Latter Days/Lonely Nights

by Willownut

Copyright © 2007

Vcdanab@aol.com

Rating: PG-13
Uber-Setting: 1980's
Disclaimer: Blah, blah, blah. Many characters are Joss Whedon's. Yada, yada, yada. No harm intended with the use of these revered characters. Peas and carrots, peas and carrots. Italics are thoughts. For those who could excommunicate me or send me unwanted literature, I wish you no ill will. My thanks to LVK for the use of her song lyrics, you have my deep respect, and I would have asked first if I knew where you were.
Distribution: The Mystic Muse: http://mysticmuse.net
Through the Looking-glass
Feedback: Yes please.
Spoilers: None
Author's Notes: Think 1984 (not the book, the Era).
Webhost's Note: Special thanks goes to Chris Cook of Through the Looking Glass, MKF and Artemis for the graphics, wallpapers and source coding. Thanks, Chris!
Pairing: Willow/Tara

Part 1     Part 2    Part 3     Part 4    Part 5      Part 6      Part 7    Part 8      Part 9    Part 10     Part 11     Part 12    Part 13     Part 14    Part 15      Part 16    Part 17      Part 18    Part 19     Part 20    Part 21     Part 22    Part 23     Part 24    Part 25     Part 26    Part 27     Part 28    Part 29    

(Day 1 – Thursday, November 8, 1984)

The building seemed enormous; actually, at this moment, just the door in front of her appeared too big. She thought to herself: It's like one of the Alice in Wonderland moments where things just feel distorted somehow – like you're looking in a mirror that makes things closer than they appear – only – not. This was an "in your face" large door. She was nervous; her hands were sweating. Come on girl. Get a grip. It's a regular size door.

Eighteen months was such a long time to be away from home, family, friends, and secure surroundings, like the mall and all the sugary goodness one could buy there. Eighteen months, no mochas, it was just unreal.

The excitement though outweighed her weak moment and drowned out the thoughts of the chocolatey sacrifices yet to come. All roads led to this place, a new beginning like so many others. This was a pilgrimage of the soul.

It felt like only yesterday she'd opened the envelope that had led her to this place.

Amy, her sorority friend, had been so supportive. Her sister was going through the same preparations readying for her own adventure. She let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding, carefully unfolded the flap on the letter, and scanned over the words not really seeing anything until she reached one very small but overwhelming word.

Japan.

Japan.

Another breath exhaled and she read it again.

Kobe, Japan.

Her fingers trembled as she read back from the beginning over the words to the next very important piece of information…November 8.

She was supposed to arrive on November 8th, then there would be two months of language study, and then she was going to fly off to Japan. It was such a little word.

Oh. My. Gosh! She started to panic. There was just so much to do. November was only about three weeks away. That's when she heard the screaming. She was screaming, Amy was screaming, and there they were all screaming. Ok wait. Breathe. I knew I might go somewhere far. I can do this. But, what if I can't? All of her insecurities were bubbling up. She felt her knees weaken and buckle. Next, she found herself on the floor. The moment blurred as the lack of oxygen started to take its toll.

I'm back she thought to herself as she tried to regulate her breathing…again. She'd been doing that quite a bit since she got that letter. She was here now, feeling the same sense of knee weakness, but this time falling was just not an option. That would attract attention of the bad kind. Putting on her best resolve face, she reached forward to grab hold of the door to enter. She was humbled at this grand place-of-learning. This was a stepping-stone, and important stop along the way.

TO JAPAN!

Okay. Breathe – In. Out. There will be no more screaming in your head, Rosenberg.

I'm going in.

She got to the counter after waiting in line for a time and collected her welcome kit:

Room assignment, check;
Little white handbook, check;
Nametag, check.

Hey, look at that. She looked down at the small black and white nameplate in her hand. She recognized her name, but everything else, not so much. It's in Japanese. As she turned to leave the grand entry area, she heard singing:

"Line upon Line…
Each hour…wisdom"

It was the sweetest sound, a voice among the throng of murmuring voices. She caught just bits of the song, but it was enough to grab her attention.

It was only a few stanzas, pieces of the melody but it was as if someone had reached out and plucked a harp string in her heart. She could barely see through the crowd but there seemed to be great joy radiating from the girl.

"…patient, we shall see…
fit together in harmony…"

Geepers, Look at her. She is so graceful. It looks like she's just floating. She took stock of her surroundings. No one else seemed to notice the blonde. I swear I can feel her. And what's that song? It seems…so…familiar. Okay. I am so not gonna stalk some stranger. She continued walking in the direction behind the other girl though. It's just a coincidence.

I wonder where she's going. Wouldn't that be weird if she was going to Japan too? She could be my companion. That would be cool. Right, like that would happen. "Pffft," the sound escaped her lips before she could stop it. She smirked and laughed at herself.

She continued walking, following the little map in her hand. She lost sight of the girl for a time, so she dismissed her earlier musings and continued toward her future dorm room.

"It's just two months for heaven's sake." She whispered to the walls. Like of all the people here she would be paired up with me and I'd pick her out of a crowd of two hundred people sight (well face) unseen.

Riiiiight. She rolled her eyes at herself again.

She climbed up the stairs and headed down the hall, taking notice of the couches and bathroom areas in the middle of all the line of rooms. Laundry room was downstairs; some vending machines sat in the corner. After traveling down the wrong hallway, she finally located her dorm room at the end of the hall. Okay, make a note; don't turn left again when you come up the stairs, right and then straight. I've gotta remember that.

'Choose the right…' the children's church song filled her mind: Oh, the irony.

As she passed by the doors along the hallway, it was clear where others were headed.

There were signs on all the doors to welcome the new arrivals – Hermana Bryce. Hermana Sanders – red, green, and white stripes – colors of Mexico. Sorella Johnson, Sorella Campbell – more red, green and white stripes. Sorella, huh. Like Cruella? I'm thinking…not. Some of the words she didn't even want to try to pronounce. Schwester – that must be German. This is so cool. Oh, now that's just funny – look at that one: Schwester Sanchez and Schwester Wall. Maybe I'm warped, but I just think that's funny.

Oh, just red and white: Sister Jones and Sister Couch. They're going to Canada. C. eh. N. eh. D. eh. She laughed to herself as she remembered the old joke of how Canadians came up with the name for their country by pulling out the three letters from a hat.

Those headed to Japan were obvious – red round circle cutouts against a white background each with names on them. She read the names silently until she finally came to the end of the hall: Smith Shimai, Kitchen Shimai, and Rosenberg Shimai.

Oh, here it is, yeah me!

And "Willow" that's gonna sound like the Jetson's dog, Astro, or Scooby Doo or something. She chuckled at the thought sounding it out in her head: "Ri- roh" or would it be Reeroh? Rie rowt roh. A giggle escaped.

Gosh, stop it Rosenberg, as she tried out the sound of formality of her last name in her head. You're supposed to be all grown up, why can't you be a grown up? You're supposed to be all serious and spiritual here. They'll probably call me Sister Little Tree or Red or something – I should have at least looked that up.

She opened the door, and walked in taking a quick look around. There were four bunks in the room; it was smaller than she thought it was going to be. Two of the bunks were already claimed. There were two other girls in the room chit chatting – a tall brunette with wild but sculptured hair-sprayed hair and a frumpy blonde in flats and a skirt and plain blouse. She gave a little waive shy smile and a nod: "Hey."

"Hi," 'Frumpy' said. "I'm Smith Shimai and this is Kitchen Shimai.

"Hey" she repeated.

"So (a pause) where are you from?" Smith Shimai continued.

"California" Yup, Sunnydale, SunnyD that's where I'm from, never been anywhere else," she cursed herself for babbling already. Shut up and smile.

The shorter girl held her hand out in greeting which Willow accepted. Kitchen stood behind and gracefully nodded her own hello; she smiled in sympathy or possibly amusement.

"Where are you going?" Oh, so many questions. "Frumpy" is a Chatty Cathy. Maybe Kitchen is a mute. Okay stop that! Happy thoughts, Will. Happy, loving Godly, thoughts.

"Kobe" she answered nodding back to question theirs. The internal babble was starting to distract her so she tried to focus a bit more.

Kitchen was going to Kobe too and Smith was headed for Sapporo. Sapporo was really cold and Willow counted her blessings that her snow would only be seasonal if she was stationed near Kobe.

She learned Smith Shimai was from California as well, Sacramento or Oakland or somewhere north of Sunnydale. She just couldn't seem to pay too much attention being all excited, nervous and overwhelmed from it all.

Kitchen Shimai was from Utah. She found it odd that she remembered so many more details about the taller girl, but her demeanor seemed so much more…"pleasant"…than the blonde's.

"Well we have about a half an hour before we have to leave, so we should probably get settled, figure out where we're supposed to go, and get our bearings." OKAY…I've been here like five minutes and this chick is starting to bug me. This is like my first test, right? She asked internally. Get along with "Frumpy?"

"Okay" takes charge girl she silently added.

"That's fine" I'm all with the finey McFine fine. I can be 'follow along and don't make waves' girl. "I'll be ready in a few."

Okay Will, get with the program. I need to stop being unkind: no "Frumpy," "Sister Frumpy" or "Chatty Cathy-speak in your head. Willow berated herself for her negative feelings towards Sister Smith, but she couldn't seem to help herself. I have to focus here. Help me focus. These are servants of God. They deserve my respect; I have to earn their respect and I can't do it if I'm all "evil girl, Dark Willow."

She went to the far right bunk in the back, threw her huge suitcase on the bed, and looked around to place getting situated. There was a tiny desk for her books, which she pulled out of her bag and placed on the top. In the drawer, she placed her multicolored highlighters and pencils, and started unpacking her smooshed clothing. She hung up her conservative looking skirts and blouses. That's what the letter said, that's what she bought: gray, black, and dark colored coordinates.

As she looked at the clothing hanging in the small closet, she took a moment to reflect – they represented how much she'd changed. Two years ago, she didn't even own a dress or skirt. Then she joined The Church and that changed too.

Although these new outfits certainly didn't fit her former wardrobe, she pretty much only had a few skirts and dresses she alternated over the month of Sunday services and other weekend or special events she attended. She tended toward the brighter colors, which were fine at social gatherings, like the Stake Dances for the young adults or Sunday evening devotionals.

Dances were so not her thing, but The Church had them and it was important that the young adults attended so they could mingle with other church members. She figured out early on that these functions promoted interfaith dating. Faith and family were the two most important aspects of her new life, and she intended to embrace the teachings and join the faithful – it just was too bad that dances were the way the Church leaders thought they should do that.

She went to a few of them trying to put off the inevitable awkwardness of never being asked to dance. If she did dance then it was all with the getting hot and uncomfortable in heat of the gym. It was just like high school dances; only the boys seemed more polite when they ignored her. Good thing comfy shoes were okay. She figured the lack of attention meant Heavenly Father had another task for her to do, so she prepared – for this.

As she was finishing up with the whole organization thing, Smith Shimai spoke up announcing their schedule: Orientation, dinner, language class, a quick branch meeting, personal study, and then bedtime. Then tomorrow starting six am, gym, breakfast, language, lunch, language, dinner, language, personal study and bed. Rinse and repeat for fifty-nine more days.

Kitchen Shimai finally spoke: "I guess we're really doing this." It was a simple statement of fact, but Willow wondered if behind the perfect peaceful exterior she was just as nervous too.

They headed out to the main hall for orientation. Willow glanced around at the wall of dark pants, white shirts, and ties. She chuckled at how much easier the wardrobe was for the guys. Three or five white shirts, two or three pair of pants and four ties and you're set for the week – as long as you don't sweat too much – a bunch of black socks, and a good sturdy pair of shoes.

They didn't have to worry about runs in nylons, tights for cold weather or difficulty finding the perfect coat to wear to worry about. That had been a huge challenge. It wasn't cold enough in Sunnydale, California to find an all- purpose coat for snow – especially in such a short time. All she had was mom's ugly coat. And, did it go with those conservative coordinates? Heck no. It was brown. At least it looked ok with her flaming red hair.

The three walked outside, across the concrete walkway back over toward the main hall where the large meeting rooms were located. People from all over the world gathered here in preparation for their assignments. Young boys were nineteen years old and the girls had to be at least twenty-one. As they walked, Willow thought back to her first day in high school. It was a lot like this. She had hated high school. Well, not the school part, mostly the people part. She sighed and continued walking in silence. This was not like high school, though; these kids had purpose.

Whoa – deja vu. Willow shook her head and shuttered. That's just weird. She took a deep breath and turned around feeling as if she had just done the same thing not too long before. The moment seemed so familiar. Willow thought. She heard. Yeah. It was almost in a whisper but she definitely heard it: that song again. She searched among the strangers toward the voice.

"Line upon line…"

That's when she saw her. Green eyes met sparkling blue. The electricity in the air was palpable. She felt as though her heart fell out of her shoes.

Then there it was the panic.

Holy cow, why now?

Part 2
Orientation

They say when you go to the MTC that it is the most spiritual place on earth, but it is also a place with the greatest temptations. For her if was at that moment her worlds collided. The old faced off with the new. Her past hurled back at her like a hurricane force wind; smacked her right in the face and sucked her breath away all at the same time.

Whoa.

Stop it. Don't even think it.

The girls settled in their seats for orientation. She was close enough to the blonde to occasionally glance over and watch her as she listened. Willow was a little too distracted to listen intently to the speakers, but she caught bits of pieces of the speaker's words.

"Follow the rules, do your studies, say your prayers and God will bless you. Stay with your companion. Go to bed on time. "P-day" is the day you may prepare for the week. You get four hours off to do your laundry, attend the temple, write letters to family, and go to the mall or whatever before you will need to be back to your scheduled classes. In your letters and your journal, keep your heart open and bear witness to the truth and share your testimony."

Each testimonial was the same. Follow the rules. They will help you. Be disciplined. What you learn here and on your missions will set the course of the rest of your life.

Ok, this is all in the little white handbook.

As she caught herself glancing over toward the blonde again who sat down the row from them, her mind traveled to her friends back home, her preparation for her mission.

Before joining the Mormon Church a year earlier, Willow had struggled with loneliness and desperation. As a Jewish, and then born again Christian, she struggled with her feelings toward other girls knowing that it was wrong to have those thoughts. At least that was what she had been taught to believe. Those feelings were of the devil. They were wrong. She was cursed. And she truly believed there had to be a way to fix it.

The Mormon faith had given her a new way to look at her orientation issues. It would still be hard to rise above, but it gave her some context for why she felt the way she did. Instead of her sexual preference being a curse, it had been her choice.

The ideology was new and different for her. The Latter Day Saints believed in a pre-earthly existence where as spirit children of God, each person made certain choices before coming to earth. Family, friends, and life situations were part of a grand plan, which she participated in selecting. People she knew there could become family, friends, or associates here. Her choices would lead her to find her best possible spiritual growth during her time on earth.

Being gay was something she could overcome. Those were the teachings she clung to that helped her through each day. The last year, well year and a half actually, had changed her so radically from whom she was to who she thought she might become.

Suddenly the meeting was breaking up. Hundreds of men and women joined in song. Then there was a rush of people toward the doors. As the mass of blue and black suits moved around her, Willow lost track of the Blonde. She fought the urge to stand on a chair and look for her.

Kitchen Shimai and Smith Shimai nodded toward the doors with a quick and silent suggestion to "move" or be trampled. Willow followed behind the other two. Obliviously, it didn't do any good to stand in the way of progress and clearly, these lads knew where to go. Follow the crowd.

When they finally filed out of the meeting room into the hall, the crowd had thinned and Willow took her bearings.

"Hey. There are some sisters!" Smith Shimai suddenly spoke. She took the lead and headed in their direction.

Grossly outnumbered, by like twenty to one, it was a natural instinct to look for other Sisters. They had a special bond. Willow didn't really see where they were going, just followed the other girls. When they stopped, Willow stepped to the side to meet the group to whom Smith and Kitchen had directed her.

Standing in front of her was this gorgeous girl. The light seemed to sparkle right out of her eyes. The contours of her face were barely noticeable against her essence like a spiritual presence. Willow felt like she was looking past all the girl's features directly into her soul.

The feelings surrounding this moment were profound. They alone were inside a bubble charged with the very essence of God. It was powerful. It was an awakening. In the midst of all this unfamiliar and uncertainty Willow suddenly felt a profound sense of peace. She felt like she'd come home.

Glancing down at her nametag Willow saw the familiar characters scrawled in the black and white print: Maclay Shimai.

Willow mustered every ounce of courage, took a small breath, exhaled, and asked, "Which Mission?"

"Kobe."

Her voice was like a song, rich and melodic.

"Me too," Oh gosh, did I just squeak? That's so not good.

Maclay Shimai gently lifted her arm in gesture and rolled her wrist toward two other sisters standing nearby. "These are my companions: Conley Shimai she's going to Kobe and Colson Shimai she's going to Tokyo."

"Huh, It's weird they put us in groups of three instead of twosies, not that I mind my companions, they're nice and everything, although I don't really know that much about them since I just met them and all, but it's just weird cause there's usually just twos. That's the way it's just done, isn't it? I mean, not that I'm doubting that it's not the right thing, it's just different I guess, and oh, I'm babbling aren't I and I do that sometimes when I 'm nervous, not that I'm nervous of you, cause why would I be nervous, you seem so nice and I'll just stop now." She trailed off.

Taking a breath Willow looked up at the amused face before her. Oh, that's so not good. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Conley Shimai came in closer to the two who had seemed to be deep in conversation, "Heywe'reheadedtothecafeteriawannajoinusfordinner?"

"I'm sorry, what?" Willow looked puzzled toward the brunette.

"Cafeteria. Dinner." Maclay explained. "She's from Ohio. Apparently we hear too slowly." She tweaked a conspiratorial grin, grabbed the stunned redhead by the arm, who, in return, nodded toward her companions Smith and Kitchen to come along with them and they headed down the hall toward the dining area.

There was a long line heading out down the hall so the six girls stood together getting to know one another. They tried not to be all clumpy, since there were six of them and the line seemed more snaky then bunchy.

As they waited their turn in line, which was finally moving slowly thank goodness, the girls ended up in groups of two standing together. It seemed each of the pairs were natural fits.

Willow was nervous. She never thought she was any good at small talk. She dreaded the infamous Willow babble and always worried she would say the wrong thing. It was easier to be silent than take the risk.

Just standing there was a little unsettling too and Willow quietly wished she could at least sit and play with her food and look around. She didn't have the luxury of pockets in the skirt she was wearing. That was what she normally would do. Hide her sweaty palms. She could also conceal her nervous fidgets. However, there she was, in line, with this young woman. She took a breath and looked up. Maclay draped her hair a little over her eyes, but she was looking at Willow.

Maclay seemed equally uneasy, although in a different way. Willow had noticed that her movements were graceful yet exaggerated a little, as if she wanted the space around her a bit larger. Willow recognized it for what it was; a way to keep her distance, plus, maybe it was a little excitement. She seemed now to be less animated, more settled.

They stood in comfortable silence for a while and finally made it to the food. After loading up their trays they made their way to one of the long tables so the six could all sit together to enjoy their first of many meals together.

Some of the braver girls grabbed chopsticks and were getting used to the feel of them. Willow, being the overachiever, naturally picked the chopsticks but realized too late that her vegetable selection was going to be problematic: peas and carrots.

Willow had heard that sister missionaries often gained weight in the Missionary Training Center, but now, she was wondering if she'd be able to ever eat again.

"How am I supposed to cut this?" She poked at a slice of her roast beef.

"You have to pick it up and chew it while you hold it." Maclay explained.

"What about this?" she pointed with her chopsticks toward the lump of potatoes and gravy on her plate.

"Scoop and shovel."

"Okay, now you're just making fun of me."

"No, I'm not. Here, let me show you." Maclay took Willow's chopsticks from her. "First, think of the chopsticks like an extension of your first and second fingers. If all you had to eat with were your hands and those were your only clean fingers, what would you do with the potatoes?"

"Scoop and suck on my fingers." Willow felt a bit sheepish, but tried to hide it. "The veggies are too hard. It's like that dumb game with the metal ball, the two rods attached at the one end, and you have to separate the rods and move the ball up toward you and keep the ball from falling. My peas are running away from me and the carrots, they mock me."

She's smiling at me.

"What about the beef? I don't think the beef is mocking you. I think it likes you and wants you to enjoy it. It's just waiting for you to figure out how."

Oh God, I mean gosh.

"Okay Miss Smarty pants. Show me."

Maclay easily showed Willow the secret of holding the chopsticks. "Now, you'll have to practice to get really good at it, and it's gonna take a little time, so give yourself a break, okay? I don't think the carrots are mocking you. They're square so start with them. You might get a little thumb cramp after a while, but you'll get good at it. I promise."

"I can't just stab them?"

"No, then the peas would be upset."

"I wish I could pick up my plate."

"When we get there, you'll be able to, but for now, just practice and no cheating. There will be no poking the meat, no licking the potatoes and no sucking up the peas.

"How do you know all this stuff, you're not really Japanese are you? 'Cause you don't look Japanese. I don't think Japanese people have beautiful blue eyes like yours." Eeep, don't say that. Oops, too late.

"My brother Donnie had a friend who served his mission in Japan. He was in a RM group after he got home and when I got my calling, they introduced me to some of the people there. One of the girls kinda took me under her wing and told me what to expect and how to eat and stuff."

"First, cool. Second, RM?" Willow was still struggling with her peas chasing them around her plate with the chopsticks.

"Return Missionaries." Maclay quietly watched as Willow struggled with her peas. "You really haven't been a member long. When did you convert?"

"It was just a year ago. I knew some Mormons in High School and when I reconnected after not seeing them for a few years, I felt at the time that it was an answer to prayer. I had been seeking direction and well, it's a long story. I don't want to bore you."

"No, it's okay, I like these stories, It's why we're here, right? To find other people who are searching for something and teach them the truths of the Gospel."

"Yeah, I guess that's right, but right now, I want to hear about you since, well, I'm kinda hungry and it's gonna take me awhile to coax this food in my mouth. Why don't you tell me what made you decide to come here, while I attempt to apply your scoop and shovel method with my potatoes."

The girls continued their banter for the next half hour joking, laughing, and enjoying each other's company.

"You know," Maclay started again after a brief pause between them, "today is the last day we can speak English."

"What?"

"Yeah, that's what I heard. We have to start using the stuff we learn right away."

Willow furrowed her brow, "But what if we don't know the words and stuff?"

"I guess we'll have to make do," Maclay replied sweetly.

Willow's mind raced ahead, and she wished she had had more time, studied more, and picked up one of those language tapes. There just hadn't been time. She had to go to the temple, get supplies and outfits. She grew quiet as she remembered all the torturous hours of shopping. Then that last week with all the emotional goodbyes: the functions, the farewell service for her, and the open house after where her friends and family came for one last night to say so long. Now she wasn't going to be able to talk to anyone until she learned how to speak Japanese.

A look of horror must have crossed her face as she glanced around at her companions to her left, across the table to the two girls with the blonde, and then right at Maclay. When she gazed into the last pair of eyes, she knew her thoughts had betrayed her fears.

I won't be able to talk to her!

Maclay seemed to read her. Maybe she'd figured out the solution already. She smiled again at Willow.

"We only have to use the words we know." The rest we'll make do with, or there's the tried and true method of pointing and pantomime or "other" forms of language."

Did she just wink at me?

The redhead ducked her head in acknowledgment. She'd over-reacted and the blonde had caught her. But it seemed Okay. There's that calm again. Wow.

This is gonna be a long 60 days.

Part 3
Language 101

Next stop for the gang was the first of many scheduled language classes. The sisters and elders filed in selecting seats, which were situated in a semi circle. Each desk had a large textbook, Japanese Hymnal and English/Japanese Dictionary placed on it. At the front of the small room, the chalkboard had the words: "Elder Jones" neatly printed on it. Shortly after the group settled in a young man, probably mid twenties arrived and stood in front of the young men and women.

Konbanwa. Yoroshikuonegaishimasuwatakushinonamaewajonzuchorrodesu.

Oh no, it's just like Conley's speed speak.

Good evening. My name is Elder Jones.

Wait, what? All that was just that? Oh no!

WatakushiwaanatonoNihongosenseidesu

I am your Japanese language teacher.

Hajimeru

Let's begin

Ok that one seemed a little shorter.

Hamm Chorro (looking at an Elder to his left in the circular arch of students) Anatawainotte kudasaimasu ka?

Chorro, that's what the guys are called – that's Elder! Woo hoo!

Elder Hamm, will you lead us in a prayer?

After the short prayer, Jones had everyone opened their books to the first page. Oh good, at least it's in English, and the pictures are cute. I can do this.

"Japanese is a difficult language."

No, don't say that. Willow continued to listen but looked ahead a bit in the textbook.

"I'm not going to lie to you, but if you study hard, apply yourself, and use the things we teach you here with consistency you will be prepared when you leave to serve your Heavenly Father in sharing the gospel with those you meet."

Jones words barely registered as she suddenly fixed her eyes upon the next page she came to.

Hiragana:

Willow found herself staring at the Japanese alphabet and froze. I'm gonna have to learn that? And that's the easy stuff. Oi vey. Focus Willow; don't want to miss anything important.

Jones continued. "Nihongo only has 107 syllables. English has over 2000. Pronunciation is the easy part. You won't run into rules like "I" before "E" except after "C" and neighbor and weigh or different spellings for the same sounding word, like see and sea, made or maid, new, knew and gnu.

"There are different types of Japanese writing: Kanji, Katakana, and Hiragana. There are several thousand Kanji which represent ideas, Katakana is the block lettering which is normally used to write out foreign words, and what you will be learning here is Hiragana."

I'm gonna need some serious self butt kicking to get me through this. I'm already exhausted and I've only been here five minutes.

She looked around the room at the studious faces. Six Elders: Hamm, Stevens, Brooks, and Michaels sat to the right of Smith and Kitchen, to her left, Gardner and Frye. These and the other new group, Maclay's group, were her study buddies. They would sink or swim together, well not really "together" together, but it was gonna be really hard not talking to people if they didn't learn stuff at the same pace.

"AAH EEEE OOOO EH OH" – The sets of companions sat together practicing their newly acquired skills. Willow was amused by the pneumonic memory aids – "mu" looked like a cow; "chi" a cheerleader, "mo" you have to catch mo fish on your hook. Those would be the only ones she really remembered when it was time to test her skills.

While the others were still practicing their writing skills, her mind wandered back to her early thoughts of Scoobie Doo when she'd been called to Japan.

Willow kept looking at the chart for the "B" sound.

Clearly "Willow" was not going to be as hard as Rosenberg. I knew they didn't have any "L"s. But come on "B" there's got to be a "B." I guess Sister Little Tree or Red is what I'll be. Oh, I can look it up now. She thumbed over to the appendix, the glossary, the vocabulary – no red.

Oh, colors, here it is page 551. Apparently, it's not that important. Let's see: weather, shopping – argh don't remind me. Okay, colors: alphabetical would be nice, ok: akai. That's easy I can remember that. Huh, look at that, green is a noun – midori, isn't that like alcohol or something. Blue is just a (dv) like the others. Is that like a descriptive verb? What, they couldn't say adjective. Oh. Oops. Missing, class. Stop it.

"In Japanese there are not vowels and consonants per se there are syllables. The chart is organized for you by sounds and consonants, but there are variations. You will see the soft pronunciation of these syllables is marked by two hash marks that look sort of like right quotes. The little round circle near the symbol is another variant.

"Generally when converting gaijin (foreign) names to Japanese the block lettering is used. If your name ends in a consonant, or you have two consonant sounds together, you would add a soft "u" to your name. Sister Smith, your name will be pronounced "Sumisu" Shimai. Sister Rosenberg, you'll be Rozenbagu Shimai."

Ro zen ba gu. Hey, that's not so bad, but I'm starting to get hungry. At least they can pronounce me.

"Sister Kitchen, your name will be a little more difficult since there really is not "che" sound. I would recommend you introduce yourself as Kichin Shimai rather than Kitsun. Since many of the words that start Kitsu are associated with strength and not considered very feminine attributes. For example, Kitsui means strong or intense, kitsuen is tobacco, kitsume is a fox or vixen. You don't want to start out a conversation introducing yourself as Sister Vixen by accident. It might damage that first impression."

By the end of class, Willow had sort of learned the Hiragana characters and how to sound out the alphabet. But she had to cheat a little to get them. She even tried to sing the hymn with the group in the hallway after language class ended. Naturally, the hymnbook was in Hiragana. She wasn't that great of a singer, but the Bible said make a joyful noise unto the Lord and that's just what she did. Orientation was the last time she would sing in English for quite some time.

The hymn sounded more like a mass mumbles and nonsense-but at least it was pretty. She heard a familiar voice in the group and glanced furtively over toward the other sisters in the crowd at the end of the hall. She saw the smile; she saw the joy in her face while she sang and the gleam in the eyes of her newfound friend. Her heart melted.

Part 4
Pillow Talk

The girls headed back to their respective dorms. They had an hour before lights out to read, study, and get ready for bed. They were all exhausted after the day's events but a little socializing seemed in order. After all, there were 59 more days to go before they would be traveling to their various destinations. Party at Conley's was definitely the right call.

The rules of an LDS missionary are clear: the only time a sister or elder is alone is in the bathroom, the shower or in their dreams. Other than that, it's all companion, all the time. It's always hard when three are "paired" especially for the one who might not agree. In this case, it was unanimous. They would change into their comfy wear and head out. Kitchen, Smith and Rosenberg Shimai went down the hall to their first of many parties in the other sister's room. At least tonight, they didn't know enough Japanese to hinder their conversation.

The girls sat around talking and getting to know one another. They learned more about each other's backgrounds and interests. Again, the group seemed to naturally pair together, Conley and Colson seemed to share similar family backgrounds as did Kitchen and Smith. Colson and Conley discussed their church callings prior to coming to Provo. Kitchen and Smith talked about how cute Elder Jones was as well as their boyfriends back home. Colson and Conley both had worked before coming on their missions and the other two had attended different universities in Utah.

Willow tried to keep up with their conversations, but found she had little interest or connection with the lives of the four others. She felt like she was watching a heated ping-pong match instead of enjoying and participating in fellowship. She started feeling alone. Although she was genuinely amused by the number of times everyone seemed to say "what" whenever Conley spoke. She was currently at fifteen.

She was aware of the silent blonde beside her and had more than once caught her smirking as well. She looked over the Maclay sitting to her right. Maclay smiled shyly and quietly said, "How many did you get so far?"

Willow looked at her in amazement. She wasn't sure if she was really referring to her current "what" count, but it was worth the risk she decided. One word might not be hard to explain if she was off base. "Fifteen?"

Maclay giggled, "I was counting too. I think I m-missed one." She dropped her head a little hiding behind her hair again. "I'm sorry; I guess I'm just not feeling all Chatty Cathy today."

It was Willow's turn to laugh. She uses that term too.

"That's ok; I'm not Miss Chatty Cathy either. In fact, I much prefer watching people in public places than being the life of the party. I'm more comfortable in a library or bookstore than at dances. I'd rather sit out under the stars than go to the beach, and I'm from California. Hello, not everyone goes to the beach every day. I mean, I just look out a window on a sunny day and my freckles get freckles. Oh, I'm exaggerating a little. But do you get it at all?"

Maclay looked intently at her. "Yes. I really do. Hey, you might be able to help me. It seems like you're kind of a scripture geek, oh, um, n-no offence."

"Oh no, I can totally help you, what do you need?" Willow instantly sprang into research mode. This was her favorite pastime. It had been an all-consuming passion after joining The Church. She felt that she had something to prove, mostly to herself. She had studied night and day to keep up with the kids who had grown up doing scripture chases and memorizing passages. There were contests for the seminary students – every day before school when the kids got to high school they attended classes. She'd missed all of that training being a recent addition to the rolls of The Church.

"Well I've been thinking about that parable, the one where there's the l- lights. I-I wanted to read through it, but I can't seem to find the one I was looking for."

Willow thought for a moment, "You mean the one where we are the lights? There are several of those."

Maclay got up, reverently grabbed her scriptures, and brought them over from her desk. She carefully handed them to Willow and looked at her with expectation. Willow began scanning over the pristine pages looking for the passage she thought the blonde wanted. After a few moments, she started feeling frustrated. Come on, come on, I'm good at this. She took a breath.

"What's wrong? Maclay asked quietly.

"I know what I'm looking for but I can't find it in yours. In mine, I have this color coding system to keep things straight when I read them, you know, so I can find them again."

Maclay raised her eyebrow at her new friend. "That's, um, interesting." She trailed off.

Willow felt a little defensive, but she knew her system worked for her. Too many times just like this one, she would be looking for something in another set of scriptures and just couldn't find her way. "Okay, well I bet I can find what you're looking for in just a few minutes if I had mine."

"That's a bet I'll take then. What do I win if you can't?"

"Oh, you're so brave; you know we don't gamble so you've got nothing to lose." Willow retorted back.

"Nice try." Maclay was in full throttle now. "It's not gambling if there's no risk and there's no money involved. And this is just for personal satisfaction so it doesn't count. But if you want to race, then that would be ok with me. I'll even let you win if you want."

"Oh yeah, right. Like, you're probably just tricking me to get me alone in my room. No, that's not what I meant. You probably already know where it is and you're checking me out. No, that didn't come out right either." (Huge cleansing breath) "Oh, let's just go get my books and we'll look together, ok?" I just have to talk don't I? How far into that hole was she gonna let me get. I think she actually knew I'd babble at her. And oh, with the "alone in my room" and checking me out," like she'd do that. Uh oh, she's smiling at me again.

Maclay seemed to sense her panic once more. "It's okay. I think I know what you meant. Yes, let's take a break from the Chatty Cathys and I can see how well you do the research thing. And we can discuss the little flamey candle passage."

"We'll be back in a few okay guys?" Maclay announced. The other girls just nodded at them.

Willow handed Maclay's scriptures back to her. "Well they probably won't even miss us."

A few minutes later the girls were sitting facing each other on the extra bunk with their books set between them. Willow had easily found four references referring to the "light" that Maclay was interested in.

"You know it's interesting." Maclay started after a moment. "Everything that we believe in is based on what we know from these books. Now we're going to another country to explain in a different language all the things we believe in. I can barely do that in English sometimes.

"Some of the words that we know and use every day to describe things don't even exist there. We don't have shared experiences to draw upon. We don't listen to the same music or watch the same TV shows. We can't draw analogies or use references that are uniquely ours as Americans. It's just kind of weird you know if you think about it.

"It's like trying to describe a duck to someone who's never even seen a bird. We depend on language so much and now we won't even have that. Our basic religious attitudes are very different from theirs too.

"I was just sitting there thinking about all of us. We are so diverse. I was watching the six of us and we were not able to communicate that well even with English in common. Colson's accent is easier to get than Conley's speed speak."

"Ha. That's what I called it too. Well, in my head, not to her face, 'cause that would be rude, but yeah." Wow I really like this girl. She continued, "But what does the light passage have to do with that – because I'm starting to get that you think much deeper and made some connection there?"

"Yeah, actually," Maclay laughed a little. "I was."

Willow waited.

Okay, don't interrupt her, let her lead the way. And for goodness sake don't babble. Willow focused her positive energies toward the girl.

Willow looked deep into her eyes willing her to say what was in her heart.

"I was thinking about you." Maclay blushed. She took a cleansing breath.

"I was thinking that you and I seemed like a better match and I wondered why we weren't put together for our time here. I felt like I knew you the minute I saw you, like we were supposed to meet here and be together."

There was a long pause as both the girls took in the statement.

"I feel like you and I have some kind of connection, like together we're brighter." Maclay let the words sink in before she continued. "I sense that we share some other things too, and maybe that's why we're not companions."

Willow's jaw dropped. She closed her mouth, but it fell open again. What is she saying to me? She tried to decipher each word Maclay had just said to her. Is she saying it would not be "safe" for us to be together, that we wouldn't be good study-buddies, that we are being punished – no that's not it.

"I…" Willow was interrupted as the door swung open. Kitchen and Smith returned from their night out. They were laughing.

Naturally, Smith spoke. "Okay ladies, time for bed. Let's get Maclay Shimai home to her companions and get to bed. Six o'clock is going to roll around here really quick and we have to be in gym. What time to you want us to pick you up?" She said now looking directly at Maclay. "Conley and Colsen Shimai said they were gonna sleep in so it's just the four of us."

Noooo! I want to sleep in too. Willow yelled in her head. I want to talk to Maclay. I'm not even tired now; my brain is all awake. I need to figure this out – what did she mean we share some things, what things? I really need to talk to Maclay.

On the way back to Maclay's dorm room, Kitchen and Smith retold what they had missed. They said the party had to break up after Conley starting whistling church songs through her nose. They were still laughing as the returned without the blonde.

As Willow prepared for bed, she went through the remaining items on her internal checklist.

Okay. Make it through today, check.

Say my prayers, check.
Review my vocabulary – coming up.
Write in journal – oops.

Mom says there are three kinds of people: those who talk about people, those who talk about things, and those who talk about ideas. I want to be idea gal. I want to be all with the ideas, all deep thinking and everything. Okay, I'm finally getting tired. I have five minutes before I won't be able to keep my eyes open. Better get to the record keeping now. So why am I procrastinating now? Stop it. Write already.

November 8, 1984 Today is the first day of my mission. I got here around 2:00 after flying in to Utah and taking a shuttle over. I met my companions (doriyo) Smith and Kitchen Shimai (that's Japanese for Sister). Smith is from California same as me, and Kitchen is from Utah somewhere. I was kind of excited and wasn't listening too well – again. I met the other elders and sisters in our branch too. I think we're all going to get along very well. They all seem really nice. My favorite so far is Sister Maclay. She's from Arizona and said she lives near the temple there. She's from a pretty big family, guess she has lots of brothers and sisters – one of which went to Japan as well. She knows a lot about Japan already. Apparently there's like a group of RM's that get together once a month or so and have parties together, chat about their mission memories and eat sukiyaki and stuff. I miss Amy. She was my rock before I came here. I hope she's doing well back home and that she writes a lot while I'm here. I guess mail hour is like an event. I keep seeing people with boxes and stuff and it's really neat how excited everyone gets. I need to get some new shoes here pretty quick or my feet are gonna match my hair. Well I have some stuff to get to before I go to bed, I have 22 new words to master and 5:00 is gonna be here in just a few hours. I'm excited to talk to Sister Maclay some more, she seems really spiritual and I feel like I've known her my whole life. I wish we were companions. But we'd probably stay up to late giggling about the other girls, so maybe it's better.

Okay, that seems pretty tame, nothing about the warm ticklies I got from Maclay and how irritated I was at first with Sister Smith. Tomorrow is a new day and Gym class waits.

Part 5
Let's Get Physical

Beep, beep, beep, beep~!

Willow's hand swung with wild abandon toward the offending clock. Her palm crashed on snooze for the third time. She'd woken up once already with Sister Kitchen looking at her expectantly. Apparently, she was talking about raspberry hats and a cabbage patch or something. Kitchen had a funny look on her face so she didn't want to ask. That was around three-thirty or so, and it was five-twenty eight now. It was definitely time to get out of bed, but Willow's brain wasn't quite there yet.

Okay Willow, get up you have a date with the day. Get up, get up, get up.

One leg tentatively poked out from under the covers. Oooh, cold.

She wanted so badly to pull that leg back in, but the cold was helping her to wake up. As her mind began to swim back to consciousness, she gradually started to remember where she was. I'm on my mission. I'm in the MTC, I have a bazillion words to learn in Japanese. The alarm just went off we're going to the Gym – oh, Gym. With. Maclay. Shimai!

Her other leg shot straight out of bed and suddenly she was sitting up. It was a little too fast though. She felt a bit woozy for moment as her head spun a few times; she slammed her eyes shut and black with white dots appeared in front her of eyelids. I have to stop doing that. One of these days, I'm going to pass out.

She grabbed her bathroom kit, a change of clothes and headed out.

After a quick shower, she was dressed and ready to go with Kitchen and Smith Shimai to grab Maclay and head on over to gym class. Kitchen Shimai was ready and waiting patiently on her bed. Smith was barely dressed and her hair looked like there was a rat living in it. Willow felt suddenly tense. She couldn't be late; that would be just…unacceptable.

She willed Smith to move faster, to pick up her brush, and chase the rats away, but to no avail. If they left now, they would be on time. Tick tock, tick tock; tick frikken tock. Hurry up already.

I wonder what Maclay meant last night. Willow's mind suddenly stopped. No thoughts filled her head. There was no babble. There was just silence in her mind.

And she waited.

And waited.

Nothing came. There was no babble, no thoughts, absolutely nothing.

Smith was finally ready. Willow felt like a vacuum had sucked out the contents of her mind. That had never happened before, ever.

The sisters headed down the hall to collect Maclay Shimai, when they arrived she was ready and waiting for them. Each received a hug and a hello and they were on their way, late for their first gym class.

When they entered the gym, Willow started to panic. All of the sisters had lined up in rows and were following the instructor's movements to the beat of the song – some fast-paced church approved instrumental stuff she didn't recognize. There was no Olivia Newton John or Kenny Loggins to rock to at the MTC. Everything had to be wholesome.

Ok I can do this it's just choreographed movements – hands up, hands out, steps forward, and kick and back. Switch. Too bad it's just all at the same time. They all look like a bunch of cheerleaders at tryouts. How do they do that? And how can they be so close together. I so suck at this. It could be worse I guess. I could have to sing.

The three headed into the back and started getting coordinated with the rest of the class. Maclay and Kitchen were to Willow's right, and Smith was to her left.

"Right knee up and down, up and down; step back, together and back, together, hop-turn. And lunge and back and lunge and back. Don't forget your arms ladies, get them up and back really reach ladies lets go. Work your hips ladies, reach across, across – feel those abs. Again! Make it count. You gotta feel it. Good. Get those legs going, up and back. That's it!" the instructor chanted. "Left up and down, up and down, kick back, together, and again. Keep it going."

Willow was a half beat behind, almost keeping up. She kept messing up which leg to start with. If she could just get ahead a bit, then she could synchronize with the class. Unfortunately, they'd turned completely around so the instructor was behind her.

Oh great I can't see. Knee up, oh, back together, and hips and reach side and side…

"OW!"

Smith Shimai stood glaring at Willow, the tears welling in her eyes as the sting and surprise turned into throbbing pain.

Oh God! Oh no!

"I'm so sorry! Are you ok?" Willow wanted to crawl under the floorboards and die. Not only had she smacked a Sister, she'd smacked Smith.

As she tried to get back out of the way, she stumbled on something else. There was another groan from behind her. She turned to see Kitchen grimacing in pain as well. She was completely mortified. There was a trickle of blood forming just under Smith's nose and Kitchen was now toe stomped as well. This just couldn't get any worse.

Maclay Shimai sprang into action. She started to run toward the door, turned suddenly, raced back and grabbed Willow by the wrist. "Come with me." She commanded. Willow numbly obliged and followed Maclay out of the gym and quickly down the hall. Coming out of her guilt induced stupor Willow realized she was moving at a fast pace down the halls at the MTC. We're on some type of mission, or perhaps Maclay is helping me escape. One could only hope.

Still without another word, Maclay suddenly turned and Willow knew she was not being saved from her earlier personal mortification. She released Willow's wrist to open the bathroom door and they entered. She turned on the cold-water tap and started pulling out paper towels from the wall dispenser. Willow quickly caught on and followed suit. When they had a healthy supply, Maclay took a small handful and wet the towels. Once satisfied with her makeshift first aid materials, she turned toward the door, again without a word, and Willow followed behind.

When they got back to the gym, Smith was sitting on the floor with her head tilted back. Willow stayed back and watched as Maclay calmly approached Smith. She tenderly placed some of the cold wet cloths under her nose, looked into her eyes with compassion, and smiled. Smith returned her gaze in appreciation of the gesture.

I kinda wish Smith had punched me. Willow thought and instantly felt ashamed.

How can I be thinking about that at a time like this? I've just punched my companion, smooshed my other companion's toe and here I sit ruining gym class for 50 other sister missionaries. Not only will all these gals think I'm a total spaz, including that beautiful blonde over there, I can't even keep focused on my companion's needs. I should have been the one to help her. I mean I did the damage. I've only been a missionary for two days and I've already let down my companion in a big ole huge way. And Maclay, she's just so amazing, look at her.

"Rosenberg Shimai."

Someone's talking to me.

"Sister Rosenberg." The voice repeated a little louder. "Are you ok?"

Who dares interrupt my self-loathing? Willow looked up into the face of Kitchen Shimai. She seemed to have recovered from her earlier injury.

Sister Kitchen affectionately placed her palm on Willow's forearm and seemed to be searching her eyes for an answer. She saw only love and kindness there. Willow was moved beyond words.

She nodded and felt tears starting to pool in her eyes. How can she be so nice to me? If she only knew, I'm not worthy of this.

The rest of gym class Willow pedaled alone on a stationary bike. Pity she hadn't seen it before the great companion punching and sister toe stomp incident of 1984. The only drawback was being alone with her thoughts.

Internal Willow babble and guilt were a bad combination. She tried to concentrate on the positive, refocus on the reasons she was here. Her mind drifted to Amy and those she'd left behind. She decided thinking about home was not the distraction to get her out of her funk.

Music, that was good happy and upbeat. She tried to put the sounds in her heart and think of the meaning behind the words of her favorite hymns. The classical music and aerobic mayhem around her thwarted that effort. She couldn't concentrate on anything. She gave up on redirecting her mind and started to look around. Peddle. Peddle.

She looked over at Smith, Kitchen, and Maclay Shimai. They looked tired but happy. Just a hint of sweat was gleaming on Maclay's brow. They seemed intent on what they were doing. Maclay had the routine down. Willow stopped pedaling and leaned forward on the bike to better observe.

She's really quite lovely. And graceful.

Maclay's breathing was shallow her mouth slightly open. Her hair was back off her face in a ponytail and Willow could see clearly the lines of her face, the curve of her nose and cheeks and contours of her chin and neck. As Willow was studying the girl, Maclay suddenly looked directly at her.

Busted.

Willow blushed and looked down, but not away from the sparkling blue eyes. Maclay still in stride looked at Willow with such intensity that Willow felt a flush of heat pass through her.

Willow realized her greatest challenge was looking right at her. It wasn't just about the power of their connection; there was something else, something beyond words. Willow wanted more.

This was it: The Test. Could Willow refrain if Maclay wanted her too?

After a quick shower and change, the girls went about their day. She went to language study and tried to focus on the teacher. He was cute. All the aversion techniques she'd learned included redirecting passions that bubbled deep within. All the guys in their group seemed really nice – except the annoying one, Hamm. She thought she saw him picking his nose once, but the evidence was inconclusive.

Hamm especially seemed to take to the language naturally. He said he'd done theatre in high school so it was easy for him to memorize scripts. To him that's all it was, it was just a bunch of words in order. Nevertheless, Willow wanted the words to mean something.

She tried to focus throughout the day, but her earlier epiphany had left her shaken. Even the normal babble in her head seemed quieter. That was just…disturbing. It was almost time for bed and her brain just kept rehashing the horribleness that was her day today. She needed a distraction.

At 9:30, there was a soft knock at the door. Willow looked up from her desk where she'd been studying. Her companions were already in bed. They were exhausted and had been sporting droopy eyelids near the end of their earlier class. Smith Shimai appeared to be already asleep. Willow quietly opened the door.

Maclay stood in the doorway with books in hand.

Maclay flashed a quick smile and held up her books. Ooh, my study buddy – cool. It's like our second study date, cool. Wait, did I just think that. No, that's sooo not right.

Willow silently concurred, went to grab her books and a few pens before she quietly headed out. As a perfect end to her day, she tripped on the chair at the desk and stumbled across the room. She rolled her eyes, gathered up the pens she'd dropped in an effort to keep her self up right, and she meekly walked out the door closing it behind her.

The two walked in silence to the lounge area where Willow sat down with a muffled thud.

Maclay sat down beside her, set her books down, and turned her hips on the couch to face Willow. After setting her books down on the couch beside her, Willow threw her feet onto the table, leaned way back resting her head against the back cushion.

After observing her in silence for a few moments, Maclay spoke softly, "Rough day, huh?"

"You have no idea." Willow started in retelling the events of her day, "So after the gym fiasco, thank you for helping by the way, it just kept getting better.

"Hamm Choro is like the master memorizer and I was feeling all stupid. I kept goofing up stuff in class and about all I know I can really say is "I" and "thank you." I mix my chi and ra, mo & ho and it's embarrassing. My sentences sound like word soup, all with the English and Japanese all sloshing around together, but not in a good Campbell's wholesome goodness sort of way, you know. I mean I'm supposed to be study girl, why can't I get this?" Hamm Chorro is just not that smart, is he?"

Maclay continued looking at her intensely listening to every word.

"And I was feeling a little disconnected and homesicky, then Kitchen get a letter from home – and what – she's been here like five minutes and has gotten a box and a letter."

Willow could feel the intensity and loving energy that seemed to radiate from Maclay. She wasn't babbling though; this was something else…possibly a rant or maybe a dump. It didn't matter. She could tell Maclay was really hearing her.

"Then at lunch, I spilled my milk everywhere. I'm such a klutz. I think Smith Shimai hates me. You know where most of it ran, right, I don't even have to say it.

"We're getting set apart tomorrow and I can't even seem to find a good happy place mentally. You'd think being here it would be easier somehow. At dinner, there was cheesecake but Elder Brooks took the last one." She rolled her eyes and took a breath to catch up for her next wave; the rehash was not quite over.

"So I guess I'm not too familiar with the cold weather problems of Utah, I mean, who knew that when dew in Provo is cold it becomes ice? I'm on my way back from class tonight; I slipped and fell right on my rump." She gazed up at the ceiling for a moment and then looked back at her confidant.

Her unload on Maclay had been cathartic. She'd felt alone all day and yet here she was sitting with a kind, compassionate person who was giving her one hundred percent of her support and encouragement to ramble along. She's such a find this girl. Look at her, she's so beautiful and sweet and attentive. Just like today when she helped Smith. I can tell she'd probably stop for a stray dog or cat, put her life on hold to help someone out. She'd go out of her way to make you feel good.

"That's it. That's enough." She interrupted Willow's internal Maclay-centered babble. "Let's get chocolate."

Wait. What?

"Chocolate makes all things better." Maclay was smiling and nodding in confirmation.

Huh? I thought you would suggest a prayer, reading some meaningful passages, or give me either an inspirational speech or harsh talking to for not counting my blessings or something."

"Well, I could do that, but that's not what you want." She responded with confidence.

"How do you know what I want?" The words came out a little harsher than Willow intended, but it had been a long and frustrating day and how could anyone really know what was on her mind right now.

Maclay's voice was strong, sure, and actually seemed to drop in tone a little. "I know what you want."

Willow, on the other hand, seemed to be going into panic mode. Her vocal cords tensed with every word. "How can you know what I want when I don't even know what I want?"

"You do, you just won't admit it. You want chocolate." Maclay was nodding her head again as if to convince Willow.

"No, I don't." Willow responded flatly.

"Okay, you don't want chocolate," She cocked her head and look amused, "You need chocolate."

"What are you stuck? Do you have stock in a chocolate company or something? Chocolate can't fix this day; it can't take away the humiliation of bopping Miss Foo Foo in the nose, and crying over my spilled milk and losing my focus in language class."

"No, it can't." Maclay was still smiling at her. "But it beats the alternative."

"What's that?"

"No chocolate."

"Oh, you are just hopeless." Willow was starting to loosen up a bit. She giggled and rolled her eyes.

"Well actually, I'm more hopeful." Maclay trailed off.

"About what?" Willow suddenly realized that maybe Maclay wasn't really talking about chocolate.

"Well I was hoping we could go to the vending machines to get you what you want." Maclay was looking at her expectantly.

"Because chocolate is what I want?"

"Because," Maclay took a cleansing breath, "we need to get up off the couch to get to the vending machines."

Willow was stunned. In that moment she realized she did know exactly what she wanted, moreover she had a good idea that Maclay really knew what she wanted; and Maclay wanted it too.

A tear began to form in Willow's eye. As she looked in to the ocean of blue before her, she felt the tiny muscles in her chin start to spasm and quiver as she fought to hold back the tide within.

Maclay sensed her distress, reached out her hand to touch her face. With the pad of her thumb, she caught the single tear that had started a slow cascade down Willow's cheek.

"Oh Sweetie, it's okay; we can do this." She cupped her hand around Willow's cheek. Now, how about we get some of that chocolate?" Before we do something we both might regret Willow added for Maclay instinctively knowing that's what the girl meant.

Just 58 more days.

Part 6
What Lies Beneath

Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep~!

"Argh" Willow slowly swam to consciousness. She reached with certainty toward the annoying noisemaker also known as her wake up call. Her hand flopped on the clock and she pressed on the snooze. She was sluggish, and felt the darkness swimming around her brain as she struggled to wake herself up.

In her "first thing in the morning" mind, the events of yesterday blurred together, but she was able to start separating various moments. It had started out with a bang, literally into Smith's nose. She had struggled through her language class and had a few insanely stupid klutz moments. The end of the day had found her face to face with a beautiful, sweet blonde who helped her find some perspective with Chocolate. Willow relaxed into the memory and closed her eyes just for a moment.

After they left the couch, they headed to the vending machines. Maclay had bought them a snack pack of M&M's. They joked about the tasty milk chocolatey goodness inside the hard covered shell. She sat down on the floor next to the vending machine in the dimly lit corner. Willow sat facing Maclay with her back against the vending machine. The hum and slight vibration was settling to her tired soul. The illumination from the vending machine was quieting and almost, yes, it was romantic.

Maclay carefully opened the little brown packet of yummy treats just at the corner.

"The little yellow ones are feisty," Maclay said as she reached her fingers and thumb in the bag and pulled out a brown. "The brown are simple and didn't care about what the others think about them. They are content that they are the same on the outside and on the inside."

Maclay raised her eyebrows, opened her mouth in mirrored demonstration, and slowly reached toward Willow with the little candy. Willow thought she saw Maclay's fingers tremble a little as she opened her mouth to accept the little treat. Maclay dropped the candy inside her mouth.

Willow sucked on the candy melting the hard shell and finding the tiny chocolate taste exquisite. She let out a big sigh. This was the best medicine ever.

Maclay reached slowly into the bag again. Picking up another brown, she smiled and repeated the movement. Willow happily complied.

"The tan M&Ms – well they are somewhat boring stay at home types that's why they are so rare." Maclay continued with her story. "The red ones were passionate; I miss them." She pulled out another brown. Maclay reached again toward her with her treat.

"The orange are often jealous of the attention the others seem to get. They often feel left out." Maclay pulled out another candy. "Oh yellow, feisty. Look out."

Willow opened her month and the candy was gently tossed inside. It hit her tooth and she let out a giggle after crunching down on the little yellow offender.

Maclay reached in the bag again. She pulled out the candy slowly, baiting Willow with anticipation. "Oh, this one's mine." She threw the green candy in the air and caught it on its downward flight with her open mouth.

Willow took another deep breath as Maclay reached in again.

"The secret, you know, is to never to talk about the green."

Maclay pulled out an orange one. She reached out to Willow again. However, instead of pulling her hand away when she let go, Maclay let her hand linger and held on to the chocolate. Willow hadn't expected that. She closed her lips around Maclay's fingertips. Her mouth felt like it was on fire as she felt the smooth skin. She reached out tentatively with her tongue to touch the soft intruders.

Willow's eyes closed and let the feeling wash over her.

Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep~!

Damn it! Oh shit, er shoot, um dang it.

Willow flung her hand at the clock and slapped at it in frustration.

Well that is just wrong on so many levels. That was sort of what happened except for the melts in your mouth not in your hands feeding and that finger thing. That was just…too intense. I better get up and go take a shower: preferably a cool one with lots of begging for forgiveness.

Willow grabbed her clothes, a clean set of underclothes, and her bathroom kit and headed off for the showers.

As she removed her pajamas, Willow glanced down at the items she now wore beneath everything else. She'd been a member just over a year enjoying the privileges of membership: sacraments, and callings and so forth. She'd been a "card-carrying" temple member for less than a month; the sacred garments were new to her. They represented covenants and purity of heart, body, and soul. She still thought they looked a little funny.

The top had capped sleeves and shallow neckline (but not too shallow), the bottoms stopped just above the knee and reminded her of a girdle only they were very thin. She'd opted for the cotton material because she just didn't think the shiny ones looked like the material would breathe enough. They seemed prettier though and she'd wished she'd purchased more of them.

She signed as she thought of her commitments and her moment of weakness on her second morning here. Willow started her internal tirade. I stayed out late with Maclay Shimai – although that wasn't a major thing considering the day I had. She wasn't perfect either though was she all showing up at my door like that-all companionless and late nighty.

She finished her preparations for the shower turned the water on and tested it with her hand. Then she stepped in.

Her name is Tara. That's so pretty. I can't believe we talked so long. I don't even know what we were talking about. She's just so interesting. I could listen to her voice for hours, she could recite the alphabet, and I'd be in heaven.

I loved the way she said my name. It was as if she was tasting something exquisite, rich, and delicious. When she held the "w" out at the end – she just looked well just down right scrumptious. And she was so cute doing all those little voices for each of the M&M's. Poor little orange, it was so misunderstood. It just wanted the things the others had. Willow flashed back to her morning dream and suddenly felt her knees go weak.

Back on track Rosenburg. She stepped further under the water stream. This is day three. They are setting us apart today. I need to be in the right place – like the brown M&Ms same on the outside as the inside, just a harder cover shell. She ducked her head under the water. Her red locks darkened and a slight hint of a natural curl emerged. This is a big, big day. I have places to go, things to do, Japanese to learn. Yes, I can do this. Hi, dekimasu. No, that's not quite what she said. No, not 'you can do this.' She said, "We can do this."

What Willow didn't know was on the other side of the dorms Tara too was struggling with her own internal confusion and frustration. The redhead was just too adorable for words. All she wanted to do yesterday evening was to hold her and make the day fade away for her.

When she'd seen the debacle unfold before her at the aerobics class, she knew Willow just wanted to crawl inside herself and disappear. She'd been at another table during lunch, her companions too slow to ensure a table with the other girls. She'd seen Willow mopping up her spilled milk. The flush on her face nearly matched her hair. That night, she and her companions had come up behind Willow and the others as Willow was pulling herself up off the cement. They were far enough behind, that Willow most likely hadn't known they were there. Not wanting to compound Willow's embarrassment, they remained silent.

Tara decided as soon as she could, she would go and check on her. When her companions quickly drifted off to sleep, it was like a sign. She slipped out fully intending to stay just a little while. She took her scriptures along as a pretext, and went straight down the hall to see her new friend. She watched yet another moment of despair unfolded for poor Willow when she'd stubbed her toe on the chair and sent her colored pencils flying. Tara was determined that she would make this day end for Willow on an up note.

She knew their connection was significant. She'd been pondering the things Willow had said, the feelings she'd had since meeting the beautiful redhead, and their innocent yet suggestive conversation at dinner that first day; she realized the dangers inherent to her current frame of mind.

She wanted to be strong. Moreover, she thought she might be losing that battle.

After listening to Willow describe her day, Tara decided that a distraction was in order. She had been quietly observing the girl and finding it harder and harder not to reach over and touch her, to reassure her that this was going to pass. When Willow threw her head back and then looked over at her, she felt the rush of desire wash over her. Her heart seemed to be trying to pound its way out of her chest. She couldn't breathe. She felt weak. Would she be able to resist this temptation for two months? Then what? They might be paired up in the field. What would she do if she had to work side by side with this beautiful person?

Tara knew Willow felt it too. She'd sensed their connection from the beginning as well; she could tell by the way Willow responded to their conversations. When she had said they needed to move from the couch, Willow's eyes had welled with tears. It was too much. She saw it, the raw emotions behind her eyes: the need, the ache, the want. She couldn't stop herself from reaching over, just for a moment to wipe the tear that was trickling down her soft, smooth cheek. She wanted to ease Willow's pain, let her know that it was going to be okay, but she really wasn't sure at that moment that she truly believed that. She wondered, was this a test of her will or her faith, or something else entirely?

She needed a plan. Going to the vending machines had been a good diversion last night, but it was clear that she needed some long-term type of solution to her predicament. However, everything that the missionary did seemed to intensify her connection with her. When they shared their first names, it seemed like they'd bonded on an even deeper level. That was probably a mistake.

For her, getting too familiar with other girls was dangerous, especially when there were already such strong feelings present. How do I back up? No, that won't do. I don't want to hurt her and after her day yesterday, she would take that the wrong way. I can't stay on this path, that road will take me away from where I need to be. Change direction it is.

Willow headed back to her room and discovered her companions still in bed. Oh, more time to do right things. She went to the desk and picked up her journal. She had a few more minutes if the girls were going to the gym and if they didn't then she had an hour. She decided a quick update to her journal was in order. Today was an important day so she needed some good strong sprit- filled rejuvenation – or maybe a cookie.

November 10, 1984 Yesterday was sort of a disaster. It started with Gym class and became like a comedy of errors. It just kept getting worse and worse. I got so tired I couldn't think straight. No mail for me yet; maybe today. Kitchen got some cookies from her mom and she's been sharing with us. Hamm Choro is doing really well on his language – better than most of us. We sound funny right now. He said he's just good at memorization. About all we could do at dinner was ask for salt and pepper. They are still letting us do our group prayers in English but they said next week, not so much. We got our flip charts yesterday. They're all in Japanese – even the people. It's cool. I hope Maclay Shimai drops by again tonight. We get together before bed for some reading. At first, it was complicated trying to figure out how to keep us always at least in twos – we finally realized we could see each other walk down the hall so we're aren't really out of eyesight. Once I open the door, we can both walk to the middle. There are some couches there by the bathroom area where we can study. There's tables and stuff too. I'm going to show her my color coding system. I hope she doesn't think I'm too weird, but it really works for me. I was going to do that last night, but we kind of got distracted talking about my day. I hope I didn't bore her. We are getting set apart today. Looks like the companions are waking up so we're going to gym class, then breakfast – the most important meal of the day! And then into missionary mode: more language, language, language.

The girls headed out to gym class, but today Willow took her scriptures. She was determined to get some morning study before breakfast and her meeting with the Mission President. She decided to focus on yellow with red underline. Underlined red was her color key for missionary stuff. Regular yellow was about light, love and heaven and reward and she'd found they often ended up over lapping – well under-lapping.

Maclay had wanted to stay in for her own studying as well. Conley and Colson, the "C" sisters, were asleep. Kitchen and Smith said they focused better when they got a good workout so off they all went. Willow was amused again at the similarities that the other two pairs shared. She wondered what Maclay was studying back in her room as she tried to read her passages. Today the music was a little less distracting but her thoughts of the blonde in her room were not.

She leaned against the wall with her books in her lap looking for something that would jump out, a word and line, a thought. Nothing. She picked up the larger book, and thumbed through the pages. Then she read, "Ye are the light of the world." Hmmm. Yellow. Red. What are the chances of that? I come up with a color coding system that leads me right back to this, the very passage that I talked about with Tara. Heck even the colors remind me of us.

There was something more powerful at work here than she could grasp. She closed her eyes and bowed her head in contemplation. She wanted to yell, "What?" But that's not how answers come. Answers come with silence. She found her center and was ready for the day.

After gym class, the girls got dressed. As Kitchen and Smith were putting on the final touches of their makeup, Will stood at her desk looking down at the little black and white nameplate. This little badge identified her, made her stand apart from others. She puffed her chest with pride and pinned the little ornament to her suit jacket. She felt the importance more today than the prior two days at the MTC. Today would be the day of the blessing, she was looking forward to the thoughts the president would share with her. He was an inspired person with an important calling.

The whole mood at breakfast seemed more somber today, more reflective. Even the Rice Krispies she'd chosen for breakfast seemed to whisper their "Snap, Crackle and Pops." Of course, it could have been that she'd covered them with too much sugar, but why spoil the moment with truth…

She saw Maclay at the end of the table and gave her a tiny wave. She's just as lovely as ever. She wondered for a moment what was going on her mind. Was she as excited as Willow was about getting set apart? Had she found some inspiration this morning? She wondered quite a bit about the thoughts of her missionary friend.

Meanwhile, Willow was still a little hungry and headed back to the counter for some more cereal. She had been secretly monitoring the cafeteria woman to see when refills would be available. She felt a slight bump against her left shoulder as she dumped a healthy amount of Frosted Flakes in her bowl.

"Hey there you." Tara greeted Willow with a big grin. "Oh, some sugar coated goodness I see." Willow returned her smile with a gleam in her eye.

"Oh hey. Good morning." She paused looking down at her bowl. "Yeah, you caught me. I was looking for a little sugar boost to get me through the morning. Did you sleep well?" Willow turned to observe Tara looking over the selections for her own bowl.

"Yeah, I'm a bit tired, but it's gonna be ok, I am looking for a little sugar boost too, but I don't want any sugar coated cereal. I was looking for something a little more natural…"

"Well," Willow shifted into her 'service care provider' routine. "Would you be interested in Wheaties? I hear they are the breakfast of champions. You could add a little honey to the mix. That's natural. Or…perhaps you'd be interested Cheerios ala red, my personal recipe?

Tara furrowed her brow. "Okay, you got me. What's Cheerios ala red?

"Well, you want natural, so I'll customize it a little for you and grab this right here." Willow said as she reached across Tara for the natural sugar in the brown packet. She grabbed two packets. Next, we need to adequately prepare your nummy breakfast treat." She took Tara's bowl and dumped in a serving of Cheerios. She shook the sugar packets back and forth to make sure there was no unwanted spilling.

"Now, we have to add the secret ingredient." She handed Tara a spoon. "Blend please." Willow opened the sugar packet and started pouring out the yellow tinted natural sugar out over the cheerios while shaking the cinnamon in as well. Huh, more red and yellow.

"You do this to ensure perfect 'Ohs'. You don't want all that sugar to just fall through the holes straight down to the bottom of your bowl."

"And now you can add the milk, it does a body good." Willow handed Tara a personal size milk cartoon and smiled poking her tongue out slightly in good-natured fun.

Tara raised an eyebrow. A slow crooked grin emerged and she looked deeply into the green eyes searching hers.

Tara realized Willow had much more power over her than she'd previously thought. She was going to have to expedite her plan if she had any chance of getting through the next few weeks – days more likely – without seriously failing her oaths and obligations. She panicked.

"Well I better head back, I'm sure the girls are wondering why it's taking me so long to fill my bowl. I'll see you later, okay?

Willow could tell she'd hit a nerve. She hadn't meant to, but it was so easy to flirt with the Tara. It was like magic between them. She'd never felt so comfortable being herself with anyone – ever. She headed back to her own table in a mental fog. Refocus Willow.

All her books in front of her, she turned to a random page looking for a yellow or red again.

"But behold I say unto you that you must study it out in your mind; then you must ask me if it be right, and if it is right I will cause that your bosom shall burn within you: therefore, you shall feel that it is right."

Okay, that just threw in a new monkey wrench. What's the question? Willow feared it was too easy, to just ask the thing, the question really on her mind. Is it that simple?

Part 7
Connections

Some times, in the mundane, we find truth. We have connections to the world around us, and if we listen carefully enough, we can hear the answers to questions of the heart.

…What's the question? Willow feared it was too easy, to just ask the thing, the question really on her mind. Is it that simple?

"It is that simple," Tara said to her companions. We all have to figure out what we have to do and fit it in by noon. "The temple takes about two hours, but it's a short walk across the street. The mall is an hour or so, plus a bus ride and that's if we find the perfect schedule. We just have to get up earlier than we normally do. We can do this."

Colson rolled her eyes, "I just don't think we can fit it all in."

Conley nodded in agreement. "We can go next week to the mall. You've forgotten we need time to eat."

"And get dressed, and I was looking forward to my sweats time." Colson added with a slight pout.

"How bout this: we start the laundry when we get up, run over for breakfast, and then dry when we're done, then go to the temple." Tara threw out a possible plan to the two sisters. "We can go to the mall if we have time after, we can do our letters on the bus ride over and grab something at the mall to eat before we come back." She was struggling now, she really needed to go to the temple and get her reverence time, but the other sisters were not cooperating. She also had mall things she wanted to do. She needed to clear her head and possibly plan and plot. But Sweats time. Tara considered that for a moment. Just be comfy for a bit. Mmmm, that would feel good.

"Yeah, that feels good. Is it alright?" Willow finished adjusting her shoulder pad that had slipped in the back a little bit. Who invented these things anyway? This has to be the dumbest thing ever. Do I look like a football player? Sometimes, I just want to cut them off and stuff them here, you know." She made a circular motion in front of her emerald green sweater.

Kitchen giggled a little at that. "You are so funny Rosenberg Shimai. Where do you get all that energy? You just seem extra bubbly today."

"Well it could be the extra helping of sugar frosted flakes I had this morning." Willow's knee was starting to bounce up and down nervously now.

"Yeah and that was after the big bowl of Rice Krispies. I've never seen any thing quite like it. It was like you were on a sugar binge. It's a good thing we didn't have to open all the packets; we'd still be watching you eat. How on earth do you stay so thin eating like that?" Smith tossed out the backhanded complement.

"I'm sure she doesn't want to get into all that." Kitchen gracefully jumped to Willow's defense. "We should probably think about getting over there."

Willow was relieved she didn't have to respond. "Do you want to, right now, now?"

"Oh I do want to, very much." Maclay replied.

Conley took a breath. "Okay, you seem really anxious to go do all this stuff, but there's no way I'm getting up at five on my morning off to go do the temple and then laundry. I'm just being honest. I want my comfy clothes time too. It's just not going to happen. I can be good in my intentions, but I know I wouldn't be able to get up." She added sincerely.

"We can go to the mall when it opens and when we get back, we'll do laundry. We'll do the temple next week and maybe the other sisters will want to come too or visa versa. I just think we need to pick one."

Conley looked hard into Maclay's eyes. She started to get up. "It's time for us to go on over." They gathered their stuff and headed for the door. Conley walked up closer to Maclay and said quietly almost a whisper in her ear, "We'll have plenty of time and you'll get done exactly what you need to. We'll do whichever. Just pick what you want to do most and do that."

That would be so easy; Tara cringed inside, her p-day schedule no longer on her mind. But what if I did?

"Really? Could you? That would be cool if we could." Willow was hopeful.

"I'm sure they'll let us take notes. One of us will do that for you." Kitchen added.

"Maybe we should take some paper with us just in case." She had finished her cereal and was looking through her Japanese text absent-mindedly. "I think we're supposed to go over in about ten more minutes." From the corner of her eye, she saw Tara and her companions getting up to leave. "Maybe we should go back to the room and get a notebook or something?"

Willow quickly picked up her things to encourage a hasty exit. They left closely behind the other sisters. Kitchen, Smith and Rosenberg headed out of the cafeteria and down the hall toward their room. Willow glanced back and saw the other three heading the away from them way toward the front of the building. Willow projected her happy calming thoughts as her mind drifted once again to the blonde.

"Oh, can we stop off at the bathroom first?" Kitchen asked.

Willow remarked offhandedly and smiled, "Fine by me," she added, "it's not like I'm gonna say no to that."

"I'm not sure I can." Tara was looking at her top. "I might as well have spilled red wine or kool aid on it. I think it's ruined." Tara was pointing toward the spot that the others had just noticed on her top.

"How did you do that? I don't even remember you eating anything red. Was it even today?" Conley asked.

"After we're done here we're going to have to go back and get you changed before the next class," Colson interjected. "I can't believe I didn't see it before."

"Oh, come on guys, it's not that big…is it?" Tara suddenly looked worried and apprehensive about the spot on her sweater. "Fine, I'm gonna meet the president of the MTC and he's gonna be looking at my…er…spot."

"Maybe you could put your badge over it," Colson suggested.

"Oh right, so instead of him looking at the spot on my…um sweater, he'll be looking that the poor placement of my badge. There's just nothing that says 'sacred calling, set me apart' than a misplaced badge poking out in the front there." She made a big over-emphasized "O" gesture with her hand around the "spot" which made Conley stifle a giggle. They had arrived at the mission president's office.

Tara admitted, "There's really not much we can do about it now, anyway. We're here"

"That's okay, I can wait," Willow said to Kitchen and Smith as they headed in to use the bathroom.

She nervously thumbed through her books while she waited standing near the sink. This is going to be the longest day. She was all twiddled inside. Moreover, Smith had even noticed how much sugar she'd piled into her. Truth be told, she was hoping it would keep her awake. After her late night out with Tara, she was still feeling a little sluggish, nervousness not withstanding. She was interrupted by a flush and then another.

Kitchen came out first, followed by Smith. They came over to the sinks where Willow was fidgeting with a paper towel. After she washed her hands, Kitchen took the paper towel from Willow and threw it away for her. "You ready?" She looked at Willow with sincerity.

"Yeah. You guys good to go too?" Willow inquired. The girls nodded and the three went toward the room to get notepaper and then go to be set apart.

They walked in silence over to the dorms and to the room to gather their notebooks and then back to the main building to the president's office. As they were entering the office, Willow heard Tara talking to her companions.

"We have to wait, but not very long." She glanced up at Willow just as she finished speaking their eyes connecting in shared understanding.

Willow's palms started to sweat, her heart skipped a beat, her mouth went dry, and she tried to swallow. How does she do that? She looked out the window and noticed it had started to rain.

We have to wait, but not very long. It seemed to echo in Willows mind.

They waited in reverent silence for their respective turns. Each seemed to be lost in personal contemplation. Willow bowed her head with the others but was unable to concentrate; the sugar rush was making her all jittery. She started absent-mindedly looking around at the pairs of feet on the floor. She looked from one comfortable pair of shoes to the next until her eyes fixed upon a familiar pair of feet. When she felt her emotions start to rise, she knew she was in trouble. Oh, Willow, they are just her feet.

Oh oops. Don't say that – that is like saying what else could go wrong or don't look now. You just don't do that. Sure enough without even thinking, her eyes started examining the shape of Tara's foot. Willow started screaming in her head. Stop, no, don't look, don't, stop. Don't. Her eyes did not obey her internal commands. Her gaze began a slow cascade up the perfectly shaped ankles passed the tone calves to the grey skirt Tara had chosen to wear. Unable to slow their ascent Willow drank in the sight before her, the womanly curve of her hips, the soft contours of her waist and stomach. The light blue sweater perfectly complemented her ocean blue eyes. Oh please, I just have to stop. Stop looking, stop, oh… Willow hitched a breath. She was unable to deter her eyes from the perfection of the soft delicious mounds before her; that's when she saw the small red stain on Tara's breast.

Willow forced herself to blink to move her focus up toward the sparkling blue eyes. She sensed a shift in feeling in the room Willow quickly glanced up to see Tara looking at her nervously. Willow quickly guessed the reason behind Tara's reaction and sprang into action.

She rose off her seat, crossed the room and knelt in front of Tara.

"It's not that noticeable."

"You saw it."

"Well, yes. But, I'm abnormally observant when it comes to things related to you. Oh, I mean, not that it's abnormal to be observing you. No, that's not it, I'm not like staring at you or anything like that – well actually I was a little, and I'm really embarrassed to admit that right now, but it's kinda true and I really need to stop talking 'cause there are things that should not be said aloud. But I just can't seem to help it when I talk to you. I just sensed that you were uncomfortable, and I saw you were looking at me, and well that's where I was looking at the moment when you caught me. Well not that I was doing something that I shouldn't be doing because getting caught implies wrong, I don't think it was wrong to be looking at you, but then I got all embarrassed. And I just really need to stop talking don't I?

Tara just stared at Willow.

"Okay, maybe just a little more talking. I had an idea." Willow started to take off her name badge. "Here, my over jacket will look perfect with your outfit." Willow's green sweater looked fine without the matching suit top and she was warm enough that it wasn't necessary for comfort. After the name badge was removed, she took off her jacket and held it with both hands.

"Here, take it."

Tara ducked her head a little, and Willow thought she saw a hint of a smile return to the beautiful woman before her.

Tara recognized the gesture for what it was. Willow wanted to help her. And the red head was so cute that she simply could get lost in her eyes, her face, and her smile. She truly had found a gem in this girl, this babbling girl full of energy who had filled her thoughts as of late. Yes, she was afraid of what the she represented: Desire. Belonging. Love. She wasn't supposed to have that here, now, and especially with Willow. This isn't what the plan was supposed to be. Yet here she was.

Willow knelt before her with both hands outstretched holding the jacket up for her in supplication. She was lending her a jacket. The significance was not lost on Tara. She gratefully accepted Willow's offering and was rewarded with a beaming smile as she removed her nametag, gracefully placed first one arm and then next in the over jacket, pulled it around her as if in a shared embrace. She then affixed her own nametag a few inches above her heart.

Tara inhaled deeply taking in the scent of Willow from her jacket. A warm rush flew over Tara and she was overwhelmed with love and gratitude. "Thank you."

A moment, a breath, a heartbeat. The silence. The knowing.

"Sister Conley, we're ready for you, did you want to bring one of your companions in with you." The woman attending the office inquired.

Sister Conley looked at her companions and nodded toward Colson and the two disappeared into the mission president's office.

It would be just a few more minutes. Willow rose from in front of Tara and sat in the chair next to her. Her companions sat on the other side of the room quietly, engrossed in their own personal contemplation. They waited in silence as if strangers in a doctor's office. Willow resumed her downward gaze and settled back to studying her own shoes; that was much safer.

Tara also seemed captivated by her hands, which were resting together on her lap. She hated waiting. There was only one thing she could think of.

"Um, Sister Rosenberg?" Tara said almost in a whisper, "I-I don't want to disturb you if you need to be quiet right now, but if not, could we maybe, I don't know, do something?" She looked at Willow expectantly.

"Sure, that would be great. What did you have in mind?"

"Well, I'm kinda nervous and I wondered if you knew how to thumb wrestle?"

"Oh yeah, back at home I majored in thumb wrestling" Willow shifted into their usual good-natured banter. Maybe we should just start slowly, work our way up to the harder stuff: two handed and blind wrestle or cross-handed two- thumb wrestle in the dark with ticklers.

"Why, I believe you may have met your match, Miss Majored in Thumb Wrestle. I too am well-versed in a variety styles and accomplished in many techniques both passive and aggressive in the art of the wrestle of thumb."

Both sisters felt the tension slipping away as they joined in their lighthearted conversation about the joys of thumb wrestling. They were preparing for their first match when the woman returned to the room calling for Sister Maclay.

Willow was sad, but knew that thumb wrestling had to take a back seat to the needs of the missionary work they had been called to do.

"We will meet again, Miss Maclay and have that thumb match."

"Indeed we will…Why don't you guys swing by tonight after language and we'll have our match and unwind a little?" Did I just ask her on a date? I can't believe I just did that. Tara was stunned by her sudden unguarded behavior.

Willow responded in the only way she knew how – with a huge beaming smile.

Tara disappeared behind the door and after a moment, Sister Colson made her way out from the office.

"We're having a party at your room tonight after class." Willow announced while bouncing a bit in her chair.

"Oh we are? Great!" Sister Colsen looked happy with the thought. She sat down in the chairs waiting for the other two to come out. She seemed to be thinking for a moment. "Do you want us to stay behind to sit with the one who doesn't go in?"

Kitchen Shimai looked around the room suddenly realizing again another problem with threes being shoved into a two situation. "Ya know, I keep thinking of that puzzle, the fox, the hen, the grain, and the man that has to take them all across the river in a boat."

"Yeah, me too." Willow said. "Except I'm not gonna eat any of you…" Why do I even try to talk? Willow ducked her head in shame hoping that she was the only one who had any clue what she had just implied. You know, in a different time and a different place that just would have been down right hysterical.

Willow resumed her earlier personal contemplation. As she considered the implications of her thoughts, she looked up, and glanced out the window and watched as the rain trickled down the windowpane. She suddenly realized that when something is right, it is that simple. However, it's not always easy.

Part 8
It's About Time

Tara tapped her pencil restlessly against her Japanese text. The eraser muffled the sound against the pages. The voices around her in her class seemed to echo as if spoken through a soup can. She was trying to piece together her thoughts but finding it hard to do so. It's too bad they don't give us any time.

What the mission president had said concerned her. She needed to remain focused on the work she was called to do so that she might enjoy the blessings that were waiting for her. She would be able to teach the Gospel, but she had to avail herself of the tools she had been given: a willing heart, an open mind, and strength to do what was right. He had cautioned her to be wary of the temptations around her, that she needed to be strong and faithful. He said, "The mission is what matters." She had to be patient and true and let her heart light the way. She felt there was something else in the words, if she could just work it out, it would make some sense.

The language part of this MTC experience was getting the best of her. She needed to concentrate on speaking it more. She had never been that great of a student, but she wasn't dumb. She needed to use what was available to her. Maybe singing would help. Maybe the group could practice hymns tonight from the songbook, song biki, san baki, sanbika – yeah, sanbika.

She knew Conley Shimai could sing, heck she seemed to be speaking Japanese fluently already – but maybe that was because she did everything so fast. Maybe we could just really learn a song that would have meaning for us. I wonder if Willow sings.

She took a deep breath again trying to pull her mind back but the scent of the redhead was distracting. This really is a nice jacket. She absentmindedly felt the fabric on her sleeve. She needed to focus, but it was so hard. Willow had really saved her today. She had been feeling so self- conscious about the stain on her top, and the sister had been a lifesaver. Make a mental note – buy candy.

She looked at her watch for the tenth time that class. Time seemed to be stuck. She needed to work out her ideas in her journal maybe talk through her thoughts and figure out what Rosenberg had to do with the big picture. She knew there was a reason for their connection.

Willow was coming down from her sugar high as she sat in language class. Her leg had finally stopped its unconscious shaking. They should just let us have some time off after they set us apart. She wanted to remember everything. It had gone smoothly, but it was mostly a blur. She hoped that Kitchen Shimai had taken good notes and it would jar her memories of what he said.

The actual "setting apart" was different than she expected, it was actually just a blessing – the laying on of hands and a few words of guidance through the Mission president. His hands were heavy on her head. It was a little distracting. She did remember that he had said she would be able to discern the dangers that would divert her from her work, that there would be challenges and struggles along the way and that she needed to listen for guidance and follow the examples of those around her.

She was in language class not listening. This is so bad. I'm a good student. This is so not like me. Willow had been trying to pay attention, but thoughts of her other activities were consuming her mind. She needed to find a way to connect with Japanese, to make her thoughts transition the words more readily. Maybe we could try some hymns out. I'd actually like to learn these so I'm not all stupid when I get there. I mean, I'm not the world's worst singer, and I bet Tara could cover me. Oh and we still have our thumb wresting match. Maybe if I'm lucky we can run to the vending machine for a little snack.

She got lost again in thoughts of her friend. I wonder how Maclay's blessing went. She seemed so self-conscious about that little red stain. I hope she felt more confident going in. She looked very nice in my suit jacket. As she considered her last thought, she bit her lip as the image of the beautiful girl again filled her thoughts. Willow caught herself again wondering what Tara was doing at that moment. She forced herself to form a mental image of the sister sitting in the classroom across the hall listening intently to the teacher setting the perfect example – for her.

Willow reflected on what she needed to do to stay focused on her work. She hoped she'd get a chance to write in her journal tonight before they headed over for the party. Willow looked at her watch for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. She couldn't wait for the day to end and the evening fun to begin. Another sugar high was definitely in order.

Willow and Tara sat across from each other during their lunch break. Willow had grabbed some salad and a sandwich and was currently struggling with a condiment package. Tara was looking over her selection and glancing occasional to monitor Willow's progress. Her rip/tear campaign had failed miserably. It looked like the packet was a little mangled, but holding strong after Willow tried to pry it open with her fingers. She had just finished trying to tear it with her teeth. Tara sensed her frustration. She could almost see Willow's brain at work as she looked for something to help her to free the mustard.

Her sugar high was officially over and she doubted if the pudding she'd grabbed would do much of anything. She grabbed the fork preparing to go another round with the miserable little mustard packet. No sooner had she picked up the packet and fork and placed the tine in the middle preparing to poke a hole in it, she felt a something warm and soft touch her arm. Looking up she gazed into the now familiar oceans of blue.

"I just don't have a good feeling about that maneuver." Tara looked into the sea green eyes searching hers in earnest. "I'd hate to see that pretty green sweater with a matching stain like mine on it. Here let me try. Dekimasu ka?" [May I do it?] Willow was feeling a little desperate and frankly hungry and if the Maclay thought she could best the little brat packet who was she to argue.

"Knock yourself out." Willow smiled and gently tossed it over to Tara. "This I have to see." Willow folded her arms across her chest and waited for the show to begin.

Tara picked up the little package and studied it. Willow had certainly made an impression on the rectangle but not enough to gain entry. Feeling the weight of Willow's stare, Tara carefully grasped the corner of the packet in between her fingers placing the edge of her fingers along either side of the manufacturers mark. Glancing up at Willow as she pulled gently in either direction she felt the packet give a little.

"It's about finesse." Tara was teasing now. "You just have to get it started and then the mustard is all yours." Her eyes twinkled as she watched Willow react. Gotcha.

Willow gasped quietly and held her breath. Okay, you need a good wholesome response, Willow.

"Umm,"

Oh, that's Brilliant!

"Umm…"

Okaaaay, that's just not good.

"See, now I'm all flustered and it's the mustard's fault."

Tara pretended to be distracted by her food. Oh gosh, she is just too adorable.

"What did the mustard do?" Tara looked over at Willow with a coy and seductive smile. She just couldn't help herself she just loved goading the redhead. Oh, now I've left a huge opening. She's not going to be able to say anything without it sounding very wrong. It's just so easy with her.

"Oh, that's so unfair; you know exactly what the mustard did. It was just in there waiting to be…"used" and the outside was impervious and then you came along and, and, and…oh fine…you win this round Miss Sister Maclay Shimai person."

"What?" Tara feigned innocence. She took a bite of her apple.

"Oh you know exactly what, what." Okay, she is officially evil and I think I'm really falling for her. She took another slow breath and completed her thought. God help me.

All of the girls seemed lost in thought and a little tired. It was Saturday. Sunday would alter their class schedules a little bit and then Monday it would be P-day. They would have four hours to accomplish all their preparations for the upcoming week. All Willow wanted to do now was sleep. Willow blinked slowly and glanced at her watch. Their second language class was almost over and they had a date with the other sisters.

Every day she felt more tired than the day before. This was the schedule, like it or not for the next eighteen months, so she needed to get used to it. No time outs for personal study, or a nap or just a little break; there would be no alone time, no music or television or movies or anything not related to the work. It was just her and her companion, a weekly planner and an occasional dinner appointment (DA) to break up the day's events. The training center was the only time she'd get a moment to enjoy the fellowship of so many others facing the same challenges. So tired or not, they would party.

Kitchen, Smith and Rosenberg showed up at Conley's room shortly after language let out. After the branch group sing, they had hurried through rain back to the dorms for a quick change into comfortable clothes. When they got there, Colson was giddy and had her camera out.

Despite the protests of several of the girls, she managed to talk them into a group photo. She lined all the girls up by hair color. Smith and Colson, the two lighter blondes, would take the ends – mostly because Colson was camera operator and soon to be owner of the photo. She was in charge. Kitchen and Conley sat beside their respective companions. Willow and Tara sat in the middle. Once she had everyone in a sitting position, she realized something just wasn't right.

"We're in our comfy clothes. Let's get cozy." She set the timer on the camera after several checks through the lens. "Okay, on the count of three everyone fall left and lie down. We have ten seconds before the shot." Ready? Onetwothreeee."

There was a chaotic chorus of unified yells: "Wait! No! Hang on! What? One lone voice rang out after the others: "Look out!"

Smith toppled left, Kitchen and Willow like dominoes they were falling, but the movement temporarily stopped as everyone watched in awe as Colson jumped back behind Conley.

Colson shouted out, "everyone get down." The rest of the domino sisters fell. "Okay now squoonch together."

Amazingly, the bunk held the weight, and after a lot of maneuvering, all six of the girls lined up in some semblance of a row. It was a tight fit.

The girls huddled together, stared at the camera, and started smiling.

No flash.

Kitchen still holding her smile tried not to move her lips. "What did you set it for?"

Colson replied in her ventriloquist impression, "Ten seconds. Keep smiling."

Tara had been afraid to breathe, but she inhaled after a moment. She was directly behind Willow and could smell the gentle fragrance of her shampoo. She was almost against Willow's back and Conley was snug up against her. With the pressure behind her, she was finding it hard not to fall forward. Moreover, she had nowhere to put her arm.

Willow could feel Tara behind her. The sensations were almost too much to take. She felt Tara's breath on her neck and it sent a pleasant shiver through her body. She could tell Tara was tense behind her almost as though she was struggling to keep an invisible barrier between them, but then she felt a change.

A tentative arm draped across her waist. It was a light touch at first, but soon she felt it relax. She nearly closed her eyes when she felt the body behind her rest and press against her back. She could feel the warmth radiate through her. She couldn't resist the urge to push back to feel the closeness and curves of Tara as she spooned behind her.

"Okay, I'm gonna check it." Colson got up and walked in front of the camera, just as the flash went off.

Another chorus, this time all the same note: "Oh."

"That's ok, we're gonna get it, just sit tight for one more second." Colson fiddled with the camera again.

"Well at least I can relax my face." Conley said as she started stretching out her jaw and face muscles.

Willow and Tara lay quietly…waiting.

Willow felt the arm around her waist tighten and the soft breasts and stomach mold into her back. She felt like Tara was everywhere. She was euphoric. She thought her eyes were going to roll into her head.

Colson broke the intensity, "Okay, I think I've got it. Everyone say…um…senkiyoshi" [missionary].

It was just a few moments and the flash went off.

Smith Shimai hopped off the bed and the others followed. Willow and Tara were last off the bed and they resumed their positions in a circle around the room on the floor.

When Tara finally glanced over at Willow, she was lost in the sea green eyes before her. Willow was looking at her with such intensity she felt like she couldn't breathe. They spoke without saying a word; their connection so intense there was no denying the power between them. Their gaze turned into a stare. Willow had to remind herself to breathe. It was as though she couldn't pull away from the ocean blue eyes. Tara was captivated as well and she couldn't move. Time stopped. The world stood still.

Click.

"Oh that was a good one." Colson had snapped a candid photo.

Neither girl knew what image Colson captured. They only knew that the one in front of them was permanently imprinted on their souls.

Part 9
Sweet Cheeks

"Cookies, I got cookies." Colson was elated and ready to share. "My mom sent me cookies today." Willow and Tara finally broke through the compelling force that seemed to lock their eyes together. They looked over at Colson who was still almost annoyingly cheerful.

"Oh!" Smith was delighted. "What kind?"

"Well she usually makes chocolate chip, but she uses M&M's instead."

Willow shot Tara a quick look and stifled a giggle. Tara returned the expression and then quickly ducked her head eyes behind her hair.

"Maclay got a box too, what'd ya get?" Colson's sat Indian style on the floor her knees bouncing up and down. She was just a few seconds short of lift off.

Tara was caught off guard. It was the first mail she'd received, and she knew that not everyone in the room had gotten something from home yet. Her eyes darted around the room looking at the expectant faces in front of her. "Oh, it was just a letter and some s-socks; it was kind of a gag gift."

"Oh, that's nice." Smith was weighing in. "Does your family think you have cold feet?"

Does she have to talk? Willow immediately felt defensive.

Kitchen jumped in to the rescue again, "I'm sure Tara would prefer keeping her feet off of our list of topics for the evening, especially when we're going to be eating cookies." She redirected her gaze back to Colson. When she caught her attention, she opened her eyelids slightly wider and silently conveyed to the sister it was time to start passing out the goodies.

Without a word, Colson bounced off the floor and grabbed the box that was on her study desk. She removed the lid, placed it back on the desk, and took the box full of cookies back to the circle of sisters on the floor. She smiled at each of the sisters as they selected their cookie from the box.

"Arigato." Conley said as she accepted her cookie.

See this is why I haven't gotten very good at this language stuff – I just don't think to do that. Willow chastised herself. "Arigato gozaimasu." She bowed her head toward the sister.

"Hai. Domo arigato, Korusan Shimai." Kitchen replied to Colson as well.

Tara accepted her cookie with two hands. "Arigato."

Willow was determined now. She held up the cookie. "Kore wa 'cookie' desu" [this is a cookie].

Tara laughed. "Hai, sore wa 'cookie' desu. [Yes, that is a cookie].

Conley started to laugh too. "Watakushitakushi wa 'cookies' ga arimasu" [We have cookies].

Colson busted out laughing. She quickly put down the box, picked up her sweater, and slowly put it on. Then she sat in her chair and looked at everyone in the room. "Won't you be my neighbor?"

"No, no, no, wrong show." Even Kitchen was playing now and in a low gravelly voice said: "Mmmm, watakushi wa 'cookies' ga ai shite imasu." [I love cookies] Then she took the cookie in one hand, shoved the whole thing in her mouth stuffing her cheeks full of cookie, and made sure to spill a few crumbs in the process.

The girls bellowed with laughter. Such behavior was simply unexpected from Sister Kitchen.

Conley looked intently at Kitchen and asked, "Anata wa "cookies" ga suki deshita ka, Cookie Monster san?" [