Beckley waited for Watcher-man to continue. He realized by the lightness he felt in his mind that his intruder had departed. Thank God, he thought to himself. Once more he wished he could scrub his mind free of any lingering foulness. Vie was looking at him, waiting for him to relay Watcher-man’s answer. He swallowed and shrugged.
“He’s gone.”
“Really?” Vie demanded, and when he nodded she took his arm so they could walk briskly side-by-side up his parents’ driveway. “Why? Did he say he was going?”
“No, he didn’t. He answered your question—it was no, by the way—and then in the middle of saying seven he disappeared.”
“Well, how odd is that?”
“Very odd. Were you able to hear him?”
“Yes, faintly. I was afraid to listen more closely for fear he would know I was there.” Vie stopped and faced him in dappled shade. “Beckley?”
“Yes?”
The breeze ruffled her short russet bangs and the sunlight stroked her cheeks with its golden rays. Her green eyes gleamed at him between the fringes of her curling eyelashes. In a soft, direct voice, she stated, “I’d like a kiss.” She edged closer. “Do you want to kiss me?”
Instead of a verbal answer, Beckley drew her into his arms and touched her lips with his. Immediately he was immersed in the dual sensations of his lips feeling hers while her lips tasted his. Her arms entwined about his neck and her fingers pushed into his curls. She opened her mouth to his earnest exploration. This is what he needed. Her soft lips. Her moist mouth. Her soothing, cleansing mind-touch.
Violet?
Beck.
When I kiss you I feel clean again. You… We…taste amazing.
I agree, she whispered into his mind.
Then he heard her humming and wondered if she knew that deep in her mind a strain flowed. Beckley realized he was swaying them back and forth to the drift of her humming. Strauss. Junior. He hummed a few snippets of The Blue Danube Waltz along with her. Their lips parted as they both grinned. Beckley caressed her bare arm with his right hand, drawing hers from around his neck to clasp against his chest. He pressed his cheek against hers. With his other hand he directed the small of her back against his middle as they continued to sway.
“This is so…” he whispered and then ended in his mind…incredible.
I don’t understand why I’ve never experienced anything like this before, Vie thought, listening to the melody meander back and forth through Beckley’s mind to hers. It cannot only be my talent. You must be influencing this too. If I am a telepath, then you must be a great receiver.
Maybe I am, he sighed and she could tell that he was wrapped up in the experience and not really considering the mechanics of the how and why. Following his example, she let the analytical side of her brain fade away and permitted herself to enjoy the uniqueness of the moment. This has always been my favorite waltz. Our dance teacher held an advanced class in my senior year for those students who wanted to learn the Viennese Waltz. I loved it.
The image of a beautiful Viennese ballroom blossomed in Beckley’s mind as he showed her a place he had visited. Great sparkling glass chandeliers hung overhead, illuminating the men and women twirling around the gleaming marble floor.
Shall we go there one day and dance the waltz together? I learned it from a grand dancing master while studying for a few months in Austria.
Vie caught her breath, turned her head and discovered Beckley’s lips were there, warm and waiting. His lips moved over hers with gentle, insistent pressure. The hairs on the nape of her neck prickled with the splendor of cascading notes drifting down her spine. His tongue stroked hers and his hot breath fanned across her cheeks. She wanted the kiss to go on forever but like any great waltz fading on a final note, their lips separated with a gasp of stunned laughter.
“The next time we kiss like that, we better be near a bed,” Vie murmured, a slow grin settling on her lips.
“And privacy,” Beckley agreed, chuckling still.
He started them on their way but did not release her hand. Rather he entwined his fingers with hers and pressed their combined fist against his cheek and then dusted a light kiss on her knuckles before continuing on to the demising line between the woods and the open grass around the house. In silent agreement, they stopped holding hands before they came in full view of his childhood home. Beckley walked with his hands behind his back and his eyebrows furrowed. However, when Vie looked at him a gentle smile flitted across his lips and then away again as if he was determined to be serious when he really wanted to dance.
“We are agreed, then, that we will tell them everything?” Vie asked and then bit her own bottom lip to stop herself from smiling at his reaction.
Beckley stuttered to a halt and looked at her with some alarm. “Everything?”
His expression drew out a bark of laughter from her that made him smile sheepishly.
“No,” she puffed. “Not everything.”
“What are you two laughing about?” Beckley’s mother asked, coming down the drive to meet them.
“Nothing,” Beckley said immediately and then glared at Vie when she howled with laughter once more.
“Come along, please. The water is hot for coffee and the tea is brewing.” His mother fell into step beside Vie who could just detect her spicy perfume. “You promised to tell us everything. Now, what did I say?”
“She’s such a child sometimes,” Beckley said, smiling broadly.
Vie struggled to regain her composure.
“No doubt you’ve been a bad influence on her,” Angie said.
Vie clapped her hand over her mouth to smother another guffaw and opened her eyes at Beckley’s virtuous expression. No one had ever considered that she might be the victim of someone else’s influence instead of the other way around.
“Well I do remember the many, many times you played jokes on your sister and brother. You have always been such a rebel.”
“Mother, there hasn’t been time enough for me to affect Vie’s character one way or another,” Beckley reminded her.
“Tosh. That hardly matters. Put the right people together and they will start influencing each other immediately.” She leaned around Vie and peered at him. “For example, I can already see that you are much more relaxed and happier than you were before you went to Connecticut.” She shook a long elegant finger at him. “In spite of the trouble that is besetting you.”
Vie took a deep, sobering breath. “Yes, there is much to relate. You and your husband may not believe half of it. I think we can prove some of it but you will have to take the rest of it on faith.”
“We may not go to church,” Angie said, her tone reassuring. “However, both my husband and I have always had an abundance of faith.”
* * * * *
They gathered around the circular glass-topped kitchen table within an atrium-type alcove. Beckley and Vie sat opposite his parents. He kept his feet tucked beneath the rattan chair and his arms remained crossed. He’d never been so aware of the location of his body in relation to others.
“Everyone has a hot beverage of their choice,” his father commented. He waved at the fine china plate in the middle of the table. “We’ve offered you cookies… Now it is time for your explanations. We want a round tale and we want one tout de suite.”
“A round tale?” Vie asked, an eyebrow jumping. “What is that?”
Beckley sighed. “Shakespeare… Othello. ‘I will a round unvarnished tale deliver.’”
“Ah,” Vie said. She leaned forward and in a stage whisper offered, “You had better watch your step, Dr. Hume. Beckley cannot stop himself from correcting any form of misquotation.”
“I should hope he couldn’t,” his father huffed, though Beckley saw the twinkle he could not suppress. “Caught you out, did he?”
“Yes. It was liar, liar pants on fire.”
“Oh, that one,” his parents said in concert and both of them nodded.
“That’s a particular bugaboo with him because when he was a child—”
“Okay. Okay,” Beckley rushed in, his heart racing and sweat stinging the middle of his back. “We don’t have time for this sort of reminiscing.”
“Sure we do,” his mother claimed, wiggling forward in her chair as if preparing to impart many great and horrendous secrets, misdemeanors and embarrassments from his childhood.
Before she could open her mouth to continue, Beckley blurted out, “We’re being mind-stalked by someone we think is a cold-blooded killer—either directly or by proxy.”
Really? That’s how you planned on telling them?
Beckley looked from Vie’s open eyes to his parents’ stunned expressions.
What did you expect her to tell me? That you wet the bed? Mothers usually only spill that particular bean when their grandchild has the same problem.
I didn’t wet the bed. I panicked, that’s all.
I am so getting her alone, Vie told him—warned him more like. We are going to have so much to discuss.
Violet…
She didn’t answer him. Instead, she turned away and addressed his parents. “In a nutshell—”
Dr. Hume held up his hand. “I do not believe you have fully embraced the concept of a ‘round unvarnished tale’. It does not contain the words, ‘in a nutshell’.” His large hands, knuckles slightly swollen from arthritis, formed the shape in the air the size of a medicine ball. He rotated his hands around the imaginary sphere as he spoke. “We need the entire tale. All of it. A ‘round tale’ is a global tale. Kindly leave nothing out. We would be grateful if you begin with explaining that term. Mind-stalking. What is that? It sounds unpleasant.”
Vie frowned and tilted her head, considering their intelligent, earnest expressions. These people weren’t just Beckley’s parents. They both held doctorates in their fields as well as being extremely well-read and well-traveled. She and Beckley could do much worse than to take them completely into their confidence and listen to their assessment of their situation. Having made the decision to tell them all, she opened her mouth and then promptly shut it.
“What is it? Have I offended you?” Dr. Hume asked. “It was not my intent, my dear.”
“No, that’s not it,” she said, glancing sideways at the window that overlooked the driveway. “Someone’s coming. Are you expecting company?”
“I don’t hear anything,” Angie said, coming to her feet. “Bonnie and Clyde aren’t reacting either. Are you sure you hear something?”
“Oh yes. She’s sure,” Beckley said, following her gaze. “Vie has exceptional hearing.”
The two ancient Corgis sat up straight, their ears pricked forward. They ambled over the slippery tile floor to the stool placed conveniently next to the sofa bench upon which they were permitted to climb and to bark vociferously at whoever came up the walk. A growl could be heard forming as they labored to climb onto the stool and then onto the faded chintz bench.
“Three different cars,” Vie revealed. The dogs began to bark. Vie bounded to her feet and headed for the door leading to the back deck. “From the sound of the engines, that’s Jared’s Jimmy, the chief’s pickup and, if I’m not mistaken, Rick’s father has replaced his damaged Mustang.”
Beckley rose to follow after her and she swung around. “No, Beckley. You have to hide.” She waved him toward the pantry door. “In there. At least stand in the door out of the way. Otherwise, you’ll be touched. Jared is one of those men who shakes your hand and pats your shoulder at the same time—a double whammy. Rick has been taught excellent manners, so he will try to shake your hand too even though he’s just a kid. Then there’s Sam. Dang. Stay out of his way. The chief doesn’t trust anyone who won’t shake his hand. Suzy will probably try to hug you… I expect Arlee is the only one who will keep her hands to herself. But then, you never know. She’s met you before and she likes you and she’ll probably follow Rick’s lead. Geez, it will be a bloody minefield in here until they are all settled in chairs and only then can you come out.”
Finally, they could all hear the vehicles in the driveway above the sound of the dogs. Dr. Hume lifted the Corgis down and shooed them over beside his son who had moved into the pantry as directed.
“Careful, Dad,” Beckley said, stepping backward and almost sitting down on a large sack of potatoes. “Don’t forget not to touch me.”
“Right. Right. Who are these people?” his father whispered. Beckley closed his eyes at him as Vie called out the answer from twenty feet away.
“Suzy is my cousin. Jared is her fiancé, though she doesn’t have a ring yet. Arlee is Jared’s daughter. Rick is Arlee’s boyfriend. And Sam is the Chief of Police of Port Grange. We are one of the founding families.”
“Vie can hear everything,” Beckley reminded him.
“That’s not what you said before. First she can’t hear anything, now she can hear everything,” his father grumbled in a good-natured way. “What’s next?”
“You are about to find out,” Beckley replied, handing over a box of peanut butter cookies. “Mom will probably want these.”
“I don’t think treats is what she has in mind,” his father said, taking the box before he turned back to face the kitchen and family room. “I don’t doubt that she’s thinking about how to feed nine people supper when we planned on having canned chicken noodle soup, crackers and cheese.”
Beckley watched from the pantry door while these strangers, except for Arlee, who waved at him and smiled a shy welcome, filed through from the front of the house. Arlee sat down on the dog’s bench. Bonnie and Clyde rushed over to be adored. Every few seconds she looked at the window beside her and winced. There was no one there. No one Beckley could see, that is. A handsome young blond man dressed all in black took notice. He spoke a few quiet words to her. She nodded and smiled gratefully. He caressed her cheek and then went over to close the plantation blinds. Beckley wondered what she could see but then decided he didn’t want to know. Whatever it was occurred in the past and couldn’t hurt them anymore.
“I cannot believe you are all here,” Vie said, pointing them toward chairs and sofas. “Jared, please, sit here. Suzy, beside him. Everyone, this is Dr. Angela Hume and Dr. George Hume, Beckley’s parents.”
Everyone said hello and shook hands. The Doctors Hume welcomed them into their home and passed around the plate of cookies. With the pleasantries completed Suzy turned to her cousin.
“I don’t know why you thought I would just sit back and do nothing after you warned me like that.” Suzy appeared to be a year or so younger than Vie. She had wavy chestnut hair, a pert smile and a slender, vibrant frame. “You rushed home from Jakarta to help us—we’re just returning the favor.” She looked around. “Where is Beckley?”
“I’ve got him stashed away until everyone is settled,” Vie said, standing before them and waving back toward the kitchen. Beckley shook his head and smiled. She made him sound like a jack-in-the-box who would pop out of hiding in an instant, startling everyone.
“Violet?” Chief Todd said, leaning over the arm of the couch and staring Beckley in the eye. He had a voice like Sam Eliot’s. His darkly tanned skin gave him the appearance of someone who spent most of his days out of doors. He was very tall and lean, appearing to be almost forty. Beckley discovered he did not like it when anyone other than himself called Vie by her full name. “Is that your new guide lurking in the kitchen pantry?”
“He’s not lurking, Sam,” Vie said.
Sam?
He’s not an old boyfriend or anything. At one time we were sure he was going to be family. He and my cousin Delphinia were an item in school. Everyone thought he’d propose to her when she graduated.
And he didn’t?
No one knows. Delph went off and became a supermodel and Sam joined the Marines.
Your cousin is that Delphinia?
Down, boy.
“Beckley?” Vie said, calling him to her.
He moved out of the pantry doorway and over to her side. His parents sat in two of the dining room chairs beside the old sofa bench where Arlee and Rick were sitting, holding hands. Bonnie and Clyde sat at their feet. Sam perched on the edge of the sofa, his knees spread, his elbows on his knees and his uniform hat between his big hands. Suzy and her fiancé, Jared, shared the loveseat that normally faced the sofa but had been moved outward at an angle so the sofa bench and kitchen chairs could be included in a large circle. Jared was a tall man with wavy black hair and blue eyes similar to his daughter’s. He had an open, honest countenance. Shrewd intelligence lingered in his friendly gaze. Jared, Rick and the chief began to rise at Beckley’s approach.
“Whoa, there,” Vie said, holding out her hands to them, palms forward. “You three sit right back down. No one is to touch Beckley. Is that clear?”
“We just wanted to shake the man’s hand, Violet,” Sam said smoothly. “We wanted to congratulate him on making it through the first week with you still in one piece.”
“Hey!” Suzy cried in immediate defense of her cousin. Then she spoiled it by adding, “Most of them last two weeks at least.”
“How long former guides survived is a moot point because I’m the last guide Vie will ever need,” Beckley stated with calm assurance. That raised a few eyebrows. The chief’s gaze narrowed and intensified.
“Hah!” Arlee chimed in. She laughed, making her corkscrew curls bounce. “I knew you were the right one. Maybe I’m clairvoyant too.”
“Heaven forbid,” Jared muttered.
“We don’t understand,” his mother said, confusion warring with irritation.
“Arlee conducted the preliminary interviews for my current position,” Beckley explained. “I was one of only five applicants.”
“The others were all losers,” Arlee claimed, making a face.
Vie waited for the group to settle down. A thrill had passed through her when he’d publicly staked his claim on her. No one was fooled by his talk of the guide position—except Arlee perhaps. Then she caught the girl’s eye and realized Arlee approved and hadn’t been deceived either. Vie reached over and set her hand on Beckley’s shoulder. Everyone stopped talking and focused on her, watching her every movement.
“Speaking of additional talents, I wanted to let you all know that I have one,” Vie said. Eyes widened but they didn’t say a word. “Beckley also has a talent. He can view auras.”
“For real?” Jared asked, looking skeptical. “I thought that was a bogus talent. Something that wacko spiritualists believed in.”
Suzy nudged him. “Open mind, remember? There are lots of talents in the world that we don’t understand or even know about.” She turned to Beckley. “How much can you really tell about a person by viewing their auras? Don’t their aura colors change according to their mood?”
“Somewhat,” Beckley admitted. “Their base colors do not change, though, unless they make a significant change in their lives, or if they become ill, mentally or physically. Or, likewise, more healthy. There may be overlapping colors indicating a person is lying, or worried, or in love.”
“I’m willing to be convinced,” Jared said, exchanging telling glances with Sam.
“Indeed, Mr. Owens,” Dr. Hume said, his tone reproachful. “My son has been able to view auras since he was a young child. It is a skill he inherited from his mother’s side of the family.”
“Right, now that we’ve got that settled,” Vie said, her nostrils flaring at Jared who raised his eyebrow at her but remained silent. “Beckley is going to view your auras. This is not meant as an invasion of your privacy. We need to check something before I explain further. Does anyone object?”
“This is so cool,” Rick said, nodding immediately. “Go ahead. Read me first.”
She turned to Beckley and raised her eyebrows. He gave a single short nod.
Beckley stood beside Vie and examined everyone’s curious and worried expressions. That they would travel here, determined to help, spoke volumes about their character and the type of family she came from. He sharpened his focus and paused for a moment to bask in the flavor of Vie’s aura. It washed over him, surrounding him with instant, glorious pleasure. Her self-confidence buoyed him up, supporting his belief that they were going to stop Watcher-man. He pushed through the joy and concentrated on everyone else in the room. Their first concern was that no interloper was crashing their council of war. No wedge-shaped indications of energy interference appeared. Thank God for that. Whatever had pulled Watcher-man’s attention away from them must still be a factor in his absence.
When he viewed Suzy’s aura he was not surprised to discover that a lavender layer surrounded her body, shot through with turquoise. He felt confident now in his assessment of this aural phenomenon. These combinations and locations of colors indicated a person with the same talent to “look” back in time as Vie’s.
“What do you see?” Rick asked eagerly.
Beckley focused on the young man and his expression softened. The boy was in love—the type of love that lasted forever. However, he doubted that Rick wanted this announced to the entire room. His parents looked very similar to the last time he had viewed them except for the anxiety riddling their energies. Arlee’s aura was bright with love and no longer overlaid with fear—no surprise there, he thought. He looked at Jared and then the chief’s. In spite of their skepticism, both men’s auras shone strong and sure.
“You are all yourselves,” he announced.
“What the heck is that supposed to mean?” Chief Todd demanded, glaring first at Beckley and then at Vie.
“Sam, calm down,” Vie said. She waited until the stir quieted. “Now, while we are free of mental hitchhikers, I’ll tell you about my new talent. We’ve discovered that I am a telepath.”
“I’m so glad your dad let me come,” Rick said quietly to Arlee, breaking the stunned silence. “This is amazing!”
“My hearing is just as good as it’s always been,” Vie said, staring at the boy. Rick grinned back, unrepentant.
“You can read our minds?” Jared asked, his eyes big.
“Put’s Beckley’s talent into perspective, doesn’t it?” Vie taunted, still annoyed with him for challenging the talent of aura reading. She swept the room with a reassuring glance. “I’m not sure how strong my talent is. I can ‘listen’ to Beckley and we’re pretty confident that part of the reason I hear so well is that I’m actually reading minds at the same time.”
“Though, we were standing in her kitchen when she heard my vibrating phone in the guest room down the hall. It was in my coat pocket. That was purely phenomenal hearing.”
“Yah, she’s pulled that one on me before too,” Suzy said absently, her eyes blinking rapidly as she assimilated this new concept.
Vie, can you hear me?
Yes, Suzy. I can.
“Well, son of a gun,” Suzy whispered aloud. “Say something to everyone now.”
Vie aimed her word choice at each person individually. Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.
“Whoa,” Rick and Arlee said together.
Sam’s lips quirked up at one corner. Beckley’s parents looked around furtively as if unwilling to admit that they’d heard the famous nonsense word in their minds.
“Don’t do that again,” Jared ordered sternly and then laughed and added, “Not unless you’re willing to sing the whole song.”
Everyone chuckled.
“Why now, though? Why have you never spoken to me before?” Suzy asked while giving her fiancé a playful swat on the thigh.
“I guess I just never tried to,” Vie offered, her hand coming up to play with the curls at her nape. “I’m not sure, really. I have to concentrate to send and to listen. I expect the more I practice, the better I’ll get. It’s all new to me.”
“Me. Me. Try to listen to my thoughts,” Rick begged, raising his free hand and moving to the edge of his seat. “I’m thinking of a number between one and ten.”
“Pi? Really?” Vie said, unthinkingly taking her hand off Beckley’s shoulder so she could put both of them on her hips. “I expected something like that from Dr. Hume, not you.”
“Wow,” Rick breathed.
“Do you think something may have triggered this talent?” Jared asked, frowning. “Never mind. It doesn’t really matter right now. This is…I don’t know. I don’t know what to think about it. I’m…”
“Flummoxed?” Dr. Hume suggested.
His wife sat silently beside him, her hand across her mouth while her fingers tapped out a random rhythm on her cheek. Vie could tell Angie was thinking heavy thoughts and she didn’t even have to try to read her to know that.
“Yes, thank you. Excellent word choice,” Jared praised in a hollow voice. “I was probably going for freaked out. Flummoxed sounds so much less paranoid somehow. It doesn’t make me sound like someone who places a tin foil cap on his head to protect himself from mind probes.”
Beckley’s father waved his hand in acknowledgement of the compliment.
“I like ‘freaked out’,” Arlee offered. Though her boyfriend looked so excited he might be ready to bounce off the walls, she seemed a little pale. “That exactly explains how I’m feeling right now.”
“You don’t have to be worried that I’m like Mel Gibson in that movie where he hears women’s thoughts whether he wants to or not,” Vie soothed. “I don’t even hear random thoughts unless they are directed at me somehow. And even then—look, I’m just figuring this all out too, so don’t everybody go off the deep end worrying about this.”
“Violet Tine, you don’t do anything by halves, do you?” Sam drawled, scraping his hand across his chin.
Vie felt like punching someone. Instead, she glared at everyone in turn and unclenched her fists. “Now listen here, I didn’t even realize I had this talent before Beckley figured it out. He’s a great receiver, you might say. He can’t send worth a damn—nothing more than about eight feet away. I tried sending the message to Suzy that we were going to be late and she never got it. So, you see, I’m still the same old Vie.” She realized she was breathing hard and made a conscious effort to slow it down. The mixed reaction to her revelation flustered Vie. Her plan had been to lay out the events of the last week in an orderly fashion as befitting a professional private investigator. “I don’t want to be treated any differently and I wouldn’t have told you at all—okay, I probably would have told Suzy and then she would have told Jared—if I didn’t need to tell you about this next part.”
“What next part?” Suzy asked, her voice calm, her gaze steady.
“Is this the part where you explain about being mind-stalked?” Angie demanded. She clenched her hands together in her lap. “I think we’ve been very patient so far. However, George and I must insist that you tell us what mind-stalking is now.”
Stunned silence greeted her words. Finally, Jared said, “Excuse me?” He looked from Beckley’s mother to Vie.
Arlee shivered. “Not again.”
“It will be all right,” Rick murmured.
“Mind-stalking?” Sam repeated. “What the heck is mind-stalking and who is the victim?”
“We are,” Vie announced, then added a caveat. “Beckley, actually, since I seem to be immune to the bastard’s attempts to be in my mind.”
“By who?” Sam asked. His eyes lit up. “A ghost?”
“No, not a ghost. Dang, Sam. You and your ghosts,” Vie said, pushing her hand through her hair.
Dr. Hume interrupted, displaying a great deal of impatience. “You still haven’t explained what mind-stalking is.” He patted his wife’s arm. “All this stress isn’t good for Angie.”
His wife snorted delicately. “Please, Ms. Tine. Beckley?”
Vie took a deep breath, expelled it and said, “Mind-stalking is when someone is in your mind, talking to you and refusing to leave you alone until you force him or her out. We made up the term. Comparatively, my telepathic talent is miniscule. This guy has been attempting to force Beckley to rape me, to murder me and, get this, he wanted Beckley to break all my kitty plates.”
Suzy and Arlee both gasped.
“I know, right?” Vie said, shaking her head in disgust. “This jerk is some sicko.”
“Are you sure it’s not a ghost? How do you know?” Sam asked.
“He said he is alive,” Beckley replied. This round tale was not proceeding as smoothly or in as linear a fashion as they had hoped. All attention switched to him. “We don’t know his name so we call him Watcher-man. He agreed to play Twenty Questions with us earlier today and one of the questions we asked was if he was a living man. His answer was yes.”
“What’s that all about?” Jared asked. “Why would he agree to play Twenty Questions with you?”
“Look, we have to start at the beginning. None of this is going to make sense if we just throw stuff at you piecemeal,” Vie said with a growl of frustration.
“Exactly,” Beckley began, interrupting the beginning of a disagreement over the methodology of storytelling. His father believed that starting with the conclusion had long been a proven technique for delivering ideas. He stood virtually alone in his assertion, however. Beckley looked down at the floor and shook his head in disbelief. Maybe they should just refuse to allow anyone to speak until they had finished recounting their tale.
I believe we were at question seven.