For The Greater Good

By Jamie Lee

My name is Michael Briden, an eighteen-year-old senior at Walter Ridge high school. Today is Friday, the last day of my incarceration, the last day I'll ever have to attend this sad excuse for a high school because tomorrow afternoon my class will walk across the stage and receive our high school diplomas. And Sunday will begin a new life for me and my two siblings. It will be the day Mark and I, die.

Neophyte Note: Writing has always left me with a warm and fuzzy feeling, when I didn't have to do it. The two of us have been nemesis for as long as I can remember, which is considerable. But on occasion I do have to write emails, or letters, which is okay, since I know exactly what I'm asking or want. But when it comes to writing stories, well, most times something gets lost in the translation between my brain and fingers. Perhaps this time the connection wasn't broken, and you the reader might find this story enjoyable, maybe even like it, I do hope so. And thanks to LadyDragon this story might even be readable; she even suggested it be posted. So a thank you goes out to her. I had thought to post this story in four parts, with two chapters per part. But after reading a few posts in the FAQ section, decided the KISS principle would be much safer until I get my feet under me--AKA learn how to post on this site. So, if you like my story, please post a comment. And if you find my technique a bit lacking, send me a PM. Enjoy.

Thirty years ago a political psychologist was hired by a failed candidate to discover why he lost his bid for a Congressional seat. It was a simple request, requiring interviews and polls and deduction to learn why the candidate lost the election. What no one knew at the time, and the psychologist discovered, would cause an upheaval that would turn lives upside down. That is until a group of
"misfits" learned the secret behind the new phrase, "For the Greater Good."

~~~ Chapter 1 ~~~

My name is Michael Briden, an eighteen-year-old senior at Walter Ridge high school. Today is Friday, the last day of my incarceration, the last day I'll ever have to attend this sad excuse for a high school because tomorrow afternoon my class will walk across the stage and receive our high school diplomas. And Sunday will begin a new life for me and my two siblings. It will be the day Mark and I, die.

A family of five has become the standard since that jackass psychologist made his discovery before I was ever a gleam in my parents' eyes. It became a contention of pride if all the children were males because as everyone knew, they were far superior to females—I wish I could have been there to kick the jackass in his crotch. And my family was no exception, thanks to Mumsie dear.

Raymond and Marge Briden are the parental units, my parents; my dad is really a cool guy. Mumsie, on the other hand, is our resident zealot to the "For the Greater Good" catchphrase, which has made my life and my younger, um, brother, Mark, a living nightmare. Kelly, our older brother, and a sophomore in college had it much easier throughout his life; he was already a male. While I'm about to graduate, Mark, a high school sophomore, has two more years of our beloved institution to endure, though he is far ahead in every one of his classes due to his doing independent study—he was bored with what the sods were presenting and decided to study on his own. His studying paid off as he really screwed up the Bell curve. You would think they'd advanced him in grade because of his grades, and the intelligent tests we had to take, but no, that wouldn't be "For the Greater Good."

I'm sorry for my rant, but as I grew older and learned more about the "For the Greater Good" catchphrase and who the main beneficiaries happened to be, I became another in a long line who finally saw what those "misfits" all those years ago were talking about. And because of my dear Mumsie, it reigned supreme in our home.

Maybe I better calm down and explain how I happened to be attending Walter Ridge high school in the first place; my story might make more sense.

Almost forty years ago, before my parents decided it was time to have children, or the five-member family unit, thanks to that crappy "For the Greater Good" catchphrase, my dad started with a manufacturing corporation, at the bottom, as everyone who worked for them did. Within five years of his employment, he had become familiar with each and every assembly line within the plant. And because he had an ability to actually listen to what people were saying, and recognize problems with the machinery, he started helping the other lines when it was discovered he could fix their problem—the plant manager, Tom Charles, was the last to discover his abilities.

It all started when my dad overheard a few men from one of the other lines complaining about a problem they were having with their line. According to my dad, he walked over to the men, asked a few questions, went back with them to their line, looked it over and instantly spotted several problems with that line. What my dad proposed caused a lot of the men to almost lynch him because it wasn't company procedure, but dad explained how his method would increase their productivity. They were very skeptical, but followed his advice and marveled when the next line foreman started complaining because they were producing more than his line was ready for.

This, of course, didn't go unnoticed by Tom when he was reviewing the numbers for the month. Every assembly line but the one my dad talked too was meeting their projected output for the month. The line my dad talked to had exceeded the projected output by thirty percent, and that was against the Corporation procedures. Dropping the printouts, Tom made a beeline to the line that was producing more than procedures dictated; hopefully saving his job in the process—"damn that 'For the Greater Good' crap" he thought to himself. When he arrived he grabbed the line foreman, chewed him up one side and down the other, spouting "For the Greater Good" and several other things which burned my ears at dads' telling, then had to back off when that entire line threatened to walk out because of the treatment their foreman was receiving.

Dad and everyone around him couldn't help but overhear what was being said because of all the shouting. So, dad, being dad, went over to see if he could help. Dad stepped between the two men and started explaining to Tom that it was he who had made the improvements to not only the machinery but the procedures since said procedures must have been designed by someone who had an affinity for Alice in Wonderland. Dad then went on to explain that he had just finished doing the same for his line and two others, causing Tom to turn a lovely shade of white than pink. Again, dad being dad, went on to explain how his changes would triple the output of the plant if he would be allowed to do the same for the rest of the factory. Without saying a word, Tom turned and stomped off towards his office; dad figured he was hoping the mucky-mucks didn't notice the increases and fire him for cause.

Well, the mucky mucks at Corporate did notice the increases and sent two headhunters down to the factory to see what was going on, and why. To shorten dads' story, they dropped in unannounced, shocked Tom, who thought he was going to be fired when they said they liked what they saw, called my dad to the office and offered him the job of plant troubleshooter. Dad and three others, worked in that plant for another two years until every line had been reconfigured, new procedures were written, and the factory output had tripled as my dad said. And it didn't stop there. My dad and his three guys were then given the job of being corporate troubleshooters, going from factory to factory to improve that plant's output.

Some of the plants only took a few months to transform, but others took years; they were that big. And we moved along with my dad, with the Corporation offering several houses for my parents to choose from, buying the house they chose and then signing it over to my parents. They would then buy our house from my parents and put it on the market in the hopes to make a profit; yeah, this arrangement seemed screwy to me as well, but it was their money.

And here we are today, thirty-nine years and a few months later where my dad is working on his last factory due to his impending retirement after forty years. And Mark and I are attending Walter Ridge high school.

~~~ Chapter 2 ~~~

In our history class at school, (much of what they were feeding us was so not right—thank you internet) we learned there was once something called Political Correctness (PC), which relabeled designations some people found offensive. For example, before PC a person with mental problems was called retarded. But when PC kicked in, this person was called mentally challenged. Actresses became just actors, and the list was, well, endless. And as we learned, not everyone was in favor of all this PC crap because some of it was just so petty. But this all changed thirty years ago when a political psychologist was hired by a failed candidate to discover why he lost his bid for a Congressional seat for his State. It was a simple request, requiring interviews and polls and deduction to learn why the candidate lost the election. What no one knew at the time, and the psychologist discovered, would cause an upheaval that would turn lives upside down. That is until a group of "misfits" learned the secret behind the new catchphrase, "For the Greater Good."

This psychologist learned that he could get more people to do what he wanted if he played on their emotional guilt. It didn't matter what it was, he just had to phrase his words so the person felt guilty if they didn't comply. And after six months he reported back to the candidate and gave him a bomb which when the elections came around again, rocketed him into that Congressional seat. And as is said, the rest is history, and "For the Greater Good" shoved PC right out the window.

The "misfits" were a group in a think tank who did their own research, polls, and observations on "For the Greater Good" and discovered it was far more sinister than PC had ever been. And for one very good reason, it only benefited the person saying the catchphrase, not everyone as it had been touted. When they published their findings there were loud cries of unfounded accusations, shoddy research, and anything else the proponents could imagine in an attempt to discredit this particular think tank. But the proponents didn't count on other think tanks getting involved, conducting their own research to either verify or debunk the original research. That's when all hell broke loose because think tank after think tank came up with the same conclusion. "For the Greater Good" only benefited the one using the catchphrase. And over the next ten years "For the Greater Good" started to be used less and less, until there was a small group of hardcore zealots who basically told everyone they were wrong. "For the Greater Good" benefit everyone, and they refused to drop the catchphrase, which leads me back to my dear ol' Mumsie.

When I was about ten, I guess, I started noticing the boys at school were different than the boy Mumsie said Mark and I were. They had something neither Mark nor I had between our legs. When I asked Mumsie about this, she simply said we'd get ours in a few years. And she was right, three years later we did get our thing between our legs.

Mark and I came home from school, one day, to find a "thing" lying on our beds; there was also a banding material which we found out went around our upper chests—girl talk never occurred so what were the bumps on our upper chests? Mumsie in her usual false cheer, and her "For the Greater Good" attitude told us we were now old enough to get our own "thing" between our legs. Both Mark and I told Mumsie how dumb it was to put something between our legs and received several angry slaps across both our faces. Mumsie was NOT pleased with our attitudes. When we still lacked the "right" attitude, Mumsie brought out the razor strap and proceeded to put welts on our butts and backs; our attitudes changed after that, grudgingly.

And so the next day at school, Mark and I had the usual boy bulge characteristic with, um, boys our age; Mumsie removed them once a week and made sure we cleaned ourselves thoroughly. This indignity festered over the next several years until it reached a crescendo on my eighteenth birthday. Enough was enough and this crap was going to stop one way or another. Period!

~~~ Chapter 3 ~~~

I would like to say I spent that Friday, my final day of incarceration, chatting with friends, telling each other what our plans were after we graduated. But I couldn't, I couldn't because I had no real friends thanks in whole to Mumsie! On the first day my freshman year I was making friends left and right, and enjoying their company. But that changed once they came over to my house to visit, study, or game with me. With each and every friend who came over, Mumsie found excuse after excuse why they weren't good enough friends for me. And friend after friend was insulted to the point where no one wanted to come over or having anything else to do with me; it happened to Mark as well. They weren't outright hostile to either of us at school but they kept their distances, acting more cordial and sympathetic, knowing it wasn't our fault we lived with a "For the Greater Good" zealot. Still, Mumsie had done it all, adding more to the festering wounds she started years before.

And what was Mumsie's reasoning? She said it was all "For the Greater Good." What it really turned out to be was each and every friend Mark and I brought home happened to be in the "to hell" with "For the Greater Good" group. At least their parents were of that group. Plus, none of the families were in the social upper crust Mumsie imagined herself in when she attended Country Club parties and meetings.

Because everyone was cordial I had no one to tell what my plans were after graduation; well not my plans, but Mumsie's plans. I had no one to tell that my Mumsie had already enrolled me in pre-med, a subject that didn't interest me in the slightest. Oh, I had good grades in the sciences and mathematics but had no desire to go into the medical field. My love, my passion was art, painting and sculpting mostly, but the entire field of art. I fell in love with the paintings and sculptures I saw during a field trip my art class took to the City Museum. How the masters used color and shading to produce some of the most beautiful works, how someone could take a bit of clay and turn it into something which could be cast in bronze with very intricate detailing. It was amazing, simply amazing, and I loved it all.

And when I shared all of this with my Mumsie and dad, dad had to pull Mumsie off me or she might have beaten me to death. All the time she was beating me, she kept yelling, "you're NOT going to ruin MY plans for success!!"

Dad told the school I had acquired the flu while on the field trip, so he could keep me home until the cuts and bruises healed. That was the first time in my eighteen years I ever saw my dad get violently angry with Mumsie. He actually grabbed her and dragged her into their bedroom, telling her to stay there until she cooled off. He then carried me to my room and spent the rest of the evening and into the early morning hours sitting by my bed applying cool compresses to the bruises and ointment to the cuts. That was dad being, dad. And I loved him for it!

So the plans I was told about were dealing with me attending University for the pre-med program. My grades had won me a full scholarship and with living at home, Mumsie's words, not mine, SHE would save a lot of money. What I didn't tell Mumsie, but did tell dad, since I knew he wouldn't say anything to Mumsie, was that I talked to my school counselor when Mumsie first told me she pre-enrolled me into a pre-med program. My school counselor just laughed, telling me Mumsie didn't have the authority to do that, and that she could help me get into the program I wanted, art. And so she did, right then and right there, my school counselor called the University and canceled the pre-med enrollment and I was then pre-enrolled into the University's art program.

But Mumsie's plan for me living at home depends on her reaction this Sunday, the day Mark and I die. It will be the day the world will no longer see the persons of Mark and Mike, the day all the festered wounds are going to be unveiled, the day the three of us tell our Mumsie, "GO TO HELL!!"

On good days, Mark and I walked home from school, and this was one of those days. As we walked, Mark and I went over our plans for this coming Sunday, what we were going to wear, the time it would break loose, and what we'd take with us if it went as we believed it would. We had to have talks like these outside the house since Mumsie forbid any topics except the ones SHE wanted to discuss. This included talking to Kelly, the one who actually started the ball rolling by letting us know Mumsie's crap had to stop, period. He consulted with an attorney about our problem, even showing some of the videos we kept over the years. After taking one look at some of the videos, Kelly was told no Judge in their right mind would disallow an emancipation decree for Mark; Kelly would then become, um, his guardian.

We killed our conversation as we neared the house, no sense giving Mumsie any ammunition to start one of her rants. And it was only two more days anyway, so we could tolerate it. As I walked into the house, followed by Mark, there was Mumsie, false smile plastered on her face; "I'd like to plaster her," I thought to myself, as I waited to see what the zealot was on about. "There they are, my sweet boys," Mumsie gushed, plaster and all. And as we neared to where she was standing she performed, and it was a performance, a social air kiss to each of us near both of our cheeks. That performance made me feel like I'd stuck my finger down my throat, guess I still could but would I feel better? "Aren't you excited Mike, graduating tomorrow I mean?" Mumsie again gushed, acting like it was another feather is a cap so filled with moth holes it barely held together.

"Yeah, I guess so," I said, with as much monotone in my voice as I could manage; I didn't want her to know how thrilled I actually was, she might have dreamed up other plans. "Now dear, that's no way to be, you need to be more excited, cheerful. Your big day is tomorrow and then the after graduation party." She must have seen something in my face she didn't like because she stepped right up to my face, grabbed my shirt collar, and growled, "RIGHT?!" To twist the blade a bit more I simply replied, "Yeah, I guess so." Before I could turn away and go to my room I received a vicious slap across my face, knocking me backward and leaving her hand print on my right cheek; I later saw it in the bathroom mirror.

"RIGHT…?" Mumsie growled again, grabbing me again by the shirt collar and pulling me close to her face. It would have been so easy right then, right there to have decked the pig and not have felt any remorse for doing so. But I didn't, I held myself in check. I could wait until Sunday and let all out once and for all.

I reached up and rubbed my right cheek and told her, "right."

"There, see, you can have the right attitude," the syrup dripped off her tongue as she said those words. "I knew you had it in you, I just needed to help you realize it." And with that statement, she released my shirt collar, smoothing it out now that she wrinkled it.

"I've laid out your clothes for graduation and the after graduation party. Hang them up on the bedroom door so they don't get wrinkled." This is some of the crap we've had to put up with for far too long. She selects all our clothing, but we have to hang it up on the door so it doesn't get wrinkled. "Are her hands broken" has been the question I think to myself every time she does this.

As I start walking towards the stairs I tell Mumsie, "I don't have any plans to attend the after graduation party. There isn't anyone there I want to see." But my walk suddenly came to an abrupt halt as Mumsie grabbed the back of my shirt collar, from behind, and all but spit in my ear, "THE HELL YOU SAY??"

"Listen to me, you little brat! You're going to that party! You're going to have fun! You're going to look for a nice girl you can start dating or so help me you'll need skin grafts when I'm through with you! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" Talk about the proverbial chill down the back of your neck? She gave me one right at that moment, and I knew she was deadly serious. Thankfully about that time dad walked into the room, asking why all the shouting; he was not at all pleased to see the hand print on my right cheek.

"Yes, MOTHER, I understand," I told her and jerked out of her grasp and ran up to my bedroom.

"Understand what," my father asked Mumsie.

"Oh, nothing, dear," that sick pig lied to my father.

"If it was nothing then why were you shouting?" Have you ever seen someone when they bite into a lemon, how their face puckers up from all the tartness? That's exactly how Mumsie looked in trying to come up with a reason why she was once again shouting at me. So she stuck to the partial truth.

"Oh, Mike didn't want to attend the after graduation party. We discussed it and I felt it was "For the Greater Good" that he attends."

"Well if he doesn't want to go he doesn't have to go, it's his choice."

Like the rest of us, my dad was on the verge of pulling his hair out if he heard one more lame excuse to use "For the Greater Good" to guilt trip someone into doing something they didn't want. Little did he know that "For the Greater Good" was my not wanting to need skin grafts after Mumsie used the razor strap on me, again. I knew if she did, this time she'd make sure dad, and anyone else, was out of the house. And the next time I might not survive.

"But dear, he might meet some girl he could start dating, a girl he might marry one day." When Mumsie said those words my dad couldn't believe his ears.

"Marge, what in the HELL has gotten into you. Mike dating a girl then marries the girl? Are you that flippen stupid? Or that flippen blind?" Dad was really pissed, so pissed that he threw his hands up into the air, turned around and stomped into the study, slamming the door after him.

Mumsie looked at the spot where dad had stood with a weird 'I don't get it' look on her face. And she didn't get it! There was no way I was going to date some girl then ask her to marry me, I didn't swing that way. But Mumsie's mind was made up, her little boy was going to find a girl at the after graduation party and end up with her being his wife, the wife of a doctor—at least in Mumsie's mind.

~~~ Chapter 4 ~~~

I had planned to laze Saturday morning until about noon, and then get ready for the graduation ceremony and party afterward. Boy, was I mistaken! So instead of sleeping till noon, Mumsie bounced into my room at 7 o'clock in the morning.

"Come on, sleepy head, wakey-wakey," Mumsie said as she slapped my butt. "You don't have time to lay in bed on this special day; we have lots to do and very little time to get it done." As she said this last bit, I feel the covers ripped off me and thrown down to the foot of my bed.

I guess I didn't move fast enough for her because she then grabbed my hair, yanked me up so that we were eye to eye and in a cold growl said, "Get up now, you little bitch. You're not going to ruin my plans for today." She was pissed, no, beyond pissed, and I felt it in the awkward way she had pulled my head up to her face. If her actions hadn't pulled my neck muscles I'll be very lucky; I had to see a doctor a few months ago for something similar and ended up wearing a neck brace—the pictures are still in storage.

So much for my sleeping in, not now because I was wide awake thanks to Mumsie. The pig only had one more day before hell would descend on her head, all of our combined years putting up with her zealot crap.

Seeing that she had my attention, undivided attention at that, she proceeded to lay out my time from now until noon, when I would be getting ready for the graduation ceremony and make sure I had my clothes for the after party. But first, WE were going to her salon, to get me ready for the day—I have no idea what she meant by "get me ready." I've been treated like a boy for the past eighteen years, had she changed all of a sudden? Yeah, right, like that's going to happen to Mumsie. She had plans for her son, the doctor!

As it turned out I basically had my hair styled, to Mumsie's taste. They did a bit of shaping of my eyebrows and did my nails then added a clear coat to make them look nice. Mumsie even had them make sure my face was as smooth as a new baby's behind. All the while telling anyone who would listen that her son was going to be a doctor one of these days. Judging by the looks the stylist gave me, and I agreed with the look, she would have preferred Mumsie shove a sack of cement into her mouth, though that's not where I'd prefer she shove it.

When the stylist and manicurist were finished, Mumsie was ecstatic at what the two ladies had accomplished. And both rolled their eyes while standing behind Mumsie, making it very hard for me not to laugh out loud. And I agreed with their sentiments, though. I did try to tell Mumsie the clear coat on my nails was a bit too much, as no other boy I'd seen every had a clear coat on their nails. Mumsie just shook off my complaint with a look that told me all I need to know if I continued to complain.

"Nonsense, dear," she said instead of being violent about her displeasure, "it makes your nails look beautiful, perfect, they're sure to catch the eye of a lovely lady at the party." Right then I knew the argument was over, or else. Or else when we either got to the car or home, she'd lay another hand print on my face; and she isn't particular where it lands, so I clammed up.

The wait at the salon, and the time it took to make me "handsome" brought it to half past eleven in the morning. We had time to get home, have lunch and then get Mark and me ready for the graduation ceremony. Mumsie had even phoned home to make sure Mark's trumpet had been polished, even though, um, he tried to tell her it had been done when he came home from school yesterday. No use, she told him to polish it again; though if I knew Mark, he'd have a rag which looked like it had just been used to polish his trumpet. No fool that one!

What's there to say about my graduation? Not much, if you've ever been to a high school graduation. The band played music before the event started, played the usual dredge as the senior class walked in, played during a few special vocals, and played again when it was finally over. There were also the obligatory special speakers plus the Valedictorian and Salutatorian rambled on about how we could and would make a difference in the world. They were right about making a difference in the world, my world; that was going to begin a 2 o'clock tomorrow, Sunday.

With all the happenings during graduation, the ceremony ended around four thirty—it started at three. We had been told ahead of time that the after graduation, dinner would begin at five and the party at six. Thank goodness no parents were permitted at the party or it would have been worse for me, Mumsie would have seen to that. Except for Kelly, who had a previous engagement he couldn't break, the four of us sat down to the dinner and three of us had to endure the mouth that was my Mumsie. She never stopped talking about the plans SHE made, telling anyone and everyone who wasn't fast enough to "have another engagement to get too." Both dad and Mark were not amiss at all the sympathetic looks we received while Mumsie splattered on.

After dinner, I was given a not so subtle word to get changed for the party; and a word in my ear about what was waiting if I didn't find a girl tonight. I was also told by both parents to have fun but don't stay too late; another look from Mumsie told me not to worry about what time I got home as long as I found a girl SHE would approve of.

And so the party, minus parents, started, and I did my best to make myself invisible. One of the local well-known bands played for half the night then was replaced by another local band. Both were very good, though a bit loud for my tastes. A buffet had been set up, along with an assortment of beverages; even though no alcohol was provided since we were underage, some did "slip" into one of the communal watering barges at some point. Some from my class did stop by and talk for a bit, a couple of girls even asked if I wanted to dance. But I kept my distance, fearing Mumsie would help ruin any chance I would have had for friendship with these few classmates.

I stayed until about 2:30 a.m., knowing my parents would have gone to bed around midnight; I also didn't want to face Mumsie when I got home. I also knew once Mumsie fell asleep, nothing quiet would wake her. So I was very quiet when I entered the house and started up to my room.

"How was the party?" The quiet voice of my dad asked me, causing me to almost crap my pants.

I stepped down off the stairs, went over to him, and hugged him as tightly as I could; he did the same to me. "It was okay," I whispered to him as we hugged. "I stayed until I knew Mumsie would be in bed sound asleep, I couldn't face another of her rants." After telling dad this I could feel tears running down my face, dad must have felt them because he gently pushed me away from him and wiped them from my face.

"I know, Punkin, I know," was all he said as he pulled me to him again.

I didn't want dad to be caught flat-footed tomorrow, Sunday, so I was going to take a chance by telling him what we had planned.

"…dad?"

"What is it Punkin?"

"About tomorrow," I started, hesitant at first.

"What about tomorrow," he replied softly.

"The three of us are going to confront mom tomorrow afternoon. Her crap has got to stop." I said all of this in one breath, hoping I could still breathe after telling my dad.

"What do you plan to do?" Was all he quietly asked me, never giving me the slightest hint that he was upset with our plans.

"Well, you know Kelly has been interning with a large architecture firm don't you?" I asked as quietly as I could.

"Yes, dear, I do know, Kelly and I had a nice talk away from home a short time ago. And he explained everything that he was working on for you and Mark. He even showed me the house he's buying, a house large enough for three people to live in."

I pushed myself away from dad and looked up into his face with an astonished expression on my face. "And you never told Mumsie?"

"Honey, I know why you do it, but try not to call your mother Mumsie. And yes, I never told your mother, for various reasons. One reason I never told her because I knew what she'd do to you and Mark. I knew how much harder she'd make your lives."

"Is that why you never left, to keep Mark and me safe," I hesitantly asked dad as I looked into his eyes.

"Yes pumpkin, that's why I never left or opposed your mother, to help keep you and Mark safe." After my dad told me that, my love for him grew even stronger. He could have been so much more if he had gone on without Mumsie pulling him back into her clutches. He was offered a much better job within the corporation, but that job didn't fit into Mumsie's plans for Mark and me.

"Do you approve of our plan?" I asked, hoping he would after everything Mumsie had done to him as well.

"Yes I do, Punkin, and I agree it has to stop." Was all he said as he took my hand and led me up the stairs to my bedroom.

We entered my bedroom, I turned on the light, closed the door behind me and we sat on the bed. "Punkin I've known for a long time what your mother was doing had to stop. But not being around as much as I needed, kept me from making sure she didn't go overboard." Just then we heard a light knock on my bedroom door and Mark's head appeared around the edge of the door.

"Can I come in?" He asked, coming in any way.

As Mark walked over to the bed, my dad held out his arms and Mark fell into them. Both of us could hear Mark sobbing as my dad held him close, pushing him away to wipe tears from his cheeks.

"It's alright, squirt, it will be alright tomorrow." My dad told Mark, who immediately straightened up and shot me a look.

"It's okay Mark, Kelly told him everything. And he agrees with us." My telling Mark that caused him to relax and go back to hugging dad, something he's needed to do for a long time, but something Mumsie forbid.

It was going on 3 a.m. and dad suggested we get to bed, tomorrow was going to be a very trying day. Dad gave Mark a kiss on the cheek and saw him off to bed, lingering with me a few moments.

"You know she's not going to take it well, if at all," dad said, as he pulled me close.

"Yeah, I know, that's why Kelly talked to a lawyer." Dad let me go, I kissed him on the cheek, which he returned, said his goodnight and left me with my thoughts about tomorrow. SHE was NOT going to like it one bit. What we were going to do would put a severe crimp in HER plans for everyone. Plans none of us cared one iota about.

~~~ Chapter 5 ~~~

The church we were forced to attend "For the Greater Good," started at 10 a.m., so we'd leave the house by 9:15 a.m.; it was about a twenty-minute drive if traffic wasn't heavy. Mumsie usually made sure we were up by 8 o'clock in order to have time for breakfast, a shower, and a bit of Mumsie time before leaving for Church; Mark and I so loved to hate Mumsie time when she got on one of her rants, which was always.

After church, we'd go to a restaurant for dinner, then come home and rest in the afternoon. Then we'd leave the house by 6:15 in the evening for the 7 o'clock evening service, again, "For the Greater Good." Today was no different in Mumsie's mind, her plans for Sunday WERE going to be carried out, regardless. But we were going to put a crimp in those plans starting at 2 o'clock this afternoon. And one way or another, Mark and I would no longer exist.

It was 1 o'clock when we arrived home from the restaurant, and as usual, Mumsie sent Mark and me to our bedrooms to rest. But rest wasn't what Mark and I had planned, and we had but an hour to get changed. Tucked in the back of both our clothes closets were several dresses covered with plastic that Mark and I had smuggled into the house when Mumsie was out and about. We had picked them out during one of our secret meetings with Kelly, and his girlfriend, Carla, while we were at the Mall. Carla was as mad as Kelly when she heard what Mumsie had been having Mark and I do, so she was more than happy to play mom and help us with lingerie, shoes, and a few dresses that a girl needs to have.

Mark and I couldn't take the clothes and everything else home, so Kelly had kept them for us until we knew when Mumsie would be out, then we'd called him and he'd rush over with the dresses, shoes, and lingerie. It was nerve-wracking at times when Mumsie would pick out our clothing for the next day, believing she'd find our stash and go berserk. Thankfully it never happened.

I had locked my bedroom door after entering my bedroom and begun stripping off the clothing I'd been forced to wear for the past eighteen years. I wasn't rough removing the clothing, and I didn't care how they looked after I removed them or that they all landed up in a pile in the corner of my room. After the outer clothing was removed, the undergarments came next, particularly the binding Mumsie forced Mark and me to wear so our breasts would be hidden. And was I glad after I took that off because the pain had been getting progressively worse over the years.

Once I'd unbound my breast it was time to tackle the "thing" Mumsie made Mark and I wear between our legs. I pulled down the boy briefs I'd been forced to wear, tossed it onto the pile in the corner, and retrieved a bottle of solvent I had hidden away that Kelly had purchased for us at a local shop. The shop owner told Kelly how to use the solvent and Kelly told Mark and me how to use it, and use it we did; I took off that "thing" and it joined the rest on the pile in the corner of my bedroom. For the first time in five years, I could look upon myself in the mirror as I should have been allowed when I was born a girl eighteen years ago. And today was the day Michael was going to die and Michela would be born. It was also the day Mark would die and Marissa would be born. Today was the beginning of our new lives, lives we should have been living from the day we both were born eighteen and sixteen years ago.

After admiring how my body looked naked, I walked into my closet and chose the light blue skater dress from among the three we'd purchases while at the mall. I then pulled out the sack which contained the lingerie and the low heeled shoe purchased at the same time as the dress. I picked up one more sack, the sack containing the modest makeup we'd also purchased; thankfully Carla helped Marissa and I learn how to apply it moderately. I walked out of the closet, sat both sacks on my bed, and hung the dress up on the closet door.

Hugs and kisses to Carla for helping us learn how lingerie was supposed to be worn or we both might have looked pretty foolish. I put on the bikini panties then the bra, both of the same color. Then sat down to put on the hosiery Carla said would look good with what we'd choose to wear. Then it was time to put on my first dress, something we'd practiced at Kelly's apartment with Carla's help; she even gave us tips on how to easily zip up the zipper by ourselves. I couldn't help myself and walk over to the full-length mirror on the inside of the closet door. There, for the first time in her life, was a very attractive young woman staring back at me. And I loved what I saw. I glanced over at the clock and saw it was 1:55 p.m., time to get the show on the road. I walked over to my shoes, and having practiced with Carla, had no trouble putting them on while standing up. Showtime!!

Mumsie and dad's usual rest spot was sitting on the sofa. So neither Marissa nor I was worried she would be coming up to check on us, as we met just outside my bedroom door. Marissa looked lovely, despite the short hair, wearing a maroon skirt which hit her about mid-thigh, a white silk blouse with a stand-up collar and a ruffled front, and two-inch pumps which coordinated with her skirt. She looked every bit like the other your women we'd seen at school. And she looked very nervous.

Taking her hands in mine I told her, "don't worry, we have everything ready to go if 'it' throws a hissy fit." The nervous look faded, somewhat, but I could feel her hands trembling. The downstairs clock chimed 2 o'clock, so it was time we started down the stairs. Just as Marissa and I reached the bottom step, Kelly walked in through the front door with a satchel in hand. Both Marissa and I took the final step down and were met with hugs from Kelly, whispering how beautiful we both looked. "Let your hair grow," was the other thing he whispered.

Walking three abreast, we walked into the living room, and the temperature immediately rose to the flowing point of lava when Mumsie saw how Marissa and I were dressed.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU TWO BRATS THINK YOU'RE DOING?" Mumsie shouted as she got up from the couch. "GET YOUR ASSES BACK UPSTAIRS AND PUT ON PROPER CLOTHES." She yelled at us before turning her attention to Kelly.

"AND WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?" She yelled at Kelly.

"What does it look like?" I responded, knowing I'd just pushed the major 'you will never talk back to me' button. And I was right because her hand came up and started forward and was aimed at my face when Kelly caught her wrist and forcibly walked her back to the couch, where the back of her knees met the couch and caused her to sit down.

"YOU. WILL. NEVER. AGAIN. HIT. MARISSA OR MICHELA!!" Kelly growled into Mumsie's face, with a ferocious look on his face which even surprised dad.

"YOU. WILL. NEVER. AGAIN. FORCE. EITHER. TO. DRESS. AS BOYS!!" Kelly told Mumsie and forcibly released her wrist. Oh was she pissed now, smoking pissed.

Before Kelly could step back Mumsie tried to get up off the couch, but dad put an arm across her chest preventing the effort. "Just sit down," he told her, if a bit frosty.

Mumsie gave dad the coldest look I'd ever seen her give him, but stayed put, though still in a huff. "So! What's all this about?" Mumsie asked, trying to regain control of this situation, and giving us the opening we hoped we'd get; if Mumsie was anything she's predictable. And I took it with a full head of steam.

"This 'For the Greater Good' crap will stop and it will stop now," I told her with all the venom that had built over the last eighteen years.

"Mark and Mike are no longer going to be seen by anyone ever again," and I was getting louder too. "THEY BOTH DIED TODAY!!" Maybe I was too loud but that's how I felt right now.

"Marissa and Michela are the two the world will see from here on out," I basically spit out.

"You lay a hand on either Marissa or me and I'll have you arrested for assault. DO YOU HEAR ME??" I was beyond pissed now and I let the bitch know it.

"For eighteen of my years, and sixteen of Marissa's years, you've had us prancing around like two of your sons. Well, dammit, we are girls, females, and we've had enough of you and your precious, 'For the Greater Good!'"

"The greater good you always threw at us only benefited you, no one else. And in case you haven't realized it, MUMSIE, that catchphrase has gone out the window, taken a powder, left the planet. Mumsie! No one uses it anymore!" It all was coming out, everything I had to hold in the last eighteen years.

Mumsie had gone from red in the face to crimson to purple, she was that mad. Thankfully dad still held his arm across her chest, preventing her from getting off the couch. And he was listening in his 'listen to what they are saying' way, the way he did when troubleshooting a problem; his face gets this particular look when he's just listening.

"You ungrateful brats, look at everything I've given you!" Mumsie spewed, spitting the last part.

"Why without what I've done, 'For the Greater Good', you'd have nothing!" She basically spits out, emphasizing the 'For the Greater Good'.

"Marge," my dad started saying, "the only thing you and 'For the Greater Good' gave these girls is grief. And every friend they ever made or had. Your 'For the Greater Good' was only intended to benefit one person, you. It brought nothing to this family as a whole."

Mumsie's eyes went way wider than they should have, as she slowly turned her head to face dad. "Oh yeah, I know everything you've done to Marissa and Michela. I know about the beatings you gave them when I wasn't home. And how you justified everything you did by using that stupid catchphrase."

Dad looked at me when he said, "I also know how you tried to pre-enroll Michela into a pre-med program without her okay. I also know she's now pre-rolled in the University's art program, as she wanted, thanks to her high school counselor. And Marge, the only reason I stayed this long with you, putting up with the crap you were spewing, was to protect Marissa and Michela."

Mumsie's mouth fell open at dad's last revelation, and her eyes squinted almost completely closed, as she turned back to face the three of us. "So what, you brats think you will get your way while you're living here? Think again, you ungrateful bitches." Mumsie took her free hand and wiped the spit off her mouth.

"Yes we do, Mumsie," I told her, with an air of smugness, as I held out my hand to Kelly for the papers he had the lawyer prepare.

"These are papers Kelly had a lawyer prepare for just this reason," I told Mumsie as I held them up for her to see. "The top one is an affidavit from the lawyer attesting to the videos he viewed of you during you rant periods over the past years. This next one is an affidavit from a doctor attesting to the fact that both Marissa and I had been severely beaten over the years—he had child protective services come in and view what he was seeing. And this piece of paper is an emancipation declaration for Marissa since she is of legal age to have one filed for her."

I stopped there and watched as Mumsie digested what I had just told her, it didn't register in any way on her face. She didn't get it, didn't understand what I was telling her.

"Mumsie, we have enough evidence to have you arrested for child abuse, and have you put in jail," I said as firmly as I could, I was shaking that much. That did it, Mumsie went berserk, throwing off dad's arm, getting up off the couch and heading straight for me. Mumsie hadn't taken two steps when dad tackled her, causing her to fall face first with a sickening thud—broken nose?

The three of us never moved a muscle after Mumsie hit the floor, we didn't care if she broke her nose and any other part of her face; we hated her that much. Dad helped Mumsie to her feet then back to the couch, where he took out his handkerchief and gave it to Mumsie. Holding it to her nose, Mumsie tried her best to threaten us with every manner of punishment for spoiling her plans.

When she died down I told her, "You're WRONG, Mumsie, you'll not do any of the things you just said. As I told you, we have enough evidence on you to have you put in jail for a long time. We also have plans to file the emancipation declaration paper and have Kelly made Marissa's guardian." I let that sink in while dad went to the kitchen and came back with some ice wrapped in a towel.

"Marge," dad started, "I think it's a good idea you do not stay here tonight. Go check into a hotel and think about what you've been told, and decide whether or not you wish to amend your ways and stay with us, or go your own way."

Even with the ice pack on her nose, Mumsie's fiery look was still evident. "THE HELL YOU SAY!" Mumsie growled out, "THE HELL IF I'M LEAVING TONIGHT OR ANY OTHER NIGHT!" She growled again but was stopped cold by what dad told her next.

"Marge, if you don't go and check into a hotel, tonight, and think about everything we've said, and if you don't want to amend your ways and stay with us, then I'll have my lawyer file the abuse charges I had him prepare just for this occasion." When our dad was serious as a bullet, his posture and facial expression said 'don't mess with me'. And Mumsie knew it because that's what she saw as she gave dad an incredulous look.

"You wouldn't dare, how could you?" Mumsie told dad, her furry still present but more of a huge smolder.

As Mumsie watched, dad pulled out his cell phone and asked Mumsie, "do I call or do you leave for tonight." Right then she knew he was dead serious, would file the charges, and would protect his girls. As we all watched, Mumsie took the ice pack off her nose, it had stopped bleeding and didn't look broken.

"Alright, you win this round, I'll leave for tonight, but I'll be back and all of you will pay for what you've done. All of you may think you've ruined my plans but you're wrong. Dead wrong!" Mumsie told us as she got up off the couch and started for their bedroom.

Before she'd taken two steps dad spoke. "Marge," and Mumsie turned back to face him. "We aren't kidding about filing charges, the four of us. I've keep videos, they've keep videos, we have doctors' reports from over the years, enough to have you arrested and sent to jail." Mumsie just scoffed at what he just said, turned and before she started to strut down the hall to their bedroom dad raised the stakes a bit higher.

"Marge, I've also had my lawyer prepare the papers for a divorce," was all he said, which stopped Mumsie for a brief moment.

~~~ Chapter 6 ~~~

The four of us remained silent while waiting for Mumsie to pack whatever she would need for the night. Twenty minutes later she came down the hallway pulling her suitcase and carrying a makeup bag. As she reached the living room, dad stood up, reached to help her with her luggage but was told with a cold growl, "don't you dare." The four of us watched as Mumsie walked out of the house, watched from the window as she placed her luggage into the trunk of her car, get in the car, back out of the driveway and drive down the street. None of us were happy how this had to be played, but it had to be played if we all were going to remain sane. Yes, Mumsie had to be forced to make decisions she wasn't prepared to make, but it was better than thinking about visiting her in prison.

The silence after Mumsie left was short lived when dad told Marissa and me, "you girls look beautiful. I only wish this could have been years ago." It didn't take Marissa or me long to wrap dad in a hug which threatened to crush the life out of him after what he just said, as Kelly watched on with a bemused smile on his face. When we finished with dad we attacked Kelly in a like manner, and he returned the same to us.

"Well, that went better than I expected," dad said to no one in particular after our hug fest had ended.

I looked at dad as he said that and saw both a worried and relieved look on his face; he looked older than I remembered. "Do you think we did any good?" I asked dad as I walked over to him and gave him another, gentler, hug.

"Punkin, I'd like to think so, but I have a feeling she won't budge an inch in her belief that 'For the Greater Good' is the only thing that matters," he said as he kissed me lightly on top of my head while hugging me close to him. After putting up with her crap for eighteen years, I had a suspicion he was right, she'd never change.

While dad and I were talking, Kelly had wandered off towards the kitchen, mumbling something about needing something to eat. Knowing he was a bottomless pit, the three of us just chuckled and followed him.

I think all four of us were completely drained after our showdown with Mumsie because we hardly spoke as we dined on this and that which had been pulled from the fridge and cupboards. I think, too, we were thinking about what had just happened and how it would eventually end. And when we looked at each other, it was plain by the look on our faces that we all had to same belief that Mumsie had just paid us her last visit, that this was the last time she'd ever be in this house with us as a family.

After cleaning up our mess, Kelly said his goodbyes, kissing and hugging Marissa and me, and hugging dad before leaving. We insisted he takes the papers with him in case Mumsie tried something during the night. Afterward, the three of us sat and actually got to know each other better, dad asking most of the questions. It then got serious with dad asking about the papers Kelly had and Marissa and I asking about the possible divorce. It wasn't a happy discussion, but it was necessary. When dad saw that the two of us were having trouble staying awake, he said we should get to bed, each of us receiving a kiss and hug then a gentle push towards the stairs. Marissa and I hugged outside my bedroom door before we each went into our rooms. It had been a very trying afternoon.

I think I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow because I don't remember falling asleep. But whoever was beating that drum was doing so way too early in the morning. I groggily lifted my head and look at the clock on my night table, 7 o'clock, Monday morning, way too early for that drum. Thankfully the drumming stopped, and I laid my head back down but then heard very angry voices coming from downstairs. Mumsie was back, along with someone else, and she was boiling over.

It didn't take me long to throw back the covers and grab my robe, with the intention of going downstairs to see what was going on, when there was a soft knock on my door and Marissa stuck her head in.

"Mumsie's back, she has someone with her," Marissa said, coming over to me and grabbing onto me. "She's yelling something about getting me away from the freaks." I felt tears falling onto my shoulder as I held her and her me. I pulled Marissa closer to where I'd laid my cell phone, picked it up and dialed Kelly's number.

"…hello," he said in a very sleepy voice.

"She's back, she's pissed and has someone with her…," was all I said.

Those few words snapped him out any sleepiness because all he said in a very angry voice was, "we'll be right over." And he hung up.

What Mumsie never knew, never found out, that Carla was a practicing attorney, the same one who drew up all the papers Kelly brought over yesterday afternoon. What Kelly hadn't told us, or showed us, but we found out a bit later, he'd also had Carla draw up a restraining order just in case it was needed. And from the sounds we heard coming from downstairs, it just might be needed.

Taking Marissa's hand, I lead her out to the landing of the stairs, where we could hear but not be seen, yet. Mumsie was her usual 'For the Greater Good' crappy self, and so was the person with her.

"WHERE IS SHE, WHERE'S THAT BITCH?" We heard Mumsie yell. "GO GET THAT BITCH AND BRING HER DOWN HERE!! SHE NEEDS TO LEARN A LESSON SHE WON'T FORGET!!" There could only be one person she was talking about and that was me, the bitch who needed to learn a lesson.

"NO ONE IS COMING DOWN HERE UNTIL YOU SETTLE DOWN AND ALSO EXPLAIN WHO, THAT, IS!" We heard dad shout back, a bit icy. In past years we'd heard dad when he was angry, frustrated, and in shock, but never as he was at this moment. At this moment his voice even scared me, with that knife-edge honed to diamond sharpness.

Mumsie did calm down a bit, but only after she heard the ice in dad's voice, and the look on his face. "This person," she pointed to the man standing beside her, "is from the Country Club, one of our 'For the Greater Good' group.

Marissa and I looked at each other for a second before our heads fell and met in the middle. We couldn't believe it; Mumsie brought support from her group, someone who had no business being here at all.

"Yeah so, why's it here?" Dad asked Mumsie with a voice that was still tinged with ice.

"It's…He's here to prove that I've been right all along, that all of us should be doing what needs to be done 'For the Greater Good,' Mumsie said with an air of smugness.

"Hey, WHAT THE HEL…," we heard just before the front door slammed shut.

"WHY DID YOU DO THAT? YOU HAD NO RIGHT TO THROW HIM OUT," Mumsie bellowed, as Marissa and I fought hard not to laugh out loud.

"Another damn moron is NOT going to prove anything to this family, especially from that DAMN group!!" Dad was really pissed because he rarely swore.

We heard the front door open and close then from Mumsie, "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT AND WHOSE THAT PIG?"

Kelly had just arrived with Carla, we guessed, and just after Mumsie uttered those words we heard a fierce SLAP. "You'll pay for that you pig!" Mumsie said, only to receive another SLAP from Carla we guessed. Now that everyone was here I felt we'd better join the party and deliver the final blow.

Holding tightly to Marissa's hand, I lead her down the stairs and into the living room, stopping just at the entrance to the room; I wanted to keep some distance between us and Mumsie. "So there's the bitch that ruined my plans, plans that were going to raise me up in the eyes of the club members," Mumsie growled as she started a slow walk towards Marissa and me. She might have taken two steps before dad grabbed her arm and forcibly yanked her back.

"You're not going anywhere near the girls," dad told Mumsie with a mixture of steel and ice in his voice. Mumsie just glared at him and stood stock still. I had pushed Marissa a couple of steps back when Mumsie started towards us but pulled her back now that dad had stopped Mumsie.

"You were supposed to think about what we told you yesterday afternoon, but I see you just stewed about being thrown out for the night," dad told Mumsie as he walked closer to where Marissa and I were standing; likely to stop Mumsie if she made another play for us.

Very indignantly Mumsie said, "THERE was NOTHING to think over, all of you were WRONG and I was RIGHT. The club members said so."

Five mouths dropped open after hearing her declaration. Five sets of eyes looked at each other, not believing what they just heard. I think we'd all start laughing if the situation wasn't that serious.

"You were right and we were wrong, said your club members?" Dad queried Mumsie.

"That's right, that's what they said. They said I needed to teach that bitch a lesson and take the other son away from you freaks." We couldn't believe what Mumsie just said, again. She didn't realize how stupid she was sounding for what she was saying.

"So you're not going to come back to the family and leave the 'For the Greater Good' in the gutter?" Dad asked Mumsie, as he was shaking his head, knowing what was coming next.

"Why should I, it's the right way to think," Mumsie retorted to dad's question.

Dad held out his hand to Kelly who handed him a piece of paper. "This is an application for divorce, take it to a lawyer and have them get with the lawyer's name at the top of the sheet," dad told Mumsie as he handed her the piece of paper.

He again held out his hand to Kelly and received another piece of paper. "This is a copy of the declaration of emancipation that will be filled for Marissa, removing you as her parent." Again dad handed the piece of paper to Mumsie. "You'll note the time and date when you have to be in court for both of these actions." He said and stepped back towards Marissa and me.

"And this," Carla began, as she stepped towards Mumsie, handing her another piece of paper, "is a restraining order that mandates you not to enter this house without an invitation, not to be on the property unless invited, and you are not to have contact with Marissa or Michela in any manner." When she finished, she stepped back to stand once more by Kelly and looked into his eyes. "And to answer your first vulgar question, I'm Kelly's fiancée." Oh wow, our brother is getting married, and to a very nice girl, I thought to myself, but now was not the time to celebrate.

Mumsie's face dropped, as she looked at the papers she'd just been given, she knew she'd been beaten. "Marge, you can get what's his name and go pack what you can carry today and get out of this house. We'll schedule another time when you'll be allowed to come back and remove the rest of your things, any personal items you bought with you when we married. But nothing else leaves this house, no bedding, furniture, appliances, kitchen equipment, or anything else which belongs to this house," dad said these words in a much gentler manner than he first spoke to her. I think he still loved her but could no longer put up with the crap she was involved in and what it was doing to us.

The five of us watched as mom slowly walked to the front door, opened it and beckoned what's his name into the house. They had a few words before coming back into the living room and start the walk to my parents' bedroom. As what's his name followed mom, he glared at us the whole time until he was out of sight. Thirty minutes later mom and what's his name reappeared with four more suitcases and headed towards the front door without saying a word. Again as we watched through the front window, mom put three of the suitcases in the trunk and the fourth in the backseat, got in her car, backed out of the driveway and drive down the street. Perhaps now it was over and the four of us, plus Carla, could now become the family we should have always been.

~~~ Chapter 7 ~~~

During our talk with dad after mom left, Marissa told about the assessment test she should have taken because of her grades, and that Mumsie had put the kibosh on it being given. The very next day, Tuesday, dad, and Marissa went to the high school where dad questioned the Principal about the assessment test which had not been given to Marissa. Dad was told that Mrs. Briden had told the school that it was 'For the Greater Good' that Marissa stay in high school and graduate with her class, and that was why the test was never given. When dad heard 'For the Greater Good' being used to withhold a test, he almost flew off the handle, but instead, dropped his head in disbelief.

"What needs to happen for Marissa to be given the assessment test?" Dad asked the Principal once he, again, collected his wits.

"It's a simple process," the Principal said, "I call the test center and see when they could administer the test. And because the school has let out for the summer, they should be able to do it right away. If you'll wait for a few moments I call and get a date."

As the Principal picked up the phone to call the test center, dad and Marissa stepped out into the hallway to get some fresh air, and for dad to cool down a bit more. It wasn't long before the Principal stepped out of his office and told dad that the test could be administered tomorrow morning, if they were available. Dad said they were, and the Principal slipped back into his office and confirmed the date and time for the test with the test center.

"The test will be given Wednesday morning, tomorrow, starting at 9 a.m.," the Principal told dad. "Marissa won't have to bring anything with her, everything will be provided," the Principal said as he then shook dad's hand, offering his profound apologies for all the trouble this has caused. Dad had cooled off to the point that he graciously accepted the apology before he and Marissa left the school.

The following morning, Wednesday, dad drove Marissa to the high school for the assessment test. The tester told dad it would take about four hours for the test to be taken, and he should come back at that time. An hour and a half later dad received a call from Marissa saying she'd finished the test and would he come and pick her up. Needless to say, the tester was flabbergasted. The tester was even more flabbergasted when he learned that Marissa had aced the test, scored 100% across the board in English, Math, Science, History, and Social Science, and a couple other areas used to determine if the advanced placement was warranted. When the testing administrator learned of Marissa's score, he instantly gave dad a call. He'd checked past test scores and no one had EVER made a perfect score in all seven sections of the test, on in such short time. His conclusion, Marissa cheated.

When the administrator told dad that no one had ever scored a perfect score on the test and that he thought Marissa had cheated, dad hit the roof. "Listen to me, you stupid jackass, my daughter didn't cheat, my daughter studied on her own after becoming so bored in that school that she practically fell asleep every single day. So you think she cheated," dad told him as Marissa and I walked into the kitchen, "let me put you on hold for a moment and consult Marissa," dad told the man as he pressed the receiver to his chest.

"That STUPID jackass…he thinks you cheated, Marissa," dad told Marissa as the two of us looked on. "You received a perfect score in all the sections and this JACKASS has the gall to say you cheated!" Dad was now red in the face as he spoke.

"Dad…? Tell the jackass I'll take the test again, and he can sit in while I take it. And tell him I'll complete the test in an hour this next time."
This last sentence peaked dad's interest.

"If you're going to complete the test in an hour, why did it take you an hour and a half the first time?" A puzzled dad asked Marissa.

"Oh, I had an itch I couldn't get rid of and had to keep scratching it," was all Marissa said, which made dad give us a real deep belly laugh.

Dad got back on the phone and told the jackass that Marissa was willing to retake the test and would finish it in an hour this time. And that the administrator was welcomed to sit in while Marissa retook the test. Apparently, the reply didn't please dad because his face became a deep shade of violet,after which he slammed down the receiver. "Stupid moronic jackass," was all he said as he walked out of the kitchen, shouting over his shoulder, "the retest is tomorrow."

There's no need to go into a lot of detail about Thursday morning, the day Marissa retook the assessment test. She finished the test in the hour she promised, dad had sat outside the room waiting. The administrator did sit in on the test, and he even had the key with him so the test could be scored before Marissa left the room. She aced it again! She scored 100% across the board, again. The administrator had dad called in and told dad that he didn't know how, but Marissa had cheated again. In all his years of being the testing administrator, no one had ever scored 100% across the board on this test.

Dad had almost spent forty years as a corporate troubleshooter and knew road apples when he heard it. "Okay," dad started, in his very gentle voice, the voice we'd learned to fear most of all in this type of situation. "What I'm going to do is contact my lawyer and have her contact your lawyer and my lawyer is going to read your lawyer the riot act because of your stupidity. Then I'm going to have my lawyer call your boss's lawyer and ask why they hired such a moronic jackass who couldn't find his own butt with a map. Let's go, Marissa," dad finished as he took her hand and they walked out of the room, leaving the moronic jackass floundering for words.

Dad received a call that Saturday from his lawyer. The two lawyers she spoke with agreed something wasn't right and agreed to look into the situation but it would be Monday or Tuesday before they had any answers. Dad's lawyer told dad and the fence post, both lawyers thought that administrator was a joke, and they'd had complaints about him in the past. That he'd been warned by his boss not to try and use 'For the Greater Good' to hold students back. "Sun of a bitch…," dad said as he hung up the phone.

Marissa and I were standing right there during dad's last few words, "what dad?" I asked, not liking the color of his face. Dad pulled out a chair from the kitchen table and sat down hard.

"That stupid, moronic jackass is a member of the DAMN 'For the Greater Good' club Marge belongs to. DAMN IT ALL TO HELL!!"

Dad was shaking because he was that mad. Both Marissa and I went over and hug him until he had calmed down and stopped shaking. "Thank you girls, I so needed that," he told us as he put an arm around each of our waists and pulled us in close.

It was early Monday afternoon when dad received a call from his lawyer. Marissa and I wanted to leave him alone so he could talk but motioned us to stay, his face becoming brighter and brighter as he listened and spoke. After a few minutes, he hung up the phone and started laughing, and kept on laughing until tears were running down his face. "They fired that SOB, flat out fired him because of that stunt he pulled with both of your tests, Marissa," dad told us when he calmed down and could talk again.

"They had warned him several times in the past about using 'For the Greater Good' and this was the straw that broke the camel's' back. He was fired for cause, and he's not getting any severance pay." Dad said and started laughing again. I walked over and pulled a few tissues out of the tissue box and gave then to dad so he could wipe his eyes.

"The two tests you took Marissa were evaluated by that jackass's boss, and she saw no evidence of any cheating by you or anyone else. She even interviewed the tester and was told exactly how you acted during both tests. Next Monday you are going to receive your high school diploma!"

It took a few moments for what dad just said to sink in but when it did there was pandemonium in our kitchen. Dad even called and left a message for Kelly to let him know what had happened. Dad even invited him and Carla over Saturday for a celebration. It looked like we were going to have a very good summer.

~~~ Chapter 8 ~~~

Dad took Marissa up to the high school the following morning where she received her high school diploma, plus a few parting gifts from the Principal; he wished her the best for her future. Dad and Marissa then drove to the University where they spoke with a counselor who pulled up Marissa's records and the results of the assessment test. To say the counselor was impressed was an understatement, and she helped them both get Marissa pre-enrolled into the Architectural program, with a double minor in Mathematics and Engineering. She even helped them apply for a full scholarship based on Marissa's records. And yes, two days later dad received a call saying the University was granting Marissa a full academic scholarship. Now, the two of us were set for University in the fall, and dad was happier than we'd seen him in years.

The summer progressed without any unusual happenings, with Marissa and me finding part-time jobs to help keep us busy. And dad was the happiest we'd seen him in years; that might have something to do with his retiring after reaching his forty years with the corporation, and them wanting to hire him back as an independent troubleshooter at whatever rate he wished; they thought that much of him.

Dad's divorce was finalized and we never saw mom again. Dad was very generous with the division of assets, even giving her more than the decree directed. Oh, we heard about her and that club but were never again bothered by 'For the Greater Good'. That professor had it all wrong, using 'For the Greater Good' wasn't meant to award the person using the catchphrase, but the group as a whole. And had mom used it correctly maybe she'd still be with us today.

And that was the key to the catchphrase, the group as a whole. If something didn't benefit the whole then the part was also going to suffer, as we had over the years. If "For the Greater Good" was applied properly to a family it would help make for a stronger, more loving family unit. Because what's more important than a stronger and more loving family who will stand by each other through thick and thin, good times and bad. Isn't that, "For the Greater Good?"