Timeout 4, Reel to Real: A Whateley Academy Fan fiction

Joanie tells the bittersweet news about their parents to the Smith twins. A sleep-over is held, pizza ordered and a card cheat uncovered. The farm rehab progress smoothly at first. Joanie gets a surprise invitation to perform and great news from the Senator. And her farm house blows up. And you thought there would be typos in the synopsis, ha!

Andy Warhol said,"In the future, everyone will be famous for 15 minutes." What if your 15 minutes came late in life, and fame decided to never let you go? Could you survive the circus your life would become?

Timeout 4, Reel to Real: A Whateley Academy Fan fiction

This is fan fiction for the Whateley Academy series. It may or may not match the timeline, characters, and continuity, but since it's fan fiction, who cares? To see the canon Whateley Stories, check out either Sapphire's Place,

(http://www.sapphireplace.com/stories/whateley.html) or the Big Closet (http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/taxonomy/term/117)."

Here’s the first chapter in part four of my TG/sci-fi/superhero/magic and anything else that comes to mind epic. It’s not that bad; I do have an overall story arc in mind, honest. I’m much better than when I started this, though my grammar and spelling remain flawed; ask Itinerant, if he is still coherent. Your constructive criticism and advice continues to help. This is an exercise in the joys of creativity and in appreciation of the wonderful Whateley Universe. Any violations of copyright, trademark or use of real people or incidents are purely for purposes of humor or parody and done solely for the free enjoyment of the reading public. All rights reserved in perpetuity, John from Wauwatosa WI, 2005-2007.

Adult content advisory: this chapter containts situations and topics unsuitable for young minds or your sanity. If you survive that pap, there is some adult content too, so be warned.

Timeout 4

By John from Wauwatosa
Additional Jade and Jinn material by Babs Yerunkle
Infinite patience by Itinerant
Pronoun policing by Janet Nolan

Chapter 1, Welcome to Adulthood 2, This Old Farm House -- A Blast From The Past 1, Congratulations, It’s A Girl 3, You BET Your Life 1

Whateley Academy Dunwich, April 30-May01, 2007

April 30, 2007, 3:30PM

Pinky and I fed George and Gracie, cleaned their box, and did the usual stuff you do for a pair of vicious predators -- flipped them on their backs and trimmed their claws; put their collars back on after brushing them and breaking out the oversize ballistic-nylon catnip mice, one per carnivore, no fighting. A cat-fancier friend of Cindy's, who was in the same costuming class, had made some up a few days ago in exchange for a chance to pet them. They -- the catnip mice -- showed signs of, um, wear.

~~Uh, half-shredded already, I’d better see if she can make these in stainless-steel mesh, like those shark-proof suits. Nah, that’s too harsh on their teeth; maybe rawhide backed with Kevlar?~~

We left for the King Annex and the Saber’s practice.

* * * *

I’d called Tina and Chris Anderson, and they got hold of Lonnie and Cheryl for me, so they all knew about the Smith’s parents. I also made a quick call to Madison for the latest update; Mrs. Smith’s condition had not changed, but it was no worse. The NC supers were taking guarding Suzy’s close family as a debt of honor. GG informed them that ‘Joanie’ had saved the life of their daughter, one of the Wisconsin Ultra-X-Amine victims, and was a close friend to all the victims. My cousin Christine was right; my reputation was not just a Midwest thing. I was warned by GG that more autographed copies of that certain magazine would be needed. I may need to invest in an autopen at this rate.

I’d managed to catch Jenny, as Pinky and I left Poe, and she promised to warn Cindy prior to the band practice. She’d offered to help Cindy move a marimba from the main concert hall to our practice room, which was not exactly a one-woman job. Frankly, I think Jenny has her eye on Cindy -- lucky Cindy. I’d hoped to intercept Suzy earlier, but she had raced from her last class to a rendezvous with Tom to swap spit; it had to be, given what they were busy doing when Pinky and I arrived at the annex.

“How long have you two been at this?” I asked.

“It’s four, now, so about an hour. It was fun!” admitted Suzy.

~~ They look so cute together. I have got to talk with those two. ~~

Eric and I are above such lewd public displays of affection, preferring to hug, snuggle, and then subconsciously ...... ah-hum each other to the brink of intercourse, as nearly happened on Easter Sunday morning. On second thought, dear d/j/w, Tom and Tina are doing okay; it’s Eric and I that need the talking to. For a girl who said to take things slow; I’m moving awful fast.

~~A full hour of kissing unsupervised, their teen hormones surging, and they didn’t lose control -- amazing. An hour of ‘that’ with Eric, and I’d be buying one of those home test devices in a few days and praying it’s not ‘positive’. That’s assuming I wasn’t in jail on charges of statutory rape. Maybe I’m not ready for the boyfriend/girlfriend dynamic, but if I don’t snag him now some other cutie will capture his heart and I’ll just die!

~~... Damn! Am I one of those girls who gives it up to her boyfriend to deliberately get pregnant and thus ‘he has to marry me’? I have got to think this over. Joanie, he’s a kid, he’s still in the freakn’ eighth grade. That’s eight more grades until he’s though collage, four until he’s fair-game for my *feminine wiles.* As to my ‘kissing’ cousin and Tom, with all those endorphins in their systems at least they’ll be cushioned for the bad news. I hope Tina has something to fall back on … I mean, something to comfort her. Just great, *that* got me thinking about sex; I AM obsessed with it. At least I’m in a better mood to tell Tom and Tina the bad news.~~

Everyone took their seat and got their instruments ready. I plugged in my guitar and powered up my amp to make things look normal. I received a telepathic message from Tina and Chris Anderson that they were in the hallway outside the practice room waiting as backup.

“Thanks for being here today. Before we start, I have an announcement,” I said placing my guitar in a stand as my co-conspirators moved into position.

I turned to face the Smiths, Pinky moved next to Tina, and Lonnie moved in next to Tom and Suzy. Cheryl, Jenny, and Cindy positioned themselves to intercept and tackle Tom and Tina if needed. Tina and Chris Anderson were the deep safeties. Maybe I should diagram this play? I apologize for the humor dear d/j/w but the next few minutes were not pleasant.

“Tom, Tina, my friend Janice from Madison -- Glacier Girl: tall, Nordic, breasts like Lara Croft after implants?” I said and giggled nervously. “She called today with word of your parents,” I said, forcing myself to stay professional.

~~That sounded stupid, but I hate telling them this. ~~

“They found Mom and Dad?! Can we talk to them? This is great!” Tom and Tina yelled out alternately.

Tom’s face dropped into a frown when he saw the expression on my face. Suzy hugged him tight and Pinky grabbed Tina’s hands in both of hers. I could barely stand to look them in the eyes. Tina stared to sniffle.

“The kidnappers beat your mom savagely, trying to make her say where you’d been taken. She’s in the Mutant Wing at the University Hospital in Madison now. Your mom’s under the care of the same doctors that saved you. It’s not that she’s a mutant; it’s for her safety. She’s in poor shape, we won’t know for a while if....” I left it at that.

“How’s Dad?!” Tina demanded loudly.

Her expression was wild; she was near panic, and her face was streaked with tears. Pinky shifted to hug her tight while the rest of the crew in the room moved in closer to comfort the twins. Tom was fighting back tears; Suzy held on tight — this could as easily have happened to her parents. Tina Anderson sent me a telepathic message to continue, and that they had our backs.

“They beat your father far worse; he died three days after the kidnapping. I’m so very sorry,” I said, not noticing I was crying.

Tom’s reaction surprised me, though maybe it shouldn't have; he is a tough kid. He smiled at me despite his tears while he hugged Suzy as if she was a lifesaving ring and he was a drowning man.

“How is Mom? Can she talk to us? Can we speak with her? Did the ... bastards leave any clues behind, Joanie?” he asked in a remarkable display of self-control.

I could see he dearly wanted to cry in outrage, but he willed himself to be brave for his sister and Suzy. I’d liked him from the start, but my opinion of him as a man rose greatly this day.

~~You’re a good man, Tom, being strong for your sister and girl friend when your soul wants to scream at the heavens. You’re far more mature than I thought.~~

“I approve of ‘bastards’ in this case, Tom,” I said, and giggled nervously.

~~Ghods, I’m more like my dad than I thought -- laughing at an inappropriate moment. I think I understand you now, Dad. Forgive me.~~

“GG wasn’t sure, to answer your questions, Tom. Your mom has a broken jaw they will have to set surgically once she’s stabilized. She has many other injuries; they may not be able to fully treat them all at once. It will take time before they will know when she can have visitors. As to the investigation, I don’t know what evidence they found. I wish I knew more but I don’t.”

I didn’t like lying, but it was a white lie; I had every confidence in my friends’ ability to heal Mrs. Smith -- I hoped.

“Your mom’s doctor is Dr. Sara, the same doctor you and I had. There is no one better in the whole state. She’s an empath, and one of her nurses is an empath/telepath. That nurse ‘talked‘ with your mom; it was difficult as she’s not fully conscious. Your mom knows her husband is dead, but she knows you’re both safe with me at Whateley. They beat your parents to make them tell where you’d been taken, but they never cracked. They must have loved you very much.”

I paused to compose myself. Tina was weeping, but watching me intently, Tom kept glancing from his sister, to Suzy, to me.

“The hospital is doing everything possible to save your mother; Gin has called in several magic experts to see if they can help. GG knows to call me any time, day or night, with news of your mother. I promise you will know minutes after I do, even if I have to run fresh from the showers wrapped in only a bath towel to do it.”

“Joanie, why would you have a phone in the shower?” asked Cindy as she held in a giggle.

That got a small snicker from Tina. I smiled despite my sadness; I needed to boost their confidence, not undermine it. They seemed to be settling down when Suzy got this look of fear and hugged Tom hard.

“What of my family; are they safe, Joanie?” she cried out, as Tom hugged her back.

“GG told me the FBI is watching your parents and close family 24/7. The Ultra-X-Amine homolog case is a top priority; it’s considered a threat to national security. Some North Carolina supers are watching your family, too; they are friends of our MSG pals. MSG and the Greater Milwaukee Mutant Group are keeping a close eye on your relatives in Milwaukee and my family, too -- they won’t fail us,” I said. “The NC supers know your parents are close friends of a ‘nationally prominent super’,” I pointed at myself, “so they consider them ‘family’. No one threatens family,” I emphasized.

~~Especially MY family, Suzy. ~~

“Thank God, Joanie. I was so worried. You will tell Tom and Tina soon as you know anything more?” Suzy asked excited but relieved. I walked over, gave all three of them hugs and they calmed down.

“What we need tonight is cheering up, and I am the head cheerleader,” I said.

I waved my arms in the air and jumped up and down. Not much of a routine, but I never was a cheerleader -- so there! At least I was perky and bouncy, very bouncy, with my figure. Tom seemed to enjoy it, for a while.

-- THWACK! -- Suzy’s hands slammed together in front of Tom’s face like a cymbal crash.

“Tom, if you are serious about being my boyfriend, ‘that’ had better not happen again. I’m not a jealous girl by nature, but I’m not some cheap slut to be ignored and insulted, got it, Mister?” Suzy said VERY deliberately.

~~SUZY!? Where did this spitfire come from? ~~

“But, what did I do wrong?” Tom asked, clueless.

~~BIG mistake, you’re on your own now, buddy. ~~

“If ‘you’ don’t know, then I’m not speaking to ‘you’, PIG!” she growled sardonically. Tom looked heartbroken, even scared. “And as for you, Ms. Joanie Brown…” she said, paused and moved next to me.

“Yes?”

“Can you show me that move because it, like, totally rocked!” she said, laughed and gave me a flamboyant hug. The rest of the gang looked at Tom and broke up.

“Do you want to have our band practice today, or should we have a sleep-over in Tom and Tina’s room? I figure everyone will want to talk tonight or just hang out,” I said and smiled. “You’re not in this alone.”

* * * *

We voted to skip the practice for the night -- our hearts weren’t in it -- so we packed up, and walked to Hawthorne. Chris and Tina Anderson explained to the house-mother what was going on while I got Security on my special cell phone and filled them in on the details. We got comfortable in Tom and Tina's room and ordered pizza delivery. We decided to skip the cafeteria this night as we weren’t hungry at first, and it seemed the right thing to do.

“Quiet, now, I’m on the phone. Okay, that’s two large cheese,” I said.

“Three,” one of my friends called back.

“Sorry, three large cheese, two large cheese and pepperoni, one large deluxe deep-dish, two cheese and sausage with bell pepper, a large Hawaiian pizza and one large heartburn special with extra onions, garlic, hot peppers and anchovies... Yes, every one is a large... We’re growing girls, that’s why! -- ‘I’m sorry, Tom’, I mouthed -- ... We want eight cold two litter sodas, that’s four Pepsi and four root beers.... What? ... Sorry, no Pepsi, Coke,” I said in a vaguely Slavic/Middle-eastern accent.

They all nodded, they’d learned not to question my ‘asides’ too often for fear I’d do more.

“Yeah, cold Coke and root beer will do, send some cups and napkins, please. Oh, add a half-dozen big bags of tortilla and potato chips and assorted dips... Perfect... That will be HOW much!?... You’re charging for delivery because it’s too small an order? Ten large pizzas plus extras is a small...? They ordered what?... I guess this is ‘small’ by that standard; we’re feeling a little ‘down’ tonight... Can’t we get some sort of discount, please?”

<~~Like ‘I’ need the money, but it’s the principle of the thing.~~

“…Yes, go on... Are you ef’n crazy? You do know who I am?... Yes, I’m her... You’ll do what if I?... You have got to be kidding!... For ‘that’, this had better be at cost and on time... If I do what, it’s free? I’ll say this only once: I’m also a Whateley Security officer; do you want to rephrase that?... Better,” I hung-up and snickered.

~~I sounded like that old Saturday Night Live restaurant skit or an old Bob Newhart comedy routine. Why does the Pizza Pit have only Coke products while the menu listed Pepsi? Come to think of it the school cafeteria changed over to Coke recently, too. They have the low bid? ~~

They’d all crowded around me as I ordered; now they scrambled for the best seats. Several appropriated the beds, then the couch, all the chairs were quickly occupied followed by much of the modest floor space -- with nine of us we were crowded, but cozy.

“Okay, what do we want to do? I’m up for anything... legal” -- that got some snickers -- “except strip-poker, that’s out. With only one guy it hardly seems fair,” I argued.

The pizza came in under 25 minutes. The pies were hot, tasty and generously topped, the soda and dips were cold, the chips were unbroken and they included knives, plates and lots of napkins -- even free breadsticks and dipping sauce.

I, um -- I was scandalously brazen -- I hugged the delivery boys. You thought I was gonna boob flash them or strip, didn’t you? I drew the line on anything even approaching French kissing -- who knew where’d they’d been, or if they were 18 and over? For the tip, I kissed them each on the cheek -- like their grandmother. They left woefully underpaid and blissfully happy.

“The things I do to save a buck!” I said.

I closed the door and giggled as my friends laughed.

~~Good, they’re laughing. If it takes Tom and Tina’s minds of their troubles, it’s worth it. ~~

We ate and talked for several hours. Tom and Tina cried a few times, but we soon had them smiling again. It wasn’t always easy, though.

We were talking casually after we ate, shooting the breeze. We started talking about what we would do after the end of the spring term.

“I’m going back home and work in my parents' accounting firm; they always need help with the files,“ Cheryl said.

“My parents are taking me to Disney World to meet with my cousins,” Cindy spoke.

“I’m staying here and working on Joanie’s construction projects as long as I can. I was raised by a single mom, and money is tight this year,” Jenny said.

“I’m stuck here or with Joanie, if she’ll have me,“ joked Pinky, I smiled.

If I’d been paying closer attention, I would have made more of Tom and Tina’s eerie silence -- it would have saved us some grief.

“Until this Ultra-X-Amine homolog trouble changed my life, I was supposed to go to Paris with my old French class and later to Wisconsin with my parents to visit Mom’s side of the family. I really miss them,” Suzy said wistfully.

“I was lucky my dad could come and...” I began, then stopped as Tina collapsed on the bed sobbing, followed moments later by her brother.

“What’s wrong?” Suzy asked and tried to hug Tom; he pushed her away.

~~Oh shit! Stupid, stupid, stupid Joanie! ~~ I recovered fast.

“That’s okay; there is nothing wrong in grieving for your dad, Tom. That goes for you, too, Tina, dear. We forgot, no, I forgot. Please forgive me for not realizing it in time. Go ahead and let it out; it doesn’t make you any less of a man or woman to cry when you lose a loved one. I cry for my mother sometimes, and even my long dead cat, Charlie,” I said in a soothing tone as I gently held Tina. I wept too: for mom, my sister, my grandparents, aunts and uncles and even Charlie, my cat.

“Oh, Tom!” Suzy cried, then she hugged him so firmly he couldn’t push her away. After a while, he put an arm around her.

* * * *

We all let a lot of pent-up stress out that evening; I lost track of who hugged who or provided a shoulder to cry on. More than one individual helped me out; I remember that much.

It took a while -- most of an hour -- but the long cry seemed to ease their pain. I know I felt better. We started a game of cards to take our minds of things for a while; it evolved or degenerated -- take your pick -- into strip-poker. I guess I inspired them through reverse psychology. It did keep our minds off the bad news, and we did set a loss limit of no total nudity.

After playing for a couple hours, I noticed a disturbing trend.

“Pinky, I think you are cheating,” I accused her, but grinned happily.

“Why do you say that?” she asked innocently as she absentmindedly rubbed one of her bare feet.

“Let’s see: I’m down to a bra, panties and half-slip; Tom is in his briefs T-shirt and socks; Jenny and Suzy are both out of the game as they have only their bras and panties on. Shall I go on, Ms. Empath? Skill and luck have their role in card games, but be real,” I explained.

“Busted, Pinky!” Cheryl said -- looking cute in her tiger-striped lingerie and Hello Kitty socks.

“I think Joanie is the ‘busted’ one here,” Tom said and pointed to my chest.

That got him a playful slap up the back of the head by Suzy. That also got giggles from me, and I shocked myself with a thought.

~~Strange, I’m in intimate contact with all these attractive, half-naked teens and I’m not aroused? Wow! I finally have some control -- about time too. ~~

“Tom, stop ogling my aunt,” Suzy admonished. “That’s not polite, and I have plenty to keep you interested,” she said, winked and giggled while pointing at her own curvaceous body.

To put it bluntly, Suzy is stacked. Not as amply as I am, but for a still growing girl she had nothing to be ashamed of. We played one last hand; I had three of a kind.

“I call, Joanie,” said Pinky.

“Three jacks, read 'em and weep,” I said in a Western saloon drawl.

Pinky laid down a full house.

“Pay up,” she grinned.

“Fine,” I said and began unhooking my bra.

Pinky laughed so hard she got dizzy.

“Don’t you want to see them? A bet is a bet,” I said and pointed at my now loose bra.

I was barely decent, but my silly antics kept the Smiths cheerful.

“I’ll accept a hug instead,” Pinky said.

She hugged me and re-hooked my bra tenderly. We all got dressed and decided what to do next.

“It’s getting late; it's almost eleven. Do you want us to stay?” I asked Tom and Tina. I preferred they thought our watchdogs were their own idea.

“It’s crowded, but fun; please stay. I don’t want to be alone tonight, and Tina doesn’t either,” said Tom smiling through his pain.

“I was so scared earlier; it helped having my friends with me. Stay,” said Tina and she sniffled.

“It’s official! Sleepover, gang,” I declared.

* * * * *

This was not going to be as easy as we thought. No matter how we lay down -- even with two to a bed -- there wasn’t enough room ...

“...unless we start stacking bodies, Joanie,” Chris Anderson observed.

“That could be fun depending on who’s stacked on who or whom,” I said and giggled; I was in a good mood.

“Joanie, are you blushing?” asked Tina Anderson. She whispered in my ear, “Hon, your ‘headlights’ are erect. Are you getting aroused?”

~~Damn! I knew it was too good to last. ~~

Pinky must have overheard, because she started snickering and blushed -- cute really.

“I’m 17, I am. I cain’t help I’m a healthy littl’ girl, Gov’ner,” I said in a bad Cockney. The Andersons broke up, but everyone else stared.

“I’m heading to my own room; no one appreciates my Eliza,” I said and pouted. “At least my smilodons love me.”

“And they won’t inflame that pesky libido of yours,” Tina Anderson smirked.

I smirked back with a vengeance.

“Oooh, I get to play with my....“ I cooed, but was interrupted.

“Don’t you dare, Joanie! You’ll warp our innocent minds with your filth,” Pinky snapped and laughed.

“Awh, I can’t even say the punch-lines to my groaners? That’s not fair,” I pouted again while several girls high-fived Pinky.

“You’d better go, Joanie. If you stay, we’ll never get to sleep,” Cheryl said.

We voted, and the kids would all stay; we ‘adults’ -- the Andersons and I -- would go back to our own accommodations. That left the four girls -- Jenny, Cheryl and Cindy, plus Suzy -- to watch the Smiths.

“I’ll go; I know when I’m not wanted,” I sniffled. “If you need me for anything, call, okay?”

I knew the Smiths had their Whateley Security supplied emergency devices and I’d recently bought Pinky a cell phone so we could stay in touch as the farm housing project picked up speed.

The Andersons and I said our goodbyes and left.

* * * *

“I owe you for this, girls,” I said.

“Our pleasure, we didn’t have to do much. We monitored the twins and were prepared to ‘send’ some gentle ‘calming’ thoughts a couple times, but didn’t. The presence of their friends did the trick; good job, Joanie. And we wouldn’t have missed that poker game for anything,” Tina said, grinning hungrily.

“Can’t you wait until Playboy comes out? You can ogle me all you want, then,” I complained.

“But it’s so much better in person. Are you sure you don’t want to stay with us tonight? We could carry on from where the poker game left off,” suggested Chris.

“No, I’m an old-fashioned girl, I guess. I’m no prude -- things were hot and heavy between some of the gals at MSG and me -- but I owe it to myself to try and be faithful to Eric. I’ve found someone special who will only become more so over time. I won’t risk it, even for such fine women as you,” I declared.

“Understood, but that doesn’t mean we won’t keep trying, dear,” Tina said.

She embraced me, kissing me with her tongue while Chris deftly stroked various areas on my body.

“No, I... please... Oooohophf!” I moaned exuberantly, though it was muffled by Tina’s talented mouth -- I could hardly stand after that.

“That’s a taste of what you’re missing out on, Joanie. Goodnight,” Chris said as they got on her Kawasaki and road off.

“Damn, those girls are hot. You’d better be worth it, Eric,” I said out loud to no one.

* * * *

I tended to my smilodons, stripped to my undies, and threw myself onto my bed. Dreams did not come quickly, as I spent much of the first hour bursting into tears sporadically -- the day’s events had finally caught up with me.

I woke to the annoying sound of my cell-phone. GG was true to her word and called me with important news regarding Mrs. Smith. I was not grateful, at first.

“Joanie. Wha’ the fuck d’yah want?... It’s three-thirteen in the morning, moron, and I’m tired and cranky -- what gives, Einstein?”

On hind-sight, that was not a polite way to answer the phone. GG was diplomatic.

“My aren’t we little Miss Sunshine, Joanie? You said to call if there was important news about Mrs. Smith,” GG said cheerfully.

“Oh Ghod, GG, I’m sorry. You said Mrs. Smith -- good news, please?” I pleaded, shocked wide awake.

“Donna -- that’s her name -- is responding better than expected physically. She regained full consciousness for most of an hour before she had to rest. Dr. Sara thinks Carrie’s empathic conversations have inspired her to fight for her life and her children. She wouldn’t have made it this far, if she wasn’t a stubborn girl. Mentally she’s distressed, but she's showing resilience. We’re keeping an empath on hand round-the-clock to assist her. She’s been upgraded from critical to guarded,” GG said.

“Can she communicate normally?” I asked.

“She can squeeze your hand with her one good hand -- one for yes, two for no, three for I’m not sure/I don’t understand -- and she understands when the nurses talk to her. Until her jaw is fixed, it’s intensely painful for her to try and speak. Carrie confirmed that Donna knows her kids are safe at Whateley, and that she’s a widow,” GG explained.

“How’s her condition?” I asked.

“They think her vision is okay, but she suffered abrasions to her corneas. One has an infection, but the infection is responding to the latest genetically engineered antibiotics. Once she’s stable enough, they will operate on her jaw, pelvis and other broken bones. After that it’s a matter of clearing up any infections and rehab. How soon she can have visitors is unknown; she’s not pretty to look at for now,” GG said, and sighed.

“You see she gets the best, and don’t let the insurance people give you fits. Anything they won’t cover, I will -- no limit. If they give you a hard time, call me,” I said forcefully.

“We have, that is, Senator Joe called Mrs. Smith’s insurance carriers; all her bills will be covered. We have a direct line to the CEO of her primary insurer; Senator Joe scared them shitless,” GG said with a hint of a chuckle.

~~The Senator’s involved, I wonder why? … Duh, Dr Sara spoke with him — clever girl.~~

“Keep me informed; Tom and Tina are desperate for news of their mom. Can I get some sleep now, Brunhilde?”

“Bad jokes? You are feeling better about this, Barbie. Say hi to Skipper and Ken,” GG said, then hung-up.

I considered waiting until a decent hour, say 7AM, but I’d promised, and if I lost sleep, so should the others.

“Timeout to Security ... Leaving Poe for Hawthorne -- the Smith’s room, ETA 15 minutes, on personal business, Timeout, over,” I radioed.

“Acknowledged, Timeout, Dispatch out.”

I slipped on my runner’s warm-up suit, and my trainers, and jogged over to Hawthorne. My set of keys and codes could get me into most places on campus, so I used the side entrance and stairs nearest their room rather than the main entrance. I quietly walked to their room and knocked; a bleary-eyed Cheryl opened the door carefully. She looked worried until I smiled. I entered, and she closed the door behind me.

“Joa ... nie,: Cheryl yawned ,”what’d you wan’,” she said, yawning again.

“I have good news. Why are you up, Cheryl?”

“I took guard duty and slept in front of the door. Remember I’m a night person, not a morn’ person,” Cheryl said and yawned, clearly exhausted.

“I owe you an automatic coffee maker for this, Cheryl.” I heard the others stirring.

“Someth’n wrong?” murmured Pinky. I made sure they were all awake.

“I’ve good news. GG called from Madison, and they upgraded Mrs. Smith from critical to guarded. My old Dr. Sara thinks she’ll recover -- though it will take months,” I said in a soft, measured voice.

”Mom’s okay?” Tina gasped.

“GG wouldn’t lie to me; she wants to get in my panties. She’s a great gal, oversexed, but a good person."

“Mom’s getting better?” Tom asked nervously; Suzy held his hands while resting her head on his shoulder.

“She’s regained consciousness -- they plan to do some surgeries to fix her jaw, hip and limbs. She’s still in bad shape, but she’s much stronger. Maybe in a few days you can talk to her, though speech won’t be easy for her for some time. I can pass messages on to her if you like. If you oversleep, don’t worry. I’ll clear it with your instructors; this was a family emergency after all.”

They all grinned despite their sleepiness.

“Don’t use it as an excuse to skip classes deliberately; I’m not in that good of a mood.”

I gave everyone hugs, then skipped back to Poe; it felt so good to be alive.

* * * *

May 01, 2007

I woke, reluctantly, to two bundles of fur and claws gently pawing my eye-lids and rubbing against me to get my attention. It was fully light out, but being the first of May, this made sense.

"Alright, be patient little ones; Mommy will feed you.”

I rinsed out their water bowls and food dishes and gave them their morning feed which they ate with terrifying eagerness.

“Sob!” I said as if acting in a camp melodrama, “Those poor kibbles didn’t stand a chance.” Then I saw the time. “Crap! It’s twenty to eight and I haven’t showered or anything!”

The residents of my floor were treated to the sight of Joanie in full panic mode. My entire shower -- transit included -- took less than five minutes including my hair which I wrapped in a towel to dry. I was dressed and out the door ten minutes later, my hair slicked down and heavy with moisture. I ran to Hawthorn, flashed my Security badge at the housemother, and ran to Tom and Tina’s room. I pounded on the door.

“Everybody up! It’s nearly eight AM!” I shouted.

I was greeted by an owl-eyed Cheryl and no one else.

“Why all the racket? Oh, it’s you, Joanie. What time did you say?”

“It’s two minutes to eight in the morning; where is everybody?” I asked.

The room was clean and neat except for a blanket on the couch where I presumed Cheryl had moved when one of the others took over ‘guard duty’.

“They got up at six-thirty, I think, and left for their respective dorms to clean-up and dress. I was out of it, so they let me snooze. I’d better hustle, or I’ll be late for class. Sorry about missing the farm stuff today,” she said.

"You earned it protecting our friends; I’ll still pay you, Cheryl. I’ve got to go, you’ll be okay?”

“Go, Joanie, I’m too awake now to fall back to sleep even if I wanted to, and I so want to,” Cheryl said and stretched her body.

* * * *

I rushed to toward the Crystal Hall, noting a few of my crew waiting at my truck over at Administration.

“Be with you in five!” I shouted to them. The rest of the crew, most from last night’s sleepover, were at my favorite table. I was assaulted with some sort of breakfast sandwich, and an insulated cup of coffee so large Cheryl would have approved.

“Ice, milk, a touch of sugar and regular coffee, gack! Just as you like it, Joanie,” said Tina looking happier and almost motherly towards me.

“You didn’t have....”

“I did. I got the coffee; Tom figured an egg sandwich would fill your tummy. Thanks for last night. You didn’t have to wake us with the news, but thank you. We all slept much better after, even Cheryl. Where is she?” Tina asked.

“She's frantically getting ready for classes. I found her asleep in your room at two minutes to eight,” I explained.

Tom looked guilty, and the girls looked cross.

“I thought you were supposed to wake her, Tom,” Tina asked in an accusing tone.

“I tried, but she was out of it. She looked so peaceful, and she had stayed up most of the night for us -- I couldn’t,” he explained.

“That’s okay, I couldn’t either,” said Pinky. “Ready, Joanie? We’re late in leaving for the farm already,“ she added.

We hurried out the door, I did so half on autopilot. I heard someone call out to me.

“Party too much, Blondie? Wet hair, how tacky,” snarked a vaguely familiar voice.

“My friend was up much of the night consoling two of our friends; what’s your excuse, bitch,” Suzy snarled at the rude girl.

I was shocked at the anger behind her words. Then again Suzy is a blood-relative, and you know the rest.

‘’Your friend got my sister suspended from Whateley by tricking her into a fight,” the semi-Goth girl said with venom; it dawned on me who she must be.

“Your sister isn’t possibly the witch who hung with the Omegas last semester, is she?” I asked.

“Damn right, Ms. Silicone. How much did you pay for those ridiculous boobs of yours? You tricked my sister into fighting, and now she can’t find a school that will take her until Whateley rescinds her suspension!" The girl’s face was red with fury.

“I do not have time for this now, Miss. Ask Chief Delarose to show you the security tapes of the incident. Tell him Timeout referred you to him. Your sister fell in with a pack of bullies and thugs. If she straightens herself out, I have no quarrel with her or you. If you believe that bitching at me helps her, fine, be my guest, but it’s a waste,” I said and walked out the door as she stared at us.

“Joanie, why’d you let her off the hook?” Pinky asked.

“That was nasty stuff she said; I’d have had it out with her,” Tom argued as we hurried to my truck.

“I’m staff, I can’t beat-up students, and if she does as I suggest she’ll know her sister is wrong. Then, maybe, both of them will be better off because of me,” I said as we reached the truck. ”Everyone in! Sorry I’m late, some friends needed help last night,” I explained, -- not all the crew was at the sleepover -- and we shot off to my farm.

We were short on space, so Suzy graciously sat on Tom’s lap to make room.

~~They’re flirting in public now; Cousin Christine will kill me if this gets out of hand. ~~

“Hands and lips to yourselves in back, Mr. and Mrs. Smith,” I barked, and everybody laughed.

* * * *

Harry and Fran were there with Jade and Jinn as were several staff members from the Operations department. We met with them as I scarfed my remaining coffee and sandwich. Dainty I was not.

“Sorry we’re late; several friends of ours needed help last night,” I explained.

“No need to explain; the Andersons called on us this morning on their way into Whateley. Fran and I finished the mini-rail system; do you want to see it?”

“Okay, but remember; I’m building a home here, not a mini-theme park,” I said and snickered. Harry and Fran laughed.

“Its purpose is hauling construction debris out and supplies in to the building site as needed, silly girl,” Harry said and immediately appeared upset with himself. “That was rude and inconsiderate. I apologize for my insensitive comment,” he apologized charmingly.

“It’s okay, big, furry guy, and I did put my foot in it. I mean the mini-rail thing had to be for the remodeling, duh!” I said and gave him a big hug -- hey, he’s a big man.

~~It feels like I’m a toddler again, and I’m squeezing a giant Teddy bear -- a rather handsome one at that. ~~

“You seeing anyone special, Harry?” I asked in my sex goddess voice, which is frighteningly like most of my other voices.

“There’s this girl from Poe, Billie Wilson, and she has the cutest blue animé hair. Lots of people think she’d dangerous, but she’s a real sweet young woman,” he said, wistfully.

“Oh, she’s the flying girl who’s part of Team Kimba, Chief Delarose thinks a lot of her. Ms. Hartford had it in for her, so I’ve been told, but then she’s a strange woman. This stays between us, but I think there is a normal person buried under all the layers of efficient bitch. There must be. Ms. Carson stands by her, and I get along with Ms. Hartford and I hate bullies. Sorry, I had a Disney moment,” I said and giggled.

“Not a blonde moment?” asked Fran.

“I’m a strawberry-blonde, thank you very much. That makes me sexy, stupid, and ill tempered, so watch it, Frannie-poo,” I said to Fran and my band members broke out laughing. “Now that I’ve insulted everyone, please show us your mini-rail so we can get to work.”

There was this narrow, low railway track, like someone shrunk an amusement park or zoo railway down in scale. It went in though a door on one side of the wrap-around porch and came out on the other side. The track passed by several 30 cubic yard dumpsters before returning to the farmhouse. It made for one big loop of track.

“Don’t let it confuse you. That is a type of railway they use in some underground mines and back-yard railways but with the latest improvements. The steel rails act as a brace and a core for the maglev system,” Harry said.

“Magnetic levitation? I know it works, but the superconducting magnets are cumbersome, and it’s too expensive for wide-scale use or so I thought,” I said.

“This combines the latest in room temperature superconductors, high-strength steel, laminated rot-proof ties; it's utterly reliable. They’ve been using these in mines for a decade. Maglev is more for braking and propulsion than lift but it assists with that, too. This spreads the load out over a greater surface of the track, reducing wear over conventional rail but at a fraction of the cost and complexity of a full-blown maglev system. The rail-cars use old-fashioned heavy gyros to hold them level and balanced over the narrow track at all times. Not your glamorous high-tech, but efficient and reliable; 'anti-grav’ is nice stuff but troublesome; mines want bulletproof and simple. The prefabricated mini-rail track segments simplify the design and avoid the alignment problems that occur with laid-rail systems. The track pieces together like a fancy toy train set

"With this we can move all the debris out of the house easily and safely and to bring in heavy tools and materials as well. The rail-cars move automatically when full, and are equipped with every proven safety feature so they won’t hurt people. You can push them by hand, too, which is what we’ll do most of the time as an added precaution. It’s easy to move and set up. We’ll soon have a loop run out to the barn so Fran can start her work on the foundation and restoration of the timber frame,” Harry said with pride.

“Fran, you haven’t said much,” I commented.

“Didn’t have to; Harry covered it all. I did some tests on your rock ledge under the barn, and on the old timbers; I should have little difficulty ‘flowing’ the materials as required,” the willowy girl said.

“This is a slick setup, thank you. Harry and Fran, please carry on as Operations instructs. I have my light demolitions and clean-up crew to check on.”

* * * *

I got the crew started on removing any remaining furnishings in the house, as well as any trash, debris, and other junk. I reminded them that if they weren’t sure what it was, they were to call for an expert -- one of the Operations people -- to identify it.

“On an old farm, Lord knows what kinds of chemicals and livestock drugs were abandoned, and they might be dangerous to handle. Be careful; some farmers were known to use dynamite to blast stumps and rocks. You see anything labeled Atlas, Hercules, or DuPont, or, if we're lucky, EXPLOSIVES, don’t touch it. Call Ops or Security; got it?” They all agreed. “Odds are the worst will be lead-arsenate based orchard sprays and DDT,” I said.

“Ms. Brown, I mean, Joanie?” asked Jade. “My sister, Jinn, would like to volunteer to examine the walls and other hard to access area on the project, for a cut of the loot,” Jade said and grinned.

“Huh?” I asked intelligently.

“Operations scanned the walls, but you can only tell so much from that. An old building was likely remodeled many times; sometimes people hid stuff in the walls. The effects of leaking pipes and roofs, or animal and insect damage, don’t always show on a scan. Jinn can make herself small, enter any suspicious wall cavities or crawlspaces, and check them out. We have a pair of mini radios so we can talk while she’s in the cavities. Jinn and I need the extra pay. This may save you money over time. As Mr. Anderson says, lack of knowledge can be fatal,” Jade said confidently, yet polite.

“That is a sound argument: locating rotting wood, bad utilities, or structural deficiencies would be valuable. A while back I helped Operations identify a demon on campus; it was buried in a bottle of sorts. If it had been damaged during the construction project, it would have been a disaster. I’ll accept your offer on the understanding Jinn never works alone doing these searches. She’s to do this only as part of a team with you, Ms. Jade, Stan, Morrie or another responsible professional,” I stated. "Please, no jokes about ‘was the Demon in a Bottle on the shelves next to the Pillsbury’s Armageddon Helper?'” I kidded them.

“Jinn, what do you say?” I asked the dead girl; strange campus, is it not?

“I’m good at things like this; you saw me pulling cable in that pipe. What sis said is okay with you? If we find something valuable in the walls, it’s okay if we split it with you, Joanie? Maybe some miserly old farmer hid a modest fortune in gold coin back during the Great Depression and forgot about it?” Jinn asked and smiled, if you could call that a smile.

“Seems fair; it would be my property legally, but if I never would have found it without your help then a fifty-fifty split sounds reasonable. You’re on your own for now; I have to go back to campus with some of the crew. I’ll be back this afternoon,” I said.

“We each have midday classes, but Stan will transport us as we need it. We won’t let you down,” Jinn said.

* * * *

I drove back to campus with several of the students and went to class. My classes flew quickly by, and I left for the middle lunch period after checking briefly on the kittens and picking up my mail. I got to the Crystal Hall, loaded my tray and sat down to eat. Pinky came soon after.

“If you have the time, help me sort my mail. I got a lot today.”

“Sure, once I’ve eaten,” she replied. “You must have a dozen pieces here, Joanie.”

We spent a few minutes to wolf-down our lunches like the cultured ladies we are before returning to my mail.

“There are bills and bank statements, and a letter from Mr. Ford -- hand addressed too,” Pinky said.

“Let’s see, it says essentially, 'I want to thank you again, yada yada yada', and so on. It’s nothing special, but it’s polite. He’s inviting me to attend any of the big US auto shows at their expense, if I’ll stop at the Ford displays for a few hours and talk to the public. I don’t know; it’s a cheap vacation, I suppose. What do you think?“ I asked.

“Going to a car show could be fun. There’s something from Playboy here, Joanie,” she said.

I opened the thick packet.

“Wow! Look at this, Pinky!” I said in amazement.

“Wow, yourself! You look so pretty,” Pinky said, as she looked at a prototype of the July cover.

They included proofs of my finalized photo shots. With cropping and captions they looked marvelous. Seeing that we are both girls -- well, more-or-less in Pinky’s case -- I showed her a few of the more ‘clothed’ pictures. She agreed they’d turned out well. I’d seen the first selection of prints, but the finished product took my breath away.

~~This is the possibly the most attractive woman I’ve ever seen, and she is me? Mom, I don’t know if you can hear me but for what it’s worth, thanks. I bet you’d approve of your pretty daughter. ~~

“Joanie, there’s a letter from Coke in the packet; it looks like a check, should I...?”

“Open it? Yes.”

She did, then she gasped. “Joanie, it’s ... Oh my!”

“Hand it to me, Pinky. Pay to order of Joan Brown the sum of One-hundred dollars exactly. That’s not much. Pinky.”

It was one of those bank checks where they emboss the amount and signature to discourage alteration.

“Move your thumb over,“ she whispered.

“Oh, I covered up the thousand. One hundred thousand dollars, that’s nice,” I said and went blank for a minute or so.

“You okay, Joanie?” Pinky asked me for the fourth or fifth time.

“Sorry, I spaced out for a moment. That’s a lot of money, Pinky, and what are they paying me for? I don’t recall doing anything for the Coke people.”

“This letter from Mr. Hefner explains it, Joanie. He wrote:

‘Bless you for the little revenue bonus. On a hunch, I contacted Coke and arranged to show them your time stop demonstration. When they saw you scoop the soda out of the air declaring, “This is good soda, I’ll not waste it,“ I thought their jaws would fall off. Enclosed is your share of the royalties for the use of that clip in their print and TV ads, and a release form authorizing Playboy to permit Coke to use these images and your voice from the demonstration. My legal staff and I thought this was only fair and proper, as we never anticipated this would happen. Technically your original model’s release covers this, but under the circumstances legal insisted. Note that this is only the first check from Coke; there may be more.

'Ford bought additional ad space after you purchased one of their pickups, and we may have to add a few extra pages for all the advertising we sold them. You will get a share of that as well -- Ford insisted. Our advance orders indicate July 2007 will be our biggest selling issue in years, possibly the biggest in our over fifty year history. The overseas sales projections are mind boggling; rest assured, Whateley will get its fair share of that pie. Your obedient servant, Hugh,’" Pinky finished.

“P.S. Coke was so happy, they gave your school a sweetheart deal, if you’re wondering why Whateley switched over to Coke, Joanie. Hugh,” Pinky added.

“What have I done?” I muttered to myself.

“Did you say something, Joanie?” Pinky asked.

“Just thinking about how all this will impact my life,” I said.

“Then this one should drive you crazy, or give you a laugh, take your pick,” she said, and handed me a letter.

I read it our loud, “Dear Ms. Brown ... so on and so forth ... as an artist of color ... You are invited to perform on our 2007 Summer Music Special ... all expenses paid ... Sincerely, BET.” I paused for a moment. “That’s nice, an invitation to appear on a cable music special. I get the impression this was a form letter sent out to certain top forty recording artists based on a computer data base. Given how bad they screwed up my old name, I’m not surprised.”

“Screwed up how?” Pinky asked but I figured she’d guessed.

“Given my common last name, and the zip code I lived in included part of the City of Milwaukee, they thought I was African-American. Another database thought my family and I lived in an apartment building — this in a block of only single family homes and duplexes. I’ll admit to being ’one sexy momma’, if that’s the correct vernacular, but me, an African-American, with this pale skin and scrawny booty? I’ve seen hip-hop music videos, I mean, let’s be real. I could never shake it like that,” I said and giggled.

Pinky nearly fell out of her chair laughing. “Think of the shock on their faces if you showed up at that TV special,” Pinky said and cracked up again; I sat there suddenly silent.

“Pinky, that might not be a bad idea, but it needs little work,” I said calmly.

“You’re not planning doing anything devious or underhanded, are you, Joanie? Can I help? It sounds like fun,” she asked and only occasionally broke out in giggles.

* * * *

Pinky left for class. I had a gap before my next one, so I made a phone call.

“Warner Music, how may I direct your call?”

“Mr. Karaoke, please,“ I asked and giggled.

“Joanie, he has a name,” the secretary admonished me while laughing herself. “Nice to hear from you, dear. I’ll get him on the line,” she said.

“Mr. Karaoke here, Miss July,” he said and chuckled.

“Good try, but you're always Mr. Karaoke to me,” I said and giggled more.

“Joanie, at the rate your records are selling, you can call me anything you like. What may do for you today, dear?”

“Why are you always so charming? It makes it so hard to take advantage of you. Do you have any contacts with a top-notch hip-hop, rap, soul, or urban contemporary producer?”

“You thinking of branching out of country, rock, and pop?” he asked. “Isn’t that a tad greedy, girl? You have the charts in a stranglehold, Joanie.
Did you know you’re on the religious charts now? Don’t ask me how,” he said.

“I can hardly wait until Playboy comes out; that should shock them,” I said and snickered. “I keep getting mail that assumes, because of my family name, I’m African-American. BET invited me to perform on their Summer 2007 Music Special, as I am, and I quote, ‘an artist of color,’ end quote.”

“You are Ms. Brown, are you not,” he said jokingly.

“Yeah, like I’m sooo totally ghetto fabulous or whatever, you know!” I said in my fluent val-speak. “I’d like to do an album under an assumed name, with no photos or publicity that indicates who I am. It’s for the challenge of performing music different from any I’ve done before, and for the reaction when I reveal I’m the artist,” I explained.

“Pulling a Stephan King are we, Joanie?” he said, being clever.

“Exactly, like when he wrote those detective novels under a pseudonym,” I replied. “Shankshaw Redemption originally was one, I think.”

“I thought I had you, Joanie,” he admitted.

“Don’t forget I’ve lived for 49 years, Junior,” I teased.

“It’s so easy to forget your history; your face and body scream teenager, Joanie. We do have some interest in the urban/hip-hop part of the music spectrum, Joanie. I imagine you’d prefer an East coast producer given your location in New Hampshire?” he asked.

“That would help, but he must be a solid producer. This may be for fun but I want to record good material, not fluff,” I said.

“I’ll make a few calls, keeping your name out of it. There’s this one top producer with a great sense of humor, I’ll try him first. He’d go for a stunt like this,” he explained.

“Thanks, and I will do a new ‘Joanie’ album for you this summer, promise,” I said.

“Deal, Joanie. Oh, can have your ... “

“... autograph on a July Playboy. Absolutely ... pervert,” I snorted.

* * * *

I went to my afternoon class and was about to drive to the farm when my cell rang.

~~That’s a Washington, DC, area code. ~~

“Hello? Is that you, Joe? How’s the Senate treating you?” I asked.

“Joanie, you’re too quick for me,” Joe said happily.

“Joe, I have caller ID. Your number may be blocked but I did get area code data. What may I do for you,” I said cheerfully; Joe was easy to talk with.

“It’s what you *have* done for me. I want to thank you again for putting me and Sara together, Miss Matchmaker,“ he said.

“I’m glad; she’s a fine woman, and I hate seeing both of you alone.”

“Can you keep a secret,” he asked.

“Oh, juicy Senate dirt; lay it on me,” I said.

“I feel I must tell you as you’re directly responsible for what’s about to happen. Joanie, I took my late wife’s engagement ring in to be copied and repaired.”

~~Whoa! Does that mean...~~

“Explain please. My brain just froze,” I muttered.

“She promised it to the first grandchild who needed one, so I need another.”

“You’re asking Sara to marry you? It’s been a month or two at most!” I was so excited for Joe and Sara I’d missed an important detail.

“I knew my wife only two weeks when I proposed. Sometimes you know, and I’m certain of my love for Sara. I wish I’d met her years earlier. I’m 60, I can’t afford to waste time. Thank you for the advice about giving her a good ... I’ll not say the vulgar term. Let’s say, it was heaven. Sara is a tigress; it took everything I had to keep up with her, but we both ended up satisfied. I missed that so much since my wife died,” he said softly.

~~Babs was in pre-school when Mrs. Williams died, she’s 35 now, so it’s been.... ~~

“You have a lot of lost time to make up for,” I said and chuckled. “You make sure you keep her happy, mister.”

“If she doesn’t kill me, Joanie, but what a way to go!”

“That was my line, Joe, and I agree. She is a lovely woman.”

Joanie, I had to tell you first; I haven’t asked Sara yet. I hope to fly out this weekend,” he explained.

“Take her to China Express’s Chinese Buffet. It’s got good food, and they’ll go crazy when you ask her,” I said.

“The MSG hang-out, of course, and she’ll see the humor in it. Much better than some stuffy formal restaurant; thanks for the suggestion.”

“You let me know, ASAP, either way -- not that she’ll turn you down. My MSG friends told me how odd she’d been acting since your sleepover,” I insisted.

“Will do. I’ll hold you to the same when the time comes.”

“Ah, sure. Bye, I have to go.”

His closing remark reminded me of what he had said earlier. ~~“The first grandchild who needed one?” Ghods, his late wife’s ring is intended for me? Whoa, Eric, I’m flattered but this is all a bit fast… The hunk loves me! … Calm down, girl, you have to wait until he’s old enough. It’s a good thing I’m such an emotionally stable girl.~~

~~My Eric want’s to marry me and he’s told his grandfather! Ghod, this is sooo kewl and he’s sooo hot!! This is terrible, I don’t even have a wedding gown and … So much for your being *emotionally stable*, Joanie. Four years before Eric can reasonably be expected to ask me, and Joe is waiting to hear? The mind boggles. Does he have a caterer and a hall lined up for us?~~

* * * *

I drove to my farm to check on the progress. One of those large dumpsters was close to filled with assorted junk. Harry was inspecting the mini-rail and making some minor adjustment.

“How are we coming along?” I asked him.

“Ms ... Joanie, it’s working out fine. I like to tweak things, but it’s worked flawlessly so far. Jinn and Jade came back after classes and have managed a thorough inspection of every crawl space in the building. They are checking out areas in the walls that the scans suggested looked odd. If there isn’t an existing opening, Jade cuts a small hole with a cordless drill. That way we can inspect the cavity and add insulation with ease later since we have the access,” Harry explained.

“Why not a mini camera on a cable — like an endoscope?” I asked.

“We tried that yesterday, but with all the alterations, and no building code when this was built, many parts of the stud cavities are obstructed. The old blown insulation is a problem in some places. The cameras are hard to aim; Jinn can do a much better inspection,” he said and gave me a big, wolfy grin.

Jade came running up; she appeared agitated but under control

“My sister was checking on a trouble spot in the wall facing the road and something bad happened; she says there is a bomb in the wall.”

~~A BOMB!? ~~

~~Calm yourself, panic will do no one any good, Joanie. ~~

“A freaking bomb! We have a bomb on the farm?,” I shrieked.

~~Joanie; think calm, rational thoughts — you are not a blonde, mostly.~~

“It's not that I doubt her; with a possible bomb it’s best to assume the worst. She‘s certain?” I asked, forcing a professional detachment on my person.

“She was checking-out an object in the wall-cavity that Operation’s scanners couldn’t identify. It could have been an abandoned electrical panel or a home-made wall safe. Once inside the wall, Jinn noticed something strange about the metal box. As she worked her way inside it she saw a grenade — just like the ones you see in a war movie. She tried backing away but brushed a tripwire, which pulled out the pin. The grenade is so old the handle didn’t fly off immediately. She‘s managing to hold it in place, but can’t reach the pin or even see where it fell. And she has no bobby-pin, nail or wire to use as a substitute,” Jinn said precisely, but rapidly. Though she was a petite teenage girl she acted far more mature.

“She was in the walls purely to examine the suspicious areas, so she’s traveling light. This way she could get in and out using the smallest of openings. She has no tools with her, just herself and a mini-radio. Jinn was to investigate those suspicious areas and report her findings via the radio. It allowed us to track her exact location — to pinpoint what she discovered,” Jade explained barely pausing to breathe.

“Jinn’s a spirit, she wouldn’t be hurt if it goes off, would she?” I asked. “I don’t mean to sound callous. If we have to, we evacuate everyone, she releases the grenade and escapes the wall before it goes off. The wall can be replaced,” I said.

“Naw, she wouldn’t be HURT hurt. But I’m sure it won’t feel very nice.”

It sounded to me like she was hiding more concern than she wanted to let on.

“Besides,” Jinn’s got that mini-radio with her. I know money is nothing to you, Joanie, but Jinn and I are wards of the State. It takes forever to earn enough to pay for that sort of equipment!”."

"Jinn can’t reach the pin, you said,” I asked.

"The box is partially full of blown insulation that has worked its way in from above and there is a gap between the open side of the box and the exterior wall. She’s scanned and felt around in the box, but the pin fell down below somewhere and it’s hopeless to find, even if she could reach it,” Jade explained. “My sister is remarkable, but even she has her limits.”

Jade was clearly not telling all, but that had to wait. The safety of those on my farm was paramount.

I got on my cell and called Security. This clearly was a bomb and dangerous.

“Security alert! Possible unexploded explosive device at farm, my location. Evacuating same; send bomb squad. Timeout over,” I radioed to Whateley Security.

"Whateley, acknowledge, possible bomb on your farm, Timeout. ETA five minutes. Do not attempt to move or defuse. Switch to landline if possible; turn all transmitters off. Electric detonation a risk, acknowledge. Over.”

“Bomb appears to be old military grenade, but will comply with warning. You’ve got it; radios off, will use landline. Timeout out.”

We’d run a phone-line into the machinery shed for the use of the construction workers, and the alarm systems Sam recommended.

“Attention, we have a possible explosive device in the south facing farmhouse wall. Shut off all electrical equipment, radios, or cell-phones. Move carefully away from the farmhouse and take shelter in a ditch or behind a stone wall. Wait until a Whateley officer instructs you what to do,” I yelled slowly and carefully. They got the message. The mini-rail shut down, and the radios were turned off along with all the drills and saws.

Harry spliced an extension into the phone wire, and we moved the phone to a point in the deep, road-side ditch, close enough for Jinn’s and Jade’s mini transmitters to be in range, yet far enough to provide some safety in addition to the ditch itself. I got Security back on the phone, and everyone else evacuated to a safe distance.

“Jade, I’m counting on to you to keep in contact with your sister, with my help of course. Call Jinn on your mini radio and tell her we have help on the way, but we need to know her status and anything she noticed about or around the grenade,” I asked her.

“Jinn, Jade here; we have help on the way. What's the status of the grenade? ...I understand... Is there anything suspicious in the immediate area? ...I see. How long can you hold it? ...No way to tie it shut? ...Please wait while I tell Security,” Jade said calmly.

~~This little gal’s one tough kid, if she ever gets bigger....~~

A bomb expert from security reached our position as Jade relayed Jinn’s message.

“Jinn says that the handle, or spoon, on the grenade tried to open so she squeezed it shut. She can’t reach any wire, nails, tape or anything to replace the lost pin or secure the handle. She’s tried hard to reach down below to where the pin fell. She does have shape-shifter powers, but it’s hopeless — it’s too far, and there is too much debris in the wall. She thinks if she lets go the grenade handle will fly off. The problem is she’s near the end of her charge. In five minutes she’ll lose form, and her spirit will return to me. We have to touch to recharge her form. Jinn will be safe, losing charge doesn’t harm her, but the grenade will likely explode, “Jade relayed.

“Damn, five minutes? If we had longer, a robot could drill a hole in the wall and pass in a cotter pin or nail, but that’s too little time,” said the officer. ”We could do it in less than that, maybe, but that would mean an officer drilling the hole without the protection of a full set of bomb disposal armor on. We don’t have the time to get one kitted up, so that’s a suicide mission.”

“I’m very fast for a non-speedster and I’m a high level regen. I’d risk drilling a hole to pass a piece of wire through to Jinn if it would help. You know how bad I was injured during my assault and I recovered,” I offered, part of me hoping he’d say no.

I thought for a moment Jade looked like she wanted to say something but was conflicted and changed her mind.

“It may not be only a grenade, Joanie. Sorry Jade. If you bother to booby-trap a hidden cache, why take half measures? You might hit another tripwire with the drill or something worse -- it’s too dangerous. Someone who goes to all this trouble will likely have rigged several ways to set off the grenade and maybe planted other explosives if we’re unlucky. It’s best we get her out and try a robot after. Jade, can she wedge it, so when she lets go the handle can’t move?”

“Jinn, did you hear the officer? Okay, you do what you think is best but warn us, sis,” Jade said.

“She says she can try, but she’s not hopeful. There is no obvious tight spot to wedge in. Jinn says again that the box is heavy looking steel and covers the interior wall side. It’s open to the exterior wall,” Jade said.

“Sounds like a crude claymore mine, or shape-charge. It’s likely this booby trap was built to kill attacking police. A survivalist did live in the house back in the 1970’s,” the bomb expert said, he looked worried.

“Yes, Jinn. That sounds important; I’ll ask him," Jade said.

“Officer, Jinn said it’s hard to see, lots of cobwebs and fallen insulation obstruct her view but she says there are dusty jars filled with what looks like old nuts and bolts, big ones, and an oily old wood box tight against the back of the steel box that she thinks has the word ‘Atlas’ printed on it,” Jade said.

“That’s bad! Unstable dynamite, am I right?” I asked, my voice squeaking, he nodded.

The officer nodded and used the phone. “Unstable dynamite and shrapnel surrounding the device, evacuate all personnel to at least several hundred yards to the east or west using all available cover. We will abandon forward post. Blast expected to the south but assume no side of the farmhouse is safe,” the officer said.

“Miss Jade, may I have your radio, so I can keep in contact with Jinn? You and Joanie must evacuate now. I will pull back to as far as the radio can reach and give her last instructions then I will pull back again. I have partial body armor and a special helmet, you two don’t,” he said.

“Jade, I don’t care about the house. Buildings can be rebuilt; people are precious. Come with me,” I said and smiled to comfort her.

“Jinn, I’m giving the radio to the bomb expert. Do as he says; Joanie says don’t worry about the house -- people are what counts. Good luck,” she said and handed over the tiny in-the-ear radio.

We retreated and waited.

The officer yelled “Sixty seconds!” and scurried to a place of greater safety.

Jinn looked at her watch; I could see her lips move as she mouthed the seconds until Jinn would lose her form.

“Sixty, sixty-one, sixty-two, sixty-three ...” Jade counted, we waited.

There was an explosion that shook the ground.

“She’s back!" Jade exclaimed with joy, and stood up.

“Get down until the all....” I shouted.

There was a much larger blast. Jade fell backwards, and screamed.

I saw Jade sprawled motionless on her back, except for some spasmodic twitching in one thumb. A jagged great splinter of wood was sticking out of her right breast like a garish vampire stake, I rushed to her side.

* * * *

To be continued