t’s nine-thirty, Jeff. Shouldn’t we be looking for somewhere to stay the night?”
   Exhaustion had caught up with Amanda. Throughout the afternoon and evening they had eaten up the miles, trying to stay ahead of the avalanche of government security they feared would overtake and overwhelm them. They swapped drivers at gas stations and kept right on going. Jeff, however, was still in a groove.
   “I guess I like driving through the evening. What’s there to do before ten-thirty in a motel, anyway? — especially when you’re with someone you don’t know very well.”
   She glanced oddly at him, wondering what he was implying.
   “We could watch TV and find out more about what’s going on. And then get some sleep. I’m exhausted.”
   “I know, I know. It is getting late. Let’s keep an eye out for a motel. I’m tired, too. But we wanted to get as far as we could, didn’t we?”
   “Yes, but we have done well — in Illinois, already.”
   Just before 10:00 p.m. they saw a towering neon sign peer out of the darkness to the right of the freeway, and realized they’d found a motel in one of the good, cheap chains that had cable TV.

   “One or two beds?” the motel clerk asked.
   “Oh, two thanks,” Jeff said quickly, to head off the embarrassment he saw coming. Amanda smiled at him through sleepy eyes.
   “Two queens?”
   “Sure.”
   After moving Jeff’s bags into the room, they switched on the cable TV just in time for the eleven o’clock news. After a brief wrap-up of what they had already heard, came the announcement that vice-president Jones had taken over as president, and had, earlier in the evening, given an address to the nation about the ‘tragic and dangerous situation’ the country had been plunged into. They replayed the speech:
   “Dear fellow Americans. I address you tonight with a heavy heart, and not really knowing quite where to begin, in all the confusion that surrounds the tragedy that has befallen us. The president, whom I’ve worked with so closely these last few years, is dead, along with many other friends and colleagues from Congress. So many very well known people have been slain in this barbaric act of terrorism, that I am sure many of you will have known some of them personally, and nearly all of you will know a lot about what they have done for America in their lives of service to the nation. I’m sure all of you share the sorrow I feel. Other members of Congress are in a critical condition in hospitals throughout the area, and I know that, along with me, you are all praying for their speedy recovery.
   “The moral decay and violence in our society, and in the world, has to end somewhere, sometime, and if a tragedy of these proportions cannot propel us into doing something decisive about the terrorism that has so often held us to ransom, then what hope is there for us? I am determined to act decisively to rid America of those who would perpetrate crimes like this, and make our nation a safe, secure, law-abiding place, where children can be raised in a wholesome environment, and where we can all live free from the threat of this kind of tragedy being repeated.
   “With so many of our leaders and law makers dead, and the perpetrators of the crime as yet not apprehended, a dangerous state of national emergency exists. The time will come when we can hold elections to replace our lost Congress, and return to the democratic rule we all treasure. For the time being, though, steps need to be taken to avert the collapse of our nation, and keep it functioning as smoothly as possible. Consequently, I have declared a state of martial law under the War Powers Act, and am working with our military leaders to bring the situation under control. The country has not been plunged into anarchy. I want to reassure you that everything humanly possible will be done to ensure the safety and security of all law-abiding Americans. Please stay calm. Keep going to work, but for the time being it would be most helpful if you could avoid any unnecessary travel. Thank you, good night, and may God bless America in this time of its greatest need.”
   “So what do you think of that?” asked Jeff.
   “Much as you predicted. Pretty ominous really. He’s declared martial law, so there goes our democracy! And still blaming it on terrorism, although he didn’t mention Muslims as such. His determination to act decisively to ‘rid America’ of the sort of people who perpetrate these kinds of crimes is the most alarming part. As you said earlier, it could be an excuse to indulge in cultural cleansing.”
   “He probably didn’t want to mention the Muslims in the same breath as talking about cleansing the nation of security risks — not at this early stage, anyway.”
   “And martial law was always in the cards.”
   “Yes, but it sounded like he was preparing us for a fair stint of it.”
   “I’m sure you’re right. This is the secret government emerging from the shadows to take over. But oh well. . . It’s been a very stressful day. I still don’t know what to make of the bombing. I don’t think the enormity of it has really hit me yet. We’ll just have to wait and see what tomorrow brings . . . ” She yawned. “I thought I might take a shower. You don’t have a spare pair of pajamas, by any chance?”
   “Of course, you don’t have anything. I’ll lend you my pair — they’re clean. I can wear a pair of boxers and a tee shirt.”
   “Oh thanks. I’m really sorry to be imposing like this.”
   “Not a problem. Feel free to use my toothbrush, too. I’ll get it for you.”
   “Actually a toothbrush is one thing I do have — I carry one in my handbag, so I can brush my teeth after eating out . . . Why are you looking at me like that? I guess I sound a little over fastidious?”
   “Oh no! I like to keep my teeth clean, too. Especially at night. When I was ten, this guy I met by the pool at our apartment building told me a story about how he used to be a CIA agent, and that sometimes he used to crawl down air-conditioning ducts to get into an office he was spying on. He said he once even had to spend the night in an air-conditioning duct. I said that must have been awful, but he said no, it wasn’t too bad. The worst thing about it, he said, was not being able to brush his teeth before going to sleep. Being a child, I, of course, thought that was the most ridiculous thing I had ever heard. But you know, later, when I grew up, I could relate to what he said.”
   “Yeah, I can relate to it, too. Kids! It’s amazing how much we change when we grow up.”

   Before getting into bed, Jeff went and pushed the window wide open.
   “What are you doing?”
   “Oh? I always sleep with the window open. But I guess I should have checked with you first. You don’t want it open?”
   “Well, not so far, anyway. It’s noisy, and I don’t know if it’s safe.”
   “I would have thought a Pagan, like you, would have been all into fresh air — worshiping nature . . .”
   “Well, yes, we do celebrate nature — ‘worship’ is hardly the word. But we don’t celebrate noise or crime. And I think you know that. You’re just giving me a hard time.”
   “No I’m not. I really did think you’d be into fresh air. But still, I don’t mind closing the window most of the way. The only thing is if it gets stuffy later on we might need to open it a tad wider.”
   “OK. That sounds good. How about just leaving it six inches open?”
   “Sure. That’s a good compromise.”
   “Goodnight.”
   “Goodnight.”

   About half an hour later Amanda whispered, “Are you awake?”
   “Yes. Why?”
   “I can’t sleep.”
   “Are my pajamas uncomfortable?”
   “Oh no, they’re fine. It’s just my mind is racing, thinking of everything that’s happened today.”
   “What in particular?”
   “Well, you know. About all those people who died. Whether we are going to get caught tomorrow. What we are going to do. You would be better off without me. It’s me they’ll be after, but if you’re with me, they might get you for aiding and abetting or conspiracy or something.”
   “But you haven’t done anything.”
   “They don’t know that. And they might not want to know.”
   “Well, if we are stopped at a roadblock and you get into trouble, I could just say I gave you a lift.”
   “I was thumbing a ride?”
   “Yeah, I’ll disown you!”
   “Hah! Might work. Except they’d probably already know we’re together from the search at the first roadblock . . . And another thing: I really ought to get word to my staff in D.C. and L.A. They’re going to be thinking I’m dead. Now I’m this far away, I should phone them and tell them I’m safe.”
   “Of course. I didn’t think about them. But you members of Congress do have staff. I kind of think of you as one man bands — mavericks.”
   “No — far from it. And I’m very close to my staff, especially Jason, my chief aide, and my secretary, Berni. Somehow everything that’s happened just blocked them out of my mind, but now I feel really aweful about not phoning them as soon as I could’ve.”
   “You could do it tomorrow morning, before we leave.”
   “Yes, I will. I will.”
   “And are your parents in L.A.?”
   “Oh, they died in a car accident when I was only five. I was brought up by my grandparents after that. They were great, and very supportive of me — let me know I could do anything I wanted to — but they’ve passed on now, too. My Grandma just last year, so she lived to see me elected to Congress. She was very politically progressive herself. She was so proud of me.”
   “I’m so sorry. But it sounds you had the best grandparents.”
   “Really wonderful.” Amanda’s eyes were a little misty.
   There were a few moments of silence.
   “I was going to ask you some more about your Paganism.”
   “What do you want to know?”
   “I guess, how you came to be a Pagan.”
   “Oh, it’s very common these days. Paganism is the fastest growing religion. There are zillions of Pagan sites on the web, for instance. But I guess you want to know how I personally became one?”
   “Yep.”
   “Well, it started in high school. I always hated the stupid, vengeful, violent, male ‘God’ that Christianity kept trying to ram down my throat. And then, in History class, I learned a little about Celts and Druids with their gentle, peace-loving earth goddesses, and their delightful Pagan rituals. It really spoke to my soul. After that I read every book I could find about it, especially about the Wiccan tradition. I guess you could say I’m a witch.”
   “I was thinking that. . . But go on.”
   “Well, back before Christianity invaded Western Europe, the Pagan culture there was quite gentle and equal — women were usually the priests and healers, and men organized the more mundane things they were interested in, such as politics and wars. Witches were the wise women people looked up to for guidance and healing. But, through the centuries, Christianity fought a bitter struggle to replace this civilized culture with its fascist, male chauvinist, brutal domination of society. Millions of women were burned alive by the Inquisition just for being witches — wise women.”
   “Yes, I’ve read something about the witch craze. I’ve read a number of books that dispel the idea that we need to fear God and establish the idea of a God of love., and one of them had a chapter on the witch craze. The way women were put down was appalling, and it was Protestant churches, just as much as the Catholic, that did it.”
   “I’m amused by the concept of a God of love. I think it’s an oxymoron. A loving goddess, for sure, but all the gods I’ve heard of or read about have been hateful.”
   “Don’t you think Jesus was the ‘prince of peace’?”
   “Some of the things he said certainly are wonderful, and others have probably been put into his mouth by the Bible writers. So perhaps he was a prince of peace — the one-and-only prince of peace — the exception that proves the rule.”
   “It sounds like you’re a raging feminist.”
   “Sounds like you are a typical male chauvinist.”
   “I guess I have been . . . But the last couple of years I’ve been finding my feminine side, and seeing God in a different way — as something inside every person, connecting them to everyone and everything in the universe, not someone out there telling us what to do.”
   “You do seem to have shifted a long way from the fundamentalism you grew up with. What caused that?”
   “Well, in one respect, I think I’ve always had an open mind about things. I’ve always liked discussing ideas with people who had a different religious outlook. This got me into a lot of trouble as a teenager until I learned who I could and couldn’t talk to about things controversial. Then it seemed to my parents that I’d ‘sown my intellectual wild oats’ and settled down, but I was really just keeping the peace in my family and church.”
   “Ah ha.”
   “I’ve always been searching for the truth about religion, though, and I knew it wasn’t to be found in the fundamentalism I grew up with. It was so hateful. Then, a couple of years ago, I read those books, whose subject you just took exception to, and saw there was a totally different way to approach Christianity: as inner spirituality rather than outer moralizing — probably much like Paganism.”
   “Yes, inner spirituality certainly is an important part of Paganism.”
   “In fact, the book with the chapter on the witch craze talked about Paganism in a very favorable light — of how, as you said, it had been the original culture of Western Europe, which was gentle and fair, and how wrong it was that Christianity persecuted it so relentlessly. Still, it’s a controversial book. Everyone else in my family would hate it, and think it was the work of the devil.”
   “Sounds good, actually. If it has the power to turn even one fundamentalist into a seeker of spirituality, it must be on the side of the goddess.”
   “Well, as I said, I was searching — I don’t think too many fundamentalists would be open to those sorts of books. You need to know they have closed minds.”
   “I already had an idea that might be the case.” She smiled.
   “Yeah, I guess just about everybody knows that these days, except for the fundamentalists themselves.”
   “So, knowing all this, how could you go on teaching at a Christian school?”
   “Well, for a while I tried to encourage a curiosity for the truth in my students — until the parents started complaining! Then I realized I just couldn’t go on with it. I took a year off, and traveled around the country. And in Europe and India. I was supposed to be going back this fall. But I know now I just can’t.”
   “So, were you at that hot spring in Oregon you mentioned when you heard of the plan to blow up Congress?”
   “Yep. Camping at the hot spring in the forest, conspiring with a bunch of ex hippies on how to save the country. I know that sounds unlikely.”
   “Oh no, I believe you. You were saying that’s where you’re headed back to now.”
   “True. Well, for some time, I’d been traveling around the hot springs of the Northwest, discussing philosophy and politics with all sorts of interesting types. Many had dropped out of what they saw as our totally crazy, corrupt way of life, and spent most of the year communing with nature and preparing for the breakdown of materialistic society when the oil runs out.”
   “Hah. I know a few people like that, too.”
   “What I’ve found is that there’s a vital counter culture in and around the hot springs of America. And I believe that in it we might just find the seeds of a new free and fair society.”
   “You’re such a starry-eyed dreamer . . . But I like that.”