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<1st attachment, "Hanna Chapter 1.txt" begin>
Hanna
Love Discovered
A Tale of Romance by The Star(1)
Author's Preface
This story was intended as the first two chapters of a novelette. However,
much of the subsequent story has been overtaken by events, and is no longer
of interest. I'm trying to re-write it, but without much success so far.
Maybe some day...
Hanna's story is fun, though, and I thought it might be interesting to share
in this festival of romantic tales.
Codes for this story are: M/F, rom, teen, first, viol.
The Star
- - + + + + + - -
Sparks were flying from the ends of her brick-red braids, as well as
her sea-green eyes.
Damn, she was magnificent!
I was sure glad her rage was not aimed at me!
- - + + + + + - -
Hanna and I go back a long way. Her parents built a home on the vacant
lot next to our house when I was five. My brothers and I were quite
interested, when they moved in, to learn that there were two girls about our
age next door.
Although we were very conscious of boy things and played the normal
rough and tumble games, we never had the aversion to girls most of our
friends seemed to share. Maybe it was because we had no sisters... and thought
girls were just boys who dressed funny.
Hanna is the same age as my next brother, Derrick; her sister, Anne,
is a year younger. Somehow, Hanna and I became close--soon, inseparable. She
played the rough and tumble games with us... With the size advantage girls
often enjoy over their male counterparts, she could, and did, thump the snot
out of any of us whenever she wanted to. She could run faster, too.
Hanna got me interested in more `feminine' things--like books and
music--without making me feel any less masculine. Her technique was to make
them fascinating... And with her, they were.
Of course, she confirmed the stereotype of redheads and their tempers.
Boy! When she blows up? Nuke time!
Although I'm the oldest son, I've always been pretty laid back, in a
`busy' way. A curious and aggressive boy, I was still content to take things
as they come and satisfy my curiosity by watching and asking questions. My
folks always said I was a `good boy'.
When I was eleven, I went through a couple of those amazing growth
spurts adolescents sometimes experience. By the time I became a teenager, I
was six feet tall and still growing. My mom said she spent all her time
buying me new jeans to replace the new ones I'd outgrown.
Hanna was changing, too.
She grew tall. Then her shape changed from `up and down' to `in and
out'. Boy, did it! She rapidly turned into a walking wet dream--which
confused me a lot. My best friend had become the subject of my erotic
fantasies...
A boy that age has lots of erotic fantasies.
Of course, Hanna mirrored my confusion. She was unable to figure out
why her best friend suddenly acted strange around her. And hurt when I
wouldn't talk to her about it. It never occurred to me that she was thinking
the same thoughts about me that I was about her.
I can't believe the time and opportunities we wasted!
Our friendship limped along for a couple of years. We were still best
friends, but with an uncomfortable space between us. Somehow, neither of us
knew how to bridge that space.
Entering high school, I was astonished at the number of kids in the
school--and how many of them were really good-looking girls! By that time, I
was three inches over six feet and still growing. I hadn't filled out yet
and was more lanky than `big'.
Still, I noticed that the girls looked me over with approval and, as
is expected, I soon started dating.
Hanna was a great help, telling me all about the girls she knew--which
ones `put out', and which ones were `teasers'. More important; which ones
were bitches and which ones were nice.
It wasn't a big deal, really. All I wanted from a date was a good time
and maybe a little kissing and petting. I dreamed of getting laid, but
wasn't obsessed with it.
Of course, I gladly helped Hanna the same way, with all the
information I had about any guy she asked about--including my impression of
his reputation.
Why we never dated each other, I'll never know. (Derrick and Anne got
together briefly in high school, but mostly were just good friends.)
- - + + + + + - -
By the time I was a junior, I was carrying a pretty heavy scholastic
load, with calculus, chemistry, German, and the fuzzy studies stuff we were
required to take. I was also a starter on the football team as a tight
end--and defensive end when I had to play both ways. I'd grown into my
height, now six feet four, and weighed about two hundred pounds. I was still
lean, but not the beanpole I'd been a couple of years before.
I played football from love of the game. I enjoyed hitting people. And
I found that I was very good at catching footballs. Since I was big enough
to take the punishment of catching passes over the middle and then run over
most high school defensive backs, I made `all-conference' that year, with
college scouts looking me over.
I also found myself being `stalked' by a number of the girls in the
school.
My reputation was straight arrow. I was still a virgin, though by then
I'd had plenty of opportunities to take care of that. And I wanted to. But I
was such an idealist, I didn't want it to be a `cheap' thing... Na ve? ...
Yeah. I was.
So I was dating, but not enjoying it very much. Between sports and
studies, there just wasn't much time.
Hanna, meanwhile, was always there; always ready with a good word, or
advice about a girl who got me to ask her out.
Then Hanna dated Dick.
Dick Pritchard was a basketball player, who felt that football was
`too brutal'.
In reality, he didn't care at all about brutality. He just didn't want
to take any chance that he might get hurt.
Beyond question, he was the most egotistical, self-centered bastard in
the school.
I tried to tell Hanna that she was just `arm candy' to Dick Pritchard.
But Hanna, for the first time, turned the full blast of her temper on me--to
my complete surprise: I was only doing what we'd always done for each other
by telling her about him...
She told me it was none of my damn business who she dated!
Then she proceeded to vent generally, picking apart everything about
me: what I did and who I dated--even the clothes I wore. When she finished,
I felt pretty much like I'd been run over by a truck. A large part of my
distress was that my best friend thought so much was wrong with me.
- - + + + + + - -
Preparing for her third date with Dick, Hanna was a little
apprehensive. She really enjoyed the attention she was getting as the girl
who was `going with' Dick Pritchard. What concerned her was that he'd been
pretty aggressive with his hands on their last date, and hadn't been pleased
at all when she insisted that he leave her clothing alone. He'd driven her
home in a snit and stormed back to his car without a kiss at the door.
Still, she thought with a smile, he'd asked her out again. She had him
under control.
Arriving to pick her up, Dick looked her over in wonder. `Does she
know how hot she looks?' he asked himself. `Damn! If I don't get some of
that tonight, I'll ... well ... I WILL get some of that tonight!'
"Hi, baby. You look fantastic."
"Thanks, Dick... Where are we going?"
"I thought we'd grab a pizza downtown, then see what we could find."
Hanna smiled and nodded as he helped her into the car. `Nice manners,'
she thought.
The pizza parlor was noisy with friends and acquaintances. Once they'd
finished and were back in the car, Dick started to drive.
"Where are we going?" Hanna asked.
"I thought maybe you'd enjoy the view at the lake."
A notorious `make out' spot, Hanna had no desire to go there. "How
about a movie? Or maybe the arcade?" she offered.
By that time, they had left town and were in the country. Dick
suddenly turned into a graveled, one-lane road and pulled to a stop under a
huge oak.
Pulling Hanna to him, he kissed her deeply.
But when his hand found her breast, she pushed him away. "What the
hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded.
"Just giving you what you've been asking for," he replied, pulling her
back.
She braced her arms against him. "Hold everything, buster! I haven't
been asking for anything. You'll get what I want to give you--and no more.
Are we clear on that?"
His reply was a hard slap, hand open but a solid blow, to the side of
her face. "Bitch! You been teasing me for weeks. Teasing is over now! It's
time to put out what you've been promising."
Dick's problem was that he hadn't appreciated either her strength or
her temper. He was not dealing with some five-foot-two, petite girl. Hanna
was an even six feet and, though slender, was solid and strong.
Hanna went ballistic. She started by slapping him back, then
straightened up and reached for the door handle of the car.
Dick grabbed her arm and pulled her back toward him. With his other
hand, he grabbed the neck of her sweater and pulled down, popping off two of
the buttons and tearing the others out of the buttonholes. As Hanna pulled
the door handle, opening the passenger door, Dick grasped her bra between
her breasts, holding her in the car. When he hit her again, Hanna went into
a berserk rage.
No longer trying to get away, she attacked in blind fury--with fists,
elbows, knees, and all the strength she could muster. A fist caught an ear,
tearing it, while an elbow took Dick in the side of the face, breaking
several teeth and cracking his jaw. One of Hanna's knees just missed his
balls, giving him a painful bruise on the inner thigh.
In a matter of seconds, Hanna's attacker became a passive defender.
Seeing that she had stunned him, Hanna opened the driver's door and
shoved Dick out of the car. Slamming and locking the doors, she backed from
the lane at high speed--narrowly missing a car on the highway, when she
backed into it. She drove into town, where she parked on the lawn in front
of the high school... and let the air out of the tires.
Her adrenaline high vanished, leaving her weak and exhausted. So she
called me to come collect her.
"Gary?" her voice came over the phone.
"Yeah."
"Can you come get me?"
"I suppose. Where are you?" I was ready for bed and not in the best of
moods because I hadn't arranged a date for the weekend.
"At the McDonald's across from school."
"OK. Fifteen minutes?"
"Thanks, Gary."
Driving up, I saw Dick's car with flat tires, hood up and doors open,
on the school lawn. With a sly, private smile, I knew there would be trouble
over that--and that the car would be trashed in a couple of hours, if the
cops didn't get there first.
Hanna was waiting for me. She looked like she'd lost a ten-round
fight.
"What happened to you?"
"Dick."
"Dick?"
"Yeah. He thought he could take more than I wanted to give him. He
made a mistake."
"Dick did that to you?" I asked, getting mad. Nobody would get away
with pounding on a pal of mine.
Hanna grinned. It was lopsided. The side of her face was starting to
show the painful bruise it carried. "He probably looks a lot worse."
"Good for you! ... Where is he, now that I think of it?"
"I left him on that gravel trail leading back to Hampton's pasture."
"Well, you can tell me about it on the way home. That face needs
attention."
As we started to leave the restaurant, I saw Dick get out of a car
across the street. He'd thumbed a ride into town.
Some of our friends from school were enjoying an after-movie hamburger
and had seen Hanna's face... Sensing entertainment, they followed us out of
the place.
Dick howled in rage when he saw his car. He howled again when he
spotted Hanna, and started for her. When I would have intercepted him, Hanna
held me back. "No Gary. He's mine. All I want from you tonight is a ride
home. OK?"
"OK," I agreed, reluctantly.
Dick screamed obscenities at her as he crossed the street, saying she
was a lousy teaser, a worse lay, and a complete scumbag for what she'd done
to his car.
Hanna replied so everyone could hear that he couldn't even get it up
and had tried to beat her so she wouldn't tell everyone. Enraged, she dared
him to try to hit her with everyone watching, to see just how macho he was.
"Big shot, my ass!" she spat in his face.
When he tried to slap her again, she blocked his swing with an arm,
kneed his balls, and slapped her cupped hands over his ears as hard as she
could, rupturing one eardrum and damaging the other. Dick went down like
he'd been shot and Hanna turned away.
"Take me home?" she asked me.
"With pleasure!" I grinned at her.
Two extreme adrenaline highs in a short time were too much for her.
Hanna fell asleep in my car.
In minutes, we were home. Her house was dark. I shook her awake.
"Hanna! Wake up! Where are your folks?"
"Huh? Wuzzat? Gary? Wha...?"
"Where are your parents? Hanna? Wake up, dammit!"
"Oh. 'S OK, Gary. Ev'body... visit Aunt Alice... Back tomor..." She
faded out again.
I pulled her out of the car and walked her semi-conscious form into my
house. My family was gone too. It was deer season and my parents were both
really into archery--they didn't care if they got a deer; they enjoyed the
autumn woods and a chance to shoot their bows. My brothers were staying with
friends.
Leading Hanna to the guestroom, I got her to sit on the bed, while I
went to the bath and got a wet rag to wash her face. The bruise was already
turning purple. She managed to kick off her shoes and lie on the bed. I
gently washed her face and hands with the cloth. She muttered that she was
OK, when I asked if she had any place else that hurt. I went for an ice pack
for her face, and somehow got her to hold it in place.
"Hanna?"
"..."
"Hanna? Dammit, Hanna, wake up!"
"Wassamatta, Gary?"
"Hanna, we got to talk a minute. You can stay here tonight, but you
got to get your clothes off, so you can sleep."
"'S OK, Gary... You help..."
It went like that. She was too out of it to undress herself. And her
torn sweater and twisted bra were turning me on. In the end, I pulled her
sweater off and, with trembling fingers, undid the bra. Her breasts were
more gorgeous than my imagination--buttressed with Playboy centerfolds---had
pictured them. With great willpower, I pulled one of my t-shirts over her,
and attacked the lower part.
The skirt was easy---one button and a zipper and pull it off.
The pantyhose were a mess when I got them off.
In the end, I left her panties on and covered her.
I gave her a `brotherly' kiss on the forehead, turned out the lights
and went to my own bed---where images of her breasts made certain that I
tossed and turned a long time before getting to sleep myself.
Before I was really awake, I felt another body slide into my bed--and
into my arms. It had to be Hanna, since I had vivid dreams about her when I
finally got to sleep. My hands and arms closed around her--and discovered
she'd shed the t-shirt. Her skin felt like satin--smoother than I could have
imagined. And so hot I thought she must be glowing.
Since I sleep only in shorts, those marvelous breasts were mashed
against my bare chest. When my sleepy brain registered that, the signals it
sent were:
INSTANT ERECTION!
INSTANT ERECTION!
INSTANT ERECTION!
I tried to back away and found that strong arms were holding me tight,
as a pair of hot lips attacked mine. While I kissed her back, my hands
holding her close, she let her hands drift to my shorts--which were jerked
out of the way.
Next thing I knew, the equipment was being handled and checked out.
And none too gently, either. (Hanna had never done that before and didn't
know how to touch a guy to give him pleasure.)
Thinking, `If she's gonna check me out, I'm damn sure going to get a
look myself!' I ran a hand between her legs, which opened right up for me. I
confess, I was no more gentle with her than she was with me... We were truly
`The Original Amateur Hour.'
In seconds--I had just located the source of all the moisture--she was
rolling onto her back and pulling me by the dong into position above, then
in her. I tried to take it slowly and gently, but her strong hands on my
butt literally jerked me in. As I entered, she gasped and bit her lip. Hard.
Then she seemed to open around me like a flower, only to enclose me again,
sweetly, with arms and legs encircling me.
A horny teenaged virgin, I'd have expected to come on first contact.
But it was all so new, and the way it went down so different from what I
expected, I was able to set myself outside what my body was experiencing and
just enjoy it.
Soon, Hanna's lower torso started undulating and she began to clasp me
rhythmically. As I slid in and out of her close, hot wetness, her excitement
built until she was gyrating so frantically under me it was all I could do
to stay between her legs and plugged in. When she screamed in fulfillment,
it seemed a trance was broken and my own release responded to hers.
I was glad she wears her nails short. She scraped hell out of my back
as it was.
When I rolled off her, I held her close and kissed her tenderly.
"Gary, do you have any idea how long I've wanted you to do that?" she
asked, with a contented sigh.
"Which, kiss you, or fuck you?"
What a dipshit!
She slugged me in the arm--gently. "Both, asshole!"
(We were truly best friends and could talk that way with each other,
though we normally use better language.)
I kissed her again. "How come you never told me?"
Hanna just slugged me again. Then, relenting, she said, "When you
started noticing there was a difference between girls and boys, you put a
big wall between us. I did everything I could to get it out of the way, but
couldn't get through to you. I talked about sexy things and what the girls
said in the locker room... You just listened and thanked me for the
information...
"I figured Dick would make you jealous. You warned me--but didn't do
anything about it."
"Well, I guess I didn't want to lose my best pal. Sure you turn me on.
But I love you too much to risk losing what I had with you by asking for
more..."
"You LOVE me, Gary?"
Oops!
Surprised by my own choice of words, I admitted, "Yeah. I did, Hanna.
I DO." Shocked, I thought about what I'd just said. "I love you, Hanna," I
whispered.
She kissed me again.
"That was my first time. I'm so glad that conceited dickhead, Dick,
didn't manage to rape me. I always wanted you to be my first..." She smiled.
"And you didn't disappoint me." Another kiss. "You made it as wonderful and
loving as I imagined it would be."
Her sensuous smile changed to a hungry grin. "Do you suppose we could
do it again?"
Old Oscar sat up and took notice.
Before it was completely submerged by my newly stirred-up hormones, my
brain made me ask, "But Hanna, I came in you. Won't you get pregnant?"
She'd found Oscar and was in the process of sitting on him.
"Maybe. It's really the wrong time of the month, but I suppose I
could. So what?" I felt her wet velvet tunnel engulf me. "I always wanted to
have your babies, ever since I learned where babies came from. Would you
like to give me a baby, Gary? Would you please knock me up?"
What American boy could resist that? My answer was to hump back at her
as hard as I could and, all too soon, pump her welcoming womb full of my
seed.
Hanna was right there with me, her lewd suggestions turning her on as
much as they had me. With a scream, she convulsed and then collapsed on my
chest, those marvelous breasts cushioning her. Her mouth found mine in a
long, searching kiss that turned tender and very loving.
"Hanna," I said, when she turned loose of me. "Before this goes any
farther, and just to set the record straight--this is my first, too. I've
loved you for years. Although I was tempted pretty strongly a few times,
I've been saving it for you. So you've made a big dream of mine come true,
too."
As she rolled to the side, I kissed her again. Then we grinned at each
other like the pair of idiots we were.
"Why didn't we do this sooner?" we asked simultaneously, bursting into
laughter.
After a little more kissing and petting, I backed off, to look at her
closely. When I started, Hanna clung to me, and said, "Oh, don't look at me
now. I'm a mess. Let me get my face on."
I pushed her firmly to arm's length. "You have a pretty nasty bruise,
which I think I'll have to talk to Dick about. Other than that, you're
purely lovely." My fingertips lightly learned the contours of her familiar
and loved face. Then traced her ears and neck. Following my gaze, they
followed the hollows of her collarbone and down to the extraordinary firm
breasts that rose from her ribcage. I wasn't tickling, just stroking
lightly. Even so, her breath caught a couple of times, when I explored the
texture of her nipples and areolas.
Her tummy was a slightly rounded, firm structure that led to the flare
of her hips and the trimmed, red-covered patch between her shapely but solid
thighs... I'd always admired her legs. When we went swimming or for a run,
even as kids, she always had well-proportioned, superbly tapered legs.
Meanwhile she'd been doing the same; passing her hands over my chest,
playing with the few hairs by my nipples, sliding across the rippled
hardness of my stomach, coming to rest with a finger gently twirling the
pubic hair.
We'd given each other our bodies. I guess we were each taking
inventory of our new possessions.
After a bit, with a deep sigh of content, Hanna said, "Yum. I like
this. ... Uh, Gary...?"
"Yeah?"
"I wasn't presuming too much, was I? When I asked if you want me to
have your babies?"
"You mean, you mean it? That wasn't just passion?"
"Oh yes. I meant it. I mean... It WAS passion! But I mean it. I meant
it. Am I rushing you too much?"
"Well..." I considered, causing her to draw back a little in alarm. "I
think we'd better at least finish high school first, don't you?"
"You bastard!" she giggled, socking me lightly in the arm. "I'm on the
pill. My mom put me on it two years ago. And she and daddy made me promise
I'd finish college. ... I wouldn't mind having a couple of kids in the house
by the time I do, though."
I hugged her back against me, her ample body fitting perfectly. "I
wouldn't mind, either, except I don't think we'll be able to afford it...
You know," the thought hit me, "we just agreed that we're going to get
married."
"No such thing!" she responded, trying but failing to keep an impish
grin off her face. "We've only agreed to have children together."
"OK, OK, wiseass! Do you want to get married?"
"Sure I do. Some day, I hope some good man asks me..."
This time, I punched her... lightly, on the arm.
"Do you want to marry ME, you dope?"
Surprising me--our mood had been teasing banter--she cried and hugged
me tight, then kissed me with all she had. I thought she'd break one of my
teeth.
"What's the matter? Isn't that what you wanted?"
"Of course it is, silly," she sniffed. "I've wanted you so much, so
long... I can't help bawling, I'm so happy."
Baffled, I gave it up and just held her.
Pretty soon old Oscar, realizing I was holding a stacked, naked,
willing chick against my skin, decided to have a say in things.
"Again?" Hanna giggled. "Well, I wouldn't want you saying I don't take
proper care of my fianc ."
In moments, our laughter had changed to gasps and moans, and then to
Hanna's screams of victory as, the third time that morning, we rode to
glory. Through it all, though, she didn't lose her big grin.
That was to be a hallmark of our life together. Living with Hanna,
working with Hanna... sex with Hanna... was always FUN, not some somber,
serious, mysterious thing. Rather, an affirmation of life--and its inherent
absurdity.
Mid-morning, we showered (Of COURSE together!), dressed, and were
enjoying breakfast when the doorbell rang. On the porch were two largish,
middle-aged men. I recognized one as a policeman.
"Gary Rogers?" he asked me.
"Yeah?"
"Do you know where we could find Hanna O'Malley?"
"Why do you want her?"
"We were told she was assaulted last night. We'd like to check it
out."
"In that case, gentlemen, won't you please come in?" I held the door
open for them, then led the way to the kitchen.
"Miss O'Malley?" one cop said.
"Yes?"
"I'm Detective Hallaran. This is Sergeant Jones. The night manager of
the McDonald's said you were assaulted outside his restaurant last
night--and possibly before you came into his restaurant, too. Would you mind
talking to us about it?"
"No. I wouldn't mind. I'm not sure it needs the police, though..." She
proceeded to describe Dick's attempted rape and what she'd done about it.
And that she'd pretty much flattened him when he tried to attack her in
town. "If he'll leave me alone, I don't see any need to press charges
against him."
With a tight smile, Hallaran said, "I think you've probably chastised
him pretty well. Date rape is serious--it is rape, after all--and we hate to
see it go unpunished. I guess we'll have a little talk with Pritchard and
let him know he dodged a bullet *this* time. If he tries this again, I'd
like your testimony, to show a pattern."
"If he tries again, I'll be happy to do whatever is needed. I'm a
little stronger than the average girl and could protect myself--and he
really made me mad."
"Yeah. Well, we won't bother you any more then. Please call one of us
if he gives you any trouble."
"I don't think he'll give me anything I can't handle."
"You're probably right. Even so, we'd like to know about it. OK?"
"Sure. Thanks for your consideration."
The cops left.
"Gary? Do you think he'll do anything?"
"Dick?"
"Yeah."
"Only if he's an even bigger fool than I think he is. Good grief, you
clobbered him, and humiliated him in the middle of town, in front of
witnesses. I don't think he'll come looking for more."
Hanna looked pensive. "I hope you're right."
Saturday afternoon, I had a fantastic game, with seven catches and two
touchdowns. My attitude that nothing could stop me infected the whole team.
We creamed 'em!
Monday was a very good day for Hanna. She was a heroine among the
girls for decking Dick. Plenty of them had wished they could do that. And
somehow, by second period, the whole school knew that she was my girl. She
was proud that she'd corralled `Gary, the loner'--the guy who wasn't
interested enough to take a girl out more than once.
That was a new experience for me. I'd never had a special girl before.
Our friends knew how close we'd been for years and thought it was damn
well about time.
Dick wasn't in school. Seems he'd spent the weekend in the hospital,
where x-rays confirmed the fracture in his jaw. He'd suffered some damage in
the crotch, too. The bruising and swelling had to go down before the doctors
could tell just how much damage there was.
- - + + + + + - -
Tuesday, when he came to school, the word quickly spread that he was
telling everybody that Hanna had just been lucky, and that he'd handle "that
prick-teasing bitch" as soon as he was able.
Hanna heard about it at lunch, just as Dick entered the cafeteria with
a couple of his low-life friends.
I have never seen her so angry. Or so beautiful. As I said, I'm sure
glad it wasn't aimed at me!
Hands on her hips, she confronted him. "Assault and rape aren't enough
for you, Dick? You're so low you slander, too? If you weren't such a selfish
bastard, you might find a girl somewhere who would let you put that tiny
little thing in her. As it is, you have to beat women up and rape them,
since no girl in her right mind would let you get to first base otherwise... A
girl can't be a prick teaser with you, Dick, 'cause you ain't got enough of
a prick to tease.
"And I hear you want to handle me... Well, any time, doll baby.
Any...old...time."
By now there were snickers or giggles from all the students in
earshot--most of the school. Hanna wasn't quiet when she vented.
Humiliated, Dick turned and slunk out, as the snickers turned to
guffaws.
He didn't return to school that week.
By the weekend, Hanna and I were so much in love we could hardly stand
it. We went hand-in-hand everywhere and laughed a lot. Dad later told me I
walked around with a big goofy grin on my face. He asked me to have a chat
Sunday afternoon, after church.
"So, Gary. You and Hanna are an item now?"
"You bet, Dad! I can't believe how blind I was. Or how happy I am
now."
"I'm glad, son. Your mom and I love you a lot. We love Hanna too and
think she's a very good choice... Son... We have NO problems with Hanna...
We would have problems with a _pregnant_ Hanna. And we'd have a problem if
you decided to get a job and get married without going to college first."
I grinned. "We're way ahead of you, Dad. Hanna's mom put her on the
pill a couple of years ago. And we agree that we both want college. We want
college together. THEN we'll see how many grandchildren we can produce for
you."
"OK, son. We'll support that. I hope we'll see a lot of you and Hanna.
You don't have to go out all the time, to be together. You need to eat and
study, and you need to do that here. Hanna is welcome to join us."
"Dad? ... I don't know how... Uh, Dad... uh... Can she stay all night
sometimes?" I finally got it out with a rush.
Surprising me, he answered without hesitation, "I suppose. As long as
you're discreet about it... no one can know except Hanna's parents, and they
have to approve. And you have to be meticulous about birth control. I may be
an old fart, but your mom's still too young to be a grandmother just yet.
... I'll talk to your brothers. They'll keep their mouths shut!"
It had been a long time, but I gave my dad a big hug. "Thanks Dad."
I went next door to Hanna's to tell her what had happened. She
grinned, grabbed my hand and dragged me into the family room, where her dad
was watching football and her mom reading a magazine. Grabbing the remote,
she muted the game, telling her folks we needed to talk.
"Can't it wait until after..."
"Daddy! I'm more important than a football game. Besides the Giants
have this one in the bag."
He laughed and said, "Got me. What do you need, Red?"
"Momma, Daddy... Gary and I are going to get married."
"Congratulations, dear. But don't you think you need to wait until
you're legal age, at least?"
"Cut it out, Momma. We'll get married when Gary graduates. What we
want you to know is that we've decided on this."
"OK. Congratulations Red. Tough luck, Gary... NOW can I watch the
game?"
"DAAADDDY!"
"OK, honey. I really am happy for you. You and Gary have been a
perfect match for a long time. I'm glad you two finally figured it out, but
it's not like I haven't assumed you were a pair for a while, now."
"Me, too, honey," her mom chimed in. "Congratulations, both of you."
"Uh, Daddy? Mom? There's one other thing..."
"Well?"
"Can Gary sleep over?"
"Huh? He lives next door. The guestroom isn't that comfortable
anyway... OH! You mean, in YOUR room?"
"Yes Daddy."
"I don't suppose it would do much good to ask you to wait until you're
married?"
"No Daddy. It wouldn't."
"Are you on birth control?"
"Yes Daddy."
"Are both of you willing to promise to be exclusive to each other? I
really don't want either of you infecting the other with some nasty
surprise."
"Yes Daddy. We are."
"Yes, sir," I said.
"OK. With those rules understood, I guess I'd rather have you here
than out on some country road."
"Thank you, Daddy," she said, giving him a kiss, which she followed
with a big, teary hug with her mother. "Gary's dad said about the same
thing. So we'll be in one house or the other."
"Could you let us know where you're going to be?" Hanna's mom asked.
"So we can plan dinner, and so on."
"Of course, Mom. And if you especially want me, or both of us, for
something, we'll do all we can to make that work, too."
"NOW can I get back to the game?"
"DAAADDYYYY!"
- - + + + + + - -
So that Monday, we were feeling pretty good about life and our
situation.
Until we got to school.
Using the front entrance, a student or visitor walks past the
cafeteria to enter the school. A number of students were in the habit of
gathering there, to chat or go over their notes and materials for the day
before class started.
Dick arrived at the cafeteria door with a semi-automatic .22 rifle,
and a HiStandard .22 pistol. A Reuger .32 automatic was stuck in his belt in
back. He walked through the door, looked around for a moment as if he was
looking for someone, then brought up the rifle and started shooting.
In seconds, he had fired all fifteen rounds from the magazine and hit
five students. Mary Satterly was dead, four others wounded.
Then he started with the pistol.
Hanna and I were just approaching the building when we heard the
short, sharp bark of the rifle.
"What's that?" she asked.
"Sounds like firecrackers. If somebody did that in the cafeteria, Mr.
Fogerty will have a cow!" I was pissed, because I didn't need some idiot
messing up the loose discipline of the school campus.
Going to the cafeteria door, I started to open it, just as Dick
started to empty his pistol in the students gathered there.
Hanna put out her hand and held the door shut. "That's gunfire, Gary."
That slowed me down a lot.
We carefully opened the door a crack and saw Dick's back, just a few
yards from the door, as he fired off the clip from the pistol. There was
another pistol in his belt and a small rifle on the floor.
I started to open the door further and Hanna jerked it fully open,
while I launched myself into a tackle from behind. Pretty good form, if I
say so myself. I caught him just above the knees, driving forward and upward
with my 230 pounds uncoiling.
Dick flew over my back and landed on his head on the floor.
Stunned, he'd managed to hang onto the pistol and jerked off three
more wild shots before I stomped his wrist hard and the pistol fell away.
With a tiny bit of shame--the adrenaline was pretty high--I'll admit
to punching him a few times while he was down and mostly out of it.
I didn't know one of his shots hit Hanna or I'd have killed the son of
a bitch!
By the time three other guys pulled me off him, Dick was barely
semi-conscious.
And even though I had guys draped all over me, I managed to scream,
"He's got another gun! In his belt in back!"
Somebody rolled Dick over and retrieved the other pistol and the guys
let go of me, to pick up his other weapons from the floor.
It took me a minute to look around. Where was Hanna?
Then I saw the slumped figure in the doorway.
My heart stopped.
A blade of ice carved through my chest.
I rushed to her and carefully laid her straight, holding her head and
torso in my lap. I quickly found that she was alive, since she groaned when
I moved her. But a bit a blood ran from the corner of her mouth. Looking her
over, I finally found a tiny entrance wound, below her left breast. There
was no wound in back. The bullet was still in her.
All the while, I'd been barely conscious of the wail of sirens, until
they cut off in front of the school, yards from where I sat on the pavement
cradling my girl.
First was a pair of cops, who leaped over me and into the cafeteria.
I was watching for the paramedics. I grabbed the first one. "Help me!"
I demanded. "She's been shot in the chest!"
He stopped, waving his partner on into the building. "How do you
know?" I showed him the entrance wound and the blood on her cheek. "OK.
Let's lay her out flat and I'll have a look." With swift competence, he
proceeded to check heart and blood pressure, and agreed that Hanna had a
bullet in her left lung. He put her on oxygen and initiated an IV. Then he
and I carefully placed her on the stretcher someone set beside us.
By now, there were three ambulances and more cops on the scene than I
thought our town had. A pair of ambulance technicians raised the wheeled
stretcher and started to cart Hanna off. I wouldn't leave her and started to
climb into the ambulance with her.
"Not so fast, pal. I need to be in there!" a paramedic said, pulling
me back from the vehicle.
"But, she's my girl!"
"Fine. So let me do my job. We'll all do our best to make sure she
lives to come back to you. OK?"
"Can't I ride along?"
"Oh, what the hell. Get up front. You can ride there." He said this as
another wounded student slid into the other stretcher slot and the driver
started to close the back doors.
I ran around the side and jumped into the passenger seat just as the
driver activated his lights and siren, kicking the vehicle in gear and
goosing the throttle.
For as fast as we were going, the ride was surprisingly smooth. We
arrived at the emergency entrance of the hospital faster than I thought
possible.
Once there, I was engulfed in a scene of organized confusion. The
other student, Mark Valchuk, had been shot in the arm and had lost a lot of
blood, as well as serious muscle damage. A team took him off to a cubicle.
Hanna was also taken to a cubicle where her clothing was removed and
she was prepped for surgery. A middle-aged woman, the Charge Nurse, barked,
"Hurry up! They're waiting for her in Surgery Two!" In minutes, Hanna was
draped with hospital sheets and wheeled away.
I tried to follow, but was firmly pointed to a small waiting room in
the surgery section. After I'd bounced off the walls a bit and settled into
a chair with a magazine I couldn't see well enough to read, an old lady came
to sit beside me. She had on the forest green jacket of a hospital
volunteer.
"Are you Gary Rogers?"
"Yeah. So?"
"I'm Connie Shepherd. I'm a volunteer here. They've asked me to see if
you would help us...?"
"Just tell me how. If it helps Hanna, I'll do it!"
"Well, we need her parents. We can do a lot for her, but we need their
consent for some of the procedures the doctors think may be necessary. Can
you locate them?"
"I think so. Where's the phone?"
It took a few calls, but in twenty minutes Hanna's mother joined me,
her father arriving about five minutes later.
"They won't tell me anything, except that she's in surgery..." I
whined.
"Well, I'll see what I can find out," Hanna's dad said. "What
happened?"
I described the awful events of the morning to the O'Malleys. By then
I was feeling really bad about it all. I'd managed to put the scumbag down,
but I hadn't been able to protect the one person I loved.
Mr. O'Malley caught that. A former SEAL, he was familiar with violence
and its nuances. "Gary! Listen to me! There is nothing you could have done
different. You saw what had to be done and you did it. Hanna took her own
chances when she stood in the doorway. ... Gary: IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT!
Get that through your head. OK?"
That was nice of him to say. But I wasn't buying it. I should have
protected Hanna.
After a few minutes when I didn't answer, he got up and went in search
of some straight answers about Hanna's condition.
When he returned, the news was about as good as we could have
expected, everything considered. Hanna had taken a .22 bullet in the left
lung. It hit a rib on the way in, causing some tumbling, but slowing it
considerably. It hadn't hit any major structures other than the lung. The
lung was messed up, but would be functional, with some work. The bullet had
been removed and would cause no more harm. There was no nerve damage or
other serious problems. The concern was to remove the blood from the lung,
patch it up so it wouldn't collapse, and get Hanna on the road to recovery.
Three hours later, Hanna was wheeled into the room that would be hers
for the next two weeks. She looked like hell, but nothing I'd ever seen was
more beautiful to me. My Hanna was ALIVE!
I was sitting at her bedside, holding her hand--both arms had IVs in
them--when our old `friend', Sergeant Jones, came in.
"Thought I'd find you here," he said.
"Well, you were right. What do you want?" I realized that I wasn't
very polite, but really didn't give a damn at that point.
Unperturbed--he was familiar with the effects of stress on witnesses--he
calmly said, "I need to talk with you. We can do it low key here, or you can
come down to the station and do it formal. Up to you."
"Not that I really give a damn, but what about?"
"You're accused of using more than `reasonable and necessary' force to
capture the gunman at the school this morning."
"WHAT??" I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"Yeah. Pritchard's parents have accused you of battery. They allege
that he was down and out, and you pounded his face with excessive force long
after there was any danger to anybody."
"You're kidding, right?"
"No. I'm not." He waited a moment, until he was sure he had my
attention. "However, I don't think they'll get anywhere with this claim. If
I were you, I'd point out the three shots he fired after you tackled him and
claim that you were just trying to be sure he couldn't shoot any more."
I nodded my thanks.
Then he proceeded to take me through a very skillful interrogation,
walking me through the events of the morning. When we'd gone over everything
a couple or three times, he said, "I've recorded our interview. I'll get a
statement typed up from it and have somebody bring it by your house in a day
or two... Can you take a couple of suggestions?"
I nodded and opened a hand for him to go on.
"Don't talk to the press for at least a day. See what the statement
says and call me if you want anything changed or expanded. Then don't tell
the press anything that you haven't told me."
"Do I have to talk to them?"
"Sooner or later." He shrugged. "They'll leave you alone once they've
heard your story."
After he left, I sat there, holding Hanna's hand, thinking about it
all. Her parents drifted in and out, and mine came by--all insisted on
giving me big hugs, which was embarrassing.
I thought about this girl--WOMAN--and what she meant to me.
The thought that I'd almost lost her made me turn cold and dead
inside. But remembering that she lived, and loved me, turned that cold into
warmth and content. I'd found my woman, my mate. That was all I cared about.
I was, by being there, caring for her as much as I could.
As the windows turned dark, someone brought a dinner tray for me.
(Hanna's dad had arranged it.) I picked at it without interest, but soon
polished it off without being aware that I had.
When I put down my napkin and took Hanna's hand again, I felt her
squeeze me. Then her eyelids fluttered and opened part way.
"Gary?"
"Who else, baby?"
"Are you OK?"
"I'm fine."
"Oh, I'm so glad!" she gasped.
"How are you?"
"I hurt everywhere," she panted. "It hurts to breathe. What happened
to me, Gary?"
"You stood in the door...so you could watch, I guess. Anyway, Dick got
off a few shots when I tackled him. You caught one."
"I remember you going after him. I was so proud... Then what
happened?"
"I dumped him on his head, but he got a couple more shots off. One got
you, baby."
"How bad? I hurt everywhere."
"It got your lung. You lost some lung, but they say you're going to be
OK. You'll be here a while. They need to keep you on oxygen until your
breathing settles down."
"That's why it hurts so much to talk?"
"Yeah, baby."
"Will you be here?"
"Well..." I saw her frown starting. "I have to go to school, and
sleep--they won't let me stay here. But I'll be here whenever I can. If I'm
not here, it's not because I'm not thinking of you. Don't ever forget that,"
I added, fiercely.
"OK, Gary... I love you..." her voice trailed off, and her eyes
closed.
Looking up, I saw Hanna's parents had come in while we were talking.
Hanna's mother smiled and said gently, "We'll take it now, Gary. Go home and
get some sleep. Tomorrow is likely to be busy. You can stop by here on your
way to school. We've left instructions that you and your parents are
`family'. The hospital won't hassle you about visiting hours."
I nodded my thanks and stood--amazed at how exhausted I was.
I don't know how I got home.
(1) (c) Copyright 2001 by EXTAR International, Ltd. extar@hotmail.com All
rights reserved.
Hanna - Chapter 2
Love Fulfilled
Even though she was home, the doctors insisted that Hanna remain on
oxygen. She didn't mind that, though she insisted she didn't need it. She
hated it when the therapists put her on pressure breathing, though. They
said it was necessary to get her damaged left lung functional.
Three weeks after Dick Pritchard opened fire in the high school
cafeteria, two students were dead and six others injured. A couple had been
critical but were now out of danger. The most serious was Hanna. Her damaged
lung kept filling with fluid and just wasn't learning to breathe properly.
She was in pain--more from the emergency operation that saved her life
than from the wound itself--and a lot of discomfort from the therapy
sessions she had to undergo three times a day.
I wanted to hold her in my arms and comfort her until the pain
disappeared. That wasn't possible. Her ribs couldn't stand any pressure,
where they were healing from being opened up during her operation... The
lack of that physical contact was even more of a frustration to her than to
me.
Once, when we were alone, she'd pulled her gown up to show me her
`zipper'. It was an ugly purple line running from below her left breast to
her naval and up between her breasts, with knotted black thread holding it
together.
"Can you stand making love to me, with that ugly thing on me?" she
asked.
"Golly, Hanna! I can stand making love to you as long as they don't
put a gorilla's head on you--I don't think I could kiss a mouth with fangs."
That got her giggling. Which made her hit me. Giggles hurt.
"Bastard! I love you for it, though... Come here and kiss me!"
I did, but couldn't hold her. It was a real frustration. I did pet the
breasts that were bared when she showed me her incision, though. That made
Hanna as frustrated as I was.
After another week, she was allowed to return to school. Her ribs were
heavily taped and she couldn't breathe very well. Those bones had to heal
and it wouldn't happen overnight. Our classmates welcomed her back and
showed real concern for her, the first few days. That improved her morale
greatly. My constant care and attention helped too, she said.
Every evening, I went right to her house from football practice,
usually staying for supper and helping her with homework. We couldn't sleep
together--she was still too fragile and her sleep was erratic. Hanna said
she needed to sleep when she could and not worry about a 230-pound, horny
lover.
Saturday, after the football game--we won and I had a good game,
though my head wasn't in it--I stopped to see Hanna on the way home.
With a big smile, she said, "Come with me. I have something to show
you."
Curious, I followed her to her room, where she latched the door, then
dropped her robe, revealing that glorious body--now without the bindings
about the ribs and no stitches on the incision.
"That's really spectacular, baby," I said. "But aren't your ribs still
only half-healed?"
"Yeah. So you can't hug me..." She grinned. "But I can get on TOP!
That thing wasn't hurt at all."
It took a couple of seconds for what she said to register. Then it
took another couple of seconds for me to get naked. I'd have done it faster,
but she was trying to push me down on the bed while I was trying to untie my
shoes and kick them off, so I could shuck my trousers and shorts.
In no time, I was on my back on her bed, sucked up into her hot, wet
core. I frantically scrambled to grab a couple of pillows to brace my head,
so I could suck on her nipples, and fondle those incredible D-cup boobs.
I was just getting into the swing of it when Hanna arched and
screamed, her pussy vibrating against me, before she collapsed atop me.
Remembering at the last second, I didn't hug her, but rather stroked her
gently, as she caught her breath.
Some time later, she raised her head and grinned at me. "Damn, I
needed that!"
"Me, too, baby," I responded fervently.
She discovered that I was still hard, inside her. "My poor honey
didn't get off? Well, I'm sure we can do something about that."
With a little clasping of internal muscles, a little undulation of her
torso, and some gentle abrasion of my chest with her hard nipples, she soon
had me gasping, then blowing my load into her greedy womb.
It was her sixteenth birthday.
- - * * * * * - -
The Pritchards had been whining on TV about how they didn't know what
had come over their son. He was normally such a nice boy. He had been very
depressed by being dumped by his girlfriend, Hanna. It must have been
something she did to him...
Those who knew them, knew better. Mr. Pritchard had made a bundle as a
contractor with a shady reputation. He was considered completely
unscrupulous and a skirt-chaser besides. Mrs. Pritchard was a very
attractive woman, but shared her husband's reputation: Smart, sexy, amoral,
and without class.
We buried our two classmates. I attended both funerals. At both, I
noted that prayers were offered for the speedy recovery of those who were
wounded in the shooting. When I told Hanna, she was grateful.
The Pritchards went to the first funeral, but left before the service
started. They were very obviously not welcome. When they left the church,
I'm told they discovered someone had scratched up their new Lexus with a
nail or key.
I never learned who did it, but no one ever shed a tear over the
Pritchards, either. At school, most everybody knew Hanna had only gone out
with Dick three times, including the disastrous final date. She was NOT his
`girlfriend'. And the notion that Hanna was somehow `responsible' for the
shootings was repugnant to everybody, except those who went into
uncontrollable laughter at the concept.
Pritchard was a selfish bully, who never picked a fight with anyone
who might stand up to him. Hanna was a serious mistake on his part. Every
kid in school knew that.
During the week after Hanna's birthday, the detective, Sergeant Jones,
came to interview us both. He brought along a Deputy District Attorney, Paul
Fleischer. Hanna and I went over our stories with them in detail. They also
wanted all the detail they could get about Hanna's relationship with
Dick--which she provided without holding anything back.
The Deputy DA said that he'd be the prosecutor at Dick's trial and
that they would be trying him as an adult, for aggravated murder. At that
point, they were leaning toward asking for the death penalty. He wanted to
know all he could about Hanna's involvement, in order to avoid surprises.
"Frankly, from the way the shooting went down, I think, Hanna, that
you and Gary were his primary targets. Had you been in the cafeteria when he
first came in, I think you'd be dead now... I also suspect, from the
statements the Pritchards are making, that they will try to shift the blame
to you, to get Dick off."
"That's silly!" Hanna exploded.
"Yeah. It is. And I'll use your wounds as a primary argument against
it. But who knows what a jury might do?"
"Is there anything we can do?"
"Well... Can we have your parents join us?"
Hanna opened the door and asked her folks, who were in the next room,
to come in.
"This is just something you might want to consider. I'm not offering
legal advice, or saying you should do this. OK?"
Everybody nodded.
"Do you have a lawyer of your own that you trust? A really good,
aggressive man?"
Hanna's dad said, "Not who's done any work for me. But I have a good
friend who fits. You know Roger Todd?"
"Yeah. He'd be perfect... My thought is that if Hanna, and perhaps
some of the other injured students, were to sue Dick for assault and
battery--and the parents of the two who were killed sue for wrongful
death--it would kick the props out from under him."
"But don't criminal trials take priority? It would be years before
those suits could be heard."
"True," Fleischer said. "But don't you think the press would report
that they'd been filed? Any prospective juror would know that."
Starting to see his strategy, we all smiled. I had an idea of my own,
too.
"Mr. O'Malley?" I said. "Couldn't you have Mr. Todd monitor what the
Pritchards are saying? If they get out of line, we could sue them for
slander, too."
Hanna's dad, Aiden, agreed, "I never liked Pritchard. Arrogant and
slimy. Good idea, Gary. We'll do it. Would you like to go with me to see
Todd?"
My eyes widened. "Sure. If I'd be a help."
"Oh, yes. You would."
Football season ended. We hadn't made the playoffs, but I was
confident about next year--most of our starters would be back, a year older
and bigger.
I went with Hanna's dad to meet his lawyer friend. I didn't have
anything to sue Dick over, personally, but might soon if Dick's parents
stepped over the line in what they said about me.
Hanna and I were sleeping together again and our lives were settling
down to the routine of school, homework, family...
- - + + + + + - -
Thanksgiving was two days off when Hanna surprised me.
No. She shocked me.
After we'd made love--on my bed, since we were spending the night at
my house (I needed my own computer for my homework.): "Gary? We really love
each other, right?"
"Yeah." I grinned at her. "At least, I don't know what I'd do without
you."
"I'm afraid we're going to test that."
"Huh?" was my brilliant reply.
"Gary... We're going to have a baby."
"Sure. I'm looking forward to it."
"No, dummy. We're going to have a baby in a few months!"
"What? How? I mean, you've been on the pill, and everything...?"
"How? Remember when I seduced you on my birthday?"
I grinned. "How could I forget? I think you made me come three times!"
"Yeah." She grinned, too. It was a good memory for both of us. "I did
too. The only problem was, I wasn't protected. They didn't give me my daily
pill in the hospital, for the two weeks. Apparently I was fertile as a
turtle for about a month as a result. Whatever... Anyway, my love, I'm
pregnant. So, what do you want to do?"
My mind was in shock. It wasn't racing--it was darting into corners
and colliding with walls.
I heard myself say, "What do YOU want to do?"
She smiled. "I hadn't wanted this so soon. I know the problems I've
caused. But I really don't want to abort this baby."
I gathered her in my arms. "I don't want you to abort our child
either, Hanna. And I think we've both caused any problems we face. My
preference would be to get married right now. But you have to be a year
older in this state--pregnant or not."
She kissed me, hard, at that. "Thank you... Gary, I love you so much!"
"Hanna, we have to talk to our parents--right now. Maybe they'll have
some ideas. Anyway, we owe it to them to talk to them about it."
"I was going to talk to Mom tomorrow. I needed to talk to you, first,
dummy!"
Ignoring the fist in my ribs, I just kissed her.
"How about, we get Mom to invite your folks to dinner?" I suggested.
"Then we can talk to all four of them at once and nobody will feel left
out."
That's what we did.
When dessert was served, I said, "Well, everybody, I have good news
and I have bad news. Which do you want first?"
There was a small babble, but no consensus.
"The good news is, we're going to have a baby. The bad news is,
Hanna's pregnant. We're not thrilled, but we're not torn up about it,
either. You know we want children. We would rather have waited. To answer
the `how' before you ask; it seems the hospital didn't keep her on the pill
while they had her. That created a fertile period no one told us about...
Anyhow, we'd like your thoughts about what we should do now."
My brothers had sense enough to keep their nasty little mouths shut.
So did Hanna's sister.
Mom asked, just for the record, "Have you considered abortion?"
"Yeah. We don't believe in that and would only do it if we were
convinced the baby would be severely deformed or retarded--or Hanna's health
was endangered."
"OK. I wanted that out of the way," Mom said. "What would you kids
prefer?"
"Mom," I said, as Hanna grasped my hand on the table, where no one
could miss it, "what we want more than anything is to get married and give
our child as solid a family as you've given us."
"You understand," Aiden said, "that this makes everything a lot harder
for you. Gary, you still have a year of high school, then college. Hanna has
a year more than that."
"Yes, sir. We understand that only too well. We'd have preferred to
wait. The choice has been taken from us. Yes, technically, we violated the
rules we agreed to. But it was done innocently. We just didn't realize...
Well. It's done. We'll just have this little guy a few years early. We won't
love him any less."
My dad said, "You can get married, you know. The age of consent in a
state nearby is 16. You could marry there."
I looked at Hanna. The expression of joy on her face was all the
answer I needed.
"Will you all come with us? We'd really like you there."
Both sets of parents grinned and nodded.
In the end, we drove to the neighboring state and were married in a
civil ceremony at the courthouse.
A week later, we were married in our church, with white gown and the
whole bit. That marriage certificate was from the church, not the state.
Mr. Todd, when asked, said that we could register both the marriage
certificate from the other state and the one from our church with the County
Clerk. That would make our marriage binding in our own state, even though
Hanna `wasn't old enough' to be legally married here.
We didn't care. We were together and our baby would be legitimate.
Another great result was that Hanna treated me to TWO spectacular
wedding nights!
- - + + + + + - -
The Pritchards stepped over the line. On national TV, they said that I
was a brutish lout, who had savagely tortured their poor baby when he was
clearly unable to harm anyone.
Mr. Todd immediately sued them for libel and slander.
I had developed a good rapport with the University of Oregon's
football coach. He said that, barring something really strange that he
couldn't imagine, he'd offer me a `full ride' to play football for him.
Since that's where I really wanted to go and I respected him and liked the
way he treated his players (90% graduate!), I told him that, barring
something really strange that I couldn't imagine, I'd play for him.
So it wasn't hard for Mr. Todd to get a statement from the coach
saying how much the Pritchards' remarks about me could hurt me in the
college scholarship sweepstakes. A `full ride' at an elite university could
easily amount to over a quarter million dollars. Add punitive damages...
Then, during `discovery' in Hanna's suit, Mr. Todd learned that the
Pritchards, as a tax dodge, had put the majority of their assets in Dick's
name. He immediately obtained an injunction, preventing those assets from
being transferred. And he managed to get the court to order that the assets
could not be used for lawyers' fees for Dick's defense in the criminal trial
until the civil suits against him were finished and the judgments, if any,
satisfied. (That decree was eventually appealed clear to the US Supreme
Court, which refused to hear the appeal.)
Suddenly, the Pritchards were very quiet. They refused interview
requests and did not appear at any of their usual social hangouts. They
stopped going to the country club, or eating out at the couple of good
restaurants in town. Basically, they stayed home and stayed quiet.
There was a brief flurry of publicity when Dick's defense lawyer tried
to resign from the case. He stated that his client refused to accept his
advice and demanded a long list of expensive legal and investigative
services that he had no ability to pay for. (The lawyer knew that Dick's
assets were beyond his reach and wanted him to just plead `guilty' and throw
himself on the mercy of the court. Dick had watched the O.J. Simpson trial
and knew that one could get out of most anything. The difference was, O.J.
had money--Dick didn't.) The court refused to let the lawyer withdraw, but
ruled that he was not required to `front' expenses for his client.
`Insanity' defenses were quickly ruled out. Psychiatrists who
interviewed Dick stated that he was completely sane, within the legal
definition, and had coldly planned what he did. He was governed by rage, as
a result of humiliation of an ego never tempered by shame or morality. They
further stated that Hanna and I were his primary targets--everybody else at
the school who had witnessed his humiliation was just fodder for his rage.
The DA pressed for a speedy trial and announced that the state would
seek the death penalty.
Dick's lawyer said he'd plead guilty in exchange for life.
The DA laughed. "If ever there was a case that fit our death penalty
statutes, this one is it. We will vigorously try this case and prove that
Dick Pritchard killed his schoolmates with malice aforethought. And we will
prove, in the penalty phase, that he planned the whole thing and intended to
kill two specific schoolmates, plus as many others as he could. This young
man, by his actions and attitude, has proven himself unfit to live."
After that announcement, the DA wouldn't return Dick's lawyer's calls,
referring them all to his trial deputy, Paul Fleischer. Paul told the
lawyer, "I'm all you're going to get, Bob, going over my head won't happen.
We're not bending an inch on this one. No deals. I'm going to see that
little animal fry."
With little hope of getting paid and a client he came to loathe, the
lawyer didn't spend much time on the case. Dick refused to plead guilty,
unless the death penalty was no longer an issue. All the lawyer was willing
to do was to drag things out as much as he could.
- - + + + + + - -
The first of July, our son was born. We named him Jason and thought he
was beautiful. Hanna's magnificent body handled the birth process without
flaw. Jason was a quick and relatively easy delivery.
I'll always be grateful to my dad. He had the old chicken coop in our
back yard made into a cottage for us. The structure was old, but solid.
After thorough cleaning, it was insulated and sheet-rocked. Modern flooring,
wiring, heating and plumbing were installed. It was no longer a converted
chicken coop, but a comfortable home. We lived there happily, when we
weren't away at school.
Our love life was more vigorous than ever. Having our own baby was a
tremendous turn-on for both of us. I still grin when I think of that time.
During her pregnancy, Hanna and I took up running, as something we
could do together to maintain conditioning. We ran together until her
seventh month. Then we walked at least five miles a day, before I took off
on a solo run.
When school started, we tucked into it. I was busy with football and
we both had a lot of homework. Of course, neither of us wasted any time
worrying about dates or getting laid. We got laid every night--and spent our
time on essentials. Playtime was reserved for Jason, who was fast becoming a
cheerful, mellow kid.
Our high school didn't have its own day-care facility, like many big
city schools do. But it had an arrangement with a good day school a couple
blocks away. As soon as he was old enough, we enrolled Jason there. He
thrived.
So did we.
We had one `preseason' game, which we won in a blowout, and three
league games that we won handily, when the coach at Oregon called me.
"Gary, this is Coach Ullrich."
"Hi, Coach. Looks like the Ducks're having a good year.
Congratulations."
"Thanks, Gary. We'll do OK. Look. I called to see if you're still
interested in us."
"Coach, if you give me a `full ride' and treat me fair, like we
discussed when you visited, I'm yours."
"I'm saddened that you added that about treating you fair--but I
understand why you did, with the recent news about how scholarship athletes
are treated at a couple of my big competitors. I'm offering a full ride with
a guarantee that your scholarship will continue if you are injured. Of
course, if you could qualify for an academic scholarship, I'd be happy,
too."
"Done, coach. Send me the paper."
"Great, Gary. Welcome."
Hanna and I had discussed this in detail and we'd gone over it with
dad. We all agreed. As long as I was getting a full ride, I wasn't worried
about starting, or playing time. I knew Coach would be fair, but would put
the team first. I just wanted the opportunity to get a good education.
When the paper arrived, the offer was for a four-year scholarship,
including room, board, tuition, books and incidentals. Provision was made
for married housing and there was a specific clause that, if I couldn't play
because I was injured, I would not lose the scholarship.
Two weeks before `letter of intent day', I signed.
As I expected, we made the state playoffs. I had a great year. At six
feet, four inches and two hundred thirty-five pounds, I was one of the
larger high school football players. An end, I was really tough on high
school defensive backs, since I had the size to run right over most of them.
I won't bore you with my statistics. Sufficient to say that they were
impressive and I had offers from a lot of other schools, before I accepted
Coach Ullrich's.
My senior year in high school was fun. Sure I was out of the `dating
scene'. But I had a wife I adored and a son who lit up my world. Hanna and I
participated in most of the social activities and events our classmates did.
We even went to the prom. It was great. In fact, we felt we had more fun,
since we didn't have to deal with the tensions most of our friends had.
("Will she put out?" "Will he try to go all the way, or can I get by with
just giving him a blowjob?")
To make it even better, Hanna really understands football and enjoys
the game. It's not just that I'm in it, either. She's a knowledgeable fan.
That winter, we resumed running together and took up tennis as a way
to stay in shape indoors out of the rain, a break from constant running.
Come spring, Hanna insisted, and we both went out for track. "After
all, Gary, Oregon has one of the best track programs in the country. Maybe
we'll find something there, too. And I'd rather run in competition than just
pound the pavement for exercise--even though you make that fun."
I found myself running middle distances and intermediate hurdles. I
got pretty good with the shot put and discus, too.
Hanna ran middle distances too, but she found her niche in the jumping
events.
"I'd have thought I'd be too big, too heavy for high jump and pole
vault...boobs and all... But my heights are better than any other girl in
the state right now. And it's fun!" She giggled. "Aren't you glad you
thought of track, to keep in shape?"
I sputtered. The whole thing was her idea...
"Oh, chill out, Gary," she growled, whacking my arm--though a tiny
grin ruined the effect. "Of course it was your idea. You don't think I'd get
us into something like this?"
I sputtered some more and she put Jason in my lap.
"Here. Hold him a bit until he goes to sleep. OK?"
What's a guy to do? I turned on a baseball game and my son and I went
to sleep listening to Joe Morgan explaining the nuances of hitting a hard
slider.
Near the end of the school year, to my considerable surprise, I set a
new high school state record for discus and had the best distance for the
year with the shot. Needless to say, the track coach at the university came
to see us.
"I know you're committed to football, Gary. But, if I square it with
Coach Ullrich, would you consider throwing the discus, rather than spring
football?"
"Sure. I like discus. But only if Coach Ullrich agrees. He's been very
straight with me and I gave my word."
"And I expect you'll keep it, Gary," the coach replied. "Now, Hanna...
would you consider our track program too?"
Hanna grinned. "Sure, coach, if it will get me a scholarship. You need
to know that I might need a year off somewhere in there, though. We're
likely to decide to have another baby before I finish college."
He grinned back and held out his hand. "Done. If you get best in state
in either jumping event, I'll get you a full ride and child care, too."
I was chuckling. "I already got child care."
"Well, I'm sure Coach Ullrich won't mind splitting the cost... Hanna,
are you coming with Gary in the fall? You'll finish high school near the
university?"
"You bet! I'm not letting this hunk out of my sight for more than a
few hours at a time."
"Good. I'd like our jumping coach to work with you a little. The track
coach at our high school doesn't have any problem with us helping some of
his people."
We all grinned.
By graduation, I was ready for it. I'd won a couple of small
scholarships for academics and a couple of honors for football and track. Of
course, they were all announced at graduation and I had to stand and wave at
everybody when they applauded. I just wanted to get on with it. High school
had been fun and I'd even managed to learn a little. But I couldn't wait for
the new challenges of college.
- - + + + + + - -
Our primary agenda was to locate a place to live for the next four or
five years. We spent several days on and around the campus. I finally wised
up and asked Coach Ullrich for help.
He grinned and said, "Talk to Coach Jones. He's our expert."
Coach Jones was the Special Teams coach, but finding athletes a place
to live was part of his job, too. He soon arranged for us to tour the newest
married student apartments on the campus. They were very nice, but I'd been
told that they had a three-year waiting list.
"Not for a couple where you both will be on full rides," he said.
"Will a two-bedroom unit be enough, or will you need three?"
Hanna laughed. "We better have three. We expect visitors and may make
a sister for Jason before we graduate."
Before the day was done, we arranged for a three-bedroom apartment,
beginning the week before football practice began.
Then we had to contend with Dick's trial.
~ ~ * * * * * ~ ~
The Deputy DA, Paul Fleischer, met with us again, to go over our story
one more time. He discussed in detail what we could expect. He told us we
should expect the defense to try to attack us, even to smear us, personally.
We discussed what our answers would be to the expected and unexpected
questions, and how we would respond in various situations.
From the moment jury selection started, it was obvious that the
defense strategy was to constantly attack any and every target of
opportunity. The entire student body of the high school and its staff were
to be painted as vindictive enemies, trying to hurt poor Dick in any way
they could. Stated flatly, it was ludicrous. But the way the defense lawyer
worked it, it almost made a twisted kind of sense.
Insanity had been ruled out as a defense, but placing the blame
elsewhere might make that crucial difference--especially when the jurors
were voting on the sentencing phase.
In the prosecution's portion of the trial, the evidence that Dick had
committed the crimes, and the psychiatric testimony that he had planned his
assault carefully and in cold blood, all came out. There wasn't really too
much the defense could challenge, though they tried.
I was called, to tell how I'd seen what was happening and tackled Dick
as he was shooting his pistol--with another stuck in his belt.
The DA asked if I hadn't hit him too often, once he was down.
"No, Sir. He was still fighting me strongly. And he had another weapon
in his belt. I needed to make sure that he couldn't hurt anybody else. That
was all I was trying to do. And I didn't do it very well, I'm sad to say. He
was able to shoot Hanna after I tackled him."
"By `Hanna', you're referring to Hanna O'Malley Rogers, your wife?"
"Yes, sir. But we weren't married then."
The defense lawyer tried to confuse me and make me admit that I'd
abused Dick after he was down.
"Sir, maybe, if I was a trained ninja, or Green Beret or something,
I'd have been able to control him with less effort. I'm a high school kid.
This guy was killing my schoolmates. I did what I could to make him
stop--and to make sure he'd stay stopped."
"So you wanted to kill him?"
"No sir. I wanted to make sure he couldn't shoot anyone else. That's
all. I wanted him to stop."
"Three others dragged you off of him. They felt you were beating him
to a pulp."
"I felt he was still fighting to throw me off, so he could shoot some
more. I think it's a case of honest difference of opinion, based on
perspective, sir."
That comment made more of an impression on the jury than I could have
imagined.
The defense lawyer continued, "What would be your reply, if someone
said you were trying to pound Dick to a pulp long after he was unconscious?"
"I'd say that they were mistaken. I'm disciplined on the football
field, and know how to let cheap shots and trash talk roll off my back. Dick
was still trying to fight me when my friends dragged me off him. I screamed
at them to take his other pistol away before he could use it, since they
were holding me so I couldn't get to him. And remember: It was AFTER I
tackled him that Hanna was shot."
"And that's why you were beating him--he shot the girl you stole from
him?"
"Sir... That presupposes two things..."
The DA was on his feet. "Objection! The question assumes facts not in
evidence."
The judge thought about it for a moment, then said, "You have a point
counselor, but I think the answer to the question would save us all some
time." Then to me, "You may answer the question."
"Sir, as I said, that presupposes two things. First that I knew he'd
shot Hanna. I didn't know that until it was all over and I saw her slumped
over in the doorway. I was the first to see that she'd been hurt and the
first to go to her--AFTER a couple of other guys had control of Dick.
"Second, Hanna and I have been each other's best friend since we were
five or so...
"It was later that our long-standing and very close friendship ripened
into love, followed by marriage. I didn't `steal' Hanna from Dick or anybody
else. She chose me freely, as I chose her... I can say that, had Dick not
tried to rape her, she might still be dating him. Though I can't really
speak for Hanna on that. Knowing Dick, he'd have screwed it up sooner or
later."
The defense lawyer pounced on that, but couldn't make any headway with
me.
A day later, the prosecution rested and the defense had its turn.
Hanna was called as a witness and immediately designated a `hostile
witness'.
Asked if she hadn't humiliated Dick, privately and publicly, Hanna
answered the `yes' that was all she was allowed to say. But on
cross-examination, she was able to bring out that Dick had not only tried to
humiliate her by raping her--in her opinion the ultimate humiliation for a
woman--he'd attempted to compound that by spreading nasty, untrue rumors
about her at school. She'd responded using the only non-violent weapon she
had--the truth as she knew it, presented in a way that would make Dick look
like the weasel he was.
Then the defense questioned whether Jason might not really be Dick's
son.
After the judge let her answer the question, over vehement prosecution
objections, Hanna said, in a deadly calm voice between gritted teeth, "If I
thought there was even the slightest possibility that my son shared
Pritchard's genes, I'd have aborted him as soon as I knew I was pregnant!
The very idea makes me nauseous! If it will resolve any issues, my son and I
will undergo DNA testing. And I think my husband would, too. For the record,
my son was conceived on my sixteenth birthday--by my husband. Pritchard was
in jail at the time--which I think can be verified."
It took two more days, but Dick's goose was cooked. The jury returned
a verdict of `guilty' on all the felony counts.
The sentencing phase was more interesting, in a strange way. The
defense tried to show that, when he murdered and injured his schoolmates,
Dick was reacting the only way he could to Hanna's heartless humiliation.
The prosecution countered with the psychiatric reports and pounded on
the facts that Dick had instigated everything and that, were his arguments
to prevail, no one would be safe from the animals in society.
The jury agreed.
The sentence was `death'. Three times.
The judge directed that Dick be transported to the state prison, there
to be executed by lethal injection. The sentence would be carried out within
sixty days of the mandatory review by the state supreme court.
When the sentence was announced, Dick's parents looked daggers at
Hanna and me. It was like they were blaming us, personally, for Dick's
predicament.
Hanna and I were just glad it was over. We'd only been in court when
we had to testify and when the sentence was announced. (The jury only spent
a half-hour deliberating the sentence. They apparently had their minds made
up long before.)
- - + + + + + - -
We got ready to move to our new apartment and tried to stay in shape.
I was not looking forward to the two-a-days I'd be facing when football
practice started.
I told Coach Ullrich I wouldn't feel put upon if he `red-shirted' me
for a season. If I graduated with Hanna, that was OK.
With a warm smile, he said, "You know, I've been coaching for thirty
years. This is the first time I've had a player not complain bitterly when I
red-shirted him. Thanks, Gary. Let's see how practice goes. I may need you
right away. If not, I'll hold you out this year. We'll see, OK?"
Since it was my idea, I could only agree.
I was red-shirted as a freshman. The university's team was mostly
sophomores and juniors and wasn't expected to make it to any bowl games that
year. Saving me for a year, when the entire team would be better, made
sense.
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