The picture was coming clearer now. It seemed the way to get to the Doctor was going to be through the kids... and maybe the wife. It would be interesting to get my friend Chris, who is a private detective, busy on this. I felt sure he would dig up the kids' records, their report cards, and the first drawings they did in Fourth Grade, if I asked him to. But that would have to wait, as I heard the Harley noise outside; Chester and Marta were back!

I eased Krista off and opened the door, sure their arms would be full of stuff. Good thing Ches had a classic Hog with a sidecar; it was stuffed to the cover with bags from Shopko and Walgreen's and the grocery, getting us the stuff we needed.

"Any problems with shopping? Questions? Suspicious glances?" I was concerned as he handed my plastic back.

"Huh? Oh, hell no. They look at the platinum and don't care that I'm a biker or nuthin'. Picking out clothes for you was easy, we've always been the same size. Krista was harder, but Marta picked out a variety of stuff. She can pick what she likes."

Sorting through the stuff, I saw razors and shampoo and stuff as well as tooth brushes and paste and clothes. He had picked quiet colors for me, and some plaid shirts for Hog-riding, along with a jean jacket. Somehow he had found a Sturgis cap for me. Always had an eye for detail, did Chester.

Glancing over at Marta and Rusty, I saw the distance between them. She still had to learn to trust some; that would take time. "Krista! Why not let Marta help you shampoo and trim your hair? She did it professionally for a while, and used to do my hair now and again." That was usually a bridging point for women. Maybe some girl-talk would help.