Good Bye Immigration Manor
Hello Paris

I would like to thank my dear friends,
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W., Annette MacGregor and Holly H Heart
for their kindness, help, support, and input.

Education in the Hills
Chapter 23

By Penny Reed Cardon

* * * * *

Jean-Paul was furious, "What are you talking about? You have no right to-"

"Please calm yourself, Doctor. I'm just following orders," Frances interrupted, as he tapped the power button on the television, turning it off.

"Orders? What orders?" Jean-Paul questioned.

"Pin him down dear, ask him who gave the order?" Suzette added.

"The order comes from ... Admiral James T Kirk."

The room was completely silent for several seconds, while the absurdity of his answer sunk in.

"Who?" Jean-Paul finally asked.

"Sorry Doctor, just a bit of humor. CEO Devereux personally instructed me to see to it that you, your wife and ... two children, are to be on the flight back to France. I received the order a short time ago and this is the first opportunity since then, until now that is, that the four of you have been together."

"This is absurd. Why would he do something like this? Why would he give an order like that?" The volume of Jean-Paul’s words clearly displayed how upset he was.

"Doctor, please try to relax, remember your heart condition. I'm sure he had a good reason, probably something to do with this," Frances explained, as he removed what appeared to be an mp3 player from his jacket pocket. He plugged in a small speaker and activated the unit.

A stunned silence fell over the room as we listened to the playback, and Arabelle saying, "Mamma, I'm scared. I don't want to leave you and Pappa."

Then we heard Suzette, apparently trying to comfort her daughter, as she replied, "I know dear. I'm a little nervous about this whole thing. But, our friends back home assured us that these Americans can help us."

Jean-Paul’s voice followed. "Arabelle, we've talked about this for a long time now. You know, I can't continue doing ... well, you know. All they care about is money; nothing about who will pay the consequences, who will suffer.” There was a brief pause. “You know how much I hate what I've become. The only reason I haven't done something before now is that I'm afraid of what they would do to the three of you." The deep love that Jean-Paul felt for his family was evident in his voice. I looked at him and could see his eyes getting wider, obviously upset by this turn of events. I also felt Suzette’s arms tightening around me.

"This is the only chance we have to be a real family again, like it used to be, remember?" Suzette’s voice added.

Arabelle’s voice replied, "I remember how it used to be. Even before I messed up and Sally got hurt-"

"I not hurt," we heard Sally’s voice proclaim. The rustling of fabric was clearly heard, followed by, "See, no boo boo's."

"That's right, Munchkins don't get boo boo's," Jean-Paul chuckled, then continued. "Come here Munchkin, give me a hug."

"Give PAPPA huggies?" Sally’s giggling voice questioned. "Why? Is Pappa worth huggies?"

"Maybe just one … and maybe one little snuggle," Suzette’s voice replied. She was clearly teasing them both.

There were several seconds of silence before we heard Sally’s voice again, "Think ... Think, think ... Think, think, think." After a brief pause, her bright voice proclaimed, "Okay, him worth huggies."

I could have sworn I heard the padding of small feet, followed by a male voice grunting, "OOHF."

This was immediately followed by, "Huggies on Pappa.” I assumed that Sally had jumped into her father's lap and had tried to hug the stuffing out of him, just as she'd done to me a little while ago.

"That's my little Munchkin," Jean-Paul’s voice exclaimed cheerfully. "Tell me, can you be a good Munchkin for Arabelle, tomorrow, and do what she tells you?"

"Is she tell me eat bushel spouts?"

Chuckling he replied, "No, I don't think she'll tell you to eat any Brussels sprouts."

"Okee. I do what she say."

"That's my girl." A loud kiss was heard; I guessed that Jean-Paul had kissed Sally's cheek, being that the sound was followed by a little girls giggle.

"Pappa!" More giggling, "You whiskers tickle."

"Arabelle, you will look after your sister," came Suzette’s voice. Her concern for both girls could be heard. "We're counting on you to keep her safe."

"I think that's enough of that," Frances said sharply, as he stopped the playback. "My men will be stationed outside. I'll have your cell phones, if you don't mind."

"What are you saying?"

"Only that, for the next two days you won't need your cell phones. They will be returned to you when we’ve all returned home, to France," Frances replied coldly. Reluctantly, Jean-Paul and Suzette surrendered their phones.

Frances then turned his attention to Kimberley. "And you miss ..."

"Arabelle!" Kimberley snapped.

"But of course you are. I believe you also carry a phone. May I have it?"

"It’s in my bag, in the other room."

"If you don't mind," Frances gestured for Kimberley to go and retrieve her phone.

Hesitantly, Kimberley got up and slowly went into the bedroom we would share. I knew, as Kimberley did, that giving up the phone that Mr. Black had provided wasn't a good thing. I just didn't know of any way to keep the phone. As Kimberley was coming back, with phone in hand, Frances turned to talk with Logan.

At that moment I saw a gleam in Kimberley's eye and a smile cross her face. Making a sudden detour, she slipped into the bathroom. The sound of the bathroom door closing, echoing in his ears, pulled Frances’ attention back to Kimberley. He spun around in shock. A second later I heard the unmistakable sound of a toilet being flushed. Just before Frances threw himself against the bathroom door, it swung open.

Kimberley was smiling as she opened the bathroom door, to find that Frances was about to smash it in. "Oh, I'm sorry. Did you need to use the bathroom?" she asked, as sweetly and innocently as she could.

Fists on his hips, Frances scowled down at Kimberley. Boisterously, he demanded, "Your cell phone, NOW."

"Oh yes, my phone. I'm really sorry about this, but as I was flushing the toilet the phone slipped from my hand. I'm not exactly sure where it is at the moment, but I don't think I want it back."

'Way to go girl. Teach this scumbag to mess with us.'

"LOGAN!" Frances snapped as Kimberley slowly walked passed him, to sit where she had been. "Search the bathroom, she may have hidden it."

Several moments of silence passed as Logan searched the bathroom, returning empty handed.

"Told you," Kimberley said smugly.

"Get the phones from the rooms," Frances ordered. Then, turning back to Jean-Paul, he continued, "Dr. Moreau, I also require your laptop."

"I’m afraid that’s impossible. I’m in the middle of some sensitive design work. Taking my laptop will significantly delay the completion of the new designs. Surely President Devereux didn't authorize that?"

"Doctor, I'm surprised at you; you're supposed to be on vacation. Spend the next two days getting to know your wife and ... daughters. Now, your laptop please."

“It is essential that I continue my work. I was only permitted to take time off if I agreed to work on the designs in the evening and attend the morning review meetings via videoconference. I must keep my laptop.”

‘That’s it, great logic doc. Keep it up and we’ll have a way out of this mess.’

“You’ll just have to work harder after we get you back to France. As for the morning meetings, they’ll just have to do without you for a few days.”

‘They’ll have to do without him for a lot longer than that, if we have anything to do with it.’

Reluctantly, Jean-Paul finally surrendered his computer; and in my estimation, our last possible line of communication.

Thank you, Doctor. I'll see all of you in two days time. Good evening Doctor, Madame, ... ladies."

With that, Frances and Logan left. The door slammed behind them, leaving us in silence.

It was probably a full minute that the four of us sat in complete silence, each of us apparently thinking about what had just happened. As for me, I was wondering how we would get a message out.

‘They knew what they were doing, didn't leave me anything to work with. How are we going to get word to Mr. Black now.’

Kimberley was the first to move. She silently got up and collected the listening devices she'd located earlier. Placing the five devices on a pillow, in the middle of the floor, she covered them with a second pillow. Turning to Jean-Paul she whispered, "They have transmitters, can you change the frequency so we can use them to contact our friends?"

Looking a little surprised that Kimberley would be asking that question; he cautiously examined one of the devices. After a minute or two he put it back between the pillows. "I'm afraid not. Without a schematic and some tools there's not much I can do," he whispered.

Kimberley looked at me, asking, "How about you, Munchkin, any ideas?"

Partly dropping out of character, "I work wiff computers and networks okay, me not know radios."

"Well, it looks like you're going to be Sally a little longer than we planned and I think Sally has been quiet for too long. You need to start dancing and making lots of noise."

"What?" I puzzled.

"Dance, sing, make noise," Kimberley clarified, pointing towards the wireless mikes.

Jean-Paul and Suzette looked at Kimberley with puzzlement. They appeared as though they were unsure of who she was, what she was planning, and most of all - should they trust her.

As for me, I hopped off Suzette's lap and turned the TV back on. With the TV on and me singing along, the room was instantly filled with sound.

Kimberley went into our room for a moment, returning with a different pair of shoes for me. Having me sit for a moment, she took off my green munchkin slippers and put some black Mary Jane’s on my feet, that had some steel plates on the heels.

'I didn't know Sally was into tap dancing. That wasn't in the DVD's. I wonder how much more information they forgot.'

Kimberley took me into the bathroom, leaving the door open. Again she told me to dance. The sound of the tap shoes on the hard tile floor, in that small bathroom, was very loud; even to me. Kimberley nodded as she smiled. "That's perfect. Keep it up," she told me, as she disappeared.

Almost immediately, Kimberley returned, along with Jean-Paul, Suzette, and the pillows with the wireless mikes. Taking one of the mikes, Kimberley placed it in the middle of that small bathroom floor. Looking up at me, she smiled. I knew exactly what she wanted me to do. Taking a mighty jump I landed right on top of the small device, crushing it with my heel. The fact that several pieces went flying in different directions didn't seem to bother anyone. Kimberley smiled and nodded her approval at my performance. Suzette and Jean-Paul could barely stifle their laughter, as Kimberley placed the second device down, close to where the first had been.

After all the devices had been turned into what appeared to be the remnants of a nanite size War of the Worlds. We collected up all of the pieces and flushed them. A most satisfying feeling, I must admit.

"That takes care of the first order of business," Kimberley announced, wiping bits of electronics from her hands. "Right, on to the next order of business, did Frances say how we were to order from room service? Who’s hungry?"

"I don't recall him saying how, just that it’s available," Suzette replied.

"Maybe he left instructions with whoever's watching the door. After all, he didn't leave any of the hotel phones," Kimberley added.

“I wonder, is there really anyone out there?" Jean-Paul questioned, heading for the door.

Opening the door he exclaimed, "René, I thought you weren't coming on this trip. When did you get here?" Was all we heard before the door swung closed?

Several minutes later the door opened. "That's just like Frances, deciding what road to take without looking at a map or knowing where it goes," Jean-Paul complained, shaking his head. "He goes and convinces President Devereux to give him the authority to place us under house arrest for two days without finalizing any of the details; like how and what we're supposed to eat. It’s a good thing they sent René over; at least he's got a few more active brain cells. There's a restaurant in the hotel and four more in the convention center complex. René sent someone to collect a menu from each. He told me to just write down what we want and he'll see that it's delivered."

"That takes care of the second order of business, survival. The next thing we need to discuss is," Kimberley motioned that she meant Suzette and Jean-Paul and herself, "how are we going to survive being locked up for two days with the Munchkin?"

Being that I was too far away to kick anything fleshy, I took a deep breath blew raspberries for as long as my breath held out.

Laughing, Kimberley admitted, "I'm only teasing. We'll have lots of fun together."

Kimberley's admission that she was just teasing did nothing to take the scowl from my face. Dejectedly I wandered in and sat on my bed.

'This feels strange ... sharing a room. I haven't shared a room since Mom and Dad finished that room in the basement and moved Charles down there. That's if you don't count the time Mary Beth slept with me. I sure miss having her snuggling up behind me. - - - I,' sniffle 'I wonder if I’ll ever see her again? ...'

Shortly after I started crying I felt the bed shift as someone else sat down. I wiped my nose on my sleeve and then turned to see Suzette's smiling face.

"What's the matter, little one?" she asked, pulling me onto her lap.

"I not that little," I replied gruffly, amid my sniffling.

"But of course you are, you're my little Munchkin. Even when you grow big, you'll still be my little Munchkin. Well, you'll be someone's little Munchkin. I keep forgetting you're not Sally, you're so much like her."

"MayBee," I mumbled softly, after a moment’s hesitation.

"Maybe? But of course you will be-"

"No, I be MayBee's Munchkin."

"Oh, MayBee! Who's MayBee?"

"MayBee my friend. She take care of me. Well ... she used to. When we go France, I never see her again," I said softly, as my eyes started leaking once more.

Suzette put her arms around me, but somehow it didn't feel right. She was kind, but she wasn't Mom or Mary Beth and the feeling I got wasn't as comforting as it could have been.

* * * * *

Once the restaurant menus arrived, it became obvious that Jean-Paul has an evil streak. Suzette and I went back into the common room, where Jean-Paul suggested that we not make life easy for our jailers and, that we each order from a different menu. Thinking that it would be fun, for us anyway, we all went along with the idea. I did need a little help as I didn't know what some of the dishes were, and Kimberley made me promise not to order pizza for every meal; the spoil sport.

‘I wonder if Mr. Black has someone monitoring room service. I’m guessing because Ellen knew my favorite breakfast they probably know about my love for mint chocolate chip ice cream.’

While waiting for dinner to be delivered, and while we ate, the four of us got to know each other a little better. Jean-Paul and Suzette were surprised at how much we knew about them. We learned more about Sally's condition, and while talking about that, I told them what Ellen had said about trying to stimulate Sally's mind, if she had the chance. The idea of helping Sally's mind grow is something they'd given up on. At least the doctors in France had convinced them to give up. It was obvious how much Jean-Paul and Suzette wanted so much to be with their daughters again. I wasn't sure how we'd accomplish it, but somehow Kimberley or I needed to get an intelligent message to the S. P. A.

Sally's bedtime came all too quickly, so at the appointed time Kimberley took me in to get me ready for bed.

"You know Munchkin, if we don't find some way out of it we'll be in France in three days," Kimberley started, as she took off my dress.

"I know. Plan go bad. Need new plan. Me not want go France. Not want be dressed by nanny. Any way we talk Mr. Black?"

"I don't know of any way to get a message to him, they took everything that we could have used. Too bad I had to flush my phone."

"You think tracker in phone work under water?" I wondered.

"I doubt it. If it is, it will lead someone on a merry chase, through the local sewer system. Of course, if it is somehow working; when they find it they'll know something's wrong."

"Don't know ‘bout you, I don't want find flushed phone." I held my nose and made faces.

"I have to agree with you there," she chuckled. "Whoever has to go diving for it should get paid triple."

"And a hour bubble bath," I added with a giggle.

"You're right about that one. There you are, snuggly tucked into bed. Anything else I can get for you, Munchkin?"

Soon to be alone, tucked into a strange bed, and facing the prospect of never seeing the hills of home again, I looked into Kimberley's eyes and wistfully replied, "MayBee."

"I know what you mean, I miss Angel too," she sighed heavily. Leaning down, she kissed my forehead, saying, "Goodnight, Munchkin, sleep tight."

"Don't let bed bugs bite," I sadly finished, but with a halfhearted attempt at a smile.

I watched Kimberley gather her pajamas and go to the bathroom to change. For the first time, since leaving the Manor, I was alone, all alone. I rolled over so I was facing away from the door; I didn't want anyone to see me crying.

‘I shouldn’t be crying, I’m not a baby any more. I’m supposed to be bigger than that. Ellen says I'm the smallest adult at Immigration Manor and adults don't cry ... do they?’

I don't know how much time had passed or how many times I'd drifted in and out of sleep. I knew my pillow was wet and I had gone from softly crying to uncontrollable sobbing, when I felt my bed shift. "What's the matter, Munchkin?"

Recognizing Kimberley's voice, I meekly replied, "I miss MayBee."

Kimberley laid behind me, putting one arm over me, her hand cupping my shoulder. "I know, Munchkin. I know. Don't worry, everything will work out somehow. We'll be all right as long as we stick together. I promised Mr. Peterson that I'd take care of you and that's one promise I intend to keep. Can you imagine what he’d do to me if I let anything bad happen to you?"

I knew he couldn’t do anything to her if we didn’t get away. Still, the picture of him looming over her was enough to bring out a little smile. Then my fear of not getting away returned and I thought about never seeing Mary Beth again.

“Not matter anyway. MayBee not care no more.”

“I wouldn’t say that. I know she’ll never forgive me if I don’t get you back in one piece.”

"Mary Beth tell you ... she care ‘bout me?" I asked, as I rolled over to face Kimberley.

"She didn't have to say anything. I can tell by the way she acts when she's around you. And what about you, oh my, the way you act, I've never seen a more love sick puppy dog."

"I sorry."

"Oh, there's nothing to be sorry about. Being in love is part of the circle of life. I've just never seen it from a pair so young."

"But, MayBee says, we just friends."

"Really? That's odd. Oh well, don't worry about it right now. Sometimes it takes a while for some people’s brains to figure out what their heart already knows."

"I tried tell MayBee, but -"

"It’s all right; you two have lots of time to figure out what I already know. Assuming I can find a way of getting us back home.” She gave me a reassuring hug. “In the meantime, I've been thinking about what could happen IF we end up on that plane to France. Just a guess, but, I know how you feel about diapers and I suspect you won’t be too happy about wearing Sally's cloth diapers or being changed by the nanny."

With terror in my eyes, I violently shook my head.

"I thought not. I guess it’s up to you and me to potty train Sally, and in the next two days. You ready for a new challenge?"

"Sound like good idea, but how do I re - train muscles?"

"I don't know anything about retraining muscles. I just figure it’s the same as training them the first time. Starting tomorrow morning you're in the Kimberley Thomas - oops, I guess that's the Arabelle Moreau, two-day diaper to panty, potty training course. What do you say?"

"What you know ‘bout potty train?” I realized I’d fallen out of character, and forced myself back.

"Being that my Mom was working two jobs to support us, one at the local diner during the day and most nights she was running the projectors at the Cineplex, it was up to me to take care of my little brother and sister, after school and at night. I didn't want to spend lots of time changing and washing diapers, so I learned how to potty train them. You know, since I’ve been at school, I’ve read somewhere that boys are harder to train than girls. Having done one of each, I'd have to agree, boys DO take longer to train. You'll be my first TG girl."

"Is that good or bad?"

"I don't know. You certainly have a big enough reason to get out of diapers."

"Got that right. Never do this again," I complained, slapping my padded bottom. "Not wear again for nobody."

"I don't blame you, not one bit. Personally, I don't know how Mr. Black talked you into it."

"It best way help, lots of peoples. Is we helping," I softly mumbled.

"I'm sure we are, Munchkin, I'm sure we are. You ready for some sleep now?"

"Oh-kay, no more tears. Me berry seepie. Story pease?"

"All right Munchkin, close your eyes and I'll tell you a story."

I was drifting off as Kimberley was telling me one of the Brer Rabbit tales. Interrupting I asked, "Bellie, tan you open da window?"

"Open the window? Are you hot?"

"No, just idea, way to dit mess-mige Mr. Back."

"Mess-mige? Mr. Back? You are sleepy. Goodnight Munchkin," she said before kissing my forehead.

"Dood nigh, nigh-"

* * * To Be Continued * * *
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