When I awoke, Eva and Maria had already gone to work. Barbara would be leaving soon, and she would take Rhianna, Lita, and the twins to school. Elise and Maggie were working together with Kate to make breakfast. Selina was still snuggled to my side, but Lita was already coming out of the shower.
Once I was up and had drained my bladder, Kate led me to the table, and set me down in front of a very large plate of eggs, bacon, grits and toast. I laughed and dug in. I guess they really did want me to keep up with my protein.
When Barbara had left with the girls for school and work, there was no one left, but Elise, Maggie, Kate, Selina, and me.
Over her coffee, Elise said, "so, you broke your own record last night."
"According to my mother," said Kate, "you made ALL ELEVEN of us pass out last night. We didn't just come, we actually passed out. ALL of us. How did you do that?"
"Secret weapon," I got out between mouthfuls. "Special technique, used to defeat beautiful foreign agents" I winked at Maggie "and their interrogation skills. I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."
We were all tired after the night before, but my abdominals were especially sore. I resolved to start working myself up to doing a hundred sit-ups every morning, but I wouldn't be able to start that until I recovered from this.
For those of us graduating, the day would be particularly full, although the official activities wouldn't start until after lunch.
I managed to make it home in time to leave with my parents for graduation. I dropped Kate and Selina off at their homes, since they had ridden in with their mothers.
My parents were fairly relaxed about the graduation, since they no longer felt as though they needed to push me through everything. They still took some pictures, and came and stood up when I walked across the stage.
I was really surprised at the size of the cheer I got as I received my diploma. I really had not been popular at all in my four years of high school, but the last eight weeks or so had seen a dramatic change. First, the whole gossip surrounding the double date with Cindy and Donna had gotten the attention of much of the school, particularly after Lita's comments during class change. After that, the camping circle gathering around me at lunch apparently gotten the attention of ALL the girls in the school, and finally, the escapade with Bree and friends had been the talk of the entire school for the past week.
When my name was called, and my parents stood up, just about every student in the graduating class stood up and screamed, joined by roars from what sounded like all the kids in the audience.
Bob told me later that from what he could tell, every girl wanted to HAVE me, and every boy wanted to BE me. Well, given what my life had been like the last couple of months, I guess I could understand the latter, at any rate.
It was deafening. Totally bemused, I accepted the diploma from and shook the hand of the equally-bemused principal, then bowed to the audience, resulting in another roar. I saw the principal checking the roster for my name, to see if he recognized it for anything. He didn't even know who I was.
I walked off the stage, still stunned at the reaction, wondering if it was a good thing or a bad thing that the principal didn't know my name.
I had never shaken so many hands in my life, nor been hugged OR kissed by so many girls. I didn't know a tenth of their names, but it seemed they all knew mine.
Selina and Lita, for once, had both dressed to show off their charms to advantage. Each of them had decolletage which went from throat to past their nipples. Most of the student body -- AND their parents -- seemed to be flabbergasted by both of them. Donna and Cindy were fairly conservatively dressed, but were still eye-catchers. Kate and Rhianna, on the other hand, were dressed as heart-stoppers.
All in all, I was surrounded by more beauty than any man had a right to expect to see in a lifetime. I don't know what I could possibly have done to deserve something like that, but I wasn't going to argue with my good fortune.
I knew, finally, why Lita and some of the others had been so brilliantly happy. I knew down to the depths of my being that I was loved, and nothing in the universe could disturb that happiness.
Or so I thought.
As I was moving through the graduation crowd, getting handshakes and high fives from guys whose names I'd never heard, and getting hugs and kisses from girls whose names I'd never heard, I moved closer to where the jock and cheerleader crowd was gathering. I wasn't moving toward or away from any area in particular; I was just milling through the 600 other members of my graduating class, and greeting individuals I knew.
As I got near the jock crowd, I saw Candi and Chuck talking. Neither looked happy. I hadn't seen Bree, Mary, or Joy yet, and wanted to give them hugs. As I got nearer to where Candi was, however, a large hand grabbed my collar and yanked backward, pulling me off my feet, then yanked downward, throwing me head-first to the concrete. I heard a couple of screams.
I tried to dampen my fall, but I wasn't falling. Whoever had grabbed me wasn't just trying to pull me into falling; he was actively slamming my head into the pavement, which would either kill me, or mess me up for life. I tried twisting to the outside to break my fall, but he was still holding my collar and accelerating me to the pavement.
I did the only thing left to do. I spun back toward my attacker's hand, grabbing his wrist with my hand, so he could not disengage from my collar. When he tried to get his arm out of the way to let my skull shatter on the concrete, my leverage against his wrist was enough to keep me tied to his arm, so his own effort to get himself out of the way was enough to slow me down. When he managed to tear his arm out of the way, I was able to flex my shoulders and back enough that my head did not hit the pavement. My back was badly bruised, but I probably had not broken anything.
There was not time to do anything else, as a very large hand on a huge arm was reaching for my throat. I managed to engage the hand with both of my own, barely keeping it off of my throat, as the remaining momentum of my falling body was transformed into a rolling motion back onto my shoulders, as my knee came up and drove through the attacker's elbow with all the terror of the moment.
There was a loud crack, and a roar of rage and pain, as the elbow reversed its bend. As the man yanked back his arm in pain, he lifted me right off the ground, flipping my feet around under me. Vaguely aware that it was a face I had never seen before, as soon as I felt the ground under my feet, I drove them as hard as I could through the ground, as I put a palm heel under the jaw that was cursing at me.
Just as I made contact, the world went black.
When I came to, I was in some place with a white ceiling. It took me a moment to realize that it must be a hospital room. I felt a little woozy, and things were a little blurry.
"How are you feeling, Danny?" said a voice. I looked to my right, and there was a small man in a neat suit. I couldn't quite focus on him, but he seemed to be holding something.
"What, . . . what happened?" I croaked. Just talking was a lot of effort.
"Well, Danny, it seems the father of one of the girls you've been sleeping with objected," he said. "How many girls have you been with, now?"
I tried to remember. "Umm, let me see." Something wasn't right. Everything was foggy. I tried to count, but everything was so confusing. "I don't-- what happened?"
"So, you can't even remember how many. Have you ever had an enraged father attack you before?" Now I could see what he was holding, and it was a small notepad and a pen. He was writing furiously.
There was something odd about that question, but I couldn't think about it. "What?"
He opened his mouth to say something else, when a small tornado entered the room. There was a blur of motion, and then I saw that his hands didn't have anything in them, after all.
The next couple of minutes were very confusing, but then I realized that Kate was there, along with both of her parents. There was a lot of shouting, and I drifted off to sleep in the middle of it.
The next time I woke up, it was early morning, and Kate and Selina were beside the bed. Selina was asleep, but Kate wasn't, and she gave Selina a shake as she said, "how are you feeling?"
I thought about it. I had a headache, and I was thirsty, but otherwise, I felt okay. "Okay, I guess," I said.
She smiled, tired, but happy. "Good. You had us all worried there for a bit."
"What happened?"
She frowned. "You had a concussion. We'll get to that, but let me get my Dad." She bounced out, and George came in a moment later.
George shone a light in my eyes, and checked my reflexes, and did funny things to my fingers and feet, before asking me to sit up. I did, and felt another wave of dizziness. I really had a splitting headache.
Selina brought me some water, and I was able to drink it, and felt all right with it. The attending physician was not George, but had allowed him to participate, apparently, after initially keeping him out, when it was discovered that a reporter had been allowed to sit in with me in order to ambush me as soon as I woke up.
I frowned. "That wasn't a dream?"
"I'm afraid not," George said. He handed me a newspaper article.
It hadn't made the above-the-fold, but it was on the bottom of the front page. "Graduating Teen Attacked by Enraged Father" was the headline. Attached to it were pictures of me being pulled back by my collar, me on the ground with blood around my head, and the man who attacked me, in handcuffs, being put into an ambulance. In addition to me, the story mentioned all four of the cheerleaders by name, and included pictures of both Selina and Lita. It said that the attacker was a loving father, driven insane because of the harm done to his innocent daughter.
I was a ruthless womanizer who was doing all I could to go through all the girls in the school. It said that I had held an "exclusive interview" with the reporter, and told him that I had been having sex with so many girls that I could not even remember how many it had been, let alone their names. When asked if I had killed anyone or was wanted by the police, I had avoided the question.
"What happened?" I said for about the fourth time. "Who was that guy?"
"That," said Kate, "was Candi's father."
I stared at her. "Her father?"
"Yeah. It seems he is a little upset with you for taking his daughter's virginity."
I snorted. "Did anyone tell him that the whole football team got there first?"
Now Kate snorted. "Did he strike you as the kind of person you could reason with? Not only has the whole football team had her more than once, she did them all when she was a freshman, and has done the entire football AND basketball team every year since. Not that daddy would believe that."
"Is he in jail?"
"Yes, he is," said Eva, now in the room. "After his unprovoked attack on you, I was able to convince the judge that he is too dangerous to be loose, so he is being held without bail until his mental state can be evaluated." She looked grim. "I'm afraid that evaluation may take quite a while."
"Apparently," said Selina, "he has been beating his wife AND Candi AND her brother on a regular basis. Somehow, that was left out of the newspaper article."
"Something else that was left out," said Eva, "but which I have hired a private investigative service to discover proof of, was HOW her father learned whatever made him attack you. Candi didn't say anything to him at all, but she says he was talking to a reporter the last couple of days. So the best guess is that the reporter wound him up to attack you, probably pointed you out to him in the crowd, and then was there with a camera when he did."
"Even with your training," said George, "it is a wonder he did not kill you."
"If we can find proof of that," said Eva, "we can have the reported arrested on charges of conspiracy to commit murder, and incitement to commit murder."
I frowned. "A lot of this is still not making sense to me. How did he manage to be here when I woke up. Was it the same one?"
"Yes, it was. We think he bribed one of the nurses, or he would never have been able to sit in here like that."
It took another hour for me to get discharged, but Eva flatly refused to leave my side until I was.
My memory of it was very foggy, but Eva was the tornado which had interrupted the reporter.
That evening, I got a phone call from George. The university had decided to withdraw my scholarship offer. I would still be able to attend, but only if I paid my own way.
The reporter had, it seemed, accomplished several things at once. He had written a news story which got him a lot of notoriety, he had gotten Candi's father put in jail, and quite probably prison, and he had attempted to arrange the murder of a young man just graduating from high school -- yours truly. He had not succeeded in the murder, but he had managed to undermine my one chance at college. He had, pretty effectively, destroyed several lives, in order to gain himself a little fame.
Over the next few days, everything unraveled. The reporter, because of the front-page story, had a lot more resources, and was constantly watching every one of the girls in the original six, as well as the four cheerleaders. No one could so much as open their doors, without a swarm of TV cameras and microphones being shoved in faces. The questions were all about me as the villain, not about the man who attacked me from behind on the day of my graduation.
Elise had to hire a security service, after a reporter broke into her home and took pictures of her and Rhianna eating breakfast, then ran away before anyone could stop him. The next day, her name and pictures were in the national news media, and the danger to her and Rhianna had jumped, by an order of magnitude.
After consultation with the security service, Elise also activated some circuits which the drug lord had built, but which had never been used. The twelve-foot wall now had active pressure sensors all along its top, there were pressure sensors in the ground just inside it, and the whole top was electrified. The gate across the driveway was now closed and electrified, as was the gate into the forest in back.
As they were in the last two days of school, she and Maggie spent those last two days, with my help, in preparing the bunker for long-term occupancy. As soon as Rhianna was finished with school, she and her mother went into the bunker to stay, and I worked on the plan to create the additional escape route, as quickly as possible.
It looked as though we were possibly going to get away with it, as there just wasn't enough there to warrant a follow-up story, until the Sunday edition after the last day of school. There, on the bottom of page one, was a follow-up blurb, announcing an exclusive interview with the mother of the "predator of Central High." My mother had granted an interview to the paper, and had not told me. The story was on page sixteen, but it did not matter; the subject matter was hotter than Plutonium to local residents.
She had given the reporter every detail she knew, and she made up ones she didn't know. She told them about my obsession with sex. She told them about parents telling me I could make love to their daughters, including names; she told them about my threatening to "run away from home," she told them about how much she had sacrificed to send me to college, and so on, ad nauseam. That is usually just an expression, but I was literally about to be sick to my stomach.
I could not even tell my mother why publicity with respect to Elise and Rhianna in particular was a very bad thing; she would just joyfully repeat it to the reporters. There was a slight chance that Elise's picture had escaped notice when the syndicated photo went national. I didn't want to bank Elise's and Rhianna's lives on that, however.
By Friday afternoon after school, Elise and Rhianna were in the bunker. Maggie, who now knew their story and the reason for secrecy, knew officially that they were away "explorin', somewhere, seein' America."
Maggie had been warned about the Mafia, and she kept her eyes peeled for signs that there were others there, up to no good. I worked frantically, digging in the ceiling above the pinsetting machines in the bowling alley. When I finally got to where I needed to get, I put the markers up in the wood, and called in the contractor to begin work on the bathroom.
The man thought I was crazy for wanting it where I did, and wanting it built the way I did, but with the authorization letter from Elise, he had to do what I told him to do.
I went in that Monday morning, and began the emancipation process. Given the publicity, the Court was willing to fit me in that afternoon, at the end of the judge's schedule. As expected, the case was open-and-shut, except for one thing. The judge took a VERY dim view of people endangering the lives of minors for their own profit. When the people doing so were reporters, she was downright unpleasant. I had an eye-opener of an education about just what a judge can do, when she gets really mad.
After asking me a number of questions about the incident at graduation, she looked thoughtful, then asked some more about what had been speculated. I did not automatically trust those in authority, but something told me I could trust her, so I told her about the reporter seeing Candi's father just before I was attacked. She looked at me speculatively, but did not ask me about any of the gossip that had been in the paper about sexual relationships.
Then, she told the clerk to clear her calendar for the next two days, and issued summons for the next morning for my parents, the reporter, the senior editor of the newspaper, the ten girls, and all their parents. She informed the bailiff to make sure the officers delivering the summons were to inform the reporter and the editor that first amendment rights did NOT allow them to avoid a summons, and that she WOULD be issuing a 30-day contempt citation if they were not on time.
Then she dismissed the court, but then said to me, "come with me."
She led me back to her office. I guess it was what they meant by "in chambers," and I was expecting something impressive, but it was just an office, with a lot of boring books.
As I came in behind her, she said, "close the door."
She hung up her robe as I closed it, then turned around a looked at me. "Young man, I am inclined to go to war on your behalf, and yet I am acutely aware that I do not have the full story. Sit down." She pointed to a chair across from her desk.
I sat.
"I need you to tell me the WHOLE story -- all of it. I have already made up my mind on your emancipation, and whatever you tell me will not affect that. I have not, however, closed that case, and that is the reason why I have summoned all the others here. I want to know the whole story."
I just blinked at her, while my mind raced at warp speed. "Ma'am?"
"Your Honor."
"Excuse me, Ma-- Your Honor. Many parts of this story are not shameful, but do not easily bear the light of public scrutiny."
"So our intrepid reporter had apparently discovered. Unless you want him to keep chewing at your ankle like a rabid Pekingese, until he has uncovered every single sordid detail of your private life, a more active method of discouraging him must be found."
I thought about it some more. "I see. M-- Your Honor, may I be assured that no persons will be harassed or prosecuted if I reveal some activities which may not be entirely legal?"
"You may not."
I sighed. "Then I fear I have nothing to say."
"Even if it means I decide to drop it all, and let you fight it out with the reporters?"
"I'm afraid so, Your Honor. A promise is a promise."
Her mouth twitched. "So it is. Let me say this, then. As long as you don't tell me about crimes which are Felonies, or which involve a victim, then I have discretion as to whether to pursue them. Neither you nor any of your partners would be pursued for consensual activities."
"Does that mean, as long as no one is forced to do anything against her or his will, you won't object?"
Her mouth twitched again. "You might make a decent lawyer, young man. Yes, that's correct."
I thought about it. "Okay, then. I guess it all started at the all-state choir tryouts."
Over the next two hours, I told her about the decision to go camping, the explorations of love that had resulted in an orgy on the campout, the conflict with Billy and his friends and his father, the realization that we were all in love and wanted to pursue it, the struggles we had when we came back to school and realized we were all different, the way our love had continued to grow and develop, the encounter with the four cheerleaders, and how that had all fallen out when we had been seen. I told her about what the cheerleaders had said about their own experience, with the football teams and others, and about what had happened when Bree had called the six girls and told them I was dumping them.
I told her about the confrontation at my parents' house, and Bree and the others coming clean, and making it right, and being welcomed by the others after they had made it right. I told her about the party that evening, when the parents of all six of the girls had recognized that their daughters' association with me was such a good thing for their daughters, that they formally gave me permission, in front of witnesses, to make love to their daughters as much as I wanted.
I told her about the scholarship, and that it had been revoked after I had been attacked. I told her about Elise and Rhianna being hunted by the Mafia, and the reporter breaking into their house to take pictures of them for the national news media. I told her that Elise and Rhianna were in hiding, because there was a good chance there was a Mafia assassin looking for them right now.
When I had run down, she looked at me thoughtfully for a couple of minutes, then sighed, and said, "young man, I don't know whether to laugh or cry. I'm not going to rule on your emancipation yet, for your own protection. As soon as I emancipate you, you will lose all the legal protections of being a minor, and the lawyers on the other side will cut your story to ribbons. Until then, you are protected as a minor.
"Your story has more holes than Swiss cheese. I don't doubt anything you have said," she said, as I started to bristle. "I've met too many liars not to know you are telling me the truth. I also know, however, that you've had a lot more lovers than the ones you've told me about. I can probably even guess who most of them are, and I don't blame you for keeping them out of the story. It isn't relevant, and it's no one else's business, including mine.
"The truly amazing thing in this is that all these women would be okay sharing you, and that the parents would be okay giving you permission to make love to their daughters. I can tell you that women are not inclined to share men, as a rule, and parents are more protective of daughters than you would believe, until you are a parent yourself.
"I can understand why the cheerleaders would ambush you; there have always been girls who do that sort of thing, although they didn't do it in packs when I was young. What I don't understand is what would make one of their fathers so mad that he would try, publicly, to commit murder. From what you tell me, his daughter has made love with at least a hundred other men, and maybe twice that -- so why become homicidal now? The reporter being right there with the camera is just a little convenient, and there is something about this that really stinks.
"You should know that I'm already far too involved to try any case that might arise. If there turns out to be foul play involved, then I will pass it forward to the District Attorney to take appropriate action. If it ever comes before a judge, it will have to be someone other than me, to insure the accused get a fair trial.
"Your emancipation request, however, gives me the excuse I need to dig into all this, and see if there is something which merits further scrutiny."
Her expression hardened then. "There is one thing, however, which I find very disturbing. WHY didn't you alert authorities about the gang you encountered in the National Forest?"
"Your Honor, my ONLY concern was keeping the girls alive and safe."
She glared at me for ten seconds, before she said, "Has it not occurred to you that they might just do unto others what they wanted to do unto you?"
My mouth dropped open, and I looked at her, aghast. "In all my concern about keeping them safe, I didn't even think about that." Then I swallowed hard, as the answer to my question could potentially torture me for the rest of my life. "Have there been recent attacks of that nature in that area?"
"Not recent ones, no, but there have been several, over the past five years. All of them were gang-rape-and-murder, and they all followed the same pattern you suspected. The young men you describe are about the right age to have started that about the time they were the age you are now.
"Will you promise me you will immediately make a report to the Park Service, telling them of the descriptions, and the make, model, and plate of that vehicle?"
"I promise."
"Good. I can see by the look on your face as you asked that question, that you don't want to have a tragedy on your conscience. Don't wait, or you may regret your procrastination for a VERY long time."
"I won't."
"Good. Do it tonight, or at the VERY latest, tomorrow after the hearing. Now, about tomorrow: I don't care about your love relationships, but if you say ANYTHING about them, I will be forced to take official notice, and you don't want that to happen. If anyone ELSE says anything, just keep your mouth shut. I am the only one who can ask you questions tomorrow. If the reporters try to talk to you before you come in here, don't glare at them, or run away from them. Just walk to your destination as if they were not there. Do not look at them, speak to them, or do anything that indicates they are in your universe at all.
"They will be trying hard to get your goat. Don't let them."
I nodded. "Thank you, Your Honor," I said, "I won't. I wish there were some way I could thank you properly."
She looked at me and sighed. "You make me wish I were forty years younger, but I'm not. You just remember what I told you, and make sure your friends know to ignore the reporters and to keep their mouths shut, too, unless I ask them a direct question."
She paused a moment, then said, "I wish I could help you with your mother, but I'm afraid you are on your own there. Don't give up; frequently things settle down, once the legal issues are resolved, and I have no doubt that she does love you, after all. See you tomorrow."
I thanked her and got out of there. I drove to Lita's house, found her and Maria in, and gave them the message. The Deputy had just left, after delivering the summons.
Maria and Lita drove to the Lawsons, and then to the Schwartz's, to make sure everyone was prepared for tomorrow. I drove to Barbara and Selinas' house, and then to Elise's home. I parked the car in the garage, and made sure everything was armed, before going inside.
I found a terrified Maggie, sitting in a dark house, wondering if a sniper was looking at her. After closing up and arming all the doors, and checking that the perimeter was secure, I took her down to the guest room in the basement, where there were no outside windows, and made love to her a good part of the night.
In the morning, I left Maggie watching the house, and drove to the courthouse. The reporters had not caught on to what I was driving yet, so I was able to park in the deck a couple of blocks away, and walk through the adjacent buildings. I came out of the building next to the courthouse, then only had about a hundred feet to cross, before I was in the courthouse.
For this day, all unofficial recording equipment was banned from the courthouse altogether, but I still had to run the gamut of cameras and shouted questions on the way in.
My parents were on the steps, talking to a reporter with a TV camera. Oh, shit. As I passed them, I could hear my mother, joyfully telling the world in a very loud voice, one of the most embarrassing stories of my childhood.
"It's time we were inside," I said, gently, taking her elbow, and steering her toward the entrance.
She did not want to go. "Oh, Danny, I was just telling this nice man about--"
"I heard," I said, as calmly as I was able, then I said to my father, who was just standing on her other side, "help me, please."
He gave a little start, then took her other elbow. With the camera following us every step, and my mother still trying to list other embarrassing incidents loudly over her shoulder to the camera, while the crowd laughed, we managed to walk her up the steps and into the security gate, where the guard stopped the camera from following farther.
We had to almost drag her from that point, to get her away from the camera.
George and Eva were both on the steps, where they had been watching. They followed in after us, providing some visual blockage to prevent the camera from filming us past the security table.
"Excuse me," said Eva to my mother, as soon as we were well out of range of the cameras, "but I have a question." Beside her, George's face was entirely blank.
"Yes?" my mother beamed at Eva.
"Was the life-long damage you just did to your son deliberate, or were you actually unaware of the consequences of telling material like that to reporters and a television camera?"
My mother just gaped at her, then said in outrage, "I would never do anything to hurt my son!"
"You just hurt him in a way that will continue hurting him for the rest of his LIFE!" Eva snapped, and I saw a bit of the tornado that had swept in when that reporter had ambushed me by the bedside.
"Those are just harmless stories," my mother insisted. "How could they hurt anyone?"
Eva and George just stared at her. "You really did not know those are harmful?" said George.
"What could be the harm in it?"
"Reporters have accused your son of being some kind of sex-crazed madman, and you choose to tell the entire world, on television, about the erections he had when you were changing his diaper. You told them about his bladder failure in a department store, but you neglected to tell them his age, so it might have been last week, for all they knew. You told him that you had a great deal of trouble getting him to stop holding his penis when he needed to go to the bathroom as a toddler, but you again did not tell them his age, and left them to conclude that it might have been last week.
"They will interpret everything you said in the most harmful way to your son it can possibly be interpreted. They have no shame at all. They will take the most innocent quotes, and turn them into pure poison to use against your son. Because you have said these things to a television camera, they will be pulled out and played for the world, every single time your son is on the news, for the rest of his life." George spoke gently, but his expression was grim. "He will have to get used to the pain of it; there is nothing he can do about it now, that will not make it worse."
We had come to the door to the courtroom, where a guard was checking IDs. Only those on the list could enter. As she got up to the door, my mother remembered she had to go to the bathroom, whereupon all the rest of us decided we had to go, too. I actually did need to go, and I'm guessing my Dad did, too. I'm sure Eva wanted to keep an eye on my mother, in case there was another reporter waiting to ambush her in there.
As we went into the mens room, I said to my father, "Why didn't you stop her, Dad? Didn't you know what she was doing?"
He sighed. "I tried, son, but I couldn't drag her away by her hair in front of the cameras, could I?"
"Actually, sir, I think that would have been less harmful than what happened," said George. "MUCH less harmful."
As we got to in front of the ladies room, we could hear shouting coming from inside it. I could hear my mother's voice, loudly telling yet another embarrassing story. I could hear Eva's voice, too, but she was being out-shouted by my mother. After a moment, the door opened, and Eva said, "I'm sorry, but she is talking to reporters again, and I can't stop her."
I looked over to my father, and said, "if I go in there, it will be worse. PLEASE, Dad."
He sighed, and walked into the ladies room. A moment later, there was a series of squawks, and then my father and Eva emerged, literally dragging my mother between them. She was, again, shouting the most embarrassing details of my childhood at the top of her lungs. As they dragged her across the hallway to the door, I saw one person frozen, watching the scene. It was the judge, about twenty feet away, in street clothes.
My mother continued shouting the story, laughing, as if it were a cute story everyone would appreciate, even after we got into the courtroom. The judge entered immediately, still fastening her robes, and startling the bailiff and the stenographer, who were not ready for her. My mother finally shut up at the "all rise!" command.
I looked over, and could see horrified tears on several faces.
Not everyone was there yet, but the judge instructed the guard at the door to continue admitting those on the summons list, even if they were late.
As he was not himself on trial, Candi's father was wearing handcuffs, and was dressed in a prison jumpsuit.
The judge informed us that we would be answering questions relating to my petition for emancipation, but that the questions were unstructured, and could lead in any direction. Everyone would be under oath the entire time. She reminded us that, even though no one was on trial, questions under oath COULD lead in the direction of criminal charges or other legal proceedings.
The bailiff interrupted her at one point. "Your Honor?"
"Yes?"
"Time."
"Very good." She broke off what she was doing, and said, "let's see who is here." She picked up a piece of paper, and said, "stand briefly when I call your name, but do not speak." She quickly ran through the list of everyone involved. I had never met Candi's mother, or Mary's or Joy's parents, but Bree had been on my swim team, and I remembered her parents from there.. Everyone else there, I knew.
She got to the reporter and his editor last, and they were not there. "I am issuing a thirty day contempt-of-court warrant for the arrest of those two." BANG! "Bailiff, please take the warrant from the clerk, and ask the guard to have the police execute it immediately." BANG!
There was a delay, while the clerk completed the form, the judge signed it, and the bailiff took it to the door.
The judge looked around at the courtroom. "Anyone not an employee or official of the Court, or not mentioned on the list I just read, does not belong here, and risks being thrown in jail for contempt. This is a juvenile proceeding, and is not open to the public.
"You two; who are you?"
The two turned out to be reporters. The judge did not throw them in jail, but she had the bailiff check them for recording equipment, take their note pads, and escort them to the door. They had gotten in by simply getting in before the guard was posted at the door, and hiding.
Then the judge instructed us all again, and the bailiff swore us all in. She spoke first to Candi's father. "Let's start with you. Remember that you are under oath. Please stand, and state your full name."
He did, and she continued. "As you are already scheduled for trial, with another judge, for your actions on the day in question, I am obliged to inform you that your presence here has no bearing on that case whatever. You are here to clarify some things related to the emancipation of one Daniel Thompson."
She proceeded to ask him about why he approached me after graduation. After a pause, he said it was because he was told I had sexually assaulted his daughter.
"Who told you this had happened?"
He mentioned the reporter's name -- the same one that was on the by-line.
The judge asked him to clarify exactly what he had been told. It was, essentially, a distortion of the story of Bree and the others at the party, except that I had somehow tied and gagged all four, then stripped, humiliated, and raped them. There were no other details.
I thought about how I would react if I had heard about that happening to my beloveds. Would I be ready to kill with my bare hands? I smiled grimly. I knew I would be.
"Thank you. Sit down. Would Candi, Joy, Bree, and Mary please stand?"
The girls stood. "Remember that you are under oath. Please just answer yes or no. Do you remember the incident he is describing?" They all did.
"Were you tied up or gagged at any point in it?" No.
"Was anyone ELSE tied up or gagged at any point in it?" No.
"Were you, at any point, forced to do anything against your will, whether by drugs, torture, blackmail, or anything like that?" No.
"When any physical encounters happened between yourself and Daniel, was there anyone in the room but the five of you?" No.
"Would you describe what happened, when there were only the five of you in the room, as a positive experience, or a negative one?" They all hesitated. Bree spoke up first, but they all said positive.
"We don't need to hear any details, but is what happened in that room something you would want to repeat?" The girls all looked nervously around at their parents. "Let me clarify something. I have no intention of going into the details of exactly what DID happen, as that is not germane. It IS, however, important to determine if the young man, Daniel, is the sex-crazed, womanizing predator the newspaper has been portraying him as, or simply a normal young man who may not have made all the best choices, but is by no means a predator."
The girls hesitated again, but Bree, again, spoke up first. "Your Honor?"
"Yes, young lady?"
"I need to say more than you have asked for."
The judge sighed, and said, "are you sure?"
"Yes, Your Honor."
"Go ahead, then."
Bree first turned to her parents, and said, "If you do not know what I'm about to tell everyone, I am very sorry you have to learn it this way, but I have to do the right thing, no matter what it costs me. I've done the wrong thing so many times, that I cannot bear to do it again."
She took a shuddering breath, and faced the judge. "I lost my virginity while I was in middle school," she said. "I've had sex with more boys than I can count. At the party, *I* was the predator. I stalked Danny, and I cornered him, and I rubbed my breasts and crotch against him, and I literally grabbed him by the lapels and hauled him into a bedroom. I didn't tear his clothes off, but I made it absolutely clear that I wasn't going to stop until he made love to me."
She looked over at her friends, and said, "I can't speak for anyone but myself, but I have never seen Danny do anything predatory to anyone, although I did see him stand up to a very tough football player who was trying to hit Candi. Danny blocked the hit, and just held Chuck with his hand, until Chuck agreed to leave Candi alone. He also stood up to Robbie, which is just unreal. He protected all of us, until the guys who wanted to hurt us had left."
She went on. "I don't know where that reporter got what he told Candi's Dad, or what he put in the paper, but it was totally false. I was there; I know what happened."
She looked over at Candi's father, and said, "you should be thanking Danny. He saved Candi from showing up at her graduation with her face black-and-blue, and maybe having a broken jaw or some teeth missing. Danny guarded her safety AND her dignity, which is more than you've done."
She looked back at the judge. "I'm done."
"Okay, young lady. Please sit down. Does anyone else wish to clarify?"
Joy took a deep breath, and said, "I guess I have to. I agree with everything Bree just said. It all happened just like she described it. I was the predator, too, just like Bree. Danny is a hero, not a predator. I'm sorry, Mom and Dad." She was crying as she sat.
Mary spoke next. "Yes, he is a hero, and everything they said is true."
She sat, and Bree leaned over and whispered "coward!" loud enough for everyone to hear.
Mary stood back up, flushing, and said, "okay, yes, I was a predator, too, and I made love to him, too, and it was so much better than anything I'd ever done in my life, that I would do almost ANYTHING to feel that loved again."
She sat down, and was crying.
Candi was the last one standing, and she wasn't crying, but she was trembling.
"Young lady," said the judge gently, "you don't need to go into details; just answer the question."
"But I DO need to go into the details," she wailed, "to protect Danny from these horrible people!"
She straightened herself up, looked the judge squarely in the eye, and said, "yes, I agree with all of that, and yes, I did all the things the others did, and more." She looked over at her father, and said, "Yes, Daddy, Chuck was going to beat the hell out of me, just like YOU do, to Mom and Johnnie and me, and Danny stood up for me, and stopped him." Candi looked like she was going to say more, then seemed to think better of it and sit.
Just then, two men entered, escorted by a Sherriff's Deputy. "Are these them?" asked the judge.
"Yes, Your Honor."
"Where did you find them?"
"Outside, with the other reporters," he said. "They didn't want to come." I noticed that both men were in handcuffs, and one of them was sporting a black eye.
"Anything else I should know about?"
The Deputy shrugged. "No, Your Honor."
"Very well. Are you . . ." She read their names. They were.
"Can you tell me why you did not come when you were summoned?" They blathered something about first amendment rights.
They were still blathering when the gavel came down. "That's enough. You have already been given thirty days for contempt of court. First amendment rights do not excuse you from obeying a court order. Be very cooperative, and you MIGHT get that thirty days reduced to three."
She had the bailiff swear them both in, then had the reporter stand.
"Remember that you are under oath. Had you been talking to Mr Bruden prior to last Tuesday?"
The reporter hesitated, then said, "I stand by my rights under the first amendment."
"The first amendment protects your right to print matters as you believe them to be true and not harmful. It does not extend to protecting you in an attack on a minor.
"Once again, had you been talking to Mr Bruden prior to last Tuesday? I remind you that the least you will get, if you continue to fail to cooperate, is an even longer time in jail for contempt of court. You have no source to hide, since Mr Bruden has already testified both that you spoke to him, and what you said."
"What did he say?"
The judge smiled. "It is time for you to answer my question. NOW."
The reporter swallowed, then said, "I told him that there had been unsubstantiated rumors concerning his daughter."
It took time, but the judge hauled it all out of him. Once he was talking, and saw that he had no recourse, he told it all, including discussing it with his editor beforehand.
The editor wanted to balk in the same way the reporter had, but after looking thoughtfully at the judge, he came clean, and told him they had talked about which father would be most likely to be violent, and then making sure the reporter was there with a camera to record his reaction. They had even discussed what time to tell him, to ensure the most public and violent response.
At the end, the judge sat back, and looked at them all. "Does anyone have anything to add to this? Remember, you are all still under oath."
George stood up. "Your Honor, great harm has been done to Daniel as a result of these things. From what I saw of his condition after the attack, and how it was described to me, I have to say, as a medical doctor, it is almost a miracle that he was not killed on the spot. It was only his extraordinary skill that kept him from dying right there, and I believe he is perhaps the most exceptional youth I have met in my entire life.
"It may be worthwhile to hear the testimony of my daughter, and of several other young women who were present, when Daniel and they were attacked, twice, by a gang in a national forest, apparently bent upon rape and murder. My wife and I are both convinced our daughter, along with many of these others here, would be dead today, were it not for his skill, and even more, for his courage. He is a hero, and he is being vilified to line the pockets of evil men.
"Further, Torr University recently offered Daniel a full scholarship, which was withdrawn after the negative publicity received. Due to an unfortunate lack of discretion by Daniel's mother, I fear the negative publicity will only increase. As a result, he has lost an opportunity which may never come again.
"It may not be possible to reverse all the harm that has been done by these men, Your Honor, but I think that some positive publicity might help to get his scholarship restored, if not his reputation."
The judge looked at him thoughtfully for a few moments, then spoke to the room. "I believe I now have all the information necessary to resolve this case, but first, there are some consequential matters to address."
She banged her gavel. "Bailiff, take the reporter into custody, where he will be charged with conspiracy to commit murder, conspiracy to commit felony assault on a minor, and incitement to same. Other charges may be forthcoming from the District Attorney." She banged the gavel again.
As the bailiff and a deputy removed the protesting reporter and Candi's father, the judge sat silent. Once they were out of the room, she told the editor to stand, and said to him, "I will give you ONE chance. This is not a plea bargain. You are about to get the same two big charges as the other fellow -- conspiracy to commit murder, and conspiracy to commit felony assault on a minor. Whatever you do right now will not affect that, either way.
"Do you decide what goes on the front page of your paper?" He nodded.
"Would you like a chance to undo the harm you have done, before you are taken into custody?" He hesitated, then nodded again.
"Then I will drop the thirty days for contempt of court, and release you now on your own recognizance. You have until four o'clock tomorrow afternoon to turn yourself in to the Sheriff's office, here on the ground floor. If you are late, you will be declared a fugitive. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
He hesitated. "Your Honor, I'm not sure I do."
"I'm giving you one day, to see how much of the damage you can undo. I will look for you, here in my courtroom, when I adjourn for the day at four thirty, and we will see how you have done."
She peered down at him from the bench. "Do not make the mistake of underestimating this. The first amendment offers no protection at all for what you have done. I am only offering you this one chance for the sake of the victim, because I think you may be the only person who has the potential to restore much of the harm you have caused."
He nodded. "I'm not sure how to approach it, but I'll do what I can." He paused in thought for a moment. "I heard part of the interview his mother did for the camera. It just won't be possible to undo all of that. TV is too powerful."
"Then make that your main point," I said. I stood hastily. "Sorry, Your Honor. May I speak to offer a suggestion?"
"Go ahead."
I turned to the editor. "Why not tell the truth, in a way that shames the TV media? Get some integrity points for print media as you do this. Start out with something like, 'here is something you won't hear from the TV news: we were wrong,' and take it from there. The bigger and bolder you make it, at the same time they are making more of their negative spin, the better you will look, and the worse they will look."
He just looked at me for thirty seconds, while the rest of the courtroom waited in silence. Then he said, "why would you help me with this?"
I thought for a moment. "First reason: I just want this to go away, and helping you help me makes sense. Second reason: while I don't like news media at all, visual media like TV seems a lot more corrupt than newspapers, although you and your buddy made a fair bid to outstrip them all with this. Third reason: It's a chance to help to change the world for the better. If you do this, it will set an example for newspapers all across the world, and make you points in a race you've been losing in since before I was born."
He snorted. "You're an idealistic kid, but if you ever want a job, look me up; I could use you." He looked up at the judge. "I'll do my best, judge," and this time, he sounded hopeful. He picked up his things, got permission from the judge, and left.
The judge looked at the rest of us, and said, "I hope there have been some lessons learned here, about the harm that comes from carelessly talking to reporters."
She gestured to my mother. "Please approach the bench." When my mother had come close, and she had looked into her eyes, she said, "I believe I'd like to talk to you in chambers. Everyone else but Daniel may wait or leave, as they choose." She got up and walked out, leading my mother.
The instant she was out of the courtroom, the cheerleaders and their parents broke into noisy argument. The parents had been shocked and upset by what they had learned. Although Joy's mother had apparently guessed that her daughter was not a virgin, the rest had not known anything about it. They ended up all four essentially saying to their parents, yes, we are not virgins, we have all been sexually active for at LEAST two years with lots of partners, and we are going to KEEP being sexually active -- but we have given up the multiple partners, to focus on Danny over there.
The parents did not know what to do. They were clearly upset, but it was also clear that they were not going to keep their daughters from doing exactly what they said they would do. One of them started to threaten me, and his daughter just stopped him, and said, "Dad, would you rather I went back to letting the entire football team fuck me? Because if you manage to cut me off from Danny, that is exactly what will happen, because that is what I did before I met him."
Over the next few minutes, the shocked parents began to adjust themselves to the concept that I was actively having sex with all their daughters, but that was actually a whole lot better than what their daughters had been experiencing before I came along.
It was ten minutes before my mother and the judge returned. Both looked unhappy.
Once the judge was seated, she ruled on my emancipation, affirming it, and declaring me a legal adult. Then she banged her gavel and dismissed the court.
Before leaving the courtroom, I met the other parents. Bree's parents I had met from the swim team, and then in middle school, at some play or other. They were fairly nice, I had remembered, but country club sorts, snooty. Joy's and Mary's parents were more down-to-earth and friendly. Candi's father was apparently a violent man who drank a lot, and her mother was a shy mouse who was terrified of him.
I asked my mother if the judge had convinced her not to talk to the reporters. She looked at me, and there were tears in her eyes, as she said, "I just don't see what harm those cute little stories can do, but she convinced me not to talk to them."
My mother is the most stubborn person on the planet, I think. She looked thoughtful. "I think I can clear this up by just explaining what I meant," she said. "Yes, I'll just go talk to that nice reporter, and straighten this whole thing out."
"Mrs Thompson?" We turned to see the judge, who had come back into the courtroom in street clothes after hanging up her robes. "I came back in, because I was afraid that was where you were going to go."
She took my mother by the shoulders, looked her in the eye, and said, "I can't say it any plainer than this. If you ever want to see your son again, you will never so much as look at a TV camera when it is pointed in your direction, or even acknowledge the existence of any reporter of any kind. If they ask a question, don't answer. If they stick a microphone in your face and shout at you, just keep walking to where you are going until they either get out of your way or knock you down. They will get out of your way, because you can have them arrested if they don't. They must be invisible, and you must be deaf, when they are around you.
"That's if you ever want to see your son again."
"Oh, nonsense," she said, "of course I'll see him."
"Mrs Thompson," I said, and my calling my mother by her last name brought her up short. I looked steadily at her, and said, "did you already forget what I told you last week? I have just been emancipated, and I am no longer your son. You have treated me with deliberate cruelty, you have caused me irreparable harm, but despite having your nose rubbed in the fact of that harm, you appear determined to keep causing me MORE harm, even after you have thrown me out of your life.
"I just don't understand why you hate me," I said.
"Danny, my love, I don't hate you, I love you."
"I'm not your love, and I'm no longer your son. You have no more right to talk about my childhood with another person than you have to discuss personal secrets of any other stranger."
"That's nonsense," she said, "the reporter was delighted to hear the stories."
"Yes," said Barbara, "I'm sure he was. I met several people like that, long ago." I met her eyes, and knew she was talking about the human sharks she met when she worked in the porn industry. They didn't care who they destroyed, as long as they made money.
"I'm putting a stop to this," said the judge. "Mrs Thompson, I am shocked at your determination to deliberately undermine your son's well-being. I am issuing a court order, prohibiting you from discussing ANYTHING related to Daniel with any person outside your immediate family. I don't care if it's a neighbor, your pastor, or the grocery store clerk. If you so much as mention his name outside your immediate family, I will throw you in jail.
"Further, if you tell ANY more details from his past life to a camera or a reporter, I will fine you $1,000 for EACH detail you reveal. If you get paid for revealing his personal life, I would say that he will have a very effective case, if he decides to sue you."
My mother was crying, now, but all she said was, "how could you do this?"
"How? I'm a judge. When I see a cruel, narcissistic mother trying to destroy a son who has been removed from his home because of her abuse, it is my duty to put a stop to it. I am making that an official court order, Mrs Thompson. If you break it, you will go to jail, and you will also face very large fines. Do not make the mistake of thinking I don't mean it, or won't do it."
"You're cruel."
The judge smiled, tightly. "No. I'm never cruel, although if I were wearing my robes and sitting on the bench, I would slap you with contempt of court for disrespecting me so badly in my courtroom."
The judge handed me her card, and said, "I'd like to hear from you, Daniel, from time to time, to make sure you are doing okay."
I said I would certainly do that, and thanked her as warmly as I could. The clerk had not left the room yet, and had started filling out the order as soon as the judge had mentioned it. Before we left, she signed and officially handed the order to my mother.
"The reporters are certain to try to catch you on the way out," she said. "You MUST simply walk straight to your car, and pretend they are invisible and you are deaf. Don't look at them, don't look away from them, don't speak a single word to them, NO MATTER WHAT. If you talk to them, you will be placed under arrest. That's a promise."
She looked at all the rest of us. "That's the only way to deal with reporters," she said, "unless you WANT to give them an interview. They will be trying all sorts of things to get your goat, to make you upset, or to get you to do something outrageous or emotional, so they can catch it on camera. Just keep a poker face, and walk toward your destination at a normal pace with no show of emotion at all, and they have nothing they can show on television, except people walking normally on the sidewalk, which is boring."
After that, she sent us all out together. It was a circus, with reporters and cameras lined in every direction. I walked out by myself, with the whole train behind me. I could hear my mother trying to stop to talk to a reporter, and I could hear her squawk as my father dragged her past him by main force. It was probably the first time he had done that in their entire marriage.
Before walking out, I agreed to leave with Kate's family, as I did not want to be seen driving the convertible just now, and they were certain to follow me. They still had cars following, with cameras and microphones and shouted questions, all the way down the road. It was about twenty minutes to the Schwartz home, but two cars of cameras and reporters followed us all the way there. When we pulled up to a traffic light, they pulled up beside us, got out, and began banging on our windows.
When we pulled into their driveway, they pulled in right behind us. George said, "stay in the car," and got out. I rolled my window down to hear what he said.
"Get off my property immediately, or face criminal charges for trespassing," he said, then returned to the car. We rolled the windows back up, then got out, and walked into the house. The crew did not leave, but stayed in the driveway, continuing to film us. Just as we got to the house, a police cruiser pulled up behind their vehicle, lights flashing. We watched from inside, as the two officers placed the entire crew under arrest, impounded all their camera equipment, and called for a truck to tow away their vehicle. When they screamed about their rights, we could see the officers showing them the clear "no trespassing" signs they had to pass to come up the driveway behind us.
When they looked at the cameras, they discovered that they had caught Dr Schwartz telling them, in absolutely clear language, that they were to get off his property immediately or face criminal charges.
Once they got the crew all cuffed and the equipment was being inventoried, the officers came up to the house to get our statements, and to be thanked by the Schwartz family.
Thirty minutes later, the gate at the end of the driveway was locked, and the tow truck had left, along with the police.
We were all too shaken to do much else at that point, but I still got Kate to drive me back down to the garage to pick up the convertible. I had put the top up before I had gone down, so it was easy to take. We split up, once we left the parking deck. Kate headed home, and I went to the Jenkins' house. I was worried about Maggie.
I needn't have worried, although she was tearfully relieved to see me come in, frantically wrapping herself around me, to make love with her on the couch, followed by tears, as she cried out the fear that she had been in all day. Maggie was still not protected, but she REALLY did not want me to reach for the condoms.
"Won't I be already carryin' your baby, now?" she said. "Can't I tell it already? Aren't I as please as anythin' about it?" she said happily. If that meant what I thought it meant, Maggie thought she might be pregnant already, and was very happy to be so.
Either way, it was more than my willpower could resist, and I was soon squirting more of the magical baby stuff in her, as she squealed her happiness.
After, when she had cried out her tensions, and fallen asleep, I tucked a blanket around her, and checked the security indicators. All looked good, but I found out later that the guards had a fairly busy night.
Between the gates, the sensors, and the paid security service, no one was coming near the place. A camera van had come by earlier, and a security guard had come out to ask them to move along. When they said, rather obnoxiously, that they had a right to park where they wanted, the guard simply pointed out the "no parking" signs on both sides of the road, and indicated that they would be subject to arrest, unless they moved immediately.
They moved a quarter mile down the road, but they could see the house very clearly, and film anyone coming in or out.
The security guards were not your typical rent-a-cops. They had been recommended by the Feds, and were all retired special forces people, and they took a VERY dim view of anyone staking out their principals. When the camera crew hadn't reported back in for a few hours, the network sent a follow-up car to see what was wrong.
They found the van where it had been, and all the guys were inside it, unharmed, but they were bound, gagged, and blindfolded, and all their clothing and equipment was gone. None of them had seen anything, and no one could remember what had happened. They had been watching the house, with nothing alarming happening. The next thing they knew, they were waking up, naked, bound, gagged, and blindfolded, inside a van that was now devoid of about a quarter million dollars worth of equipment.
With one van-ful of equipment impounded, and one van-ful of equipment stolen, the network was probably beginning to wonder whether the story was really worth pursuing.