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hazel-of-sodor · 11 months

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Guardian Ch.5 Awakening

Guardian

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Ch.5 Awakening

With Emily's help they were able to quickly reach the works, the rails singing under the wheels of the three engines. Emily was speaking as fast as they ran, Emerald happily listening to her tales of life on her line. Soon Emily and Thomas were whistling together as they rolled up to the works, catching the attention of the crews arriving for their morning shift, including the works manager Stephen Hatt. He strode over to them with all the dignity and authority his family was known for. Both Thomas and Emily snapped to attention.

While he wasn't the Fat Controller yet, everyone knew he would be one day, and that was enough for the engines to see him as one.

He came to a stop a few feet from their strange consist. He certainly made an intimidating sight. All the Hatt men were tall enough to scold all but the largest engines without a step-ladder. Further, Stephen had bucked the family image. While his overalls did strain at times, it wasn't from his dinner but instead muscles from years of moving engine parts by hand. He had his family's broad shoulders, leading to the works crews nicknaming him 'the fit controller.'

"Thomas, Emily," he said calmly, "would you like to introduce me to your friend."

The Phantom, sensing her fellow engine's nerves, gave a soft peep of greeting.

"Please, sir!" Emily burst out, "this is Emerald, my sister. Thomas thought you might have something here that could help her..." Emily trailed off hopefully.

Stephen raised an eyebrow, " Did he now?" and turned expectantly to Thomas.

The tank engine was obviously nervous, but still met Hatt's gaze, "I don't know why sir, I just knew we had to get her here before the sun rose..." Thomas hesitated but pressed on, " Please Sir, is there something, anything you can do?"

Stephen was silent for several seconds as everyone held their breath.

"You're in luck," he finally said, " I believe we have just what she needs." Everyone let out the breath they'd been holding. He turned to the workers who'd been gawking at the phantom engine and bellowed, "Well? Get the doors open! We have an engine in need of our help. Don't just stand there like the other railway's stooges."

The workers scrambled and soon the doors were rolling open, Emily gave a joyful whistle and together the two engines rolled Emerald into the works. The doors fell closed behind them to block any sunlight from reaching Emerald when day broke.

"Bring the eight-footer!" Hatt yelled to one of his subordinates," And you," he turned to point at Samantha and Nicole, "put him on that siding till I can deal with his running board."

Nicole climbed into Thomas's cab and backed him into one of the work's internal sidings as he grumbled.

By this point, both Samantha and Nicole were dead on their feet and noticing this, Stephen ordered them to rest. Nicole followed one of the workers to where spare beds were kept for when workers had to stay overnight. Samantha, after checking its integrity, hopped up on Thomas's footplate and laid back against his side tanks, causing him to hum contentedly.

Shortly, just as Samantha was about to fall asleep there was a soft whistle as Victor arrived, shunting something covered by a tarp in front of Emily and Emerald. When the tarp was pulled off, another 4-2-2 was revealed: identical in shape to Emily, with a pair of tall driving wheels in the center, in a red undercoat.

"Another Stirling Single, " Thomas gasped. Emily and their crews stared in shock. The single wasn't complete, the cab and side-rods weren't installed, there was no tender, and the space for the smokebox door lay empty, but what it would be when finished was unmistakable.

Stephen walked over and put his hand on her bufferbeam, "Grandfather noticed how strongly you missed your sisters, he could never get permission from BR to actually agree, but he ensured that if we ever actually got permission to build a new member of your class, we'd be ready. Father got permission last year to build a new engine to help with passenger work on your line."

"Can....Can Emerald use it?" Emily hesitated, her eyes locked on the new engine before her.

"I don't know," Hatt mused, "Thomas?"

Thomas closed his eyes and breathed deeply for a moment, thinking. "It would be an extreme risk," he said finally. "Transferring a healthy engine from one body to another is always a big risk. Placing one who can't pass on in a new body....I've never even heard of it being considered....If it goes wrong she would be gone, as if she had never existed...it's up to her whether that risk is better than staying as she is."

Everyone fell silent as Emerald's red light looked down to the rails before her in contemplation. It had felt like hours passed before the red light rose back up to focus on Thomas, but the clock said it had been mere moments. The red light met his eyes directly, reflecting strangely in them.

The phantom engine gave a short resolute whistle, Thomas gave a determined grin, "We'll be waiting when you wake."

Suddenly Emerald's phantom form flickered out of existence, Emily's alarmed whistle was cut through by the clang of an old battered smokebox door falling to the floor.

"Go!" Stephen roared as he ran for the piece of Emerald left behind. He began to push it up right. Several of the other workers ran over and helped him push it upright. One of the work's mobile cranes, Kevin if she remembered correctly, raced over. Soon the old door was lifted into place on the new engine, but there was a problem. The Smokebox door was bent and battered, so it couldn't shut correctly. The workers all looked panicked, but Stephen remained calm.

"Mallet!" He called, shrugging off his overcoat. He pulled on his gloves and goggles, then climbed on to the footplate. A worker ran over with a large hammer and passed it up to him. Other workers held the door in place as he began to work. Each strike rang out through the works like a great bell, gold sparks flying with each hit. Slowly, but surely the door bent back in shape. Behind the engine, hoses were being run to the engine so that it could be steamed the moment he was done. The engines and the crews watched anxiously as he worked, hoping beyond hope that it would work.

At last the hammer strike rang out a final time, "Light it!" he yelled. Coal was shoveled into the new firebox and a worker ran over to Emily's crew with a newspaper, which they lit with her fire. They gave it back to the worker who ran and threw it into the firebox. Slowly the steam pressure began to rise, but the engine didn't not wake. Stephen climbed onto the footplate and began to stoke the fire himself, but still the engine did not wake.

Eventually Emily could take it no more, she rolled gently forward till their buffers met. "Sister, please," she begged, tears running down her face, "don't leave me when I just got you back." The works were quiet, the sound of the engines letting off steam somehow not covering the sound of Emily's tears hitting her footplate. Emily looked down and began to quietly sob when there was no response. Everyone looked down and some of the workers slowly began to walk away, stricken by their failure.

"Driver!" Thomas suddenly hissed, Samantha looked back, finding his eyes locked on the engine's smokebox. She focused, trying to see what had caught his attention, THERE!!

Faintly, a flash of grey flickered over the smokebox door again, weak, but unmistakably there.

Thomas whistled with a will and lurched as he fought against his brakes to roll forward. Samantha scrambled back along the running board to his cab and threw the brake off. Although his fire had died down, he still had steam left as he rolled up to the engine and carefully buffered up behind.

Instantly the flickers strengthened. For a split second Samantha glimpses features like Emily's but they're gone in the same instant.

"Quick my fire!" Thomas bellows. Stephen scrambles down from the engine's footplate and runs to Thomas's where Samantha tosses him a burning piece of coal. He dashes back and throws the coal into the firebox from the ground and the fire flares.

"Victor!" Thomas and Stephen roared in near perfect sync as the latter all but jumps back up onto the footplate, casting off his burning gloves as he did. Victor races over on the crosstrack and places his buffers against the engines sides while his crew toss a newspaper lit from his fire to a waiting workman. The moment the newspaper hit the single’s firebox, a face flickered into view. It had longer eyelashes, sleeker features and a sharper nose, but there was no mistaking its relation to Emily.

It started to flicker away, but all three engines went, "NO!" as one and flared their fires. The face flickered back into view.

"Driver!" Thomas called desperately, but Samantha was already throwing coal onto his fire. Nicole, awakened by the commotion dove into Thomas's cab, and together the two of them had his fire roaring in seconds. When Samantha paused for a second to wipe her brow she saw the other engines' crews doing the same for their engines, the work crews scrambling with more water lines and coal to keep the engines going. In the singles cab, Stephen and some of the workers carefully tended the firebox. As Thomas's pressure rose the face flickered less and less, becoming more and more solid with every pound of pressure. Soon steam poured from all four engine's safety valves as they boosted the new engine, but it still wasn't enough. Just as Samantha began to despair, a familiar horn sounded and Rusty rolled in. The Skarloey's number 5 quickly rolled to the side opposite Victor and pushed against the single, engine revving.

"The others are coming as quickly as they can," the little diesel called over the noise," I was just the quickest to start."

However, It turned out the others weren't needed. Just as Rusty's motor finished revving up, the face stopped flickering. All the workers waited with baited breath. The engine's eyes slowly opened, while it frowned, clearly bothered by all the noise.

The single blinked in confusion until its eyes landed on the engine in front of it, "Big Sister?"

Emily had been holding her eyes shut against the view of the engine's face flickering away in front of her, but they shot open at her name. "Emerald?" She asked hesitantly.

"Emily," Emerald said with relief.

At this the works exploded into cheers, whistles, and horns.

#ttte fanfic #rws fanfic #ttte thomas #ttte emily #ttte rusty #ttte victor #ttte kevin #ttte oc nicole #ttte oc samantha #ttte stephen hatt #ghost engine #ghost train #engines that go bump in the night

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reading-hub · 5 years

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Dandy And The Jet 🚀 [3] To Boobies, Baby!

- Space Dandy x reader -

[part 2]

- - - - -

The digital transmission hidden underneath your jacket that was made by Bea so it was easy to update on the mission with Admiral Perry. You were explaining the events that were leading up to today, from that one-sided crazy bar fight, being able to escape said bar fight, having the opportunity to escape with Dandy's crew inside the "Aloha Oe" to now.

“So, you’ve already made your way to his inner circle?”

You hid within the hallways, luckily nobody hadn't woken up yet. Although that little wheeled robot named QT had this obsession with cleaning early, so your not exactly in the clearing yet...

"Yes, I have. His crew was surprisingly welcoming despite them being alien hunters.." You responded, remembering your last experience with some alien hunters in the past...

"I don't care about them! What about the target, how's is he taking in your presence? Has he suspected anything about you since your arrival?" Admiral was obviously cautious about you being found out in a short time. You rolled your eyes slightly.

You sighed and answered. "Well, he was questioning my position when I took the wheel, but nothing really about me.” Admiral sighed in relief, guess that's good news?

"Very well, just keep pursuing on the target at all times, don't let him slip through your fingers. We're so close yet so far." The burning skeleton commanded. "I will, sir." You agreed, transmission ended.

"Hello miss [f/n]!" You jumped slightly, turning around to see the little robot QT and his broom. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry! Did I startle you?" QT said in a worried tone. The robot really was the sweetest.

"Don't worry, er, I was just looking around the ship..." You smiled looking at the inter-galactic gears and such.

Now that I mentioned it, this ship is pretty huge, this must've cost a fortune, maybe Dandy is a successful alien hunter after all if he was able to afford such a ship and all...

You shrugged it off and looked at QT. "So uh, you clean up around the ship when everybody's asleep?" You asked, continuing the conversation with the little robot.

"I clean up anyway, even if everyone's awake or not." Saying in their autotuned voice, which is a bit adorable. "I really like cleaning," QT said simply.

"That's one hell of a favorite thing to do. I rarely ever hear someone say that sentence, ever." You chuckled a little. "So anyway, what exactly is the schedule around here?" You asked, changing the subject.

"Schedule?" QT said confused. "Oooh!" The male robots autotune sang in harmony. "To be quite honest, there really isn't one." They shrugged, your eyes quirked a little in surprise and confusion. "The only real mundane place that Dandy likes to go to most of the time is a place called Boobies," QT answered.

"Boobies?" Your whole facade went full-on confusion with what the innocent robot said so casually. "Yeah, it's this restaurant that Dandy really likes going to a lot but the paycheck is more than what we normally have so its tough for Dandy to accept when we don't have enough to go." The robot explained.

Huffing a little in response, "Judging by the name of this restaurant, I can tell why Dandy would like going there." Both QT and You laughed right after.

"Geez, you giggling pre-teens woke me up." Looks like your quality conversation with QT is over thanks to a grumpy pompadour. Speaking of pompadour, Dandy was hiding his hair using his blanket that he dragged along the floor without a care.

"Now if you excuse me, girlies, I gotta take a shower. This hair ain't gonna fix itself!" Dandy boasted proudly as if you were gonna swoon over him right when he gets out.

"We should probably check and see if Meow is awake, though I highly doubt it," QT grumbled as we walked to the main room of the ship. "How long does it usually take for everyone to be awake by?" You asked jokingly. "I'd say around 02:00 in standard time," QT answered quickly, looking at his watch that miraculously appears out of nowhere!

"It's nine-forty." You questioned immediately. “How long does it take for Dandy to finish up in there?" The robot rolled his screen eyes thinking of Dandy's precious timing.

"I'd say two hours, one if today's a lucky day." QT hoped.

"Dang." Was all you could say to that. The guys that you use to know hated when a woman took too long getting ready and didn't really care for their hair products. Needless to say, this Dandy guy was something else and nobody you’ve met before.

After talking with QT for two hours or so, you both sat at the dining table, if you call it that. You can easily tell by the crew that they didn't seem the type to eat breakfast together in a table.

QT was nice enough to make you a single cup of coffee. Luckily he was able to find some coffee beans after looking up and down in the cabinets. Wasn't a lot but you could manage either way. You wondered if he was able to have any human-like food?

You both shared a few things, like past stories. QT shared a lot about the past adventures him and Dandy have been through. A booby monster, plant people, and said something about zombies but I kinda lost track since all them were just bat-shit crazy all on their own.

You on the other hand only shared ones that were pretty tame when compared to theirs. Warning the robot that your adventures aren't really exciting to tell compared to what they told.

QT seemed interested with what you told him anyway, but you also didn’t want to overshare too much.

"What are you guys talking about?" The yawning came from Meow who was shuffling his feet, he must be still tired even though he's slept longer than the rest of us combined.

"[F/n] has been telling me about her adventures.” The robot said with glee, you couldn't help but smile in embarrassment when QT showed some exciting interest in your stories. "Whoa really?" Meow was obviously interested. All you could do was shrug in embarrassment.

It has been a while since people actually listen to what I had to say...

Meow just asked upon millions of questions each time you telling more and more details of the time you able to hold your own against the likes of humanoid monsters and crazy ex’s throughout the galaxy.

"Does that mean you know some close combat?" QT asked politely. "Yeah, and a bit of gun firing as well," You replied.

"So are you like some kind of superhero?" Meow smiled and pulled out his phone. “I'm not even close to a superhero."

True, you really weren’t . You were basically the big, bad, villain's accomplice, you know the ones where they trick the good guys into thinking that she's one of them now and then double-crosses them saying how "I am not who you think I am!" And then they laugh evilly.

The sad truth is that I don't think I can laugh evil.

"Is Dandy out of the shower yet? I really need to use the restroom." You said, obviously frustrated. QT grumbled, "Eh, probably putting his hair gel right about now..." You didn’t care, You just stood up and just tell Dandy to step out real quick so that you can go!

Storming off back to the hallway where you had that transmission call with Admiral and then that talk to QT later on.

Stopping your tracks, you noticed that the bathroom door had a small crack open. You could only guess Dandy got out and is probably changing back in his room? You hoped, otherwise he's gonna think you’re peeping on him, which he'll probably find flattering, you however were not intending on that.

Slowly walking towards the steamthat was seeping through the cracked door, Lights full white, You were hoping he forgot to turn off when he left...shit!

Peering through and - goddammit! - he's there! Oh well, at least he has a towel on, even if that towel is low cut and will probably fall off easily...fuck!

He was drying up his hair with another towel. The towel was off from his head, and you got a clear view of his shaggy natural hair!

Your eyes went full surprised. He really wasn't that bad looking without the hair gel, You certainly didn’t understand why he has to hide it...

Oh well.

You felt as though you were peeping a little too long.. you just booked it outta there! Maybe you should hold your bladder until he actually leaves the bathroom next time...

Sprinting back to the lounge, you know what you’ll just call it that since you refuse to call it a "dining room" or a "kitchen".

Meow and QT were still hanging around where you last talked to them. "That was quick," Meow said in surprise. You took a few breaths and replied, "Yeah, turns out I didn't really need to go." You said in relief.

A few minutes later, a wild Dandy appears behind you! "You're finally out of the shower?" You said in a bored tone. "You know if you wanted to take a shower with me, you could've asked?" He suggested slyly. Sadly, he had his pompadour back, kinda wishing to see his hair down. QT decided to change the subject.

"Nevermind that, where are we going, Dandy?"

Dandy's attention was at the robot. "To boobies, baby!" He boasted proudly. "Boobies, you mean that ‘breastaurant’ that QT was telling me about?" I jumped in with air quotes.

Dandy's face freaked a little. "QT, YOU TOLD HER ABOUT BOOBIES!?"

"Don't pin it on them, since I agreed to be apart of this crew, I was probably gonna find out anyway, no use of hiding it.." You said in defense. "She's got ya there, man.” Meow commented on the sideline.

All Dandy could do was have his lips curl, pouting like a child because you had a point.

"Alright, just don't take the fun out of Boobies for me, ok?" Dandy whined slightly at me. You shrugged it off, "Don't plan on it."

"Hey QT, how much we got for Boobies?" He called out to the robot. "Hm, probably enough. But Dandy, I thought we were going to spend this money for--" QT was cut from his words by Dandy.

"Nevermind that QT, we could always just hunt for a rare alien and get double the money back!"

Something tells me that this is just gonna be one those days...you know, the ones where shit gets fucked and it could've been avoided by just listening and following the obvious from earlier.

Yeah...those...

The four of you have arrived at Boobies. You really didn’t have an expectation of what this breastrant would look like, but seeing it right in front of your very eyes, it hit the nail on head.

You weren’t one to judge. We all have our guilty pleasures in life. Some like eating a bag of chips on a slow day, some like the smell of a certain candle that keeps them at ease, and some like a ditzy waitress who dresses little to the imagination to take their order while also small talk to on a daily basis.

You took a seat between QT and Meow, Dandy sat across from you. Small tension was between you and Dandy for a full two minutes. Dandy obviously not a fan of you being at Boobies with them. You couldn’t care less what he thought about you at that time, you just wanted to eat something, pay half of the check, possibly tip the waitress, and go back to the ship.

Before it can be anymore silent—

“Hey boys, how are we doing today?” You looked up, only to see a young blonde waitress, eyes looked as if full of innocence. She was quite pretty, you admit to yourself. “Oh my, I’m sorry, and how you today, miss?” Her wide eyes immediately directed towards you. Her tone was that of surprise and joy. Possibly because of how rare it is to have female customers here, you guess.

“I’m okay, thank you though.” You replied, smiling faintly at the blonde. “Yeah, we’re good today, too.” Dandy said after, his palm holding his jaw in boredom. The blonde beamed happily. “Dandy, who is she? Is she a new friend of yours?” She egged him on. Obviously curious about who you were. You’d think that this waitress is close friends with Dandy, given how easily she’s able to hold a conversation with him.

“No Honey, me and crew met her yesterday.” He explained, smirking with confidence. “Although an initiation of the Space crew in the talks.” In talks? You could’ve sworn he agreed to you being apart of the crew the first day you two met. You looked at him sideways, just what is he trying to get at?

“An initiation? That must be so fun! When is it??” Honey looked at him with answers. Dandy slumped on the booth, smug as all hell. He’s gonna get punched so bad when we get back to the ship. “Actually, initiation starts today.” He boasted.

“It is?” Honey asked excited.

“It is?” You reiterated sarcastically, wondering where this was going.

“It is.” Dandy conceded.

Before Dandy could be anymore proud of himself of having you put in a tight situation, hook line and sinker...

“Since when did we propose for an initiation for future crew members?” QT popped up with a sudden question out of nowhere. “We didn’t have one for Meow now that I think about it...” the robot added, while Dandy’s eyes widen, nervously.

“It’s a new thing I made up!” Dandy interjected. “I forgot to tell you and Meow about..” he explained, hoping the damn robot keeps thier mouth shut. “Okaaay, what’s the first stage of initiation then?” QT asked after.

Meow looked up from his phone, seeing what was unfolding right in front of him.

Dandy could only grind his teeth, thinking of one on the top of his head and try not to look stupid. Than, a light switched on his head!

“[f/n], our lovely new recruit here has to pay for the check.” Douche. That was all that popped in your head soon after.

Well, I have space skeleton demi-god and a pimp gorilla looking over me like vultures, I’m being labeled as a last resort plan to capturing Dandy, and being apart of his crew is the only shot I can get to getting closer to finishing my mission. No pressure.

Ok Dandy, I’ll play along.

“Well, if it’s what I have to do, than so be it.” You agreed, getting a little too confident.

“Alright!” Dandy rubbed his hands together in anticipation. This was too fun for him.

The food orders were now final.

Dandy made it easier by just having you pay for the ‘Captain’s Meal’, aka Dandy and yourself. Meow just ordered for soup and a soda, QT just wanted some juice. You wondered if the robot could actually consume foods...

Your order was that of a space meat fillet that you thought looked good on the menu and your choice of two sides.

However, Dandy knew he had you by his finger and went all out. Two large chucks of meat, topped with chili, cheese, a ramen bowl, and a slushee that was most likely child size.

He looked as smug and pampered as they came at that moment. The food came in.

Meow’s and QT ‘s came first since their orders were small and simple. Your’s came second. Dandy’s was last, the meal was so huge that Honey needed another waitress to help her bring it to the table.

You rolled your eyes at how Dandy was making a big deal out of this.

Meow and QT were done with thier orders a long time ago. You just finished your own meal. Dandy on the other hand, still had halfway to go. I guess Dandy didn’t think though how big of an order his was compared to everyone else.

“You’re not gonna finish that.” Meow commented as he was scrolling his phone. He pouted his lip in response. “Nope, I’m not gonna give in to the temptation of losing.” Dandy replied, hiding away the worry.

“Losing what? I’m the one paying for your meal.” You said suddenly. “How about we just ask to box it for to-go.” You suggested. You honestly felt a little bad. He looked like a small boy who feels bad for not finishing his dinner. It was honestly kinda cute at this state.

Wait what?

“Fine!” He gave in, crossing his arms in the process. You perked up at the waitress who was walking past your table, and asked if they’re was a to-go box for a meal like Dandy’s.

Honey came in with the check, the total of Dandy’s meal itself was almost 300 yen, your own meal was around 30. Luckily, you secretly tapped Honey’s shoulder and gave the ditzy blonde a coupon for Boobies when Dandy wasn’t looking. You knew holding onto that coupon would benefit you one day.

The crew got their things together before heading out. Dandy begrudgingly holding onto his box that had his meal.

It was already midnight by the time you guys came out of the breastaurant. All of got into ship, one by one. All tired from eating. Seeing how exhausted you looked, Dandy took the liberty of stirring the ship with QT tonight. How nice.

Guess him being nice was just a thank you for putting up with him today at Boobies.

Before you could relax your eyes, Dandy shouted out:

“Whoops, forgot to get gas!” He nervously smiled through his teeth.

“ARGGHHH!!!” You, Meow, and QT loudly responded.

#space dandy x reader #space dandy #hubbywritings

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bonfire-at-the-crossroads · 5 years

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Rutger Hauer has passed, and is on his way through the stars, toward the shoulder of Orion and the Tannhauser Gate.

He gave himself to the world of film and created characters which will continue to inspire the people lucky enough to share in the dreams he left behind.

I wrote this a couple years ago - and maybe it’s time to look at it again.

Thank you Mr Hauer for leaving this place a little brighter for your having been here.

Good journey, peace at last.....

————————————————————————————————————-

January 8, 2016

It's Roy Batty's birthday.

Ridley Scott's 1982 movie - Blade Runner - cast Rutgers Hauer as the renegade Replicant in search of his maker.

The film was a brilliant adaptation of Philip K Dick's "Do Androids Dream Of Electric Sheep?"

Roy and a small group of Nexus-6 Replicants, have stolen an off-world transport, killed the crew, and returned to earth - in an attempt to coerce their designer to extend their programmed four-year lifespan. January 8, 2016 was the day of Roy's inception, and also the day his genetic coding has scheduled him for death.

He is being hunted by Harrison Ford, as hired-gun Deckard - a Blade Runner - paid to track and kill escaped Replicants.

----------------------------------------------

In 1982 - the idea of the year 2016 was a mind-numbing distance away.

"The Future" was a place where anything was possible, and our wildest dreams would come true.

It seems like yesterday.

And yet, when I started thinking about the world I inhabited in '82, and where I've washed up on the shores of 2016 - it's been quite an extended sea voyage.

I was married to somebody else.

We walked into town to the little movie theater on Central Avenue, and as we moved to our seats, were told by the usher ( yeah, that's right - there were still ushers ) -"You shouldn't even bother with this movie. It stinks. Four people at the last show actually asked for their money back."

We loved it.

Minds were blown - and we went back two more times, bringing friends.

That Christmas Eve - I had a small stroke. I was 26.

At the time, I was more worried about how the news would affect my husband - and did not fully appreciate my own predicament. He overheard the doctor on the phone making arrangements for what was then, the only echocardiogram machine in the New York area.

"Is that about you?" He asked. I nodded.

My husband passed out cold on the waiting room floor.

I survived. Had test after test after test, and slowly got my left side back under my own control.

Time passed.

We tried for the baby - and a series of horrors led to the loss of pregnancy, and culminated with a 3:00 AM visit to the emergency room.

The husband was so upset - he left me by the hospital entrance, and drove home.

When he inevitably decided that he needed "space" and wanted to "take a break" -(clearly, his office-affair had nothing to do with this decision ) - I used the time to take a good long look at the marriage.

When he came back three months later - I was not the girl he had walked out on.

The world had changed, and so had the locks.

-------------------------------------------------

I moved into the West Village with a girlfriend. It was awkward having a roommate after having a husband, home, and mortgage - but I made it work.

An unusual boyfriend followed, and several years of actors, artists, and cabaret performers filled my days and nights.

It was Manhattan in the '80's. There were nights out spent dancing at the clubs til dawn.

The Met was open late on Friday nights, and my group of fellow oddballs wandered the museum halls every week for over a year.

Art and illustration was my livelihood. I knew everyone in the Village ( at least by sight) and was completely comfortable in my element.

But my friends got sick.

And my friends started dying.

AIDS ravaged the world.

The Village was ground zero, and everyone was terrified. We didn't know where it was coming from, didn't know how to cope with the skeletal friend, the friend covered with sarcoma blotches - was it the end of the world?

In many ways - yes. It was.

The best, brightest, most talented people on earth were dying out - and all I could do was hold hands at the bedside, and attend memorial services.

There was a three month period when I went to a service EVERY SINGLE WEEK.

My dearest friend, Bruce - I never even knew when he was well. We were fellow illustrators, and spent hours a day with phone cocked between shoulder and ear - talking while we drew in our separate studios. He was in Chelsea, I was on the corner of Perry and West Fourth.

We brought children's books to life, and loved the work.

As AIDS ravaged his body, he needed to take long naps in the afternoons. His fever would spike uncontrollably - he called it "Shake and Bakes."

He fussed over the ugly sarcoma lesions which appeared on his arms and hands - he found a theatrical makeup which he swore would cover them up so that nobody would know.

Everybody pretended that it worked.

"Well, my sweet darling angel - I took a shower this morning, and guess what? I watched all my hair go down the drain."

Some medication he was taking, combined with what may have been a chemotherapy cocktail - took every hair on his head.

He entered the shower - with.

Exited - without.

He had been told this might be a possibility, and had already purchased a wig from a professional Broadway wig-maker.

It was awful looking, but we continued to pretend.

He slipped farther away, and was hospitalized on a closed floor reserved for AIDS patients.

I visited every single day.

I brought tiny gifts, saved up stories to make him laugh - and built my day around spending time with him.

His family wouldn't come and see him. Friends did their best, but simply couldn't be with him when push had finally come down to shove.

I remember shouting at his brother on the pay phone in the hospital hallway "I can't make this better. I'm not allowed to make decisions for his care, because I'm not a family member. He is dying, and you need to be here."

He wasn't.

I held Bru's hand, and wiped his forehead. I asked the nurse to turn up his oxygen because he was struggling and begging for air. "It's as high as it will go." she said - and even though it was time for all visitors to leave, she said I could stay.

The day before, he had spent time with a priest who had given him what I now believe was last rites. He seemed comforted, and we said what needed to be said.

"You know Bru....I will ALWAYS love you."

He smiled and said. "I know. And I will always love you too."

He took his last breath a little before midnight.

I closed his eyes.

Twenty seven years have passed since that night.

-----------------------------------------------

The unusual boyfriend fell victim to his own silliness. He convinced himself that another woman was sending him messages about being attracted to him - and he needed "some space" to explore the magic.

He did.

She didn't

And I was magically single again.

As 1990 dawned - the Internet had not been invented.

The cell phone - wasn't.

Video rental stores were visited daily, and made money hand-over-fist.

Blonde, Madonna, and all that wonderful 80's music that my kids now think is divine - were the sounds of the decade.

And I didn't quite trust CD's.....

Times Square was just beginning to shed the peep shows and adult movie houses.

It was gritty, and how I loved it.

July 4th of 1990 I found myself eating in the diner downstairs from my apartment on the corner of 14th St and Seventh Avenue.

It was empty.

I ate my bluefish dinner and went back upstairs to the drawing board.

One single red rocket cleared the rooftops and the stars rained down.

I was bored.

Decided to place a personal ad in The Village Voice. "Looking for an interesting conversation over a cup of coffee....." and some other minor nonsense.

Over 350 people responded in the three days I checked the answering machine.

"I've never answered a personal ad," said the voice on the phone."I live with a grey cat. And I'm reading DUNE. Maybe you could call me, and we'll get a cup of coffee?"

On our third date, he never went back home.

"You know what? It's getting kind of silly to keep paying for an apartment to keep my cat in...."

"So what are you saying?" I asked. "Are you asking to officIally move in here?"

" Nope. Let's get married. It'll be fun. I'm not exactly getting younger - either are you. Why not?"

"It'll either work - or it won't. What's the reason that we shouldn't at least TRY?"

He talked me into it.

Brian and I were married in the Cathedral of St John the Divine, three months after our first date. Twenty five years ago, last October.

Babies happened. Three in a row. "Irish triplets" as my obstetrician called them.

Quinn.

Morgan.

Maddie.

They were (and are ) the three finest people I have ever known - and are the center of my soul.

Brian and I survived critical fulcrum points where the smallest waver would have plunged all of us into hell.

We stared death in the face - death blinked, and looked away,

more than once.

We walked away from alcoholism.

Left cigarettes behind,

Did battle with depression,

and kept walking....

We've skated on the thinnest of financial ice for YEARS.

We've worked and worked and worked some more - and it was never going to be enough to keep the ship afloat.

The kids, as we've laughed over the years have "Never missed a meal."

Nothing was easy, but our youngest will be the third to graduate from college in the Spring. Yes, there are loans to be paid - and we'll do everything we can to help them gain traction in their lives.

About a year and a half ago we took a good hard look at where the road was leading us. Our ability to maintain the income necessary to support our lives in Westchester county, in a big house with a big mortgage - huge utility bills, and a dwindling job market - we came up with a plan.

The bank was unhappy with our syncopated mortgage payment schedule - and really wanted their house back. Things were sliding downhill, and we simply couldn't stop it.

"Let's take the money from my last free-lance job, and buy a house in Ireland."

Found one.

And did.

Sold the house in Westchester.

Packed up everything we could.

Got on the plane.

And here we are.

January 8th, 2016, and it's 1982 all over again.

The Replicant is out of time.

He sits high on the rooftops above the city, rain is pouring from the black skies - and Roy Batty,- in his last moment of life - knows what it is to be fully human.

"I've seen things, you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched c-beams glitter in the dark near Tannhauser gate. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain."

We all go through the motions. We get out of bed every day, and do our best to keep our lives and our families moving forward.

We work.

And plan.

And strive for happiness.

I'm no Roy - but I too, have seen things that will pass away with me when I go.

I, too, have learned what it is to be fully, and completely - human.

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