Desperately Seeking Susan

**Atari Twilight:** **Twist of Fate**

**Desperately Seeking Susan**

We currently exist in the dusk time, the half-light between ages. The end of the ’80s loomed ahead of our heroes. Many truths were revealed. Yet some questions still go unanswered. Families and friends separated, marooned in space and time. Our friends the Keystone Kids triumphed and managed to bring down the veil in Garret. The repercussions of this span out like a wave throughout the multiverse.

Not too far away someone close to one of their number begins to stir as if awakening to rise like a lion after slumber. They begin to recollect strange occurrences, from a forgotten childhood, from another life. An astounding tale of Lions Witches and Wardrobes.

With the aid of Gene Tyler, Madeline Bozzio and the dedication of the FBI’s missing persons task force, one family is about to be reunited a scant few hours from Garrett in Bethesda Maryland.

A Sleek black car pulled to a halt on the paved driveway of a mansion in the federal style in a wealthy suburb of Bethesda, Shutters on every window and marble door and window frames. The two things fit together like puzzle pieces, the luxury car and the opulent home. Heather Jones in the passenger seat didn’t feel like she fit in this picture. A scruffy teenager dressed for comfort in all black from the middle of nowhere upstate. Director Tyler and Agent Bozzio had assured her this was indeed the home of her Great Aunt Susan Pevensie.

*We Belong* by *Pat Benetar* finished on the car’s CD player, just to prove that Gene listened to more than *The Go-Go’s,* and was pretty cool for an old timer*.*A faint thwacking sound could be heard from around the side of the house. There was a very odd-looking long *Rolls Royce* car, with custom coachwork that made it look like a station waggon. It was being waxed in front of the garage here on *Morning Glory Circle*. A van was parked a respectful distance from the car *J Torrence and Son Auto Valeting* was sign written upon the side*.*

“We’ll go in when you’re good and ready kid.”

Gene exuded confidently from the driving seat of his plushly upholstered car. It had looked good from the outside but riding in it was like being on a big comfy cloud. This Lincoln was truly Dearborn Michigan's answer to the Luck Dragon of *The Never Ending Story.*

In front of them on the driveway, Madeline Bozzio rested her Indian Chief Motorcycle on its custom kickstand, removing her helmet and gloves and resting them on the warm tank. shaking out her wayward mane of blonde hair. This was her favourite kind of Missing person job. Reuniting a family whether Narnian royalty or not. She thought of her own happily ever after and in this moment, reuniting her own Mother and Father felt achievable. If they could reunite the Pevensie family, maybe, they could find a way to bring Lucca Bozzio back from wherever *The Loop* had cast him.

Heather drew a deep breath into her small body. Why was this so terrifying? She’d faced down *Pennywise* and *Randall Flagg*. Why was meeting her own Great Aunt, such a tall order? Is it because she might not be the sort of Literary heroine made flesh she expected? Was she expecting an older version of her new friend Mads? Still, how could any of this be her life? The FBI here to reunite her with her real family, she’d fantasised about this with tears down her face so many times. Heather clutched Kitty, her Lion plush close to her. Mr Tyler had seen him and just offhandedly suggested that Lion might like a ride out. He made it seem as if it were totally normal for fourteen years olds to have a childhood toy with them.

The gentle thwack thwack sound from the side yard continued, sprinklers on the impossibly green lawn came on at the front of the house, as the auto detailer got out a powered buffer and it added to the medley of sounds. Heather finally reached for the door pull, as she did Mr Tyler jumped out of the car putting his hat on, and his blazer in one fluid motion. Before Heather could overthink any further she was caught up in the wake of the two federal agents and on the porch of the impressive red brick house. Heather reached up to her non-lion carrying hand of her own accord and pressed the brass bell button. Caught up in the air of confidence that her companions exuded.

“Around the side” called a voice in a very cut-glass British accent, she sounded like the Queen of England to Heather.

Tyler, Bozzio and Heather rounded the house through the open doors of an elaborate Georgian style hothouse full of exotic flora, through it, and into the side yard. Which housed a full archery range. A woman who couldn’t possibly be over sixty stood by a wicker target at the far end, pulling out arrows from around the bullseye. She was gorgeous. She looked like *Dianna Rigg* in the Bond Movie a *View To A Kill* even in her archery clothes, a simple long sleeves T-shirt and leggings.The various leather braces and supports looked like armour on her slight build. Her hair was far shorter than Heather expected, with just the tiniest hints of silver grey, it had been almost ankle length in the books. Now it was quite the opposite.

“Mrs Susan Helen MacLoud, mained name Pevensie? My name is Deputy Director Gene Tyler with the FBI, we spoke on the phone, this is my colleague Supervisory Special Agent Madeline Bozzio, we have someone here who’d very much like to meet you.”

Tyler was first to speak, Mads was about half a step behind him accustomed to letting *The Old Man* as she called him, take the lead. Mads was trying not to well up, and destroy her badass reputation.

“Oh my, my darling, you look the very spitting image of how I did at that age. Come here, let me look at you.”

Susan beckoned Heather over, such a warm disarming smile.

“I take it I have you to thank in part, if not entirely for my restored memories, I had barely touched a bow nor pulled back a bowstring until a few months ago. Not for forty years, then suddenly I’m back at it.”

She smiled this easy smile of perfect white teeth.

Mads Bozzio looked over the target, clearly impressed the yellow had almost been obliterated.

“You’re quite the shot”

Mads compliment

“Thank you my dear if I hadn’t become distracted by my rampaging teenage hormones, and riding on motorcycles with boys. I might have gone to the London Olympics in ‘48, but that was another life.”

“Maybe you should have skipped the boys, and bought a Brough Superior.”

Mads suggested

“I think you’re entirely right there. Took my young self some time to work that out.”

It seemed Susan had immediately taken a shine to everyone here.

She laid a hand on Mads huge leather-clad shoulder. As if she didn’t have to reach up about half a foot.

“Do come in, I baked a cake, not often I have visitors. Coffee? I have a wonderful french blend.”

They were ushered into a very orderly looking kitchen even if it was three times the size of the one Heather was accustomed to, by a woman who would probably be considered by high society to be the very model of a perfect hostess. Gene and Dale immediately gave them as much space as the large kitchen allowed.

“Well, I’m so glad for this unexpected reunion. I didn’t know that I had any family at all, well any this side of a wardrobe.”

Heather rested Lion on one of the seats of the breakfast bar next to her. She felt that nothing could keep this woman from making conversation, she seemed to be an expert at pleasantries. To her amazement, her Aunt turned from her french press and kettle to look directly at the lion. Addressing him as she would any other person.As if she could see him as his real self despite his current short stature.

“Well this old boy, must be one of Aslan’s kin, it’s in the eyes and the main, well don’t stand on ceremony my dear chap, feel free to stretch your legs, you’re amongst family here.”

Without thinking Heather put lion down on the marble floor and in the blink of an eye there he was five feet of large adult African lion appeared in the middle of the kitchen floor. Heather’s FBI escort didn’t bat an eye.

“Kitty”

Heather reaches up and hugs him, nuzzling his glorious mane.

*“Queen Susan The Gentle. as I Live and Breath, It is my Honour”*

Lion bows down on his forelegs

“No need to stand on ceremony my dear old chap, would you like a few Rib Eye steaks?”

Nothing phased *Her* Aunt Susan, did it?

Susan kisses lion on his nose. If it was possible for a lion to blush he would have.

“They’re particularly good”

Susan assured. Scratching him behind the ear.

It was rare that Kitty ate because much like his literary feline cousin *The Tiger who Came to Tea,* food barely touched the sides. One of the consequences of being a mythical creature eating earthly food.

“I’m so sorry it’s just been you and Kitty for so long. I wasn’t even aware you were on our side, and to add insult to injury I’ve been living here completely oblivious just two and half hours away.”

Susan turned to grab a towel before she did something she would consider entirely ungallant and unbecoming and cry in front of company.

Heather took her Aunt's hand, perfectly manicured short nails.

“Aunt Susan, even I didn’t know who I was until not long ago. I thought Kitty was my childhood imaginary friend. That Narnia was some game I played as a child”

The hand holding became a tender embrace.

“I know my dear, It just doesn't make things any easier. I feel like I haven’t had a family for forty years. Yes, I’ve had a husband or two, but not children of our own, for reasons I shan’t go into now. I’ve lived a full life, I just wish that more of the last fourteen years had included you. Because you needed me, now you’re all grown up.”

There was such a tinge of sadness in her voice. She’d overcome so much in her long life. Been the sole survivor of a railway disaster that claimed her whole family in 1949. Just like in the books. Yet Susan’s story hadn’t ended. Here she was in her Kitchen in Bethesda Maryland.

“We’ve got time now, I want to know everything about you.”

Was this what her family was really like? Where almost every adult thought you were a kid to be treated like a young woman, by all the adults here felt like a revelation.

“And I, you. As I’ve said, It has been a very full life, this may take some time, you may want an *Orangina* or you’ll get a dry mouth talking to this old windbag. ”

Susan gave her niece a reassuring wink. Even the soft drinks around here were imported and french. Her Aunt immediately regained her composure and all maudlin thoughts were put to one side as she busied herself putting on a High Tea level, huge spread of cakes and sandwiches and tenderising four steaks the size of most tabletops for a very grateful Lion.