Who Were the Sea Peoples?

--> We are done! Table of Contents Epilogue Such upheavals may clear the air like a summer thunderstorm, but beneath the agitation, the knowing faculty remains confined. Space is full and time used up; history is an ever-heavier burden. -- Tarthang Tulku, Love of Knowledge Saturday, Nov. 14, 2:30 PM Captain Muller had scoffed at her suggestion that they keep the case open and try to justify a conspiracy-to-commit-murder charge against Alvin. “We have a deathbed confession, and two murders to put in the solved column. Because the confessed murderer thinks some kid from the projects is Satan and he was possessed by him, we’re going to waste more resources on this? Can you imagine how much the prosecutor’s office will appreciate our bringing them a charge of ‘Satanic influence’? You got your man, Detective. Now let it go. I don’t doubt your word that Blaine was a part of this, but we’ve got nothing, nothing on him at all.” When she had brought up the matter of Ariel’s d...

--> Table of Contents Sunday, 3:00 PM Deirdre pulled up along the curb by Alvin’s housing project, and saw him holding court on the stoop of his building with his posse yet again. Within a minute he spotted her sitting in the car. She heard him say, “Yeah, my bitch here again,” and then he sauntered over to the car. She looked up at him with a dazed expression, and a huge grin broke out across his face. “So, you finally figured it out, huh?” She nodded numbly. “So, let’s have a talk, right?” She nodded again, and Alvin opened the passenger door and slid into the seat next to her. “But we ain’t gonna talk here: We’re gonna take a little ride.” “No, Alvin, let’s talk here.” He put his hand into the pocket of his hoodie, and from inside the pocket she could see protruding the shape of a gun. “No, we gonna go talk somewhere else. In fact, I think we gonna go up West Rock. You love it up there, right, DeeDee?”

Table of Contents Saturday, 7:00 PM Deirdre was back in the New West Café, in her favorite bar stool. She had hesitated about that choice: it was, after all, the place she had met Juanita, and she wasn’t anxious to run into her again at the moment. But based on the principle that you can run, but you can’t hide, she decided that if she was meant to meet her tonight, she would not be like some Greek tragic hero who brings about his fate by trying to dodge it: meet it head on! The bartender, Jimmy, not having a drink order to fill for a moment, wandered to Deirdre’s end of the bar. He was an incurable but harmless flirt, and he leaned forward, putting his elbows on the bar, and batted his eyes at her playfully. “So, how are you tonight, Deirdre?” “I’ve been better.” “What’s wrong?” “Well, among other things, somebody killed my cat.”