"I'm lost."

"OK, follow the metaphor. You're in the restroom, then you're here.

Point A to point B."

"Uh-huh."

"You're here, and then you're in a new world. Not another planet, another level of existence. Somewhere you normally can't get to from here. You've gone from point A to point . That's where we're trying to get to. Got it?"

Kurt thought about this.

"So why this conspiracy?"

"It'll take a concerted effort if we're going to take the town with us."

Kurt's jaw dropped. "All of it?"

"Every last citizen and every last piece of concrete. A community isn't an easy thing to build, is it? So we'll just bring along what we've got."

"Including Wildcat Graham?"

"Who?"

"She's a senior at Tranquil High."

"Yes, if she's in town."

"What about Wendy Branwell?"

"Yes, her too," Denny said, placing his head in his hands.

"And --"

The door burst opened. Denny and Kurt turned to see Prof. Sigger enter wearing a white lab coat and holding a clipboard -- a smirk borne of a thousand cut-throat departmental meetings perched cruelly on his lips.

"Allow me," said the latest recruit. "Due to recent vacancies I was offered a post... tenure track, of course! Let me interrogate this capitalist."

"I'm a capitalist," Denny said, sternly.

"Oh yes, yes," Prof. Sigger replied. He turned to Kurt. "Now, when did you first notice that you were being indoctrinated by right-wing ideologues?"

"What?" Kurt asked, scratching his arm.

"When did you become a mind-numbed robot? Why have you become resistant to income redistribution?"

Kurt looked at Denny, who was rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"It's going to be a perfect world with him along?" Kurt asked.

Denny looked up and stared at his colleague for a moment, who then disappeared. The clipboard fell to the floor. Kurt stared at the s.p.a.ce before him that used to occupy Prof. Sigger.

"Cool..." he whispered.

23. Real Love "Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it."

-- Song of Solomon 8:7

Ritchie flipped through the clipboard one more time before placing it on the table between his recliner and his wife's rocking chair.

"Did you find anything useful?" Betty asked, without looking up from her knitting. Tom and Alona sat across from them on the coach, holding hands and gazing into each other's eyes.

"Did we ever look that stupid?" Ritchie whispered.

"Oh yes," Betty replied confidently.

"Thank G.o.d I'm getting old," Ritchie grunted.

"Now, hon'," Betty admonished gently.

"I only found one name in there that might help us at all. Any idea where Seltsam Street or Avenue or whatever it is might be?"

"No idea. Are you sure it's a street and not a name of somebody?"

"A couple pages referred to it as a meeting place. I guess we'll have to see if the Lovebirds birds know anything. Standby with a bucket of cold water in case I can't get through," he said.

Betty chuckled and kept knitting.

Ritchie cleared his throat. Getting no response, he tried again with gusto. He considered tossing the TV Guide at them, but figured that would be too humiliating. So he settled on using his 'voice of authority': "Hey, Lovebirds!"

The Lovebirds jumped slightly and turned toward the voice, as if unaware that anyone else had been in the room.

"Any idea where Seltsam Street or Avenue or whatever it is might be?"

"Seltsam? Sounds German," Alona said.

"Seltsam Way?" Tom asked.

"Could be," Ritchie said.

"That's that cul de sac that ends up behind the theater."

"Oh!" Betty said. "Remember when they rezoned Doege? They put in Vine Avenue and the library and cut off Seltsam, remember? There were those town meetings about it -- oh my, that would have to be thirty years ago!"

"That has been a while! I forgot all about that street. Tom, does any other business have access to Seltsam?"

But Tom and Alona had already lost themselves again in each other's eyes.

"Oh for Pete's sake!" Ritchie muttered.