After talking her way out of trouble with X-ray Hobbes, Patricia and Gretchen start the weekend as regular girlfriends but the relationship deepens. Jessica has a traumatic epiphany. Hobbes implements Patricia's plan. Listed Themes and Elements apply to entire story, Rating to this submission. Thanks to Marina Kelly and Robyn Hoode for editorial assistance.

CHAPTER FORTY THREE

I’ve never seen so many people before, at least not in person. So many of them are kids our age. Girls and boys.

Lots of boys.

Lots and lots of boys.

Patty and her mother walk a few steps ahead of me while I look around. I’ve never been to a mall before, not that I can remember. So many stores, so many mannequins in the front windows wearing stylish clothes. The stuff in my closet doesn’t look anything like what they’re wearing.

But they do look like what Patty’s wearing.

I’ve never seen her dress like this before. She’s actually wearing black leather boots. With high heels! At least four inches! The top of her head practically touches my chin. And the way she walks in them, hips swinging, bottom … moving. It’s all so different.

She’s got on this light blue dress. It’s wool knit, very soft, the hem flounces as she walks. It’s only like fifteen or sixteen inches from her waist. And the neckline. It buttons right at the top but it opens up in a circle, showing … well a lot more than she’d get away with at school.

Way lots more. Like give Sister Carmela a heart attack more.

She looks great!

I’m just wearing jeans, my basketball shoes and a T-shirt. Plus a jacket, this place is kinda chilly. A lot of the kids are dressed like me, though it’s more of the boys. The girls are dressed more like Patty. I didn’t pack any of my nicer clothes, the whole thing happened very sudden like. Next time, it’ll be different. Still, even my nice stuff seems to be out of style.

Patty and her mother stop walking and I almost run into them. They’ve stopped in front of a store called “Soffia’s”. Looking through the lightly shaded windows, it seems to have a lot of teen age girls as customers.

“We can start here” said Patty. “It’s a good place to get ideas about prices and styles. I’d never actually buy anything here, way too pricey, but it’s a good reference point. Mom can meet us back here in … say twenty minutes?”

“NO! I want her to come with us … if that’s okay, Mrs. Conner?”

“Are you sure, Gretchen? Patty hasn’t let me help her buy clothes … lately.”

“It’s not like I don’t want your help, you’re just always so busy and when I’ve got time you aren’t …”

“What about Wednesday three weeks ago. I had my purse in my hand, ready to go and you said not to bother, you’d handle it.”

“The half-price color at Goodwill was red that week and there were a couple of dresses I had my eyes on for two weeks. It was a quick trip, no bigee.”

“As you can see, Gretchen, my daughter is ashamed to be seen with me. I’d be happy to help you.”

“MOTHER!”

Mrs. Conner wraps her right arm around my left and leads me into the store with Patty following, but at a distance. Mrs. Conner points to a rack of black leather coats with a lot of silver metal studs, chains and badges.

“Now, there’s a good example, Gretchen. Something like that jacket may be currently in style but it’s so ostentatious that when it goes out of style in six months, at most, you won’t be able to wear it if you want to be stylish. You need to find classics that you can accessorize with a few more stylish, less expensive items. It’s much less expensive to buy a new scarf than a new dress.”

“Callista Thomas has that exact same jacket!”

“And I’ll bet she won’t be wearing it after April of next year. A complete waste of money. Now, over here, these are your basic dresses. I wouldn’t look at those with bias cut hems, much too eccentric.”

Patty joins us. “Mom, don’t say that. Gretchen has the perfect build for that hemline. It was made for her. You’d look great too. I’m the one who couldn’t wear that. That red one, over there, Gretch would absolutely KILL in that!”

Patty’s pointing to a faceless mannequin standing on an elevated platform attached to a pillar by the changing room. It’s wearing a gorgeous bright red dress, the hem cut on a slant. It’s a full skirt with the top having a mid V neck and three-quarter sleeves. The mannequin has matching red pumps with I guess three inch heels. I’ve never worn heels, at least not since I was three years old and used to play in my mother’s shoes.

That probably doesn’t count.

“It’s very attractive, Patricia, but not very practical.”

“I think her dad can afford it.”

That seems to upset her. “It’s not about affording it, it’s about being a smart shopper … and I would think that the less of that money there is to spend, the better!” She storms out of the store. I look at Patty.

“Don’t worry, she’ll calm down in a little while.”

“I think we should find her, she seemed upset.”

Patty takes a dress off the rack and holds it up against herself. “Suit yourself.”

I hurry out of the store and look around. I can’t see her anywhere, but she’s tall, like me, so I should be able to find her.

Walking up this side of the Mall, I head for the Center Court area. I can see a big indoor fountain. Moving with the crowd, I can’t see her. If she stepped into one of these stores, I’ll never find her. My best chance is if she sat down somewhere to cool off. When I reach the Center Court, I stop and look around. There’s a lot of benches near the fountain. Several shoppers surrounded by bags are taking a break. Eventually, I spot her, sitting, head turned toward the water. I slowly approach, not sure of what I’m going to say.

“Mrs. Conner?” She turns her head, looking at me. “I’m sorry if anything I did upset you. You’ve been super nice to me and all and I’m really, really sorry if I’ve made you mad or anything.”

She pats the bench next to her. “Sit down, Gretchen.” I slowly sit where she patted. She folds her hands in her lap. “It’s not anything you’ve done or said. You’ve been a perfect guest. It’s just …” She shakes her head.

“It’s my father, isn’t it?”

“Yes … yes, it is.”

“I saw how you acted around him at the paintball place. Why do you hate him? I know why I hate him but why do you?”

“Gretchen! Don’t say that! A child should never hate their parent. Not without good cause.”

“Don’t I have good cause?”

“I don’t know, I really don’t. I’m afraid that I just can’t accept what he does for a living. Patricia seems to be able to separate the man from the business, but I can’t. To be honest, when I heard the news on the radio Friday about the record drug busts, I was ecstatic.”

“I was pretty happy too. I thought, maybe now, this all can stop, maybe we can live like normal people, like you and Patty.”

She chuckles at that. “Oh Patricia and I are far from normal. I don’t think you want to use us as your baseline.”

“You guys are the most normal people I know.”

“Maybe you need to expand your circle of friends.”

“I’d like to.”

She reaches out, taking my hands in hers. “I’m sorry about blowing up in the store. It’s not your fault. You’re a perfectly wonderful girl. It’s my problem and I’ll deal with it. What do you say we go back, find Patricia and have an enjoyable afternoon?”

“Sounds good to me, Mrs. Conner.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

It’s about time!

I really need them to bond if Mom’s going to help me pull this off.

I followed Gretchen when she left the store, hanging back far enough so that she wouldn’t see me. One of the advantages of my current height.

I couldn’t hear what they said to one another but it looks like Mom’s warming up to her.

One step at a time.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

When we get back to “Soffia’s”, Patricia is still looking through the rack of dresses where we left her.

“We really should see how Gretchen looks in that featured dress, Mom.”

“If she wants to. Do you, Gretchen?”

“If you don’t mind. I’ve never had anything like that before.”

Patricia picks up a dress that she had set aside. “Here ya go, Gretch.”

“Thanks. I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t hurry, dear. Patricia and I’ll be right here.”
As soon as Gretchen closes the door to the changing room, I turn to Patricia.

“What was that all about?”

“What was what all about?”

“Sending Gretchen after me.”

“I didn’t send anyone after you. Gretchen did that on her own. She thought we should go after you. I told her that you’d eventually calm down and come back on your own. And here you are.”

“No thanks to you.”

“Look, there’s no reason to get into a fight now. Save it for home after she’s gone. Besides, we got bigger problems to deal with.”

“What problems?”

“Ssshhh. She’s coming.”

I look back towards the changing room. Gretchen’s coming out the door.

“How … how do I … look?” she asks, clearly unsure of the answer. She shouldn’t be.

“Stunning, my dear. Absolutely stunning! That dress fits you like a glove, like it was made for you.”

“What do you think, Patty?”

Patricia walks around her, lightly tugging at the dress at various places, checking the fit.

“If it was me, I’d let the top out just a squosh. Other than that, it’s fine.”

“Only fine?”

“Oh, I thought you were asking about the fit. You look spectacular, except for the shoes, of course. I said you would, didn’t I? It’s better than I imagined.”

“Really?”

“No doubt about it.”

Gretchen smiles at our praise. She really is an extraordinarily lovely girl, not at all what I expected, though I’m not sure what I actually did expect. A woman who looks like a sales clerk approaches us.

“Oh my heavens! I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone looks so nice in that particular style. It is just perfect for you.”

“Thank you” Gretchen said, shyly.

“Well, it’s not exactly perfect” added Patricia. “See right there, in the bust, it’s stretched too tight, causing this gap in the back. Turn around Gretchen.” She did. “See, right there.”

“It’s barely perceptible” replied the clerk. “With the right bra, it wouldn’t be there.”

“Yes, but she’s wearing flats. This dress screams for heels, which will only make it worse; ass back, chest forward.”

“I see what you mean.”

“We shouldn’t pay this much for a dress she’ll end up fighting all night.”

“The alterations needed are fairly minor; we could have them done within the week.” The clerk is looking at me. I raise my hands.

“I’m just the mother here. You know how much control I have. It’s up to them.”

Gretchen bends her knees, dropping down to look Patricia in the eyes.

“Patty, couldn’t you fix it? I look so nice, you said it yourself. I don’t have anything like it. Couldn’t you?” she pleads.

“Gretchen, it’s early. We haven’t looked in any of the other shops yet. We’ll leave it as a maybe, see what else we can find, okay?”

“If you say so.”

Gretchen’s clearly not happy. Neither is the clerk.

“There’s no guarantee we’ll have that in stock much longer.”

“Paaatteee!” Gretchen whines. Patricia waves her off.

“It’s a big mall. Lots of stores. Miami’s a major city. If we decide that this is the only choice and you can’t find it anywhere, I’ll make one for you. Go on.”

Gretchen returns to the dressing room as the clerk looks at Patricia with disdain.

“You’ll make a dress like that?”

“I made this” Patricia answered. “Wool knit’s a lot harder to work with. Besides, with her figure, practically anything that fits looks fabulous. She’s better looking in jeans and a T-shirt than practically anybody else in this store, me included. You’ll see.”

We all waited until Gretchen returned, dress in hand. The clerk gave her a thorough looking over then sighed.

“You’re right, she is. Keep us in mind. The sale runs through the weekend.”

“We will” I tell her. “Thanks for your help.”

“Not at all, that’s what we’re here for.”

After we left the store, Gretchen was still disappointed.

“I don’t understand why I couldn’t get that dress” she groused.

Patricia laughed. “Because you didn’t have any money, idiot. I was just getting us out of there.”

Her eyes grow wide. “Oh my God. I forgot completely about that! I’m not used to dealing with things like money.”

“Tell you what” I say. “I’ll pay up to one hundred dollars, my treat, for whatever you want to buy today.”

“Mrs. Conner! That’s so nice of you!”

“Yeah, Mom, it is. What’s the catch?”

“No catch. I’m curious to see what you two can do with a hundred bucks.”

“My father will pay you back as soon as …”

“No. He won’t. This is my treat. My money, not his.” I said that more forcefully than I should have.

Patricia gently pats my arm. “Your treat, Mom. We got it. Thanks a lot.” She’s smiling at me, knowingly, with that bright beautiful smile of hers.

“You’re welcome. Now, you two better hurry. We don’t have all day. We’ll need at least two hours for basketball. I’ll follow along.”

With a pair of waves, they dash off, laughing. I know that Gretchen is a truly beautiful girl … but there’s just something about Patricia, once you get to really know her.

It’s probably a mother’s prejudice.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

They did better than I thought they would. Patricia has gotten very good looking for bargains. She managed to find a very nice blouse and skirt combo, shoes and a purse, plus some underwear. Gretchen’s decked out in her new clothes, the old stuff is in the bags.

We’re having a late lunch in the food court, Daniel Lipscomb’s treat because I’m expensing this meal. No one is eating anything extravagant. Gretchen and Patricia are splitting a large sausage and pepperoni pizza, I’m having a cheese calzone. The girls are telling me all about their bargain hunting.

“I was getting ready to buy this one pair when Patty found almost the exact same shoe in the half price display except they didn’t have the little bow. Well, I didn’t care about the bow and it saved us twenty dollars, which gave us enough to go to the Victoria’s Secret clearance sale.”

“Yeah, there was this lady there, really hogging the space. Wouldn’t let anybody else get a look. She wasn’t being super aggressive about it but she wasn’t being polite either. When she turned to put stuff in her basket, Gretchen slipped in next to her and set a pick so that I could move in and grab some stuff for her to check out. That lady was pretty upset about the whole thing but she totally deserved it. She was mumbling something about rude kids as she left but as soon as she did, three other ladies came rushing in.”

“One of them actually thanked us, didn’t she Patty?”

“She did. I got the feeling they’d butted heads before. She wasn’t a match for Conner and Hobbes, was she, Hobbes?”

“No way, Conner!”

They high fived each other, or at least as much as Patricia can high five.

We’re all sitting on stools around a small, raised table, in an open area surrounded by assorted food stalls. It’s a common eating area. I notice that Gretchen has her feet resting on the rungs of the table.

“Are those new shoes hurting your feet, Gretchen?”

“No, I’m just not used to wearing heels. I’ve never had any before. It feels kinda weird standing that tall.”

“You should try standing next to you some time” Patricia grumped.

“But they don’t actually hurt your feet, do they? Because, if they do, we need to return them right now.”

“No, I just need more practice, that’s all. I almost fell down twice. I would have if Patty hadn’t caught me.”

“If that Mall Cop had been looking where he was going instead of ogling you, it would never have happened.”

“He wasn’t ogling me” Gretchen whispered, blushing.

“The heck he wasn’t! Drove his stupid little cart right into that trash can. He nearly knocked you over! Lucky thing I was looking right at him when he drove by. His eyes never left you, not for an instant. He actually accelerated as he tried to turn around to make a second pass then BOOM, right into the trash can, which bounced off a bench and came right at you.”

“But you stopped it with your foot … saving my life! My savior!”

They both laughed.

“Who you saving now, Da’Pee?”

Who said that? I turn towards where the person spoke. There are two teen age boys standing about ten feet away. I recognize one of them right away, he’s Patricia’s friend Cruz, the one who helped us at Hobbes’ home. The other one is also familiar, but I can’t place him. He’s a rather large boy.

“Hey! Cruz, Javier. Grab a seat! This is my mom, you guys met her at the dance.”

The two boys move a table close to ours and sit down. I remember Javier know, he’s a member of the same team as Cruz.

“Hey, Ms. Conner.”

“Mrs. Conner.”

“Hello, boys.”

“This is Gretchen, my friend from school.”

It’s interesting to see the boys react to Gretchen. Their attitudes change. They sit up taller … and wider, subtly flexing their chests to appear bigger. Patricia also changes, leaning forward just ever so slightly, giving them one of her multi watt smiles. Gretchen actually withdraws a bit, looking confused.

“Hey, Gretchen. How you doing?” asks Javier.

“Down boy” warned Patricia. “I’ll tell Terri.”

Javier deflates a little.

“You’re Terri’s boyfriend?” asked Gretchen.

“He is” replied Cruz as he leaned towards Gretchen, “but I ain’t nobody’s boyfriend.”

“For good reason” added Javier. “No girl’s that desperate.”

“What you mean, fool? I’m a perfectly fine specimen of the American male.” He leans a little closer to Gretchen. “Any lovely lady would be lucky to have me as a boyfriend.”

Gretchen appears flustered. I’m about to intervene when Patricia does it for me.

“We may be here shopping, Cruz, but we’re not buying what you’re selling, not today.”

“Not even if I’m offering free samples?”

“Not even if you had coupons.”

“Coupons. Now that’s a good idea Pee. I should hand out coupons.”

“Is he desperate or what?” said Javier.

“I’m not gonna give em out to just anybody.” He looks at Gretchen. “Just certain, highly desirable, potential customers. Call it consumer research.”

“May… maybe you’ll need a … customer satisfaction survey” Gretchen stammered, still uncertain.

This only egged Cruz on. “Maybe so. Would you care to give the product a try and let me know how… satisfied you are?”

“I … I … don’t think so, I’m not a fan of discounted merchandise.”

Javier and Patricia rock back on their stools.

“OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHH!” they cry in unison as Gretchen smiles and Cruz raises his eyebrows, nodding his head.

“Hey! I don’t have to sit here and take this abuse.”

“True” said Patricia. “You can go sit way over there and we can abuse you long distance. Now, why are you guys really here?”

“My mom’s birthday is next week, so I’m here looking for something” said Javier.

“I’m his gift consultant” Cruz added.

“There’s your first mistake” Patricia joked. “Why not get Terri to help?”

“Practices start today.”

“Basketball? Already?”

“Yep. It’ll be tough to make time to see each other for awhile.”

“Speaking of which” Cruz interjected “we haven’t seen you much around the Y since that dance where you played the piano. You forgotten’ bout you’re friends, Pee?”

“Naw, just been busy with school and stuff. When’s the next dance?”

“They don’t have one in November or December, the holidays and all, but they have a kick ass New Years Eve party. Punch fountain, real food, a decent band for once. It’s pretty sweet.”

“Sounds interesting. We may have to make time for that one.”

“WE?” Gretchen gasped.

“Why not?” said Patricia.

“I hate to be the wet blanket here, but we must be going” I say as I pick up my purse and one of Gretchen’s bags. “It’s been nice seeing you boys again. If they go to the New Years party, I’ll probably chaperon.” Best get that out right now. “We’ll likely meet again then, if not before.”

“Nice seeing you again, ma’am.”

“Catch ya later, Mrs. Conner. You need help with the bags?”

By then, Patricia’s also gotten off her stool and grabbed two of the three remaining bags.

“We got em’ boys, don’t trouble yourselves.”

Gretchen slides off her stool, bends down to grab the last bag, then stands up, revealing for the first time to the boys how tall she is.

“Daaammmnnnn!” muttered Cruz. Javier was just wide eyed.

“It’s … it’s … just the shoes. I’m not really … this tall … not usually” Gretchen said, self consciously.

Patricia scoots next to her, taking her arm.

“Neither am I … but it’s sure fun while it lasts, right Gretch?”

“Yeah … yeah, it is. It was nice meeting you guys.”

“See ya’ later, guys” said Patricia as we walked away. Suddenly she stopped. “Hey, tell Eric I said hello.”

The boys look at each other for a second or two before Cruz responds.

“Uhhh yeah, sure thing Pee, we’ll do that … no problem.”
CHAPTER FORTY FOUR

Mom should run a big man’s camp for girls.

When we got home from the Mall, everybody changed into shorts and shirts and went back to the cul-de-sac. Mom proceeded to run Gretchen through all kinds of drills.
Dribbling, foot work, passing, rebounding, everything you could think of. She didn’t shout or scream, she just demonstrated something then had Gretchen repeat it until she got it right.

Gretchen’s really not bad. She’s got good coordination and she’s smart. She understands not only what to do but why. It’s a lot easier to do something when you know the why. It also helps you improvise when the unexpected happens.

We keep practicing until dark again. This time I didn’t have anything simmering on the stove so Mom sent me out for KFC. Gretchen had never had it before and was dying to try it. They were still going at it when I got back, outlined by the dull glow of the street light, laughing as each one tried to muscle the other for position under the basket.

“Okay, break it up! Let’s not have any of that fighting or I’ll have to call the gang squad” I shout from the car. They stop pushing and walk towards the car, still bumping against each other, smiling and giggling. “You want a ride?”

“No, honey, we’ll walk. I don’t want to get the car seat all sweaty.”

I shift the car into gear. “Okay, I’ll see you at home. Don’t be long, don’t want the chicken to get cold.”

“We’ll be there” Mom shouts as I pull away. In the rear view mirror, I can see them walking down the middle of the street, arm in arm.

I had bought the big bucket, planning on having leftovers for tomorrow but we ate it all. Or should I say they ate it all. I had my usual breast, drumstick and thigh. Mom and Gretchen devoured the rest. Gretchen in particular chowed down like she hadn’t eaten in weeks. Mom pigged out pretty well too. When they were done, the both leaned back in their chairs.

“THAT was GOOD!” said Gretchen, surveying the pile of barren bones in front of her.

“Raul’s is better.”

“Maybe … but there’s something about eating food from a cardboard bucket.”

“Food always tastes better when you’ve worked up an appetite” said Mom. “Gretchen worked very hard out there, besides, she’s a growing girl, she needs the calories.”

“Really? What’s your excuse?” I ask.

“I paid for it, I don’t need an excuse.” She looked at the clock on the wall. “Good heavens! It’s 8:45.”

“Time flies when you’re gorging yourself. You go shower, Gretchen and I’ll clean up. She can go second and I’ll shower third, just make sure you save me some hot water.”

Mom wipes her hands on her napkin and drops it on the table. “How much hot water do you really need? You could bathe in the kitchen sink.”

“Keep that up and I’ll flush the toilet when you’re in there.”

She stands up and stretches. “I’m going to pay for all that exercise in the morning. I can feel my muscles getting stiff already.”

“We’ve got muscle rub cream for that.”

She wrinkles her nose. “It smells terrible.”

“Yeah, but it works.”

“Alright, I’m off. Make sure you rinse and recycle those foam bowls.”

“I know.”

There’s not much to clean up actually. We used real utensils instead of plastic, real plates and cups. Those we washed, dried and put away. The rest went in the trash or the recycle bin. It took us only five minutes or so. Mom was back downstairs in ten wearing her terrycloth bathrobe, drying her hair with a towel.

“Finished. You’re next Gretchen.”

“Hope I brought everything I need, we packed pretty quickly.”

“Anything you forgot, I’m sure Patricia can find something for you.”

“You go on up, I’ll follow in a few minutes.”

As Gretchen leaves, Mom sits down and survey’s the kitchen.

“Everything looks nice.”

“Wasn’t much to do.”

“But Gretchen pitched right in, didn’t she?”

“Yup.”

“She’s not the girl I expected.”

“Who’d you expect?”

“I don’t know … not someone so … normal.”

“I told you she was a good person.”

“Yes, I remember, but I still thought she’d be …”

“Evil? Spoiled? A brat?”

“Something like that.”

“But she wasn’t anything like that.”

“No … she wasn’t. She was very … polite, hard working, willing to help. Nice as she could be.”

“Told ya. I better get upstairs to make sure she’s got what she needs.”

I hurry upstairs. When I get to the bathroom, I can hear the shower running, so Gretchen must be okay. I go back to my room to get undressed.

Gretchen’s stuff is on the floor. I pick up her shirt and shorts, laying them across the back of my desk chair. They’re damp with sweat. She and Mom must have really gone at it. I put her bra, panty and socks on the seat.

I pull my shirt off over the top of my head, then pull my shorts down, stepping out of them once the hit the floor. Sitting on my bed, I unlace and remove my shoes and socks, first the left, then the right. After collecting my discarded clothes, I go to my closet and drop them in the clothes hamper, then remove my terrycloth robe from a hook on the back of the closet door, tossing it onto my bed. Slipping my arms out of the bra straps, I fold the cups down, pull it around my body bringing the clasp to the front and unhook it, dropping it in the hamper, my panties are quickly added to the pile of clothes.

Mom’s right about stiffening muscles. I reach across my chest with my left arm, grasping my right shoulder and giving it a pull, then repeating with my right arm. I probably won’t need any of the muscle cream.

Hope Gretch didn’t think I was kidding about the hot water. It’s an electric water heater and I think one of the units is burned out because it takes forever to heat a tank. Lipscomb won’t pop for a new one, which I can understand, but it’s a pain in the behind. I should go remind her.

After putting on my robe, I pull a towel from my gym bag and walk back to the bathroom. The water’s not running, which is a good sign.

“Gretchen, you okay?”

“I think so.”

“You think so? What’s the problem?”

“The towel’s kinda small.”

“There should be a big one on the towel rack by the toilet.”

“This is the biggest one I could find.”

“Well, let me see.”

“Come on in.”

When I open the door, the steam comes rolling out. She didn’t turn the exhaust fan on. At least I hope that’s the case. The other option means I’m gonna have a short, cold shower. It only takes a few seconds for the air to clear.

She’s right, it’s a small towel.

She’s holding it together behind her back with her right hand. The top just barely covers her nipples, the bottom is only inches below her crotch.

“Yeah, I see what you mean. You sure there’s nothing bigger in here?”

“Look for yourself.”

I’m trying not to. “There’s some regular size towels in my bedroom, bottom drawer of the chest of drawers.”

“Thanks, I was getting cold.”

Don’t I know it. She scurries past me, hunched over, towel flapping as she scoots down the hall, giving me a good look at her toned bottom until she turns the corner into my room. Oh well, it was nice while it lasted.

I get prepared before I turn on the water. Soap, shampoo, conditioner, everything ready. Once it’s running, I jump in. The water’s not hot but it’s warm, so I’ve got about two minutes before it gets cold.

Navy shower it is.

Once I get wet, I turn off the water, saving the hot water for rinsing. I lather and scrub my body with a wash cloth, shampoo my hair, turn the water back on, quickly rinse everything clean then switch the water off again. After using the conditioner, the water goes back on and I finish just as the temperature drops.

One of life’s little victories. I don’t know why it is, but after one of these little successes, I always feel upbeat. It’s stupid, I know that but I can’t help it.

I dry off, put my robe back on and skip back to my room.

“Despite your conspiracy with my mother, I had enough hot water for my shower.”

Gretchen doesn’t react to my joke. She’s just sitting on my bed, wrapped in a towel … my sex toy collection spread out next to her.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

I wasn’t snooping! I just did what Patty told me to do!
I open the drawer and there was a towel, just like she said. The one I had hardly covered anything. When I pulled it from the drawer, maybe I pulled too quickly, because a bunch of other stuff came flying out with the towel. I was afraid I broke something!

After wrapping myself in the towel, I went looking for the other stuff. The first one was right in the middle of Patty’s bed. It was almost ten inches long, pink, soft and squishy like Jello but it was also hard, it kept its shape. There was this little curved piece that was attached three fourths of the way from the rounded, blunt tip. The base had a screw cap if some kind. There were others scattered around the floor. Something similar but there was a wide part in the whole shaft instead of the single curved piece. There were little nubbins all around the wide part. It was blue. There were two white, hard plastic ones, the first the size of my index finger though fatter, the second eight inches long, shaped like an elongated bullet.

I didn’t know what to make of the leather harness thing that was hanging part way out of the drawer. It had a hard plastic oval plate with an approximately two inch diameter hole in the middle. The leather straps were attached around the perimeter of the plate but some of the straps were connected to each other. Weird.

There were several plastic bottles with stuff in them. One was “KY Jelly”, there were two that were flavored, cherry and strawberry, another one labeled “Anal-eze”. Thank God none of them spilled! There was also a bag of assorted batteries.

The last thing was the strangest. It looked kinda like a double ended man’s penis with a plastic collar in the middle, though one end was longer than the other and both were curved. It was made of that same squishy material as those other two things, though it seemed to have a stiffer core.

I think there was more stuff in the drawer, but I wasn’t going to mess with it, not until Patty came back. I put everything I could find on the bed. My hands were still a little wet so when I picked up the squishy ones, they were hard to hang on to, sliding in my hands. I managed to get them on the bed but found the pink one hard to put down.

It was strange how my hand slipped up and down it so easily and how it squirted forward when I squeezed it, like it was alive or something. I kept squeezing and sliding with my hands for several seconds, lost in the feelings.

It suddenly occurred to me that all this stuff might be sex toys. At almost the same moment, Patty came through the door. I was so surprised, I squeezed the pink thing and it popped right out of my hand, flying right toward Patty!

* * * *** * * * *** * * *
OH! MY! GOD!

I’d completely forgotten I’d stashed all that stuff in that bottom drawer inside that top towel! What must Gretchen think of me?! Slut! Whore!

There must be five things on the bed. She’s holding the Pink Rabbit vibrator with a death grip, wide eyed in shock. Suddenly, it pops out of her hand and sails through the air, heading directly at me. I block it with my left hand, deflecting it, and catching it with my right hand.

There’s no way we’re ignoring this.

“I’m so sorry!” we both say then clap our hands to our mouths in amazement. “You first!” we again exclaim simultaneously, hands returning to mouth.

“No, go ahead” we repeat each other for a third time. This is too much. By now, we’re both chuckling over the situation. I raise my hand. She nods at me.

“Look. I’m sorry. I completely forgot …”

“No, it’s my fault. I was in a hurry and …”

“I should have remembered …”

“I jerked it out when I should have been more …”

“I could have gotten the towel for you instead I …”

“Are these sex toys?”

That question brings me to a halt. How do I answer it? Not much choice.

“Yes … yes they are.”

“Where’d you get them?”

“My mother bought them for me.”

Gretchen picks up the Blue Silicone Vibrator, examining it closely. “Your mother is soooo cool! You are, like, sooo damn lucky!”

“What?”

“How many other mothers would buy their daughters sex toys? I don’t know of any. I’ve never even heard of a mother ever doing that!”

“Well … how many other girls have you asked?”

“None! Don’t be ridiculous!”

“Then how do you know there aren’t others?”

“Pleeezzzee! Now who’s being ridiculous?” Gretchen stares at me, eyes narrowed. I break.

“Fine. I’ve got a cool mother.”

Gretchen squeals, hopping on the bed closer to me, making all the stuff around her bounce, which is a disconcerting image.

“So … she’s okay with you using this stuff? Of course she is! She wouldn’t buy it for you if she wasn’t okay with it. That is so freaking amazing! My father would just … explode if I asked for something like this.” She picks up the double ended dildo. “What is this?”

I take it from her hands, lean across the bed and grab the harness. I fit the dildo in the mounting plate and twist, locking it in. Gretchen still looks confused. I hold it in front of my robe at crotch level.

“This part goes in … here.”

She still doesn’t get it. “The other part goes …”

I gesture towards her towel covered vagina. The penny finally drops and her eyes go wide.

“NO WAY! Two girls?!”

“Or a boy and a girl.”

“A boy?”

I pat my bottom and smile wickedly. Her eyes grow twice as wide.

“A BOY?! IN HIS BUTT?! NOOO WAAAY!”

“Or a girl too.”

Gretchen seems unsure of what to think about that. It takes a moment or two to digest the idea. She slides closer to me.

“Have you ever …” she asks quietly, not finishing the sentence but I know what she means. I hold up the strap-on.

“With this?”

“Yeah.”

“Boy or girl?”

“Either.”

“No. I’ve never used this.”

“And the rest of the stuff?”

“Oh yeah.”

“How much?”

“Lots.”

“Like lots of times or lots of months or lots of …” She trails off.

“Like a couple of times a week, depending on how I feel.”

“Do you get an … uuhh … an …”

“Big ‘O’?”

“Uhhh yeah … do you?”

“Yeah, most the time.”

“Not always?”

“Like I said, depends on the mood. Sometimes it’s late and I don’t have the time for the full show.”

“But, you’ve had them?”

“Yes, I have had orgasms.”

Gretchen looks down and away from me. “I haven’t” she whispers.

“Never?”

“Never ever.”

“Do you …”

“I try, but I don’t know how.”

“Don’t they have sex education classes at St. Ann’s?”

“Patty, it’s a CATHOLIC school. What kind of sex education are you going to get?”

“That’s true. The church isn’t big on self service. But still, if you just do what feels good, that ought to get you something.”

“Not so far. Besides, I’m always worried about someone coming into my bedroom because they heard something ‘suspicious’.”

Talk about your mood killer. To be totally honest, if Mom hadn’t bought me that DVD, I wouldn’t know as much as I do. That’s not to say I know it all. I still surprise myself, now and then.

“Gretchen, have you ever … been with a boy?”

“Ha! What boy? He’d have to fly into my bedroom.”

“Good point.”

“Have you ever been with a boy?”

“No.” That popped out of my mouth quicker than I expected.

“Patty … have you ever been with … a girl?”

Of course I have, but it’s not what she thinks.

“Look, Gretchen … uuuhhh … well, that’s … uuuhhh, that’s … complicated.”

“I know, it’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry.”

“No, no, that’s not it. I asked you about boys, we were talking about a lot of private stuff. It was a fair question. I’m just not sure how to answer it without giving you the wrong impression.”

“You told my father that your mother always said to tell the truth.”

Darn her good memory!

I could lie to her, it’d be easy. She’d never know the difference. Our entire relationship is based on a lie … as were most of my relationships. And look what it got me. Professional success and personal failure. Right now, I’m trying to figure out a way to have the best of both worlds. It may not work but I’m gonna give it a try.

“Yes, I’ve been with a girl, more than one.”

“At the same time?!”

Yeah, but we’re not going there!

“NO! Of course not.”

“When?”

“Let’s just say it was before I came to St. Ann’s and met you.”

She seems relieved with that answer, though she doesn’t say anything. It appears all these questions have been leading to something but she’s not ready to pull the trigger yet. I start to pick up the toys and bottles that are spread out on the bed.

“I’ll put these away and we can get dressed for bed. I’ve got a good movie for us to watch tonight. It’s R rated so you’ve probably …”

Gretchen gently grabs my wrist as I reach towards the bottle nearest her.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what, Gretch?”

“Don’t put your toys away.”

“Why not?”

She takes her free hand and adds it to the one already holding my wrist.

“Patty … would you please teach me how to have an orgasm?”

CHAPTER FORTY FIVE

The girls have been talking upstairs. A few times, they got rather loud but they clearly weren’t angry with one another.

They do get along together remarkably well. It’s obvious that Patricia is the leader of the two but she doesn’t abuse her power, always making sure Gretchen is enjoying herself.

It takes remarkably little for Gretchen to appear to be happy. The simplest common courtesies seem to please her to no end. She seems quite ready to pitch in to help, when she can. Plus she’s willing to learn new skills to help in the future. I’m certain that Patricia gave her a heads up as to what I expect in my household, but I can usually tell when some one is making a token effort. Gretchen appears to be completely genuine in her helpful attitude.

Patricia asked what I had expected Gretchen to be like. To be honest, I had anticipated her being a spoiled mafia princess type. How could she not be, coming from an unbelievably rich household like Raymond Hobbes’? Despite Patricia’s assurances, I was sure she would be insufferable and unbearable.

I couldn’t have been more wrong. She really took to my coaching her, even tolerating quite a bit of physical … not abuse exactly because it was all within the rules … if you stretched them a bit … but she took it, then gave as good as she got. Very impressive. She might be able to play college ball if she buckled down and took it seriously. Physical skills can only take you so far, but you can’t coach height, and she’s tall enough to play forward, certainly Division Two.

I hear foot steps on the stairs and look toward them. It’s Patricia, slowly walking down, watching me as she descends but remaining silent. She appears to be concerned about something.

“Patricia … is something wrong?”

“No, no, not wrong … I’m sure it’s not wrong.”

“Well, what is it?”

“I told Gretchen she could get a towel from my chest of drawers.”

“So? That’s where you keep them.”

“I keep other things in there too.”

“What things?”

“Those things that you bought me.”

“Still don’t know what you mean.”

“Those silicon, vibrating things?”

“Silicon … vibrating … Oh … aaahhh, yes, those things. OH MY! Gretchen found THOSE things?”

“Yeah, THOSE things.”

That’s funny!

“What did you tell her?”

“What could I? She may be sheltered but she’s not stupid. I told her what they were. And that I use them. And that you bought them for me.”

“Goodness! What did she say?”

“That you were sooo cool and I am sooo lucky to have you as a mother.”

“Well, that goes without saying.”

“She also wants me to show her how to use them.”

WHAT?!

“You said no … tell me you said no. Politely. Nicely. No.”

Patricia looks away, eyes up towards her room.

“Patricia. What did you tell …”

She looks back down at me. “I said I would.”

What was she thinking? No daughter of mine is going to do something like THAT with another girl.

“I forbid you from doing … you can’t be serious …”

“Careful Mom, you’re risking your cool mother status.”

“I don’t care about that! This has nothing to do with my status. This isn’t something you should be involved with, this is something she needs to discuss with …”

“Her father? Her dead mother? You know she can’t do that. Did you with your mother or father? I sure as heck didn’t.”

What is she talking about? We discussed it, I bought the equipment for God’s sake.

“WE did talk about it, Patricia. At length.”

“Yeah, we did about this time but I didn’t, not my first time. Sure, my dad gave me the birds and the bees talk, but I didn’t consult him before my first … date with a girl.”

Of course. It’s so easy to forget, to get wrapped up in our false identities.

“You’re right, you’re right … I’m sorry, my bad … but is this wise? How does this help us?”

“It doesn’t help us but it doesn’t hurt us either. I’ve already decided to do it. I just wanted to let you know so you wouldn’t come barging in and freak out or something.”

“I’ve no say in this?”

“Not really. It’s not that big a deal. I’m just showing her how the toys work, what they can do for her. If you’ve been telling me the truth, it’s the kind of thing girls talk about.”

“Talk about, yes. Demonstrations?”

I can’t, in good conscience, say “no”, not in all cases. I never did anything like that with my girlfriends, but I know for a fact that some of them did with each other … not always without consequences.

“Patricia … just be careful. This is a tricky area to get into with someone.”

“You DO remember that I’ve been married three times, right?”

“This is very different.”

She gives me a smirk. On her, it’s very cute, but I think I can see the tiniest hint of Peter Harris in her eyes.

“Don’t worry Mom, I’ll make sure neither of us gets pregnant.”

“Ha ha, very funny. Try to keep it down to a dull roar.”

“Will do.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Patty wanted to talk with her mother first. I can’t imagine ever taking with my father about something like that. Her mother has to be the coolest in the world.

The bedroom door opens. I pull my towel tighter around me. When I see it’s Patty, I relax.

“What’d she say?”

Patty closes the door behind her. “She’s not happy about it, but she won’t stop us.”

“Why’s that? We’re not doing anything wrong, are we? It’s a natural thing, isn’t it? Why would she not …”

Patty pulls her robe up above her knees and sits down next to me on her bed.

“She’s a mother. No mother’s ever happy about her child, her baby, dealing with sexual stuff. If you’re nervous about anything, we don’t have to do it. It’s all for you, Gretch.”

“No, I’m cool with it” I lied. Not exactly lied, of course I’m nervous. Any girl would be nervous. Except Patty. She looks totally comfortable. How can she be so calm?

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Gretchen’s scared, anybody could see that. Heck, so am I. This could be a really stupid thing.

I mean, a really, really stupid thing.

There’s no possible benefit to the job, I’m already in as far as I need to be. If Hobbes found out, he wouldn’t be happy. If he gets upset with me, it’ll threaten everything I’ve planned.

But Gretchen needs this. She’s led such a sheltered life, she has no experience with sex. Someone has to help her.

“If we’re gonna do this, we better get started. Everything is clean from the last time I used them but that’s step number one. Always clean the … stuff.”

Gretchen giggles. “You’re embarrassed, aren’t you?”

“A little, yeah.”

She smiles. “I’m glad. This makes it easier, if we’re both … you know.”

“I know, but we have to get past it.”

The best way to get past it is to go first. I get up on my knees, untie my robe and open it, letting it slip down my back and off my arms, falling to the bed.

Gretchen’s eyes are as big as saucers.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

She did it! Just like that! BOOM! Off comes the robe!

I’ve seen her naked before, in the showers after gym, but this isn’t the same. There you’re naked cause you have to be. Now she’s naked because she wants to be … with me.

Oh God! I asked for this. Can I do it? Only one way to find out.

I get up on my knees, facing Patty. I don’t have to do much, just stop holding my towel, just let go … but I can’t! It’s like my hand won’t do what I tell it. I start to get scared but Patty slowly reaches out with her right hand, gently working her fingers down between my breasts and the edge of the towel, grabbing the edge with her thumb.

“It’s fine, Gretchen. We’re both gonna be okay” she whispers, tenderly pulling the towel from my body. My hand loosens, letting it slip away. I resist the sudden urge to cover myself with my hands, letting them fall to my sides.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Why am I so darn short? My eyes are level with her breasts, her beautiful, firm, youthful breasts. I haven’t seen breasts like that in person for over thirty years.

All my wives were attractive women, very attractive. But there’s attractive and then there’s Gretchen, looming over me like some kind of dark haired, bronzed skin, Amazon. What I wouldn’t give to be my old self and twenty years old but know everything I know now.

When I was younger, like twenty eight or twenty nine, I was a pretty darn good lover. Not the best, I mean how would you figure that out, hold a contest? But everyone I slept with back then was darn happy. I thought I knew what women wanted and I could deliver it, in spades. My equipment worked very well, still had a quick recovery, and I knew how to pull back on the reins until the final charge down the front stretch, if you know what I mean.

My time as Patricia has shown me I didn’t know the half of it. I could have done so much more, it almost makes me cry when I think about it. When this job is done and I return to my old, impotent body, I’ll have all this knowledge and I won’t be able to do a damn thing with it.

Such a shame. It’d make a hell of a “Twilight Zone” episode.

Right now, I can show Gretchen what I’ve learned, up to a point, but that should be good enough.

“Gretchen, always remember this. You are a beautiful woman and you deserve to be happy and fulfilled. You are beautiful on the outside and the inside. You don’t have to settle for second best. You wait until you’ve found the right person for you. Until then, this ought to help you pass the time. Lay back and prop yourself up with some pillows.”

She blushes, then sensually slides back toward the headboard.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

She said I was beautiful! Beautiful inside and out! I should have said she was beautiful too. Damn IT! I missed my chance.

Patty told me to lay back but put some pillows behind my upper back and neck, lifting my head. She has me raise my hips and slides a towel under my bottom, spreading it flat. I don’t say anything until I’m in position and comfortable.

“Why do you want me like this?”

“So you can see what I’m doing. Actually, it’d be better if we had a big mirror, but that might be a little too clinical.”

I giggle. “Paging Dr. Conner. Paging Dr. Conner.”

She smiles. “Dr. Patricia Conner … the llluuuuvvv Doctor.” She reaches over to the bedside table where all the equipment is and picks up a bottle. “This is a lubricant, it helps reduce friction, prevents skin irritation. Sometimes you want friction but not tonight. You can substitute baby oil, which won’t raise any suspicions at home. Girls use baby oil for a whole lotta stuff.” She flipped the top of the bottle up and dribbled some oil into the palm of her left hand, then rubbed her palms together. She took a breath and slowly exhaled. “You ready?” she asked.

I could only nod my head.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Okay, stay calm. Play it straight. I climb onto the bed between Gretchen’s outstretched legs, nudging them further apart with my elbows. When I get to her vagina, I pause just a moment to steady myself.

It’s not trimmed. There’s no reason to expect she would. I’m used to that though, wives one and three were earth types. Personally, I like to keep mine trimmed but not shaved. Don’t need the irritated skin.

“Alright. This may be a little cool, though I’ve tried to warm it with my hands. Either way, it’ll warm up fast enough.”

I start by applying the lube to her pelvis, just above her vagina. She jumps slightly as soon as I touch her but whether it the temp or nerves I couldn’t say. I try to smile reassuringly and start to massage with my fingertips, moving closer to the target. I want her to get used to me touching her before I get down to business.

“Just close your eyes and enjoy the feelings. I’ll show you how to do something, then you can try it. Okay?”

She just closes her eyes and nods her head again, letting it fall back onto the pillows piled behind her.

My fingers are on the outer lips of her labia, the skin soft and pliable but also plump with blood, pushing back ever so slightly against my fingertips. I look up at Gretchen. Her eyes are still closed but she’s got a slight smile on her face and she’s breathing deeply.

So far, so good.

I move on to the inner lips, rubbing and stroking, top to bottom, bottom to top. Gretchen inhales sharply several times but keeps her eyes closed, though she does turn her head to the side. I keep it up until her breathing returns to normal.

Now I start to work closer to her clitoral hood, teasing it with my thumbs as I continue the long strokes alternating with rubbing. There’s several more sharp breaths with slow exhales and her hips twitch a few times, though her eyes are still closed.

I switch up the motions, now stroking with my left but rubbing her clitoral hood with my right. The first time I make contact with the clitoris, her breath catches and her back arches slightly as she quietly moans.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“MMMMoohhmmmmmm”

Every change brings a whole new set of sensations. I’ve been able to get something like those feelings at home for a few seconds but I could never relax. I was always afraid someone might knock on the door or maybe, just maybe, there was a camera in the room, despite Father’s assurances.

But now, I can let go and let Patty work her magic.

That last one went down to my toes, bounced and went right back to the top of my head.

“Uuuugghhhh”

There’s another one. She just keeps … now what? I think she’s put her finger in my … oohh she has! It’s two fingers and she’s pushing them in and out, slowly, pushing them apart, while still rubbing my…

“Aaaahhhhhhh”

It’s hard to breath after that last one, I have to concentrate and take deep … wait, she’s stopping!

“No, please …”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“Sshhhh, it’s alright, don’t worry. I’m just gonna show you how to do it, that’s all. Give me your right hand, that’s right, now put it here and now … yeah, just like that. Now, I’m gonna take your left and … okay, I think you got it.”

She went straight to work and was soon clearly enjoying herself. I should probably leave it right here, maybe show her a couple of other tricks I’ve learned but then that’s it. That’d be the smart thing to do.

Gretchen opens her eyes, they’re bright and alive.

“What’s next, Doctor?”

Oooohhh kay. I guess we can go a little further.

“Alright, the Doctor prescribes …” reaching over to the nightstand, I pick out the pink silicon vibrator “… Mr. Pinky.”

“Mr. Pinky?”

“Well, it’s shaped a lot more like a mister than a misses.”

“I guess. So what does Mr. Pinky do?”

“Allow me to demonstrate.”

I twist the base, turning the vibrator on low, then trace around the outer lips of the labia with the blunt tip of Mr. Pinky, working towards the inside. Gretch is breathing with short, sharp breathes, not exactly a series of gasps but not far off.

“How’s that?”

“Oh yes! That’s … ummm … nice.”

“How’s this?”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

My hips jump off the bed and I shiver all over, gasping for air. Patty touched my clit with Mr. Pinky. It was like my entire body was electrified for a few seconds but there was no pain, only pleasure. I’d never managed to get anywhere near that at home.

She keeps rubbing the tip around in small circles. The electric feeling fades a little bit but doesn’t disappear, like I’m getting used to it. All of a sudden, the vibrations increase, bringing back that electric charge to full power again. My hands reach up on their own and I start squeezing my breasts and playing with my hard nipples, adding a whole new group of feelings.

I’d felt myself up before, played with my breasts, but never at the same time. All these different feelings don’t add but seem to multiply, each one making the others even better.

Patty’s fingers are back in my vagina, which feels even slicker than before. Did she add some more of that lubricant? I can also smell something I hadn’t noticed before, kind of … earthy. It’s not sweet and it’s not sour but it’s definitely there. Doesn’t matter, I’ve got other things to concentrate on.

I’ve lost track of my breathing, I’m actually panting, trying to catch some air, when Patty changes things again. Her fingers are twisting and pulling around my clit, replacing Mr. Pinky. Is she going to use something else? I can still hear the vibrator … then I feel it, gently parting my vagina as she slowly pushes it in me.

I’ve never had anything that big in me before. I’ve used tampons but they never felt like this. Patty pulls Mr. Pinky back a little bit then pushes in again, even farther this time. My butt slides down on the towel, trying to get her to go even deeper, to go faster. She pulls back again, the muscles in my pelvis clamping down, trying to keep it there, but she quickly pushes in again, deeper still, but this time, something vibrating also touches my clit, causing a whole bunch of muscle convulsions, making me squeeze my boobs hard.

I can’t breathe right, gasping for air. I can’t talk right, just moans, groans and squeaks. I can’t see right, just flashes of things. I can’t move right, my legs, arms and body trembling. I must not be thinking right because I don’t care about any of those problems, I feel wonderful! I’d stay this way for the rest of my life if I could.

I can’t tell how long this feeling lasts, but eventually, I become aware of a change. There’s something soft and moist that replaced Patty’s fingers. I tip my head forward and force my eyes to focus.

Patty’s head is firmly lodged between my legs, her nose pressed into my pussy, licking and nibbling my clit.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

I couldn’t stop myself.

There was her naked pussy, soaking wet with her own juices, the musky aroma filling the room, her body squirming at my touch, quietly moaning and groaning practically continuously. I’d rarely gotten a woman this sexually fired up before. Everything I did just made her hotter … and more appealing.

There’ nothing as sexy as a woman on the verge of an orgasm. You want to share in it, be a part of it, join it. My vagina was wet from just being in the same room with her. I carefully eased forward and dropped my head into her crotch, lapping up the mix of natural and strawberry flavored juices. I quickly found her clit with my tongue and began to lick, nibble and suck her towards another orgasm.

In seconds, she wrapped her fingers in my hair and crossed her legs behind my head, pulling me tightly to her body. I keep pushing Mr. Pinky in and out of her vagina but I turn the extension so that it makes contact with her anus.

I can’t see anything but I can hear Gretchen starting to whimper again as I increase my speed. It’s not long before her legs begin to tremble and she yanks me so hard against her pussy that I have to fight to get some air. Less than a minute later, she relaxes her grip with both her hands and legs. I push myself away after one last lingering kiss.

Resting on my elbows between her legs, I can see her laying back on the pillows, thumbs idling playing with her still enlarged nipples, eyes closed. Trying not to disturb her, I slid over to her left and work my way up towards her head, pausing to lean down and gently kiss and suckle her nearest breast. She sighs contentedly several times, her eyes still closed, until I stop and finish my trip to the headboard. She really is a tall drink of water.

When I finally get up next to her head, I lean on one elbow and look over at her face. She looks almost asleep, except for the wide grin.

“So … how’d you like it?”

Her eyes slowly open, her head turning towards mine. Her left arm snakes past my arm, resting lightly on the back of my head. She pulls herself up a few inches and the rolls over on top of me, crushing her mouth against mine, mixing deep kisses with giggles and laughter.

CHAPTER FORTY SIX

I was the first to wake up Sunday morning. Patty was dead to the world but I was still buzzing from last night. After we finished making out, she showed me the rest of her toys and gave me a quick demonstration. It was quick because I still hadn’t recovered from Mr. Pinky. And her wonderful mouth.

Mr. Pinky. My girlfriend has no imagination. Well, not when it comes to names. She’s got lots of it when it comes to sex.

She saved the harness for last. By that time, I was ready again. I was willing to try to suck it but she said no, it was just a piece of plastic. She’d get nothing from it and to make me suck it would just be some kind of power trip. She said that it would be different when I had a boyfriend.

Which is crazy. Why would I have a boyfriend? If last night proved anything, it proved I’m a lesbian. I never thought I was one of them before last night. Sure, I’ll admit that I’ve been attracted to Patricia from the start, but I was never attracted to any other girls. There’s just something different about my girlfriend, Patricia Conner.

She had locked that double ended thing in the harness and then put the shorter, wider end into her vagina. She tightened all the straps and then had me sit on the edge of the bed, facing her. The long end was at just the right height. I wasn’t sure it would fit but Patty said not to worry. Neither of us needed any of those lubes, though the strawberry one isn’t bad.

I leaned forward and we kissed, rubbing our breasts against each other for several minutes before she finally moved closer and started to fuck me with the dildo.

I reach down and move a lose strand of hair from her face, my beautiful, sleeping girlfriend’s face. That’s right, we fucked, long and hard. I didn’t have to do a lot but Patty was working at it. I know it felt wonderful to me and she said she liked it too.

We finally fell asleep after midnight, holding each other. When I woke up, her head was resting on my breast. I’m still feeling a bit frisky. Where is that harness? Patty dropped all that stuff in the bathroom, said she was going to wash it all this morning.

I carefully slip out of bed, letting her head rest on a pillow. Walking down the hall to the bathroom, naked, I feel light as a feather. The harness is on top of the pile, being the last one we used. It looks pretty clean already but she was very adamant about cleaning before use. A little soap and water should take care of it.

It took bit of adjusting to get right, but once everything is tightened down, the fit is quite good. I can feel it bounce in front of me as I return to the bedroom. It really looked weird when I stopped and checked myself out in the bathroom mirror. I slid my hand up and down it a few times, enjoying the motion it transferred to the part lodged firmly in my pussy. What does it feel like for a guy? To have this big thing bouncing around in front of them. I guess all guys aren’t that big.

When I get back to bed, Patty’s still sleeping. I was hoping she would be, I want this to be a surprise. Moving slowly, I turn the sheet down, revealing her amazing body. How could you not love her boobs? And that cute little bottom? You just want to pick her up and hug her!

I spread her legs just a bit to give me some room. I don’t remember everything she did to me last night, a lot of it is part of an orgasmic blur, but I recall some of it. I hunch down over her pussy and spread the flesh with my fingers, then I begin to lick, suck and nibble, slowly at first but I pick up the pace when Patty starts to murmur in her sleep. Frankly, I’m surprised she hasn’t woken up by now. Our fucking must have tuckered her out.

I keep going until I see her head turn and eyes flutter. Quickly moving up over her body, I get the dildo positioned just barely into her vagina. I have to arch my back to keep us face to face. She yawns, stretching her arms, then smiles when she sees my face. I drop my head down and we kiss.

“Good morning my gorgeous sleepy head” I say. “Ready for your Sunday surprise?”

“What Sunday surpr …” I push my hips forward a little bit. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! What are you doing?”

“The same thing you did for me last night.” I push forward again. “Remember?”

“I remember! I remember! You don’t have …”

“But I want to. You were so wonderful last night, I just wanted to return the favor.” I pull back and push forward again. “It’s only fair, right?”

“Aahh aaahhhh, fair, yes, fair, but you don’t have to go to all that trouble, eeeepp!”

I pull back and push in harder. Patty was really working last night and I should be willing to do it just as hard for her. “It’s no trouble. I’ve already got the equipment on.”

“I’m aware … of that.”

“It’s so strange how the motion at one end.” Thrust. “Affects the other end.”

“Mmmmmmmm yeah mmmm … isn’t it ooooohhh.”

I can’t bend down far enough to get my mouth on her breasts but I can hold myself up with one arm and use the other hand to tickle and pinch her nipples. Patty spent a lot of time playing with my nipples. When I touch hers, she grabs my wrist, hard, but I keep going and soon her hand falls away.

By now, I think I’m all the way in. Pulling almost all the way out, I slam back in. Patty gasps, just like I did. I do it again. And again.

“Huuhhh … Gretch … en … you … don’t … need … aaahhh! … no … no …” I pick up speed, still fondling her breast with my free hand. “Gretchen … yoouuuu … no … no … please!”

I stop. Am I hurting her? “Please what, Patty?”

I look down at her, her face is flush and she’s breathing hard in sharp gasps. And there’s that smell again. She has a strange look on her face. Maybe I am hurting her. I bend lower so we are eye to eye.

“Patty, please what?”

She bites her lower lip, chewing on it for a second or two.

“Please … don’t stop” she says quietly.

I kiss her and she responds … and how.

“Of course I won’t stop, silly.”

I return to pounding away with the strap on. Patty stops talking, just gasping and moaning and the occasional giggle. Most of the time, she’s got that bright beautiful smile of hers.

We keep going for several minutes before my arm starts hurting. It’s bearing all my weight. I need to change positions.

“Patty?”

“Huh?” she gasps.

“Can we change positions? My arm’s starting to hurt a bit.”

“Fine, whatever you want … just don’t stop.”

“I was thinking, if I stood next to the bed and you got on your knees …”

She quickly hops up from her back and rolls onto her hands and knees. “Like this?”

I slide off the bed and step up behind her, the dildo at exactly the right point. Taking her hips in my hands, I slip the tip in with one smooth motion. I think Patty’s as wet as I was. She actually wriggles her hips and pushes back against me, causing the other end to press into me. As I slide all the way in, we both groan at the same time. She looks back at me over her shoulder, smiling and wiggling her hips again. I giggle, then do several short, sharp thrusts. Patty crosses her eyes, making me giggle a second time.

I go back to the long strokes but mix in some short, faster ones. Patty’s head is hanging down, breathing in and out regularly. Sliding my hands up from her hips, I caress the sides of her stomach, slowly moving up to and past her ribs, finally resting on her shoulders. From here, I can really get some good leverage, pulling her back towards me as I push forward, though she’s already pushing back on her own, lightly grunting each time.

We keep fucking in this position for several minutes. At least twice, Patty stops moving on her own but her body trembles while she keeps repeating, “oh-oh-oh God. Oh-oh God!” I can see her boobs swing around when she grinds her butt left and right. I drop down so that my hands are on the bed next to hers, my stomach resting on her back, then I reach up underneath her with my right hand and grab her breast, I’m not sure which one. She immediately buries her head in a pillow and screams, shaking all over again. She starts to slump down but I hold her up, never stopping with the strap on.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

I don’t think I’ve ever felt smaller and less in control before, with Gretchen’s body practically engulfing me, rhythmically impaling me with that piece of plastic.

That marvelous, magical, unrelenting, glorious piece of plastic!

I should have stopped her right at the start, but now … I can’t remember why I would ever want her to quit.

I’d used the vibrators and dildos before, quite a lot, and never hesitated to push them as far as I could. I particularly liked the inflated round pillow with the vibrator mounted vertically in the center. I rode that one hard. But it’s completely different when you’re in charge, when you’re in control, when you’re alone.

Right now … I am being fucked! Fucked like I used to fuck women, only Gretchen doesn’t stop. She’s got the energy of youth, of flourishing muscles plus a never ending erection. I’ve already experienced three orgasms and she doesn’t show any sign of stopping.

What else could any woman want?

Now that she’s found my boobs, it’s only getting better. Her sweating skin slipping past mine, her hot breath tickling my neck, her driving hips slapping my bottom, her fingers milking my distended nipples and, most of all, the wonderful dildo tying us together, the avalanche of sensations nearly overwhelming me. I’m almost immobile but I can squeeze the dildo with my pelvic muscles, which I do as hard as I can, which only increases the feed back that Gretchen gets. Every time I clamp down, she grunts with effort and pleasure but doesn’t slow down a bit.

The tension in my pussy is building again. The first two orgasms surprised me, coming before I was ready for them. The third one didn’t sneak up on me but Gretch startled me when she fell down against my back, grabbing my breast, breaking my concentration. This time, I’m gonna hold out as long as I can, let the feelings grow and multiply until I can’t hold them back any more.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

I don’t know what Patty is doing, but it’s driving me crazy! Every time I push forward, she drops her back and raises her butt. It feels like she’s shoving back but she doesn’t move. Whatever it is, it makes the end in me move in just the right way. I can keep this up as long as she can.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

It’s growing, building, intensifying, but also flowering … spreading. I clench my eyes shut and try to tamp the sensations down, but can only slow the progress. It may not be much longer.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Pushing myself back upright so I can get a better angle, I grab Patty’s hips with both hands, pushing the dildo in as far as possible, which pushes back into me the same way. She drops to her elbows, sticking her bottom up even more … just where I want it. She spreads her legs wider too, letting me push in just that little bit further. Suddenly, Patty begins to laugh.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

When Gretchen changes position, it frees me up to move. By dropping to my elbows, I change the angle of the dildo as it plows down my vagina. The feelings are so wonderful, so unbelievably thrilling that I start to laugh. It’s just a giggle at first and I try to stifle it. I know how I would have reacted if a woman I was fucking laughed at me but I can’t help it. Soon, I’m laughing between gasps and moans. Unable to hold it back any longer, my orgasm breaks, running through my body. At the last second, before I completely lose control, I reach out with my right hand, flail around until I find a pillow, drag it to me, bury my face in it and scream.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Patty’s trembling in my hands, her hips shaking. The dildo is buried deep within her and everything is being transmitted straight to me. Just as quickly, I start to shake. It’s like my orgasms from last night, but different too. Either way, it’s all good. As the feeling fades, I slump down, laying on Patty’s back. We stay that way for a few seconds, then her legs slowly spread, dropping her bottom down until she’s flat on the bed.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

As the post sex orgasmic high fades away, one thought pushes its way to the front of my mind.

Oh man, was this a mistake or what?

I should never have given in last night and I certainly shouldn’t have let her screw me this morning, though, I know exactly why I did it.

It’s my gosh darn pattern.

Two days ago, I faced almost certain death and then pulled one right out of my ass and escaped. That’s not the first time it’s happened in my career but practically every time it has, I end up doing something stupid shortly thereafter. Sometimes it’s drinking, other times it was fighting or gambling, though, more often than not, it’s been sex.

I think it’s some kinda subconscious celebration of life, that I’d dodged a giant bullet between the eyes and needed to celebrate somehow. Until now, I’d never recognized the pattern, but laying here, Gretchen’s warm body pressed against mine, her breasts resting against my shoulders and the dildo lodged deeply, firmly and ever more uncomfortably in my pussy, it all seems so obvious. Mercifully, that kind of behavior fit my undercover identities in the past, only adding to the authenticity. This time …

Gretchen slowly starts to stir above me and I encourage her to move by gradually pushing my upper body off the bed. She clambers back, finally pulling the dildo out as she does, causing residual waves of pleasure to wash over me.

It was fun … of course it was fun, it’s always fun! But was it smart? I’ll have to see how much damage I did.

Rolling onto my side, I look up into her grinning, glowing face as she slides next to me, dropping a possessive arm across my hip, pressing the still wet but now cold plastic appendage against my stomach. I’m filled with conflicting feelings. One part of me wants to melt against her in a post coital cuddle; another part wants to get out of bed, heck, out of the house as quickly as possible. The end result is I do nothing, just stay there as her left hand, which had been resting a little too firmly on my hip, slowly slides up the side of my body until she reaches my breasts, which she begins to gently knead, playing with my nipples, restarting the flow of sensations that I too willingly gave into last night and this morning.

“I’ve been wanting to do this ever since I first saw you naked in the shower after gym” she whispers.

“What’s that?” I whisper back.

“Touch you’re amazing breasts! They feel so firm but so … soft. How is that possible? And your nipples. I just want to …” She drops her head towards the nearest one, mouth open, tongue flicking out.

Oh no! Not again! Not now!

I push forward into her, rolling her on her back, the dildo now obscenely pointing up in the air. Opting for the cuddle puts any further sex on hold, for now. I lay against the side of her body as the hand that had been tantalizing my breast was now cupped behind my head, fingers lazily playing with my hair in a disturbingly familiar manner. The familiarity wasn’t what I had felt before but what I’d done before.

I’d done to dozens of women what Gretchen was doing to me, right now! She was taking the male role and I was taking the female role! Again, the conflicting feelings arise, part of me trying to think of the fastest way to escape and the other part looking longingly at the tower of plastic rising from Gretchen’s crotch and thinking of all the wonderful, delicious things I could do to it if it were flesh and blood.

Has Mom been playing with the settings of the Balancer? I know she wasn’t happy about what we were doing last night but unannounced changes to my settings had been taboo for some time. Practically speaking, there hasn’t been much difference between Twenty Five Blue and Twenty Five Pink for months. I’m only aware of the setting if it’s at the extreme and I was only at Pink Fifty that one time. It still makes me shudder to think about it.

“What are we going to tell our parents?”

Gretchen’s question brings my attention back to the current situation.

“Tell them about what?”

“That we’re lesbian lovers.”

OH CRAP! There’s the damage.

“Gretchen,” I say, quietly and calmly, “you aren’t a lesbian.”

“Of course I am. I had sex with a woman and I liked it. Didn’t you like it?”

“Yes. I liked it. A lot, a whole lot. It was amazing sex.”

She pulls my head closer to hers as she moves hers down and kisses me. She surprised me but I didn’t resist, not even when our tongues intertwine. She pulls back and smiles broadly.

“It was amazing for me too! Besides, you said that you’d been with other girls before. We’re both lesbians.”

“How many other girls have you been with, Gretchen?”

“None, but there’s always the first time. I’m just lucky it was with you.”

Flattering.

“Okay, how many other girls have you been attracted to?”

“Huh?”

“How many other girls have you looked at and said to yourself, ‘Boy, I’d really like to sleep with that one’?”

She doesn’t answer me, just frowns.

“Come on, I won’t feel hurt or anything, how many?”

She clenches her jaw, grinding her teeth slightly.

“None. But there’s nobody else like you!”

That’s certainly true. I wonder if she’s subconsciously picking up on my “inner male”.

“You got me there, but that’s not the point. If you were gay, there would have been some signs by now. Even if the girl wasn’t me, you’d have had a crush on some girl, maybe even a celebrity, by now. Besides, I saw how you checked out guy’s asses when we were at the Mall earlier. You were practically drooling.”

Her hand shoots up, covering her mouth.

“I’m sorry! It was instinctive! I didn’t mean to upset you!”

“It’s cool. I wasn’t hurt. And you’re right … it was instinctive. Sorry Gretchen, you’re as straight as a yard stick.”

“Then what about you?”

Yeah, what about me?

“Well … I might be bi-sexual.” At least while I’m in this body, darn hormones. “Too early to tell.”

“Maybe I’m bi-sexual too.”

“Maybe, but I wouldn’t bet on it.”

“So, if I’m not bi-sexual and I’m not gay, what was all last night and this morning about?”

Good question.

“Sometimes, girls … experiment. We’re more … mature, emotionally, than guys our age, more open to … new experiences. So, if the right two girls …” or five or six, “… meet and the timing’s good, this kinda thing can happen. There’s nothing wrong about it, happens all the time.”

“Sister Carmela would probably say it’s wrong.”

“True, but she’d say masturbating is wrong too. I don’t see that going away any time soon, do you?”

Gretchen laughs. “So, we tell our parents … what?”

“My mom already knows and we don’t say anything to your father.”

“Cool.” Her left hand slides over my hip, tenderly stroking my bottom. “What about us?”

I don’t stop her, letting her continue longer than I should.

“We’ll always have Paris.”

“What? Ohhh wait. That’s from … wait … ‘Casablanca’, right? Patty, I’m serious, what about you and me?”

“We’re still best friends, right?” I reply.

“The beeesssttt” she purrs.

“Then I’ll go to your house some weekends and you’ll come to mine other weekends.”

“I’d rather come to your house every weekend.” She kisses my forehead. “And every weekday.” She kisses my left cheek. “And after lunch.” The right cheek. “And after every class.” She leans in to kiss me full on the lips but I meet her halfway, hungry for her touch.

Eventually, I bring my hands up to the sides of her head and gently pull us apart.

“I’d like that too, Gretchen, but we can’t let your father get suspicious. Best we keep it half and half, for now at least.”

She gives me a quick peck on the nose.

“You’re right. You’re always right. Why are you always right? What do we do now?”

“I’d say we both need showers and then a good breakfast to recharge. I make tremendous French Toast.”

“How about showering together?”

“Not this time.”

“Afraid of what might happen?”

Darn tooting.

“We can save that for future visits.”

“After further … experimentation?”

“We’ll see.” She looks hurt, her big eyes sad and begging. “Okay. Probably.” She smiles hopefully. Why am I such a soft touch? “Fine, Yes.”

Gretchen jumps up out of bed, clapping her hands, the dildo bouncing all around in a very distracting and disturbing manner.

“Thank you! Thank you! Now, help me get this thing off. I don’t know how boys manage it.”

I hope Mom left us enough hot water.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Both Henry and Lou arrived right on time. Gretchen gave Mom a big hug and me a long lingering hug before eventually letting go, tears in both our eyes. She held my hand until the very last moment as the door shut, then waved madly at both of us through first the side and then the rear window until the car was out of sight as Mom and I stood, side by side, her arm round my waist, both returning her wave. We turn to walk back to the house, Mom’s arm still around my waist.

“That went well” I said.

“For you, certainly.”

“For you too. Gretchen really pitched in with the house cleaning today. She was the original white tornado.”

“She was that. I am willing to admit that I was completely wrong about her.”

“Really? So, you think she’s a nice person?”

“Very nice, surprisingly nice. Smart, hard working, funny, and, despite all odds, moral. I must give credit to the Catholic school system that they could take a girl with her … background and produce a child as outstanding as her.”

“You don’t give any credit to her father?”

“None.”

“Is it possible that she’s just putting on an act, to make you like her?”

“I could see right through something like that. I’m a professional. Besides, she’s exactly as you described her and you’ve known her for months. Is she fooling you also?”

“No … no, I don’t think so. It’s a shame we’re going to utterly destroy her.”

Mom stops in her tracks as I continue walking, her arm slipping away from my waist.

“WHAT?!” she cries.

I turn back to face her.

“What we’re doing here, you and I, going after Hobbes. If we succeed, it’ll destroy Gretchen’s life.”

“Certainly, it will cause changes in her life, she’ll need to find some place to live but I’m sure her family will …”

“There’s no other family, her father is it. Only child of only children.”

“Well, that’s unfortunate, but the State Welfare Agency will find her a place to stay. They do that kind of thing for the children of convicted criminals all the time. It’s all Hobbes’ fault. He should have considered that before getting in the drug dealing business.”

“You don’t understand. I’m not talking about the what, I’m talking about the how.”

“Come again?”

“It’s the nature of undercover work. Betrayal. You have a young, friendless girl, who, after years of emotional depravation, finally, finally seems to get what she’s been desperate to have all her life, a friend and a chance to live at least part of the time in what she thinks is a normal, loving home. Then, in one fell swoop, the entire world she has known is ripped away by the very people she thought she knew and trusted. She’ll know that she was deluded and double-crossed, the instrument of her father’s destruction and that the only reason her alleged friend had anything to do with her was to use her to get to her father. The entire thing will obliterate her.”

“Don’t you think that’s a little much?” she asks, uncertainly.

“No, not at all. I’ve seen it before, many times in fact, and always my fault. This time, it’s our fault, yours and mine. It’ll hit her like the bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki.”

“Surely, that’s a gross exaggeration.”

“Afraid not. Where do you think my nightmares come from? I’ve left a trail of shattered lives after every one of my assignments but the past damage is nothing compared to what will happen to Gretchen. I mean, come on, we knowingly targeted a young, emotionally immature and vulnerable girl, lied to and deceived her on the most basic level and we’ll use that phony relationship to take her life away, leaving her nowhere to go and no one to turn to. We’ll be lucky if she doesn’t kill herself within the week after Hobbes is arrested.”

“You KNEW this and you still had SEX with her?!”

“You KNEW this and you still treated her like a daughter?”

“I knew nothing of the sort!”

“I’m sorry, I thought you were the professional here. Did I make some kind of mistake in describing Gretchen before we showed up?”

“No … it was correct, as far as I …”

“And did I inaccurately describe our basic plan?”

She hesitated before answering me.

“You … you’re mostly correct.”

“Well then, Ms. Expert, you tell me what happens to girls like Gretchen when you befriend them, get them to like you, even love you, you embrace them, bring them into your family, give them a glimpse of their dreams and then ruthlessly rip it all away, revealing the entire exercise to be a cruel scam. What happens to girls like Gretchen?”

Mom grabs the iron railing and slumps down, sitting on the concrete block steps outside the kitchen door.

“What have we done?” she gasps, beginning to cry

I slowly take a seat next to her.

“Exactly what we started out to do. I told you up front that undercover work was a dirty business and you had to be prepared to do what was necessary. I wasn’t talking just about what ugly things we might be forced to do but the consequences of those ugly things. Gretchen is collateral damage … and there’s not a darn thing we can do about it … not if we follow the original plan.”

“But I didn’t know this might happen!”

“There’s no might about it, Mom. When the time comes, Gretchen’s life becomes an endless nightmare of our creation.”

She drops her head and sobs

“I … I … I … can’t … do something … like … I’m … not responsible for … not to an … an innocent girl … like …”

I pat her arm.

“Don’t worry. You’ll never forget what you did, it’ll haunt you till the day you die, particularly if she kills herself. I know all about that one. If we’re lucky, it’ll be a lifetime of therapy seeking self worth and abusive relationships with men. Or maybe prostitution.”

She groans quietly.

“I just wanted justice for my family, for my daughter.”

“I guess there’s a certain ‘eye for an eye’ quality to this.”

She raises her head, looking at me.

“How can you just sit there and accept this? She’s your FRIEND for God’s sake!”

“Hey! I didn’t say I was happy about it! Just because I saw this coming from day one and you didn’t doesn’t make it my fault alone. I didn’t create this by myself and I can’t fix it by myself.”

“Fix it? I thought you said there wasn’t a darn thing we could do about it.”

“IF we follow the original plan. Change the plan and we might be able to save Gretchen.”

“And still get Hobbes?”

“We can put him out of the drug business.”

“How do we do this?”

“Lipscomb won’t like it. Oh, I forgot to mention … Lipscomb nearly got both of us killed last Friday.”

“WHAT?! HOW?!”

“Don’t worry, I bought us some time. It actually may work out a lot better this way … gotta seize those opportunities when they present themselves.”

Mom’s starting to reel from information overload.

“I don’t understand, what has been going on?”

“I’ll explain later. What I need to know is if you’re willing to consider other options, options that won’t shatter Gretchen’s existence. Are you?”

She seems to have recovered a little from the bombs I’ve been dropping on her. Hoped she would.

“As a reasonable human being, what else can I say? Of course I will. What’s the first step?”

“I need to get Gretchen some more friends.”

CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN

It was at supper that it finally dawned on me.

Sister Rita has been in a particularly good mood all week. Not that she is normally in a bad mood. When we play good cop/bad cop on a student I’m always the bad cop, it’s a role that fits my natural temperament, just as the good cop fits hers. Acknowledging her natural inclinations, Rita has been even more upbeat than usual though.

“Sister Rita, you seem to be in a good mood tonight.”

“Am I, Sister Carmela?”

“I’ve noticed it too” chimed in Sister Elizabeth.

“It must be the basketball team.”

“My goodness, Sister Rita, I would think that group would cause exactly the opposite effect. I think you barely smiled twice last year during the season.”

“I really wasn’t aware of that, Sister Carmela. It must have been our record.”

“One and twenty two will do that to a person” snickered Sister Elizabeth.

Sister Rita just responds with a knowing smile, at first.

“I think we’ll do better than that this year, much better in fact.”

“Rita, I certainly hope your optimism is rewarded some day but, our basketball team has never amounted to a hill of beans.”

Her knowing smile grows larger. “Sister Carmela … I am barely able to suppress the temptation to make a wager with you. Do you remember the announcement I made over the PA last week, where I requested volunteers to join the program?”

“It was more like begged” chided Sister Elizabeth. “You only had nine girls total from four classes. We couldn’t even field a freshman team.”

“Well, my request was answered. Two girls came forward Monday and joined the team.”

“At least you can scrimmage now” I said. “Which two girls?”

“That was the astonishing thing. Guess.”

“Sister, we don’t have time to run through the entire …”

“Fine, don’t guess. Hobbes and Conner.”

“Gretchen Hobbes and Patricia Conner?” She just nods, still smiling. “How did they …”

“Ms. Conner just said they wanted to help out. As for Ms. Hobbes being allowed to play, Conner just said that Hobbes’ father owed her a favor.”

“That doesn’t sound good. How competent are they?”

“That’s why I didn’t want to say anything earlier. I thought we should get a few practices under our belt before passing judgment.”

“And?”

“Ever heard of the pick and roll?”

“Vaguely. It’s some kind of play, isn’t it?”

“Yes, a two man play. Hobbes and Conner can’t be stopped. I put four girls on them and they still score, practically every time. Hobbes is a demon on the boards, goes after every loose ball like it had her name on it. And Conner … pure greased lightning. I have never seen anyone dribble faster with more control. She’s like a waterbug, darting here and there. If you get open, she’ll hit you with a pass in seconds. More than one girl has been hit with the ball because they weren’t paying attention. A basketball to the face is a hard lesson but they’re learning quickly. Do you know, Conner was barking commands to everyone by the middle of her first practice … and everyone was following them!”

“I’m not surprised.”

“Me neither” added Sister Elizabeth. “She’s a nice girl and all, but there’s something just a little bit frightening about her. Others have noticed it too.”

“Let us hope that others are smart enough to not gossip about such things, Sister Elizabeth.”

“Certainly, Sister Carmela.”

Not that Elizabeth isn’t absolutely right about Conner.

“That may explain it” said Sister Rita, “but whatever it is, St. Ann’s has a basketball team to be proud of. We may even win a game in the Catholic Christmas Tourney this year, as long as we don’t draw St. Agnes in the first round.”

“Of course.”

“That goes without saying.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Usually it’s Lipscomb who calls a meeting but this time Jessica made the first contact. I’m never going to turn down an opportunity to give Patricia an exam.

She and Jessica arrived first and they were not in a good mood. Thankfully, I wasn’t the reason for that. Patricia was quite cooperative and we quickly moved through a series of tests. My initial analysis indicates that all the technology is still working exactly as designed. Her physical health is excellent, reflexes are off the chart, muscle tone very impressive. According to both of them, she has been working out and joined the school’s basketball team.

I’m not sure if that is a good idea. While I’d like to see how she performs, it would probably be better if Patricia kept a lower profile. As far as the progression of the integration of the two parts of higher brain, I will need to perform a more in-depth review of the data, however, there is nothing obviously worse than it was at the time of the prior exam.

Jessica is always nervous both before and during Patricia’s exams, though Patricia has almost always been calm and obliging. Today is no different. Jessica visibly relaxes after I give them my preliminary results. Just then, Lipscomb arrives.

The temperament of the room quickly changes. I’d noticed that Patricia had grown increasingly uncomfortable around him over the last few months, even to the point of avoiding him, but Jessica seemed consistently neutral in his presence. That was not the case this time.

Lipscomb stepped forward, unbuttoning his suit coat and pulling out a chair, preparing to sit down.

“I’m certainly glad to see that you are both …”

Jessica leapt up from her chair, viciously backhanding Lipsomb across the face, sending him backwards. He landed on his ass then sprawled across the floor on his back. He reached out with his right hand, touching his face where Jessica had struck him.

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT ABOUT?!” he sputtered.

As he struggled to get up, Patricia came around the table, placed her foot on his chest and pushed him back to the ground.

“Stay down” she growled.

There was anger in his eyes but he did what she said. Jessica wasn’t done with him. She bent down at the waist, pointing her finger in his face.

“I supported you! I told Patricia she should give you the information! You promised to keep it safe! We’re all lucky to be alive, you BASTARD!”

“I had nothing to do with it!” Lipscomb protested. “My boss, Tyson, he told me it was my job if I didn’t give him the info. I had no idea what he planned, none at all! I was as shocked as you were when I found out what had happened. I was out of the loop, I tell you. The first I heard of it was the morning TV news.”

“And yet, you still didn’t try to warn us, even then you … piece of crap” hissed Jessica.

“It was too late.”

“How did you know it was too late? Patricia walked right into Hobbes’ house after 3:30. I didn’t leave work until 5:15. If you found out in the morning, there was still plenty of time to do something.”

“Not if we were going to follow protocols. I’d have had to leave you a sign at the diner at lunch, then you’d have had to …”

“OUR COVER WAS BLOWN! FUCK PROTOCALS! You just left us to swing in the wind!”

“Clearly your cover wasn’t blown, otherwise you wouldn’t be here now.”

“No thanks to you! Patricia saved all our lives.”

“How?”

“Like we’re ever going to tell you anything ever again” Jessica scornfully spat.

“Wait a minute! This wasn’t my fault! I was betrayed just as much as you were! Tyson promised he wouldn’t do anything to put you at risk! He never gave me a heads up of any kind. I was blindsided!”

All this time, Patricia had remained silent, letting Jessica take the lead, but now she squatted down next to Lipscomb.

“Mom’s upset about all this because she believed you. She’s feeling a bit let down right now. I, on the other hand, expected something like this might happen. You think Tyson betrayed you? Take it up with him. It was your job to protect us from your end. No screw ups, no surprises. You say you were out of the loop? Now you are. We’ll call you when we’re ready to finish this job. You don’t call us. It may be weeks, it may be months, doesn’t matter. When we’re ready, we’ll drop the dime. Until then, you just keep paying the bills.”

Patricia had spoken quite firmly and calmly. Lipscomb had pushed himself up on his elbows as she had talked. He wasn’t happy.

“Just who do you think you are? This is my operation and we will do as I …”

Patricia stood up, intentionally stepping on Lipscomb’s hand as she did.

“I’m sorry, did I leave the impression that this was a negotiation? It isn’t. This is the way it’s gonna be. Either that, or I walk into that room, Matthews puts Peter Harris back in his old body and we all go home … Your choice. Right now.”

She still had her foot on his hand. Now, she pressed harder on it. Lipscomb winced as the pressure increased. Eventually, he nodded his head vigorously. She lifted her foot from his hand.

“I’ll take that as an unforced and voluntary free will ‘yes’. Get off the floor.”

Lipscomb slowly stood up, rubbing his hand. He was glaring at Jessica and Patricia, Jessica was glaring back. Patricia was ignoring him.

“Two things before we leave, Lipscomb. I do have a plan, it’s already in place, I just need a certain set of circumstances to implement it. When those circumstances happen, I’ll pull the trigger. Second, you should soon be inundated with tips about where you can find enormous stashes of drugs. You can take all the credit you want for it. Just make sure you figure out a way to successfully raid those places. The success of our operation depends on it. Apparently, your boss Tyson is a clever man. I’d let him handle it if I were you. Ready to leave, Mom?”

Jessica picked up her purse from the table.

“Yes, let’s go before I do something I’ll regret. We’ll be in touch, Thomas.”

They both walk out while Lipscomb dusts himself off. Once he finishes, I offer him a glass of water.

“Has something happened?” I ask.

Lipscomb’s reply really isn’t worth repeating.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Matthews had a cold compress, which I held to my cheek as I drove back to the Federal building. After I parked the car, I slipped it into my coat pocket and hurried to my office. Lunch hour hadn’t passed yet, so I was ahead of the returning crowd, managing to reach my office without encountering anyone I knew, avoiding the need to explain my swollen face.

Once I got back to my office, I closed the door and reapplied the compress. It stung initially but started feeling better immediately. I sat it on my desk and started searching through the drawers, looking for a bottle of Advil that I was certain I had left here. My head was down below the desk top as I rummaged through the bottom drawer when I heard my door open. I looked up. It was Tyson.

“Daniel, I just wanted to … whoooaaa, what happened to you?” he asked, grinning like a fool.

“Nothing, just an accident.”

He stepped closer, turning his head to get a better look.

“So, who accidentally hit you? I can see the finger marks from here. Must have been a woman, men generally don’t slap.”

“It was an accident.”

He shrugged. “If you say so, just as long as it wasn’t someone in the office. It wasn’t, was it?”

“No.”

He sighs in relief. “Good. I just dropped by to arrange to meet your team. We need to make sure they get as much credit as safely possible for their work. It may not be public recognition, circumstances being what they are, but their information made the largest group of seizures in US history possible and this office will not let that go unrewarded.”

“Uhhh, that may not be possible right now.”

“Why not?”

“They … decided to stay in.”

“What?!”

“I warned them, told them what you were planning but they decided to ride it out. I couldn’t talk them out of it.”

“That’s suicidal!”

“I know, I know but it seems they were right. You need to get ready for some more tips about other caches, big ones.”

“As big as the last group?”

“Maybe, maybe bigger.”

“MY GOD! How is that possible?”

“I’m … I’m afraid I can’t tell you, not yet at least.”

“I understand. Secrecy is security. I can’t even imagine how to use the information. We were blind lucky last time, just a fortuitous set of circumstances.”

“You’ll think of something Walter, you’re a clever guy.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

I was scheduled to meet with Hobbes at 11:00 this morning. We are supposed to talk about the timing of the tips to the Feds about our competitor’s merchandise storage. It was harder to get that information than I first thought it would be. Some I already knew but we want to be thorough. The more inventory they lose, the more valuable mine is and the less I will need to corner the various markets. Hobbes and I decided to expand Conner’s original idea and add Europe and the Far East. It will cause further disruptions and reduce the available supplies that could quickly be redirected to the US.

Our reputation has already taken a big hit. That was the primary reason I had such a hard time getting the information I wanted. Three months ago, people were falling all over themselves to ingratiate themselves with me. They all wanted to be associated with number one, maybe not publicly if you worked for the other side, but they all wanted in, one way or another.

Now, I am being treated as the poor relative, begging with hat in hand. Luckily, I have records of the prior contacts. Anyone working for the Potosi or Tijuana cartels can’t afford to have their entreaties to Hobbes known by their current employers. That, and a little cash, got me the rest of the information I needed.

I knock on Hobbes’ door, opening it as soon as the bolts withdraw.

“Come in Enrique, have a seat. Do you want some coffee?”

“No, thank you. I’ve had all the coffee I can drink these last two weeks.”

“Nothing stronger, I hope?”

“No … nothing stronger. Don’t worry, we both know I would never sample the product. Neither of us are as foolish as our American customers.”

“It is good to know you are keeping your head in the right place. What news?”

“We are ready to begin, and the sooner, the better. Some people need to be shown who is boss. If we delay any longer, somebody may think it is time to take us on directly.”

“I’m certain both Carrillo and Beltran are planning to do exactly that. I agree, it is time to give them other things to think about. As for timing, which of our competitors is going to benefit the most from our troubles?”

An astute question. “I would say Tijuana. They’re in a better position to replace us on the West coast.”

“Patricia suggested we initially target who ever could hurt us most.”

Conner. Again. Always Conner.

“When did she suggest this, X-ray?”

“Last week, when she asked if Gretchen could join the school basketball team. I tell you Enrique, if she were a boy, I would insist she marry Gretchen. To have a mind like hers in the family, it would be such an asset.”

“X-ray … I don’t wish to minimize Conner’s contribution to our plans but she …”

“She created this plan, Enrique.”

“She came up with a general scheme; I put the details in place. I provided the information to make it work. Who is to say we wouldn’t have decided to do exactly the same thing on our own, without any help from your daughter’s young friend?”

“Did you have any idea remotely similar to hers before she suggested it?”

“No, but I had very little time to consider our options.”

“Neither did I, but she created this ‘scheme’ in less than one hour, without any detailed knowledge of my business.”

“It was our idea to expand to other countries.”

“And how long did it take us to think of that? Three days! I don’t blame you, Enrique. Patricia Conner is a natural business genius. She is Mozart and we are Salieri. It is a simple as that.”

I refuse to bow to the alleged genius of a teenage girl! Clearly, her ideas have merit plus a certain ruthlessness … which I certainly can appreciate … but I would have eventually reached the same conclusions as she did, I just needed the time. We were all in shock. She had no pressure of any kind. With such an advantage, it’s no surprise she thought of a solution mere seconds before I would have done exactly the same! However, Hobbes is not prepared to listen to any criticism of his current infatuation.

“Enrique … I know that this isn’t the appropriate time, but when we are passed our current difficulties, I plan to … diversify the business.”

“Another suggestion of Ms. Conner’s?”

“No, not directly, but, in talking with her, she has made me realize that I have other options than the ones I have been pursuing all my adult life. Other famous men started out similarly to me and they ended up leaving great legacies, buildings named after them, even colleges. I am still a young man; there are other things I could do.”

“What are you saying, X-ray?”

“I started this business to make money, not because I particularly liked selling drugs. It was just a way to quick profits. There is nothing to say that I can’t be just as successful in other businesses.”

Oh, she has really gotten to him, the fool! What is he going to do? Become a dry cleaner, open a restaurant, sell fruit from a wagon? We are drug dealers, it is what we do! And we do it well, better than anyone before us or anyone after us once we are long dead.

“When do you plan to make these changes, Raymond?”

“Certainly not until I have regained all I have lost. I may decide to leave the business but no one will toss me out. I decide my own fate. Once I am back on top, then I will do as I please. With Patricia’s help, that may be much sooner than everyone expects.”

I agree. Once I am back on top, changes will need to be made … perhaps even sooner than that.

CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT

I had snuck down from my office after school to watch today’s practice. I was standing just outside the door so as to not cause any distraction.

The girls are running some kind of passing drill, running up and down the court, passing the ball, not dribbling, until a girl shoots a lay up, then they go right back up the court, doing the same thing. The next group of five girls repeats the drill.

Over and over again, running and passing. If a player drops the ball, the entire group goes back and starts over again. It’s tiring just to watch them. All the girls are breathing hard, leaning forward, grasping the edges of their shorts when they aren’t in the drill.

All except Conner.

She participates in each and every round, taking no breaks. She plays defense, running around, trying to steal the ball or at least get a hand on it, which she does about every fourth trip. When she does, she stops the action and points out what the player should have done, either the passer or the girl who was the target, sometimes demonstrating herself. Sister Rita is under one basket providing token defense and there is a volunteer coach, Mrs. Willis I think, doing the same at the other end. This continues for at least fifteen minutes before Rita blows her whistle, bringing all the girls to the center of the court.

“All right girls! Good practice today, very good! I want you all to split up, first five to the left, second five to the right. Once you have made six consecutive free throws, you can hit the showers.”

A general “Aaaawwwww” of disappointment echoes around the gym, but the girls do as they are told. Conner rips off six straight baskets but doesn’t leave, staying to help the next girl in line until she gets her six, rebounding and encouraging her all the time. Rita and Willis are at the other basket, doing the same.

Once the last girl hits her sixth straight free three, she trots off the floor, leaving the two coaches and Conner standing at mid court.

“This isn’t working, Sister” said Conner.

“Why not, the entire team’s free throw average is up twenty percent, not counting yours, of course.”

“I know, but the idea is to have them shoot while they’re tired, breathing hard. We need more baskets, ideally one per girl. Now, by the time the second girl gets her six straight, the rest of them have all caught their breath. We’re trying to replicate free throws at the end of the game, when they really count and are the hardest to hit.”

“We could have the other girls keep running laps” suggested Willis.

“It might work, but the way Debbie shoots, we’d have half the team collapse at the end of each day. Even cheap, portable baskets would do.”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Conner” consoled Rita, “there’s simply no money in the athletic budget. If we do well this year, maybe next year, who knows.”

“I understand, Sister. I’ll think of something. All the girls will be at my house tonight. We’re doing an overnight before the game tomorrow morning. You’re invited, if you want to come.”

“Why are you doing that?”

“It’s a team building exercise, makes us more of a unit, we’re all sisters, that kinda thing. Helps bring the classes together too.”

“Why your house?”

“It was my idea and Mom was willing to put up with it. If it works, we’ll rotate around, a different girl each week. It won’t work for every game due to scheduling, but the girls want to give it a try.”

“Are you certain it won’t develop into an all night party and no one gets any sleep?”

“Not at my house, it won’t.”

“I’ll leave it up to you, Captain.”

“Thanks, Sister. See you at school tomorrow.”

Conner runs off to the locker room, Willis following her at a somewhat slower pace. Sister Rita walks around the gym, collecting the balls and putting them in a big, mesh bag she’s dragging behind her. I step into the gym, pick up a ball that is sitting next to the door and throw it towards Sister Rita. She immediately looks my way when she hears the ball bounce.

“Sister Carmela! You startled me.”

“Sorry, I just wanted to watch your practice for awhile, check out the team. I don’t remember seeing that particular drill in the past.”

“You didn’t. It’s something Ms. Conner suggested. It’s supposed to duplicate a fast break, getting the ball to the basket quickly.”

“I don’t recall seeing many fast breaks last year … or the year before … or the year before that.”

“That was then, this is now.”

“They seemed to have a problem getting past Ms. Conner.”

“Oh, that was a dramatic improvement. At first, nothing got past her. In all honesty, she’s backed off a bit to give the other girls a chance.”

“Is that the proper approach, limiting the difficulty of the task?”

“Trust me, it’s tough enough. They won’t see any tougher this year, St. Agnes included. And they have improved quite a lot. There’s hope that they’ll get better. Tomorrow’s game against Jeffersonville will be an interesting test. They have some tall girls so Hobbes will have to work hard.”

“I noticed she ran the floor well in that drill.”

“Plus she’s in good shape. I do need to rest her occasionally but, by and large, she could outrun most girls her height. That’s why we were practicing fast breaks, get Hobbes out and running, beating the other tall girls down the court. You should see the ball move when Conner’s on offense instead of defense, makes the hairs on your arm stand up.”

“I look forward to the game at Jeffersonville.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

No matter the logic, I find it difficult to give tips to the police. The only consolation is that it benefits me more than it does them.

How did Conner come up with this plan so quickly? It was as if she had advance notice. But, if she was a spy, coming back to the compound knowing that the raids had taken place would be extremely foolish. Unless she was after something else, something more important. What would be worth that great a risk? None of this makes any sense … which only concerns me more.

My only choice is to keep a close watch on her, at least until I can discover what she’s up to or I can put her to a better use … which reminds me.

I pick up my radio.

“Riley, where is Escaban?”

“Working the West side, Mr. Cardoza.”

“Send Jackson to relieve him and send Escaban to me.”

“Yes, Sir.”

While I wait for Escaban, I run through the list of people I could use to leak my accumulated information to the Miami Federal Prosecutor. It would probably be best to be more than one, it will seem more believable. Three will be just about right I would think. There’s a knock at my door.

“Come in, Tony.”

The door opens and Escaban slips in, quickly checking out the room as he does. He does that every time, which is a point in his favor. I can’t afford sloppy associates.

“You call me, Mr. Cardoza?”

“Yes, Tony. What progress on finding someone to take care of our Conner situation?”

“There’s a guy who’d like to move up in the organization. He figures that you owing him a favor will help.”

“We’ll see about that. Do you think he’s reliable?”

“Yeah, reliable enough.”

“Is he capable?”

“He’s got people. How good do they need to be? She’s a little girl.”

“She’s more than that. If you can’t recognize it, you’re of no value to me.”

“Fine, she’s smarter than your average girl, maybe more athletic too, but come on, against an armed adult? Not a chance.”

“To be safe, have your man’s man find a friend, maybe two.”

“THREE guys for one girl? Are you serious?”

“I want her sliced and diced. A knife is more personal than a gun, more intimate. One can be a look out. I want this to be done right, no mistakes. An extra man just gives a greater margin for error.”

“Or another man to squeal should they be caught.”

“That’s a consideration, but if you think they are incompetent enough to be caught, we shouldn’t use them at all, don’t you think?”

“Just thinking about all the possibilities. When do you want this done?”

“Not yet. There is still more to learn from her. Just have your man find some people and be ready when called.”

“Okay.” He turns to leave, but stops. “Did you know that Hobbes was going to his daughter’s game tonight?”

More of Conner’s insidious influence.

“No, I was not aware of it. How do you know?”

“Jackson mentioned it when he relieved me, told me to hurry back ‘cause he was one of the guards going to the game.”

Every where I turn, this cursed girl undermines every thing I have done in the last twenty years!

“I’ll speak to Hobbes, you go back to your post.”

“Yes, sir.”

It only takes a few minutes to walk over to the main house. There are ten guards, including most of the senior men, gathered outside with three cars lined up in the driveway by the front door. They are all smiling and joking, like this is some kind of outing.

When I reach Hobbes’ office, he is just stepping out the door.

“What is all this about, Raymond?”

He looks sheepish, like a young boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Ahhhh Enrique … I was hoping to leave without you knowing about it.”

“I know everything that happens in this house, that is why you pay me.”

“You’re right, of course. I just do not see the harm in going to see my own daughter’s basketball game. It has been years since there has been an attempt on my life. I’m taking the best men I have. If what I’ve been told is right, we may outnumber the other fans. The risk is minimal.”

“But there is a risk. Why take the chance for something as unimportant as a high school girls game?”

“Because it is my daughter, Enrique. If you had children, you’d understand. Besides, there is a certain amount of risk in everything we do. What is the use of living a life without enjoying it? I have been kept prisoner in this house for too long!”

“Is that what I am, your jailer? Is that how you think of me?”

“NO! Of course not! It was just something that Patricia said. I know that you are a loyal friend who has my best interest at heart but sometimes …”

“Sometimes what?”

“You can be over protective. What is the use of having all that I have if it causes me to live hidden away from all that I find enjoyable. There is only so much of life that can exist inside these four walls, Enrique. If I have to live like this for the rest of my life … well, maybe some changes need to be made.”

I can see Conner’s fingerprints all over this change in attitude. I had him afraid of his own shadow and now he wants to prowl the streets. With ten guards in tow but, before Conner, the thought would never have occurred to him.

“X-ray, it is your life. You must live it your way, but, it is because of my advice in the past that you have a life to live. Heed my warnings, please. Stay safe at home. If you want to see the game, send one of the men to videotape it.”

“Enrique, no one uses videotape anymore. It is all digital today.”

“I don’t care! They can record it however you want, you can watch wherever you want, however you want, in the safety of your own home.”

He reaches out, patting me on my shoulder with his right hand.

“My old friend, I know you mean well, but I have made up my mind. I am going to the game. Don’t wait up.”

With that, he brushes past me and out the door. Seconds later, I hear all the cars start and pull away from the house, heading for the front gate.

Perhaps I should have Conner’s death recorded, digital or otherwise.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Patricia is clearly upset. All the girls were, but Patricia more so. She’s sitting in the passenger side of the front seat, pushed in as deep as possible, arms crossed, teeth grinding, staring straight ahead. It’s just her and I left now, we’ve already dropped Cassie and Lynne off.

“That fourth foul was completely bogus!” she spat.

“I know, but you can’t really expect to get away with reaching between a girl’s legs from behind to steal a ball.”

“It was a clean steal!”

“I know, but most refs have never seen it done before. The knee jerk reaction is to call a foul.”

“Jerk is right. We should have won that game.”

“Honey, I know, but was that really the purpose of all this? I thought the sleep over was a big success. Everyone enjoyed themselves and Gretchen got along well with the entire team.”

“Everybody’s happier when they win. Some victories will make this work better.”

“And give your ego a big boost.”

“Hey! I’m holding back out there! I’m playing it straight, just your average point guard.”

“Three for six from behind the three point line, and your three misses went straight to Gretchen for easy put backs. Are you really that accurate?”

“You want the truth? It’s that hummingbird thing all over again. I can go where I want, when I want and I don’t think anyone can stop me. Shooting is amazingly simple. I told Gretchen it was all about the math and it really is. I can practically see the path of the ball before I shoot. I’ve got perfect control until it leaves my hand. It would have been great to have these capabilities back when I was in high school.”

“You’d have been a star.”

“Ya got that right, Mom.”

“So what’s to prevent you from becoming a star now?”

“You know we can’t afford that, it’d just complicate things.”

“What’s your plan?”

“Set up other people, hit enough shots to keep em honest.” She shakes her head and sighs. “If we’d just hit our darn free throws at the end, we’d have won!”

“I know, honey.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

I’m still upset when I get to school on Saturday morning for practice. Gretchen’s waiting for me at the gym door, smiling. Maybe it’d because I’m going to her house after practice for the weekend. At least at her house, there won’t be any repeat of what happened at mine.

“Hey, Gretch.”

“Hey, Patty.”

“Gosh, this stinks.”

She opens the door and we walk into the locker room.

“What stinks?”

“Three points. Three lousy points! We had a ten point lead in the second half for God’s sake!”

“You know how long it’s been since St. Ann’s lost by only three points?”

“No.”

“Like … forever. The only game we won last year was by forfeit. The closest we came was something like fifteen, thirteen, maybe twelve points, and that’s only because they put their scrubs in.”

I look around the room as the girls change into practice gear. They’re all happy, upbeat, practically celebrating. I hadn’t hung around after the game yesterday, too pissed off.

Terri walks up to me, twisting her hair into a ponytail.

“Some game last night, captain.”

I drop my bag on the nearest bench.

“What the heck is this all about? We LOST last night.”

“I know,” replied Terri. “Last year, the same team beat us by twenty five and they were mostly Juniors and Sophomores. I don’t know how we kept it so close.”

There’s a general nodding of heads around the room. I better put an end to this now.

“Guys, we had a ten point lead in the fourth quarter. You should never give up a ten point lead.”

“That was when you got your fourth foul” said Waymire.

“I don’t care who got what foul, we don’t give up ten point leads. You keep playing hard, no matter what the lead, no matter who’s on the floor. If you get ahead of a team, you put your foot on their throat and squeeze the life out of them. You don’t let them back into a game! We are not going to give up a ten point lead ever again. Does everybody understand that?!”

“We’re not used to having any leads, of any kind” said Burks.

“Well, BeeBee, you better get used to it, because it won’t be our last. And when we get a lead we’re gonna keep it, no matter who’s on the court. You can always play defense, defense is just effort, working harder than the other guy. We can defend against anybody.”

“Except St. Agnes” mumbled Rodgers.

“Except NOBODY, Lynne. NOBODY! We work harder than they do, we can shut them down, we can shut anybody down. Play hard, move your feet, get into position, don’t foul …”

Gretchen coughs several times then holds up four fingers. She’s a real B word sometimes.

“Fine, yes, I took too many stupid chances, though that fourth foul was totally bogus! However, as it has been pointed out to me … repeatedly, I shouldn’t expect to get that call, even if I don’t foul, so, in the future, nothing crazy.”

By now, all the girls, in various stages of dress, have drawn near to me.

“From here on out, no moral victories. We’re here to win games and that’s what we’re gonna do. We play hard, we play smart, we’re gonna win.” I slowly scan the room, making sure to look each girl in the eyes. “Everybody got that?” There’s a general unenthusiastic nodding of heads. “Good, then let’s get out there and get started.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

When I get out of practice, Mom’s parked in the lot, waiting for me. Usually, she’s got a book to read but not today. Today, she’s listening to something on the radio. I open the door, startling her.

“What’s up?”

“Ssshhh, listen to this.”

She reaches out, turning up the volume as I slide in next to her.

“… nearly the same quantities as those seized in the record raids earlier this month. In a brief statement, Walter Tyson, Chief Federal Prosecutor for this District had this to say.

‘The days of easy smuggling across the United States’ borders are over. You bring illegal drugs into the US; we will find them, seize them and prosecute you.’

Mr. Tyson declined to answer any questions at this time, including whether or not more raids were planned.

Kim Kardashian is in town today to promote her line of marital aids. She is appearing at … ”

Mom flipped off the radio.

“Hey! I was interested in that!”

“Don’t be crude. Was that your handiwork?”

I scratch my nose.

“Probably. It should just be the beginning. I sure hope this works.”

“You aren’t certain?!”

“No, how could I be? There’s a lot that could go wrong. The economics are sound, it’s the execution that’s dicey. We’re relying on a number of other people to do their respective jobs. There’s no guarantee they can or will. Logically, it should all go as planned, but people aren’t always logical … or predictable. But, so far, so good.”

“Guess all we can do is wait and see.”

“Yep.”

“How was practice?”

“Good, very good. They all got the message. Now it’s just a matter of me not letting them forget it.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Hobbes picked up the remote and muted the television. We had been listening to the most recent news program about the latest string of drug seizures, the ones we had provided the police with information about. Hobbes had a tight smile on his face.

“It is a strange feeling, Enrique. Helping the authorities is not something I am yet used to.”

“I know what you mean, X-ray.”

“The more important thing is what is the effect? What are prices on the street doing?”

“They’ve reacted faster than gasoline prices. The costs to the sellers hasn’t risen at all yet and prices have doubled, purely on speculation.”

“The speculation is correct, how high will they go?”

“Who knows? If we are successful, possibly a ten fold increase. We are entering unknown territory.”

“And a little girl shall lead us.”

“Raymond, I still object to your slavish devotion to Conner’s general …”

“Ahhh Enrique, credit where credit is due. I do not mean to diminish your contributions to the plan, the devil is always in the details after all, but we must not deny the fact that Patricia Conner is the author of our salvation.”

“Potential salvation.”

“So far, yes, only a potential salvation, but the trends are improving. I have communicated with the managers of all our manufacturing facilities in the last two days. They have all assured me that production can be increased.”

“They may be telling you what the think you want to hear.”

“They all know that I will hold them to their promises, so it is not in their interest to lie to me. We can refill our pipeline quickly, the problem is, where do we put it once we get it across the border?”

“There has been no progress in finding the source of the leak. You have had me busy with … other tasks.”

Hobbes waves his hand, dismissively. “I’m not worried about it, for now. All of our warehouses were not raided so, we can assume the authorities do not know about those they did not raid.”

“Not a safe assumption.”

“Then what are we to do? Success depends upon restocking before our competitors can. We can not rely on simply knocking them down, we must rebuild!”

“Are you certain that we are not being setup, to put all our efforts and remaining resources into re-supplying and then we get raided again, finishing us off, once and for all?”

“And who is the mastermind behind this devious plan? Patricia Conner?”

“You said it yourself, she is a very smart girl.”

“Enrique, listen to yourself! She doesn’t know the first thing about the details of our operations.”

“That we know of.”

“So now she must prove a negative to make you happy? How can she prove what she doesn’t know? And how does she benefit from the collapse of my business? If she hadn’t stepped up, we would have collapsed anyway.”

“That’s not true! I’m sure we could have done something to …”

“What? What would you have suggested we do, Enrique? You have had weeks to come up with an alternative, please, tell me what your brilliant plan is.”

“I would first discover the identity of our informant.”

“And then do what, ask the police to return our merchandise? Yes, the informant is a problem, one I expect you to concentrate upon once my business is saved, but saving that business is my first priority. How would you do that, Enrique?”

He has me there. Everything I have been able to think of is a variation on Conner’s suggestions, something Hobbes will gleefully point out to me. He is so enraptured by this girl, he can not, or will not, see the danger we are in. I can’t answer his question.

“No plan Enrique? None? Don’t blame yourself, I couldn’t come up with one either. I am not a fool, Enrique, no matter what you might think. There are risks here, large ones, but they are calculated risks. Besides, what other choices do we have?” He slaps me on the back several times while ushering me to the door. “You keep on knocking our competitors down while I concentrate on building us back up. God willing, we will come out of these troubles better than before.”