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Organization with whom he had been employed for over twenty years, he gathered the true and rarely known facts that were desperately needed, dirtying his hands in the field he not only loved but considered his specialty. Each year, without fail, he monitored and delivered the painful truth to the World Health Organization that the Bubonic Plague was alive, well, and still claiming lives at an astronomical rate in his chosen home of Madagascar.

CHAPTER FOUR
     
     
    Lodi, Ohio
     
    The question, ‘may I borrow your son,’ frightened Dylan beyond belief. She didn’t want to tell Patrick ‘yes’, but somehow when the handsome teacher came over requesting Anthony so he could get him ice cream with the other kids, all Dylan could do was nod. Watching the suave new Lodi resident left her speechless. But she knew that any schoolgirl smirk she had on her face better disappear because Mick would be back soon. She kept shifting her eyes to Patrick and the children he had with him. He got along with them well and was a natural teacher. She waited for the moment Tigger came running back because something had happened. Dylan kept waiting. Tigger only played.
    She sat on a blanket in an emptier section of the park. Most people settled closer to where the band played, as if they couldn’t hear them if they were back some.
    If the song ‘Come on Feel the Noise’ were being played at that instant by some band where the members barely surpassed twenty, Dylan supposed the park would be empty. However, since it was Dexter’s Rolling Rockers, there wasn’t an empty spot around the band left to dance. The group of sixty-year old men, who deliberately mocked the 1980s with tight ripped jeans and faded Quiet Riot tee shirts, blasted the tune at an appeasable level with minimal distortion, adding the smooth lounge band feel. Every couple, elderly and young, loved the band. Autographs were always asked for as if they were some sort of rock stars. Dylan had to admit she enjoyed the band, and though she really wanted to get some ice cream for herself, she knew the band’s set. Fearing that she’d miss their rendition of Duran-Duran’s ‘Hungry Like The Wolf’, Dylan stayed put.
     
    The smile.
    That was the first thing Mick saw when he arrived at Central Park. He didn’t want to be called away, but it was his job. It could have been worse; the four car minor fender bender could have Mick tied up for hours. Instead he observed the exchanging of information, hurried them along, issued citations he figured would be fought later, and moved on.
    To Dylan.
    Without a doubt, Mick was openly and absolutely crazy about Dylan. He had been for as long as he remembered. Since they were kids, there hadn’t been an instance that Mick didn’t seize the opportunity when Dylan and Sam broke up. Sometimes Mick and Dylan only dabbled in trying to be a couple, but nothing ever was serious or deep until the last breakup.
    Mick had taken the breakup seriously, as did Dylan. Final. The end. Sam had left town, and against his own interests, Mick had located him. Sam had settled somewhere in West Texas and refused to return home.
    That was fine with Mick. Dylan, on the other hand, didn’t take it as well. She went out a lot, drank too much. Mick followed her all the time, on duty or not, to make sure she was all right. A month after Sam left, Mick took yet another chance with her.
    He gave her three choices that night in the bar. One, she could sit there and develop really bad posture from her habit of slouching on the barstool. Two, she could become the town’s newest lush, or three, instead of abusing alcohol, Dylan could just let Mick take away her pain.
    Mick never expected her to take him up on his offer; he hoped, but he didn’t expect it. Perhaps he should have waited until she was sober before sleeping with her. But he got caught up in the moment, and he did chase her down several times the next day to make sure Dylan had no regrets. She