"George dear" Margaret heard, seeing Mrs. Wilson there, "I'm going to the store, and I'll be back in just a little bit. Try not let Dennis get to you if he comes over" and with that, Mrs. Wilson left, leaving Margaret confused. She sat up, realizing that she felt heavy and clumsy. She looked down at her body in horror, shocked and disgusted. She saw quickly that she was in the Wilson's house, and realized a few seconds later that she seemed to be Mr. Wilson somehow. "I must be hallucinating" she said to herself, surprised to hear Mr. Wilson's gruff voice instead of her own voice. She wandered into the bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror, realizing that she was indeed Mr. Wilson. She felt herself starting to cry, then bit it back, hearing someone calling through the door. "Mr. Wilson" she heard, and brightened, recognizing Dennis's voice. As Dennis walked in, Margaret stood up, loving how she was towering over Dennis. He looked so small to her now. "Now, Dennis Mitchell" she. Now all my years of keeping account and study to control my investments would bear fruit; not money, of that I have enough, now they would serve to get me my mother, or so I hoped.The road to the ranch ran through a dense forest, quiet and in communion with nature; I made the thirty or so miles to the ranch house in less than an hour; at the end of the road, the forest opened into a wide valley at the bottom of which, were the house, barns, corrals, warehouses, and ranch hand bunk house.When my car approached the railing of the house veranda, the door opened and on the threshold appeared a beautiful blonde goddess shading her eyes from the sunlight to distinguish who had arrived, my mother. I was mesmerized, and in a flash I felt how difficult was going to be working at her side, if she accepted my offer."Good morning sir, may I be of service" was her greeting. I was tongue tied and with a tremendous effort I answered her."Good morning to you Mrs. Sorensen."She looked at me patiently.
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