So I decided to try my hand at this. Do I have enough written yet to be posting? Not really. And my success at writing has been abysmal lately. However, bear with me and we'll see what we see. (Gee, with that intro, who could resist? )

The rating is more for violent suggestions and general gloominess than anything, but don't worry! There's joy in here somewhere, I think. And it is J/S, B/T, but in a roundabout sort of way.

As one final selling point for the story, something terrible happened to my computer and I'm stuck writing in WordPad (i.e., no spelling or grammar check). I apologize in advance for errors; I've tried very hard to catch them all.

*******************************

2107

The girl three cots down from him was beaten to death this morning. He didn't know why, and he didn't care. Some long-forgotten part of his soul, the part that used to be human, cried that he must know, that he must care about the loss of another's life, but he refused to listen. He was not human anymore...more servant, more animal than anything else. Caring was for people who had the luxury. Had he ever cared? Had he ever felt anything? For a brief moment an image flickered in his mind of a young man and woman playing happily in the park with a very small little boy, but he ruthlessly pushed the memory away. Besides, if he let himself study the picture any longer he would notice the lines of worry around the woman's eyes and the constant vigilance on the man's face (watching, planning). There had always been fear, for as long as he could remember. Then there was separation, and death, and heartbreak. Then there was nothing. Nothing, he had decided, was much easier. Caring hurt. And it got you killed.

Mechanically he made his way to his work station. He would arrive on time because he was always on time. Being late was irresponsible and foolish; why die for something so easily remedied? Work was easy and safe, if you did it right. The trick was to not think about anything. Standing in front of his console...always standing, no sitting or leaning allowed during the twelve-hour shift except for the thirty-minute lunch break...he performed his job by rote, punching buttons and guiding the lasers that did the work for him. Every day, every minute, every second was the same...press the button to feed the assembly, check that the device was lined up correctly, turn on the automated laser system, turn off the automated laser system, check to make sure the lasers had worked correctly, press the button to move the device on to the next step in the process. Back when he still cared, he had wondered why people were even necessary to this process. Couldn't the computer system manage the assembly line and check the device as well (or even better) than he did? He had asked, tentatively, and brief whispers from a worried coworker in a shadowed doorway had explained that it had been tried that way, but the computer had messed up. A defective device had been placed in a private helo, and the family had died. Now the human step was required to do the independent thinking that even the best of computers couldn't acquire, at least not with the safety measures in place.

This same coworker (worried, always worried) revealed that safety measures on computers were necessary because the artificial intelligence experiments had been a spectacular failure. Not that the robots weren't capable of learning human thought processes; they had been good at it...too good, in fact. The robots had acted in a manner that had frightened their creators, and the experiments were stopped. Barriers were put in place to insure that no computer could ever think or act independently. Human labor was brought in to handle the steps that the newly restrained computers couldn't manage. "We were cheaper, anyway," his coworker whispered angrily, "and in the end, they still got programmed robots who can't think beyond their limitations..."

The coworker had disappeared the following week.

It surprised him, remembering those events today. He hadn't thought of that conversation in a long time. His coworker's disappearance had been another in a long list of lessons: don't think, don't listen, don't ask. Stop caring, because caring gets people hurt. With a brief shake of his head, he returned to the task before him: press the button, examine, laser, examine, press the button...

Throughout the morning he had the recurring feeling that someone was watching him, but he did his best to ignore it. Maybe someone was watching him; they were all observed constantly. If he was being watched, it was best not to know. Still the feeling continued, oddly comforting rather than oppressive. At last unable to resist, he raised his head from his task and glanced around.

There. Two stations down at a monitor facing him there was a new girl, most likely a replacement for the one who died this morning. He wasn't sure how she managed it in this environment, but she was pretty...creamy skin, lightly curling blond hair, laughing eyes...and she was looking at him. She smiled when she saw him glance up, those blue eyes (Sky blue? It had been so long that he couldn't remember) making promises: Share a secret with me...it will be fun! Nobody has to know what we think inside ourselves...

He frowned, shook his head slightly, and returned to his work. That was how people got hurt. She would learn in time. Still, he couldn't help glancing at her again. Her eyes had dimmed just a bit, and he felt that same (useless, hopeless) part of his human soul cry out because he had caused some of her light to die. She wasn't giving up, however; she smiled again when she saw him watching. This time he looked away and didn't glance back, but his thoughts remained.

Lunch break came, and she did exactly what he thought she would: she approached him as they were walking toward the serving line. He wanted to push her away, for her safety as well as his own. Where was she from, anyway? Didn't she know that anything...anything...that made her stand out was a death sentence? And he would be guilty by association...

Then she was standing in front of him, holding out her hand. "Hi. I'm Emma."

Ocean blue. He had seen the ocean once, back in that time that he tried not to remember. Her eyes were ocean blue. He looked into those impossibly blue eyes as a feeling of inevitability settled in the place that used to hold his heart. He took her hand, knowing that she was going to change things, absolutely certain that his (miserable, pointless) life was about to be thoroughly shaken from the ground up.

"Chase Jackson Hudson."

Oh wow, Ami! What a nice surprise this was to discover!!! Very very intriguing start, my friend! Count me in.

Great...just wrote a whole wordy post and it wouldn't post it. So I'll summarize.

Count me in...anything you're writing I'm going to read regardless of what form it's in. WordPad or whatever.

Great start...kind of edgy and brings up lots of questions.

Ponderings:
Thought that might have been Myles at first.
Will be curious to find out if you've placed the team in 2107 or their future descendants.
Emma...hmmm!?!?

Seriously, Ami, thanks for writing. It's been a long time.

How could I resist with such a intriguing beginning....and then there's the story...

I know better than to even begin to think about what's going on. My imagination is several sub-levels below yours. I look forward to wherever you take us!

You've got another on board here, Ami (stop laughing at me, Tina). Intriguing start that's left me feeling... I don't know the word for it right now. Trace, got an empty chair beside you? I might need some hand-holding on this one...

Good heavens Ami I'm still not recovered from those scary people in that Halloween story. I think this is not bedtime reading so that is a great excuse to get up early and read before work (because not much is scarier than work)!

Great start and very intriquing!! I'm here for the ride!!!

Joy

Well, I'm hooked already and you barely even started, altough I'm a little surprised to see a new rerio story without Myles in it (or sould I just shut my mouth and practice patience?) I can only echo Pam and say that I haven't recovered from the Holloween Challenge either but I still can't wait for more!

You said gloominess and you were right, it reminded me a little of the Dune prequels with the computers taking over, but I'm probably alone in the sci-fi zone.
I'm intruiged, and I can't wait for more! Very happy that you're writing a new story!

Glad to see you taking up the challenge rerio - I always love your stories! I only wish I had more time to go back and read all the ones I've missed. Some day... Keep up the great start! Your first post has definitely captured my attention.

Sitting right beside you, JP, hand's a little clammy but it's got a strong grip.

:eek jaw drops: BOBBY/Tara?!!? WOW!! What is the world coming to when Ami is writing B/T?!


No matter what it is coming to, so long as it's somewhere where I can either read your story!!

You know Ami I'm surprised about Bobby/Tara also. You were my whole Myles/Tara inspiration because I didn't want to come out with anyone else and now your switching sides? Hmmm...

I haven't read Dunes I was thinking Brave New World or 1984 (which I read in high school before 1984).

Waiting for more!

Oh my rapturous heart be still!!!! A rerio story in the works Someone revive me when she posts again!!! because I'm still on the floor from reading B/T I mean there were just some things I always thought I could count on: like it always raining in torrents when I garden and rerio being M/T. It's not just the frost threatening cold that has me shivering.

kav

Wow, I had no idea M/T meant that much to so many of you! Well, you can relax: the B/T in this story is really, really tiny. Blink and you'll miss it. I couldn't stand to write any more of it than I had to! I pretty much left the relationships the way they were at the end of the show because it made things easier.

And I hope you all enjoy the story. I'm sure you've all noticed that I've been gone for awhile. I've had some things happen over the past several months that...I won't say they shook my confidence, but they changed me. I haven't written anything of significance in a long time, and it's much harder to pick up than I imagined it would be. This is NOT meant to be a self-pity statement or a plea for support; I just wanted to warn you all that I might not remember how to do this. Having said that, thanks for the warm welcome back. It means a lot.

************************************


Her eyes sparkled with gentle laughter. "Well, Chase Jackson Hudson, why don't you take me to lunch." Without giving him a chance to refuse, she tightened her hand around his and pulled him toward the serving line. He knew he should stop her; he knew that any sign of friendship or personal interest down here was as good as a death warrant, but he couldn't make himself take his hand away. How long had it been since someone had touched him in kindness? The only hands he saw these days were hurtful ones...denying, grasping, beating...

"Chase?" She was waving her free hand in front of his face. When he refocused his gaze on her, she smiled. "Good. I lost you there for a second." Surveying the food that was being being slopped into bowls for the people ahead of them, she grimanced. "Not that I blame you for wanting to escape from this joke they call 'lunch'. The swill I used to feed the pigs on the farm looked more appetizing than this."

In spite of himself, he found his interest captured. "You worked on a farm?" For the second time in just a few hours, he remembered that day in the park. Sunshine...blue sky...

She nodded. "It was hard work, but it was definitely better than this." For just a moment her smile seemed to slip, but then she squared her shoulders with determination and stepped forward in line. "So we'll eat lunch. It can't be that bad."

Having eaten the same meal for so many years that he couldn't remember, he wasn't sure about that. Still, it was the only food there was, so he followed her. At least she had enough sense not to talk to him while they were standing in front of the guards.

By the time they had gotten their food and found a quiet place to sit, they only had a few minutes left to eat before break was over. Still, he was glad they had gotten any food at all; latecomers usually went hungry. Her magical hold over him continued as they ate; for the first time in a very long while, he wanted to know about something. He wanted to know about her. "Tell me about the farm," he prompted.

Emma smiled and looked off into the distance, her eyes unfocused. "As I said, it was a pig farm." She wrinkled her nose. "What a smell! You get used to it, though...eventually. And the baby piglets were really cute. The hours were long, like here, but the food was definitely better. We had a vegetable garden, so we ate fresh veggies several times a week."

His stomach grumbled in longing. "I don't remember the last time I ate vegetables."

Her eyes were sympathetic. "Then we won't talk about it anymore; besides, it makes me homesick."

"Was it your home, then?" He was surprised. Most people here never had homes...or worked hard at forgetting them, like he did.

She shrugged. "The only one I can remember. It was a foundling home."

So she was an orphan, then. It wasn't by any means an unusual thing, but it made him sad all the same. She had no memories of a young man and woman and a day at the park. "You don't remember your parents?"

"No. I don't even know their names. That's why you have 'Chase Jackson Hudson' and I'm just Emma." She smiled, but there was a lost expression in her eyes that she couldn't quite hide.

Today was a day for firsts, apparently. For the first time in many, many years, Chase reached out to another human being. He placed his hand over hers and pressed gently. "I like Emma."

She smiled again, but this time it was unlike anything he had ever seen. The sheer brilliance of it almost made his heart (that poor, forgotten instrument) start beating again. He decided he would do just about anything to keep her smiling like that. His overwhelmed mind questioned wildly how one girl could break through the defenses he'd spent a lifetime building, but before he had time to pursue that thought the bell sounded to signify the end of lunch. He rose quickly, taking Emma's bowl from her and gesturing that she should return to her station. She tried to protest, but he waved her off. Finally she gave in, but before she left she reached out to place her hand against his cheek. "I like you too, Chase." Then she was gone.

The feel of her cool hand against his skin stayed with him all afternoon.

First off all, I can't tell you how happy this:makes me!! I refrained from commenting because I didn't want to overreact.

I'm so curious about where Chase and Emma are exactly, and why. And how are they related to the members of our team??? Looking forward to more, Ami!

Ami, I am soooo glad you're back and thanks for sharing a little about life. You know we'll take you in any way, shape or form.

I love Emma. It's like she's breathing life back into Chase Jackson Hudson. Also looking forward to how you'll be bringing the rest in...obviously Tara and Bobby will make an appearance at some point.

More please...

I read this one at bedtime and I'm not even scared! Couldn't read this morning - big storm (OK and I was scared of that).

I can do B/T I just really love your M/T! I will wait with much anticipation for more!

I am so glad you are back writing! You haven't lost a thing! This is spellbinding, riveting stuff and I can't wait to see where it is going!

Jill

Like the rest of us...I'm trying to figure out where is and what exactly this future looks like. For some silly reason - I keep seeing "The Terminator" or something out of the "The Giver". Anyways...love where this is going and I'm so happy to see a story up by you Ami!!

Looking forward to more, as always!!

Are you suggesting that some of us are prone to overreacting?!!? can't imagine who that might be. Well my world has been righted AND it's even sunny in my neck of the woods. I couldn't ask for anything more...except maybe some more of your story!

I'm definitely feeling sad for Sue right now -- isn't that strange? Because I'm assuming that Chase is her great grandson or something and she would have wanted so much more for him Unless I'm way off base here in which case feel free to post again and ease my sorrow!!!

kav

Yea, I'm seeing visions of the Terminator flashing through at the moment...


I take it not ALL the humans are in such morebid circumstances, because it was mentioned that there were privately owned "helis" (Helicoptors? ) and presumably the guards are human....sooooo.....what makes these people so "special" ?

I have lots of questions, but I know if I keep reading, I'll find the answers!!

You've pulled me in and I'm here for the whole ride!!!

Joy

Kav, I'm speculating with you girlfriend and "trying not to overreact."

Well, this is spellbinding, I agree and I just can't wait to see where you take us, I'll be here for the ride!

Rerio's back! I have to agree with Bigfan...I'll take any of your stories in any way, shape or form!

Unsure about what's happening, but still here. Just had switch sides with Trace though so I could hold on with my other hand. I tried to break my pinkie pruning trees tonight. *sigh* We'll know by morning just how much damage I did. So, typing's a bit awkward, but I'm here! Hope to see more soon!

What a post rerio. I truly am in awe of the way you can weave words together to create such a beautiful flow of language, in this case I particularly admire how you have described Chase and his emotions (or lack thereof). Thanks for returning to writing to share this for us. Your first installments of this story have posed so many questions for me - but I think that's just a sign of good writing! So I'll be here waiting for answers.

OOH! the title just struck me! My money's on the idea that Chase'll have an emotional liberation before we are through here!

JP? You broke your pinkie while pruning???? Okay, that's it! No more gardening for you or Kav!!! Just put down the pruning shears and step away!!

*****************************


The gentle memory of her hand was what prompted him to seek her out that evening. Of course, he didn't admit that, even to himself. She'd been absent at dinner, and he told himself he was just checking on her because he was concerned. Never mind that he didn't "do" concerned. Never mind that she had the prettiest eyes he'd ever seen...sighing, disgusted with himself, he deliberately shut down his thoughts and kept looking for her.

She was hiding in an alcove in one of the back hallways. It was an ideal place; he'd used it himself a time or two, before he'd learned how to hide in public. She looked up at him with hollow eyes...had she been crying? He was fascinated - angry at himself, but fascinated just the same. He didn't remember how to cry...

Her anguished face drew him away from thoughts of his own shortcomings. Time to focus on something other than yourself, Hudson. Sitting beside her, he reached out to wipe the tears from her cheeks. "What's wrong?" he asked, trying to remember how to speak gently.

She sniffed. "I was stupid enough to ask someone about the girl whose place I took."

He winced. "Ward 19, bed 21?"

She looked up at him. "Yes! You knew her?"

Quickly he shook his head. "No." At her questioning gaze, he continued hesitantly, "I sleep just a few beds down." There was no separation by gender in the wards; they lost too many workers each day to keep track. The guards were around to make sure that order was maintained.

"They said she died." Emma was studying him, fearful but wanting an answer.

"Yes." His voice was curt.

"How?" She was relentless.

He didn't want to tell her. He didn't; he didn't. "They killed her."

Tears filled her eyes. "Why?" Her voice broke with the sorrow of it.

He wanted to look away, but he couldn't. "I don't know."

It was the disappointment on her face (disappointment in him) that did it - that, and the despair that hovered around the edges. He couldn't bear to see her like this, not when she'd been so full of life just a few hours earlier. He spoke gruffly, unused to giving comfort. "The first night down here always gets to you, but you can't let it. You have to focus on the good things."

She was looking at him, her only hope while facing a lifetime of darkness. "Like what?"

Like what, indeed? What good did he possibly have to offer her, except...his eyes narrowed as an idea formed. It could be a trap. She could be a spy, sent here to discover his secrets. It had been done before. Others had fallen for it, and he'd smirked at them for being trusting fools. Well, call him a fool then, because he'd bet his life that she wasn't a spy. He ignored the rational part of his brain that screamed at him that his life was exactly what he was risking and held out his hand. "Come on."

She let him pull her to her feet. "Where are we going?"

"I want to show you something." He refused to elaborate and headed down the hallway into the darkness. He relied on instinct, using his senses to find the way, taking unnecessary turns and detours just to be safe. She might be trustworthy, but it still paid to be cautious. She followed him blindly, never once asking why he felt the need to walk farther and farther into the dark. She either felt the same strange connection that he did, or she was too stupid for her own good.

Finally they reached their destination. He stopped, hesitating. "Close your eyes."

The disbelief in her voice filled the cavern. "Are you serious? It's so dark in here that I can't see a millimeter in front of my face!"

He grunted, amused. "I wondered if you'd noticed. Do you always follow strange men into dark hallways?" When she didn't reply immediately, he continued, a little hurt. "Forget it; you're safe. I may have my faults, but I don't molest innocents."

Her whispered "Pity," almost too soft for him to hear, went a long way toward soothing his injured feelings. Then she replied, her voice stronger. "I'm not afraid of you."

He tried to hide his pleasure with gruffness. "You should be."

She laughed softly. "Do you need to do some more male posturing, or can you tell me why you brought me here? And yes," she continued before he could speak, "my eyes are closed."

Her quick wit caught him by surprise and he laughed, which stunned him. How long had it been since that happened? Shrugging away the question, he bent quickly and retrieved the object he wanted to show her from its hiding place. Taking her hand, he pulled her toward a place around the corner where the light was stronger.

True to her word, her eyes were still closed. "You know, as much as I'm enjoying this macho grunt routine-"

"Look," he interrupted her, eager to show her his treasure now that they'd come this far.

She opened her eyes and looked down at the box he held in his hands. It was a simple, wooden thing, but the shine and feel of it indicated that it had been built many years ago by a master craftsman. He held his breath, but he needn't have worried. She immediately realized how important it was. "This is beautiful!" she whispered. Reverently she reached out a finger to touch the lid. "Where did you find it?"

He'd never shown this box to anyone; it was hard to speak around the lump in his throat. "It was my mother's."

Her eyes flew to his. "You remember your mother?" She blushed. "Of course. Chase Jackson Hudson. Sorry - it was a stupid question."

"No," he countered. "I could have made up my name; lots of people do. But yes, I remember her...my father, too."

"What were they like?" She was so pathetically eager that it would have broken his heart, if he'd had one. All interest in the box was lost as she sought answers about people who had no relevance to her.

"They were good people. My mother was very pretty..." his voice trailed away and he swallowed, hard.

Sensing that he'd reached his limit, she nodded. "So tell me about the box."

He took a deep breath. "I grabbed it the day my parents died and the soldiers took me away. I was lucky that they didn't find it. There were a lot of us that day, and they didn't have things organized very well. First chance I got, I hid it down here."

"And you've kept it all this time," she murmured, wonder and sorrow equally mixed in her voice.

"Yes. It opens, but there's nothing in it. Here." He pressed a button on the side, showing her the elegant lining of the empty box.

She touched it gently, her eyes intent on something only she could see. "One of the other children at the farm had something like this. I wonder..." Before he could stop her, she took the box from his hands and was pressing it with her fingers. He saw part of the wood give way on the side and opened his mouth to protest, but she stopped him. "No, don't worry! It's supposed to do this, see? It's a hidden drawer."

To his shock, he discovered that she was right. The wooden panel swung open, revealing a small hiding place. "There's something in it!" he whispered, unsure if he should be amazed or terrified.

She looked up at him. "You didn't know?"

He shook his head. Gingerly he reached into the space and pried the two objects loose. One was a Bible - a New Testament. He shared a glance with Emma. He'd never seen one of these before, but he knew what it was. He also knew that the penalty if it were found in his possession was instant death, and he could tell from her expression that she knew it as well. He opened the front cover and read the writing there. Rose Elizabeth Hudson. His mother. Without saying a word, he slipped the Bible back into its hiding place.

Emma was looking at the other item he was holding. "I think it's a journal," she said softly.

There were words on the front, obscured by dust. He rubbed at them with his hand, trying to bring them to the surface. Then the letters were clear, and he heard himself take a deep breath as he looked at what they revealed: Journal of Sue Hudson, Summer 2007.

Why did I find that so scary? Oh Ami this is so good I can hardly stand it!

Janet surely the trees didn't need pruning that bad and since I think you have a few hundred of them please don't break anything else.

*gasp*
If Rose Elizabeth was his mother, was Sue his grandmother? Was Rose
Jack and Sue's child?
I love the interaction between Chase and Emma.

I got chills reading that last part, Ami! This story is so riveting and I'm looking forward to finding out Emma and Chase's exact connections to the team.

I've done all the pruning I can for now... next step is Dad with his chain saw!

I'm not too sure about the setting...it's kinda creeping me out just a tad....but I'm glad Chase found his mother's New Testament, and (grandmother's?) journel! This is getting more interesting and more creepy at the same time!

The tension and uncertanity in the last post was palpable!

More! More! More! Oh, I sooooo can't wait to see where you take us, Ami!

cath

what is this? global week of small gardening accidents? I'm supposed to help dad today with our tiny little piece of grass...maybe I should rain check on this one...

Ami, this is so awsome...the reality they face on a daily basis is horrible and now I believe they found the ultimate hopefull thing...memories from a centuary away! it's beautiful, I love it!

Janet, keep your fingers away from that chainsaw -- June 1 is rapidly approaching!!!

Ami I'm just about jumping out of my skin with excitement. And Chase said 'down here' -- does that mean underground? And I know this is long after Jack and Sue were alive but my heart is just aching for Sue -- she would want so much more for her grandson!!!! And now we have her journal...which they are going to read, right? Only the guards scare me especially because we haven't met any yet but we know they're lurking somewhere!
kav

Guess I am not the only one who got chills from the last post! I love how things are starting to become connected. But there are still so many questions. Keep up the great work rerio - this is an amazingly fascinating story!

Ooooo...I'm more excited than chilly...guess that could be because of the blazing humidity and the fact that I've been running my dryer all morning! Even creepy guards aren't cooling me down.

I can't wait to have a look into Sue's diary......and then to find out how life has gone so wrong for her grandson.....Wow!

Can't wait to read LOTS more!

Ami, I'm sitting here in the heat of the day with goosebumps!!! My goodness what a powerful post. I can hardly wait for more.

I'm starting to speculate about who Emma is and have some fun ideas

Sidenote to JP: I'll be careful with your hand when I squeeze...that pruning can be nasty. I'm thinking another post from Ami though might make it feel better.

Thanks, Trace, and I agree... another post from Ami would go a long way toward making me and my purplish-blue finger feel better!!!

June 18, 2007

My mother made me do a lot of things while I was growing up, things to make me fit in better in the hearing world. Speech lessons, skating lessons, piano lessons...lots of lessons. Some of them I liked; most of them I put up with to please her. I love my mother, and I'd like to think we've come a long way since then, although I'll admit there are some things we might not ever completely work out. I know she did what she thought was best for me, and I appreciate that. When I'm writing in my journal I appreciate it even more, because journal writing was another one of her projects. For as long as I can remember, she encouraged me to write. When I was younger she made me write, at least one page a day before bedtime. She graded my work, too. She wanted me to get comfortable with the English language...speaking it, writing it, thinking it. It worked, even though there were days I tried very hard not to let that happen. And today I'm glad, because today I can write in my journal about my marriage to the best man on earth, Jack Hudson.

I'm Mrs. Jackson Samuel Hudson!

You would think that would wear off after four months, but it still makes me happy when I think about it. My hand even shakes a little when I write it! It seemed to take forever, and there were days I thought we would never make it this far. I didn't know if I could trust him, and he wasn't sure if he was ready for me. Isn't it great how God knows what's best for us, even when we aren't so sure? Even when we don't always see Him, He's working in our lives to lead us on the path He has planned for us. We have to be willing to follow, of course; he doesn't force us. We can always choose to go our own way.

Thank God I didn't. Thank God Jack didn't. I wouldn't have wanted to miss a moment of this.

Some might think that my first, awkward stumble into Jack's office at the FBI was just a simple mistake, but I know better. God wanted me to meet Jack Hudson. Was He also laughing at my expense? Probably. God has a great sense of humor. God helped me see past my own fears to recognize the quality of man Jack is. He slowly taught me to trust, and I know He led me through prayer to turn down that job offer in New York. That was a leap of faith on my part: faith in myself, in God, in Jack. Faith that was deserved by all parties. Jack asked me out on our first real date just two weeks later. What developed after that was a long, perfect courtship. We explored the city together, we talked for hours, we spent holidays together. Our families became close. Every wish I'd ever had about dating and marriage was fulfilled by a very sweet man who didn't know what to do but was willing to try.

And now I'm writing in my journal, thankful that my mother made me learn how, because someday...someday my children will read about how much their parents loved each other. Someday the baby I'm carrying will know about the day I found out I was pregnant.

That's right! I'm pregnant!!

I had wondered last week, but I didn't take the test until this morning. I told Jack to go into the office ahead of me because I didn't want him to get excited if it turned out to be nothing. Actually, that's not entirely true. I wanted time to find out alone, because I'm a little scared of how he'll react. We talked about children, but we definitely hadn't planned to start a family this early. Isn't that just like God? His ways are not our ways...

...and He has led us this far, so I'll trust Him to lead the rest of the way. Jack will be happy and excited, just like me. We have a good road ahead of us, the Hudson family. Jack, Sue, and baby. I like Melanie Ruth if it's a girl and Jacob Samuel if it's a boy. I guess we'll have to wait and see.

Oh, I almost forgot! We finally got our wedding photos back from the photographer. What a mess that was! I'll have to remember to tell Tara and Bobby not to use the same service for their wedding. Still, they turned out very nice, and we got a discount because of the wait. I'll paste a picture in here so that someday Melanie (or Jacob) can see what I looked like before I got old and fat.

We're having a baby! God is good!

Awwwww...and I'm sure Jack was thrilled...after he picked himself up off the floor...and before he started strutting around like a rooster!

just caught up!!!


love the story!! can't wait for more!!


btw if rose hudson was chase's mom then who was sue his great grand mother !!!

QUOTE

Awwwww...and I'm sure Jack was thrilled...after he picked himself up off the floor...and before he started strutting around like a rooster! 

have to ditto that !!


i can't wait for more !!! btw are there going to be any flasbacks?!?!

a baby

cath

Okay, I'm just going to spill it...I'm thinking Emma just might be a little Taraish!!! Does anyone else agree???

Love that Chase is going to discover the importance of a heart and the passion his ancestors had for life. Looking forward to seeing his rekindled.

Oh that would be really neat if Emma was a descendant of Bobby and Tara and Chase is a descendant of Jack and Sue!!!

Okay, gonna settle down now and wait to see what rerio has in store.

That was a lovely journal entry by the way. It left me feeling all warm and fuzzy inside...until I read flip's ensuing reply and then I was laughing too hard to feel very fuzzy!

Tracie I was thinking the same thing! And if anyone can teach Chase about emotion it would be Sue -- I'm hoping he learns what life can really be like through his ancestor!

kav