12:15 PM Porky’s Barbecue Pit, Roswell New Mexico.
“I’m glad you could meet me here on such short notice, Jeff.”
“I’m really glad you called, Philip. I kind of wanted to be able to talk over a few things with you….without perhaps upsetting Nancy or Diane.”
“That was my thought too, Jeff. Jim Valenti seemed pretty upbeat about the possibility of eventually tracking the kids down, but what I was wondering was….well, what happens then?”
"My question exactly, Philip."
Philip Evans took a deep breath and slowly shook his head. “Well, Jeff, from the legal standpoint..if we find them fairly quickly, it’ll be pretty cut and dried. We can appeal to have the marriage annulled, and that’ll be very likely to be granted, just due to their ages. If it drags on longer….well, the closer they get to eighteen, the more likely it is that a judge might balk…especially if the kids fight it....and I was rereading their letters and…boy…it sure looks like they’ll fight it. I really had no idea that those two felt that much for each other.”
“It caught me by surprise too, Philip. If I’d had any idea this was about being friends for years…years of both of them being just too damn shy to do anything about how they felt…well, I might not have been taken so much by surprise by how they reacted…might have anticipated it at least, handled it differently.”
“Yeah….at least pull the Jeep keys BEFORE we told them they had to break it off…..although, I doubt that would have even worked.”
“Well, what’s done is done. We can’t put the genie back in the bottle…….and I wonder if that doesn’t sort of apply to the marriage, too.”
“I know what you mean. They ARE way too damn young but….realistically….unless they themselves decide that this was all a big mistake…”
“I sure as hell wouldn’t count on them deciding that…not from the look of those letters,,,,”
“Well, I think you’re right…but unless they did, …how do we actually keep them apart once we do get the marriage annulled?”
“Yeah, what’s to stop them from saying…we did our level best to do the honorable thing, ….and they wouldn’t let us ….. so maybe we ought to just go do it any way we can?”
“Jeff, I just don’t know what to say. From the few times I met Liz….well, she’s a lovely girl…a lovely young woman, really. But I would never have predicted Max would have done this….I certainly have no basis for predicting what Liz will do. As for Max…I’m not sure that Max has ever wanted something as badly in his life as he apparently wants Liz. I think we are in for the fight of our lives to keep them separated.”
“If we choose to fight….”
“How can we do anything but fight? Even if….hell, Jeff, even if we said, what’s done is done, let us help you get back to school, get back on track to go to college, even if we were willing to forgo the annulment and help them try to make the marriage work…what chance do you think they’d have….even if Diane and Nancy would buy into that plan….which they won’t.”
“No question of that. Nancy wants her baby back…no two ways about that. I doubt she’d buy off on her little baby staying married….belonging to somebody else…even someone like Max. I do have to admit that…well Max seems to really care for her…this wasn’t just all about sex and adolescent rebellion like we first thought. I mean…it was too soon…too soon for both of them….but Max …well Max was still a pretty good choice for her.”
“Yeah, if the kids were only eighteen….it’d be easy to go to Diane and say, hey let’s just try to help them make it work. If we really didn’t have the option to do anything else, I think Diane might just find a way to accept what’s happened. Hell, we could even have a second marriage, with family and friends around, just so they’d see we all supported them. But I’ll never sell that to Diane. She wants her little boy back too.”
“So what do we do? How do we get them to accept their marriage being annulled? Taking Liz’s trike away from her because she rode it out onto the road….that was fairly easy. Taking her…husband…away from her? Is she ever going to forgive me for that?”
“You or me either one? I mean, what happens when they turn eighteen? If nothing has changed…they just get married all over again. We would have caused them to be apart for eighteen months…to what end? So we could flip eighteen pages on a calendar? They’ll both hate us….or at least be damn mad, for a long time.”
“You know, the only way we get out of this is if we support the marriage. If it falls apart….then we can tell them they were too young and we told them so. If it doesn’t…well, then maybe they really can live happily ever after…..and they won’t hate us.”
“Logically, I think you are right. Trying to split them up at this point is going to be a lose-lose situation…but I don’t think we have any choice. We’d never sell the idea of them staying together to Diane or Nancy.”
Jeff shook his head sadly. “Nope, not a chance. Well, Jim hasn’t caught them yet…maybe we’ll think of something before then.”
“OK,” said Phil. “But let’s keep this conversation to ourselves. If the girls found out we were even considering letting Max and Liz stay married, there would be Hell to pay…”
“You got that right….”
Discipline Malfunction (M/L Mature) [COMPLETE]
Moderators: Itzstacie, Forum Moderators
1130 PST Red Flag Life Support briefing room, Nellis AFB, Nevada.
“Good morning, gentlemen, I’m TSgt Abrams and this is SSgt Browning. It appears that you two got the short straws in the drawing. We are here as a part of Red Flag to evaluate the quality of the Survival training you have been receiving in your base-level Life Support shops. The manner in which we do this is to equip you with the same survival gear that you carry in the ejection seats of your own aircraft. Today we are supported by an Army National Guard Blackhawk Detachmentt deployed here from Stead Field in Reno. You will be inserted into the Nellis Range Complex to simulate the situation of your aircraft being shot down in enemy territory. Your mission will be to escape the immediate area before unfriendly forces, today simulated by Reserve Pararescue technicians from California, can locate you and then to continue to evade until you can travel 5 miles to the pickup point given on the map, where you will again be extracted by helicopter. Sgt Browning and I will accompany you, then provide a critique of your performance. Do you have any questions?”
TSgt Abrams noted the good-natured griping coming from the two fighter pilots. This was NOT the part of Red Flag that they enjoyed. But like the rest, it had served the Air Force well. The F-16 pilot who had been shot down in Bosnia had come through this program. He had managed to conceal himself until he could direct his own pickup, despite being in an area of less than 4 square miles that had been searched by over 400 Serbian troops. They didn’t enjoy traipsing 8 miles through the desert to cover the 5 miles to the pickup point, or the nearly six hours they’d be out in the desert before they were on the returning aircraft, but there was no substitute for preparedness.
Thirty minutes later, the two survival instructors and the two fighter pilots were loaded in to the camouflaged UH-60 helicopter and the aircraft took off, headed north toward the huge Nellis range complex. Six miles later, the chatter on the radio got interesting….
“Nellis Tower, Flatiron 17, we are RTB at this time, with an emergency situation.”
“Copy Flatiron 17, state nature of the emergency.”
“We have a chip light on the annunciator panel….an indication of damage to the main transmission. This may just be a sensor problem, but we are returning to base for a maintenance check.”
“Flatiron 17, Nellis Tower, you are cleared direct from present position to helipad 4. We are rolling fire and medical units for you.”
“Copy cleared direct to pad 4, Flatiron 17.”
At that point, the intercom got interesting as well.
“AC, this is TSgt Abrams….what’s going on?”
“Probably no big deal. There is a sensor in the transmission housing. It has a magnet that pulls any loose metal in the transmission fluid toward it. If there is very much…even just fine metal shavings, it completes the circuit and lights the light. When that happens, we need to land and get the transmission checked out, just in case it is defective….starting to strip its gears. If the transmission were really to fail catastrophically….well that would be bad.”
“Define…bad.”
The flight mechanic chimed in at this point….”Well, the most likely is that it would just gradually fail, friction would build up, and we’d slowly lose power.”
“That’s the most likely….what’s the worst?”
“Well, the worst would be that the transmission would suddenly seize, the rotor mast wouldn’t be able to handle the torque of the rotor blade, and it would crack, then the rotor would sail away and we’d have nothing to keep us up…..but in twenty-six years of doing this, I’ve never had that that happen.”
“Well,” said TSgt Abrams, “..maybe I should find that reassuring, but I kind of think if you HAD had that happen, you probably wouldn’t be sitting here talking to us.”
“Ah, don’t worry…we’ll be fine.”
Four minutes later as they approached helipad 4, the aircraft commander slowed the aircraft, and as he did so the helicopter lost translational lift. The AC added power to offset the loss of lift and to flare the aircraft to soften the landing. As he did so, the transmission failed catastrophically locking the rotor mast abruptly, causing it to shear and be lifted completely from the aircraft. The aircraft fell four feet, landing hard. The seats deformed on impact to cushion the landing for the crew and passengers, however the tail rotor impacted hard, busting the entire tail boom away from the fuselage. Despite a small fuel spill, no fire ensued…because the aircraft was immediately doused with foam from three sides.
As the seven foam coated personnel were taken to the hospital to be examined, TSgt Abrams looked at the Flight Engineer. He shook his head. “Oh sure, we’ll be fine…..just another wonderful day in the Air Force.”
“Good morning, gentlemen, I’m TSgt Abrams and this is SSgt Browning. It appears that you two got the short straws in the drawing. We are here as a part of Red Flag to evaluate the quality of the Survival training you have been receiving in your base-level Life Support shops. The manner in which we do this is to equip you with the same survival gear that you carry in the ejection seats of your own aircraft. Today we are supported by an Army National Guard Blackhawk Detachmentt deployed here from Stead Field in Reno. You will be inserted into the Nellis Range Complex to simulate the situation of your aircraft being shot down in enemy territory. Your mission will be to escape the immediate area before unfriendly forces, today simulated by Reserve Pararescue technicians from California, can locate you and then to continue to evade until you can travel 5 miles to the pickup point given on the map, where you will again be extracted by helicopter. Sgt Browning and I will accompany you, then provide a critique of your performance. Do you have any questions?”
TSgt Abrams noted the good-natured griping coming from the two fighter pilots. This was NOT the part of Red Flag that they enjoyed. But like the rest, it had served the Air Force well. The F-16 pilot who had been shot down in Bosnia had come through this program. He had managed to conceal himself until he could direct his own pickup, despite being in an area of less than 4 square miles that had been searched by over 400 Serbian troops. They didn’t enjoy traipsing 8 miles through the desert to cover the 5 miles to the pickup point, or the nearly six hours they’d be out in the desert before they were on the returning aircraft, but there was no substitute for preparedness.
Thirty minutes later, the two survival instructors and the two fighter pilots were loaded in to the camouflaged UH-60 helicopter and the aircraft took off, headed north toward the huge Nellis range complex. Six miles later, the chatter on the radio got interesting….
“Nellis Tower, Flatiron 17, we are RTB at this time, with an emergency situation.”
“Copy Flatiron 17, state nature of the emergency.”
“We have a chip light on the annunciator panel….an indication of damage to the main transmission. This may just be a sensor problem, but we are returning to base for a maintenance check.”
“Flatiron 17, Nellis Tower, you are cleared direct from present position to helipad 4. We are rolling fire and medical units for you.”
“Copy cleared direct to pad 4, Flatiron 17.”
At that point, the intercom got interesting as well.
“AC, this is TSgt Abrams….what’s going on?”
“Probably no big deal. There is a sensor in the transmission housing. It has a magnet that pulls any loose metal in the transmission fluid toward it. If there is very much…even just fine metal shavings, it completes the circuit and lights the light. When that happens, we need to land and get the transmission checked out, just in case it is defective….starting to strip its gears. If the transmission were really to fail catastrophically….well that would be bad.”
“Define…bad.”
The flight mechanic chimed in at this point….”Well, the most likely is that it would just gradually fail, friction would build up, and we’d slowly lose power.”
“That’s the most likely….what’s the worst?”
“Well, the worst would be that the transmission would suddenly seize, the rotor mast wouldn’t be able to handle the torque of the rotor blade, and it would crack, then the rotor would sail away and we’d have nothing to keep us up…..but in twenty-six years of doing this, I’ve never had that that happen.”
“Well,” said TSgt Abrams, “..maybe I should find that reassuring, but I kind of think if you HAD had that happen, you probably wouldn’t be sitting here talking to us.”
“Ah, don’t worry…we’ll be fine.”
Four minutes later as they approached helipad 4, the aircraft commander slowed the aircraft, and as he did so the helicopter lost translational lift. The AC added power to offset the loss of lift and to flare the aircraft to soften the landing. As he did so, the transmission failed catastrophically locking the rotor mast abruptly, causing it to shear and be lifted completely from the aircraft. The aircraft fell four feet, landing hard. The seats deformed on impact to cushion the landing for the crew and passengers, however the tail rotor impacted hard, busting the entire tail boom away from the fuselage. Despite a small fuel spill, no fire ensued…because the aircraft was immediately doused with foam from three sides.
As the seven foam coated personnel were taken to the hospital to be examined, TSgt Abrams looked at the Flight Engineer. He shook his head. “Oh sure, we’ll be fine…..just another wonderful day in the Air Force.”
1130 Commander’s Office, Det. 24 Area 51, Nevada
Although he had wanted to see him in an hour, it took almost the whole morning before Slammer could get Captain Hawthorne worked in to his schedule. There had first been the reception, then seeing off the departing commander. The program brief from the Security Manager itself had taken almost 2 hours, but had only really given slammer the briefest of details about the research work itself, and almost no information on the history of the detachment. The Program Security Manager himself was an employee of the prime contractor. Slammer had tried to ask him key items that he would need to command the detachment, including specific areas being researched and budgets of the research programs. The man had seemed uncertain about the first, and somewhat evasive about the latter. He needed far better information than he had. His compartmentalized to-do list had grown continually throughout the morning. Slammer knew that, generally speaking, you didn’t make big changes immediately after taking over a command. If it was working well beforehand, you wanted to get to understand it before you tinkered with it. But from what the Chief of Staff had said, Det. 24 had NEVER worked well. And that was certainly borne out by what he’d seen this morning. Changes would be needed, sooner rather than later.
“Col Randolph, Captain Hawthorne is here to see you.” Announced the intercom.
“Have him come in, Doris.”
The door opened and the young Captain came in, he came to attention in front of the desk and saluted. “Captain Hawthorne, reporting as ordered, sir”
Slammer returned the salute, then said “Good to see you again, Captain Hawthorne. Have a seat.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“What did you think of the change of command ceremony?”
“Uh….it was….uh ..very…..uh…unique, sir.”
“Yes, unique would about cover it. Unique is kind of the opposite of uniform. We had some kind of unique uniforms out there today, didn’t we, son?”
“Well, yes, I suppose so, sir.”
“So, how many appropriate uniforms did we have out there today, Captain Hawthorne?”
“Well sir, excepting yours…well, I only saw mine.”
“Actually, yours was missing a meritorious service ribbon too, Captain. I remember pinning that medal on you myself.”
Captain Hawthorne blushed and looked flustered. “Sorry sir…my mistake.”
“Have you worn that uniform at all since you went off on your PhD program?”
“No sir, I wasn’t allowed to wear it at Berkeley, then when I was assigned here my supervisor told me not to wear it my first trip here. I carried it up to my quarters and…well, this has been the first occasion to wear it since my arrival…and I just forgot the ribbon, sir.”
“Well don’t feel bad, by comparison with everybody else here, you did great. How long have you been here, son?”
“About six months, sir.”
“What do you think of the place?”
“It’s uh----unique, sir.”
Slammer laughed. “It is that. Well, it’s going to wind up being less unique. What are you currently working on?”
“Sir, I’m working with LtCol Barker on project 14B….we believe it’s a mechanism for inertialess acceleration.”
“Son, I’m afraid I’m just a plain old fighter pilot, you are going to have to translate that one.”
“Well sir, we believe the mechanism we are studying allows high rates of acceleration, without squashing the crew flat. The F-16, for example, can pull about nine Gs. In full gear, you feel like you weigh about one ton.”
”That experience I’ve had. OK, what does your gadget do.”
“Well, in theory, you could have any amount of acceleration fifty…one-hundred g’s, anything the engine could provide, and you’d still be at one g.”
“Now that WOULD be worthwhile. How close are you to having that?”
“Sir, …..nobody has ever figured out how to get the pod open, we’ve never gotten inside of it…..all we have are theories.”
“Well, you have to start somewhere. This project has been going on for six months then?”
“Oh no, sir. I was assigned to the project 6 months ago. The project has been going on since the inception of Area 51…back in 1948.”
“And you haven’t gotten the lid off the box?”
“That’s right, sir.”
“Well how many people are working on this project…what’s your budget.”
“There’s twenty of us, sir. I’ve never been told the budget….but judging by the equipment, it’s a lot.”
“Well son, they are just going to have to get along without you. You have a new job now. You’re the Detachment Executive officer. I need someone to translate this science gibberish to something a fighter pilot can understand, and you are elected. I need to get smart about this place quickly, and YOU are going to help me. We also need to get out the word to every single person that was not in an appropriate uniform…which is everybody, and tell them that they better get ready, because they are back in the Air Force. “
“Yes sir.”
Although he had wanted to see him in an hour, it took almost the whole morning before Slammer could get Captain Hawthorne worked in to his schedule. There had first been the reception, then seeing off the departing commander. The program brief from the Security Manager itself had taken almost 2 hours, but had only really given slammer the briefest of details about the research work itself, and almost no information on the history of the detachment. The Program Security Manager himself was an employee of the prime contractor. Slammer had tried to ask him key items that he would need to command the detachment, including specific areas being researched and budgets of the research programs. The man had seemed uncertain about the first, and somewhat evasive about the latter. He needed far better information than he had. His compartmentalized to-do list had grown continually throughout the morning. Slammer knew that, generally speaking, you didn’t make big changes immediately after taking over a command. If it was working well beforehand, you wanted to get to understand it before you tinkered with it. But from what the Chief of Staff had said, Det. 24 had NEVER worked well. And that was certainly borne out by what he’d seen this morning. Changes would be needed, sooner rather than later.
“Col Randolph, Captain Hawthorne is here to see you.” Announced the intercom.
“Have him come in, Doris.”
The door opened and the young Captain came in, he came to attention in front of the desk and saluted. “Captain Hawthorne, reporting as ordered, sir”
Slammer returned the salute, then said “Good to see you again, Captain Hawthorne. Have a seat.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“What did you think of the change of command ceremony?”
“Uh….it was….uh ..very…..uh…unique, sir.”
“Yes, unique would about cover it. Unique is kind of the opposite of uniform. We had some kind of unique uniforms out there today, didn’t we, son?”
“Well, yes, I suppose so, sir.”
“So, how many appropriate uniforms did we have out there today, Captain Hawthorne?”
“Well sir, excepting yours…well, I only saw mine.”
“Actually, yours was missing a meritorious service ribbon too, Captain. I remember pinning that medal on you myself.”
Captain Hawthorne blushed and looked flustered. “Sorry sir…my mistake.”
“Have you worn that uniform at all since you went off on your PhD program?”
“No sir, I wasn’t allowed to wear it at Berkeley, then when I was assigned here my supervisor told me not to wear it my first trip here. I carried it up to my quarters and…well, this has been the first occasion to wear it since my arrival…and I just forgot the ribbon, sir.”
“Well don’t feel bad, by comparison with everybody else here, you did great. How long have you been here, son?”
“About six months, sir.”
“What do you think of the place?”
“It’s uh----unique, sir.”
Slammer laughed. “It is that. Well, it’s going to wind up being less unique. What are you currently working on?”
“Sir, I’m working with LtCol Barker on project 14B….we believe it’s a mechanism for inertialess acceleration.”
“Son, I’m afraid I’m just a plain old fighter pilot, you are going to have to translate that one.”
“Well sir, we believe the mechanism we are studying allows high rates of acceleration, without squashing the crew flat. The F-16, for example, can pull about nine Gs. In full gear, you feel like you weigh about one ton.”
”That experience I’ve had. OK, what does your gadget do.”
“Well, in theory, you could have any amount of acceleration fifty…one-hundred g’s, anything the engine could provide, and you’d still be at one g.”
“Now that WOULD be worthwhile. How close are you to having that?”
“Sir, …..nobody has ever figured out how to get the pod open, we’ve never gotten inside of it…..all we have are theories.”
“Well, you have to start somewhere. This project has been going on for six months then?”
“Oh no, sir. I was assigned to the project 6 months ago. The project has been going on since the inception of Area 51…back in 1948.”
“And you haven’t gotten the lid off the box?”
“That’s right, sir.”
“Well how many people are working on this project…what’s your budget.”
“There’s twenty of us, sir. I’ve never been told the budget….but judging by the equipment, it’s a lot.”
“Well son, they are just going to have to get along without you. You have a new job now. You’re the Detachment Executive officer. I need someone to translate this science gibberish to something a fighter pilot can understand, and you are elected. I need to get smart about this place quickly, and YOU are going to help me. We also need to get out the word to every single person that was not in an appropriate uniform…which is everybody, and tell them that they better get ready, because they are back in the Air Force. “
“Yes sir.”
1217 PM Det 1 126th Medical Company (Air Ambulance) Maintenance Facility, Stead Tahoe Airport, Reno Nevada.
RINNNNGGGG
CW2 Olson picked up the phone. “Det 1 Maintenance.”
“Sir, this is Spec4 Roman down at Nellis. Did you get the word about aircraft 437?”
“Yeah, we’ll be sending a maintenance officer down to be on the mishap board….probably Captain Collins.”
“That’s fine sir, but what I was calling about is that now leaves us down to two aircraft. 283 is due a hot section inspection in about fifteen hours. Can we do that through the Air Force down here?”
“I don’t think so…let me check the records……. No, 283 is also due an NDI on the rotor blades at the same time, and we are switching out the tail rotor to the Mark III version. It’ll probably be better if we just fly that one back here and due it. I’ll talk to the ops people…we can probably get someone to fly one of the ones up here just coming out of inspection down there and swap out for the 283 bird. We’ll need four hours to fly it up here though, so don’t let them fly it more than another ten or eleven hours.”
“When would that be?”
“We’ll try to make it Saturday…I’ll keep you posted. In the meantime, try and schedule all the longer flights on your other bird, it’s still got quite a bit of time before its next phase inspection.
“OK, sir. I’ll let everyone know.”
Olson dialed the phone. “Ops…we are going to need a replacement bird for the broken one and we have a bird down at Nellis that’s going to need to be swapped out for maintenance. Any chance of ginning up a couple of flights down on Saturday? Everybody can come back in the returning bird. OK, I’ll get the flights scheduled then.”
RINNNNGGGG
CW2 Olson picked up the phone. “Det 1 Maintenance.”
“Sir, this is Spec4 Roman down at Nellis. Did you get the word about aircraft 437?”
“Yeah, we’ll be sending a maintenance officer down to be on the mishap board….probably Captain Collins.”
“That’s fine sir, but what I was calling about is that now leaves us down to two aircraft. 283 is due a hot section inspection in about fifteen hours. Can we do that through the Air Force down here?”
“I don’t think so…let me check the records……. No, 283 is also due an NDI on the rotor blades at the same time, and we are switching out the tail rotor to the Mark III version. It’ll probably be better if we just fly that one back here and due it. I’ll talk to the ops people…we can probably get someone to fly one of the ones up here just coming out of inspection down there and swap out for the 283 bird. We’ll need four hours to fly it up here though, so don’t let them fly it more than another ten or eleven hours.”
“When would that be?”
“We’ll try to make it Saturday…I’ll keep you posted. In the meantime, try and schedule all the longer flights on your other bird, it’s still got quite a bit of time before its next phase inspection.
“OK, sir. I’ll let everyone know.”
Olson dialed the phone. “Ops…we are going to need a replacement bird for the broken one and we have a bird down at Nellis that’s going to need to be swapped out for maintenance. Any chance of ginning up a couple of flights down on Saturday? Everybody can come back in the returning bird. OK, I’ll get the flights scheduled then.”
1:45PM Tonopah Nevada.
As the small child knocked his toy from the highchair, Liz quickly kneeled to pick it up and hand it back to her. As she stood up she remembered immediately why kneeling was a bad idea, wincing slightly. The problem was really twofold.
The first was the damn thong. She’d gotten the thong at the same time she’d gotten the negligee….the one she’d taken back unworn. A pity she didn’t do it with the thong as well. It was the most uncomfortable damn underwear Liz had ever worn in her life.
She’d gotten it because she thought that Max might like her in it and of course…it was just the opposite. It wasn’t that Max liked her bikini briefs better than the thong, necessarily, just that when they got to that particular point in their flirting and foreplay…well, he’d just as soon she wasn’t wearing anything.
But since she’d bought it, she had to try to wear it, and it felt terrible, like being high-centered on a strand of dental floss.
And even that wouldn’t have been bad, if she hadn’t already been kind of sore. And it wasn’t like Max hadn’t warned her. ‘Look,’ he’d said, ‘we’re still kind of new at this and…not that I’m complaining, but if we keep this up you are going to be kind of…sore.’
He’d warned her of this last night, warned her twice…or was it three times? He’d warned her THREE times….and once this morning as well, but she hadn’t listened. And now she was being rasped even more raw by the damn thong.
Liz had just ordered her own lunch, and one for him. It had been nice of Betty Ann to make their lunches coincide. That had let them send the email yesterday, and they’d be able to sit and eat together today. That is, if she could sit down, as chafed as she was.
Liz looked out at Max, behind the registration desk. She still could barely believe it. He was so caring, so considerate, such a kind and thoughtful lover. And if they hadn’t simply fallen asleep on that blanket, how long would it have been before she would have known such happiness.
As she turned back toward the order window, the thong rode up painfully once again. ‘Damn, maybe I’ll have time after Max and I have lunch to go up to the room and trade this stupid thong for regular underwear. This is getting nothing but worse.’
She took two steps more toward the order window and froze. ‘How stupid are you, Liz?” she asked herself. “If he can fix a gunshot wound…surely he can fix a few abrasions.”
Liz walked back to the order window. “Hey Arnie, that last order for the two burgers and fries…make that a to-go, OK?”
“Sure thing, Beth.”
Liz smiled as she looked back toward Max. ‘Maybe if we eat fast, he can heal me.....and we’ll still have time for a quickie….’
As the small child knocked his toy from the highchair, Liz quickly kneeled to pick it up and hand it back to her. As she stood up she remembered immediately why kneeling was a bad idea, wincing slightly. The problem was really twofold.
The first was the damn thong. She’d gotten the thong at the same time she’d gotten the negligee….the one she’d taken back unworn. A pity she didn’t do it with the thong as well. It was the most uncomfortable damn underwear Liz had ever worn in her life.
She’d gotten it because she thought that Max might like her in it and of course…it was just the opposite. It wasn’t that Max liked her bikini briefs better than the thong, necessarily, just that when they got to that particular point in their flirting and foreplay…well, he’d just as soon she wasn’t wearing anything.
But since she’d bought it, she had to try to wear it, and it felt terrible, like being high-centered on a strand of dental floss.
And even that wouldn’t have been bad, if she hadn’t already been kind of sore. And it wasn’t like Max hadn’t warned her. ‘Look,’ he’d said, ‘we’re still kind of new at this and…not that I’m complaining, but if we keep this up you are going to be kind of…sore.’
He’d warned her of this last night, warned her twice…or was it three times? He’d warned her THREE times….and once this morning as well, but she hadn’t listened. And now she was being rasped even more raw by the damn thong.
Liz had just ordered her own lunch, and one for him. It had been nice of Betty Ann to make their lunches coincide. That had let them send the email yesterday, and they’d be able to sit and eat together today. That is, if she could sit down, as chafed as she was.
Liz looked out at Max, behind the registration desk. She still could barely believe it. He was so caring, so considerate, such a kind and thoughtful lover. And if they hadn’t simply fallen asleep on that blanket, how long would it have been before she would have known such happiness.
As she turned back toward the order window, the thong rode up painfully once again. ‘Damn, maybe I’ll have time after Max and I have lunch to go up to the room and trade this stupid thong for regular underwear. This is getting nothing but worse.’
She took two steps more toward the order window and froze. ‘How stupid are you, Liz?” she asked herself. “If he can fix a gunshot wound…surely he can fix a few abrasions.”
Liz walked back to the order window. “Hey Arnie, that last order for the two burgers and fries…make that a to-go, OK?”
“Sure thing, Beth.”
Liz smiled as she looked back toward Max. ‘Maybe if we eat fast, he can heal me.....and we’ll still have time for a quickie….’
3:00 PM Tonopah Nevada
If you wanted to rob a restaurant in Nye County….well, this wouldn’t have been the right one. There were three Nye County Sheriff’s office vehicles and two New Mexico State Patrol cars parked outside, and the five officers were having coffee at their usual table. All five were socializing….it got lonely in a solo patrol car in the vast empty expanse of Nye County, but for Deputy Sheriff Michael Walker it wasn't just the fellowship. He was also watching the young waitress out of the corner of his eye. No, he hadn’t found the right APB yet, but he was most of the way through the California ones.
‘If she’d have only looked me straight in the eye, even once, I wouldn’t have been sure,’ he told himself. But she hadn’t….she hadn’t looked any of them in the eye, no doubt afraid her face would give away that she was a fugitive….but it had anyway. Not to the other four, but it had to him. He sipped his coffee slowly, listening to the State Patrol officer tell about his daughter’s first day at school. Hard for him to really imagine that someday his three month old would go to school….or be sixteen or seventeen…like that waitress. Only Deputy Sheriff Michael Walker was pretty sure, his little Alissa Sarah would never be on the run like the young waitress almost certainly was.
Arnie was a good hearted soul and like many cooks, he really enjoyed watching people enjoy the food he prepared for them. But by the same token, he kind of got vexed when someone did something to their food like slathering too much mustard on it, that ruined the taste. As he watched her pull another cold French fry out of the to-go bag he shook his head.
“Beth,” he told her, “you’d enjoy it a lot more if you took time from whatever you were doing to eat the French fries and burger while they were still warm.”
She watched as he turned back to the grill. The flush was just fading from her cheeks from the activities of an hour ago. Now she flushed just a little more as she shook her head softly and thought to herself,
‘Arnie, you have no idea how enjoyable it can be letting French fries cool.’
The flush gradually faded from her face and,…. elsewhere.. , the silver iridescence gradually faded as well……..
If you wanted to rob a restaurant in Nye County….well, this wouldn’t have been the right one. There were three Nye County Sheriff’s office vehicles and two New Mexico State Patrol cars parked outside, and the five officers were having coffee at their usual table. All five were socializing….it got lonely in a solo patrol car in the vast empty expanse of Nye County, but for Deputy Sheriff Michael Walker it wasn't just the fellowship. He was also watching the young waitress out of the corner of his eye. No, he hadn’t found the right APB yet, but he was most of the way through the California ones.
‘If she’d have only looked me straight in the eye, even once, I wouldn’t have been sure,’ he told himself. But she hadn’t….she hadn’t looked any of them in the eye, no doubt afraid her face would give away that she was a fugitive….but it had anyway. Not to the other four, but it had to him. He sipped his coffee slowly, listening to the State Patrol officer tell about his daughter’s first day at school. Hard for him to really imagine that someday his three month old would go to school….or be sixteen or seventeen…like that waitress. Only Deputy Sheriff Michael Walker was pretty sure, his little Alissa Sarah would never be on the run like the young waitress almost certainly was.
Arnie was a good hearted soul and like many cooks, he really enjoyed watching people enjoy the food he prepared for them. But by the same token, he kind of got vexed when someone did something to their food like slathering too much mustard on it, that ruined the taste. As he watched her pull another cold French fry out of the to-go bag he shook his head.
“Beth,” he told her, “you’d enjoy it a lot more if you took time from whatever you were doing to eat the French fries and burger while they were still warm.”
She watched as he turned back to the grill. The flush was just fading from her cheeks from the activities of an hour ago. Now she flushed just a little more as she shook her head softly and thought to herself,
‘Arnie, you have no idea how enjoyable it can be letting French fries cool.’
The flush gradually faded from her face and,…. elsewhere.. , the silver iridescence gradually faded as well……..
Last edited by greywolf on Sun Jan 21, 2007 1:28 am, edited 1 time in total.
5:00 PM The Crashdown, Roswell New Mexico
Two groups of four were sitting in their own different tables. Michael, Maria. Alex, and Isabel sat together in the corner, talking in whispered tones about Max and Liz, where they might be, and what they might be doing. It was much the same at the center table, where the Parkers and the Evans were worrying three cups of coffee, neither hungry nor really thirsty, but using the caffeine to stave off the effects of five restless nights.
“Did he tell you what his news was?” asked Nancy.
“No dear, just that he wanted to give the four of us some recent information they had discovered. I told him that Philip and Diane were already here, so he said he’d just run over and talk to us.”
“Well I know that Angela has been querying all the state vital statistics departments west of the Mississippi. Maybe they found something.”
“I hope so Diane,” said Philip. “Before we can do anything else, we have to at least find them.”
‘Yeah,’ thought the three other parents simultaneously, ‘but what the hell do we do then?’ In fairness, Philip was asking himself the same thing.
Even across the room at the other table, the conversation came to a complete halt as the Sheriff’s car parked outside, and eight people were holding their breaths as he came through the door, waiting for his words.
“Well, we caught a break. On the 25th of February at 7:55 PM Mr. Max Evans, age eighteen, and Miss Elizabeth Parker, age eighteen, were granted a marriage license by the Clark County Clerk in Las Vegas Nevada. We don’t yet have the paperwork from whoever performed the service, they have another three days to report that, but we have no reason to expect they were telling us anything but the truth…that they used that license to get married.”
“But neither one of them are eighteen…how could they do that?” asked Jeff.
“Well, there are a variety of possibilities. They MIGHT have used fake ID. But that’s just speculation. The County Clerk MIGHT have made an error. They hit his office 5 minutes before it closed, after a long busy day. People make mistakes.”
“But how would the license be valid then?”
Philip answered, “The license is valid because the clerk, by law, issued it in good faith based upon the documents available to him. If the kids had forged a parental approval, …well…we might have been able to get it annulled based upon that alone, because it was fraudulently issued. The same if we could prove they used false ID…but there’s no way to do that. So legally they are married until it’s shown in court that they aren’t of legal age, and even then they have an opportunity to convince the judge that they ought to be allowed to remain married….although the chance of him going along with that….at least if we catch them promptly, is low.”
“But if they had left falsified permission slips, then we could have gotten it annulled even without them present?” asked Nancy.
“Well….yes…I suppose we could but…but I wouldn’t have done that anyway, said Philip.
“I don’t understand, Philip,” said Nancy. “I thought you were dead set against this?”
“Well, I am. I think this was very…ill advised. But Liz…..well, Liz is a fine young lady and …it’s pretty apparent that the kids are now …well, …I just wouldn’t want Liz to find out after we catch up to them that she’d not really been married to Max for the last few days…or nights..of what I’m sure they consider to be their honeymoon. I mean, no matter what…I think we need to have them be married ..at least until we can separate them. I think we at least owe Liz that much.”
“Let’s not talk about annulment right now, Philip,” asked Diane. “Let’s just consider one thing at a time…and the first thing is finding them.”
“Well,” said Jim Valenti, “..now that we know the state is Nevada, that makes it a whole lot easier. It’s a huge state, but it only has seventeen counties. They all previously got our APB, but it was probably a little hard for them to take seriously, coming from this far away. Now that we know Nevada is the state, we are sending out a fax to all seventeen county sheriff offices, giving their descriptions, indicating that they are now married and apparently both gainfully employed. It’s entirely possible they moved on to California or somewhere else, and we’ll do the same for the other adjoining states tomorrow, but if they haven’t gotten out of the state yet, well we ought to have a lot of Sheriff’s deputies looking for them after tomorrow morning.” Sheriff Valenti got up from the chair and started for the door. “I’ll keep in touch, and let you know the moment I hear anything.”
1700 Det. 24 Area 51, Nevada
The order was sent out by email and posted on every bulletin board in area 51;
6PM Nye County Sheriff's Office North Area Command, Tonopah Nevada
The fax machine whirred briefly, and the paper fell in to the basket. The night duty officer looked at it casually. 'Another APB,' he thought. 'Let's see, Mike was looking at all of these....no doubt he'll want this one too.' He made a file copy, double checked to make sure the deputy had already gone home for the night, then put it in the top of his inbox when he'd be sure to find it whan he came in to start his shift at 10:00 AM tomorrow. He sat down to read the file copy himself but it was Friday night, and Deputy Barnhart had just brought in two drunks that had been in a bar brawl, then tried to drive off. He put the copy in the file and began to process the two into the drunk tank for an overnight stay.
Two groups of four were sitting in their own different tables. Michael, Maria. Alex, and Isabel sat together in the corner, talking in whispered tones about Max and Liz, where they might be, and what they might be doing. It was much the same at the center table, where the Parkers and the Evans were worrying three cups of coffee, neither hungry nor really thirsty, but using the caffeine to stave off the effects of five restless nights.
“Did he tell you what his news was?” asked Nancy.
“No dear, just that he wanted to give the four of us some recent information they had discovered. I told him that Philip and Diane were already here, so he said he’d just run over and talk to us.”
“Well I know that Angela has been querying all the state vital statistics departments west of the Mississippi. Maybe they found something.”
“I hope so Diane,” said Philip. “Before we can do anything else, we have to at least find them.”
‘Yeah,’ thought the three other parents simultaneously, ‘but what the hell do we do then?’ In fairness, Philip was asking himself the same thing.
Even across the room at the other table, the conversation came to a complete halt as the Sheriff’s car parked outside, and eight people were holding their breaths as he came through the door, waiting for his words.
“Well, we caught a break. On the 25th of February at 7:55 PM Mr. Max Evans, age eighteen, and Miss Elizabeth Parker, age eighteen, were granted a marriage license by the Clark County Clerk in Las Vegas Nevada. We don’t yet have the paperwork from whoever performed the service, they have another three days to report that, but we have no reason to expect they were telling us anything but the truth…that they used that license to get married.”
“But neither one of them are eighteen…how could they do that?” asked Jeff.
“Well, there are a variety of possibilities. They MIGHT have used fake ID. But that’s just speculation. The County Clerk MIGHT have made an error. They hit his office 5 minutes before it closed, after a long busy day. People make mistakes.”
“But how would the license be valid then?”
Philip answered, “The license is valid because the clerk, by law, issued it in good faith based upon the documents available to him. If the kids had forged a parental approval, …well…we might have been able to get it annulled based upon that alone, because it was fraudulently issued. The same if we could prove they used false ID…but there’s no way to do that. So legally they are married until it’s shown in court that they aren’t of legal age, and even then they have an opportunity to convince the judge that they ought to be allowed to remain married….although the chance of him going along with that….at least if we catch them promptly, is low.”
“But if they had left falsified permission slips, then we could have gotten it annulled even without them present?” asked Nancy.
“Well….yes…I suppose we could but…but I wouldn’t have done that anyway, said Philip.
“I don’t understand, Philip,” said Nancy. “I thought you were dead set against this?”
“Well, I am. I think this was very…ill advised. But Liz…..well, Liz is a fine young lady and …it’s pretty apparent that the kids are now …well, …I just wouldn’t want Liz to find out after we catch up to them that she’d not really been married to Max for the last few days…or nights..of what I’m sure they consider to be their honeymoon. I mean, no matter what…I think we need to have them be married ..at least until we can separate them. I think we at least owe Liz that much.”
“Let’s not talk about annulment right now, Philip,” asked Diane. “Let’s just consider one thing at a time…and the first thing is finding them.”
“Well,” said Jim Valenti, “..now that we know the state is Nevada, that makes it a whole lot easier. It’s a huge state, but it only has seventeen counties. They all previously got our APB, but it was probably a little hard for them to take seriously, coming from this far away. Now that we know Nevada is the state, we are sending out a fax to all seventeen county sheriff offices, giving their descriptions, indicating that they are now married and apparently both gainfully employed. It’s entirely possible they moved on to California or somewhere else, and we’ll do the same for the other adjoining states tomorrow, but if they haven’t gotten out of the state yet, well we ought to have a lot of Sheriff’s deputies looking for them after tomorrow morning.” Sheriff Valenti got up from the chair and started for the door. “I’ll keep in touch, and let you know the moment I hear anything.”
1700 Det. 24 Area 51, Nevada
The order was sent out by email and posted on every bulletin board in area 51;
- Reply to CCV (Captain Hawthorne)
To: All departments
Subject: Commander’s orientation
The new Commander will be taking an orientation tour of all Det 24 facilities commencing 0800 tomorrow. Attached is a tentative schedule. Please have a brief five to ten minute briefing by a department spokesman of the functions and research programs associated with each department and every working group within that department.
For the Commander
James Hawthorne, Capt USAF
Detachment Executive Officer
6PM Nye County Sheriff's Office North Area Command, Tonopah Nevada
The fax machine whirred briefly, and the paper fell in to the basket. The night duty officer looked at it casually. 'Another APB,' he thought. 'Let's see, Mike was looking at all of these....no doubt he'll want this one too.' He made a file copy, double checked to make sure the deputy had already gone home for the night, then put it in the top of his inbox when he'd be sure to find it whan he came in to start his shift at 10:00 AM tomorrow. He sat down to read the file copy himself but it was Friday night, and Deputy Barnhart had just brought in two drunks that had been in a bar brawl, then tried to drive off. He put the copy in the file and began to process the two into the drunk tank for an overnight stay.
8:00PM The Parker Residence, Roswell New Mexico.
The discussion had moved up to the Parker’s living room, away from the four teenagers hanging out in the restaurant below.
It had started with Philip’s statement that he really wouldn’t have wanted to annul the marriage without the kids knowledge because it just wouldn’t have been fair to Liz for her to be on what she thought was a honeymoon….doing what the two of them were almost certainly doing, thinking she was married when she wasn’t. So if it WAS OK for them to be doing that, because they WERE married, Diane had asked…. What exactly WERE thy all upset with the kids about?..The discussion had turned quite lively.
“Well they shouldn’t have stayed out all night together….that’s how this whole thing started,” said Jeff Parker.
“No,” said Nancy. “They shouldn’t have. But they did. They did something they weren’t entitled to do, because they were just kids, kids who didn’t know one another all that well, and kids who were too immature for any sort of real commitment.”
“Except they apparently knew each other a whole lot more than we thought they did, back when that happened,” said Diane.
“And even if they didn’t……..they damn sure do now,” said Jeff, somewhat resignedly.
“Well we certainly can’t let them get away with running off, can we?” asked Philip.
“Philip, darling, they HAVE gotten away with running off….Haven’t you noticed the empty bedroom at the end of the hall the past several nights?”
“Maybe we need to ask ourselves, since they have run away….since they have committed to one another….just why we are going after them,” said Nancy. “Is it really to help them…or just to show them who is boss?”
“They are still only sixteen, dear,” said Jeff. “They are too young to be on their own.”
“But Liz was going to be on her own at that boarding school, Jeff,” said Diane. “All by herself, without a single friend…..and without Max.”
“Well, that’s because we didn’t want her to be with Max, didn’t want them to have premarital sex.”
“Well at least we seem to have won that point with them,” said Nancy. “Now the only issue is how, once we get an annulment, we keep them from having post-marital sex, just like Philip was talking about.”
“I don’t know, Nancy,” said Philip. “If being married before having sex was all this important to them, I’m not sure they would continue, once we got it annulled.”
“Well that’s just great, Phil. You mean, you think we never really had anything to worry about with them staying out all night to begin with? But now that they have been married, we get that annulled, everything goes back to the way it was? I don’t think so, dear. An annulment isn’t going to annul a week of memories. Didn’t you see in her letters how proud she was that her last name is Evans? Didn’t you see how proud Max was of that?”
Philip looked at Jeff pleadingly. Jeff shrugged. “Well you know, Jeff and I were talking about that. Neither of us really thinks that this is going to work out….but we are both kind of afraid that if we terminate the marriage….well, if the kids never do get back together, they’ll always blame us….whereas if we did our best to help them and the marriage didn’t work out…well we could still get it annulled at their request up until they are nineteen…so they really wouldn’t have to go through a divorce.”
Jeff said, “You know, what’s done is done. If this all falls apart on them…well, that’ll no doubt be more painful for both of them than anything we would ever do to punish them. And if it doesn’t…if they really are mature enough, committed enough, ….love each other enough to make this work….if that’s the case…I’m not sure it would be fair to separate them….just to show them who was boss. If they are really that committed to each other … maybe they need to be their own bosses.”
“You know, we could help them find a small apartment, maybe even help out with the rent a little. It wouldn’t cost much,” said Diane.
“We could tell them we’d do our best to help them make this work. Help them with finances…whatever their jobs don’t cover, so they could come back and attend school. It might all fall apart…..but we could try,” said Nancy. “Just insist that Liz stays on the pill, until they see if this is going to work out.”
”No,” said Jeff and Philip simultaneously.
“Philip, Jeff…it wouldn’t be that much money…,” said Diane.
“You misunderstand, Diane.” Said Jeff Parker.
“Yes dear,…Nancy,” said Philip. “We can’t tell them we think they are adults with strings attached. That’d be lying, and they’d know it. If we say it’s OK for them to be married, we are saying they are adults. Sure, we can help them with some money…they are still our kids. But you don’t dictate to a husband and wife what they can and can’t do about sex or having children. If we don’t trust them to make those decisions, then we shouldn’t let them stay married. This is where we have to draw a line in the sand……we either let them be adults or we keep them kids…what’s it going to be? We can’t have it both ways.”
There were a lot of panicky looks in the room. There was no course free of considerable risk. In the end, all four decided that sometimes you just have to go with your hopes and not your fears.
“I say let them stay married,” said Diane.
“Me too,” said Nancy.
Jeff Parker merely nodded.
“Well, Diane, I guess we have a new daughter.”
The discussion had moved up to the Parker’s living room, away from the four teenagers hanging out in the restaurant below.
It had started with Philip’s statement that he really wouldn’t have wanted to annul the marriage without the kids knowledge because it just wouldn’t have been fair to Liz for her to be on what she thought was a honeymoon….doing what the two of them were almost certainly doing, thinking she was married when she wasn’t. So if it WAS OK for them to be doing that, because they WERE married, Diane had asked…. What exactly WERE thy all upset with the kids about?..The discussion had turned quite lively.
“Well they shouldn’t have stayed out all night together….that’s how this whole thing started,” said Jeff Parker.
“No,” said Nancy. “They shouldn’t have. But they did. They did something they weren’t entitled to do, because they were just kids, kids who didn’t know one another all that well, and kids who were too immature for any sort of real commitment.”
“Except they apparently knew each other a whole lot more than we thought they did, back when that happened,” said Diane.
“And even if they didn’t……..they damn sure do now,” said Jeff, somewhat resignedly.
“Well we certainly can’t let them get away with running off, can we?” asked Philip.
“Philip, darling, they HAVE gotten away with running off….Haven’t you noticed the empty bedroom at the end of the hall the past several nights?”
“Maybe we need to ask ourselves, since they have run away….since they have committed to one another….just why we are going after them,” said Nancy. “Is it really to help them…or just to show them who is boss?”
“They are still only sixteen, dear,” said Jeff. “They are too young to be on their own.”
“But Liz was going to be on her own at that boarding school, Jeff,” said Diane. “All by herself, without a single friend…..and without Max.”
“Well, that’s because we didn’t want her to be with Max, didn’t want them to have premarital sex.”
“Well at least we seem to have won that point with them,” said Nancy. “Now the only issue is how, once we get an annulment, we keep them from having post-marital sex, just like Philip was talking about.”
“I don’t know, Nancy,” said Philip. “If being married before having sex was all this important to them, I’m not sure they would continue, once we got it annulled.”
“Well that’s just great, Phil. You mean, you think we never really had anything to worry about with them staying out all night to begin with? But now that they have been married, we get that annulled, everything goes back to the way it was? I don’t think so, dear. An annulment isn’t going to annul a week of memories. Didn’t you see in her letters how proud she was that her last name is Evans? Didn’t you see how proud Max was of that?”
Philip looked at Jeff pleadingly. Jeff shrugged. “Well you know, Jeff and I were talking about that. Neither of us really thinks that this is going to work out….but we are both kind of afraid that if we terminate the marriage….well, if the kids never do get back together, they’ll always blame us….whereas if we did our best to help them and the marriage didn’t work out…well we could still get it annulled at their request up until they are nineteen…so they really wouldn’t have to go through a divorce.”
Jeff said, “You know, what’s done is done. If this all falls apart on them…well, that’ll no doubt be more painful for both of them than anything we would ever do to punish them. And if it doesn’t…if they really are mature enough, committed enough, ….love each other enough to make this work….if that’s the case…I’m not sure it would be fair to separate them….just to show them who was boss. If they are really that committed to each other … maybe they need to be their own bosses.”
“You know, we could help them find a small apartment, maybe even help out with the rent a little. It wouldn’t cost much,” said Diane.
“We could tell them we’d do our best to help them make this work. Help them with finances…whatever their jobs don’t cover, so they could come back and attend school. It might all fall apart…..but we could try,” said Nancy. “Just insist that Liz stays on the pill, until they see if this is going to work out.”
”No,” said Jeff and Philip simultaneously.
“Philip, Jeff…it wouldn’t be that much money…,” said Diane.
“You misunderstand, Diane.” Said Jeff Parker.
“Yes dear,…Nancy,” said Philip. “We can’t tell them we think they are adults with strings attached. That’d be lying, and they’d know it. If we say it’s OK for them to be married, we are saying they are adults. Sure, we can help them with some money…they are still our kids. But you don’t dictate to a husband and wife what they can and can’t do about sex or having children. If we don’t trust them to make those decisions, then we shouldn’t let them stay married. This is where we have to draw a line in the sand……we either let them be adults or we keep them kids…what’s it going to be? We can’t have it both ways.”
There were a lot of panicky looks in the room. There was no course free of considerable risk. In the end, all four decided that sometimes you just have to go with your hopes and not your fears.
“I say let them stay married,” said Diane.
“Me too,” said Nancy.
Jeff Parker merely nodded.
“Well, Diane, I guess we have a new daughter.”
11:30 PM Corner of Acacia Avenue and West Compton Boulevard, Compton California
“Hey man…you got some blade?”
‘Did Ricky have some blade? Sure Ricky had some blade. Ricky had the best damn blade on the street,….that wasn’t the question.”
“The question, man, is do you have the money?”
“How much you asking?”
“$200 a gram….”
”$200 a gram? You got to be shitting me, man. Over in Torrance I know a guy…sells it for $150.”
“Well you ain’t in Torrance, fool. And this ain’t no stinking yaba either. This is the pure stuff, none of your stinking peanut butter crank. You want quality…you gotta pay the price.”
“But I’m gonna put down some real coin, man. I’m buying like 20 grams. Don’t I get SOME kind of discount?”
“Twenty grams? That ain’t so much. But I’ll give you a deal, man. Twenty grams for $3500.”
“That’s still…..$175 a gram. What do I have to do to get a REAL discount?”
Ricky smiled. Hell, he knew there was a big shipment coming in tomorrow. When it hit town it would drive prices down, probably to below $125 a gram. If he could unload what he had now at $150 a gram, he could go home, tend to momma, and buy it all back tomorrow afternoon at $100 a gram, for his Saturday night sales.
“Tell you what, my man. I have 45 grams for sale. Buy it all, and I’ll give it to you for $150 a gram, that’s $6750. You got $6750, man?”
The buyer looked hesitant. “Hey, I got $6718…..and bus fare home. How about it?”
Ricky laughed. “Make it $6700, and take a cab on me. Ricky hates the friggin bus.”
The money and the meth quickly changed hands. Almost immediately two men came out of the darkness and grabbed Ricky. The ‘buyer’ looked up and smiled. “Too bad you don’t like buses, Ricky. You’re going to be on one going to prison.”
The senior DEA agent walked slowly from the van, where the transaction had been videotaped.
“Ricky, Ricky, Ricky. This is the third time for you, isn’t it. And over an ounce, too. You got any idea how many years you’re going to get for this.?”
Ricky was scared, real scared. He DID know what he could expect on a third offense. And he did know that Agent Fowler loved to hammer people…the bigger the better.
“Agent Fowler…you don’t want me…..I’m nothing, less than three ounces a week, man, that’s all I ever sell, that’s the truth. I can put you onto almost 800 pounds of crystal….you and me, we need to deal, man.”
Agent Fowler kept a poker face. He thought that Ricky probably had a line on the next shipment, That was why he’d set this up. It was an imperfect world. Sometimes you had to go easy on the little fish to catch the big fish. “Well what do you have in mind, Ricky.”
“Well, maybe if I give you the word on the shipment…you could maybe lose 40 grams of that on the way to your evidence room?”
“What…tamper with the evidence, Ricky?”
“No…no….hell no….but…well maybe you could find some kid with ADD or something. It might do him some good..?”
“I don’t think so, Ricky, but we’ll talk to the District Attorney, see what we can come up with. You’ll have to do some time though. “
”Well hell yeah, but….you know, if we could keep it down to two years and then that probation shit….maybe one of those ankle things…..I could reform, you know.”
“Sure, Ricky…..I’m sure you will. Let’s go talk to the DA.”
“Hey man…you got some blade?”
‘Did Ricky have some blade? Sure Ricky had some blade. Ricky had the best damn blade on the street,….that wasn’t the question.”
“The question, man, is do you have the money?”
“How much you asking?”
“$200 a gram….”
”$200 a gram? You got to be shitting me, man. Over in Torrance I know a guy…sells it for $150.”
“Well you ain’t in Torrance, fool. And this ain’t no stinking yaba either. This is the pure stuff, none of your stinking peanut butter crank. You want quality…you gotta pay the price.”
“But I’m gonna put down some real coin, man. I’m buying like 20 grams. Don’t I get SOME kind of discount?”
“Twenty grams? That ain’t so much. But I’ll give you a deal, man. Twenty grams for $3500.”
“That’s still…..$175 a gram. What do I have to do to get a REAL discount?”
Ricky smiled. Hell, he knew there was a big shipment coming in tomorrow. When it hit town it would drive prices down, probably to below $125 a gram. If he could unload what he had now at $150 a gram, he could go home, tend to momma, and buy it all back tomorrow afternoon at $100 a gram, for his Saturday night sales.
“Tell you what, my man. I have 45 grams for sale. Buy it all, and I’ll give it to you for $150 a gram, that’s $6750. You got $6750, man?”
The buyer looked hesitant. “Hey, I got $6718…..and bus fare home. How about it?”
Ricky laughed. “Make it $6700, and take a cab on me. Ricky hates the friggin bus.”
The money and the meth quickly changed hands. Almost immediately two men came out of the darkness and grabbed Ricky. The ‘buyer’ looked up and smiled. “Too bad you don’t like buses, Ricky. You’re going to be on one going to prison.”
The senior DEA agent walked slowly from the van, where the transaction had been videotaped.
“Ricky, Ricky, Ricky. This is the third time for you, isn’t it. And over an ounce, too. You got any idea how many years you’re going to get for this.?”
Ricky was scared, real scared. He DID know what he could expect on a third offense. And he did know that Agent Fowler loved to hammer people…the bigger the better.
“Agent Fowler…you don’t want me…..I’m nothing, less than three ounces a week, man, that’s all I ever sell, that’s the truth. I can put you onto almost 800 pounds of crystal….you and me, we need to deal, man.”
Agent Fowler kept a poker face. He thought that Ricky probably had a line on the next shipment, That was why he’d set this up. It was an imperfect world. Sometimes you had to go easy on the little fish to catch the big fish. “Well what do you have in mind, Ricky.”
“Well, maybe if I give you the word on the shipment…you could maybe lose 40 grams of that on the way to your evidence room?”
“What…tamper with the evidence, Ricky?”
“No…no….hell no….but…well maybe you could find some kid with ADD or something. It might do him some good..?”
“I don’t think so, Ricky, but we’ll talk to the District Attorney, see what we can come up with. You’ll have to do some time though. “
”Well hell yeah, but….you know, if we could keep it down to two years and then that probation shit….maybe one of those ankle things…..I could reform, you know.”
“Sure, Ricky…..I’m sure you will. Let’s go talk to the DA.”
5:45 AM The Silver Nugget Room, Tonopah Nevada
As she opened her eyes and looked at the wallpaper she smiled. She was spooned up against him, his right hand just brushing the top of her pubic hair, one finger making slow little circles. She wasn’t sure he was even awake, they’d had another ‘busy’ night. She remembered what her mother had said…could that only have been eight or nine days ago?
‘Once you enter that world...you know, sexual intimacy...everything changes.’
And it had changed, Mom had been right....but life was like that. Her life had changed forever one day when a little brown eyed boy had stepped down from a schoolbus, his sister at his side. It had changed again when she’d needed a lab partner in seventh grade and gone up to him, and certainly when she’d felt the slap of the bullet enter her abdomen, and looked up at those eyes…those eyes that seemed to be so deep you could see eternity in them, the eyes that she was sure were going to be the last thing she would ever see….was that really only five months ago?
But this change was particularly nice. Liz knew if she merely positioned herself a couple inches different, her body would start to respond to those gentle caresses, start to prepare itself for yet another trip into the silver iridescent fog, into the passion and the fire, then the warmth and closeness and holding….oh yes, this was a delightful change, a change that forged them into oneness…one flesh.
She knew she should probably let the poor dear rest. They were getting up in fifteen minutes anyway. It was their first day off their jobs, but it’d be a busy one, trying to get the duplex ready for them to move into tomorrow. They had lots to do….
She slowly slid his hand down just a few inches, feeling the warmth build….the need build within her. Her body gave little jumps as it felt his fingernails gently caress her, then his fingertips moved slowly downward to touch her softly, feeling the moisture as her body opened itself to his touch..almost begging for his entry.
“You know, we really do have a busy day ahead of us, Liz.”
She laughed softly. Who was he kidding? His body’s response was even more apparent than hers. And she loved that too, that just with a movement, just with a touch, just with a look in her eyes, she could take him to that world….no matter if he originally planned to go there or not.
She turned to face him and kissed him deeply, enjoying even the coarse feel of his unshaven face against her mouth, the hair on his chest brushing against her breasts.. delighting in every sensation...…knowing the power she had over him, the power they had over each other.
“Well, then I guess you’d better get started then, Mr. Evans…otherwise we’ll never get to that busy day.”
Eight minutes later they were both lost in that silver iridescent cloud…but lost together. It would be a quickie….they DID have a busy day ahead of them. But this was a nice way to start it.