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Tuck You Long Enough -*- Copyright 2006 by 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.


Tuck You Long Enough


***
11:41 21 Oct

     It was the flashing of the phone that woke me up, I think.  But it
took me a while to remember what to do about it.
     "Whrrgh?" I rasped into the phone.
     "Break!" Mike said, and I twitched awake.  "Page your mom, quote
the revolution is on endquote.  Stop."
     "Wha?"
     "Tuck, man, get on the computer... hurry up!"
     I cursed, or tried to, as I sat up and coughed the hell out of
myself.

***
11:44 21 Oct

     "So what the hell is going on?" I asked when I'd finally cleared my
airway, unplugged myself from the oxygen and sensors, switched phones
from the bedside lamer's phone to the headset so I could reach the
computers, and sent the page out like Mike demanded.  I'd sent it to Dad
too, since he was interested in things like riots, armed insurrection,
and general chaos.  He said they gave him indigestion.
     "We're striking, because of the violence and hatred of the last few
weeks!"
     "At school?"
     "Yes!  Can you think of a better place to strike against violence?"
     "Are you calling on a cellphone?"  I didn't ask if he'd gone
insane; he wouldn't tell me if he had.
     "Duh!  Y-"
     "Yours?" I accidentally interrupted, and found out that his
cellphone wasn't full duplex.  How suckful.  "Sorry, is it yours or
someone else's?"
     "Mine, Tuck," Mike sighed.  "Remember your parents got us each
one?"
     "No."  Maybe.  Suddenly I vividly remembered having to find yet
another outlet for yet another goddamned wallwart.  "Oh yeah, okay," I
admitted as I saw the offending charger cradle on my desk, with a
cellphone in it.  The last couple of weeks were uncomfortably fuzzy,
probably because of the pain pills and being concussed and all that.
Heart stoppages also ran me down, I decided.  "Uh, what?"
     "Tuck..."  Mike said.  Then he said, "Never mind, I'll show up at
the- your work, a little late.  Take the damned cellphone WITH you," he
emphasized, "and I'll call if there's a problem.  And remember to log
your location before you leave; new procedure."
     I hated new procedures.

***
11:47 21 Oct

     I was going over the new procedure, set forth in email and no doubt
already put into the big black binder downstairs, when someone knocked
on my door.  Then the room doorbell flashed, and I guessed it was Dad.
"I hate all of you," I said as I got up and opened the door.
     "Eugene, how are you doing?" Dad asked.
     "I hate humans.  Give me plutonium."
     "No, you'd mess up the lawn with it," he said.  I'd do a lot more-
"Are you planning on sitting again today?" he asked me.
     "It's my JOB, Dad, I-"
     "Whoa!" he exclaimed as he retreated and held up both hands.
"Okay," he said.  "Can you handle it without Mike for a while?  He's
likely to be late."
     I was a bit stunned; I'd been ready for a fight and now there
wasn't one, there was something else entirely.  "You know what he's
doing?" I asked.
     "Your mother does," he said, "and she's told me enough of it."
     "Oh crap," I sighed.  Everyone knew but me.  "Yeah," I remembered
eventually, "I can handle it."  If I couldn't handle sitting those two
kids, in that nice place, there was no way I could handle going back to
school.
     "How's the armor?" he asked.
     "Huh?  Oh."  I was still wearing it from this morning.  "Guess it's
okay, I was sleeping in it."  No wonder I was warm.  And-  "'Scuse me,
need to pee," I told him.

***
11:58 21 Oct

     I'd taken the opportunity to cough myself out, which wasn't fun; I
was still coughing up old brown blood, along with most of the rainbow.
That was to be expected from having a punctured lung and all that.  At
least there wasn't any fresh red.  I still had stitches in my side too,
which I hated but Doc Treble had forbidden me to remove or trim.  She'd
put gauze over them before taping the hell out of my side, probably to
provide a tamper seal so I couldn't claim they just fell out.
     But when I got out, Dad was gone.  I checked, and he was logging
himself in and out too, as was Mom; Brian had missed this morning,
because he was still listed as being at home and I bet he wasn't, this
being a school day and all.  And Dad's log said he was out to work for a
while.
     "Good riddance," I sighed.
     Then I remembered I had some laundry to shift into the dryer, and
moaned.  Moving hurt; bending down hurt a lot worse.  *Maybe if I
knelt... dump it all into a basket then kneel and transfer from there.
Maybe.*  I hated being sick and I hated being injured.  I also hated
being stupid, but I took half a pain pill anyway, because I hated
screaming agony a lot more.
     The phone flashed again, and this time I switched over to Arrakis
to see who it was.  Mike, again, or at least the same cellphone as a
while ago.  *You're getting dangerous with that thing,* I decided as I
put the headset back on.  "Tuck.  What?"
     Mike said, "Can you record Channel Nine lunch news? There's a
reporter van out here."
     "Oh hell.  Yeah I guess," I agreed as I entered his cell number
into the phone database.
     "Out," Mike said a quarter of a second before he hung up.

***
13:26 21 Oct

     "Oh, shit, I gotta get ready and go..."  Well, Sabrina could fold
things, and I was mostly packed up anyway.  I needed a shower, badly.
And the armor was not helping.  "Wonder what's on the news tape..."  I'd
set that to record two hours, on two VCRs just in case Brian was an
idiot - which he was - and recorded over one without noticing the big
sign taped to the television screen.

***
13:32 21 Oct

     The tape over my ribs was still holding out, thank goodness.  I
didn't want to get it wet, especially, but I didn't want to smell like
rotted skin and perspiration either, and the tape was SUPPOSED to be
waterproof et cetera.

***
14:10 21 Oct

     "Sigh," I said as I looked into the mirror.  The makeup helped, a
lot, but it didn't fix everything, and I still looked sick or something.
Not quite my usual beautiful - haha - self, anyway.  "Still, fuckit."
Yesterday had seemed to go well enough when I was full up...
     I decided to repeat the clothes from yesterday as best I could with
clean ones, because the outfit had worked both with keeping me warm and
not hurting, and apparently making me look almost healthy. I was so glad
that Dad had said that work-related restrictions from the grounding were
off for this last week.  Having either of them hovering around me, like
they tended to do when I was sick and out of the house, would definitely
make Miz Parker think I was too ill to be sitting.

***
15:06 21 Oct

     "Hey," I smiled as Ricky jumped into my car.
     "Hey," he said back, sounding nervous or something.  "Do you feel
okay?"
     "No-  Not yet," I corrected.  "I'm getting better, though."
     "Good!" he said decisively.
     Stella squealed in ultrasonic agreement, making my ears bleed and
my eyes water.  I wiped my eyes, but I was afraid to do the same thing
for my ears in case I saw the blood.  Instead, I started the car.
     "I HATE that!" Ricky gasped as he gingerly moved his hands away
from his ears.  "When's she gonna stop DOING that?"
     I shrugged.  "Maybe when you leave home for college," I said.
"They can still do that for a looooong time.  My sister used to do it to
me."

***
15:38 21 Oct

     "Can you carry Stella inside again?" I asked Ricky BEFORE I pulled
into his driveway.  I was getting smarter; I'd missed the chance
yesterday and had to go fetch him.
     "Why can't you carry her?"
     "Because I've got stitches and I'm healing from-"
     "Okayokayokay!" he interrupted.  I wanted to whack him a few times,
just to whack something.  Being sick AND injured made me kind of
temperamental.  Mike would have said 'raging psychosis' but he was
especially an asshole when I was sick and injured.  George I tried to
avoid entirely.

***
15:44 21 Oct

     Someone thumped on the front door, and I hoped like hell it was
Mike, because I only had a couple of knives with me and they were in my
pack and I'd left the armor at home.  But it was Mike, and luckily
Stella couldn't quite make up her mind about whether to start screaming
or not.  "Get in already."  The sun was out and it had warmed up a lot
more than I'd thought it would, but it still seemed cold and dry and
nasty.  Or I was sick, I remembered.
     "Man," he said, looking amazed.
     "What?" I asked as I pulled him inside, past me, and shut and
locked the door.
     "School."
     "I hate school!" Ricky yelled from somewhere around the television,
and that set Stella off.  No, I realized after a moment, she needed a
diaper change.
     "Come tell me about it while I change Stella," I sighed, betting he
wouldn't.
     "I'll wait here."  Surprised I was not.  "Got anything to eat?"
     "Mike, you're a pig, you know that?"
     "Le oink.  Got anyth-"
     "Ask Ricky, he'll show you what you can snack on.  AND YOU OWE MIZ
PARKER FOR IT!" I yelled after his disappearing self, which made me
cough up a few things.  When I got done, I asked Stella, "What do you
think about corks?"  She whined at the thought.

***
15:49 21 Oct

     I hadn't enjoyed the wrestling match at all, but then neither had
Stella after I'd flipped her over and finished the job that way.  Well,
she seemed more confused and amazed than displeased, but it had worked
long enough to get her last dribbles into the old diaper and a new one
on her.
     But I'd been thinking, especially when I was done changing her and
washing up - it had been one of the messy ones - and when I found Mike,
just finishing an apple and eyeing an orange, I said, "Mike, how 'bout
you DON'T tell me what happened at school today," and signed, <Ears,>
and pointed subtly at Ricky.
     "Oh.  Uh-"
     "Don't you have to write a report anyway?"  Mom and Dad would want
one.
     "Uh, no; your mom was there already, when-"
     "She what?  No, don't tell me," I snarled, because this was really
starting to sound weird and I wondered what the hell was going on and it
sounded like it had all popped like a big abscess except I couldn't hear
about it with Ricky around because he had a big fat mouth.  Stella had
one too, and she was whining again, probably because of the tone of
voice I'd been using.  I pulled her off my hip and smiled at her until
she smiled back. "But I bet you still need to write a report," I tried.
     Amazingly, it worked.  "Yeah, I guess.  Lemme borrow your laptop."
     It was worth letting him borrow my laptop to get the report;
besides, I was tired of homework anyway.

***
15:58 21 Oct

     "What IS all that?" Ricky asked, sounding scandalized.
     "Drugs."
     "You have to take ALL of them?"
     I nodded, then threw a handful of pills in my mouth and followed
with a cup of vile green liquid.
     "How can you remember which ones are which?"
     *Can't you shut UP?*  I handed him the printed list as I swallowed,
which made the taste worse somehow.  I gagged before I could grab the
cup of orange juice and dilute it.

***
16:04 21 Oct

     "Huh?"  I checked my watch spastically, but it was only a little
after four.  "What's she doing home now?"
     "Mom's home?" Ricky said/asked, and I shrugged.

***
16:10 21 Oct

     Apparently, there was something going on with Ricky, like he was
going over to see Gary and David his cousins, and nobody had told me
anything - of course - so Miz Parker was having a panic here to
immediately take him over there.  I wondered a bit why she hadn't just
called; I didn't know where their house was, but she could have given me
directions.  But, whatthehell, I could start dinner early, which meant I
could use some stuff that was probably going to go bad soon if I didn't.
"Am I eating here tonight?" I asked Mike.
     "Huh?  No."
     "Darn."  Staying away from home just seemed like a good idea.  I
didn't feel quite so sick over here, for one thing.  Some of that was
probably-
     Mike added, "You're eating out toni-"
     "I don't have any money!"

***
16:13 21 Oct

     "Ninety-three percent," I said as I started unplugging myself.
"Not bad."  Not good either, but marginally above the level when I'd
need supplemental O2.
     "Lemme see," Mike whined, so when I got unplugged I got up and let
him plug himself into the O2 saturation meter.  At least Ricky wasn't
here to do the same thing.  "Ninety six."
     "Scum."
     He took a few deep breaths, and moved it up to 97.

***
16:33 21 Oct

     I used the knife blade to shove everything off the cutting board
and into the spaghetti sauce, and used it to stir the pot, then tasted
the sauce that was still on it.
     "Stop doing that!" Mike complained.
     "What?"
     "Licking the bloody knife blade!"
     "As long as you-"  Some movement caught my eye before it shrieked.
     "Ah!" Mike and I flinched in surprise as Miz Parker stood frozen in
the doorway turning white.  "Could you NOT do that?!" Mike demanded.
     Miz Parker raised a shaking hand and pointed at me.
     "What?!  I just didn't want to dirty a spoon after I'd dumped
everything in!" I tried to explain, pointing at the pot.  "You have to
taste it sometimes!"
     "Oh god," Miz Parker said as she rushed to grab Stella away from
Mike.  Then she rushed out of the room with Stella.
     "I was gonna wash it..." came lamely out of my mouth.
     Pause, as Mike and I looked at each other.
     "Sumpin's fucked," Mike said, I nodded, and we started packing up.
Except I unpacked my knives and stuck the sheaths into my clothes in
various spots.  I was feeling a little defensive, haha.  Or counter-
offensive.

***
16:40 21 Oct

     Nothing had happened in five minutes, and we'd checked around the
house - nothing inside downstairs, nothing visible outside - and finally
gave up trying to deduce what was going on.  Neither of us said anything
about going upstairs and asking Miz Parker; I think he was as reluctant
as I was about startling her right now.  In my house, protocol was to
wait for the scared person to calm down and come out, so you don't get a
shotgun in your face.  So I figured I'd just wait for her to come back
downstairs whenever she felt like it.
     So, we ended up in the kitchen again, and I resumed cooking.
Besides, a skillet of ground meat and associated fat was not a trivial
threat, if it turned out I needed a threat.

***
16:42 21 Oct

     "Miz Parker," Mike said as he gently stood up, and I guessed Miz
Parker was back before I looked.  He'd have said something entirely
different if it was someone else, or something I needed to worry about
or throw a skillet at.  It was, and I went back to browning ground beef.
"You look like you've just figured out who the murderer is, in a movie.
What's got you that upset?"  If he was looking at her, I'd watch
everything else, I decided.
     "I...  I-  I talked to Cindy last night," she said quickly.  No I
wouldn't; I ended up looking at her again.  She was terrified of
something.  "Because it l-  I mean, you looked like you had bruises on
your face, and-"
     I was about to attempt a lie when Mike hand-signalled me, <Stop.>
     I stopped, and instead started mentally rehearsing a lot of
unsocial options.
     "-I asked Cindy what to do, because, because, I wondered if you
might have been abused, by your parents or some-"
     "What?!" I burst out over Mike's repeat of the hand signal.
     "You had bruises on your face..."  *There weren't THAT many!*  "...
and you were gone for two weeks!" she claimed desperately.  "What else-"
     "You didn't tell anyone else this did you?!" I demanded.  If she
had, I had to warn Mom and Dad instantly.
     "I told Cindy!  She said that I should come talk to her today; I
thought she was going to tell me how to ask, but she said she saw you
in the hospital!"  *Oh shit-*  "Except, except..."
     "Awfuck," I complained as the world tilted.  I grabbed on to the
counter and didn't fall, though it was sort of a near thing.
     "Except what, Miz Parker," Mike said like he was discussing the
weather.
     "Except I found out that THAT," she pointed at me, "is, is-"
     Oh FUCK.  I was so-
     "Miz Parker," Mike said evenly, "there are things of which you are
not aware at this time.  Furthermore, I think we can discuss them in a
calm and rational fashion."  He sounded like a lawyer pontificating in
his own office sitting behind his own Desk of Lordly Might.  I'd never
heard him do this before.  He indicated the other side of the kitchen
'bar' counter.  "Would this be acceptable?"  He glanced at me, and
signed, <Rally here.>  Miz Parker just looked at me, stricken.
     When everything paused, I realized what I was feeling; it had been
a long time, and so I hadn't recognized it immediately.  But now, I
needed some stuff I'd left in the car, so I shook my head, reached over
my head with both hands and pulled on imaginary rings, then made a
motion like using an inhaler, then went to go shoot up before my body
tried to die again.

***
16:44 21 Oct

     I hated carrying albuterol and ipratroprium bromide on my body all
the time, but it seemed like I was going to have to start doing it
again.  Which meant that I'd have to resurrect the stupid fanny pack and
wear it all the damned time.  Again.  "Shit!"
     At least I didn't get the gasps from words of one syllable.
     "Tuck?" Mike called.  I looked over and he was standing in the
front doorway looking around.  I raised my hand over my head so he could
locate me, then flashed hands at him to show that I was breathing okay
and on O2.  He nodded and pulled something out of his pocket, then stood
around for a while like he was waiting for me or something.  He was
gonna have to wait a while, if that was the case.

***
16:48 21 Oct

     Just as I'd gotten myself wired up to the O2 sat meter - 91
percent, not good; it'd dropped two points - I thought I heard something
from the garage area.  Miz Parker looked that way, and I guessed that
she'd told Mister Parker SOMEthing and he'd come home early to 'deal'.
I caught Mike's eye and signaled, <Ready evac,> and started packing my
stuff up (again) in case it became prudent to make a run for it.
Luckily, I'd decided to leave the O2 bottle in the car once I'd
nebulized myself.  It was hard to carry since I hadn't set it up for
school yet.

***
16:51 21 Oct

     Mister Parker apparently had a tiny idea of what was going on,
because he ordered that everything was going to wait until he changed
clothes.  Miz Parker went with him, so Mike took the opportunity to
move unnecessary gear out to the cars; I sat around and tried to be
calm.  And wished I had nebulize-able Valium or something, something
that would work faster than the ingestive route.
     *Come to think of it, aerosol Valium would have a LOT of uses...*
I could think of four or five right now.

***
16:58 21 Oct

     "Is this true?" Mister Parker asked.
     "Let me ask a question first," Mike interjected.  The Parkers
glared at him, especially Miz Parker; I think she knew he was going to
derail whatever track they were on.  "Define male, and define female."
     *Ho ho,* I thought with a bit of cheer, even though it hurt,
because I could guess where this was going.  We'd boggled Kelly with
this line of truth and reason one Sunday morning, and he was going to do
it again.  I didn't want to go there, but I immensely didn't want to go
to jail.

***
17:01 21 Oct

     "You're kid-"  Mister Parker let that drop before he finished; I
think he figured out that no, we weren't kidding.  No one but a sci-fi
writer or a practicing geneticist could make this up.
     "I'd never have guessed this was possible until we heard the
doctor's reports," Mike confirmed.  "Especially the asymmetry; I didn't
think a body would really develop each side differently like hers did."

***
17:05 21 Oct

     "Well, Beth, you did ask for a girl," Mister Parker said, and I
winced a bit in sympathy.  Based on my experience, bringing up what
someone had said in the past would cause problems in the future; it also
opened up the entirety of your own existe nce to criticism based on the
well-known legal and debate principle 'you started it'.
     Miz Parker started, "I ASKED for a girl because-"
     "That's what I don't understand," Mister Parker interrupted, and I
winced again, but Miz Parker didn't blow up at him like my mom would
have, she only started mildly bitching at him.  Strange.

***
17:08 21 Oct

     "Hi, Mike called and said there was a problem?" Debbie said
brightly when she appeared, like she was sure that she could fix things
and make everyone happy again, that it had all just been a silly
misunderstanding and we'd be laughing about it in a few minutes.  Mike
went past her and sat down again.
     I now knew what he'd been doing outside.
     I looked at my watch, decided it had been twenty minutes, decided
further that I didn't care and took a hit off the albuterol emergency
inhaler, and held my breath.
     <Ally,> Mike flashed when nobody else was looking at him.
     *Yeah, right,* I thought.  At least I had my knives now.

***
17:13 21 Oct

     "Stand up for a minute," Debbie ordered as she pulled me to my feet
and started pulling at my clothes.  I was in too much shock to really
resist her.  And she was arguing against the Parkers, so I was sort of
beginning to think she was on my side.  At least enough that I didn't
try to punch her when she started pulling my top up.

***
17:14 21 Oct

     "Which?"  I had a lot of marks on me at the moment.
     "The, the brown lines, like something burned y-"
     "Oh.  Paddle burns," I said as I looked down.  They had faded some
more, but you could still tell what they were if you knew.  "I fibbed
out-  Uh, my heart lost sync..."  How could I explain this to non-med
non-techs?
     "Without enough oxygen, her heart got confused and stupid and
started to spazz, instead of beat in a coherent fashion," Mike put it.
     "They have to shock you to get it to stop, and while your heart's
doing that, spazzing," I continued, "it's not pumping any blood.  At
that point, it's four to six minutes before serious brain damage, just
like if it stopped entirely.  It's called 'ventricular fibrillation';
you can look it up."
     "And you can see the stitches," Debbie said somberly as she turned
me sideways and started pulling the tape off, "where they had-
     "Ow!  Stop it, they said to leave the tape on," I complained as I
moved away and smoothed the tape back down.  "Actually, that was Mike,"
I remembered from the report, and shivered.
     Mike inserted, "They missed the collapsing lung, partially because
they weren't listening to me when the helicopter took-"
     "Helicopter?" Mister Parker interjected.
     *Didn't we-*  I guess not.  "Status asthmaticus plus chest trauma,
plus blue fingernails or lips, that's a medevac," I said.
     Miz Parker still wasn't saying anything, though her mouth kept
opening, but her eyes were pretty large and her eyebrows were way up.

***
17:22 21 Oct

     "Actually, she's not the only one," Debbie said.  "There's been a
lot of what the school wants to call 'incidents'," she sneered.  "People
getting robbed or beaten AT school, DURING school... and someone snuck
in and totally ruined the band hall last weekend."
     "Er?"  I hadn't heard about this yet.  *No, wait...*  Maybe I had.

***
17:41 21 Oct

     I felt like I'd been moderately beaten - and I KNEW what that felt
like again, from recent experience - but Beth Parker was the one who
lost.  I think.  I don't know how Debbie managed to remember, but she'd
pulled up some things that were apparently said in casual conversation
back during the beginning of the summer, about tolerance and other
liberal prowords, and that was enough rope to hang Miz Parker on her own
prejudices when cleverly knotted into everything else.  Plus Mike's
amazing demonstration of channeling F. Lee Bailey or the guy out of To
Kill A Mockingbird, plus Mister Parker's confusion turning to something
else entirely after he'd been informed of my 'unusual' genetic status.
But I thought it was mostly Debbie-magic.  I hadn't had to do much
besides answer questions and keep breathing.  Admittedly, that last was
harder for me than most people...
     Debbie had taken up from Mike's original lead, about explaining my
genetics and what that illustrated about male versus female; she'd shown
my sick twisted body to them, and used me as a prop to talk about my
assault.  She'd skipped the legal parts, like who'd done it, and gone
off in the direction of 'hurting people for being different is bad'.
And Mister Parker, *May he live through tonight...* had agreed with what
she was saying.
     But it had been Mike that had caught the 'little' detail of Cindy
Upshaw breaking patient confidentiality, which was a firing offense at
any decent hospital, and possibly a suing offense as well, since I could
demonstrate direct harm if I lost my cushy nine-dollars-an-hour job over
it.  Say, if my employer had a spazz dealing with that confidential
information.  I didn't remember our lawyer's name, but Debbie had a few
in RAM (or maybe ROM) and mentioned them, plus a court case.
     I had a feeling the argument was going to go on in the house for a
while, but Mike and Debbie had pulled me out when it had been agreed
that I would keep my job for the time being, and I think Debbie was
anticipating talking to Cindy soon.  At any rate, it wasn't my problem
for the next few hours.
     So they poured me into my car, and I managed to drive a few streets
away and park before I lost it.

***
18:11 21 Oct

     "Motherfucker."
     "This has not been the calmest day of my life," Mike mentioned.  He
looked exhausted and stunned as he lay on the hood of his car.
     "Motherfucker," I commented.  At least I wasn't having the gasps
with words of four syllables.  I was vaguely surprised.  Then again, I
was hopped up on enough chemicals that I might explode or turn into a
cloud of butterflies if I was jolted too hard.
     "'M hungry," Mike changed the subject.  "And you owe me dinner for
saving your ass."
     "Oh god."  He'd inadvertently reminded me about Debbie.  "Oh shit,
oh-"
     "Debbie?"  I nodded in the middle of my spasm.  "If she hadn't
wanted to save your ass, Tuck, she wouldn't have shown up," he said like
I should've thought of that already.
     "Yeah but, but-"  *I should've shot her when I had the chance...* I
thought for a wild moment.
     "Buy her dinner or send her chocolate or something," Mike tossed
off like it wasn't my body on the line.  "And," he lifted his head off
the hood of his car and glared at me.  "DO NOT repeat DO NOT forget to
apologize, semiformally and express- explicitly," he changed his word,
"to her about almost shooting her in your house.  Don't even explain it
or anything, just a sentence or two."
     "Motherfucker."  It was the only thing I could really think to say.
I had a nearly overwhelming desire to find a burrow and collapse the
entrance behind me.  Or go hiking for a month, without radios.  Maybe
forever.
     "So whaddaya want to eat?  I'm starved," he announced.

***
18:31 21 Oct

     We had met at the pho place, and I was about to contemplate getting
out of my car, when I thought, "Hey Mike, I think maybe I'd better get
home instead of eating out.  My mom's gonna-"
     "Your mom's at the school board meeting tonight, along with a
whooooole bunch of other parents and other people," Mike informed me.
"That's why Debbie had to get the hell out of there."
     "Oh fuck.  Did I make her late?"  She'd be very displeased if I-
     He snorted.  "Not the way she drives...  Trust me, she'll make it
on time.  C'mon, I'm HUN-GREE," he emphasized, like I should care.  "And
you need something; you're shaking.  Low blood sugar," he decided, which
it wasn't.

***
18:53 21 Oct

     Pho would be good for me, if it ever showed up...  Mike had chowed
down on his spring rolls without even remembering to ask me if I wanted
any until he was almost done.  But I really didn't feel like solid food
at the moment.  Well, except well-boiled noodles, but those weren't
quite solid either.
     "Oh, thank all the Buddhas," Mike exclaimed, by which I deduced
that the food was coming this way.  The restaurant was pretty uncrowded,
I thought; maybe everybody was at the school board meeting tonight.  Not
like I cared, as long as I wasn't, and as long as I got myself locked
into my room before Mom (and undoubtedly Dad, but he wasn't the problem)
got home.  If it went well, Mom would be happy and noisy and want to
tell us about all of it; and if it went badly she'd be in a very bad
mood and thus best avoided entirely and she might want to tell us about
it anyway, and either way all I wanted to do tonight was lie down and
sleep for about four days.  With the door shut.

***
19:33 21 Oct

     "You gonna be alive when you drive?"
     "Yeah, I think so," I told Mike.  I had a tape player and tapes,
and while the car stereo wasn't what I wanted especially, it could get
pretty loud before distorting.
     "Good.  Don't fuck up and die," he suggested.
     It was a tempting idea, except for the hours of excruciating pain.

***
19:58 21 Oct

     "Hnnh."  Rachel wasn't here, apparently, though Terri was watching
television and Dave was doing something in the kitchen.  I put the
message tape Mike had given me on her dresser, in a clear spot.  It was
very hard to keep moving; all I wanted to do was sleep, even if it was
sitting in the seat of my car.  I was half deaf from emergency stimulant
music use too, so maybe it was a good thing Rachel wasn't around to talk
to.  Not like I wanted to talk anyway.

***
20:41 21 Oct

     "Home at last, home at last, thank god in heaven, home at last," I
misquoted as I shut the car off.  Dad's car wasn't here, so maybe they
were still at the school board.  "Oh please oh please..."

***
21:02 21 Oct

     I'd logged my return into the system, mentioning I'd been out to
dinner with Mike - with an addendum that there was no way in hell I was
going to school tomorrow and I was reserving Thursday - and then
stopped, because Mom would be in a frenzy one way or another after
tonight, and if I told her about the Parkers and everything, bad things
would happen.   REALLY bad things.
     The prickle of fear reminded me that I stank of fear, and I
reluctantly decided that yes I did need a shower before bed, if I didn't
want to keep waking up terrified.  Getting up was hell.  At least my
computer chair didn't try to lure me into going to sleep; if I tried,
I'd instantly fall off.
     When I picked up the tank top and smelled it, to see if it was
still useable, it reminded me of Sabrina a week ago.  *Wait, that wasn't
a week,* I remembered dimly.  It just felt like it.  *Still, this
doesn't look anything like a nightgown,* I thought as I held it up and
looked at it.  It was white, which shouldn't count but might have, but
that was about it.  Unless she called a 'nightgown' anything anyone
slept in, like Jill's oversized T shirts.

***
21:20 21 Oct

     It didn't look like a nightgown in the mirror when I was wearing
it, either.  "She's a nut," I decided, and went to bed.

***
21:24 21 Oct

     "Ha ha, goddam-"  I had to break off my cursing to have a
respiratory spazz, because I'd forgotten to take the rainbow of drugs I
was supposed to take on or about twenty-hundred hours.  I hated my life.
     However, someone had told me that Valium repressed REM sleep.  The
last thing I needed tonight was my own brain's defragging pushing me
over the edge into an asthma attack.

***
01:03 22 Oct

     At least all I had to do was sit up, turn on the 25 watt red lamp
that wouldn't make me scream in optic-overload pain, and pour and gulp.
I'd had a 'fun' time setting the MacinClock up to remember all my drug
times; I hadn't been sure it had enough stack to handle all the events
either.  But anything was better than having Mom come in and do it, or
pre-dose everything out beforehand.  She was really heavy on the pain
meds, which made me unbearably stupid.

***
05:07 22 Oct

     I HATED being sick.  I sat there, after the latest batch of drugs,
and just hated.

***
06:02 22 Oct

     "I hate mornings," I said when I could talk again.  It was good in
a way that the room was so humid, but on the bad side it meant that the
stuff didn't dry in my throat during sleep periods, it stayed all soft
and loose, which meant that as soon as I took a deeper-than-sleeping
breath I dislodged it and then the 'fun' started.  "Fuckit, 'M hungry
too."  I'd planned to have a salad last night at-
     "Damn, did that really happen?"

***

06:05 22 Oct

     It had to have happened, I decided after some consideration; my
dreams were never THAT weird.  I'd just be someplace without my pants,
or everyone was laughing at me, or they were trying to kill me, or
something.  Mind-controlling scorpions infesting the bodies of people I
knew.  Something normal, anyway.  And I KNOW I'd never have dreamed
Debbie defending me, even if she'd be liable if they came after me.
     My stomach complained, and I thought about getting something to
eat.
     Which meant I'd have to stand up.  "Fuck."  Still, it couldn't hurt
more than coughing with broken ribs did.  I told myself this four times
before I could stand up.  It didn't, but it was close.

***
06:08 22 Oct

     Amazingly, in the bundle of drugs I'd been represcribed, there were
little green tablets that I almost recognized.  *Valium!* I finally read
on the bottle, and took one.  *Wait, did I have these last night?*  Not
enough of them, I was sure.

***
07:19 22 Oct

     It was probably psychological, not chemical, but even having Brian
whine at me to cook him something too wasn't that bad.  He was Miking
his sandwiches so he wouldn't have to hand-carry them out to the bus
when Mom came in.  "Eugene!" she said like she was happy to see me.
     "Hey Mom," I said.  "How'd it go last night?"  She wouldn't have
been that cheerful if it hadn't gone kind of well.  And, if she was
talking a lot, she wouldn't be asking ME questions, like how my day had
gone.

***
07:36 22 Oct

     "It's so calm and peaceful, I think you two need to be on drugs ALL
the time," Dad grinned.
     "Oh, fuck you, Bill," Mom dropped casually, which sent me into a
coughing fit.  I was glad I hadn't had anything in my mouth at the time.

***
08:13 22 Oct

     "So that's how it's going to work," Mom finished, now a bit flushed
and smiling.
     "Wow," I said, honestly somewhat stunned.  Then I frowned, because
I realized that Debbie had been plotting something like this from the
beginning.  Hell, she might've been waiting for someone - anyone - to
get beaten up so she could set a long-awaited plan in motion.  Though I
wasn't sure she could hold a plot THAT long; I suspected that if it took
too long to initiate, she'd get fired up with another idea or plot and
let the first one drop.
     "I'll take the dishes back," Mom offered, and so I cleverly let
her.  The less I had to get up and down, the better.
     When Mom was out of the room, Dad explained, "She said the
cortisone shot helped a lot," Dad explained, "and she's still on muscle
relaxants."  
     "That'd explain it," I nodded.  Waiting until Mom was out of the
room belatedly struck me as a smart move, too.  She was a lot calmer
when she was on downers of some kind, I was beginning to think; but
that was just the kind of comment she'd resent and get all bitchy about,
just to prove she wasn't calmer.
     "So," Dad said in that way that made me instantly suspicious.  "If
you're not going to school today, wanna get your head examined?"
     "No."  Oddly, I realized, I didn't need much of a head to make that
decision.
     "Still, you need to get it X-rayed," Dad said.

***
09:17 22 Oct

     "Those aren't X-ray plates," I said, pointing at the box and heavy
nylon bags Dad was carrying out to the car.  I was not THAT stoned.  I
was NEVER that stoned.
     "It'll do you some good," he informed me.  "And we have some time
to kill."

***
10:48 22 Oct

     Amazingly, it was doing me some good.  Or some bad; I wasn't in
nearly as nasty a mood as I had been.  I was slow because of the drugs,
and shaking too much from some reason or combination, but-
     "Threat-GO!" Dad barked suddenly.
     Pistol out and lock on target and cover and level pistol and finger
on trigger and safety off and rear sight onto target and front sight and
squeeze firmly and rear sight and front sight and squeeze firm-
     "Damnit!" I cursed as I started to dodge sideways but caught my
ribs in a bundle of fishooks.  The armor didn't help that at all,
either.  My spine had already reseated the magazine and racked the
slide, though, so I lurched back to get a clear LOS and finger on
trigger and rear sight and front sight and squeeze firmly.  This one did
not misfire, and it went into the 9-ring.
     "You're still not dodging," Dad informed me.
     "It still hurts like a motherfucker-"  Oh shit.  "When I move," I
finished belatedly.  "I tried to wiggle to throw their aim off, at
least."
     "Won't help if they're rushing you," he reminded me, thankfully NOT
following up on the cursing.

***
12:16 22 Oct

     "Why do they always tell you to be on time for your appointment,
then make you wait for half an hour, then show you in, then make you
wait longer?"
     "It is the will of Allah," Dad sighed, like he didn't care.  "Could
be worse," he added, brightening.  "Could be raining."
     "Or, you could keep saying things like that."

***
12:49 22 Oct

     Not surprisingly, my skull was healing, as were my ribs.  This
wasn't so much good, since they were supposed to do that, as a
confirmation that nothing had gone horribly wrong.  Like, if they
weren't.
     On the other hand, it would be a couple of months before they were
healed completely-or-close-enough-for-government-work, and it wasn't
like I needed an excuse to get out of gym class anyway, any more.
     "Hey," I thought, "can I give my out-of-gym excuse to someone
else?"  Maybe I could sell it...
     "Talk to Doc Treble about it; and I bet she takes eighty percent."
     "Not if you don't suggest she take eighty percent, Dad."  He'd been
the one to mention that she should charge regular office fees for bogus
excuses, I was sure.  Him or Mom.  Probably him; Mom did boring mundane
stuff with money, like everyone else and their parents did, whereas Dad
could get unhappily creative about it.  "Hey, aren't you hungry?"
     He gave me the eye.  "Are you?"
     "I wouldn't mind... and I especially wouldn't mind something I
didn't have to cook."

***
13:30 22 Oct

     "Kinda takes the edge off nicely, huh?" I mentioned pointedly.
     "Mmmmm," Dad commented with his mouth shut.  I could take that any
way I wanted; I decided to assign it 'total and hearty agreement'.  So I
nodded back at him.

***
14:02 22 Oct

     "I just don't understand," Dad said to delay me leaving, "why you
would rather be babysitting, instead of staying home.  You've got good
excuses..."
     This reminded me of last night, so I took a few seconds to
hopefully look thoughtful while I repressed a scream.  "Um...  Well, I
need to pay Brian for some chores, and there's other stuff..."  Like,
after all Debbie went through last night to keep me there, I'd damned
well better show up.  I shrugged, and breathed carefully.  "Besides,
it's not that hard."
     "You sure seemed wiped out last night.  Didn't even wake up when we
got home."
     My heart twitched.  "Um... it's, uh, it's just having to stay awake
that long at a time," I said as I was irradiated with a sudden burst of
inspiratons.
     The absolute last thing I wanted, especially after Debbie pulled
off another miracle of hypnotism last night, was to have Mom get into a
fight with Miz Parker over me.  I didn't think Ricky should grow up an
orphan, and I sure as hell didn't want to adopt him either.
     So I said, "But it's okay, 'cause unlike school THEY are glad to
see me back."  My heart went thud-flicker-flicker-twitch.  It was time
to start designing a replacement heart.
     "You don't th-"
     "Not MOST of the inmates at school.  And my friends have been
coming over HERE, if you hadn't noticed."  I bet he had; strange people
in the house gave him hives.  "Besides," I added, "if I'd been awake
when you two got home last night I'd have heard about-"
     "Brian was there too."
     "He was?"
     "He didn't tell you at breakfast?"
     "No.  What he said to me at breakfast was, 'Oh man, can you fix me
something?  I'll pay you, I swear,' and then 'Oh man, this is guff,' as
he started shoving it into his pie hole."
     "It was pretty good," Dad agreed.
     "Also completely lacking in information about last night.  But I
got all that from Mom this morning," I reminded him hastily, before he
could start telling me about it.

***
15:07 22 Oct

     "Were you okay last night?" Ricky asked me.
     "Oh, uh...  Yeah, it's just your mom wasn't sure I was well enough
to be sitting for you."  She'd never come out and said it, but I think
she was worried that I was sick.  As in pervert.  "That's why Deb- my
boss came over last night to talk to them too.  So I think we won, and
I'll be sitting for you for a while."
     "COOL!" he yelled at the top of his lungs as he bounced up and down
in the seat, as if he was mildly pleased.  Stella began screaming bloody
murder as if she was also mildly pleased.  Or being eaten by ants.
     I wasn't entirely sure that I'd still be working there in a week,
though, and I'd have to be on really excellent behavior so they'd have
no excuse to fire me.  On the other hand, it wasn't like I'd completely
collapse and die if I got (only) fired, either.  Heck, it'd give me a
chance to rest more on weekdays.
     Resting seemed like a really good thing, that I wasn't having.
     Damnit.  I HATED being stuck with choices like this.  These.

***
16:16 22 Oct

     I hadn't really gotten started on the supper I'd intended to fix
last night, but what I had started, Miz Parker had saved in the
refrigerator.  "This is gonna be good," I told Stella, but I'd forgotten
Mike was there.  "Forget I said that!" I ordered sharply.

***
16:38 22 Oct

     I heard something that made me nervous, and looked over at Mike.
"Mike?"
     "Bet it's Miz Parker early again," he said calmly, not looking up
from his homework.
     And I wasn't wearing body armor.  He was, though, the fuck-
     Miz Parker came in and she stopped, and we looked at each other in
this sort of horrible oh-I-didn't-know-you-didn't-have-pants-on sort of
way.
     Mike recovered first and said, "You're kind of early for supper,
but I'm assured it will be worth the wait."
     "Too bad you're not getting any," I popped off at him.
     "Ehhhhh!" he whined at me.
     She managed a smile, but it was pretty weak.
     "Ricky's in his room, looking at a book, last I checked," I said,
mentally sighing.  "And dinner will be ready at seven o'clock."  Stella
babbled something, and I amended, "YOUR dinner.  Food for the toothless
will be served earlier."

***
17:09 22 Oct

     I had to go ask Miz Parker a question, about whether she was saving
the salad stuff for anything, so I followed the noise to the television.
She was flipping through channels, then stopped for about thirty seconds
on CNN or something, then started flipping again.
     "Miz Parker?"
     She dropped the remote.  "Oh!" she said as she turned to face me
and tried to bend down at the same time to get the remote back.
     I sighed.

***
18:53 22 Oct

     "Shit..."  I could say that now that I was outside.
     "What?" Mike asked.
     "I dunno... maybe I should resign."
     "After all that work yesterday?" he complained.
     "Mike, the last fucking thing I need is massive amounts of
emotional strain and tension.  Did you notice things were a bit tense
tonight?"
     "Yeah..." he admitted as his head dropped.  "And I don't know what
to do about it."
     "There's nothing I CAN do, Mike.  You either."  The stress was bad
for me.  I knew I was using the inhalers more than I should, but I was
as always hyper-scared of having another one after I'd been in the
hospital; and I wasn't overdosing.  Quite.  And that quiet static-charge
feeling before the emotional C4 went off was a known stressor and
trigger.  "I just wanna go home..."
     "Tuck," he said as he stood up and looked at me.  "You do NOT have
to do this."
     I did, but I didn't, but I didn't know what I wanted.  I wanted it
to stop being this way, and go back to the way it used to be.  "I
know...  I need to think about it," I put him off.  I didn't want to
think about it, I wanted to go home and sleep.  Preferably forever.

***
19:38 22 Oct

     Thank Ghu, nobody was home at Rachel's tonight.  And she'd left the
last tape in the same place, with an envelope under it that said she'd
done that one, and, "1.5 hrs," whatever that meant.  I switched tapes
out and took the envelope with me.

***
20:50 22 Oct

     Someone tapped on my door.  "Hey, uh, Tuck?"
     *Oh damnit.  I hate you,* I thought as I got up to go see who it
was.  *Probably Sabrina,* I realized.
     It was.  "Hey," she said, smiling, and handing me a stack of folded
clothes.  But Julia was there too.
     "Hey," I said to them both.  "'Sup?"
     "More homework," Sabrina said, and we both made a face.
     "I haven't seen you in a while," Julia said, "and I wondered how
you were doing."
     "Oh... okay, I guess," I lied.  I didn't want them making a fuss
over me; I wanted them to go away.  But some conversation would be
better than a fuss.  They wouldn't go away without one or the other.

***
21:19 22 Oct

     "Um," Sabrina said.  "It's getting a little late, and I have to get
home before my dad has a fit."
     "Oh, right," I agreed as Julia got off my bed.
     "I was thinking," Sabrina continued, "about having a sleepover
Saturday...  Do you want to come?"
     "Um."  On the one hand, no; I'd sleep a lot less at one of those
than I would at home.  On the other...  If I could stand to go, I
couldn't be sick, and I was very tired of being sick.  "Dunno."
     "Come on," Julia said.  "It'll be fun."
     "That's what I'm afraid of," I sighed, and she laughed
     Sabrina didn't.  "Just if you want to.  And you, y'know, if you're
feeling okay or whatever," Sabrina said.
     "I dunno.  Let me see how I feel Saturday," I put her off.  "If I
do come, I need to bring some medical stuff with me, just in case."
     "Do you need that thing?" Julia asked, pointing at the humidifier.
"Makes it kind of muggy in here."
     "It's not bad," Sabrina answered before I could.  "Lot better than
it was."
     "I cleaned some," I admitted.  When I could really smell again, I
didn't like the stinky any more than anyone else did.  "If I do need
that," I said, pointing at the humidifier, "I won't come.  It's a pain
to carry around and set up."
     "Well, I mean-"
     I interrupted Julia with, "No, I mean, if I need it to sleep, I'm
not well enough and I ought to stay home, that's all.  It's not
something I really like carrying around either.  Or setting up; don't
wanna break the tank again, and in strange places sometimes it's hard
to find a good place to put it, where someone won't knock it over or
trip on the cord or something."

***
06:06 23 Oct

     I really ought to read what Mike and Mom and Dad had written about
things, but I was just too tired at the moment.  And my body ached, like
I was getting a relapse of something.  Or influenza, which would be just
my luck.
     I scarfed drugs, got up to pee and refill my water bottle, and
decided that further sleep was indicated.

***
10:22 23 Oct

     *Oh, man...*  Maybe I should sleep another hour.  My ribs were
killing me, even with the armor on.  The drugs weren't killing me, they
were putting me into a coma.  I HATED having to choose between pain and
no-brain.

***
15:11 23 Oct

     "Mom's been really weird the last couple days," Ricky announced.
"Is she mad at you?"
     "I don't think so."  She was freaked at me, not angry, I thought.
If anyone, she'd be angry at Debbie and Mike.  Though I might get
severely hurt anyway.
     "You're not gonna leave, are you?"
     *You fucker,* I snarled inside as I looked away from him so he
wouldn't see it.  *Why'd you have to ask me that?*

***
16:01 23 Oct

     I wondered if Mike was going to show up.

***
16:38 23 Oct

     "Wait, he's got a cellphone, d-"  I HATED being sick.  I finished
chopping onions, then went to 'my' phone in the kitchen and called him.
     "The number you have reached," Mike intoned, "has been disconnected
or is no longer in service.  If you feel you have reached this recording
in error, please hang up and try again.
     "The number that was dialing you," I said back, "has been
disconnected or is no longer in service."
     I stopped when I paused and heard Mike laughing.
     "'Sup?"
     "You coming over to work?" I asked.
     "Yeah, just be late today.  How you doing?"
     "O2 sat is ninety-three, lungs clear."  I paused, then looked to
make sure Ricky wasn't hanging around.  "Kind of weird.  Haunted house
feeling."
     "You need me there?"
     I thought about it.  "No," I decided, "it's not really that bad.
Just... creepy."
     "Right.  Be there in forty-five or so."
     "Mike, you don't-"
     "It's winding up anyway," he interrupted.  "No prob.  See ya then.
Out."  He hung up.

***
17:44 23 Oct

     "No!"  Oh shit.  "No, Miz Parker, that'd be a BAD idea."
     "Why?!"  She'd lost the stunned look she'd had for most of the last
couple of days, and now she looked aggravated.
     "Because, my mom's all busy with whatever's going on at school,
and...  they weren't too pleased when they found out what I'd been
doing.  Remember when I got grounded?  That was 'cause they found out
about it."
     "They GROUNDED you?!"  I couldn't tell whether she was amazed
because they'd done that much, or done that little, or done that instead
of something else like committing me to a psych ward.
     "Grounded, five hundred dollar fine, telephone calls limited to two
minutes, escorted to and from school and work..."  She looked confused
again; I took that as a good sign.  "Anyway, I-  She injured her back
recently, and I dunno... I wouldn't want to piss her off at the moment,
and this would DEFINITELY piss her off."
     "Well when CAN I talk to her?"
     Oh shit oh SHIT-  "Debbie could guess better that I could," my
mouth said.
     I blinked a couple of times, but it seemed like a really good idea.
     "Um," I justified, "my mom still thinks of me as a small child,
someone she needs to order around and define their life; and when I
don't let her do that, she gets upset with me.  Same with Mike, 'cause
we've been friends so long.  But with Debbie, I mean I only really met
her last year, and so she SEEMS more adult to my mom, and they can
discuss things on an adult level, whereas if _I_ try that she starts
remembering things like what happened to the refrigerator and stuff."
That sounded almost plausible.
     Her mouth twitched but nothing came out.  Then it happened again.
Then she asked, "What happened to the refrigerator?"
     "Um."  That hadn't been one of my better ideas.  "Well, uh, they-
my parents were talking about repainting the kitchen, in colors, so I
thought it would be nice of me and Mike to paint the refrigerator to
match..."

***
17:50 23 Oct

     "So you think I should ask Debbie, when's a good time to talk to
your mother?" Miz Parker asked.
     "Wh-"  Oh, that.  "Yeah," I agreed.  "I can give you her number..."
     "I've got it," she said.
     "Oh."  That made sense.  *I must be tired.*  "Yeah," I agreed.

***
17:53 23 Oct

     "Hey, did I miss supper?" Mike asked.
     "Yes," I lied.
     "Man!"

***
18:42 23 Oct

     It was looking at supper that made me think of Travis, because he'd
eaten it over here once - not this incarnation, but a previous one - and
he'd wrinkled his nose at it and then eaten a lot of it.
     This all flashed in an instant, and I inadvertantly said, "Aaahk!"
     Mike looked up.  "Wh-  Oh, heck, we never did..."
     "Ahrk!"
     "You never did listen to your voicemail, did you," he stated.
     I coughed a bit and got out, "But I've been sleeping!  Like YOU-"
     "Eht!" he snapped as he flicked a finger at me sideways.  'Don't
make me slit your throat', he meant.  "But you didn't."
     "Noooo!" I moaned.  "But-"
     "I don't know if this is a good idea," Mike warned.
     "I HAVE to- and if he sees me like THIS, and I can show him-"
     "No, bad."  He ran his fingers through his hair as he looked away.
     "No it isn't!  He wouldn't-"
     "Shut UP," he said.  "I'll help, but shut up."
     I shut.
     Pause.  I hoped he was thinking about this instead of how to scam
some food.
     "Your pager's gone, right?" he asked.
     "Yeah?"  *So?*
     He nodded at something.  "Okay, call him now."

***
18:43 23 Oct

     "Just his answering machine," I sighed as I hung up.
     "I heard."  He thought for a minute.
     "It's just a little out of the way... I can leave a note on his
door, tell him I came by, okay?  Please?"
     "Okay," he agreed, as I realized I didn't actually HAVE to ask
Mike's permission.  But I wanted him there... I was horribly afraid for
some reason.

***
19:11 23 Oct

     About a minute after I knocked on the door, about when I was
starting to think that he wasn't here even though his Suburban was, the
door opened.
     *Anne,* I remembered vaguely.  I didn't ask a question, but her
face answered me anyway.
     "Sorry to bother you," I choked out, and turned around and went
back down the stairs and to my car and locked the door.

***
19:55 23 Oct

     "C'mon, Tuck," Mike said.  "Let's go home.  I'll drive."
     "I can't leave my car!" I gasped.  "Not HERE!"
     "I got someone coming to pick it up and drive it to your house," he
said, and tapped his belt.
     "Oh..."  I wanted to say thanks, but that reminded me of what I was
thanking him for which reminded me of why I was so upset I couldn't
drive which reminded me...

***


"Heaven has no rage, like love to hatred turned, Nor Hell a fury, like a
woman scorned." -- 'The Mourning Bride' by William Congreve, 1697


Distribution:
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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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