Chapter VII
From The Files of Rebecca White: Clairvoyance or Coincidence? (p. 11)
Becky could hear her father, John Hargensen, attorney at law, talking in Mr. Morton's office. He was a serious looking man, dressed neatly in a suit and hair combed smoothly.
(spoiled little brat!)
She could hear Mr. Morton and Mr. Hargensen talking:
"Apparently," said Mr. Hargensen. "I am here because my daughter was manhandled by her gym teacher, Miss Rita Collins. And verbally abused, I'm afraid. I believe the term Miss Collins used in connection with my daughter was 'shitty' and slapping her across the face."
"Miss Collins was reprimanded."
Mr. Hargensen's smile faded. "I'm afraid a reprimand will not be sufficient. I believe this young lady's first year in a teaching capacity?"
"Yes, she is eminently satisfactory."
"Your apparent definition of eminently satisfactory includes hitting students and having the ability to curse like a sailor?"
"As a lawyer, you must be familiar with the term in the school title in loco parentis. If not, I'd advise you to check Monondock Consolidated School District vs. Cranepool or..."
"I'm familiar with the concept," said Mr. Hargensen. "Are you familiar with District #4 vs. David, that deals with verbal and physical abuse?"
"I am indeed familiar with it."
"Let's not quote cases at each other, Mr. Morton," said Mr. Hargensen. We're busy men. My daughter is at home and she will stay there Monday and Tuesday; that will complete her three-day suspension. All that I ask are two things: One, prom tickets for my daughter. A girl's senior prom is very important. Two, no contract renewal for Miss Collins."
"So court is alternative if I don't agree to your demands?"
"I understand that the school committee hearing will proceed to that. But yes, court will be a final result for you."
"For physical and verbal abuse?"
"Basically."
"Are you aware, Mr. Hargensen, that your daughter and her peers threw sanitary napkins and tampons at a girl who was having her first menstrual period who was under the impression that she was bleeding to death?"
Mr. Hargensen flushed. "I hardly think such allegation is at issue..."
"This girl, Carrietta White," interrupted Mr. Morton, "was told to 'plug it up' and was subjected to various obscene gestures. Doesn't that sound like physical and verbal abuse? Sounds like it to me."
"My daughter also told me that some girl physically attacked my daughter, causing her to lose a tooth..."
"The girl who attacked your daughter was Carrie White's sister, Rebecca..."
"Somehow...I don't know, burned her ears, she called my daughter a 'dirty pussy cunt' after the fight and threatened to kill her..."
"Becky White explained to me that she was trying to protect her sister. But she was punished with a detention."
"I don't intend to sit here and argue about half-truths. I know my daughter well..."
"Here." Morton reached into the wire IN basket across the desk. "I doubt that if you know your daughter represented in these cards. If you did, you might realize that it's time for a trip to the woodshed. It's time that you snubbed her close before she does anymore major damage to anyone else."
"You aren't..."
"Bates, four years," Morton interrupted. "Tested for an IQ of a hundred and forty. Eighty-three average. Accepted into Oberlin. However, she's had seventy-four assigned detentions. Twenty of those are for harassment for misfit students. I understand that Chris' cliques calls with her friends...they find it quite hilarious. She skipped out on fifty-one of those assigned detentions. At Chamberlain Junior High, she was suspended for putting a firecracker in one girl's shoe...the most recent was vandalized Becky and her Carrie's locker and a catfight with Becky. We're talking about your daughter, Mr. Hargensen. Does that tell you anything, Mr. Hargensen?"
"Yes," said Mr. Hargensen, his face flushed. "It means I'll see you in court."
"Let it be court then," said Mr. Morton. "The same umbrella that covers your daughter also covers Carrie and Becky White. And the minute you file these damages on the grounds of verbal and physical abuse, we will cross- file against your daughter on the same grounds for Carrie and Becky White."
Mr. Hargensen's mouth dropped wide open. "You won't get away with this cheap gimmick like this..."
From The Shadow Exploded: Clairvoyance, Telepathy, or Out-of-Body Experience? (p. 12)
It was May seventeenth. Becky was sleeping in her bed...dreaming maybe...
She felt strange...she felt her body was colder than ice. She looked at a hairbrush on the bureau.
Flex. Carrie's voice said.
She was lifting the hairbrush. It was heavy. It was like lifting a barbell with very weak arms. The hairbrush slid to the edge of the bureau and it dangled like it was tied to an invisible string. Her eyes were slits. Veins pulsed hard in her temples. Her respiration dropped to sixteen breaths per minute, blood pressure was 190/100, and heart rate was 140, and temperature dropped to 94.3 degrees. A doctor would have indeed been interested in what was going on with her.
Carefully she set the hairbrush down. Good. Last night she had dropped it.
She blinked her eyes again and rocked. Physical function was normal again; her respiration speeded until she was nearly panting. Clear your mind, relax.
"Carrie?" said her mother's voice.
(she's getting interference like a radio when you turn on the blender good good)
"Have you said your prayers?"
"I'm saying them..." Carrie said, only it felt as if Becky were talking rather than her.
Becky felt cold and sweaty after she said that.
Becky waited until midnight to sneak out of her bed. She quietly tiptoed across the floor towards her sleeping sister. The floorboards creaked beneath her pale bare feet as she treaded upon them. She saw Carrie sleeping in her bed. She reminded Becky of a wretched angel that had fallen from heaven, abused and used. Becky crawled into bed next to her sister, slipping between the warm sheets. Carrie opened her eyes, seeing Becky, looking sad, lonely and frightened. She smiled at Becky and she smiled back.
"Stay," whispered Carrie.
"Together forever," whispered Becky.
From The Files of Rebecca White: Clairvoyance or Coincidence? (p. 15)
Chris and Billy Nolan were driving down the road, him staring at her braless breasts and her nipples puckered through the material of her sweater
(slut)
Billy slugged down a beer that Freddy Overlook tossed him as he drove next to him in the opposite lane. Seeing a police car in the rear view, he panicked.
"Oh shit!" he exclaimed, tossing the beer on the floor at Chris's feet, splashing beer on her skirt and her legs.
"Watch it, you stupid shit!" she screeched.
He drove in his car, pretending to be cool and not drunk. The police car drove away.
"Don't call me that, will you?" said Billy.
"Well, look what you did!" said Chris, showing the mess on her skirt.
He just laughed.
"Stupid shit."
He slapped her.
"I told you not to call me that!" he said.
"Look out!" exclaimed Chris.
Screeches of brakes from the other car and Billy pulled into the lane he was driving in.
"Dumb punk!" the driver shouted.
"Don't call me that, will you?" Billy said.
"You wanna get us killed?" Chris said. They were quiet for a few minutes and she murmured, "Dumb shit."
"You fuck!" Billy said angrily, doing a U-turn and going into the opposite lane.
They arrived at the bar and Billy prepared to get out.
"Don't hurry so," said Chris, stopping him.
"Don't hurry," Billy replied, rolling his eyes. "That's what I'm trying to do. Get away from you."
He found her sucking on his fingers, her green eyes glittering seductively.
"Oh, shit," he said.
They kissed, his hands crushing her breasts. She pushed him away. He laughed and tried to kiss again. She pushed him away again.
"Jesus Christ, what the hell's wrong with you?" he demanded.
"Will you just wait a moment?" Chris said, brushing her hair.
"But we do this all the time. You don't like it, do you?"
"Bullshit."
"NO?" he smiled. "Maybe you'd like this." He tried to put his hands between her thighs.
"No." She pushed his hands away from her.
He tried to do it again. Chris slapped and fought back to keep his hands away.
"Stop it, you dumb shit!"
He slapped her really hard; her hair flew in her face and a sting pricked her skin from the blow. A large, red handprint slowly began to appear on her cheek
"I thought I told you never to call me that!" he said angrily. "You know, you are totally fucked up! That's it! I'm convinced."
He sat there, staring straight ahead, fuming and red in the cheeks.
"Billy, come here," said Chris seductively. Then, lightly kissed his lips. "Billy..." she whispered. "I want you to do something for me, something important." She was now unbuttoning his shirt all the way to his navel.
"Billy, Billy, Billy..." she moaned, going lower. There was the sound of a zipper unzipping. Chris dipped her head down there, moaning, her hands pressing his chest, her mouth on his swollen manhood, suckling while he grasped the back of the driver seat, arching his back, giving her better access.
"Billy, Billy, Billy...I hate Carrie White."
"Who?" he asked, looking down at Chris, stupidly.
From The Files of Rebecca White: Clairvoyance or Coincidence? (p. 11)
Becky could hear her father, John Hargensen, attorney at law, talking in Mr. Morton's office. He was a serious looking man, dressed neatly in a suit and hair combed smoothly.
(spoiled little brat!)
She could hear Mr. Morton and Mr. Hargensen talking:
"Apparently," said Mr. Hargensen. "I am here because my daughter was manhandled by her gym teacher, Miss Rita Collins. And verbally abused, I'm afraid. I believe the term Miss Collins used in connection with my daughter was 'shitty' and slapping her across the face."
"Miss Collins was reprimanded."
Mr. Hargensen's smile faded. "I'm afraid a reprimand will not be sufficient. I believe this young lady's first year in a teaching capacity?"
"Yes, she is eminently satisfactory."
"Your apparent definition of eminently satisfactory includes hitting students and having the ability to curse like a sailor?"
"As a lawyer, you must be familiar with the term in the school title in loco parentis. If not, I'd advise you to check Monondock Consolidated School District vs. Cranepool or..."
"I'm familiar with the concept," said Mr. Hargensen. "Are you familiar with District #4 vs. David, that deals with verbal and physical abuse?"
"I am indeed familiar with it."
"Let's not quote cases at each other, Mr. Morton," said Mr. Hargensen. We're busy men. My daughter is at home and she will stay there Monday and Tuesday; that will complete her three-day suspension. All that I ask are two things: One, prom tickets for my daughter. A girl's senior prom is very important. Two, no contract renewal for Miss Collins."
"So court is alternative if I don't agree to your demands?"
"I understand that the school committee hearing will proceed to that. But yes, court will be a final result for you."
"For physical and verbal abuse?"
"Basically."
"Are you aware, Mr. Hargensen, that your daughter and her peers threw sanitary napkins and tampons at a girl who was having her first menstrual period who was under the impression that she was bleeding to death?"
Mr. Hargensen flushed. "I hardly think such allegation is at issue..."
"This girl, Carrietta White," interrupted Mr. Morton, "was told to 'plug it up' and was subjected to various obscene gestures. Doesn't that sound like physical and verbal abuse? Sounds like it to me."
"My daughter also told me that some girl physically attacked my daughter, causing her to lose a tooth..."
"The girl who attacked your daughter was Carrie White's sister, Rebecca..."
"Somehow...I don't know, burned her ears, she called my daughter a 'dirty pussy cunt' after the fight and threatened to kill her..."
"Becky White explained to me that she was trying to protect her sister. But she was punished with a detention."
"I don't intend to sit here and argue about half-truths. I know my daughter well..."
"Here." Morton reached into the wire IN basket across the desk. "I doubt that if you know your daughter represented in these cards. If you did, you might realize that it's time for a trip to the woodshed. It's time that you snubbed her close before she does anymore major damage to anyone else."
"You aren't..."
"Bates, four years," Morton interrupted. "Tested for an IQ of a hundred and forty. Eighty-three average. Accepted into Oberlin. However, she's had seventy-four assigned detentions. Twenty of those are for harassment for misfit students. I understand that Chris' cliques calls with her friends...they find it quite hilarious. She skipped out on fifty-one of those assigned detentions. At Chamberlain Junior High, she was suspended for putting a firecracker in one girl's shoe...the most recent was vandalized Becky and her Carrie's locker and a catfight with Becky. We're talking about your daughter, Mr. Hargensen. Does that tell you anything, Mr. Hargensen?"
"Yes," said Mr. Hargensen, his face flushed. "It means I'll see you in court."
"Let it be court then," said Mr. Morton. "The same umbrella that covers your daughter also covers Carrie and Becky White. And the minute you file these damages on the grounds of verbal and physical abuse, we will cross- file against your daughter on the same grounds for Carrie and Becky White."
Mr. Hargensen's mouth dropped wide open. "You won't get away with this cheap gimmick like this..."
From The Shadow Exploded: Clairvoyance, Telepathy, or Out-of-Body Experience? (p. 12)
It was May seventeenth. Becky was sleeping in her bed...dreaming maybe...
She felt strange...she felt her body was colder than ice. She looked at a hairbrush on the bureau.
Flex. Carrie's voice said.
She was lifting the hairbrush. It was heavy. It was like lifting a barbell with very weak arms. The hairbrush slid to the edge of the bureau and it dangled like it was tied to an invisible string. Her eyes were slits. Veins pulsed hard in her temples. Her respiration dropped to sixteen breaths per minute, blood pressure was 190/100, and heart rate was 140, and temperature dropped to 94.3 degrees. A doctor would have indeed been interested in what was going on with her.
Carefully she set the hairbrush down. Good. Last night she had dropped it.
She blinked her eyes again and rocked. Physical function was normal again; her respiration speeded until she was nearly panting. Clear your mind, relax.
"Carrie?" said her mother's voice.
(she's getting interference like a radio when you turn on the blender good good)
"Have you said your prayers?"
"I'm saying them..." Carrie said, only it felt as if Becky were talking rather than her.
Becky felt cold and sweaty after she said that.
Becky waited until midnight to sneak out of her bed. She quietly tiptoed across the floor towards her sleeping sister. The floorboards creaked beneath her pale bare feet as she treaded upon them. She saw Carrie sleeping in her bed. She reminded Becky of a wretched angel that had fallen from heaven, abused and used. Becky crawled into bed next to her sister, slipping between the warm sheets. Carrie opened her eyes, seeing Becky, looking sad, lonely and frightened. She smiled at Becky and she smiled back.
"Stay," whispered Carrie.
"Together forever," whispered Becky.
From The Files of Rebecca White: Clairvoyance or Coincidence? (p. 15)
Chris and Billy Nolan were driving down the road, him staring at her braless breasts and her nipples puckered through the material of her sweater
(slut)
Billy slugged down a beer that Freddy Overlook tossed him as he drove next to him in the opposite lane. Seeing a police car in the rear view, he panicked.
"Oh shit!" he exclaimed, tossing the beer on the floor at Chris's feet, splashing beer on her skirt and her legs.
"Watch it, you stupid shit!" she screeched.
He drove in his car, pretending to be cool and not drunk. The police car drove away.
"Don't call me that, will you?" said Billy.
"Well, look what you did!" said Chris, showing the mess on her skirt.
He just laughed.
"Stupid shit."
He slapped her.
"I told you not to call me that!" he said.
"Look out!" exclaimed Chris.
Screeches of brakes from the other car and Billy pulled into the lane he was driving in.
"Dumb punk!" the driver shouted.
"Don't call me that, will you?" Billy said.
"You wanna get us killed?" Chris said. They were quiet for a few minutes and she murmured, "Dumb shit."
"You fuck!" Billy said angrily, doing a U-turn and going into the opposite lane.
They arrived at the bar and Billy prepared to get out.
"Don't hurry so," said Chris, stopping him.
"Don't hurry," Billy replied, rolling his eyes. "That's what I'm trying to do. Get away from you."
He found her sucking on his fingers, her green eyes glittering seductively.
"Oh, shit," he said.
They kissed, his hands crushing her breasts. She pushed him away. He laughed and tried to kiss again. She pushed him away again.
"Jesus Christ, what the hell's wrong with you?" he demanded.
"Will you just wait a moment?" Chris said, brushing her hair.
"But we do this all the time. You don't like it, do you?"
"Bullshit."
"NO?" he smiled. "Maybe you'd like this." He tried to put his hands between her thighs.
"No." She pushed his hands away from her.
He tried to do it again. Chris slapped and fought back to keep his hands away.
"Stop it, you dumb shit!"
He slapped her really hard; her hair flew in her face and a sting pricked her skin from the blow. A large, red handprint slowly began to appear on her cheek
"I thought I told you never to call me that!" he said angrily. "You know, you are totally fucked up! That's it! I'm convinced."
He sat there, staring straight ahead, fuming and red in the cheeks.
"Billy, come here," said Chris seductively. Then, lightly kissed his lips. "Billy..." she whispered. "I want you to do something for me, something important." She was now unbuttoning his shirt all the way to his navel.
"Billy, Billy, Billy..." she moaned, going lower. There was the sound of a zipper unzipping. Chris dipped her head down there, moaning, her hands pressing his chest, her mouth on his swollen manhood, suckling while he grasped the back of the driver seat, arching his back, giving her better access.
"Billy, Billy, Billy...I hate Carrie White."
"Who?" he asked, looking down at Chris, stupidly.