Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Hanna - Chapter 1



   Love Discovered



   A Tale of Romance by The Star





   [AUTHOR'S NOTE: Generally speaking, I get very irritated with authors
who post stories "in progress" and then don't finish them.  So, in the case
of "Hanna", I am warning all my readers in advance: I do not know if I will
EVER finish this story!  I have this, and a couple more chapters, that I
expect can be whipped into shape rapidly.  Beyond that...  nothing.  I
would almost keep these chapters on my hard drive, but a couple of friends
have persuaded me that there are those out there who would enjoy them, as
far as they go.



   Having said all that, I hope you enjoy this.  It is story, not stroke.
You've been warned.  :-)



   The Star <extar@earthlink.net> (c) 1998 - 2003]







   Sparks were flying from the ends of her auburn braids, as well as her
sea-green eyes.



   Damn, she was magnificent!



   I was sure glad her rage was not aimed at me!





   -- + + + + + -





   Hanna and I go back a long way.  Her parents built a home on the vacant
lot next to our house when I was five.  My brothers and I were quite
interested, when they moved in, to learn that there were two girls about
our age next door.



   Although we were very conscious of boy things and played the normal
rough and tumble games, we never had the aversion to girls most of our
friends seemed to share.  Maybe it was because we had no sisters... and
thought girls were just boys who dressed funny.



   Hanna is the same age as my next brother, Derrick; her sister, Anne, is
a year younger.  Somehow, Hanna and I became close--soon, inseparable.  She
played the rough and tumble games with us... With the size advantage girls
often enjoy over their male counterparts, she could, and did, thump the
snot out of any of us whenever she wanted to.  She could run faster, too.



   Hanna got me interested in more `feminine' things--like books and
music--without making me feel any less masculine.  Her technique was to
make them fascinating... And with her, they were.



   Of course, she confirmed the stereotype of redheads and their tempers.
Boy!  When she blows up?  Nuke time!





   Although I'm the oldest son, I've always been pretty laid back, in a
`busy' way.  A curious and aggressive boy, I was still content to take
things as they come and satisfy my curiosity by watching and asking
questions.  My folks always said I was a `good boy'.



   When I was eleven, I went through a couple of those amazing growth
spurts adolescents sometimes experience.  By the time I became a teenager,
I was six feet tall and still growing.  My mom said she spent all her time
buying me new jeans to replace the new ones I'd outgrown.



   Hanna was changing, too.



   She grew tall.  Then her shape changed from `up and down' to `in and
out'.  Boy, did it!  She rapidly turned into a walking wet dream--which
confused me a lot.  My best friend had become the subject of my erotic
fantasies...



   A boy that age has lots of erotic fantasies.



   Of course, Hanna mirrored my confusion.  She couldn't figure out why her
best friend suddenly acted strange around her.  And hurt when I wouldn't
talk to her about it.  It never occurred to me that she was thinking the
same thoughts about me that I was about her.



   I can't believe the time and opportunities we wasted!



   Our friendship limped along for a couple of years.  We were still best
friends, but with an uncomfortable space between us.



   Somehow, neither of us knew how to bridge that space.





   Entering high school, I was astonished at the number of kids in the
school--and how many of them were really good-looking girls!  By that time,
I was three inches over six feet and still growing.  I hadn't filled out
yet and was more lanky than `big'.



   Still, I noticed that the girls looked me over with approval and, as is
expected, I soon started dating.



   Hanna was a great help, telling me all about the girls she knew--which
ones `put out', and which ones were `teasers'.  More important; which ones
were bitches and which ones were nice.



   It wasn't a big deal, really.  All I wanted from a date was a good time
and maybe a little kissing and petting.  I dreamed of getting laid, but
wasn't obsessed with it.



   Of course, I gladly helped Hanna the same way, with all the information
I had about any guy she asked about--including my impression of his
reputation.



   Why we never dated each other, I'll never know.  (Derrick and Anne got
together briefly in high school, but mostly were just good friends.)





   - - + + + + + -



   By the time I was a junior, I was carrying a pretty heavy scholastic
load, with calculus, chemistry, German, and the fuzzy studies stuff we were
required to take.  I was also a starter on the football team as a tight
end--and defensive end when I had to play both ways.  I'd grown into my
height, now six feet four, and weighed about two hundred pounds.  I was
still lean, but not the beanpole I'd been a couple of years before.



   I played football from love of the game.  I enjoyed hitting people.  And
I found that I was very good at catching footballs.  Since I was big enough
to take the punishment of catching passes over the middle and then run over
most high school defensive backs, I made `all-conference' that year, with
college scouts looking me over.



   I also found myself being `stalked' by a number of the girls in the
school.



   My reputation was straight arrow.  I was still a virgin, though by then
I'd had plenty of opportunities to take care of that.  And I wanted to. 
But I was such an idealist, I didn't want it to be a `cheap' thing...
Naïve? ... Yeah.  I was.



   So I was dating, but not enjoying it very much.  Between sports and
studies, there just wasn't much time.



   Hanna, meanwhile, was always there; always ready with a good word, or
advice about a girl who got me to ask her out.





   Then Hanna dated Dick.



   Dick Pritchard was a basketball player, who felt that football was `too
brutal'.



   In reality, he didn't care at all about brutality.  He just didn't want
to take any chance that he might get hurt.



   Beyond question, he was the most egotistical, self-centered bastard in
the school.



   I tried to tell Hanna that she was just `arm candy' to Dick Pritchard.
But Hanna, for the first time, turned the full blast of her temper on
me--to my complete surprise: I was only doing what we'd always done for
each other by telling her about him...



   She told me it was none of my damn business who she dated!



   Then she proceeded to vent generally, picking apart everything about me:
what I did and who I dated--even the clothes I wore.  When she finished, I
felt pretty much like I'd been run over by a truck.  A large part of my
distress was that my best friend thought so much was wrong with me.





   - - + + + + + -





   Preparing for her third date with Dick, Hanna was a little apprehensive.
She really enjoyed the attention she was getting as the girl who was `going
with' Dick Pritchard.  What concerned her was that he'd been pretty
aggressive with his hands on their last date, and hadn't been pleased at
all when she insisted that he leave her clothing alone.  He'd driven her
home in a snit and stormed back to his car without a kiss at the door.



   Still, she thought with a smile, he'd asked her out again.  She had him
under control.





   Arriving to pick her up, Dick looked her over in wonder.  `Does she know
how hot she looks?' he asked himself.  `Damn!  If I don't get some of that
tonight, I'll ... well ... I WILL get some of that tonight!'



   "Hi, baby.  You look fantastic."



   "Thanks, Dick... Where are we going?"



   "I thought we'd grab a pizza downtown, then see what we could find."



   Hanna smiled and nodded as he helped her into the car.  `Nice manners,'
she thought.



   The pizza parlor was noisy with friends and acquaintances.  Once they'd
finished and were back in the car, Dick started to drive.



   "Where are we going?" Hanna asked.



   "I thought maybe you'd enjoy the view at the lake."



   A notorious `make out' spot, Hanna had no desire to go there.  "How
about a movie?  Or maybe the arcade?" she offered.



   By that time, they had left town and were in the country.  Dick suddenly
turned into a graveled, one-lane road and pulled to a stop under a huge
oak.



   Pulling Hanna to him, he kissed her deeply.



   But when his hand found her breast, she pushed him away.  "What the hell
do you think you're doing?" she demanded.



   "Just giving you what you've been asking for," he replied, pulling her
back.



   She braced her arms against him.  "Hold everything, buster!  I haven't
been asking for anything.  You'll get what I want to give you--and no more.
Are we clear on that?"



   His reply was a hard slap, hand open but a solid blow, to the side of
her face.  "Bitch!  You been teasing me for weeks.  Teasing is over now! 
It's time to put out what you've been promising."



   Dick's problem was that he hadn't appreciated either her strength or her
temper.  He was not dealing with some five-foot-two, petite girl.  Hanna
was an even six feet and, though slender, was solid and strong.



   Hanna went ballistic.  She started by slapping him back, then
straightened up and reached for the door handle of the car.



   Dick grabbed her arm and pulled her back toward him.  With his other
hand, he grabbed the neck of her sweater and pulled down, popping off two
of the buttons and tearing the others out of the buttonholes.  As Hanna
pulled the door handle, opening the passenger door, Dick grasped her bra
between her breasts, holding her in the car.  When he hit her again, Hanna
went into a berserk rage.



   No longer trying to get away, she attacked in blind fury--with fists,
elbows, knees, and all the strength she could muster.  A fist caught an
ear, tearing it, while an elbow took Dick in the side of the face, breaking
several teeth and cracking his jaw.  One of Hanna's knees just missed his
balls, giving him a painful bruise on the inner thigh.



   In a matter of seconds, Hanna's attacker became a passive defender.



   Seeing that she had stunned him, Hanna opened the driver's door and
shoved Dick out of the car.  Slamming and locking the doors, she backed
from the lane at high speed--narrowly missing a car on the highway, when
she backed into it.  She drove into town, where she parked on the lawn in
front of the high school... and let the air out of the tires.



   Her adrenaline high vanished, leaving her weak and exhausted.  So she
called me to come collect her.







   "Gary?" her voice came over the phone.



   "Yeah."



   "Can you come get me?"



   "I suppose.  Where are you?" I was ready for bed and not in the best of
moods because I hadn't arranged a date for the weekend.



   "At the McDonald's across from school."



   "OK.  Fifteen minutes?"



   "Thanks, Gary."



   Driving up, I saw Dick's car with flat tires, hood up and doors open, on
the school lawn.  With a sly, private smile, I knew there would be trouble
over that--and that the car would be trashed in a couple of hours, if the
cops didn't get there first.



   Hanna was waiting for me.  She looked like she'd lost a ten-round fight.

   "What happened to you?"



   "Dick."



   "Dick?"



   "Yeah.  He thought he could take more than I wanted to give him.  He
made a mistake."



   "Dick did that to you?" I growled, getting mad.  Nobody would get away
with pounding on a pal of mine.



   Hanna grinned.  It was lopsided.  The side of her face was starting to
show the painful bruise it carried.  "He probably looks a lot worse."



   "Good for you!  ... Where is he, now that I think of it?"



   "I left him on that gravel trail leading back to Hampton's pasture."



   "Well, you can tell me about it on the way home.  That face needs
attention."



   As we started to leave the restaurant, I saw Dick get out of a car
across the street.  He'd thumbed a ride into town.



   Some of our friends from school were enjoying an after-movie hamburger
and had seen Hanna's face... Sensing entertainment, they followed us out of
the place.



   Dick howled in rage when he saw his car.  He howled again when he
spotted Hanna, and started for her.  When I would have intercepted him,
Hanna held me back.  "No Gary.  He's mine.  All I want from you tonight is
a ride home.  OK?"



   "OK," I agreed, reluctantly.





   Dick screamed obscenities at her as he crossed the street, saying she
was a lousy teaser, a worse lay, and a complete scumbag for what she'd done
to his car.



   Hanna replied so everyone could hear that he couldn't even get it up and
had tried to beat her so she wouldn't tell everyone.  Enraged, she dared
him to try to hit her with everyone watching, to see just how macho he was.
"Big shot, my ass!" she spat in his face.



   When he tried to slap her again, she blocked his swing with an arm,
kneed his balls, and slapped her cupped hands over his ears as hard as she
could, rupturing one eardrum and damaging the other.  Dick went down like
he'd been shot and Hanna turned away.



   "Take me home?" she asked me.



   "With pleasure!" I grinned at her.



   Two extreme adrenaline highs in a short time were too much for her. 
Hanna fell asleep in my car.



   In minutes, we were home.  Her house was dark.  I shook her awake.



   "Hanna!  Wake up!  Where are your folks?"



   "Huh?  Wuzzat?  Gary?  Wha...?"



   "Where are your parents?  Hanna?  Wake up, dammit!"



   "Oh.  'S OK, Gary.  Ev'body... visit Aunt Alice... Back tomor..." She
faded out again.



   I pulled her out of the car and walked her semi-conscious form into my
house.  My family was gone too.  It was deer season and my parents were
both really into archery--they didn't care if they got a deer; they enjoyed
the autumn woods and a chance to shoot their bows.  My brothers were
staying with friends.



   Leading Hanna to the guestroom, I got her to sit on the bed, while I
went to the bath and got a wet rag to wash her face.  The bruise was
already turning purple.  She managed to kick off her shoes and lie on the
bed.  I gently washed her face and hands with the cloth.  She muttered that
she was OK, when I asked if she had any place else that hurt.  I went for
an ice pack for her face, and somehow got her to hold it in place.



   "Hanna?"



   "...."



   "Hanna?  Dammit, Hanna, wake up!"



   "Wassamatta, Gary?"



   "Hanna, we got to talk a minute.  You can stay here tonight, but you got
to get your clothes off, so you can sleep."



   "'S OK, Gary...  You help..."



   It went like that.  She was too out of it to undress herself.  And her
torn sweater and twisted bra were turning me on.  In the end, I pulled her
sweater off and, with trembling fingers, undid the bra.  Her breasts were
more gorgeous than my imagination--buttressed with Playboy centerfolds--had
pictured them.  With great willpower, I pulled one of my t-shirts over her,
and attacked the lower part.



   The skirt was easy--one button and a zipper and pull it off.



   The pantyhose were a mess when I got them off.



   I left her panties on and covered her.



   I gave her a `brotherly' kiss on the forehead, turned out the lights and
went to my own bed--where images of her breasts made certain that I tossed
and turned a long time before getting to sleep myself.







   Before I was really awake, I felt another body slide into my bed.  And
into my arms.  It had to be Hanna, since I had vivid dreams about her when
I finally got to sleep.  My hands and arms closed around her--and
discovered she'd shed the t-shirt.  Her skin felt like satin--smoother than
I could have imagined.  And so hot I thought she must be glowing.



   Since I sleep only in shorts, those magnificent breasts were mashed
against my bare chest.  When my sleepy brain registered that, the signals
it sent were:



   INSTANT ERECTION!



   INSTANT ERECTION!



   INSTANT ERECTION!



   I tried to back away and found that strong arms were holding me tight,
as a pair of hot lips attacked mine.  While I kissed her back, my hands
holding her close, she let her hands drift to my shorts--which were jerked
out of the way.



   Next thing I knew, the equipment was being handled and checked out.  And
none too gently, either.  (Hanna had never done that before and didn't know
how to touch a guy to give him pleasure.)



   Thinking, `If she's gonna check me out, I'm damn sure going to get a
look myself!' I ran a hand between her legs, which opened right up for me.
I confess, I was no more gentle with her than she was with me...  We were
truly `The Original Amateur Hour.'



   In seconds--I had just located the source of all the moisture--she was
rolling onto her back and pulling me by the dong into position above, then
in her.  I tried to take it slowly and gently, but her strong hands on my
butt literally jerked me in.  As I entered, she gasped and bit her lip. 
Hard.  Then she seemed to open around me like a flower, only to enclose me
again, sweetly, with arms and legs encircling me.



   A horny teenaged virgin, I'd have expected to come on first contact. 
But it was all so new, and the way it went down so different from what I
expected, I was able to set myself outside what my body was experiencing
and just enjoy it.



   Soon, Hanna's lower torso started undulating and she began to clasp me
rhythmically.  As I slid in and out of her close, hot wetness, her
excitement built until she was gyrating so frantically under me it was all
I could do to stay between her legs and plugged in.  When she screamed in
fulfillment, it seemed a trance was broken and my own release responded to
hers.



   I was glad she wears her nails short.  She scraped hell out of my back
as it was.







   When I rolled off her, I held her close and kissed her tenderly.



   "Gary, do you have any idea how long I've wanted you to do that?" she
asked, with a contented sigh.



   "Which, kiss you, or fuck you?"



   What a dipshit!



   She slugged me in the arm--gently.  "Both, asshole!"



   (We were truly best friends and could talk that way with each other,
though we normally use better language.)



   I kissed her again.  "How come you never told me?"



   Hanna just slugged me again.  Then, relenting, she said, "When you
started noticing there was a difference between girls and boys, you put a
big wall between us.  I did everything I could to get it out of the way,
but couldn't get through to you.  I talked about sexy things and what the
girls said in the locker room...  You just listened and thanked me for the
information...



   "I figured Dick would make you jealous.  You warned me--but didn't do
anything about it."



   "Well, I guess I didn't want to lose my best pal.  Sure you turn me on.
But I love you too much to risk losing what I had with you by asking for
more..."



   "You LOVE me, Gary?"



   Oops!



   Surprised by my own choice of words, I admitted, "Yeah.  I did, Hanna. I
DO." Shocked, I thought about what I'd just said.  "I love you, Hanna," I
whispered.



   She kissed me again.



   "That was my first time.  I'm so glad that conceited dickhead, Dick,
didn't manage to rape me.  I always wanted you to be my first..." She
smiled.  "And you didn't disappoint me." Another kiss.  "You made it as
wonderful and loving as I imagined it would be."



   Her sensuous smile changed to a hungry grin.  "Do you suppose we could
do it again?"



   Old Oscar sat up and took notice.



   Before it was completely submerged by my newly stirred-up hormones, my
brain made me ask, "But Hanna, I came in you.  Won't you get pregnant?"



   She'd found Oscar and was in the process of sitting on him.



   "Maybe.  It's really the wrong time of the month, but I suppose I could.
So what?" I felt her wet velvet tunnel engulf me.  "I always wanted to have
your babies, ever since I learned where babies came from.  Would you like
to give me a baby, Gary?  Would you please knock me up?"



   What American boy could resist that?  My answer was to hump back at her
as hard as I could and, all too soon, pump her welcoming womb full of my
seed.



   Hanna was right there with me, her lewd suggestions turning her on as
much as they had me.  With a scream, she convulsed and then collapsed on my
chest, those marvelous breasts cushioning her.  Her mouth found mine in a
long, searching kiss that turned tender and very loving.



   "Hanna," I said, when she turned loose of me.  "Before this goes any
farther, and just to set the record straight--this is my first, too.  I've
loved you for years.  Although I was tempted pretty strongly a few times,
I've been saving it for you.  So you've made a big dream of mine come true,
too."



   As she rolled to the side, I kissed her again.  Then we grinned at each
other like the pair of idiots we were.



   "Why didn't we do this sooner?" we asked simultaneously, bursting into
laughter.



   After a little more kissing and petting, I backed off, to look at her
closely.  When I started, Hanna clung to me, and said, "Oh, don't look at
me now.  I'm a mess.  Let me get my face on."



   I pushed her firmly to arm's length.  "You have a pretty nasty bruise,
which I think I'll have to talk to Dick about.  Other than that, you're
purely lovely." My fingertips lightly learned the contours of her familiar
and loved face.  Then traced her ears and neck.  Following my gaze, they
followed the hollows of her collarbone and down to the extraordinary firm
breasts that rose from her ribcage.  I wasn't tickling, just stroking
lightly.  Even so, her breath caught a couple of times, when I explored the
texture of her nipples and areolas.



   Her tummy was a slightly rounded, firm structure that led to the flare
of her hips and the trimmed, red-covered patch between her shapely but
solid thighs... I'd always admired her legs.  When we went swimming or for
a run, even as kids, she always had well-proportioned, superbly tapered
legs.



   Meanwhile she'd been doing the same; passing her hands over my chest,
playing with the few hairs by my nipples, sliding across the rippled
hardness of my stomach, coming to rest with a finger gently twirling the
pubic hair.



   We'd given each other our bodies.  I guess we were each taking inventory
of our new possessions.



   After a bit, with a deep sigh of content, Hanna said, "Yum.  I like
this....  Uh, Gary...?"



   "Yeah?"



   "I wasn't presuming too much, was I?  When I asked if you want me to
have your babies?"



   "You mean, you mean it?  That wasn't just passion?"



   "Oh yes.  I meant it.  I mean... It WAS passion!  But I mean it.  I
meant it.  Am I rushing you too much?"



   "Well..." I considered, causing her to draw back a little in alarm.  "I
think we'd better at least finish high school first, don't you?"



   "You bastard!" she giggled, socking me lightly in the arm.  "I'm on the
pill.  My mom put me on it two years ago.  And she and daddy made me
promise I'd finish college. ...  I wouldn't mind having a couple of kids in
the house by the time I do, though."



   I hugged her back against me, her ample body fitting perfectly.  "I
wouldn't mind, either, except I don't think we'll be able to afford it...
You know," the thought hit me, "we just agreed that we're going to get
married."



   "No such thing!" she responded, trying but failing to keep an impish
grin off her face.  "We've only agreed to have children together."



   "OK, OK, wiseass!  Do you want to get married?"



   "Sure I do.  Some day, I hope some good man asks me..."



   This time, I punched her...  lightly, on the arm.



   "Do you want to marry ME, you dope?"



   Surprising me--our mood had been teasing banter--she cried and hugged me
tight, then kissed me with all she had.  I thought she'd break one of my
teeth.



   "What's the matter?  Isn't that what you wanted?"



   "Of course it is, silly," she sniffed.  "I've wanted you so much, so
long... I can't help bawling, I'm so happy."



   Baffled, I gave it up and just held her.



   Pretty soon old Oscar, realizing I was holding a stacked, naked, willing
chick against my skin, decided to have a say in things.



   "Again?" Hanna giggled.  "Well, I wouldn't want you saying I don't take
proper care of my fiancé."



   In moments, our laughter had changed to gasps and moans, and then to
Hanna's screams of victory as, the third time that morning, we rode to
glory.  Through it all, though, she didn't lose her big grin.



   That was to be a hallmark of our life together.  Living with Hanna,
working with Hanna... sex with Hanna...  was always FUN, not some somber,
serious, mysterious thing.  Rather, an affirmation of life--and its
inherent absurdity.





   Mid-morning, we showered (Of COURSE together!), dressed, and were
enjoying breakfast when the doorbell rang.  On the porch were two largish,
middle-aged men.  I recognized one as a policeman.



   "Gary Rogers?" he asked me.



   "Yeah?"



   "Do you know where we could find Hanna O'Malley?"



   "Why do you want her?"



   "We were told she was assaulted last night.  We'd like to check it out."



   "In that case, gentlemen, won't you please come in?" I held the door
open for them, then led the way to the kitchen.



   "Miss O'Malley?" one cop said.



   "Yes?"



   "I'm Detective Hallaran.  This is Sergeant Jones.  The night manager of
the McDonald's said you were assaulted outside his restaurant last
night--and possibly before you came into his restaurant, too.  Would you
mind talking to us about it?"



   "No.  I wouldn't mind.  I'm not sure it needs the police, though..." She
proceeded to describe Dick's attempted rape and what she'd done about it.
And that she'd pretty much flattened him when he tried to attack her in
town.  "If he'll leave me alone, I don't see any need to press charges
against him."



   With a tight smile, Hallaran said, "I think you've probably chastised
him pretty well.  Date rape is serious--it is rape, after all--and we hate
to see it go unpunished.  I guess we'll have a little talk with Pritchard
and let him know he dodged a bullet this time.  If he tries this again, I'd
like your testimony, to show a pattern."



   "If he tries again, I'll be happy to do whatever is needed.  I'm a
little stronger than the average girl and could protect myself--and he
really made me mad."



   "Yeah.  Well, we won't bother you any more then.  Please call one of us
if he gives you any trouble."



   "I don't think he'll give me anything I can't handle."



   "You're probably right.  Even so, we'd like to know about it.  OK?"



   "Sure.  Thanks for your consideration."



   The cops left.



   "Gary?  Do you think he'll do anything?"



   "Dick?"



   "Yeah."



   "Only if he's an even bigger fool than I think he is.  Good grief, you
clobbered him, and humiliated him in the middle of town, in front of
witnesses.  I don't think he'll come looking for more."



   Hanna looked pensive.  "I hope you're right."







   Saturday afternoon, I had a fantastic game, with seven catches and two
touchdowns.  My attitude that nothing could stop me infected the whole
team. We creamed 'em!



   Monday was a very good day for Hanna.  She was a heroine among the girls
for decking Dick.  Plenty of them had wished they could do that.  And
somehow, by second period, the whole school knew that she was my girl.  She
was proud that she'd corralled `Gary, the loner'--the guy who wasn't
interested enough to take a girl out more than once.



   That was a new experience for me.  I'd never had a special girl before.



   Our friends knew how close we'd been for years and thought it was damn
well about time.



   Dick wasn't in school.  Seems he'd spent the weekend in the hospital,
where x-rays confirmed the fracture in his jaw.  He'd suffered some damage
in the crotch, too.  The bruising and swelling had to go down before the
doctors could tell just how much damage there was.





   - - + + + + + -





   Tuesday, when he came to school, the word quickly spread that he was
telling everybody that Hanna had just been lucky, and that he'd handle
"that prick-teasing bitch" as soon as he was able.



   Hanna heard about it at lunch, just as Dick entered the cafeteria with a
couple of his low-life friends.



   I have never seen her so angry.  Or so beautiful.  As I said at the
beginning, I'm sure glad it wasn't aimed at me!



   Hands on her hips, she confronted him.  "Assault and rape aren't enough
for you, Dick?  You're so low you slander, too?  If you weren't such a
selfish bastard, you might find a girl somewhere who would let you put that
tiny little thing in her.  As it is, you have to beat women up and rape
them, since no girl in her right mind would let you get to first base
otherwise... A girl can't be a prick teaser with you, Dick, 'cause you
ain't got enough of a prick to tease."



   Her hands make `come on' motions.  "And I hear you want to handle me...
Well, any time, doll baby.  Any...  old...  time."



   By now there were snickers or giggles from all the students in
earshot--most of the school.  Hanna wasn't quiet when she vented.



   Humiliated, Dick turned and slunk out, as the snickers turned to
guffaws.



   He didn't return to school that week.







   By the weekend, Hanna and I were so much in love we could hardly stand
it.  We went hand-in-hand everywhere and laughed a lot.  Dad later told me
I walked around with a big goofy grin on my face.  He asked me to have a
chat Sunday afternoon, after church.



   "So, Gary.  You and Hanna are an item now?"



   "You bet, Dad!  I can't believe how blind I was.  Or how happy I am
now."



   "I'm glad, son.  Your mom and I love you a lot.  We love Hanna too and
think she's a very good choice...  Son...  We have NO problems with
Hanna... We would have problems with a pregnant Hanna.  And we'd have a
problem if you decided to get a job and get married without going to
college first."



   I grinned.  "We're way ahead of you, Dad.  Hanna's mom put her on the
pill a couple of years ago.  And we agree that we both want college.  We
want college together.  THEN we'll see how many grandchildren we can
produce for you."



   "OK, son.  We'll support that.  I hope we'll see a lot of you and Hanna.
You don't have to go out all the time, to be together.  You need to eat and
study, and you need to do that here.  Hanna is welcome to join us."



   "Dad? ...  I don't know how...  Uh, Dad...  uh...  Can she stay all
night sometimes?" I finally got it out with a rush.



   Surprising me, he answered without hesitation, "I suppose.  As long as
you're discreet about it...  no one can know except Hanna's parents, and
they have to approve.  And you have to be meticulous about birth control. I
may be an old fart, but your mom's still too young to be a grandmother just
yet. ...  I'll talk to your brothers.  They'll keep their mouths shut!"



   It had been a long time, but I gave my dad a big hug.  "Thanks Dad."



   I went next door to Hanna's to tell her what had happened.  She grinned,
grabbed my hand, and dragged me into the family room, where her dad was
watching football while her mom read a magazine.  Grabbing the remote, she
muted the game, telling her folks we needed to talk.



   "Can't it wait until after...?"



   "Daddy!  I'm more important than a football game.  Besides, the Giants
have this one in the bag."



   He laughed and said, "Got me.  What do you need, Red?"



   "Momma, Daddy...  Gary and I are going to get married."



   "Congratulations, dear.  But don't you think you need to wait until
you're legal age, at least?"



   "Cut it out, Momma.  We'll get married when Gary graduates.  What we
want you to know is that we've decided."



   "OK.  Congratulations Red.  Tough luck, Gary...  NOW can I watch the
game?"



   "DAAADDDY!"



   "OK, honey.  I really am happy for you.  You and Gary have been a
perfect match for a long time.  I'm glad you two finally figured it out,
but it's not like I haven't assumed you were a pair for a while, now."



   "Me, too, honey," her mom chimed in.  "Congratulations, both of you."



   "Uh, Daddy?  Mom?  There's one other thing..."



   "Well?"



   "Can Gary sleep over?"



   "Huh?  He lives next door.  The guestroom isn't that comfortable
anyway...  OH!  You mean, in YOUR room?"



   "Yes Daddy."



   "I don't suppose it would do much good to ask you to wait until you're
married?"



   "No Daddy.  It wouldn't."



   "Are you on birth control?"



   "Yes Daddy."



   "Are both of you willing to promise to be exclusive to each other?  I
really don't want either of you infecting the other with some nasty
surprise."



   "Yes Daddy.  We are."



   "Yes, sir," I said.



   "OK.  With those rules understood, I guess I'd rather have you here than
out on some country road."



   "Thank you, Daddy," she said, giving him a kiss, which she followed with
a big, teary hug with her mother.  "Gary's dad said about the same thing.
So we'll be in one house or the other."



   "Could you let us know where you're going to be?" Hanna's mom asked. 
"So we can plan dinner, and so on."



   "Of course, Mom.  And if you especially want me, or both of us, for
something, we'll do all we can to make that work, too."



   "NOW can I get back to the game?"



   "DAAADDYYYY!"





   - - + + + + + -





   So that Monday, we were feeling pretty good about life and our
situation.



   Until we got to school.





   Using the front entrance, a student or visitor walks past the cafeteria
to enter the school.  A number of students were in the habit of gathering
there, to chat or go over their notes and materials for the day before
class started.



   Dick arrived at the cafeteria door with a semi-automatic .22 rifle, and
a HiStandard .22 pistol.  A Reuger .32 automatic was stuck in his belt in
back.  He walked through the door, looked around for a moment as if he was
looking for someone, then brought up the rifle and started shooting.



   In seconds, he had fired all fifteen rounds from the magazine and hit
five students.  Mary Satterly was dead, four others wounded.



   Then he started with the pistol.





   Hanna and I were just approaching the building when we heard the short,
sharp bark of the rifle.



   "What's that?" she asked.



   "Sounds like firecrackers.  If somebody did that in the cafeteria, Mr.
Fogerty will have a cow!" I was pissed, because I didn't need some idiot
messing up the loose discipline of the school campus.



   Going to the cafeteria door, I started to open it, just as Dick started
to empty his pistol in the students gathered there.



   Hanna put out her hand and held the door shut.  "That's gunfire, Gary."



   That slowed me down a lot.



   We carefully opened the door a crack and saw Dick's back, just a few
yards from the door, as he fired off the clip from the pistol.  There was
another pistol in his belt and a small rifle on the floor.



   I started to open the door further and Hanna jerked it fully open, while
I launched myself into a tackle from behind.  Pretty good form, if I say so
myself.  I caught him just above the knees, driving forward and upward with
my 230 pounds uncoiling.



   Dick flew over my back and landed on his head on the floor.



   Stunned, he'd managed to hang onto the pistol and jerked off three more
wild shots before I stomped his wrist hard and the pistol fell away.



   With a tiny bit of shame--the adrenaline was pretty high--I'll admit to
punching him a few times while he was down and mostly out of it.



   I didn't know one of his shots hit Hanna or I'd have killed the son of a
bitch!



   By the time three other guys pulled me off him, Dick was barely
semi-conscious.



   And even though I had guys draped all over me, I managed to scream,
"He's got another gun!  In his belt in back!"



   Somebody rolled Dick over and retrieved the other pistol and the guys
let go of me, to pick up his other weapons from the floor.



   It took me a minute to look around.  Where was Hanna?



   Then I saw the slumped figure in the doorway.





   My heart stopped.





   A blade of ice carved through my chest.





   I rushed to her and carefully laid her straight, holding her head and
torso in my lap.  I quickly found that she was alive, since she groaned
when I moved her.  But a bit a blood ran from the corner of her mouth. 
Looking her over, I finally found a tiny entrance wound, below her left
breast.  There was no wound in back.  The bullet was still in her.



   All the while, I'd been barely conscious of the wail of sirens, until
they cut off in front of the school, yards from where I sat on the pavement
cradling my girl.



   First was a pair of cops, who leaped over me and into the cafeteria.



   I was watching for the paramedics.  I grabbed the first one.  "Help me!"
I demanded.  "She's been shot in the chest!"



   He stopped, waving his partner on into the building.  "How do you know?"
I showed him the entrance wound and the blood on her cheek.  "OK.  Let's
lay her out flat and I'll have a look." With swift competence, he proceeded
to check heart and blood pressure, and agreed that Hanna had a bullet in
her left lung.  He put her on oxygen and initiated an IV.  Then he and I
carefully placed her on the stretcher someone set beside us.



   By now, there were three ambulances and more cops on the scene than I
thought our town had.  A pair of ambulance technicians raised the wheeled
stretcher and started to cart Hanna off.  I wouldn't leave her and started
to climb into the ambulance with her.



   "Not so fast, pal.  I need to be in there!" a paramedic said, pulling me
back from the vehicle.



   "But, she's my girl!"



   "Fine.  So let me do my job.  We'll all do our best to make sure she
lives to come back to you.  OK?"



   "Can't I ride along?"



   "Oh, what the hell.  Get up front.  You can ride there." He said this as
another wounded student slid into the other stretcher slot and the driver
started to close the back doors.



   I ran around the side and jumped into the passenger seat just as the
driver activated his lights and siren, kicking the vehicle in gear and
goosing the throttle.



   For as fast as we were going, the ride was surprisingly smooth.  We
arrived at the emergency entrance of the hospital faster than I thought
possible.



   Once there, I was engulfed in a scene of organized confusion.  The other
student, Mark Valchuk, had been shot in the arm and had lost a lot of
blood, as well as serious muscle damage.  A team took him off to a cubicle.



   Hanna was also taken to a cubicle where her clothing was removed and she
was prepped for surgery.  A middle-aged woman, the Charge Nurse, barked,
"Hurry up!  They're waiting for her in Surgery Two!" In minutes, Hanna was
draped with hospital sheets and wheeled away.



   I tried to follow, but was firmly pointed to a small waiting room in the
surgery section.  After I'd bounced off the walls a bit and settled into a
chair with a magazine I couldn't see well enough to read, an old lady came
to sit beside me.  She had on the green jacket of a hospital volunteer.



   "Are you Gary Rogers?"



   "Yeah.  So?"



   "I'm Connie Shepherd.  I'm a volunteer here.  They've asked me to see if
you would help us...?"



   "Just tell me how.  If it helps Hanna, I'll do it!"



   "Well, we need her parents.  We can do a lot for her, but we need their
consent for some of the procedures the doctors think may be necessary.  Can
you locate them?"



   "I think so.  Where's the phone?"



   It took a few calls, but in twenty minutes Hanna's mother joined me, her
father arriving about five minutes later.



   "They won't tell me anything, except that she's in surgery..." I whined.



   "Well, I'll see what I can find out," Hanna's dad said.  "What
happened?"



   I described the awful events of the morning to the O'Malleys.  By then I
was feeling really bad about it all.  I'd managed to put the scumbag down,
but I hadn't been able to protect the one person I loved.



   Mr.  O'Malley caught that.  A former SEAL, he was familiar with violence
and its nuances.  "Gary!  Listen to me!  There is nothing you could have
done different.  You saw what had to be done and you did it.  Hanna took
her own chances when she stood in the doorway. ...  Gary: IT IS NOT YOUR
FAULT!  Get that through your head.  OK?"



   That was nice of him to say.  But I wasn't buying it.  I should have
protected Hanna.



   After a few minutes when I didn't answer, he got up and went in search
of some straight answers about Hanna's condition.



   When he returned, the news was about as good as we could have expected,
everything considered.  Hanna had taken a .22 bullet in the left lung.  It
hit a rib on the way in, causing some tumbling, but slowing it
considerably. It hadn't hit any major structures other than the lung.  The
lung was messed up, but would be functional, with some work.  The bullet
had been removed and would cause no more harm.  There was no nerve damage
or other serious problems.  The concern was to remove the blood from the
lung, patch it up so it wouldn't collapse, and get Hanna on the road to
recovery.



   Three hours later, Hanna was wheeled into the room that would be hers
for the next two weeks.  She looked like hell, but nothing I'd ever seen
was more beautiful to me.  My Hanna was ALIVE!





   I was sitting at her bedside, holding her hand--both arms had IVs in
them--when our old `friend', Sergeant Jones, came in.



   "Thought I'd find you here," he said.



   "Well, you were right.  What do you want?" I realized that I wasn't very
polite, but really didn't give a damn at that point.



   Unperturbed--he was familiar with the effects of stress on witnesses--he
calmly said, "I need to talk with you.  We can do it low key here, or you
can come down to the station and do it formal.  Up to you."



   "Not that I really give a damn, but what about?"



   "You're accused of using more than `reasonable and necessary' force to
capture the gunman at the school this morning."



   "WHAT??" I couldn't believe what I was hearing.



   "Yeah.  Pritchard's parents have accused you of battery.  They allege
that he was down and out, and you pounded his face with excessive force
long after there was any danger to anybody."



   "You're kidding, right?"



   "No.  I'm not." He waited a moment, until he was sure he had my
attention.  "However, I don't think they'll get anywhere with this claim.
If I were you, I'd point out the three shots he fired after you tackled him
and claim that you were just trying to be sure he couldn't shoot any more."



   I nodded my thanks.



   Then he proceeded to take me through a very skillful interrogation,
walking me through the events of the morning.  When we'd gone over
everything a couple or three times, he said, "I've recorded our interview.
I'll get a statement typed up from it and have somebody bring it by your
house in a day or two...  Can you take a couple of suggestions?"



   I nodded and opened a hand for him to go on.



   "Don't talk to the press for at least a day.  See what the statement
says and call me if you want anything changed or expanded.  Then don't tell
the press anything that you haven't told me."



   "Do I have to talk to them?"



   "Sooner or later." He shrugged.  "They'll leave you alone once they've
heard your story."



   After he left, I sat there, holding Hanna's hand, thinking about it all.
Her parents drifted in and out, and mine came by--all insisted on giving me
big hugs, which was embarrassing.



   I thought about this girl--WOMAN--and what she meant to me.



   The thought that I'd almost lost her made me turn cold and dead inside.
But remembering that she lived, and loved me, turned that cold into warmth
and content.  I'd found my woman, my mate.  That was all I cared about.  I
was, by being there, caring for her as much as I could.



   As the windows turned dark, someone brought a dinner tray for me. 
(Hanna's dad had arranged it.) I picked at it without interest, but soon
polished it off without being aware that I had.



   When I put down my napkin and took Hanna's hand again, I felt her
squeeze me.  Then her eyelids fluttered and opened part way.



   "Gary?"



   "Who else, baby?"



   "Are you OK?"



   "I'm fine."



   "Oh, I'm so glad!" she gasped.



   "How are you?"



   "I hurt everywhere," she panted.  "It hurts to breathe.  What happened
to me, Gary?"



   "You stood in the door...  so you could watch, I guess.  Anyway, Dick
got off a few shots when I tackled him.  You caught one."



   "I remember you going after him.  I was so proud...  Then what
happened?"



   "I dumped him on his head, but he got a couple more shots off.  One got
you, baby."



   "How bad?  I hurt everywhere."



   "It got your lung.  You lost some lung, but they say you're going to be
OK.  You'll be here a while.  They need to keep you on oxygen until your
breathing settles down."



   "That's why it hurts so much to talk?"



   "Yeah, baby."



   "Will you be here?"



   "Well..." I saw her frown starting.  "I have to go to school, and
sleep--they won't let me stay here.  But I'll be here whenever I can.  If
I'm not here, it's not because I'm not thinking of you.  Don't ever forget
that," I added, fiercely.



   "OK, Gary... I love you..." her voice trailed off, and her eyes closed.



   Looking up, I saw Hanna's parents had come in while we were talking. 
Hanna's mother smiled and said gently, "We'll take it now, Gary.  Go home
and get some sleep.  Tomorrow is likely to be busy.  You can stop by here
on your way to school.  We've left instructions that you and your parents
are `family'.  The hospital won't hassle you about visiting hours."



   I nodded my thanks and stood--amazed at how exhausted I was.



   I don't know how I got home.



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