Finally, she too drifted off to sleep.This was to be their last day in Hobart and Helen wished she had been able to persuade her mother to take at lea...t one more day off school. She had woken up first and had turned onto her side so that she could look at Frank, sleeping peacefully beside her. She wondered what experiences she was in for today, but didn't care. She would do whatever he wanted. So far she had enjoyed everything he had done to her.Frank woke up and opened his eyes. He was looking. I went over all the lost treasure reports I’d been memorizing. There were all kinds of lost gold mine legends that didn’t have the credibility of newspaper reports of stage or bank robberies. The most famous, of course, was the Lost Dutchman, but even though one report was that it was in Colorado and another in California, the most common were that it was somewhere in Arizona. And a lost mine would be a problem if the time traveler intended to go open the mine in the 20th century. There were. Make it fair as it were." Thanks Bernie. I don't want us to fall out. Just let me know if there's anything I can do. Any time." I was thinking of right now." Now? But aren't you busy with Lynda right now?" Yes but I want you to show me what you showed her." What?!!! You can't be serious. You're my daughter." Christ, Belle, you know we're not exactly your average mother and daughter. We hardly know each other. I don't think we'll ever get the mother-daughter bonding back. We can be good friends. Written words were as difficult for her as spoken words. Each letter and each word was like a picture. She could compose a memo to communicate but it was a complex visual undertaking for her, with rules that seemed arbitrary and couldn’t be translated from visual or tactile relationships. And the results, being more like a montage than a letter, tended to confuse those who read them. Her art and sculpture, on the other hand, flowed from her fingers like a playful, babbling brook from a spring..