Welcome to this story. I like speaking first so I am. But Cecilia is starting the story, below. Read the instructions on the right on how to write posts. I like rules, but we only have four weeks, so I say if people feel like writing more than once a week that's cool. But everyone should write at least one paragraph/week. Ok. Bye now.

Bees

Opening the drawer was a huge mistake. Inside was a little, blue book. Angie flipped to the first page, which was blank. All the pages were blank until the very last where Shayla had written, to have a friend you must bee one.
Angie knew that it was her sister who had written these words. She recognized Shayla’s precise and spidery handwriting. The little drawing of the bee, which followed the written words, could only have been rendered by her sister
“Damn it,” Angie said, as tears rolled down her face. Shayla’s unsolved disappearance so haunted Angie that sleeping was no better than waking, eating unimportant, work a disaster, her relationship with Aaron, with anyone for that matter, a lost cause. Her sister had been missing for two and a half months and Angie thought of little else.
She closed the book and put it back in the drawer. She stood staring at the contents of her sister’s apartment. She thought if she just looked hard enough at the right thing she’d know what had happened to her sister. She looked at her sister’s running shoes, the velvet painting of the Flamingos over her bed, the little shopping bag with the new, unused lipstick.
She’d looked at these things before but kept thinking that Shayla’s disappearance was like a puzzle, if she looked at these things, at everything, just the right way, or in the right sequence, or from the right angle she’d find her sister.

Her cell phone vibrated in her pocket. Jeff. Angie sank onto the bed and let it go to voice mail. Shayla’s most recent exploit had arrived at Angie’s door a day after Shayla had failed to show up at the restaurant where they both waited tables. Angie’s exact words had been, “I wouldn’t call the police.”
“But no one’s seen her. She’s always returned my calls before. It isn’t like her…”
“Look, Jeff, you’re a sweet guy, but you guys have been going out, what, maybe two months?”
“What are you saying?” Big, brown, loyal dog eyes looked at her. He had a dimple in his chin.
“This isn’t the first time Shayla’s taken a vacation without telling anyone.”
Jeff had blinked.
“In high school she wanted to go on this ski trip over winter break. When our parents said she couldn’t, she went anyway. Not with her classmates. She hitched a ride.” Angie shrugged. “When the mood hits, she just goes.” She spared him the details of Shayla’s all-expense paid trip to Hawaii with her married boss two years ago.
Jeff shook his head. “No. Something’s wrong. She wouldn’t just take off without telling me.”
Angie had folded her arms across her chest. “She’ll turn up.”
Jeff had trusted her. They all had in the beginning until, one by one, doubts surfaced – Jeff first. Then Aaron. Mom.
Angie’s cell phone buzzed in her hand, a reminder of the missed call.
“She’ll turn up,” Angie said aloud in the empty apartment. She glanced around the apartment one last time before leaving.

Entry 3

“Grande non-fat vanilla latte”, Angie ordered from the third year law student/barista who worked at her neighborhood Starbucks on Wednesday mornings. She doesn’t flirt with him anymore. She wonders if he knows.

She sipped her sweet caffeine treat and a relaxing ahhhh rolled through her spirit, cut short promptly by the now familiar self-chastisement, how can I enjoy my life when Shayla’s missing. Angie lived now with a vague tension headache.

The last time she had seen Shayla they had argued.
“I’m not lying for you”, Angie said, “If you’re not going to Ma’s for Thanksgiving, I’m not covering for you.”
“Get off your high horse how many nights did I clean up after you, hide the evidence, lie to mom and dad for you. Where were your morals then?”
“Give me a break that was back in high school.”
“So now Angie you’re ready to be Miss Honesty, so we all have to be. Really I don’t need your judgment, just be a friend.”
“I think maybe my judgment is exactly what you need.”
“Screw you.”
“Screw you.”

I love you Shayla where are you?

She questioned the salesgirl at Ulta, they were able to figure out who had helped her from the receipt for the lipstick, Slowburn. “Oh yeah I do remember her, because she seemed so happy, but then she said this weird thing. She said ‘this might be the last lipstick I’ll ever wear’. And then she laughed, so I laughed too. She seemed real sweet, happy almost giddy. I hope that helps.”

Everything helped, every story, every detail, every memory that she could grab up. She hungrily ingested them from anyone who had a tidbit on Shayla. The morsels helped her bring Shayla back. Today Angie wore Shayla’s Juicy Couture red velvet sweat suit. She dressed exclusively from Shayla’s closet now. She wore the orange-red Slowburn on her lips.

FOUR

After leaving Ulta, Angie returned to Shayla’s apartment. She studied herself carefully in the floor length mirror hanging on the wall of her sister’s bedroom. The mirror was thick and expensive, edged in a frame of lovely brass. It had always served as the perfect frame for Shayla’s beauty. Seeing the mirror prompted Angie to remember something Jeff had told her. He had been watching Shayla brush her hair in this mirror. He told Shayla that she looked like a living painting hanging on the wall. He had been close to tears as he recounted the memory to Angie.

Angie’s curves rounded out the red velvet of the Juicy sweat suit nicely, though the waist band pulled a bit on her middle. The pants legs were a bit too short as well. “Hey Angie, the flood’s over!,” she could hear her sister’s teasing words in her mind. Angie turned to get the rear view and saw that the bulky purple band of her underwear was exposed above the red velvet. It was true. Shayla’s hips were not as padded as Angie’s. Her rear was more toned from all those hours she spent in the gym. Shayla’s breasts were also symmetrical and full, unlike Angie’s lopsided droopers. “Thank god for Victoria’s Secret push-up angels!,” Shayla had always joked at her sister’s expense. Retracing Shayla’s words now made Angie’s head pound again.

She closed her eyes and took a long, slow, deep breath. The question “What would Shalya do? What would Shayla do?” began to run like a ticker ribbon through Angie’s mind. Her slow and careful breathing continued as she prepared herself for what was about to come next.

“You are Shayla.” Angie opened her eyes and stared at herself in the mirror. Angie’s eyes were chocolate brown with flecks of orange; Shayla’s were robin’s egg blue.

“Your name, is Shay-la.” Angie said to herself, more determined than before. “Shayla.”

Angie glimpsed robin’s egg blue flash momentarily in her own eyes. “Shayla.” The blue flashed again, longer this time, then longer still. Angie reapplied the Slowburn, which she had in the pocket of the jacket, and blew herself a kiss. She was ready.

“Hello. My name is Shayla.” With a winning smile just like her sister’s, Angie extended a hand to her own image.

She then turned from the mirror and began to search Shayla’s bedroom for more clues. Feeling the air for existential impressions and image footprints, she retraced her sister’s freshest movements through the bedroom. That’s when she saw it.

Five

Aaron had refused to come, so Angie sat by herself on American Airlines #1254, non-stop to Anchorage. He was tired of Shayla's bullshit, he'd said, and tired of the sister thing. She almost spat at him when he said that. As if a blood bond, years of devoted fighting, envy, shared prescriptions, wardrobe wars and reciprocal loans could be dismissed as a "thing."

If she were a betting woman (and Angie had a giddy feeling she might just be turning into one), she'd say this romance was on the rails. She'd miss the sex, and the cuddling and his way with eggs. But the minute she'd seen the corner of the printout from Travelocity peeking out from the stack of magazines on Shayla's table, she said the word "clue," she prepared to chase.

Ok so maybe wearing her missing sister's clothes might be called a 'thing.' The suitcase stuffed in the belly of this huge, noisy jet was a compromise--some of her more sensible jeans and shoes (she was going to Alaska, right?) folded together with Shayla's softer, brighter choices. Aaron would have laughed at her, but Aaron was history, despite his pathetic little back-tracking text message this morning: call me when you land. As if.


Angie had brought the wrong book. All she really knew about Alaska was Northern Exposure, that show she and Shayla used to watch together in high school, so she'd found "The Northern Exposure Book: The Official Publication of the Television Series" on Amazon. She was so dumb sometimes. The book was making her miserable, ridiculously short on details about Alaska and way long on chatty details about how the cast had loved each other. If Shayla was here, they could have gone on one of their long riffs together, bitching about how they were miscast in their own lives, dreaming up possible titles of the TV show that would finally showcase their unique talents. But she couldn't do it without her. No matter the lipstick and the witchy shit, the talking into the mirror. She was Angie. And it was cold up here in the clouds.

six

After dinner, which consisted of complimentary peanuts and few drinks, Angie pulled out the Travelocity printout. She tried to read it but her eyes were out of focus. She shouldn't have had those last two drinks but, at the time, they made sense. She was trying to forget why she was on the plane. But now she need to figure out what happened to Shayla. Angie's light-headedness only made her think of Shayla even more. Shayla could handle her liquor so much better than Angie and she never let her forget it. Shayla always told her that she made for a cheap date - that's probably why "Mr. I'm Trying To Find Myself So I Don't Have A Job" Aaron could continue dating her. In one of those rare moments since Shayla's disappearance, Angie was glad that she wasn't around. But Angie was quick to clarify, if only to herself, that it only applied to now that she was borderline drunk.

Angie closed her eyes for what seemed like a brief moment. She woke up forty five minutes later. She was startled by the pilot's voice over the intercom because she had forgotten where she was. It was something about what she would have seen if she would have looked out the window - too late. Nothing but clouds. Angie looked down to the piece of paper in her hand: Shayla's Travelocity printout. She remembered that she was on her way to Anchorage. Angie sat straight in her seat, turned on her overhead light and brought down the table tray in front of her. She placed the printout on the tray determined to find the missing clue.

It was dated three months prior. The flight information was for the next day. It was for a one way ticket to Anchorage. On the bottom Shayla had written: "Even though you don't want me around, I will show you that I know how to bee a friend." Angie remembered the little blue book and the bee inside it. She couldn't imagine who Shayla was referring to. Shayla had not mentioned any new "friend" to her, Jeff or Mom let alone Anchorage. Well, whoever they are, they are in Anchorage. And so was Shayla because United was able to confirm that she did get on the plane.

Angie came up with a plan. The first thing she would do would be to go to the police station and file a missing person's report. Well actually, that would be the second because Angie needed a place to stay.

seven

Why Alaska? Something important had to be there that she would get on a plane. She would find a place to stay first and know the police couldn't h elp her.

She came to appreciate bees, nature and how hard they worked to make her life sweeter. Tea and toast with honey. She would first look for places that were good with bees, or cottages near water. There had to be something in that book that could tell her more about why she went there. She closed her eyes and saw shayla's face in her mind. Looked out the window and saw her face in the clouds. Did she want to open a restaurant? Work as hard as the bees? Someone had let her down.

BEES

Angie stood on the sidewalk outside the airport thinking how great it would be to be home and cosy with a book and some tea. Or, maybe doing something really fabulous and exicitng like running a restaurant. Not for the first time she felt just the tiniest bit of anger toward her sister. As she stood considering all this, a cab pulled up. The driver hopped out, “you here for the convention?”
Angie nodded, what the heck, she thought, let’s see where this goes.
In the cab she noted the driver’s reggae music and a postcard image of the Eiffel Tower. “Are there are a lot of people in town for the convention?”
“Some,” said the driver, “it’s just easy to tell who’s from around here and who’s not.”
“I could just be coming home from somewhere,” Angie said.
“Not with those shoes,” he said.
Angie looked down at the Uggs slippers she was wearing. “Not too practical, I guess,” she said staring out at the drifts of snow.
The driver grunted. They were both silent until he pulled in the drive of a of the Longhouse Alaskan Hotel.
( http://www.longhousehotel.com/ )
A sign propped on an easel by the front door read, Welcome BEES Convention on Alaskan Building Energy Efficiency Standards.
(http://www.ahfc.state.ak.us/reference/bees.cfm)

Eight

Call it coincidental. Angie knew there was no way in hell Shayla was a part of this conference. Efficiency? Shayla refused to recycle. She took hour long showers. She pretended to be horrified as her Burger King bag flew out of her car window - feigning concern just in case someone was watching. Shayla would laugh open-mouthed as Angie lectured about landfills and global warming.
When Angie had first visited Shayla’s apartment, a window was cracked open and the heat was turned on. The detectives had asked about it, but both Jeff and Angie assured them open windows were just typical Shayla.
Angie stared out the hotel window and wished she had a cigarette. She had smoked a couple of times at bars in college. A drink and cigarette fit at the time, but she couldn't stand the stench in her hair and on her clothes. She had never been addicted to anything. Now wished she was. Sort of in that way you wish you wore glasses – they make you look so smart – until you get them. Or braces.

B is for braces

She was 12, shayla was 10. They looked so much alike people used to ask if they were twins. Then Angie got braces and Shayla did not. So began the split, the lifelong jealousy, the feelings of inferiority. Shayla was the pretty one and Angie was the smart responsible sister. Angie wished she could be the pretty one. Dad used to tease her "Angie boys don't kiss girls with braces." Then he'd pull Shayla on his lap and whisper in her ear. She'd giggle but try to pull off his lap. He'd tickle her and say "Who's daddy's girl, who's the prettiest lil girl in the whole world." More tickling, "Bzzzz, bzzzz, I'm a bee and I'm going to bite you. Bzzz, bzzzz, bzzzz" tickle tickle tickle. Later Shayla would confide to her sister.
"I hate when dad plays the bee game. I wish I was more like you Ang and then he'd leave me alone."
"Oh poor Shayla , poor little daddy's girl, I would never want to bee you".

Room 7B

Angie entered got out of the cab in front of the Long House Anchorage Hotel. The clean lobby, with its blond and knotty wood paneling and exposed high ceiling beams, reminded her of the Camelback Ski Lodge where her family vacationed together every year. Every year, Angie had burned the roof of her mouth on the steaming hot Coco with marshmallows. It was the one time of year she was allowed to openly indulge in chocolate. Standing in the hotel lobby now, her tongue protectively flitted to the roof of her mouth.

“A single room please.” Angie tried to smile casually at the desk clerk as she handed over her credit card.
“We are booked solid for the conference, but I believe I can find something..,” the young man typed furiously into his computer. “How long will you be staying with us?”
“I don’t know…a week I guess?”
“You guess?”
“I don’t know, I…” The stress finally overwhelmed Angie and she broke down into tears. “I’m looking for my sister.” She managed to say between sobs.
“M’am. I am sorry for your troubles.” The clerk looked Angie in the eyes and asked, “Who is your sister?” He was the prototype of a patient and helpful guest services professional.
“Shayla.” She sniffed, tears pouring down her cheeks.
“Shayla? Did you say?”
“Yes, she-”
“Shayla is your sister? But I know her.” The clerk came from around the desk to speak with her person to person. “But, she’s with us.”
He took Angie’s hands in his as if they were old friends.
“Where is she?” Angie held on to this information, and the clerk, for dear life.
“She’s at Portage Glacier.”
“I must go find her.”
“That can be arranged. But first, your room. Angie, you will be staying in 7B.”
“Thank you…?” Angie wiped her cheeks.
“Bruno. My name is Bruno, but my friends call me B. Shayla calls me B.”
“…Bruno. Thank you.” Angie followed him in the direction of her room.

b is not bee

Angie followed Bruno into the elevator and up to the 7th floor to her room. Bruno walked in and sat down but Angie didn't feel comfortable with him anymore. As much as she wanted to know where Shayla was, she needed to re-compose herself. She was upset with herself for crying in front of this stranger.

"Thanks for all your assistance, Bruno -"
"I told you all my friends, including Shayla, call me B."
"OK, Bruno, thanks again. I need to unwind a bit. Do you mind if I unpack and then come find you?"
"Not a problem. I just started my shift so I will be around."

Bruno walked out, looking annoyed because Angie had not fallen for his charm. Angie started to unpack and reached for book to look up Portage Glacier. She put the book back down. What would Shayla be doing there? This was getting to be too strange. Shayla was never an outdoor person. What would she be doing at this glacier? Anyway, who was this Bruno guy and could he really be trusted? Could she really be this lucky in finding her sister? Things always worked out for Angie but never this quickly. She decided to go back to the lobby to question Bruno.

Angie is not Cary Grant

Angie took the stairs down to the lobby, pausing for a second to look at the view. Mountains, huge mountains. God damn! A tiny fountain of pleasure made noise inside her body. Was there any chance this adventure could be fun?

But Bruno was gone. She asked, "Where's Bruno?" but the sad blonde just shook her head and didn't say a word. Angie insisted: "I want to talk to Bruno, he said he was just starting his shift." The blond (nametag Betty) said "I don't know anything. I don't know any Bruno. Can I help you?"

"No, obviously not. Can I talk to your manager?" "Nope, he just left." "Do you know my sister Shayla?"

At this point the Betty became more animated, leaning forward across the rustic timbered counter, and Angie's hopes climbed, put on skis and began the ascent.

"Do I look like a family tree? Do I?"

Betty was mean. Angie smiled her widest, fiercest smile (the braces had worked), and stalked off.

She was beginning to feel like a character in a mystery, where clues appeared then disappeared. All the Bee's, and B's. Maybe she was Cary Grant in North by Northwest, seeking that character (George Kaufman) through hotel lobbies. Maybe she should read more, so her points of references weren't all TV and movie.

She found an oversized chair in the woodsy lobby. She wasn't Cary, because he was clever and extremely well-dressed and sexy in a weird dad kind of way. Maybe she should just fly home, leave Shayla to her own adventure, leave her lost in her A's, her C's, her B's.

Shayla, Shayla, my boyfriend's back

Thinking about Cary Grant led to thoughts of Dad and thoughts of Dad led to, well, back to Shayla. She’d run away at fifteen, called Angie from a phone booth.
“You know, Angie,” she’d said darkly, “you know, why I’m not there.”
“Did something happen?” Angie felt a lump in the pit of her stomach. “With Dad?”
“No, but it could,” Shayla said, “it could.”
Shayla came back ten days later. For the next couple of months they shared Angie’s twin bed instead of staying in their separate rooms. Nothing happened.
During that time, their father was diagnosed with liver cancer and his decline was rapid. At the funeral, held on an impossibly sunny day, Shayla had cried harder than anyone.
Angie’s cell rang, interrupting her thoughts. It was someone from her real estate office with a number of work related questions. Angie had to snap out of her daydream and deal with the real world for awhile. After they’d dealt with a couple of issues her assistant asked how things were going. “They’re not really going at all,” she said again staring out at the mountains but the scenery is,” and here she paused as a man entered the lobby, “the scenery, is gorgeous,” she said, looking not at the mountains but at the man.
The guy nodded at her, then did a double take and said, “Shayla?”

Shayla

I'm scared. I want to be alone. Why amI all alone? Where's Angie? Why me? Shayla shivered and pulled the oversized sweatshirt closer to her cool skin. She felt oddly both numb and in pain, numb with pain.
The men ran through her mind; the too many, the oh so many, the ones she chased, the ones who chased her, the experiments and all the body parts. She searched for a warm thought, if she could find a comforting thread perhaps she could weave her way back to sanity. She found shame and anger.
She thought of Angie's braces, they were silver and safe and helpful and they kept Angie safe and beautiful. She smiled. Just think about Angie. No men, no men, no men.


"Shayla, What are you doing?", said Bruno.

I'm not Shayla

It wasn't the first time I was mistaken for Shayla. It happened quite often although people always realized their mistakes once they came closer to me. I'm not as pretty even if my teeth are straighter. Although having someone in Alaska mistake me for Shayla was very weird. I felt as if I was being thrown back into that movie scene from earlier.

"Where have you been Shayla? I can't believe that you have the nerve to just be sitting there like nothing ever happened," the guy came closer toward me. He was very good looking. He hesitated for a second but then he kept going.

"You have some nerve showing up to my hotel after what you did to me. You are a - "

"I'm not Shayla but you better watch it before you call her anything."
By now, the man was standing in front of me. He looked at me and realized his mistake.

"I'm so sorry. You look just like this girl I was -. I'm sorry. I hope I haven't given you the wrong impression of my hotel or Alaska."

"So what did my sister do to you?"

"Your sister?"

"Yes, Shayla is my sister and she's missing. I came here looking for her. I actually just arrived a few hours ago."

"She's not missing. She's with that good for nothing Bruno -"

"The desk clerk?"

"He's not a desk clerk. He's an opportunist is what he is. He hangs out in hotel lobbies and picks up women. And to think that Shayla came to see me. She told me that she knew how to be a friend."

Shayla II

“None of your business, B.” Shayla turned away and walked further up the glacier. “I need some space.”
“I have some news for you, baby.”
“I need some space, B.”
“I think you will be quite interested.” Bruno ran his hand over Shayla’s backside.
“God damn it! What did I just say? Hand’s off asshole.” Shayla took a step back, positioned herself carefully, and punched Bruno square in the nose.
Bruno reeled backwards. Shayla noticed the bright red dots of blood that dripped against the white of the glacier. Somehow, it comforted her.
Bruno was in shock.
“Wow, baby. Was that necessary?”
“God damn right it was.”
“We’ll need to talk about this with the group, you know. I will need to share.” Bruno delicately pinched the bridge of his nose as he looked up at the clear, Alaskan sky.
“Do what you need to do, baby.” Shayla’s words spewed, hot, from her lips.
Bruno headed down the glacier toward his car. Shayla didn’t watch him go. She hugged herself again.

“By the way, your sister is at the hotel.”
Shayla turned around as if drawn by a magnetic field.
“Angie’s here? But how –“
“You want a lift?” Bruno smiled.
“Yes please.” Shayla smiled sweetly.
“Yes please what?”
“Yes please, B.”
“So we’re friends again are we sexy?”

Shayla brushed past Bruno as she headed past him, in the direction of his green Explorer, leading the way.

“And don’t call me sexy.”

“Thank you for this,” Angie said.
Bradley pulled a folder from the drawer and placed it on the desk between them. He scanned the page. Angie noticed the office lacked the warm sophistication of the rest of the hotel. She watched Bradley flip open his cell phone and dial. He had long, thick fingers, weathered hands. Not the hands of a guy whose family had handed him a hotel. She could see why Shayla would have come to Alaska for him.
“Hey. I need a favor,” Bradley said. “His name is Bruno.”

* * *
“You could be twins,” he said.
“No.”
“I can’t get you out.”
“I know.”
“Think about it.”
“You’re an only child, aren’t you.”
“Yeah.” They listened to the wind whistle over the windshield. “I thought you hated your sister.”

Angie bit on her lip and nibbled trail mix.

"Sure I hated her. She was prettier, louder and a boy magnet. And sisters are crazy you know, the way we hold grudges. I'll never truly forgive her (I know that sounds nuts) for the day she was 'elected' Miss Spain in summer camp."

Angie did the things with her fingers even though Bradley was staring straight ahead, driving precisely through the crazy thick snow. He seemed so responsible. And a hunk. How did Shayla do it?

"You should have seen her, strutting in her ridiculous costume out on the diving board. She didn't win but it didn't matter."

"Then why are you here?" Bradley asked, darting looks at her. "Really. Alaska's a long way to come. And Shayla, well, this sounds crappy, but she didn't even mention you Angie. I'm beginning to think she's a little bit of a bitch."

"She is. But she's my sister. And you've just met her, there are things you don't know. For every time she pissed me off or let me down, she cheered me up or kicked my ass when I needed to stop thinking and DO something. Or maybe the math's off. Maybe she's leaning towards the bitch part of the scale right now. I just hope we aren't too late to stop her latest mistake."

More road passed and then Angie remembered something.

"You said something about her promising to be your friend. Why did SHE come all the way out here?"

Bradley was about to answer when they passed a Green Explorer tearing down the mountain road, in the opposite direction.

"That's Bruno's car. Hold on!"

getting to the bottom or the top of things

Angie thought she caught a glimpse of Shayla as the two cars passed and the look on her sister’s face was troubling. Shayla’s mouth was open , her eyes wide, as if she’d just seen or heard something she didn’t want to believe.
Bradley turned his car around so fast that Angie lunged forward. He put his arm across her chest. “Hold, on there sister, we’re doing this outlaw style.” The tires spun on the gravel rode and they sped after the Green Explorer which raced out of sight around a turn.
“What the hell is going on?” Angie said, noting that Bradley was able to drive with his left hand, his right staying on her thigh. She pushed it off.
“Well, it’s like this,” he said not seeming to notice her now one way or another, just staring at the road. “There are some people who are less interested in energy conservation. There’s some people who would like nothing better than to fill this country full of holes looking for oil. And there’s some of us who feel otherwise.”
“What does any of that have to do with Shayla?”The gorgeous countryside was sweeping by. Bradley maneuvered the car expertly but the car up ahead would appear and disappear.
“Bruno owns a lot of land and he wanted to sell it to the government. We didn’t want him to.”
“Who’s we?”
“A consortium of environmentalist, geologist, do-gooders, people connected by a cause and the internet.”
“And my sister?”
“And your sister.”
“So what went wrong?”
“Well, Bruno, can be pretty persuasive, he’s got a lot of money and toys and Shayla, let’s just say, Shayla got confused about who was on the right side.”
Angie could only nod, it sounded like the Shayla she knew.
The green car suddenly passed them going the other way, up the mountain. Bradley again spun around to follow but then abruptly stepped on the brakes. Looking at Shayla he said, “This isn’t over yet, and I don’t know where it’s going. Bruno’s got some shady partners. I’ve no doubt your sister is in over her head and wants out, but I don’t know how deep in she is. And I don’t know what I can do about it. I’m not some super hero, I’m just a guy that owns a hotel. So, if you want to get out, do it now, otherwise, we’re heading to the peak.”
Angie looked down. She was ill-prepared, wearing polar bear covered pajama pants, her Uggs slippers, and a gold colored Baby Phat parka of Shayla’s that barely covered her mid-section. She looked at Bradley with tears in her eyes, “Let‘s go,” she said, “I’ve got to get my sister back.”

Bradley sped up and caught up to Bruno in a matter of minutes. Angie held onto the door handle and closed her eyes because she just knew that they were going to run right into the Explorer. Angie opened her eyes when she felt the car moving to the left - Bradley was trying to pass Bruno up.

"What are you doing?" Angie asked as she closed her eyes again.

"Trying to stop him before he gets to the top. We're going to settle this right here and now."

All of a sudden, the car swerved and Bradley hit the brakes. Angie opened her eyes in time to see the Explorer coming at them.

"Are you crazy? They are going to crash into us."

"Bruno won't wreck his car. He'll stop," Bradley said as he got out of the car.

Angie sat there frozen; she tried to look at Shayla but her eyes were closed. Bruno slammed on the brakes and came within inches of Angie. Bruno jumped out of the car and into Bradley's fist. His nose started to bleed again. The snow was turning red.

"What the hell is your problem? Get your car out of my way," Bruno said as he held his nose. Bradley punched him again.

Angie looked at Shayla. She felt relief come over her because she looked fine. But then anger quickly overcame her. Here she was, watching two guys fighting over Shayla - again. Angie couldn't even get one guy at a time. What did they see in Shayla that they didn't see in her. Shayla got out of the car to stop the fight and Angie couldn't sit any longer.

"Where the hell have you been? How could you have just left? What about mom and Jeff?"

"Is that why you came to look for me? So that you could yell at me? That's all you ever do."

"You ungrateful little brat. I came all the way over here to find you and you don't even appreciate it. I should go home."

"Bye. Don't tell anyone I said hello. And for your information, I didn't need to be found because I'm not lost."

Angie wanted to just smack her. She lunged for her but Bradley caught her.

"Hey, I thought you wanted to find your sister."

"You heard her, she doesn't need to be found. Take me back to the hotel." Bradley held onto Angie, "We're not leaving without Shayla."

"I'm not going anywhere with you, Bradley."

"But Shayla you said you cared about the cause. More importantly, you said that you would be there for me. How could you end up with the enemy?"

"It takes too much effort to be your friend and to support the cause. Plus, I wasn't having any fun anymore. All we did was go to meetings and talk. I guess I just don't know how to be a friend. Just ask my sister. Bruno, let's go," Angie said as she got back into the car. Bruno got in the car, backed up and went around Bradley and Angie. Bradley took Angie by the hand and led her back to the car. Bradley headed up the mountain.

Angie gripped the armrest as Bradley sped after Bruno's car. Every time she felt certain the car would careen over the edge of the road and likely into an abyss, Bradley would expertly manuever the steering wheel. Still Angie felt her body tense and lean, as if she was assisting in driving.
She could almost hear Shayla, "Sister, you got to learn to let go."
Angie knew it was true, but if a moment ever existed in which she was unwilling to listen to that advice, this was it. The car wouldn't crash. She would will it onto the road and to her sister.
They were just approaching the peak when the vehicle started to slide again. After twenty minutes of close calls, Angie had finally grown accustomed to the sensation of floating above the ground and then the adept Bradley grounding them again toward Shayla. She should have known not to trust a man with a woman's mission.
"Oh, shit," Bradley said.
Angie leaned forward in her seat and braced herself against the dashboard with her hand as the vehicle surged sideways.

Angie woke to the steady beep-beep of the monitor beside her hospital bed. She did not at first know where she was. The world slowly came into focus and she recognized the familiar figure of her sister Shalya, beside her bed.

“Angie, are you ok?”

Shayla looked as lovely as ever as the afternoon light filtered in from the wide window.

‘I don’t know. I-”

‘-Angie, it was only a bee.”

“In Alaska? But the car accident. How bad is it? Where’s Bradley? Bruno?”

“You were stung by a bee two days ago and you have been in anaphylactic shock, in this bed. You know you are allergic.”

“But…the environmental group and the chase, and the car accident…,” Angie was confused.

“You’ve been unconscious, probably dreaming all kinds of things. What are you talking about sweetheart?”

“Please don’t leave me any more Shayla..”

“I have been right here.”

“But I went to find you.”

“Angie, I know I don’t have the best track in the past. I know I have run off in the past. But I am here with you. I don’t just run away anymore...you need to trust me.” She squeezed Angie’s hand and smiled. “I love you baby sis.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”