Gynophagia Chronicles: Samantha
Monday, September 21, 2218, 9:30 AM
Franklin High School, San Ramon, CA
Narative Reconstructed by Peter Howard
Do I have everything? Elizabeth Lynch was as giddy and excited as she could possibly be. She was on her way out of School, and there was not a better day for it. The chaos this morning had locked the school down, and guess who was being blamed? Samantha Wells! Elizabeth knew fuck all what was going on except that there were a lot of angry parents, reporters and police. The kitchen Staff was detained, and the story of how Sloan and Miss Bauer were terminated was the source of a lot of gossip. They were cut up alive, someone said. Flayed and cooked, they died screaming! They were subjects of an experiment. They were murdered to cover up something they saw. They were Samantha's secret lesbian lovers and she had them killed to save herself.
The taxi delivered Elizabeth to the campaign office in less than fifteen minutes. It was a short run up I680 and off the freeway in Danville. She gave the voucher to the cabbie and stepped out, going straight to the door and pushing inside.
“Hi,” said a pretty big haired blonde who's other two features were a toothy smile and cleavage, lots of cleavage. The nameplate on her desk said “Cindy Livingston.”
“Miss Livingston? I'm Elizabeth Lynch.”
“Cute accent! Are you Scottish?”
“Irish, Miss.”
“Okay, Irish Miss, welcome to the Danville Campaign Headquarters for Congressman Dillon Kramer. Did they inform you what your job would be?”
“No, ma'am. I was just told to come and do what was needed.”
“Good! That's very good. You are the first to arrive, so let me get you started right away...”
That meant stuffing mailers. The other three girls arrived shortly thereafter. They were nice enough, but not very diligent. For some reason they had imagined they would be partying instead of working, and made their dissatisfaction clear. Elizabeth kept quiet. She could see Miss Livingston glance over from time to time with a frown on her face. She'd stride by, heavy bosom bouncing in her bra under her Cashmere cardigan, casting a dubious look upon the four girls. By eleven o'clock, the regular volunteers began arriving. Not one of them interacted with the girls at the mailer table, but they were certainly interested in what went on there. They'd look our way and whisper to one another. It made Elizabeth terribly nervous.
At one o'clock, Miss Livingston came to our table.
“I called cabs for you girls to take you back to your school. As soon as they arrive, you'll be done for the day. Thank you very much, ladies.”
Elizabeth continued to work diligently, quite upset at the way things had transpired. The other three girls simply chatted, doing nothing else. The three were picked in fairly short order. When the last of them were gone, Miss Livingston came back to the table.
“Elizabeth, right?” Miss Livingston said.'
“Yes, Ma'am.”
“And you're going to Franklin High in San Ramon?”
“Yes Ma'am.”
“How many mailers did you complete?”
“I filled two and a half bins,” Elizabeth said.
“You sure it wasn't three and a half?” Miss Livingston asked. “It doesn't matter. You completed more than the other three combined. They won't be back, by the way. But I would appreciate it if you would. Can you come two nights a week?”
“I... I'm sure I can,” Elizabeth said.
“Okay, Irish Miss,” Miss Livingston said. “Your skills include proof reading. Can I have you look at this?” She handed Elizabeth a sheet of paper. “It's Congressman Kramer's statement on the whole affair at your school.”
“Of course, Ma'am!” Elizabeth was giddy. Proof reading a speech?
“If you see any innacuracies, make sure you note them. Dill... I mean Congressman Kramer is at your school right now assessing the situation there.”
“Really?”
“He is. Why don't you sit down and take a look at that.”
“Yes Ma'am,” Elizabeth said. She sat down and read the speech. Mouthing the words as quietly as possible. It flowed horribly, and Samantha's surname was spelled wrong. It wasn't Weltz, it was Wells. Where did that come from? Elizabeth started making notes, but in the end, she had to rewrite it. She retrieved a blank sheet of paper, and in pencil she wrote, speaking the words aloud, but softly as she did so.
“What happened here Friday cannot stand. All of us must take this incident in and know with certainty that this tragedy could have happened to any one of our precious daughters. We cannot be tolerant of cruelty or we shall see it more of it more often. Action is needed so that this will never happen again and action is needed now!”
She handed the sheet to Miss Livingston who received it with a frown.
“What's this?”
“I'm sorry, Miss Livingston. I'm not meaning to presume anything, but I wanted to make sure Mr. Kramer had a short speech that would flow well. I had to re-write it.”
Miss Livingston took the sheet and read it aloud. It was half as long as the original, and only four sentences instead of the nine Elizabeth could not salvage.
“It's short,” Miss Lynch said. “Okay... let me feed this to Mrs. Kramer and see what she says.”
“Yes, Ma'am.”
“Would you mind stuffing some more of those mailers?”
“No ma'am. Of course not.”
Elizabeth returned to the table, as the eight women who were at their desks clucked and watched her. They're thinking I'm done as well, Elizabeth knew. She began stuffing envelopes again. There was no help for it. She'd overstepped.
The sound of a press conference invaded Elizabeth's senses. Congressman Shultz (D) of San Francisco was on the the 60 inch TV set hanging on the wall. It had been just a painting, or so Elizabeth had thought. Shultz made some inane comments then yielded to his collegue, Congressman Kramer.
““What happened here Friday cannot stand,” Kramer began. “All of us, every single one of us, must take this incident in and know with certainty that this tragedy could have happened to any one of our precious daughters. We cannot be tolerant of cruelty or we shall see it more of it more often. Action is needed so that this will never happen again and action is needed now!”
There was applause from whoever was gathered, it roared out of the TV speakers and the women in the office were overjoyed. They celebrated. Kramer's face was on the screen taking it in with the stern look of a natural leader or a good politician. Kramer took questions from the press about what he intended to do. He spoke of crafting legislation targeting the problem at its source, illegal immigration.
“That was a good speech,” Miss Livingston said.
“It was great!” one of the other woman said. “Who wrote that?”
“The new girl did,” said Miss Livingston. “Maybe she'll do it again...”
Elizabeth almost lost her bladder with joy...