam, Aunt Thelma," Chris said. "It's hard to stay in touch with people when you're on the lam."

Taking a deep, shuddery breath, Thelma said, "So, Shane, where are you keeping your collection of severed heads? In the bathroom? I heard you left one behind in San Bernardino. Sloppy. Is this a new hobby of yours, or have you always had an appreciation for the beauty of the human head unencumbered by all the messy extremities?"

"I want you to meet someone," Laura said. "Thelma Ackerson, this is Stefan Krieger."

"Pleased to meet you," Thelma said.

"You'll excuse me if I don't get up," Stefan said. "I'm still recuperating."

"If you can excuse this wig, I can excuse anything." To Laura, Thelma said, "Is he who I think he is?"

"Yes."

"Your guardian?"

"Yes."

Thelma went to Stefan and kissed him wetly on both cheeks. "I've no idea where you come from or who the hell you are, Stefan Krieger, but I love you for all the times you've helped my Laura." She stepped back and sat on the foot of the bed beside Chris "Shane, this man you have here is gorgeous. Look at him. he's 4 hunk. I'll bet you shot him just so he couldn't get away. He took* just like a guardian angel ought to look." Stefan was embarrassed,

but Thelma would not be stopped. "You're a real dish, Krieger. I want to hear all about you. But first, here's the money you asked for, Shane." She opened her voluminous purse and withdrew a thick wad of hundred-dollar bills.

Examining the money, Laura said, "Thelma, I asked you for four thousand. There's at least twice that here."

"Ten or twelve thousand, I think." Thelma winked at Chris and said, "When my friends are on the lam, I insist they go first class."

Thelma listened to the story, never expressing disbelief. Stefan was surprised by her open-mindedness, but she said, "Hey, once you've lived at Mcllroy Home and Caswell Hall, the universe holds no more surprises. Time travelers from 1944? Pah! At Mcllroy I could've shown you a woman as big as a sofa, who wore clothes made of bad upholstery fabric, and who was paid a handsome civil-service wage to treat orphaned children like vermin. Now there is an amazement." She was clearly affected by Stefan's origins, chilled and amazed by the trap they were in, but even under these circumstances she was Thelma Ackerson, always looking for the laugh in everything.

At six o'clock she put in the stage teeth again and went up the street to get take-out from a Mexican restaurant. "When you're on the run from the law, you need beans in your belly, tough-guy food." She came back with rain-dampened bags of tacos, containers of enchiladas, two orders of nachos, burritos, and chimichangas. They spread the food out on the bottom half of the bed, and Thelma and Chris sat on the top half. Laura and Stefan sat in chairs at the foot of the bed.

"Thelma," Laura said, "there's enough food here for ten."

"Well, I figured that would feed us and the cockroaches. If we didn't have food for the cockroaches, they might get mean, might go outside and overturn my gardener's pickup. You do have cockroaches here, don't you? I mean, after all, a swell place like this without cockroaches would be like the Beverly Hills Hotel without tree rats."

As they ate, Stefan outlined the plan he had devised for closing the gate and destroying the institute. Thelma interrupted with wisecracks, but when he was finished, she was solemn. "This is damned dangerous, Stefan. Brave enough to be foolish, maybe."

"There's no other way."

"I can see that," she said. "So what can I do to help?"

Pausing with a wad of corn chips halfway to his mouth, Chris said, "We need you to buy the computer, Aunt Thelma."

Laura said, "An IBM PC, their best model, the same one I have at home, so I'll know how to use all the software. We don't have time to learn the operating procedures of a new machine. I've written it all down for you. I could go buy it myself, I guess, with money you gave me, but I'm afraid of showing my face too many places."

"And we'll need a place to stay," Stefan said.

"We can't stay here," Chris said, enjoying being a part of the discussion, "not if we're going to be doing stuff with a computer. The maid would see it no matter how hard we tried to hide it, and she'd talk about it because that would be weird, people holing up in a place like this with a computer."

Stefan said, "Laura tells me that you and your husband have a second house in Palm Springs."

"We have a house in Palm Springs, a condo in Monterey, another condo in Vegas, and it wouldn't surprise me if we owned — or at least had time shares in — our very own Hawaiian volcano. My husband is too rich. So take your pick. My houses are your houses. Just don't use the towels to polish the hubcaps on your car, and if you must chew tobacco and spit on the floors, try to keep it in the corners."