"I have fought the good fight"

"For I am already being poured out like a drink offering, and the time has come for my departure. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith," the minister’s voice intones from Paul’s second letter to Timothy. The wind is whipping his black robes about him, and icy rain is soaking Cassie’s best dress. Tony sniffs suspiciously as Ralph’s casket is lowered into the plot in the Presidio’s cemetery, and Uncle Alex hands him a starched handkerchief.

There are about fifteen people here today, who have braved the pouring rain to see Ralph laid to rest. Among them are Cassie and Tony; surprisingly also here are museum board member Marcia Thompson and industrialist Jack Harrison. Marcia had noted Cassie’s presence with a small nod before the ceremony – spare, with only a few Biblical phrases, according to Ralph’s will – had begun.

Ralph never recovered from the fight with the dhole, and quietly slipped into a coma two weeks later. He hadn’t responded to Cassie’s healing, and his family waited two months before deciding to take him off of life support.

Jack Harrison is standing with Ralph’s son, speaking quietly as the ceremony ends. Ralph’s son – David Armitage, a distinguished Navy captain in his early 40s whom Cassie hasn’t met yet, is nodding at something the handsome man is saying.

"I had no idea Ralph was in the Army," Tony says numbly. "Let alone his being a colonel during World War 2. Or that he led safaris in Africa. Or that he had a lifetime membership in the Miskatonic University Rod and Gun Club, whatever that is."

"Or that he was the mysterious benefactor of all those Degas paintings the museum received anonymously a few months back," Alex states, quoting the Examiner’s euology.

"Or that he had such an attractive son," Michael adds, staring at Captain Armitage. "I think he’s the captain of an aircraft carrier, based somewhere in the east." Alex elbows him sharply.

"All men in uniform look handsome, Michael," Cassie says, glancing over at Armitage. "You should have seen Uncle Alex when he came to our Halloween party as Colonel Klink from Stalag 17."

"I was not Colonel Klink, I was Rommel," Alex sputters. "There is a huge difference."

Tony pipes in, "And Colonel Klink is from Hogan’s Heroes, not Stalag 17."

"The monocle made you look like Colonel Klink," Cassie says. "Didn't Ralph lend you that monocle?"

"Yes, he said he used it to fool Rommel while he was campaigning in North Africa. I believe it was some sort of disagreement over an ancient Egyptian artifact. Rommel said it belonged to the Third Reich, spoils of war. Ralph disagreed so he stole it from under Rommel's nose. He said the monocle helped compliment his German accent when he explained to Rommel that he was a member of Reich's department of antiquities here to pick up the artifact. Then he just walked off with it," Alex says, wiping tears from his eyes as he tries to hold back a laugh. "Thank you, Cassie, for reminding me of that story. I'd forgotten about it. Ralph - speaking German with a monocle......Damn, I'm going to miss him."

"We all are uncle, we all are," Cassie says, tears welling in up in her eyes. I won't cry, Cassie thinks. I promised myself I wouldn't cry at the funeral. Ralph wouldn't have wanted us all bawling our eyes out. She blinks them back as she says, "But we should always remember the good times we had with Ralph. I just wish I had a little more time to spend with him...."

Marcia Thompson approaches Cassie a few minutes later. "Thank you for coming, dear. I had no idea that you’d known Ralph for so long. It doesn’t surprise me much, though. You’re his kind of people," she says with a wistful smile. Something about the way she looks at Cassie makes her wonder what the connection between Ralph and the aristocratic admiral’s daughter was. Well, Cassie thinks, at least someone on the de Young’s board is still speaking to me politely. After saving Ponte’s life, the best she’d gotten from the old man was a gruff "thanks," and his grudging support at the emergency meeting called to deal with the VIPER fiasco. At least I haven’t been fired…yet. Museum curatorships are few and far between these days. And paranoia’s been running even higher against paranormals since Knightblade disappeared. Not so good that his secret ID, Tyler McBain, has also been missing – along with $2 million in high tech materials -- for the same period of time, either, Cassie inwardly sighs.

I hope he's just gone underground to avoid VIPER, Cassie thinks. But that missing equipment, geez, Knightblade, what were you thinking, you should have gone to Radio Shack if you needed some replacement parts for the suit...

"His will is to be read tonight, at midnight, at the house," Marcia Thompson interrupts Cassie’s thoughts. You three are named in the will, and are requested to attend."

"Um, thank you for telling us," Cassie says stumbling over her words. "I didn't realize that you knew Ralph. He could be very secretive at times and he never really talked to us about his past or his friends. I'm glad to know that you and he were friends."

Cassie talks with Marcia for a few moments more before walking back over to Tony. "We're supposed to go to the reading of his will tonight."

"Yes, the lawyer just told us, midnight," Tony says. "Leave it to Ralph to have is will read at midnight in a Victorian house. Are you OK, Cassie?"

While Tony had been talking, Cassie thoughts had been wandering. "Oh, I'm fine, just thinking about Ralph. Why don't you go back to the car, I just want to say a few words of goodbye to Ralph."

A few moments later, standing by the grave, Cassie finds it hard to form words to her goodbye.

"You know I really don't know what to say, Ralph. I mean I just always thought you'd be there. I figured you'd be around to see our kids and tell them scary stories on Halloween. I thought you'd at least be around until Tony could get his golf game to a 3 below par and we know that wouldn’t happen any time in this century," Cassie says with a laugh. "I'm going to miss you Ralph. There's so much that happened. I even changed my costume. Spandex, it covers everything. Just like you suggested....I wish that I could have helped you, Ralph. I'm sorry that I couldn't heal you. I tried, but I'm finding that I can't solve all the world's problems," Cassie sniffs as tears wash down her face. "See now, I'm crying and I don't think you want to see me crying. My eyes get all puffy and my nose gets red. It's a terrible sight." Cassie blows her nose into a hanky that Tony had lent her. "I like to think that you’re up there right now with God explaining to him everything about the Dholes and how we had to stop that great evil. We got the hostages back. They're all OK and we stopped the guy who started the whole thing. Arrested him at the airport. You would have loved to see that. Protector punched him out! Can you believe that?! Well, I've got to go now, but I promise to come back and tell you everything that happens. But you, you take care of yourself and don't drive God crazy with your antics. You never now, maybe he'll let you come back to Earth and fight evil with the likes of Gabriel and Michael. I can see it now, Ralph - the angel that packs a shotgun."

Michael drives Alex, Cassie and Tony to Ralph’s mansion in his new Lexus – "He’s ridiculously proud of this car," Alex says.

"I want one!" Tony proclaims from the backseat.

"This week he wants a Lexus. Last week he wanted a Jeep," Cassie whispers to Alex. "Was Michael like that before he bought his new car?"

"Even worse," Alex whispers back. "At one time he actually talked about getting a pink Humvee. I think he wanted it for shock value and he said something about being able to enter the annual Haight Ashbury Halloween parade as 'Schwarzenagger'. I was relieved when he settled on the Lexus."

There are four cars in Ralph’s driveway when the four arrive. "I’ll wait here, in the car," Michael says. Though Alex protests, Michael refuses to budge.

Outside, as the three dash to the door in the pouring rain, Alex admits, "He’s always been a little scared of this house, I believe."

Reaching the door, Cassie collapses her umbrella. "Yeah, in the right light this house can be really spooky. Secretly I always thought that Ralph should have a butler that looks like 'Lurch' from the Addams' Family. I could just seem answer the door and say, 'Won't you come in?"

"Please, come in," Captain Armitage says, opening the door before Tony’s fist can reach the door knocker. "Terrible weather, we’re having. You must be Alex," he says, shaking Cassie’s uncle’s hand, "And you must be Cassie and Tony. Father mentioned you to me in his recent letters. Said it would be my job to teach you proper golf, whatever he meant by that." David Armitage smiles.

"Your father was a great friend to all of us," Cassie says. "We'll all miss him. I'll miss him. If there is anything I can do...."

In the parlor, Cassie sees Ralph’s lawyer, Ernest Humboldt, seated behind the desk. Also in attendance are Marcia Thompson, Jack Harrison, and a woman that Cassie has never seen before – a lovely woman in her twenties with blonde, curly hair and gray eyes. Like the others, she is wearing black, though she also wears a scarf to cover her hair. Curled up on the settee next to her is a small girl, fast asleep. There’s something familiar about her, though Cassie can’t quite place it. As soon as she and Tony sit down, however, Humboldt begins.

"As you all know," he says, as the clock in the corner begins striking twelve, "You are here tonight for the reading of the last will and testament of…" He drones on into legalese.

It’s so warm in the parlor, that Cassie has a hard time not drifting off to sleep. Next to her, a fire crackles and pops in the fireplace. After a few minutes, though, she’s jolted awake when the attorney begins names Armitage.

"To my son, David Armitage. Dear boy, you will never know how proud I am of you. To you I leave my homes and their collections, with the following exceptions.

"To Marcia Thompson I leave the 1929 Steinway concert grand piano in the ballroom. Dearest, you will never know how much I longed to hear you play it again." Cassie’s glance at Marcia Thompson shows that the society matron is fighting back tears and losing.

"To Jack Harrison, my oldest and dearest friend: yours is the Tommy gun under my bed" Harrison snorts in laughter at this – "As are the contents of the safe in my Cambridge home; you are the only one who appreciates the dangers those items present.

"To Cassandra Salvatore I leave the Michaelanglo sketch and the earrings I acquired years ago in Turkey, when ‘the city’ was still called Constantinople.

"For her husband, Anthony Salvatore, I leave my golf clubs, cart, and cottage in St. Andrews, that you might better acquire love and respect for the game." Tony snorts, but his eyes gleam.

"Ralph will make sure you break par even if he has to come down to heaven to do it," Cassie whispers in Tony's ear.

"To Alex Papadopolis, I leave my collection of Greek pottery." Uncle Alex’s eyes bulge wide; he’d often lauded Ralph’s collection, which is priceless.

"And for Moira Rennie – child, it seems like only yesterday you were criticizing my translation of the Odyssey, though it must have been twenty years ago, for you were only eight. To you I leave my manuscripts, which I have put in the care of Ernest, as well as the sword in my study. Remember that I, of all people, understand your choice."

The attorney clears his throat. "That concludes the reading of the will. If any of you have questions regarding its reading, I am at your disposal."

With the attorney's closing words, the silence that overhung the small gathering in Ralph's study is broken by the scraping of chairs being pushed back and the low voices in conversation.

Cassie whispers a few words to Tony, who gets up and heads over toward Captain Armitage.

"Captain Armitage, my wife and I wanted to let you know that you have a standing invitation to have dinner at our house anytime you are in port. And any weekend you have free, there's a great 18-hole course near our house. If you like to play?"

While Tony talks to Armitage, Cassie moves over to speak with Moira Rennie.

"Ms. Rennie, I'm so glad that I've gotten a chance to met you, though I wish it could have been under much different circumstances," Cassie says looking at the young woman. She's much young than I thought she would be, Cassie thinks. She must be very gifted to have mastered ancient languages.

"I’m pleased to meet you as well," she says, extending a hand. "You must be Cassie? Ralph mentioned you in his recent letters – said you shared our interest in the bizarre. Congratulations on your recent marriage," she adds, nodding to Tony with a smile. "I’ve seen your pictures."

"Yes, we really tried to make it a memorable event," Cassie says with a smile. "I was only disappointed that we couldn't get Tony a rhinestone-studded jumpsuit for the ceremony."

Moira laughs heartily, but blushes slightly and lowers her voice as everyone in the room turns to look at her. "When I married, my husband was desperately seasick – we were married on a yacht in the Caribbean. He turned green and stayed that way for a week. I don’t know why he just didn’t tell me he didn’t like sailing."

"I imagine you receive a lot of dramamine for your anniversary," Cassie says, laughing.

"I’d like for you to meet my daughter, Ellen," she says, gesturing at the sleepy girl, who has her mother’s hair, though with piercing blue eyes. "Ellen, dear, shake hands with Mrs. Salvatore."

The small girl smiles with twin dimples, and shakes Cassie’s hand very firmly, before muttering something completely incomprehensible. Her mother sighs, and says, "No, dearest, in English." Ellen blushes, and says:

"I’m very pleased to meet you, Mrs. Salvatore," before burying her head in her mother’s lap in embarrassment.

"It's a pleasure to met you as well, Ellen," Cassie says. "Perhaps if you and you mother are staying overnight you'd like to stop by our house tomorrow? I know a dog that would love to have a friend to play with. That is if you have time?" Cassie says to Moira. "The invitation is open. I know our dog Lobo would lavish you both with doggie kisses. If you stop by it would give me the chance to thank you properly."

"That would really be quite lovely," Moira Rennie says. "We’ve been away from the Bay Area for quite some time, that I was hoping to have an excuse to stay an extra day," she smiles. "Also, it would be nice to reminisce about Ralph."

"I wanted to thank you and your mother, Lady Madeline Rennie, for your help deciphering that strange tome that came into the museum's possession a few months ago. Your translation helped shed light on some very puzzling circumstances. It even helped solve a series of kidnappings and saved many people."

She smiles at that. "Yes, that was how I understood it as well. A very odd business, that. I never did hear how it was finally resolved. What happened?"

"Well, it turned out that a man named Jean Thermondier - former UNTIL commander, former right hand man to Baby Doc and possibly former VIPER member was summoning spirits to kidnap these people to use in some great spell. He didn't finish it so no one is quite sure what he was going to summon. But, by using the book as bait - some members of his team were captured, the plan foiled and Thermondier was captured. PRIMUS caught him trying to leave the country with his kidnap victims in a chartered plane."

"Goodness! Mother mentioned something about Algerian terrorists, but I had no idea they’d kidnapped anyone – or was that tied into those singers who were kidnapped? I heard about that, even in Europe. Someone in the Times wrote that it was Andrew Lloyd Weber’s just punishment, having one of his singers captured during ‘Phantom.’"

"I think just punishment would have been having the whole cast of Starlight Express kidnapped during a performance," Cassie says. "At least then we wouldn't be subjected to singers on rollerskates. I hope your mother is doing well. I feel terrible that I haven't been able to write her. I trust that everything is well at the British Museum?"

"Quite fine, actually. We’ve been spending quite a bit of time in Europe recently, and I’ve been able to see her. She’s very excited about a new Moroccan exhibit they’re getting ready to open – I must say, your amulet is quite striking, and very similar to other pieces I’ve seen in the British Museum. Where did it come from?"

"Well, my husband purchased it at an auction," Cassie says, absently running her fingertips over the amulet. "We were never able to determine who was the seller. Ralph mentioned something about it being from the forges of Damascus, but the truth be known, I'm not really sure where it came from. You say the British Museum has some similar pieces? I'd be interested in seeing them. Do you think your mother could send some pictures to my e-mail address?"

"Of course, we’ll be stopping by London in a few days, and I’ll let her know then."

"Well, it's getting late. We should probably be going," Cassie says. "Do you have your own car or would you like to ride with us? Or we could just take the shortcut home. It's so late and Ellen looks like she is already asleep."

"Shortcut?" Moira says, puzzled. "No, I drove myself." Scooping Ellen up into her arms, she says, "I’m staying at the Four Seasons Clift Hotel, in room 324. Feel free to ring us up – we’ll be leaving the day after tomorrow."

"That would be great; if you want, I could take you by the museum. It's closed now for repairs since VIPER trashed it. But there are still some exhibits that were not hurt by the attack."

"Do not touch that! Uncle, I swear. Will you let me do something by myself in the kitchen?" Cassie says, rolling her eyes in exasperation.

Alex has pulled the lid of the pot on the stove and is elbowing aside his niece as he reaches for the spice rack. "Really Cassandra, I can't understand what you are thinking. Here you are, having friends of Ralph's over. People you want to survive the evening and what are you forcing on them - marcaroni and cheese. It's not even homemade, it's Kraft," Alex adds, his voice wincing in disgust.

Cassie takes advantage of the moment to blow flour over her uncle's face. Alex sputters for a moment, but drops the spices, just as Cassie had intended.

"The macaroni is for Ellen, just in case she doesn't like that Arnaki Frikassee you fixed. When I was a kid, macaroni was my favorite meal. And I only liked Kraft cheese and macaroni with nothing extra in it."

"I think you are severely underestimating my culinary talents," Alex says. "I guarantee that my dinner will sway even the most faditious child."

"Your baklava would sway anyone, but when I was a child my two favorite meals were peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and macaroni and cheese. Trust me on this. It's only a back-up plan anyway."

"Hmmm, very well, but promise you will never tell anyone that you ate Kraft macaroni and cheese. No one would believe you were my niece," Alex says, a mischievous smile crossing his face.

"Out, Out," Cassie yells, half-heartedly throwing a dish towel at her uncle. Alex ducks, but the towel manages to hit Tony right in the face as he walks through the kitchen door.

Tony pulls the offending fabric away as Cassie tries, unsuccessfully, to stifle her laughter.

"So you think you can overcome me with a wet kitchen towel, do you?" Tony says in a booming voice. "Superheroine you may be, Odyssey, but you have met your match in the GOLF PRO! Da, da, da, dum..... Like those, I added them in for atmosphere," Tony says with a wink. "I, GOLF PRO, can numb the brain with 12 hours of televised putting competition. If you survive that, my side kick, Caddy Boy will hound you relentlessly with advice like use the five wood, no, no, try the three iron."

"Stand back, GOLF PRO, or face the wrath of Odyssey who will force you to wear wool knickers when playing the back nine at the Las Vegas Invitational," Cassie replies through choked laughter.

"You won't get the chance," Tony says as he scopes up a screaming Cassie and runs into the living room.

"Stop tickling me!" Cassie gasps. "Listen, it's the doorbell."

Standing at the door is a very drenched Moira Rennie, holding a broken umbrella in one hand and Ellen under an arm. "Hi," she says, apologetically to Cassie. "Sorry I’m late -- I couldn’t find parking, and then my umbrella broke in the wind – the radio said we were having 80 mph gusts! Sorry to drip all over your floor." She steps inside, and pulls a bottle of wine from a canvas backpack. She grimaces at her image in the foyer mirror – water drips from the ends of her curls -- and hands Cassie the bottle.

"Goodness, you are soaked," Cassie says, rushing for a towel. "Here takes this. " Cassie hands her two big fluffy towels. "Why don't you come upstairs. I'm sure I've got some dry clothes that you can wear and then we can throw yours into the dryer. You'll catch a death of a cold if you stay in those."

"Tony , bottle," she adds, passing the wine to him. "Let’s go upstairs. When did this storm blow in?"

"It’s been pouring all day," Moria says, squeezing the water out of her hair. "My hotel is at Union Square, and I thought, ‘I really ought to get some shopping in while I’m here.’ Big mistake. It was crowded, and anything not in plastic bags was soaked. Including me and Ed here. They had a great deal on men’s Polo shirts at Nordstrom’s, though," she offers as an aside to Cassie. "Come here, Ed." She pulls her daughter off of Lobo. "Ew, wet dog smell. Nice one, cariad. Sorry about that, Cassie."

"Don't worry, Lobo probably needed a bath anyway. This will just motivate me to do that little faster," Cassie says. "Besides, if Ellen plays with her, maybe it will tire Lobo out. If she does that, Ellen will have accomplished the impossible."

Looking up, she says, "Hello, Alex, sorry I didn’t get a chance to say ‘hi’ to you last night, but you were busy with David Armitage. Oh, this is Michael!" she squeals. "You were so right, he’s just adorable." Extending her hand to Alex’s long time lover, she explains to Cassie and Tony, "My office was right down the road from Alex’s restaurant. I ate there at least once a week."

"More like once a day," Alex corrects, smiling.

"And of course, you’re Tony," she smiles at Cassie’s husband. "Ralph always said that when I met you, I ought to ask you about the statue David, for some reason."

"Ah that's because when we met, Cassie instantly fell in love with me, saying that I must have been Michelangelo's model for the statue," Tony says with a smirk.

"You wish. I believe I told you how lucky you were that it was I who found you standing in you underwear in the museum's new Renaissance display and not the head curator," Cassie says, laughing. "Your construction crew may have thought it was a funny joke for you to pose like the famous statue, but the museum backers wouldn't. However, I think I heard Miriam Langly say you had a nice tush. Lucky for us I convinced them that you were a Calvin Klein centerpiece for an ad campaign."

Moira raises a blond eyebrow at that. "Really? Well, I suppose there are weirder meetings," she says. "My parents met on a dig in Africa of all places – my mother fell into one of the ditches and landed on top of my father. Poor old dear has walked with a slight limp ever since."

"I imagine your father teases her, saying that 'she just fell over herself trying to meet him'?" Cassie asks.

Moira smiles. "Oh, it smells wonderful! I’m positively famished. What’s for dinner?"

"Uncle Alex has fixed one his special Greek dishes - a lamb, feta cheese and spinach salad," Cassie says. "Plus there's soup, bread and baklava for desert. I've been meaning to ask how you met Ralph. You know after I met your mom I told her that I thought Ralph would love to meet you. I said he had a lot of old books that he was always looking to get translated and I thought you would be the perfect person. Guess I was more correct than I knew," Cassie finishes with a laugh.

"I met Ralph as a child, when he came to visit my parents, in – oh, where were we then? -- Thailand, I think. He’d been working on a translation of the Odyssey, and he left it around for my father -- Daddy was a classics tutor at Oxford before he got into politics -- to read. I found it, and found that I disagreed with some of his translations – I was so sure of myself as a child – and told him so. When I started working for myself, here in San Francisco -- government work is so dreary, you know – we were able to renew our acquaintance." Moira looks at the lamb. "This looks positively wonderful, but you know, I’m a vegetarian. I’m so sorry I didn’t mention it before. I do eat cheese," she says apologetically to Alex, "and the feta looks fabulous."

"Well, we do have soup - it's bean - and I made macaroni and cheese as a back up," Cassie says.

"It's Kraft," Alex adds with a smile. "My neice says it's better than homemade."

"It's the cheesiest," Cassie replies. "It's about the only thing I feel safe making. Unfortunately for Tony, I didn't inherit my uncle's cooking ability. So we'll have to keep sponging of his restaurant anytime we want something besides take-out or microwave dinners."

"I should be fine with the feta and spinach salad, actually," Moira smiles. "Though I imagine Ed’s interested in the Kraft – she’s not much into anything complicated, food-wise, yet. Kevin -- my husband -- tried to take her for Indian food, and she was sick all night long," Moira shudders in memory.

"So tell me, Cassie," she asks in between bites, as Ellen spoons macaroni and cheese into her mouth (and onto her lap, which Lobo promptly retrieves), "How did you get mixed up in that whole museum business? You were quite in the thick of things, as Mother tells it." "You didn't hear?" Cassie asks, swallowing a mouthful of salad. "Oh, this is fun. I actually get to tell someone, not have them hear it over the tv news, or on a tabloid show or read it in the Inquirer."

"Cassie, you’re being persnickety," Alex warns.

Moira shrugs. "I’ve been traveling for the past few months, and I haven’t paid too much attention to the news, I’m afraid. I am horribly out of touch."

"I'm sorry. Having reporters camped out on my doorstep for two weeks has made me rather touchy on the subject," her mouth makes a small moue of distaste. "Oh, where to begin. Well, I guess the first thing you should now is that I was the secret heroine Odyssey. Not so secret now since that debacle at the museum a few weeks ago. However, about a month and a half ago, Tony, Alex and I were attending the Phantom of the Opera when we saw one of the singers kidnapped. We tried to find out what happened and in the process of investigating met Knightblade and Protector. One thing led to another and PRIMUS, who was really overburdened at the time consented to let us help in the investigation. Then Ralph called me up, said he knew something about the kidnappings. One thing lead to another, we discovered the book and that's when I meet your mom."

"That certainly does explain things," Moira says.

"What I really regret out of the whole thing is not insisting that Ralph not come with us when we checked out that old house on the point. That's where he got injured and nothing that I did could heal him completely."

"Ralph was 97," Moira says. "He’d lived a good life, and loved well, he always said." Holding up her wine glass, she says, "To Ralph."

"To Ralph, the only man I know who could give fashion criticism when facing a 100-foot tall worm," Cassie says, lifting up a wine glass.

"To Ralph, the only man I knew who had a 2 handicap," Tony adds.

"To Ralph, who had the best culinary tastes and never missed a Sunday evening dinner at my restaurant," Alex finishes.

"Dinner was delicious," she says to Alex. "And thanks for the Kraft for Ed, Cassie. If you ever find yourselves in Europe, please don’t hesitate to get in contact with me. I have been traveling, so I don’t have much of a static address, but you can always get in contact with me through e-mail." She writes her address down and hands it to Cassie.

"Thank you for coming over. Here takes these leftovers with you for the plane ride. Airline food stinks," Cassie hands Moira several tupperware containers. "It was great to reminisce with you about Ralph."

"Have safe trip," Tony says as he, Cassie and Alex escort Moira to the door.

"Thank you all again," she calls, as she and Ellen leave.

PBEM Turns