Рита Браун - Probable Claws

“True, but Felipe, dinosaurs and whatever aren’t coming back,” Raynell calmly replied. “I don’t see that happening.”

“We don’t know. What if the earth permanently tips just one percent more away from the sun or toward the sun? Think what could happen.”

“It is fascinating.” Harry thought it was.

“I guess it is, but I’m more concerned with saving and improving the environment for, say, hummingbirds, raptors, even elk if they release them into the mountains down in Lee County.” Raynell mentioned a Virginia county at its southwestern corner, a poor county but so beautiful.

Harry glanced again at the pile of papers and couldn’t help herself. She flicked through a few of them.

“Funny. Gary had this article in his files.”

“What’s that?” Raynell asked.

“This one.” Harry pulled out an article about why frogs survived when dinosaurs died en masse. “This one that states that eighty-eight percent of frogs on earth today began to flourish, just bred their little hearts out, after the dinosaurs died off.”

“I haven’t read that one,” Felipe said, and smiled when Raynell handed the article to him. “Well, I better show frogs new respect.”

“I read the article in Gary’s file box. Couldn’t help myself. As I recall the theory is that frogs survived because they didn’t need so much space to live. When the forests came back they could climb up in trees to escape predators or hide under leaves. Plus they could eat insects and there sure are enough of those, I guess, at any time on earth.” Harry laughed. “Chiggers. That’s what we really need. An investigation into why chiggers developed.”

Felipe and Raynell laughed with her.

“Well, I’d better get back to putting everything in order. Kylie will be here tomorrow with some of her staff.”

“I imagine everyone is shook up.”

“And then some. Felipe and I want to keep the office running.”

“Raynell, they aren’t going to shut it down. What we’re really worried about is will we get a new boss or will one of us take over? It’s easier if it’s one of us mostly because we worked closely together, we knew Lisa’s methods and she really did teach us political maneuvering,” Felipe gratefully said.

A concerned look crossed Harry’s even features. “Gary redid your office. He and Lisa got on like a house on fire. Both are dead. Murdered.”

“Murdered? Lisa died of a stroke or a heart attack,” Raynell objected, clearly upset at the suggestion.

“Well, we don’t know yet. But I believe the two deaths are connected.”

“Harry, that’s nuts,” Raynell blurted out.

“Yeah, well, I’ve heard that before. Maybe I am nuts but two people who knew each other fairly well, both had an interest in nature in all of its manifestations, both opposed rampant development by builders. I don’t know but that little light in my head just lit up.”

“Harry, I hope it’s a dim bulb.” Raynell breathed deeply.

32

April 10, 1787

Tuesday

Ewing strode through the carriage stables, looking for his elder daughter.

She glanced up from King David’s hoof, which Baxter O. held between his knees.

“Baxter, thank you, you can put his hoof down.”

Ewing, clearly agitated, focused on King David. “Is he all right?”

“Fine. A little tender. A small stone bruise. The pastures are greening up. A little turn out and no work will fix him just fine.” She smiled at Baxter O., whose opinion she valued highly; they had talked this over.

“Walk with me,” her father commanded. “I need to get the kinks out.”

She teased him. “Head or back?”

“Just you wait.” He smiled at her. He then launched into what was on his mind. “Roger Davis wrote Maureen Seli…I mean Holloway, to tell her there is to be a convention in Philadelphia in May. Settled. It will happen, and those representatives farthest away from Babylon on the Delaware are already on their way. What an opportunity this will be for endless pronouncements, legal twaddle, and rampaging self-interest. I don’t know what’s worse: deteriorating as we are or letting those men argue at a convention.”

“Father, you’re the one who says we have to do something. We can’t have export and import taxes between states and that’s what the current situation amounts to, doesn’t it?”

Grimly, he nodded. “Does, but Jefferson and his minions will be philosophically opposed to Adams and his following. Each will parade his Latin, too.”

“Surely there will be more moderate men.”

“Hamilton?” Ewing’s voice lowered. “Jefferson hates him, loathes him, and I expect it’s mutual. So that means Madison loathes him. I don’t see how an accord, even a rough accord, can be affected with these intensely self-regarding men.”

“When you speak, I am glad I am not in politics.” Catherine smiled.

“It’s the devil’s work. Is. I have lived a long time. I have observed from across the ocean the foolishness of kings, who worry more about their conquests and how they will be remembered than in fostering trade. They know nothing about trade and how wealth is created. They only know how to spend it like the mess in France with the queen’s jewelry. It’s absurd. And we’re absurd, too.”

“Will Washington be there?”

“He will. He’s probably the only man who can keep order. Franklin is eighty-one. But he has a way of bringing people together.”

“I thought Jefferson was still our ambassador to France.” Catherine was well informed, but only her family knew this, as well as Maureen, who divined it.

A slight breeze tousled Ewing’s hair. The early afternoon burst with spring’s promise of renewal. Many trees sported small buds opening to reveal true spring green color. The daffodils still bloomed but on the down side. Next would come the tulips with their wide array of colors.

“Oh, he’s in France, but I tell you who will be there, in his clever way. Madison. Madison. Madison.”

“Hence Roger Davis’s centrality to all this?”

“Mmm.” Ewing pursed his lips. “Madison is shifty. Brilliant, yes, but so are Hamilton and others. But Madison leaves little trace of his goings and comings. He’s like a tailor using invisible thread.”

“I thought you liked his mother.”

“She makes Franklin look young.” Ewing laughed. “Nell Madison has been dying since the day she was born. Whatever affliction is present or talked about, she has had it or is exhibiting the first symptoms. She’ll outlive us all. No wonder James isn’t married. She’s driven them all away.” He laughed again.

“Much as I like John’s family, I am glad they are in Massachusetts. And then when we visit them once a year, or they come here, I feel peeved at myself. His mother is a hardworking, loving woman and she never tells me what to do.”

“Oh, my dear, who can do that? I’ve been trying since you learned to walk.”

A slight blush rose on Catherine’s cheeks. “I listen.”

“Now you do but you were a handful.”

“Rachel was perfect.” Catherine smiled.

“Let’s just say Rachel is more like your mother.”

“And I am more like you.” Catherine slipped her arm through his.

He looked down for a step or two then looked up at an aqua sky. “So they say.”

She laughed. “Back to Philadelphia. It’s a Quaker city. How can it be Babylon on the Delaware?”

“Don’t be fooled by all that simplicity rubbish. A Quaker can spend money as well as the rest of us. Perhaps they’re smarter about hiding it. No lavish jewelry or excessive furniture. However, I have yet to see a rich Quaker who doesn’t own a handsome carriage.”