Author Topic: The Secret Time Traveler  (Read 33845 times)

Offline Nienor

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Re: The Secret Time Traveler
« Reply #45 on: December 19, 2016, 07:54:44 AM »
Just caught up with this, and loving all the mystery and suspense, as well as all the effort and detail you put into the story.
Looking forward to the next update  :)
If you're bored, try my Perfect Genetics Legacy thingy.
Deidre McMillan's (DV Maid) Perfect Genetics Dynasty
If you're not, go and read the Silmarillion, until you are bored, then read my story.

Offline Magz from Oz

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Re: The Secret Time Traveler
« Reply #46 on: December 24, 2016, 02:54:21 AM »
Chapter 12 – Revelations

Shopping, especially clothes shopping, was something I’ve actively avoided for most of my life.  While I know I have no sense of fashion, some of the stylists I’ve met have a far worse fashion sense than me.  I do most of my shopping on-line anyway.  But my Charity has a great sense of style.  She chose new outfits for both of us.  I was pleased with my new clothes chiefly because they were comfortable and practical.  My Charity looked gorgeous in her new clothes.  I didn’t plan to tell her that polka dots were all the rage in the 90’s but I hadn’t seen them around for years.  Truthfully she would still look gorgeous wearing a potato sack. 

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I had decided to call the Sim who I now knew to be Charity’s clone, “my Charity”, in my mind to differentiate between her and the real Charity.  Until the time comes to tell her the truth, it will save the possibility of confusion.

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After shopping, we met Tate and Esme outside the Kim Gould Steakhouse as arranged.  Esme decided that my Charity needed some girl time, so they went off to catch the early chick-flick showing at the theatre while Tate and I would attend to business with the lawyer. 

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As we walked upstairs to meet Tate’s lawyer, I noticed Tate clearly struggling with the stairs.  I wondered why no lift had been installed in the building.  Perhaps as one of the owners Tate had not wanted the expense.  He struck me as the frugal type but perhaps that’s just typical of our generation’s motto ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’.  We barely waited for more than a few minutes in the lawyer’s foyer before Tate’s lawyer, Joe Huebner came to greet us. 

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The diploma on his wall showed Joe Huebner had graduated from a prestigious Ivy League law school and then passed the bar exam within a month of graduating.  Evidently he was one very smart young man.  Despite his impressive law qualifications and the office that wouldn’t have looked out of place in any big city, Joe spoke with the slow easy drawl of Appaloosa Plains. 

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Joe introduced me to his associate Jay Schreckengast, who was elderly but still had a sharp mind.  Apparently Jay had been Joe’s father’s associate but it was clear that Joe was now the senior partner in rank, if not in age. 

From Joe’s questions, his attitude and his impeccable manners, I deduced that Joe was an extremely competent lawyer and Appaloosa Plains was lucky to have such an over-qualified young man who could have been making a tidy fortune in the more litigious cities like Bridgeport or Starlight Shores.  When I advised Joe that I didn’t have any documents to prove that I was Alva Doris Koffi’s grandson, he arranged for me to go to the hospital so DNA samples could be taken and analysed.  DNA samples would mean that I was safe in my lie about there being a Gobias Koffi Senior.

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Joe told me that until the results were available that he would continue to hold my share of the Alva’s estate in trust.  But I would now need a will.  In my will I, left my entire estate to Leon Baker and Hope Baker, both minors of Sunset Valley.  I explained that my heirs were my cousins on my mother’s side.  Nobody thought that was odd.  Joe Huebner would act as my executor.  I then nominated Keith Kalamia-Baker, currently at The Sims University, as the twins’ trustee.  This was not going to be my final will, but I trusted Joe to do the right thing by my future heirs, should it become so.

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On the other hand Tate was determined to bequeath his share of our mother’s estate and his own land to me, in the hope that my future children would uphold his wishes to not sell his land to developers.  I couldn’t really see Leon wanting to live here but Hope may well find this little town quite enchanting.  Joe assured me that he will ensure my will would cover such eventualities.  He made copious notes and assured us our new wills would be ready for signing the next day.

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Joe Huebner then introduced me to his brother Jake Huebner, who ran the accountancy firm across the hall from his law office.  Jake quickly ran me through the books on Gobias Koffi Senior’s estate.  He gave me electronic copies of the profit and loss statements dating back several years.  The accounts all looked normal, and fortunately, in the black.  As the business was obviously profitable, I asked why no lift had been installed in the building to meet new accessibility provisions required for buildings. 

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Jake explained that the new accessibility provisions did not cover old buildings and a refurbishment was not required.  But if I proposed to install a lift, it would then become mandatory to bring the whole building up to the new requirements in the current building code and fire regulations.  I thought about Tate’s arthritis and Joe’s elderly partner struggling with those stairs almost every day.  I authorised the expenditure and signed the forms Jake hastily prepared for me, authorising him to act on my behalf.  I asked him to arrange the expenditure from my share of the inheritance so Tate would not be out of pocket. 

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We shook hands and I left, confident that the brothers were both honest and competent.  My duty to Alva’s estate completed, Tate and I went outside to wait for Esme and my Charity.  Tate talked expansively about the town and what it had been like in the early days.  I was fascinated.  Tate genuinely cared about the history of the town and clearly resented the new city-slickers flooding into the town playing at being cowboys. 

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When Esme and my Charity arrived, we parted company.  We’d meet again tomorrow for the signing of the wills.  I felt saddened that I’d never known Tate earlier in my life.  I would have dearly loved having a younger brother and even though it was unlikely that my father had known about Tate’s existence, his lie about my mother’s death had cost me growing up with the knowledge that I had a brother.

My Charity became quiet and pensive when I explained why I needed to go to the hospital for a DNA test. 

“I don’t like hospitals,” she said.

“No problem,” I said soothingly.  “I’ll drop you off at home and I’ll see you afterwards.”

“No, please don’t.  I’ll worry about you.”

“Nothing’s going to happen.  It’s just a simple blood test.  I’ll be in and out before you know it.”

“Nothing about hospitals is ever that simple, especially ones which are part hospital and part science laboratory.  Sims can disappear there and are never seen again!”  How could I refute that!  It happened to me in Moonlight Falls!

“How do you know that?” I asked astounded.

“I don’t know, I just do.  Woman’s intuition, okay?” she said glumly.

“So if it’s going to upset you, why come?” I asked puzzled that the only snippet of information she knew from her past was of Sims disappearing at a hospital.

“Because I’m more afraid of losing you, than I am of the hospital,” she replied perhaps too distressed to realise what she just admitted. 

“Then by all means, come with me.  You’ll see that there’s nothing to worry about,” I said hoping to placate her.  Maybe she hadn’t meant her words the way they sounded but I couldn’t hide the silly grin on my face.

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As my Charity and I arrived, we saw Cassie talking to Dr Pinkerton.  One did not need to be a world class detective to deduce that Cassie was smitten by the good Doctor.  Or that Dr Gavin Pinkerton was similarly love-struck.  But I also knew that look of pain in his eyes.  While Cassie was his patient, his hands were tied.  He would be struck off if he began dating her.  Gavin Pinkerton saw us first but it was Cassie who turned around and smiled tentatively at us.

“Hi Cassie,” said my Charity gaily going to greet her.

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“Hello Charity,” replied Cassie equally bright and bubbly.  The love light still shining in her eyes was dazzling

“Boreís na milísei elliniká?” I asked.

“Mr Koffi, I’m sorry, I didn’t understand a word you said,” Cassie said totally mystified.  “Oh, is this another test?”

“Yes.  I asked if you could speak Greek?”

“Why would I be able to speak Greek?” she asked skeptically.

“Never mind Cassie, it was just a test.  Hello again Dr Pinkerton.  A word, if I may?” I said quietly to him.  He nodded and we walked away from the girls. 

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When we were out of earshot said quietly, “Cassie is not ill.  The real Charity can speak Greek.  Cassie didn’t understand me when I asked her a question in Greek.  If her procedural and semantic memories are intact, she would retain the language skills to understand Greek.  She doesn’t, therefore Cassie must be a clone.  She doesn’t need a doctor, she needs a loving caring Sim to help and guide her through this difficult period.”

“That’s excellent news!”  I could see from the happiness spreading over his features that he was aware of the implication of what I was telling him.  “Does your Charity speak Greek?” he asked. 

“No.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.  What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to try and find the real Charity.  I know I may never be content again if, this time, I don’t do everything I can to help her.”

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“What about your Charity clone?”

“I don’t know yet.  I think we’ll play it by ear.”

“Will you tell her that she is not the real Charity Kalamia?”

“Not until I have to.”

“Be careful.  She’s very vulnerable.  Her anxiety levels are fairly high.  She could easily develop co-dependency issues you may find difficult to extricate yourself from.”

I didn’t know yet whether I wanted to be extricated from her so I said, “Thank you.  I’ll be careful.”

“No, thank you.  If you two had never come here, we may never have known that Cassie had no memory because she was a clone.  You’ve made my day... year... no... life!  I love Cassie.  She makes me want to be a better Sim,” he said happily.

“I’m glad.  You do know your love is reciprocated, don’t you?”  At the stunned look on his face, I felt sure he didn’t.  “Well go and tell her how you feel!” I encouraged remembering how my own reticence had cost me the Sim I’d loved. 

As Charity and I went inside to get the tests done, I saw Dr Pinkerton and Cassie walk off towards a secluded part of the hospital grounds.  I can only speculate how that was going to turn out.  I hoped for the best for both of them.

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Charity was very quiet in the waiting room.  She tried to hide her anxiety by flipping through a magazine but if she read a word, I‘d have been amazed.  The magazine was about saddles. 

As predicted, once I was called into the Phlebotomist’s lab, it was all over in minutes.  When we came out I asked my Charity whose face was now very pale, “Do you want to go out to lunch or go home?”

“Home,” was all she said.  Beads of perspiration had formed across her forehead.  Unmistakably the hospital visit had been a terrifying experience for her.  We drove the short distance back to the Sweetapple Ridge Way house in silence. 

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I was wondering how I could make it up to her and then realised that I didn’t really know that much about her.  I knew she wasn’t Charity but I’d continued to treat her like she was.  I wanted to get to know the Sim who had freely suffered so much just to accompany me to the hospital.  Was she headstrong or meek?  Was she direct or indirect?  Dr Pinkerton said she was vulnerable, but she was strong enough to conquer her fears.  This time at least.  I realised that I wanted to know the inner Sim more.  I’d really like to know what made her tick and what ticked her off.  I realised I was really looking forward to the next stage of our lives.

As she shut the front door behind us, she said quietly, “One skill you didn’t test me for was lip reading.  I’m not Charity Deborah Kalamia am I?” she asked, her face and lips white.

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“No.  It’s clear to me that you are not the real Charity.”  Since when could Sims lip read, I wondered.

“So what am I then, her evil twin?”

“You are most definitely not evil.  Dr Pinkerton and I believe you and Cassie are clones.  That’s why neither of you have memories.”

“So what happens to me now?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Are you going to leave me behind?”

“Only if you want me to.”

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“I don’t want you to.”

“Good that’s settled.  What do you think about us going to Twinbrook next?”

She threw herself into my arms.  I wish I’d known it was that easy.

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We were interrupted by my Charity receiving a text message.  I didn’t want to release her from my arms but was pleased when she looked up at me with a wide smile.

“Cassie asks us to meet her at the beach at sunset,” she said.  Her radiant smile had my heart pounding.  “But I’m dead tired.  How about we both catch a nap before we go to meet her?”

“Sure,” I agreed

I was surprised when my Charity went off to my old room and not the other room she napped in yesterday.  As there was only one single bed in there I went to the other room.  I was tired but so sure I wouldn’t sleep, that when my Charity shook me awake, I was a astonished.  “Come on sleepy-head.  We don’t want to miss this,” she said gaily.

Just at sunset, we arrived at Adventure Landing beach.  Cassie and Gavin Pinkerton were both there and looking very romantic together.  Cassie shyly showed us a sparkling new engagement ring on her finger. 

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Gavin then asked me if I would stand up for him.  Gobsmacked I nodded.  Gavin turned on some music on his cell phone.  As the music to Wagner’s Bridal Chorus filled the silence, Gavin gently took Cassie’s hands.  They quietly and sincerely said the most abridged version of the traditional vows I’d ever heard.

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Nevertheless I was very pleased for them and as they kissed, wished them both well for a loving future together.

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Where there is love - there is life. -- Mahatma Gandhi

My Stories:
1. Duty Calls
2. Duty Calls Sequel: Islands of Sunset Valley
3. The Lady of the Lake
4. The Secret Time Traveler



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Offline Cheezey

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Re: The Secret Time Traveler
« Reply #47 on: December 24, 2016, 10:05:10 AM »
Aww. Well, it looks like Cassie will get a happy ending with Gavin, without having to feel the doubt of being a "copy" competing with the original.  I feel like Gobias' "my Charity" will not be so lucky. It's obvious he cares about her, but he naturally wants to find the original.  It's such a tricky issue with these clones! 

I really enjoy how you're writing and handling that in this story, Magz.  Wonderful job, and I'm looking forward to the next installment! :)

Offline oshizu

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Re: The Secret Time Traveler
« Reply #48 on: December 28, 2016, 03:55:35 PM »
Gobias has started to have really confused feelings toward "his Charity."
She obviously likes and relies on Gobias. She is accessible and available to Gobias in a way that the not-his Charity had not (never?) been.

This is such an intricate storyline. I have no idea whatsoever where you're taking us, Magz from Oz, but I'm quite thoroughly enjoying the ride.

Offline Magz from Oz

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Re: The Secret Time Traveler
« Reply #49 on: January 10, 2017, 02:32:57 AM »
Chapter 13 –Signs

Gavin and Cassie decided to celebrate their wedding with a dinner at the Bistro where Cassie worked as the five-star Chef.  Throughout the delicious meal, Cassie’s staff congratulated her enthusiastically and it was obvious that she was highly regarded by the entire staff, from the Kitchen Scullion upwards.  Over the course of the evening, I learned that Cassie arrived in Appaloosa Plains as a Pastry Chef and worked her way to the top.  I was yet to figure out why Cassie had no memory of how she acquired her many skills or about her rise in the Culinary profession before arriving in Appaloosa Plains. 

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We also learned a bit more about Dr Gavin Pinkerton.  He had been a big city doctor in Bridgeport before he decided to give up the limelight and get back into real medicine.  Something in his short story didn’t ring quite true to my ears.  He had a secret he wasn’t telling.  Not that I blame him for that.  I had far too many of my own to be critical.  So long as his secret wasn’t that he had a wife and six kids back in Bridgeport, I didn’t care.  For Cassie’s sake, I wanted his passionate speech to me earlier to be the real thing.

After the dinner the newlyweds went back to Gavin’s house next door to mine on Sweetapple Ridge Way.  We drove directly behind their car and watched as Gavin and Cassie walked into their house together.  I know Gavin intended to carry his bride across the threshold, but from our angle we wouldn’t see it unless we trespassed. 

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As we walked toward our house my Charity lost her footing and fell into the snow.  I leaned down to help her up but she was giggling too hard and inadvertently pulled my arm so that I too fell face down into the snow.  Rolling over I saw that my Charity was making a snow angel.  I made one too.  Soon I was soaked through and freezing my tush off.  My Charity’s teeth were chattering.  As we stood up to go inside I looked down at our snow angels.  They were so close together it looked as if their hands were touching.

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As I closed our front door I noticed that my Charity was overtired.  To be totally honest so was I.  I’d had no more than a few naps since we’d left Sunset Valley two nights ago. 

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My Charity looked shyly at me and quietly said goodnight in her little girl voice.  I guessed that she felt awkward and unsure given the fact that she’d flung herself into my arms earlier.  I said goodnight and went to my childhood bedroom.  As I firmly closed the door, I resolved to talk things over with her in the morning.  I didn’t want her feeling uncomfortable around me.  I didn’t need or want that complication. 

I could smell her fragrance on the pillow that she’d slept on only hours before.  I liked lavender.  It had a fresh clean scent and it was very soothing.  Despite feeling very conflicted about the two of us, I fell asleep easily. 

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But my dreams were those long torturous exhausting dreams which, thankfully, by dawn, evaporated into nothing.  I don’t remember them, only that I awoke feeling relieved to know they were just dreams.

I looked at the clock to see that it was nearly 9:00 AM.  I’d slept ten hours!  Listening carefully, I couldn’t hear a sound in the house.  Not wanting to disturb my Charity, I showered quickly. 

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Back in my room, I pulled out my phone to take it off silent mode and check for messages.  I had received one new message from Joe Huebner that my will was ready for signing.  Good, I thought, we can leave Appaloosa Plains later today if my Charity was ready to move on. 

Before we left we needed to talk things through.  I was no longer just content to go with the flow.  I needed boundaries.  I wanted to know what she expected from me.  One minute she was in my arms and the next, retreating behind poignant little girl voices.  I suspected that she didn’t know what she wanted.  If she wanted any sort of relationship beyond friendship, it might have to wait.  Even though the temptation to allow her attachment to develop to the next level was all too real, I was a Sim on a mission, I told myself.

That was the normal and rational side of me speaking.  Any relationship between my Charity and I would be inherently complex and my life was already far too complicated as it was.  Moreover, I was planning to make my life even more difficult.  I needed to find out what happened to the real Charity and why clones of her were popping up all over the place.  If Myles Kyrios was involved in all this, danger was a given.  Probably even mortal danger.  I feared that my Charity’s continued association with me could put her in jeopardy.  The risk of Myles finding her and the fear of what he may do to her, may destroy any attempt I might be able to make at rescuing the real Charity.

But my Charity knew things.  Whether it was just intuition or some suppressed memories drifting to the surface, I was yet to establish.  Her use of Charity’s chess phrase, “be prepared to be clobbered”, indicated that it was more than likely that she had played chess with the real Charity.  She may even know of the real Charity’s whereabouts buried deep within her suppressed memories.  Also the lip reading skill, where had she learned that and why?  My Charity could certainly be of invaluable assistance to me in my search.  But my concern for her welfare would seriously hinder me if things go pear-shaped.  I was prepared for and expected a certain degree of danger for myself.  My Charity needed to know the risks of my quest.  Then it would be up to her whether or not she accompanied me in my travels.

The other issue was her growing attachment to me.  Until now, I’ve tried to appear as if I hadn’t noticed her romantic gestures.  But if I allowed those to persist, I might unwittingly find myself in a relationship I hadn’t anticipated.  Not that a romantic relationship with her would be a hardship, but it would just unnecessarily complicate things.

I knew why I had to sort my own feelings out.  I didn’t know myself what I wanted either.  If she threw herself into my arms again, who knows where that might lead?  She may be the hopeless romantic, but I am a normal Sim.  Not a saint or a monk.  What sort of a cad would I be to follow through on that when I always thought that I would love the real Charity Kalamia until my dying breath? 

Yet here I was, wondering about, and to be absolutely truthful, not averse to engaging in a liaison with her clone.  I decided that I had better be more careful.  I resolved that I had to play the gentleman card and stop this before it goes further.  Until I knew my true feelings, I should leave that problem strictly alone.  Words and deeds, once out there, can never be recalled.  Regretted, yes; but never unsaid or undone.

Frustrated at the merry-go-round that my foolish and idealistic thoughts were taking me, I decided to check the weather the old fashioned way; by looking outside.  I looked through the bedroom window.  It was snowing heavily.  Through the snowflakes, I saw both Gavin Pinkerton and Tate Curley standing near a strange whitish light in the sky. 

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I’d never seen such a bizarre light before.  I didn’t know what it was.  This wasn’t the multicoloured lights typical of an alien abduction.  Anyway this was broad daylight.  To the best of my knowledge, alien abductions only happened at night.  I rushed outside to get a better look but the light had vanished.  Instead I greeted Gavin and Tate.

“Hi guys,” I said looking skywards.  “What do you make of that strange light?”

“What light was that?” inquired Gavin.

“I’ve no idea.  I’ve never seen anything like that before.  You were closer.  What do you think it was?” I asked.  Gavin and Tate looked at each other.

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“What strange light?” Tate asked.

“What do you mean what strange light?  The one that was in the sky just moments ago,” I said puzzled.

“I ain’t seen no light,” replied Tate looking at Gavin who just shook his head.

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“There was a dazzling beam of vertical light shining right here not more than two minutes ago.  Surely you saw it?”  I said totally perplexed.  I examined the ground.  I think I recall seeing the light touch the ground but now I wasn’t so sure.  There was no disturbance in the snow at all.

“I didn’t see any light either,” replied Gavin.  “Gobias how much sleep have you had recently?”

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“Gavin, I’ve just slept ten hours straight.  I’m not hallucinating and I’m not delusional.  I did see a strange beam of light just moments ago.  What are you both doing in my front yard if not to look at the light?”

“Esme just dropped me off.  I was here to tell you that Joe Huebner has our new wills ready to sign,” replied Tate.  I looked at Gavin.

“I’d just set out for a walk when I saw Tate arrive.  I walked over to greet him,” Gavin said casually. 

“A walk... in the snow... in an open necked shirt?!”  I asked incredulously.

“I wasn’t planning on taking a long walk.  I like to walk while I think things through in my head,” replied Gavin.  I couldn’t fault him for that.  I did that often enough myself.

“Okay.  Here’s something else to think about.  I saw a strange beam of light in my front yard not more than fifteen feet from either of you.  But neither of you saw it.  What does that mean?”

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“I think it means that we’re dealing with some really weird stuff,” said Gavin carefully.

Tate looked worried.  “Do you remember them folks that said there was a strange light in the sky the night that Cassie arrived?  Maybe them fairies travel like that?” mused Tate. 

“No they don’t,” I said.  “They travel by planes, trains and automobiles just like we do.”  Gavin and I looked at each other instantly alarmed. 

As I raced back into my house, I’m pretty sure Gavin was running back to his.  “Charity!” I yelled, my heart beating fast from fear.  She didn’t respond to my call.  I swung her bedroom door open so hard it nearly broke off its hinges.  Charity was no longer in the bed. 

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Then I heard the shower.  I listened at the bathroom door.  I could hear her singing.  My Charity had not been whisked away on that beam of light.  The sheer strength of my relief was enlightening.  Enlightening and frightening.  I cared more about her than I thought I did. 

I texted Gavin, “Charity is still here.”

“Ditto Cassie” was his reply.

“Thank God.”

“Amen!”

“Take care,” I texted back.

“That’s a given.  You too.  Keep in touch!”

“Will do.”

I went back to the front door.  All that time, Tate just stood quietly in the snow looking at the ground where I had been sure the light touched down.

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As he saw me he walked over.  Stomping his feet to get the snow off his boots as he walked inside, he said, “Somethin’ funny’s goin’ on here, ain’t it?”

“Not everything that happens in the Simverse is logical or explainable,” I said.

“Ain’t that the truth!” he replied.  “I figured with them two fairies appearing like that... outta thin air... with the same face... no memories... somethin’ really strange is happenin’.  The air is different.  I can feel it in my bones.”

“Have there been many strangers in town lately?”

“Some,” he paused obviously thinking.  “A few months back we had one paparazzi guy who had fish scales on his legs.  From time to time, not often mind, we been seein’ folks with skin of all different colours.  I mean all colours... green, blue, even purple.” Tate said shaking his head. 

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That was itself unusual.  Most tourists or paparazzi who show up in any Sim town, generally have the same skin colours as the townies.  Rainbow skinned tourists or a merman paparazzi in Appaloosa Plains was definitely not normal.

We heard my Charity come out of the bathroom, and both Tate and I turned to look at her.  She looked refreshed.  Her hair was still slightly damp so that blond tendrils curled softly around her face.  She was breathtakingly beautiful and when she smiled at us, time stood still for me.  With one smile she had just reduced all my fine gentlemanly intentions to dust.

Tate stepped forward and said, “Good mornin’ Miss Charity.  I hope you slept well?”

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“I did, thank you Uncle Tate” she replied cheerfully.  “I slept like a log.  Are you joining us for breakfast?”  Giving Tate the courtesy title of ‘uncle’ obviously pleased him.  He stood taller with his stoop much less pronounced.  She had a way with words.

“No, but thank ye Charity, I already ate.  I come to collect Gobias to sign our papers.”

“Do you want breakfast before you go Gobias?  It won’t take me long to whip up something you can take in the car.”

“No, thank you.  I’ll come right back and we can have brunch then,” I replied.  “Why don’t you have a look around the house and see if there is anything you want to take with us to Twinbrook?”

“Okay, I’ll throw something together for brunch and we’ll eat as soon as you’re home.”

“Thank you.  That sounds good.  I won’t be long.”

Tate and I drove away in my hired car.  At the lawyer’s office, it was Joe’s associate who handled our appointment.  Jay Schreckengast explained that Joe was in court unexpectedly.  Jay then went through our wills which were a little more complicated than I expected.  Joe had built in contingencies that I hadn’t foreseen, including that if I should have children of my own, they would also inherit in equal shares with my two named heirs.  The rest of the will was straight forward and contained the clause I wanted, that should all my heirs predecease me, a trust fund would be established to help homeless NPC Sims find accommodation. 

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Our duty to Alva’s estate now finally done, I dropped Tate back to his house and went inside briefly to say my goodbyes to Miss Esme.  I explained that my Charity and I would leave for Twinbrook, possibly as early as that afternoon.  Esme asked me if I wanted to see my grandmother’s grave before I left.  I looked at my watch.  I had a little time so I said yes.  Tate excused himself, he had other business so Esme and I went.  As we drove to the cemetery, Esme told me that Tate had issues with his mother’s abandonment.  That was not surprising.  If I’d known my mother was alive, I might have developed the same issues.  After all, she had obviously left me with my father and probably never looked back.  Although she did name me in her only will, so she obviously thought of me at least once.

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At the cemetery Esme showed me Alva Doris Curley’s grave.  She was buried beside Billy-Bob Curley.  I didn’t have any words to say to my mother.  I felt like I didn’t know her at all anymore.  I stood quietly and respectfully and hoped words would come.  Nothing did.  Then we looked around the little cemetery which had a section for the graves of pets.  But walking around, I noticed that, except for some pets and Tate’s parents, there was only one other named grave.  How curious?  Why all the tombstones without any Sim ghost to go with them.

Esme didn’t say anything on the drive back to her house.  Saying my goodbyes, I shook hands with Tate and after I gave Esme a nephew-like kiss on her cheek, she handed me an envelope.  I said I would keep in touch. 

Outside in my car, I opened the envelope which contained notepaper with her and Tate’s phone numbers, and home and email addresses written down in neat handwriting.  Clipped to that was the card from the Twinbrook police officer who Esme and Tate had made contact with when they first began looking for me all those years ago.  I looked at his card.  I had heard of the name but never knew the person.  If he was still in the force I will tell him that I am no longer a missing person.  A police contact was always good.  He might be able to help me locate certain individuals.

I drove back to the house in a happy frame of mind.  As I entered I could smell the scent of fresh flowers mingled with cooking smells.  While I had been out, Charity had picked some wildflowers.  I remembered that the real Charity had loved wildflowers.  After she had died, Faith and I had often picked wildflowers to put on her grave.

Faith said Charity preferred wildflowers because they often sprang up in such unexpected places adding beauty to an otherwise drab location.  To Charity the wildflowers represented hope.  That any place, no matter how dreary, was capable of producing beauty, you just had to look for it.  That sentiment mostly summed up Charity’s attitude.  She looked for beauty of spirit in a Sim, not simply beauty of face or figure. 

So over our brunch I said, “Thanks for preparing brunch for us.  These egg rolls are delicious.  Why did you pick the wildflowers?”

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“I was feeling so lost and confused when you left this morning.  I did as you asked but there are only the instruments that I would like to keep but they’re difficult to manage when travelling.  Perhaps when I’m settled, I’ll get some of my own.  I did find a little cowboy blanket with the name ‘Gobias Koffi’ written on it.  It must have been your father’s.  Did you want to keep it?”

“Yes, thank you for finding it.”  It had been my blanket when I was little.  My mother wrote my name on in because I’d take it everywhere and sometimes leave it behind.  I remember crying about it when dad and I arrived in Sunset Valley but dad refused to go back and get it or arrange for it to be shipped.  I think I had more separation anxiety about the blanket than my mother.

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I shelved my thoughts as my Charity began talking again but very softly.  “Sometimes I feel like I’m living in a crazy storybook like Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.  I’ve landed in some mysterious place and I don’t know if following the white rabbit will ever get me home.  But what choice do I have?  I don’t even know where home is.  When I saw the flowers in your back yard, I began to feel better.  They looked so brave poking their heads above the snow.  It’s like they’re saying “spring is coming, hold on, you can make it through and something good is just around the corner”.  I like to think the wildflowers are little signs of optimism.”

Her view on wildflowers so cleanly aligned with the real Charity’s that I wondered if that was my Charity’s own opinion or she’d once heard the original say it and adopted it.  I now wondered if Cassie also had a predilection for wildflowers.

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Was now the time to mention the dangers she could face following me on my mission?  I was concerned that she’d felt confused but comforted by the rise in confidence seeing the wildflowers gave her.  I guess there never would be an ideal time to discuss this, but I decided to leave the relationship issues unresolved.  I didn’t want to confuse her anymore than she was already.  Also I realised I didn’t want to lose her companionship.

“Well I hope you’re right that better things are coming because from my point of view, things may get dangerous.”

“Why would things get dangerous?” she asked more intrigued than alarmed.

“Because I want to find out what happened to the real Charity Kalamia.  That’s what I want to talk to you about.  I want you to know that if you stick with me, there may be danger, maybe even grave danger.  Are you prepared to face that?”

“I don’t know.  I guess that depends on what the danger entails.”

“Well I can’t really be more specific because I don’t know myself.  I believe a wizard is involved.  The danger may simply be an unpleasant spell but since he’s an evil Great Wizard, the danger may equally be to life and limb.”

“So it’s an evil Great Wizard who is making copies of Charity Kalamia and then sending us to all corners of the Simverse.  For what purpose?”

“I have absolutely no idea.  I don’t know for sure that he is involved, but if he is, it will be dangerous for me and it’s probably not going to be pretty for whomever I’m with.”

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“Why?”

“He hates me.”

“Does he have a name?”

“Myles Kyrios.”

“Who is he to you?”

“He was the Sim who married the real Charity Kalamia.  He was a libertine in the old fashion sense of the word.  He seduced her with a love charm.  They were married.  Then he broke her heart and her spirit.”

“Then what happened?”

“She died.”

“How?”

“She drank an elixir to forsake the Fae and tried to repair a broken dishwasher.  She had no handiness skill.  She was electrocuted.”

“Did you ever see her ghost?”

“No.”

“Then you can’t be sure she was electrocuted.  She may have died another way.

“Her family was informed that she had died of electrocution.  I hardly think the coroner would get that wrong.”

“And you think that somehow you are to blame, don’t you?”

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“Yes.”

“So now you think you have to rescue the real Charity.”

“I have to try.”

“Well maybe I can help you.  Two heads are better than one, surely?  I could come back here if things get as dangerous as you say.  Oh!  If it’s dangerous for me, does that mean Cassie may also be in danger?”

“I doubt that.  It would only be the Sim who accompanies me who may be in danger.”

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“So let’s go find Charity Kalamia!  But before we do, I want my own name.  What do you suggest?”

“That should be up to you Miss Alice in Wonderland.”  I don’t know why I mentioned to her little allegory.

“Oh I like Alice.  I shall be Alice White after the white rabbit.”  I looked at her and wondered if she thought that I was the white rabbit that it wasn’t sensible to follow.  I’m certain it’s not sensible to follow me.

“Miss Alice White?  At least you won’t have to eat cake to shrink down.  How about we go and register your new name right now.  Then we’ll get the afternoon flight to Twinbrook.”

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“Why Twinbrook?”

“How about because I’ve never been there before?”  I could see she didn’t believe that was my only motivation.  “Okay it’s because Tate and Esme and someone else I knew had been misdirected there.  Perhaps there is a clue there.” 

“What type of clue?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay.  It’s going to be like looking for a needle in a haystack.  By the way, did the real Charity die or one of us clones?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did you check her tombstone?”

“It’s gone.  It could be anywhere or nowhere.”

“So let’s go find out!” she said impatient to be gone now.

We washed up our plates and headed out the door.  My Charity, oops, Alice had already arranged that Cassie would clear out the fridge and see that the house was made ready for the next tenant.

As we drove away, I thought I saw a flash of light.  Not the long beam I saw earlier, just a quick flash.  I felt the chill of evil eyes watching me.  I saw Alice give a little shiver too.

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Where there is love - there is life. -- Mahatma Gandhi

My Stories:
1. Duty Calls
2. Duty Calls Sequel: Islands of Sunset Valley
3. The Lady of the Lake
4. The Secret Time Traveler

Offline Cheezey

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Re: The Secret Time Traveler
« Reply #50 on: January 10, 2017, 03:05:19 PM »
Great update! I hope Alice will be all right, whatever happens when she and Gobias go to Twinbrook. The evil gnome is an ominous omen indeed...

Offline oshizu

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Re: The Secret Time Traveler
« Reply #51 on: January 10, 2017, 03:14:20 PM »
Your story continues to fascinate me, Magz from Oz



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Offline Magz from Oz

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Re: The Secret Time Traveler
« Reply #52 on: January 11, 2017, 06:59:38 PM »
Chapter 14 – Four Years Ago in Twinbrook

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“So Bill, we may have a problem,” Dennis Racket said to his brother at one Sunday lunch with his family.  “Lang Gwydd tells me that his bird, Dolly Pidgin, mentioned that our insufferable brother Dudley was spending a lot of time in the library.  He has also lost a lot of weight.  What’s he up to?”

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“How should I know?  I haven’t seen him in years,” replied his older brother.  “Maybe he’s sick and he’s consulting with Dr Google.”

“Old Uncle Dud is slimmer because he’s been working out at the gym.  I used to see him there most afternoons, although I haven’t seen him at the gym for a while,” said Dennis’s son, Shark who, although still a teenager, was the only athletic Sim of the notorious criminal family, who were the bane of the Twinbrook Police Department.

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“Why would he be sweating it out in a gym?  Surely his days of having to pass the physical were long gone.  Maybe he’s got a girlfriend?” asked Marigold the insane matriarch of the largest and most infamous family of thieves and racketeers in the Simverse.  Guffaws broke out around the table.  The very idea that any female Sim could find the eldest Racket son attractive was beyond their collective, albeit limited, comprehension.

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“Not that I’ve heard,” replied Silver the avarice wife of Marigold’s youngest son, Dennis.  “I saw him at one of my dance classes.   You know those freebies that the new Skylight Studio for the Performing Arts complex handed out when they opened here in Twinbrook.  I heard from someone I know at the Lakefront Wellness Centre that Dudley bought home gym equipment, so I guess he might be working out at his house if he’s not still going to the gym.”

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“Why would he want to get fit at his age?” Silver’s teenage daughter, Lolly asked her mother.

Silver shrugged her shoulders, “Well the advertising for the new gym claims that if a Sim runs more than 500 kilometres on the treadmill, they can add years to their lives.  Dud’s getting older, maybe he just wants to be healthier.”

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“I would have thought that old Dud would cark it if he ran more than five kilometres,” retorted Dennis whose physique could only be politely described as ‘large’.  Such was Max’s antipathy towards his eldest son that he actually smiled at the thought.  That would solve a lot of problems.  A Racket wearing a badge looked very bad for the family business.

“Word on the street is that Dudley has been visiting the junkyards a lot.  You boys wouldn’t know why he’s been digging around there, would you?” asked Marigold.

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“Ain’t nothin’ to find in those junkyards but scrap metal,” replied Dennis to the noticeable relief of his parents.

“I saw him at the hospital with that sculptor fellow, Clay something or other,” snarled Max.

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“That would be Harwood Clay, dad,” said Bill.  “City Hall commissioned him to make a sculpture for the town.  Maybe old Dud was helping him find materials for those weird metal sculptures he makes.”

Not to be left out of the conversation, even if she hadn’t picked up on the undertones around the table, Lolly said artlessly, “Well I overheard Chase Bayless telling Jade Greenwood that Uncle Dud was hanging out a lot with Juan Darer.”

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“The nutty inventor!  Maybe they’ll manage to burn that garage he lives in down and help Twinbrook be a prettier place for doing so,” grumbled Max.

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“Well you remember how grandma read that Uncle Dud scored the top job at the Forensics Lab, last year,” there were nods and scowls around the table.  “Anyway the school had that field trip to the Twinbrook Police Department last week and I saw this big photo of Uncle Dud receiving some award for his work with Dactylography.  They call him the “King of the Lab.”  That’s too funny.  He looked so ridiculous wearing one of those body-suit thingies those lab people wear.  Ha ha.  The tour guide told our class that Dactylography is the scientific study of fingerprints and that Dudley had developed some new techniques to identify partial fingerprints from crime scenes.” 

That comment elicited more scowls from the collective Rackets.  While Dennis wasn’t too stupid not to wear gloves whenever he did a job, his forte, safe cracking, required hands on work so he could feel the clicks on the dial.  He always cleaned off his prints after a job, but now he would be extra careful.

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Unaware of the extra tension in her husband, Silver said, “Dudley doesn’t wear the body-suit all the time but he looks just as silly in his lab coat.  Did you really cook this lunch Lolly, it’s pretty good.”

“Thanks mother,” responded Lolly.  “That cooking class I did yesterday was pretty neat.  When I’ve finished school maybe I can train to be a chef.”

“We’ll see,” was her father’s only response.

Miffed at the lack of enthusiasm for her chosen career from her father, Lolly went on.  “Well somewhere Uncle Dudley doesn’t look ridiculous is at the skating rink.  He’s actually very good.  He gave me a few hints on keeping my balance,” retorted Lolly sulkily, knowing that saying anything complimentary about her uncle would get her father’s attention.

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“What are you doing hanging out with Dudley at the rink anyway?” asked Silver.

“I was supposed to be learning figure skating with Jade but she stood me up.  Uncle Dudley taught me a few simple spins once I got the hang of it.”

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“I reckon I would have paid to see him end up flat on his fat butt,” muttered Marigold.

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“Well he didn’t,” retorted Lolly.  “I said he was a really good skater.  I didn’t fall once when he was teaching me.  Anyway he said he only came to the park because his plans fell through.  He had been planning on going fishing with Skeet and Tay Bayless but Tay got sick and Skeet cancelled.”

“Dudley fishing!  Heaven forbid!  Where?” asked Dennis startled.

“I don’t know, Dad.  He didn’t say.  There’s a path to the river just at the back of his house.  Maybe he fishes there.”

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“Well so long as it’s not at the cemetery,” said Dennis gruffly.

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“Yuk!  Why would anybody go fishing at the cemetery?” asked Lolly innocently.  “Chase Bayless says there’s nothing much but some scraggly old red herrings and black goldfish in that pond.”  Marigold and Dennis looked at each other worried.

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“Shark!  Where are you going?” barked Max irritated.  For all that he was supposed to be charismatic, Max thought the boy had no manners, leaving the table while the family were still talking.

“I’m going to find out what Ol’ Dudley Do Goodie is up to?”

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“Shark you be careful!  You never know what you’re gonna catch slumming on Catfish Flats Drive,” admonished his mother.  “That rundown house is barely habitable.  I don’t know why he lives there.  I know he can afford so much better” said Silver snobbishly.

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“Sit down Shark,” said Bill.  “Keep your powder dry.  I’ll ask around.  I know a few people over that way.  Anyway isn’t it your turn to wash up?”

“No it’s Lolly’s turn,” snapped Shark muttering to himself as he sat down again but nobody paid attention.

Petulantly Lolly got up to clear the table, stomping off toward the kitchen with the dirty dishes.  Nobody paid much attention to her except Marigold.  When she heard the unmistakable sounds of the dishwasher being stacked, she asked her family in exasperation, “What do you think Dudley is up to?

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“I don’t know Ma, but it can’t be good.  Dennis and I will call in a few favours.  We’ll see what we can dig up,” replied Bill.

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“Digging is what worries me,” said Marigold dismayed that she went so wrong with her eldest son.  “I think it’s time for my nana nap.”

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“I’m going out for a jog,” said Shark to nobody in particular as Lolly came back into the dining room.  “Good job on the Dim Sum sis.  Nobody’s dropped dead yet.”  Lolly poked her tongue out at her brother.  Lunch over, chores done, Lolly was off to the park to see who was there.

Meanwhile, Shark’s jog took him to an unlikely place where he nonetheless received a civil but cautious welcome. 

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Shark and his uncle talked about banal subjects such as the weather and the gym.  Shark thought he was surreptitiously looking around Dudley Racket’s modest abode but he was completely unaware that his uncle noticed his snooping. 

“What did you dig that hole in your yard for?” asked Shark when his curiosity got the better of him.

“This land hereabouts used to be landfill 80 years ago.  I’ve borrowed Juan Darer’s miner to see what I might find.  So far, I’ve mostly dug up scrap metal but I’ve found a few interesting rocks too.”

“What sort of rocks?”

“Smokey quartz mostly but some chunks of iron as well,” replied Dudley.

Worthless junk thought Shark who quickly became bored with the subject.  “I was just out for a jog, but I’ve gotta get back.  See ya.”

Dudley waved goodbye as his nephew jogged back up Catfish Flats Drive, wondering why his family had come calling on him after all these years.  He felt sure Shark Racket was going to grow up to be a real lady’s man and probably not in a good way.  Shark was always strutting around in active wear showing off his developing musculature.  He already had a reputation among the town teenagers as an irrepressible flirt.  Through his friendship with Chase Bayless, Dudley had kept tabs on the younger members of the Racket family.  While his parents and brothers were beyond redemption, Dudley still harboured some hope for the teenagers, especially Lolly. 

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Much later that night, while the honest folk of Twinbrook slept, the hole Dudley had dug with his miner but hadn’t got around to filling in yet, glowed strangely.  Strange sounds also emanated from the glowing hole; gasps, mutterings, exclamations and the distinctive sound of grunts from exertion.

Many hours later something stranger still climbed out of the hole. 

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Where there is love - there is life. -- Mahatma Gandhi

My Stories:
1. Duty Calls
2. Duty Calls Sequel: Islands of Sunset Valley
3. The Lady of the Lake
4. The Secret Time Traveler

Offline oshizu

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Re: The Secret Time Traveler
« Reply #53 on: January 11, 2017, 07:26:46 PM »
What an entrance!

Offline Cheezey

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Re: The Secret Time Traveler
« Reply #54 on: January 11, 2017, 08:11:57 PM »
I enjoyed reading the interplay between the Rackets in this chapter.  I'm looking forward to what happens next!

Offline Banana Bender

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Re: The Secret Time Traveler
« Reply #55 on: January 11, 2017, 08:21:42 PM »
OMG have you picked the ugliest Sims ever created to use in this story?  I feared that Cassie would have to end up with Jay Schreckengast in Appaloosa Plains.  BTW I've never seen Jay scrub up so well.  Kudos to you for his makeover.

I don't know where this is headed but it's a great read.

Offline Magz from Oz

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Re: The Secret Time Traveler
« Reply #56 on: January 12, 2017, 03:39:39 AM »
OMG have you picked the ugliest Sims ever created to use in this story?

That's a bit harsh.  Anyway the handsome ones have been written about ad infinitum.  I thought I give the other Sims their turn in the limelight.
Where there is love - there is life. -- Mahatma Gandhi

My Stories:
1. Duty Calls
2. Duty Calls Sequel: Islands of Sunset Valley
3. The Lady of the Lake
4. The Secret Time Traveler

Offline Magz from Oz

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Re: The Secret Time Traveler
« Reply #57 on: January 13, 2017, 06:11:39 PM »
Chapter 15 – Not a Good Start

Thankfully the heavy snow caused no delays with our departure from Appaloosa Plains or our arrival in Twinbrook.  The plane landed right on schedule.  Knowing that we might be in Twinbrook for a few days, I booked a hire car to be collected at the airport.  The booking agent I went through explained that there was a sculptor’s convention in the town, so the hotels were booked out.  Using a realtor contact he gave me, I arranged to a take a month’s lease on a house just outside the CBD.  The realtor I spoke to said if she couldn’t meet us at the airport, she’d courier the house keys to the clerk at the airport’s office of the car rental firm.

Picking up both the car and the house keys at the airport should have been easy but there was such curiosity about Alice, that she became nervous and edged ever closer to me.  Curious Sims was one thing but others were staring openly.  One Sim almost reached out to touch Alice’s wings.  I asked the desk clerk, “Can you give me directions to Willow Manor on Ruddlewick Drive?” 

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“That’s Puddlewick Drive Sir,” the clerk smiled.  “You drive straight through the town and across a green bridge.  Immediately on the left is the new Skylight Studio for the Performing Arts complex and Willow Manor was just across the road from it.  You can’t miss it.  All our cars come complete with a welcome pack which includes a map of Twinbrook showing the tourist sites, the Twinbrook winter and spring Events calendar, the cinema guide and this week’s TV guide.  But if you need a GPS that’ll cost extra.”

“Thank you.  I won’t bother with the GPS at this stage.”

We located the car in the carpark.  Good, it was another VFN Kompensator and we drove slowly through the town taking in the sites.  Following the desk clerk’s directions wasn’t easy because all the bridges we saw were green so I kept driving until I found one with the Skylight Studio on the left.  Then we found Willow Manor easily enough.

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We picked out a bedroom each, dropped off our overnight bags and headed off to the Twinbrook Police Department to see if Lieutenant Dudley Racket was still a serving member.  The Lieutenant had probably been promoted since he gave his card to Esme Curley and I hoped that he might have chosen the Forensics Branch for his rising career.  If Dudley Racket had taken the Special Agent career path, as I did, he may not even be in country. 

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As we walked through the door, we were smiled at, not stared at, which was a nice change.  Perhaps the Police Department had invested in some cultural sensitivity training for their staff.  Before we even reached the front desk, Alice was greeted by a young Patrol Officer.

“Hi Mrs D.  You’ve just missed Dudley.  He’s delivering that presentation at City Hall.  I’m sorry but he could be gone quite a while.  Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Um...thank you, no, it’s okay” said Alice and we left the building.  Outside, Alice said to me.  “Now I’m someone else again.  Who is Mrs Dee?”

“I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”  I hadn’t thought that there would be yet another Charity clone when I decided to come to Twinbrook.  I wondered if there were clones posted in all the towns in the Simverse.  Anyway the chances of a small Police Department having two Dudley’s was minimal.  I had found Dudley Racket.  I pointed out to Alice the Galaxa Space Car in the parking lot.

“What does that mean?” she asked.

“I’ve no idea.  It’s not there for analysis or examination, if it was, it would be in the evidence garage.  Maybe there is some consulting going on between Twinbrook PD and Sixam.”

“What’s Sixam?”

“Sixam is the home planet of an alien race that has been visiting the Simverse.  Don’t you remember the aliens coming?”

“No.  Are they friendly?”

“It depends on your gender and occult status.  If you’re a normal male Sim then they can sometimes be overly friendly.  Otherwise, they’re just inquisitive but harmless.”

“Have you met one?”

“Sort of,” how could I explain Keith without a lengthy explanation?  “I’ve been abducted twice but thankfully, there were no consequences.”

“What do they do when they abduct you?”

“I haven’t any idea.  I don’t remember any of it.  I’m reliably told that they do a memory wipe on all their abductees so nobody actually knows.”

“Do you think that’s what happened to Cassie and me?”

“No.  I haven’t previously considered that because the memory wipe only covers what happens during the abduction.  But I’ve never known what could happen if a clone was abducted.  But I know of someone who may be able to answer that question.  I’ll send an email to him as soon as we get home tonight.”

“Do you think it’s the aliens who have been making clones of Charity Kalamia?” Alice asked me.

“I seriously doubt it.”  Why would they need to?  But that’s another question I will ask Keith in my email.

We walked companionably around the town and on passing the Curios Memorial Museum, Alice asked if we could take a look.  Deciding that someplace warm would be very welcome about now, we went inside.  Alice particularly wanted to see the sculptures.  The curator who met us at reception told us that the sculpting exhibition was upstairs but many of the exhibits had been loaned to the Sculpting convention being held out at the Willowglen Amphitheatre.

Undaunted we went upstairs to see what they had.  There were only a few pieces and one drew Alice’s interest.  “Do you see that texturing on the hair of that sculpture?  That’s very difficult to do with that type of stone.  I’m immensely impressed.”

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“Do you remember anything about learning to sculpt?”

“Not the actual training or what I’ve sculpted before.  But I know what hammers or chisels or gauges to use to get the effects I want.  As soon as I look at the medium, I know what I want to sculpt and how to do it.”

“I understand stone is a medium mainly used by experts,” I said.

“Topiary is much more fiddly,” replied Alice.  “But I prefer stone.  You’ve just got to know how to treat it.  Some stone is too fragile for sculpting.  Some of the nicest looking stone breaks easily with chisels but will withstand scraping and sanding.”

When we had seen through the museum, including the paintings, we continued walking toward City Hall.  Sims were staring at us as we walked along.  Maybe I was wrong about there being another Charity clone in town as many of these Sims appeared to be unused to seeing a fairy in their midst.  I guess I was expecting a reception similar to what we had seen in Appaloosa Plains where everybody knew and were overly protective of Cassie. 

Walking through the park a woman approached us.  She scowled so viciously, that Alice nudged closer to me. 

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Without saying a word, the silver blond woman brushed past us ramming Alice roughly with her shoulder.  I caught Alice before she fell.  Alice and I were shocked.   There was no need to jostle us like that.  There was lots of space for her to walk by unhindered.  I looked back but the woman continued walking away from us, muttering under her breath.  The only word I could distinguish was ‘lolly’ which didn’t make any sense.

At City Hall we were met by a rather harassed looking young lady.  “Oh hello Mrs Dougherty, it’s good to see you again.  I know Dudley arrived earlier.  He got your message but I’m sure he will be tied up for quite a while.  Actually, since you’re here, you can save me going all the way down to the mailroom.  I have the papers you requested right here.  I was just about to post them off to you but you can take them with you and save me the legwork and City Hall the postage.  Thanks!”  The young lady thrust a large thick envelope into Alice’s hands and smiling broadly, hurried down the corridor.

Clutching the envelope, Alice walked back out the front door.  “It’s happening again.  Sims really think I’m someone else, don’t they?”

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“Yes they must do.  But this time we know where to find your doppelganger.  Let’s have a look at that envelope.  Hmm... Mrs Jayne Dougherty, 12 Catfish Flats Drive, Twinbrook.  She is most probably the Mrs D the patrol officer referred to.  Are you ready for this?  Do you feel up to seeing her?”

“Were you expecting this?”

“Another clone?” at her nod, I said, “No.  I hoped to find a clue as to why two different people had been directed here to find someone.  That’s all.  I swear.”

“It’s not meeting the clone that bothers me.  Cassie was really sweet, so I think Jayne will be too.  It’s the others.  Some Sims like the police officer and that girl have been very nice.  That Sim in the park was horrible.  But I can accept that too.  No, what bothers me is that the other Sims stare at me all the time, like I’m a freak.  I’m sick of that.”

“I understand.  How about when we’ve concluded our business here in Twinbrook, we go to Moonlight Falls where fairies are the norm and normal Sims are few and far between?”

“Really?  Can we do that?”

“I don’t see why not.  Come on.  Let’s go meet Jayne.”

Referring to the map included in the hire car’s welcome pack, we drove over to another part of town.  I could tell by the dilapidation of the houses we drove past that this section of town was much poorer.  Yet number 12 Catfish Flats Drive was a substantial two story whitewashed stucco house with a tiny greenhouse.

With the blanket of snow it was difficult to see if the yard was as neat and tidy as the house looked.  As we rang the doorbell, I could see that Alice was nervous even if she said she wasn’t afraid to meet Jayne.

As expected a Charity look-a-like came to the door and gaped as she opened it to see us better.

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“Oh my God!  You look just like me.  We must be twins.  I have a family!  Finally, I have someone who can tell me who I really am!”  Jayne’s exclamation was almost word for word what Cassie had said.

“Actually Jayne, I sort of hoped you could tell me who I was,” Alice said in what was obviously a ploy to avoid Jayne’s unanswerable questions.  Jayne’s face fell when she realised that Alice couldn’t help her.

“Oh well come on in,” she said.  “Would you like some coffee?”

“No, but thank you,” Alice said as I handed Jayne the envelope.

“A girl at City Hall gave Alice this but it’s for you,” I said looking around at the neat little house.  My eyes were drawn to a high chair and just as it was dawning on me that children lived in this house, a distinctive baby’s cry came from upstairs.

“Oh okay.  Just put it on the counter.  Sorry.  Someone needs a feed.  I’ll be right back?”

“Can we come up, please?” asked Alice.

“Yeah, sure,” said a distracted Jayne going up the stairs.  Alice and I followed her.  The first thing I saw was a little boy asleep in the swing.  He hadn’t been crying.  The cries emanated from a newborn pink little bundle of joy.  Jayne adeptly picked up the swaddled nooboo, changed her diaper and fed her, crooning to her all the while.  The little boy slept soundly through his sister’s feed.

“Oh she is so beautiful.  What’s her name?” cooed Alice.

“Hazel,” replied Jayne, “He’s Anthony,” she said pointing to the baby swing.

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“May I hold her?” asked Alice flushed with excitement.

“Sure.  You’ll need to support her head.  She’s not holding her head up yet.”

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Alice snuggling the pink bundle and clearly loving every minute of it, “Gosh she’s so adorable.  Look she’s going to have green wings.”

“My sister has green wings?” said Jane to her stunned audience.  On seeing the shock on my face, she stopped and thought about what she had just said.  “Oh my stars!  I don’t know why I said that!”

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“Did Charity’s sister have green wings?” Alice asked me holding Hazel carefully.

“Yes,” I replied thunderstruck.

“Okay enough of this,” said Jayne crossly taking Hazel from Alice.  “Go down stairs and wait for me.  I want to know what this is all about!  Don’t even think about doing a runner!  My husband is a police officer.  I will find you!”

We obediently waited downstairs for Jayne and when she sat down, she was abrupt with us.  “Okay talk fast but softly, two kids under three are hard enough to juggle.  Who are you two and who is Charity and what is this all about?!”

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I could tell by her crossed knees that Jayne was in no mood for nonsense.  Alice and I looked at each other.  I took the lead and told Jayne who we were.  I told her about meeting Alice in Sunset Valley and how we then met Cassie in Appaloosa Plains.  I told Jayne my theory that someone had made clones of Charity Kalamia, skilled them up, gave them a career, erased their memories and then sent them to different Sims towns.

“That’s sick!  Why would anyone do that?!” Jayne asked.  She was no longer annoyed with us but clearly astonished and appalled by our story.

“Alice and I came to Twinbrook hoping to pick up a clue to finding the location of the real Charity.  If we can find her, we may be able to answer that question,” I said.

Jayne thought for a moment.  “I’d like you both to stay so you can speak to Dudley.  He’s a police officer as I said.  He may have some information that could assist you or at least give credence or otherwise to your theory.”

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“That would be Dudley Racket?” I asked.

“Yes but he goes by the name of Dudley Dougherty now.”

I needed to find out if Jayne spoke Greek.  In Greek I asked Jayne if she loved Dudley, “Agapás Dudley?”

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“Fysiká!”  I was astounded when she replied ‘of course’ in Greek.

I decided to have another try, asking her if she remembered her sister with the green wings, “Thymásai tin aderfí sou me ta prásina fterá?” I asked hoping I got the syntax right.

“Óchi,” Jayne replied.  No.

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I persisted.  “Thymásai pou parakoloutheí tin Excelsior scholeío sto Sim Kosmo?”  Did Jayne remember attending the Excelsior School in Sim Kosmo?

“Óchi.”  No.

“Allá katalavaínete Elliniká?”  Yet you understand Greek?

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“Naí, profanós.”  Yes, obviously.

I’ll admit I stared at her, which was rude, but my mind was racing.

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I had two possibilities. One, my theory that only the real Charity would understand Greek had just been invalidated.  And that somehow, some place or sometime, Jayne had learned Greek before her memory had been erased.  Why was unknown. 

Or two, Jayne Dougherty was the real Charity Kalamia, who was now happily married to someone else, had two beautiful children, had amnesia and didn’t know who I was.  This time I was less than ‘Uncle Elias’.  I was Mr Nobody.

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Where there is love - there is life. -- Mahatma Gandhi

My Stories:
1. Duty Calls
2. Duty Calls Sequel: Islands of Sunset Valley
3. The Lady of the Lake
4. The Secret Time Traveler

Offline oshizu

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Re: The Secret Time Traveler
« Reply #58 on: January 13, 2017, 06:46:32 PM »
Poor, tragic Gobias! Through your story, I've become very attached to him and his quest(s).

Offline Magz from Oz

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Re: The Secret Time Traveler
« Reply #59 on: January 15, 2017, 06:36:07 PM »
Chapter 16 – Truth and Consequences

I sat there speechless as raw pain knifed through me.  It was Alice who said we would wait for Dudley Dougherty to come home so we could discuss our search for the truth.  That was sensible.  Even though we had probably found the real Charity, I still wanted to find out about the clones.

While I was lost in my anguish, Alice seemed to sense something was wrong.  To lighten the atmosphere as much as to pass the time, Alice said to Jayne, “I love classical music.  What kind of music do you like?”

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“I like all sorts of music.  I listen mostly to soul music though?”

“I guess with children, you don’t get much of a chance to practise.”

“I can play the guitar well enough for my own enjoyment I suppose, but I’m not a maestro.”

My ear pricked up.  “But you are a virtuoso, surely?”

“Not by a long shot!” Jayne chuckled at the thought.

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Unless Jayne had changed her traits, she couldn’t be the real Charity!  Charity was a virtuoso.  She had been from birth.  She had been so proud of that.  Also Charity preferred classical music, not soul.  My heart lightened.  “Have you changed your traits or preferences with a Lifetime reward or a Brain Enhancing Machine?”

“No, why would I?” replied Jayne.

After some discussion, we ascertained that Jayne had four of the five traits of the real Charity but she was a natural cook, not a virtuoso.  Moreover, Jayne’s preferences were completely different.  Jayne liked soul music, cobbler and the colour white.  Alice and Cassie, like Charity, had preferred classical music, lobster thermidor and hot pink.  But Alice, Cassie and Jayne, all shared Charity’s lifetime wish to be surrounded by family. 

Gavin Pinkerton had told me that with enough clones, you could get one that was different.  I thought he meant vastly different traits.  Such as the ‘dislikes children’ trait instead of the ‘family orientated’ trait.  The discovery of different preferences was new line of identification open to me. 

However, discovering traits and preferences took a lot more conversation and tact than I usually engaged in.  I knew how to ask questions, I’d been head of the Vice Squad before I gave up the law enforcement career.  Also it was far easier to play twenty questions in an interrogation room, where the detainee was expecting to be questioned.  It was much harder to question Sims in a social setting, even with the Never Dull lifetime reward.  It was Alice who had opened the line of questioning that elicited the facts is this instance.  She had been right.  She could help me find the truth.

I was deep in thought trying to figure things out while Jayne and Alice talked about the ups and downs of coping with their memory loss and Jayne’s foray into marriage and motherhood, which Alice unmistakably envied.  I listened to them with one ear as I formulated theories.

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I had to come up with another useful test on how to find out if a clone was a clone or the real Charity.  I would keep the questions in Greek.  That has served me well for Alice and Cassie.  Now I had the preference option as well.  I needed an arsenal of questions and tactics to identify the clones from the real Charity, because I couldn’t rely on the one thing that I thought would know for certain, my heart.

Actually that was the crux of my current quandary.  I always assumed that I would know in my own heart, when I was in the presence of the real Charity.  But twice I had been easily misled.  First, I had thought that Alice was Charity.  I had almost confessed my love for her.  Then, not more than fifteen minutes ago when I thought Jayne had been Charity.  I had felt devastated that Charity had found someone else.  Yet sitting here and evaluating the events rationally, I had felt more grief stricken than broken hearted.

Perhaps I was mourning the loss of the connection and camaraderie that Charity and I once had.  I know in my heart of hearts that I will always love Charity, but in what capacity?  Could the one certainty, I thought I knew about myself now be wrong?  Could my love for the real Charity have faded or changed with time and tide?  If I had still been head over heels in love with her, surely my heart would know it.  While my eyes and my head could be deceived, I expected my heart to intuitively know the truth.  I felt my heart had let me down.

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As I half listened to Jayne and Alice discuss children, I wondered did my heart know what it wanted?  I was beginning to doubt myself.  I knew I was particularly attracted to Alice.  I wondered why I never felt any attraction to Cassie.  Perhaps because I had never really suspected that Cassie could have been the real Charity.  Also I had been in the presence of Alice when I met Cassie, therefore I’d never really considered Cassie as a real possibility of being the real Charity. 

The attraction issue was clouding my judgement.  I really needed to sort that out.  If I am attracted to Alice only because she looks like Charity, why had I never felt remotely attracted to Cassie?  Nor, if I was absolutely truthful, had I been attracted to Jayne, even during those ghastly moments, when I thought she was the real Charity.

I guess I always assumed that as soon as I met the real Charity, she would recognise me even if she too, had had her memory wiped?  If I could not rely on my intuitive heart, what were my options?

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Thankfully, Dudley Dougherty arrived home at that point so stop me tying myself in knots with questions I couldn’t answer.

“Hi Sweetheart, I’m home,” he called out as he walked in.  “Oh you’re right there.  And we have company.  Sorry about the body-suit, I’ll just wash up and be with you in a couple of minutes.”  I saw his eyes taking in everything including the mirror image of his wife sitting beside me.  I would hate to play poker with this Sim because not one muscle moved in his face when he saw Alice.

“Dudley is the head of the Forensics Unit in Twinbrook,” Jayne said proudly as her husband went into another room, which judging by the sounds of a shower must be a bathroom.  Typical of many career police officers, he showered quickly and returned to stand beside his wife.

Hello, I’m Dudley Dougherty as I’m sure my wife has told you.  How may I be of assistance?”  I stood up to greet him.

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“Hello Dudley, my name is Gobias Koffi and this is my good friend Alice White.  As you can see, Alice is the image of your wife, Jayne.  Despite how this looks, Alice is not related in any way to your wife.  Both Alice and Jayne and another Sim we located in Appaloosa Plains are most probably clones of a fairy called Charity Deborah Kalamia, who once lived in Moonlight Falls.  Would you prefer that we discuss my theories in private?”

“Not on my account, Gobias.  Take a seat,” Dudley said sitting down.  “If whatever you have to say is relevant to Jayne’s circumstances, she would like to hear it.”  Then he chuckled, “Unless it’s classified information, Jayne would probably wring it out of me anyway, so she may as well hear it firsthand.”  Jayne smiled and patted her husband’s knee.

Dudley Dougherty was a good deal different than I’d imagined.  I had expected an adult Sim.  After all he’d been a Lieutenant years ago when the Curleys visited Twinbrook.  At first glance Dudley was not particularly handsome.  His face was weathered and lined, but his eyes were kind and gentle, his voice soft but no-nonsense, and the love for his wife was instantly recognisable with every glance he directed her way.  I liked him immediately.  I unreservedly felt that I could trust this Sim.

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“I understand.  Alice would do the same to me.  Okay.  I said Charity once lived in Moonlight Falls because her family, that is, her father and sister, were led to believe that she had died.  However, it’s my personal theory that Charity had been abducted by her ex-husband, Myles Kyrios, and that a clone had died in her place.  Both Charity’s tombstone and the tombstone of her mother, Deborah Rebekah Kalamia, who had died of natural causes, are no longer in the graveyard at Moonlight Falls.  I believe that Deborah’s tombstone was taken to use to coerce Charity to submit to cloning.”

“Any theories on why this Sim would clone and abduct his ex-wife?  Was he violent?”

“Not to her.  Actually it’s complicated.  He is a wizard.  He is also evil.  When they first met, Charity rejected Myles’ advances so he seduced her with a love charm.  She became putty in his hands and they were married the next day.  Charity’s sister told me that Myles cheated on Charity on their honeymoon.  The marriage did not last and Myles left Moonlight Falls.  Charity, who was still under the enchantment was distraught.  Such was Charity’s misery, that it was her sister’s theory that Charity took a Potent Cure Elixir to forsake the Fae and then tried to repair a broken dishwasher with no handiness skill.”

“But you think differently, don’t you?”

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“Yes.  I think Charity was forced to submit to a Clone Drone elixir and it was her clone who was somehow coerced into trying to repair the broken dishwasher.  I think it was the clone who died.”

“Why?”

“It was a ploy so that Myles could abduct Charity without anybody lifting a finger to stop him.  Nobody suspected anything.  Sims thought that Myles was long gone and everybody knew that Charity was deeply depressed.  It was easy for him.  Since then, I believe that Myles has created a number of clones.  Not simultaneously, but months or years apart.  Perhaps he is trying to create a clone of Charity that suits his purpose, whatever that may be.”

“That’s one heck of a story Gobias.  What do you believe is his motive in creating the clones of his ex-wife?”

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“I don’t have any idea.  But Myles was very particular about seducing Charity.  I think he went to Moonlight Falls specifically to find Charity or a fairy like her.”

“Why?”

“I can only speculate.  But my theory is because he needed a fairy he could easily manipulate or dominate.”  I couldn’t very well say that I believed that Dahlia Goodfellow was used to lure Charity out to that fire pit at Varg’s Tavern.  I think Dahlia resisted and that’s why she was slapped.  Gator just got in Myles’ way and that was why he had been turned into a toad.  But that all happened before Charity met Myles, so I think Charity had been his target from the beginning.  So I said to Dudley, “Charity had become a little reckless after her mother died.  Her father was overseas, her younger sister involved in her own fledgling career and Charity was lonely and grieving.”

“Okay that suggests she was vulnerable.  Was he unattractive?”

“Not at all.”

“So why go to the trouble of procuring a clone to provide a body.  If Myles had just walked back into Charity’s life and asked her to go with him, would she have gone with him?”

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“Yes I believe so.  I believe the clone was necessary so that her family and friends would not try to visit her at wherever Myles was planning to take her.  If Charity had just left town, her father and sister would regularly visit her.  They were very close.  If they believed she was dead, they wouldn’t be concerned if they had not heard from her.  Myles had previously cursed some of her friends when they tried to help her.”

“Logical.  But why seduce her with a love charm in the first place.  Surely a good looking Sim could seduce a vulnerable Sim without too much effort.”

“Charity was behaving recklessly, but she wasn’t stupid.  The night she met him, she wanted to go home but went to the restroom first.  She was lured out to where he was waiting, she didn’t voluntarily walk into danger.” 

“How do you know this?” asked Jayne.

“There were two reliable eye witnesses?”

“How reliable?” asked Dudley.

“Very.”

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“Any theories about this Myles character?  Where was he from?  Where would he go?  How did he present himself?”

“I believe he is an evil great wizard.”  I noticed Dudley’s eyebrows arch at that statement but he didn’t interrupt me so I continued.  “Nobody knows where he came from.  He presented with a fake Etonian accent which slipped whenever he was angry.  Myles and Charity allegedly honeymooned in England where he said he originated, but this was unproven.  No travel documents were ever found to substantiate the honeymoon trip.  No tourist or working visas were ever issued in the name of Myles Kyrios.”

“Well I can run the names past our databases and see if I get a hit.”  Good luck with that I thought.  I did that myself but nothing showed up.  “How long ago did this happen?” continued Dudley.

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“Charity allegedly died twenty years ago.”

“And who is Charity to you?”

“I knew her family.  I became very close to her sister.  Charity’s death haunts her still.”

“Twenty years is a long time ago.  Sims’ memories of events changes focus over time.  How reliable is their recollection of the events you’ve described?”

“Very reliable.  There was a police file created by a Captain Stavros of the Moonlight Falls Police Department that documented the events.  He placed it in the IDS database.”  Once again Dudley’s eyebrows arched upwards, the International Dissidents System was a database known only to a handful of high ranking police officers and military personnel.

“Well I can access that system from my computer upstairs.  But we’ll need Captain Stavros’ password.”

“I have the password.”  Dudley’s eyebrow arched upwards again.

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“Okay we’ll give it a go.  Come with me.” 

Just as we stood up, both of the babies upstairs awoke.  Probably one woke up crying which woke the other.  Upstairs it was crying in stereo.  Alice immediately said to Jayne, “Can I help you with the babies?”

“That would be wonderful.  You feed and change Anthony and put him to bed while I attend to Hazel.”

Dudley and I followed Jayne and Alice who sprinted up the stairs.  Just beyond the nursery was a nook with two desks with computers.  One other thing I noticed was the wildflowers.  Jayne had the same passion for them that Charity and Alice had.

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Dudley called up his database and entered his codes, scrolling through each database and entering codes until he found the IDS database.  There he entered yet another code.

“Okay we’re in.  What part of the IDS database should I be accessing?”

“Search for the file marked Kyrios.  It has a mauve alert1 label.”  Dudley’s eyebrow muscles were working overtime.  I knew that he knew exactly what that meant.  Good.  I wouldn’t have to explain the level of the danger we were dealing with.  I was thankful that I had the foresight to put that file there when I had the chance. 

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“Gobias,” Jayne said coming out of the nursery holding Hazel.  “You do realise that kýrios is the Greek word for master, don’t you?”

I nodded.  Modern surnames often had career origins.  The Wainwrights were an obvious example.  Then what she was saying struck home.  Oh my God, how could I have missed that!  Dear heavens, what has been unleashed on the Simverse!

EDIT: 1 Dr Who, The Empty Child (2005) Series 1 Episode 9 (Story # 164)
Where there is love - there is life. -- Mahatma Gandhi

My Stories:
1. Duty Calls
2. Duty Calls Sequel: Islands of Sunset Valley
3. The Lady of the Lake
4. The Secret Time Traveler