THREE FOURTEEN
by SANDEFUR
1-12-06/Thursday evening.
An exhausted John Hunter naps in his living room recliner, but it is not a restful sleep. John is dreaming…
In his dream, John is standing next to a path that leads to the edge of a steep cliff. Looking around, he spots Dog-Walker God, whom he knows as 'Lord'. Lord is dressed in biblical style robes, and is seated on a boulder.
John asks, "Why am I hear, Lord?"
"Watch and see."
Along the path comes Ryan Hunter. He is blind (wearing dark glasses) and he is being led by a seeing eye dog. The dog is leading Ryan towards the cliff.
"Why can't he see?"
"There are none so blind as those who will not see."
"He's headed for the cliff."
"Ryan has been headed for a great fall for a long time. It is inevitable when the blind lead the blind."
As Ryan passes by, John notices the guide dog is also wearing dark glasses.
John calls out, "Ryan, stop! You're in danger."
"No I'm not."
"You're headed for the edge of a cliff."
"Nonsense. Vera is an excellent guide dog."
"Your dog is as blind as you are."
"John, you say the silliest things."
Ryan continues towards the edge. Dr. Hunter raises his hands in appeal.
"Lord, can't you stop this?"
"Ryan's path has been created by his choices. Only he can choose to alter his steps. You should be more concerned with those in his way."
John turns and sees his son Dylan standing at the very edge of the cliff. Dylan is directly in Ryan's path, and a collision is about to occur.
John shouts, "Dylan! Dylan, step aside!"
Dylan doesn't respond, and seems unaware that his feet are so close to the edge that dirt and pebbles are crumbling behind him…
"Lord, save my son!"
Suddenly Joan appears next to Dylan and tugs on his arm. Ryan and the dog collide with them. The dog goes over the edge, howling with fear. The cliff edge crumbles, and all three people fall, but each one manages to grab hold of the cliff's edge. Dr. Hunter watches as three sets of hands begin losing their grip and start sliding towards oblivion…
Dr. Hunter thrashes awake while still shouting, "NO…!"
John gasps, relieved to be out of such a horrible dream. It wasn't the first such warning he has received of late. (The dog Vera was new.) Something awakened him—a car door? John goes to the front window and looks out.
Helen Girardi is walking from the curb to her front door. What a wonderful and lovely lady she is… No. He must not let himself think along those lines. Besides, it is Dylan he is waiting for and that wait would be a long one.
In less than a month, John has seen his wonderful son transform into a stranger he doesn't know or like. They were arguing all the time now. Dylan was staying out later every night, refusing to account for himself, refusing to obey his father and refusing to go to church. Whereas before, 'sir' was a regular part of Dylan's vocabulary, now John was hearing muttered phrases like 'jackass' and 'stupid old man.'
John, like all the Hunter men, has a lifelong obsession with physical fitness. Proper diet, regular exercise and a demanding weight training schedule has given him immense strength for a man of 42. But then, Dylan was the same way, and he was entering the prime of his life. For the first time, John wonders if their arguments descended into blows, could he win?
This was his fault. Oh, it would be easy to blame all of this on Ryan, who was following his own dark nature, and was doing his best to pass that on to Dylan. But it was he who disobeyed God when he brought Dylan to Arcadia. His intentions were good, but did he think God's weren't? John curses himself for a fool who is reaping what he has sewn. Not for the first time, John whispers…
"God forgive me."
X X X X X
Meanwhile, in Dillion Samuels' bedroom...
"Dylan please, not so rough."
Whiny little skank. Reluctantly, Dylan reduces the vigor of his love-making. He almost snickers at the thought of calling their rough, raw sex 'love-making'. It was almost as funny as when he has to introduce Tiny Blonde Girl as his girlfriend. Twelve days into this so-called relationship, he was already so bored with her.
Of course he didn't pick Dillon samuels because of any special attraction. He calculated she would be very easy to seduce, and since Joan once saved her life, her choice as his 'girlfriend' would be extra painful to his ex. The look on Joan's face when he kissed Tiny Blonde Girl in front of her was almost worth all of T.B.G.'s annoying ways.
The seduction itself was ridiculously easy. On the morning of the first, he traveled by cross country skis to check on her safety after the blizzard--the romantic gesture recommended by his uncle. (Fortunately, Dillon's mother was snowbound at the restaurant where she worked as a waitress.) Step two was the sweet gesture, and since under the circumstances he didn't have the time to arrange flowers, or a puppy or crap like that, he went literal with a dozen home-made chocolate doughnuts. (By coincidence, they turned out to be her favorites.) Step three was flattery. "Don't be afraid to lay it on thick, my boy. You'll be amazed at how much the gullible little darlings will soak up." How right his uncle was. No matter how outrageously he rhapsodized about the wonderfulness of Dillon Samuels, the tiny blonde eagerly sought more.
The final step after the initial physical contact was a blunt statement of your desires. Uncle Ryan assured him that if any attraction existed, this would work 90 percent of the time. However, Dillon was nervous and hesitant. Then Dylan remembered Joan's advice on Manly Persuasion. He got rather cave-mannish with Tiny Blonde Girl, and sure enough, she gave up what he wanted.
To his surprise, she was a virgin. Why had the other guys at school passed on this golden opportunity? He soon found out why. T.B.G. was messed up. Clingy, whiny and creepily desperate for any form of love and acceptance--Dillon was a mistake. Even worse, this relationship wasn't accomplishing its' goal--to purge Joan from his system.
On the contrary, he thought of Joan more than ever. Dillon was attractive, but she just didn't excite him. To become aroused, he thought of Joan, especially of that night in the back of the minivan. Yeah, that memory always did the trick. But the longer he thought of Joan, the more he was reminded of his pain. He quickly deveolped the habit of taking out that pain on Tiny Blonde Girl.
("You're a monster.") It wasn't an audible voice, but Dylan heard it clearly. That last surviving kernel of the true Dylan Hunter struggled to be heard. No, he wouldn't listen. What had that obey-the-rules, goody two shoes version of Dylan ever got for his reward? An insane obsession with an insane girl. Angrily, he suppressed that good Dylan, and his muscular body automatically transferred his anger to the tiny blonde beneath him.
Dillon began to cry out in discomfort.
"Oh shut up and just take it!"
Compliant by nature, Dillon did her best to comply. Her cries reduced to the level of soft whimpers.
Damn. He would pay for that comment. When they were done, she would cry and pout. No one could pout like Tiny Blonde Girl when she was trying to make him feel guilty. He never did, but he did know he would want to use her at least a couple of more times before her overly-flirtatous mother returned from her shift at the steakhouse. (Of course then he would have to go home to face another boring sermon from that old fool...)
Anyway, he would have to make amends. After Dillon's histrionics calmed a bit, he would offer an apology so insincere, a four year old wouldn't be fooled. He would also promise a present (mall gift cards seemed to work well). Dillon would gratefully accept both, and eagerly come back to him for more. Well, why not? After all, she was the needy one in this relationship.
Even so, he knew he would be trading her in for a better model soon. Maybe one of the sub-defectives. Seducing one of them would certainly sting Joan. Glynis? He liked that she was tall, but no. The way she openly worshipped Adam, you would think the sun rose out of the guy's penis. Maybe Grace. She was kind of plain, but he had noticed a growing strain between her and Luke. Plus, she looked like the kind of girl who could take a hard ride without complaint. Besides, she was Joan's best friend. That level of betrayal would just about kill his ex.
Dylan smiles.
X X X X X
Much later that night, Helen is also experiencing a disturbing dream. Transition into her dream...
On a city street, Will Girardi and two uniformed cops have taken shelter behind a couple of police cars. An unseen gunman shoots at them from a nearby building. Helen and Cute Boy God stroll down the street towards the scene.
"Shall we stop and say hello to Will?" Cute Boy God asks.
"I don't know, he doesn't like it when I disturb him at work."
"Let's risk it."
They continue on until they come to a stop behind Will.
Helen says, "Excuse me, Will."
"Helen? What are you doing here?"
"Can you spare a moment?"
A bullet richocets off the police car. Will fires back.
"I'm a little busy."
"I just wanted to introduce God."
A bullet shatters one of the police car's windows.
"Some other time!"
Will fires again and again at the unseen gunman. Cute Boy God shrugs and walks away. He goes only a short distance before passing Joan. They exchange high-fives. Walking next to Joan is Sgt. Carlisle, who is carrying a box of doughnuts.
Joan says, "Hi. Mom."
"Joan, what are you doing here?"
"I go where I'm sent."
Carlisle removes a doughnut from the box and begins eating it. He holds out the box to Will.
"Doughnut, Will?"
"Take cover, Sergeant."
"They're chocolate."
"Carlisle, get down!"
Joan says, "I think that's my cue."
Joan runs forward, jumps on Carlisle's shoulders, and knocks him to the ground. As they fall, three quick shots ring out. Carlisle and Joan hit the ground and remain motionless. A pool of blood spreads out near their heads...
Helen calls, "Joan...?"
Joan opens her eyes and looks over at the lifeless Carlisle. She sighs heavily, and allows Helen to help her to her feet.
"Sorry Mom, you can't save them all."
Joan starts to walk away.
"But what about Carlisle?"
"This was a day when he should have stayed home."
The dream fades...
X X X X X
1-13-06/Friday morning.
In the Girardi kitchen, Will is busy loading the dishwasher. Helen hastily enters from the backstairs.
"Good morning, sleep-head." Will jokes.
"I know, I'm so late. Are the kids gone?"
"They just left for school. Luke drove and Joan took the bus. Apparently Luke is mad at her because Joan got the other kids in their group to give him the cold shoulder."
"Well, he did kind of betray her confidence."
"Only with the best of intentions."
"Still, it's a life lesson for Luke. If you're going to be part of a clique, you can't go against the leader."
"Joan is a leader?"
"Well, sure. Will, haven't you noticed how all sorts of people seem to turn to Joan for guidance and help? I've seen how the sub-defectives all turn to Joan in the face of any challenge."
Helen removes the box of pop-tarts from the cabinet and opens one.
"Sub-defectives. I've always hated that name. Helen...pop-tarts for breakfast?"
"I'm short on time. Besides, Joan seems to thrive on these things."
Will smiles and gives Helen a kiss on the cheek while she munches on the pop-tart.
"I have to get to the station. Have a good day."
"Uh Will, before you leave, I have a huge favor to ask."
"Uh-oh, this sounds expensive."
"Nothing like that. Could you please keep Sgt. Carlisle in the office today?"
Will gives Helen a quizzical look. "Why?"
"I...I had a dream about him last night."
"Should I be jealous?"
"If only it had been something erotic. I dreamed he was killed on duty. Shot in the head."
"That must have been horrible, but Helen, we can't let our lives be ruled by dreams or premonitions."
"I know, and normally I would have just dismissed it, but I can't. It was too real. Please Will, just for today? Don't let him out on the streets as a favor to me."
"It means that much to you?"
"It does. I won't have a moment's peace today if you don't promise."
Will sighs. "I feel foolish, but if it will reassure you, I'll see what I can do."
Helen gives Will a long kiss. "Thank you honey. You have no idea how much that relieves my mind."
They kiss again.
X X X X X
Later that morning in a school hallway, Joan is alone at her locker when she is tapped on the shoulder. She turns to see a short, attractive blonde Junior. It is Dillon Samuels.
"Joan, can we talk?"
"What's on your mind?"
"I couldn't help noticing you giving me the evil-eye all this week. Have I done something to offend you?"
"We haven't spoken in weeks. How could you have offended me?"
"Is it because of Dylan? Because we are...dating?"
"What you and young Mr. Hunter do together is no concern of mine."
"That's a relief. I know the two of you broke up back around Thanksgiving, and I didn't want you to think I was poised, ready to swoop in."
"Of course not. Out of curiosity, when did the two of you first connect?"
"Well, we got to know each other during your campaign for student council president. We always joked about how our names were almost the same. Of course nothing happened back then. I knew he was your boyfriend, and he was totally about you. But then on New Year's day, he came to my apartment on cross country skis to check on me."
"How romantic. You must have fallen for him on the spot."
"I did. We've been together every day since then."
"That's nice, although not too flattering to me. He leaves my bedroom on New Year's Eve, and all of twelve hours later, he's sniffing around you."
"He...he was in your bedroom on the thirty-first?"
"Yeah, after our original break up, we had a couple of tries at reconciliation, but it's definitely over now. It looks like Dylan finally took his uncle's advice."
"Advice?"
"His uncle Ryan, interesting guy--you'd like him, he told Dylan the only way to get over me was to start banging some other girl. Consider this a heads-up before it's too late."
Dillon's lip begins to tremble, and then she starts to gently cry.
"It isn't too late...right?
Dillon leans her head against a locker and begins sobbing.
"Oh hey, don't listen to me. I was just blowing off some steam. Dylan is basically a good guy."
"No, he's not. He' a louse, and I got what I deserved... Oh God, the things I let him do to me! And after you saved my life. So I express my gratitude by hooking up with your ex the split-second he's available? I'm a louse too."
Dillon hurries away, boo-hooing as she goes...
"Dillon, I'm sorry!"
Dillon rounds the corner and nearly collides with Custodian God. Looking displeased, she advances on Joan.
"Vengeance, Joan?"
"Justice. Or at least that's how I meant it. I only wanted to stir just a little trouble for my ex. I never meant to hurt Dillon that way."
"Even little actions can have a host of large consequences. You should know that by now, Joan."
"It's just that I never expected they would... At least not this soon! I mean, what happened to Dylan's attitude towards casual sex?"
"Ryan's influence is growing on the boy, causing him to reconsider most of his core beliefs."
"This is part of that dark path you told me about. Should I be worried about him?"
"Normally I would say no. Every person must deal with temptation, and the occasional crisis of faith, but Ryan's influence tips the scales unfairly."
"What should I do?"
"From now on, leave vengeance and justice in my hands."
Custodian God begins walking away.
"I was thinking of something a little more pro-active!"
"Love, Joan. It covers a multitude of sins."
Custodian God keeps walking, giving the God-wave as she goes.
X X X X X
Meanwhile at a downtown medical center, Kevin waits nervously on an examination table. Dr. Hughes and a nurse enter. Kevin modestly tugs down the hospital gown he is wearing.
"Kevin, it's two months until your next physical. What brings you in today?"
"I believe I'm experiencing an increrase in sensation below my injury spot."
"And what prompted this belief?"
"Uh, I recently had sex, and for the first time since the accident, I faintly felt my orgasm occur."
"How recent was this?"
"During the blizzard. My ladyfriend and I were snowbound for three days."
"But I thought your fiancee was in New York?"
"She is."
"Oh, I see."
"Dr. Hughes..."
"Say no more, Kevin. We are medical professionals here to treat your body, not judge your morals. Now, let's test this increased sensation level."
Dr. Hughes lifts Kevin's right foot while the nurse hands him a flexible piece of plastic with markings on it.
"Remember this item?"
"Sure. It's a gauge that was originally developed to measure the loss of sensation in the feet of diabetics. The first time you used it on me, you said I had a five percent level of feeling."
"Right. Now close your eyes, and as I apply pressure, tell me the first moment you feel it."
(After a brief pause...) "There."
"Interesting. You've definitely had an increrase in sensation levels. You're at fifteen percent."
"Really? Dr. Hughes, I know you've always said not to get my hopes up..."
"And I would still say the same thing, despite this level of improvement."
"But the increase in feeling?"
"Is still unrelated to a return of motor skills. You're still keeping up with your physical therapy?"
"Of course. Also the electrical stim treatments."
"Good. I want you to add something to your routine. Every night, for at least an hour, I want you to focus on trying to move your toes. Keep at that until your next scheduled appointment."
"Okay, and if I manage to move my toes?"
"Then it's a whole new ballgame. Good luck, Kevin. Nurse, help the patient get dressed."
Dr. Hughes exits, and the nurse begins helping Kevin with his clothes.
"So stud, you're getting some on the side?"
"It's not like that. It was a one time thing when circumstances kind of got out of hand."
"You don't remember me, do you?"
"Uh, no."
"I volunteer at the Oak Street Community Center. Lily Waters is a friend of mine. She's out of town less than a month, and you're already cheating on her?"
"No. I mean yes, but I never meant for it to happen. I love Lily, and I swear this will never repeat itself. Please, you won't tell her, will you?"
"Ethically, I can't say anything, but I want you to know, I think you're scum."
"I agree. I hate myself for what I did, and I'll regret it until the day I die. But Lily and I still have a chance at happiness. You wouldn't want to ruin that, would you?"
The nurse sighs. "No, and I'd never want to hurt Lily. I guess every guy eventually makes one dumb-ass mistake, but if I ever hear of you doing this again..."
"Never again, I swear it. I love Lily, and I want to spend the rest of my life with her. Okay...?"
Reluctantly, the nurse nods her agreement.
X X X X X
Not far away at police headquarters, Will is at his desk working on a mountain of paperwork. After a brief knock, Carlisle enters.
"Boss, you got a minute?"
"Just the man I wanted to see. Come in."
Carlisle enters and places a folder on Will's desk.
"I finished the review of the Marston vandalism case. As usual, Ryan Hunter had an alibi. The senior management of the Herald gave him a welcome aboard dinner at the Hotel Wentworth after he gained controlling interest of the newspaper."
"Yet another coincidence?"
"Who knows? The guy does have an amazingly busy schedule. Anyway, the Marston cops did a pretty thorough job on the vandalism, which matched the pattern of the St. Mary's case. Hammers and crowbars were used to smash stuff, paint-filled balloons were thrown everwhere, and a dozen cans of red spray paint were used to leave obscene graffiti and satanic symbols."
"Is there anything helpful?"
"Just this. The perps left behind the empty spray cans, and they were an uncommon brand that's sold at only one hardware store in Marston. M.P.D. checked, and the owner remembers a young, African-American woman buying a whole case of red spray paint the day of the vandalism."
"Any security footage?"
"Yes, but the woman kept her back to the camera until the last moment when she turned to leave. That blurry photo in the file was the best image the Marston cops could get."
Will removes the photo from the file. The nearly unrecognizable image is of Marla Bennett.
"She's wearing dark glasses and a scarf."
"Yeah, the Marston cops thought it was pretty useless and didn't bother to circulate it."
"Add it to our terrorism file. What about your other assignment?"
"I did a phone interview with Marla Bennett, and she backed up Ryan Hunter's statements on their relationship, and of the cash he regularly gave her. She suddenly left town after Vera Lewis gave Ryan a her-or-me ultimatum in September. Apparently Ryan got her a reporter's job at a radio station in Denver. Miss Bennett also faxed me copies of her financial records and tax returns. Everything adds up."
"What about Miss Lewis?"
"Her formal statement matches everyone else's. She's still gathering her financial records, and promised to bring them by in the morning."
"Looks like another end. What are your plans for the rest of the day?"
"I was going to take the Marston photo around to local hardware and paint stores to see if anyone recognized the woman."
"Then nothing that can't go on the back burner."
"You have another assignment?"
"It occured to me that Lt. Williams will be returning from her honeymoon on Monday."
"Chadwick. That's Toni's new last name."
"Right, I'll have to get use to that. I thought it would be nice for her first day back, if someone had handled her accumulated paperwork."
"Meaning me?"
"Consider it training for a lieutenant's position."
Will holds out a very thick folder of paperwork.
"This will take all day."
"I'd consider it a personal favor."
Carlisle sighs and accepts the folder. "You got it, Will."
X X X X X
Later that day in John Hunter's office, he is behind his desk taking an occasional note as Grace sits in a chair opposite him.
"Now, what about the group therapy sessions?"
"I attended my third meeting last night. I can see the value in having a forum where you can vent your feelings amongst fellow victims. I'm just not sure it's for me."
"Why not?"
"Most of the people in that group have gone through hell during their childhoods. Rape, sodomy, torture and things too horrible to mention, except they are mentioned in great detail. Then it comes to me and my problems, and I feel guilty wasting everyone's time. So some guy fondled me, so what? At the time I knew it was something weird, but I didn't realize how wrong it was until I was older. It's not like he...hurt me."
"Except for the psychological damage that led to sexual confusion, uncontrolled rage and an inability to trust anyone."
"Okay, I'm not saying I don't have problems. I'm just trying to keep things in perspective."
"Perspective is fine, but not if it leads to you dismissing your problems as unimportant. That can cause you to end therapy too soon, leaving a lot of unresolved issues. Even if you're feeling better now, these problems will keep occuring until you deal with them."
"Yeah, I get that. I just think I'd do better in private counseling. The group therapy thing made me realize how much worse things could have been for me. At least with me, the cliche, time-heals-all-wounds, applies."
"I know the cliche, but it isn't always true. It's been twelve years since the molestation ended. Did time heal your wounds?"
"No, but that was before I started facing up to the problem. Now that I have, I think I'm strong enough to beat these issues in short order."
"I'm glad to see you getting your confidence back, but I sense you're heading for an early bail-out on therapy."
"Not bailing out, just putting it into perspective."
"There's that word again. Is this someone else's influence?"
"It's just some advice Miss Lewis gave me. If you give a problem enough time to gain perspective on the situation, the more easily you can deal with that problem."
"As a general rule of thumb, that's not bad advice, but generalities don't always fit specific issues. Who is this Miss Lewis?"
"The new science teacher. I'm taking her Biology 2 class."
"And you confided the nature of your problem?"
"Well, no. She just saw that I was really upset one day, and offered me a shoulder to cry on. Also her advice on time and perspective. It made me realize that what I needed wasn't a ton of therapy. I need the support of a few close friends, and maybe a little therapy."
"Grace, it's a blessing to have empathetic friends to turn to, but most are ill-equipped to handle something as serious as molestation."
"Maybe, but I think that sometimes a close friend, a teacher or a clergyman is often as good as any therapist. My Dad counsels people all the time, and Joan is begining counseling today with her family's priest."
"Joan Girardi?"
"Yeah, and I know she use to see you professionally, so don't get jealous. Joan and her family were having...issues, and to keep peace in the family, Joan agreed to get help. The point is, she didn't have to park herself on some shrink's couch."
"Many clergymen, especially Catholic priests, are well trained in counseling techniques. All reputable clergy, when faced with someone who has deep emotional problems, will recommend professional help. Grace, why are you suddenly resisting therapy?"
"Why? Because I don't want to be one of those whiny, cry-babies who spends her entire life bitching to her shrink about how unfair life has been."
"Because that would make you feel, how?"
"Weak."
"And you have to be strong because life is hard."
"Exactly."
"Strong enough to deal with those who would exploit you. So strong, you never have to rely on anyone else?"
"I...oh crap, we're right back at the trust issue again."
"I doesn't magically go away, Grace. It takes time, courage and strength to face your problems head-on and deal with them."
Grace sighs. "Yeah, I know. I guess I was just trying to latch on to any quick fix I could find. Imagine, I was turning to your brother's girlfriend for an easy out."
"Ryan's girlfriend?"
"Yeah, Vera Lewis. Get in the loop, Doc. It's all over the school."
"Her name is Vera? Interesting..."
"You okay, Doc? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"I'm fine. So, shall we schedule more sessions?"
"Yeah, I guess so."
X X X X X
A short time later in Ryan Hunter's luxurious office on the top floor of the Herald building, he is busy dictating to his secretary, Mrs. Burke...
"In response to your letter of the eleventh..."
The phone rings and Mrs Burke answers. "Ryan Hunter's office. Oh, hello Dr. Hunter."
Ryan makes a sound of exasperation.
"One moment, I'll see if I can reach him." Mrs. Burke says as she pushes mute.
"The man just won't take a hint."
"He did say it was important."
"My view, and my brother's view of important vary widely. Still, I suppose I should listen, just in case."
Mrs. Burke hands him the phone.
"John, I'm busy. Make it quick. A dream? Oh, one of those dreams. Uh-huh, blind... Vera a dog and also blind... A cliff and a collison with Dylan. Is that all? John, you've always been a lousy liar. Oh, Joan was there too? John, you shouldn't let the old guy rattle you so easily. And for the record, telling me my girlfriend is a bitch who is leading me down the wrong path does not constitute an important call."
Ryan slams down the phone and drums his fingers on the desk. He wished he could just dismiss his brother's call, but Vera was too erratic to rely on. She loved role-playing, and since she had become his offical 'girlfriend', she had taken to teasing him sexually. He wondered if she were about to become a switch-hitter. Vera wouldn't be the first player from the other team to fall for his charms...
"Shall we continue, sir?"
Ryan sighs. "No, get Vera on the line. I need to find out what that crazy bitch is up to now."
Mrs Burke stifles a snicker. "Yes sir."
X X X X X
Meanwhile in Father Ken's office, he and Joan are sitting at a table, enjoying cups of tea...
"Why do you think you're here, Joan?"
"To get some peace at home. The family is convinced I need counseling, so I picked you."
"Why does your family want you in counseling?"
"Because they think I'm crazy. Remember when I had Lyme disease?"
"And subsequently spent time at Gentle Acres. Yes, your mother confided all of this to me."
"Since then, the family has had this mindset that I am, and always will be, a little bit crazy. The permanent eccentric in the family."
"Is that a fair assessment?"
"Yes and no. I readily admit I sometimes say and do odd things. Who doesn't? In others you call it a personality quirk or an eccentricity, but once you wear that crazy label, people never give you the benefit of the doubt."
"What eccentricity has your family so worried?"
"Remember a conversation we had about the way evil will disguise itself as good in order to decieve people?"
"Yes, the bible warns of that. Evil isn't stupid. It doesn't introduce itself as evil with a fair warning that it seeks to destroy you. Evil lures you in and then springs its' trap."
"I know a man who is evil. There is virtually no light in his soul, and yet people are drawn to him like a moth to a flame. He has wealth, charm and good looks, and every member of my family thinks he is a great guy. Our disagreement about this man has led them to decide I'm nuts."
"Who is this man?"
"Ryan Hunter."
"Community leader, newpaper publisher, avid supporter of dozens of charities--that Ryan Hunter?"
"See how his resume just springs to your mind? Who would ever suspect such a man is evil? I'll even add to his resume. He believes in God."
"As do I, and I assume, as do you?"
"I know God is real, and that he loves us and wants only what is best for us. Ryan Hunter believes God is an incompetent old fool."
"He...he said that?"
"Oh he phrased it in smoother, more philosophical terms, but yes, he did say it. He even confirmed it to my mother. Ryan convinced my parents that my enmity towards him is just some dispute over religion that's gotten out of hand. A teenager's over reaction to her belief's being challenged."
"Isn't that possible? I know I'd be quick to dispute Mr. Hunter's beliefs, but wrong-thinking doesn't constitute evil."
"Would you consider it evil to attack churches, a synagogue and members of the clergy?"
"The anti-religion terrorism that occured last year? But the police know who did that."
"No, they have two corpses and no explanation as to who plotted and financed the terrorism campaign. It was Ryan Hunter. I can't prove it, but I know it. Call it a hunch, intuition or even revalation, but I can't be shaken from my belief."
"So this belief is why you are at odds with your family?"
"Oh, there's more. I'm also acting on my belief. Since my Dad won't believe me, I'm investigating Ryan on my own. I'm also doing everything I can to impede his plans."
"Would that include the scandal over the attempted sale of Arcadia High? I remember you were named as the information source by every local news outlet except the Herald. Mr. Hunter looked foolish because of it."
"I know. I'm particularly proud of that, even though it put me on the outs with Kevin."
"Don't you care that you hurt your brother?"
"Of course I do, but I'm in the middle of a war, and no matter how much I regret it, there are going to be casualties. For instance, I recently lost a boyfriend over all of this."
"This is quite a militant attitude. Have you never asked yourself, what if I'm wrong? After all, your family thinks you're mistaken, and apparently so did your ex-boyfriend."
"Yeah, well that was Dylan Hunter, Ryan's nephew. I guess I can't blame him for choosing family over me. But the point is, it doesn't matter if I'm right or wrong."
"It doesn't?"
"No, because it doesn't determine whether I'm sane or crazy. I truly believe what I say, and have acted accordingly. Throughout history, people have fought and died for causes that turned out to be mistakes. Did that make them insane?"
"No, but there must come a time when we must bow to the logic of the situation."
"What are we, Vulcans? What about faith? Father Ken, if you lived in a society that denied Jesus was the son of God, and was going to lock you away for your crazy belief, would you disavow him?"
"No, but that's different."
"Why?"
"Because...Jesus truly is the son of God."
"Can you prove it, logically? Can you offer unchallenged scientific proof?"
Father Ken sighs. "No."
"How convenient you live in a society that honors you for your beliefs." (Joan checks her watch.) "I gotta jet. I promised to meet some friends. I look forward to our next session."
Joan heads for the door. Father Ken calls after her...
"Joan, why did you pick me for a counselor?"
"I know you love God, and you love this church. You had a right to know."
"What if I don't believe you?"
Joan smiles. "Mark 4:27."
Joan exits.
Father Ken quotes, "The seed sprouts and grows, though he does not know how."
X X X X X
Back at police headquarters, Carlisle is standing by his desk in the detectives' buulpen. He tosses a few papers into his briefcase as Will walks up.
"Done for the day, Sergeant?"
"Yes sir. All of Lt. Chadwick's paperwork is completed, filed and with copies waiting for her on her desk."
"I'm sure Toni will appreciate it. I know I do."
Carlisle mutters, "If you say so, Boss."
"Is there a problem?"
"Can I speak my mind?"
"Of course."
"We both know this paperwork assignment was totally bogus. Did I do something to tick you off?"
"No, of course not, and I'm sorry..." (Will looks around to make certain no one can hear them.) "Can I trust you with a very embarassing secret?"
"Will, you know me."
"Okay, the reason I kept you in the office all day is because my wife had a dream that you would be killed today if you went out."
"Will, you believe in that stuff?"
"No, but my wife does. The only way I could give her peace of mind was to promise I'd keep you here all day."
"Couldn't you have just promised without doing it?"
"No, because the first thing Helen will ask me when I get home is about this. I'm no good at lying to my wife."
Carlisle unsuccessfully tries to suppress a laugh.
Will responds, "Just wait until you get married. Then you'll understand."
"Thank God I'm a bachelor."
"Oh funny." (Will holds out his hand.) "No hard feelings?"
Carlisle shakes his hand. "None, as long as you promise not to buy your wife a crystal ball."
Will laughs, waves goodnight and exits. Carlisle closes his briefcase, puts on his coat and heads for the exit. The phone on his desk rings. He hesitates for a beat and answers it.
"Carlisle."
"Sergeant, this is Vera Lewis. I finished gathering my financial records earlier than expected. Would you like me to drop them off?
"Actually, I was on my way out. Are you home?"
"Yes, just a dull night of grading papers."
"Your place is on my way. I'll be there in twenty minutes."
"I'll be waiting."
X X X X X
Near sundown, Joan, Grace and Glynis are in the Jeep, a block away from the Herald's parking lot. Glynis watches through a pair of binoculars.
"No movement yet. It's a shame Ryan doesn't keep a more regular schedule. The tailing process wouldn't be so time consuming."
Grace responds, "If we're ever going to catch him when he's up to no good, it will be during one of those unscheduled, irregular moments."
Joan asks, "Is the tracker on the Corvette working okay?"
Glynis glances at a device near her. "G.P.S. tracker working normally."
Grace asks, "Girardi, how did your first day of therapy go?"
Glynis questions, "What's this about?"
Joan sighs. "My family is worried I've gone goofy again because of my anti-Ryan campaign. To keep peace at home, I had to agree to go back into therapy."
Glynis nods. "If we don't start gathering some hard evidence soon, we may all end up in therapy."
Grace softly says, "I...I already am."
"Grace, you?" Glynis asks in a shocked tone.
"Okay, this is strictly within sub-defective privacy rules."
Joan responds, "Of course."
Glynis adds, "Agreed."
"When Luke and I became sexually active, I started having problems. A lot of psychological junk that I had been suppressing for years began coming to the surface. If all came to a head when my Mom caught Luke and me doing it."
Glynis remarks, "Oooh, that's always an awkward moment."
"More than awkward. I fell apart. I knew I had to get help or face a total breakdown. So, I've been seeing Dr. Hunter for about three weeks."
Joan asks, "How are you doing?"
"Better. I don't feel like I'm spinning out of control anymore."
Glynis asks, "Have you identified the root cause of your problem?"
"Oh yeah, that wasn't hard to nail down. When I was four and five years old...I was sexually molested."
For a beat, Glynis and Joan sit in stunned silence.
"Oh Grace, come here." Joan says as she embraces Grace fiercely and gives her a long hug. After a moment's hesitation, Glynis also puts her arm around Grace.
Glynis says, "Grace, I'm so sorry. No child should ever have to experience such a violation."
The group hug continues for a few more moments, then Grace raises her hands, gently pushing the other two away.
"Enough with the touchy-feely crap. I'm still me."
All three girls wipe away a few tears.
Joan asks, "Are you going to be okay?"
"I think so. I keep wanting to rush through the process, and get this chapter of my life over with, but Dr. Hunter is making me stick with it every step of the way. I know he's right, but it's hard."
Joan says, "Keep with it, Grace. We're here to help in anyway we can."
Glynis looks away and quietly says, "When I was seven, a man in the park exposed himself to me."
Grace responds, "Really? What happened?"
"I was very frightened. I screamed and ran back to my mother. The man got away."
Joan also breaks eye contact and says, "When I was twelve, I was just begining to develop. One day at the public pool, one of the older boys put his hand inside my top and squeezed my breast. I was so embarassed, I ran into the girl's locker room and started crying. I stayed there until it was time to go home. I've never told that to anyone."
Grace says, "I guess we have more in common than I thought. I wonder if all girls go through junk like this?"
Glynis answers, "It's probably a lot more common than we would like to think."
Joan adds, "And like me, they keep it secret. Speaking of which, this is all under sub-defective confidentiality?"
Grace nods. "Absolutely."
Glynis adds, "Let Luke's fate be our warning sign."
Grace adds, "Yeah, how long is that going to last? Brain-boy and I are on a break during my therapy, so freezing him out hasn't been too hard. But someday, I'd like to start locking lips with him again."
Joan responds, "I don't know. I never expected it to last this long. I thought after a couple of days, he would apologize and promise not to do it again."
Grace nods. "He can be stubborn."
"Worse, he doesn't think he did anything wrong. He says his care for my well-being supercedes group rules."
Glynis remarks, "No, if he had legitimate concerns, he should have sought the concensus of the group. Unilateral disclosure of our activities to your parents was just wrong."
Grace adds, "The sub-defectives can't function if there's a breach of trust."
Joan says, "Then the freeze continues."
Glynis puts her hand out between Joan and Grace. "Sub-defectives."
Grace adds her hand. "Sub-defectives."
Joan also adds hers. "Sub-defectives!"
X X X X X
At that moment, Carlisle is knocking on Vera's door. A smiling Vera answers...
"You made good time, Sergeant. Please come in."
"Thanks. Say, something smells good."
"Fresh choclate chip cookies. Help yourself."
"Thanks again."
Carlisle enters the living room and spots a plate of cookies on the coffee table. He grabs a few.
"I left my financial papers in ther bedroom. Make yourself comfortable, and I'll be right back."
Carlisle nods and Vera exits the room. He begins casually looking about, and notices the high quality furnishings.
"This is really a nice place you've got."
From the bedroom, Vera calls back, "Thanks. One of the perks of having a rich boyfriend."
Carlisle wanders over to the fireplace mantle and lifts a framed photograph. The picture is ov Vera and Marla laughing on a beach.
"Who's this with you in the photo?"
"My old room mate, Marla Bennett."
"Really. You kept her picture even after she sneaked around with your boyfriend?"
Vera re-enters the room, carrying a thick file folder. "I try to remember that Marla was a good friend for a lot of years. Besides, she lost, so why hold a grudge?"
"That's a generous attitude."
"As you can tell from these financial records, I can afford to be generous."
Carlisle returns the photo to the mantleplace and accepts the folder, which he locks in his briefcase.
"Thank you Miss Lewis for your co-operation."
"Not at all. If you have any questions, I or my accountant, will be available."
"Okay, and thanks for the cookies."
Carlisle walks to the door, places his hand on the doorknob and then pauses.
"Forget something?"
"I'd like to look at that picture again."
"Of Marla? How come?"
"I know I've seen her some place before."
Carlisle walks back to the fireplace and stares at the photograph.
"Marla lived in Arcadia for years. Maybe you met her?"
"No, but I've seen her picture... (Snaps his fingers.) "Marston!"
Suddenly the fireplace poker slams into Carlisle's skull. Carlisle falls heavily to the floor and remains motionless. Without emotion, Vera prods body laying at her feet. She then crosses over to the phone and dials a number.
"Charlie, we have a problem..."
X X X X X
Back at the sub-defectives stakeout, a minivan hastily parks in front of the Jeep. Dylan and Luke exit the minivan.
Joan says, "This can't be good."
Grace asks, "Is Luke out of his mind?"
"Glynis, keep the equipment hidden, and keep an eye on Ryan's car."
"I will. Good luck, ladies."
Joan and Grace exit the Jeep and head for Dylan and Luke like gunslingers approaching a shoot out.
Dylan says to Luke, "You were right. They're spying on my uncle again."
Grace asks, "Luke, what do you think you're doing? How can you betray sub-defective secrecy, again?"
"This is a family matter, Grace. Besides, Dylan is a sub-defective too."
"Not anymore. He made his choice when he picked his uncle over Joan."
Dylan mutters, "Joan, I want a word with you, in private!"
"And you decided a shouting match on a street corner was the way to go?"
"No one is shouting. Luke, could you and Grace give us a moment?"
"What do you say, Grace? Wall with me?"
Grace shrugs and joins Luke. They stroll away.
Joan says, "Okay, we're alone, sort of. Since I'm busy being crazy, could you make this quick?"
"What did you say to Dillon? The silly litle bitch broke up with ME. She said it was because you told her the truth. What truth?"
"Simply how you left my bedroom without a backward glance and made your move on her the very next day."
"You...let her think we had sex?"
"We were going to, remember? If you hadn't seen my computer file on your uncle, and been reminded how crazy I am..."
"Then we would have had sex, and that would have been a huge mistake."
"Why? Because if you had seen the file afterwards, you still would have dropped me and hooked up with Dillon?"
"I...don't know."
Joan wipes away a tear. "Do you realize how much you hurt me when you left that day? I offered myself to you. That's not something I casually do. Then you hook up with a friend of mine just to hurt me more."
"Is that why you hurt Dillon like that? Revenge?"
"No, I didn't realize how far things had gone with the two of you. I just knew you weren't treating her fair."
"Who are you to judge?"
"Because...I'm guilty of the same thing. I owe you an apology. I'm sorry for using you."
"You mean for using me to spy on Uncle Ryan?"
"No, that was just a bonus. I mean, I used you as my rebound guy to get over Adam. My Mom and Grace warned me that was the case, but I couldn't admit it, not even to myself. Down deep though, I knew. Dylan, I'm so sorry for hurting you."
Dylan's voice trembles. "You...never loved me?"
"I did and still do, but not enough. Not in the way you deserve. After Adam cheated on me, my confidence with guys dropped to zero. When I fell for you it wasn't because you're so incredibly hot, which you are, it was because you were incredibly nice. That's what I desperately needed to date again, but it wasn't fair to you."
"If only I had known what you were truly like, maybe I wouldn't have fallen so hard for you."
"I'm the same crazy girl you met in September. I was already at war with your uncle back then, and that hasn't changed. You're the one who has changed Dylan, and not for the better."
Dylan pauses, guilt on his face. "What do you mean?"
"The guy I met in September was a serious Christian who didn't believe in casual sex. Dillon Samuels is a weak girl with a desperate need for the attention and approval of others. Any guy who would use her as a mere release valve for sexual tension, just to get over someone else, is the kind of guy the Dylan Hunter I first met would despise."
Dylan takes a step back in stunned revealation. Hearing his own deeply suppressed opinion of himself from Joan causes him to clearly see just how low he has sunk. Tears begin to form in his eyes...
"My God, what have I done?"
"You followed the advice of Ryan. Look how much influence he's had on you after only a few months. Imagine where that influence will take you in a few years."
"He...was just trying to help."
"By leading you down a dark path?"
"Joan, this isn't Star Wars, and Uncle Ryan isn't a Sith Lord."
"Then tell me your soul doesn't feel tainted and dirty. Tell me that isn't due to Ryan's influence."
"This is insane. You're trying to convince me that Ryan is..."
"Evil."
Dylan begins stepping back, shaking his head. "I can't listen to this anymore. You'll have me as crazy as you."
Dylan opens the minivan door. Joan calls out as he enters...
"James 5:16!"
Dylan hesitates a moment, and then the minivan pulls away. As it leaves, Luke and Grace, holding hands, arrive back.
Luke notes, "There goes my ride."
"Yeah, sorry. I haven't lost my knack for upsetting people."
Luke says, "That's okay. As Grace vividly pointed out..." (Rubs his cheek.) "I owe you an apology."
"Grace! You hit him?"
"A single slap. It's what you do to snap people out of it."
"Out of what?"
Luke answers, "I think she called it my smug, self-righteous arrogance. Anyway, after further discussion, Grace made me see the error of my ways. Joan, I'm sorry. You're my sister, and our...our..."
Grace snaps, "Say it."
"Our leader, and I should have been loyal, even if I do disagree with you."
"Thanks Luke, that actually sounds sincere."
"So, I'm out of the deep freeze?"
"All rights and priviledges of being a sub-defective, such as they are, have been restored."
Grace smiles. "In that case, starting with this."
Grace grabs Luke and gives him a passionate kiss. They embrace tightly and continue kissing. An embarassed Joan looks away, rocking back and forth on her heels. Glynis hastily approaches...
"Sorry to interrupt, but our quarry is literally on the run."
All four turn to see Ryan sprinting to his car. He jumps in and the Corvette pulls out, tires screeching.
Grace says, "Wow, he's in a helluva hurry."
Joan orders, "Time to roll."
The three girls run to the Jeep with Luke bringing up the rear. Joan and Glynis hop in and the Jeep starts. Grace hesitates at the door.
"You coming, Geek?"
"My opinion hasn't changed, but I'll keep quiet about this. Good hunting, ladies!"
Grace closes the door, and the Jeep quickly pulls away. Luke waves goodbye and then looks about at the area...
"Now where is the closest bus line?"
X X X X X
A short time later, Father Ken is in in one side of the confessional booth at St. Mary's. A nervous Dylan enters the other side and sits quietly.
"You can begin at any time."
"Sorry, I'm not sure how to do this. I'm not Catholic."
"You sound young."
"I recently turned eighteen."
"What brings a non-Catholic teenager to confession?"
"I was driving around, feeling so confused, when I felt an overwhelming urge to come in here. There's something I have to get off of my conscience. Can you help me?"
"I can't give you the absolution of the church, but I'll gladly listen and give you my advice."
"Thank you. I recently broke up with my girlfriend. She had huge issues with my uncle, and I couldn't continue to date a girl who had the crazy idea that my uncle was...well, to use her word, evil."
"Evil? A strong word. Not many speak of others in such decisive terms."
"Well she did, and even though I loved her, I couldn't put up with her insanity anymore. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get her out of my heart. So, I started dating a new girl."
"A rebound relationship?"
"Worse. I picked the new girl because I knew she would be easy to seduce."
"I see. And did you...?"
"Yes, we had sex several times, and I'm ashamed to say, I didn't treat her very nicely. Father, I've been a life long Christian, and I know casual sex is wrong. I especially know that coldly using someone like that is terrible."
"You sound genuinely sorry."
"I am. God, I've strayed so far. I've already repented of my sin, and I'm going to do everything I can to make amends to the girl."
"That's the advice I would have given."
"But that's not my dilemma. You see, in all of this, I was following the advice of my uncle."
"The same uncle your ex-girlfriend warned you about?"
"Yes sir. I've only known him a few months, but I've grown to admire and respect him tremendously. But now, for the first time, I'm wondering if my ex was right. At his core, could my uncle be evil?"
"He certainly gave you poor advice."
"I know, and before I met him, I would have shunned advice like that."
"Would you say your uncle is a smart, sophisticated, charismatic man who easily influences others?"
"That's a perfect description."
"Your uncle sounds like a man in friendship with the ways of the world."
"And those who chose friendship with the world, make an enemy of God. James 4:4."
"Despite your age, you are obviously mature in your faith. If your mind is still troubled in this matter, my advice would be to listen to how God is speaking to your conscience, and to rely upon the word."
"Thank you, Father. I appreciate your help."
X X X X X
On the north side of town, the Jeep pulls into a restaurant parking lot. Not far away is Ryan's Corvette.
Grace says, "What a let down. All that rushing through town, and all Ryan did was take Miss Lewis to Don Thornberry's."
Joan remarks, "When he was headed toward the airport, I had hoped he was fleeing the country. Maybe he's meeting with one of his accomplices?"
Glynis asks, "With Miss Lewis along?"
"Sure. She's in on it."
Grace responds, "I don't know, Girardi, you may be off on that. She's been nothing but nice to me."
Glynis adds, "And I have found Miss Lewis to be a dedicated and competent science teacher, despite her inexperience."
"Trust me. If she's under Ryan's influence, she's corrupted. I've got to see if they're meeting anyone."
Grace says, "Bad plan, Dude. The entrance is visible from every table. Ryan will spot you long before you see him."
Glynis suggests, "However, someone of Ryan's stature would undoubtedly be given the honor of using Don Thornberry's private table. It's on the west side with the view of the airport runways in the distance."
"Good idea. One quick peek and I'll be right back."
Joan exits the Jeep and circles the building. Moments later, Joan creeps on her hands and knees through the evergreen shubbery along side the building. As she approaches the window, she spots a pair of pink sneakers in front of her. She looks up and sees Little Girl God...
"Having fun, Joan?"
"Actually, I am. I kind of feel like Veronica Mars."
"Well, 'Veronica', don't bother peeking in the window. Ryan would spot you. Besides, he and Vera are having dinner alone."
"Good to know. While you're here, I've noticed a lot of scripture popping out of my mouth today. You're doing, I assume?"
"I merely jogged your memory at the appropriate moment."
"James 5:16?"
"'Confess your sins to one another.' That was the act of love I recommended."
"How...?"
"When you humbled yourself and confessed your flaws to Dylan, you eased the wounded pride that was blocking his view of the truth."
"I did good?"
"Excellent work, Joan. There is always great rejoicing when a lost lamb returns to the flock."
"You make it sound like I saved his life."
"Dylan was like someone standing on the edge of a crumbling cliff. You pulled him back in time. Take solace in that, Joan."
"What do you mean?"
"When I call someone to action, they do not suddenly become infallible. You can't save them all."
Little Girl God turns and walks away, giving the usual wave.
Joan quietly responds, "That's the scariest thing you've ever said to me."
X X X X X
Across town, behind a large apartment building, Carlisle's car stops in the middle of the alley. A man wearing a ski mask steps out of the car and goes to the trunk. After opening it, he removes a body that is covered on the top half by a plastic trash bag. The man removes the trash bag to reveal the dead body of Sgt. Carlisle. He carries Carlisle to the open car door and slams the detective's head into it, leaving a smear of blood. The body sags to the ground. The masked man takes Carlisle's handcuffs and gun. He fires three times into Carlisle's skull, turns and runs away into the darkness...
X X X X X
Back to the northside of town. The Jeep, lights off, comes to a stop on a narrow country lane in a lightly wooded area.
Joan says, "They turned down that path to the right. This is a close as I dare get. Where are we?"
Glynis replies, "This area used to be called Liberty Town. There was temporary housing here for factory workers during the Second World War. After the war, all the housing was eventually demolished, but the roads and driveways still exist."
"They barely exist."
Grace muses, "I remember this area. Luke and I use to sneak out here a lot to have sex."
Glynis responds, "It's been a popular teenage make-out spot for decades. Perhaps Miss Lewis and Ryan are doing the same?"
Joan says, "Why would they come all the way out here? They have their own places."
Glynis smiles. "There is a certain illicit thrill in being outside where others can catch you."
Joan responds, "Or maybe this is where they are meeting someone? I better go take a look."
Glynis says, "Wait Joan, you went last time. Share the wealth."
"You want to go, Glynis?"
Grace comments, "Why not? We're a team, ain't we? Let her go."
"Uh, okay, but be careful."
"I will. I have the nightscope with me. I can see them, but they can't see me."
Glynis exits the Jeep, and is soon out of sight.
Joan asks, "Is it my imagination, or did you want Glynis out of the way?"
Grace nods. "I've got another secret, and this time I wanted total privacy. This is absolutely just between you and me?"
"I promise."
"Last week, I bought a pregnancy test kit."
"You're pregnant?"
"I don't know. I've been too scared to use it, but usually my cycle is as regular as clockwork."
"How late are you?"
"A month."
"A month? Grace, you're pregnant."
"Maybe...all the stress I've been under has messed up my cycle?"
"You're pregnant."
Grace sighs. "I'm pregnant. Oh God..."
"When are you going to tell Luke?"
"I'm not."
"He's going to notice."
"If I tell him, he will want to marry me. That would ruin both of our lives. And think how our parents would react."
"So what are you going to do?"
"Girardi, I know your family is Catholic, and your church is opposed to this, but I can't keep it."
"Oh."
"You think I'm vile."
"No, I understand your position. I know the church's stance, but as for me, I never really gave the topic much thought. I don't know how I feel about this."
"What about Luke?"
"I don't know his view on abortion. He might not have one either. I do know this, if you completely cut him out of this monumental occurence, he will never forgive you."
"Oh crap, that's what I figured."
"What about you, Grace? Is this what you want?"
"No, of course not. In a perfect world, we would get married, raise a great kid and do the happily-ever-after thing. But in the real world, we're both seventeen, and this will ruin our lives."
"I'm so sorry Grace. Whatever you need, whatever you decide, I'll be there for you."
"Thanks, Joan. You're more than a friend to me. You're like a sister. I...love you. Oh wow, talk about being hormonal."
"I love you too, Grace, and I'd give you a big hug, but I hear Glynis coming back."
Grace clears away a few tears just before Glynis re-enters the Jeep...
"Joan, be very glad you didn't go."
"Were they alone?"
"Definitely. I couldn't get too close without them hearing me. They had music playing, and they had the windows down, despite the cold. I think Miss Lewis was...servicing him."
"Servicing? Oh! Eww...!"
"We better head back to the main road. If Ryan is like most guys, he's already done."
Joan starts the Jeep and begins to pull away.
Grace comments, "Well, wasn't this the cherry on top of a perfect evening."
X X X X X
Later, in the Girardi kitchen, Helen is at the desk sipping tea and reading a book. Joan enters from the back door...
"I'm home."
"Hi honey. Did you enjoy your girl's night out?"
"Girl's night out?"
"When I asked Luke where you were, that's how he described it."
"Uh, right. I just hadn't thought of it in those terms. Is there anything to eat? I'm starving."
"There's leftover lasagna. I'll fix you a plate."
Joan sits at the table while Helen microwaves the leftovers.
"Didn't you girls have anything to eat tonight?"
"We grabbed a few quick snacks, but pretzels and potato chips only carry you so far."
"Did you do anything fun?"
"No booze. No drugs. No sex. Scout's honor."
"I wasn't implying..."
"All we did was cruise around town talking about the usual stuff high school girls talk about. Classes, music, clothes, boys and sex."
"Sex?"
"Yes, tonight's topic was fellatio. Grace's position was that it is disgusting, and she could never do it. Glynis said if you love the guy, it's no big deal--no pun intended. My position was, I'll have to wait and see."
"This conversation is making me squirm."
Joan smiles. "Then my work here is done."
The microwave dings, and Helen places the lasagna before Joan.
"Were those remarks meant to discourage me from asking questions?"
"You catch on quick."
Will enters from the den. "Hey sweetie. Lasagna this time of night?"
"I'm a growing girl."
"So, did you have fun tonight?"
Helen shakes her head. "Will..."
"What, is it wrong to take an interest in my kid's life?"
Joan sighs. "Of course not. I'm sorry Dad, but I lost TWO boyfriends last year, so the topic of my personal life is a little sensitive."
"Sorry Joan. I wish I could say something to make it all better."
"Like, third time is the charm? Oh God, that would mean Friedman."
"So the two of you are really dating? You and Friedman, I never saw that coming."
"Frankly, neither did I. I know he can be a bit of a goof, but down deep, he's a nice guy."
Helen pats Will's hand. "Trust me Joan, good things can come in goofy packages."
Will asks, "Is that a dig?"
"No, it's an acknowledgement of your hidden qualities."
Helen begins kissing Will.
"Eww, now I'm starting to squirm."
Helen pauses briefly and smiles. "Then my work here is done."
They resume kissing, but after a beat, Will's cell phone interrupts...
Joan comments, "Saved by the bell."
Will answers, "Girardi. What? Oh my God!"
"Will?"
"Details?" (A long pause...) "Okay, I'm on my way."
"Will, it's Carlisle, isn't it?"
"He was found in the alley behind his apartment building. Shot in the head. I'm sorry, Helen. I have to go."
Will grabs his jacket and exits out the back door.
"Mom, are you okay?"
"I thought I had it covered. I thought he was safe."
"What are you talking about? How did you know that call was about Carlisle?"
"I...had a dream. God warned me Carlisle would die today. I know that sounds crazy, but I persuaded Will to keep Carlisle in the office all day. I was sure he was safe."
"Sorry Mom, but you can't save them all."
"What did you say?"
"You can't save them all."
"That's...exactly what you said in my dream. Am I losing my mind?"
Joan takes her mother's hand.
"Mom, it's time we had a talk about God..."
THE END. PLEASE REVIEW.