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like Marlon Brando; with his cheeks all puffed out like that,” Dan said to Lynn, who nodded back in agreement and smiled.
    Dan removed a paper handkerchief from his pocket, tore it in two and stuffed it into his own cheeks, padding them out. “You come to my home,” Dan mimicked rather well. “You come to my home on my daughter’s wedding day to ask me to do murder, but you never think of inviting me to your home. Also, you don’t think to call me Godfather. What did I do to you to have you disrespect me so?”
    â€œMmm, mmm,” was the only sound to come from Tom’s mouth as he tried to speak.
    â€œGo dad,” Grace laughed and clapped as Lynn looked away, laughing.
    It was a full two minutes before Tom swallowed the last mouthful of steak, and as he dabbed at his gravy stained chin with a napkin, he spoke.
    â€œI was saying, it’s probably those electricity poles at the back of the house that’s responsible, dad. No one knows the crap those things send off.”
    â€œSay what?”
    â€œThose headaches you’re having, that’s the probable cause for them, the electricity,” Tom added.
    â€œIt is?” Dan questioned with an astonished look.
    â€œYeah, Toms right,” Grace their daughter stated with an heir of authority.
    â€œWe studied the effects of electro magnetic fields at college,” she added.
    â€œElectro magnetic fields? Electricity poles?” Dan mumbled, pretending to be puzzled.
    â€œYeah, radiation fields, that are caused by the um, electricity from the cables.”
    Dan looked to his wife, and nodded.
    â€œI never knew that. Guess we will just have to move home then, maybe to a new town, if that’s the way things are,” Dan answered. “These radiation fields are something I had never thought about before,” he added, as he rubbed loosely at his forehead.
    A sudden silence came over the table. Tom and Grace had been raised in this town. All their friends lived near them, and this was the only home they’d ever known. They just couldn’t leave now. Besides, didn’t the tests show that dad was all right anyhow?
    â€œIt takes a long time for that sort of stuff to affect human beings though,” Tom said. “Maybe fifty or sixty years, maybe even a … “
    â€œYeah, m-maybe even a hundred,” Grace quickly interrupted.
    Dan laughed loudly, now that they had forced themselves into a corner.
    â€œDon’t worry folk’s. We aren’t planning on moving just yet,” he assured them.
    â€œNow eat your damn steaks before they get cold or grow old.”
    *  *  *  *  *
    Dan annoyingly swirled his glass around, causing a little mini tornado of red wine that somehow reminded him of something, and as he stared at it, the woman caught his eye, just above the rim of the glass.
    She was standing about two feet inside the entrance, beside a large reprint of Giotto’s, Mourning of Christ, which somehow looked out of place in these ultra modern surroundings.
    This woman had obviously been a beautiful creature at one time in her life, Dan felt. But something must have changed for her.
    She looked unkempt, her hair matted and in somewhat of a mess. On top of that fact, she looked distraught. No, there was something else. Something in her body language that gave it away. Dan didn’t know whether it was the twitching mouth, or the almost unnatural violent head movements, which stopped the moment she made eye contact with him.
    No! This lady looked as though she’d just been released from some damn lunatic asylum, and pretty recently, he felt.
    And now she was staring down wildly at him.
    There was something familiar about her though, something that he couldn’t quite place.
    Dan looked around, over his shoulder, but there was no one else behind him. Now he was sure her wild stares were directed only at him.
    He raised his head slightly, trying to