Chapter 8

With Annie-fay back in his life, talking constantly on the phone and periodically going out on dates with her, Walt Whitman was now quite confident and ready to tie the knot with her. He was so excited and began calling all over the globe inviting friends and relatives to attend the unveiling of the woman he had plans on marrying and for them to attend their engagement party. He was putting out the best cream of the crop just for her, because he wanted her to realize the significance of her presence in his life and how much he loved her.

Walt was very aware that Annie-fay was working for the weekend at the hospital and had plans on calling her late Monday morning. In the hours when he believed she had already rested and was able to speak with him. But after calling her house around mid-morning and hadn't gotten any response from her, he presumed that she was very tired and was till sleeping. So he waited for much later in the day to call her, and when he did, he still hadn't gotten any response from her phone.

But since she had disappeared to South Africa once before without his knowledge, he thought she might had done the same, this time around also. However, he failed to understand why she would have done so to him this time around when they weren't in a fight and their relationship was going very well.

"What would it have taken her to just pick up the phone and say to him I have to rush to South Africa now; because my parent needs me urgently?"

Walt Whitman questioned himself.

Something was very fishy and Walt Whitman wanted to get to the bottom of it!

Spearing himself not another second, he was on the telephone with his private investigator once again, seeking his help in finding out what was behind the sudden disappearance of his fiancée, Annie-fay Kafka; a nurse working at the Mount Kimble hospital where he was recently admitted for a gun-shot wound.

Hours later, Walt Whitman got word from his private investigator that there were no phone activities on Annie-fay telephone, calling South Africa, her job, or anywhere else in the world.

"Could she have fainted or suffered some form of ailment that kept her paralyzed in her apartment and in need of help, but couldn't get any, because she was unable to speak?"

Where the many questions on Walt Whitman's mind.

Since she had just returned to work and was working steadily on the pediatric unit, the private investigator thought it best to pay a visit to the hospital and see what he could find out there about the sudden disappearance of Annie-fay Kafka.

Was she sleeping at her workplace and was not going home for days like some nurses usually do, or was there something very tragic that had happened to her and she was in a state of constraint, unable to reach the civilized world?

But upon visiting the hospital, Walt Whitman private investigator heard the startling and tragic news that Annie-fay was indeed dead and also the circumstances that had led to her sudden death.

Everyone was talking in the medical community about the horrific act that had been done to the pediatric patient, the culprits who had done the gruesome act to her, and the nurse whose heart was too weak to stand the sight of it, causing her to suddenly collapse and die.

"Would Walt Whitman suffer the same fate as his darling fiancée after hearing the sudden news about her unfortunate passing?"

Those were the frightening concerns of the private investigator.

Calling Walt Whitman Tuesday morning, the private investigator greeted him with a sense of great enthusiasm, as if, everything was all fine and dandy, stating to him that he would like to come by his house and sit with him for a few minutes and discuss his findings.

"Whatever, you have found out, please feel free to tell me over the telephone!"

Walt Whitman responded.

"Mr. Whitman, this is my job, and I just want to sit with you and go over some possibilities that might or could have occurred to the subject you have hired me to investigate for you. Please, I really don't want to discuss this sort of thing over the telephone."

The P.I. instructed.

"Have you found her with another man? Has she flown back to South Africa to bury her father? Is she married to another man in Africa? What is it?"

Were the cold-hard questions that kept rolling off Walt Whitman's tongue!

Folding his lips and shaking his head as the thought of the truth ramble through his head and touched his heart, the P.I. replied.

"Mr. Whitman, it's none of the above."

"Alright then, come over and lets discuss it... you have the address and you know how to find me! I'll see you when you arrive here; I'll be here, I'm not going anywhere!"

Walt Whitman stated with great assurance.

Sitting on his grand sofa seat, he wander what could possibly be the circumstances that caused his private investigator to want to speak with him on a one-on-one bases? He just couldn't phantom in his mind that his sweet darling Annie-fay had gone to the ice-box, and he would never be able to show her off at their engagement party or to his friends and family, ever.

While resting on the sofa, Walt Whitman thought about every other scenario that could have happened except for the circumstances of death. And now he was accommodating thoughts on how he would use his money and rectify the problems Annie-fay was involved in so he could move forward with her by his side.

If, she had stolen drugs from the hospital and shipped it back to Africa to aid her parent, he was willing to stand in the gap for her.

If, she wasn't performing her job like she should have had, he was willing to allow her to stop working, stay home with him and Marx and probably start something new and different together.

A tumultuous amount of ideas were unfolding in his mind as he rested himself on the sofa, and so too were the solution for each and every one of the troubles she might have had found herself into. However, the news would be coming at his doorsteps shortly. And only then he would be able to realize that there was nothing that he could actually do about it; with or without his millions.

Thirty-five minutes later, the private investigator was at his front door knocking, and quickly he leaped from the sofa to answer the call at the door.

"Come on in and have a seat, Mr. Richards!"

Walt Whitman advised.

"Thank you, Sir!"

The P. I. replied.

"Anything to drink; water, juice, whiskey, beer, soda?"

Walt Whitman offered nervously.

"Water will do, thank you, very much Sir!"

Mr. Richard responded kindly.

Bringing back, the medium size bottle of water from the kitchen, Walt Whitman handed it to Mr. Richard and then took a seat beside him on the large sofa chair.

Opening the bottle, barely taking his first sip of water from the bottle, Mr. Richard began breaking down the very sad and tragic news about what had happened to Annie-fay the new love of Walt Whitman's life.

Walt Whitman was hearing what he was saying, but he sure as hell wasn't quite listening, because he only wanted him to get to the point, and stop beating around the bush with him.

It wasn't until Walt Whitman was agitated and ready to throw his private investigator through his front door that he would blurt out the truth.

"Why are you wasting my time with all these Anansi Stories, about little girl, and criminal, and people are talking all over the place... people talking about what?"

Walt Whitman shouted.

"Sir, Annie-fay collapsed at the hospital and died on the hospital floor three nights ago, after witnessing the gang rape of one of her pediatric patients!"

Shaking, shivering and soaking in sweat, Walt Whitman shouted. "What?"

As his hands kept on moving from one place of his body to the next as though, someone was pricking him with a needle and he was preventing them from doing so.

"Who killed her?"

Walt Whitman asked sternly.

"No one killed her, Mr. Whitman! She collapsed and died; she was in a terribly state of shock!"

The P.I. replied nervously as he watch the expression on his client face change from pleasant to gruesome.

He now was sitting with his hands above his head as cold sweat washed his entire body! He want to scream out sorrowing tears, but his ego or the prideful statue in him wouldn't allow him!

His mouth was becoming dryer and dryer, the tears were coming, creeping up behind his eye-balls slowly, and were ready to burst forth from that mysterious place behind the eyes!

His throat was shrinking, as if, someone had held a piece of cloth around it and was squeezing the life out of him!

He was ready to let life go from him and joined her in the grave, but something in his brain reminded him that he had a son who needed him now!

Barely, opening his eyes, he grab the bottle water from the private investigator hands, twisted the cork and began sucking at the nipples of the bottle until some realization of life had hit him!

Now he was bawling... old time dramatic bawling that would bring down the entire Hillcrest Drive community at his door-step! And they did come, starting with Marx and Eleanor who were across the street just hanging out!

Soon, other neighbors from the bottom of the street showed up on the Whitman's property – at doorstep enquiring about what was the onset for such a commotion!

Little Marx thought his father was losing in mind again like he had done around eight weeks ago when he fell from the ladder and hit his head on a rock!

But, Eleanor suspected that it was something different this time after seeing the stranger sitting on the sofa chair trying to comfort her neighbor.

Fired up and ready to save the day, Eleanor turned to the stranger and sternly asked.

"Who are you? What are you doing here? And why is Walt crying like he was being sent to the firing squad to be executed for a crime he hadn't committed?"

She wanted answers and she wanted them now!

Removing his identification from his jacket pocket, Richard Dyer showed her his badge and informed her that he was employed by Mr. Whitman to put a trail on someone who he considered dear to him, and he had just gotten some grievous news that the person he was hired to investigate had an unexpected fate with death.

Quickly, Eleanor began clapping her hands like she was Madam Whitman and began ushering the other neighbors and onlookers to leaves the house so Walt Whitman could have some time alone. A private moment to deal with the heartbreaking news that had just hit his hearing, even though, she had no clue who the person he was grieving over was or what they had meant to him.

Nosy like a bluebottle fly, Eleanor called Richard Dyer to the kitchen and began pressing him with questions, trying to get out of him the name of the person who had died and was causing her neighbor, Walt Whitman, so much heartache and grieve.

But him being a true professional, told her that he was unable to tell her anything about such situation, because such was against his professional quote of ethics, and if she really wanted to know anything about that person, she would have to go and find out from his client, Mr. Whitman, herself.

Recognizing his directness and also his professionalism, Eleanor walked herself back to the living room and took her position beside Walt Whitman; wrapping her arms around him and began rocking him like he was a baby.

Walt Whitman was hurting and all broken down, but he was still able to stand up for himself. And knowing where Eleanor's soothing actions would leading to, so he angrily took the bottle of water that he had taken from Mr. Richard's hands and had also drank some of it, and sprayed it in Eleanor's face as he angrily announced.

"How many damn times must I tell you, I'm not interest in you and I don't want you coming over here and interfering in my life?"

"And who the hell told you that I want you?"

Eleanor fired back, even though, it was a sure lie she was pitching from her tongue.

She wanted to comfort him, hold him, hug on him, or even take him to his bedroom and wrapped her arms around him and kissed him lovingly, if he would have just given her such a chance.

Right now, Walt Whitman was hurting severely and needed to be completely alone, so he could work out by himself what would be his next move, concerning the loss of his woman and the person he was hoping to spend his eternity with.

And in his moment of aloneness, Walt, wanted to find out how to get to Annie-fay's parent and relatives in South Africa; so he could assist them with the preparation of her final rest. Especially since he had plants on marrying her, he wanted to be a part of her burial activities, and so again, he asked his P.I. to gathered such inquiries and submit such to him.

But would Annie-fay's parent and relatives accept his financial offer and his interference in the ceremonial burial of their precious daughter and loved one.

Richard Dyer had gotten some of the information he needed from Annie-fay's place of work and some, he had to jump on a plane and travel all the way to South Africa to find out the details about this woman who Walt Whitman loved and the plans for her burials. At the expense of Walt Whitman. But when he had enter the village of Durban, and began enquiring around about Annie-fay and her time of burial, he was shock but not very surprise to learn that her body wouldn't be returning to South Africa until around a month's time. Because her husband had flown to the State to identify her body and have it shipped back to South Africa for the burial.

The private investigator had also learnt that she had been married for three years and it was possible that she was expecting her first child with her husband. While some villagers had it to say that she was there recently to break off the relationship with husband because she had found a wealthy American man who truly loved her and wanted to marry her.

But Dyer was being paid to get all the facts and all the details about Annie-fay's burial, and if she was indeed married to another man. So he found out exactly where her parent were living in the village of Durban and set up a meeting with them.

There he learnt that she was indeed already married, however, according to her mother, she was thinking about a divorce which was something that didn't easily came by in their culture. Because she had to give good and legitimate reasons why she wanted to split from the union.

And although, she might have wanted a divorce from her husband, now that she is dead, it would be her husband's responsibility to arrange and have her buried according to their customs. But if she was indeed pregnant by her husband, the mother stated that she really wasn't certain about that information so she couldn't speak on it.

What was even more mysterious, was when her father told Robert Dyer, the private investigator that his daughter hadn't come to South Africa because he was sick, because he hadn't been sick in many years, and anyone in the village could honestly attest to that fact.

Hearing all these details pertaining to Annie-fay Kafka personal life, Robert Dyer informed Walt Whitman about all that he had learnt down in South Africa about the woman whom he had had his heart set on marrying, his love interest, and the mysteriousness or the unanswered questions behind her life.

Robert also informed Mr. Whitman that Annie-fay's r husband was in the State right now, as they were speaking. And he was there to identify his wife's body and ship it back to South Africa, and would never accept a penny from anyone for his wife burial, except, it was from their immediate family members.

Walt Whitman couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Annie-fay was already married?"

He exclaimed.

"And carrying a child?"

He continued.

Walt was now lost for words and perceived his entire relationship with her as a lie!

"But, if she was seeking a divorcement from her husband, then their lives together wasn't a complete lie. That told him that she loved him and wanted to make their relationship right for them and their future together."

Walt analyzed to himself.

"What kind of an idiot would have allow his beautiful wife to be alone in a country like this, all by herself working?"

Walt vented.

Now he was thinking what he could possible do to commemorate – memorialize her death and give some meaning to the love they had shared together.

In his moment of anticipating, reflecting and pondering, he came up with a brilliant idea, and decided to commit himself to it, having it executed in honor of Annie-fay's death. So he gathered up all the money he wanted to pay for her engagement ring, the amount he had intended on giving to her as his wedding present to her, along with a portion of the money he was planning on using to purchase a house for themselves in the tropic or back in South Africa.

And all the money he planned on donating it to the young girl who had been sexually assaulted badly by the criminal elements who were staying in the hospital at the time; causing him to lose his darling friend and also his soon to be wife, Annie-fay.

Walt Whitman was madly in love with her, and whether she was married or not to another man, or she was carrying another man's baby, he wanted to carry out this act of generosity to memorialize her friendship and her death in his life.

An hour later, Mr. Whitman sat down, wrote a letter to the hospital pertaining to his intention of aiding the child with her hospital bills and the therapy she would be needing in future years to help her move forward in her life.

Less than six weeks later, the man who had lost what he called his heart beat, did well on that offer, aiding the child with her hospital bills and her future therapy sessions. As television and radio media, politicians, other dignitaries along with the child's parent crowded the hospital conference room to witness this heartwarming and generous presentation to the little girl. Leaving not a dry eye in the conference room.

In the team of generosity, Walt Whitman spoke a bit further about his dear friend Annie-fay and how loving and wonderful she was about the children she cared for in the pediatrics unit. He also went a bit further by having a plaque made to commemorate her service in the pediatrics department with her picture at the top and name inscribe in gold at the bottom of it which would be placed on the walls in the corridors of the pediatric ward of the hospital.

With his heart contented about his good deeds, he was readying to move forward into making decision for a new life, not a new life of tying himself down with another beautiful woman, but with sharing precious moments with his son, friends, and some relatives living in the far distance.

He decided on travelling abroad, visiting his uncle, nephews and cousins and had plans on bringing Marx along with him so he too could get to know his distance relatives better as well.

And for four months, Walt and Marx closed the doors to their cozy dwelling space, and went on an exciting voyage. Travelling in and out of the country to almost everywhere that he was aware of having some form of relative or friends living whom he hadn't seen in a very long time.

Upon returning from his travelling and his exploring of Europe, California and Australia to visit friends and family, Walt Whitman thought it was right time to get his son Marx registered in a formal education system.

After exhaustingly visiting several schools all over Orange County, trying to determine which school he believed would be best to facilitate the needs of his son and his early stages of learning, Walt Whitman's eyes caught one of the mothers who had also brought her child at one of the schools to be registered.

Immediately after he had seen her, his skin began sweating, his heart began pounding faster and faster, and he just couldn't get his eyes from off her. He wanted to know her name, if she was married, and where she was living; but he was a bit reluctant, thinking it was too early to start pursuing anyone else since Annie-fay passing had only been around seven months now.

But his heart was telling him otherwise.

And since he saw this mother registering her child there at the Emanuel Prep School, he too was willing and ready to register Marx there also, whether the school had met his standard or not.

She seemed confident as if, she had done this kind of a thing before, and ho, she had a very beautiful face that excited him and just as beautiful a smile to match that could light up any room even in the darkest of nights. She was only wearing a T-shirt and a pair of jeans with her hair comb up in a bun and a pony-tale swinging at her neck and occasionally on her shoulders.

He began envisioning her elegantly dressed with make-up on, and how winningly gorgeous she would have looked as a person, and also on his strong arms.

Walt desperately wanted to meet her!

He wanted to know everything about her and in his mind he had already spoke her into existence that she is definitely the one for him.

Keeping his eyes on her, she looked up suddenly and could feel that he was staring at her, as he shyly turned his face away, not wanting to appear too obvious with his stares on her.

Would she shun him or drive him away, if he walked over to where she was standing and introduce himself to her?

It was worth a try, and he decided to go for it!

With Marx clinging onto his trousers, Walt Whitman took that sudden leap of fate and made his move.

She could see that he was heading towards her, but wasn't sure what he wanted from her, however, in the moment she presumed that he probably wanted to ask her questions about the school and its operation like most new parent usually seek out enquiries from those they presumed were already experienced with the systems of the school.

Not taking his eyes off her and inch, Walt Whitman walked over to her and introduce himself and Marx.

"I'm Walt Whitman and this is my son Marx! I want to register him here at this school, but I'm not too sure about all the details or the reputation of the school. Could you give me a little insight about your experience sending your children here?"

Walt Whitman enquired.

He wanted to go for the kill, but, all eyes were staring into his mouth like he had a truck load of diamonds glistening on his teeth.

His real intentions were to ask her, her name, and if she was already taken, after making his introduction to her and giving her his name and also Marx's name. But, with all eyes gazing in his direction, he patiently stood there and listen to her telling him about how great the school is and how her sister would never send her children to no other prep school but this one.

"Sorry, I didn't get your name!"

Walt Whitman finally interjected.

"Ho, I'm sorry, I just realized that you had given me your name and I didn't pay you the same curtesy! I'm Antsy-Ann Williams... I'm very sorry about that! Please forgive my bad manners!"

She apologized repeatedly; realizing how she had been filling him with details about his question about the school and completely ignoring the fact that he had mentioned his name to her, and how it was very impolite not to have done the same in return.

Minutes later, she was extending her right hand to him and shaking his, as she questioned him about why this had been Marx's first time in formal education setting.

"I had lost his mother, and I just wanted him home with me for a while. But, he is grown a bit, and I think now is the right time for him to make that step and be settled in a formal school atmosphere. Nevertheless, he is a pretty bright boy, and he knows all his ABCs, how to count up to one hundred and how to spell most three letter words!"

Walt Whitman divulged proudly.

Eagerly trying to find out more about the woman standing next to him, Marx father turned to the voluptuous beauty standing in his presence and ask right away.

"So how many of your own children do you have coming here to this school?"

Looking at him, revealing neither happiness nor sadness, on his face, Antsy-Ann pleasantly replied.

"I don't have any biological children of my own, but since the passing of my sister, all her children were awarded into my custody, making me a microwave mama... instant mother material without any instructions! But I'm learning as I go along how to deal with each one of them and their individual personality!"

Now, Walt Whitman was the one repeatedly apologizing as he rested his hands on Antsy-Ann's shoulders and told her how very sorry he was about the loss of her sister and the difficult situation she must now find herself in raising four young children.

Smilingly she explained to him that everything she does now has to be a schedule, and at times like these is when the schedules can get messy because she has to stand in line and wait for the personnel department of the school to interview her and then agree whether or not to accept the child into the school. Still, while she has to go by another school district to get the two older children from that school and bring them home.

The other difficult times were dealing with doctor's appointments and the long wait she would have to go through, even when she had already schedule an appointment with them beforehand. But apart from those two scenarios, she was handling everything pretty well.

Subtle and suave, in his queries, Walt Whitman asked.

"Your husband must lend you a helping hand sometime with these children, especially the boys?"

Without realizing it, Antsy-Ann was standing there talking, dishing out all her personal affairs to a complete stranger

"To be truthful with you, I'm doing it all by myself! The only other person who is helping me out is god almighty, because he gives me strength to get up each morning and deal with all these ups and downs that I need to face each day! And whenever I'm done taking care of all these children at nights, and rest my head on my pillow, I'm quit thankful for everything! Probably, if I had a man in the picture, things might have been worse-off, instead of better!"

Antsy-Ann sternly divulged.

Everything was now rolling in Walt Whitman's direction and he was getting all the information that he could, about this beautiful woman who had caught his eyes at the Emmanuel Prep School where he had plans on enrolling his son for the new school term.

He had gotten her name!

He had found out that she was a single woman raising four children left into her custody by her diseased sister. However, he hadn't gotten her phone number or where she was living at the moment. And so he began hoping that he would keep her indulge in more investigative conversations until he could obtain more personal information from her, about where she was now living. Before the principal at the school called either one of their names to interview them for the registration of their child; automatically causing their connections to quickly become a thing of the past.

But, Walt didn't want to come straight-out and asked her where she was living or for her to just give him her phone number; because he thought such was too imposing and too forward for him to be doing.

So tactfully and quickly he gave her one of his phone numbers and told her to call him if she ever needed to talk or wanted a hand with the boys, seeing that he also had a son who might need the company of playing with other boys his age.

Antsy-Ann, thought it was nice of him to have extended himself to her in such manner and so she wrote his telephone number on the envelope of one of her utility bills while she suggested to him that she would definitely take him up on that.

Walt had made his move just in the heck of time, because just as Antsy-Ann had put the envelope back into her hand-bag, her name was called for her to enter the room and sit with the principal of the school for her interview. So they could determine if this was the right school to have her nephew register in for the upcoming school term.

It was a very prestigious and well talked about prep school which her sister had sent her two elder children to, before she died, and had spoken highly of it. And just like Antsy-Ann, Walt Whitman was hoping that his son Marx had met the school criteria and would be accepted there.

Forty-five minutes later, she was out of the school principal office smiling with her nephew's book list and his acceptance latter in her hands.

"He got in!!!"

Antsy-Ann exclaimed loudly so the onlookers could hear her.

And just as she was about to stand and chat with Walt Whitman a while longer, sharing with him the various questions that were asked of her, the principal of the school came at the door and called Walt Whitman's name. Shortly, he and Marx entered the principal office, expressed a friendly hello before taking his seat.

There wasn't much that he needed to say about himself to the principal; because she remember seeing him on television donating huge sums of money to aid that poor child who had been sexually assaulted at the hospital. Briefly, they spoke on the issue. But, she wanted to learn more about his son Marx Whitman and his early childhood academics – how much he had already accomplish in his stages of early education since this was his first time entering any form of education system. Without hesitation, Walt Whitman told her that he was able to count from one to one-hundred, easily, and he could spell most three letter words on his own.

With that information given to her, she gave Marx a book and told him to call out the words that he recognized, and he did so in flying colors. Satisfied with what she had observed with the boy, she considered Marx Whitman a good candidate for her school program; so now he too was in!

His father was then given a book list, naming all the books he would be needing for the school term along with his letter of acceptance. So he would have it to present to whomever would be the one enrolling him in the school on the first week of September, and also directing him to his classroom on his first day of school.

Leaving the principal's office, Walt Whitman shook the principal hand, and graciously thank her for seeing his son as a fit candidate for the Emmanuel Prep School. Before exiting her office door, smiling and giving his son a high-five, to be accepted in one of the most prestigious schools, as they walk out the door of the principal office.

Making his way to the parking lot, he once again, ran into Antsy-Ann, and immediately after seeing her, he wave his acceptance letter in the air, indicating to her that his son had gotten accepted into the best school around town.

Smiling, or over-joyed as it seemed, she gave him a thumbs-up and shouted at him.

"Congratulations!!!!"

Walt Whitman, with curved lips happily shouted back at her.

"Thank you!!!"

But, he didn't want her to get away from him without getting her phone number from her, although, he had already given her his phone number less than two hours ago. He wanted hers in his hands because he feared she might have lost his and he would never get that well expected and long awaited call from her.

Rushing up to her car, he kindly asked.

"Hi Antsy-Ann, since our kids are going to be attending the same school together, may I have your phone number?"

She paused for a moment, she was cautious, it was just too early to be giving out her phone number to a complete stranger.

But, Walt Whitman spoke, giving her valuable reasons why he needed it – her phone number.

"Just in case, something comes up, and my son might need a ride to school from you; you and I never know what can happened!"

Walt Whitman stated.

Antsy-Ann glance at the acceptance letter in his hand, thought his reason made some sense, and shortly she made a decision and began blurting out her telephone digits to the tall handsome white man she had just met. A white man who had a black boy with pretty, but very strange looking blue eyes, claiming to be his son.

Filled with elation, he thanked her for giving him her phone number, and jokingly, he told her that he was going to make sure, that he put it in a very safe place that not even the FBI could ever find it; because having her number was like having a piece of gold in his possession during hard times, since it would always help him recover from his financial demise or downfall during rough times.

With her phone number now safely tucked away in his wallet, Walt Whitman waved to her a haughty good-bye while she honked the horn to her motor vehicle and drove out of the school parking lot.

All smiles were now written on Walt Whitman's face as he and Marx returned to his waiting vehicle and began making their way back to Hillcrest Drive. Thinking only of the woman he had just met at the Emmanuel prep school that he was seriously dreaming and wanting to be his future wife.

Upon reaching home, Walt parked his car at the front of the house before he and Marx entered, and soon after entering the house, he fed his son and then when to his bedroom to relax in his tub, filed with warm bubbling water. It was one of his favorite pass-time when he didn't have any special activities with his son or any form of important business meetings wherever he was summoned to have one.

In his moment of rejuvenating his muscles, relaxing his mind and letting the music drench his soul, Walt Whitman sat in the tub and thought about the life he wanted with his new love interest. And as his thoughts slowly took control of him, he wanted to forget any relationship or courtship protocol or etiquettes and give her a telephone ring right away; just letting her know exactly how he was feeling about her. But he allowed his heart and his emotions to suffer a while longer before picking up the phone and really began broadcasting to her what were his true intensions towards her, and would she agree to have him as her spouse.

And within a week after meeting Antsy-Ann Williams, most of his nerves, jittering feelings and anxiety had subsided, and he was once again ready to go for the chase, and give love a chance once more!

Feeding himself full, and sipping on some red wine to take away the edge or some of the nervousness off him a little, Walt Whitman sat in his bedroom, and eagerly he dialed the phone number Antsy-Ann had given him. He was somewhat timid to call her, especially, since she hadn't taken the time to call him like she had promised him that she would.

It was the fourth ring before she picked up the phone and when she had done so, she immediately recognized his voice and how they had met.

"I was expecting your call, but since you hadn't call me first, I decided to do the honors!"

Walt Whitman expressed.

"I'm not going to lie to you, Walt, but I've been busy getting these kids uniforms ready for school, I don't even remember some of the names of the persons that I need to call back!"

Antsy-Ann replied.

"I can understand that, especially since you have four of them to take care of!"

Walt stated sympathetically.

"Well, I'm not going to beat around the bush with you, I love you, a lot, I would like for us to start dating? Say yes to our blessing, or, I would like to hear you say; ‘You will give us a try!' because from I laid my eyes on you, darling, I know, you are the woman for me!"

Walt expressed softly buy convincingly.

And without an ounce of hesitancy, Antsy-Ann replied.

"Yes, I'll give us a try!"