A Copy of the Message

Abigail walked to Mac Caster.

“Mac Caster.” Abigail waited until Mac Caster was able to tear his eyes from the flimsy. “Would you like a copy of the message you sent Loran?”

“Message? Message I sent?” Mac Caster whispered.

Abigail handed him the message.

Loran,

I await your commands.

Mac Caster

Mac Caster sighed. “That about says it all.

Thank you Abby.”

That night Murra celebrated.

“Wait!” Hyrum shouted. “What if Loran wants to continue on the Bliss?”

Donald shoved a chair under Mac Caster, who had gone pale and was swaying.

“She won’t.” Hyrum decided. “I need her here. She can handle birds like no one else.”

Murra began meeting every night, and Shane joined them. She acted as referee.

The members were trying to put together a schedule. A way to explore all of the ideas and plans that they hadn’t had a chance to do yet.

“A big problem, when the kids are home, is that while working on one idea, hundreds more are added.” Dion glanced at his notepad. “In a little over three years, we have 9,781 viable ideas and suggestions. But we have only explored and implemented 1,782 of them.”

All 17 members began talking at once. Their voices got louder and louder.

A Copy of the Message

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