Joanie and Leah meet a fan, get a "ride" from Jay and indulge in more surfing. A secret of Leah's family is revealed. The mommy bug bites Joanie again as does her inability to stay out of the limelight. The girls have lunch in Boston, Miki meets the smilodons and the Sabers. Joanie has suprises at Whateley, learns of Tom and Tina's mom's progress and goes to Boston to finish up for NOVA.

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 another chapter in part four of my TG/sci-fi/superhero/magic/one-size-fits-all 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. (wibble - WIBBLE!!) Itinerant, straps not your style with your build? Heavens! How about this stunning ensemble’, case-hardened chains, locks, handcuffs and burlap sack swimming costume? (Harry Houdini, cleanup on Aisle 4!)

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, trade mark 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 contains situations and topics unsuitable for young minds or your sanity. There is also some adult content written by a middle-age juvenile mind. You were warned.

Timeout 4

By John from Wauwatosa
Pronouns protected by Itinerant
Guest proofing and advice from, TBA.

Chapter 8, Leah 4, Unchained Reaction, M-m-my Jen-eration, Though I walk though the valley of death, Back to Abnormal

Waikiki and Honolulu, Oahu, Hawaii, LAX, Boston MA Whateley Academy, Dunwich NH. May 06-May 12, 2007

Late Sunday May 06, 2007

Leah, Miki and I returned to our hotel after our wild, fun day. I called the airport about a flight to the US and was advised to check with them later as to when space would be available. Limited flights to the mainland were expected resume in the morning, maybe, but likely nothing would be available until mid-morning the next day, unless we wanted standby. At least that’s what the recorded message said as I waited for a live body to pick-up. The typhoon was moving away, but being to the north and east of the islands, the huge storm interfered with the usual flight paths to the US west coast. It would be several days until a full schedule could resume.

“Leah, do you want a good night’s sleep in our comfy hotel room, or do you want to wait in the Honolulu airport for Ghod knows how long for standby seats, um, seats that become available when passengers don’t show up?”

“Bed, please. I want to go surfing one last time if I can. The morning looks promising, what with the typhoon moving away and our being on the leeward side of the island; the waves should still be big, but not the near Condition Black like today. I had fun out there, but anything more would have been beyond me. The surf forecast looks really good for the morning; I checked the marine forecast from the local NOAA web site when you were practicing for the show. The Late Show people had a computer in our trailer, didn’t you know?

"I even got to talk with Mel just before I left to sit in the audience. She was in the Joanie chat room, and everyone was so excited when I said we were safe and that you would be on TV. I told Mel privately you’d call before we left Hawaii. She heard the press reports and that you’d been hurt … you will call her, okay? Please? … I promised Mel I'd show you how to surf. You’ll love it; it’s the greatest!”

“You did enjoy yourself, Leah. I’d better take you up on it since you promised her. Excuse me a moment?” I concentrated on the phone now that I had a live reservations clerk on the line.

”So you are saying there are no seats available on flights to the lower 48 for at least a day, except for standby? No that’s okay, we’re in no rush, I’ll check on availability tomorrow morning. I’m sure you don’t need the extra hassle of a so-called celebrity pestering you,” I told the airline clerk. “Not at all, Ms. Brown, um, Joanie. I saw the interview you gave about the young mutant girl. I'd hope someone would be that selfless should one of my family ever need help. Oh, nice concert! That last song you did had me crying. Get a good night's sleep, you’ve earned it.”

* * * *

We were too wound up after all the excitement. Leah and I decided a dip in the hotel’s pool and a relaxing shower sounded heavenly. We wore the same suits from earlier in the day and were looking fine. Okay, we were looking better than fine -- we were sizzling.

It was quiet in the pool; it was after nine o’clock in the evening, almost ten, and the pool was fairly empty. I don’t think either of us induced too many cases of whiplash and incapacitating blue-balls in the males present. The few individuals present smiled at me; several applauded and politely said they had seen my performance on the show. One of the swimmers, a teenager, had seen my performance at the band shell in person. He told me how much he had enjoyed it.

“Joanie?” the shy teenage boy asked after swimming up to us. “Um, I want to say I’m a fan, and I loved you on TV and you are so pretty I ….” He started to hyperventilate and forgot himself. He inhaled some water and began coughing violently and appeared near panic. My over-30-year-old lifesaving training — plus my refresher classes with Whateley Security -- kicked in, and I put him in a cross-body carry and swam him to the side of the pool. He struggled wildly, but with the cross body carry I had him in there was little he could do to hurt me. So long as we were in the water, I was in total control, it’s all a matter of leverage or the lack of it. I got him safe to the side of the pool, Leah swam alongside just in case.

“You’re safe now. I won’t let you get hurt, guy. Calm down and breathe slowly.” His coughing had stopped, but his breathing was still too fast. I was afraid he’d pass out. Desperate times call for desperate measures. ~~Forgive me, Eric.~~ I kissed the boy hard on the mouth to distract him and to build up his CO2 level to regulate his breathing — like with a paper bag, but so much more fun. He was so shocked by my sudden embrace he stopped breathing for a while. I doubt if we were lip-locked for more than a couple seconds. ~~Damn, I am good at this. I feel like Stupefyin’ Jones from the old Li'l Abner comic strip.~~ Leah helped me restrain him until he was once again in control of his faculties..

“Calm down, I didn’t mean to tease you. The kiss was to stop you hyperventilating. A paper or plastic bag would have worked, but I didn’t have one handy. If I let you go, can I trust you not to panic? I just want to talk. I do have someone I’m seeing exclusively, I didn’t mean to lead you on.. You kiss nice, though,” I said and giggled. We climbed out of the pool, and I suggested we sit on the pool chairs and dry off. He followed Leah and me like a lost puppy.

“Miss Joanie, you must think I’m a player or worse. I didn’t mean to… but I got so excited seeing you then I inhaled that water. I remember coughing, and I couldn’t get my breath; I guess I panicked. Next thing I remember you were kissing me and … I am so very sorry I…”

“What is your name? I’m Joanie, well duh, and this lovely lady is Leah and a dear friend.”

“I, ah, Dave Ohno, my dad is here for a business conference. We’re from LA.”

He was a skinny, but muscular young man. I guessed him to be 15 and probably a JV soccer player or on the track team — he had the build. I swam a lot as a kid, and some parts of the male anatomy are not impressive after being chilled in a pool, or worse after getting out of the pool. Water, as it evaporates, cools you to the point of goose pimples and, um, shrinks things. This is true for guys, believe me, I remember. I’ve learned that it has the opposite effect on women, at least with regards to these two places. To his credit he did not stare at our chests … not too much, mostly.

I am embarrassed to admit — but then I am a female, so I suppose I do this on autopilot — I looked at his crotch. He may have been wet and a little cold, but part of him warmed up fast. Leah noticed and laughed nervously. I remembered her difficulties with sexually aggressive boys and tossed him a towel.

“Dave, cover *that* up. Leah’s uncomfortable, and there are others around.” I said softly. “Don’t feel bad, *it’s* supposed to do that in the presence of an attractive girl.” He looked down and used the towel immediately. I almost suggested he needed a *bigger* towel — the poolside towels were positively huge — but I’d embarrassed him enough. Even my inner girl has her limits -- she does, I swear.

We had a pleasant chat, which helped me relax. I think it helped Leah, too; as she and Dave talked awhile, I went and showered to get the chlorine out of my hair and suit. Leah rinsed off after I finished. Dave and I spoke in the meantime.

“Leah is a nice girl. Does she have a boyfriend? She must, I mean she’s what, 17, 18?” Dave was obviously smitten with her.

“Thirteen, barely, but if you want to write to her you can give me your e-mail address, and I’ll see she gets it. She’ll be attending the same school I teach and study at. Hey, I’m not just a pretty face.”

“I’ve noticed.” He broke into laughter but was still blushing intensely. I figured he had to have a redhead in his family history.

He gave me his email address, and I memorized it. It was easy as it rhymed. Leah came back, and he repeated it to her.

“Will you write to me? Joanie tells me you're only 13, but I just turned fifteen last month. You are pretty, and I liked talking with you, Leah. Whad’ Ya say?”

“Okay.”

He left the pool one happy looking boy, and left Leah with a dazed expression. I questioned her as we dressed for sleep.

“What’s the funny look for, Leah?”

“Dave, I … He’s hot!”

“After what happened to you, the guys trying to ... You liked a boy?!”

“He was nice, and I felt safe with him, you know? I don’t think it would hurt to email him.” Leah was smiling in a *I’m not here at the moment, if you wish to leave a message,* kind of way.

~~Jeese, Leah is zoning out like I do when I see Eric … Oh no, she’s discovered boys!~~

“It’s a good thing this will be by email. You have that look in your eyes, Leah. Be careful, I don’t want you being hurt again. I know dating isn’t easy, I sucked at it as a man. I worry you’ll be taken advantage of. You are vulnerable because you want to trust again. It’s great that you do but still.…”

“Stop acting like my mom!” she said.

“Leah, your mom would not dress like this.” I pointed at my shock-your-mama bathing suit.

“Oh yeah? You should see her when she wants to go out dancing with dad. She wears outfits you’d say are sexy. She may be my mom, but Mom’s no old lady. Remember she taught me to surf, and she’s still better at it than I am.”

“Are you sure your mom isn’t a mutant, or your dad?”

That got Leah to laugh. “No, but sometimes I wonder.”

* * * *

May 07, 2007, Monday

We woke early on Monday morning; the sun was out, and with the wind diminishing it was just an absolutely beautiful start to the day. I was about to call the airlines for reservations, when I noticed a message on our hotel phone from Jay. Leah was using the bathroom so I played back the message.

“Joanie, I didn’t want to disturb you, so I left a message instead. Corporate is thrilled with my suggestion, so if you’d like, we’ll give you a ride back to California. If you wish, another corporate jet will fly you and your friends back to the airport near your school. No strings, dear, just our sincere thanks for a great interview and an outstanding performance on the special. Your producer contacted us, and we arranged with Warners to a joint release of the music from the show; the other bands agreed to it as well. They are thrilled to be on a recording with you. We expect to depart around 6 this evening, Hawaiian time. Call me at xxx-xxxx to let us know. Girl, that last song had me in tears.”

I hung up and found Leah had exited the bathroom at some point during the playback of the message.

“I didn’t hear it all, but do we have a flight?”

“The network agreed with Jay; we can fly back on the Late Show's charter, if we want. That gives us time to shop and surf.”

“What are you waiting for? Call Jay.”

“I hope my cell has service here, I’d hate to pay a hotel phone charge.”

“Joanie, I read somewhere people can pick up cell phone conversations on a scanner.”

“This is a secure phone … Wait a minute, you're right, this is a secure phone, but only when connected to another secure phone. Better bite the bullet and use the hotel’s landline. The risk is low, but you are my responsibility, Leah.

"Let’s see the laminated instructions by the phone say dial nine for an outside line. All local calls are, … Hey that’s reasonable and no surcharge? Not too bad. Maybe that’s why the police put us up here. Okay, here goes, Ahoy-hoy, operator, I wish to make a telephonic call to …”

“Joanie, what *are* you doing?”

“Making a phone call?”

“You were acting like Mr. Burns on the Simpson’s. I appreciate you wanting to cheer me up but we do need a flight out of here.”

“Spoil-sport. Okay, 9, then doot doot doot, dit dit dit boing!”

“Joanie, stop making those silly sounds."

I was about to reply with some of my devastatingly wicked repartee when someone picked the phone. Really, it was this great line, totally original but I don’t remember it. Would I lie? Don’t answer that. So, as I was saying, someone picked up the phone.

”Jay here, how may I help you?”

“Jay, it’s Joanie and her friend; Are you serious about giving us a lift?”

“Joanie, absolutely I’m serious. It’s the least I can do to thank you for appearing on the show.”

“You have two passengers then.” ~~So I lied about Miki, but she’s a carry-on … Damn my conscience.~~ “We have some luggage, and I have a live animal with me I must transport in the passenger compartment. She’s very valuable to me.”

“Not a problem, we have lots of room onboard, Joanie. Be to the airport by five. I’ll leave word with airport security that we are expecting you two for our 6 o’clock charter.”

I thanked him and hung up.

“Joanie, get your swimsuit on NOW! We are going surfing.”

We called our *tail* and checked out of the hotel. They graciously stored our luggage in a secure area and invited us to use the pool shower to clean up after our swim, if we needed it.

* * * *

The surfers and sunbathers on the beach gave us a good looking over, while Leah got us some boards. The waves were low enough a novice could go out with supervision, and Leah was well qualified.

“I saw you yesterday; you rode those big waves like pro. You’re great, miss; ever consider competitive surfing?” the Surf shop attendant asked.

“I have, junior level. I’m only 13.”

“Thirteen? I thought you were least 18. You must be good, particularly given how tall and, um, developed you are for your age. A big growth spurt often throws off an athlete’s sense of their body, their muscle memory. It hasn’t slowed you a bit; you looked great out there, yesterday.”

“I felt like I grew up overnight,” Leah said, as we both giggled. The poor man turned beet red and tried to hide his growing embarrassment with a clipboard. ~~With all the good looking women that he must see, you’d think we wouldn’t have that effect on him. Are we hot or what!~~

Leah gave me a good hour’s dry land instruction. I was taught how to paddle, how to stand up, surfer rules for right of way, and when to bailout, kick out, chicken out, whatever she called it -- all the basics in an intense, condensed version. The girl knew her stuff. Other surfers, several obviously experienced, watched us and nodded their approval.

I’d like to say I took to it like a duck to water, but to be honest, I spent much of that morning spitting up water and sand. Come to think of it, that is how puddle ducks such as mallards sift for food in the mud. Quack!

Leah was patient and kept me out of harm's way, and I did manage a couple modest runs before we had to quit. It was intoxicating, the feeling of being up on that board, the water rushing past, the water soaking my suit, the guys staring at my tightly clinging semi translucent swim suit while wearing their wet clinging … I’m getting turned on again, aren’t I dear d/j/w?

Reader’s Digest version, I -- we had a blast. There was something that had bothered me while I was out on the board, something in the back of my mind, but it wasn’t important at the time. We came in, turned in our boards to polite applause, wolf whistles and worse; I was in heaven and put a little extra into my walk.

The owner of the surf shop congratulated us. “Not bad for a beginner, Joanie. I recognized you.” He turned to Leah. “Miss, you were great out there. Ever considering completive surfing or the pro circuit?”

“I need to finish school first, and I have some other problems to work out before I could do that. I do love to surf though, that’s why I dragged Joanie out on a board.”

“If you ever change your mind, look me up, I have contacts with most of the major tournament organizers here. “ He handed her a card. “Your rental agreement says you are Leah Haleakala from Hana, Maui. Are you related to Mark Haleakala? He was a fair surfer back when I competed in college, and I believe he was from near Hana.”

Leah giggled. “Mark is my dad; he still has his trophies. He’s pretty good on a board yet but fixes boats and fishes for a living. My mom taught me to surf.”

“Your mom must be good. Was she ever surfing buddies with Leilani Naalehu of Maui? Your style reminds me of her.”

“It should, that was Mom’s maiden name.”

“Please call me!”

Leah signed autographs for the group of surfers who has watched us; I was ignored. Apparently her parents were surfing legends in the islands, and by default that made her surfing royalty.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were so famous?” I asked as we walked to the showers.

“I’m not; Mom and Dad are. Jealous are we, Joanie?”

“You bet,” I said and snickered.

* * * *

We were showering to get the sand and salt off our bodies and suits. I turned off my shower and this pulsing spray, like an oscillating lawn sprinkler but much faster, hit all over my lower body.

“What the...?”

~~Forgive me, Joanie, I was drying myself.~~

“Miki?” I said, unable to control my surprise. She was near my feet shaking the water off herself, much like a dog, a handy trick for a fish loving mongoose. ~~I thought you stayed on shore in your carrier?~~

~~I must be near you in case of danger, it is my duty. I rode on Ms. Leah’s man raft, surf board. She is at one with the water, and it was exciting. I was near to both of you, and I can swim without using magic.~~

~~No problem, so long as you were in no danger; I’m simply surprised. If you are dry, get back in your carrier so we can get our luggage and change into travel clothes.~~

The garments for bathing are not suitable? The male humans thought your dress most attractive. Is that not good? ~~

I was shocked, to say the least. ~~Remember how cold it gets back home at Whateley? Remember the white time of death, winter? These swimsuits would not be practical. Most people here wear more clothing than this.~~

~~Forgive me, Joanie, you are right.~~

I thought I sensed something from Miki, something strange and … ~~Is she laughing? Why the little, minx … mongoose devil.~~

~~Miki, have you been playing a joke on Joanie?~~

~~Is Joanie not pleased at my attempt ?~~

I started to snicker and giggle and couldn’t stop; soon Leah joined in as did my furry trickster.

~~N-n-n-n-o, you did fine.~~ I broke up again. ~~I’ve been duped by an animal hardly bigger than a house cat. My Ghod, I AM a blonde!~~

~~Joanie, I like to hear your happy sounds, but there is truth in my joke as you call it. It is hard to explain … I saw how happy you were playing in the great salt water. The people looked on you with desire and envy while you wore the white … swimsuit. Yes, a white swimsuit. I understand more of your language now, but it is not easy. Seeing your happiness while in the swimsuit, I thought you wished to remain like that. When you stopped the man box on wheels … the car, and were consumed with pity and grief I was scared. I feared our enemies had somehow attacked your mind despite my efforts.~~

~~You mean on the island of Maui when I was rescuing Leah, after we had joined our police escort?~~

~~Yes.~~

~~I was upset that I had risked Leah’s, and all our lives, because I did not think things through.~~

~~I said then you did well, and I did not think of you using your time travel power to save us either. You can not be perfect. Only the Goddess is perfect, praise be to her. You must not let your burdens make you sad.~~

~~Huh?~~

~~Your helping Ms Leah for one. Your acceptance of becoming a sorceress under my protection is another. There are other burdens. You must seek the happy things of life. You must be with your mate. My mate was … it was … I am complete again. You need your mate, your Eric, to complete you. You will have many babies. The girls will make great sorceresses and mothers; the boys will be leaders and fathers of a great clan.~~

~~Whoa! I *need* my mate, my Eric, but he is too young — though technically he is ready and able. I’ve seen and felt how *ready* he is and … NO! Miki, don’t project your desires on me. I must wait; humans may be capable of siring and conceiving children at Eric’s age and even younger. That is not to say it is right, or advisable.~~

~~If a girl gets pregnant too young, her physical development as a woman can be harmed along with her long-term health, education, social status and more. I’m sure Eric could have me pregnant quickly — and most happily -- but he is not ready or able to support a family, and he would be harmed. His education and remaining childhood would suffer. He is sexually capable and virile at this age — that is true -- but he is not mature enough to do so of his own free will. Oh he will want to, and I want to, too, but it would not be right. It is hard to explain, but humans are not fully adults just because they can make babies. We take longer than that to become competent as adults, if ever. If I love him, I must wait.~~

~~I feel your pain at the thought of waiting. But I feel pride and anticipation at what will happen if you wait. Oh my, I did not understand. You are right. My Eric was a mature male, one in his prime. I understand now. Forgive me in my enthusiasm. Your Eric is a fine man now; a few cycles of the sun … a few years, will make him more so. I will wait to be guard and teacher to your children.~~

~~What is all this *my children* about? My great-great-yada-yada grandfather said it, and the precognitive lady in Dunwich also said I would have many children. Do you see something of the future, Miki?~~

~~I cannot say. By your desire for each other, and your auras, I am certain you will have many healthy babies together. When I watched you to see if you were my next mistress, I saw as you spoke on the man box, the phone you call it. The sound of your Eric made your aura sparkle with colors. I have never seen its like before. My Mistress Kushalla glowed when in the presence of her Englishman, but nothing like you.~~

~~I have had many mistresses. I know what I know. You will -- the goddess willing -- have many beautiful children with your Eric. I am certain of this, and I will do all I must to make it so. Joanie, I ... I see trouble, much pain ahead, I know not what or when, but you will survive. I do not know why I know this. I could not see things yet to come before. Since we bonded, I have sensed things I did not know of. Does this make sense?~~

~~I may have a latent precognitive talent, as I have a telepathic/empathic talent that you have access to with me. Maybe you are more capable of sensing these visions. They are rare for me. Miki … How many children will Eric and I have?~~

~~The future is always changing, but it will be many. Redheads and so alike! You will be a busy mother.~~

~~I think that’s enough, Miki. Now I’m really worried.~~

* * * *

We walked back to the hotel, finished dressing and retrieved our baggage. We thanked the staff then called our *tail* for a ride to the airport. I had them drive to Matt’s house as it was not far out of the way, but he was out so I left him a sweet note on a scrap piece of paper I had in my bags and slipped it through the mail slot in his door.

“Joanie, why did we stop?” Leah whispered.

“I met a man I went to school with on the plane to Hawaii. I promised to stop by, if I could. He was a good friend when I was a little boy. Oh well, maybe next time; I hope we can visit your parents in not too many months, if things settle down.”

“You would do that for me? Thank you!” Leah squeaked and squeezed the stuffing out of me, rather pleasurable given her delightfully precocious pulchritude --- i.e. her prematurely abundant charms. That tiny remnant of my male ego was screaming in outrage at the unfairness of it all. The rest of me reveled in her generous spirit.

The police escorted us past security, though we did walk through the scanners and have our bags x-rayed. The MCO officer had enough smarts to butt out of this one. I think the word had been passed to them to *chill it dudes*, likely from on high. My suspicion was either the Governor of Hawaii or that hunk of a Marine Corps officer had called ahead on our behalf. If it wasn’t for Eric I’d be begging to have that Marine assault MY beachhead. ~~I must be relaxing after all the turmoil of this trip; I’m so, ah, okay, I want sex and want it NOW -- happy readers?~~

We were escorted all the way to the network's *charter*, the very latest model Boeing 737 executive jet. It had wide leather seats spaced well apart, every convenience you could want, an attentive staff, and it was all on the network's dime. Oh, sure, it was *old* technology but updated, efficient, reliable and it was free.

“Glad you could make it, Joanie and Leah. Let me help you with your bags.” We were getting the full VIP treatment; Jay was helping carry our bags.

“Thanks, but you don’t need to; the ride is kind in the extreme.”

“Joanie, I have selfish motives. For one, word will be *leaked* how the network provided you a ride back from *storm ravaged* Hawaii.”

“Ravaged? The typhoon missed the Islands by hundreds of miles.”

“TV thrives on hyperbole, but you must admit the storm cut the islands off for a while.”

“True … I sense you’re not telling me all.”

“Nothing untoward, Joanie, I assure you The network hopes, make that requests, your permission to film this and to interview you in flight.”

“That explains the shoulder cameras as we boarded. So long as Leah’s identity is protected, Jay, I see no objections. What do you say, girl? Do you want to talk about your ordeal?”

“Sure, if you can do like Joanie says. I don’t want to put my family at any more risk than they are.”

“You have my solemn promise, Leah,” Jay replied.

We strapped ourselves in after securing Miki’s carrier and soon were on our way.

* * * *

We leveled off and preparations were made to film. Leah was disguised again, she made for a stunning Scandinavian blonde. They even touched up her skin to hide her normal cinnamon tone. After a meal, we were interviewed. Everything on the jet was first class; we had poached trout, much to Miki’s delight. I‘m beginning to think she’s a fish-o-holic.

I was pleased at how mature Leah came off in responding to the questions. She may be thirteen, but she proved she was no child. One response was particularly memorable. He asked her, essentially, if she felt she was at all at fault for causing the confrontation in Hana, Maui. I know he was playing the Devil’s Advocate, but I was ready to leap at his throat until she spoke and I saw his reaction.

“I am the same person I was before I mutated. I even look the same, just a little older and prettier,” she said and giggled self-consciously. “I wished only to live as before, yet my family and I were attacked. The only reason I can think of was my mutation. I, we, committed no crime. I, we, threatened no one, yet we were shot at and threatened by a mob. Why?

“And we were not the only ones put at risk. My brave friend here, Joanie, put herself at risk to get me out. She came to diffuse the danger; she came to help prevent violence, and they shot her. They tried to kill a peacekeeper. Why?

“Because they fear the unknown, I guess, because mutants challenge their view of the world. Some call us monsters, but we’re people, too. If monsters are creatures that hurt people, what does that make the people who attacked us? Mom and Dad taught me it’s okay not to agree with what others think, but you should respect their right to think as they do. I want only to live a normal life. I have no intent to harm anyone or to change their way of life. Why do they hate me? ”

When Jay smiled and gave her a hug, I knew what he had been doing and gave him a hug and kiss he’ll remember for years. He deserved it.

* * * *

We finished the interview and spoke socially. Jay was charming and quite intelligent. We slowly relaxed and spent the last few hours napping. I woke shortly before landing in LA.

~~Miki, you’ve been quiet. Why?~~

~~I sensed you needed rest, and I was thinking.~~

~~Are you missing your *man* already?~~

~~No … yes. We, my kind do not remain together after mating. I wish it was like humans, this ohana, *family*, thing feels right. You understand?~~

~~Miki, family, and the love of another, is like the bond with a familiar. Magic is not involved, but it can be magical. In the best relations, each one anticipates the needs of the other. When my parents were at their best, I swear they finished each other’s sentences. When they were at outs with each other, they knew how to hurt the other with a simple glance. Most of the time they were a happy couple, and that is how I choose to remember them. I intend to have you visit my dad and my sister sometime, my blood family. Knowing them may help you understand me. Family is not always fun or easy, but to be alone is … I couldn’t cope if I was alone.~~

Lonely, I understand. I am not lonely anymore, Friend.~~

* * * *
May 08, 2007, Tuesday

We landed at LA well before dawn and inquired about our flight east. The network’s charters were all busy at the moment, but one would be available in six to eight hours to fly us to Berlin and Whateley. The alternative was a commercial wide body to Boston-Logan. That was departing in just over an hour, and there was the chance of standby seats. The network people booked us on the commercial flight as we wanted to get to Whateley the quickest, but they said to call them on a special number I programmed in my cell if we needed a ride. They even paid for our fight. Leah and I grabbed our bags and Miki’s carrier and hustled to the gate.

We were able to stay in the secured area the whole long way down the terminal — it would *have* to be on the far end from us — so we never had to face the security scanners or the MCO. The attendant at the gate said our chances of a seat looked good and to sit near them so they could call us once they knew for sure.

Thirty-five minutes prior to departure, they began to board. Many of the passengers recognized me and most smiled. Maybe one or two frowned, but that was to be expected. Fifteen minutes prior to departure, we were called along with a few others on standby. It was in coach, but fortunately the seats were near each other. Miki would have seat next to Leah, who was a seat ahead and across an aisle from me. I secured my guitar and our luggage above. I turned to sit down and discovered I was the subject of keen interest by the passengers around me, particularly the men. I was furious for a second then I realized *I* would have stared at me if I was still a guy. I smiled, bowed and sat down sensuously. ~~Good thing I wasn’t wearing that swimsuit, I might have started a riot.~~

A mother in the row ahead of me had a difficult time with her child. He was in the terrible twos I suspected, and everything was “NO!” at full volume and for any reason. He refused to be strapped in, and despite the help of a flight attendant he was still on the loose.

"Ma'am, I’m sorry, but if we cannot secure your child, we must escort you from the plane. It’s dangerous to have anyone or anything unsecured on takeoff or landing. The alternative is we do carry some children’s tranquilizers, if you are willing," said the flight attendant.

“No, I can’t drug my child, it’s against my religion,” the frazzled mother cried out.

“If I may, I might be able to help, flight attendant? I’m a fully deputized law enforcement officer in several states.” ~~Religious objections or not, who would drug a child? That’s sick.~~

“If you think you can. In five minutes the child must be strapped in and reasonably calm, or they are off the plane; I have no alternative, I’m sorry, ladies.”

I unstrapped myself, moved forward and knelt by the child.

“What is your child’s name, Miss?”

“Austin and he’s two years old.”

Austin, no wonder he’s acting up. My grandfather hated that name.~~

“Does he have a favorite song? I sing a little.”

“The Itsy-bitsy Spider.”

“I knew there would be days like this.” ~~Could be worse, could be Barney.~~

“The itsy-bitsy spider went up the water spout,

Down cam the rain and washed the spider out,

Out came the sun and dried up all the rain,

And the itsy bitsy spider went up the spout again.”

I did this complete with the obligatory hand gestures. I must have looked a fool, but the boy laughed and smiled at me. I didn’t care, and thank Ghod it wasn’t YMCA by the Village People. Mind you, that is a catchy tune. I kept singing as we strapped him down, and in a few minutes we had him secured. It was that or time stop him to strap him in and freak the poor child.

I went to sit in my seat, and he started to cry. The flight attendant looked at me like “So what’s next?” I don’t think he wanted to kick them off, not after the bad press several airlines got after similar incidents.

“Leah, take my seat, and I’ll take yours.” We swapped seats. I couldn’t watch her as I wished, but she was near me. More importantly, *Austin the Terrible* was now across the aisle from me where we could see each other, and I could make silly faces for him. Austin shut up, and a relieved flight attendant gave me a deep bow then rushed to his jump seat for taxiing and take off.

We got into the air okay, with my making occasional silly faces and soft silly sounds for the boy to keep him distracted. His mom looked at me as if I was her guardian angel. The huge, flat-panel TVs came on, and we saw the obligatory passenger safety procedures. After explaining the snack and beverage program on the plane, they began to show network TV via a satellite link. The attendants offered ear buds for cheap, which I bought for Leah, myself, and the harried lady.

I set the volume low and was keeping the little terror distracted when I thought I heard something familiar. I think it was coming attractions from the show we were about to see. I vaguely recall the phrase 'special encore presentation', whatever they meant by that. I looked at his mom; she was looking at the screen. She turned and looked at me, her eyes locking on me for a moment, them she looked back at the screen then at me and motioned for me to look up.

~~ That looks like the band shell at Waikiki. Another concert …? Oh Ghod!~~ I saw what concert it was and turned up the volume. I could see in my peripheral vision the mom share her ear buds with her child. The music started and this glorious voice sang out:

‘”Lord almighty,
I feel my temperature rising
Higher higher
It's burning through to my soul

Girl, girl, girl
You gonna set me on fire
My brain is flaming
I dont know which way to go

Your kisses lift me higher
Like the sweet song of a choir
You light my morning sky
With burning love…’

It was me doing that Elvis hit again and ~~That costume made me look … I mean I ... I look like *that* when I perform? The woman in the Playboy shoot was sexy and fun loving but this woman is so much more. Ghod, I’m a star!~~

You’re asking yourself, ‘Why are you reacting like this, Joanie, surely you have seen yourself on TV?’

The answer is a qualified no. I’ve seen the press coverage of the rescues, and I’ve heard my recorded singing, but I could never bring myself to watch much of what I do on stage. I’ll admit I’ve watched myself, but I can’t concentrate on it for long -- I feel odd looking at myself. And the little I have looked at I’ve tried to block out of my mind. Oh, and stop calling me Shirley. Stop your moaning, readers; it’s my story, can’t I have some fun?

At least Austin was happy. He was looking at the TV, listening and giggling quietly, so something good had come of this. When the other performers came on he’d look at me occasionally and smile, even giggle. When I came back on stage he was riveted to the screen.

I was a minor wreck, nerves-wise. I felt compelled to watch myself crash-and—burn, but I didn’t. The girl, I mean that WOMAN, on stage had that audience spellbound. I remembered I felt confident once I started singing, but this woman-child I watched was fearless and sublimely happy. Her voice was liquid sex, and combined with that body and how she moved it, if she wasn’t a woman, no one was. And she was me. It was fascinating to watch the show from a different perspective. The show ended almost too quickly then I sang my last number, Unchained Melody.

I found myself softly singing along, but I must have gotten louder at the end, because the cabin erupted in applause when I stopped and they weren’t looking at me on the screen, they were looking at me in my seat. I unbuckled myself, stood, smiled and bowed, trying not to cry. Austin and his mom looked at me, the boy smiling like it was Christmas morning, and the mom was crying happy tears.

* * * *

The rest of the flight was a blur. I was tired and my emotions had been on a rollercoaster for days now. I remember giving the mom my e-mail address so she could write me, and her boy insisting on giving me a hug and kiss. I remember various passengers and crew thanking me though this one man looked at me with contempt as we deplaned. The HF tie tack was a give-a-way – Humans First.

* * * *

In Boston, I called to arrange transport. It was a little after nine o’clock in the morning, daylight savings time.

“Charlie Lodgeman is busy all day, and I’ll have to see when my sister is available, Joanie. If you could get a flight to Berlin, it would help,” Tina Anderson said from Administration.

“I could have had one if we were willing to wait another five to seven hours in LA. Let me know when your sister, Chris, can leave, I’ll see what I can come up with in the meantime. I know the trains are a possibility, but with the baggage and all, I don’t know.”

I made a few inquiries. A charter would take too long to arrange, and commercial was worthless as there were few flights to anywhere closer. Bus connections sucked. It came down to buying or renting a car, waiting for someone from Whateley, or taking a series of trains to Dunwich. We decided on the train.

Leah helped me study the timetables we’d got from the info booth. We found we had a couple hours long layover between the local light rail/interurban system and the Grand Miskatonic Shuttle, if we left now. There were later light rail trains that would still make the connection. We had the time and hadn’t eaten decently since the network charter flight, so Leah and I went to get something to eat. We took a cab to where the local travel guides said were lots of good places to eat. We ended up at an interesting Italian place, Nicola’s. I had heard of them before. It was very small chain of independently operated restaurants, all owned by relatives of the founder. They had a reputation for simple food, done well, at reasonable prices. Plus they were supposed to have a friendly, homey atmosphere. It had the added advantage of not being fastfood. I’d had enough of that on my trip.

“I’ve heard of this place a few times since moving east, but never had the time to stop in. They are a very small chain, Leah, but frequented by some famous people. I pointed to a wall of photos of ordinary people, local politicians, and major celebrites posing with restaurant staff. A waiter found us a seat and got us a menu. We had ordered our meal and were munching on a basket of fresh Italian bread and butter when a familiar voice spoke up. It was my Nova producer. She walked over to us and spoke.

“Joanie, great to see back you in town. I heard about Hawaii; everyone did, it made the national news. Are you in town for long? We could finish up the NOVA narration with a couple days hard shooting.”

“I have to return to Whateley and get Leah enrolled; I’ve been gone too long, but maybe this weekend? What are you doing here?”

“This is a favorite of mine for lunch; it’s not far from the studios. Come Friday evening, we can work for a bit, put you up in a good hotel and finish up on Saturday and Sunday. Any narration you can complete with the TOH crew during the week will help.”

“Deal.”

* * * *

We were well into our meal, nearly done in fact, when a well dressed man came to our table.

“Allow me to introduce myself; I’m Anthony, and I’m the manager here. Have you enjoyed your meal?”

“It was nice, and I loved your seafood sampler. I’m from Hawaii, and I know good seafood,” Leah said.

“Me too, not that I’m from Hawaii, but it was an excellent meal.”

“You may have noticed our wall of fame in the lobby? We take photos of favorite patrons, honored guests and celebrities, Ms. Brown. I would be honored if you ladies would grace ours.”

“What do you say, Leah?”

“Sure, I don’t mind.”

One of the staff took several pictures of Anthony, Leah and I as a group. She took some with just Leah and I together as well. I suspected she was using a digital camera; a few decades back its predecessor would likely have been a Polaroid. We returned to our seats for a complimentary dessert -- some sinfully rich, chocolate pie. I like chocolate. I don’t usually love it, but this pie beat sex. That’s not a completely fair comparison, as I have yet to savor a bite of Eric, but still....

“Joanie, that pie was …”

“Yeah, want to smoke a cigarette?”

Once we stopped giggling, we got our bill, used the ladies room, and paid. I noticed OUR picture was up, with Leah and I flanking the manager. They must have had a photo quality printer on site.

“Joanie, do you see whose picture we are next to?”

“Is that who I think it is? Good lord, it’s Tim Conway!”

“No, silly,” Leah said and giggles, “That is Alexis Eden with Jennifer Stevens, and you are much prettier than either.”

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

"No, I’m not.”

And so on until we caught a taxi to a Boston commuter rail station. The trip to Whateley was memorable in that nothing memorable happened. After Maui, that was memorable. In a matter of a few hours, we were in Dunwich and picked up by the ever attractive Chris Anderson for the short journey to Whateley. I’d like to say Leah was excited when we arrived late in the morning on campus, but we were both worn out.

* * * *

I concentrated on settling back in after my strange trip out west. I got Leah to Administration, where they filled out her paperwork and assigned her quarters. They would call me when her processing was finished so I could help her. Tina Anderson promised she’d be well cared for. I gave Tina a scorching kiss to make sure of it, and one to Chris for picking us up. I’m a touchy-feely kind of girl, and it was fun.

* * * *

I checked on my smilodons who looked at me like, “Where the hell have you been, stranger?” This aloof indignation lasted for maybe 30 seconds before they pounced on me, viciously rubbing against me and grooming me with their rough, wet tongues. After our reunion, I threw caution to the wind and brought in Miki’s carrier from out in the hallway where I had placed it temporarily.

~~Trust me, Miki.~~

~~I trust you. The tigers, um, smilodons I worry about.~~

“George, Gracie, this is Miki. You met her before, and she’s a friend. She’ll be staying with us, so be good. Down, stay!”

They got down, but kept their eyes on me and my *surprise*. I took Miki out of the carrier and set her next to me on the bed. I could see their muscles tensing.

“George, Gracie, stay!”

I reached into my mini fridge and tossed them each a piece of raw steak. Pinky and I always made sure some was kept there. I gave Miki a piece, too. This is a trick often used to introduce animals to each other or humans as well. Eat together and you are less likely to eat each other. I think with humans you are supposed to cook the steak, but I could be wrong.

~~You’re on, Miki, showtime.~~

~~Joanie?~~

~~Be your cute, sweet self and make some new friends. You can always swat them a good one on the nose, if they get naughty.~~

~~That’s going to stop *them*? … Though I walk through the valley of death, I shall fear no evil — yeah right!~~

~~No backtalking, missy. You’re picking up bad habits from me. Don’t be afraid, I’ll jump in if they do anything. Okay, Miki?~~

Miki approached George and stopped, sniffing the air. George sniffed back, but remained calm. Miki came closer, they sniffed each other then started grooming themselves. George gave Miki a couple friendly licks. I felt so much better. After a few minutes, Miki was expertly grooming their ears and was *definitely* on the smilodons *A* list. The big fur-balls were purring … honest. Miki was happy too.

I heard a knock on my door and was met en-mass by the Sabers. The Sabers were all over Miki and me. Tom and Tina — the ringleaders today — had told them all about my furry sidekick. The twins, on their return, had been eager to speak of their mother and my stow-away. My friends hardly wanted to talk about anything else; well, there was Leah and all the TV coverage.

“George and Gracie like Miki! Aw, that is so cute!” Jenny said in a saccharine tone.

“I think you overdid the *cute,* but I’m very happy they get along.”

“Joanie, why do you keep talking like that, *cute butt*? There are young minds here that your foul language may harm.”

“Jenny!”

The gang was disappointed Leah wasn’t with me.

“She's getting checked in as we speak; you all know what that’s like. If all goes well she’ll be at lunch. At the worst, I’ll make sure she’s at our band practice.”

* * * *
Tina gave me a call on my secure cell/police radio once Leah was settled into her dorm; she had some spare time and took Leah on the abbreviated campus tour, seeing how tired the two of us were. She put Leah on, and we decided on a place and time to meet up. I made a mental note to do something nice for Tina and Chris.

I met Leah at the Crystal Hall for the late lunch; regrettably the rest of the Sabers had class. Cheryl had to work the lunches and couldn’t make it. Leah was sitting alone at my favorite table when I arrived, and I could see she was an immediate hit with the students, or more correctly, was being hit on big-time. She was apprehensive, but after the excitement of her escape from Hana, a few good-looking boys trying to impress her made her smile. She seemed to like the attention; she even blushed at a particularly handsome boy’s compliment.

~~I wonder, did her mutation accelerate her emotional and sexual development in addition to her physical development? The way she reacted to the boy in the hotel swimming pool and the students today was …~~

I sat down next to her, and the kids eased off, though a few die-hards still tried to impress her.

“I see you remembered where I said to sit.”

“It was easy to spot, and Cheryl, the cashier, reminded me when I went through checkout. She introduced herself and smiled at me. She was real sweet and gave my hand a gentle squeeze. Are all the students here so friendly? So many of them were smiling at me and saying hello.”

“Boys or girls?”

“Boys mostly, but some girls were real friendly — Cheryl sure was. I can’t get over how good looking most of them are.”

“Leah, you have to keep in mind you are an attractive, exotic woman.” She interrupted me by giggling.

“I’m okay looking, but I’m not some exotic model or actress.”

“Leah, you need to rethink your self-image. I don’t know what you looked like before your mutation, but take it from me, you are a major babe. I wouldn’t lie. There is enough of the man left in my mind to see you as a hot looking woman, and I do mean woman. People keep telling me I’m an attractive; the Playboy people certainly think that. Leah, you look older than your real age, have lovely Eurasian/Hawaiian features and are new to campus. That makes you *exotic*. Naturally the boys and girls will want to taste the *new flavor*. Most are harmless, but a few are unscrupulous, so be aware and let me or the other Sabers know when you agree to go anywhere with someone. I’m not telling you not to make friends or who to date, but use some common sense. ~~Oh, lovely, Cheryl has the hots for Leah. Then Cheryl has the hots for several guys and me as well.~~

“As to why so many here look great, a large number of mutants are exemplars, and that usually leads to their becoming an idealized version of themselves. You and I are examples of that. Being too much of an exemplar is bad, though. The further you get from the normal human baseline, the greater the chance for problems. That can lead to GSD — Gross Structural Deformity, you’ll learn all about that in class along with powers classification and all sorts of neat stuff. I doubt that will ever happen to either of us. Physically we are very fit but not superhuman. Superhuman or not, you did well on our escape from Hana, you’ll do fine here.

* * * *

I checked with my instructors as to what class assignments I had missed, and with the departments I most frequently substituted for as to my teaching schedule. Security told me to check in with them the next morning.

I formally introduced Leah at the evening practice session.

“Gang, sorry I was gone so long, but something came up.” They laughed. “This is Leah Haleakala, from Hana, Maui, in the State of Hawaii. She’s smart, funny and an expert swimmer and surfer. She is also just turned thirteen so watch it.” Cheryl looked disappointed but not completely discouraged. Tom looked like he was practicing his x-ray vision on Leah, which is odd because he doesn’t have any.

“What powers do you have? Have you been tested?”

“That is Suzy, Leah, she’s a powers mimic and a dear friend as everyone here is.”

“Suzy, um, she’s your second cousin? Mel told me one of the girls was. I see a little resemblance in her,” Leah whispered.

~~Mel and I need to talk but under the circumstance no foul.~~ “Yeah, but never mention it outside the group,” I whispered back.

“Suzy, I’m an exemplar and warper a lot like Joanie. I don’t know if I have any other powers. I can stop time just like her, but I don’t have good control yet”

“That sounds like fun. And it’s okay you know about us,” Suzy said softly and discreetly pointed at herself and me.

I finished introducing her to everyone and asked the big question. “Do you want to try out for the Sabers? There is no shame in failure. Tom here tried and sucked; he still sucks, but he helps us with set up and such so we tolerate him.”

“Okay.”

* * * *

She tuned her ukulele; she’d managed to pack that in her carry-on without crushing it; I was very impressed. She played a few tunes, singing along with her playing. She was self-conscious at first, but warmed to us quickly. Next she got out her harmonica and played that.

“What do you think?” Leah asked when she stopped.

“The uke was lively, and the tone was good. Am I right that since it’s a four string, Leah could be taught to play banjo, bass guitar or even violin fairly quickly?” Pinky observed.

“Violin would take some time because it’s a fretless instrument, but banjo and bass should be a cinch and I know my string instruments. Very good, Leah,” said Jenny. “If you like, I can teach you banjo and violin, if you teach me the uke.” The rest all said similar things. Tom spoke last.

“I thought Leah was great. Leah you play well, and I think you have a sexy singing voice.” Leah giggled. “But best of all you’re a class A babe, and among the Sabers that says a lot. You’re hot, hot, hot! I could give you the in-depth campus tour, take you to all the best places for …”

At this point, I punched Tom in the upper arm, hard.

“Ow! Why did you hit me?”

“Because if I hadn’t, Suzy would have kicked you in the groin, Tom. Flirting with a girl in your girlfriend’s presence is tacky, very tacky.”

“Joanie, I am shocked. And, Joanie, I would have slapped him in the face. I have plans for what’s down, you know. Why would I want to harm that? Joanie, roll your tongue back into your mouth.”

“Then you haven’t, um …”

“No, *Mom*, at least not all-the-way.”

-- Thud --

“Joanie, cut that out. I know you’re faking that faint.”

“No, I’m not!” And to prove it I stuck out my tongue. I am so mature.

“I was jerking your chain, Cuz. All we’ve done is hug and kiss. We do it a lot, but that’s all and I mean it. I want to be sure before we … go further, and Tom agrees, believe-it-or-not.”

“You’ve all heard Leah. Is she in the band, an auxiliary like Tom, or just a friend like Mystor?”

She was voted in unanimously, and we both had ... we all had a good cry. I think Leah and I set the others off. Tom is no dummy. It may not be *manly* to cry, but his quiet tears scored brownie points with the gals. Something about “Being a sensitive person and not a macho jerk,” I think that’s what Cheryl said. The end result was Tom received kisses from all the girls WITH Suzy’s permission. I kissed him too.

“Tom, that was impressive conning that many girls into kissing you, and if you do it again, you’re dead,” I whispered in his ear, then giggled.

“Ms. Silly is back, and she’s BAD!” I slept great that night. I dreamt I was kissing Eric and we … I wonder why?

* * * *

May 09, 2007, Wednesday

I needed to get back into my routine. The unexpected trip to Hawaii had thrown my ordered life into chaos. You believe me don’t you? So what if it’s was more accurate to say it threw my crazy life into the Twilight Zone, but you understand. I needed to get back on track, however warped and twisted it was. After our group morning run and breakfast, I resumed my part-time teaching and checked in with Security. Both the students and Security bombarded me with questions about my trip. I answered what I could, but some details had to be kept vague as there were pending criminal cases.

That morning I learned I would be soon be training with, and formally inducted into, the New Hampshire National Guard. Whateley had a cooperative agreement with the State Guard and Reserves much as MSG did back in Wisconsin. They provided training facilities and support, and we provided much needed expertise in handling mutant supers. My induction and abbreviated *basic* training was scheduled to begin in a week.

I figured it wouldn’t be all that different from in Wisconsin, and the odds of our ever being called to active duty were minimal; what would the military want with us anyway? Okay, we are the experts when it comes to mutants, but look at me, what can I do other than jiggle my boobies to distract the baddies, though there is the time stop and time travel. Then there is the transformational magic if Miki and I can ever figure out how we did…. They really could use me, yikes!

* * * *

The day was crazy busy, what with making up missed classes in the morning, teaching one period of intro mutant history and pulling a half shift with Security in the afternoon. That latter part was painful, as they helped me analyze what I’d done right and wrong in rescuing Leah. I think I got a B over all. I would have gotten an A- because so few got hurt, but lost points on misjudging the shooter. The magical transformations Miki and I did they didn’t know how to rate.

“The word will get out that someone did magic, major magic, to facilitate your escape. Eventually you or Leah will be targeted,” one officer worried.

“I think the cover story the Marines spread may work.”

“Cover story, Chief Delarose?” I asked.

“I spoke with the officer in charge of the rescue. They, Melons One that is, are spreading the story that an elite covert operations unit trained in magic was part of the operation. It has the semblance of truth behind it, you were brought in as an expert on mutants, time manipulating warpers in particular. With Miki, you technically were a unit. A group of skilled military wizards is more believable than the truth, that a total novice and her mongoose transformed a half-dozen grown men into true hemaphrodites AND convinced a whole town to take what amounted to a child’s *timeout*. Who would believe that?”

“I feel better, I think, Chief.”

“Oh, I was told to pass on that, when the Marines were told they were designated Melons One to your Blonde One and Pineapple One, the consensus was, “We are WHAT!?” That is the censored version; the unedited responses were *colorful*, or so I’ve been told. I understand that, after they learned you’d been shot and how you handled it all, they are having an embroidered patch made they will be permitted to wear on their dress uniforms proudly proclaiming them as veterans of Melons One. They, the Marines, passed on through their commander, a request that you autograph the copies of Playboy they would be mailing to you once published.”

~~I bet that wasn’t their only request, they are healthy, fit, young and … Could have been fun … I need a looong run and a very cold shower.~~

* * * *

That evening after practice, I hustled to the farm to check on progress. Miki accompanied me at her insistence. That small section of woods beyond my farm continued to worry her.

~~That place beyond your land is a focus for dark powers. I must not let you near it without my protection. I know not what it is, but it is tied to an ancient evil, and it is getting stronger. The evil and the source of its growing power remain distant, but I fear it will come.~~

~~Are the people at the farm at risk?~~

~~Not directly from the evil; your farm is at worst neutral ground. Parts are now a sanctuary or will soon be; I am working to make it so. With your magic and my skill, the entire farm will be repellent to demons and evils. The wards at Whateley are powerful, but our wards will be formidable given time. I will not let Kushalla’s fate happen to you and yours. You will be safe from magical attack. That does not mean you will be safe from man. The wards will warn me of trespass but may not keep out a determined animal or person. That is how I failed Kushalla.~~

~~That is why I consulted Whateley security for ideas on how to protect the farm. We will work together to keep all our loved ones save.~~

* * * *

I caught up with the camera crew, while Miki patrolled the farm doing whatever she does in warding things. The sun was setting minutes before 8 o’clock in the evening — it was late spring after -- so the camera crew used the extra hours to plan the next day's shooting, get close ups of the latest work and so on. The construction workers were gone by then except for my ever diligent cleanup crew. A pair of off-duty Whateley Security officer patrolled the grounds -- on my tab, of course. ~~They made so much progress while I was gone, they all deserve a bonus.~~

“Hi, Joanie, great to see you back! You missed the foundations being finished.” They showed me pictures of Fran *flowing* the local stone into place on the new farm house and the barn conversion. Fran’s face was suitably unidentifiable on camera for her protection. The entire barn was supported on great timbers, which in turn were boosted by hydraulic building jacks. It was low tech, but reliable and efficient. Fran had repaired the farmhouse foundation with her gift, and dug and shaped the entire barn house foundation. The excess rock was in a storage pile to become walkways, drives, a pond, swimming pools, and so on as further construction made possible.

We agreed to do some TOH and NOVA narration filming for a couple hours Thursday morning and night. It was too late for anything today.

* * * *
I was settling in on my second night home when my cell rang. I smiled when I saw the caller ID.

“Sis, great to hear from you. How are are you ….”

“Have you gone nuts? I thought I knew you, but your mutation and fame have gone to your head. How dare you snub Milwaukee like that! What kind of stuck up bitch are you, sis?"

"Whoa! Slow down! What did I do, Sis? I admit I like the limelight, but I would never be deliberately rude."

"Joan, they had a press conference to announce last minute changes in the headline acts at Summerfest; it's their 40th anniversary. The press noted your name was not on the list. Someone asked why the hottest new singer in America was not on the bill, particularly when she is from the area. The entertainment director hemmed and hawed a bit, then all but stated you turned them down flat. He intimated you thought Milwaukee was not worthy of your talent. He didn't say it that way, but it was the message I got."

"Sis, no one ever asked me to perform at Summerfest., My producer never said a thing about Summerfest to me. I'll ask him; let me call him and I put you on a three way with him...."
* * * *

“Warner Records, how may I help you?”

“This is Joanie, can you get Mr. Karaoke on the line? It’s very important, please?”

“You sound upset, Joanie. Are you alright?” I dealt with his receptionist before, so she knew my voice well.

“I’m fine but something has upset my sister, and when she’s upset, *I’m* upset. I need my producer’s help with this, please.”

“I’ll put you through. By-the-way, Joanie dear, he has a name.”

“Yeah but it’s more fun this way.”

* * * *

"Joanie, a pleasure as always. The recording from your performance in Hawaii is making the network and us a bundle. What a night you had! So what can I do for you?"

“Excuse me, recording? You released another recording?”

“You weren’t informed? The Waikiki show was so well received that the network, the other performers and their labels all agreed to release the music jointly. I approved in your stead, and here we are. The first shipments hit the record shops two days ago and already we are sold out. We are also offering this as a download — for a reasonable fee — and the servers can barely keep up. At this rate it will go multi-platinum — physically -- before the end of the month. In downloads, we are way past that already. Is this what you and your sister are upset about?”

“No, I trust your judgment in this area. It’s the recent Summerfest announcement of their headliner acts. The news has her upset; she is on the line and is pissed at me. Please answer her questions with absolute honestly."

“The entertainment director for Summerfest says Joanie turned them down and insulted her old home town. My sister says she was never asked to appear; this year is the 40th anniversary of Summerfest in Milwaukee.”

"Ma’am, we were never contacted about Joanie. Oh, Summerfest asked for a list of any of our contract artists who were planning to or might tour. I specifically suggested they book Joanie, saying only that she had security concerns because of the kidnapping, but we could work that out. I even admitted she'd likely waive the huge fee an artist like her usually receives in exchange for a modest contribution to a reputable charity. I also told them I thought she was the nicest person of any of our artists. God's honest truth, I would never lie to Joanie's sister."

“Sis, forgive me for yelling at you like that. I should have known better.”

“If I’d heard that press conference, I’d be angry at me. So what do WE do about this?”

“WE, Joanie?” Mr. Karaoke exclaimed.

“Well, my sister’s role needs to be discreet, but I did mean WE.”

“I can start spinning the usual damage control. Warner’s could issue a press release refuting the Summerfest entertainment director’s story.”

“That’s not bad, but I want this jerk to hurt. I mean, calling me a stuck up bitch — well not in those terms — and not mentioning my looks at all? I am so upset, fer sure!”

“That’s my broth … sister alright, silly like a loon. What else have you got in mind, oh devious one?”

“Can you get me the phone numbers for the news departments for the four biggest Milwaukee TV stations and a half dozen radio stations? I have a pot to stir.”

“Joanie, do me a favor and take it easy on the Val talk; your mind could get stuck like that.”

“Sis!”

* * * *

My sister tore through the phonebook with her usual efficiency; she is a branch supervisor at the bank. Mr. Karaoke and I broke up the list and called. A few stations were rude, but most I called recognized my voice and agreed to interview me via a web video link. I figured the stations that didn’t believe me could try calling Warner’s later after I'd interviewed with their competitors, and I *might* consent to a phone interview. He had better luck, but then this was his business -- developing and promoting talent.

We launched a coordinated, multi-pronged assault on the entertainment director. ~~I feel like General Patton.~~ Warner’s went first and announced they had offered my services to the festival, at a bargain price to boot, and hadn’t received a nibble despite Summerfest’s strong interest in a number of their other artists. Summerfest argued I had raised unreasonable demands. Warner’s countered with, “What demands? We said she had security concerns but that they could be worked out. They never asked us what her worries were. I can assure you her fears are justified and the necessary accommodation would be trivial. ” Mr. Karaoke played his part magnificently.

I told the interviewers a consistent and honest story. It was the truth, which helps, believe me. I suck at lying.

“I was shocked to hear Summerfest hadn’t made any effort to contact me. I was, until recently, a lifelong resident of Milwaukee County and would love to perform in front of a hometown crowd. I have family in the metro area, and this would be a golden opportunity to visit them. I am concerned about security because I was kidnapped in Madison last year, and I fear for my fans if another attempt is made. Given the excellent on-grounds security and camera system at Sumerfest only a modest change from their procedures should be needed.

“My sister read me the riot act when she heard I wasn’t coming. Believe me, you do not want to anger a natural blonde; they’re dangerous,” I said then broke into giggles. ”Sis is going to get me for that one. I’m sorry they dropped the ball; I would love to come.”

I poured on my natural charm and had the press in my hands, except for a few whackos who objected to a “mutant” corrupting the youth of Milwaukee. They, of course, chose not to interview me lest their world view be shattered. My *corrupting* Milwaukee’s youth was total nonsense, as the only youth I wanted to *corrupt* was Eric, and we had a deal about when that would happen — after he turned eighteen and not a moment sooner. ~~And not a second later either. Your eighteenth birthday will be memorable for both of us, or else, Hon.~~

Summerfest then argued I had a previous commitment and was not available. They were half-right. My schedule did conflict, but the festival -- which runs from a Thursday though to the second Sunday -- wasn’t starting until June 28th. I was scheduled to be back on Sunday, July 1st and we let the press know that I was hardly *unavailable.*

Then they brought out their trump card. “If we’d only known she was available we would have loved to have her here, but now that all the stages are filled it wouldn’t be fair to hire her at the expense of someone else. Perhaps she might be interested in performing next year?”

I felt so much better after that heartfelt expression of admiration. I’m being sarcastic you know.

We countered one last time with an argument he couldn’t refute. “I’d have no problems performing with another act, or several for that matter. I don’t *have* to be a headliner. It would be a joy just to perform for the home crowd. I’ll gladly perform for union scale and donate that back to the local American Red Cross.” ~~Slam dunk for Joanie, I think.~~

They stuck by their guns, saying it was too late to reprint all the festival schedules, and they were sorry. The press kept up the heat, but a new story stole the local headlines.

“We gave it a good try, Joanie. I can see about getting you a gig at one of the other big summer festivals, or maybe a State Fair?”

“I’d like to, but I wanted this for my sister. My summer is pretty busy, so I guess I’ll take a pass unless you really need me. I owe you for trying.”

* * * *

May 10, 2007, Thursday

By Thursday, I was back in the groove, more or less. Leah joined in with the gang for the morning runs; she would have preferred to surf but …

“Joanie, I need a big favor, not that you haven’t done a lot for me already,” she said as we ran around the campus with Tom and Suzy in the lead.

I got the impression Leah worried Suzy, what with her exotic and surprisingly mature looks. I doubted Leah would do anything to hurt my friends after all we’d shared in Hawaii, but the siren call of her budding sexuality was hitting her hard. Most kids have months, even years, to adjust to their changing bodies and minds. Leah was having to do it virtually overnight. She understood logically, but I was worried she’d fall easy prey to the first person to get her in a *clinch*.

“Yes, Leah, what do you want?”

“I understand the big campus swimming pool has a wave machine. Would it be possible to surf in it?”

“Possibly, why do … oh you want to try it.”

“Yes, but it’s hard to get any time in the pool, so many others use it. But you are on staff here, and I was wondering …”

“Okay, I’ll ask. You’ll need a wet suit; the pool is cold, plus a wet or a dry suit would be great for windsurfing. We may not be right on the ocean here, but there are a lot of lakes and rivers, a windy day and you're set; you don’t need waves.”

“Thanks, that’s a great idea. I’ve done some windsurfing, and it’s fun. I’ll see if Dad can send me one.”

“Or you can order through a catalog or online. Find what you need, and I’ll pay for it; you pay me back someday with lessons, all right?”

I got a shriek of joy and an equally enthusiastic hug from Leah for my troubles.

~~Maybe it will keep her mind preoccupied long enough she can get control over her self.~~

* * * *

I kept reminding myself I needed to finish my narration duties for NOVA. Meeting with my producer in Boston was an unwelcome reminder of my delays. It was embarrassing how behind we were from where I had hoped to be. I met with the TOH crew at my farm early that morning, and we talked with the NOVA director and producer back in Boston via a video link

“Joanie, it’s not that bad. As I said when we met in Nicola’s, if you can come Friday night we can finish this weekend. We were ahead of schedule; your first sessions went that well.”

“But I thought we didn’t do all that much?”

“Some of your so-called tests were so good we’ve decided to use them in the program. If you are willing to put in some long hours, as I said the other day, we can finish this week. The TOH camera crew is willing to work until eleven tonight to help you, and if you could come this weekend to the studios we should be done. Don’t feel like you promised something then didn’t deliver. Hawaii was unexpected, and performing on the live special was justified. You needed to unwind after the horrors of the girl’s rescue, and it was an excellent opportunity to counter the vicious rumors the anti-mutant types were spreading. Oh, do us a favor and bring your menagerie; our nature producer is driving us crazy.”

“Bring my menagerie?”

“The *cats* and your mongoose. The film crew saw and filmed your *cats* while you were out of town. Ms. Conners brought them to your farm. Those *cats* are impossible; they cannot logically exist. To put it bluntly: Where the hell did you get live smilodons? The TOH producer showed the video to an expert on extinct and modern felines, and he freaked. Our expert consultant for a NOVA on the Ice-age wanted to know how we faked sabertooths. I promise we will keep your name out of it, but we must see them. As to the mongoose, we are in the early stages on a special on magic, the myth and reality. What happened on Maui was remarkable. Our sources say a battle-hardened unit of military mages -- a mongoose and her sorceress novitiate -- was behind those amazing transformations. Don’t worry, it is not public knowledge. My brother is a Marine Corps colonel stationed in Hawaii; you met one of his Majors, I believe.”

My eyes went wide, and I mouthed, “Melons One?”

She nodded and continued, “If you are willing, we’d like to use your Miki in a segment on familiars; no one need know she is yours. You must admit she’s unique; a black cat she is not.”

“I’ll do that, but I’ll need to be convinced about my anonymity if you do use them on camera. I don’t want my animals put at risk, right Miki?” She materialized out of nowhere. It still gives me the willies. The camera crew broke up laughing.

“You have *got* to bring her. That was amazing.”

“And she works for food.” I giggled shamelessly.

~~Joanie, were you telling a joke again?~~

~~I’m afraid so, Miki. That was a nice entrance, dear, very theatrical. You impressed the television people.~~

* * * *

Tom and Tina’s classes were such today that we had lunch together. This was the first time since I’d gotten back from Hawaii the three of us were alone.

“I have to know, how’s your mom?”

“She’s slowly getting better. The doctors decided the best treatment was to do all the conventional medicine first: fix her bones, cure her infections, that sort of stuff. They are giving her lots of counseling to help her handle her grief, and physical therapy to keep her joints and muscles from deteriorating. After she is healthy, she will receive her magic makeover,” said Tom.

“Mom and we agreed, as much fun as it would be for her to be my identical twin sister and thus make us triplets, it wasn’t practical. She needs to earn a living and to be an adult. She’s seriously considering being transformed into a college age woman. She’s torn between becoming a younger version of herself or someone new. Mom has a little Native American blood in her ancestry and possibly even some African American way back. The thaumatologists say it’s easier and more predictable to change someone based on their ancestry. They would adjust the mix, so to speak. I’m hoping for a kind of Selma Hayek/Raquel Welsh/ Holly Barry/Hillary Duff blend. Mom would be hot,” Tina said.

“You want your mom to be hot?” I asked.

“Yeah, she deserves to find another good man like Dad; why not go for the very best? They might transform us to look like what we would have been if this version of Mom had married Dad so that no one could question that she was our mom. They’d probably have to make us younger too, though, and I like being a teenager. They might still do it, but Mom would now be Mom’s much younger cousin; that way Tom and I could stay as we are or as teens at least. She could always get carefully faked papers naming her our guardians, like she was the best college pal of mom and dad or something.”

I couldn’t argue with that.

* * * *

May 11-12, 2007, Friday and Saturday

* * * *
I made my call to Eric and Babs earlier than usual. Notice I said Eric and Babs, well … and Mel too, usually. I’m making a point of talking to Babs every time I can to help keep up her spirits. Both Eric and Mel, my friends and spies, say she’s doing well, but I don’t want her to become anxious again. Her talk of dying scared me.

With Pinky’s help, I loaded the cats into their carrier/kennel in the truck bed after some empathic soothing and a nice treat. We tossed our weekend bags in the back of the crew cab, lashed down Miki’s carrier to the rear seat, and we were off. We raided my mini fridge and the Crystal Hall on the way out and had the built-in electric cooler in the console filled with cold soda, ice tea, sandwiches and perishable pet food.

The smilodons were used to moistened dry lion cub food; they even liked the dry food plain, as well as the occasional piece of raw steak or fish. They were inordinately fond of trout since their escape that one day late in April. Someday, maybe, I’ll write about it. From the havoc they wrought, I think I know where they traveled on their adventure. For now, they benefited from a little formula in their diet. In the wild they would only now be weaning. I had been forced to start weaning them early; fortunately they adapted well. Their mother must have been exceptionally good at caring for them. I promised her then I’d care for them; I intend to keep that promise.

We made good time on the trip into Boston Friday night and were let into the secure parking. I lugged Miki’s carrier, while Pinky walked the kitties. We were led to the studios immediately.

“’Evening, Joanie, and this must be Ms. Conners, I remember you from the video with the cats. Oh, they are darling, may I?” My producer knelt down and let them smell her. I was concerned this trip and the unfamiliar surroundings would scare them, but their native curiosity won out, and they checked her carefully. Miki was happily wrapped around my neck playing fur collar commando again. I couldn’t see her when I looked, but I could feel her weight and heat. In a pinch she could hide her warmth, but not for long. Pinky met with the expert on Pleistocene animals; the woman was practically drooling upon meeting my smilodons. Miki came with me, but promised to keep *tabs* on the smildons and Pinky to ease my mind. Once in the studio, Miki stayed on or in her carrier, but always where she could watch over me.

I did several hours of taping and prep work for the Saturday marathon.

“Joanie, if we push hard tomorrow, we might finish early on Sunday..”

“That would be great. You have rooms for us you said?”

“We have you booked in one of Boston’s best hotels, and we have made provisions for you to keep your animals safe with you. The parking structure is well ventilated and secure. You may leave your smildons in your truck kennel overnight without fear of anyone harming them, or you may take them to your room. They made an exception for you, so long as the animals are never off leash in public, for everyone’s safety.”

"That would be nice. There aren’t any couches in the rooms or leather furniture?”

“No, a pair of queen sized beds, a few stuffed chairs and a table. Why do you ask?”

“You don’t want to know.”

Around ten we quit. We were escorted to the hotel where we went up to our rooms — a suite in fact. We ate in the hotel dining room, then got the animals in from the truck. We transferred the perishable animal food from the truck to the mini fridge in our suite. Miki had kept George and Gracie company, and somehow warded the truck in our absence. The little schemer had squirreled away a supply of suitable pebbles for ward markers somewhere in the truck bed. Oh, I still have those colorful stones she gave me as an offering way back. Something tells me they are special, so they are always in my purse.

We got to our room and all of us soon were asleep.

* * * *

I woke at 6 o’clock the next morning, with George lying across my ankles and Gracie curled up behind my head. Miki was lying to the side of my legs, a paw resting on George.

~~That proves they like each other. As to Pinky laying spooned to my backside …~~

“Um, Pinky, I do like you, and snuggling is nice, but we have two queen beds.”

“I got restless during the night and figured your furry friends would share.”

P.S. My dear readers, about those colorful stones; Miki warded our hotel suite during night, but my purse was a mess come morning.

* * * *
To be continued.
Jennifer Stevens is the creation of Bob Arnold and Alexis Eden is the creation of Julie_O. I wish my characters were half as memorable as theirs.