Free Flight of the Golden Harpy by Susan Klaus Page A

peeled-paint posts. She got out of the vehicle and went to the front door on a well-shaded porch, and rang the old-fashioned bell. A grizzly silver-headed man appeared. “Hello, Doc,” she said when he opened the door.
    “Who are you?” he asked gruffly.
    “Kari Turner.”
    He rubbed his beard. “Any relation to John?”
    “I’m his daughter.”
    “Thought you looked familiar,” he said. “I delivered you. That was a hell of a night. Well, what do you want? If you’re selling, I ain’t buying.”
    “I’m not selling anything. I need your help.”
    “Well, come in.” He scowled. “I got better things to do than stand in a doorway all day.” He walked in the modest living room, and Kari followed. “I’m fixing fresh lemonade. Want some? Can’t stand that crap that comes out of those confounded machines.” He ambled toward the kitchen in the back of the cottage.
    “No, thank you.”
    “Kari Turner,” he mumbled. “Now I remember. Never were sick much, but didn’t a mogel get hold of you?”
    “Yes,” she said. “A golden harpy saved me and brought me home.”
    He raised an eyebrow. “That harpy did more than save you from the eel. That little winged guy put licing moss on your wound. Drew the poison out. Without the moss, you’d be as good as dead by the time I got to your dad’s. That was quite a discovery in the field of medicine. I did a medical research paper on the properties of licing moss. I imagine that harpy has saved scores of lives over the years.”
    “My father never told me about the moss,” she said.
    “I’m not surprised.” Doc chuckled. “John don’t care for those critters, and he ain’t about to give one credit for anything.”
    “He blames a harpy for my mother’s death.”
    “Yes, that was a real tragedy. Losing his wife made John plenty bitter,” he said, pouring a glass of lemonade. “And your mom was a real looker, prettiest thing I’d ever seen. Say, you look a lot like her. So what’s your deal? Don’t look sick or hurt.”
    “I’m having trouble sleeping.”
    “Walking the floors, huh? You’re too young to have problems.”
    “No, I fall asleep fine,” she said. “I just have vivid dreams, and they wake me up.”
    Doc stared at her. “Can’t help you.”
    “You must have something to help me sleep through the night.”
    “I do, but I’m not giving a heavy sedative to a young, healthy woman. That’s what it’d take to stop a dream. You don’t need or want that kind of drug. Everyone has bad dreams occasionally. They’ll pass. Wish I could dream more often,” he said, walking toward the back door. “Let yourself out. I gotta get back to my garden. The rainy season will be here before you know it.”
    Kari watched him stroll to the backyard. She walked through the small cottage, noticing a small bedroom converted into a hospital room. Old medical equipment surrounded a single bed. On the porch, she glanced up and down the street, her mind on the unsolved problem. What if Dad discovers the nature of my dreams? He would kill Shail. When she approached her vehicle, she saw a skinny young woman hurrying toward her.
    “Kari!” the woman called. “I saw your vehicle at Doc’s and was waiting for you to come out. How are you, and how was Earth?”
    Kari recognized her old schoolmate. “Hello, Carol. It’s nice to see you,” she fibbed. She remembered how Carol chattered endlessly about nothing and bored Kari to tears.
    “Now, you must tell me everything about Earth,” Carol began, fluffing her bobbed hair. “I’m so jealous. I wish my parents had the credits to send me. They could have at least sent me to school in Hampton, but they want me to help them with a new store—clothing, of course. I was sick of the grocery store. You have to come in, and I’ll show you what we have in stock. What am I talking about? You just came from Earth. I bet your closets are full of the latest fashions. Oh, you must let me come over, so I can see