PW01 - Died On The Vine Read Free Page A

cloak for their identities. Try finding a writer who can keep from bragging about a sale or a byline! Even I am unable to keep from identifying myself as the Cecilia Rayburn who authored the players manuals for the “Kingdom of Qu’aot” fantasy adventure series. When Dan, my youngest, was in high school, it was my one claim to fame. Our aliases are more a matter of nicknames, so I’m familiar with the background and real names of the chattiest of the net users.
    I printed all the responses to show to Jack later. There seemed to be two opinions about Colonel Obie Winslow, which were best expressed by Cincinnatus and Wizard.
    Cincinnatus is a right-wing gun nut and Tom Clancy wannabe. Based in Colorado, he writes techno-thrillers. I’ve checked him out of the library and discovered that his mediocre success is the logical outcome of mediocre talent.
    Remembering what Chuck said about conspiracy theorists, I wasn’t surprised to find Cincinnatus firmly in Winslow’s corner. “Obie Winslow is an AMERICAN HERO,” he wrote, “who will take on anyone, whether it be the North Vietnamese or the US Government, to bring OUR BOYS BACK! He is a man of DEEP FAITH and COMMITMENT who has never wavered from his task and deserves more support from the INDIFFERENT AMERICAN PUBLIC!” On the internet, capital letters are considered rude, a form of shouting. But the group has given up trying to teach manners to Cincinnatus.
    The opposing view was articulated by Wizard. Wizard is a fourteen year old boy from California who gained admittance to the group by virtue of being “the first freshman newspaper editor in the history of Westlake High.” He’s also president of the Science Club and was just awarded the position of editor of the yearbook.
    Wizard labeled Winslow “either a nut or a con man, maybe both. He talks a lot about evidence, but have we seen any MIAs returned through his efforts? I think not! His latest ‘rescue mission’ was a total fiasco, with a bunch of nutty Soldier of Fortune types winding up in a Laotian jail. He was profiled a few months ago in USN≀ you should look it up.”
    You’ve got to like a kid who reads US News & World Report.
    And Steve, a food columnist from D.C. who has so far been too diffident to coin a flamboyant alias, advised me to “look up Mary Nguyen. She’s done a lot of research on Winslow. I think she’s freelance, but I’ve seen her stuff in the Post, so they probably know how to contact her.”
    I logged off and wandered out to the kitchen. Professionally, I’m in the middle of a lull. I’d long finished my least favorite annual project, writing the user’s manual for a tax preparation software package that’s updated annually. I know a lot more about taxes than I really want to know as a result, and don’t ever let me get on the subject of the inequities of the tax code on the self-employed.
    In a month or so, if the kids at EveryWare would ever finish the coding, I would start on the manual for Qu’aot VIII (The Archbishop’s Revenge).
    For now I could do projects that I have been putting off, such as landscaping, building shelves, or trying that crocheted sweater pattern than my friend Julia swears is not as hard as it looks.
    Or not. I decided on not. Calling Polly, I decided to go down by the river and see if the bald eagles had yet returned to the loblolly pines and then go to Julia’s for a chat.
    It was a chilly day, but definitely spring. Polly thundered through the underbrush, glad for a run.
    Polly is my dog. I first met her several years ago when I went to the vet’s office to get shots for McCavity, our old tabby. I found the vet and the receptionist cooing over a tiny pup which was being fed from a baby’s bottle. The puppy was just days old, her eyes were barely open. Doc Harding told me she’d been found in the dumpster.
    She didn’t sound surprised. I guess vets are used to finding unwanted animals dumped somewhere on the property. But I was outraged.