Chapter Text
September, 1968
Converse County, Wyoming, United States
It was quite late in the day when two somber figures entered a vast and quiet cemetery. They had both been there before, but it had been many years ago. Many of the headstones were old, and the lack of freshly disturbed earth suggested no one had been buried there for a long time. Sam Troy stayed close to his mother, Marigold, occasionally offering his arm for her to hold onto. Neither of them said a word to each other as they walked up the rows of graves. Even when they stopped at one particular row, they remained silent.
"I remember the day of your father's funeral was clear," Marigold said. "No clouds, no threat of rain."
"I remember the whole time, I… I felt like I was being choked," Troy added. "I didn't want anyone seeing me cry."
"You didn't do a good job hiding it."
"No." Troy drew in a breath. "No, I did not."
"Well, it's alright now. To cry, I mean. There's a time to be stoic and a time to be emotional. Frankly, I would be concerned if anyone—man or woman—didn't cry over the death of someone they loved."
Troy nodded in agreement. He didn't feel like tearing up. The pain of his father's death had mostly gone away, though it would never disappear completely. It was a scar that would ache at times. He couldn't imagine what it was like for his mother, though. He didn't know what he would do if something similar happened to his wife, Shauna.
Marigold gently pulled her arm from Troy's, and began walking up the row of headstones. "I know a lot of the names here."
"I recognize some," Troy said. "Family members and neighbors."
Marigold nodded. "Everyone I knew as a girl is gone, either dead or somewhere else. It's a very… strange feeling."
Troy wasn't sure what to say. He thought decades ago that he would grow old completely alone. He was glad he was wrong, and he was glad his mother wasn't going to be alone for the rest of her life, either. Moving her into a new house that was closer to Troy and his family would help quite a bit.
They didn't leave the cemetery until the sun sunk lower in the sky. Troy helped Marigold into his truck, then climbed into the driver's seat himself. He glanced at her, as he began driving down the long, empty road back to his ranch. "You doing okay, Mom?"
"I'll be alright," Marigold said. "Just… thinking about everyone we saw. A lot of them never learned the truth about you, about… how you weren't blame for the loss of the farm. I wish I had the chance to do so."
Troy sighed. "I wish you did, too, but it's something we can't… just can't."
"I know, and that's hard for both of us to accept."
"Yep, because neither of us handle grief well."
Marigold shook her head.
"At least you have a chance to make things right with David."
"David has been trying. It's his younger son who hasn't been very receptive."
"Well, if you can forgive me for being harsh, you did make James scared of you."
"I know, and fears are hard to overcome. I would have thought him being almost grown-up would make him less afraid."
Troy shrugged. "Look at me, Mom, I'm still scared of tornadoes."
"That's a different sort of fear, Sam."
"It's still a fear. It's just expressed differently than how James expresses his."
Marigold sighed. "I guess you're right."
"I did say to David last month that I'd do whatever I could to help." Troy focused on driving for another minute before an idea struck him. It wasn't one he was too sure about, but he felt it would be better than nothing. "How about this—I have James stay at the ranch for a little bit. He can do some work, learn some things, and make an attempt to spend time with you."
"It feels like we'd be forcing him to."
"Eh… maybe a little, but how else are we going to get things to change?"
"You have a point."
"Thanks." Troy was quiet for a moment, then glanced at his mother again. "You know else we can invite?"
"Hans?" Marigold asked.
"How'd you guess?"
"Because I know you."
"I should've seen that coming. Anyway, yes, I think Dietrich can help us."
"He did a good job helping us before, and I thought it would be impossible." Marigold nodded a little. "Alright. Just remember to actually call him instead of going right to his door."
Troy grinned a little "I promise, I will call him. No need to worry about it, Mom."
There was one phone call that Troy had to make first, which would determine whether or not he even needed to bother calling Dietrich. While his mother and Shauna, were in the kitchen preparing dinner, Troy dialed David's number. He had an awful sinking feeling about his idea, but was certain that whatever came of it, he could fix it.
"Hello?" David said on the other line.
"Hey, David. It's Sam. I'm not bothering you, am I?" Troy asked.
"No, not at all. What do you need?"
"I wanted to ask if James was looking for something to do. I've got a lot of work to do on the ranch before winter comes, and I could use the help."
"Is this your way of trying to help James get along with Mom?"
Troy bit his lip, though he couldn't say he was surprised that David was able to read him that quickly, even over the telephone. "Maybe."
David sighed. "Are you sure this is going to work?"
"No, but I want to try. Mom wants a better relationship with him. And you."
"We're working on it. I think James is going to be a much harder sell."
"Look, I won't try and frame it like that. I know I want to see my nephews more, so it's not like this is all about Mom. I'll call Dietrich and see if he can come help, too."
"Well, if Dietrich's involved… Maybe there's a chance." David went quiet. "Alright, I'll talk to James. I won't say anything about Mom."
"Thanks. Good night." Troy hung up the phone, and went into the kitchen, where he gave Shauna a hug. "Sweetheart."
"Sam," Shauna said, smiling. "Are you ready for dinner?"
"If you're ready to serve it." Troy kissed her cheek. "We're going to have guests in a few days."
"Who's coming over?"
"James, and possibly Dietrich."
"Goodness, we haven't had James or Aaron over in years. I can't remember what James likes to eat."
"Well, we know Dietrich likes cinnamon rolls."
Shauna sighed. "If it's a pastry or chocolate, Hans will eat it. I'm not asking about him, though."
"You'll have to ask James when he gets here."
"Oh, alright. Go sit, Sam."
"Wait, wait—" Troy planted a kiss on Shauna's forehead. "I love you."
"I love you, too." Shauna waited until her husband was seated before setting a serving dish of mashed potatoes on the table, followed by a large plate with several venison steaks covered in a rich, brown gravy. There were rolls fresh from the oven and a dish of seasoned carrots recently pulled from the garden. After setting a small plate of butter on the table, Shauna went to the kitchen door, calling, "Antheia! Dinner's ready, lass!"
A door upstairs opened. Within seconds, Troy and Shauna's adopted daughter, Antheia came into the kitchen. "Looks good," she said, taking a seat. "Thanks, Mom."
"Your father hunted the deer, so thank him, too," Shauna said.
Antheia grinned and leaned over to give Troy a hug. "Thanks, Dad."
"You don't have to thank me. I'm doing my job," Troy said.
It wasn't long after dinner when Troy brought his mother back to her home for the night. When he returned to his ranch, he took a hot shower, then joined Shauna in bed. "Sweetheart," he said.
"Sam." Shauna tousled his hair. She set her book on the nightstand. "I overheard your talk with David."
"Oh? What about it?"
"As much as I want to see James and your mother get along, I am worried that James will feel antagonized throughout this."
"No. No, that won't happen," Troy said. "I know where he's coming from. Besides, I'm going to have Dietrich come. He knows how to mediate stuff like this."
Shauna sighed. "I hope so. How old is James?"
"I think he turned nineteen a little while ago."
"Ah, so he's just become an adult."
"I know he delivers mail, but everything David's told me suggests it's not something James wants to do long-term. He's not sure yet. Maybe we can help with that."
"I hope so."
"Besides, he's David's. He's probably not like most teenagers."
"I almost thought you were going to say he's not like you."
Troy couldn't decide to be hurt or agree with that. "Well… yeah, that's true."
"Antheia has already picked up on some of your habits. I imagine if we were able to have biological children, they would be worse. Knowing your mother, we wouldn't be safe if we had a boy or a girl."
"You say that like I wouldn't be able to handle a kid like me."
"I'm not sure how we're defining 'handle' here." Shauna snuggled closer to Troy. "Regardless, I'm not worried about James's behavior, either. He'll have someone close to his age to hang around with Antheia, so it's not like he'll be stuck with us or your mother all day."
"Or Dietrich."
"Right. Or Dietrich. Did you call him?"
"I will in the morning."
"You? Call Dietrich when it's a reasonable time in Germany?" Shauna touched Troy's forehead. "Are you feeling alright?"
"I feel perfectly fine." Troy kissed Shauna, then pulled her closer. "But I'm actually comfortable in bed, so Dietrich can be spared dealing with me for a few more hours."
Shauna didn't have an argument for that, as she put her arms around Troy and tried to fall asleep.
Hammelburg, West Germany
Hans Dietrich had enjoyed a quiet day so far. His son was at school, his wife was spending the day with her sister-in-law, and his nephew was on a training mission in the Bundeswehr. Once, he wouldn't have been okay with spending this much time completely by himself in the house, as that had been his life for over ten years, but now, it was refreshing. After raking the yard and tending his garden, Dietrich felt it was time to sit in the living room with a cup of tea and a slice of cake. The weather was nice enough that he didn't need to light the fireplace, though that would be nice later in the evening. He opened the windows just a little, letting in a crisp breeze.
Once Dietrich had his tea and cake and a book, he sat down to enjoy the next couple of hours alone. It all seemed perfect. But just as he was about to put a generous forkful of cake in his mouth, the telephone began ringing. He swore in German before setting down his book and cake, and stormed out into the kitchen. He took a deep breath and sighed before taking the telephone, reminding himself that it could very well be something important. "Hello?"
"Hey, Dietrich," Troy said. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"
Yes. Yes, you are. "No. What do you want?" Dietrich said.
"I'm trying to help Mom and James fix things. I need someone of your expertise."
"My 'expertise?'"
"Yeah."
Dietrich looked up, and sighed again, praying for strength. "Troy, I don't think you need my help. You are intelligent enough to solve things like this on your own."
"You're better at stuff like this, though. Look, I don't know either of my nephews that well. I know your kids and Moffitt's and Hitch's and Tully's better."
"Technically, I have one child."
"Anselm is basically your kid at this point."
"Technically, he is my nephew. He is also not a child anymore."
"I think you know what I'm trying to say, buddy."
"I do, but you are incorrect."
Troy sighed. "Whatever. My point is, I need a voice of common sense."
"What about your own wife?"
"She's going to have to deal with both me and Mom and that's not fair."
Dietrich closed his eyes and sighed. "Good gracious… Fine. At least you admit it. Give me a few days. I will be there."
"Thanks. I'll see you then."
Dietrich's "goodbye" was quiet and half-hearted as he hung up the phone. He rubbed his face and groaned. At this point, he was never going to be able to relax. He still returned to his spot on the couch, hoping futilely that his cake would be a source of comfort. His tea was lukewarm by the time he finished his cake, and not once did he pick up his book. He couldn't focus on that now.
Esther returned home an hour later with Gunther, and found her husband sitting in the living with a despondent look. "Hans? Are you alright?"
"I am perfectly fine, angel," Dietrich said.
"What happened?"
"Troy called. He wants me to go to Wyoming to help his mother and nephew."
"At least he called you."
"I don't exactly want to give him credit, but it also feels somewhat warranted. We should reward good behavior, after all."
"I was good today," Gunther said, hopping on the couch next to Dietrich.
"Well, you should be good every day." Dietrich gave Gunther a hug. "I have to go on a trip to see Uncle Troy in a few days, so how about you and I go into Hammelburg on Saturday for ice cream?"
Gunther hugged his father back. "Yes! Thank you, Dad!"
"You're welcome." Dietrich ruffled Gunther's hair before gently pulling himself from the hug. He stood and went into the kitchen to hug Esther. "Am I really as good a mediator as Troy thinks I am?"
"What kind of a question is that?" Esther said. "Of course you are."
"I… should appreciate that."
"Do you not want to go, Hans?"
"Partly, but I already said I would. That, and I want to see Troy's family continue to heal. This is less about him and more about his nephew. I only met both of them briefly earlier this year. Aaron is in the Air Force. James is a mail carrier, and the one who needs a bit of assistance. He is a bit afraid of Marigold."
"Considering the woman is eighty and acts like her son, I can't say I'm surprised."
"Well, that should scare any normal person, but this is a bit different. She was a very different person for a long time, and she was in contact with David's family quite often until about six years ago. She would frequently rant about the state of the family, her in-laws' farm, and especially Troy himself. It led James to see her as far more frightening than she should be, and now he's uncertain about things given how quickly they changed."
"Ah. I see." Esther began filling a large pot with water. She paused and gave Dietrich a look. "Are you scared of Marigold?"
"Not really. She is not that much different from her son. Whichever one of them makes more sense depends on the day, but I have seen Troy at his worst."
"Does that mean you are not a normal person, then?"
"I have not been normal since I found out about my prophecy. Also, you married me, so what does that say about you?"
Esther snorted. "It says 'I love you despite your quirks.'"
"I have quirks?"
"Yes, Hans, you do."
"That is ridiculous." Dietrich looked around to see if there was anything he could help Esther with before returning to the living room. He paused at the cookie jar, and opened it to take out a few gingersnaps.
"Hans! Put those back! I'm making dinner!"
Dietrich hesitated before putting all but one gingersnap back.
"This is what I meant by 'quirks.'"
Dietrich put the cookie in his mouth before kissing his wife's forehead and going back into the living room. At least he had a few days to enjoy some peace and quiet before he headed to Wyoming.
Troy was having second thoughts about this idea. He usually didn't about any of his ideas, but after a couple of days with nothing, he wondered if he needed to rethink this. His thoughts kept wandering as he rode Lana, his lovely white Quarter Horse mare, around the fence of the pasture, checking each post and looking for signs of animals trying to dig their way in. So far, nothing. He did this enough times to know when something didn't look right at first glance, leaving him with ample opportunity to think.
"Shauna might be right about James potentially feeling antagonized by this," Troy said, half to himself and half to Lana. "David said yesterday that James said 'okay' to doing this, but seemed a bit apprehensive. Maybe I'm about to make a big mistake. I'm trying to put all of us back together." He sighed heavily. "It wouldn't be the first time I made a mess of things, though."
Lana looked back at her rider, prompting Troy to reach over and pat her mane. "I know, I know. I gotta focus on what I'm doing. Gotta focus." He gently urged Lana forward, approaching the northwest corner of the pasture fence. The trees around his ranch had started changing color just a few weeks before, and still had some time before all were dressed for fall. It was getting cooler every day, and the days themselves were gradually becoming shorter and shorter. At least that year had been successful so far. Troy just hoped he wasn't pushing his luck.
"Dietrich will be here in another day or two," Troy said. "Can't go wrong with him helping us. Maybe he was right in that I should be trying to do this on my own, but I'm not sure. It'd be better with help. But he is also right. I need to get better at this."
He looked up when he spotted movement in the corner of his eye. Antheia, on her chestnut mare, Calliope, cantered up to where Troy and Lana were, and pulled her horse into a halt. "Hey, Dad? I found something on the north side."
"Found what?" Troy asked.
"Looks like something trying to dig under the fence."
"Okay. Lead the way, sweetie."
The two dismounted their horses when they reached the middle of the northern fence. Near one of the posts were several long marks in the dirt. Troy knelt by the fence. Something felt familiar about what he was looking at, and it smelled familiar, too.
"Coyotes?" Antheia asked.
"No. Coyotes are very similar to jackals. They've left the ranch alone since… since I accepted more of what I have, supernaturally. See these claw marks? It's definitely something canine, and a lot bigger than a coyote. That could only be a wolf."
"Normal wolves or… werewolves?" Antheia paled.
"Normal. I just checked the fence two days ago, long after the full moon. No marks. Regular wolves are still dangerous. They'll take out bison with no problem, so taking cattle would be a breeze. I'll fill this and get material to start putting in a no-digging barrier." Troy looked at Antheia. "Nothing to be scared of, unless they get stupid enough to try jumping the fence." He held up his Springfield rifle. "Why do you think I've been teaching you how to use this?"
Antheia nodded. "It's just been with deer, though. A wolf is different."
"Especially when they're moving quickly and you're running the risk of hitting the cattle. Hitting a moving target isn't easy when you're a beginner. I can teach you a few things. For now, I want you to do fence inspections on the south and east side, where the land's open. I'll take care of the north and west."
"Okay."
"And sweetie? I'm proud of you. You're learning."
Antheia smiled through her nervousness. "Thanks, Dad."
After Antheia got back in Calliope's saddle and turned to continue on their route, Troy remained where he was, looking at the scrapes in the dirt. Just one more thing to worry about. I'd rather deal with this and this alone.
He was relieved a couple of days later when Dietrich arrived, and gave him a tight hug as soon as Dietrich had stepped onto the porch.
As expected, Dietrich gave a displeased grunt. "Hello, Troy."
"Hey," Troy said. "You have no idea how glad I am that you're here."
"Oh, I think I have an idea," Dietrich replied. "Knowing you, it is likely you have been stressing out about this since you first called me."
Troy sighed. "On one hand, you're right. On the other…"
"You admitted I was right. Are you feeling well?"
Troy wasn't quite sure how to answer that when he noticed Dietrich grinning. He gave Dietrich's hair a quick ruffle, then turned to lead him inside.
"Hello, Hans," Shauna called from the kitchen. "How was your trip?"
"Uneventful," Dietrich replied. "Same as always." He hung up his jacket before going into the kitchen. "So, where is Marigold and your nephew?"
"Not here yet," Troy said. "David's dropping off James tomorrow morning. Mom's going to come later that day. I'm trying to set this up so it doesn't look like I'm trying to get James and Mom to bond."
"Are they both unaware of this?"
"Mom knows. James doesn't."
"I think that is your first mistake. Already, you will be showing your hand as being in favor of your mother."
Guilt sank like lead in Troy's stomach. "Well, it… I…" He sighed. "Great."
"That is if James suspects something is going on. You and your mother just have to keep silent and act like everything is normal. It is too late to change anything."
"What else can we do?"
"I don't know. I know James about as well as you do."
"At least you're smarter than I am about stuff like this."
"I would not say that. We will both learn."
Shauna handed Dietrich a cup of coffee. "You do have a way of keeping Sam's head on his shoulders."
"Apparently."
"I already voiced concerns about this feeling like we're ganging up on James."
"At least he will have you and me to go to if things become sour, then," Dietrich said.
"I really don't want this to turn into people taking sides," Troy said.
"I doubt it will. But James will need people to turn to if he feels he is not being heard. If he does not have that, this will turn into a war. He is still quite young, and so the last thing he needs to is to feel he is not worth listening to. I understand you and your mother have been getting along. Your mother has done nothing wrong since you made amends a few months ago, but James has not reached the point in which he can move on. Unlike you, it does not seem he wants to. Fostering that naturally is going to be challenging. You have to be able to give equal consideration to your mother and James."
"I know that. It's not like Mom did anything to hurt him the way she did me—"
"You don't know that. She was a very different person for years. She may have done or said something hurtful."
"Then why hasn't she told me?"
"Shame."
"Okay, then why hasn't David told me?"
"Possibly because he wants to leave it in the past. I am speculating things, Troy, to help you think about different scenarios."
"And I really don't like any of your scenarios."
Dietrich shrugged. "That is partly the point. I suspect you are more stressed about them than anything."
"Maybe?"
"I am going to take that as a 'yes.' All I am saying is that there may be things you don't know about yet, so you may prepare yourself for them."
Troy looked down at his boots, then nodded. "I know. I'm not mad. Just worried."
"I cannot say I blame you. Markus and I went through similar things, and we came out alright. But it took us having difficult conversations in order to move on. That is something you cannot be afraid of, or try to shield your mother and James from. You were able to have those talks with Marigold. Now you must help her and James do the same."
"It feels like we're just putting Mom through shame over and over again."
"Well, she does have a lot to atone for. This is just one more step. Coming clean and admitting she did wrong will be much better for her in the long run."
"I won't argue with that. It'll be nice when she doesn't have everything she did constantly bugging her."
"The same can be said for you," Dietrich said.
Troy nodded again. He tried to accept that the beginning of this was going to be difficult, and hoped that he would be able to get through it without wanting to quit.
The rest of the day was quiet. Troy tried taking his mind off the coming morning by spending time with Dietrich out in the field. After a few hours of work and mundane conversation between the two, they went inside for dinner. Shauna and Antheia had prepared a roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and maple-glazed brussels sprouts. A cake was in the oven for later. They ate quietly for a few moments after saying grace, but the silence was broken by Shauna.
"I hope everyone knows not to repeat this morning's conversation tomorrow," she said. "Especially in front of James."
"We'll be fine," Troy said. "We're just going to act natural."
"You? Act natural?" Dietrich asked. "How are we defining natural here?"
"You know what I mean."
Dietrich smirked before putting a forkful of chicken in his mouth.
"I just don't want everyone to be fighting for the next week or so," Shauna said. "Hans, what do you want for breakfast tomorrow?"
"Me?"
"Yes, you."
"I am alright with whatever you make."
Shauna sighed. "Fine. I just don't want Marigold assuming I'm not feeding you."
Dietrich frowned and gestured to his plate. "Why is that anyone's business?"
"Nine cinnamon rolls," Troy said.
"That is your fault, you know."
"How? You ate the cinnamon rolls, buddy."
"And that is no one's business."
"At least there's a cake baking, so hopefully Marigold won't try to make anything else," Shauna said.
Troy gave his wife a look. "Sweetheart, have you just met my mother?"
Shauna sighed and rubbed her face. "No, Sam."
"At least she won't be spending the night. She has a car."
Dietrich paled. "Your mother can drive?"
"Yeah."
"Somehow, the fact that Anah can drive scares me less."
"You've been used to that knowledge since you watched her plow a jeep through your camp to rescue us."
"I wouldn't call that being 'used to that knowledge.' Anah still makes me nervous when she drives."
"Just remember that she went through the whole process of getting her driver's license in Britain, so some poor stranger had to comprehend that, too."
For the rest of the night, they tried to keep their conversations similar to dinner—humorous and mundane. But when everyone was ready for bed, Troy knew mere hours stood between him and dealing with his mother and nephew. After saying goodnight to Antheia and getting a shower, Troy went downstairs for a last glass of water, and heard frantic scrambling and the closing of cabinets in the kitchen. He frowned before peering into the doorway, and saw Dietrich holding a glass of milk by the refrigerator.
"Hello, Troy," Dietrich said.
"What are you eating?" Troy asked.
"Eating? This is milk." Dietrich held up his glass.
Troy bit his lip in an effort to avoid smiling. "Okay, buddy." He opened a cupboard to get a glass. "There are extra blankets in a chest by my office if you get too cold."
"Thank you."
Troy filled his glass at the sink. He looked out the window at the pasture nearest to the house. So far, he hadn't seen any more signs of wolves at the fence. That was good. He sighed when his thoughts turned back to Marigold and James, though. That probably wasn't going to be good.
"Are you thinking about tomorrow?" Dietrich asked.
Troy nodded.
Dietrich squeezed his shoulder. "You have plenty of people here to help you."
"I know."
"And maybe it will not be as bad as you are afraid of."
"I hope so, but this is my family, Dietrich. We seem to be built with problems."
"You said it, I did not."
Troy sighed again, then drank his water. After finishing it and setting his glass in the sink, he patted Dietrich's shoulder. "Good night."
"Good night," Dietrich replied.
Troy turned to leave the kitchen and head upstairs. His mischievous curiosity got the better of him, and he only went up a few stairs before pausing to listen, with a big grin crossing his face. Sure enough, he heard one of the cabinet doors opening, followed by the clinking of a fork against a plate. He crept back downstairs, making almost no noise, and stopped at the kitchen doorway, seeing Dietrich leaning over the sink with a slice of cake. "Ah-ha! I knew that's what you were doing!"
Dietrich nearly dropped his plate when he jumped. "Damn it, Troy! Out!"
Troy laughed as he headed back upstairs, and was still grinning when he entered his bedroom.
Shauna lowered her book and gave him a look, though. "Sam, what did you do?"
"Oh, just spooked Dietrich because he was trying to not get caught with a second piece of cake," Troy said.
Shauna sighed. "If he wants another piece, he can." She picked up her book. "And if he has a bout of indigestion because of it, that's his own fault."
"Well, it was nice to laugh a little before tomorrow," Troy said while draping his robe on the foot of the bed.
Shauna looked at her husband through the corner of her eye, and gave him a lopsided smirk. "Would you like something else to take your mind off tomorrow?"
"If you're offering, sweetheart." Troy waited until Shauna set her book on her nightstand before giving her a kiss.
At least she hadn't been wrong about intimacy taking his mind off the next day. Troy slept better than he expected. When he awoke in the morning, he gave the still-sleeping Shauna a kiss on her cheek, and got out of bed to get dressed, start coffee, and begin his chores for the day. Downstairs, he found Dietrich was still asleep on the couch. He bit his tongue as he tried not to laugh while going over to pat Dietrich's head. Dietrich made a grunting sound, and pulled the blanket over his head.
Troy kept his laughing quiet while going into the kitchen to make coffee. He left Dietrich alone while heading outside. Like the previous day, he saw no signs of wolves, and none of his animals seemed stressed. It didn't seem like much time had passed when he spotted a car pulling into the driveway. The earlier humor drained from his body as he watched David get out of the driver's side, followed by James from the passenger seat. Troy drew in a breath. Well, there's no turning back now. Let's get this show on the road.