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               Tuck Season, Wabbit Season, Tuck Season!
                            Part 6
                              -*-
      Copyright 1999, 2008 by either Joel Lawrence or Ellen Hayes


Any resemblance between the writings in this work, and any actual
persons or places, living or dead, are purely coincidental, except when
used for satirical purposes.

This work contains adult situations, adult language, adult concepts, and
possibly sex.  If you are legally not allowed to read materials
containing such things, then you will be breaking the law by reading
this.  I am not responsible.
Continuing to read this document, or storing it or reproducing it
in any format means that you explicitly affirm that you are legally
allowed to possess and read such materials in your city, county/parish,
state, and country.

All rights reserved.  See the bottom for distribution rights.


***


     "I don't suppose she has shorts or anything?" Tucker asked Charlene
hesitantly. "Or maybe I could get MY clothes back?" 
     She shook her head, like he'd expected.  
     "Of course not; that might allow someone to get something useful 
done.  Damnit."
     "Don't curse," Charlene spasmed at him, and Tucker just sighed.
     Tom had sent off his boy/assistant to get the hardware from a shop
in town, and he was drilling the holes in the planks himself, leaving
Tucker with nothing to do but chafe at how long all this was taking.

     Charlie was wondering how to approach the subject of getting
Valerie to go along with Jane, but the persistent memory of Jane yelling
at Valerie, and the persistent fear of Jane yelling at HIM, kept
interfering with his concentration.  *I don't know why she's so-*
     "She's got her hooks into you, doesn't she," Valerie stated
suddenly.
     "What?"
     "Jane," she stated.  "She's got you too; you're working with her."
     "I-"  If she hadn't sounded so sure of herself, and so tired, he
might not have said, "Yeah, I guess."  Then it was too late to take it
back, no matter how much he wished he hadn't said it.
     "What does she want?" Valerie asked next.
     Charlie sighed, and looked ahead.  *Nice day,* he noted idly as he
tried to think of what to say next.  "Just..."
     "Or do you get punished for telling me?" Valerie added.
     "What?  No!  Where did you get that idea?" Charlie complained.
     Valerie just shrugged.
     "I swear," Charlie complained, "if you'd just stop screwing around
and fighting her every chance you get, it'd be easier for you."
     "Like you did?" Valerie asked.
     "Y-  Well, yeah!"
     She just nodded.

     Charlene continued talking, but Tucker had stopped listening to
her, or as much as he could.  It was obvious that Charlene had been
Corrupted, brainwashed into going along with Jane's shit; and whether
Charlene truly believed it or not, she was going to push the party line
out loud, just in case Jane was watching somehow.  *Man...  I can't
believe this place...  And those bitches...  This is unreal.  Is she 
really doing this to kids?*  It LOOKED like 'training' for bought-and-
sold child whores, but there was no way he could imagine his parents
doing that to him.  *Shoot me, maybe.  Not that.  IS it some kind of
reform school thing?*  He knew his judgement was off when he was tired,
and Ghu was he tired.  *I don't know what to think...*
     Small dark shapes kept darting through the shadows off to the
sides, but he pretended to ignore them as he shivered.

     Charlie had finally realized that Valerie was treating what he said
like it was a lecture; she'd tuned out some time ago, and hadn't even
been paying attention.  *Well, thanks a whole fucking lot!* he bitched.
*Fine, if you don't want the fucking help, then forget it!*

     "What?"
     "You two young ladies don't need to be doin' any of this," Tom
stated firmly, concentrating on the new one; she was the one that had
been the most trouble so far.  "Just let us men-folk handle it," he
smiled.
     Valerie started to stutter and splutter; Charlene grabbed her arm,
said hastily, "Thank you so much Tom," and dragged the other girl away
before she could find her voice.

     "Do you want to ARGUE with him?!" Charlie hissed at Valerie,
feeling about ready to hit her and almost confident that he could
justify it to Jane this time.  "You are SUPPOSED to be-"
     "WhattheFUCK does he think, that I'm comPLETELY FUCKing incompetent
or something?!" Valerie raged, NOT bothering to keep her voice low.
     "He THINKS," Charlie yelled back at her, "that you-"  *Ohshitno.*
He'd almost screamed The Secret out at the top of his lungs.  "That you
are a STUDENT of Jane's, here to learn how to be a LADY!  NOT a
CARPENTER!"
     The sweat of relief enveloped him, as he checked what he'd said and
found it just about perfect in all respects.

     "Heh," Tom said to himself, just able to hear the two 'girls'
yelling at this distance.  *I didn't think she'd catch herself in time,
there...*  He shifted the planks again; he'd gotten ready to drop them
and make a lot of noise to obscure Charlene's anticipated mistake.

     Charlie let Valerie stomp off; he just followed her, not too
closely, to make sure she wouldn't do anything stupid.
     She was definitely working off her anger as she stomped along,
cursing things in general and her voice occasionally raising to a
"FUCK!" like he'd desperately wanted to do and had never been allowed.
That seemed to be one of the things Jane did as an overall strategy, now
that he thought about it.  *Keeps you mad, but doesn't let you let it
out... so it just stays inside you all the time.  But, WHY does she do
that?*
     He tried not to pay any attention to what Valerie was saying; it
probably wasn't nice, it might refer to him, and he didn't want to be
reminded of words he didn't dare say out loud any more.

     "Well Ah'll be..." Tom muttered in surprise.  The glue that held
the balusters into their sockets in the floor had apparently dried out,
and most of them could be shifted or, in a few cases, rotated by hand.
"Just one bump, and..."  And the handrail was loose too; the peg holding
it into the corner baluster by the actual stairs had apparently broken.
Valerie was lucky she hadn't gone over the edge, he figured; and peering
down, he shook his head at the thought of her having to go to the
hospital with a broken leg or two.  "Lucky little girl."  *Or whatever,*
he amended in his head with a grin.

     Charlie was surprised when Valerie stopped, both ranting and
walking, and caught up to her.  He was shocked to find she was crying
silently, tears streaming down her face as she rocked on her feet.
     "I can't take it any more," she finally gasped out.  "I'm going
fucking crazy here!"
     *Oh, shit!*  That was NOT what Charlie wanted to hear.  "Val-"
     "I am going to go INSANE like this!" she sobbed, wild-eyed.
     "Valerie, it's okay," he said as soothingly as he could.
     "NO IT ISN'T!" she screamed at him, making him back up a step.
     They stood there for a moment, staring at each other, and Charlie
realized that she really did look like she was going classically mad,
like out of some Victorian movie: her hair was disheveled, as were her
clothes; she was trembling and her hands were clenched into white fists;
and the silent tears were streaming down her face and washing her makeup
in tracks down her cheeks.
     "V-valerie," Charlie stuttered in fear, "I, I'm sorry..."
     She didn't attack him, like he was afraid of; instead she threw her
head back and just screamed into the sky, making him flinch in
startlement.  In a long few seconds, the primal shriek turned into
a gasp as she dropped to her knees, and Charlie instinctively moved
towards her and knelt next to her.  As he was realizing that she could
have truly hurt him at that point, she began sobbing like her entire
life had just shattered.

     Jane felt sick as she looked at the railing at the top of the
stairs; the railing that SHOULD have ensured people's safety.
     "See, it's all gone bad here," Tom told Jane as he demonstrated how
easily the balusters moved, dislodging a few more to fall and clatter on
the floor below.
     "Were either of them hurt?" she demanded.
     He shook his head.  "Not that I could tell, and they had both
walked out to the barn to find somethin' to fix it.  I din't let 'em do
that, a'course," he smiled.  "Wouldn't've been ladylike."
     "No," she agreed absently, looking at the railing again, now open
like a gate over the walkway underneath.  "Are you sure they were all
right?"
     "They didn't look injured, Miz Thompson, that's all I can say," he
shrugged.  "And they didn't say anythin'."
     "Where are they now?  At the barn?"
     "I think the newer one wanted to go for a walk, and if ya take my
advice, Miz Thompson, you'd wait until she came back."
     Tom almost NEVER interfered in her work with suggestions or advice;
that was one reason she kept him.  "Why is that?"
     "She wasn't pleased, and Charlene was keepin' track of her; I
figure, you let her get it out of her system, she won't have to do it in
here, where you'd be forced to notice it.  Let her blow it off out
there," he motioned, "and then YOU can pretend it never happened.  I
think that one needs it, right now.  She was some kind of mad when I
told her us menfolk'd do the repairs; I could hear her cursin' about it
halfway to the house."
     "She knows better than to use that kind of language-"
     Tom shook his head as he interrupted her.  "'Scuse me, Miz
Thompson, but sometimes you need it.  She said she almost fell through,
which HAD to've scared her half to death, and what with her being new
here and everything...  I think she could use the chance, to let off
some steam, and be the better for it after."
     Jane did NOT think so, but as the alternative was chasing around
trying to find her on the grounds (which were not small), she couldn't
stop it from happening.  Instead, she asked, "And Charlene was with
her?"
     "Tryin' to talk some sense into her, last I heard," he nodded.
"She'll stick with 'er."

     Aside from what she'd said at the beginning, Valerie hadn't said
another intelligible word to Charlie.  She'd just hung on to him and
cried herself sick, literally.
     When she'd stopped coughing, and sounded like she'd caught her
breath, Charlie asked, "Are-  Can you breathe okay?"  He'd been about to
ask if she felt BETTER, but instinct warned him that THAT word might set
her off again.  After all, she was still here, at Jane's... and they
would have to go back at some point.  *Not what anyone could call an
improvement, really.*
     Valerie eventually nodded, and Charlie helped her stand upright
again.  He turned her back towards the house, and they walked very
slowly in silence.  He wasn't sure if he should keep holding her, but
she didn't object or try to get away, and he thought he might be
helping.

     Tucker found the trip back somehow better than the trip out.  Maybe
his losing it had helped, purging him of accumulated stress and negative
energy, or some such New Age bullshit.  Charlene wasn't saying anything,
either, just walking with him.  That helped too.
     After a while, he found she had been steering them towards the
barn; she went in and came out a few minutes later with a wet cloth and
some paper towels, which Tucker used to wipe his face and hands.  He'd
just stood there, in the midst of sky and earth, and let the sun warm
him up and the wind blow past him.
     When he was somewhat cleaned up, and he could almost breathe
through his nose again, he sighed.  *Gotta go back to the house
sometime...  Oh shit.*  Jane would see he'd been crying, and want to
know WHY; and that was a chink - rather, a gaping hole - in his
emotional armor that she was sure to fire some HE-I into, to try to
break him.  "Oh shit."
     "What?" Charlene asked.
     "Shut up."  *Do I run now?  Don't have my gear, it's in the house.
No way I can get it either,* Tucker decided, *not easily.  I could fight
my way in,* he thought, just to get that option out.  *But I've got no
weapons, and I have to assume that both of them, Jane and Marie, would
try and kill me.  And they might have firearms too.*  While this was the
Northeast, which seemed to have tried to flush its American smugglers-
and-hunters heritage down the toilet, it was still legal or almost to
possess.  *They'd have a shit time- no, they got all this land.*  His
body could be buried ANYwhere out here, and if Jane had bought off the
local police, which Tucker had to assume, then they wouldn't investigate
if she reported him 'missing'.
     "What're you thinking?" Charlene pestered him.
     "Shut UP," Tucker insisted.  *So force is out.  Can't go in until I
get my face- and I had makeup on,* he groaned.  *That's all fucked up,
and I don't have a purse or anything, or any supplies.  If town was
close... which it isn't.  And I don't have any money, and shoplifting
makeup is iffy.*  They guarded makeup really hard, almost everywhere.
*No, I GOTTA get back in that house, and fix my make-*
     A horse made a noise, which somehow - Tuck could never have thought
of this in a zillion years - got transmitted to Mike who replied almost
instantly with an entire plan.  "Blessed Buddha," Tucker breathed,
awestruck at the beauty of it.
     "What?"
     "Shut UP," Tucker said, then turned to the girl.  "Have you dealt
with the horses before?"
     "What?"
     He shook his head.  "Can you touch 'em without 'em freaking out?"
     She looked suspicious.  "Yeah?" she finally admitted.
     "I think," Tucker remembered, "that I was supposed to see the
horses, before, wasn't I?"
     She glared at him.
     "Oh," Tucker mentioned, "if you mention I was freaking out or
anything like that to Jane, I'll kill you."  And just for a moment, he
could see it, her eyes blank as her neck flopped and her dress soiled
with whatever fell out of her bladder and colon.
     "What're you doing?!"
     "Show me the horses."
     She crossed her arms over her chest.  "Not until you tell me what
you're doing."
     "Fine," Tucker said, and turned and went towards the barn.  "And if
you grab me," he said over his shoulder, "I'll break your arm."

     Charlie stopped, just in time.  *She wouldn't...*
     Except she might.
     "What're you DOING?" he repeated instead, trotting to keep up with
Valerie.
     She sighed as she stopped and turned to face him.

     *This IS a good way to see just how Corrupt she is,* he realized,
and changed what he was about to say.  "Okay, look.  Jane's trying to
break me, break my mind.  If she sees I've been crying, she'll jump all
over me, trying to use that to break me further.  You with me so far?"

     What Valerie was saying was, unfortunately, true.  "Yeah, but-"
     She shook her head.  "But nothing.  I'll..."

     *Don't want to tell her about killing,* Tucker realized, just in
time.  *She might take it correctly,* he added, which made him grin.

     "Okay," Valerie said, obviously having some thought in there that
Charlie didn't get.  "So, I have allergies.  To animals.  Undoubtedly
including horses.  If I get a big dose of horse, I'll be..."

     *I'll be up shit creek; no asthma meds.*
     *No, wait; I've GOT some in my bags, and if they don't give me the
meds if I need 'em, I call 911...  Now that the phone is back on.*  He'd
heard enough panicked calls from other people to know what to say to get
EMS to jump.  He'd done it himself a couple of times, come to think of
it; though, usually, if he needed an ambulance, the last thing he was
able to do was try and talk to a 911 dispatcher.  *...And they get out
here and either Jane gives me my own meds back, or EMS does and I nail
Jane for attempted murder.*

     "You'll be what?" Charlie asked, when it was apparent that Valerie
had stopped and wasn't going to say anything else.
     "What?  Oh.  Um..."
     "You said," Charlie said to help, "that if you get a big dose of
horse..."
     "Oh, right.  If I get a big enough dose of horse, I'm gonna have an
allergy fit, and Jane won't be able to tell that from crying.  And if
you tell her I was crying and sh- stuff out here, I will TOTALLY KNOW
you can't be trusted."
     "Wh-  But-"
     "I have to know whose side you're on, Charlene.  I know, you're on
your side; but I have to know whether you'd keep a secret from Jane or
just blab everything at her.  Think of it as a loyalty test," she
smirked.
     "Why the- why the-  Why shouldn't I tell her?"
     "Because, Shar, you tell her I was out here doing this, freaking
out, and I'll tell her about you pushing me into the railing.  Which
broke, remember?  I bet she'd be pissed about you trying to kill me."

     *No doubt Jane'd rather do it herself,* Tucker thought, *or sell me
to someone who would; I don't think Charlene's allowed to kill other
victims.*

     "I wasn't trying to kill you!" Charlie protested wildly.  "I-"
     "Doesn't matter," Valerie interrupted calmly, shaking her head a
little.  "All you have to do is not mention that I did this with the
horses.  And don't mention I was crying either."

     Charlene was apparently having I/O problems, or a CPU race
condition, so Tucker turned and went to look for one of the horses.
     It wasn't hard to find them; they were 400-600kg herbivores, a
couple of meters high and long, and smelled.  "Nice allergen," Tucker
said, deliberately smiling at the damned beast and speaking quietly.
"Nice big allergen.  I bet Miz Thompson wishes you were tigers or pigs
or something, that would eat bodies..."
     Like a dog, the horse wanted to smell him; like Tucker would have
done for any dog if it made a good reaction roll, he slowly put up his
left hand towards the horse's nose.  Also like with a dog, he wasn't
going to risk his right hand, and he was ready to beat at the thing's
eyes if it bit him.  It made big sniffing noises at him, but didn't try
for a bite.
     "Does she ride out and trample peasants with you?  Huh?"
     The horse seemed to like the idea.
     *Damn good thing the fucker can't talk,* Tucker realized.  *I just
gave it an idea.  Oh shit.*  Well, he wasn't going to come out here
again if he could avoid it.  Plus, horses were stupid and easily cowed;
Jane wouldn't let the horse go off and do its own thing, even if it was
something she'd want to do if she only knew.
     "Nice horsie," Tucker said, and, moving slowly, reached over to pet
its nose.  The other horse made a noise at him, and Tucker looked, but
it apparently just wanted whatever good thing this one was getting.
"Nice other horsie."

     Charlie couldn't not watch, even though he knew he was making
himself liable for not stopping her if she did something insane.
*Something insane that Jane can find out about,* he amended; she'd been
acting pretty insane since she'd fallen through the railing-
     A flash of guilt reminded him that he HAD pushed her.
     His palms hurt where the artificial nails were digging into his
palms, so he deliberately unclenched his fists and tried breathing
deeply, like Darla had suggested.

     Petting them hadn't done any more than the crying had, but rubbing
their fur and then rubbing his hands on his skin was doing the trick.
"Oh god.  Oh god.  Time to go," he said as he backed away from the
horses; he knew they wouldn't like sneezes, and-
     "ATCHZ!"  The first one was a sneak sneeze.  "ATCHZZZ!"  The second
one hurt, and actually sent a blob of snot flying out of his nose.
     *Okay, hit the hous-*
     "ATCHUZZZ!"
     He suddenly realized that he had to make it back to the house, and
just how far away that was.
     "ATCHUZZ!  ATCHUZZZZ!"
     How VERY far away the house was.

     Charlie had had a little time to think about what Valerie had
planned, and how it was coming off, as he guided her back to Jane's
house.  She couldn't see, and was having problems walking, because she
was sneezing so hard and so fast.  She might have been cursing when she
wasn't sneezing, but Charlie couldn't make out the words.  He didn't
want to be ANYWHERE to Valerie's front; she'd almost sneezed on him
several times, and tripped herself once, before he figured out he could
hold her arms from behind and sort of push her in the right direction.
She might've said, "Good idea," but Charlie wasn't sure; she wasn't
objecting, though.  That he could tell.

     Jane could see the children coming back, but for some reason,
Charlene had gripped both Valerie's arms from behind and was pushing her
along, and Valerie looked quite red in the face.  *She can't be that
angry, or she wouldn't allow Charlene to be doing that.  What IS she
doing?* Jane wondered.

     "Well?" Jane Thompson said, scaring Tucker into total alert; he
hadn't realized he was so close to the house already.
     Charlene said, "She, she-"
     "Horzez," Tucker gasped out.  "You zaid zee-"  He exploded yet
again, barely managing to turn away from Jane, and his headache notched
up.  "'Lergic."
     "I can see-"
     "Benadryl," he managed to get out.
     "What?"
     *Stupid bitch!*  Tucker sneezed, twice, before he could get out,
"Benadryl.  A'his'beede.  Shower."
     "I don't believe we have-"
     *No, she couldn't-  She HAS to be lying!*  Not having
antihistamines in your house was like not having running water.
"WhaFUG?!  Youg-"

     Jane couldn't recall seeing anyone actually choke on their words,
but Valerie did; and then she gagged, bending over before she retched a
couple of times, and then sneezed so hard she actually fell over.
     "GET IT!" she shrieked.  "AD'IHIS-his-" and then sneezed again.
     "I think she really needs it, Miz Thompson," Charlene said
desperately.
     "I think so," Jane nodded.  "And she said 'shower', I think?  Can
you take her upstairs?  We might- or Marie might have some," Jane
thought.
     "I think so," Charlene replied, and helped Valerie - who had been
sneezing erratically the entire time, and did not stop now - upright and
through the doors.

     *Oh good, he wasn't just fucking around,* Tucker thought when he
saw the planks - nice, solid-looking ones too - grappled on to the white
spindles around the hole.
     Then he slipped on the stairs and bounced.  "GGggggg-"  Rage got
him upright and down the hall before he had a multi-sneeze convulsion,
but he was so close he just stumbled on.
     "Fuck'd," Tucker said when he got close enough to the bathroom, and
just stumbled in, got into the shower, and turned both taps on full.
"Ge'oud," he snarled at Charlene before turning the wussy shower thing
on his face.  It sprayed a gentle mist on him.  *Goddamnit, FUCK this
shit,* he snarled, and fumbled at the place it attached to what had
probably previously been a decent shower head before Jane had fucked it
up.  *Should've jumped in the fucking pool!* Tucker raged.
     The wall end of the stupid metal hose came loose after Tucker
screamed at it, and then he unscrewed the damned pansy-assed piece of
shit entirely and got some real water spewing into his face, before he
died.  *This was a stupid idea...*
     He managed to find the soap, which by some stroke of luck wasn't
some goddamned lump of floral-scented 'moisturizing' lard-bar of
allergic death, and started scrubbing his face with it.

     "She just walked right in with her clothes on!" Charlene
complained.  "And then turned the water on!"
     "Did she even take off her shoes?"
     "No!"
     Charlene was nearly as outraged as Jane would normally be, but she
had to admit, the girl had NOT been faking those sneezes; and if she was
that allergic - and the redness and swelling couldn't be easily faked
either - then it was important to get as much of the allergen off her
skin as soon as possible.
     "Well," Jane said, "what happened to the railing up on the landing?
Was Valerie horsing around or some such?"
     "No... she, she just tripped and ran into it, and then it gave way,
an' then she almost fell..."  Charlene looked quite stricken at the
question.
     "Which would have hurt her very badly," Jane nodded.  "But she
didn't fall, did she?"
     Charlene shook her head.
     "Are YOU alright?"
     She eventually answered, "Yes ma'am," but in such a way that Jane
didn't think it was entirely true.
     "Why don't you go sit in the library for a while, and compose
yourself," Jane suggested gently.  "We'll talk more later."

     Tucker was kind of stunned to realize just how far the poison had
migrated, either along his skin or through his clothes, because his
entire body was itching.  He'd managed to shed everything except for the
panties and hose, and those were coming off as he sat in the tub and
tried to use the soap and hot water to 'scratch' instead of his
fingernails.  If he used his nails, as short as they were, he wasn't
going to have any skin left.
     A shadow warned him that someone was approaching him, and he
debated getting up before realizing he was much more stable where he
was.
     "Valerie?  I have some Benadryl-"
     She said more, but the magic word got him up, pulled the shower
curtain away, and THERE were the blessed little Pink Pills Of Life, in a
foil pack of bubbles.  He grabbed the foil card from her, pierced it
with the stub of thumbnail he kept long so he could get into foil packs
of drugs, shook the pink tab out and threw it into his mouth before it
could dissolve in his hand, and looped again.  *Two ought to do it;
three would make me so stoned...*
     Then he remembered he was half naked in front of Marie, and snapped
the curtain shut.  He realized he still had the foil card in his hand,
so after looking around for a safe place to put it, realized that the
safest place in the area was inside his panties.
     *Oh, swallow,* he remembered, a bit late.

     "They were in the tub with her, Jane," Marie reported.  "She still
had her panties and stockings on, but the rest was in the tub.  She just
grabbed the package, got out tw-  She knelt down," Marie amended, "in
the tub, and punched out two and put them in her mouth, and then snapped
the curtain shut."
     "Where are the rest of them?"
     Marie shook her head.  "She has them."
     "In the shower with her?"
     "I didn't think it was safe to try and get them back," Marie said.
     "Can she get high off... Benadryl?" Jane finally remembered.
     Marie frowned.  "I don't think so."

     Tucker wondered if his nose was EVER going to un-clog, but at least
his skin wasn't itching any more.
     Much.
     *It is NOT itching,* he told himself as he gritted his teeth.
*Towel.*  He could scrub himself dry with that, and maybe it wouldn't
make him bloody.  *I am NOT ITCHING.*

     Jane opened the door to Valerie's room, and found her hanging her
wet clothes up on hangers from the shower curtain rod, a towel wrapped
around her waist.  "Doe you eber KNOCK?!" the girl complained.  "Wait.
Cortizode."
     "What?"
     "Cortizode!  Creab!  Do't you hab ADYTHIG id dis house?"
     Jane felt an irrational yet urgent need to blow her own nose.
"What happened earlier?  With the stair railing?"
     "I tripped a'd hit the railing, a'd it gave way.  I albost fell."
     Jane was beginning to make sense out of what the girl was uttering.
"You tripped?  And hit the railing?"
     Eventually Valerie nodded.  "Ib broke den."
     "It broke then, when you hit it?"  Another nod.  "Were you hurt?"
     "Doe ba'ab."
     Jane involuntarily sniffled, hard.  "Did you take any of the
Benadryl Marie gave you?"
     Valerie nodded again, then held up two fingers.
     "Where are they?"
     "I deed 'emb."
     "What?"
     Instead of replying, the girl just screamed, startling Jane.  Then
she said, semi-coherently, "You abd your stupid fuckig horses-"

     Jane said, "She's ib-" then cut herself off with a tremendous
snort, pointed to Valerie's room, and dashed into Charlene's.  *What in
the world?*
     A loud BLATTTT made Marie wonder if somehow Valerie's allergic
attack could be contagious.

     "Here be go agaid," Tucker sighed as Marie came into the room.
     "I heard you talking back to Jane," Marie said, drizzling salt onto
that wound as she handed him the dress and three petticoats to go with
it.  "You need to remove your wet underclothes and change into these,"
she added as she proffered an unreasonably large pile of white satin to
him.  He sighed and shifted the dress and petticoats to one arm, and
took the dry underwear with the other hand.
     "And I found some of these," she added, holding another foil pack
of drugs at him.  *Now I've got both hands full, you stupid bitch,*
Tucker snarled; she had to have done this on purpose.  He grabbed them
with the hand on the arm that was holding the dress, but when he looked
at the foil he almost screamed in joy.  *Drixoral!  Holy fuck, there is
a god.*
     He dashed into the bathroom, used one foot to kick the door shut,
used the other to trip the toilet lid down, dropped the pile of toddler
clothing on the toilet lid, locked the door, cut two of the green
flying-saucers out with his thumbnail and threw them in his mouth, and
managed to swallow them before he could turn on the sink and collect
some water.  "Halleluyah," he managed, grinning at himself in the
mirror.  It would take an eternity for them to work, at least an hour,
but when they finally did it would be like God Himself had turned on a
sump pump; his nose would go from completely clogged to completely clear
in fifteen seconds.  He'd timed it.
     "Hod shid!" he grinned into the mirror, and the probable camera(s)
behind the mirror.  But any cameras couldn't see through the vanity
cabinets, and he'd squat enough that everything below his waist was
covered.

     Charlie had gone into the parlor, as Jane had 'suggested', and then
spent forever crying because he hadn't meant to really hurt Valerie but
she'd almost died from the fall.
     "Are y-" Jane said from behind Charlie, scaring him into a yelp.
"-feeling better?"
     Charlie didn't answer, until he got himself back under control.  "I
WAS," he said, unable to stop himself.

     "A hah'kie boud be a good idea," Tucker mentioned.
     "What?"
     Tucker sighed, and went to go grab a tissue to blow his nose.
Again.  *If I had one of those big boxy purses, I could just stick the
entire box of Kleenex into it, 'n carry THAT around.  But that's too
practical for this bunch.*
     "Oh, a handkerchief?" Marie asked, apparently to torment him over
his inability to emit nasal consonants.

     Charlie just sighed, feeling bad as Valerie went past him, now
dressed once again in four-year-old fashion, complete with Cabbage Patch
Doll.
     He felt worse, since he had to go put on something similar.

     "I'bot hugry," Tucker said, and this time it was the truth.  "That
accide't scared be, a'd I do't feel good."
     "You mean you don't feel WELL," Jane corrected.
     *Ohhhh damnit,* Tucker cursed internally, as Jane went off on THAT
grammatical faux pas.

     Marie asked Valerie, "Is there something I can fix for you,
cherie?"
     The child shook her head, not looking up.  After a delay, she
added, "Doe, t'ank 'oo."
     "You have to eat something.  Perha-"
     "Doe.  T'ANK 'oo," she emphasized as her head came up, her eyes
glaring and reddened.
     "Do not take that tone with me," Marie warned.  This one was
starting to annoy her.
     "Are you being rude to Miss Marie?" Jane demanded.
     "I'b tryi'g 'ot to be," Valerie snapped.
     "WHAT did you just say?" Jane asked in amazement, looking at Marie.
Marie just shrugged, not sure why the brat had turned sullen and
argumentative again.  At least, that's what she thought Valerie was
doing; it was hard to understand her, and Marie now had an urge to clear
out her own nose.
     Valerie said, "Eadi'g stops i'testi'al absor'p'sun.  Drugs take
lon'er..."  She stopped, and Marie was horrified to see a trickle of
mucus leak from the girl's nose.  "Dabbit," she said, and reached for a
napkin and wiped her nose with it.
     "So you won't eat?" Jane stated; apparently SHE had made sense of
what Valerie had gargled out.
     "Doe.  Ba'ab."
     "Then you may go to the nursery to wait until we finish our meal,"
Jane said.
     "Tha'k you," Valerie said as she stood up from her chair.

     "Charlene," Jane asked, just as Charlie was hoping that this meal,
at least, would pass without any further problems.
     "Yes ma'am?" he said after he'd quickly swallowed.  At least she
was acting normal, trying to catch him with a mouthful of food so he
couldn't talk.  She did that about half a dozen times per meal.
     "I understand Valerie was with you the whole time you were out of
the house?"
     "Yes ma'am?"
     "Was she cursing when she talked to Old Tom?"
     *Oh no.*  Charlie was ripped between Valerie's 'loyalty test' and
the certainty that Jane, somehow, knew everything that ever happened.
Then he remembered the wood that had been added to the stair railing,
and realized Tom had to have talked to Jane directly.  "Yes ma'am, a few
times," he admitted.
     "How many times do I have to tell her...  What else did she do?"
     "Um, we-"
     "'Um' is not a word, Charlene!  I expected better from you after
all this time."
     "I'm SORRY, Miz Thompson!  I-  She-  She was really upset, and, and
she was saying a lot of stuff I couldn't even understand, and... and I
thought it would be best if she cooled off outside, away fr-"
     "Away from me, is that it?" Jane asked, her voice dangerously quiet.
     "Yes ma'am," Charlie admitted.  "Because she always does something,
and you always yell at her, and she always yells back, and it just gets
bigger and bigger, each time..."
     "I am well aware of this, Charlene," Jane almost spat.  "But
letting her get away with infractions is not going to help.  It's
obvious she's been getting away with such things, and worse, for years."
     "Jane," Marie said.
     "What?!" Jane snapped.
     "Charlene, go up and check on Valerie," Marie ordered.  Charlie
took the escape and almost ran with it, because this looked like it was
a major fight starting and he didn't want to be in it.

     The nursery door opened, but it was only Charlene.
     "Valerie?" she asked in a whisper.
     "Uh, yeah," Tucker admitted.  He'd been watching the dolls and such
with his back to a blank wall near the door, because he thought he'd
seen one of them move.
     She came in and shut the door behind her.  "Look," she said in
quiet urgency, "you have GOT to start playing her game, or-"
     "But ki'd of fucki'g gabe?!" Tucker blurted as his body went cold.
     Charlene stared at him, then said, slowly but firmly, "It's a
GIRL'S SCHOOL here, you- you IDIOT; girls come here to learn POLITENESS
and MANNERS.  If you don't start at least being POLITE, she is gonna
send you back to JAIL!  Don't you GET that?!"
     "But the hell is she go'da DO?"  *FUCK I wish I could TALK!*

     Charlie stuttered a bit before he could say, "Come over to the bed,
away from the door."  He pulled her arm, and she came with him, but not
easily; it was almost as if he was dragging her.  He pushed down on her
shoulders and made her sit on the daybed.  "Look.  You...  WHY are you
fighting her so hard?"
     "BE?!" Valerie gasped in shock.  "Look at what the fuck I'b-"
     "And watch your language, too; sh-"
     "Fuck YOU!  Goddabbit ab I the odly sabe one arou' here?" Valerie
almost shrieked.  "TAKE a LOOK at what I'b WEARI'G!"
     "Take a look at what I'M wearing!" Charlie spat back.  "You think
wearing this sh-stuff is any easier for me?!  Well it isn't!  And I can
d-d-damn," the fear of being caught cursing finally being overrun by a
need for profane emphasis, "well deal with it when she makes me do it!"
     "You're a girl!" Valerie accused him.
     The accusation, so totally untrue and so totally believable,
stopped him momentarily.  *To hell with it, so what?* Charlie told
himself, and went on with what he had half-planned to say.  "So are YOU 
until SHE says different!" he fired back.  "Unless you WANT to go to 
JAIL?  And she WOULD send you back looking EXACTLY like THAT, the way 
you've been pissing her off.
     "Look," he commanded as he grabbed his temper and choked it back
for a few moments.  "I don't like what she's doing, and I know you
don't."  He had to think for a moment, and amazingly Valerie didn't say
anything while his mind raced.  "Fine, it's humiliating.  I KNOW it's
humiliating.  You don't like it.  I wouldn't either."  He hadn't.  "You
don't know how to act like she wants you to act, and you get all upset
when she complains about that.  Just..."  He took a breath.  "If you do
not want to go to jail, and Jane says that's your ONLY other choice,
other than her and here, then you've just GOT to learn to fit in, okay?
I went through most of this stuff too, and if you just do what she tells
you she's a lot easier to deal with, alright?  No matter how STUPID it
is.  TRUST me, I KNOW."

     *Is she Corrupted?* Tucker wondered with a shiver.  *Oh fuck.*
She SOUNDED so sincere...  

     "And whatever you're doing," Charlie remembered, "it's setting her
off too.  She's acting mad like I've never seen her before, and I don't
know why.  You, I mean, you can't be doing this in school to teachers
you don't like, or you'd be in jail already.  Can't you just treat her
like a teacher you don't like?  Do what she tells you and just be polite
to her face?  You REALLY don't want to flunk out of here," he reminded
her.  "And she doesn't care if you like her, or the stuff she makes you
do, she just wants you to obey without arguing, and to get better at
it."

     *How long could I fake it, though, before I lose my own soul?  Or
get caught in something that I can't escape?*

     Valerie looked more scared now than when he'd come into the
nursery, so Charlie just finished with, "Look, just sit in here for a
while, calm down, and think about what I said, okay?  I'll..."  He
thought for a minute.  "I'll be back in half an hour or so.  Just stay
here until then, and think about what I said, okay?  Promise me?"
     He stared at her until she nodded acquiescence, her head dipping
almost against her chest.
     "Please, Valerie," he said softly as he sat next to her.  "You
really don't want to go to jail, and this really IS a lot easier and
nicer..."  Charlie had only been in jail for a little while, and he
hadn't liked it at all.  He hated to admit it, but this place WAS
better.  "And I'll help you, if you let me.  I don't want you to go to
jail either," he said, and was a little surprised to find that he meant
it.  
     "It's so..." Valerie whispered towards her lap.
     "I'll help," Charlie repeated.  "You're not alone here..."  He
started to put an arm around her, and almost threw himself off the bed
when he realized what he was doing; but he had third thoughts about it,
and gingerly tried it.
     Valerie didn't do anything except take a deep breath and let it
out, so he pulled her a little closer.

     Jane finished the last of her drink, and nodded wearily at Marie.
"Yes, it does help a bit," she admitted.  Marie just smiled, rather than
saying out loud the 'I told you so' that Jane knew she was thinking.
"And I do feel calmer."
     "So, now we must figure out what to do next," Marie mentioned.

     Charlene held him for a while, which helped a little, but she
finally let go, patted him on the shoulder, stood up and left, turning at
the threshold to give him an encouraging smile before she shut the door.
     *I gotta figure out whether she's Corrupted or not,* Tucker thought
to himself, but that was about all he could manage for a while; he was
so tired that he slipped into a suspend mode almost immediately.

     "You HAVE to go easier on her, Miz Thompson," Charlie insisted.
"She's, I mean, she really looks at the end of her rope right now.  Like
she's too tired to even cry."
     Jane nodded, not mentioning that she had dashed upstairs and
checked the video from the nursery and seen exactly that.  Marie also
nodded, which Jane did not miss.
       "I think," Jane said after a few moments, "that we should take the
opportunity to let emotions and tempers cool down.  However, Charlene, I
cannot have her defying me all the time, like she has been doing."
     "I know," Charlene agreed quietly.
     "And I need you to help me, not help her defy me."
     Charlene just closed her eyes and nodded acquiescence.
     *Good.*  "Can you get her to-"
     "I tried, Miz Thompson, I really did!" she burst out.  "I just
don't know if it'll work..." she fretted, quieting again into dejection. 
"I'm not good at this, Miz Thompson.  I wish Darla was here; she's a lot
better at this than I am."
     Jane stated, "Well, she is not; we must do what we can, Charlene.
But I think you underestimate yourself."
     "I think you can do it, if you can remember that she needs your
help," Marie added. 
     "I know she can be as frustrating to you as she is to me and
Marie," Jane continued, "but you ARE more mature than she is, and I
should HOPE better trained by now."  When that tiny bit of humor did not
elicit any response from the older student, Jane stated, quietly but
firmly, "Charlene, I would not set you up to fail.  And I DID not."
     She did finally nod agreement to that, but she didn't look up.
     After several silent moments, Jane suggested, "Why don't you go up
and take care of Valerie, and see if you can get her to the point of
coming downstairs and apologizing."  When her head came up and she was
about to protest, Jane added, "I do not expect such an apology to be
sincere, Charlene; I merely require it as a sign that Valerie is willing
to submit, rather than still being intransigent.  If she can get the
words out, in a... in a calm voice, then I think we will both be ready
to go on."
     She sighed deeply, but after a few moments, she nodded as her head
came up.  "I'll do what I can, Aunt Jane," she said - apparently
unconscious of the more intimate address she'd just used - "but I don't
know...  And if I can, I think it'll take a while, like a few hours?"
     "That will be fine, Charlene," Jane replied, smiling warmly at her
student.  "I know you can do this."

     "I hope I can do this," Charlie said to himself as he climbed the
stairs, back to the nursery where Valerie should be waiting.

     "I hope she can do this," Jane worried to Marie.
     "She has a better chance of doing it than either of us," Marie said
calmly.  She had apparently purged herself of the irritation she'd felt
earlier, because she sounded more like her usual cheerful and optimistic
self.  "That one does not trust adults, for some reason."
     "Adults, or us?" Jane wondered out loud.

     The noise of the door opening caused Tucker to crash-start upwards,
but it was only Charlene.  "Shit," he gasped as he fell back down on the
bed.  "Ward a persod, wouldya?" he panted.
     "Why are you so jumpy?" she asked, sounding exasperated.
     Tucker stared at her for a long time, and she stared back.
*Obviously,* he finally decided, *she doesn't get it.*  "I t'ink I hab
good reasod," he said out loud.
     "Look, she-"
     And the God of Phenylpropanolamine switched the pump on.

     Charlie had to stop, because of the look of ecstasy on Valerie's
face.
     Then, she sniffed.  Like a normal person.
     Then she twisted and dove for something, startling Charlie, and
blew her nose.
     Many times.
     "Breathing," Valerie said, a look of rapture on her face, and then
she inhaled through her nose.  "Nose breathing.  Can't beat it."  She
smiled at Charlie like she wanted to share the ecstasy; he was just glad
she wasn't going to be speaking in code any more.

     "Did you see her face?" Jane asked Marie.  "What c-"
     "I bet her nose cleared out," Marie said.
     "I hope so."  The two of them had used an inordinate number of
tissues, considering that neither of them had allergies or a cold.

     Sandy carefully applied Chapstick to her nose and upper lip.
*Dunno who came up with the idea, but it works... almost.*  It stung a
little, but eventually settled down to something that hurt a lot less
than air did.  And, unlike Vaseline or lotion or something similar, it
would tend to stay on even when she blew or wiped her nose.  Which she
was doing about every five minutes, it seemed.
     *Gotta remember to throw this away when I'm well, too; don't want
to reinfect myself and have it AGAIN.*

     Charlie finally shrugged before he turned around and shut the door.
"Well, anyway, Jane won't bother us for a while; she almost never comes
in here, anyway," he said, which was true only because Jane usually had
everyone doing other things.
     "So what's gonna happen next?" Valerie asked.  She was still
catching her breath.
     "Jane said-  And don't yell at me for this," he said when he
realized how Valerie would probably react.  "She said that when you're
ready to come down and apologize, and-"
     "Apologize for what?  Not rolling over and showing my throat when
she jumps my ass?!" 
     "For getting into a-  Look, never MIND," Charlie insisted.  "That's
what she wants, and she said for me to stay with you up here until
you're ready to give one."
     "Fuck THAT-"
     "She said it didn't have to be sincere," Charlie interrupted.
     Valerie stopped in mid-curse and gaped for a few moments.  "What?"
     He repeated, "She said it didn't have to be sincere.  She just said
that when you can do that, when you can just say the words without- I
mean, she said 'in a calm voice', you'll be calm enough to... to
continue.  So why don't we stay up here until you think you can do it
without jumping her?  You don't have to mean it, just say it without
getting into another argument with her.  Unless you really think you'd
be better off in jail," Charlie reminded her.
     "No," she admitted sullenly as she turned her face away.  "But,
damnit!"
     "I know!  Really, I KNOW," Charlie said, remembering the last six
months as one long string of frustration and fear.  "It's a complete
pain in the..."
     "Ass?"
     Charlie sighed and nodded, and wondered if he'd ever be able to
curse again.  "Yeah.  But it's not impossible, and it gets easier," he
lied.  Jane had kept the pressure up continually until the day she'd 
said Joan could go home, and then...  Well, that was its own kind of
pressure, he was finding.
     Valerie started, "So, what..."  She trailed off.
     Charlie sighed.  "I dunno..."  He looked around the room.  Plenty
of toys for little girls.  There was nothing that really interested him
at the moment.

     "I'm just so tired," Tucker moaned. 
     He didn't realize he'd said it out loud until Charlene asked him,
"Do you want to try taking another nap like yesterday?"
     "I dunno what I want...  I want to go home, is what I want.  I
know I know, I can't," he waved a limp hand at her.  His head hurt.
*Fuck, my whole BODY hurts,* he admitted to himself.  *I can't even tell
where I have bruises, I hurt so bad.  I'm probably going to look like an
Orion trader tomorrow,* he mused glumly.

     They'd sat there in silence for at least a minute before the
question popped out of Charlie's mouth.  "What did you tell her about
what happened with the stairs today?"
     "Oh..."
     Clearing her nose out seemed to have taken all of her brains too,
Charlie noticed.  She had at least been somewhat animated before; now,
she was staring at things like the floor.  And not answering questions.
"Valerie?" he prodded.
     "Huh?"
     "Stairs?"
     "Oh, uh..."  Charlie, unlike Jane, could - just barely - let that
one pass without challenge.  "I said it was an accident, that I
tripped."
     Charlie had thought so; Jane hadn't punished him.  "Why?" he asked.
     "Huh?  Oh..."  She shrugged, and went back to staring at her toes.
     And didn't say anything further for a long time.
     "Valerie?" Charlie nudged.
     "Huh?  Oh...  Why?"  She sighed.  "Because...  Look, you were
pissed and pushing me around, and don't deny it."  Charlie pinched his
lips shut over the denial that was already forming in his mouth.  "But 
I'm fairly sure you weren't trying to kill me."
     "Kill you?" Charlie burst out.
     "Whaddaya think would've happened to most people if they'd gone
through that railing," she said, without emotion, or even apparent
interest.  "And I know you wanted to try dragging me back up, but that
never works... we've tried it before, and-"
     "We?"
     "Me and some other people," she didn't really explain.  "The point
is, it doesn't work with one person, not unless you're a weightlifter or
something.  The only thing you'd have done is made us both fall, and
bad.  You could've fallen on me..."  She shook her head.
     "How did you do that anyway?"
     She shrugged dully.  "Practice."  She smiled a little, and added,
"Desperation."
     Neither of them said anything for a while.  Charlie was remembering
the crash, the look on Valerie's face as she spun around on the edge of
catastrophe, and how he'd felt.  He did not feel good about it.
     "So why did you lie to her about it?" he finally asked again.
     "'Cause, she's one of those people that likes punishing others,"
Valerie answered.  Charlie wasn't sure if that was true - Jane always 
had a purpose, but he'd often wondered if she had set him up just so she
could do something to him.  He'd had a feeling, more than once, that 
he'd been railroaded somehow, though he often couldn't pick out just why 
he felt that way.  Certainly, he HAD done whatever Jane accused him of
doing, or he hadn't done what she accused him of not doing...  But-
     "And," Valerie continued, "you'd been punished enough."
     "What?"
     "You were really upset, I could tell," she elaborated.  "I think
you fucked up and thought I was gonna get hurt really bad, and you
didn't want that to happen.  Maybe trip me, on a flat surface, or hit me
a couple of times, but not that." 
     Charlie stared at her in dismay.  What she'd just said made him
sound like-  *Well, duh,* the nasty part of him said.  *You're not in
here because you won the lottery.*
     "So don't do that stuff around the stairs again," she finished.  
     "O-"
     "Or," she interrupted his agreement, "next time I'll hurt you."
     "What?" he snapped angrily.  
     "I'm not going to take a chance on death because you got stupid
around a staircase," she recited, her voice flat and bored.
     Charlie's mouth was open to spit something nasty back; he just
couldn't think of what immediately.
     "So what's she gonna do next?" Valerie asked, still in that dull
near-monotone.

     "I think tomorrow we go to Brenda Franson's," Jane decided, after a
long period of thought.
     "So soon?"
     "Public exposure," Jane said hopefully.  "She's too smart to risk
that; we saw that with Bob here, Monday night.  That's the best behaved
I've seen her.  And with the grounds staff today. I think that-"
     "What about Marisha?" Marie asked.
     Jane sighed.  She knew that Sandy was fighting a cold, and might
not want to, or be able to, participate.  But Sandy was one of her best
resources.  "I'm not sure if Sandy will be up to it..."
     "She's not ill, is she?"
     "No," Jane lied with a straight face.  "I believe she had some
business out of town.  We weren't expecting to need her so soon,
remember?"  Marie nodded, looking thoughtful.  "Why did you ask that?"
     In reply, Marie picked another tissue out of the box and blew her
nose with it.

     Tucker realized that he felt safer with Charlene around him, than
alone.  "If you could just throw a quilt or something over me, then..."
He trailed off, caught between explaining things and not saying anything
compromising out loud.  He was almost too tired to lie.
     "We should be doing something, in case Jane comes up here,"
Charlene argued.
     "Fine," Tucker groaned.  "What..."  He looked around.  
     This 'nursery' wasn't really a place to hold babies, Tucker
realized as he examined the room this time; it was more like an old
English 'nursery', where they banished the children along with a nanny
and/or governess until the offspring could be married off or sent to a
boarding 'public school'.  It had a variety of toys, mostly dolls and
stuffed animals, plus some children's books on the shelves, and a small
bed that could be used for naps.
     "I think we might have some board games or something," Charlene
said as she stood up and started looking around.
     "Oh, yum," Tucker sighed.  
     "Checkers?" 
     "Fantastic," Tucker lied.  *How about Diplomacy?  Axis & Allies?
Even Risk would be better...*  

     Jane looked at the monitor, and it was apparent that the two of
them were getting along, at least to the point of 'playing' quietly
together.  "So, if she can do that, why has she been so intent on 
goading Charlene's temper?"  *Or, for that matter, mine?*
     "Jane, it's nearly time for tea," Marie reminded her.  "Should I
go up and get them?"
     Jane thought about it, then shook her head.  "Right now, this time,
I think we should ignore it for the moment.  I think that this," she
pointed at the screen, "is more important for the moment than more
training in mannerly behavior, at the moment."
     "What?  Jane, are you fevered?" Marie gasped, half-humorously.
     Jane shook her head absently as her attention returned to the two
children visible on the monitor.  "No...  But there is something 'off'
about that child.  It's not quite the aftereffects of child abuse... but
there is something unusual, and powerful, in that child's psyche, and I
don't know what it is.  I think having Charlene interact with her for a
while, and perhaps get inside her defenses, may give us some crucial
information."  She shrugged as she turned to Marie. "At least, I think
it couldn't hurt. And it gives all of us some quiet time, to regain our
emotional equilibrium."
     "Don't we want her off-balance?" Marie asked.
     "Not to the point that she completely reverts to impulse behavior,"
Jane reminded her.  "We need her upset, distracted, and somewhat off
balance, not reacting completely on her misguided instincts.  And, of 
course, WE cannot be off-balance if we're to deal with her."  She
thought some more, then said, "Marie, why don't you start on an early
supper, and we'll give her some extra time asleep tonight.  That may
also help her.  Say about six or six-thirty?"
     "Certainment," Marie responded.  "And what will you be doing with
her?" 
     "I think some of the lighter elements; hand gestures and the like,"
Jane explained.  "Nothing too difficult, and I think I'll try and go a
bit easier on her tonight, and see if I can get her to an acceptable
level of proficiency on something, so that I can praise her for her
accomplishment, perhaps reward her with that early bedtime..."

     Charlie was amazed at how badly Valerie was playing checkers.  It
wasn't a hard game, and she apparently understood the rules, but Charlie
had almost swept the board.  Finally, Valerie leaned back and huffed.
"I think I resign at this point," she said.
     Charlie busied himself putting the game pieces and board back in
the ancient cardboard box, and putting it back in the closet.  *Man, she
was really bad...  I thought she'd be better.  Maybe she's just tired?
But how tired do you have to get before you can't play CHECKERS?* he
asked himself.  He glanced over at her surreptitiously, and she had her
eyes closed again, though she didn't look very relaxed.
     The knock at the door of the nursery exploded that, as Valerie
blurred from slumped over to standing, groping at her skirts for
something...  *Maybe she's trying to smooth them?* Charlie speculated as
he called, "Come in."

     Tucker finally realized that he was unarmed - a bad thing at any
time, and terrible here - about the time the door opened and Miss Marie
came in.  "Valerie, Jane would like to know if you are ready to resume
instruction now?"  He had to pay careful attention to what she was
saying, because he wasn't decoding speech as well as usual.
     When he had it, he thought about it, and decided that if Jane didn't
start jabbing him for a while, he could lie and say he was sorry and all
that without laughing.  Or going berserk.  He nodded at her.
     "Then we need to change you one more time today," she smiled as
though she regretted the necessity, "and then you can go downstairs and
apologize to her."
     Tucker nodded again when he'd decrypted that one.

     Charlie caught Valerie coming out of her room before she went
downstairs, and nodded and smiled at her.  This time, she was wearing a 
lighter, longer dress, in a blue-and-white small pattern, with opaque
white hose or tights; it was somewhere between childish and teenage-
girl-trying-to-look-nice-for-family-or-church.  "You look good," he
said.
     "Uh, thanks," she said, and tried to smile back, which she didn't
do very well.  "I hope Jane likes Marie's makeup skills more than she
does mine, though," but shook her head and didn't say anything else. 

     Tucker knocked on the door, after he'd stabilized himself.  He'd
slipped down the last three stair steps and fallen on the floor, and he
didn't trust his gyros yet.
     "Come in," Jane called.
     He sighed, but had to open the door at this point, and then he had
to fight to keep from reporting in proper military fashion.  "Miz
Thompson, I wish to apologize for my rude words earlier," he said.  "And
my lack of manners."  *And my fucking existence on the same plane as
you.  Please don't let her hear that...*
     "Well, Miss Wallace," Jane started, and Tucker almost snapped and
went after her.  *I THOUGHT- no, you hoped, stupid,* he told himself.
*She hasn't done anything but fuck with me since I got here.*  Her voice
was relatively calm and gentle, without the serrated edge she'd used on
him a few times, but Tucker was pretty sure that she could turn that on
and off at will.  *IHTFP.*
     "Do you understand?"
     "Yes ma'am," he lied.  His audio buffer was empty when he checked
it, which was NOT good.

     Jane instructed Valerie, and made her copy the motions, but was
watching her even more closely than the girl would have suspected, and
she didn't like what she saw.  *Is she actually ill?*  The listlessness
was unusual.  *Not that many of ours ever get sick, but some do; and
this one almost looks like she's ready for a hospital stay.*  Not that
they could do THAT, of course, unless there was NO other option.  *On
the other hand, she's not showing any real symptoms either, except the
lassitude and general dullness.  That could be either illness or
exhaustion, and I don't know which.  Perhaps it's merely the
aftereffects of her allergic reaction.*  Her nose and face were still
somewhat reddened, but seemed to be returning to normal, and her nose
had stopped running.
     Thankfully, so had Jane's.

     "I hope she's not ill," Marie commented to Charlie as he helped
her prepare an early supper.  
     "I don't think so," Charlie replied.  "It's just allergies.  I
thought she might be, but she said she wasn't... and, I mean, if it were
me in her position, if I had been sick that first week, I would have
made sure everyone knew about it, in case that made you lay off or
something."
     "That is a difficult problem," Marie started to explain.  "The
first week is crucial, and helps set the stage for the rest of the
student's stay here, as well as giving us our initial glimpses at the
student."  Charlie nodded after she'd peered at him for several moments.
"Well, if an illness interrupts that first week, we have a choice of
continuing roughly as usual, which stresses the student far more than
normal, as they try to cope both with an illness and Jane's
instructions.  Or, we reduce the pressure until the student recovers,
but then we lose the initial week, and it takes us longer to get the
student into the right mindset."
     "So what is Jane going to do?  If she is sick, I mean?"
     Marie looked thoughtfully away.  "I don't know."
     "Do you think her allergies could've made her sick?"
     "I don't think so," but she didn't sound very sure.

     Jane had abandoned the sitting and standing lessons for now; if 
Valerie WAS ill, the repeated posture changes might cause her to faint. 
Instead, she worked on graceful gestures, showing her how to hold her 
hands and arms, and how to move them so as to appear the most elegant 
and refined of ladies.
     Surprisingly, Valerie picked them up relatively quickly.  She did
not, as of yet, have much grace or fluidity in her motions, but she
rarely needed to be instructed more than twice.  Furthermore, as Jane 
actively restrained her usual habit of pointed, even barbed, 
corrections, Valerie was far more tractable than she had been 
previously.  It was still obvious that Valerie would rather be someplace
else, but she was staring at Jane's own hands as the latest movement was
demonstrated, before trying it herself.  Twice, she had asked a
reasonable question about how to do a particular movement, as if she
was actually interested in learning.
     *VERY interesting,* Jane thought to herself as she repeated a
gesture, and Valerie tried once again to copy it, intense concentration
on her face. 

     Tucker felt the shakes start, so he said, "Miss Thompson?  May I
be excused to go to the restroom please?"
     "Very well," she allowed, but continued, "However, that is not
what a proper well-bred lady would say in such a circumstance; she
would instead say 'I need to powder my nose'.  So-"
     Tucker fell out of his shock and started laughing uncontrollably
about that time, because Susan had been fond of saying that, once, and 
he and Mike had set up a balloon, a lot of facial powder, a tack, and 
the bathroom door so that her nose would be well-powdered indeed, and 
all he could see for at least ten seconds was her WHITE white face with
two blood-red and flaming eyes glaring out...

     "Again?!" Charlie gasped in shock as Marie took Valerie up the
stairs.  *But she just...  It was just an hour!*

     "Don't say it," Jane instructed Marie.  "I sent her to bed
'without supper' because I am still not sure why she is... why _I_ am
reacting so badly to her.  I think that's part of what I need to think
about... and I can't do that while I'm seething at whatever she's done 
this time.  You may, of course, 'sneak' her supper up to her," she 
said, smiling a bit, and being rewarded by a far larger and more
earnest smile from Marie.
     "So what do we do with Charlene in the meantime?" Marie asked.
     "Mmmm...  I think I will try to find out if she knows anything
more, and then give her the rest of the night off as well.  Certainly
she's been working well with us today."  Marie nodded in agreement.

     *Suspend mode's better than nothing,* Tucker told himself as he
sat carefully on the floor.  *And probably better than burning
consciousness-time right now, too.*  As the timer incremented, his
brain got more and more fatigued; at least suspending would stop the
timer, and maybe decrement it a bit, though definitely not like sleep
would.  The room wasn't very dark even with the lights off and the
curtains drawn, but it would get darker, and any bit helped.  

     Charlie almost enjoyed dinner, except for the conversation.  That
wasn't unusual; the topic was.
     "I did tell her," he protested.
     "Then WHY-"
     "Jane," Marie interrupted, and Jane glared at her for a few
moments - and not Charlie, for which he was unreasonably grateful -
before turning her attention back to her trout almondine.  "What did
you tell her, Charlene?" Marie asked him.
     "That..."  He tried to remember.  "That the way to get things to
work here, was to just go along with you for a while, get you to calm
down, stop fighting you all the time...  And I THOUGHT she got it," he
emphasized.  "She SAID she did...  I think," he added after a moment.
He wasn't actually sure.  "She sure looked like she got it..." he
added, being lame and he knew it.  "I don't think I could be any
clearer about explaining things," he said defiantly.
     "I'm sure you did an excellent job," Jane agreed, and that 
confused him so much that he shut up.  "However," Jane added, "it's
exceedingly rare that any new student BELIEVES such an explanation so
early on.  You did quite well, Charlene," she said.  "But much of the
rest is up to her, and whether she will believe you."  She moved her
mouth in something that might have been a smile on someone else.  "Or
us."
     "I believe that is for tomorrow, Jane," Marie stated emphatically.
     Jane sighed, and nodded.  
     "You really think," Charlie asked, "that taking her to Miss
Franson's is a good idea?"
     Jane forked some trout into her mouth, and chewed for a while,
which Charlie could now recognize as a stalling tactic.  Eventually she
swallowed and said immediately, "I think so.  From what you've said, she
stayed completely in character in front of Tom today, and I know she did
in front of Bob when he came to dinner.  Apparently she is less willing
to be defiant if she is risking exposure in front of outsiders."
     "Are you sure?" Charlie confirmed, because he remembered having to
pull her away before she could start screaming at Tom, because of that
comment about 'letting the men do it'.
     "No," Jane admitted.  "But it's the best behaved she's been so far,
and one of the few things I have left to try, and she IS pretty enough,
and barely proficient, and the two in combination would allow her to
pull it off.  You said Tom and his assistant had no apparent problems,
with her being female?"  Charlie shook his head, wondering why he didn't
either; he'd thought that would be one of the hardest things to do with
his own 'little sister', seeing a boy being transformed into a girl in a
day, but it hadn't been with Valerie.

     Jane hadn't mentioned another reason to Charlene for putting both
children to bed early; she intended to write up everything she knew,
and send it to Art via fax, and see if he could come up with any 
suggestions.  And using the computer that Darla and Art had bought for 
her office, almost always carefully concealed in the typewriter drawer 
of the massive and ornate desk in her second floor office, was 
frustrating enough that she didn't want anything like a recalcitrant 
Valerie to distract her.

     The sound of the door opening hit Tucker's spine and forced him
upright before he really figured out what was happening.  The pain as 
his arms moved was great enough to freeze his vocal cords, so he didn't
scream in agony before he got up.  At least he was ready for the flare 
of the lights coming on and Marie's fakely-smiling face as it appeared.
     *Oh no,* he thought as he noticed she was holding a tray, of what
was probably food.  And, if it was food, almost certainly poisoned.
Tucker sighed, but concealed it; he could cut and flush this crap as
easily as he had the other times she'd done this to him.
     She blathered some bullshit about how she was being nice to him
and disobeying Jane for him and blah blah blah, while his eyes adjusted
to the painfully bright lights.  Then he watched the walls to make sure
he wasn't going to lose his balance and fall over.  When she finished,
ending with some kind of question, he smiled politely at her and said,
"Thank you, Miss Marie, for-"
     "Oh, you can call me Marie when Miss Jane isn't around," she told
him, like she was doing him a favor.
     He managed to keep the smile on his face.  *Uh huh, and get used
to doing it another way, and then fuck it up when she IS around.  Not.*
Apparently this sort of crap worked on Charlene - and he still wasn't
sure how far the Corruption extended in her - but it was not going to
work on him.  "Thank you."  Since it appeared that she wasn't inclined
to leave, he walked forward carefully, glad he'd shed the shoes
earlier, and took the tray from her.  It was 'food', or at least
smelled much like food.  He locked his throat to make sure he wouldn't
throw up; she took the opportunity to remind him that he could change
for bed, since Jane was supposedly done torturing him for the evening.
He nodded at her, and then turned around to put the tray down someplace
he wouldn't have to breathe the fumes.
     She was still there.  "Is there anything else I can do for you,
cherie?" she asked, now looking fakely concerned instead of fakely
happy.
     He inhaled carefully through his mouth, and replied, "No, thank
you.  You've already done a lot," he couldn't keep himself from adding,
but he was tired enough that it didn't come out the way he meant it,
because she smiled at him again.  He endured the rest of her comments
and trap-bait until she finally left, shutting the door behind her but
leaving the lights on.  And throwing the lock from the outside.  
     "Oh man," he whispered to himself.  *First thing, turn off the-
No, that's a BAD idea, damnit.  Lights go off, they think I'm sleeping,
or something.  Gotta keep 'em on.  Where's the cameras...*  He looked
around, and decided that if he sat on the floor right next to the vanity
table - a bizarrely accurate term - and put the tray on the chair, he
could cut everything into small chunks without being observed.  Next
thing was to wedge the door shut so he could work without being
interrupted.

     "And she was standing up when I turned the lights on," Marie told
Jane, who shook her head at the latest piece of the puzzle, which like
the rest she'd gathered didn't make any sense yet.  They looked at the
monitor, which showed the top of Valerie's head.  Apparently she was
using the chair in front of the vanity and its mirrors as a table.
     "Perhaps she was crying, and feels ashamed of that?" Marie
suggested.
     "Did you see any signs of that, or hear anything?"  
     Marie had to shake her head.  "Her eyes are red, and swollen a
bit, but they have been since the first day here.  They're worse now, of
course.  But she still has her makeup on from this afternoon, when I did
it the last time."

     Tucker had stripped down to the undergarments he'd been assigned
last time, in case of exactly what was happening now.  He idly wondered
if his eyes were bleeding, from the pressure generated as his stomach
tried to eject something that was completely outside it.  *You stupid
fuck, if you'd stop and let me get on with this, it'd be gone already!*
     His stomach, like everyone else in this level of hell, refused to
listen to him, and spasmed again, making him gasp in pain.  *Damnit! I
need to get this done before she comes back for the dishes!*  At least
if he was a bit sloppy, it would look like he'd been hungry... he hoped.
     *Come on, come on...*  It seemed to have stopped for a moment, so
he finished cutting the fish, and got to work on the salad.  He got a
few strokes in before he retched again.  *Fuck I hope they don't have
microphones!*

     Charlie looked at the door to Valerie's room, wondering if he
should knock and maybe see how she was doing.  *Then again...  She's
alone, and nobody's messing with her at the moment, so maybe...*  He
could have done without Joan and Darla a few times during HIS first
week.  It was early, maybe seven o'clock, but the first week at Jane's
was exhausting, even for normal people like him.  Which thought made him
snort, and go into his own room.  *Yeah, I am SO normal...*

     Tucker flushed again after dumping the rest into the toilet, and
the noisy plumbing got rid of the last of the bait.  And his stomach
relaxed, just a little.
     *Thank all the gods the mirrors don't face the toilet in here.*
He'd finally decided that if he carried the tray low, and not turned on
the bathroom light right away, that he could get the tray in there
without getting video'd doing it.  He had to be quick, which was a
problem because he was losing DX points from fatigue, but he'd managed,
barely.  And hadn't dropped anything into the toilet either.
     He couldn't help but wonder if they'd gone to the trouble of
poisoning all of it, or just one or two things.  *If it was only one
thing, dessert would have been it...  Most kids would go for dessert if
nothing else.*  The sugary-fatty smell had been almost enticing, but
his stomach had reminded him repeatedly and forcefully that eating
ANYTHING was a risk he couldn't afford to take.  He hadn't thought that
there was anything to come up, but his stomach had managed, and he
hadn't been able to dodge, so he was smelling his own barf every time he
made the mistake of breathing through his nose.  At least it had all
gone down the toilet with only two flushes, and hadn't clogged anything.
*Yet,* he remembered to hope.
     *Now for a shower...*  No, now he had to put the tray and its
plates out where they couldn't be seen by the behind-the-mirror cameras
but would be obvious when someone came in.

     "It seems like she finished her supper," Marie reported to Jane,
"and it sounds like she is taking a shower."
     "She ate all of it?" Jane confirmed.
     "Every bite," Marie smiled.
     Jane smiled back.  "So at least she is eating again."
     "Perhaps she is also shy..." Marie speculated.  "You can be
rather..."     
     "Appetite suppressing?" Jane supplied, getting a wry look from
Marie.  "That is true, but that rarely stops anyone; at most, it seems
to slow them down."
     "Perhaps if you, hmmm, were a little less intense at table, she
would relax a bit and be more willing to eat there," Marie suggested.
     Jane shrugged.  "I'll try that tomorrow, I suppose.  Also make
sure breakfast is fairly 'easy' in that respect, please."  Marie was 
already nodding.

     The tray was gone when Tucker finally made it out of the bathroom;
as he'd suspected, either they were watching him continually through
cameras.  Which was why he was so glad that he'd just barely remembered
to remove the door wedge before turning on the water in the shower.
'Barely' still counted.
     Tucker had also managed to remember to hang up the underwear he'd
puked on, hoping that he'd washed it out before the acid ate through the
delicate fabric.  *Dear Heloise, how do I get hydrochloric acid stains
out of silk?  Signed, Ptomanic In Panties.*
     *Now I just gotta suspend until everyone goes to bed.*  Which
presented a problem; how was he going to know when the noises had
stopped, if he was insensate?
     *Damnit.*
     He thought for a while, which hurt his head, and finally decided,
*Laptop alarm will do it, if it's not too loud.*  Something too loud
would scare him, and he'd prefer to save the adrenaline for when he
needed it.  *Set for... 0200 local,* he guessed.  *If I live that long.*
     He almost went to go get the laptop before he realized that it was
likely that at least one of them would check on him before bed, to make
sure he was being all girly or whatever bullshit they wanted.  *Right...
change into sleepwear, suspend until door opens.*
     Moving hurt terribly.

     "Good Lord," Art commented, and Darryl looked over at the older
man.  And grinned, as he had been doing a lot; the two of them were not
very used to seeing each other as 'men', and it was still a bit of a
surprise not to see 'Diana' standing there.
     "Whatsup?" he asked as he moved closer.  There wasn't anything
else of interest in the Kinko's, anyway.
     "Eight pages," Art answered, and Darryl sucked in a breath.  He'd
been worried when Momma-Jane had called earlier and asked them to do
this; eight pages was a LOT more worrisome.  *I knew this was a bad
idea, just before a new-*
     "It wasn't a bad idea, Darryl," Art said, reading his mind.  "We
both need a vacation, like this."
     "But-"
     Art interrupted, "It's not critical yet.  She's just having some
unexpected problems, and talking to us about them."
     The fax machine spat out another page.

     Tucker had managed to change into a nightgown and matching robe- 
like thing without screaming in agony; it had been hard, but he could
pant, so he'd done that instead when the pain got too much to contain
any longer.  *Gonna be push-ups tomorrow, betcha,* he'd said to himself,
and almost laughed out loud.  *Yeah right...*
     Sitting sazen on the bed would work, and keep him from going too
far down; the nightmares would grab him if he attempted sleep.  Or Jane
would.
     He was counting primes when his door unlocked and so did he, coming
upright about the time the lights came on and blinded him again.

     Marie, watching the child squint, wondered why she had been sitting
on the bed, in the dark.
     "I think it is time for you to go to bed, cherie," she said.  "And
I came in to see if you needed any help, but it seems as though you
have already picked out a pretty gown for yourself!"
     Valerie did not react to this comment beyond opening her eyes a
little further.
     "Do you need any further help?" she inquired.
     "No ma'am," Valerie responded, her voice rather flat, and sounding
raw.  *Perhaps she WAS crying...*  Her eye makeup had also run, Marie
noticed when she looked closer.
     She thought about approaching the girl and helping her into bed, or
giving her a friendly caress on her shoulder, but then remembered how
badly Valerie reacted to being touched by an adult, and discarded the
idea.  "Well, then, sleep well, cherie," Marie said, as gently as she
could manage.  "And we shall see you in the morning for breakfast."

     She shut the door, and locked it, and Tucker almost fell over as he
dropped to his knees.
     *I need a rest,* Tucker realized.  He knee-walked over to the bed,
and started panting immediately, because he was going to have to reach
around under there with his arms, and they hurt more than he remembered
any other pain in his life.  *'Course, if I remembered how bad
everything hurt like I remember C or Perl, I don't think I'd want to do
anything ever again.  S'what Dad said about memory of pain anyway...*
     Reaching under the bed hurt.  A lot.

     "Any thoughts?" Art asked Darryl.
     Darryl was trying to have some, but he kept wondering, "How on
earth could anyone upset Tante Marie?  I've NEVER seen her get that
angry at a student!"
     "I've hardly ever seen Jane this upset either," Art reminded him.
     They looked at each other.
     "If she needs help, she'll ask for it," Art said into the silence.
"And she hasn't yet."
     "You think-"
     "She SWORE she would ask," Art interrupted.  "Excuse me.  But I
made sure she would ask, if she had any real problems.  She did do this
for quite a while before she met either of us, remember?"
     Darryl sighed and looked away.  "Yes, but..."

     Charlie looked at himself in the mirror, and shook his head.
*Damnit.*  He had looked like a boy when he came here, he was pretty
sure - nobody had ever called him 'ma'am' or 'miss' except on the phone,
and the doctor he'd seen for a cold had told him that that was
completely normal for boys at his stage of development.
     But now, no matter what he did or how hard he scrubbed, he looked
too much like a girl, even if he was stark naked and fresh out of a
face-scrubbing session in the shower.  *Above the waist, anyway.*
     *Has to be- Part of it has to be the hair,* he corrected, because
the blonde curls never quite got unstyled, no matter what Jane
complained about, and they were always visible around his face.  He
tried pulling the hair all the way back, with both hands, and it helped.
*Shave my head when I get out of here,* he reminded himself, before he
sighed and let go of his hair, which bounced back into place, and slid
into a pair of satin panties, wriggled into a bra, and pulled a frilly
nightgown over his head.
     'Getting out of here' was a LONG way away tonight.


***


Distribution:
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Permission is given to redistribute this by electronic means, as long as
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+ @>--,--'-----   Ellen Hayes   o===[--------      __      vicki .sig  +
                  -=[1990]=-                       \/      virus 12.2
+      http://www.barkingduck.net/ehayes     PGP key: EFC9 5D55 (1996) +




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