Thursday Morning

Adam woke me before my PDA did. First I felt him get up, then I heard his alarm, then I drowsily watched him gather up his stuff. After that I listened to him taking a quick shower and going downstairs. It was six twenty.

I took a quick shower too, and then headed down to breakfast as I had on Tuesday. Walt and Adam were seated at the table and Cynthia was flipping pancakes. None of us was wearing a stitch; it seemed a bit odd. I mean, wherever you go, there are always some people wearing clothes.

Walt, like Cynthia, had the look of being twenty-five years old. That's an odd result of the injections; parents hardly look older than their teen-age kids. Of course, it was good for the libido, too. Walt gave me a quick once-over and immediately developed an erection. He didn't seem embarrassed by it, though, so neither was I. In fact, I kinda like knowing when I give someone an erection, even if they are a little older. I looked away before I started to get damp, though.

Adam and Walt were chattering like magpies about the stock dune buggy. Walt was asking questions as fast as he could think of them and Adam was mostly replying that he didn't know.

"Vivian, sit down and have some breakfast," said Walt after a few moments. I guess he expected me to do that without being asked but I was being careful. Anyway, by then, he was limp.

Cynthia, meanwhile, had served me a heaping stack of pancakes. At the same time she pushed a tub of butter, a rack of assorted syrups, a fruit mix of strawberries, blueberries, peaches, and a bowl of fresh whipped cream within reach. Then she held my shoulder for a second and told me to dig in.

"I was telling Vivian about your interest in old planes," Cynthia told Walt.

"When was this?" Adam asked.

"Yesterday evening, at work," Cynthia replied.

"Aviation has certainly advanced since the days of biplanes," I prompted.

"Well, flying isn't what it used to be," Walt observed. "It used to be something special. Young men signed up for the freedom and the glory and the respect. Being a pilot was a rare skill that people looked up to and respected. They came from miles away to see a man and a machine that could fly.

"Nowadays, pilots sit in the cockpit and watch a computer run the show. Other than training simulations, it's been years since anyone had to take over the controls. We're less than bus drivers. I think the airlines keep us mainly for the image and the publicity."

"Did you every fly one of those old planes?" I asked.

"No, I flew a couple of small planes in flight school, but even those were computer-monitored. The computers stopped you from making a mistake or deviating from the flight plan. The annual certification tests and the training that leads up to them are all on simulators."

"That's too bad," I remarked. "Did you ever see one, at least?"

"Nope. Never flew one; never saw one. They're all gone. I never even met anyone who saw one: not a genuine, original biplane."

"Well, you never know," I replied. "You coulda met someone who just didn't mention it."

Walt gave me a funny look just then, as did Adam and Cynthia. In a flash I mentally replayed the conversation and decided I was still OK. Even so, I tried changing the topic.

"I guess you're interested in dune buggies too, eh?" I asked.

"Well, yeah, but not like old planes," Walt reverted. "It's a shame, really. I mean, with all the color, and legends, and history behind those planes, you'd think someone could keep a few running. If it weren't for those old planes, and the men who built them, and the men who flew them, where would we be today? Still clinging to the dirt, that's where! You think we'd have ocean liners crossing the Pacific in a couple of hours? No, I don't think so. We have artifacts from the Egyptians, and the Greeks, and the Romans, and the Mayans and Incas that date back thousands of years!. But can we keep a few great old planes -- the dawn of aviation -- for even a hundred or a hundred and fifty years? No, and it's a damn shame. Do you understand what I'm talking about?"

"Yes, I think I do," I had to reply. "I hope your dream comes true someday."

"So do I, Vivian, so do I. But when something like that is gone, it's gone. Even if they could build a replica, it wouldn't be the same. This dune buggy, though, that's here and now. It's for real, right? You're in on this too, aren't you?"

Just a little, I thought. What I said, though, was, "Yeah, it's a Dunemaster Desert Fox, lime green, last year's model. The new ones aren't that much different, though. New tail lights, new hub caps, that's about it. It looks like a pretty nice machine."

"Do you think we could all go and see it today?" Walt asked.

"I'm sure it'll be at Bushie's all day," I replied. "Ollie Chan -- that's Bushie's chief mechanic -- still needs to install some of the optional equipment and check everything out. They'll be giving it a custom paint job too, but I guess that'll be tomorrow."

"Wow, a custom paint job!" Walt remarked.

"It's mostly advertising and manufacturer's decals," I explained. "Anyway, I guess after school would be the best time for Adam and me. We're busy until four o'clock but maybe we could meet you at Bushie's shortly after that."

"Does that work for you, Adam?" Walt asked.

"Yeah, I can be a little late for swim practice," Adam decided. "I better get going for morning workouts, through. I shouldn't be late for both."

Cynthia gave Adam a wink, then he got up and carried his plate to the dishwasher, ever-hard dick bobbing as he walked. "Have a good day, dear" Cynthia told him, and then she gave him a hug.

Adam seemed a little freaked out about the hug, and even more so when Walt hugged him. Adam hugged back, though, and then raced out to the driveway. I probably could have caught him but I let the moment pass.

"I have some work to do before school. Is it OK if I use the computer in the guest room again?" I asked Cynthia.

"Of course. There's no need to ask," Cynthia replied.

Actually, Cynthia was closer than she thought. After carrying off my dishes and helping put everything else away, I designed the course for Bushie's test track.

Actually, it wasn't that tough. First I called up aerial photos and topographical maps of Bushie's back lot, just as I had for Shallow Chasm. There are only a few basic course designs so I drew in the one with the best fit, double-checked it, embellished it with a few extras, and e-mailed the whole thing to Bushman. All in all, it turned out cooler than I expected.

After that I finished my homework, thanked Cynthia for the overnight stay and the breakfast, and took my time driving to school. Yeah, that means I drove past both the police station and the firehouse to watch the guys work out. They all waved and so did I, but it was worth it.

Pietre showed up for Honors Seminar without his pants and looking great because of it. Somehow, his proportions were just right. Nice length shaft, nice thickness, foreskin intact, balls hanging easily without dangling. I never understood why he wore pants at all. A lot of guys looked a lot worse and never wore pants.

Of course he spotted me looking. I looked up, and then he looked back and smiled gingerly. When he sat down next to me as usual, I took hold of him and pulled back the foreskin a little. Pietre massaged the back of my neck for a minute; then the bell rang.

Thursday at School

Period 1 - Honors Seminar

"Good morning, students and staff," Holloway began. "First, I want to remind everyone again that tomorrow is spirit day at Bald Mountain High. That means game uniform code for all of you in sports teams, cheerleading, pompom, band, and other organizations who've chosen to comply. In addition, everyone should wear the puce and chartreuse to the maximum extent possible.

"Second, I encourage everyone, when urinating, to use the toilets and other fixtures that the school board has provided. However, if that's not possible, at least try to use a sewer grating or some other drain fixture. Otherwise, the smell builds up. I'm sure some of you are starting to notice, especially in the bushes outside my office. To make the sewer gratings easier to find, custodians will be marking them today. Look for the orange flags with blue restroom icons on the pole.

"If anyone else would like to share experiences or discuss problems related to The Program, don't forget the daily support group after school. It's in the drama shop.

"Please keep in mind that The Program continues as usual next week. If this would be a good time for you or your group to satisfy your Program requirements, fill out a request and get it to the office before first period tomorrow.

"Finally, we all know that tomorrow is Friday the Thirteenth. There's no rule against having some fun with that, but all normal school rules will remain in effect. Triple fun or triple trouble: the choice is yours.

"That's all for this morning," Holloway concluded. "Have an enjoyable and productive day."

Pietre seemed close to cumming but when the lights came on, he gently pushed my hand away. Then, for the day's presentation, Lance Lorusso and Liza Lanahan explained the use of differential equations for analyzing stochastic processes.

Lance and Liza were both incrementally acclimatizing for an upcoming Mathletics competition. In other words, they'd chucked their pants and were trying to feel OK about it. It seemed neither of them could figure out how to stand.

Personally, I could empathize. I was trying to figure out a few things myself. Why had I roped myself into all the stuff I'd planned for the coming weekend?

I guess I was trying to do a favor for Adam, in return for all the things he'd done for me the previous week. But was it too much? Could it all possibly work? Why was I doing so many things I'd sworn never again to do? Was I doing it for him or for me?

Why couldn't things with Adam be simple, as they were with Pietre? Because Pietre and I had much lower expectations, I suspected. We were just casual friends who'd never promised to trust each other.

When class ended I took charge of Pietre again and kept at it for thirty seconds while most of the students left. Then I knelt in front of Pietre and brought him off, just as Liza Lanahan was doing for Lance Lorusso. Maharishi didn't care as long as we swallowed or at least cleaned up before the next class. I swallowed.

"Sorry to eat and run, but I gotta eat and run," I told Pietre.

"OK, if that's what you want," he replied. "See you in English."

"Yeah, English," I agreed, and then I stepped into the hall and called Marjorie at the hospital. For once, she answered.

"You doin' OK?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah, I'm better than I was," Marjorie replied weakly.

"I wanted to come and visit, but the hospital's keeps telling me you're not accepting visitors. Are you sure you're OK?"

"Sorry about that, but you shouldn't worry about it," Marjorie explained. "I just felt so bad, and I was sure I looked even worse, and I just wasn't up to facing anyone. But now I'm past the worst and feeling much better about myself."

"Can I see you today, then?"

"There's no need. I'm sure you're busy with school and your job and everything. Anyway, they say I'm getting out tomorrow, so don' worry about today. You gettin' by OK without me these few days?"

"Yeah, pretty well," I had to admit. After all, I took more care of Marjorie than she took of me.

"OK, then. I'll call you tomorrow afternoon when they say I'm ready to go. You take care of yourself now."

"OK Marge, I will," I assured her, then she disconnected.

A split second later my PDA announced a call from Bushman. I was on my way to Communications by then but told my PDA to accept the call anyway.

"Vivian, are you aware of anyone going back to the shop after it was closed last night?" Bushman asked nervously.

"No, I don't think anyone did. After we left the shop last night, Nadia and I met Dan and Lucy Lastic at Edgar Robinsong's to go over some legal matters. After that I went to Adam's house and stayed overnight. Dan and Nadia left together and I don't think they were headed back to the shop. Why?"

"Well, someone broke in and removed all but one lug nut from the Dunemaster's front right tire. It was lucky that whoever did this didn't fully seat the wheel cover, and that Ollie noticed it. Somebody could've been seriously hurt," Bushman explained.

"No kidding. Somebody could've been killed," I said.

"Well, I've called the police," Bushman stated. "When they get here I'll file a report and request extra surveillance. But you kids need to watch yourselves. It seems someone out there doesn't like our arrangement."

"OK. I'll be careful, and I'll pass the word around. And if I hear or see anything, I'll let you know," I promised.

"All right. Oh, the police are here. Let's keep in touch, OK?" said Bushman.

"OK," I agreed, then we disconnected. The old crap was starting up again.

Period 2 - Communications

Outside Communications class I managed to catch a moment with Tess Palmer, the drama princess. For once she seemed to be avoiding her Master Thespian act.

"Tess, do you have a minute?" I asked.

"Only," she replied. "What's up?"

"Well, I'm organizing an event and it really needs a media coordinator. Would you like to do something like that?"

"Like what? Pop CD's in a boom box?"

"No, were getting a live band, or maybe two or three. Crystal Cleary's working on that. I was hoping you'd help us with the television coverage."

"Television!?" Tess repeated, suddenly much more interested.

"Yes, exactly," I confirmed. "The event is a major exposition at Bushie's Off-Road on Saturday. We're hoping for some spot coverage, some man-on-the street interviews, some news spots, that sort of thing."

"Do you have any contacts I can work with?" Tess asked.

"Yes. First I'd suggest Wendy Ahern, of NewsChannel 17 in Wheatfield Beach. She's the one who found Adam and me on the beach and turned us into the story of the day. You can also call Hilda Clipperd, who produces all the commercials and other spots for Bushie's Off-Road. I'm sure she knows all the industry people here in town."

"I dunno. Two days isn't much time," Tess hesitated.

"Well, look. If you want to finagle some air time for yourself, go for it. Maybe you could do some interviews or voice-overs. Or more. All we want is air time."

That was all Tess needed. It was a good thing, too, because at that instant the bell started ringing. Tess and I both rushed into the classroom and sat on either side of Adam, who'd reserved a sofa by taking the middle seat.

The class material was mostly lecture; Magnusson talked about the history, characteristics, structure, and operational style of various mass media, including books, newspapers, magazines, movies, radio, television, recording industry, computing, and on-line access. Yada, yada, yada. I started drifting off.

Unfortunately, so did Tess, and her attention drifted toward Adam. First she caught his eye, and then she caught his thigh. Pretty soon she noticed me watching, gave me a direct look, and raised an eyebrow. I shrugged. After all, no one had mentioned the word exclusive. Then there was the matter of Pietre. I guess Tess was acting no differently than anyone else. Than me.

Magnusson droned on about the early development of wireless networking and I put my hand on Adam's other leg. Adam quickly seemed, if possible, even harder than usual. Tess moved her hand again, first to his balls, then to the base of his shaft. I suppose she didn't know what to expect. You'd think word would get around.

Adam tried to push her away but it was too late. One spurt hit the next aisle, then Tess caught him with her hand, then she bent forward and caught him by mouth. Or at least, she tried. Some of it got in her hair, some dribbled down her chin, and some oozed onto her left tit.

Eventually, of course, Adam stopped and Tess sat up. Adam had quite a mess in his lap, but Tess had one on her face. Without much success, she tried using her clean hand to wipe her face. What little she got she rubbed on her leg, and then she had two sticky hands.

Magnusson was still droning on but I'm sure he'd noticed something by then. He seemed to enter some notes in his grading files, but he didn't throw out a box of tissues or a roll of paper towels like he usually did.

When the bell rang all three of us raced for the restroom. The place was already crowded but somehow we jammed into one shower and got clean. After that we got mostly dry, then Tess and Adam ran off together for English class. Wonderful.

Crystal waved and caught my eye just as I was leaving the restroom. I didn't really care to watch her wipe, stand, and flush, so I just pointed to the door and waited in the hallway.

"Vivian, I found an embroiderer for the hats," Crystal began. "I hope he's OK."

"Why, who is it?"

Well, remember what you said. You wanted someone who never does business on this side of town."

"Yeah, so?"

"Well, it's a crazy old white-haired guy who works out of a trailer. It's parked in a barnyard on the east side, just beyond the city limits. I guess he's only been in town for a few weeks. My seamstress met him at a supply shop."

"Is something wrong with him?" I asked.

"Well, first he took your hat and wouldn't give it back to me. Then he wanted to know how I'd gotten it. So I told him you'd given it to me, and the second I mentioned your name he was all over me with questions. He wanted to know where you were and what you were doing. Of course, I didn't tell him exactly."

"Then what?"

"Well then he dug into this huge box, took out a hat of his own, and gave me yours back! He going to make up two dozen more, but he refuses to charge us and he'll only deliver them to you. He made me take his PDA address. Does any of that make sense?"

"Yes, it makes perfect sense. In fact, you've done better than you can possibly imagine," I reassured Crystal. "The guy's name was Stitch, right?"

"Yes, but how could you possibly know that? Have you been messing with me? Was this some kind of scavenger hunt or test?"

"No, it was just a lucky day for both of us, that's all," I replied. "Hey, two more things. Do you think you could get the pompom girls to perform on Saturday?"

"Where?"

"At Bushie's Off-Road. There's gonna be sort of a major exhibition there."

"I dunno, but I can ask. What else?"

"You know a lot of guys. Do any of 'em play in bands?"

"Yeah, a few of them. Musicians have that aura, you know?"

"Yeah, so I hear. If the bands are any good, do you think they could play at Bushie's on Saturday?"

"At Bushie's? That's kind of odd. Is this a paying gig?"

"Maybe. It depends on how many people come. I think there's going to be a lot, but you never know. It might have to be a percentage, or just exposure."

"OK, I'll ask. Is there anything else? Because I don't want to be late for class..."

"No, if you could handle those two things, that'd be great," I reassured her, and then she was off. I swear, there were guys turning around and going the wrong direction just to watch her jiggle.

Time was short but I sent a text message to all the restaurants: Finer Diner, Guido's Quick Fill, Erubio's Super Mex, Lai King's Ping Pong Café and Truck Stop, and a few others from out of town. At the last second I added Griddle of Nowhere.

By then I was rushing through the hall, tying to make College English. Even so I managed to dial a fifty-digit unlisted phone number, wait for the sixth ring, dial twelve more digits, listen for the end of the non-working number message, and then begin recording:

"Memphis, this is Vivian. I know, I know; long time no see. We'll talk later. Have Manny or Ted call me back at this number, woudja? It's important. When you see Rosie, tell her Magic's doing fine. Gotta run. Bang! Over and out."

With only seconds left before the bell I called Ian Strommer. Yeah, that Ian Strommer. Of course I know his personal unlisted number: I'm the one who bought it for him when the Crimson Condors were still a garage band. I managed to record, "Ian, it's Vivian. Call me back..." and then the bell rang and the call went dead.

Period 3 - College English

Arriving for class at the last second has its advantages, but its drawbacks as well. That time I ended up sitting nowhere near Pietre, which might have been interesting. Instead I ended up between Brenda Geiss and Loretta Manlesse, who'd rushed in right behind me. They were both wearing wispy little bras and thigh high stockings so they could watch each other finger themselves. I considered giving them the address where Courtney Bomzer's estranged stepmother and her lesbian spouses staged daily orgies, but there was no guarantee Brenda and Loretta would wait until after school.

Atkins and his foot-long dick with the five piercings continued lecturing about Henry David Thoreau. The thing was, it turned out ol' Henry was a bit of a nudist. For example, in 1854 he wrote:

It is an interesting question how far men would retain their relative rank if they were divested of their clothes.

And in Walden he stated:

Beware of all enterprises that require new clothes.

And in Journals:

What a singular fact for an angel visitant to this earth to carry back in his note-book, that men were forbidden to expose their bodies under the severest penalties!

Of course, most of the other stuff he wrote was pretty boring. Atkins was usually pretty boring as well, but listening to him was still better than watching Brenda and Loretta play with themselves. And listening to the lecture did make homework go faster.

As soon as the period was over my PDA signaled a message from Magic. Hurriedly I moved to a sheltered corner and called her back.

Seconds later there they were, Reb and Magic standing together outside a hamburger joint just like old times. Magic was holding her PDA at arms length. We used to do that a lot.

"Hi guys! It looks like you're at the edge of town. Did you just pull in?" I greeted them.

"Yeah, we got packed yesterday and drove all night," Magic explained. Then she panned over so I could see her motor home and two trailers. Did you ever see an all-terrain motor home? Imagine an old-time road grader with a survival pod slung beneath, top speed a hundred and fifty miles an hour. I suppose it was even faster on pavement but no one had ever bothered to check.

"Is that The Bullet?" I asked, obviously referring to the smaller trailer. The larger one was Magic's pit trailer.

"Yeah, what's left of it," admitted Reb.

"It wasn't your fault, Reb. It wasn't anybody's fault but Trans-Cal's."

"Bastards," we all said together.

"So what's the schedule?" Reb asked impatiently.

"You have a reservation at the Banana Tryst Motel on Nooner Street. Check in anytime after one."

"Under what name?" asked Reb.

"The usual. Yeah, I know; we need a new one. Get settled, look around town, and I'll met you at Bushie's Off-Road at five o'clock."

"That's a lot of dead time," Reb remarked.

"Well, I've got school and some other commitments. I didn't know when you were coming. If you need something, you've got my number."

"Yeah, all right. I guess you've got Magic's number now, and mine's the same as the other day. Anything else?" Reb asked.

"Just Bang!" I stated, then the others said Bang! and disconnected.

I couldn't believe this was happening. I'd promised myself it never would.

Lunch Period

The lunch menu was, as usual, grim. For once they had four choices, but the four were squid tacos, octopus wrapped in seaweed, jalapeño ham hocks, and iguana steaks. I took a pass and silently resolved to start brown-bagging.

Adam, Crystal, and Teah all took the squid tacos. As a result, they all took the express route to the washroom.

"Have you found any dirt on Dee Muntz yet?" I asked Ben and Nadia.

"Nothing definite," Nadia replied. "But when Dee left school after the first half of her junior year, she had her transcript sent to a school in Tunsavon City. Normally that indicates a permanent transfer, not a temporary absence."

"Seems dirty to me," I remarked.

"Normally I'd agree, but the Featherton clinic is just outside Tunsavon City. Dee might have been planning to get tutoring from the high school there."

"What about you?" I asked Ben.

"I'm not getting any tutoring," he replied.

"Very funny. Have you found anything suspicious about Dee?" I asked.

"Well, the whole family's home and PDA addresses disappeared from directory assistance about the time Dee left school," he replied. "But they could have just unlisted them. People do that to cut down on spam, you know?"

"Yeah, that's a fact," I replied. "Will you keep looking?"

"Sure," said Ben and Nadia, almost in unison.

"Dan, are you up for some more work?" I asked.

"Like what?" he wanted to know.

"We need someone to organize all the workers and event schedules for Saturday."

"You mean, like, the jeep and dune buggy rides? I thought you and Adam had that covered."

"Well, yeah, but there are more drivers than just me and Adam. Then there's parking, guides, ticket sales, the food vendors, the bands, side shows, street performers, security, media relations, public address, power, water, toilets, and so forth. Here's my tentative list," I explained, showing him my PDA screen.

"Wow! This is just for Saturday?" Dan asked excitedly.

"That's right," I confirmed. "Out at Shallow Chasm, we'll also have to worry about bleachers, concessions, fuel storage, fire control, officials, medics, and whatever. I don't know how we're going to get electricity, water, and sanitation out there. For now, though, I just need some help for Saturday. Are you game?"

"You're asking me to be the event organizer; is that it?" Dan asked.

"Yeah, I think you could be the man with the clipboard. You seem to enjoy organizing things. Why not?" I pushed.

"It's true; you've got me pegged," Dan replied. "I love it when a plan comes together. I'll do it. Send me what you already have."

"There's one more thing," I told Dan. "Some of these events have to remain top secret. I'll be arranging them personally. For now, just assume they'll happen at the time I've indicated. If something changes, I'll let you know. In the meantime, don't even mention those events to anyone else. Can you live with that?"

"Uh, let's see," urged Dan, so I showed him the complete list. The top secret events appeared in purple. Dan's jaw dropped, then his eyes popped open, then they began to water.

"Vivian, this is... How... This can't be..." he stammered.

"Sssh," I urged as I blanked my PDA screen. "None of those events are a done deal. They could very easily fall through. Nevertheless, I need to know: can you keep those events secret?"

"Yes," Dan affirmed. "But wow! If they pan out, I'd be organizing..."

"Sssh," I urged again.

"I'd like to help Dan," Nadia volunteered.

"Curious?" I probed.

"No, I just thought I could help. If you want to lock the secret events so I can't see them, that's fine. I'll help with the rest," Nadia assured me.

"Is that OK with you?" I asked Dan.

"Sure," he replied.

"All right, I'll take that deal," I decided. Then, without giving Nadia access to the secret events, I sent my agenda and list of workers to both of them.

"Can you both meet me at Bushie's at four thirty?" I asked.

"Sure," they both agreed.

Dee, as usual, was entertaining a line of people who wanted a look at her. Every now and then she'd hump somebody. I guess she'd noticed us looking at her, though, because she sauntered over to say hello.

"Hi, Viv. I noticed you and your friends looking at me. Is everything OK?" Her tongue was hanging out of the left side of her mouth, whatever that meant.

"Oh, sure," I replied. "I've just, you know, been going to class, and work, and making plans for the weekend. What about you?"

"Oh, pretty much the same," she replied, licking the corner of one eye.

"Do you have a job, then?" I probed.

"What? Oh, no, not really. Just odd jobs every now and then." By then her tongue was on the right side. Curious.

"You got plans for the weekend, then?" Dee asked.

"Well, on Saturday Adam and I are giving jeep and dune buggy rides at Bushie's Off-Road. Or did you already know that?" I asked.

"Well, yeah. You know; word gets around. Anything Sunday?"

"Nothing certain. Why? What have you heard?" I probed again.

"What? Oh, nothing! I just... I was just making conversation."

At that point, I think Dee suspected I was testing her. Damn straight! Much to my chagrin, publicity about the dune buggy rides at Bushie's wasn't getting around yet.

Dee chose that moment to wander off but on her way she passed Adam and Crystal. I swear that for a second it looked like she was going to make a pass at Crystal, but then she shifted to Adam. She bumped hips and got one arm around him but he pushed her away before she took things further. Maybe it was her purple contacts; I don't think Adam was into that.

For sure, though, I had to agree with Ben and Nadia: Something about Dee was suspicious.

"I thought you and Nadia didn't get along," I told Dan as we left the cafeteria.

"Well, Teah and I aren't exclusive any more," he explained. "She wants to hang around with her pissy friends part of the time now. And as for Nadia, well, I was really pissed at her for a long time after she talked me into this PA. But since I've been in the Program this week, a lot of girls have told me that they like it, and they're curious how it would feel inside them. So maybe it wasn't such a bad idea after all."

"I know. I've been curious myself," I admitted. Then we stared at each other for an odd moment, blinked, and headed separately to class.

As I passed the kitchen the smell of squid tacos and iguana steaks made me wish for decent food. That, in turn, reminded me of the restaurants. According to my PDA, they'd all called back and they all wanted in. Silently, I hoped we'd have enough spectators to keep them busy. Perhaps, I thought, we needed more events.

Dan was in the washroom, pissing in a shower stall with half a dozen girls and two guys watching him. Half of his piss came out the regular hole, but at an odd angle. The other half came out the bottom, thorough the extra hole the PA had made. For the first time I seriously considered using a grating, just to get out of there. In the end, though, I used a toilet in the back corner and then hurried off to History. Nobody noticed.

Period 4 - History

Adam was getting better at avoiding Reasonable Requests. Outside History class, he requested that Erin and Katie should talk Dora, Esther, Indira, Lakisha, and Noreen into letting the naked girls undress them one at a time. Furthermore, once a girl was naked, he wanted her to help Erin and Katie undress the rest.

"Take it slow, though," Adam urged. "Make it last a long time."

Dora was wearing a gray t-shirt and black sweat shorts, both oversized. Beneath that, she had a lacy, almost transparent lavender bra and miniscule but matching French cut panties. She also had two belly-button piercings, and she had tribal tattoos on her thighs, abs, and back.

Esther was wearing two eight-foot silk scarves, one on each shoulder. She had them tied between her shoulder blades and between her breasts. Even taking things slow, undressing her took only seconds.

Indira was sporting a widely-woven mesh blouse, a narrow belt, and a hip sash on each side. She didn't take long either.

Lakisha, the goth, was sort of wearing a lacy black bra with one strap missing. The cup with the missing strap hung oddly upside down. Down below, she was wearing a garter belt and one stocking. Getting her naked took a while because stuff kept getting stuck on her piercings

Noreen had a full-length, full slit dress. A slit on each side ran up to the armpits, and slits in the front and back ran up to the neckline.

Adam watched the whole process intently and kept telling the girls to slow down. As a result, they didn't finish before the start of class and Adam didn't have to start performing any Reasonable Requests of his own.

History was a bore. What else can I say?

After class, of course, Adam made the girls finish undressing each other. After that, he tried to make them dress each other, but they all needed to get to class. That, at least, blocked any new Reasonable Requests.

I was halfway between classes when Manny called back. "Vivian, it's been too long. We all miss you. Where have you been?"

"Here," I replied stupidly. I was sure Manny's PDA, or base station, or whatever he was using showed my location. Then I told him what I had in mind and asked, "Do you think you guys could help me out?"

"Sure, Vivian, for you and for old time's sake, I'm sure we can do that. It's a little more publicity than we like but I'm sure it'll be OK."

"Wait, there's more," I explained. Then I told him what I had in mind for the Condors.

"Wow, I love it!" Manny exclaimed. "I'm sure the rangers will go for it as well. I'll have to check with them, but I'm pretty sure that if the Condors are willing, so are we."

"Sounds great, Manny. I'll be in touch."

"Sweetheart, that's all I ask," Manny assured me, then we disconnected.

Now, if we could just get some media coverage and publicity.

My PDA rang again just as class was about to start. Ian's face and location appeared on screen, he said, "Viv, I'm so glad you...," then the bell rang and the signal went dead.

Period 5 - Law

Julio, Melinda, Elwood, and Ursula were all standing and chatting near the defense table, all bottomless or better. I guess that made them some kind of clique.

Tamala McWalters and Steve Owsley tried joining but the others ignored them until Tamala removed her chaps and Steve removed his kilt. I guess I passed the uniform requirement but I really wanted no part of that group. Instead, I took a seat for the prosecution.

Nothing, of course, can ever be simple. The instant I sat down, Brenda Geiss and Loretta Manlesse, still wearing their wispy bras and thigh-high stockings, took places on either side of me.

"I guess that crowd at the defense table isn't your type," Brenda addressed me.

"We thought that since you sat between us this morning, you might like doing it again," Loretta suggested as she slid her finger into place. Yeah, that place.

"Sorry, but you're not really my type either," I replied.

"That's OK. Some girls take a while to make up their mind, that's all," said Loretta. Then she, too, slid her finger into place.

Consuelo was hardly any better. She entered the room wearing a dark hooded robe, then dropped it when she called the class to order. This left her wearing a black demi-bra and a lacy pair of crotchless French panties. To preserve some sense of decorum, she donned a lacy, nearly transparent little bib apron before sitting down.

We spent the whole class concentrating on the case study. Everyone, that is, except Brenda and Loretta. And quite possibly Consuelo.

As soon as class ended I checked for messages and sure enough, there was one from Ian.

"Viv, I'm so glad you called. I guess you got disconnected. Well, I'll leave a message too. Gosh, it's great to hear from you. Does this mean we're speaking again? I'm sorry about that other business. If you don't want our relationship to be exclusive, that's fine with me. If you don't want to perform with the band, that's fine too. I guess you've noticed we're getting along OK. Not that we wouldn't like to have you back. But you wouldn't have to. Play, I mean. Gosh, I'm rambling, aren't I? It's just good to hear from you... Uh, look; I'll keep trying to call you, and you keep trying to call me, OK? Are you going to be in town there all weekend? Maybe we can get together. I'll be waiting. Bang!"

Damn, I thought. Nothing can ever be easy. Nevertheless, I called Ian back. No answer. According to the message, he was in a recording session and all calls were blocked. Wonderful. After listening to his message, I wasn't even sure I wanted to talk with him. At least not interactively. Anyway, I left him a message explaining what I had in mind and that was that.

With that business out of the way, or at least in Ian's court, I headed across the quad and toward the Math wing. Believe it or not, waiting lines had formed behind the marked sewer gratings where it was OK to take a pee. Teah was halfway to the back. Tamala McWalters and Steve Owsley were all the way back and didn't seem likely to get a turn before the next class. I suppose they went on the lawn but I didn't stick around to find out.

Adam and Rita Rodriguez were walking the other way, from fifth period Math to sixth period Spanish. They were laughing, giggling, and bumping into each other. I suppose it was about time that Adam needed some relief. It was always time that he needed relief. For the thousandth time I reminded myself that no one had mentioned the word exclusive.

Pietre met me just outside the door into the building. There was a soft grassy berm there where people got their jollies. In fact, three or four couples were already doing just that. Pietre seemed ready to return my favor from Honors Seminar, but I waved him off. For one thing, it was almost time for class to start. For another, I didn't have a hair trigger like Adam. And finally, I wanted to check on Reb and Magic.

Naturally, neither Reb nor Magic answered.

There were no catfights outside Leibniz's Calculus room, and it was a good thing. Neither Petunia nor Yulan had much to lose. They were both wearing skinny ties, plain white bras, black thongs, and their ubiquitous white knee socks and buckle shoes.

Period 6 - Calculus

Leibniz did her best to make the lecture interesting but let's face it: For most people, Math will never be as interesting as, say, sex. Pietre, Julio, and I managed to sit together and that made it a little more interesting, but it was still a Math lecture. Then again, I needed to pass the course to graduate, and if I was going to pass it I might as well ace it. I hear that's the sort of thing admissions clerks go for.

After class, Pietre wandered off with Petunia and Julio disappeared with Yulan. I bet they had themselves a real nice Qigong.

As for me, I took a nice conventional pee on a nice conventional toilet and then headed for Holloway's whippy-dippy Naked In School support group session. Whoopee.

Thursday After School

Support group attendance, at least, seemed to be down. Instead of being packed, the room was only half full. If there was any joy, that was it.

Dee Muntz was still hanging around but at least she didn't insist on sitting with the moderators. Maybe she was tired of getting her arm yanked.

The first student with a so-called problem was Marilyn Lipsche, a luscious blonde who made Crystal look plain. And believe me, Crystal knew it.

"Hello everyone," Marilyn began in her melodious little sing-song voice. "I'm Marilyn Lipsche and I'm Naked In School."

As if anyone didn't know that. Nevertheless, we all answered, "Hi, Marilyn."

"Well, I'm worried about this mole here on my right breast? Do you see it? I'll walk around and show it if you like."

A couple of guys seemed ready to volunteer but Nystrom told Marilyn that wouldn't be necessary.

"Well, I know that moles can be beauty marks, but do you think this one is? Because it's, you know, on my breast rather than my face. And my left breast doesn't have one, see? And this mole on the right, it seems to have gotten a little darker lately. Do you think it's too dark now?"

Oh brother. None of us on the panel had to say a thing. Half a dozen guys escorted Marilyn out of the room for a closer inspection and final ruling.

"Hi, my name is Ziggy Zaleski and I'm Naked In School," began the next speaker.

"Hi, Ziggy," everyone answered.

"Well, my parents are in, like, a quad marriage? You know, my dads are gay and my moms are lesbian? Well, I want to get this naked business over with, you know? So I've been going naked everywhere, not just at school? So, I'm naked at home, too, right?"

"We understand," Teah said.

"Well, I think my dads have been looking at me differently this week, you know?" Ziggy stated, or asked, or whatever.

"Tell us how," Teah suggested.

"Well, instead of just noticing me, they both kind of stare at me, you know? And like, would you believe that a couple of times I think they got erections from me? Is that possible?"

"Well, if they're gay, I guess that would be natural," Nadia supposed. "Tell us anything else that might be important."

"You mean, like touching me or propositioning me?" Ziggy asked.

"Yes, that's what I mean," Nadia confirmed.

"No, none of that. Is that OK?"

"It is if that's what you want," Crystal stated.

"Oh, yeah, I don't go for either of my dads, you know? Don't you think that I, my brother and my two sisters are enough for each other?"

"Yes, I imagine they are," said Dan with some astonishment.

"Hi, my name is Carina Granato and I'm Naked In School," began the next head case.

"Hi, Carina," everyone answered.

"Well, my problem is this: I wonder if my new boyfriend will still like me after I go off The Program," Carina stated.

"Have you asked him?" Adam questioned.

"Oh, yeah, I did, and he says it won't make any difference. But he never noticed me until I was in the program, you know? So when I'm wearing clothes again, he might change his mind."

"If so, maybe he's a jerk and you're better off without him," Nadia suggested.

"Who says you have to start wearing clothes after you go off The Program?" Crystal asked.

"Well, nobody, I guess. My Mom asked me the same question. I just thought... OK, thanks."

"Hello, my name is Quinton Riley," began the next speaker.

"Hi, Quinton," everyone replied.

"My problem is that I can't stop touching myself," Quinton explained.

"If you mean you can't stop masturbating, that's more common than you probably think. Look around any classroom," Dan observed.

"No, not masturbating. Just... anywhere! Like, where can I put my hands? If I put them on my legs, then I'm touching my legs. If I put them on my waist, then I'm touching my waist. If I fold my arms, I'm touching my chest and my nipples. I don't want people to see me touching myself all over."

"I'm not sure there's much you can do about that," stated Dan after no one else found an answer. "I mean, everyone else is in the same boat. Look around the room, here. Everyone's hands are somewhere, and not just arms, legs, and chest. Other people really don't notice that much."

Suddenly at least half a dozen hands moved off their owner's thighs. Another half dozen didn't.

"Uh, OK, thanks," said Quinton.

"Maybe I can help you with that problem," said the girl sitting next to him, who hadn't moved her hand.

"Hello, everyone. My name is Eleanor Tuholski and as you can see, I'm Naked In School."

"Hello, Eleanor," we all replied.

"My problem is that I work in a clothing store and my boss keeps pressuring me to wear clothes," Eleanor explained.

"Did you sign up for seven by twenty-four? Is that it?" Ben asked.

"No, it's just that after being naked all day Monday at school, I thought, why get dressed to go home? And then, why get dressed for dinner? And then, why get dressed for work?"

"You might have to speak with a lawyer about this," Nadia suggested.

"Why?"

"There are laws and court rulings that grant anyone the right to be naked anywhere," Nurse Nystrom explained. "But employers can still require their workers to be in uniform. I'm sure you can see the contradiction there. It would probably take a lawyer to sort that out."

"What kind of clothing store is it?" Teah asked.

"Oh, it's Naufzinger's, the department store at the mall," Eleanor replied.

"What department?" Ben queried.

"Women's wear," said Eleanor.

"Maybe you could transfer to menswear," suggested Crystal, and Eleanor sat down.

Nystrom allowed a few minutes for anyone else to stand but no one did. That meant the group broke up a three forty-five, which was fine by me. Adam left his car in the parking lot and drove us both to Bushman's in the jeep.

Walt arrived at Bushie's Off-Road right at four o'clock, as did we. As I expected, Ollie had the Dunemaster fairly torn apart and there was still a pile of accessories waiting to be installed. Walt and Adam checked through all the boxes -- empty and full -- and were duly impressed. This was going to be one tricked-out Dunemaster, all right. I just hoped it wouldn't be too heavy.

At four twenty-five Walt gave Adam a ride to swimming practice. At four twenty-six I called Dan and Nadia to give them the all clear. At four twenty-seven they arrived, and at four thirty we were all talking to Bushman.

Dan and Nadia started by explaining the status of the Shallow Chasm property. Basically they repeated what Edgar had told us: That we could lock up the property by offering to buy it, even though we didn't have the money, and we could probably buy permission to do grading from whoever had the permit to operate the prior landfill. Bushman thought that was pretty cool. I got the impression that at one time or another he might have worked some land deals himself.

After that we reviewed the preliminary layout for Shallow Chasm, and also the test track layout. There was actually more discussion about the test track because the bulldozers were coming the very next day. It was a clear case of, "Speak now or forever hold your peace."

Reb and Magic arrived right on time at five o'clock. It was good to see them again, but scary too. I made the introductions, of course, and Bushman was all eyes.

Reb, you see, was wearing The Outfit. It started with a dark blue western hat and continued with an onyx, opal, and silver hatband. On the front of the hatband was a bullet with wheels, which also seems to be done in silver and onyx. (Actually, it was titanium and onyx but Reb, Magic and I were the only people on earth who knew that.)

The rest of The Outfit consisted of mirrored sunglasses, a white tie top, red leather hot pants, and black boots. Never once had it failed. In addition, Reb had that swagger: The one that meant she was on top of her game. Slowly and methodically she paced around the shop, including areas marked private or off limits, sometimes frowning but often smiling. That, for me, was the scary part.

Magic, of course, gravitated toward the mechanics' bays and I followed her. Ollie Chan was still working on the Dunemaster.

"That's gonna be one fully-loaded buggy," Magic observed.

"Oh, thanks," Ollie replied with a smile. I don't think he understood that Magic, like me, was worried about weight.

"Ollie Chan, this is Madge Ikemoto," I began. "Magic for short. She's a fellow mechanic."

"Looks like a chick mechanic to me," Ollie observed. Magic threw him a glance that I knew meant sheer hatred.

"Pretty good lookin' chick mechanic, though," Ollie continued, digging himself in worse.

Bushman passed through just then and wasn't impressed by the look on Magic's face. "Is there a problem here?" he asked.

"I think your mechanic Ollie here needs to learn a few things about women," Magic replied. "I think he needs to learn a few things about weight, too. Have you compared the weight of all these accessories to the Dunemaster's recommended trim weight?"

"I'm sure we have," Bushman replied as Ollie shook his head. "And you, young lady," which irritated Magic even more, "you need to learn a few thing about not upsetting operations. You're not insured back here, you know."

"I'm a fully licensed, bonded, certified mechanic," Magic replied tersely. "And I carry my own insurance."

Reb, meanwhile, continued pacing around the shop, the store, and the grounds. Bushman could hardly keep his eyes off her. When she strolled past Ollie's open bay, Bushman went catatonic. Eventually, of course, Reb rounded the corner and Bushman started breathing again.

"Ollie, the reason I came back here was to check on my jeep. Have you figured out why it's running rough and stalls?" Bushman asked.

Ollie had half a dozen scopes hooked up to Bushman's jeep, which was indeed running rough. He ran over to check the latest readings.

"Sorry, Mr. Bushman, but everyone in the shop has looked at it. No one can figure it out. We even called the manufacturer's support line. Nothing. We'll keep trying, though."

Magic walked over to Bushman's jeep and listened to the engine for a second. "I suppose you're getting ready to replace the hydrogen flow relief override capacitor," she stated.

Ollie gave Magic a blank stare. In response, she pulled a capacitor out of her trailer and tossed it to him. "It goes under the fuel mix regulator, on the left, and you don't have to stop the engine to change it," Magic stated evenly.

It took Ollie five seconds to replace the capacitor. Instantly, Bushman's jeep started running smooth as silk.

"That was a pretty good call," Bushman remarked to no one in particular. He was looking at Magic, though.

"I was lookin' at those two bays there at the end," Magic replied. "I figure one for my trailer and equipment, one for me. I'll be settled in by nine o'clock tomorrow morning. Any time I'm not makin' you a ton o' money, you can ask me to leave. Simple as that. Anything else we need to talk about?"

"Uh, no," Bushman replied, his eyes once again on Reb.

"Alrighty, then," proclaimed Magic, and she went outside to back in her trailer. I went outside too, to have a word with Reb.

"Look, Reb, you shouldn't mess with this guy Bushman. He's good people and he's been helping us out. He's on our side," I told her.

Reb instantly spun around with fire in her eyes. "Look, Viv, I need to operate and I can't do that without a base. I need a shop. I'm dead without a shop. I've seen better and I've seen worse but this'll do. I can straighten up what needs it. Do you have another suggestion?"

"Yes. Why not go after Averill Overdale's Dirt & Trail? It seems to be a good shop except for one tiny detail."

"What's that?" Reb demanded.

"It's the local Trans-Cal dealership," I explained.

Reb locked eyes with mine for a second, and then she burst out laughing. "OK, kid, you still got that head, don't you? I'll lay off here for a while and I'll check out Overdale's the next chance I get. Maybe we can rid this town of Trans-Cal. That's a worthy cause. But I need a shop, Viv. The whole team needs me to have it. If I have to come back for this one, I will. Understood?"

"Understood," I replied. That's as good as anyone gets from Reb. From there, you take it one day at a time.

At five-thirty Dan, Nadia, Reb, and I met with Bushman and his lawyer, Heidi Valabulse. Bushman's office was too small for the six of us and Bushman didn't have a conference room. He did have a break room, though, so we commandeered that. It was just a corner of the stock room with stacks of boxes for walls, but at least it had a table and enough chairs. I bought a lemon ricotta cheesecake topped with a confit of lemons and a cappuccino mochachino from the vending machines.

"Hi, everyone, and thanks for coming," I began between gulps. Bushman had arrived and asked me to get started before I was ready.

"First, please let me introduce Rebecca Ribelle, who's here from the coast," I continued. Reb smiled at everyone and everyone smiled back. Beware the smiling stranger, I thought, then I measured who the winners and losers were going to be.

"Reb has been involved for many years in off-road vehicles, both sales and racing, and she has long experience competing with Trans-Cal," I stated. Yeah, like a shark has experience competing with herring.

"With some effort, I've managed to interest Rebecca in the possibility of a minor partnership in the Shallow Chasm project," I declared. OK, I made some phone calls and Reb had no other prospects. It was still an effort.

"How much of a partnership are you seeking?" Heidi Valabulse asked.

"That's yet to be determined," Reb skated. "For starters, I'd have to see a business plan. I do believe the project has potential, though."

"Do you have some credentials?" Valabulse asked.

"Yes, of course," Reb replied smoothly, and then she transmitted her public identity codes. Obviously, she'd managed to get her records scrubbed. I wondered how she'd done it so quickly. Unless she had two identities, one for jailbird Reb and another for model-citizen Reb. Hmm. I wondered what model-citizen Reb had been doing for the past year.

For the rest of an hour everyone pretended to talk terms but actually maneuvered to minimize their investment and risk. I could tell they really didn't believe in the project yet, and at that point I couldn't blame them. It was just a pipe dream. But at least no one walked out and I got a chance to finish my cheesecake and cappuccino.

Heidi Valabulse drank a double bent latte and ate something called a crooked creek cobbler.

At six thirty the meeting ended and most people went home for dinner. Reb and Magic took the jeep and went looking for Erubio's Super Mex.

At my request, Dan and Nadia hung around to review Saturday's event schedule and worker list. It was amazing what a nice job Dan had done of organizing all the material I'd given him, and how much detail remained to be planned.

"Well, if something else comes up and you don't know who can cover it, let me know," I offered.

"We will," Dan and Nadia said together.

"Are you sure about this traffic control job?" Dan asked. "I don't see how ..."

"Olivia's very good at that. She'll handle all the details," I interrupted. The so-called walls of that break-room weren't exactly soundproof. "I'm waiting for confirmation but yes, I'm fairly sure it'll be OK."

"What about this featured band that Crystal knows nothing about, even through she's arranging the bands?" Nadia asked.

"Same deal, waiting for confirmation but fairly sure," I replied. "What about the titanium welding? Have you found anything?"

"Ben and I have spent a long time looking," Dan replied. "We eventually found a distributor who sells the equipment, and they're quite sure that only one shop in the whole state has it installed. It's the airline maintenance shop at Mammoth Field."

"Have you called them?" I asked.

"Well, we've tried, but they really have those lines locked up," Dan explained. "I tried talking my way through the airline office, Nadia also tried going through the office, and Ben has a couple of his computers trying to crack their com switch. So far, though, nothing. I guess security on aircraft facilities is pretty tight."

"Well, it sounds like you've both done a lot of work on this and I appreciate it," I encouraged. "Keep trying and let me know if you get stuck on anything."

"We will," Nadia assured me; then the two of them took a piss in the back lot and headed out.

I hung around the shop for another forty-five minutes or so, going over the test track design with Bushman and nibbling on stuff from the vending machines. Then Reb and Magic pulled up and the three of us headed for the Banana Tryst.

From there we pulled The Bullet and its trailer to the garage I'd rented at Folsom Lockup. I almost hated to look at it, but I had to. Magic pulled off the tarp and there it was: So many memories, so much hope, so badly crippled. I touched the hood, the roof, the entry hatch. The seat was dusty. The controllers were stowed neatly, as I'd always done. There was no hydrogen, no charge. The damage to the frame was worse than I remembered. I suppose I'd tried to forget. Futilely I plugged in the auxiliary power cord and started a trickle charge.

"Cover it up and let's go," I finally decided, then Magic covered The Bullet and I locked the garage. Double encrypted.

"Where are you living these days?" Reb asked on our way out.

"When I got here I found a woman named Marjorie Major," I explained. "I tell people she's my aunt. Anyway, we share an apartment. She signs the lease and I pay the rent."

"You gonna change that?" asked Magic.

"I suppose I could, but she's been good to me in some ways. Anyway, she's been in the hospital this week and I've been moving around. The place is in kind of a mess, you know?"

"Don't tell me you leave clothes all over the floor," prodded Reb.

"No, that's one bad habit I've managed to beat," I boasted. "Anyway, Marjorie's supposed to get out of the hospital tomorrow. I need to get over there and clean the place up a little. After that, can I stay with you guys?"

"The room only has one bed, and it won't hold all three of us," Reb explained.

"That's OK, I'll sleep on the floor. It won't be my first time or my last."

"If that's better than this Marjorie's apartment, you're welcome to it," Reb acceded.

A few minutes later Magic dropped me off at the shop, then she and Reb headed for the Banana Tryst. Before I left, though, I called Nadia and caught her wiping cum off her chin.

"What's up?" she began.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," I jabbed.

"Not yet, but be quick," she replied.

"Do you still have Marjorie's laundry at your house? Remember, I washed it there Tuesday night."

"Yeah, and you forgot to dry it," Nadia jabbed. "I dried it for you, though. Why? You wanna pick it up?"

"Yeah, in ten of fifteen minutes. Is that OK?"

"Should be. We're on the back porch. So is Marjorie's laundry. Try not to break the mood, OK?"

"OK."

I'm not sure if I broke Dan and Nadia's mood or not, but I did tiptoe past them and retrieved Marjorie's things.

The apartment, fortunately, had aired out pretty well. I made Marjorie's bed, put the rest of her things away in the dresser or closet, and then threw out anything in the refrigerator or kitchen cabinets that was spoiled or close to it. After that I carried out the garbage, started the vacuum cleaner, and sat thinking as it scurried around the floor.

Something wasn't quite right and I couldn't put my finger on it. Maybe there was too much going on. Maybe there were too many details to think about all at once. Maybe it was looking at all of Marjorie's things after not seeing her for four days. Maybe it was being out of the apartment for four days and suddenly realizing how shabby it was. Maybe it was Dee Muntz, if indeed something was going on with her. Maybe it was Adam, who I really hadn't been close with all day. Maybe I was just tired.

In any event, once the vacuum finished I took a few extra precautions, then locked up, then drove over to the Banana Tryst and crashed. I hadn't counted on a tile floor but at least I felt safe with Reb.