Joanie's jury duty ends spectacularly. She makes new friends and enemies, maybe. The spring session ends. Joanie makes plans for summer. A new woman will be joining the staff in July, from Egypt. Carson gives out details. Joanie brushes up on her Steve Martin tunes. She and Suzy ride a train and tease the boys.

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

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

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

(http://www.sapphireplace.com/stories/whateley.html), The Crystal Hall (http://www.crystalhall.org), or the Big Closet (http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/taxonomy/term/117)."

Here’s another chapter in part four of my TG/sci-fi/superhero/magic/one-size-fits-all epic. It’s not that bad; I do have an overall story arc in mind, honest. I’m much better than when I started this, though my grammar and spelling remain flawed; ask Itinerant if he is still coherent. (wibble - WIBBLE!!) Not recovered yet? Time for the horse pistol, I mean the hospital. (Running off to a more stable state of mind. Horse! Stable! That's a Joke, Son!)

Your constructive criticism and advice continues to help. This is an exercise in the joys of creativity and in appreciation of the wonderful Whateley Universe. Any violations of copyright, trade mark or use of real people or incidents are purely for purposes of humor or parody and done solely for the free enjoyment of the reading public. All rights reserved in perpetuity, John from Wauwatosa WI, 2005-2008.

Adult content advisory: this chapter contains situations and topics unsuitable for young minds or your sanity. There is also some adult content written by a middle-age juvenile mind. You were warned.

Timeout 4

By John from Wauwatosa
Verb verification by Itinerant, verily
Special thanks to Paula Dillon for advice
Jennifer Marie Stevens comes courtesy of Bob Arnold. As to mixing the Zapped and Whateley universes, I have no problems with it. Bob has no problem. This is fan fic and if it still worries you, think of this as this an alternative universe. I mean, it worked for Star Trek TM so...

Chapter 10.5, AKA Chapter 11, *Mothers’* Day 3, Hang um High 2, DON’T PANIC 2, You BET Your Life-She’s Got the Look, The Desert Song, On the Road Again

Whateley Academy, Dunwich NH, Boston MA and points in route to Chicago May 25-June 01, 2007

May 25, 2007, Friday

~~Yes, Joanie?~~

~~Did *WE* have anything to do with that reporter’s mysterious illness?~~

~~He was a threat to you and your friends. You wished for this to happen. He will recover unharmed.~~

~~I didn’t mean it! I mean, I thought it, but I wouldn’t hurt him unless he tried to hurt someone.~~

~~But, Joanie, I am certain you wished it. I heard clearly ‘I wish that jerk would shut up. What an idiot!’ I did as you willed, I had no choice. I could feel the spell forming around you. I could not stop it, I could only alter it. I insured it was temporary. It has worn off, as you would wish. You are a kind human and wish to harm no one~~ I blushed at her compliment.

~~I did this? I used magic on someone?~~

~~I am not sure. It may be us both, together; your will accessing my magic skills. This let you tap your magical shell.~~

~~I need to get some training and quick, even if it’s only to avoid accidentally doing something like this. This is very bad. What if I get angry or scared and wish something terrible to happen. I could have wished him dead or changed into a pile of crap or a real dick hea …~~

My anger at myself dissipated at once, and I started giggling. The image of that reporter with his head shaped like a giant … I can’t say it or I’ll start giggling. I couldn’t stop laughing; I could hardly breathe. It was right out of one of those crude jokes thirteen-year-old guys like to gross each other out with. The ones where an overly aggressive man insults a witchdoctor or a voodoo priestess. Hey, I was in both the Y and the Scouts; I heard a lot of them.

The students around me must have thought I was on something. Here’s Joanie eating quietly by herself, and moments later she is giggling uncontrollably for no apparent reason. I quite literally fell out of my seat. I was lucky didn’t wet myself. I slowly wound down and regained control, or so I thought.

I climbed back in my seat and returned to my breakfast — BIG mistake. I’d selected a classic American style breakfast; it was going to be a long time before lunch at the courthouse. My tray held coffee, OJ, toast, eggs and …

“Sausages!”

I gave my tray to a hungry-looking student with my compliments and bought a breakfast empanada and a coffee to go.

~~I am not cut out for celibacy. Eric, grow up fast. Please!~~

* * * *

We, Miki and I, arrived nice and early in Berlin. I walked the few blocks to the courthouse and into a pack of reporters. Some were there following up on Mr.. P. K. Dick’s baffling illness. All were there to make my life miserable.

“Joanie, are you on a jury?”

“What happened last night between you and Philip K. Dick.?”

“Did you use some weird mutant power on him?”

“What’s with the weasel on your back?”

I restrained myself, barely, until I heard weasel.

“WEASEL!” I lost it. Then I got it back. I have all the emotional stability of a yo-yo at times.

~~Miki, time for your introduction to society. Open the carrier and get up on my shoulder. If we *play* this right, the press will think you’re a trained pet -- no offense intended. Plus you are so damned cute, how can they not fall in love with you, my little debutant? ~~ Miki giggled back mentally to me. We have a similar sense of humor. The reporters were surprised, and a few gasped as she opened the carrier and climbed out.

“My friend, Miki, is not a weasel. She is an Indian/Javan mongoose that I have the honor of caring for. As you may know, mongooses are restricted from import to Americabecause of the potential for environmental harm should they breed in the wild. Due to an extraordinary set of circumstances, she came into my care. I have all the required papers and exemptions for Miki to be here legally, and I take my responsibility seriously. Take a bow, Miki.” She bowed deeply while balanced on my shoulder and had the crowd won over.

Somebody had to ask, “Why do you own a mongoose? That’s an exotic, and as you say potentially dangerous to the environment. Why not donate her to a zoo or have her humanely put down?”

“Hey, I don’t like reporters, but I don’t advocate locking them up or euthanizing them … usually.” I smiled like a tigress eying a herd of deer she’s cornered. The news people laughed nervously, and the reporter looked rattled. “I don’t own her so much as we have adopted each other. Her previous human died, and she was left all alone. She chose me, to be honest. Sometimes I think I’m her pet. She does not like us being apart, so I got permission to bring her with me. As long as I’m around, she is content, even in crowds. She's fastidious, litter trained and she makes an exceptional watch … mongoose,” I snickered softly.

“Please go back into your carrier, Miki.” She scampered back into the carrier and zipped it shut. The reporters laughed until she zipped it shut; that shocked them.

“She’s quite clever; I’m thinking of having her do my taxes. I have to go or I’ll be late -- excuse me,” I said and walked past them.

* * * *

My fellow jurors were far friendlier today, now that the ice was broken. Many wanted my autograph, so I set up at a work table to minimize disturbing those who wished for quiet. The first call for jurors came and went without my being named. The demand for autographs being satisfied, I moved into the auditorium to watch TV; it was too difficult to study. They had the cable TV tuned to one of those nature channels, the ones that show film of humpback whales, shows with crazy Australians handling dangerous animals, and documentaries with film of animals mating. I dreaded what was likely to come on and it was not that poor man dying in a freak accident with a stingray, though knowing the *refined* tastes of TV programmers, seeing *that* was a given. My fear was …

”The typical male feline will mate with a receptive female anywhere from fifteen to thirty times in the span of a few hours.”

That subject was one I already was obsessed with. I did not need more gasoline thrown on the fire. When the show did start I felt relieved. ~~It’s not as bad as I feared. Hey, Miki, this might interest you. Meerkat Manor is coming on.~~

~~Meerkat?~~

~~They are a kind of small mongoose that live in Africa.~~

~~Mongoose? I will watch.~~

* * * *

Partway through the show, we were interrupted to pull another jury from the pool. I got called this time. Miki kept watching the TV; her eyes were locked on the screen. She didn’t go back into her carrier automatically like I expected.~~We have to go, Miki.~~

~~Must we? May I stay? I can catch up with you.~~

~~Miki?!~~

~~But … Joanie, Flower reminds me of Mom. ~~

~~ I can’t say no to that. Watch your show, if you are certain you can find me safely after.~~

~~Thank you!~~

I got a mental hug, as I left to get in line for the jury. I knew she’d be safe with her ability to blend into the background. She’d lived on her own for 150 years and knew her stuff, but I worried a little. ~~I can’t do this to her. She’s a pregnant woman, and I left her alone in a strange place … Wait a minute, she’s about as defenseless as a tank battalion, with her access to my magic. Am I that much of a softy? Get a grip, girrrrl.~~

* * * *

I grabbed my stuff, sans Miki, and got in line. The bailiff counted heads, said her spiel and led us to Courtroom 310. We stood on our numbers as instructed.

“Remember to stay in the order you are now, as this is how the court will identify you during the voir dire or jury selection process.”

We entered the courtroom and sat down. A bailiff introduced the judge; we stood up and sat down again. I think they do this to give you exercise and let the blood flow to your legs, as much of one’s time in court involves sitting and waiting.

“This is a serious case. The gist is the plaintiff, the side bringing this case, claims he was fired in an illegal manner. The defendant, his former employer, claims the firing was done lawfully and for cause. Each side is suing the other for damages. I anticipate the trial will last for two or three days. Anyone who cannot serve the entire period please inform the bailiff now.”

One person was excused leaving twenty three of us.

The lawyers started interviewing us. I waited my turn. They had assigned our numbers at random down in jury assembly, and like the previous time I’d gotten a high number. This meant I might never get interviewed, or they might have to take me anyhow as they might be short on candidates by the time they got to me. I was called and was ready to be heading back to jury assembly again. The plaintiff’s lawyers went first.

“Juror number 23, have you ever served on a jury before?”

“Yes, twice.”

“The type of trial?”

“They were both civil cases involving cars. One was a drunk driving case, the other was a pedestrian accident.”

“Would you have any difficulty reaching a fair decision?”

“I take this duty seriously and would try to be fair and unbiased.”

“One last question. What do you do for a living?”

“I am employed at a local private boarding school where I also am a student. I sing a little, too.” That last statement got some laughs from the court.

I saw the light come on over his head. “Ah, so you are her. I have no objection to this juror.”

The defense went next; a woman took the lead. “You are a professional singer?”

“Yes, though accidentally at first.”

“Accidentally?”

“A recording of my singing at a birthday party got posted to the Web, and next thing I know I’m a 'recording artist.'” I made quote marks in the air with my hands. There were further snickers from the court, until the judge frowned.

“You are also a student? Will that interfere with the attention this case requires?”

“I’m only a part-time student, and my school is most accommodating. A few days disruption would be no imposition.”

“Are you related to any of the parties to this case?”

“Not that I know. I moved here from Wisconsin last December, so I doubt I know anyone.”

A fellow lawyer said something to her, and I heard her reply almost angrily to him.

“Is there a problem, Counsel?” the judge asked.

“My colleague just reminded me of something. Juror 23, am I correct in assuming you are a mutant?”

The plaintiff’s council was about to interrupt when the judge beat them to it.

“Counsel, you had better justify that question. You know questioning a juror about their race, sex, sexual orientation and mutant status is illegal unless there is cause,” The judgehwas not pleased but neither was I.

“Your Honor, we, my colleague and I, are concerned that her celebrity status as a public figure and known mutant will disrupt the proceedings.”

“May I answer their concerns, Your Honor?”

“If you wish; you are under no compulsion to answer.”

“I’ve been on juries prior to my mutation, and I know that whatever the issues at stake, a trial is important to the parties involved. I consider jury duty a task deserving my best effort. I assure everyone present I will be as fair and unbiased as I possibly can. I would expect no less if I was one of the parties involved. I will do my best not to be a distraction, and I know not to discuss the case with anyone, including other jurors, until released to do so by the court. I’m a teacher as well as a student, and I want to set a good example for my fellow students.”

I must have said the right thing because I was seated on the jury. The defense never challenged me after that. When the last juror was seated the judge gave a warning.

“Jurors, not discuss the case between yourselves or anyone else until I say so. Do not try to investigate this case on your own. The evidence and testimony presented in this trial are what you must go by. I will instruct you on the law if and when the case goes to you for deliberation. Wear your juror badges at all times; they remind others not to discuss cases in your presence. If someone should approach you about the case, or you overhear anything related to this case, inform the bailiff.”

* * * *

The case started after a fifteen-minute bathroom break. The lawyers for each side laid out what they intended to prove. A longtime employee was suing over his firing. He claimed it was without cause and possibly discriminatory. The firm argued it was a legitimate business decision and based on performance.

From what the sides were saying, the ex-employee’s performance was key. The man, a middle-aged African-American, was fit, well groomed and spoke in a cultured tone. I was impressed with his dispassionate testimony. His lawyer presented a stack of performance reviews from the last five years, plus numerous letters from customers of the company praising his work. The defense stipulated these were all legitimate documents and did not dispute them. So far it seemed a slam-dunk for the plaintiff. This went on for several hours until the judge had us break for lunch.

Miki caught up with me, as I headed to lunch. She called to me from a little used stairway where she got into her carrier.

~~I did not wish to disturb you. I patrolled outside the room you were in. I found some tainted creatures, but they were human.”~~

~~Must be lawyers. Good thing you didn’t eat any, they might give you indigestion.~~ I giggled a little.~~ Is there any risk?~~

~~I will keep vigil.~~ Miki was quite serious, and I felt ashamed; that made me giggle. I am sooo blonde some days.

We walked down to the basement cafeteria where I had a soup and sandwich plate and Miki got a piece of poached cod. I let her have some of the cheese from my sandwich and a little of my milk; I figured she could use the extra calcium for her future babies. I got some stares, but my jury badge kept people at bay. Anyone with the badge is in a trial and no discussion of any trials may be carried on in their presence. We finished eating and walked slowly towards the elevators. A school group was touring the courthouse, and the kids went crazy when they saw me.

“Are you Joanie?”

“What kind of animal is in the cage?”

And so on.

“I’m on a jury, so I can’t talk about anything to do with the case. Yes, I’m Joanie the singer. I have to do jury duty like any other adult. It’s important work and interesting. The critter in my carrier is Miki. I have special permission for her to be here. You can see her, but be careful, she’s pregnant.”

I let her out and held her gently so the kids could see.

“What is it?”

“She is a girl and my friend. Miki is a mongoose. If you remember the Disney film, The Lion King, Timon the Meerkat is another kind of mongoose.” That got smiles of recognition from most of them. I let them pet her then excused myself. I returned to the jury room for our court and waited until we were called.

The afternoon was tied up with a series of supporting witnesses, some current employees testifying what a good worker he was. The defense was permitted to cross-examine, but his witnesses stayed consistent in their testimony. This continued on until late afternoon when the plaintiff finished and the defense began. The Judge had us break for the day and admonished us not to speak to anyone of the case.

“Trial will resume at 9:30 AM tomorrow, Saturday. Remember, no discussing this case with anyone. Court adjourned.”

* * * *

The press was more respectful today. I think a few were afraid of me.

“Sorry, can’t speak, I’m on a trial. Take care and I hope Mr. Dick is up and better.” And I meant it too, but I did snicker at his name.

* * * *

Back at campus, I practiced with the Sabers and worked on one of my class papers. I stopped by The Crystal Hall and the school store that evening to pick up fresh supplies for my menagerie. George and Gracie were growing at a furious pace, and I needed to provide them with the best quality food possible. Miki had her needs as well, though she could supplement them with hunting. I loaded up a campus utility cart I’d borrowed and made my way toward Poe.

“Joanie, wait up please.”

“Dr. Pollard? What can I do for you?” I stopped my cart for the moment.

“I have those recommendations for a pregnant mongoose’s diet and exercise I promised. I asked Security to locate you for me.”

I quickly scanned the list he gave me. “This is close to what I’m giving her to supplement her hunting.”

“I recommend you let her hunt, as the small creatures she eats whole will provide valuable minerals.. A standard human multivitamin with calcium and other essential trace elements — not one of those mega vitamins though — can be used, but the dosage needs to be cut way down. The ones formulated for pregnant women would be ideal. If the bottle says one per day, dissolve it in a little water and add it little by little to her water over a week’s time.

“Joanie, as a rule of thumb, the nutritional needs are proportional to weight adjusted for metabolic rate, assuming an average sized human female is about your weight. In other words, Miki’s sixty-day pregnancy and faster metabolism means she needs more than a proportionate dose, but I don’t want her to get an overdose either. Save the unused portion in a sealed bottle in the refrigerator for use later or just dispose of it as these supplements are inexpensive.”

“The kitties drink out of her bowl and visa versa. Is that a problem?”

“Either put her bowl where they can’t reach, or you could dose all the water; the supplements would not harm the smilodons and could prove beneficial as they are actively growing.”

I asked various questions, including one about the vitamin C in the pills. “Humans are one of the few animals that can’t make their own. I worry the cats in particular might suffer from an overdose.”

“Joanie, don’t worry,” he assured me. “As a water-soluble vitamin, it won’t harm them, particularly in the small dosage they would get.

“If you are worried, a supplement intended for farm raised mink would do as well. The feed stores in Arkham or Berlin should carry it, or we can order some for you. Let her have all the water and food she wants, but I don’t want to see Miki get fat. A ten to fifteen percent weight gain is quite sufficient for the healthy development of her kits, and most of that gain is late in pregnancy. Bring her to me weekly at first, so I can watch for signs of trouble.”

“What about exercise and …?”

“Leave her routine unchanged, except for the supplement and checkups. The activity will keep her healthy; you don’t want to coop her up or stress her out. Normal activity is fine. She’s survived on her own for 150 years; she knows what she’s doing.”

I told Miki that later, and it made her day.

~~Thank you. Then I may continue my duty to Kushala?~~

~~ Guarding the demon your late Mistress and her friends contained and then buried at a terrible price in lives? Miki, remember, I witnessed the burial of her and her unborn child and that of her husband. It was such a gray, wet November day. It was also day we first glimpsed each other. Absolutely, you may continue to guard the demons tomb. I would never come between you and your duty but be careful, my friend.~~

I spent some time with my cats -- they deserved some attention, too -- and went to bed early.

* * * *

May 26, 2007 Saturday, yes it’s a Saturday

You’re wondering why a trial would be continued on a Saturday? Because the Court said so, so there! — Joanie sticks out tongue at her d/j/w readers -- And would you argue with a judge? Plus the guy had to be a bit loopy; I mean he wore this silly black robe that looked like cheap kimono rip-off to me, and it didn’t do a thing for him. The color was so totally not right. Now the same *robe* on me, with some lacy red dainties and open toed heels … I was kidding; you people are no fun at all. Mind you that idea for an outfit, maybe using a real kimono, could be hot!

The trial was to resume at nine-thirty in the morning. Miki and I got to the courthouse a half-hour before, to be safe. We started on time, which surprised me, as court tends to be hurry-up/wait. The defense opened with a shocker.

“Mr. Roberts, did you witness the plaintiff drinking alcohol at work?”

“His last few months in our employ, I noticed the smell of alcohol on his breath with increasing frequency. I reminded him of the company policy on being drunk at work.”

“Objection! We were not informed of this witness and his testimony in advance.”

“I will allow this for now, but there had better be supporting evidence soon or I will exclude this testimony.”

The defense continued and produced a company physician who testified to counseling the plaintiff for alcoholism. They presented documents in support. The case was getting interesting.

The plaintiff’s lawyer asked for a few minutes with her client. While the court paused for a few minutes, I looked around from my seat. My fellow jurors looked as surprised by the defense testimony as I was. The plaintiff looked clean-cut and sober, but then any lawyer worth their fees would present their client in the best possible light.

The plaintiff’s wife and daughter were sitting in court and were equally shocked or so their body language indicated. Something about the family and their daughter struck me as odd. Dad and mom were what my former inner-city coworkers would call ‘dark-skinned’. The daughter was more of a ‘milk chocolate’, had a slight, delicate build, and her facial features were far too soft, almost Asian, whereas the parents had angular, strong faces and muscular, athletic builds -- what a fashion photographer might call ‘good bone structure’. For a moment, I wondered if she was adopted or from a previous marriage. Then she moved, and I saw her elfin ears poke though her hair. Her oversized violet eyes cinched it. ~~His daughter is a mutant … and she’s so cute!~~ My male mind does surface from time-to-time -- it has very good taste, too.

* * * *

We broke for lunch after that, a two-hour break as the judge granted a plaintiff’s request for more time to prepare for rebuttal after the surprise witness.

“Be back here in time for court to resume at two. If you need a suggestion for lunch, the food cart on this floor does a great Chicago-style hot dog with real Vienna brand sausages. I went to law school in Chicago, and these are the real deal. Wang’s Garden, a Chinese restaurant one block east on Main is good, too. Remember, do not discuss the case with anyone. Back at two, everybody.”

Something about the defense bothered me, but I couldn’t pin it down. I decided to remain neutral and set my feelings aside. As I left the jury box, I noticed the woman and the mutant teen girl embrace the plaintiff. ~~I was right, they are his family.~~ They had to be his family or very close friends. I rode an elevator to the basement cafeteria. The wife and daughter were in there along with me, a bailiff, and several people I did not recognize. On seeing my jury badge, they kept quiet.

In the cafeteria, a name invented for the Colombian Exposition in Chicago in 1892, really, I didn’t see anything much that appealed, so I got a small garden salad and juice for me plus a hardboiled egg and a carton of whole milk for Miki. I found us a quiet corner table, and we sat down. One of the defense lawyers, a man in a dark pinstripe suit, came in as did the man who gave the devastating testimony. Then I saw something that chilled me, a silver HF tie-tac on the lawyer and a HF lapel pin on the witness. They seemed very chummy, as they talked. I thought I might have seen a small Manila envelope passed between the lawyer and the man. The wife and daughter of the plaintiff were also eating here, and the lawyer saw them. I saw his facial expression turn hard; the look scared me.

~~Joanie, the man in the dark coat with stripes hates mutants. I sensed it. When he looks at the girl-child of the dark man, he is full of hate. He tried to suppress it when he looked at you. He would kill both of you, if he could get away with it. Forgive me, I did not speak of this before.~~

~~That is your job, to determine who only hates and who is a danger. What of the man he spoke with, the man who said the girl’s dad was a drunkard?~~

~~Drunkard?~~

~~Like you felt after you ate the spoiled mango in Hawaii. Not the sexual feelings, but the lack of control and dizziness.~~

~~He hates mutants. He is proud of his lies. The other man, the doctor, was scared. Something he loves is in danger. He lied, Joanie. I am certain.~~

Now what would I do? Miki’s mental powers are not exactly proof in court. I did see the HF pins, and the reaction of the men to the mutant girl was unmistakable. And there was the envelope. Not much, but I considered informing the court as this hinted at perjury. We finished our meal and headed to a restroom.

I did my duty, as did Miki; I said she’s toilet trained. I was leaving the ladies room when Mr. Mutant-hater lawyer and pal walked by. I caught part of a conversation.

“… make sure he doesn’t change his mind. If he recants …” they saw people walking by and stopped. Fortunately they didn’t see me.

I had a big problem and decided I must inform the judge -- plus I was still hungry. The salad wasn’t enough. I walked up to the courtroom floor and got one of those Chicago dogs and a soda. I was nearly finished when I heard.…

“I, um, see someone has good taste in cuisine.” It was our bailiff; he smiled at me but was blushing. It struck me as odd.

“It’s pretty good -- messy but good. I have a problem I need to see the judge about. Is that possible?” I took another bite of the sausage and licked my lips clean. I caught my reflection off the glass covering a nearby bulletin board and all became clear. ~~The way I’m eating my *dog* is … Oh my! No wonder the bailiff is all *flustered*. I’ve been teasing him, subconsciously. I guess I miss Eric more than I thought.~~

“Wait here.”

A few minutes later, I was led into the judge’s chambers.

“The bailiff said you needed to see me?”

“I remember your instructing us to report to you if someone approached us or discussed the case in our presence? I was eating lunch in the courthouse cafeteria, when I noticed one of the defense lawyers, and the man who was first to testify that the plaintiff was drinking at work, talking with each other. They both wore Humans First insignia. One had an HF a tie-tac and the other a HF pin. As a prominent mutant, I am familiar with their logo. They were very chummy, and the lawyer passed a small envelope to the man.”

“Continue.”

“I noticed the lawyer looking at the defendant’s daughter and wife; they were also eating in the cafeteria. I assume they are the plaintiff’s family from where they sat in court and their embracing him as we broke for lunch. The lawyer’s facial expressions showed hatred towards them. You honor, I work at a school for mutants and the daughter is a mutant, I am certain. I …”

“There is more?”

“I was exiting a ladies room and I overheard part of a conversation between the two same men. I heard the lawyer saying, ‘… make sure he doesn’t change his mind. If he recants….’ Everything I have related occurred by accident. I felt I must report this to the court. I’m sorry, if I caused trouble.”

“You did the right thing. Please wait in this side room until the bailiff comes for you. I need to see both sides in chambers.”

`* * * *

A while later, I heard people entering the judge’s chambers, and his questioning each side. At one point he got loud, possibly angry, and the bailiff came for me. I saw both sides' lawyers, the plaintiff and the chief representative of the company in the room with a visibly upset judge.

“Ms. Brown, please relate exactly what you told me earlier.”

I did, and the plaintiff’s lawyer listened intently, while the defense’s team of lawyers looked at the HF-tainted lawyer with increasing contempt.

“Your honor, may we have a moment to confer with our client?”

“Granted, but be brief.”

A minute later, “The defense is appalled that one or our team would stoop to suborn perjury. He is, of course, suspended until we can investigate further, but be assured his days with us are over, if this proves to be true. My client wishes to withdraw his defense and settle.”

“A bit late in the game,” the judge replied, clearly pissed off.

“In the interest of saving the court the burden of a trial, what is your offer?” The plaintiff’s lawyer asked.

“We will double the total cash value of what we last proposed.”

“So you’re offering sixteen weeks severance pay for an unlawful firing and deliberate injury to my client’s reputation? We will no settle for less than reinstatement to his position with due compensation for lost opportunities for advancement, salary increases and incentive bonuses, the payment of all his legal costs and court fees, a comprehensive plan to prevent such abusive and discriminatory practices in future, and a public apology.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“I agree, but my client wishes to get this over and is not interested in seeking punitive damages … if we can settle.”

“I’d reconsider, if I was your client, defense. The plaintiff’s demands appear reasonable. We can always go to the jury and let them decide after I instruct them to ignore the perjured testimony and falsified evidence submitted by the last two witnesses. I will pass all of this on to the District Attorney and the State Bar. They frown on conspiracies to commit perjury, particularly by members of the bar. Then there is the matter of the company’s doctor that suggests coercion. Or the plaintiff could move for a summary judgment, and I assure you the imposed remedy will be *memorable*. Bailiff, please escort the juror back to the waiting room and thank you, ma’am.”

One hour later we were led back into the courtroom and dismissed with the judge’s thanks. The lawyer and witnesses I’d fingered were *politely* requested to remain behind, while the judge decided whether to hold them in contempt or let the DA charge them with perjury. The defense looked like they wanted to kill me, but the way they looked at the likely-to-be-ex lawyer in their midst was far worse. I walked towards the elevator, until I saw men with HF pins. To be honest I didn’t exactly see the pins, but they had *the look* and certainly gave me the look. ~~They could make a fortune curdling milk for cheese makers with *that*. Ehw!~~ If I’d had the presence of mind, I’d have wet myself; these guys were that scary. Instead, I chose a different elevator. I was exiting the courthouse, when the plaintiff’s wife and daughter came up to me.

“Thank you for what you did for us in court.”

“Ma’am, I only did my duty as a juror. Oh, lovely, that sounded like a bad script from an old cowboy movie. I should have said that in a fake Gary Cooper voice, huh, I mean yup.” I giggled from nervousness.

“I understand what you meant, Ms. Brown.”

“Joanie, please.”

“I appreciate your sticking you neck out, Joanie.”

“I accidentally learned of something that the judge had to know. If it had been your side acting suspicious, I would have done the same. I noticed your daughter is like me, a mutant. Has she been evaluated or received training since her mutation?”

I turned to face her daughter and smiled. “I love the look. You’re very pretty.”

The previously nervous, almost timid teenager smiled and blushed. I swore I heard her ask, “I’m pretty?” but her mouth never opened.

“Mariel’s been evaluated locally, but they recommended more testing. Unfortunately, with my husband being fired and the expense of the lawsuit and trial, she’s had to attend a public school. No one there has the training to deal with new mutants. She’s not happy.”

“With your exotic looks, I imagine some students bully you, Mariel. I imagine the boys try to take liberties, like they think you’re a slutty girl. Sorry, but I bet it’s true.”

I sensed a wave of happiness, bordering on embarrassment that quickly changed to sorrow and almost anger.

“The girls hate me. I used to be kinda fat and plain, and now they accuse me of seducing their boy friends. I don't know why they say that; I'm not after anyone's boyfriend or girlfriend. I'm still getting used to the new me. They call me a slut, and I even got detention once for fighting because the teacher couldn’t figure out who started it. I was only defending myself when the teacher walked in. It’s not fair. I’m still the same person except for my appearance. I’ve never hurt anyone.” Her voice was sweet and innocent.

“I teach at a school for mutants not far from here; it’s one of only a half dozen or so such schools in the US. If you have any major powers, Mariel, you might want to check it out.

“It’s horridly expensive, but they offer a lot of financial aid, and I know of an organization that might offer Mariel a grant. If you mention my name, they’ll do their best to help you.” I gave the mom a card with the Whateley web site on it."

I turned to Mariel and whispered “You’re a telepath and or an empath, aren’t you?”

She nodded but looked surprised.

“How did you know?”

“I have some friends who are, and I could sort of *hear* you earlier. You need evaluation and training for your health, safety and sanity. You have a gift that is potentially very lucrative. If you are any good at it, you will be in demand by all sides of the business and political worlds, including the bad guys.” I got out a pen and another business card. “Mariel, this is my private email. Write me, and I’ll send you and your mom info about the school and the foundation offering the scholarship grants. Do you have online access?”

The mother nodded. “You don’t need to do this.”

“Yes, I do; people helped me after my mutation, I’m just passing on the favor. It’s nothing spiritual or some mystical/karma thing like in the films Magnificent Obsession or Pay it Forward, it’s simply the right thing to do I’ve got to go, but do email me, okay? Mariel needs special training plus …”

I went into blonde mode, “Us hot-looking girls have got to stick together. Fighting the good fight against those yucky bad people and, um, split-ends, you know.” I giggled and Mariel laughed, any remaining tension broken by my dumb bunny act. I had a thought. “Mariel, do you sing or play an instrument?” I asked this in my normal voice … the serious girl, duh!

“Piano, voice and, this is embarrassing, I play accordion”

“I suppose somebody has to,” I sighed. We all laughed. “I’m in a band with a great bunch of girls, all students at the school. I’m a student as well as an instructor there. I’m still learning about this new body and my abilities the same as you. We’re always looking for talent. At a minimum, I could introduce you to the gals so you’ll know a few people on campus. There are quite a few other bands as well, so you won’t have to give up your music.” ~~I’ll have to get her a signed photo from Al.~~

I walked away and noticed a man with a camera and big telephoto lens was snapping pictures. ~Paparazzo already? Oh well, let’s make his day.~~ I smiled and waved at the man, and he ran off. ~~Weird.~~

* * * *

I had a pleasant drive to Whateley, checked in, and took care of my critters. I had a large overnight package waiting for me. In it was a letter from Al -- my producer/collaborator on the BET recordings -- explaining his intentions, along with sheet music and disks with tracks he’d recorded for me.

“I hope the songs and arrangements are to your satisfaction. I checked with your Warners producer, and everything is in keys and formats you are used to. Once you are familiar with the material, we can set up a time for rehearsal and recording at your convenience. I also included my concert schedule, so you know when I am available.”

I decided to practice as much as my schedule allowed, so we could record before I left for Wales.

* * * *

Suzy came by my linen closet and asked to see me. I was on such informal terms with the Sabers it was surprise she was so formal. She was also extremely excited about something. She was excited, even by *teenager in love* standards.

“Joanie, I have the greatest news.”

“You’ve sworn off boys and are now a confirmed lesbian, so I can finally get some sleep at night?”

“Joanie! You know Tom and I only kiss, and … We just kiss.”

~~Peachy, I bet she was about to confess they masturbate each other or have had oral sex or have just ... I do NOT want to know this!~~

“Sorry, Suzy, he’s a perfect gentleman.”

“He is, I’m the one who usually starts something, not that he doesn’t follow eagerly. Boy is he ever eager, so VERY eager,” she moaned and rolled her eyes in mock ecstasy”

“Whaaat?” I gasped.

Suzy giggled. “You are so easy to windup, cousin. Don’t worry, we haven’t done *it* yet. What I want to tell you is Mom and Dad are visiting my grandparents in Wisconsin the first weekend in June and if I can get a ride to …”

“You want me to drive you to my Aunt and Uncle’s house in Glendale?”

“Yeah, it will be safe, no one knows we’ll be coming and your MSG friends are watching over them all the time. Pretty please?” she cooed and batted her pretty eyes at me.

“Oh, all right. I planned on visiting my friends out that way anyhow so, yeah, you have a ride.”

“You’re visiting Eric, aren’t you?”

“Well, Duh!”

“Do I have to take you to medical and get you on birth control too?”

“We are not … I mean, Eric and I don’t … We …Oh Suzy, I wish I could take the Pill but being a regen it doesn’t work for me. And as much as I’d wish it he’s still male jailbait. Kissing and holding hands is the limit of our intimacy for now. Believe me when I say Tom and your restraint is admired. I want Eric so bad it hurts sometimes. I imagine you feel the same about Tom.”

“It isn’t easy but I respect Mom and Dad too much to hurt them and speaking of Mom and Dad…” Suzy took a cell phone out of her school blazer pocket and spoke into it. “Mom, did you hear Joanie accept? Yeah, it worked like a charm. Sure, I’ll put her on.” She handed me the phone.

“This cell hone was on? I was set up, Christine?”

“You betcha! It was like shooting fish in a barrel. Thank you for doing this for us. Suzy loves you and we trust her with you, Joanie. We’ll make sure she gets safely back to Whateley. Your MSG friends have offered to help so all you need to do is get her to Mom and Dads’, your Aunt and Uncle’s house.”

“You do that and you’ll have my gratitude too.” It was her husband, Bubba. Hey, he’s from the South so he’s far game.

“I promise.” I handed the cell back to Suzy.

“Thank, cousin. We are gonna have such fun on our trip!”

~~You know, I think we will.~~

May 27, 2007, Sunday

The spring session was scheduled to end by 12:30 PM, on May thirty-first, this year. After that, students were free to start vacation, though Graduation wasn’t until Sunday, June the third. I considered attending Graduation, but none of my friends would be there, except for staff. I got a call to meet Ms. Carson for a rare Sunday meeting, at 7:30 AM no less. I brought my Whateley laptop along in case of whatever. It pays to be prepared with regards to the boss.

She asked me questions about my time here, how I was fitting in, and where I was uncomfortable. She also inquired about my school friends, how we were getting on and the like. She even complimented me on how fast my farm projects were progressing, and that the farmhouse was complete except for a little paint and some landscaping. We conversed casually for some time about this and that. When I felt relaxed — like any successful hunter -- she sprang her surprise.

“Joanie, I will cut to the chase, I want you to attend our Graduation ceremony this coming Sunday. With few exceptions, you are the most famous person on campus, and you get on well with the students. I think the students would welcome your presence at what by reputation is a boring ceremony.”

“Physically and emotionally I’m their age, so that’s understandable. Other than having a pretty face the kids like, why me? What would I do?”

“You could do a speech about your time here, and what it means to you to be a mutant. You could tell about the responsibly that comes with being a super.”

“I am not doing that awful line from the comic books. Let Stan Lee do it, not me. ‘With great power comes yada-yada-yada.’ What a pompous twit.” Then I giggled which spoiled the whole outraged bitchy woman thing I had going.

To her credit, Ms Carson smiled and ignored it. “Just tell the students what happened, and why you acted as you did. Tell the truth and be yourself. Perhaps you could hand out awards and so on.”

“Ah, I heard the *and so on*. I know what this is all about; you want me to sing. Sorry, you couldn’t possibly afford my services, I’m far too expensive.” I said and giggled …again. Even in front of Ms. Carson, I giggle; it’s so embarrassing.

“Joanie!”

“Give me a moment, Ms Carson ….” Center yourself, Joanie. Time to act your legal age and not your physical one.~~ “Sorry, Elizabeth, I am so used to being a teen, being one of the students here, I fall into *blonde* mode instinctively. I didn’t mean to act like my IQ is less than my bra size.”

“I understand the need to maintain a false front. I would never have survived as a mutant super if I’d not reinvented my identity many times over the years.” She smiled. “You know, that would be a respectable IQ score in centimeters.”

I laughed. “Very good, Elizabeth and I deserved that for earlier. I would love to stay for the ceremony. You know me by now; I can’t keep out of the limelight. You could ask me to sing in a giant chicken costume or stark naked and I would do it. Well, maybe not the chicken costume; I have my standards.” I laughed and so did she.

“You are trying to tell me no, Joanie?”

“It’s not that I don’t love the campus. I’m building a home down the road; that must prove my dedication to the Academy. Ms. Carson, Elizabeth, I promised Suzy Kenner’s parents … let’s be honest, I promised my dear cousin I would keep her daughter safe. They want to see each other, and MSG assures me they have tight surveillance on the neighborhood where her grandparents live. Christine wants me to escort Suzy to her grandparents where they can all have a quiet reunion.

“I know the house and neighborhood very well, so I can get there from several different routes should I think we are being followed. They will get Suzy safely back to Whateley a week or so later. MSG says they can arrange cover for the trip back. Ms. Carson, it's family, and I have so little left since my mutation. I’m sorry I didn’t inform you but Suzy only asked me last night.”

“I don’t know. You can’t delay a few days?”

“I want to spend some time with my dad and sister, and as much time as I can in Iowa. I miss my family and I owe the Williams-Johnsons so much.”

“So this is about a boy, Missy?”

“Damn straight, Skippy!” I broke up, and Ms. Carson relented.

“Granted, but you owe me and Whateley a big favor.”

“”Name it, within reason. I’m not stupid enough to give you carte blanche.”

“I may have the very thing. Meet me in the executive conference room in ten minutes for the staff meeting. I’ll bring up my favor there.”

“Staff meeting? No one told me about a staff meeting.” I had to look confused, because I sure felt that way

“There was a memo sent via private email, and a notice in all the staff lounges.”

“I was busy studying for finals and helping my friends, so I’ve not been in a staff lounge lately. I do check my email several times a day, and I never saw a notice. Here, let me show you.”

I set my laptop on her desk, opened it, logged on and checked my mailboxes. There was no record of my receiving any such memo though I did receive one from Mariel requesting materials on Whateley, application forms, scholarships, grants and the like. I flagged it with a note to answer her ASASP.

“I met a recent mutant, Mariel, while on jury duty and gave her my email address. She’s a telepath and might benefit by coming here.”

“Collecting another stray are we, dear?”

“Just passing on information to someone in need of it”

“Have her write to me, I’ll handle it, Ms Softy.”

“Thanks, that’s kind of you. If you can’t swing it, Meridian might help out …” I gave her a big smile. “Getting back to the upcoming staff meeting, see, no memo from Ms Hartford. I’ll scroll through them all again to be sure.”

I let Ms. Carson watch as I did it, and she looked upset when I’d finished.

Ms. Carson pressed a button on her intercom. “Ms. Hartford, please come to my office,” she said without a hint of emotion.

Ms. Hartford entered promptly. “Yes, Ms. Carson, Ms. … um, Joanie.”

“Thank you, Ms. Hartford. I appreciate you calling me Joanie. I know it goes against your instincts regarding social formalities.”

“If you can *refrain* from referring to me by the *A* word, I can be less than strictly formal with you … Miss Brown.” She seemed to smile for a moment.

I had a hard time not giggling inanely. “A joke? *You* made a joke, and a subtle one at that? I am impressed … Ms. Hartford.” I smiled likewise.

Okay, who thought I was going to call her Amelia

“What may I do for you, Ms. Carson?”

“We were looking at Joanie’s school laptop, and there is no record of her receiving the notice to this morning’s staff meeting. She’s only here because I spoke to her in person, yesterday. This was completely unrelated but has proved fortuitous it seems.”

“Let me look. I sent the notices myself, and she was on the list.”

“Do you need my passwords?” I asked as she typed on my laptop at breakneck speed.

“I have overrides; I’m the sysop, after all. That’s odd, nothing in your staff email ... maybe in the general ... no. Your Security emails … personal emails … student emails, most recent saved, opened or deleted files?” She looked shocked.

“Believe me, I read your memos, Ms. Hartford.”

“I’ll need to test this unit at once. I have everything I need at my desk to run a full diagnostic; excuse me, but this could be serious. We may have a breach of computer or system security.”

“It’s not a prank, Ms. Hartford; blonde’s honor.” I giggled. And I swear for a moment she smiled back. ~~She smiled twice in the same meeting? There may be hope for her yet.~~

* * * *

My machine was being automatically tested, while the staff meeting commenced.

“Everyone, this meeting will be brief and of interest to you all. We have a new and distinguished part-time instructor coming to Whateley, and I’d like the department heads and certain members of the staff,“ she stared directly at me, “to organize a reception dinner and entertainment in her honor. She’ll be arriving at Whateley in approximately one month. She’d be here sooner, if not for private and governmental red tape related to her *change*. Initially, she will be here to obtain housing and get settled in prior to her formal introduction to the staff and faculty. The reception will be timed so that most of the fall staff and faculty will be able to attend. I suggest a date somewhere in mid-August. I have every confidence in your abilities to plan an appropriate dinner and reception with entertainment.”

“As an aid to your planning, the entertainment for the evening’s festivities will be organized by our Mr. King aided by Ms. Brown, who I am told has some abilities in this area.” That got some polite chuckles. “Are there any questions? One at a time, please.”

“What is this distinguished individual’s name, their area of expertise, and are they a mutant. I meant to say, what kind of a mutant are they?” Rev. Englund asked. Somebody had to, and if he hadn‘t I would have.

“That’s three questions, Reverend, but I will let it slide as they are all relevant. Doctor Danielle Edwina O’Neill will be a part-time instructor in the History and Languages departments.” The Reverend perked up noticeably on hearing this. ~~He seems inordinately interested in Doctor O’Neill. I do hope she’ll be okay; he gives me the creeps.~~ In addition to her duties at Whateley she will continue teaching at Brown — no snickering, Joanie — University in Providence, Rhode Island, and possibly several others on occasion. She's a Professor Emeritus in Egyptology at Brown.”

I struggled to contain myself. Emeritus, not Emerita, but the doctor is a woman? Sounds like a candidate for Poe.~~

“She will continue consulting on archaeological excavations. She’s a world-class expert on ancient Egyptian civilization and language, and the most knowledgeable living scholar on the early history of the combined Upper and Lower Kingdoms.

“She does not produce scholarly works exclusively. She is not just a field researcher but also an educator, which is why Whateley is fortunate to obtain her services. For those who wish a *general audience* example of her work, she recently appeared in The National Geographic. She has written several articles for them over his, Dan's, now her, Dani's, long career and recently authored a major article on the ancient Egyptian capital of Memphis complete with illustrations of what it may have looked like.”

~~Ah-ha!~~ I wrestled with my silly demons and felt my control slipping. They were not playing fair.

“There are several excellent photos of him, prior to her transformation, and of his dig crew, for those who are curious. As Dan he was a longtime contributor; you might wish to look up some of the old issues for additional background on the doctor.”

That did it; the demons won.

“Joanie, stop snickering! I’m referring to Dr. O’Neill, not that fictional Time Lord with a penchant for British gravel pits and screaming female *companions*.”

I was tempted to cry out, ”I resemble that remark,” but decided not to. Okay, I thought of it afterwards, damned 20/20 hindsight.

Ms. Carson smiled at me, and I felt better.

“She is coming to Whateley in part to be evaluated and receive training for her powers. She has offered to devise, research, and teach a class here on mythological races -- the first of its kind anywhere. She also has significant findings she wants to write up for her colleagues. Thank you all. Joanie, would you wait behind, please?”

* * * *

Everyone left, except for the two of us.

“Okay, this is where I get *volunteered* for the suicide mission? Remember, my codename is Timeout, not Kamikaze.”

“Hardly that, Joanie. I want you to be Doctor O’Neill’s mentor and troubleshooter regarding all things Whateley. She will be a great addition to our faculty, so I need someone she can feel comfortable with to ease any difficulties that arise. There is no doubt of her qualification to teach and research, so she needs no help with that. Pick her brain, Joanie, you might pick up some useful tricks of the trade. Where she will need assistance is in getting used to Whateley and our *unique* culture. You must admit, Whateley can be intimidating to the newly arrived.”

“I can see how Whateley will benefit, particularly from her course on mythological races given the considerable number of living mythologicals and avatars on campus. I find it odd you picked me. What do I, Miss July, have in common with such an eminent and senior scholar? I mean, you said she’s a Professor Emeritus. They usually get that distinction after years in the profession. What is she, sixty-five? I repeat myself only because I need to know: why was I volunteered?”

“As arguably the most famous, or is that infamous, face at Whateley, and the Meridian Chair holder, you’re ideally suited,” Ms. Carson said, then chuckled.

I could tell from her tone I was not getting off lightly for the couch attack. This was clearly in retribution for that. I decided to counter attack.

Oh, I didn’t tell you about her office couch and a fatal — for the couch -- attack by two crazed smilodons, did I? It must have slipped my mind, dear d/j/whatever readers.

“It was the couch’s own fault, Ms. Carson, teasing my smilodons like that, sticking its plush armrests out in that provocative manner. The sofa was asking for it,” I said, and Ms. Carson shook her head and smiled.

In my defense I must point out I did pay for a replacement for the custom, imported leather, hand-made couch they destroyed. Oh-boy, um girl, did I pay; my furry friends have expensive tastes.

“I must thank you; the new couch is an excellent replacement, though I should have kept the old one as a trophy. This is no punishment, Joanie. You truly are the logical choice to organize the reception and to ease her arrival on campus. You will like Ms. O’Neill. I called some friends at Dartmouth to ask about her; she has a reputation as a kind-hearted, patient person, a dedicated scholar, and has a sharp wit. He dealt primarily with graduate students in recent years but did teach introductory courses so the transition to her dealing with teenage pupils won’t be a total shock. Joanie, what I am about to say is to stay between us, do you understand

“I can keep a secret when necessary. Since you are asking, it must be a whopper.”

“This is difficult to put into words. In the time since her change, she has experienced something similar to your *research trips*. I will leave it to her to give you the details, if and when she is comfortable with it. You would do well to return the favor and tell her about your *trips*. Joanie, once you trust each other she may wish to enlist your unique talents for various projects of hers and her experience could help you make better use of your, *talent* ... Her love of music and singing is legendary among her graduate students, or so I am told.”

~~Huh? That last comment came way out of left field.~~I thought I caught a hint of a wry smile on her face. Ms. Carson’s been doing the superheroine and schoolmistress role for so long, it’s hard to read her.

“What kind of music?”

“She’s partial to music of the first half of the 20th century, classic country music -- pre-1950, in particular. I’m sure you can devise suitable entertainment, in good taste, of course. Most importantly, you and Samantha Everheart have more in common with Dr. O’Neill than any others on campus -- you in particular, John.”

When she used my male name, it hit me why I was her choice. “Though you didn't say it explicitly, you implied she is a male-to-female mutant. I mean,’ In the time since her change, she has experienced’ and ‘She has written multiple articles for them over his, Dan's, now her, Dani's, long career,‘ are not what I would call subtle clues, and there were lots more.”

“A brilliant deduction, Nancy Drew.”

“I’m trying to be serious here, but well played, Elizabeth. And thanks for not calling me Daphne.” Now she laughed. I giggled openly. “However, even a blond snail could have figured out Dani’s mutation involved a sex change. Something you said was much more informative, you said she was a Professor Emeritus, not Emerita. I’m not student of Latin but the meaning is clear. Combine it with everything else you said Doctor O’Neill must have had a late onset mutation, very late, I take it. She mutated at what, sixty-five or even seventy years of age? That is unprecedented to my knowledge. She’s lucky to be alive,” I said.

“You're partially right; all three of you underwent your transformations far later in life than most. Sam transformed in her early 40s, you in your late 40’s, Dr. Dan O’Neill transformed at 97 years old into Dani, who is physically 19. All of you are students of history: Sam as a soldier, you as an amateur and now a researcher, and Dan grew up at archaeological digs and made that his career. Dani -- she prefers we call her that -- is here to be trained in her powers and in adjusting to her new gender in the modern world. Dani has some unusual powers that need our expert instructors. That is why you are more like her than most on campus; she has time traveled, though the mechanism is different. Some of her other powers are effectively like your time-warper abilities. Dan never married nor had any children -- another fact you share.”

I was shocked she’d brought that sad fact up, and found myself wiping a tear almost immediately. Mom so wanted to see a grandchild before she died, but us kids failed to fulfill that wish.

“I’m sorry to remind you, Joanie, but it’s important for you to understand Dani’s past. In some ways it parallels yours. She is one of the best in her field, and will be another crown jewel among Whateley’s outstanding staff.”

“So she’s here to offset the disaster that is me?” I said and laughed.

“Absolutely. She’s also looking for off campus housing with good office space, and a place to store her SUV, Farmer Brown.”

The toggle switches went ‘clickity-click’ in my mind, the tape reels spun, the punch cards … I’m a late 1957 model after all … but I had to be certain.

“You said she loves to sing … Ms. Carson, I think she’s the woman from my dreams, or nightmares,” I said excitedly.

“Nightmares, Joanie?”

“Bear with me a moment, Ms. Carson. Tell me if I’m right. Dani is an attractive woman with a slender, but not too slender, build and of average height. She has classic early Egyptian features and glorious black hair. Her eyes, though young and vibrant, are a window to a soul that has seen a century of happiness and pain. She has a personality and warmth of character that makes you want to be her friend. She’s spent so much of her life in the desert she likes her rooms and truck hot by any normal standards. She’s has a strong sense of duty to others; she’s the kind of person who will always offer you a lift or help someone in trouble. She has a wicked sense of humor and can’t sing to save her life -- or yours. There is a mysterious quality to her; I’m not certain what it is. It like she has been touched by the ages in some way, perhaps even by a higher power. I don’t know why I sensed that last bit, but I do. Perhaps what I sensed is a combination of her long life and the time travel?” I asked myself as much as Ms. Carson...

“It sounds as if you know more about her than I do.”

“It's not that I have made a study of her or anything, though I might have read one of *his* old articles in my Dad's National Geographics. I'm not trying to be funny, but really believe I met her in a dream -- at least I think I did. It was not a routine dream as I experienced everything in exacting detail. Ms Carson, my doctors said I might be a low level precog, but I have never been able to trigger it on demand. The images in this particular dream were so detailed I suspect it was a precognitive vision.

“It is possible, given your unusual warper gifts. I don’t know about Dani's singing from personal experience, yet,nor can I speak with authority about what people *see* in her eyes. I can say this, from what I've been able to learn, your *dream* describes her to a tee, Joanie.

“Though she has not yet been evaluated by Whateley’s medical staff, she has provided us with the MCO's preliminary description of her powers. In Whateley terms she’s a low to moderate level exemplar, a mid-level avatar, and has mid- to high-level TK powers. She has the power to manipulate time, though not quite as you do. When you get into time related powers, the lines between magic and physics get blurred.”

“Tell me about it, I'm practically the poster child. Sorry, please continue.”

“*AS* I was saying ... She can accelerate and reverse the flow of time within a limited area. She accelerates the aging of objects so they crumble to dust in seconds, or spark a fire from rapid oxidation. The effect appears as if an object has been moved far forward or back within its time line. Living objects are affected as well. She mentioned that her patroness can read and change the BIT of individuals. During Dani's travels, several adult males who were trying to stage a 'coup de etat' were changed from adults to infants -- one was even changed to a pubescent female,” replied Ms. Carson.

“She can change the age and sex of living beings? That’s dangerous! Misused, such power could kill,” I said.

“She assures me that BIT rewrite power is firmly in the hands of her ‘patroness’ and she cannot access it. She acted purely as a conduit for her ‘patroness’ in that instance. The rapid aging or catastrophic disordering of things is dangerous and she does have *access* to that power; that is why she is here. Dr. O’Neill is here to learn to control it and her TK. Her patroness is Ma'at, the Egyptian goddess of truth, justice, and order. She does not wish for Dani to do others harm and Dani is completely in accord with her patroness in this,” Ms. Carson assured me.

“I’m glad she feels that way. I would have a hard time with a power like that. The temptation to use it on rapists or other violent criminals would be awful. No one is qualified to judge another so harshly, no matter their crime. It’s hard enough for a jury of 12, judge and a courtroom full of lawyers and witnesses.

“I’d be terrified of controlling such power. It bothers me no end that my powers could be used to kill. My innocent seeming time stop could as easily be used to place someone in the path of a speeding truck as it was to save Melissa by taking her out from in front of one. Or what if my ‘freeze a can of soda in the air’ trick was done to a person’s heart or brain? That I even imagine these misuses disturbs me. I never want to be like that -- to hold the power of life and death in my hands. A moment’s uncontrolled anger could have horrific results. I sympathize with Dani’s position; she bears a heavy burden.”

“Since, as you say, she was in your dreams, was there anything else that stood out about her?” Ms. Carson wondered.

“It’s been something like a month since it happened, but the dream sticks in my memory. It was so vivid I thought I was awake. I suspected it was a precognitive vision; now I know. One thing stands out above all others from my dream. Remember, when I first came here, how you kidded me about having Sara Grobeschmidt-Taylor as my doctor? Dani may be the one person who can unseat her as Whateley’s all-time greatest prankster. Combine 97 years of hanging around grad students with powers granted by her ‘patroness’ and we’re all doomed!” I said, and then giggled.

“Don’t worry; I’ll organize a nice, respectable evening's entertainment. Given her academic status, I think the Crystal Hall is the best venue. Lots of room to mingle, eat, and dance, and it is an impressive structure. I’ll ask Mr. Lodgeman if any of his ballroom dance students would like to perform. I know this great little student band that would love the opportunity to play. I’m sure I can persuade them, I know their lead singer, intimately; I sleep with her every night,” I said, sort of straight faced except for the occasional, explosive giggling outburst.

“Now I’m worried. You *will* be dignified?” Ms. Carson asked.

“Me, Joanie, be disrespectful of my elders? Perish the thought. I wonder if my Dad can dig up that old Steve Martin LP of mine? My record producer can always send the sheet music. What was it, Steve Martin and the Toot Uncommons? (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/King_Tut_(song)

“Joanie, NO! Behave yourself, please?”

I walked away, my mind awash with possibilities. I sang softly to myself, no tune in particular. It was more like someone pushing the buttons on an old-fashioned car radio in rapid succession. ‘Walk like an Egyptian,” “Istanbul not Constantinople now it’s …”, “Midnight at the oasis, sing your camels to bed” … …”Don’t want no fancy funeral, just one like old king Tut…”

I was very happy. ~~Muwha-ha-ha-ha-!~~

The last few days of the semester are a bit of a blur. Between papers, exams, and helping my friends and a few classmates who had trouble, I had almost no free time. That got sucked up by practice for the BET recording. I managed to find some time to pass info on to Mariel so she could get Ms Carson’s assistance. The one thing that stands out in those hectic few days was Miki insisting on watching Meerkat Manor like it was almost a religious thing. So long as it kept her happy.

Oh, the laptop. Ms. Hartford checked it out and could find nothing wrong. So she inspected all of the staff laptops and PC’s and still found nothing though apparently something suspicious going on but there was no solid proof; that was as much as she would tell any of us. That had her in a bad mood; somebody had managed to get past her security systems, and she was pissed. I don't want to be around when she catches the fool; there will be blood. Probably some kid on campus trying to out do Mystor's Barbie doll clothing trick on me, I hope. The idea it might have been some outside group trying to track me down worries me.

* * * *

June 01, 2007

I got up bright and early Friday morning. Okay, WHO’S laughing Dear d/j/w? I did, I really did. I AM a morning girl. I was eager to take a trip and well … there was Eric and the fun we could have, *within certain, reasonable, preset parameters*. Yes, I’m misquoting the mechanoid Kryten from Red Dwarf, but the line applied. This would be the BIG test -- could we be girlfriend and boyfriend without sliding inevitably into...?

Yes, I DO want to slide his tab A into my slot B, so to speak, but we have to be patient. I WILL be patient; I WILL be faithful; I WILL kill him, if he ever cheats on me! Whoa, where did that come from? I would be upset and disappointed, but I would understand. Anyway Mel would kill him for me. Am I that possessive? Am I that obsessed about a boy and his dick? You bet your ass! Okay, I promise to be gracious if he falls out of love or finds my celebrity off putting. But I WILL also promise to make his eighteenth birthday so *memorable* he wouldn’t stray from me if the entire US Junior Miss Pageant stripped naked, tied him to a bed and tried to have their wicked way with him. Hey, I WAS a guy for 47 years; I know what they like. They say ~~Hum, those *theys* again.~~ that all is fair in love and war. Well, I’m taking no prisoners and giving no quarter … with respect to love. Zero hour is midnight the morning of his eighteenth birthday … I need yet another cold shower and a less vivid imagination.

I went for my morning run, and the gang was waiting.

“Joanie, do you have to go? Some of us are stuck here.”

“Leah, I know, and I’m sorry. Pinkie, you know I’d love to take you along, but it’s not for long. I’ll try to stop by before I leave for Wales, plus I’m counting on you ladies, notice I did not say girls, to take care of George, Gracie, Miki and mongooses to be named later. You all have my instructions for their care and feeding?” They all nodded, as they all wanted to help.

“Okay, but we’ll miss you.”

“Good, I’m glad you’re suffering,” I giggled. “Keep an eye on the farm and take advantage of it if you like. You have my permission to go there anytime, just let Whateley Administration or Security know first. And don't pick ALL the wildflowers, I'd rather they stay in the ground. But if you want to start a garden of any kind, sunbathe, hike, or whatever, it's okay with me. I was thinking of planting berry plants along the outer fence line for the wildlife and us. Give it some thought, but have fun; you've earned it. Ghod, I'm gonna miss you.” We hugged each other and headed off to shower and dress.

* * * *

We met one last time at breakfast.

“Joanie, you were so busy this week I didn’t get a chance to tell you. The This Old House People have offered to set up a recording studio in your pole barn. They say it could be done with prefab panels quick and easy.”

“That’s nice, but it wasn’t a high priority for me. The homes and my animal shed were the priorities, not a studio, Lisa.”

“We were thinking, since most of us are staying for summer session and the breaks, why not have our own practice space? We were lucky to get rehearsal space during spring academic session, and the summer is when Operations paints and everything.”

“What about your instruments, power, heating and cooling and … How are you going to move a vibraphone or a piano back and forth?” How would Lisa answer this one?

“We figured, um, the big items could stay there permanently. Operations says they can have sound proof panels, HVAC, power and a security system in place in a few days to a week, tops. They think they can install a small bathroom too.”

“And a galley kitchen for snacks and cold soda, I suppose?”

“With a microwave, compact refrigerator/freezer and a table top pizza oven. We just HAVE to have a tabletop pizza oven.”

Lisa had researched this in some depth, sneaky girl. But I now knew her fatal weakness, pizza, mua-ha-ha-ha! That was my Evil MastermindTM laugh number seventeen. The Lady Lighting comics had a bunch of evil laughs numbered and cataloged so I was justified in mine.

“And where would we get a piano, drum sets and the like? Whateley isn’t gonna’ just give them away and serious instruments cost serious money … as if I didn’t know where this is leading. Sorry, didn’t mean to say that last bit out loud, never mind.”

“But we’ll be ever so good to the animals and be good girls and basically suck up to you like crazy, p-u-leeese!” they chorused.

“All of you at once? That’s vicious! I know when I’m beaten; I’m impressed, by the way. Work out with Mr. King and Operations what you all need to equip it, including recording and playback equipment. If we don’t know how we are playing, it’s hard to get better. Have them bill me, but keep it within reason -- no cathedral size pipe organs for one.”

“Spoilsport!”

“I heard that, Pinky.”

* * * *

Suzy and I had a pleasant drive to Boston and the Amtrak station to catch the Lakeshore Limited to Chicago. The weather was mild, and the company sublime. We even drove with the windows down, enjoying the spring air. Suzy told me stories about her parents. I learned things I never knew about my cousin Christine, deep dark secrets only a loving daughter would know. Christine would pay, bru-ha-ha-ha!

“I promise to never use this knowledge to blackmail my dear cousin, but embarrass her? Oh yes!”

Suzy laughed then turned to ask me a question. “Explain again why we are taking the train in your truck instead of just driving or flying out?”

“It’s an Autotrain. It's a lot like the original one from DC to Sanford, Florida. It saves gas, and they hope it will boost ridership -- no need to get a rental car or a taxi at your destination. The truck will ride securely in a special rail car while we ride, sleep and dine in comfort in the train. I came to Whateley by train the first time with my motorcycle in the baggage car. I liked it, and this way we can enjoy the sights and not worry. I like to drive, but that is a long one. This way we can watch the scenery or pursue other *interests* and not have to worry about a thing. Maybe you’ll meet some handsome man and have a wild, brief fling. I hear doing it on a train is the best -- all that rocking motion I guess.”

She gave me a dirty look. We were stopped at a light at the moment; I’m not a fool. Then we giggled, recovering only when the vehicles behind us politely reminded us that the light had been green for some time now. The language used lacked a certain civility.

“Same to you, *&@#$)&^%!!!”

“Suzy! You and I need to have a talk. Where did you learn that … No, don’t tell me!”

* * * *

A short while later, we were at Boston South station and on the train. We even had a berth for the night where we secured our luggage. We found a pair of facing seats in the upper level of our coach and sat down.

“Remember your ticket number. They’ll call us to eat later, but if you want a snack or something, let me know. Suzy, are you okay traveling back to school with your parents?”

“It will be fun, and your friends in MSG promised us an escort all the way, so no sweat. Are you visiting Grandma and Grandpa, I mean your aunt and uncle, too?”

I was surprised at her bluntness, but we were alone for the moment so it was okay. “I’d like to, but I don’t want to put them at risk. I know them; they are good people, but it would hurt too much if they rejected me … I’d rather not risk it.”

People started filing into the car, and we began to get looks. Here were two unescorted and apparently single young women. The younger woman was attractive, and the slightly older one was a bona-fied hottie, um, me. The sharks began to circle. The train started moving, and so did the young, and a few not so young, men.

“I see you ladies are alone. I’ve been on the train before and would love to show you two the sights.” The college-age man spoke in an overly suave, self-assured style, and I was not interested in the least. I was looking out the window, and he was behind me, so he didn’t see my face. Suzy showed equally good taste and ignored him. He got bolder. “If you are worried about going out with a stranger, I’m amenable to entertaining both of you fine ladies.”

Suzy couldn’t contain herself. “My friend here already is seeing someone; she’s on her way to visit him, in fact. And I have a boyfriend back at school. He’s younger, fitter, better looking and kisses divinely. Why would I want to risk that?”

“You don’t know what you are missing.” His voice began to grate.

“My dear friend has said no. A gentleman would excuse himself at this point, but you seem to not be paying attention,” I said, my face still turned to the window.

I stood up and turned to face him. In my stocking feet, I was taller than him by several inches. With my boots, I towered over him. We were eyes to boobs, so to speak. He realized his predicament and was speechless -- a wise move on his part.

“You’ve overstayed your welcome; time to find greener pastures, *stud*.”

He walked off dejected; the other young men stared at me and my … well they stared at all of me, but more at some parts than others.

“You're, I mean … “

“My god, it’s really her … I …”

“I knew she was *big*, but look at the size of those.”

When they saw the anger on my face, they scuttled off. Suzy noticed and laughed.

“Suzy, it worked didn’t it?” I bowed to the remaining passengers and got applause.

* * * *

“Tickets, please!”

We got our tickets out and waited for the conductor.

“Joanie!”

“Yes?” I didn’t recognize her.

“I’m sorry, I’m Mary; you sent a nice present to my cousin last year. She works the Lake Shore Limited as a Conductress.”

“Oh, the lady who woke me up and saved my ass from going to the wrong destination when the ticket agent messed up my berth assignment. How is she?”

“She’s taking some vacation time. I’m filling in for her from another AMTRAK route, I usually work the Capitol Limited. She said if I ever had you on my train, to treat you special.”

“You don’t need to. All I ask is my friend and I have a peaceful trip, so not too many autograph seekers.”

“Celebrity, what celebrity?”

“Mary, I think I love you.”

* * * *

We were called to lunch in the dining car. We looked at the selections and ordered the trout. They played a wide variety of music over the sound system from oldies to top 40 formats. I was half-afraid I would hear one of mine and I was mildly disappointed when I did not. I must have more of an ego than I thought but then I do like meeting my fans, especially the kids.

A word of explanation is in order. It’s nearing a year since my mutation, a few months less than that since I rescued Mel but I’m not fully comfortable with my celebrity status, a good thing too. The last thing I want is to become a prima donna. Fortunately my mind did its usual thing and the strangest thought bubbled to the surface.

“Just because we are eating trout, don’t use that as an excuse to seduce an older man. This is not North by Northwest, and you are not Eva Marie Saint.”

“I was thinking more Silverstreak or maybe Throw Momma from the Train, but okay ... mommy.”

“I’ll get you for that!”

* * * *

To be continued, and soon, honest!
No, I mean it.

Okay, Jen Stevens wasn't in this chapter but she was until I broke it into two chapters. Next chapter for sure!