“You need good food and I've brought it to you. Hold the screen door for me," Ursula said, going back to an even more disreputable station wagon than Jane's.
In a moment she was back with a large paper carton that she started unloading on Jane's kitchen counter.
“Hominy," she said of a covered dish she slapped down. "Lots of nutrients. Some dandelion greens from my own yard, barely cooked so the vitamins are still in them. Be sure to drink the juice. Tons of calcium and potassium. Good for broken bones."
“Uh… Ursula, I'm planning to have hamburgers for dinner."
“Meat?" Ursula was stunned. "I didn't think anyone actually ate meat these days. The government demands that so many cancer-causing chemicals are in it."
“I think you might have that backwards. The government tries to make the farmers take out the chemicals," Jane said, examining the dandelion greens, which seemed to have a good many foreign objects that looked like insects cooked up with the greens. She hoped they were just flowers that had wilted to that stage.
“No, dear. The government is responsible for poisoning us. At the very least, you have to admit they allow it. Look at the strawberries that they let into this country. Death on a stem. And here's some totally natural bread. I made it myself out of organically grown potato flour and free-range eggs." The bread made a thunk like a brick being dropped.
“Ursula, I'm really not entirely helpless. I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but—"
“Think nothing of it, Jane. We're all in this together. I'm a nurse, you know. Well, I was a nurseuntil the government took away my license on a foolish pretense."
“What was the pretense?" Jane couldn't help but ask.
“Drug dealing," Ursula said calmly, taking the lid off a bowl of soybean curd with a greenish blue gravy over it that looked suspiciously like algae. "Ridiculous, of course. I didn't use any of the so-called controlled substances. Only natural herbs, spices, and minerals for my private patients. And they all thrived. Why, one got to be a hundred and one years old and left me all her money out of gratitude for making her last two years so stimulating. Now, sit down at the table and let me dish this all up for you.”
By now Jane needed to sit down, but not to eat. Was this, she hoped, a onetime visit or did Ursula plan on forcing revolting food on her until her foot healed? Horrors!
Ursula rummaged in a drawer and brought up a battered kitchen spoon to ladle her creations onto a plate sitting on the counter. "There now, just taste. You'll feel ever so much better.”
There was another knock on the door and Ursula ran to let Shelley in.
“Oh, Ms. Appledorn. I didn't know you were here." When Ursula turned away from her, Shelley winked at Jane.
Jane gave Shelley a HELP ME! look.
“I'm just giving Jane her dinner," Ursula said. "What is that stuff?" Shelley asked, not disguising her distaste at the sight.
Ursula, more in pity than anger, explained all the items. Shelley listened and nodded and tried to hide a smile. "I'm not sure it's a good time for Jane to completely change her diet. She's under considerable stress, you know.”
Ursula nodded. "That's why I brought the caraway-flavored hummus. Excellent for stress."
“Dear God," Jane whispered to herself.
“Actually, I was just coming to fetch Jane to come to my house for dinner. I thought we'd have carryout Chinese."
“All that MSG!" Ursula said with terror. "That stuff can kill you."
“It hasn't yet," Shelley said calmly. "Jane and I thrive on it."
“I'm not really hungry," Jane said. "Why don't you put this in the fridge for later? A midnight snack, perhaps?”
By midnight she could probably hobble out to dump the stuff in the trash and pretend she'd polished it all off.
“Excellent idea. Just don't eat that Chinese stuff. Let's just sit down and get to know each other.”
Shelley, standing behind Ursula, rolled her eyes. Jane sighed.
Ursula insisted on settling Jane on the couch in the living room and putting an afghan around her. "Ursula, it's summer," Shelley mentioned.
“But extra heat is good for almost every ailment. Take my word on this.”
Shelley took a chair and so did Ursula. Then the three of them sat and stared at each other.
Ursula was the first to break the silence. "You do know about the Denver airport, don't you? The new one?"
“What's to know?" Jane asked. "Except that's a big place.”
Ursula laughed bitterly. "Have you seen the murals?"
“The bright-colored ones near the baggage pickup? Yes, I saw them a couple years ago," Jane said.
“And they didn't disturb you?" Ursula asked.
Jane shrugged. "I wouldn't want them in my living room, but I wasn't disturbed by them."
“You should have studied them. They're all about Satanism." Ursula leaned forward and a paper clip fell off her from somewhere.
Shelley lifted an eyebrow skeptically.
“Yes, it's a conspiracy that was started by the Dauphin when he escaped to America and set up the Virginia Company, which meant all the money made in America would eventually go to England.”
Jane cleared her throat. "Uh. . wasn't the Dauphin French?" She almost added, And wasn't the Virginia Company set up several centuries earlier? But she was curious about where this was leading.
“By birth, of course, but he'd been rescued by Englishmen and owed his allegiance to them. So this trust has operated with the consent and encouragement of the Windsor family ever since then. The Queen of England actually owns most of Colorado, you know. Under a false name, of course. And she owns the land the Denver airport is on.”
Shelley mumbled through the hand she was holding to her mouth to keep from laughing, "What's the false name?"
“Nobody knows," Ursula said. "Probably there are many false names for her.”
Jane was having trouble keeping a straight face as well. "Does the IRS know about this?"
“Naturally. They're part of the conspiracy. As is the CIA. And the Masons. They've been involved ever since the Templars were killed in France in the fifteenth century. But a few escaped and went to Ireland and started the Masonic order. The King of France wanted to kill them to get their fortune, and the fortune disappeared as well."
“I think you mean the fourteenth century," Jane said. "Thirteen oh nine or so?"
“Fourteenth or fifteenth, whatever. The capstone at the airport is a Masonic symbol, just like that one that is on our money. I don't know why people can't see the connection. All our so-called Founding Fathers were Masons. On the original architectural drawings of the airport, it said it was a 'control center for New World control.' "
“An awkward sentence to be sure. You've seen the plans?" Jane said. This was spinning out of control and no longer funny.
“Not personally," Ursula said, picking up a barrette that had worked its way out of her hair, "but I know people who know other people whohave seen them. And then when you put this together with Cecil Rhodes—”
Shelley made a choking noise and hurried into the kitchen.
“Cecil Rhodes?" Jane repeated dimly.
“Yes, that was the whole idea of the Rhodes scholarships. To train Americans to think like Brits."
“I never knew," Jane said. "Ursula, it's awfully nice of you to have visited, but you'll have to excuse me. I have some letters to write and a couple birthday cards that have to go in the mail this evening."
“I'll run you to the post office — and speaking of the post office, they're part of it, too. Do you have any idea how many postal workers are Masons?”