When she came to, in a cinder block room with one wired off window, the first thought, she couldn’t shake it, was what might have happened to her while she was out. When they brought her here, had they searched her? Had they got her to talk? No, if they could do that then the U.S army wouldn’t still be using Guantanamo Bay. The pressure in her head was almost unbearable; she wondered what had gone wrong. How did they find out; was it her? What had she done? Or had they found everyone? That thought frightened her even more. She was so thirsty she felt sick and quickly had to sit up and put her head between her knees.

Then she forced herself to sit up and look again, but there was definitely no water in the room. There was nothing in the room except the cot they had laid her on and the small grilled window high up, not even a one way glass to keep her under observation. There was no reason to observe her though, there was nothing she could do, and nothing she was likely to say out loud. They could simply keep her here for as long as they liked…

She knew it would do no good, but she had to stand on the cot and find out if she could see anything out the window. There was only the thick paned wavy glass and nothing more.

Finally she thought to check if she could still reach Gideon, and he was there with her like a different kind of light had suddenly been turned on in the room. And he answered her first question before she asked it. Yes, he had told Eric, that she was in danger, in trouble, and about the two men that had taken her away. Eric had told him what the g-men, that’s what Eric called them, were after, and he had to tell her that they had taken her computer. Gideon said he would be there with her as often as he could; however, they might be interrupted sometimes because there were some kind of machines nearby that interrupted, that produced static that interfered with communication. And he suggested that she keep looking around the room, not look like she was listening to him, because she was being watched. Leetzia decided to try the door, just for the hell of it; smiling to herself at the almost surreal action.

Gideon smiled with her, and she knew then the effect this room was supposed to have on her, but she didn’t have to let it take over. “Gid, thanks for being here, y’know I was getting so depressed, I almost couldn’t think when I thought I was all by myself here---the thought of being cut off from everyone and at the mercy of these people. Well, I’m not sure they have any---they looked like they’d do anything to follow orders; it was inhuman, and Gid I’m scared, but I need to keep thinking. Can you tell Eric where I am?”

“If he needed to come here, I could bring him…Leetzie, you will not truly be alone.”

Leetzia was moving slowly around the room, feeling dizzy under the flicker of the fluorescent lights reflecting off the thick white walls and waxed old linoleum.

“I wish I could bring you water,” said Gideon, “you are dehydrated; nothing wrong with you, just that.”

“O.K.,” she said and sat down.

“Leetzie, before you go back to sleep, Eric is waiting to hear from you…”

“Tell him someone needs to tell my Uncle Jack, you know the one we talked about, tell him where I am.” And then she had to lie down as a wave of nausea hit her again.

“I’ll be back when you awaken,” was the last thing she heard.

She woke up to the door opening as a gray haired uniformed woman with a serious face walked in. She was slowly sitting up when she felt Gid arrive too, and with Gid’s mind joined to hers, she could see that the woman’s expression was designed to tell her that she was In Deep Trouble, she had better Give Up Now, and Beg Them to Help Her. Before the woman even opened her mouth, Leetzia knew that would be the basic message in what she would say. And Gideon smiled for her, that this woman who thought she was so important, was so one-dimensional, so see-through, and that led to the insight that the woman’s self-importance had a snake-like quality---disturb it and she would strike you without thinking, so Leetzia was warned and prepared to cringe before the woman’s first words reached her…

“ Lateisha O’Donahue, why are you here?”

She let the shame and sorrow and anger and fear rise up in her like a bubble, and she let it spill out. “They, they kidnapped me, they drugged me…. They forced me to come here, they broke…into my house…. Who are they? Why am I here? Who are you? Oh, please help me… And the woman smiled.

Leetzia was absolutely certain she’d left her door closed, but, maybe, just maybe, she’d forgotten to lock it…and it was open now. Her first impulse was to walk away; yeah for instincts she was to think later, but she was curious--- and worried. Someone could be in there doing terrible things to her beloved Bug---if they damaged the hard drive---next, she thought of her Fender, for some reason banging into a wall, the strings' dischordant shock. She sighed, and then her wondering was over. There were suddenly two men beside her, special security ops she guessed by their looks, and she knew what this was about. Somehow she had never imagined this could happen to her; in fact, the thought of it really happening anywhere she knew seemed ludicrous, melodramatic, and yet, she was well aware that these two dark shadows at her shoulders were not going to disappear. They were standing far too close, in stances that let her know, there was no hope in trying to run. Oddly, she couldn’t quite focus on their faces, couldn’t help the quick glance around her, noticing for the first time the two strange vans parked on her street, wishing that one of her neighbours would appear right now, on their way to work early or going out to walk their dog, because then at least someone would see her, someone would know, she wouldn’t just disappear… There was no longer a message cached for Uncle Jack or her Mom; there would be no sign, nothing to show she hadn’t just walked away, although sooner or later they would look; they would miss her and start searching…

Her heart was beating much too fast, her mouth and tongue were dry; she could hardly hear what the op on her left was saying to her. But she heard her self answering anyway, “Yes, I am Lateisha Marley O’Donahue, and I live here. Why? What is going on; I mean, is there a problem? Maybe you can explain why the door to my house is open?” She felt angry, and with a sudden flash of coming back to herself, she looked him in the eyes. She saw the subcutaneous look of someone who had locked his jaw against anything inside; a mask against himself that had now been turned on her with opaque blue eyes and a scarred nose. They both closed their gloved hands onto her arms; never had she noticed so keenly the strangeness of someone else’s touch. She didn’t have to think about it---at once from deep inside her, louder than any sound she had imagined she could make, she screamed. But it was too late; they were ready for that. The cloth one of them thrust on her face made her gag, suddenly nauseous, and gasp for air.

When she got home Leetzia decided it was time to get back in contact with the underground.

Gideon, I’ve been such an idiot; of all the people to breakdown to—why would I choose Derek?

Sharing? Just as I wanted to share with you, is that wrong?

Obviously, no security briefing was ever gonna stick with this guy, although, sadly, I was about as much of a liability as him right now. “I’m glad you don’t think so, but our friends in the underground definitely would think so. It’s not like Derek would track them down and hurt them; he’d be amazed if he found them, but he’d probably start working for them as a security guard or something—he’s like that; when he’s on your side, he’s on your side totally. It’s winning him over that’s hard. He’s paranoid—probably smokes too much.

“Paranoid?” queried Gideon. “Meaning…frightened?”

“Not quite.” She pulled out one of her classic Mad magazines from the box under the bed, and flipped to an episode of “Spy vs. Spy.” He caught on, and even though he was too far away to be visible, she could feel him grinning.

“Gideon, tell me more about the underground: how long have you known them? Have you met with other humans besides me? And is it safe for you; is there anything I need to know about you to make sure I don’t accidentally hurt you?”

Usually no; however, there are times and places where I am vulnerable. Eric, is the other person I speak with; it is he who arranges further contact, as you know. He is asking me to discuss this matter of vulnerability with you. I am waiting until there is suitable time, such as now? It is important to me to respect your privacy, calm and quiet.

If you had asked if I would be able to understand a conversation without words, I wouldn’t have ever thought so, but I felt I was reading Gideon with no problem at all. “Gideon, please, say whatever you want to say; I don’t mind if you interrupt me; but…not at work too much, or around my family, or when I’m playing tunes, or if I am talking to someone else unless you need too; o.k.? (oohh, actually that doesn’t leave a lot of other times, besides sleeping, eating, and being in the bathroom— those aren’t good times either.) Now’s good, what’s happening?”

It's midnight by the hands of our hearts... What was the dream we came for? Where shall we meet? Through the doorway of shadows past the alley of seems under the cedar trees of the keeper of dreams, I'm waiting with my hands in my jeans, for your kiss on my forehead, standing at the corner of forever and taboo... waiting to see you, under the sign that says Midnight Lost and Found