Zoe E. Whitten's Blog, page 98

A Frosty Girl's Cure – Chapter 34

We piled into the jeep, and David set off in the same direction I'd come from. When he parked the Jeep, letting the engine idle, I looked around.

"Wait. David, I walked this way not two days ago, and I know there's nothing out here," I said.

"Not so," David corrected me. "There's a cactus, isn't there?"

"So what? There are cacti all over—" I said, stopping when I heard what sounded like metal grinding against sand.

Directly in front of the Jeep, a huge metal plate slid back, revealing a ramp of concrete that led down to a darkened tunnel. David drove down the ramp, and the tunnel lit up with light from phosphorescent tubes that ran along the ceiling above us in two parallel lines. The grinding noise began again as the trap door sealed shut, and the tunnel opened into a chamber with low ceiling that seemed to be an old garage.

David cut off the Jeep and got out, waving around. "This used to be a private sector nuclear test facility before it was made obsolete by more modern facilities. The towns around here were supposed to decide what to do with it, but they wrote it off as a loss nearly a decade ago."

"So how did Chet know it was here?" I asked.

"He was one of the activists that called for the facility to be used to make the construction of the super collider cheaper. That motion was turned down. Apparently the government felt that renovating this place would cost more than building a new facility from scratch." David turned at the sound of someone running quickly towards us from a hallway to our left.

As the man came out of the hallway, he slowed to a jog, and then began to walk, placing his hands behind his head as if he had just run a very long race with himself. He came up to us and shook hands with David, wheezing a little from exertion.

It was certainly Chet, and the shaggy blond mane and long scraggly beard did little to disguise that. He wasn't as bulky as the Chet from my world, but he looked fit for his age. Like David, he was nearing his forties and showing signs of grey in his hair and beard.

As he turned to look at me, I continued to make comparison to my Chet. He wore a black T-shirt and denim jeans that were ripped at the knees. In his blue eyes, there was a kind of deranged quality, making me wonder if hiding out in the desert had turned him into the kind of basket case the military claimed he was.

Chet finally caught his breath, and then laughed weakly. "Well David, you've brought the whole family, and…a guest, so what's the big occasion?"

"This may sound odd, but Terry met herself today, and she said she wanted to see you," David answered.

"Which one?" Chet asked without batting an eyelash.

"The little one," David replied and pointed to me.

Chet nodded, and waved a hand at his friend. "I knew that, buddy. I was just joking." He walked over to me offering his hand. "Hi there, Terry! What brings you to our dimension?"

I admit that it took me a moment to recover my jaw from the floor before I could speak. "An explosion caused by your counterpart, actually," I muttered.

"Ah, well then I'm sorry about that…at least, I think I am." Before I can comment, he asked. "Am I sorry? The other me, I mean."

"Somewhat. I had some harsh words for him even though he'd apologize already."

"Yes, well getting blown out of your universe can be a bit of a pisser, right?" Chet asked.

"Yeah," I said slowly. "Um, the fact that I'm even here doesn't phase you at all?"

Chet laughed, shaking his head. "David and I wrote a thesis on the possibility of there being infinite dimensions for every conceivable action in our lives. Each alterative choice spawns a universe where things moved in an entirely different direction. We both had to write a new thesis based on more practical applications of physics when our professor called our work…oh, what was it again?" he asked, looking to David.

"Delusional hooey," his friend answered with a smirk.

"Yes, that was it," Chet said. He chuckled, sounding pleased with himself. "We never believed him, of course. Scientists are sometimes even greater idiots than the typical moron. They state that if they don't see something, it must not exist. Kind of a boring way to see things, if you ask me. After all, our vaunted 'laws' of physics have actually been rewritten when what we can observe expands beyond what we were previously capable of. Therefore, it is easy for a learned man to admit that even if he cannot see something, that does not make the possibility unlikely. The fact that you are here in our world only verifies that David and I were right all along, even if our theory was really was delusional hooey inspired by late night tokes from a bong."

I laughed at this revelation, but get myself back on topic. "I'm not alone though. As I said, the Chet from my dimension is here. At some point, I need to look for him, since I want to help him get home."

"Terry has a theory that you might be able to use the collider to get her and this other Chet back into their proper reality," David said.

Chet scratched at his beard. "Ah…come with me. You can give me a more detailed account of how you got here while we walk to my quarters."

To be honest, I thought he was exaggerating, but it took us nearly an hour to walk from the garage to his quarters, and the hallway we were in still went on without any obvious end.

Chet sat down at his desk and turned on his computer, smiling at me. "So the Chet from your world is a superhero. I kind of like that notion."

I decided not to mention his taste in clothing or his job as a personal trainer. I guess finding out that I was a mother mellowed me out enough to be nice, or at least it had calmed me enough that I wasn't cursing Chet's name every few minutes.

I said, "I guess he was good at his job, but I was angry at him for his plan to stop Morgan."

"Yes, well his solution bears a striking resemblance to the logic I used in trying to stop the military from experimenting on humans," Chet conceded.

"But just like this dimension, his actions don't change anything. The chomps can rebuild the gun platform, and they have my actual body, so they can make clones indefinitely even if I'm stuck here. Chet may have succeeded in killing Morgan, but not the plan itself."

"Just as I only delayed the military's experiments here instead of halting them as I'd hoped," Chet mused.

"Look, I'd rather not worry about that. I came here to see if you could get us home. You see, the gun used a charged particle accelerator. Wouldn't it be possible for us to duplicate the explosion that brought us here inside the main chamber of the super collider?" I asked hopefully.

"It may be possible, but there's no guarantee that you'll end up in your own dimension. Given your immortality and Chet's invulnerability, I think you both could survive the transition from one dimension to the next, but what if you end up being further away from the place you call home?"

"It can't possibly be any worse than this place," I said, looking at Terry and Katherine. "I mean, with one or two possible exceptions. The point is that this is her world, not mine. If I have to keep blowing myself up to get home, so be it."

Chet sighed. "Yes, but that is precisely my point. If you ended up in a dimension where science had not advanced to our point, then you would truly be trapped."

"I have to risk it, or else I'll never get home," I said.

"Well then, I guess this will be our plan A—" Chet began.

"No, this is plan B, since Chet botched plan A." I corrected him.

"Yes, but if the plan was to kill you, I can see why he botched it." Chet said.

"His plan involved killing me, but he caught my family in the explosion." I didn't want to sound bitter, but I couldn't help it. Being trapped in a smaller body, my emotions were once again screwed up.

Chet's face fell. "I see. So no matter what dimension I'm in, I know I'll still be screwing things up."

"Chet, you weren't responsible for Vicky," David said quietly.

"Aren't I? It was my stupid sense of justice that got the military chasing me," Chet said, sounding almost as bitter as I did. "I didn't plant the bomb that killed her, but I set the events in motion."

"I can't change any of that, but if you recorded our departure, wouldn't that give you enough evidence to clear your name?" I offered.

Chet looked at me for a while before he smiled. "Even if it doesn't, I'll still get the chance to shut down that facility for good. For that alone, I'll help you."

"Then tomorrow, I'll have to go looking for Chet," I said, feeling better because I had a goal to hold onto. "Or, for my Chet anyway. Once I've found him, we can put together a plan to get into the collider."

"I'll still have to go to work tomorrow, so we need to head home." David got up from Chet's bunk and looked at me. "Would you like to come with us or stay here? I'm afraid all we can offer you is a couch."

"It will be better than sleeping in the desert," I said.

We began walking back to the garage, all of us lost in our own thoughts. Chet tapped my shoulder after several minutes.

"You know, you could stay here and go looking for your Chet tomorrow. I have so many things I'd like to ask you about your world. What you've told me is fascinating enough as it is, but you've suggested that there are technologies on your world that we aren't even close to understanding yet."

"I suppose so, but I want to spend as much time as I can with Terry and Katherine before I leave." I laughed softly at David's dejected expression. "David, please don't take that the wrong way. In my world you left me for my friend Beth less than a month after I'd gone to look for a cure for my stunted growth. Four years together meant nothing to that David, and so it hard to feel anything for him now."

"Beth tried to seduce me here, but in the end, she was missing something that Terry had in spades," David said, turning to smile at his wife.

"What was that?" I asked.

"Brains," he answered quickly. "Of course, when Beth found out the reason why I was ignoring her ample charms was my relationship with Terry, she was the one to go to the school board to report me for improper conduct."

"We don't need to bring her up, do we?" Terry said in a low voice.

David shrugged, looking to me. "Not unless Terry feels that it's something important for her to know."

"No, not really," I said.

"Tell me something. Have you always looked like this?" Chet asked curiously.

"No. During my life in Idaho, I looked twelve. Morgan aged me to a body that looked around fourteen for a while, and then he put me in this form as a punishment for punching him. The sad thing is, if I can't convince the chomps to reverse this condition, I'll be stuck as a child forever."

"What are the chomps?" Chet asked.

I described them, and I told him how Fluffy had intentionally fudged his numbers to support Morgan's claim that a double dose of nanites would be lethal. Chet looked at the floor thoughtfully.

"You said that these chomps were genetically engineered to be loyal, is that right?"

I gave a short nod. "I'm pretty sure, since that's what Morgan claimed. Why do you ask?"

"Well, if the explosion killed Morgan, then that is a genetic directive they would no longer feel a need to follow," Chet said. "What I mean is that if they knew their master's plan was flawed, and thus had no chance of succeeding, then they would most likely not rebuild the platform as you suggested."

"So because of their conditioning, they would only follow his plan while Morgan lives?" I asked, watching him nod. "So maybe Chet did solve the problem."

Chet shrugged. "I'm only suggesting that you might be able to sway them from building another gun platform. Of course this is a moot point if we send you to another dimension that's different from your own."

"But if we can get back home, at least now I have something I can work with." I smiled at Chet. "That's more than I had when I got here."

Chet patted my shoulder. "Glad I could help."

When we got back to the Jeep, Katherine curled up against me and fell asleep. Terry kept looking over her shoulder at me and smiling during the drive, but no one said anything. When we got back to the trailer, I carried Katherine to her room and put her to bed, watching her sleep.

I don't think I intended to stand there staring all night, but I was so enthralled by that little girl that Terry startled me when she put her hand on my shoulder.

I smiled at her sheepishly, and then looked back down at Katherine. "I guess she hypnotized me," I muttered.

"Would you like to sleep in here tonight?" Terry whispered.

I turned to look at her, already shaking my head. "Oh, I couldn't."

Terry knelt down beside me, nodding toward the bed. "Look at her. That's all you want, isn't it? A real family of your own."

"Yes," I whispered, surprised by the tears that suddenly welled up in my eyes.

"Then just for tonight, stay here, and pretend that Katherine is your daughter," She said, and then kissed my cheek.

She left the room, and I looked back at the bed. Never in my entire life had I felt such a range of emotions in such a short period of time as I crawled into bed with Katherine. The moment I got under the covers and settled beside her, she rolled onto my side, closing her arm around my neck. I could feel her warm breath on my throat, and I heard her murmur in her sleep.

I have to apologize for my sentimental rambling, but all I ever wanted was right beside me. That beautiful girl with her red hair and freckled cheeks was the true reason I was so desperate to find a cure, even if I couldn't admit it to myself before I'd met her.

I closed my eyes, and I silently prayed, God, please help me get back to my family.

A Frosty Girl's Cure – Chapter 33

I woke up in a desert, disoriented and confused as to how I could be alive at all. Chet stood over me, his expression shifting from anxiety to relief.

"Get away from me," I said.

"Terry, I did what I had to do," Chet said in a low voice.

I shook my head, choking back a whimper at the pain it caused me. "No, what you had to do was kill me. Instead you killed my family, and I'm still alive. Or did you miss that detail? If I survived, then the chomps survived, and they'll rebuild the gun and come looking for me to start all of this over again."

"I'm sorry," Chet said. "I didn't know Morgan had them."

"You're—" I stopped, swallowing thickly. "You're sorry? You stupid son of a bitch, all you had to do was kill me and make sure I couldn't be revived! You killed my family, and you're standing over me to apologize for taking the only people I love." I grabbed my forehead when I had a dreadful thought. "Oh God, what if he took Kevin too?" I tried to stand up, but dropped to the ground and screamed. Stabbing pains shot down my legs, and then raced back up to drive a tremor up my spine. Then every limb shivered in the following aftershocks.

Chet knelt down to help me. "Terry, are you—?"

"I told you to get the hell away from me!" I slapped him as hard as I could, gritting my teeth at the agony this caused for me. My screaming hurt my raw throat, punishing me for my chaotic emotions.

"I'm sorry," he muttered.

"Go away, Chet. When I've healed enough that I can walk, I'll get back to Texas and see if Kevin is all right." My scowl became more intense. "If he's missing, you'd better pray to God I don't find you, or I swear I'll find a way to kill you."

I watched Chet float away, but he blurred when my tears began to well up in my eyes. I lay back down in the sand and wept for my family. I prayed that Morgan had been satisfied to take just Sarah and Greg, but a sinking feeling in my gut told me he hadn't.

I lay in the sun for nearly a day and a half before the pain in my legs had subsided enough for me to stand on them. It was a good thing heat couldn't affect me, or I might have been toasted or tanned to death while waiting to heal. By despite my lengthy exposure, my skin never changed color.

My lips were getting pretty chapped without water, though. My limbs also still burned with a terrible ache, but I forced myself to work through the pain and get up. Slowly, I began to make my way West, hoping I could find a major highway soon. By nightfall, I gave up on that idea and lay down to rest, wondering which desert I'd landed in.

"Terry," Chet said, nudging my shoulder to wake me up.

"I thought I told you to go away," I muttered.

"I'd love to, but this isn't our Earth," Chet said.

I opened my eyes, turning to look at him. "What are you talking about?"

"Terry, what year is it?" Chet asked, sounding almost worried.

"It's 2023," I said.

Chet shook his head and pushed a folded newspaper at me, pointing at the date. "It's 1985 on this planet, and there's no City. The closest thing I could find was a place called Los Angeles. I can't find anyone we know there, and I'm a wanted criminal according to the news."

"For what?" I asked, and then sneered. "Littering?"

"No, for seventeen terrorist bombings. Apparently, I just bombed a church two days ago. The me from this Earth has long hair and a beard, but it's definitely still me."

"So what am I?" I asked as I sat up, looking down at the cover story with confusion. Indeed, some group called the FBI had just named Chet public enemy number one.

"I don't know. I didn't go looking for you. Well, I mean I did look for you, but not the you you from—"

"Yes, I understood what you meant," I cut him off as I stood up. "So the explosion of the gun platform punched us into a parallel universe?"

"Yes, a world where no one has powers," Chet said.

"And one where there is no City either," I mused. "What desert is this?"

"The road map I took called it the Death Valley," Chet said.

"Charming." I sighed and looked toward the distant horizon. "Let's go to this Los Angeles first. I need to get some healing spray there, since it feels like I lost some parts in the blast."

Chet shook his head. "There aren't any healing sprays here, or any nanites for that matter. The technology here is primitive compared to what we had in '85."

"Then what are we going to do?" I asked.

Chet shrugged. "I don't have a clue."

"Great," I said and snorted. "I couldn't have gone universe hopping with a rocket scientist or a physics major. No, I had to go with a personal trainer."

"You know, I could just fly off again," Chet grumbled in a hurt tone of voice.

"Fine, just fly on home, buddy." I snapped my fingers, which made Chet glare at me harder. I ignored him and said, "Oh wait, that's right! You don't have a home here, do you?"

"Why are you being like this?" Chet whined.

"Because you could have avoided this mess by following orders. Instead, you 'came up with a plan' that shot us into a hell hole universe so we can't go home. Are those good enough reasons, Chet? Or do I need more to be pissed off at you? Trust me, I've got more reasons if I need them."

I stood up, looking around to reorient myself back toward West. At least, I hoped it was still West. "Hey, here's another reason," I said. "You've been gone like two days, and did you come back with any clothes?"

I started walking again, and Chet spoke as he trailed after me. "I tried, but our money doesn't work here."

"Well, duh. I suppose you still tried to use money dated from our time after finding out the real date." I glanced back, rolling my eyes when I saw Chet bowing his head in embarrassment. "Look, you're going to have to break a few laws if we want to get home. First and foremost, you have got to get me some clothes if you want to hang around me. You may not have noticed this yet, but I'm a naked eight-year-old. You're not supposed to be looking at that.

"I'm not," Chet whined.

Honestly, it was his whining setting me off. I spun around to glare at Chet and put my hands on my hips. "If I have to find my own clothes, I suggest you don't come around me. I don't care if you can find a physicist who knows how to get us home. Just stay the hell away from me."

Chet tried to calm me down. "Terry—"

"I'm serious. If I see you and I'm dressed because I had to steal clothing from some poor slob, I'll seal you in so much ice that it'll take you a month to dig your way out."

Chet floated away again, so I ranted to myself about the sheer stupidity he'd demonstrated. When I got tired of ranting, I decided to switch to singing. I was in the middle of my third song, a haunting a capella rendition of 'Chet, the Magic Drag Queen,' when I saw what I initially assumed was a mirage.

The image didn't fade as I got closer, and soon I smiled when I recognized the flashing light as a little silver trailer parked out in the middle of nowhere. But of course, it was no longer the middle of nowhere anymore, because there was a road right beside the trailer. A sign beside the trailer proclaimed the road to be the scenic route.

I caught a movement from the other side of the trailer, turning just as a woman with long red hair walked around the corner carrying a basket of clothes. My jaw fell just as fast as hers did, but I was quicker to pick mine back up.

"Hello me, it's me again," I muttered in shock.

"I'm sorry?" the woman asked.

"Nothing. Just the heat getting to me, I think." I walked toward her. "Would you be able to spare a shirt or something? I uh…got mugged last night."

The woman set her basket down, pulling out a T-shirt. I fit like a nightshirt on me, and I looked up to see her hand me a pair of panties.

"These are my daughter's size, so they might be a bit snug on you. I'm sorry, but they're all I can offer." The woman apologized in a voice that was definitely familiar to me.

But that's because she was me.

"They're just fine, thank you," I said, considering my next question carefully. "You wouldn't happen to be Terry Donalds, would you?"

The woman's green eyes went wide with shock, and she shook her head. "No, I'm Terry Sullivan. I haven't heard that name since my brother called the cops on my father."

I nodded as I slipped on the panties. "Miss Sullivan, my name is Terry Donalds, and so I'll take a guess and say that your brother's name is Tommy."

Terry nodded. "It was, but he died in a car accident a long time ago."

"I've got some time to kill, and I'd really love to hear your story," I said.

"But Terry, if you're me, don't you already know it?" she asked, smiling at me.

"No, in my version, Tommy and I ran away from home. That is only the smallest difference, I think, so I'll tell you my story after you tell me yours."

Terry picked up her basket, nodding toward the house. "Get the door then. I'll make you some lunch."

I noticed when she turned sideways that she was about three or four months pregnant. Given that I was wearing her daughter's panties, I felt happy to know that at least in this universe, I had a real family of my own.

Terry made a burger and some iced tea for me, the whole time silent while she shook her head. She set the plate in front of me and sat down, resting her head in her hands. "I guess my father had been sneaking into my room for a year before Tommy worked up the nerve to call the cops. He knew I didn't want to sleep with my father, but he was afraid that no one would believe us. I think I was nine when he called them, but it could have been earlier than that. I'm not sure, since I haven't had to think about it in a while.

"Tommy got sent to a foster home, but the state found a family willing to adopt me. I was allowed to stay in contact with my brother, and we talked over the phone every week until he died. He and the father of the foster home he was living in had gone to a truck rally, and a drunk driver hit their car on the way home.

"As for me, I grew up Idaho. I met my husband David there, and after we got married, we decided to move to a place where it never snows," Terry said and smirked, waving her hand around for emphasis.

Swallowing a mouthful of food, I asked, "Your adoptive parents, what were their names?" Though truthfully, I was pretty certain of her answer.

"Douglas and Leona Masters," Terry said.

I laughed and said, "Of course. So, in this plane of existence, you married your high school sweetheart and moved to Death Valley to raise a family."

Terry nodded. "Something like that, but not quite." Terry leaned her head over. "I guess you're me from another plane of existence, not just another timeline, right?"

"Yes. In my world, Tommy and I ran away from home. But we did all right in the city because we have a few extra talents." I froze my tea to demonstrate what I meant.

"That's amazing." Terry got up to fix me another glass of tea. "Please, go on."

"We became super villains in a place known as City California, and we made a lot of money before both of us were killed by the retiring overlord of crime, Duggan Masters."

Terry nodded and set down a fresh glass of tea, her eyes sparkling with keen interest. "How did you come back to life?"

"Duggan cloned me, and he raised me in Idaho with Leona, a literal cat burglar."

"What, like she has cat ears?" Terry laughed.

"Yep, and a tail," I said. Terry laughed again, then stopped when she realized I was serious. "She was a military experiment, an attempt to make a perfect killer."

"Okay, that I can believe," Terry said. Then she sighed and waved her hand. "But never mind me. Go on with your story first."

"Something was wrong with me. See, this man named Morgan Funeral used what we call a nanite program to stunt my growth. That was to force me to come to him for help. So, even though I look like a kid, you and I are probably the same age."

"I'm twenty, almost twenty-one now," Terry said.

I gave a short nod. "Close enough. I'm eighteen." I laughed, overcome by my mixed emotions. "This is so weird. Your life parallels mine to an amazing degree, but Chet's is the exact opposite."

"Chet? As in Chet Atkins?" Terry asked, her eyes going wide with surprise.

"That's the one. The one I'm traveling with is a superhero, but in your world, he's a serial bomber."

"No he's not!" Terry shouted, her face flushing bright red fast. She calmed down when I flinched and tried to duck under the counter, but her voice wasn't much lower when she spoke again. "He's being framed by his former employers! He used to work at the super collider, but he found out they were putting people into the main chamber to test the effects of particle interactions on organic tissue."

"You know this world's Chet?" I asked.

"David worked with him at the collider for the last year and a half," Terry explained. "Before that, they went to college together. Chet used to come over for barbecues all the time."

"Wait, if David is a scientist, why are you living in this tiny trailer?" I asked.

"Because it's all we need. Or, we will have to get something bigger soon." Terry bowed her head and rubbed her stomach. "But we'll just get a double-wide trailer to make room for this little one." She shrugged, offering me a smile. "Why should we want anything fancy, when we have everything we need right here?"

I smiled and nodded. "What about the other kid?"

Terry smiled. "She's at school right now. The town has a preschool program for kids at age three, and David wants to raise a genius."

"Age three, huh? That explains why these panties keep binding up on me," I said.

Terry laughed. "Sorry. Really didn't expect myself to drop by naked today."

"And even if you did, could you guess my size?" I laughed and took a drink of my tea, thinking back over our conversation.

I should have wanted to ask about this world's Chet and David. After all, David couldn't just be nineteen if he already had a major career working for a science project like a particle collider. Chet wasn't a terrorist, but someone was framing him. So of course my curiosity started nagging me to ask who was framing him.

For as fascinating as these possible tangents were, I had another question come to mind that I felt was more important just then. "Does your daughter have a name?"

"Katherine."

I giggled, shaking my head at the irony. "I'm going to make a bold prediction that the man she marries will have the last name Watepetltiaoski."

Terry smirked. "That would be Kevin Watepetltiaoski. Katherine goes to school with him."

"Kevin? No way," I said, and we both started laughing.

We spent the afternoon telling each other stories about our lives until Terry announced that she needed to go outside to wait for Katherine's bus.

We were standing outside for just a few minutes when a short yellow bus pulled over to the side of the road, kicking up a small plume of dust. Katherine stepped off the bus and ran to her mother, giving her a hug before flashing her bright blue eyes at me.

"We have a guest today, sweetie. Can you guess who this is?" Terry asked.

"It's you, Mommy!" Katherine said and ran over to hug me.

My daughter. I can't quite describe the flood of emotions I felt then, but to have my daughter in my arms was both alien and comforting at the same time. I don't think I was sad or happy, but I was crying when I stepped away from Katherine.

"Mommy, what's wrong?" Katherine asked me in a tiny solemn voice.

"I—nothing's wrong." I wiped my eyes and smiled wider. "I'm just happy to meet you." This was an understatement of epic proportions. I realized that I felt pride because she was so beautiful, joy because she recognized me and accepted me without question. And I felt a deep yearning to know my own daughter.

We went inside, and while Terry fixed her daughter a snack, Katherine sat in my lap. This was rather interesting with me being so small, like holding a little doll who looked like me when I wasn't much bigger myself. Across the room, another me smiled back at us like this was the cutest moment in history. And maybe it was for her.

Babbling in a fast-paced stream that only allowed for declarations of "yeah," or, "uh-huh," Katherine showed me her work from school. She was smart as far as I could see. She could write most of her ABC's with straight lines. Her curved letters still became shaky, but she could already write her name, even if it was scrawled a little messy. Her shaky scrawled signature adorned the bottom of every drawing in her folder, and I admired every purple flower and smiling sun as though they were Rembrandt's finest masterpieces.

"Mommy, how come you look like a baby?" Katherine asked me.

"Where I come from, a bad man made me into a little girl forever," I said.

"So you can't ever be a mommy?" Katherine asked in a sad voice.

"Maybe someday I will," I said.

Katherine hugged me tight. "I'll pray for you," she whispered in my ear.

I had to smile at that, because if I didn't I was going to burst into tears. "Thanks. I know someday I'll be a mommy because of you." I leaned over and kissed her cheek.

Katherine pecked a kiss on my cheek and then slid off my lap to put away her schoolwork in her room.

As she wandered out of the room, an idea came to me about how I might be able to get home. It was still half formed when I looked at Terry with a hopeful pout. "Hey, can you tell me where I can find the Chet from this world?"

Terry nodded, setting a grilled cheese sandwich down for Katherine, who returned to my lap to eat it. "I can take you to him in our Jeep once David gets back from work."

So while we waited, we listened to Katherine describe her day around mouthfuls of food. I couldn't help but laugh at her. She was the sweetest thing I'd ever seen, and if Terry's life was such a direct parallel to my own, Katherine was a glimpse into my future. That was of course assuming I could get back home, but a plan for doing that was already forming in the back of my mind.

I was ready to leave as soon as I heard the Jeep pull up to the trailer outside, but then David walked through the door. I turned and looked at him standing at the door, and suddenly I felt like my plans could be put off for a day or more.

David was no taller in his universe than he was in mine, but he was a great deal older. Though he was still just as handsome, his short wavy hair was more grey than blonde. After Terry briefly explained who I was, David told me about himself, and how he and Terry had gotten together.

He had been her calculus teacher during her sophomore year, and they had grown closer over the next two years. A scandal broke out over their relationship during Terry's senior year, when she became pregnant despite them using protection. David was forced to resign, and Terry chose to follow David to California, where his old college roommate Chet had arranged for him to work at the collider.

Terry's father was willing to let his seventeen-year-old daughter move only on the condition that they were properly wed before they moved, and so they got married with both her parent's blessings. She'd completed high school locally and was attending courses for a degree in electrical engineering.

I shook my head, considering how our timelines had some major differences. At the same time, our lives were also so amazingly similar. I had still met the same David that this world's Terry had, and my adoptive parents were the same as hers. We even grew up in the same state, but she had a real extended family, and I had only the people who adopted me.

I had to set aside these thoughts as David described his work with Chet. "We were responsible for calibrating the sensors in the main chamber, where the particle collisions are tracked and analyzed. We'd noticed some of the sensors malfunctioning, giving false positives for the presence of foreign material interacting with the free radical elements after the collisions began.

"Chet volunteered to stay late one night, hoping to double check the sensors before we ran an experiment the next morning. He told me that after midnight, he saw a test set up by a group of scientists he didn't recognize, and he went to the main chamber to check things out. He assumed it was a night crew performing a separate set of tests until he heard people screaming from inside the sensor chamber itself. He went back to his station and pulled up the thermal sensors, finding two live human bodies inside the main chamber.

"Why?"

"We never cleared that up," David said. "It was Chet's belief that the military had been testing the effects of radical elements on living tissue."

"That would be pretty stupid," I said. "Radical elements are essentially antimatter, so the effect is the same whether they come in contact with organic or inorganic matter. The two elements cancel each other out."

David shook his head. "That's just it. In any given test, there aren't enough radical elements to completely dissolve a whole body. Nevertheless, Chet insists that both bodies vanished from the chamber right after the collisions began. That would be just this side of impossible, given how few radical elements would be present in the chamber at that stage, if there were any at all."

I nodded my head, feeling excitement at a possible theory for where the bodies were going. "So if the bodies are transported elsewhere, I might be able to use the chamber as a way to get home."

"Uh, are you stupid?" David remarked in an acidic tone of voice. "Because the way you were talking a moment ago, you didn't seem that way to me."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Terry, there's a lot of radiation, not to mention the—" he began.

"I got to your dimension when the cooling chamber I was in exploded. I should have shown up in your world as a crispified corpse, but I didn't. That's because I'm immortal."

"That impossible," David said.

"Hey, I was blown up, shot, stabbed, and had holes blasted in me with pure energy in my world. Trust me, I'm immortal." David looked like he wanted to argue the point so I pressed on quickly. "These people who were put in the chamber, they were most certainly dead before the real test started due to the radiation, but their bodies have got to be going somewhere. It's a good possibility that they're being sent to an alternate universe, just like I was sent here."

"You can take that up with Chet when you see him," David said. "This sort of alternate world concept has always been on of his pet theories. As for the collider experiments, he didn't care where the bodies were going, he just wanted the tests to stop. So the next night when they started the test—"

"He took the cooling components offline, didn't he?" I interrupted him.

David nodded, his expression clearly shocked. "How did you know that?"

"Because that's how I ended up here, except in my world, I was the cooling component. Chet shoved me into a wall and made sure I couldn't keep control of the temperature." I waved my hand at his confused look. "How I did it isn't important. You were telling me how things happened in this dimension. I assume the collider exploded?"

"No, just the particle generator. The test hadn't progressed far enough along for the collider to overheat. They replaced the generator within months, and the tests are still being conducted. The military found a security tape of Chet taking the cooling components down, and they gave it to the media, claiming that he was a religious zealot. They used some kind of computer program to make a fake video with Chet quoting scripture, but I knew it was a load of crap."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because Chet is a Taoist," David said, shaking his head. "He isn't responsible for any of the bombings the military claims he set up, so why are they still killing people in his name?"

"That should be obvious," I said. "If everyone thinks Chet is a loon, then they won't believe his 'crazy stories' about the military killing innocent people in a useless experiment."

"Maybe so, but I still don't understand the point of the experiments," Terry said. "If they know the bodies vanish, then why keep killing test subjects?"

"Possibly to find out where the bodies are going," I suggested. "If Chet is such a theoretical fellow, then he's probably got some ideas on why the experiments are still going on, and where the bodies end up. At any rate, I need to meet this world's Chet, since the one I'm traveling with is dumb as a post."

"Really?" Terry asked.

"He worked as a personal trainer for his day job in our world."

David guffawed and nodded, scratching his head. "Our Chet can most likely help you, but it's a two hour drive into the desert to his hidden compound. We should get going." He stood up and waved toward the door. "It is a long trip."

"We're going too," Terry announced, grabbing Katherine from my lap.

David shook his head. "Honey, it's not a good idea. If we get caught—"

"Then we'll get caught together," Terry said, and her firm tone of voice suggested that the matter wasn't up for discussion.

"I we get caught, I'll freeze whoever catches us." As I got up from the chair, I smiled at David. "It's nice to know that even in a parallel dimension, I'm still as hard headed as ever."

"You've got that right," David grumbled, wincing when Terry slapped his arm.

A Frosty Girl's Cure – Chapter 32

Two months blurred by with no word from my family. I didn't mind, having fallen into a comfortable pattern with my new family and friends. Twice a week, I "assisted" the instructors at the dojo, and spent most of the other weekdays hanging out at the mall with the girls and Kevin. In those two months, I learned a lot about Kevin's cheerleaders, as I was fond of calling their group. Each girl had a unique gift that set them apart, yet their differences complimented the whole.

Judy could write poetry so profound it changes your outlook on life. Those poems are a glimpse into her soul, and she won't give that to just anyone. Aside from her friends, only Steven and Kevin had been allowed to read them, and I felt honored to be included in the select group allowed to see her work, even if it was on the condition that I never repeat even one line for the rest of my life.

Darlene is a painter, and while she isn't quite as selective in who can view her work, no one can convince her that it belongs in art museums. Darlene told me that they can have her pictures when she's gone, that those painting will act as her memory when she gets too old to remember what being young was like

Becky is a dancer. She doesn't care what kind of music is playing, the girl just loves to move. I made the mistake of going dancing with her one Saturday night, and even with my healing factor, I still spent most of Sunday trying to rub cramps out of my calves.

And Rhonda is the best of all the girls. She can paint and write beautiful prose. She dances just as much as Becky, and she can spar better than any of her friends. What makes her different is a sense of modesty that's hard to describe, even after experiencing it on so many occasions.

One evening, I sat on Rhonda's porch, listening to her sing while her brother strummed a guitar. Her voice was so beautiful that I was brought to tears. But before I could say anything, Rhonda asked me not to bring up any notions of fame and fortune. I asked her why she wouldn't consider doing something she loved for money. She laughed, telling me, "Because prostitution is illegal in this state."

Ellen became the little sister I never had, while Amy held the post of the older sister. She didn't try to act like a mother to me, and she was fond of saying that she couldn't, that I already had a perfect mother who she could never replace.

It was Kevin that I was never sure about. At times, he acted like an older brother, even though we both knew I was older than him. At other times, he acted like my best friend. Finally, there were the times that he tried to act like a boyfriend, but those moments were rare. When he was acting like a boyfriend, he would remind me of David, and that invariably killed the moment. Not for me, of course. Kevin could sense when I was waxing nostalgic about my ex, and then he'd back off, going back to being a really great friend.

The routine we got into relaxed me so much that I stopped worrying about getting recognized. I had relaxed so much that when my black dye faded, I didn't bother replacing it. There seemed little point to keeping a disguise when everyone knew who I was. Although they all call me Kathy or Katherine, they did it as a courtesy to me.

The day started off like any other, except I had special plans for how it would end. I got into my usual cut-down contest with Chuck in the parking lot, and I'd delivered a particularly brutal cut when I ran into the principal. He went sprawling backward, and I groaned once I recognized who I'd knocked over.

"Oh, sir, I'm so sorry about that," I said rushing to help him up.

"I'm all right, Katherine," he insisted. "You didn't break anything, this time."

He dusted himself off and I gave him a sheepish grin before going inside.

Judy was waiting for me by my locker. "It's all set up," she said, speaking with a conspiratorial tone to match her sly grin.

"Judy, nothing is going to happen," I said.

"Oh sure, you've just spent the last week trying to get Kevin alone so you could talk to him, right?"

"That's it exactly," I said. "Ellen and Amy are always part of our conversations, and I'd like to find out how he feels about me without any distractions. This is the best chance I have, since Amy is going to some family tribunal, and Ellen is staying with you—"

"Something I'm dreading," Judy said, and then giggle-snorted. "She still hasn't tried anything with you?"

"Nope," I said, neglecting to mention that Ellen had slept with me every night since I moved into town. "I guess redheads don't do anything for her."

"Tell Cynthia Parks that," Judy said. "Ellen almost talked her into revealing whether she was a natural redhead before Cynthia realized who she was dealing with." Studying me, Judy shrugged. "Maybe she knows you and Kevin are an item."

"We aren't an item. At least, I don't think we are," I corrected myself as I shut my locker. "That's why I want to talk to him alone. The longer I live with him, the more I wonder what we are to each other."

Judy nodded, patting my shoulder. "As for me, I'm hoping the two of you two get together. At the very least, you'd make a good couple at the prom. Good luck."

I watched her duck into her class and called after her, "Thanks."

The day sped by, mainly because I refused to look at any clocks. By the last class though, I felt like a nervous wreck.

I drove to the liquor store, smiling at Joel as he looked up from his computer. "I'd like something cheap and common, preferably without buying something for your car."

The old cop shrugged. "I'd like to take my car racing this Saturday, but I can't afford the entry fee. Maybe you could help an old friend out?"

I drummed my fingers on the counter. "How much is it?"

"Three hundred dollars," Joel replied, nodding when I dropped it on the counter. "You're too kind."

"Yeah, don't mention it, to anyone," I quipped. Waiting out his amused chuckle, I asked, "How did you afford a Lamborghini when you can't even manage three hundred dollars for one race?"

"A while back, we had a super villain hiding out in town. I pegged him when he came in here and ordered a dozen rare liquors from a catalog. So he bribed me and the rest of the guys to keep quiet. He said, 'name any car, and I'll give it to you.' The other guys all went for Corvettes. I had to be an idiot and buy foreign."

"Still, there is the babe factor involved with owning an Italian car," I said.

"If you say so. My wife is always complaining about it. 'Joel, a Corvette would at least have enough trunk space to put groceries in," he whined in a high falsetto before shrugging. "I'm not seeing any extra sex from her, either. Anyway, what can I get my best customer?"

"Wine coolers, all different flavors. I'm slumming out tonight. I'll be ordering pizza, perhaps even renting a B movie."

"So who's the lucky fella?" Joel asked as he set up a four pack of wine coolers for me.

"Who said I was having anyone over?" I remarked evasively.

"I know I don't look the part, but I am a cop, dear. You're choosing wine coolers so you don't get too drunk, and pizza with a movie is a prelude to an evening alone with someone."

"Impressive. All right, you busted me. I'm still not telling you who I'm seeing. If this plan bombs, I don't want anybody asking me about it, especially not you."

I ordered a supreme pizza on my cell phone while I picked out a cheesy horror flick at the video store. I picked up the pizza and drove home, finding a note from Kevin explaining that he was dropping Ellen off at Judy's.

He signed it, Love? Kevin.

Smiling, I got the movie set up and went to my room to change clothes. I walked into the living room right as Kevin came through the front door carrying a bouquet of red roses.

"Those might be a bit much. We're only having pizza and wine coolers at home," I said.

Kevin shrugged, his eyes changing from brown to green. Only later would I recognize the shift was his body reacting to me, bringing his mind in phase with mine.

Kevin said, "Judy thought you might want some roses, and they weren't all that expensive."

Smiling at his nervous explanation, I took the roses and set them on the dining room table before taking Kevin's hand. Leading him to the living room, I sat down with him on the couch and started the movie. I opened the pizza box, and our attention became diverted.

We didn't watch the movie beyond the point that we finished eating. We simply sat together on the couch and stared at each other, smiling faintly now and again. I still needed to polish off my two wine coolers to fortify my courage.

Finally, I couldn't stand the suspense anymore. "Kevin, what are we? Are we just friends?"

"If that's what you want," Kevin answered.

I sighed. "Can't you read my thoughts?"

"When it comes to me, your thoughts are all jumbled. One second you're certain that you love me, and the next you feel glad that I haven't tried anything with you. You're a mystery to me, and I'm a mind reader." Kevin laughed, but the sound was more frustrated than amused. "Do you know how weird that is for me?"

I leaned closer to him, looking into his beautiful green eyes. "What if I said that I do want you to try something?"

"I don't know. What if it ruins our friendship?" Kevin asked, his voice softer and full of nervous tension.

"I guess what I want to know is if you love me," I said.

"I do," Kevin answered without hesitation.

"Would you kiss me then?"

"I guess it's okay," Kevin said in a shaky voice. "Friends can kiss, right?"

I leaned forward and closed my eyes, feeling his lips timidly brush mine. It didn't take long for him to warm up to me, pun most certainly intended.

Now I've been kissed a few times, and I know what I like. Kevin could read me and know just the right way to nip at my lips. He knew when to back off and give me a moment to recover, and then he moved in again. When he grew bolder and slipped his tongue between my lips, I started panting. Then he did too. Every kiss after that spoke volumes of his excitement, of his need for me.

I was about to suggest that friends could also cuddle naked on their couch when he stopped altogether, breaking our kiss without a word.

"Tommy was right about you," Morgan said, his voice full of snide derision. "You are a slut."

I was up and off the couch in an instant, but my gaze didn't go to Morgan. It went to the people behind him. Though they were both wearing disguises, I recognized Sarah and Greg. They were unconscious, held around their upper bodies by Dustin and Vera, and both chomps held pistols at their necks.

I said, "Damn you—"

"I could have found you at any time using your nanites," Morgan said. "It was finding these two that was the trick. I had hell trying to match up their physical characteristics when they were intentionally altering their appearance." Folding his arms, Morgan chuckled. "But now I've got them, so by rights, I've got you too."

I looked back to see that Kevin had been tranqed, a dart jutting from the side of his neck. Looking back to Morgan, I narrowed my eyes as my hands tensed into tight fists.

"I doubt you'll try anything stupid, Terry," Morgan said, and then sneered. "Not when I can kill your family in with ease. All of them, even your new fake family."

"Fine, I'll agree to power your damned gun, but first, you have to agree to something for me," I said, walking toward him slowly.

"You're hardly in a position to—" He was cut off when I punched him hard in the side of his head.

I said, "All you have to do is agree that you had that coming, you son of a bitch."

Morgan smiled. "Good night, Terry." He said and took a remote out of his pocket.

He pressed a button on it, and suddenly I couldn't breathe. The world became grey, and I sank to my knees, clawing at my neck as the pain became steadily worse. This wasn't necessary. Morgan had the only people he needed to force me into giving up, yet he was still making me suffer what had to be the third worst death I've ever had.

When I woke up, I had two nasty discoveries. The first was made when my eyes were still closed, and I was aware only of a feeling of intense pain, like my body had been crushed. I opened my eyes and discovered that I hadn't been crushed, just reshuffled. My second discovery was that I was in a child's body again. I went to a mirror, tripping over my oversized clothing.

Slipping out of them was easy when the neck of my shirt fit around my entire body. Looking down at my body, and then up at the mirror, I started to cry. Sinking to my knees atop the bundle of clothes that would never fit me again, I wailed miserably at the eight-year-old crying back at me from the mirror.

"That," Morgan said over the intercom, "is for hitting me. I'll bet your precious family wouldn't find you so desirable now. Then again, maybe you can find a pervert who goes for that kind of thing."

"Go to hell," I growled. Well squeaked, actually.

"We'll both pay it a visit once I've created it," Morgan said.

The room filled with cyanide gas, and I went out fast.

 

"Terry?" a familiar voice called. I groaned and made a grimacing expression. "Terry?" they called again, whispering from somewhere on my left.

I opened my eyes to find myself inside the cooling chamber. Opening my mouth to speak, I instead coughed a plume of yellow smoke. I looked around.

"Who's there?" I asked.

"It's me, Chet. Duggan had me come back here with a stealth suit to wait for you. He said it would be pointless for you to escape when Morgan would simply track you using your nanites. I was sent to kill you."

"So do it already," I said.

"Terry, begin cooling the room down now," Morgan ordered over the intercom.

"Do as he says," Chet whispered. "I came up with a plan while you were gone."

Nodding, I began to lower the temperature in the room. The sounds of machinery were coming to life all around me as the room got colder. With those machines quickly growing warm, I had to strain to keep the air temperature sinking instead of rising.

"On the wall in front of you is a display of the current temperature." Morgan explained. "I want you to maintain the temperature at thirty degrees below zero, Celsius. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I said.

The machinery around me blurred from several distinct sounds into one long whine. Now I was pumping out so much cold that my skin frosted over with thousands of ice diamonds.

I looked around, wondering when Chet was going to set his plan in motion when he shoved me hard from behind. I flew forward and slammed into the wall, breaking my jaw on the temperature display. Well, actually, my jaw was a moot point, since the force of Chet's shove had broken just about every bone in my body.

I lost control of the temperature and heard something crackle with a static electricity discharge. I tried to ask Chet what good hurting me would do, but instead I coughed up a mouthful of blood.

"It was the only way to be sure," Chet said, standing over me. "By destroying the platform and Morgan as well as you, there's no way for the plan to be revived. I'm sorry, Terry."

"No…Chet, you idiot," I rasped weakly. "Sarah and Greg are here. You're killing my fami—"

And then the platform exploded.

New Other Sides Updates…

First let me apologize for not updating sooner. Loots of stuff has been going on with the other Other Sides authors, but I've been distracted by NaNoWriMo and haven't put up a  proper list of links yet. To start off, there is a good review of Other Sides in Violin in a void. They mentioned my story as one they really liked, so woohoo, and I'm glad they enjoyed the collection.

Next, the ladies writing The Peacock King sat down to do an interview. Check out Charissa Cotrill and Erica Bercegeay on Gabriel Gadfly, talking about Other Sides and Peacock King. And then Erica has another interview on One Big Adventure.

Next is another interview, this time with Isa K. for Just Cassie. She talks about her story in Other Sides, and about her current work projects.

Next is an interview with the authors of Addegoole and Wild Ones' Blood. Lyn Thorne-Alder & Chris Childs head over to Flashes in the Dark to talk about writing with Lori Titus.

And finally, MCM of 1889.ca has a slightly facetious explanation for the development of Other Sides in the guest post on Novelr.

And that's the round-up of Other Sides news. Other Sides is of course still available for free from Ergofiction, and you can also find a print copy for $6, or you can buy and e-book copy for $0.99 cents if you'd like to lend your support to the WebLit cause. I'd like to thank those of you who've already read and reviewed the book. It looks like we've already made some converts of people who had never heard of WebLit, and are now getting into the medium after digging through our sampler. Eeeeexcellent! Soon, our plan to get enough readers to earn money and buy video games will be complete! (What? You didn't think any of us were aiming for taking over the world, did you?)

A Frosty Girl's Cure – Chapter 31

The dojo that Kevin and his friends attended was like many American fighting schools, meaning there were mirrors on all the walls and a padded blue nylon mat on the floor. Every few feet, a support pillar broke up the monotony of the mirrors, and various martial arts movie stars posed kicking high and look totally bad ass doing it.

Before the lead instructor's voice drew me from my bored inspection of my surroundings, I was admiring a particularly old image of a hairy Chuck Morris from his work with Bruce Yi in First of the Dragon…Or, maybe it was Foot of the Dragon.

"Class, we have a guest today," the lead instructor said.

I looked at Kevin, but he shook his head and pointed at Judy, who gave me a bright smile and two thumbs up. Briefly, I considered a potential place to put both of them, which would have removed the smile from her face, at least.

But my dire thoughts were disturbed by the instructor. "Katherine, why don't you join me at the front of the class for a moment?" the instructor asked.

Cursing under my breath, I walked to the front. I put on a fake smile as I offered my hand to the instructor. "Hi, nice to meet you."

"Judy tells me that you have a unique fighting style."

"It's a mixed art, not really a style. My father took what worked for him and distilled it into a set of lessons for me."

"I was hoping you might be willing to provide our class with a demonstration."

"Oh no, I couldn't, really," I said.

"Afraid of a little competition?" the instructor teased.

"No, I'm afraid of hurting one of your students," I replied.

The instructor regarded me with a narrow-eyed skepticism that set my teeth on edge. "You feel you're that good?"

Judy raised her hand. "Sensei, she won a twelve-on-one fight yesterday."

"Actually, that was supposed to be a twenty-on-one fight," I said, gesturing to Kevin. "But Kevin pulled eight onto him in a separate pile. Before lunch the same day, I also won a thirteen-on-one fight."

The instructor looked at me as though I were crazy. "That's impossible."

I smirked, crossing my arms. "Tell that to my principal. If you can convince him that he didn't really pull me off those jocks, then maybe we can pretend it never happened."

"Well, maybe you could demonstrate some of your techniques with me."

"That wouldn't be a good idea either, since you have a class to teach," I hinted.

The instructor smiled. "I've got two other trainers if you somehow manage to beat me up."

"Fine, we'll spar a little," I said and began rolling my arms to stretch and loosen up. "It's your hospital bill."

The instructor got into a ridiculously wide-legged stance. "You aren't getting into stance?"

"This is it," I said. "Setting up like that only alerts someone of your weak points."

The instructor nodded before lunging forward to throw a punch. He volleyed off a dozen others behind it, none of which connected. Rather than bother with blocking his punches, I moved slightly from side to side to dodge his jabs. He let his frustration show at how easily I was dodging him by growling as he slung a sloppy snap kick.

Stepping aside, I raised my leg and drove my knee into the hamstring of his thigh at the same instant that I dropped the point of my elbow into his quadriceps, giving it just enough force to let him know that I was serious.

Yelping in pain, the instructor limped back into his stance and tried the same series of punches. They were even easier to dodge since he was moving slower. Finally, the instructor stepped back to pant from all his exertion, looking at me with a livid expression.

"Why won't you attack?" he asked.

"Sir, I am trained in disabling opponents by dismantling them," I answered in what I hoped would be seen as a truthful way. "Most of the openings you presented called for responses that would hurt you too badly for my conscience to bear."

"Okay, you have my word that I won't sue you or anything like that, but—"

"I'm not worried about a lawsuit," I said, cutting him off. "I was hoping I could convince you to quit before you get—"

"Oh, being a quitter already?" While I sputtered angrily, the instructor dove at me.

He swung with his right, but halfway toward me, it was obvious that he was going to switch to his left for a jab. Sure enough, the jab came in, and I bent back, letting his arm go over me. He couldn't pull back by then because his weight was overextended into his punch. I continued to arch back, planting my hands on the mat. Then I kicked the instructor's elbow as I swung my legs up, cracking the joint.

As soon as I was on my feet, I saw an opening on the instructor's right side as he nursed his injured arm. Spinning, I drove my heel into his chest and cracked a few of his ribs. I wasn't quite sure how many, though. I do know it made him back up to get out of my range.

"Is that what you had in mind?" I asked, groaning when he hobbled pathetically back into his stance. "Please, just quit now. You're hurt bad enough—"

I stopped as he came at me with a short right jab, deciding that I'd had enough even if he hadn't. Slapping aside his jab with my left hand, I hammered out my right fist and struck the point of his chin with my middle knuckle. The instructor dropped, his eyes rolling back in his head as he collapsed in a crumpled heap on the floor.

Muttering a much louder slew of curses about some pricks being too overconfident, I sat down to a round of light applause.

One of the assistant instructors unceremoniously dragged the lead instructor's prone form off the padded mat while the other covered his mouth, trying hard not to laugh. "So class, I suppose the lesson here is that you should never overestimate your own abilities." He snickered, but got in control of himself quickly. "I'm not sure who said it, but a wise old man once said that there is always a bigger man than you."

"Tao Sheng," I said.

The assistant blinked at me and smiled, nodding his head. "Yeah, the founder of Sheng Tai Chi. Class. Class, we might have a true martial arts master in our midst today." He saw his sensei coming to and wiped the smile from his face. "Okay, let's begin with calisthenics."

The class went through warm-up exercises, and then practiced a set of katas that made me cringe. I said nothing, though some of the assistants directions to the students did make me sigh.

For the final part of the class, the students partnered and began sparring. I looked at Kevin and sighed, standing up and stepping between him and his sparring partner.

"Look, would you mind if I showed you both something?" I asked. "Kevin, get into your stance."

"Like this?" Kevin asked, cringing when he read my thoughts.

"How often do you get hit with attacks to your ribs?" I remarked, nodding when he lowered his left arm far enough to defend his chest. "That's much better."

"That's not what we teach here," the instructor said from where he sat on the floor.

"No, you're apparently teaching these kids how to get their asses kicked. None of them are protecting their ribs. I could wipe out your whole class on that fact alone."

The instructor bristled. "Is that so?"

"I meant to ask you something earlier, but you were knocked out," I said, resisting the urge to smile when his face went crimson. "But did I break two of your ribs with that kick, or was it three?"

"Three," he mumbled.

"Yeah, it felt like three, but I wasn't sure about that last one. Anyway, beyond their problems above the waist, your 'style' also sets their legs in too wide a stance. They almost have to leap at an opponent to throw a punch, telegraphing their intentions well before they reach their target. And if their opponent catches them overextending like I caught you, good night Gracie, fight's over."

I heard someone snigger, but when I looked around to see who it was, every face was slack.

I returned my attention to the sulking instructor. "Certainly, all of them would win fights against untrained opponents, but in this day, even muggers are trained in basic self-defense."

Sighing at his sullen expression, I turned to one of his assistants. "Do you have any sparring pads? I mean for the body and head too."

"Sure, in the back," the assistant confirmed and jogged away to fetch them.

"The pads will be for me. For this demonstration, I'll need four or five volunteers." I looked around and smiled when not one hand went up. "How about if I tie one hand behind my back?" I quipped.

Nope. Nobody even wanted to play pretend fighting with me.

Sighing, I smirked at the other assistant. "Could you point out your best students?"

"You mean the least likely to be chickens," he said.

Once I drafted enough students, I put on the pads, looking at the six students as they eyed me warily. "Here's what we'll do. I'll tap you lightly, but once I do, you have to back off for a count of five. That may seem like a short time, but it's about how long it would take you to recover if I hit you for real. You on the other hand, shouldn't worry about pulling your punches or kicks. Under these pads, I won't feel a thing. Take places around me." I glanced around and nodded. "Good, now, let's begin."

Immediately, I rolled my shoulder and leaned my head to the side as a boy behind me leapt in to throw a punch. His feet coming off the mat and then landing were louder then the others stepping forward for their attacks. I caught his forearm, resisting the urge to pull down and break his elbow over my shoulder. Instead I hip tossed him, using his falling body to shield my left side.

On my right, another boy tried to punch me in the ribs. I swept his attack away with my forearm, and then backhanded him in the side of his head with the same arm. I followed through on the swing and spun, using my momentum to plant a spin kick under the armpit of the girl who had just leapt in behind me for another attempt at a sneak attack. Once I set both feet on the mat, I turned to see two of the boys coming at me to try a dual attack. I stepped between them and clotheslined both with chops to their unprotected throats. Even with the light blow, both guys made surprised coughs.

Pushing them away, I spun to look at the only student standing. She smiled, holding up her hands. "If this was a real fight, I wouldn't be dumb enough to go near you after watching you kick all my friend's asses in…" She trailed off, looking to the instructor.

But he was still gawking at me like I was Super Ninja or something. Which is funny, cause Super Ninja can totally kick my ass.

But I don't like to talk about that, so let's move on.

"Seven seconds," the assistant answered instead, ignoring the glower he got from his sensei.

"Of course, if this had been a real fight, all these kids would need stretchers." The class laughed, and I continued talking while I pulled off the pads. "My point is that all of you should take some time tonight in front of a mirror. Get into your stance, and ask yourself what parts you're exposing. From there, consider how you could best defend yourself from an attack directed at your weak points. And look at your leg stance and bring it more in line with the width of your shoulders. Some of you guys look like you're begging for a kick in the nuts."

Several of the guys groaned, and I huffed a laugh. "By your next class, I wouldn't expect that any of you will have matching stances, but I guarantee you'll have more success in blocking attacks. If nothing else, your sparring session in the next class will be filled with surprises."

"Will you be coming to our next class?" one girl asked. I rather liked the hopeful tone of her voice.

I laughed at the following chorus of murmured agreements. "Eh, call it a hunch, but I believe I've worn out my welcome."

The lead instructor shook his head, uttering a weak laugh. "I've just had a rough time swallowing such a large serving of humble pie. If you come back next week, I'll be sitting in on your class."

"Technically, you'd be sitting anyway," I remarked, walking off the mat to slip my shoes back on. "Ribs take a little while to heal."

I waited until we got out to Judy's car before I glared at her.

"What?" she asked, batting her eyes with innocent sweetness.

"What do you mean, what? Do you want everyone in town to know who I am?"

"No, I wanted you to humiliate our sensei for all the times that he's sucker punched me." Her expression becoming sour, Judy grumbled, "After watching you, I almost think he taught us that stance so he could finally beat up someone smaller than him."

I sighed. "Look, just try to be—"

"You should have seen the look on his face when you did that flip kick!" Rhonda gushed. "And I mean before it even connected. He was like 'Duh, where she go?'" Her Goofy impression needed work, but her chipmunk laughter was spot on. Then I realized that was how she normally laughed and kind of lost it myself.

Rhonda finished, "He never saw that kick coming, not in a million years!"

"Yeah, and he was practically kissing her butt after she beat his best students in under ten seconds!" Darlene added with a giggle.

"Please tell me you're coming to our next class," Judy pleaded.

I looked from her to Kevin and sighed, nodding, and then cringing to the loud, loud chorus of elated squeals.

"Oh she's small and she's mean, and she'll kick in your spleen!" Judy sang in a twangy voice, and then pointed to Darlene.

"And that's without messing her hair. She's got grace and charm, while busting up arms," Darlene sang before nodding to Rhonda.

"Don't bother whining cause she doesn't care," Rhonda sang. "And we all heard his cries, saw the fear in his eyes, as sensei got a helping of pain."

"Yes, she kicked his ass before she stole his class, and we never heard him complain," Becky sang before all four girls began to sing in near perfect time. Becky was leading by a quarter of a second, and the others picked up on her cues fast:

 

Cause he got beat by a little girl!

With a mean flip kick, she rocked his world!

No she don't play. We hope he'll be okay.

When she kicked his ribs, he looked ready to hurl.

He got his left arm broke by a dainty pearl!

Oh, sensei got beat, by a little girl!

 

"That was great," I said and laughed.

Judy waved her hand dismissively. "Aw shucks, t'weren't nuthin' special," she drawled.

"No, I'm serious," I insisted. "You four could form some kind of country super quartet and make a killing."

"We don't need to," Darlene said.

"Yeah, why leave home for half a year every year just to be famous?" Rhonda shrugged. "Seems kind of pointless to me."

Judy nodded, smiling at me. "Big city life has probably scrambled your brains on what's really important."

"Really. Okay, so what do you think is important?" I asked.

"Life can throw all kinds of distractions to confuse you, but all you really need is a roof over your head, food on the table, and someone to love," Judy said, her expression whimsical and yet quite serious at the same time. "After that, everything else is all happy trees and fluffy white clouds."

I looked around, watching everyone nod, and I smiled. "If I can ever learn to leave the men alone, I think I'm going to like living here."

"So where am I dropping you off, Katherine?" Judy asked.

"Oh, I—uh" I sputtered.

"She's living with us," Kevin said.

Judy looked at me, a wicked grin splitting her lips quickly. "You little lying bitch. I knew it!"

"What?" Kevin asked.

I glared at him, since he quite obviously knew what already.

"Kevin finally found a girl he likes?" Darlene squealed. She hugged Kevin tight, clambering over two of her friends to do it. "Oh, our baby is finally growing up!"

I sighed. "Fine, whatever."

"Sure, be like that because I was right all along. You know it too, and you're just playing little miss innocent," Judy insisted. "I can't believe you. You could have at least admitted that you were moving into Kevin's house, couldn't you?"

"Ladies, be nice. I'll let all of you come in if you'll quit picking on Katherine." Kevin said in a diplomatic way.

"Oh my…" Darlene trailed off, looking around at the other girls. All of them were as stunned as her. "Kevin, you mean that?"

Kevin began blushing, and he rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, and I should have let you come over a long time ago. You're all my friends, and you let me in on your group without any complaints."

"Sweetie, that's because you're a certifiable hunk, and you're charming," Darlene said and laughed. "Only an idiot wouldn't want you hanging around. No, I'll correct myself. Only a blind and deaf idiot. Any other girl would want you in a heartbeat."

"So how is Katherine different?" Rhonda asked.

"Um…" Kevin looked at me, and his cheeks were rosy. "I guess she and I have a lot in common, that's all."

"That's all," Darlene teased him gently. "If that's all, then why do you look like you've got a sunburn?"

"Okay, obviously she's pretty," Becky said. "I'll give her that. She handles herself well in fights, and she's probably smart too." She grinned at me, even as she tried to fake a look of dismay. "Girls, what we've got here is the worst disaster that could ever befall our gang, and I'll bet she thinks she and Kevin are just good friends."

I shook my head. "No, we are more than just friends." I said, smiling at Kevin. "We're family now."

As we pulled to the curb of Kevin's house, Judy turned in the driver's seat and slid her palm over my cheek, smiling at me warmly. "See, was that so hard?"

I smiled back at. "No, I guess not."

The girls left the house about two hours later. Each one had to tell her own variation on how my fight with the instructor went, and Amy insisted that they sing their made up song about the fight. As soon as they had left, Ellen once again hopped into my lap.

"The cheerleaders like you well enough," she observed. Then she gasped, slapping my arm. "Honestly, can't you go five minutes without thinking something dirty?"

"I could if Sarah and Greg were here," I muttered.

"Hey, I was only teasing you," Ellen said. "Try to remember that absence makes the heart grow fonder."

"I want to, but all absence is doing for me is carving a hole in my chest. Well, that and I'm constantly feeling frisky. I swear, the next time I see them—" I said, stopping as Amy gasped.

I looked over to find her gaping in shock, a blush rising on her cheeks. "My goodness," she muttered.

Kevin nodded, his cheeks just as dark as his mother's. "On that thought, I'm off to take a very cold shower," he said before leaving the room quickly.

Amy got up a moment later, fanning herself with her hand. "I'm afraid I'll need to do the same." She laughed, a sound of wicked mirth. "It's a good thing we have two bathrooms, or else my son would need to make room for me."

I looked to Ellen, who gave me a weak smile. "It wasn't that bad, was it?" I asked, feeling a little ashamed of myself.

"No, it wasn't really bad, just, um…more arousing than we're used to."

"Then why aren't you running off?" I asked.

"Because we've only got two bathrooms, remember?"

"I'm sure neither Amy or Kevin wouldn't mind—"

"Please, don't tempt me," Ellen cut me off.

I started to make another joke before I realized she was serious. "Um…you might not have this problem if you'd stop reading my thoughts."

"Terry, this isn't a switch that we can just flip on or off as we please. Once our powers manifest, we see everyone's thoughts all the time, whether we want to or not. Some of us can turn down our range, like Amy. But Kevin and I can't. Or, we can't yet."

"It sounds awful," I said.

"It…it take getting used to." Ellen sighed. "You have no idea all the things I've seen in people's heads, even here in this tiny town. We don't even get the benefit of a normal childhood because we're shown the minds of the adults around us, usually at a very early age. Kevin's powers power kicked in when he was ten, and he's considered a late bloomer. I am too." Ellen looking down at her hands. "I got my powers at nine, and the first thing I learned was that my mother was hiding the fact that she was dying from me."

"I'm sorry," I muttered. "I mean, I'm sorry that you have to hide like this."

"Don't be. Kevin and I are trying to act normal for as long as we can. My dad thinks it's cute how even though we're not kids anymore, we still try to play our parts around the humans. Kevin is better at it than me, but then I got tired of hanging out with little kids who rambled on about cooties when I already knew what real life would be like. So I went to high school and tried to act more mature…"

Ellen swallowed hard. "But all the others saw me as just stupid little kid anyway, so growing up early just made things harder, not easier."

"Do you live here, or with your dad?" I asked.

Ellen sighed. "I bounce back and forth. Sometimes, being around my dad is too hard. He starts thinking about my mom, and it puts him into a depression so deep that it affects me. I end up living here most of the time, but then I upset Kevin by getting too close, and so I have to go home or risk what I've got with him. I want to live here, because the things my dad thinks hurt so bad."

I looked up as Amy walked back into the room, still tucking her hair into a bath towel. She smiled at me, shaking her head. "Would you mind warning me before you try thinking something like that again?"

She looked from me to Ellen, her smile fading. "Confession time?"

"She considers herself part of the family, so it's only fair," Ellen said.

"This is the things I'm not supposed to know, isn't it?" I asked in a quiet voice.

"Terry, by the laws of our family, we aren't supposed to reveal our powers to anyone, not for any reason." Ellen said. "We also aren't supposed to talk about our family vine. It isn't just that were in-breeders. We're preserving our race and hiding ourselves from the human in plain site."

"So what are you?"

"Halflings," Ellen said.

I asked, "Shouldn't you be shorter?"

Ellen shook her head, returning my smirk. "No, you're thinking of Hobbits. They're a completely different race."

"Wow, and that's your big secret? You' not just mutants, but a separate race."

"Yes, one almost hunted to extinction because of our powers," Ellen said.

"There's something else you should know," Amy said. "Kevin isn't really my son. I mean he's not a biological son, anyway. He just got around to calling me mom a few months ago. Before that, he called me Amy. I didn't mind, but you can't imagine how good it felt to hear…or, yeah, I guess you could." Amy laughed at my annoyed huff. "Sorry."

She looked at Kevin as he came into the living room, then returned her attention to me. "As Ellen told you, males are partnered with females to preserve our race. Couples are paired based on similar strengths and powers. Ellen and Kevin are the two most powerful children of their generation, and the extent of their abilities was foretold in Scott's dreams before the children were born.

"Partners telepathically bond at an early age, and the strength of that bond develops over time until it can span great distances. When that bond is broken, it can destroy the remaining partner. Scott and my sister Rene were partnered from the time she was three, and he was five. They'd spend most of their lives together, so when Scott died, Rene took her own life."

Amy looked from me to Ellen. "That's why Ellen lives here most of the time. She reminds Stewart of his partner Janice so much that it drives him to consider taking his own life. That's why Kevin won't let Ellen near him long enough to develop a bond."

"Mom—" Kevin muttered.

"Hush up. You know what I'm saying is the truth." Amy pouted at him until he nodded. "Kevin is afraid that if he opens his mind to her, fate will take her away. It's why he won't trust anyone, because he's already lost so much. Ellen won't force the issue, because she's just as afraid of losing Kevin as he is of losing her."

She sighed, regarding both of her kids with a fond yet sad expression. "I can't blame them for how they feel. When I lost Jonathan, I felt so hollow, like a part of my mind had been taken from me. He was killed while trying to put out a fire in a warehouse. I had just sent him a warning to be careful when he vanished from my thoughts. It's been ten years, and some nights, I still wake up and swear he's…"

Drawing a shaking breath, Amy wiped her eyes and forced a smile for my sake. "Like us, fate keeps stealing your loved ones from you, and you feel constant guilt over it. Kevin was drawn to you by those feelings of loss and guilt. There is so much pain in your heart for the things you've lost, but even so, you never give up hope. You believe there will come a time when you find a cure, and then life will get better. You have those fantasies of your family in Idaho to keep you going, even if some of them could make a sailor blush."

Amy laughed at my rising blush, but her smile softened as she gestured at her son. "We need that sense of hope. Truth be told, we need you far more than you need us."

I nodded, and we all fell silent. Nothing further needed to be said, because I finally understood. They were all just like me, hiding from love to keep themselves from being hurt. So even though I hadn't known them long, I chose to open my heart to them.

But Amy was wrong on one thing. I needed them far more than they needed me.

Ellen didn't wait until I was asleep before climbing into bed, and I didn't offer any protest. I closed my arms around her and smiled as she laid her head on my chest.

I closed my eyes and thought how odd my life had become after I retired from being a superhero. I had moved to Podunk to get away from my old family, away from my old life. I'd fled to keep them safe, but no justification could close the tear in my heart over losing my loved ones. Yet I hadn't been in town less than a day and I'd already found a new family, one whose love filled the void formed by my guilt.

Randomly, I began to wonder what I would say to my biological mother and father once I got the chance to see them again. It had been a long time since I had felt any true anger for either of them, but I didn't know if I wanted to include them in my new life.

Ellen snuggled against me, murmuring in her sleep, and I began to stroke the back of her neck. I fell asleep some time later, and Ellen was waiting for me in my dreams, this time taking the form of an angel. I thought it was cute, even if the nature of our dream didn't quite fit the image.

The Pedophile book…

I should be in bed, but instead I'm wide awake and feeling extremely agitated. Why? The Pedophiles' Guide to Sex and Pleasure, that's why. I'm not upset so much about the book itself as I am by the reactions that all of kinds of intelligent, rational people made to it. I'm frustrated even more that I am writing a defense of discussions on this particular topic, mainly because the book is so shoddily written. Even reading the description and spotting the obvious typos, my first thought was, "That schmuck needs an editor in the worst way." For the moment setting aside the actual content of the book, I want talk about how people reacted to this bombshell with the dreaded P word in the name. Bear in mind that I'm speaking as somebody who was a victim and a perpetrator of the cycle, and who is an author of fiction with controversial topics.

At the top of my list of objections to this moral outrage is for the blankets statement, "All child porn is illegal!" But if it was always a crime to depict minors having sex in text, Stephen King would not have IT on shelves. He would have gone to prison right after his publisher turned him in for writing the underground orgy. And yet, before the Internet boomed, I was able to obtain a copy of IT at twelve from a public library. (I mean I loaned it out directly too, so they knew who was going to read it.) Actually, you can even blame King for the same kind of controversial content in my stories. After I read IT, I said, "I want to write something just like that!" Even so, I never expected an apology from King for "enabling me."

You can also add Anne Rice and Piers Anthony to the list of authors who have published stories with underage characters having sex. Piers has the record among the three for writing an explicit scene with a five-year-old girl and a child molester. Nobody is calling for Firefly to be pulled from Amazon, and no one is calling for Piers to be arrested. (Though I have heard and read some pretty dirty things said about the man in "polite company") But people are calling for the arrest of this guy over his ill-formed abstract opinion because this time, "it's a really, really bad book!" Trust me, Piers' book was really, really bad. So if you're going to ban one book, you might as well ban the other, and for the same reason that it might inspire a normal person to commit a crime.

[image error]Some of you have said, "But that's fiction. This is different because it's non-fiction." No, not as long as it's still just an abstract discussion. Yes, I know it irks you that so many freaks are thinking about your kids, but telling them not to talk about it online doesn't mean they stop doing it. It just means that you no longer have a clear idea of who NOT to hire as an emergency sitter. You let your governments develop the biggest behavioral tracking database in our solar system (try to find something more impressive on Mars) and yet you keep telling the predators not to register themselves publicly online? Why? Do you prefer if they meet your kids by cell phone?

I'm not morally opposed to you tracking self-professed sexual predators online either. If they're willing to make it public information, who's to say the government doesn't have the right to hold on to that information for a later date? And further, once said person does cross a line in a chat room or even worse, in person, couldn't that online evidence then be used to show intent? Why yes, I believe that as far as the network is structured now, this would be a great way of catching active predators. Pity, every time these people start up a not-so-private club online, you go and shut it down before many people can register and expose themselves. Do you really think your straight son is going to get on the Internet one night because he's suddenly in the mood to check out NAMBLA? No? Not likely? But damn, wouldn't it be easy for Uncle Sam to keep tabs on these guys if they just had their own Facebook? The predators can call it whatever they like, but when one of them actually commits a crime, the cops can call it Mugbook.

The second thing sticking in my craw is people trotting out the "Fire in a movie theater" defense. That is, this man is committing a crime by stirring a ruckus. Nice, but this guy wasn't exactly mass marketing his book before you showed up. However many of you blogged on this book, mass marketing to have it taken down as a a menace to all of society. By shouting over and over that a crime was committed, you've become the ones shouting child rape in a crowded Amazon. But of course, despite the potential for lost revenue on Amazon's part, no one will punish you. In fact, you can make Amazon take down just about any product using the same tactic. They have a historical precedent for caving in on every policy decision they've made over the last two years. Go ahead, find another pedophile book and take a whack at it. They'll cave on that one too. But by raising a stink like this, you're the one constantly shouting rape in a virtual business where no actual rape can ever take place.

My third problem is the biggest, because I see people saying, "Oh, this isn't about censorship at all. But the person who wrote this should be arrested and sent away." Okay, I'll go along with the concept that boycotting the book out of commercial and public distribution is not necessarily censorship, but how is it not censorship when you're willing to arrest a guy for saying, "I think pedophiles should adopt a certian (his word, not mine) code of ethics and, like, not be so rampantly evil"? The book is supposedly about setting up a dialogue with the kids so that they understand what's going on, and have a chance to back out and say no. While I think that's EXTREMELY misguided, (meaning, I think it's a Bad Idea) it is just one guy's opinion on a sensitive topic. Being that he himself was a part of the cycle, I believe he meant this as a genuine effort at helping further a discussion that no one else wants to have. (Even if the topic really, really needs to be brought out of the dark.)

Hell, it's not even a radical opinion he's espousing. Wouldn't it be great if pedophiles WERE ethical and admitted what they wanted instead of, say, working secretly for the Boy Scouts of America? Or for Toy R' Us? Or at bible schools? Or in public school districts as teachers? This doesn't even cover the uncles, cousins of various ages, or the babysitters, none of whom have any intentions of behaving ethically whether this book was on Amazon's shelves or not. The real predators don't need a book advising them how to rape kids.

But if you think I'm wrong, you need to keep working over Amazon for their other inappropriate titles. Because there are other books still on their site with the exact same content. Don't stop boycotting and pat yourselves on the back just because you got rid of one objectionable voice from the supply chain. You should start actively searching Amazon using the word pedophile. Make it your daily word witch hunt. Amazon does not have great editing standards in selecting products, so the price of your relative "online safety" is eternal paranoia. Force them to stop selling everything you object to, and you will successfully ensure that the problem with sex predators…remains underground where you can't trace it. You aren't accomplishing a thing with this global shaming campaign for one book. You just convince more active predators to keep quiet rather than come forward and seek help.

And frankly, who would want to seek help from a school of piranha thirsting for the chance to devour them and shit them into a cell for a lifetime of prison rape and experimental drugs? Woohoo, no humans right violations there! But after all, it's not like they're former sex abuse victims being forced into legalized rape fantasies for the moral majority to feel good about. No! They're the worlds' only "real vampire," the only monster which polite society cannot rationally discuss without freaking right the fuck out and overreacting.

I'm the crazy one. I hear voices and admit it. So I shouldn't have to be telling sane people to calm down. And I sure as hell shouldn't have to say it on this topic. Hell, I feel unclean as I close this damn post out.