Chapter Twenty-One   The hot water escaping the showerhead rolled gently over Erin’s wet hair, down her face, and over her body.  She couldn’t think of anything that had ever felt better to her.  The steamy condensation in the bathroom was so dense; it was dripping off the painted ceiling.  She was hoping that the hot water tank would soon run cold so it would force her to get out of the shower.    She needed to get something to eat, but was unwilling to leave the warmth of the scalding water.   Reluctantly, she turned off the spigot and towel dried her hair.  She used the towel to wipe a round in the condensation to look at her face.  She could see her freckles again, her hair smelled clean once more, and she was now officially famished.   Erin put on a cotton shirt Tim had neatly folded in the bottom of his backpack.  She didn’t have any more pants so reluctantly put on her dirty ones.  She would seek new clothes immediately after she got a hair cut.  Luckily, her hair was cut quite short.  Not as short as a typical man’s cut, but short enough to comb like a man’s.  She parted the wet hair on the left side and combed it over.  She swept back the side hair over her ears, and then pressed down on the top to flatten the hair to her head.    Erin swung her arms open and said out loud, “A-a-a,” in her best Fonzie imitation from the sitcom Happy Day’s.  “Youse don’t look so bad.  Maybe Patti would like a piece of jou.  Would youse like to get a bite to eat?  Come on, good looking.”   Erin put on her rain jacket.  It wasn’t raining, but she had nothing else to wear.  She put a new jacket on her mental new clothing list.  Off she went, taking larger than normal strides, manly strides, down the street.  She turned the corner as the motel owner had instructed and saw the familiar barber pole outside a little storefront.  This town is so cute.  Get that cutesy thing out of your head.  You are a man now.  Things aren’t cute—they are cool.    Erin arrived at the barbershop as one gentleman was leaving.  No one was waiting in the shop, so she jumped up into the chair.  The barber had his back to her but looked at her in the mirror.  “Hair cut today?” He said.   “Yep,” Erin answered.  “I’ve been out in the woods for awhile, so I need one badly, as you can see.”   “Been logging?” The barber asked.   “Nope, been on a hiking vacation.  Decided to stop and visit your little town.”   “You don’t work?” He asked.   “Oh, sure, but I’m on sabbatical.”   “You a teacher?”  He quizzed.   “Yeah.”  Keep it brief.  You gave him too much information already.   “OK,” he said as he swung around with his scissors.  “How do you want it?”   “Short, over the ears.  Typical hair cut.”  She swung her hands around her head as she spoke.   “OK.  What’s your name?” He asked as he started snipping the hair with his scissors.   “Aaron.” She answered.    “How long are you in town for?”  Snip, snip, snip.   “I don’t know,” she answered.  “I could be here for awhile.”  Keep it simple, nothing specific, just polite conversation.   “Where you staying?” The barber continued with the questions.   “At the motel,” she answered pointing down the street.   The barber turned back to the mirror again.  He switched on the electric sheers, outlined the cut and shaved her neck.  He looked at her face.  Oh, oh, she thought.  He’s going to notice the absence of a beard.  “Kind of a light beard you got there,” he said.    Erin held her breath.  If he suspected anything, he didn’t send a clue.  “I get all kinds in here.  Some got heavy beards; some hardly got any at all.  Personally, I prefer to work on you slick-faced ones.  I’ll just trim up your sideburns.”  He grabbed a leather strap that was hanging on the back of the barber chair.  He moved his straight razor back and forth over the strap in an almost dancing movement.  The barber squirted an aerosol dollop of shaving lotion on his fingers.  He placed it beside Erin’s ears under the end of her sideburns.   One swipe of the straight razor on each sideburn and he was done.  “You want some stinky stuff on your hair?”  The barber swung the chair toward the door and whipped off Erin’s protective cape.   “No thanks,” Erin said as she stood up and reached into her pocket for money.  “I’m good.”   “OK, that’ll be ten bucks.”   “Thanks, here's fifteen.  Be honest with me, is the food any good next door?”   “If you like good home cooking, you can’t beat it.  Mention my name, Sammy, and maybe he won’t spit in your food,” he winked, folded the green currency, and placed it in his white barber coat pocket.    Erin stuck out her hand and shook Sammy’s.  “Will do.”   Erin looked in the mirror as she left the barbershop.  At first she hardly recognized herself.   I’m not a bad looking dude, she thought.  About three strides down the sidewalk found her in front of the café.  When she opened the door, she nearly passed out.  The food smelled warm and wonderful.    She noticed there were a few booths along the walls, a few tables in the middle of the room, and three stools along the countertop.  Erin opted for a stool.  She wanted to get to know all these people.  Might as well be aggressive and get up in their face.  There was a morning newspaper spread out over most of the countertop.    The worker behind the counter was trying to read in between customers.  There was a small window behind the counter that looked into the kitchen area.  The cook was busy preparing some food for a couple in one of the booths.   “Hi, there,” said the worker behind the counter as he came up to Erin.  “Coffee?”  He whipped up a white mug onto the counter and poised the coffee pot over the rim.   “I would love a cup, thanks,” she answered.   “What can I get you, or do you want to look at the menu?”   “Are you serving lunch yet?” She asked.   “Serve anything, anytime we are opened.  What can I get for you?”   “I would like a bacon cheeseburger, with everything on it, including onions.  I would like that with French fries and a chocolate shake.  Oh, a glass of water and cream for my coffee. Can you do that?”   “Will do.  I’ll be right back with your water and cream.”   “Great.  Are you done with any part of the newspaper?  It has been awhile since I’ve seen one.”   The counter person put ice water and cold creamer on the counter.  “You been on the road for awhile?”   “Yeah,” Erin explained.  “A couple of weeks.”   The counter person pulled the newspaper over to Erin.  “Here, knock yourself out.”   “Thanks,” Erin answered.  She folded the paper back to what looked like the original folds.  The front page of the news was the typical world crime report.  Behind the front section was the Sports Section.  The Sports Section—absolutely something a guy would read.  She spread open the entire sports page and put her nose down to look like she was really interested in what it had to say.   Erin finished her coffee and thought she probably had looked at the Sport’s Section long enough.  Behind the Sport was the Local section.  The above-the-fold story was accompanied by a picture of what looked like a crumpled wad of aluminum foil.  The headline read:   Local Professor Killed in Freak Accident Forest Glenn:  A well-known Professor at the University of Pacific Rim died Thursday night in what police are saying was an unusual automobile crash.  Dr. Todd Williams, 45, a PHD and a Professor of English Studies at UPR was driving east on Mockingbird Avenue.    Witnesses say for no apparent reason, Williams’ car swerved, ran off the road, hit a tree, and burst into flames.    Crash witnesses tried in vain to get Dr. Williams out before flames consumed his auto, but the fire was too intense.    An investigation is continuing.  Williams had no next of kin.  His post at the university will be taken over by other professors in the department until the end of the semester.  Williams was a 33-degree Mason at the Grand Lodge of Oregon in Forest Glenn.   “You have a Grand Lodge of Oregon here in Forest Glenn?” Erin asked.   “Do we ever?  It takes up several city blocks—over on intersection of Hwy 99 and 226. Are you a Mason?” The counter person waited curiously for an answer.    “No, but I’ve always been interested,” Erin answered.   “Well, if you’re looking to get involved, get a job at the university.  Most of those guys over there are Masons.  Some kind of brotherhood, huh?”   Erin looked back down at the newspaper article.  Well, Professor Williams, have you opened a door for me?  I could drop right into the middle of this Masonic sect unnoticed and continue my quest for knowledge of this secret society.  Thank you, Dr. Williams.  I believe you have done me a huge favor.    “Do you mind if I keep this article?” Erin asked as the waiter laid her cheeseburger, fries, and chocolate shake down in front of her.    “Sure, take it.  Pretty much done with the paper anyway.”   Erin was silent as she ravenously devoured her meal.  She couldn’t remember when food had tasted better.  She gulped down her milkshake and was immediately sorry as a brain-freeze followed.  Erin took a sip of hot coffee to neutralize the cold.    “Well, I have seen some mighty big appetites in my life, but none as big as yours.  You eat like you hadn’t seen food in awhile. Do you want some pie for dessert?”   Erin smiled.  “It has been a few weeks since my last good meal.  I guess all that being in harmony with nature is just a lot of bunk.”  She peeled off a twenty-dollar bill and told her waiter to keep the change.   “Hey, thanks.  You all come back anytime.  I would be interested to see if you get a job at the university.”   “You will be the first to know.  See ya.”    Erin was off on a mission—how to become a university professor while keeping the secrets of all secrets—she was not whom she professed to be.  Of all Erin’s qualities, good or bad, tenacity was her most virtuous.  When she set her mind to something, people had better get out of the way.  She was going to achieve whatever she set her mind to achieve.  Figuring out how to become a professor was only a slight bump in the road.   As Erin stepped out of the café, she noticed a small sign in the barbershop window.  She hadn’t noticed it before, but she really hadn’t been looking.  “For Rent—Furnished Apartment—Inquire within.”   Erin stuck her head in Sammy’s barbershop door.  “Sammy, you have an apartment to rent?”   “Sure do, Aaron,” he answered.  “Come in.  Are you interested?”   “Well, I have been giving this town a lot of thought and I really like it here.  I might even try to get a job at the university.  Where is the apartment?”   “Good for you.  The apartment is upstairs.  If you go out the door and turn right you will see a little alcove between this building and the next.  The stairs lead up to an apartment that is right above the barbershop.  Do you want to look at it?”   Erin backed out the door and looked over her shoulder at the next building.  “Sure.  Do you have the keys?”   “Right beside you head.  Hanging on that hook.  Just grab them and go see for yourself.”   “Thanks,” Erin replied.  “I will be right back.”   Erin climbed the stairs to the door.  The key slipped into the lock and she turned the knob.  She stepped into an entryway where a hall closet greeted her.  She turned to the right where the front room lay before her.  Three small windows lined the wall overlooking the street.  She walked to the windows.  How perfect.  She could see down the street to the university from these windows.  The windows also allowed the sun to enter the room and fill it with warmth.  She turned around to see a small kitchen on the right, separated from the front room by a small counter, a bathroom beyond the kitchen, and a bedroom on the left.  Not much room, but very adequate.    The furnishings were left over from the 1940s.  Large over-stuffed pieces but looked very comfortable.  A small desk was placed next to the front windows.  She sat down on the desk chair and envisioned herself living in this small room.  There was a TV in front of the side chair, a couple of end tables, two stools near the counter, and two lamps.    She walked to the bathroom and bedroom.  The bathroom was very small.  It held a shower/tub, a toilet, and a sink.  You could spin around and touch everything in it without taking a step.  There was a small window high on the shower wall.   The bedroom had one small closet and a double bed with a side drawer and lamp next to it.   There was one larger dresser and one wooden chair in the corner of the room.  It was quite quaint.  She liked it.  It was a good thing she didn’t have many possessions.  There wasn’t any storage room.   Erin locked up the door and skipped down the stairs.  She opened Sammy’s door and placed the key in Sammy’s hands.  “I like it.  How much?”   “Well, I want $200 for it.”   “A week?” She asked.   “No, a month,” he answered.  “I can provide all your utilities for $250.  The telephone is restricted to local only, no long distance.  If you want long distance you will have to go to a payphone.”   “Deal,” she quickly responded.  “I would like to have it open-ended.  I don’t know if I will get a job at the university, but if I do, I may want it more long-term.  OK?”   “Deal.  You will have to provide your own linens,” Sammy said as he stuck his hand out for a shake.    Erin shook Sammy’s hand then reached into her pocket for the rent money.  She peeled off five 100-dollar bills and handed them to him.  “First and last month’s rent.”   “Aaron, I wouldn’t go flashing around a wad like that.”   “Don’t worry; you got the majority of my wad.  I have a few 10s and 20s and then I am broke.  So wish me luck on landing a job.”  She was absolutely amazed at how easy it had become to lie.   Chapter Twenty-Two   Erin decided to scout around the area before she went back to her room at the motel.  Next to the alcove to her apartment was a Laundromat.  There was one empty storefront next to the Laundromat.  An antique store and a drug store completed the stores on the block.  She turned the corner and found a neighborhood market.  This town was like stepping back in time.  No big box stores, at least not in the downtown area.  There were just small storefronts with people walking along the sidewalks window-shopping.    Parallel parking was allowed in the street.  No parking meters, no two-hour parking spots, no commercial zones, just a simple come park and shop.  Erin spotted two women’s clothing shops across the street, but so far no men’s shops.  A hardware store completed the block that housed her apartment.   One more turn and Erin was on Main Street.  She spotted a men’s store and a Goodwill Store.  She ran across Main Street to the Goodwill.  She decided to buy a few pieces of clothing there and what she couldn’t find at Goodwill she would buy at the men’s store.   Erin pushed the glass door open and the bell above the door tinkled her entrance.  A woman behind the counter welcomed her to the shop.  Erin glanced over the racks of clothing and spotted what looked like the men’s section.  She thought she might buy a pair of Levis, a shirt, and a jacket for right now.  She wasn’t sure how she wanted to dress.  She would need to see what the other professors were wearing at the university.  She guessed sport coat, tie, Dockers, and loafer shoes.  She would need to return for more shopping.  This was just an emergency stop.   The clerk rang up her purchases.  “That will be $12.00,” she declared.    Erin paid the clerk and ran back across the street to the men’s store.  She again pushed open a glass front door and was greeted with the now familiar bell tinkle.  Maybe I have dropped back in time, she thought.  This is surreal.  She dipped into her back pants pocket to retrieve the newspaper article about Dr. Gibbon’s death.  She actually checked the date on the newspaper to see that it was not 1955.  The paper confirmed that she was indeed in the year 2007.    Erin spotted a male clerk behind the counter hanging new garments on a portable clothes rack.  “Can I help you?  He asked.    “I just need some underwear and socks,” Erin answered.  She felt very uncomfortable thinking about buying men’s underwear for herself, so tried to imagine she was buying for Tim.    “On the back wall,” the clerk announced.  “You will find everything you need.  If you need my help, just holler.”   “Thanks,” she answered as she weaved her way through the racks of suits, pants, and shirts.  Erin found some boxer shorts.  She thought she might be able to wear these comfortably.  She wasn’t sure she was ready for briefs.  She found a stretch, athletic undershirt.  She thought a size too small would help her keep her chest flattened.  No more bras and undies for her, just boxer shorts and sleeveless undershirts.   This was going to take a lot of getting used to.  No make-up, no shaving legs or underarms and, worst of all, no intimate friends either men or women.  No more sex, no more cuddling, no more kissing—unless “Patti” could keep Erin’s secret.  That was something Erin was not going to test.   On the way back to the motel, concerns regarding Erin’s identity filled her head.  She became very anxious about her future.  Was she doing the right thing?  Was she loosing her mind?  Was it worth this dramatic change to her life just to get into the inner circle of the Freemasons Lodge?   Erin almost ran the last 100 yards to her motel room.  She threw her purchases on a chair and sat cross-legged on the bed.  She grabbed a pencil and paper from the nightstand.  She needed to get things down on paper to weigh the consequences and devise a plan.    Erin wrote “Short-Term Goal” on the top of the page.  She drew a box on the bottom of the page.  She decided the best way she could evaluate her plan was to fill in the box with her ultimate goal and work backwards up the page.  In the bottom box she placed “Professor of English Studies, UPR.”  She drew a box above that and wrote “Successful Job Interview.”  “Now,” she said aloud.  “What do I need to have for a successful job interview?”   She drew three boxes.  In one box she wrote “Teaching Credentials.”  In another she wrote “Reference Letters.”  In the third box she wrote “Certified College Transcripts.”  She drew two boxes above those and wrote in one “Driver’s License,” and in the other, “Social Security Card.”   This is the plan she needed to see.  This is the beginning of a new identity.  Now, how should she go about obtaining all these documents?  She lay back on the bed.  Her mind was reeling.  These were very complex documents.  How could she have possibly ever thought she could pull this off?  It must have been a chemical reaction to low-blood sugar from going so long with nothing to eat.  She lay splayed out on the bed seemingly defeated.  This was just too big.  Was it worth the effort?    Erin’s hand landed on the TV remote.  She decided to turn on the television.  The local news was just starting and she sat up startled at the lead story.  She couldn’t believe her eyes as her own picture stared back at her from the TV screen.    “There have been no new leads on the sudden disappearance of Erin Anderson.  Last month her car was found abandoned, covered with brush in the forest off Highway 22.  Dogs and helicopters were dispatched and all leads through the mountainous terrain have been exhausted,” the news anchor read.   A video of Tim in front of their mountain home came on the screen.  A microphone appeared in the picture.  Tim sobbed into the microphone, “We have no idea what might have happened to her.  She was having some emotional problems, but I never thought she would have gone to such extreme measures as to just disappear.”   Erin jumped off the bed.  She walked up to the TV screen and yelled at Tim.  “Emotional problems!  You asshole!”  She threw the remote on the bed and stomped around the room.  She was so angry she thought she was going to have a stroke.    “Emotional problems?” She said again.  “You, you asshole, were my emotional problems.”    The news anchor continued, “All coordinated efforts have been suspended pending further information that would indicate that Erin was still alive.  Family and friends continue to search the woods near where the car was located in an attempt to gather any evidence as to Mrs. Anderson fate.”   So, I have emotional problems and am presumed dead.  Erin continued to pace.  Well, I guess my questions have been answered.  Not only is this identity change worth the effort, but also now, is absolutely necessary.   As if an answer to some silent prayer, the news story now showing on the screen was a heart-wrenching story of a person in Portland telling about her identity having been stolen.    “That’s it,” Erin said aloud.  “There is someone out there somewhere that can help me get a new identity and probably all the documents I need.  For a price, I am sure.  Now, where could I find someone to help me?”  She looked down at the card lying next to her telephone.  Patti (503) 555-2398.  Erin dialed the number.     A sultry, “Hello,” came from the telephone receiver.    “Hello.  Is this Patti?” Erin asked in her lowest man-voice.   “Well, yes it is darlin’.  What can I do for you?”   “Patti, the motel manager gave me your number.  I don’t really need anything other than information.  I am looking to buy some stuff.”  She stopped and hesitated, waiting for Patti to say something.    “Stuff?” Patti asked.  “What kind of stuff, honey.”   Erin’s head was spinning.  How much should she tell this unknown woman?  “Maybe some pot or something like that.”   “Oh, that kind of stuff.  Well, honey, I don’t deal in drugs.  But if you go down to the main highway then go to the corner where the Safeway shopping mall is located, you will find a young man sitting in his car.  It’s a white Subaru.  He has all kinds of ‘stuff.’  The high school is right down the street and there are usually kids hanging around the lot all day and night.  He should be able to fix you up.”   “Thanks, Patti,” Erin said.  “Thanks for the information.  And if I ever need companionship, I will give you call.”   “I’m here whenever you need me, darlin’, only a phone call away.”   Erin hung up the phone, stuffed some large bills in her pants pocket, and grabbed her jacket.  She stopped at the pharmacy on her way to the Safeway shopping mall.  The sign in the window claimed passport pictures were available inside.  She posed for three headshots in front of the digital camera.  About 2 minutes later, she had finished photos in her hand.    Erin walked the 6 blocks to the Safeway mall on the main highway.  Patti was right, the white Subaru was parked among the other customer cars and several teenagers were indeed hanging around.  She walked toward the car.  The teens saw her coming and quickly walked away.  The young man in the car jumped out of the driver’s side door and started walking toward the store.    Erin quickened her step and said, “Please stop.  Can I talk to you?”   The suspected drug dealer kept moving toward the store, looked over his shoulder, and then turned to face Erin.  “You a narc?”  He demanded to know.  “I ain’t done nothing wrong.”   “No, nothing like that,” Erin answered.  “I need your help.  Can we talk?”   The young man was a little taller than Erin and dressed in clean clothes.  His hair was pulled back in a ponytail laying low against his neck.  He stopped his flight and asked, “What?”   Erin caught up to the dealer and looked him in the eye.  “I need to ask you a question.  Let’s walk.”  She took his elbow and turned him toward the street.  As they reached the sidewalk, out of hearing range of Safeway shoppers, she asked him if he did anything else besides deal drugs.   “I don’t deal, mister,” he snapped back.  “I don’t do nothing wrong.”   “Yeah, yeah.  Patti gave me your location.  Do you know Patti?”   “Oh, Patti,” he mused.  “Everybody knows Patti.  Did she show you a good time?”    “The best,” Erin answered.  “Besides dealing, can you get a person a new identity?”   “Whata ya mean?” He answered.    “Listen,” Erin started.  “I need to get identification papers.  Driver’s license, social security card, that sort of thing.  Can you help me?”   “Oh, identification cards.  Sure.  I don’t do them, but I know a guy in Portland that has contacts all over the world.  Who do you want to be?”   Erin pulled out her passport pictures.  She handed them over to the dealer.  “I want to be Aaron Jones.  Do you want me to write this all down?”   “No, I have a good memory.  I write nothing down.  There’s no way to follow a paper trail if there ain’t no paper.”  He laughed.    “So, Aaron Jones, you want a driver’s license and social security card.  You are about, what, five-foot nine, 175 pounds, brown hair, and brown eyes.  Want some phony address in Oregon, right?  Anywhere but here, right?”   “That would be a good start.  My birthday can be anytime.  I would like to be around 32 years old,” Erin continued.    “That will be easy, anything else?  $150 per piece.”   “Well, yes,” Erin answered.  “But these might be a little harder to do and I am willing to pay more, but I need certified transcripts for a bachelor’s degree from an obscure college on the east coast.   I want a Master’s Degree from another college, and I want a doctorate from yet another college.”   “Whoa,” the dealer went back on his heals.  “A doctor?  You are a doctor?”   “Not a physician,” Erin answered.  “A PhD doctor.  I want all my degrees to be in English Studies.  I want excellent grades also, but not straight A’s.  Might be too suspicious.  I want the degrees so real that if you were to call the college, someone would actually remember me attending their class.”   “Hey,” the dealer retorted.  “I can make you a Vale-fucking-dictorian.”   “Not necessary,” Erin said.  “I don’t want to be that memorable.  I also need all the necessary teaching certificates to teach in Oregon and at least one letter of reference.”   The dealer stroked his face, musing.  “Ok, I think I have all the information.  The driver’s license and social security card will be here by Sunday.  The rest of the stuff will take more time.   Three hundred up front for the Sunday delivery.  The rest is gonna cost you a lot.  I’d say about six grand, half now and half on delivery.  You got that kinda money?”   Not wanting to give away to this drug dealer any of her financial details, Erin fished out $300 from her pocket.  “Here’s the up-front money.  I have about one thousand dollars with me for the rest of the papers.  That is all I can come up with today.  I can have a couple thousand more when I get the Sunday delivery.”   The dealer thought for a long time.  Erin didn’t want to seem desperate, but she didn’t want to lose this opportunity either.  She went into her pockets again.  She peeled off ten one hundred dollar bills.  She put them in front of his face.  He grabbed the stack of bills.    “OK,” he said.  “Meet you here on Sunday noon.  Bring another two thousand or the rest of the papers don’t go through.  Got it?”   “Got it,” Erin answered.  She was really hanging out on a limb.  She just gave thirteen hundred dollars to a total stranger, a drug dealer, and actually had to trust that he was going to come through with the goods.   “Want any drugs?” The dealer asked.   “Sorry,” Erin answered. “Didn’t think you dealt.  And besides, you’ve got all my money.”   Chapter Twenty-Three   After Erin parted ways with the drug dealer, she was emotionally drained.  She didn’t want to go back to the motel just then, so decided to walk around the city.  Three blocks from the Safeway mall, she found University Drive.  On the Drive was the campus of the University of Pacific Rim.