Mulch Ado About Nothing

Ursula rummaged in a drawer and brought up a battered kitchen spoon to ladle her creations onto a plate sitting on the counter. 'There now, just taste. You'll feel ever so much better.”

There was another knock on the door and Ursula ran to let Shelley in.

“Oh, Ms. Appledorn. I didn't know you were here.' When Ursula turned away from her, Shelley winked at Jane.

Jane gave Shelley a HELP ME! look.

“I'm just giving Jane her dinner,' Ursula said. 'What is that stuff?' Shelley asked, not disguising her distaste at the sight.

Ursula, more in pity than anger, explained all the items. Shelley listened and nodded and tried to hide a smile. 'I'm not sure it's a good time for Jane to completely change her diet. She's under considerable stress, you know.”

Ursula nodded. 'That's why I brought the caraway-flavored hummus. Excellent for stress.'

“Dear God,' Jane whispered to herself.

“Actually, I was just coming to fetch Jane to come to my house for dinner. I thought we'd have carryout Chinese.'

“All that MSG!' Ursula said with terror. 'That stuff can kill you.'

“It hasn't yet,' Shelley said calmly. 'Jane and I thrive on it.'

“I'm not really hungry,' Jane said. 'Why don't you put this in the fridge for later? A midnight snack, perhaps?”

By midnight she could probably hobble out to dump the stuff in the trash and pretend she'd polished it all off.

“Excellent idea. Just don't eat that Chinese stuff. Let's just sit down and get to know each other.”

Shelley, standing behind Ursula, rolled her eyes. Jane sighed.

Ursula insisted on settling Jane on the couch in the living room and putting an afghan around her. 'Ursula, it's summer,' Shelley mentioned.

“But extra heat is good for almost every ailment. Take my word on this.”

Shelley took a chair and so did Ursula. Then the three of them sat and stared at each other.

Ursula was the first to break the silence. 'You do know about the Denver airport, don't you? The new one?'

“What's to know?' Jane asked. 'Except that's a big place.”

Ursula laughed bitterly. 'Have you seen the murals?'

“The bright-colored ones near the baggage pickup? Yes, I saw them a couple years ago,' Jane said.

“And they didn't disturb you?' Ursula asked.

Jane shrugged. 'I wouldn't want them in my living room, but I wasn't disturbed by them.'

“You should have studied them. They're all about Satanism.' Ursula leaned forward and a paper clip fell off her from somewhere.

Shelley lifted an eyebrow skeptically.

“Yes, it's a conspiracy that was started by the Dauphin when he escaped to America and set up the Virginia Company, which meant all the money made in America would eventually go to England.”

Jane cleared her throat. 'Uh. . wasn't the Dauphin French?' She almost added, And wasn't the Virginia Company set up several centuries earlier? But she was curious about where this was leading.

“By birth, of course, but he'd been rescued by Englishmen and owed his allegiance to them. So this trust has operated with the consent and encouragement of the Windsor family ever since then. The Queen of England actually owns most of Colorado, you know. Under a false name, of course. And she owns the land the Denver airport is on.”

Shelley mumbled through the hand she was holding to her mouth to keep from laughing, 'What's the false name?'

“Nobody knows,' Ursula said. 'Probably there are many false names for her.”

Jane was having trouble keeping a straight face as well. 'Does the IRS know about this?'

“Naturally. They're part of the conspiracy. As is the CIA. And the Masons. They've been involved ever since the Templars were killed in France in the fifteenth century. But a few escaped and went to Ireland and started the Masonic order. The King of France wanted to kill them to get their fortune, and the fortune disappeared as well.'

“I think you mean the fourteenth century,' Jane said. 'Thirteen oh nine or so?'

“Fourteenth or fifteenth, whatever. The capstone at the airport is a Masonic symbol, just like that one that is on our money. I don't know why people can't see the connection. All our so-called Founding Fathers were Masons. On the original architectural drawings of the airport, it said it was a 'control center for New World control.' '

“An awkward sentence to be sure. You've seen the plans?' Jane said. This was spinning out of control and no longer funny.

“Not personally,' Ursula said, picking up a barrette that had worked its way out of her hair, 'but I know people who know other people whohave seen them. And then when you put this together with Cecil Rhodes—”

Shelley made a choking noise and hurried into the kitchen.

“Cecil Rhodes?' Jane repeated dimly.

“Yes, that was the whole idea of the Rhodes scholarships. To train Americans to think like Brits.'

“I never knew,' Jane said. 'Ursula, it's awfully nice of you to have visited, but you'll have to excuse me. I have some letters to write and a couple birthday cards that have to go in the mail this evening.'

“I'll run you to the post office — and speaking of the post office, they're part of it, too. Do you have any idea how many postal workers are Masons?”

Shelley was back, still pretending she had a little coughing fit. 'I don't think Jane should really go anywhere right now. She needs to rest. I'll take her mail for her.”

Ursula took this with good grace. Gathering up the huge purse and only dropping two cigarette lighters and a receipt, she said, 'Get a good night's sleep and I'll see you two in the morning at class.' She barged out, forgetting to even close the kitchen door.

Jane and Shelley sat back, not speaking, only sighing in unison.

A few seconds later, the screen door opened again and Ursula was back with three of the scrappiest paperback books Jane had ever seen. One was held together along the spine with strap? ping tape. All were stained and creased with crumbling covers.

“Here, ladies, read up. You'll find them fascinating.' She dumped them on the coffee table and went off again, tossing a remark over her shoulder about needing to get them back someday.

This time Shelley followed her and, when Ursula's battered vehicle was out of sight, closed and locked the door.

“I've heard of people like her,' Shelley said, sitting back down by Jane, 'but never really believed the descriptions of them. Now we know that there are true nutcases roaming our very own neighborhood.'

“She's really sort of frightening, isn't she?' Jane said seriously. 'I mean, isn't she exactly the kind of nut who decides that a bunch of Boy Scouts are Nazi spies and poisons their milk to save the world?'

“I'm not sure. But she frightens me just the same. And if I weren't a bit scared of her, I'd still dislike her. She's one of those people who get everything wrong, and when corrected, merely ignore the correction. Not that I go around correcting people if I can help it,' she added with a smile.

“Funny. I hadn't noticed that about you.' Jane smiled back.

“You've absolutely got to keep all your doors locked and stay in the back of the house where nobody can see you tottering around,' Shelleywarned. 'She's latched on to you and will be back.'

“Maybe I can make it clear that I don't want help?'

“You can't. People like that are incapable of being insulted or brushed off. She's probably gone through dozens, if not hundreds, of potential friends with her loony pronouncements. People have probably moved from their homes in the middle of the night to escape her and gone to live in Venezuela under assumed names.'

“Oh, Shelley,' Jane whined. 'My life's falling apart before my eyes. My foot is broken; my son is out to dinner with a freak of a girl; and I have a nutcase groupie.”

Shelley just shook her head. 'Such is life,' she said.