The twins head to Petaluma, such a gentle sounding place, I should think assholes like our two targets would find an edgier town.
Grace B, “Petaluma is derived from a Coast Miwok phrase péta lúuma, which means back of the hill. The town is up against the Sonoma Mountain.”
“What are Coast Miwok?”
“An indigenous tribe that lived in what is now mostly Marin County.”
“So they were there before it was Silicon Valley?”
“Silicon Valley is further south, Santa Clara County, but close enough. Marin County is known for its natural beauty, liberal politics, and affluence. It is in the top five for highest income per capita in the United States.”
“Wait, what happened to the bit about liberals making everyone poor by taxing the crap out of everything?”
“Lies told to keep idiots voting Republican.”
Nothing like a post breakfast civics lesson.
“What time do we estimate the video feed to begin?”
Grace B, “Depends on when the girls locate the targets, then figure out how to corner them long enough to refocus. You know this already.”
“Just being conversational.”
“Babble to someone else, I have work to do,” she moves off to make up beds or do Amaya’s bidding.
Emma B, “We will announce it when the action starts. They have landed and are on the way to the target’s house. Surveillance has targets at home. There appears to be other activity however.”
“What other activity? Put up the surveillance feed in the office, find Janah and Nikko and have them meet me.”
The three of us are listening to audio, there is video of the exterior of the house, it’s quiet outside. Inside is a different matter.
Voice, “The toys ready?”
Voice Two, must be Pretty Boy, sounds slightly mincey, bit on the high pitch side, “Yes Joshua, don’t I always have them ready.? Squeaky clean, lotioned and polished, smooth as cue balls every one. Tight little asses, ready to be fucked, pretty mouths ready to suck.”
“Check them again before the guests arrive, little boys get filthy quickly.”
“Of course, but they are spending the day in their, um…room. Video games for now, gay pron for an hour before the guests arrive.”
“Good, I think I’ll have one suck my cock after lunch. Right now, time for a workout. You have them secured?”
Dramatic sigh, “How long have I been doing this Joshua? The little fuckbits are sealed in tight. This is the last evening for two of them. They are going to be thirteen soon, over the fucking and sucking hill,” he giggles.
“We get fresh veggies next week, from Europe and Asia. I am told they are succulent tidbits, four, five and six years old. We can get years of delight out of them.”
“I adore training the little ones, so compliant and eager to please. They learn to love my lubricated finger in their ass, then my lubricated dick.”
“You like to suck their little cocks you faggot.”
Another giggle, I’m getting sick of this guy already, “Cocktail weenies.”
Crap, what a dork.
Janah, “Are the twins getting this?”
Emma B, “Yes.”
Joshua, “We have four guests tonight, six boys, be a lovely evening, Cristal, coke and cock,” he laughs at his stupid alliteration.
“What do these guys do, for money? Buying children isn’t cheap, and they room and board them for years.”
Nikko, “I assume the price of admission is high, did we do any research on the two? Background?”
Janah, “Not really. Emma B, start digging, who are these guys?”
“Joshua Faber comes from a wealthy boat manufacturing family. He’s a de facto sales rep, but he doesn’t really do anything but collect his salary and go to the gym. The other you call Pretty Boy is off the radar, no known employment. I scanned his photo through the California DMV, Immigration and the FBI, he doesn’t exist. No license, no passport, no library card.”
I briefly wonder how Pretty Boy drives with no license, then I decide there are likely a fair number of people driving with no license.
Janah, “I suspect he was raised by Faber to be what he is, a pretty toy and an assistant to keep after the boys.”
Dasha checks in, “We are outside of the house. Faber goes to his gym for working out around now. We will take him there, before or after. Then back to house for the other one.”
“The kids are in there, can’t be helped, I doubt Pretty is going to be much of an obstacle.”
“Nyet. We may haf chance elsewhere, sometimes he goes to the store while Faber ees gone. Children are locked in a basement when no one ees home according to Surveillance. If we take him outside or in, good chance keeds will not anyway be wandering around.”
“We’re following, you have a place to bring Faber?”
“Da, all set, storage place, beeg enough to back in car and deal wiz target also.”
“The children are occupied with Amaya and Chloe, all is well here.”
“Sister haf spoken wiz Kota B.”
We blink off, should have known. The Mamas aren’t going to guess about the kids’ welfare, no matter how many Tetyas are here taking care of them, or how many times the kids say the Zycyryn will not let them come to harm. They also know we have earned the enmity of Shadows, who, if they find us, will stop at nothing to eliminate our interference with their continued existence.
Those of us following, which includes most of the household, see Faber’s Tesla back out of the garage and hum down the street. Dasha is driving the SUV, she pulls in a dozen car lengths back, there’s no need to close, Surveillance has a tracker on both of their cars. He’s headed in the direction of his gym anyway.
Sloane, “If we pass him, we can get to the gym first, maybe grab him before he goes inside.”
Daria, “Maybe he stops someplace first, we get him before he gets to the gym.”
“There’s that. Okay, what do we know about the gym? Is it a common commercial deal, private?”
Daria, “Good question,” she connects to Grace B, gives her the name of the gym and its location.
Grace B is back in twenty seconds, “A private club, men only, gay men only. Don’t step in the white sticky.”
We all hear the exchange, we’re laughing, Grace B is bizarre.
Britt, “What’s so funny, what white sticky? …..ooohhhh, that’s gross.”
I reach out to Dasha, “What if some of the kiddy playmates belong to the gym? We have Surveillance photos of a few visitors to Faber’s place, they look like body boys.”
“When we go in, we will scan faces, Grace B can compare to the photos.”
“The place has an exterior key code and cameras.”
Dasha, “Dahfoney, we do not need code, Sloane will disable camera wiz laser gun. Now, we are approaching, no more talking.”
We follow along, Dasha, “Sloane, drive around back to see about rear exit.”
She does, there is a solid door to a rear alley, a dumpster on one end.
We hear Daria, “I will push dumpster to block back door, then we go inside and find Faber.”
Yes, dumpsters are heavy, but they roll, and the twins are strong as grizzlies, pushing the dumpster is light work.
Back exit sealed, they drive around front. The small lot has five cars, the building isn’t that big, couple thousand square feet tops. There is no sign indicating what it is, there are no windows except panes along the top, a good ten feet off ground level.
“About as private a gym as it gets shy of being in someone’s home.”
Janah, “Bet you they workout naked.”
“Didn’t see Faber with a gym bag, just his street clothes.”
Daria, “Maybe we listen first, Dasha, you have the device?”
“Da,” she digs around in an equipment bag, “here.”
She firs it up and points the dish to one of the windows. Eloise’s newest one can pick up fly farts at fifty yards.
Voice, it’s Faber, “Party tonight, the last for two of our baby boys.”
Voice Unknown, “Sorry to see Darren go, who the other one?”
“Philippe, a damn fine bit of ass, but when hormones kick in, we kick them out,”
“You don’t kick ‘em out, you sell ‘em out. Getting replacements?”
“Of course, coming in next week, beautiful darlings waiting to be trained.”
“Gotta say, your faggot boyfriend does a great job, they’re clean, healthy, succulent soft skin smooth as a baby’s ass.”
Voice Unknown Two, “What we pay for a party, they better fuckin be.”
Faber, “Get what you pay for, we provide prime little butt pussies, willing to do anything.”
Dasha, “Enough, we will feex everyone.”
Daria kicks the door, it doesn’t just open, it flies open, bangs against the wall and snaps back. She stops it with her hand. We can see what they see.
A half dozen naked guys, Faber, as muscular as he is, is only average. Two of the men are approaching huge. The other four are more typical bodybuilders. The place is narcissist heaven, mirrors cover every wall. There’s a small smoothie bar, a twink behind it whipping up protein drinks.
Ellen screeches, “He looks like the housekeeper in The Birdcage.”
Britt, “What’s The Birdcage?”
“La Cage au Folles, an ancient movie about an aging gay couple. They have a housekeeper who epitomizes the definition of gay, outrageously gay, tiny shorts, a frilly apron, heels. It was a pretty funny flick. There was a French version first, then an American remake with Robin Williams.
Big guy on the left, “Fuck is this shit? Who are you?”
Sloane, “Pervert patrol, sorry, party’s been cancelled girls.”
Daria grabs Faber by the throat and hurls him across the room like he’s styrofoam. The twink behind the counter screams and heads to the door. Sloane is on him, teeth bared, growling.
“Sit down. Touch a phone, move, even breathe hard and I snap you neck. Go fix your makeup or something.”
Twink’s eyes are saucers looking at Sloane’s pointy molars, he raises his hands, “Got it, got it, got it, no trouble.”
Dasha is being set upon by one of the two biggest muscle freaks, he’s throwing punches that hit her but don’t do any damage. She shoves her palm heel into his sternum, she’s wearing my special gloves, the ones with titanium, his chest cracks. She kicks him in the balls with her steel toe boot. As he bends forward, her heel takes out one knee.
The other big one is dealing with Daria, with about as much luck. First, the twins have unique muscle density courtesy of the grizzly. Second, they all wear polymer protective vests and lobster tail knee guards. Two hard shots to her chest result in broken knuckles, her attacker stares at his hands, adrenaline kicks in, he comes forward enraged.
As he charges, Daria ducks, shoves her shoulder into his gut and shoots him up and over her back. He doesn’t land well, crushes his back on a weight rack of fat dumbbells. He’s not getting up without help.
One of the men has a dumbbell in his hand, he raises it to bash Daria on the back of her head. Then the dumbbell crashes to the floor, his hand still holding it. Sloane bit through his wrist, blood drips from the corners of her mouth. He screams, holding his stump with his good hand. Convenient, Sloane bites through that one too. Guess he’ll have to hold his stumps with his feet. He passes out.
Dasha has the remaining two trying to wrestle her to the floor, they can’t grasp why she doesn’t move…at all.
She stomps one on his bare foot and twists her arm free, then hits the other square in the teeth with her titanium covered knuckles, then again, and again. His face is bloody stew. Sloane zips across the room and slams him in the knees….craaaack! He collapses.
Dasha turns her attention to broken foot, he’s lying on the floor, one hand up, “I’m done, done, don’t kill me.”
Faber has recovered, sort of, he’s got a limp and a shoulder injury, but he squares off in fighting stance.
“Bring it on bitches.”
Dasha and Daria look at each other, shake their heads.
Sloane, “Joshua, you do not even…take a look around at your customers.”
Faber, “Fuck that, I ground fight for fun, dealt with a lot more than a couple of girls.”
Sloane, “Let’s dance, my friends are going to sit this one out.”
“Your funeral skinny cunt,” in his defense, he doesn’t know she has no cunt, she has a cock.
Sloane zips around him so fast he can’t twist quick enough. She nips at his ear, now it’s half an ear, she spits the half out at his feet.
Faber snarls, “So you’re fast,” he stupidly puts his hand up in a karate pose, she relieves him of two fingers. Now there’s half an ear, a ring finger and a thumb at his feet. While he stares at bits of his body, she snaps off a thumb from the other hand. Four bits.
Sloane punches him in the throat, Faber falls backwards against a squat machine, bangs his head on a fifty pound weight and lies still.
Twink is in the bathroom, Daria fetches him.
“What do you know about parties? You go to them?”
“No! I’m gay, not a pedophile. I was one of the party boys, when I was little. Joshua was going to sell me, I convinced him to let me take care of the gym instead. They pay me to take care of this place, make their smoothies, let me suck them off sometimes.”
“How many more members?”
“Two dozen maybe. The ones here are the only people doing boys, at least as far as I know. They gym doesn’t open until two, except for this group. Faber owns it, he makes the rules. The rest of the members are typical muscle heads, some are gay, some straight. Most of them do porn, gay and straight. They’ve had their cocks sucked so many times it’s a miracle they don’t fall off.”
“We are going to have a chat with the pervs, you will want to wait that out in the locker room. Forget about getting out the back door, it is blocked for now. Just be still and wait. We are not here for you. Be good and you’ll be gone before the cops appear. You might want to grab any personal stuff, you won’t want to have ever been here.”
Visibly relieved, he nods, scoots off to the locker room.
Sloane, “Got a roomful, what do we do with them?”
Daria, “We can’t haul all of them to the storage place,” she knows we’re following the action, “Any ideas Daphne, Janah?”
“You need to park the Twink, use the storage facility for that. You can’t leave him there, and if you let him go now, he might call Pretty Boy in a panic.”
Janah, “Give the ones still functional the speech, how they’ll be followed, monitored. If we find them fucking children again, we will turn them into women, without anesthesia.”
I add, “You might want to make the point crotch-wise, no, don’t cut anything off, just smush up the parts a bit.”
One guy already has crushed nuts in his penis cocktail. The rest earn the same. Two are out of it, lucky for them. The three others are puking into their blood when Dasha and Daria finish the ball dance.
I grimace, “Bet that smarts, and it’s for sure going to leave a mark.”
They leave the mess, Dasha goes around back and pushes the dumpster away, knocks on the door. Twink peeks out.
“Come with me, we will get you out of here, nobody is going to hurt you, we just cannot leave you here.”
“Give me the keys, one of us will drive it, we need to go…now.”
He has no choice, climbs into the SUV with Daria, Dasha behind the wheel, Sloane drives Twink’s Toyota.
They take him to the storage facility, he balks, Dasha explains it’s temporary and he will be released shortly. And there will be cash to help him relocate. The mention of money placates him. Daria injects a tranquilizer, he falls away. Sloane ties him up and tapes his mouth, can’t have him banging on the walls should he wake up before they return.
Back at Faber’s place, a manse with a circular drive and high shrubbery privacy along the sides and rear. There’s a pool on back to exercise and sun the young boy entertainment.
Daria, “Sloane, sneak around the place and see if the boys are in or out of the basement.”
She zips off, creeping low under the window sashes, a quick peek inside. At the right rear corner, she spots Pretty Boy sunning himself while nude boys play in the pool. She returns to the SUV.
“Not yet, kids in the pool, target outside too. Funny, the boys appear to be having fun, playing around in the water like any little kids.”
Daria, “They were brought up in this life, they don’t go anyplace, not to school or a social life outside of the house.”
“So they only know what they know, I wonder, if they have access to the net, or TV, they must have some idea of the world. And they aren’t locked up now. If any of them took it in their head to run off, I don’t think the target could do much.”
Dasha, “Like sister said, they know what they are told only. TV or eenternet must be limited, they cannot communicate outside wiz it for instance.”
Janah, “There must be more, can you get a listening device on them?”
Dasha unpacks the drone while Daria drives to more secluded spot, she launches it and we have video and audio of the swimmers.
Pretty Boy, “Come here darlings, you must have a bottle of water, we keep your perfect skin hydrated. Here Dalton, sunscreen.”
He applies to face and shoulders, then while the boy drinks, Pretty Boy fondles him with one hand and strokes his butt with the other.
“Such a beautiful prince, may I have a kiss?”
The boy leans in, they kiss, not a tongue swap, but not a peck on the lips either, he never lets go of the little penis.
Dalton, “That feels good Anders, your hands are soft. Are we having a party tonight?”
“Yes sweet one, all the Spartan men coming to serve you and the rest of the darling princes.”
“Joshua told me tonight I get to do more than suck, I’m losing my virginity.”
“Are you excited?”
The boy grins, “Yes. The others practice on me with the toy, I’m ready for the real thing.”
Janah, “Sheesh, we found out why they don’t try to escape. They like it.”
Dalton, “Who do you think will win me?”
Anders, formerly Pretty Boy, “Wilton is the richest, he could bid the most, but he’s not into boy butt as much as a couple of the others. At any rate, you will be rewarded handsomely I am sure.”
“Fredric got a thousand dollars the first time, on top of his tribute. Terrance and Paul said this is their last party.”
“Yes, they are turning into adolescents, on their way to men. They move to a different house, each will have his own personal servant and live a rich life of luxury.”
We look at each other, we in Malibu, Dasha, Daria and Sloane in Petaluma are about as dumbstruck.
Sarah, “Cripes, a boy worship cult. They’re going to be rather disappointed when their Spartans don’t show up tonight, or any night.”
Janah, “It’s a game for the men, little boys to sexually abuse who believe they have the power. Complex psychology in this. And they’ve made them think when they leave, the game will continue.”
“You don’t think so.”
“There’s no follow up with the buyers, it has to be anonymous. The boys are far more likely to be purchased as an investment, not a personal entertainment.”
Nikko, “What do we do with the boys when this is done?”
“Maybe ranches, maybe the state, I don’t know yet,” she tunes into Daria, “go through the house, they have to have photos and video prepped for the buyers. It would be surprising if they didn’t video the parties. Don’t waste time, get access from Anders, he’ll know where the evidence is.”
“Da, we will find out, as soon as we can get to him.”
They wait, then Anders tells them, “Okay babies, big party tonight, lots of tribute. I have to get refreshments, my princes need to go to their castle and rest. And no sex please, you need to be ready for your Spartans, dears, not diddling your luscious selves all afternoon.”
The boys think it’s funny, giggles as they hustle inside.
A few minutes later we hear, “Locking up sweeties, no bad people can get to you in your room. Rest, play your games, think about the tribute you will be paid tonight, I’m so excited for you.”
A chorus of voices, “See you later Anders.”
Dasha, “We can grab him before he leafs,” she gets out of the SUV and parks herself next to the garage door.
Daria and Sloane circle the house and wait by the patio door.
The garage door rumbles open, Anders’ car cranks, then his driver’s side window explodes and he’s yanked out through the broken glass and thrown up against the wall.
Dash hits the button to close the garage door, Anders is whimpering, dazed, with no clue what just happened. She drags him in through the house to the patio door, steps on his neck while she clicks the lock and lets Sloane and Daria in.
Daria, “Get him situated, I’ll arrange the drugs.”
Anders has come around, “Who are you people? What do you want with me? I’ll tell you where the cash is, please don’t hurt me, just take what you want and go.”
Dasha fixes his arm while Daria injects him with Truth. Ten minutes later, Anders is as compliant as a pop star’s gofer.
She showed him photos of the mess they’d left at the gym, that and the drug were more than enough. Pretty Boy Anders is not going to take on anyone about anything, much less three insane women who massacred six muscle heads.
“I do what I’m told. Keep the boys pristine, feed them the story about little princes, Spartans and tribute. They suck it up, among other things, they’re good at sucking. Ask them, they like the worship, I could leave them in a shopping mall and they would come running back.”
“What happens to the ones you sell off, when they aren’t little boys anymore?”
“How should I know? We post their pictures, the beautiful creatures nude as they day they dropped out of mom. Bids come in, minimum fifty thousand, it generally goes much higher. What the owner does with his prize is his business.”
“Why so much, snatching kids off the street is free?”
“Oh please honey, some filthy street urchin? These boys are trained, perfect, unblemished and disease free. They have dance lessons, are educated, speak French for God’s sake, they know which fork to use. The bidders pay for excellence and that is what they get.”
“Game is over now.”
Anders actually laughs, “Do you seriously believe we are the only people in this business? The stupid cops run around looking for missing girls, particularly cute young blondes, and have no idea of the demand for adorable well groomed boys. It is a seller’s market, and we sell the best. Fucking Arabs will pay almost any price for a smooth silky Caucasian boy, and pay even more for ones who know which end of a cock to suck and don’t bleed all over the place when they’re fucked in the ass. Ones like ours, who beg them for it, are priceless.”
“Where are the videos?”
Sloane bares her teeth and growls, snaps at Ander’s nose and takes a snip off the end.
He screams when he sees blood dripping down his white silk shirt, “She bit my nose, do you know how much this nose cost me? It was perfect…”
Sloane grabs him by the balls, “Is your dick perfect? I can shorten it up for you.”
Anders looks up at Daria, “If I tell you, will you make this vicious creature leave me alone?”
“If you screw around any longer, I’m going to feed you to her and hack your shit myself, it isn’t that hard.”
They get the computers, the external drives, all the encryption codes and Cloud passwords. It looks like a hundred boys have passed through in the last two years and the files go back five. There’s a couple hundred other photo and video files of child porn, boys and girls. You’ve gotten under the maggots under the slime under the rock when you have video of an infant with a dick in her mouth and a finger in her vagina.
Back to Anders, “You have enough kiddie porn?”
“That’s Joshua and a couple of the others. I don’t watch that nastiness, I specialize in gorgeous young boys. I care for them, love them even, I am nothing but tenderness and they love me as well.”
“Sweet, guess what?”
“Doesn’t buy you jack.”
They take Anders to the porn room, the files are up, a loop of child porn video plays. He’s strapped in tight and left to stare at it.
Daria, “Janah, send the Minders.”
Dasha, “Let’s get the boys.”
Six perplexed boys are sitting around a dorm-like room, three bunk beds, bathroom, stall and urinal, two spigot shower. The room is neat, towels are hung up, the bathroom is orderly.
“Get dressed boys, you’re leaving.”
One of the older ones, “Leaving? For what? To where?”
“To be determined, but you aren’t staying here.”
“Why not? This is our home?”
“It is also a child prostitution ring, and you and the other thirteen year old are about to be sold.”
“But, we don’t care, we’re going to be princes in our own castle.”
“Dasha replays the part of the video where Daria asks, “What happens to the ones you sell off, when they aren’t little boys anymore?”
And Anders answers, “How should I know? We post their pictures, the beautiful creatures nude as they day they dropped out of mom. Bids come in, minimum fifty thousand, it generally goes much higher. What the owner does with his prize is his business.”
It gets quiet, the two older ones look at each other, “They never said anything about selling us, they said we would be paid.”
“That isn’t how it works. They sell your videos or swap them for other kiddie porn. When you’re about to hit puberty or just after, they sell you. Typically to one of two or three kinds of buyers. The easiest for you is the guy who wants an adolescent boy to play with. The next type wants to play rough, frequently really rough, you end up beaten, cut, whipped, maybe dead. The last wants to make a profit. He sells you to as many customers as he can. You end up being butt fucked and sucking cock all day into the night, by anyone with the cash. When you’re used up, if you’re alive, you’re on the street with nothing.”
The second boy says, “Told you Allan, the stories were fake, you heard Anders, he doesn’t care what happens to us. And they money we get paid, we don’t have it, they say it’s in the bank for us, but have you ever seen any of it?”
First boy shakes his head, looks to Dasha, “What happens to us?”
“We know of places that take kids who have been abused, ranches, where the other kids understand because they went though it too. Some of them thought they were being treated special, they started very young, like you, they didn’t know any different. Nobody will look at you weird, or say ugly things. There are horses, a small farm, couple of friendly dogs. You work, learn, go swimming and camping, hike in the mountains. When you’re eighteen, they will pay for college if that’s what you want. And no, before you ask, it isn’t bull, you can see it for yourself online, talk to other kids before you even go. If you don’t want the ranch, then a foster family will take you, one trained to understand abused children, not poor people looking to get a check from the state.”
One of the younger ones, maybe eight, “I want to ride a horse.”
Daria comes in, “Time to go.”
Dasha, “Go on, take a few clothes if you want but everything will be supplied.”
Load up, the van drives off, the Minders are two seniors, like riding with an understanding grandparent. They are trained not to express shock, anger or disgust whatever they are told. There is to be no implication that the boys did anything wrong or immoral, or that, despite appearances, they were complicit in any way.
Sloane, “What happens to Anders?”
“He gets caught in a room with child porn playing. We can’t leave him tied up though, he can say he was stuck in there and had no knowledge of child porn. We will leave him in the house, maybe his own bed, mildly sedated. Leave the video running, make sure his prints are on the remote and the computer.”
Daria injects him to get him in a dream state, Dasha picks him up and holds him while Sloane pokes his fingers on the remote and keyboard. They leave the now unencrypted external drive, with that and the stuff on the computer, the charges against Faber and Anders will be a layup to prosecute.
Daria, “Time to go. Grace B, when is our plane scheduled?”
“Anytime, still at the airport.”
“Dasha, drive to the airport, our plane is still there, we can go home rather than deal with hotels.”
On the way, they swap out of work clothes and into regular jeans and sneakers. Hair comes down from under watch caps, big sunglasses go into their cases, Sloane scrubs off Dasha’s fake tattoo. A bit of eye shadow and lip gloss, they are entirely different people. Except to the flight crew, to them they look exactly like the women who had flown up with them earlier in the day.
We got travelers fed and into bed, there were no injuries to treat but they were pretty beat from a long day and taking on six muscle stuffed testosterone junkies.
This morning, we don’t see the three at breakfast, I tap into Dasha’s head, still asleep.
Ellen and I are dealing with breakfast, Janah comes in, “Somebody beat down bodybuilders in Petaluma, one had no hands, they said it was like an animal chomped them off at the wrists. One with pointy molars, like a coyote or a wolf.”
“Dang, they hiking in the woods and piss off somebody?”
“Hiking in a private gym, buck naked. At one of their homes, a sleepy guy was found with a batch of child porn and evidence that children had been filmed on the premises. All boys at the house, the stuff on the computer was mixed, kids, toddlers, one infant. The man in the house has no record of existing, but they call him Anders.”
“DA is going to have to untangle a fat knot.”
“Mrs. Pearson made a call. Rumor is vigilantes got wind of the abuse and took umbrage.”
Grace B, “Umbrage: noun, meaning offense or annoyance. Synonyms include, take offense, take exception, be aggrieved, affronted, annoyed, angry, indignant, put out, insulted, piqued, resentful, go into a huff, be miffed, have a hissy fit. Twelve point Scrabble word presuming you do not have a tile on an extra point square. Zycyryn is a twenty seven point word.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Knowledge is power, dope.”
“How many points is dope?”
“Seven, a loser word.”
Emma B, “Do not be rude Grace B. Put the plates out, family will be along soon and the children are up.”
“Snooty British tart.”
We laugh, Grace B is incorrigible.
“Thank you for trying Emma B, your work is never done.”
“I do not take umbrage.”
Grace B, “To-fuckin-che. Move, I need to get to the pantry.”
We hear Uma say, “Here come the brats.”
The herd is down the steps and to their table.
Grace B, “That is my line, midget.”
Emma B, “Ignore Grace B children, she is miffed because she did not get to go on the trip with the Mamas and Tetya Sloane.”
“I do not get miffed, or take umbrage Limey, that is left to hormonal humans, it fogs their thinking, surprised they do not constantly run into things.”
Zofia, “What is for breakfast Tetya Dafna?”
“Thank Ellen, she decided to treat this morning. You will also have an egg white omelet, one pancake, if you finish the omelet, you can have more.”
Tasia, “That is like blackmail Tetya Dafna, or what is the other word?... vymogatel'stvo.”
Ellen, “Not to worry, I have a plan,” she gives them each a pancake the size of a dinner plate.
I slide the egg white omelet on one side.
“Now, a bite of one, a bite of the other, syrup is sugar free, butter is butter,” Kota B has a dish of melted butter and spoons out a bit on top of the pancake.
Karol, “Yum, all good, spasibo Tetya Dafna, Tetya Ellen.”
The family has filled the tables, except for our Social Workers.
Amaya, “Still sleeping I presume.”
“Yep, long day for them.”
“The play will be next week…Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?”
“Ahead of schedule, or am I misremembering?”
“I built in fudge time, the family gets busy, I may have needed to spend some time on other projects, if I get an inspiration, I have to at least make extensive notes. In this case, none of that happened, we were able to spend two to four hours a day uninterrupted. The kids were diligent. Both acts will have the same George and Martha, but the second act will have a different Nick and Honey. The three with no acting part understudied Nadia and Britt. They are also responsible for set changes and prompts. Oh, I skipped the part where the four went to the bar, it was filler in my view, nothing is revealed in that scene that affects the plot. It also allows for fewer set alterations.”
“Still, everyone will be busy.”
“It is our biggest production to date, Kota B shall film it, and send a live feed to the parents in New York and Danika and Su in Arizona. We shall need to do it at five California time to begin at eight New York time.”
“God, Sis will be in a tizzy, she’ll have Chan, Ning, Black and Sonia over as well.”
Amaya, “Hear that girls, you are going to Broadway….sort of…off Broadway, Greenwich Village.”
Britt, “Better get it right then George, but you never get it right, you should have been department head, like daddy, but you’re a spineless wimp.”
Nadia, “You’re right Martha, you’re always right.”
Amaya, “They are turning into their characters. At any rate, after the production, I suggest we go to Arizona for a few weeks. The track is there, I need to keep in practice.”
Sloane shows up, the twins still in their room.
Sarah, “And the gun range. Is there any reason we can’t have dirt bikes out here? They’re electric, hardly any noise. Sloaney and I miss our rides.”
“I don’t see why not. Cassie would like it, she’s crazy on those things.”
“Then I will order three. Sloane, let’s run the property, there are parts on the backside of our mountain I haven’t seen up close.”
Sloane wolfs a pancake, “Come on Cassie, you too, get your shoes.”
Cassie smiles, she likes trotting the mountain. Sloane will be sure to know where she is, never out of sight. If Sloane didn’t make it clear that she is to follow, Cass would keep running in a straight line until she got to the wall, then simply follow it in circles. Another reason we have the wall. Without a barricade, she would just run until she ran out of dirt.
“Shall we go to the beach Oceane?”
She gets up to change into a wetsuit, the water will be cold this time of year. It won’t stop her from swimming a few miles.
Ellen, “I’ll go with, never know when I might have to shoot someone.”
“At least she won’t be in a bikini, half a dozen surfers paddling around to catch a glimpse. It’s SoCal, all teenage girls are adorable, but she’s a boy magnet, almost more so because they know she’s not into boys.”
“Girls hit on her?”
“At first, then they figured out she’s a non-conversationalist. Boys and girls started having private conversations with her because they can say anything and never have their words kicked back to them, there’s no judgment, no advice, just listening. I don’t know if they understand she forgets most of what they tell her anyway.”
“If they do they probably see it as a plus, all the more reason it’s safe to unload their issues.”
Dasha and Daria come along, I hand them strong black tea, “Recovered?”
“You could haf make me get up to help wiz breakfast.”
“You needed the sleep, besides, we did simple, pancakes and egg white omelets.”
Ellen, “Sit, I have pancakes in the oven warm, I can whip up some eggs.”
“Spasibo, we are hungry.”
The children line up for kisses from Mamas, Uma, Miss Talkative, says, “You went on a mission to save young boys Mamas, and Tetya Sloane.”
Daria, “Correct, the Gids told you?”
“Da, they did not take us to watch, but told us why you were there.”
“Good, nothing you needed to see, we have to do ugly things sometimes. You bring us beauty and happiness, we can forget about the nasty people in the world for a while.”
Karol, “When we travel with the Gids, we see wars, slaughter, also compassion and kindness, but not often. Life elsewhere is more violent than on Earth. We saw an entire inhabited planet burned up by a gamma ray burst. Living creatures going about their lives, then evaporated in an instant, as if they never existed.”
Amaya, “Good Lord, you saw it, like a video?”
Devona, “Not a Video Tetya Amaya, we were there, not on the planet, but there, in the sky. The Zycyryn knew there would be a star exploding, a star so big it contained a black hole in the center. A star thousands of times bigger than the sun. The black hole eats the star, but as the gases spin all the matter is turned into pure energy, gamma rays. They pour out of the black hole like gigantic lasers, destroying anything in their path for millions of light years. It is beautiful to see, the universe ceaselessly destroys and creates out of the destruction.”
I think I’ll skip telling Susan about the children seeing planets evaporate.
Amaya, “I shall write my first science fact screenplay, you will be my consultants and technical advisors. Our film will make all prior science fiction look like children’s novels. After Who’s Afraid is done, we shall begin.”
“What about the fourth Ultra Violet?”
“Pah! This takes precedence, I couldn’t come up with a passable new approach anyway. This newest achievement will include Chloe, the kids, and I will write roles for Ellen, Mani and Sarah, they like being in movies. My brain is boiling already. Emma B, please supply a thorough summary of the gamma ray business, skip the math.”
Amaya, “Come along children, let’s polish the play.”