Sidney Sheldon - Windmills Of The Gods

She taught five political science classes in addition to the graduate seminar, and each of them dealt with the Soviet Union and its satellite countries. At times she felt like a fraud. I’ve never been to any of the countries I teach about, she thought. I’ve never even been outside the United States.

Mary had planned a trip abroad when she received her master’s degree, but that summer she met Edward Ashley, and the European trip turned into a three-day honeymoon at Waterville, fifty-five miles from junction City, where Edward was taking care of a critical heart patient.

“We really must travel next year,” Mary said to Edward shortly after they were married. “I’m dying to see Rome and Paris and Remania.”

“So am I. It’s a date. Next summer.”

But that following summer Beth was born, and Edward was caught up in his work at the Geary Community Hospital. Two years later Tim was born. Mary had gotten her Ph.D. and gone back to teaching at Kansas State University, and somehow the years had melted away. Except for brief trips to Chicago, Atlanta, and Denver, Mary had never been out of the state of Kansas.

One day, she promised herself. One day …

Mary gathered her notes together, put on her coat and a scarf, and headed out to her car. As she passed Denison Hall a stranger with a Nikon camera aimed it at the building and pressed the shutter. Mary was in the foreground of the picture. One hour later the photograph was on its way to Washington, D.C.

EVERY town has its own distinctive rhythm, a life pulse that springs from the people and the land. Junction City, in Geary County, is a farm community one hundred and thirty miles west of Kansas City. It prides itself on being the geographical center of the continental United States. The downtown shopping area consists of scattered stores, fast-food chains, and gas stations-the types of establishments that are duplicated-n hundreds of small towns across America. But the residents of junction City love it for its bucolic peace and tranquillity. On weekdays, at least. Weekends, junction City becomes the rest-and-recreation center for the soldiers at nearby Fort Riley.

MARY Ashley stopped to shop for dinner at Dillon’s Market and then headed home. The Ashleys lived in an eight-room,stone house set in the middle of gently rolling hills. It had been bought by Dr. Edward Ashley and his bride thirteen years earlier.

“It’s awfully large for just two people,” Mary Ashley had protested when they’d first taken a look at it.

And Edward had taken her into his arms and held her close. “Who said It’s going to be for only two people?”

When she walked in the door this evening, Tim and Beth ran to greet her.

“Guess what?” Tim said. “We’re going to have our pictures in the paper!”

“Help me put away the groceries,” Mary said. “What paper?”

“The man didn’t say, but he said we’d hear from him.”

Mary stopped and turned to look at her son. “Did he say why?”

“No,” Tim said. “But he sure had a nitty Nikon.”

ON SUNDAY, Mary celebrated-although that was not the word that sprang to her mind-her thirty-five birthday. Edward had’ arranged a surprise party for her at the country club. Their neighbors, Florence and Douglas Schiller, and four other couples were waiting for her. Edward was as delighted as a small child at the look of amazement on Mary’s face when she walked into the club and saw the festive table and the happy birthday banner. After dinner, as Mary blew out the candles on her cake, she looked across at Edward and thought, How lucky can a lady be?

Monday morning she awoke with a headache. There had been a lot of champagne toasts the night before. She eased her way out of bed and went down to the kitchen, where she set about preparing breakfast for the children.

Beth, Mary’s twelve-year-old daughter, walked into the room carrying an armful of books.

Mary put a box of cereal on the table. “I bought a new cereal for you. You’re going to like it.”

Beth sat dowti at the kitchen table and studied the label on the cereal box. “I can’t eat this. You’re trying to kill me.”

“Don’t put any ideas in my head,”. her mother cautioned.

Tim, Mary’s ten-year-old, ran into the kitchen. He slid into a chair at the table and said, “I’ll have bacon and eggs.”

“Whatever happened to good morning?” Mary asked. “Good morning. I’ll have bacon and eggs. Can I go to the skating rink after school, Mom?”

“You’re to come right home and study. Mrs. Reynolds called me. You’re failing math. How do you think it looks for a college professor to have a son who’s failing math?”

“It looks okay. You don’t teach math.”

They talk about the terrible twos, Mary thought grimly. What about the terrible nines, tens, elevens, and twelves?

She had packed a lunch for each of them, but she was concerned about Beth, wtio was on some kind of crazy new diet. “Please, Beth, eat all of your lunch today.”

“If it has no artificial preservatives. I’m not going to let the greed of the food industry ruin my health.”

Whatever happened to the good old days of junk food? Mary wondered.

Tim plucked a loose paper from one of Beth’s notebooks. “Look at this!” he yelled. “‘Dear Beth, Let’s sit together during study period. I thought of you all day yesterday and-“$

“Give that back to me!” Beth screamed. “Thaes mine!”

“Hey! It’s signe. “Virgil.” I thought you were in love with Arnold.”

Beth snatched the note away from him. “What would you know about love? You’re a child.”

At that moment they heard the horn of the school bus outside. Tim and Beth started toward the door.

“Wait! You haven’t eaten your breakfasts,” Mary said. She followed them out into the hallway.

“No time, Mother. Got to go.”

“Bye, Mom.”

And they were gone.

Mary, feeling drained, looked up as Edward came down the stairs.

“Morning, darling,” he said.

“Sweetheart, would you do me a favor?”

“Sure, beautiful.” He gave her a kiss. “Anything.”

“want to sell the children.”

“Who’d buy them?”

“Strangers. They’ve reached the age where I can’t do anything right. Beth has become a health-food freak, and your son is turning into a world-class dunce.”

Edward said thoughtfully, “Maybe they’re not our kids.”

“I hope not. I’m making oatmeal for you.”

“Sorry, darling. No time. I’m due in surgery in half an hour.”

Mary looked at Edwaid and felt a glow. Even after all these years, she thought, he’s still the most attractive man I’ve ever known.

“I may decide to keep the kids, after all,” she said. “I like their father a lot.”

“To tell you the truth,” said Edward, “I’m rather fond of their, mother.” He took her in his arms.

MARY and Edward left the house together, bowing their heads against the relentless wind. Edward strapped himself into his Ford Granada and watched Mary as she got behind the wheel of the station wagon.

“Drive carefully, sweetheart,” Edward called.

“You too, darling.” She blew him a kiss, and the two cars drove away from the house, Edward heading toward the hospital and Mary toward the university.

Two men parked half a block from the Ashley house waited until the vehicles were out of sight. “Let’s go.”

They drove up to the house next door to the Ashleys’. The driver sat in the cilr while his companion walked up to the front door and rang -the bell. The door was opened by an attractive brunette in her middle thirties.

“Mrs. Douglas Schiller?”

“Yes?”

The man reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out an identification card. “My name is Donald Zamlock. I’m with the Security Agency of the State Department. I want to ask you a few questions about your neighbor, Mrs. Ashley.”