Transition Plan Chapter 128 - School Days Chapter 4

T rated for violence and cursing in Gaelic and German

Three days later Greenly walked out of her second meeting with Professor Hopkins and the Dean of Students. She was visibly shaken, and clutched herself as she left. The situation made a bitter cold day seem colder. She made a beeline to the bistro and waited at Table 17.

Jeanne, as usual, was there a little earlier than her 'boyfriend'.

Still ashen-faced, Greenly approached the French woman, "Jeannie, Can we talk?"

"Sure Greenly. Wait a minute... Are you all right?"

The pretty brunette looked around, and said in tears, "I'm on academic probation, Jeannie."

"Why?"

"It was a Code of Ethics violation: 'Willful and disrespectful disobedience of faculty assignment'."

Jeanne was very confused, "I can't imagine you'd ever do something like that. Which class? I have all the same professors you do. I've never seen you disobey a Professor or TA."

"All but one," Greenly thought, but said, "I can't say, Jeannie. You know the Code. The accused can't say anything about the circumstances."

The girls had given Jeanne a cute nickname for their French buddy. She loved it. So did Jack.

Jeanne became very worried, "Are you going to be expelled, Greenly?"

Greenly drew herself up in a brave stance, sighed, and admitted haltingly, "No. At least not yet, but it's not about grades, Jeannie. It's about research I'm doing assigned by Professor Hopkins. I know about you two."

"What?" Jeanne asked in panic. That Greenly knew Hopkins was a complete surprise to her.

Greenly could barely say, "I'm sorry Jeannie. I know that you and Jack are married."

The Scottish girl's look told Jeanne she knew everything and lying would not work, so all she could do was say, "Shush. Not so loud. How do you know?"

Greenly was very fretful, "I can't talk any more, Jeannie. We need privacy. We can't go back to the dorm right now. I'm worried... Too many eyes and ears."

Jeanne was very flustered, somewhere between anger and betrayal and sympathy for Greenly, but she did sense her fear clearly, so she offered, "Come with me to… my… our place. You'll be safe there."

When Jack arrived, Jeanne got up immediately and said, "Dearest, I'll fix you tea at home. We're taking Greenly with us. Right now."

Jack got bug-eyed in shock and anger, "What? The flat? No. Absolutely not."

Hearing Jack's strong objection, Greenly got very uncomfortable. She could tell that Jack was desperately trying to protect their secret as ordered.

Jeanne informed her husband, "She knows already. Trust me. This is the right thing to do."

Before Jack could make another angry response, in the language of the apes, Jeanne whispered only to him, "Korak, dear, watch every pair of eyes on the way home. Something is really wrong for Greenly. I'm going the back way with her. You go the normal way."

Having Jeanne call Jack by his jungle name was their trigger for putting her husband on total alert for trouble. None of them noticed the departure of a burly man slightly before them who had been studying a picture of Greenly, but wadded it up and threw it in the bistro's fireplace.

In November it was already dark in Edinburgh at only a little past 4 pm.

Jack asked in a continued Mangani whisper, "Will you be all right with Greenly?"

Jeanne was resolute but exasperated, "I still know how to fight bare-handed. You'd think this would be the one place in the world I wouldn't need a knife. Good grief."

"Be careful," Jack cautioned.

Returning to conversational Gaelic, Jeanne directed, "Let's go, Greenly. Jack will meet us at the flat."

Jeanne's hunch that she might have to fight to defend Greenly didn't sit well with Jack, so he took a third route home. The rooftops became his path, so he could watch both of the girls go home and for any signs of trouble. Long ago he'd learned the simple jungle animal truth from his father: 'Humans are entirely two dimensional. They never look above them'. He removed his gloves, shoes and socks, and jammed them in his coat pockets so he had absolute control of his climbing. He shivered in the cold but this was the only way. He was as noiseless on shingled rooftops and chimneys as he was in the thick of the rain forest.

There were only a few people out, but all were going about their business, except one who moved from shadow to shadow to stay out of eyesight of the two co-eds. Or so the man thought. That was Jack's target, and the shadowy figure never met anyone with this couple's tracking skills. Even with Jeanne's glasses. Her hearing and sense of smell were keen even if her eyesight wasn't. And the man in the shadows reeked.

Jeanne reached out to her man through the connection with her worry, but staggered him with explicit words, "Jack, we're being followed…"

The thought words were so clear to Jack it was like having a conversation with Jeanne standing side-by-side, and it nearly toppled him from his perch on a vent stack. That had never happened before.

"I know," came the words back to her. Real telepathy shocked her too and made her gasp.

Greenly asked, "Jeannie, are you OK?"

Jeanne made up an excuse, "Yes. Just fine. Just a cold chill. It's bitter today."

The gift of the connection had only been emotions and visions since it started. So Jeanne tried it again, wondering how Jack knew they were being followed, because she told him to go the other way home, "Where are you?"

"Five stories up and to your right," he explained.

She glanced upward without moving her head to not give Jack's position away to the stalker, and saw his shadow briefly against the moon's disk but he looked like a rooftop appendage.

"Bless you. I'm glad you're there. What's going on, Jack? I can 'hear' you," she thought to him.

"We'll figure it out later. Keep going. He's getting too close," Jack cautioned mentally.

The distraction of a truly telepathic connection between Jack and Jeanne allowed the stalker to cut in front of the girls and block their path forward. He was a hulking figure and back lighted by the moon so they couldn't see his face.

Greenly screamed, and tried to run. The stalker seized her arm and slapped her into silence. Jeanne started to break his grip with a kick, but saw the bulge of gun barrel in his pocket. She froze.

The criminal warned, "Don't move or I'll shoot. Give me your money."

Greenly was hysterical and there was absolutely no one around to witness this mugging. It was dark and cold in late November. This part of town was normally safe, despite being a little scary in the night. This man didn't belong here at all, and it was clear to Jeanne from the man's eye contact and unexplained recognition he was after Greenly.

Jeanne asked cautiously, "I don't think you want our money, do you, mister?"

The thug fell for her trap, "Shut up girl. I need to chat with your friend here. You stay out of this and you don't get any of what she has coming to her."

Jeanne knew this looked like a gangland 'hit' against a 'snitch' by an 'enforcer', a situation she knew all too well from her days with the Boss of Douala and Jaeger.

Jeanne speculated to see what would happen, and accused the man, "You're Hopkins' 'muscle'."

Greenly was so frightened she couldn't speak. She clutched herself and cried and whimpered and her jaw throbbed from his strike. She couldn't understand how or why Jeanne was so calm, and had figured it all out so fast.

The criminal narrowed his eyes, and knew he'd been called out, "Damn, Missy I really wish you hadn't said that. Now I have to rough both of you up. Why ain't ya scared of me, Missy? The other one is. And she should be."

Jeanne spoke in the tone of someone familiar with street violence, and assumed a hand-to-hand fighting stance that surprised the thug. She growled, "I've fought better men than you. With bigger guns."

It was an intentional insult in more ways than one.

The man hissed, ready to attack, "You bitse, because of that, I'm gonna take care of you real special."

While he held his gun at them he put on some brass knuckles and pulled out a vicious-looking club. Jeanne had seen a lot of ugly men in Siegfried's burlesque, but this one was truly disgusting. She wished she hadn't provoked him.

The criminal gave the girls an evil grin, "I'd like to say this won't hurt much, Greenly and uh… whoever you are, Missy. Greenly here needs to learn a hard lesson. I saw her talkin' to you, Missy. Probably blabbin' about things she shouldn't. Greenly needs to learn she can't quit. Or else. And you Missy, need to learn how to mind your own business. Such pretty girls. Too bad."

He twirled his spiked club threateningly.

Jeanne got as ready as she could to protect Greenly. It would be a fair fight if she could wrest the club from him and hoped to use her books as a shield for the first blow.

A huge shadow flashed from above and landed on the would-be assailant's head and shoulders. Jack Clayton had leaped from five stories up. The mugger landed on his face with the crunch of an instantly broken shoulder blade, nose, jaw, and teeth, and the downward force of 240+ pound Jack broke his ankle. A muffled gunshot went off underneath the man's body and he screamed and writhed, shot in the thigh. It went all the way through his leg, and a pool of blood quickly stained the dimly lit, filthy cobblestones. With an equally deft movement, Jeanne kicked the gun into the gutter where it could be found with his prints on it and him having fired it, and stomped her boot hard down on his brass-knuckled hand and the club. He screamed again.

Greenly fainted and fell without warning, overwhelmed at being witness to the violent defeat of the man, but also realizing it was Jack who had attacked the thug without mercy and Jeanne further disarmed him. The Scottish girl realized this was not the first time they had fought together.

Jeanne tried to tend to her friend, but noticed she had not hurt herself.

Jack asked, with his foot on the man's neck to pin him as he flopped around in true agony, "Help me here, dear. Fast."

Jeanne cut someone's clothes line with the assailant's knife, ripped up a towel, and quickly gagged and hog-tied the mugger, leaving him still writhing and yelling in muffled tones through the gag. They staunched the bleeding too. Lights were coming on and doors were beginning to open with curious people checking on the disturbance to their normally peaceful neighborhood. Jack knew they had to go or would be discovered. Jeanne and Jack had enough of lawyers and courtrooms.

Jack spoke softly but urgently, "C'mon. Now."

Jeanne leaped on Jack's back as she did so many times in transit in the jungle, and he scooped up the limp form of Greenly into his arms effortlessly. Using his prehensile feet, Jack grabbed several clotheslines, clutching them like vines, and the threesome took off straight up into the buildings without a left-behind trace or a clue. They heard the distant whistles of Seirbheis Phoilis na h-Alba, the Police Service of Scotland, closing in on the crime scene.

The first officer on the scene used a club to lift up the mugger's face carefully, "Well if it isn't McTavish. What's he doing in this part of town? Seems he met his match, though. We can finally put him away."

The officer's teammate asked, "But no victim? And tied up? What happened here? Did someone attack him?

"No way. McTavish does the attacking. I don't understand it either. Someone delivered him as a package to us. It is very odd. You'd think if a frightened person was attacked by him they'd only run away after they defended themselves."

"You're right, but if they hadn't, McTavish would have bled to death. But it doesn't really matter. We have dozens of warrants for his arrest. Plenty of other crimes with witnesses."

They kept looking around for some kind of clue that would explain this strange situation, until another officer exclaimed, "Ah! Look what we have here. A smoking gun…"

The officer picked it out of the gutter, and observed. The barrel was still warm. The Police Sergeant observed, "Someone really knows how to defend themselves from vermin like him. They made him shoot himself."

The butt of the gun was shattered where Jeanne's leather boot smashed it out of his hand, breaking most of the criminal's fingers. The studded club was broken in half lying nearby, and his brass knuckles were flattened against his other hand, crushing all of his fingers and pinning them inside the vicious hand-to-hand weapon like a vise.

McTavish was in absolute agony, still screaming through his gag.

"Aye, but who?" asked his colleague. Who's bigger and meaner than this guy?"

"Whoever it was, they're thorough."

There was not one single clue who McTavish had attacked and then retaliated and so thoroughly beat him that they toppled him where he stood. Jeanne was an expert at leaving no trace after a street fight so she and her Douala youth gang would never get caught.

The officers had exhausted themselves and admitted, "That's it, Sarge. There's nothing. All we can pray is whoever it was is a good person and that's the end of this."

"Well maybe we can make McTavish talk."

One of the younger policeman cracked his knuckles in suppressed joy, "Sarge, that's something I've been looking forward to for a really long time."

A look of horror arose in McTavish eyes over the pain he was already suffering. The thug had beaten the young officer's best friend and left him for dead two years ago. They yanked the thug to his feet and started toward jail.

…

Jack completed his final swing in their overhead journey. He leaped from the roof of another building and landed softly on the roof of their apartment building with the two young women. Greenly was still unconscious.

Jeanne had total trust her surefooted husband, and praised in a whisper, "Way to go, jungle boy…"

Jack was just as quiet but matched her line, to lighten their very serious mood, "My pleasure, dear. Better than a taxi?"

She retorted, "Umm, a little drafty, but I enjoyed the view. More like the DH4. At really low altitude."

Judicious use of deadpan humor even in extreme situations was a hallmark of this couple to help them remain calm. They suppressed their laughter, remained focused, and entered the hallway of their apartment unseen from an access door and ladder into their attic on the rooftop. Once safely inside their apartment, Jack carefully laid Greenly on a guest bed. They covered her with several warm blankets, and Jeanne got some smelling salts to revive her.

While they were caring for Greenly, Jeanne asked, "Think some real words to me, Jack. Like you just did there on the street."

"Sure, sweetheart."

He tried hard, with his eyes squinted shut and his mouth in a grimace, but all they exchanged was emotions, like always.

Disappointed by his lack of success, Jack invited, "You try, cherie.

With just as much concentration, Jeanne accomplished the same result: nothing but emotional transfer and an unpleasant vision of the initial attack.

Jack grinned, "You're cute with your face all screwed up, dear."

"Shut up Jack. This is serious. It's gotten violent," Jeanne frowned.

"Maybe that's why we heard each other."

Jeanne reflected, "Yeah, true. That's never happened before even when things were just as violent."

Jack observed further, "I guess we were in more danger than ever before."

"Just another God-given miracle when we needed it, dear," Jeanne weakly smiled at her husband. She kissed him and stated, "I almost forgot: my hero. Again. I'm losing count."

Jack winked at his bride, "You did great too, 'street rat'. You were absolutely fearless and had his full attention. That made it easy to pounce on him."

Pouncing was a skill Jack had learned from the leopards.

Jeanne blushed, especially to his acknowledgement of her old Douala gang leader skills, "Well, I guess. But I could do it because I knew you were up there somewhere waiting for the right moment. You still sure know how to make an entrance. And I thought the slave market riot was your best move. Tikara would have been very proud of you."

Jack added, "You almost took care of him yourself and didn't even need me."

Jack knew all too well he was always on the losing end of hand-to-hand wrestling with her. And so did she.

She blushed abut then noticed, "Oh look, Greenly is coming back to us."

The Scottish girl's eyes fluttered and she asked groggily, "Jeannie? Jack? Wh-wh- what happened?"

Jeanne assured her, "We're here. Don't move. You fainted."

Greenly panicked, thinking she was still on the street, and tried to get up, "Omigod! That man!"

Jeanne gently pressed her to lie down on the bed, "He's gone. We… uh… escaped. We're home."

"But… how? He had a gun. And more. He was going to… oh my…" Greenly tried to put the pieces of their horrible experience back together.

Jack lied, "The… um… Seirbheis Phoilis surprised him."

She gave them a dubious look, "That wasn't the Police, Jack. I know you're holding back. That was you. Both of you. I saw you disarm him, Jeanne. Somehow you stopped him and got me out of there. You were both so brave. You… both know how to fight, don't you?"

With her eyes cast down, Jeanne confessed, "His dad and my dad taught us. It's a long story."

Greenly was grateful to be saved by them, not angry, "You don't need to say. I'm the one who has a dark story I've been hiding from both of you. I don't deserve to be called 'friend'."

"Why, Greenly?" Jeanne felt her suspicions being confirmed with the girl's admission.

She hung her head in shame and confessed, "Hopkins isn't studying you. It's all rigged against you. I've been spying on you… for Professor Hopkins. And being paid by the people backing him."

"The Chancellor?" Jack speculated, remembering their gruff reception.

"No. He doesn't have a clue. Rich alumni who don't want change, don't want married students at the University, want you both expelled, and clearly will do anything to get it done. The study is just a sham."

"Oh dear," Jeanne fretted, "Like that man tonight."

Greenly began to cry, "Yes. I'm so sorry. I had no idea Hopkins could do something like that. He's a professor. He's supposed to protect and educate students."

Jack observed very seriously, "A very ambitious and ruthless professor."

Greenly felt more ashamed than ever and needed to get away from the people she had betrayed, "Jeannie… I… I feel better now. I think I better go back to the dorm now. I don't need your help. I deserve what's coming to me."

Jeanne insisted, "You'll do no such thing, my friend. You are staying right here. It's nearly 3 am."

Greenly repeated, "I'm no friend of yours."

Jeanne gave the girl a welcoming smile, "Of course you're my friend. Friends make mistakes and friends forgive friends who make them. Even when they're big mistakes."

The brief remembrance of Eleanor passed in a glance between Jack and Jeanne but it didn't hurt anymore.

"Th… thank you. I'm so grateful," Greenly could barely say aloud, and cried in Jeanne's arms.

Jeanne's inexhaustible well of forgiveness for those who hurt her the most was once again remarkable to Jack.

When Greenly quieted, Jeanne asked softly, "So what exactly were you doing for Hopkins?"

Greenly explained, "I'm so sorry, Jeannie. It seemed very innocent at the time. I wanted to go to college after grammar school, and was seeking tuition help. My parents couldn't afford it and I needed to work my way through. I was pretty aggressive about raising money, so much so that someone from my home town near Glasgow found out and contacted Hopkins, and he contacted me. Apparently my drive and dedication impressed them. Hopkins offered me to help him with a study to watch the social behavior of college couples and study habit differences over singles. It sounded interesting. I like sociology. But it went bad quickly - to study only you and your every movement, and it all had to be a secret because you were married, which is against the rules. It didn't feel right at the time, but it was just a job and it paid the bills, and you were just two strangers to me. But you two are amazing. You just attract people around you. Now, I would never hurt you willingly. I… I never expected to become friends with both of you and I certainly didn't mean to betray you, Jeannie, dear. Jack, I don't know how to ask your forgiveness either. I got in too deep and finally knew that I had to say 'no' to the whole mess. It was just not right. Tonight's attack has to be Hopkins' doing. I never expected Hopkins or his friends to have me beaten to keep me quiet."

"Or be killed," warned Jack.

"Oh dear," the Scottish co-ed finally realized that possibility.

Jeanne inquired, "Why do you think you were attacked?"

Greenly stated, "Three days ago I quit on Hopkins, telling him I couldn't rightfully spy on you anymore, Jack and Jeanne. He was setting you up to be liars about your marriage and punish you with Code of Ethics charges. And I was supposed to set you up. And here's how…"

Greenly explained the rest of Hopkins' demands. The pair couldn't believe the situation she was told to arrange.

"At the same time we were ordered to lie about our marriage?" Jeanne fumed.

"Exactly," Greenly confirmed.

"That arschloch!" Jeanne slipped with a truly angry curse.

"Here in Edinburgh, that's: 'póg mo thóin'," Jack added, and Jeanne just rolled her eyes.

"I thought you were never going to teach me Gaelic cursing," she grinned.

He just shrugged, "Well… that word is much more colorful in Gaelic than German, dear!"

Greenly laughed for the first time since the attack. She had never heard Jack or Jeanne curse before, and was amused by the couple's interaction, even over a very serious matter. It was entertaining and calming. They seemed to know how to handle situations like this.

The Scottish girl continued her story, "After I quit I was never going to tell anyone about you and prayed it all would go away and you'd never know I lied to you from the start. I am so sorry you got all tangled up in this. I don't know what's wrong with Hopkins and those alumni. Why they hate the thought of married students. Why he hates you guys especially. It's a horrible mistake."

Jack added to the discussion to calm Jeanne's friend, "It's all right, Greenly. We all get misled thinking something is right and then it turns out all wrong."

Greenly praised Jack, "You let me live through that mistake."

Jack said very honestly, "It's time to undo that mistake."

Jeanne calmed her husband, "But Jack dear, not until morning. Greenly, let's get you settled here in our guest room. You're staying with us tonight and maybe several nights until this settles. In the morning we'll call your dorm RA and tell her you're staying with friends so they won't worry."

"Thank you," she said and then she looked around. This is an amazing flat. How can you aff…" and then she remembered their wealthy status, "Oh… right… you're Viscount and Lady Clayton."

"Can we just forget that while we're here at the University?" Jeanne complained gently.

Jeanne helped Greenly get settled into the guest room, but the girl asked, realizing how exhausted she was, "Maybe I should stay here the night and just sleep. Do you have a nightgown I can borrow, Jeannie?"

Jeanne blushed, "Um. I actually don't own one. It's… uh… not the way Jack and I sleep together."

Both husband and wife glanced and blushed at each other.

Realizing what Jeanne just said, it was Greenly's time to blush.

There wouldn't be any restful sleep that night, because a light knock on their flat door came at that moment. Their wall clock read 4:30 am. Jack and Jeanne both went to the door, and Greenly cautiously followed them. It was the Seirbheis Phoilis accompanying another very familiar elderly face.

Both gasped.

"Chancellor!"

The old man smiled kindly, and requested quietly, "Sorry to disturb you, Viscount and Lady Clayton. Ah… Miss Greenly. You're safe. My dear students, may we come in? We need to talk."