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<1st attachment, "Tom's_Diary_4-08-02.doc" begin>

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

	The following is fiction of an adult nature.  If I believed in
setting age limits for things, you'd have to be eighteen to read
this and I'd never have bothered to write it.  IMHO, if you can
read and enjoy, then you're old enough to read and enjoy.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

	All persons here depicted are figments of my imagination and any
resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly a blunder on my
part.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

	Official stuff:  Story codes: teen, con.

	If stories like this offend you, you will offend ME if you read
further and complain. Copyright 2003, by Gina Marie Wylie.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

	I can be reached at gmwylie98260@hothothotmail.com, at least if
you remove some of the hots.  All comments and reasoned
discussion welcome.

Below is my site on ASSTR:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Gina_Marie_Wylie/www/

My stories are also posted on StoriesOnline:
http://Storiesonline.net/

And on Electronic Wilderness Publishing:
http:// www.ewpub.org/

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++	

Tom's Diary

Monday, April 8, 2002

	I'm not sure why it is, but it is.  You can go to school for
weeks and weeks, and getting up in the morning is no big deal. 
Take a week off, and the first day, getting up is a big deal.

	The alarm had been going off for a maybe a half minute before
Jenny grumpily pushed it off.  JR muttered something about she
was "Going to sleep another few minutes while Jenny and you
shower."

	Jenny got up and told me that she was going to shower by
herself, so I decided to be clever.  Mom and Dad had their own
bathroom, JR used the one downstairs.  I hustled myself down
there with my things, and then shook JR when I got back to the
room.

	She was curled up into a ball, obviously in a lot of pain.  I
went back downstairs and found Mom in the kitchen, getting things
out for breakfast and told her.  She went up to see to JR, while
I took over the breakfast chores.

	Shortly Mom was back, saying that JR wasn't going to school
today.  That wasn't a problem for me.  A bit later I took Jenny
over to Mary's, picking up Elizabeth and Shannon, getting a smile
and a thanks from Mary for a reward.  That worked!

	I don't know how it is at other high schools, I just know what
it's like at mine.  You are supposed to be there at 8:15 in the
morning; that's what's called first bell.  That means you have
five minutes to make it to Home Room.  I guess the purpose is to
give you a little warning; seems kind of dumb to me.

	Then there's Home Room.  My Home Room teacher is Mr. Miller, who
teaches shop.  That is both wood and auto shop; I have no idea
what qualifies you to get that job, but as near as I can tell
he's the most cynical person I've ever met.  Second Bell is at
8:20.  In Mr. Miller's Home Room you are in your seat then,
because he takes attendance by putting an 'X' on the seating
chart where there is an empty seat.  It doesn't matter if you're
actually there, but standing and talking to someone else; it
doesn't matter if you come through the door just as the bell
rings.  Nope, what counts is being in your seat when he's marking
attendance.

	As a result, unlike some Home Rooms I've had in my two prior
years in high school, Mr. Miller's room is settled and ready at
Second Bell.  Even after Spring Break, we were all in our seats,
in various degrees of wishing we were elsewhere.

	Mr. Miller is the one and only Home Room teacher I've seen who
can actually get attendance done in the minute before the
intercom pops and we listen to the daily announcements from
Camilla Bowles, the Student Body President.  Mr. Miller expects
you to sit still through the announcements, then as far as he's
concerned, he's done with us.  At 8:30 is Third Bell, which is
the start of the five minute passing period before the start of
First Period, the first academic class of the day.  Most of us
get up as soon as the announcements are done and head to our
first class.  Why not?

	So it was, just like usual.  Bells, sitting down like good
little robots, then announcements, then everyone started to get
up, me included.

	"Mr. Ferguson, may I see you for a moment?" Mr. Miller said as
the room started to stand up.

	I had no idea, none, what I'd done to earn his attention, so,
being more curious than concerned, I walked up to his desk.

He handed me a folded note.  "Doctor Stone would like to see you
in his office at 11 AM this morning."

	I opened the note; that's what it said.  Just a simple, "Please
report to the Principal's Office at 11:00 AM Monday, April 8th."

	I'd never been in trouble in my life, so I simply shrugged and
put the note in my pocket.  I was unprepared when Mr. Miller
spoke again.

	"Tom, I've never had you in a class, but you're in my Home
Room."  That was self evident, so I shrugged.  "You will probably
want to call your parents and have one or both of them present
when you report to the office.  Dr. Stone intends to have your
head."

	I blinked, completely clueless.

	"Why?"

	"I'm a student of the Far East, Tom.  I don't know a single
culture over there that doesn't have the aphorism 'The nail that
sticks up is hammered down.'  You, Tom, have stuck out for the
last couple of weeks.  He can't do much of anything, and he's
looking for a scapegoat."

	It was Mr. Miller's turn to shrug.  "I don't approve, but then,
I'm not the principal."

	"I haven't done anything!"  It was simple, I thought.  I hadn't
done anything wrong, at least nothing that the school would be
taking note of.

	"Tom, call your parents."

	I went out in the hall, now pretty much deserted and considered
for a moment.  Dad was a new vice president at his company.  Mom
had said earlier this morning the bank was upset because she'd
missed so much time in the last two weeks.  She had said they
could just live with it, but she'd made a point of saying she was
going to having a busy week, and planned on going every single
day.

	Mary was in worse shape than either of them, new at her job and
Elizabeth had caused her to miss days, so had her husband.  Uncle
Craig was busy getting a move organized, Aunt Shirley was helping
with that.  In any case, I'd rather have a ten principals on my
case than have to ask Uncle Craig for help.

	So, I could go by myself, I could call the lawyers or do
something else.  Mr. Miller was sarcastic and cynical.  He also
had organized Home Room better than any other teacher I'd seen. 
He wasn't a fool, then.  So, if he said I needed my parents
there, he was serious.

	I picked up my phone and pushed a quick dial number.  "Eleanor,
this is Tom Ferguson."

	"Hello, Tom," she replied.  "I hope nothing's come up, I told
Marcus you'd be there tomorrow."

	"That's still on, Eleanor, but I find I'm in need of your
services."

	There was a perceptible pause on the other end of the line. 
"Pardon?" she asked, confused.

	"I'm supposed to go see the principal at eleven this morning. 
My Home Room teacher suggested I have my parents come along, that
I was in major trouble.  Eleanor, I don't know what your schedule
is today, but I could sure use a helping hand."

	"And your parents?"

	"Have missed a lot of work the last couple of weeks, what with
one thing and another."

	"Tom, I know your father practically owns his company.  I
suspect your family could buy the bank your mother works for."

	"Eleanor, they feel they owe their employers, no matter what,
their best.  They feel like they've taken too much time off
lately, so while I could ask, and they would come, it wouldn't be
good.  I have no idea what this is about, and I can't help but
think it's bogus, but it would be nice to have a friendly face in
my corner.  This is as a friend, not as Eleanor Johannsen,
Children Services.  Sister Mary Catherine, the Carmelite nun,
instead."

	"I can be there at eleven.  North High, right?"

	"That's right."

	"I have court this afternoon, I can't be much later getting
downtown than one."

	"I can't imagine what this is about, so I don't figure it will
amount to much."  Ah, the voice of youth  and inexperience!

	The morning seemed to pass with glacial slowness.  Finally I
stood up in class, showed the note to the teacher, who reacted
badly to the interruption, and I walked down the empty hallways
towards the office.

	I smiled at Eleanor, who was already in the office.  I walked up
to the school secretary's desk and told them who I was and that
Principal Stone had asked to see me.

	The secretary picked up a phone, and a moment later, Mr. Jones
came out.  I'd never met him, or Principal Stone; I'd seen them
both at assemblies though.  Mr. Jones was the Vice Principal, the
person who normally was in charge of discipline.

	"Mr. Ferguson?" he asked.

	I nodded, and he waved to the office and I started forward, and
Eleanor followed behind me.  He blinked when she moved forward
with me.  "Ms. Johannsen?" he said, as confused as I was.

	"Brad, Tom asked me to come along.  I'm here as a friend."

	He looked at her for a second, then we resumed the parade into
the principal's office.

	Doctor Stone, an occasional voice on the intercom, someone I'd
seen at assemblies a couple of times.  He was in his sixties,
thin and balding, formerly blonde, I thought.  What little hair
he had left was colorless, not white.  He waved me to a chair,
and I decided then and there that if I was in a chair, he'd be in
his element.

	"I'll stand," I said mildly.  "Sir, what can I do for you?"

	"Mr. Ferguson, you are suspended for the rest of the week.  Mr.
Jones will give you the paperwork."

	I'd been told, but I'd not believed.

	"Sir, I think I should be told what rule or rules I've broken. 
I haven't done anything that I can think of, offhand."

	"You were in an altercation a couple of weeks ago with Roger
Parker.  Blows were exchanged."

	"No, sir," I said straight off, "that's not true.  No blows were
struck by either side.  The teachers there did send Roger to the
office; they didn't send me.  No blows were struck, and Roger was
back in class at the end of lunch."

	"You were involved in a further altercation with Roger Parker a
few days later at a basketball game.  Friends of  yours then
kidnapped Parker and took him out into the desert."

	That time, I really did blink.  My friends?  The football team?
"I think, sir, that if you were to ask the members of the
football team if I was their friend, you'd get a vast chorus of
'Who's he?'"

	He ignored me.  "You were involved with three young men who beat
and raped a girl, one of whom subsequently committed murder."

	I was unprepared again, when he stopped there.  "Involved?  You
mean when Sam Reese put a pistol against my forehead, and I took
it away from him, and pounded his face on the ground?  Yeah, I
did that.  He'd just shot Janey Sussman, the Captain of our
Cheerleading squad, I might add.  Killed both of his parents, a
few hours before."

	He ignored me.  "In short, Mr. Ferguson, you are an obvious
trouble maker.  This is a warning shot, putting you on notice
that such behavior is not and will not be tolerated in this
student body," he finished speaking, and I stood there for a
second, my mouth agape, wondering what planet he was from.

	"Funny thing about that.  I was told by the police department
detectives on the case, I'd been instrumental in saving a North
High student from being killed, after she'd been assaulted and
raped.  They were profuse in their praise.  I've not had much to
do with Roger Parker, but I understand he's out on bail, having
been charged with kidnap, rape, assault and conspiracy to commit
murder.  Keith Driscoll is still in jail, but hey, you know him a
lot better than I do, because he's been in trouble as far back as
I can remember."

	"Parker is here today.  One of the purposes of this meeting is
to make sure the two of you don't have an opportunity to get into
it again."

	My jaw hit the floor, I mean for a second all I could see was
red.  I'd had a little experience being angry, but never like
this.  Nothing like this.

	"I have never 'gotten into it' with Roger Parker.  Once, I asked
him to stop trying to feel up a girl at lunch, here at school. 
None of you were around.  He tried to hit me, but like everything
else he does, it wasn't very good.  There were attempted blows on
his part, but none of them landed.  This is the same Roger Parker
your football team did indeed take into the desert; not because
of anything I'd asked them to do, but because Parker was being
obnoxious to cheerleaders and some of their girlfriends.  And
now, you're telling me I'm being expelled, so the two of us don't
meet?  How about not letting him back, since he's an imminent
threat to any girl at school?"

	"See Mr. Jones for the paperwork, Mr. Ferguson.  Return to this
office next Monday morning, and if you've behaved, I'll consider
letting you back.  One option I have, is to extend the suspension
indefinitely; which is something I will do, if you don't show an
improvement in your attitude."

	"Brad," Eleanor spoke quietly.  The Vice Principal looked at
her, then looked away.

	"You know me, have known me since we were in first grade
together at St. Gregory's."

	"I know you, Eleanor."

	"I came here as Tom's friend, not wearing my official hat.  In
fact, I made a point of signing out when I left the office."

	"Eleanor..."

	Eleanor turned to Dr. Stone.  "Tom's said it all; you've just
ignored him.  I'm a CSD case worker, Doctor Stone.  I've been
involved with this whole sorry affair.  Sir, if you persist in
this, there is nothing at all I can do.  File a report, that's
about it."

	She turned to the Vice Principal.  "You've told me you like your
job."

	"I do.  I'm making a difference.  Not every day, in every way,
but I make a difference."

	"Expel Tom Ferguson, and a week from now, you will be suspended.
 A few weeks later, the union rep will tell you to quietly take
retirement or lose everything.  Is that what you want?"

	"Tom Ferguson is a trouble maker.  He's been the center of any
number of incidents."

	"Brad, when we were in third grade, the two of us raced to see
who could finish The Wizard of Oz first.  Do you remember that?"

	He nodded, and Eleanor went on.  "Dorothy was the center of a
Kansas cyclone, Brad.  It wasn't her fault.  Nor was it her fault
that when she landed, she turned the wicked witch into powder;
for all that Dorothy had been in the 'center' of things.  Nor was
it an entirely bad thing."

	"Eleanor, we have a responsibility to the district to deal with
troublemakers."

	"Then deal with them.  How many times has Tom Ferguson been in
this office?"

	"Never before.  But we both know that with high school students,
behavior can change overnight."

	I spoke up for the first time in a while.  "How much will you
take for the whole thing?  The school?  The buildings, grounds,
teachers, staff.  How much is it worth?"

	"Tom!" Eleanor barked at me, and I subsided.  It really had been
a dumb idea.

	"I think, Dr. Stone, you should take another look at this.  I
think you should do a little checking up on Tom Ferguson, and Tom
Ferguson's family.  I think you should talk to the police, to the
fire department.  I'm obviously, prejudiced, but it wouldn't hurt
for you to hear me out."

	The Vice Principal waved at the door.  "Why don't the two of you
go outside and let us talk this over?"

	We walked outside, into the waiting room of the school office. 
I was torn, there was no other way to say it.  Part of me was the
dutiful student, appalled that I'd done something that I could
get expelled for.  That was a real, real, small part of me.  The
rest of me was simply coldly furious about what morons they
were.

	Eleanor saw my black fury, and laughed.  "Chill, Tom."

	"They are stupid."

	"They are.  But you need to think, Tom.  Don Quixote tilted at
windmills.  You want to do a little better than that.  There's
nothing wrong with dreams and aspirations.  But you do yourself
and everyone else a disservice if you let the Lilliputians keep
you down."

	I nodded.  I contemplated everything, then picked my phone off
my belt, and dialed the lawyers.

	Bill Carstairs appeared to have returned from wherever it was
he'd been; he took my call.  "Mr. Carstairs, Tom Ferguson."

	"Hello Tom.  The secretary said you have a problem?"

	"My high school principal just had me into his office; they want
to expel me."

	"What for?" he asked.

	"Preventing rape and murder.  What I'd like you to do is get in
contact with Phoenix Union High School District and North High
and explain to them the facts of life.  Not the least of which is
that I've done good, not bad."

	"I'm on it.  I'll take care of it, I promise."

	Shortly, the Vice Principal came out, and told me that 'pending
appeal' I was free to continue to come to school.  I thanked
Eleanor, then I left, still seething.

	It was nearly lunch, and I went straight to the usual table and
sat down, even though I was the first; in and of itself a first.

	A while later, the usual gang was there, including Elizabeth
now, as well as Shannon.

	Tony showed up a little late, and promptly waved to me.  "Gotta
talk to you, Tom."

	I figured he'd heard about the BS at the school office, so I
went off a ways with him.

	"After school, the team wants to talk with you."

	"The team?  The football team?" I asked.

	"Yeah.  This is about Darryl.  And Gloria, but mainly about
Darryl."

	I couldn't help chuckling, and Tony looked at me, curious. 
"What's funny?"

	"Dr. Stone wanted to expel me a while ago.  Gloria, at least,
didn't make his list of my transgressions."  Gloria would have
been, I thought, really unhappy about it, too, if she had.

	Tony frowned.  "I don't think I understand."

	"I think the Gloria wants to put Darryl behind her, Tony."

	"Sue Ellen told me he tried to rape her.  He gave her a date
rape drug, got her drunk and tried to stick it to her!"  Tony was
outraged, I realized.

	"That's what he did," I agreed.  "But I think if you were to ask
Gloria, she'd tell you to let it go.  If it gets back to her
family, she's in big trouble.  Big trouble, Tony.  I met her
father Friday evening, remember?  The guy's a little whacko,
Tony."

	"Three o'clock, Tom.  The PE locker room."

	"Tony, then as a favor to me.  I just came from Dr. Stone's
office, Tony.  They were going to suspend me for the week."

	He stared at me in surprise.  "What for?"

	"Helping people.  Roger Parker is back today, he doesn't want us
'to get into it.'  His words, not mine."  I felt my anger
returning.  "It's crazy, it's stupid, but I do not need the boat
rocked right now, Tony.  Please, please.  If you guys do
something to Darryl, they'll dump on you guys.  Taking Roger out
to the desert was one of the things Stone blamed me for."

	"Blamed you for?"  Obviously, Tony was having a hard time with
it too.

	He looked away for a second, then shook his head.  "Three
o'clock, the PE locker room, Tom.  It won't be what you think."

	Tony and I were too good of friends to butt heads; he said it
wasn't what I thought, I'd accept that.  I hoped he wasn't trying
to snow me.

	"Just one last thing, Tony.  I'm the designated driver.  I have
to take Elizabeth and Shannon home, Jenny and probably Penny.  I
have to be downtown at four.  It can't take very long."

	"It won't."

	Lunch period finished, the rest of the day dragged by.  I
managed to get in touch with everyone I was supposed to pick up
to tell them I'd be a few minutes late, and to wait for me at the
van.  I handed Shannon the key after the last bell of the day,
then headed off to the locker room.

	It is always impressive to see so much flesh at once.  Not that
the football team was undressed, mind you.  In fact, they were
all duded up in their letter jackets.  But two dozen clean shaven
young men,  who's average weight was close to two hundred pounds
is a lot of flesh.

	Tony stepped out, pointing to Darryl.  "Darryl, you go stand
next to Tom."

	"What's this about?" Darryl was a little surly.

	"Just what you were told, a team meeting," Tony replied.

	"I thought you were off the team," Darryl sneered.

	"Don't go there Darryl," the guy I knew was the current team
captain said.  "Shut up and move."

	Darryl stood next to me, obviously curious.

	Tony turned to face the team.  "You all voted me Captain for
next year.  I told you then, and I'm telling you now, thanks.  I
can't think of anything that beats the honor.

	"Coach has always allowed the team to vote on varsity letters. 
I talked to him earlier this afternoon, and he said that as far
as he was concerned, that varsity letters were based on service
and team spirit.  You can't have one without the other.

	"I move we take back Darryl's letter.  All in favor, say Aye!"

	There was a loud chorus of "Ayes!"

	"Opposed?"  It was very quick.

	"What the hell is this," Darryl said, angry.

	"Anyone opposed?" Tony waited a second, but Darryl was still
sputtering.  "Ayes have it then.  Darryl, take off your jacket. 
If any of us see you wearing it again... you won't like it."

	Darryl stood there, facing down two dozen team mates.  He might
have been pond scum, but he certainly knew it.  "I was
transferring to Central next year anyway.  The coach there says I
have real promise.  I'll be a good fit for their running game."

	"Promises, promises!"  I didn't see which team member said it,
but there was a chorus of laughter.

	"That's all then, Darryl.  Thanks for your time," Tony told
him.

	Darryl took off his jacket, sneered and walked out of the room.

	"All in favor of asking Tom Ferguson to carry water next year?"

	Another chorus of ayes.   Tony smiled at me.

	Deadpan, I smiled back.  "I've been able to carry my water now,
since I was three and a half."

	There was laughter in the room; it was a stupid joke, but they
seemed to like it.

	"So, Tom.  Next year, you will show up at practices, just like a
regular team member.   Coach will tell you what to do, but
basically you're the refreshment manager.  Make sure there is
water, juice, Gatorade and the like at practices and the games. 
Lots and lots of ice."

	I shrugged, and Tony smiled even more.  "After the first game,
the team votes on varsity letters.  Typically, the water boy
doesn't get one.  However, some water boys are better than
others.  You too could have a jacket."

	I shook my head.  Tony was really weird, sometimes.

	I did my chauffeur duties, saying hello to Penny, after a long
week of absence.  She looked tan and fit, quite cheerful too.  I
dropped Elizabeth and Shannon at their house, Penny went home
with Jenny.  I told them I'd be back; we were supposed to be
going out to dinner again.  Uncle Craig and Aunt Shirley.  Kim
and Penny, the five of us.

	Not for the first time I realized that the van had been a nice
idea, but still wasn't sufficient for the family needs.  There
would be nine for dinner, still more than the van could hold.  I
contemplated what else I could have bought, but nothing came to
mind.  Maybe a school bus.  Ick!

	I managed to get to the bank just a little late, about five
minutes, which Miriam seemed to accept as the price of doing
business downtown.

	"I want to go over your portfolio with you," she told me.  "Your
uncle said you were thinking of some changes.  Charity, for
instance.  Single family homes."

	I nodded.  My Uncle hadn't been a total write-off after all. 
"First, Miriam, I don't want to get off on the wrong foot, I'd
like to think I can trust you."

	She looked at me without speaking, obviously waiting for me to
go ahead.  I was tolerably sure then that there might well be
trust issues.

	"Did my uncle give you or your boss private instructions about
what I'm allowed to do or not do?"

	"Yes," she said the word without explanation, so I went looking
for it.

	"Can you tell me what the rules are?"

	She nodded her head.  "I was told that my job was on the line if
I allowed you to do anything really stupid with the trust funds.
That comes under the heading of a pointless threat.  The bank
carries considerable insurance now on those of us in the
financial management office, to fend off investor lawsuits.   We
are here to offer advice,  but in your case, because of your age,
there other duties as well.

	"Those duties will, mostly, expire when your emancipation
becomes official.  If you were to tell me to buy a thousand
shares of a stock and I were to tell you the current street
recommendation was sell, that wouldn't be a problem.  I'd execute
the transaction.  Bet everything on a what the industry says is a
bad choice, I have a choice.  Tell you to find another manager,
or go along, knowing that if the investment goes bad, as likely
as not we'd be sued.  So, yes.  There are rules, and I will not
break them.  Some are your Uncle's, some are the laws of the
land, some are common sense."

	"I just ask that you tell me before you act against my wishes. 
I'm not going to shoot the messenger," I told her.

	"That said, I have a house I want to buy."

	"Your uncle explained the situation with that.  I don't have a
problem with that."

	"Did he tell you I decided to do everything at market price?"  I
asked, and she nodded in agreement.

	"Well, I'll give you the address.  The matter is urgent; her
husband stole every penny they had.  He was being hustled; the
woman he was running off with killed him and took the money.  The
police are involved, but they don't think there is likely to be
any recovery of what was taken.

	"The family has just a few dollars left.  They are going to need
bridge financing and all of that.  I have the name of the lawyer
she has talked to.  I think she has also talked to the mortgage
holder as well.  I want to make this as swift and as painless to
them as can be done.  She and her family have suffered enough."

	"No problem," Miriam said, looking at me.  "About the rest of
the portfolio..."

	"I looked at the papers the other day; I understand about one
and a half percent is in cash.  Use that.  Otherwise, leave
things alone."

	"And charity?"

	"I'm looking into it," I told her.  "How about t-shirts?"

	She smiled slightly.  "I met with Mr. Dugan earlier today.  He
found the wife of another fireman who does logo art for an ad
agency, she's coming up with something.  Probably should have
something by the end of the week."

	"Cool," I told her.  I sat contemplating things for a second,
then decided, why not?

	I slipped the phone number of the commercial real estate company
that had been on the side of the building I'd looked at
yesterday.

	"This is a commercial property at Third Avenue and McDowell. 
There is a sign on the building side saying that they've lost
their lease.  I'd like to find out more about it.  Could you
arrange for us to see it later this week?  Wednesday or
Thursday?"

	"A commercial property?"  I could see her brow furrow.

	"I understand it was once a Jewish temple."

	"Oh," her reply was very understated.  "I know which one you
mean.  My grandparents met there."

	She looked at me.  "Why are you interested in it?"

	I couldn't very well tell her it was a hunch.  "I was reading a
book the other day; I understand that in Europe it is quite
common to have a commercial property on the ground floor, then
apartments on the upper floors.  Is that sort of thing possible
here?  I can't remember seeing anything like that."

	She looked at me.  "That's an odd idea.  No, it's not commonly
done here.  I'm not even sure if there's a zoning code for it."

	Miriam saw my expression and laughed.  "Not to worry, anything
is possible, particularly if you don't mind paying a bit extra. 
After my grandfather died, my grandmother moved in with my
parents.  That didn't work out very well;  grandmother was
observant and my parents weren't.  At the very least, grandmother
wanted her own kitchen, so she could keep kosher.

	"It wasn't as simple thing to add a kitchen.  My parents had to
get a zoning variance, because the city code said that if a house
had two kitchens, it wasn't a single family residence any more. 
I remember my father saying that he overpaid on the donations to
the city council members, but he just donated a thousand dollars
to a two members.  That did the trick."

	I was uncomfortable with that, and she shook her head.  "You
could say it's corruption, and you'd probably not be far wrong. 
It was to their campaign funds, which have legal limits on how
the money can be used.  A fig-leaf, but it does make it legal.

	"It wasn't even a quid pro quo.  He donated the money, then
asked for the zoning variance.  A few weeks later they had the
zoning hearing, and he got it.  But the request is a little
unusual."

	"The city has talked about increasing density," I told her. 
"This might be an idea that would kill two birds with one stone.
Dual use and all of that.  There might be some money in
developing other properties in a similar way,"  I added the last
sentence as if it was an afterthought.

	"It's an idea," she agreed.  "It would take some research."

	"And you do research, do you not?" I asked, smiling.

	"I think I told you that I do a lot of it.  I have to admit,
this would be in an area I don't know much about."

	"Learning is good," I said with a straight face, and she
laughed.

	"There's that.  Anything else, Tom?"

	"I think that will do it for now."

	We shook hands, and I went back and got into the van.  I sat for
a few minutes contemplating life, liberty and the pursuit of
happiness.  I put the van into gear and drove home, unsure what
my parents were going to say when I told them about my day.  The
bad, the good and the proposal I wanted to make.

	It was actually worse than I imagined.

When I got home, everyone was there, and by everyone, I mean
everyone.  Mom had decided that Mary, Elizabeth and Shannon
should come along.  I knew Mary was profoundly unhappy about
people buying her and her daughter's dinner.  On the other hand,
it was a couple of days until she got more than the few hundred
dollars Dad had loaned her.  Not that she would be able to
afford, even then, to take a dozen people to dinner at a nice
restaurant.

	I'd spent time thinking about that, but I had no ideas.  Mary
was a proud woman, who wanted to make it on her own.  Her karma
was to have met a family where money wasn't an issue.

	But, before we went to dinner, another matter came up.

	Shannon had heard about my proposed expulsion, and told Mary,
who told Mom, who told Dad... should I go on?

	I suppose the Inquisition is worse; they use the rack and
pincers, after all.  They don't use hurt looks, angry looks and
tears.

	"Tell me about school today, Tom," Dad said as I came in.

	"Well, I'm up for water boy on the football team next year."  It
wasn't funny; it was obscure.  It was a perfect example of, 'you
had to have been there to understand.'

	"About your being kicked out of school."

	I contemplated how my dad would joke about it, then I smiled. 
"They've suspended my suspension."

	Mom laughed, Dad turned red, caught himself and clapped his hand
over his mouth.

I was stunned!  It had worked!  I'd made a joke and the bomb was
defused!  For the first time I realized that's what Dad was doing
all those times he made stupid jokes.  He would look at something
awful and try to joke about it.  Except, he didn't have very good
instincts.

	I tried to remember that I was my father's son.

	"I was called in, I asked Eleanor if she'd come along.  Turns
out she knows the Vice Principal."

I explained it all to them.  Mom started off concerned for me,
Dad started pissed at me.  Mom decided that I'd done okay, Dad
got pissed at the school.  Of course, Uncle Craig just sat there
and smirked; he didn't need to say a thing, knowing I was making
his case.

	"I'm hungry," I concluded.

	That served to get the dinner procession in motion; the
logistics and the fact you can't move that many people in one
vehicle unless you had a school bus, killed the conversation for
a while.

	We went to a Red Lobster; a little downscale from our usual
place, but they were having a lobster fest.  I'd never had
lobster and let Mom talk me into it.  It was pretty yummy, and an
evening of convivial company and conversation is pretty nice.

	We didn't get done until after nine; I'm not sure why having
more people makes everything take longer, but it does.

	I hugged and kissed Mary and Elizabeth, hugged Shannon.  I was
thinking we were headed for home and bed, when I found that
another family meeting had been called.

	There we were, like we'd been the day Jenny first came to us,
sitting in our dining room, with JR, Jenny and me on one side of
the table, Kim at one end.  Penny was standing behind her mom,
while Mom and Dad were joined this time by not only Craig, but
Aunt Shirley.

	It was Kim who spoke first.

	"I grew up clueless about just about everything.  The only thing
I did well, was study.  Then I went to college.  I'd never had
friends before, I'd never had sex before.  Imagine my surprise
when I found my first lover was a black woman.

	"I never regretted that, never even thought I should.  I didn't
regret finding my other roommates attractive lovers.  I love
Ellen and Shirley, as much as I love Keisha.  I came to love
Craig.  David.  Others.

	"Then I was a mom, and Penny was so beautiful!  I had such great
dreams for her!"  Kim smiled at her daughter, "She is a dream!"

	"Then I met Jennifer Reese."  She looked around the table.  "I
liked her.  I liked her in ways I didn't understand."

	I spoke up, something I realized almost at once, the adults
didn't want.  Tough.

	"Jenny is like that."

	I got a glare from Dad; Mom simply shook her head.  "Let Kim
talk, Tom."

	Kim went on.  "I never thought about it.  I liked her; she liked
me.  We clicked on all sorts of levels, not just sex, but that
too.

	"I found out since, what Jennifer's life has been like.  I don't
know what to say, except to apologize to you, Jennifer.  I was
wrong.  I should have asked more questions."

	Jenny shook her head.  "Please, don't do this."

	Kim started to say something, and right then, I realized
something.  Jenny had been desperate.  She'd said she'd been
thinking of running... or killing her brother.  I'd thought at
the time the reason she didn't look me in the eye when she spoke
was because she was ashamed.

	"Kim, stop," I said quickly, getting ahead of her.

	"Go any further in this direction and you're going to hurt
Jenny.  Please, Kim.  Don't."

	She stared at me, then at Jenny, who was looking down again.

	"Why would that be, Tom?" Shirley asked.

	She was tall, brown haired; like Mom and Kim, in pretty good
shape.

	"You all think I saved Jenny, right?"  I asked.  There were a
lot of nods on my side of the table.  The adults just looked at
us.

	"I 'saved' Jenny," I made air quotes around the verb, "because I
realized she had issues.  You didn't.  You know what issue I saw
she had?  She was scared and afraid.  I didn't know what I was
doing, but I knew what she felt.  So I was too happy to be a
macho guy; I'd protect her.  Piece of cake.  Hormones."

	I nodded to Jenny.  "In truth, I was getting off protecting her.
 I was her big brother.  Then I looked her in the eye... and then
I knew about her brother.  I didn't feel very good about it, but
I wasn't about to stop protecting her.

	"You, Kim, you're beating yourself up because you didn't notice.
 Kim, Jenny was using you.  She wanted to be safe; as an adult
she was sure that you could stop her brother.  In fact, you did,
even if you didn't know about it.  Sam was wary of adults; he
left his sister alone for the first time in her life."

	"I have a responsibility," Kim said.  "To myself, my lovers and
my daughter.  I had no right not to look deeper."

	"You trusted Jenny, Kim.  It would have hurt you to find out
Jenny was using you."

	Kim stared at Jenny, who met her eyes.  Jenny bobbed her head
the least bit.

	Kim paled.

	"Mom too.  She was here, Jenny and she went off together. 
Later, Mom was upset when she learned about Jenny.  Yet she never
connected the dots.  And was upset, just like Kim, when she
learned the truth.  Jenny was looking for someone to protect her,
and wasn't much concerned about what she had to do to get the
protection.

	"I have no idea what JR said to Jenny to get her to come to my
bed.  But you all need to think long and hard, longer and harder
than you've done until now, about what you are doing.  JR knew
something, I'm sure.  I don't know about Penny; I have a little
trouble imagining Penny and JR not sharing everything, so I think
she knew too.

	"The other day, you were going off to have a meeting about
'intra-generational relationships.'"  I sniffed.  "We weren't
invited.

"Dad, Craig... did Mom tell you why JR stayed home today?"

	Dad said no, Craig shook his head.

	"Well, that's because she has her period."

	Dad turned pale as a sheet; Craig looked down at his hands, then
back at JR.  I told myself if he blamed JR, I was going to punch
him in the nose.

	"Sorry, Joanna," Craig said softly, his voice muted.  "Once, I
pulped the bastard's face who got your mom pregnant.  I..."  He
stopped talking, then said softly, "I should have been more
careful."

	"I knew better," JR told him, then she looked at Dad.  "Stop
this, all of  you.  We are people.  We make choices.  Some good,
some bad.  It was a mistake to be so careless, and the lesson has
been learned, believe me!"

	Kim spoke up again.  "I don't need anyone's help.  I'm sorry,
Jennifer.  I didn't know about your brother.  I wish I had,
because I'd have been as willing to help with your brother as
anything else.  Actually, more willing."

	"Ditto," Mom said.

	"Now I'm going to say, 'stop this,'" I told them.  "You are
ignoring us.  Face it, my friends.  You all are friends and more.
 We're family, but you are reluctant to look at what's happened
and face the facts.  It happened.  To Jenny, to JR.  In my own
way, to me.

	"Uncle Craig has said I'm supposed to take over handling my
trust funds.  Okay, fine.  Tell me, Craig, what possible reason
could you give me that I should take responsibility for that
money, yet cut me out of a say in my sex life?

	"You left the bank instructions on how to deal with demands I
make of them, at least right now.  Craig, training wheels are
training wheels.  Don't mistake that for freedom of the road; I
surely won't.

	"So," I concluded, "here we are.  Jenny had an agenda when she
came to us.  It wasn't to hurt any of us, it was to protect
herself from a monster."

	I slapped my hand down on the table, making a loud Crack!
sound.

	"This is now.  What are we talking about?"

	"Adopting Jenny," Mom said, confirming what I'd thought  in the
beginning.  Mom looked at Jenny and smiled.

	"I vote aye," I told her.  "Any objections?"

	I think Mom was the only one who realized what I was doing. 
Thank you again, Tony!

	"No objection, the ayes have it," I told them.

	"Now, I'm for bed."  I started to get up, then sat back down.

	"Excuse, I forgot a few things."  Everyone looked at me,
confused.

	"I should have told you about school," I spoke to Mom, but
included Dad, sitting next to her, "I should have called this
morning.  But there was always something to do.  I'm sorry, and
it won't happen again."

	"I hope you noticed," Dad said, his eyes flashing anger, "that I
did not make a wisecrack this time."

	"I know, and I am sorry.  Eleanor convinced them to give the
matter more thought.   As near as I can tell, they were blaming
me for everything that's happened, because they can't afford to
punish Roger or Keith any more."

	Craig nodded.  "I suspect Arizona's got the same sort of rules
California does.  If you suspend a student for enough days, you
have to provide a tutor.  Quite frequently, that's a one tutor,
one student situation.  Very expensive."

	"So, tomorrow I'll find out."

	"Carstairs will be there," Dad said darkly, obviously upset. 
"Me too."

	"I didn't want anyone to miss any more time at work," I tried to
explain.

Dad just waved his hand.  "I have almost six months of vacation
saved up, I'm maxed out on sick leave days too.  A few days or
weeks don't matter.  Not to worry, Tom."

"I need to be at the bank," Mom told us.  "I have a proposal I'm
working on, I'm supposed to present it Friday.  I'd like to make
sure my ducks are in a row."

Dad nodded.  "Anything else?" he asked me.

I smiled.  "I talked to my account executive about getting a
start on buying Mary's house.  I was thinking, we are just about
to exceed this house's ability to hold us.  I was looking at a
place that might work out better.  Much better."

I met Craig's eye.  "It's a little pricey, I expect, but on the
other hand, there would be enough room for everyone.  And I mean
everyone, including the LA contingent of the family, Mary,
Elizabeth and Shannon.  Kim and Penny.  Everyone."

"You found a house big enough for that many people?"  Kim asked,
obviously curious.  "Where?  We live where we do so my commute
isn't a killer."

"Third Avenue and McDowell.  The old temple.  The lease has
expired, and it's available.  I was thinking we could make the
ground floor commercial space, and have living quarters upstairs.
 Miriam seems to think that if campaign contributions were made
to the right people, zoning problems could be resolved.

"I asked her to set something up Wednesday or Thursday after
school.  I don't think we should all go this time, but I promise
that I will not do anything without the advice and consent of
everyone."

"Pretty ambitious," Aunt Shirley said.  "Craig has mentioned
maybe a million times that running back and forth between houses
at all hours has not been good.  If nothing else, Tom has a good
idea that needs to be looked at, and considered."

She smiled at me, and I smiled slightly back. What had I been
told?  Aunt Shirley was inordinately fond of people my age?  That
was fine, she was like the rest of us, she kept herself in shape,
and in fact, her figure was better than Mom or Kim's, which I
suspected came from the lack of kids.

"I think you should check out the place yourself, Tom," Uncle
Craig told me, "then write the family a proper memo about the
idea, the site, the options you think are possible.  David, Ellen
or myself could help with that, if you aren't sure what you
need."

"No problem," I told him.  It wasn't either.

"Now, I am ready for bed!" I told them.

We broke up, Kim, Penny, Craig and Shirley going to Kim's, the
rest of us did our goodnight kiss.   For a change, JR and Jenny
wanted to sleep by themselves, for that matter, so did I.

I spent a while at my desk, catching up, doing the little
homework I'd been assigned.  I didn't finish; I fell asleep at my
desk.

<1st attachment end>


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