Gynophagia Chronicles: Samantha
Tuesday, September 28, 2218, 7:45 AM
Franklin High School, San Ramon, CA
Tuesday. What happens on Tuesdays? Elections happen on Tuesdays... and everything mundane... it should not have been such a memorable day. But it was. I have to go over a few of the events of the weekend just to make sense to you and even to myself, so I suppose I should do that.
On Saturday Evening we had the Carringtons Over. That was great. Mom adored Martha. Glen Carrington was very nice. He even suggested that we go out. I think I declined that, but I can't swear to it. He obviously didn't think I put him off. But my phone rang.
“Samantha, do not say my name. It's Michael Gianni.”
“Oh my God! How are you?” I asked.
“Samantha, listen to me,” Michael said. “Can you go to where you can talk without being heard? Please. It's important. There's going to be an extortion package delivered to Marcus Jackson. You have to warn him!”
“Of course. I'm on my way upstairs now. Michael, are you sure?”
“Very sure. And you have got to be careful. You are on their radar. Johnny DeSilva has a man in your house right this very minute.”
“What?”
“Sam, please, just listen to me. Glen Carrington is working with Johnny DeSilva, and Johnny just received a recording of your brother and another boy who's there engaging in illegal sexual activity. You can't trust him, Sam!”
“But... my God, how do you know this?”
“Because I just left Johnny's office. He showed it to me. He has it and he will use it against you if he can.”
“But why would he go after me? Is it because of Congressman Jackson?”
“That, yes. And the story you published that is threatening to cripple the unions. I hope you've been paying attention.”
“Yes, but why am I... I don't understand?”
“Samantha, you've taken away a lot of their power. You've rocked the boat, and they consider you dangerous.”
“Glen just asked me out!” I said, and was met with silence.
“Damn,” came the awaited answer. “You have to accept his invitation. Put him at ease, do not let on you suspect anything. Samantha... my god... I'm sorry I couldn't see you... I wish...”
“I miss you too,” I said. It was true. I did. He was the most beautiful man I had ever seen, and I truly wanted to kiss him again.
“I'll try and find a way to contact you soon. I'm sorry it had to be like this. I am so sorry...”
“I... please make it soon.”
“I'll try. I'm sorry I have to go! I still... I still feel that kiss whenever I think of you...”
The line went dead, and that last line left me breathless. I returned to Glen Carrington and tried my hardest to be pleasant. And he did ask me out again. I accepted this time, which seemed to make him very, very happy. He was handsome when he smiled. Was he really as evil as Micheal said? And how did he get video of Jimmy and Sean? Was it Sean? I don't even know.
I did get word to Marcus Jackson. I told Martha Carrington to please tell the Congressman or his wife I had to speak with either of them. The congressman called, interrupting my first phone call with Ashima in over a week. I told her who was on the line and she understood, thank goodness. When I reported what I'd been told, he asked me from who, and I told him I could not say, that it was a friend who was in real danger. He seemed dismissive. I was disappointed.
The call with Ashima was regarding my upcoming interview with President Naoroji Rao. It had to be postponed till after the U.S. Election, but would happen. He would be in Washington DC on November Tenth, two days after the Tuesday, November 8th election.
But I had a lot of work to do, pieces to write. And that afternoon I barely managed to complete them all before bed, but I did, as well as all my homework...
Monday proved to be without incident save that we were all dressed in our brand new, stylish uniforms designed by Miki. I felt a little naked especially when Miss Masters smiled at me as I walked into room 208. In Miss Emerson's history lesson, I felt a little awkward, and even more so when Miss Masters was around. I spoke with Elizabeth Lynch about her internship, and she lit up like a light bulb, speaking as if time were her enemy and she'd be rewarded for cramming three words into her mouth at a time, she was that excited. She was till taking swim lessons from Gracie, who seemed to truly like her. Elizabeth and I were not friends, but I'd come to like her as well.
Lee Anne began pressing me for more of my time. I had spent time with her Saturday on her piece about lesbian activism. It was basically to be a history piece, profiling the various efforts and the characters behind them, some known, some cloaked in secrecy. Overall, it would be an interesting piece when she put it all together.
Jenna came home late Monday evening after covering a special session of the Student Body Council. They were voting to take more action on the nude swimming issue. I was so not sure I was in favour of that anymore. But Jenna brought home the new petition, which had the word “outrage” and “objection” repeated in it along with the statement that the parent had given permission for his daughter to swim in the nude. Daddy dutifully signed nine copies at dinner. He told me to go take a shower, put on a robe, and come into the living room.
I wept as I sat there in my bathrobe with the whole family around me. I told the entire tale of what had happened on that Friday before Jake and Ashima's wedding.
“Samantha,” Daddy said. “The only way I can protect you is if you're honest. That means telling us everything we need to know about where you are, and what you are doing. Do you understand that?” I nodded.
“Stand up,” he said. I stood, my legs feeling like rubber. “Take off the robe.” I untied the belt and let the robe slip off my shoulders. “Lay over my lap.” He told me.
My nipples were hard. I could feel myself become wet. Stiffly, I moved into the position, almost crawling over him till my bottom was high and my face was planted on the couch cushion. Daddy lay his hand on my bottom, and God help me, my nethers tingled so badly! I thought I would gush on him immediately. My body was shaking with fear and my nipples... they ached. I wanted to cry! His hand was so warm on my bare bottom.
He smacked my bottom hard once. I cried, and my body was reacting. When he smacked me again, I felt it! The sting was intense, but he orgasm was more so!
I felt myself gush over his lap, but he seemed oblivious as his palm made contact again and again till he was done.
And when he was done all I could hear was my own heart beat and my raspy, whimpering gasps.
Daddy's lap was soaked. He took it with powerful grace. He held me for a moment, then passed me to Mom,who held and rocked me, and stroked my hair. I could not have felt safer than in her arms. I could have stayed there forever with her soft breasts pressing into my own. I think I actually fell asleep in her arms for a short while. I remember going up to bed with Mom's arms still around me and me still naked.
“I want to sleep in your arms, Mom,” I told her. She hugged me and kissed my cheek, holding me for a bit. Then she joined Daddy and went to bed.
Tuesday Morning and it was as if everything had been erased. I walked to school with Gracie between me and Jenna, the two of us sniping at each other till Reba caught us. Reba was bubbly and bright and giggly. Her grades had come back and she was ecstatic with them. Jenna and I were both at the top of our class, but Gracie reminded us that her grades were slipping again. Jenna and I had work to do, and Reba promised to help.
At the entrance to the school, Andrea Yates and the other student council members collected petitions. They'd delivered them to all the families who'd signed the previous one in favour the evening before, going door to door. They had stacks and stacks of them.
In the showers, we went through the routine and came out to do laps, running barefoot on the rubber track in our wet suits three laps before swim laps.
“Enough of this bullshit. We're fucking doing it today,” Andrea told me as we stood in line. Jenna was in front of her, and dove in at the whistle.
“Doing what?” I asked.
“Licking twat!” Andrea said, and licked around her lips at me to my horror. “I'm kidding!”
“Andrea!” I said. “Can you not joke about stuff like that? Please?”
“Sorry! Gawd, you're so stiff today!”
I shook my head. “What were you saying?”
“I was saying,” Andrea said, “That we're doing it today!”
I sighed, and reluctantly bit. “Doing what?”
“This!” Andrea energetically stripped off her suit in what seemed a single, quick motion, and threw it aside. Miss Bettencourt, who did not notice, blew the whistle and Andrea dove in. I noticed four other girls were wearing only their swim caps, and others were stripping off.
I looked over at Gracie on the other sided of the pool where she was helping Elizabeth.
Across the pool from me, I saw Miss Farmer stride in purposefully on her long legs from the base of the staircase, brow furled. Behind her arrived two older men that I did not recognize. Both wore expensive looking suits. One was tall and lanky, the other a full head shorter and considerably rounder. When Andrea arrived on the opposite side of the pool, Miss Farmer stopped her.
“Andrea!! Out of the pool NOW! Getchen! OUT NOW!” She proceeded to call out the other naked girls as they arrived at her end and ordered them to the bleachers, then stood with arms akimbo glaring at the rest of us before she called more girls out. In short order the entire cadre of Student Council Girls was there now, naked and looking forlorn as the rest of us did our laps.
“This is not right,” Jenna said. “It's not right.”
“Jenna!” I said, but even as I said it, Jenna stripped off.
“Those guys are on the school board!” Jenna said. “Assholes!” Jenna took her place and dove in at the whistle. Other girls were following suit, suitless.
My God! They're all risking getting culled! Instinctively I knew this. It had to have been Andrea who emailed them. The only reason they would be here is if someone did, and Andrea was the only one I could think of with the chutzpah to be so reckless. It was about a fifth of the Class of 2219 that were on the bleachers now. I saw Elizabeth stripping off next to Gracie! Gracie NO! My mind screamed at her.
I watched in horror as Gracie defiantly stripped off. The crowed of girls on the bleachers was growing. Every last one of them had frightened looks on their faces. Was I the only one noticing? I looked around frantically, watching more girls stripping off, defiance, more reckless defiance! What a story! Oh God, that was a horrible thought! Both my sisters are up there! I can't write this story! Lee Anne... no! She's up there too!
Half the class sat on the Bleachers now! More and more, they defiantly stripped off. Many of them dove into the pool, and stripped off their suits on their way back to this side, and took their places naked in line, leaving their suits floating in the water.
I was next. The whistle sounded. I dove. I can't go home without Gracie and Jenna! I can't! I stopped in the middle of the pool and stripped off my suit. The comfort of the water on my bare skin felt glorious. I just left my suit float away, with at least a dozen others in my lane. The moment I arrived at the other side, Miss Farmer called me out angrily, and ordered me up on the bleachers.
“This is ridiculous!” Miss Bettencourt hollared at Miss Farmer. “Why are you doing this?”
“I have no choice!” Miss Farmer yelled back. “I have to maintain order in this school!”
“There was no disorder!” Miss Bettencourt protested.
“These students have no right to disobey school rules!” Yelled the shorter, rounder man, who was at least as tall as Miss Farmer. “The School Board has set policy on this issue and we have to enforce it!”
“What are you going to do,” Bettencourt yelled back. “Cull the whole senior class? Really? After all the bad press you're really going to do that? What are you, a moron?”
“Miss Bettencourt, you are treading on some seriously thin ice!”
“And you're about to land yourself in some serious hot water! Want to know how many New York Times sports reporters will take my call? You're about to find out!”
There was a long silence as the roundish man and Miss Bettencourt stared each other down. It would take forty eight hours to get a cull order for a teacher. In that time Miss Bettencourt could call down a good sized press corps to cover the story, and that had to be running through the School Boardman's mind.
“What do you suggest we do?” The man folded his arms.
“Accept it! Admit you made a mistake and accept what the parents have supported all along!”
“That's unacceptable!”
“Really? Maybe Sports Editor Rob Wiesler at the San Francisco Chronicle would be interested to know that you have ignored who you work for and had considered culling all their daughters in defiance of their will! I'm not kidding, Mr. Nichols! You back off, or I'm dialing every single reporter I know!”
Mr. Nichols' face was red with fury, his fists at his sides and he reminded me of Jenna when she was five and wasn't getting her way. I expected him to start stomping his feet.
“This isn't over!” Mr. Nichols said. “Harry! Let's go.”
“Mr. Nichols!” Miss Farmer said.
“What?” Mr. Nichols snapped as he wheeled to face her.
“What... what do you want me to do?”
Mr. Nichols was shaking he as so furious. “Ask her!” He bellowed, and stormed off.
Miss Farmer watched as the two men hurried up the staircase and through the girls and exited through the girls' locker room. Once they were gone, she turned and faced Miss Bettencourt with a poker face. She reached up, and ripped away her own blouse, buttons flying. In only seconds she was as naked as the rest of! Her body was beautiful. Her back was slender, her large breasts hung from her chest and were beautifully round and succulent looking. Her hips flared so that her bottom looked very round over her long legs. We watched in perfect silence as she stripped off. She turned to us when she was completely naked, her arms out to her sides palms forward, displaying herself.
Her sharply sculpted face broke into the most honest smile I'd ever seen on her and she turned, and took four easy strides and dove into the pool! The rest of us cheered and instinctively made our way in, following her lead! We played, we chased, we splashed, we dunked and we had as glorious a moment as I had ever experienced! Sorting out who's suit was who's at the end of the period was a challenge... but it was more than worth it.
I didn't write the news story, but I contributed to Lee Anne's efforts. It was only fair, since she was braver than me...
Oh, and when we arrived back at the showers, the water was warm!
Miss Farmer was grinning ear to ear as we turned it on and had a mild celebration.
“This was the concession the board was hoping would diffuse the situation,” she told us.
I wasn't the only one who watched her as she showered. I caught Lee Anne, Jenna, Gracie and Elizabeth making eyes at her towering beauty before I saw that most of the rest were looking at her with adoring eyes.
We made our way to class as normal. Miss Masters was there at the door grinning as everyone was.
“Congratulations, Andrea!” Miss Masters told the beaming girl as beaming, giddy Andrea passed. Andrea kissed Miss Master's cheek and went in.
Kylie Kim and Lea Carlton were kneeling on the counter under the windows, peering out as I came into the room. I was watching them as I took my seat. The two Home Economics majors were notorious gossips and I didn't have much to do with them. They were nice enough, but if you wanted word to get out about someone, all you had to do was mention it to them. Of course, that never worked for anything important. Their favourite target was poor Friday Durham, who, Gracie tells me, they torture mercilessly in Home Ec.
Paula Jimenez joined them. “Wow! What's that?” said the curvy blonde. The three big-butted girls had their faces planted against the windows and rumps prominently sticking out back.
I was mildly annoyed by their behavior as I took my seat and pulled out my PDA and homework. On my PDA was an email from none other than Sheila Jackson. I opened it. “Hubby is making his big speech today at 9:30 your time! Watch if you can! It's going to be huge!”
“What are you girls doing up there?” Miss Masters called to the girls, taking my attention away from my PDA. “Get down!”
“There's something going on down there!” Said Kylie in her singsong voice.
“I don't care,” Miss Masters said. “Get down!”
“Seriously, Miss Masters,” said Paula. “There's something going on down there! It looks like a protest.”
“Ridiculous,” said Miss Masters. “Down!” But even as Miss Masters ordered them down, she went to look herself, kneeling up on the counter as they had. “What the...” She climbed down. “Everyone stay here. I'll be right back,” Miss Masters hurried out of the room and everyone, and I do mean everyone, was up on the counter not a moment later.
It was a protest. Before our eyes it doubled in size as people, mostly women I think, hurried in carrying signs. “Unfair Treatment” “Criminal Persecution” “Slaves to Lies” “Liars in the News” were painted on big signs on long sticks. Almost all of them wore bandanas covering their faces.
A San Ramon Police car showed up, and the female officer stepped out and put on her helmet, then stood at the open car door talking on her radio. Two others arrived in short order with another female than a large male officer.
“Okay!” Miss Masters called from behind us. “I'd like everyone away from the windows please.”
Reluctantly, we all climbed down prying ourselves away from the sight.
“Everyone sit!” Miss Masters ordered. She had not left the open door to the room, which she now closed. She pressed a button and the silver projection screen descended over the black board, the blinds draped across the windows and the lights went out.
In shadows, I saw her go back to the window where it came lower next to her desk and peer outside again. She picked up the television remote and the projection TV went on showing us the cherub face of a young red headed woman on the screen..
“...from San Ramon, I'm Colleen Lassiter, KPIX News.”
“Colleen, this is Danika,” the view switched to a sharp featured blonde woman with well tanned skin. I immediately recognized Danika Grover, the KPIX News Anchor Woman who was probably the most popular news woman in the Bay Area. “Can you tell us if this is a spontaneous protest or if it was organized?”
“It appears to be spontaneous,” Colleen's face came back up. “None of the protestors I've spoken with have any instructions other than to be here, and to a woman they say that they received the call early this morning. It appears to be a reaction to the mass firings yesterday in which all Food Union workers in San Ramon and Danville were suddenly locked out.”
“Are they all local people?” Danika asked.
“No, Danika, some of them came from as far away as Stockton that I spoke with. The crowd is growning quickly and steadily. So far, we only have five police officers here, but I fully expect more to show up soon if the rate of growth keeps up.”
“Thank you, Colleen,” Danika said. “We'll be checking in with Colleen should anything develop. Again, that was Colleen Lassiter reporting from Franklin High School in San Ramon where what appears to be a spontaneous protest has developed that appears to be a response to mass firings of Food Service Union workers in San Ramon and Danville. Now let us go to the network as we are waiting on a speech by Congressman Marcus Jackson who is set to speak before a special session of congress called yesterday at Congressman Jackson's request. We have Barton Fitgerald reporting, let's go over to him now...”
“...we have Congresswoman Carmen Sanchez, Democrat from New Jersey with Congressman Richard Levine Democrat from New York. Again, this is Barton Fitzgerald, CBS News in the capitol in special session today. The special session has been requested by Congressman Marcus Jackson, Republican of California and granted by the Speaker of the House. About two thirds of the house is here and those that are not will undoubtedly listening remotely. What is more, although this is not officially a joint session of congress, ninety seven senators are present, so this, unofficially, is a joint session. And now we have Fredrika Jones, the Clerk of the 215th Congress is moving toward the podium with her gavel... Is he..? Hes I think he is about to call this session of Congress to order.”
“This meeting of the 215th congress will come to order,” Fredrika Jones said and what buzz there was in the room came to silence. She was a black woman with strong features and a deep voice. “Ladies and Gentlemen of the House of Representatives, the Speaker of the House...”
The speaker, an elderly man with gaunt features and a prominent hawk nose came to the podium.
“Ladies and Gentlemen of the House, thank you for coming. This special meeting of congress has been requested by Representative Marcus Jackson, of California's 48th congressional district and granted by the speaker of the house on special circumstances. I yield the podium to Representative Jackson.”
Marcus Jackson arrived, carrying a bible in his left hand and offering his right to the speaker. The two men shook hands and Jackson took the podium.
“Thank you Mr. Speaker. Thank you ladies and gentlemen of the 215th Congress for coming on such short notice. I am aware that many of you have disrupted your time with family and friends to be here today and it will not be forgotten. It will not be forgotten, I promise, by me, my own family, or by millions of American Citizens.
“On Saturday, I received word that there was an imminent threat to my own family, specifically my wife, my concubine and my daughters. A set of photographs were delivered to my doorstep of my wife and my concubine engaged in activity illegal in every State of the Union. That is, sexual intimacy between the two of them. My immediate response was fear. Fear for my wife, my concubine and my daughters. Exposure of them would mean immediate culling as most of you well know.
“Many of you are well aware that my good friend, and colleague from across the isle, Representative Sanchez of the Great State of New Jersey has been hard at work crafting legislation to repeal the federal mandate that requires all states to criminalize lesbian intimacy. Her plan was to introduce this legislation at the beginning of the next 216th Congress in January of next year. What most of you do not know is that I was not only to cosponsor that legislation, but that with Congresswoman Sanchez, my wife, my concubine and I, myself, worked together to carefully craft that legislation. I had pleaded with her to introduce it before the election, early next month, so that it will be an issue the entire country might vote on.”
There was applause, mostly polite, but a few enthusiastically stood and applauded.
“Well, circumstances have thrown that plan out the window,” Jackson continued when the applause died down. “As I previously said: it was Saturday that I received a warning that I would be a victim of extortion. I tacitly accepted this warning, not quite believing. But I spoke to Congresswoman Sanchez and she suggested a course of action should it come to pass. We completed our proposed legislation and we have added another which will be entered today, and voted upon after debate has concluded, also today.
“It came to pass on Sunday evening that I received the envelope with the photographs I have previously described. Every day, hundreds, if not thousands, of beautiful women and girls are culled, not because they lost the lottery, not because of poor academics or overeating. They are put to death for kissing another girl. That's it! Just kissing another girl. That is enough to order conversion.
“Ladies and Gentlemen of the House, I submit to you that we are losing our best and brightest with these conversions. That we are diminishing the quality of our beloved daughters' short lives and diminishing our country by exterminating some of our most intelligent and energetic and fit women. Bisexuality is not a disease among women. I submit to you that it is the natural state of the human female. That a woman's bodies was built to receive love and a woman should have every opportunity to experience it with whom so ever will give it to her.”
The applause from half the house was robust with only a few of the rest sitting on their hands. This was on both sides of the isle.
“I bring before you my proposed bill. This bill will do the following. It will eliminate all requirements that lesbian behavior, when discovered, result in automatic conversion. It will allow single women to cohabitate and be dependent upon one another for the purposes of taxation. It will allow men to take a daughter as a concubine. This last item, as you well know, is already allowed in four states, but is common practice among many others.
“Our nation is dependent upon an abundance of healthy, energetic women. They produce our children and provide our food. It is incumbent upon us to, as law makers, to protect the best and the brightest so that we will produce better and brighter in the future.
“Ladies and Gentlemen of the House. I further propose a stay on all cullings for lesbian activity throughout the nation until this matter is resolved. Upon Passage, President Davis has graciously promised to sign this stay into law upon its approval.
“Some of you will say that I, as the husband and master of two women who are involved in a sexual relationship, am only out to protect his own interests. And you would be correct that I am intent on protecting my family. But protecting my own interest is enlightened self interest, my friends. It is a very American thing to do. For in my effort to protect my own self interest, I am seeking to protect many of yours. Many... of yours.
“Mister Speaker, I yield the floor.”
“And there you have it,” Barton Fitzgerald appeared on screen again. “Congressman Jackson has delivered his speech and sent two bills up for debate. One of which will decriminalize Lesbian Sexual Activity nation wide, and the other will put a stay on the culling of any lesbian activity for the duration of debate. Lets... what? It looks like... yes there's some action on the floor, let's go back to Congressman Bishop, the Speaker of the House.”
“...Debate on House Bill 3265 will begin upon having voted on House Bill 3264. Miss Jones. If you would be so kind... Congressman Richardson, you do not have the floor!”
“I apologize Mr. Speaker. But a short word... if I may!”
“The honourable gentleman from Oklahoma has sixty seconds.”
“I submit to you, Mr.. Speaker, that there is enough support for House Bill 3265 to pass without debate. With respect, sir, I submit to you that we could save valuable time by going straight to a vote on both.”
“Noted...” said the Speaker. “Are there any objections to going straight to vote on House Bill 3264?...” The Speaker waited. “Are there any objections to going straight to a vote on House Bill 3265?...” Again, the speaker waited. “All those voting against House Bill 3264, raise hands... Miss Jones?”
“Ninety Seven against, Mr. Speaker.”
“All those in favour, please raise hands.” Again, the speaker paused. “Yes Miss Jones?”
“Three Hundred ten in favour, Mr. Speaker.”
“House Bill 3264 passes and shall be submitted to the Senate,” there was some commotion. “The Gallery will come to order! The gallery will come to order or it will be cleared!” The speaker waited as some angry protestors visitors were escorted out of the gallery above the floor. “Let us move on... all those opposed to House Bill 3265, please show your hands... Miss Jones?”
“Sir... we have... One Hundred Seventy opposed.”
“All those in favour of House Bill 3265, please show hands.” He nodded to Miss Jones.
“Two hundred thirty seven, Mister Speaker.”
“House Bill 3265 Passes and advances to the Senate. Ladies and Gentlemen... thank you...”
“And there you have it,” Barton Fitgerald appeared again. “We have Senator Jefferson Garvey, senior senator from California. Thank you for joining us, Senator.”
“Thank you for having me.”
“Marcus Jackson is seeing election to assume your seat in the Senate against your former chief of staff, so let us acknowledge, Jackson is a political opponent of yours.”
“I have, of course, endorsed Dillon Kramer for my seat.”
“But, what is your impression of Congressman Jackson's speech?”
“I thought it was well delivered and well timed. The votes for and against the measure very much reflect the will of the people in their respective constituencies. In this month, the electorate is certainly going to remember which way their representative voted, and the members are well aware of it.”
“How different will this be in the Senate?”
“The senate is different in that less than a third are facing election, and of those that are, very few are in danger of being defeated. It has far less of a chance of passage in the Senate. If it does pass, it will be very close, but I believe it will be defeated. I don't think there is enough support.”
“And where do you stand on the issue, Senator?”
“I have yet to read the bill. But based on what Mister Jackson described, I'm not entirely opposed. I will have to read the bill to be sure it is the right thing to do.”
“Senator, what about the stay, House Bill 3264? Will you vote to stay cullings for the duration should the full bill be stalled?”
“Again, I will have to read the bill. I believe, if it specifies a short term stay with a hard expiration date, I will probably vote for it. If not, I'm sure it won't pass. The Senate is very leery of law meant to be temporary that does not have a well defined duration... yes... I'm being called to the Senate floor.”
“Thank you, Senator. That was Senator Jefferson Garvey, senior Senator from California commenting on the house passage of...”
Miss Masters turned down the sound. There was abject silence in the room. She flipped the switch next to the door and the room lit up with lights and sunlight streaming through the windows. She went to the black board and picked up a piece of chalk and began wrote across the top: “HB3265.”
“I've called up the bill and Congressman Jackson's speech. All of you will find it on your PDA. Miss Nichols, please call it up, and begin reading...”
“Yes, Ma'am,” said Lauren. “Uhm...”
“Start with the summary,” Miss Masters said.
“The House of Representatives finds the following,” Lauren Nichols began. She read the entire summary and Miss Masters stopped her. As Lauren had read, Miss Masters wrote the actions the bill would take on the board.
“This bill, if it passes, affects us all... Everyone remembers the interview Samantha conducted with Congresswoman Sanchez? We read that interview in class and since we have seen a divide amongst the student body. Thankfully, Miss Yates has lead the charge to re-establish harmony among the students, and it has worked! Now. What I want to know is this. If this bill passes, we're going to see women kissing women in public!”
“Ewww!” two girls made that sound.
“I see we have some objections! Let's have it, Miss Kim.”
“I mean, that's just gross!”
“Is it? You mean you never went to a slumber party?”
“Yes... sure...”
“How many of you have been to a slumber party?” Every girl in the room raised their hand, as well as Miss Masters. “And how many of you have been to a slumber party where you practiced kissing?” Miss Masters kept her hand up. “Really? Nobody? Gracie... good... Samantha, Reba... good... it's a rite of passage! It's something girls do when they're growing up! Is it gross?”
“No!” Andrea blurted. “It's not gross! It's like Congressman Jackson said: it's natural!”
“It is not!” Kylie Kim objected.
“It is so! And I know who's house I was at the first time, Kylie! You practiced with Ophelia!”
Ophelia Hemingway sunk in her chair, turning a bright shade of pink.
“You shouldn't be embarrassed, Ophelia,” Miss Masters instantly reacted to Ophelia's discomfort. “There is no reason to be embarrassed! How many of you knew it could get you culled when you did it? Nobody! Doesn't surprise me at all. But now that you know it can land you on someone's dinner plate it's wrong. Your parents tell you it's gross! Your teachers forbid you from doing it,and yes, I forbid you from doing it!” She was looking directly at me as she paused, with a look in her eyes that appeared a little sad.
Gracie raised her hand and Miss Masters nodded to her.
“Miss Masters, the bill passed. Doesn't that mean it's okay now?”
“No,” Miss Masters said. “It does not. It will be okay once it is passed by the United States Senate and signed by the President of the United States. Then it will be okay. Ophelia?”
“My father says that Lesbians caused the big war.”
“Well,” Miss Masters said. “That's deeply embedded in history, and there are a lot of people who believe that to be true. But it was not so much girls having sex with girls that caused it. The real blame was women who simply hated men entirely, and diminished society to the point where men were no longer allowed to be men. This country almost ceased to exist because we had very few men to defend us. It is also why men having sex with other men is illegal and will get a boy and his entire family converted. Reba?”
“Miss Masters, have you ever had sex with a man?”
The question hung in the air, and Miss Masters had a sad look on her face.
“No,” she said simply. Then she walked over to the blackboard and wrote “few men available” at the bottom of the list of issues. “And that is one thing that this bill addresses. How few men are available! We all need love, and how can we get it if...”
“May I have your attention please,” the speaker over the door sounded. “If you don't already know, there is a protest going on outside the school. As a result, and for teacher and student safety, all students are to remain in their home rooms till further notice. The new kitchen staff will deliver lunches to all teachers and students. Please remain in your classrooms until the situation is cleared. Thank you.”
For long moments the only sound was the sound of the crowd outside. Everyone in the room were getting scared, and it showed on their faces. I was frightened. I felt my body react to my own fear. I could feel the moisture building up inside me and my nipples began to ache a little. I excused myself to go to the water closet and made my way in. I cleaned myself, and found a tampon to soak up the moisture. I relieved myself, and cleaned up again. Checked myself in the mirror. I felt horrible and I looked it. My reptilian green eyes stared back at me with dark circles under them. I brushed my hair and made my way out.
“...so call up page one sixteen... Samantha, Supreme Court: The Landmarks, page 116,” Miss Masters told me. “And... Samantha, why don't you start, second paragraph.”
It took me only a second to open the page on my PDA. “Of all the cases which have, in the last century, defined the supreme court, Harlan vs. The State of Virginia stands apart. The case started in the a small municipal court in Virginia involving what should have been a simple case involving a husband and a father in law over child custody. The Father, his wife having been converted, assumed he had full rights to the children. However, the father, having married his wife when she was only fourteen years of age, and still legally the property of her father, could not provide any evidence that the marriage was given sanction by his father in law. This resulted in the marriage being illegal in the State of Virginia, and all children produced by the woman would be property of their grand father...”
“May I have your attention please,” Lisa's voice came over the loudspeaker again. “The president of the United States is about to speak to the congress on this morning's vote.”
I looked up at Miss Masters who shrugged.
“Well, I guess she thinks it's important...” Miss Masters said. “Are we enjoying our day so far, ladies?” Miss Masters grinned and received nervous giggles that relieved a bit of the tension in the room as she went back to the door frame with the remote in her hand. The TV Came down again. The room went dark, again. The president was already on at the podium.
“...this unprecedented action. Some fear that it will alter our nation. I say, it will! It will alter it! It will better it!” There was applause. “It is my honour to be here with you today at your invitation. And it is my honour to sign this bill, The Feminine Affection Protection Act, into law!”
Like bumps on logs we sat there absorbing what we had just heard. Miss Masters moved across the room, almost tripping with her face pointed only at the television, and took her seat. The only sound coming off the television was the applause from those in the congress.
“What happened?” Someone asked. “What just happened?”
“It means you can kiss girls!” Kylie Kim said snarkily.
Miss Master's head whipped around and glared at Kylie. There were tears streaming down her face.
“You know, Kylie, you really are starting to make me very upset!” Miss Masters said. “You really do not want to see me upset!”
“Hey, Isn't that Carmen Sanchez?” Andrea asked.
Sure enough. On the screen, Carmen Sanchez was on television being interviewed by a female reporter. Miss Masters turned it up.
“...I could not be more happy this happened!” Congresswoman Sanchez was saying. She looked a little older then I remembered her. Perhaps she was just looking tired. She had black hair and olive toned fair skin with sleepy dark eyes and very full lips. Her hispanic heritage was evident.
“Congresswoman, you stated early this month that any legislation addressing lesbianism would take time to sell to the American people. Something dramatic must have happened. What was it?”
“First, I object to your use of the word 'lesbianism'. It insults this bill and it insults those of us that wrote the bill and it insults those that voted for it. The issue was never about lesbianism. It has always been about the criminalization of intimacy between women and girls.”
“I understand, Congresswoman. So, regarding this bill, which you indicated would take time to help Americans understand, what was it that changed that cuased this unprecedented action by Congress AND, by the President?”
“Several members of congress were being threatened with extortion by organized crime. It is an open secret that my father's concubine and I are also lovers and that my father is, though not biologically, acting as father to my own daughters. As an elected official, I am protected by law, from culling for any reason, and the City fathers of Wildwood, New Jersey have been extraordinarily understanding of my cause and, though they may not be supporters of it, they have very graciously looked the other way where the residents of Wildwood have been concerned. The issue was never me or my family. Congressman Jackson's family is not so protected. He received word from one of your colleagues, investigative reporter Samantha Wells of PEG Wire that he was about to receive a threat. That was on Saturday Evening. Marcus gets threats all the time, as we all do, and he only tacitly gave this one any weight. But he did call me and ask how I felt about fast tracking this bill. So we met here at the Capitol and hammered out the language. Sunday night that threat arrived in the form of photographs of his wife, Sheila Jackson, and Lydia Foss, who have been lovers for about a year. Lydia is seventeen and is just now pregnant with her first litter by Marcus. They want to move her in.”
Investigative Reporter? Now I'm an Investigative Reporter? When my name came up, every head in the room whipped around and faced me. They all had big eyes.
“We'll interrogate Samantha later!” Miss Masters said. “Pay attention!”
“You mentioned Samantha Wells,” The interviewer continued. “Some in the media have suggested that her interview of you published last month was what started this in motion. The New York Times website called it 'The Match that Lit the fuse.'”
“Looking back, it probably was. I could not say, exactly. I have been focused largely on bigger issues. There's policy to be set on South Africa. We have the trade agreement with Brazil. And labour Laws have become an enormous issue, as you well know. We've been dealing with all that with our noses to the grind stone. So this bill was definitely on the back burner. But in the background, this issue was certainly being whispered about. When the interview with Marcus Jackson was published on the same topic, it certainly caused a stir. But that was almost a month ago. When Sheila called me, I was quite taken aback about it.”
“Would you call Samantha Wells an activist?”
“I've seen no evidence that she is or is not. She came to me as a journalism student and I was impressed with her. She's asked me probing questions that can be very difficult to evade. You read that interview, I'm sure! I tried, and obviously failed, to be a little more discrete in my responses. The questions in that interview were the model for the week that followed. It's all anyone wanted to speak with me about.”
“You mentioned Lydia Foss. Is she related to in any way to Bernard Foss of Playpen Magazine?”
“I believe Lydia is Mr. Foss' daughter. I haven't met him, however so I could not say.”
“Congresswoman Sanchez, thank you so much for your time. And congratulations on this victory.”
“Thank you, Marie. It's been a pleasure.”
“Congresswoman Carmen Sanchez of Wildwood, New Jersey,” said the interviewer. “Again, the Feminine Intimacy Protection Act has been submitted to and passed by the United States Congress and signed by President Davis all in less than three hours. We're still looking into it, but our historical advisers are telling us this may have never happened before. When we come back we'll be talking with Republican Congressman James Kardassian who sits on the House Ways and Means Committee to get his thoughts on this unprecedented day. I'm Marie Belford and this is CBS News.”
Commercials came up and Miss Masters turned down the sound, and turned up the lights without opening the blinds. I checked the clock on my PDA. It was nearly noon.
There was a knock at the door and Miss Emerson appeared. She was grinning ear to ear. She looked around, straight at me, and did a gesture with her shoulders coming up and her neck seeming to retracted into her shoulders with her eyes squinted shut, her already big grin seeming to get bigger for only a moment. Miss Masters met her, and they whispered to each other for a few minutes. Miss Masters never smiled, but Miss Emerson never lost her giddy grin. Finally the door closed, and Miss Masters turned back to the class.
“Miss Emerson just told me they're bringing lunch up now. It's just going to be a simple fried rice dish with tofu. I hope everyone is okay with that. The protest kept the food delivery from coming in in time today...”
CRASH! The sound of a lot of glass breaking made us all jump. It did not happen in our room, but it was loud enough to be very close. Then something came through one of our windows. It was flaming and crashed against the wall opposite the windows near the floor. Fire erupted immediately and everyone screamed!
Gracie was the only one with her head on straight. She ran to the fire extinguisher and had the flame doused before it did any real damage. The fire alarm was going off!
“Attention Students and Faculty,” was all I could make out. The rest of it was lost in the panicked commotion.
“GIRLS!” Mrs. Masters was as frightened as the rest of us. “GIRLS STOP!” She had her arms up stretched standing in front of the door blocking us from exiting in panic. “Everyone, let's get to the back wall away from the windows. Gracie, keep that thing with you! Back wall... let's go... huddle down!”
I was huddled between Ophelia and Kylie. I certainly didn't feel any safer, and the tension was palpable. Ophelia was humming to herself, and Kylie was crying openly.
“What do you want us to do?” Miss Masters was on her phone. “No, we couldn't hear it... I meant just that! Just tell us what you want us to do! Okay! Okay! Okay! Yes!” Miss Masters flipped her phone shut. “Okay, ladies, we're going to the Girl's locker room. Right now it's the safest place, and the police are setting up a barrier so we can all get home! As soon as I get up, I want you to follow me single file, single file now! And we'll walk downstairs to the locker room. Ready? Let's go!”
We stood. We sort of marched quickstep. I saw Miss Levin leading her class in the same fashion. There were several boys in her class, and two of them were carrying girls in their arms. The locker room was halfway sunken below ground level and there were three ways for us to get there: via the central stairs, or via one of the side stair cases at each end of the building. The basement hallway was only an escape route. No one was allowed in there. Today we filed through. The door to the girls' locker room lay open, and we crowded in. It seemed like the entire school was in the massive locker room. We were pressed in like sardines. A police officer stood on top of the central row of lockers and was clapping his hands getting everyone's attention.
“Listen Up!” He called. “We're going to be taking you out those doors there and across the field. You are to follow across the field and through the teacher's apartment complex to Mastiff Street. From there, you will wait. We have that street blocked off so that nobody can get in. Where is Samantha Wells?”
“She's right here!” Miss Masters called, holding up my arm.
“Are you her teacher? Who?” he had his hand on his earpiece.
“Francine Masters,” Miss Masters called.
“Miss Masters. Are you Miss Masters?”
“Yes!”
“Bring the girl to that door now!” He pointed to the double doors at ground level that lead out onto the field.
“Come, Sam,” Miss Masters said. She took my arm and lead me as she pushed through the dense crowd. Finally we arrived.
“So,” There were three officers there. “Here's the deal. Sweeney, you lead, and you, Miss Masters, you follow in him in your car. You're going to drive right up Cheetoh to Beagle. Go south on Beagle, four blocks, then get over on Alsation. If you have nobody following, go north. If you have anyone following, go south. Go the long way around then Get Samantha Wells home. What's your address, Miss Wells?”
“Ee... eleven ten, beagle,” I stuttered.
“Eleven ten... that's north and east of here... more north than east. Five blocks up, two over, right? That's a little close. We'll get the rest of the Wells children home. In the meantime, Miss Farmer, I want you to sequester them in the Teacher's residence. Can you do that?”
“Absolutely.”
“What's going on?” I asked Miss Masters. She just shook her head.
“Don't ask questions. Just listen. Miss Masters, Samantha Wells. You are both to make a mad dash to Miss Master's car. You follow Officer Sweeney. His Unit is parked right next to your car. You keep up! He will be driving fast with lights on. You keep pace with him and you will be just fine! Sweeney, you ready? Miss Masters, you ready? Miss Wells, you ready? Soon as I open the door, you go go go... got it?” He swung open the door “GO! GO! GO!”
We ran. My hand in Miss Master's hand, we ran following the burly darkly clad Policeman. Sure enough, there was a squad car right next to Miss Master's car, which was parked on the street. The field was, of course, surrounding by a chain link fence, and the gate was narrow, but we ran through it.”
“Hey! That's her!” Someone yelled out loud! “That's Samantha Wells!”
I looked and saw a sea of people surging toward us down the street.
“Get in the car!” Officer Sweeney yelled. “Get in the car!”
The car was facing the mob. And the officer's lights went on as soon as he got in. I was struggling to open the passenger's side door. Miss Master's unlocked it finally and I got in. As soon as the car was started, the squad car next to us sped off, and Miss Masters' struggled to keep up. The whole left side of the street was packed with bandana masked people. Some of them banged on Miss Master's tiny car as we passed. A rock hit it. We sped through the stop sign and went two more blocks, with the crowd running after us all the way. They seemed to keep up even though we were moving at at least thirty five kph! The squad car turned right, and so did we. The tiny car seemed to be on two wheels going around the corner. Up four blocks, then we turned again, left this time, going east. Left again after one block, and north. I just happened to recognize Lee Anne's house. We were on Alsation, the street behind our house.
The Squad car made a right turn after two blocks and came to a stop. He came out of the squad car and walked back, talking into the microphone slung to his ear. He came to our car on the driver's side and crouched down, pointing a spinning finger down for Miss Masters to roll down the window.
“The Chief says it worked, said Officer Sweeney.”
“What worked?”
“We were hoping to break up the crowd, getting them to follow us. You guys were the bait,” he said. “You did good, Miss Masters. You too, Miss Wells!”
“Bait? Why us? Why were we bait?”
“Not you,” the officer said. “Her. She was the bait. It stretched out the crowd, made them easier to disperse. The highway patrol has arrived to assist and we're in the clear. I need to get back there. You can get Miss Wells home?”
“Sure,” Miss Masters said. “Nice of you to tell us we were bait.... why Samantha, anyway?”
“You didn't see the signs? 'Kill Samantha the Liar' they had up! They were out for blood!”
My jaw dropped.
“Anyway,” Officer Sweeney said. “Get her home. Everything's under control now.”
“Christ!” Miss Masters swore as the officer left us. “Can the drama get any thicker? I mean... really?”
I just smiled, shrugged, and shook my head.
“I guess I should take it in stride too...” Miss Masters said. She took my hand, pulled it up to her chest and placed it on her sternum. I thought there was something else going on for a moment, but no, she just wanted me to feel her heartbeat. It was hammering in her chest.
I nodded. “Yes... me too...” I said, and put her hand on my own sternum.”
“Well... one thing's for sure,” Miss Masters said. “There won't be too many culls for a while. They'll be well stocked. Participating in a violent protest is a felony. The supermarkets will have cheap meat for weeks...” Miss Masters sat back and breathed. We sat in silence for a few minutes till she finally broke it. “I wanted to apologize to you.”
“For what?”
Miss Masters shook her head. “For the way we got so carried away the other day... we... I don't know. I think we all hoped to seduce you... I just didn't know it would be so... aggressive... and you were so scared... and... I'm really sorry. We didn't mean to force you like that.”
I thought about it. “I just...”
“You just what?” She asked after I didn't finish.
“I just wish my mom had been there...” I said.
Miss Masters had a confused look on her face. Then she smiled. “Well... let's get you home, then.”
She put the car in gear and we went north on Alsation a few blocks. Then we saw the smoke. There was a fire. It was a big one! She turned the corner left, then right onto Beagle and I saw it!
My home! Our home was gone! In its place was a massive column of flame!
“MOOM!” I screamed. “MOOM!” I tried to get out of the car, but Miss Masters fought me, keeping me in. I was hysterical and only aware that my house was gone and my Mommy was dead!
There were rioters outside! Police cars were there. One of the rioters threw a rock our way and it landed on the hood. They were charging the car. Miss Masters threw the car into reverse, wheels screeching and backed into a perfect one eighty degree slide.
We drove, and drove. Miss Masters had no idea where to go that would be safe, so she hit the freeway and headed south to Dublin. We pulled off in front of a car dealership just off I680 and she parked, where I cried and she held me for a long time.