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“He doesn’t tell me where he goes. Just orders me around!” “A passenger? Not…the police?” She laughed in a high shrill tone. “Cops? Him? You’ve got to be kidding! He HATES cops! There isn’t a police station in fifty miles, anyway. Only state troopers come all the way out here, and you wouldn’t catch them *dead* near *this* house. Ha!” It apparently hadn’t occurred to her to ask why I was concerned about the police. “No, he’ll eat and then he’ll leave with the passenger, but he won’t be gone long, damn him! I wish he’d ride off on that noisy, stinking bike and never come back!” “What is he to you?” I moved into the kitchen and took my jacket from the chair where I had left it, the house had grown chilly. “Does this house belong to your family?” Shouldering into the jacket, I crossed the room to peer out the window. Nothing was visible but a portion of the driveway beyond the rise of the veranda. The Firebird was gone. “Of course it does!” she snapped, dumping several handsful of. I thought it was an absolutely fabulous idea, and after some consideration, Brenda concurred. But again Fred laid down some strict guidelines. I would be left to pack up the household items here for the move, while Brenda would pick some things of mine from the big house which I would be allowed to have in our "new home." There wouldn't be many, he warned. My old life was gone. There was nothing in my new life except dedication to my Master.After we'd talked some more, and it was obvious that dinner had officially ended, I got up and started doing the dishes and cleaning the kitchen. Left alone with my thoughts, I once again considered my utter joy at my new freedom. But when I had finished in the kitchen and walked into the living room only to find it empty, I followed faint noises until I finally found Fred and Brenda in the master bedroom. Those noises begged a certain degree of cautious stealth, and I tiptoed to the doorway and peeked around the corner into the room. Sitting on a.
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