Author: Pescador del Valle
Title: Afterlife
Part: Chapter 1 of 6
Universe: Vixen Circle
Summary: A traffic accident gives a man a chance to put 
matters to right.
Keywords: mf, no-sex
Language: English
Copyright: 2010

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*                 WARNING!                  *
* This text file contains sexually explicit *
* material. If you do not wish to read this *
* type of literature, or you are under age, *
*      PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!      *
*********************************************

Comments appreciated : 
  see Pescador del Valle on www.asstr.org/authors.html
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They say that, just before you die, your life flashes 
before your eyes.

I have to say I don't know if that is true but I do know 
when I was rushed from the ambulance into the Emergency 
Room that I was watching from overhead as the machines 
reported I was flat-lining and then the world went into 
reverse, sped up and blurred out.

---

I opened my eyes and immediately felt I was a Hobbit or 
worse.  Everything around me was oversize.  I was stunned 
when faces bent over me.  Outrageously large, they were 
still familiar though odd at the same time.  It was Nan 
and Pop, looking more like their old photos than how I 
remembered them.

"He's got his father's mouth and chin."

"Your eyes and nose though dear.  Did you have too hard a 
time?"

I could understand them!

"What the fuck!?"

Except it came out as a soft whimper.

"I'm sore, and looking forward to a nap."

"Oh sorry dear.  We'll go."

"No.  I didn't mean that Mom.  I've got to feed my 
darling little Albert first and I'm glad you're both 
here.  Trev's all worked up and maybe you can help calm 
him down if you don't mind.  I think he's just as 
exhausted after fourteen hours but I can't get him to go 
home to sleep.  Nine months of growing, fourteen hours 
arriving and doesn't he look just darling?"

"Skun rabbits every one of them," my Pop muttered quietly 
so only I heard him.

I was unable to assume I was dreaming - none of my dreams 
had ever been this real.  Well except for a couple of 
early wet dreams during puberty.  Perhaps it was drug-
induced hallucinations as the nursing staff took over 
from the ambos and tried to keep me alive.  If so, I 
hoped they kept pumping the drugs into me.

I must have drifted off.  I had my mind but also my then 
body - or should that be my then mind and my now body?  
When I registered things again the most obvious was 
because my skin seemed on fire.

"Arrgh" - or rather an infantile cry.

Was my crotch going to feel like this until I learned to 
use the toilet?  If so I was going to be potty trained 
before I could walk!  Had I gotten nappy rash so soon or 
was it going to get even worse before it got better?

A new face.  A very familiar face yet one who had been 
dead for quite a while.

"Hello Mom.  I've missed you.  Oh, and could you please 
change my nappy?"

It wasn't as embarrassing being changed as finding I no 
longer had control over those bodily functions.  I'd 
expected to have to go through that again but not for 
twenty or thirty years.  Having Nan and Pop looking over 
Mom's shoulders to check out my equipment was all it 
should be didn't help though.

Just getting the urine-soaked cloth away from my delicate 
skin was definitely a help, though the wash cloth could 
have been warmer and I found the lotion Mom slathered 
over me to be bloody cold.

"Time to see if you'll feed then Bertie Boy."

"I'll go if you want," offered Pop.

"No.  I'm sure you saw me being fed often enough and one 
tit looks much like another."

"Not that much is visible when you're feeding but if you 
think one tit is the same as another you haven't been 
looking at the same women as I have when I'm walking down 
by the beach."

"Dad, you are a dirty old man and I don't know how Mom 
puts up with you."

"Because he still shows an interest in this old girl when 
I'm beside him down at the beach."

It was apparent that having her own child put my mom on a 
more equal footing with my grandparents.  It certainly 
wasn't how I remembered them talking around me.

I was carried over to my mother's hospital bed where she 
laid me carefully across her lap as she released the 
front of her nightie.  She wore no bra - I wasn't sure if 
she'd worn a maternity bra but assumed she must have.  
Perhaps she hadn't had a chance to don it yet.  I was 
surprised at how large and round her aureoles were - I 
couldn't recall if I'd ever seen them.

"He knows what that's for," laughed Pop.  "Look at him 
staring at it."

I turned to face him.

"Ooh, he doesn't like you making fun of him," Nan teased 
her husband.

"He's too young to even turn to the sound of my voice 
yet.  Probably just his head lolling over."

I wished I could have spoken to him just to see the 
expression on his face.

I didn't even have a chance to turn back around by myself 
as Mom guided my face back to her thick nipple.  My lips 
reacted on contact - I didn't have much control and 
instincts played more of a role than my wishes.

As I tasted the sweet warm milk that filled my mouth I 
concentrated and found I was able to bend my fingers to 
make the Churchillian insult that was more common than 
the middle digit bird of later years.  Pop guffawed but 
declined to explain to either his wife or daughter.  I 
was fed, burped and settled into my cot.  Contented, I 
drifted off to sleep.

---------

I felt lousy.  My head ached, my throat was sore and I 
felt something jab my arm as I moved.  I opened my eyes 
and saw a drip hanging beside my bed.  There was another 
tube under the covers and my penis itched.  I was in the 
hospital, well *A* hospital, but things were different.

The room was smaller.  No, it wasn't, the fixtures were.  
I turned my head and saw it was a ward - four beds that 
side and, when I turned (fighting back tears as my head 
exploded) another three the other way.  Half had young 
kids in or by them, the other half were empty.

I tried to gauge my situation.  Obviously I wasn't an 
infant and I recalled I had once had an illness that had 
necessitated hospitalisation but the only real memory I 
had of the occasion was riding down the corridor on the 
laundry trolley - I must have been well enough to go home 
and was bored.

A nurse poked her head into the ward to check her charges 
and saw I was awake.

"Hello Albert.  It's nice to finally meet you.  You've 
been out of things for a day or so.  I'm Beth.  Is there 
anything you need?"

"Do you think I could have some paracetamol for my 
headache please?"

"Paracetamol?"

Damn!  "Aspirin."

"I'll have to see.  Now your Mommy and Daddy will be in 
shortly.  I can get you a drink."

"Yes please.  At least with the catheter I don't have to 
worry about being too weak to get to the bathroom."

I did recall that it was some years before parents were 
encouraged to stay with their kids in hospital.  I 
certainly wasn't stressed by their absence.

I accepted the glass of cordial and the surprised praise.

"Well you're very knowledgeable for your age."

I considered the young woman standing over me.  My high 
pitched voice gave me pause; I would need to be more 
careful about what I said.  Looking at her figure I was 
also grateful that my current body was not yet able to 
respond - I didn't know whether boners and catheters 
mixed comfortably.

As she tidied up I decided to try to get a better idea of 
my age and situation.

"Miss Beth, do you have a newspaper I could have a look 
at please?"

"A newspaper!?  I've got some comic books if you'd prefer 
them?"

"Thank you but I wanted to see the funny pages.  If you 
leave them in the rest of the paper I can give it back 
without messing it up."

Was my proposal too ridiculous for, what, a six year old?

"I'll see."

She checked my vitals and looked to see the catheter 
wasn't causing me any problems.  I couldn't help myself.

"Be gentle with me Beth."

She looked up in surprise.  "Are you sure you're only 
seven?"

Was I that old?  Apparently.  At the moment she was more 
likely to be right than me.  Beth left me to check over 
the other kids.  I watched for a while; she had a nice 
butt though the uniforms of the time did nothing to 
enhance the viewing experience.

"Hi.  I'm Gavin."

A sandy-haired kid from a couple of beds over had brought 
me some comics.  I recognised him.  I should, he had been 
my friend for almost tem years - then I'd proven myself 
unworthy of that friendship.  I'd fallen prey to the 
prejudices of the times, prejudices I'd outgrown and was 
now ashamed of.

"Hi Gavin.  I'm Bert, Albert really.  Sit down for a 
minute."

Gavin sat and, over the next half hour or so, refreshed 
my memory of much of his early history.  I found myself 
relating to him more as father and son rather than his 
peer and had to control my responses.  I also had to 
avoid purging my guilt with apologies he would not 
understand.

I guess I must have appeared thoughtful and perhaps 
constrained and I frequently had to think back to 
contemporary reference that the seven year old Bert 
should have known while the fifty seven year old version 
had barely a clue.

Gavin's enthusiasm proved infectious though and, if I 
couldn't always remember the shows he spoke of, Wyle E. 
Coyote and the Road Runner or Bugs and Elmer and Daffy 
were repeated often enough in the future that I had solid 
memories of them.

---

My parents came in to find me intrigued with the news of 
the day.  It was 1963 and Kennedy was heading into the 
primaries with Khrushchev, Cuba and Dallas still ahead of 
him.

I felt I couldn't tell any of this.  What good would it 
serve?  If I wasn't ignored, whoever I told likely would 
be - or else locked up for believing a seven year old was 
from the future.  And if I *DID* tell of events I knew 
would happen and *COULD* get believed what would be the 
consequences?

Take Kennedy as a prime example.  How would the world 
differ if he wasn't shot?  Would Vietnam end sooner or 
escalate so more died?  Would the South win this time and 
preserve the corrupt puppet rulers?  How would policy 
changes affect Communist China and the Middle East?  
Would there be any?  Would the arms race with the Soviet 
Union slacken so that their economy was not under the 
pressures that saw the fall of the Berlin Wall and the 
restoration of sovereign states instead of soviet 
republics?

I was happy to be taken from my musings by my parents 
arrival.  I appreciated the love shown me more than I 
might have the first time I'd been here and learned how 
much Mom and Dad had worried over me.

I faced his humorous taunts over my reading the paper and 
then the quite different experience of being crushed to 
my mother's bosom.

I *felt* old enough to have sired *HER* and my thoughts 
were definitely not filial.

---

Two days later I said goodbye temporarily to my new 
friend.  Gavin didn't know it yet but his parents would 
move in about six weeks and he would then transfer to my 
school where we would become even closer friends.

I wasn't there though.  I didn't move on as quickly as 
before but I'd barely gotten re-acquainted with my other 
friends when I woke up from a peaceful sleep in quite 
different circumstances.

---------

The ground was hard beneath me and gritty.  Asphalt, a 
basketball court, mesh netting surrounding me.

"Leave him alone!"

A hand touched my shoulder; very carefully.

"Are you alright Albert?"

I shook my head to indicate no and found I wasn't quite 
as bad as I had imagined.

"I think so."

"I'd stay down if I were you.  You're only going to end 
up there again."

Not a friendly warning.  The memory returned.  Harry 
Powell!  Nemesis of Gavin and myself and any other 
"studious" child.

I'd been what? Eleven? Twelve? Thirteen?

He'd been giving Gavin and myself shit all day and we'd 
had to take it knowing he was only trying to goad someone 
into giving him an excuse to take matters to a physical 
level.

He'd also been messing with Sam - Samantha.  Girls 
weren't immune from his interest and Sam was, well not 
exactly weird, but uncertain.  Four or five years later 
she'd faced social isolation when she'd declared herself 
a lesbian - even a decade later she would have suffered 
but at that time no-one was sympathetic.  Well Gavin was 
an exception because he suffered a similar problem and it 
was my attitude to Sam that brought him out of the closet 
to me.  I guess he felt we were better friends than I 
proved to be but instead of changing my mind about Sam I 
outed him instead and destroyed his life.

Well my attitudes were different, more tolerant, this 
time around and I also held less fear of bully Harry 
Powell!

"Last time" I'd followed Harry's advice and taken a dive.  
This time I rose a little shakily to my feet.

"You are a bully Harry.  A thug with no future but making 
people scared.  Well I'm not afraid of you any more.  
Enough is enough."

I didn't make any grandiose promises that he'd be the one 
on the ground.  I couldn't guarantee that; I was in my 
early teen body and he still outweighed me.

Harry intended to use that weight advantage and rushed 
me.  He could hit pretty hard but figured I might be able 
to punch back with similar force.  Sitting on me though, 
he could pummel me while my arms were trapped.

I waited the second it took for him to cover the ground 
and then reached up and seized the collar of his jumper.  
I half fell, half rolled backwards, adding my weight to 
the tug downwards while raising my foot to his stomach.

I had taken a martial arts evening class while at college 
and at that time martial arts meant Judo or perhaps 
Karate.  I could barely remember the title of the throw 
and had only used it once in competition but the stomach 
throw was simple elegance.  Harry found himself flipped 
over due solely to his own momentum.  My effort simply 
inverted his direction and gave him a point to pivot 
around.

His scream of surprised abruptly turned into a forced 
exhalation and I used the brief period of disorientation 
to slip a strangle hold onto Harry.

One foot under his armpit - not gently placed there I 
admit; a leg over his throat; and my hand pressing his 
wrist backwards so his straightened arm was stretched 
against my thigh.

Harry clawed at my leg but I braced myself and added a 
little more tension to his arm.

"Arggh.  Stop it you shit.  I'm going to kill you when I 
get up."

A real possibility but I wasn't going to admit that.

"I don't think so Harry.  You went down pretty fast and 
that's not the only move I know.  In fact, I could just 
tighten my grip... (which I did temporarily) and *YOU* 
might be the one to die.  So I guess you have to ask 
yourself - do you feel lucky?  Well?  Do you?... punk!"

I wasn't sure if I'd preceded Dirty Harry but I felt like 
getting dirty with this Harry.

"No.  Okay.  I'll leave you alone."

"You'll leave us all alone Harry.  Understand!"  I wasn't 
asking.

He glared and nodded anyway.

It was risky but I did have to let him up sometime and 
delaying would only make me look weaker and give him time 
to plot.  Knocking him out was attractive but likely to 
involve me in more trouble than I might be now.

I rolled out the way quickly and crouched, ready to 
launch myself away from any immediate attack but Harry 
turned away from me and rose to the cheers of the 
spectators.  It was clear the cheers were not for him and 
he wasn't happy about it.

"You got all your things Sam?"

I saw some of the items Harry had knocked out of her arms 
and bag and bent to pick them up.  It was the sudden 
horror in her face that warned me.  Harry wasn't finished 
but then neither was I.

He was about to grab me and I was bent over.  No time to 
throw him so I spun in place and cold cocked him in the 
balls.  It was as sweet a punch as I can ever recall even 
if Sam and Gavin and a couple of others had to drag me 
out from under a writhing Harry.

"The only thing stopping me from kicking you in the balls 
now is I'd probably break my toes on your hands."  I 
swung my foot at his face instead, grounding it just 
before I made contact.  "You don't get another chance 
Harry.  Think about it."

Gavin helped me with Sam's things.

"Thank you.  Both of you."

We headed off together.

"Why did you stand up for me Albert.  I'm grateful, don't 
think I'm not, and it was wonderful to see someone give 
Harry what for but why?"

"I guess in some ways and at times I've been as nasty to 
people as Harry.  I'd rather be friends."

"I don't know you've ever been nasty to me but I'm happy 
to be your friend."

---

My first stay lasted a couple of hours if that.  My 
second a couple of days.  This third one saw me watching 
the months tick over on the calendar.

Sam and Gavin hung around me as much for my protection as 
their own.  While they didn't think they would be much 
use against Harry they had taken heart from his beating 
and were prepared to risk injury in adding their two 
cents worth if needed.  At the very least six eyes were 
likely to spot trouble more easily than two.

It wasn't merely self-protection though, we did enjoy 
each other's company.

As I spent more time as a thirteen year old I became more 
influenced by my thirteen year old feelings and 
interests.  I wasn't a fifty-seven year old man in a 
thirteen year old body but more and more a thirteen year 
old with the experiences of fifty-seven years of life.  
More and more of my memories of the recent past became 
clearer as well.  At first I needed to concentrate but 
after a few days I found my selves melding well.

One of the things my friends wanted to know was where I'd 
learned Judo.  I knew it was a featured sport in the '64 
Olympics in Tokyo but would they remember that?

"I have an uncle who learned it in the Army," I lied.  "I 
can teach you a little if you like."

I had to be careful not to make Gavin and Sam over-
confident.  If Harry or anyone similarly inclined was to 
get in close to them they wouldn't be likely to escape a 
wrestling hold.

"The first thing you need to learn about fighting is to 
avoid it."  Not the sort of advice they might have 
expected.

"You didn't," Sam pointed out.

"Sometimes the only way to avoid it in the future is to 
fight today.  Regardless of that there is nothing wrong 
with running away if that's what it takes to be safe."

"And be called a chicken," Gavin protested.

The lesson in "Back to the Future" was still some years 
into the self-same future.

"Better than a dead duck."  Because of me, Gavin had 
received more than his share of beatings.  Could I save 
him that?

"Then if you have to fight, fight smart and fight dirty.  
Use surprise.  Use fists, fingernails and fangs.  There 
is *NO* below the belt rule."

"As Harry knows.  You certainly showed him that he was 
vulnerable there."

"Yeah, well you don't have to punch.  Grab and crush or 
twist or pull.  You might get thumped if you do but if 
you can hang on long enough you'll eventually cause so 
much pain that they'll let up.  Likewise, if it's a girl 
attacking you make sure if you pull her hair to grab 
enough that it won't cut through your skin but not so 
much you can't rip it out of her scalp.  Or you can punch 
her tits or over her ovaries."

"Where's that?"  Sex education was still pretty basic 
with the girls being separated to have a health lecture 
on menstruation with instructions not to discuss it with 
the boys.  We remained ignorant of even that much.  
Anything else required your parents slipping a "family 
life" book where you would pick it up - if you were 
lucky.  Depending on the quality of that you still may 
not discover the necessary information.

"Let's see.  About here and here, on a girl of course."

"Then why didn't you show me on Sam?"

I guess I had a fifty-seven year old's aversion to 
getting with a thirteen or fourteen year old girl.

"It didn't seem right without asking first."

"*YOU* I would have let.  You two don't try to paw me."

"I try to be a gentleman."

"Doesn't stop you farting!"

"But I don't mention it when you fluff too."

"I don't!"

"Oh?  Must have been a toxic waste dump up wind of us 
yesterday then Gavin."

Sam was embarrassed.  "Sorry."

"Why?  For being human and having a human digestive 
system?  Okay, apology accepted for gassing us - but 
that's only what we should do too."

"Yeah.  I guess.  Erm, look, I don't want you to read 
anything into this but I don't have anyone else to ask."

"I promise I'll try to be sensible then."

"You said to grab and twist.  What exactly?"

"His balls."

Sam looked flustered.  "Shit!  Look forget it.  It 
doesn't matter."

I wasn't sure how I'd gotten myself into this situation 
but I took a deep breath.

"Sam - I don't want you to read anything more into this, 
but if you want you can feel me."

Gavin snorted.  It was the sort of activity that got 
whispered about but never actually happened.

"You'd better not say anything Gavin Edwards!"

"He won't," I assured her.  "Gavin has his own secrets."

"I didn't know if Gavin even felt any attraction for 
other boys yet but I didn't doubt he had *SOMETHING* he 
wouldn't want spread around and I could tease him for a 
while before revealing my actual ignorance.

"What secrets?"

"You want Sam to hear them?  Leave it for now.  Where is 
a good spot then?"

"My house I guess," offered Gavin.  "No-one is likely to 
be home."

"Then I can show you some moves in your yard."

"Only Judo moves?"

"Maybe some others but only serious stuff - no fooling 
around."

Did Sam look upset?  What happened to the almost militant 
feminist who was the first at our high school to declare 
her lesbian love?

I touched her arm as Gavin temporarily took the lead.

"Sue," I whispered, "Don't think I'm not interested.  I 
just wanted to reassure you that I *DO* think it's 
important to be a gentleman and if we decide fooling 
around is appropriate it will be with your approval 
beforehand."

"What makes you think I want to fool around?"  She turned 
away from me but her reply had been as soft as my comment 
and she had a Mona Lisa smile when I caught her looking 
at me later.

We didn't have a lot of time just then but in the sixties 
kids weren't subjected to parental paranoia.  Parents 
knew their kids were basically wholesome (it was always 
some other kids who led them astray) and weren't, as a 
general principle, likely to be abducted or murdered.  
Alcohol and tobacco were the only drugs outside hippie 
communes in most people's minds and free sex hadn't 
filtered down to the thirteen year olds yet.

"I'm home," Gavin called out unnecessarily.  Still, it 
was always better to be sure.

"Where do you want to do it?" he asked.

"If we're in the lounge we'll know if anyone comes to the 
house.  No-one can see in the curtains during the day."

Sam was happier with that suggestion.  She wasn't about 
to find herself trapped in Gavin's room with two boys.  
If we *DID* do anything she remained the innocent party 
by being in the public part of the house.  She might 
trust us but we had only been friends a matter of days 
and some doubts still remained.

"Okay then, ready when you are."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Most importantly - be careful!  Guys aren't joking when 
they treat their balls like the family jewels.  They can 
hurt if treated roughly - which *IS* the point I was 
trying to make earlier."

I stood beside Mr Edward's lounge chair where I had a 
clear view of the path.  We were across the room where I 
knew we would be invisible to anyone not actually 
pressing their forehead to the glass.

"Reach up underneath my crotch like you're picking an 
apple off a tree.  Just rest your hand like that, don't 
worry, you're not hurting."

In the sixties where we lived the kids at least knew what 
an apple tree looked like!

"It's moving."

"At the moment that's just one ball nudging the other."

"Yeah - 'at the moment' that might be all."  Gavin 
smirked.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked.

"I'm likely to get an erection, to get hard; a boner."

"What, here?"  Sam jiggled lightly.

It was, depending on how you looked at it, the first time 
a girl had fondled me, a couple of years before the first 
girl had fondled me or forty-five years since the first 
woman had fondled me.  Regardless, I had no choice but to 
react.

"No, here!"  I moved Sam's hand.

"Oh wow.  Can I see?  Please?"

I hadn't really intended matters to go that far.

"Scientific interest only?"

Sam nodded.  "Of course."

"You want me to put my bag in my room?"

"Nah.  You've seen it all before."

"Not with a boner."

"If not mine, your own."

Gavin shrugged.

Four years into my old future I would see him bashed 
because of a similar conversation though reversed.  Now I 
didn't fear the feelings he had had for me and might 
again.  I couldn't return them as Gavin wanted but I 
could remain his friend this time.

Sam watched with interest as I dropped my trousers and 
briefs.  I wasn't big as a thirteen year old (almost 
fourteen!) but I certainly didn't have a little boy's 
willie.  Sam tentatively reached out and touched it with 
her finger tip.

"You *CAN* hold it."

"But doesn't it mean you have to have sex when it gets 
like that?"

"Anyone who tells you that just wants to get into your 
pants.  It's ready for sex but that doesn't make it 
compulsory - and the boy won't suffer from blue balls, an 
ache, if he's left uncomforted.  Before things get that 
bad he will probably have taken care of it himself"

Sam took a firmer grip.

"Okay now that's about as tight as is comfortable but 
you're not going to hurt my prick unless you get violent 
or try to tie it into a pretzel.  There's no bones; it's 
more like a couple of balloons inside.  If you *HAVE* to 
attack some guy's penis, hope it's hard cause you can 
cause him more pain by bending it in half or further - 
pop his balloons and he'll be as crooked as Clinton."

"Who?"

"How do you know all this?"  Gavin wasn't sure if I was 
telling the truth or bull-shitting.  There was no 
internet and public libraries tended to watch which books 
fell into junior hands.

"Medical encyclopaedia my uncle had."

Those resources and National Geographic tended to be a 
teenage boys sole educational reading - until they got 
hold of Playboy or one of the cheaper rags.

"Are you the same Gavin?"

"Mostly.  I've been circumcised though."

"What's that?"

"See this bit of skin?"  I pinched it and then slid it 
down so my knob was visible.  "For various reasons some 
boys have that snipped off soon after they are born."

"What sort of reasons?"

"Hygiene, though that isn't so much a factor; family 
preference, religion, cultural habits."

Sam moved my foreskin back and forth and I didn't point 
out that this actually constituted fooling around since 
she *WASN'T* doing it for titillation purposes.  *I*, of 
course, felt nothing pleasurable as a result of her 
actions.  Honest!

"Can I see yours too please Gavin?"

He blushed.

"It will be alright mate - Sam is gentle."

I imagined it might be the only time Gavin had a female 
hand stroking his cock.

Reluctantly he turned and dropped his clothing before 
facing us and them moving his covering hands down by his 
sides.  I doubt his preferences had anything to do with 
being coy; he was a teenage boy, uncertain of his 
changing body, and having to show it to a possibly 
critical audience.

"Ooh.  It's even bigger.  Oh, sorry Albert."

"That's okay.  Someone has to be biggest and I don't feel 
like I'm suffering.  We are both still growing and our 
pricks will grow with us."

"'Prick' sounds so bad!"  Same reached out and touched 
Gavin as well.  He moaned and Sam looked worried.

I chuckled.  "I think that means he likes it."

"They are soft and hard at the same time.  It's amazing."

"I think a woman's pussy is even nicer.  Soft and sweet 
and juicy."

"Sweet?"

"You haven't tasted yourself?"

"Ew, no!"

"Trust me.  When you've been through your bath or shower 
and are lying in bed, just rub carefully until you are 
damp inside then collect a little of your juices and try 
them."

"That doesn't sound like a Medical Encyclopaedia!"

I winked at her.  "Perhaps a dirty old man told me."

"I'd agree with the dirty but I think I'm glad he was."

Sam stood closer and this time picked an apple with each 
hand.

"Okay, wrap your fingers around our balls and please 
don't check how much force you need."

"No, I mean, I agree with Bert.  Please don't."

"Oh, so I could get you both to promise anything right 
now?"

"You could but a promise under duress isn't valid."

"Like the one you got from Harry you mean?"

"Exactly.  I expect that to last only as long as it takes 
him to find a new excuse to go after us."

"Then we'd better be ready."

"Yeah, well if you'd like to let go..."

"Oh.  Okay.  Did you two...?  I mean, I got to look at 
you.  Do you want...?"

"Sam, I think if you stripped off now we'd probably spend 
all our time learning about everything *BUT* defence.  
How about a rain check - you can offer again when you're 
really comfortable with the idea.  Okay with you Gavin?"

Gavin wasn't about to counter my gentle refusal even 
thought the idea of finding out what a girl had in her 
pants wasn't going to come along every day.

"That sounds good."

"Thank you."  Sam hugged each of us - a more ridiculous 
situation than it sounds since our pricks bobbed as she 
squeezed our torsos.

"Get dressed then show me something else - I might want 
to save his balls until last."

---
Sam learned quickly and though she wanted to pull her 
punches I made both her and Gavin attack me with as much 
force as possible.  I wasn't as quick as I'd once been 
(would eventually be?) and ended up scratched and bruised 
but I dodged most of their efforts or managed to lessen 
the force of their blows.

We returned there or at my house or in a park near 
Samantha's and I taught them how to turn, tuck their hips 
in and lift with their knees as their opponent fell over 
them.  No fancy groundwork though - a kick or punch in 
the back over the kidney and run away.

Just as a warning though I caught their ankles as they 
were sinking the boot in and showed I could master the 
situation once I had *THEM* off balance.

Ears were bitten (more often nibbled on which was a 
little more interesting as well), eyes were gouged, noses 
crushed with the heels of our hands or else invaded by 
paired thumbs - all in practise only.

Even a nipple cripple could be effective and by this time 
Sam was just one of the boys though none of us did more 
than just tweak another's nipple after the idea of using 
the childish torture in a fight was made clear.

Our training was repeated as often as we could manage and 
I improved as well.  I taught them how to fall and roll 
to avoid injury and Gavin actually investigated where he, 
or we, could go for proper tuition.  It was too far until 
we had our own transport so I borrowed some library books 
and tried to be the student-teacher, barely ahead of my 
students in my efforts to recall distantly learned moves.

My parents chatted me about the bruises and scratches and 
I denied fighting as such.  I pointed out we *HAD* been 
being bullied - nothing serious to involve a parental 
response - and promised should it get that way I would 
talk to them.

"We don't want to fight but we will stand up against 
anyone who wants to pick on us and if they do try 
anything again they'll find they aren't facing us alone."

I thought they were going to promise to ground me if they 
caught me fighting at school but my attitude must have 
amazed them.  Not that I'd scrap against a bully if 
necessary but that I could explain myself to them in such 
a way that they felt perhaps I *COULD* take care of 
things.

I said we would stand together against the bullies but it 
probably worked out better that it didn't happen that 
way.

Harry had fallen from his premier position when he had 
attacked Samantha so he saw it as only justice that she 
would be the one to do something that made him mad - when 
Gavin and I were nowhere to be seen.

"You *STUPID* bitch!"

"I'm sorry.  I didn't see it there."

If I was being fair I'd say that the blame lay 20-30% 
with Harry and the rest with Sam's inattentiveness.  
Regardless, the collection of baseball cards now littered 
the ground except where a small puddle of soda was 
starting to glue half a dozen together.

"Didn't see it!  Are you fucking blind!?"

"I said I was sorry."

Harry picked up the wet cards.  "Yeah well I'm sorry 
too."

He tried to dry them by rubbing them over the front of 
Sam's chest.

"Don't!"

"Why?  I'm only drying them off.  It's not as though 
there's anything under your sweater.  These look damaged 
anyway so perhaps I should just see if you have any money 
to pay for them."

"Leave my bag alone!"

Harry pulled the bag away from Sam and roughly shoved her 
aside.  She rolled, not expertly but effectively, and 
turned back to see him fumbling at the zip.

His back was towards her and she steeled herself.  Her 
foot would be sore afterwards but Harry would have even 
more problems.

A professional footballer setting up a place kick would 
have been proud of her.  She slammed the bridge of her 
foot into Harry's coccyx while the toes tried to launch 
his balls into space.  Gavin and I, with the rest of the 
school, heard his scream.

Sam picked up her bag and considered the writhing, 
sobbing boy on the ground.  She moved behind him and 
leaned over by his ear to make sure he could hear her 
over his own crying.

"If you ever touch me, or my things, again I'm going to 
grab what is left of your balls and force one of them up 
your ass while you eat the other.  *DO YOU UNDERSTAND?*"

She didn't even wait for him to answer either way.  
Straightening she kicked him viciously in the kidney from 
behind, then she went and reported herself - and the 
extenuating circumstances - to the Girls' Deputy 
Principal.

Gavin and I heard the news as it spread rapidly through 
the school and went to wait outside the offices.  If 
necessary we would vouch for the fact that Harry had 
attacked Sam previously but since we didn't know what 
case she was putting herself we kept our mouths shut 
until needed.

It turned out Harry's behaviour wasn't totally unknown 
but the school had either little evidence to show he'd 
done anything serious or perhaps little inclination to 
follow up when the removal of one bully would only leave 
a vacuum for the next to fill.

Comparing his size to Samantha's the Deputy Principal 
couldn't see her as the aggressor - especially in the 
absence of any previous reports of bad behaviour on her 
part.  A round up of a sample of witnesses to the 
incident backed up Sam's version of the events and, other 
than the matter of the final blow, there was no reason to 
suggest she'd acted in other than self-defence.

"Never-the-less dear, this boy is currently with the 
school nurse and his parents have been called to collect 
him.  I cannot condone fighting in the school and will 
have to let your own parents know.  In view of the 
circumstances I don't believe there is a need for 
disciplinary action against you and I suspect you have 
disciplined Harold sufficiently.  Do you have a problem 
if I let it go at that?"

"None Mrs Forrester."

"I will try to explain things to Mr and Mrs Powell when 
they get here then.  They may wish to take matters 
further but I will do what I can to discourage them.  
You've missed lunch.  If you need a few minutes I'll give 
you a note for your next class, otherwise you should be 
able to get there by the bell."

"That's okay, I can eat it later.  Thank you."

"Privately, thank you for showing the boys that they 
can't just walk over us girls like they want but please 
try not to injure any more."

"That would make me quite happy."

Sam saw us and gave us both a hug.  Boys and girls could 
still do that at school without undue censure provided 
they weren't ridiculous about it.

She got the odd cheer as we headed to class but most 
people just stared.

One comment was repeated over and over though.

"*SHE* took out *HIM*!?"

Apart from what rated as a standing ovation from a large 
part of our class - until the teacher turned up - the 
biggest surprise were the girls who turned up over the 
next few days with an oft repeated question.

"Samantha said you taught her to defend herself.  Do you 
think you could teach me too?"

---

"Mom, is it okay if I have Gavin and Sam over on Saturday 
with a few people?"

"I guess so.  Anything special?"

"They want me to show them a few things."

Mom didn't ask what exactly.  It could have been comics 
or models or games.  I didn't have a lot of people 
around; Gavin mainly, though Sam more and more in recent 
weeks.  Though I think she might have caught on that Sam 
wasn't a boy, she hadn't teased me about having a girl 
friend or a girlfriend.  I wondered if that would change 
on Saturday.

I conned Gavin, Sam and Colin to help me go fossicking 
after school.  They were actually to be my pack mules on 
a rather unusual shopping expedition.

Recycled clothing stores hadn't blossomed like they would 
later but they existed.  We had to catch a bus part-way 
across town and once there I carefully considered the 
garments for suitability.  A couple of sports jackets; a 
couple more suit coats, lacking pants.

In the ladies wear I found some solid outfits although I 
had to buy the skirts as well.  I was going to leave them 
but then I had a thought of a use and bundled them into 
the hessian bags we'd brought with us.  I used up my 
pocket money for the last month and dipped into my 
savings for what I acknowledged were "theatrical 
costumes".  It would have been too much trouble to have 
explained - my companions thought it funny enough.

I had been rather frugal with my money even before my 
older self had invaded my body and now I was here I could 
see better uses for the money than what a fourteen year 
old might consider important.  Not always though - a 
newly released toy could be a valuable investment if kept 
in pristine condition.

At home I thanked my friends and told them I'd see them 
bright and early at school in the morning.

"Mom.  Is it okay if I use your sewing machine please?"

"I'm just busy for a second so if you wait I will set it 
up for you."

I didn't really need her help.  Though sewing wasn't 
considered a manly art as such, many of the women in my 
mother's dressmaking circle felt their offspring - male 
or female - could only benefit by being able to sew on a 
button or stitch up a tear or shift a hem.  By the time I 
was sixteen I knew my way around her sewing machine and, 
though at fourteen I was still more used to watching her, 
I still remembered the lessons of the next years.

Roughly cutting each of the skirts on a slight spiral, I 
had ended up with a number of long strips about three 
inches wide.  

I had these ready when Mom came in thinking I had an 
embroidered patch or similar to be sewn onto a shirt or 
pair of jeans.

"What on earth are you doing?"

"I needed some belts and this looks suitable.  I just 
need to stitch along the edge and then turn them right-
side around.  I've put the heavier needle in and threaded 
the bobbin.  I shouldn't be long."

My mother watched me lower the foot and turn the wheel at 
the side to start the needle moving as I pressed down on 
the foot-control.

I guided the cloth under the foot, keeping the fold at an 
even distance from the needle and backing up the belt a 
little at the end to keep the stitching from parting as 
the material was stressed.

"Okay, that's one!"

"Albert, have you been using my machine without asking?"

"No Mom."  Not recently, that was for sure.

"Well you did a good job there."  Still, she was 
reluctant to leave me entirely to my own resources.

I didn't complain at the oversight as I divided the belt 
up into thirds and then halves, trying to work out what 
length would be best.  It had been a while since I had 
tied one around my waist.

Eventually I finished, turning the machine off as she 
liked it and cleaning up all the scraps of thread and 
cloth.

"I wish you kept your room as tidy.  Next time you take a 
knee or the seat out of your pants I think you can fix 
them yourself.  What on earth do you need those belts for 
though?"

"Judogis"

"Who-what-sies?"

"Judo-gi.  It's a costume worn when performing judo.  
Normally something like canvas to stop it tearing.  I 
couldn't get anything really suitable but I didn't want 
people getting their clothes ripped so I'm making do.  
The belts keep their tops closed."

"You realise that made no sense to me at all."

"If you wait until Saturday it might be clearer.  Excuse 
me but I have a few buttons and buckles to removed as 
well."

---

The door bell kept ringing every few minutes for an hour 
- although there was a gap of about fifteen minutes after 
Gavin and Sam turned up.

"Dear, there are two more walking up the path."

"I see them."

Dad opened the door - pointed to the patio and said "the 
dojo's out the back."

"Thank you Mr Lamont."

He heard, "Sorry we're late.  We had to wait for my 
brother to drive us" and "Let's get started then."

"Looks like that's it then," he told Mom.  "I count five 
boys and thirteen girls - plus Bert."

"Something for school perhaps?"

"Beats me.  I'm going to keep an eye on them though.  I 
still don't know what he meant by dojo - it's not in the 
Webster's."

---

"Okay.  Thank you for coming.  I hope I prove to be the 
sort of teacher you want.  I have some old clothes that 
will be safer - they won't rip but if any of you have 
worn tops that you don't want to risk I can lend you an 
old knit shirt or pullover of mine."

"I'd better change.  I brought an older one but didn't 
put it on."

"I'll need to borrow one if I can."

"Sam, can you show them where my bedroom is and give 
Frances a shirt."

A couple of the other girls looked at Sam as they 
realised she had knowledge of my bedroom.  They might not 
be bitchy yet but they had certainly developed some of 
the social awareness that could eventually be turned 
against Samantha if her future was going to be anything 
like the last time we had lived it.

While they were gone I matched up the second hand clothes 
against the people to get the best fits.

"I need to apologise on two counts.  Firstly for either 
the musty smell or the dry cleaning smell of the clothes; 
I'm not sure which is worse but it should fade or else we 
will get used to it.  Secondly, Judo is normally 
performed with foam matting that softens the landing when 
you are thrown.  We have to make do with the lawn today 
but we'll be going through mainly preliminary work so 
although you will finish knowing something useful you 
shouldn't have too many bruises."

"That's good.  I have ballet class tomorrow and I don't 
want to have to explain that I was fighting.

"Well you won't be - it's sparring if you don't intend 
doing any damage.  Hopefully you can avoid ever needing 
to fight.  I will be covering how to fight dirty if you 
need to know that as well though that's not part of Judo.  
First though we need to stretch our muscles so can we 
have three lines of six with people marking off right 
hand on the next person's shoulder.  Thanks."

I saw Dad beckoning Mom to the kitchen window and waved 
to them.  We would have looked odd to the uninitiated in 
actual gis but in an assortment of suit coats... well!"

I had them all perform about five minutes of stretches, 
explaining each muscle group that we were working on and 
how that would be important to our training.  My personal 
gym trainer would have been pleased I'd paid attention 
over the years.

I saw my mother pass an encyclopaedia to Dad and he 
checked me off with growing amazement.  Then he came out 
to the patio and sat down to listen more closely.

"Judo is a martial art.  It is a sport derived from 
fighting but unlike something like boxing you don't 
actually intend to hurt your opponent - (I paused) in 
competition."

There was a cheerful, "Yea Sam!"

"Judo is not a sport of strength, it is a sport of 
science and balance.  Aristotle said if you could give 
him a lever long enough he could move the Earth.  Your 
body, and your opponent's body, are the levers you will 
use and with them you can move your opponent.  I'd like 
to give you a little demonstration; perhaps my father 
wouldn't mind helping out?"

Unfair of me I know but I was eager for someone to know 
what had happened to me and he might just be inclined to 
believe after this.

"Can you put this on please Dad?"

I gave him one of the larger suit coats, retrieving it 
from where Colin had laid it out ready for later.  I 
donned the one I'd chosen for myself.

"How's your back?"

"My back?  Fine, why?"

Oh, that came later then.  I hope I didn't have anything 
to do with it.

"Just checking.  I'd like to just show how I can use your 
mass against you even though I'm only about half your 
weight."

He understood weight, mass was a less familiar term.  I 
wasn't talking like his son.

"Okay."

"Don't worry.  I won't hurt you."

"That's good to know."

He looked at our audience.  They were smiling but seemed 
to be considering a different joke.

I bowed, and remained bent over, my head just tilted up 
enough so I could watch my father.

"Da-a-d!"

"Oh sorry.  You should have said."

He bowed and we both straightened.  I moved in slowly and 
took hold of his right sleeve and left lapel.  After a 
second he copied me.

"Ready?"

"Ye...(thud)...s"

I'd dropped my hand from his lapel to his waist, slipping 
my hand around behind him as I turned.  At the same time 
I stepped between his feet and bent my knees.  Pulling 
down on his arm and up on his belt I started him rolling 
forward as Harold had done and then, as he passed over my 
back I straightened my legs to add some circular momentum 
to the mix.  That movement lofted his legs in an arc but 
I held onto his arm and, by pulling back on his belt 
where I would normally have let go, I stopped him from 
slamming into the ground with other than his feet.

Carefully as I could, I eased him to a sitting position.  
It wasn't just a matter of not hurting him, he did weigh 
more than me and I could just as easily hurt *MY* back.

"Oh my god, are you okay?"

My mother came running our as the group cheered.  If I 
could teach them those sorts of moves then I would make 
each and every one of them happy.  Happy enough to put up 
with the need to warm up and practise simple repetitive 
moves until they became second nature?  Well, I would 
see.

"I'm okay.  That was amazing but where did you learn 
that?"

"I'll tell you later if that's okay - I've got a few 
people waiting to find out how to do it themselves."

"Sure, but not too much later."

Dad was always a fair man.  It was nice to have him 
around.

"You up for another demonstration?"

"I guess.  What are you going to do to me this time?"

I smiled.  "Nothing."

Beckoning Sam, I said a couple of words in her ear.  She 
smiled too and took up her position in front of my 
father.  This time he bowed appropriately and I took hold 
of my mother's hand as she watched nervously.  She wanted 
some answers as well.

Sam had to reach up a little further.  Though I only had 
maybe five centimetres over he my arms were a little 
longer.  It made her look impossibly small against him.

"You're not going to put *YOUR* back out I hope?"

"Nope."

Sam tugged his lapel and the bout was on.  They really 
had no mat discipline but I guess that was okay - we had 
no mats!

Sam feinted, beginning to turn into the same throw I had 
performed but, instead of bending and pushing her hip 
into his crotch, she stepped around his right leg with 
her own and pushed up on Dad's lapel instead of pulling 
down.

This time he was resisting the tug that didn't come and 
actually helped her force him backwards.  She pulled his 
arm around so he was twisted and he fell back over her 
leg - unable to step backwards because of that flimsy 
obstruction.

She kept hold of his arm on the way down allowing control 
over her next attack while he was constrained but instead 
of an arm lock or a choke hold she raised her knee and 
leapt up so that foot came crashing down over his crotch.

Mom grabbed my hand painfully and yelled "No!" but Sam's 
ad lib was simply for show.  She kept her other leg 
straight and that knee bent and had essentially only 
hopped on the spot.  Dad really wasn't in any danger and 
I hoped he was aware that Sam never intended any harm.

He quickly removed the jacket though after she helped him 
up and they bowed again.

I took up my position in front of my now motivated 
students.

"Thank you Dad and thank you Sam for both an excellently 
executed throw and a demonstration why picking on young 
ladies is not advisable."

There was more general applause and I was glad Dad joined 
in.  He headed inside for a drink though and stayed in 
his chair when he returned with a beer.  Mom didn't want 
to see anyone else apparently in danger and stayed inside 
for the rest of the class.

"Action, reaction, inertia, mass, force.  We don't learn 
about those in Science for a year or two but you know 
about them anyway.  What happens when you shoot a rifle 
or, better, a shotgun?"

One of the guys answered.  "It kicks back."

"Right.  The bullet goes one way the gun goes the other - 
back into your shoulder.  How hard is it to pull a 
wagon?"

"Not hard."  There was general agreement.

"But if you fill it with bricks - or a couple of little 
brothers?"

"Very hard."

"And if you do get it up to speed how easy is it to stop 
when it is full?

"Almost impossible."

"Those are all examples of inertia.  When something is 
still it is going to stay there unless you push on it but 
if you get it moving you have to push just as hard to 
slow it down.  The quicker you want it to speed up or 
slow down the harder it is again.

"I'm not saying my Dad is heavy but once Sam or I got him 
moving he had to work hard to stop and it wasn't just us 
making him move.  Can anyone think what else was 
involved?"

There was silence as people thought.  Classes have an 
inertia as well.  I took off my belt and held it up.  
They all watched as I dropped it.

"Gravity!"

"Good Colin.  Can you come out here; Gavin, you too 
please.  Stand behind Colin and be ready to catch him.  
Colin, I want you to keep your feet together.  Gavin will 
catch you."

I turned to the others.  "What happens when I push Colin 
back?"

"He'll eventually fall over."

I did and he did.  Gavin did his job and Colin stood up 
again.

"This time Colin you can move one foot."

I pushed and Colin immediately stepped back so that 
although he was at an angle he didn't fall.

"Good.  Just stand up for a minute please."

I took my belt and used it to measure Colin, estimating 
the half way mark.

"Assuming Colin isn't particularly thick-skulled and that 
he doesn't have a lard butt we can guess that he has 
about half his weight above this line and half below.  
Would you say that was right?"  As I spoke I tied the 
belt around him at that level.

"A bit lower.  His head isn't as wide as his shoulders 
and there is more air up top."

"So now I'm an air head?"

"Okay, a little lower.  Somewhere around there is a spot 
called his Centre of Gravity.  Because his left side is 
much the same as his right it is going to be in the 
middle here and with his front and back much the same it 
is going to be about halfway through him.

"Looking lower we see that Colin is standing on two feet.  
If we were to lay a rope around both feet we would end up 
with a rough square shape.  This is his base of support 
and if he can keep his centre of gravity over that he 
won't fall over but once it moves past the edge of that 
base, over he goes.  The first demonstration again 
please."

I pushed Colin back but got Gavin to hold him at the 
position where he lost it.  I dangled another belt from 
his side so they could see were it lined up with his 
feet.

"The first time I only had to push him a little way and 
over he went but the second time..."  We repeated the 
demonstration and now Colin had a foot in front of the 
dangling belt and one clearly behind.

"...suddenly the centre of gravity is over the base and 
he is safe again - for now.  Can you all see where this 
is heading?"

There were some yeses and a couple of honest nos.

"Sam, would you demonstrate the throw you did in slow 
motion.  Gavin be ready."

"Firstly she makes Colin lean back like I did but she 
stops him moving his foot back.  In fact - and I'll get 
you to do it again at the proper speed please - see how 
she swept her leg into his?  It carried his leg further 
forward and off the ground while his body went back 
making it even more likely that gravity would win.

"So what we are trying to achieve is to apply the forces 
we can generate with our bodies in such a way as to make 
our opponents over-balance and then take advantage of 
gravity to bring them to the ground.  Dad, can I use you 
for just one more demonstration?  No throwing this time."

He joined Colin and I wrapped my plumb-bob belt around 
him at the equivalent height to Colin's.

"Is that about half way?"

"Yes."

"And what do you notice?"

"It's higher."

"It is at the same point on my father's body as it is on 
Colin's yet because he is taller his centre of gravity is 
further off the ground and as such he doesn't have to tip 
back so far to have it outside his base of support even 
though his feet are bigger.  I like to think of this as a 
simple example of the bigger they are, the harder they 
fall.  Thank you, and you Colin - you can take off the 
belt."

---

Mom prepared refreshments while we were busy and the 
class finished in time for them to get home for lunch.  
They had paired off and Gavin and Sam had been willing 
assistants in getting them to practise pushing and 
pulling and moving their legs in response to better 
understand how the placement of their feet improved or 
weakened their stance and how to take advantage of the 
same thing in their opponents.  I finished up with some 
practical thoughts.

"Just remember, if you get down on the ground with your 
opponent without knowing any holds then you're wrestling 
with them and a heavier wrestler is going to out-perform 
an equally skilled lightweight or an unskilled person of 
almost any weight.  So if you do have to use a throw or 
trip it is so you can *ESCAPE* from them.  You aren't 
trying to hurt someone - you are trying to avoid getting 
hurt yourself.  Fighting back is a whole different 
ballgame and not something you are going to pick up in 
one lesson."

"But you'll teach us that too?"

"I'll do what I can to see you can defend yourselves.  
Yes."

---

Dad insisted on discussing that point but there were 
other explanations both of them wanted first.  Though I 
wanted to share my story I wasn't sure if the truth would 
be best.  I wasn't sure I could come up with anything 
else though that would be even less unbelievable.

"I learned Judo while I was in college in 1975 to '77.  
Something happened to me and I'm back here living my life 
over for whatever purpose there might be."

"That is a bit far-fetched.  You haven't been getting any 
of those science fiction stories from one of your 
friends?"

"No sorry, I did get a couple of Judo books from the 
library but that's it - pretty good performance for book 
learnin' wasn't it?"

"Unless you've been studying far harder than I suspected  
- especially about medical matters - I'm inclined to 
believe you might just be telling the truth.  If so, 
what?  You're actually 21?"

"Plus a few years."

"How many?"

"Let's just say enough for now."

Mom leaned forwards.  "If you have been reliving your 
life why haven't you said anything before this?"

"I haven't been here most of the time.  I come and go.  
This is the third time I've called in and I don't seem to 
stay long."

"When were the other times?  Did you do anything we'd 
have noticed?"

They wanted something that would prove my story - or 
prove I was lying.

"The first time was just after I was born.  Nan and Pop 
turned up in the hospital and you changed and fed me.  I 
gave Pop two fingers 'cause I couldn't make him 
understand me."

"I don't remember."

"He didn't say anything; just laughed.  The second time 
was when I woke up in the hospital when I was seven.  You 
found me reading the paper while I tried to find out when 
I was.  And now there is now and I've already been here 
longer than I stayed the other times.  If I do go I don't 
know how long I'll be away or even if I will return so 
pay attention.  Start buying shares in microcomputer 
companies in the mid seventies.  A company called Apple - 
get in early and have faith.  Write this down even if you 
don't believe me!  IBM; a bit later is still okay, 1980 
at the latest.  A company called Microsoft - remember 
Bill Gates.  You should have made plenty by 1990 though 
Microsoft keeps going.  There is a thing called the 
internet and what is called the dot com boom.  Don't get 
burnt!  Stocks in those companies go crazy but except for 
some the bottom drops out very quickly.

"Get into the communications market soon - people are 
going to be sticking two way radios in their trucks and 
cars - something called CB.  Later, maybe 1990, look for 
companies that make personal phones - they will work like 
the CBs and start off being the size of a house brick but 
within a few years nearly everyone, adult and kid, will 
have one.  A Scandinavian company does well Eriksson or 
something as do some Japanese - look to Japanese to 
conquer the small electronics market to a large degree."

"None of this makes sense."

"I don't remember Super Bowl or Kentucky Derby winners 
but trust me about these - oh, and don't fly or go to New 
York or Washington in September 2001.  I can't really say 
more because I don't know what effect it might have.  I'm 
hoping I can slip a little good fortune for you without 
breaking the universe."

"2001!?  That's thirty years away!"

"I don't know if I'll have a chance to remind you closer 
to the date."

I felt a little sad that Mom wouldn't reach that date and 
risked warping space-time once more.  I put my hand over 
hers.

"And you!  Learn to check for changes in your breast - 
your right one! - and don't put things off.  No-one is 
going to consider you less of a woman with only one 
breast and if you get treated early that needn't happen - 
understand!?"

She looked stunned.  I think that was the moment she 
really believed.

"When?"

"When do you die?  If you take my advice I won't know.  
Cancer *IS* just a word - not a sentence.  Listen, I 
guess I didn't say it as often as I should have but I 
love you both and was and am grateful for all the things 
you did for me."

It got schmalzier.

---

My relationship with my parents stabilised somewhere 
between treating me as a teenager and as an adult 
relation with a continuing dash of disbelief and an 
occasional bout of horror thrown in.  I remembered more 
tips, closer to the present as well as things like VHS vs 
Beta and the demise of 8-track and quadraphonic systems.  
I tried to convey the idea of future things like Play 
Station/Nintendo rivalry; in-line skates and skateboards; 
HIV-AIDS, crack cocaine, Ecstasy and crystal meths.

The future wouldn't be rosy in every sense but that 
wasn't the sole reason they couldn't always look on me 
without a shiver.  I was a recurrent challenge to all 
their beliefs.  I think I had it easier since I had been 
fairly agnostic anyway.

---

I couldn't avoid going to school and didn't enjoy some 
subjects any more the second time round.  I was chatted 
about those grades and countered that I was putting more 
effort into getting better grades in the subjects that 
counted.  That wasn't all that different than the 
discussions I had had with them the first time around.

What was different was the shift in my circle of friends.

I guess associating with Sam had made me less cool in the 
eyes of some of the guys I had hung with on round one.  
None of those original friendships had lasted past high 
school so I didn't feel particularly put out that they 
distanced themselves from me.  I got just as much 
enjoyment from Sam's company.

And in a time where girls our age looked more at high 
school for male partners, I had a group of twelve other 
girls who saw me as mature enough to associate with - if 
only they knew.

Colin and the other three guys who had joined Gavin and 
myself in my "Dojo" also shared in the status granted us 
and when we graduated junior high and headed off to high 
school there was some competition for our attention that 
would normally have gone to the Sophomores or Juniors.  
Part of that might have been that we were respectful 
(more so than our peers and some of the older boys) while 
still managing to have fun together.  The girls 
roughhoused with us, getting tits bumped, nudging our 
privates and rolling on the ground under or over us.  
There were hugs occasionally and one or two kisses but on 
the mat all was business-like and they never had cause to 
fear being groped.

*THAT* wasn't something they could take for granted 
around our new school - at least at first.  The boys were 
soon behaving a little more appropriately when a grabbed 
tit resulted in a far more painfully grabbed crotch and 
an attempt at retaliation (a slap across the face) was 
blocked with a swept arm while the girl drove her palm 
into his nose, breaking it and leaving him covered in 
blood.

Like Same before her, Gail reported herself rather than 
have someone come looking.  The results were similar 
except for one thing - Sam had hugged Gavin and myself 
for waiting around for her; Gail sought me out and risked 
censure by planting a sloppy kiss on me as a reward for 
teaching her.

I had avoided kissing my "students" since, although I 
related to them more naturally as my teenage persona 
gained back influence, I still felt *I* was too old.  
Gail stirred me never-the-less.

The girls got together and Gail explained what a rush it 
have been to put her knowledge into practice.

"I was, like, on automatic.  I saw him raise his arm and 
I did what Albert said and guided it over my head rather 
than opposing it and then *WHAM*!  I heard the crunch.  
He fell back into the lockers and just slid to the floor.  
I watched as his front just covered in blood.  I thought 
I'd killed him because he didn't lift his hands to his 
face or anything but then he looked at me and he was 
*SCARED*!"

"That must have felt so good."

"Something else did too.  Albert doesn't only know how to 
fight.  When I kissed him he kissed back.  Wow!"

I didn't overhear this myself but Sam did and it affected 
her.  We'd been friends for months.  I'd been invited to 
her house for her 14th birthday - when everyone else had 
been family.  I was probably the closest person to her 
and yet *I* had never tried to kiss *HER*.  The fact that 
she hadn't done more than brush her lips against my cheek 
didn't factor in her logic but this all came out when I 
queried her changed mood.

She didn't want to tell me at first but if I didn't 
necessarily understand women any better I knew how to get 
them to open up and *WAS* better able to guess the sorts 
of things that would cause problems.

"Samantha.  You are both my friend and an attractive 
girl.  It's not easy at times to concentrate on one and 
ignore the other so I don't do something to stuff things 
up between us.  I guess that in itself stuffed us up a 
it, hey?"

"A bit."

"I guess I also worry that our parents might decide to 
come between us if they thought we were getting too 
close."

"You could still kiss me.  As often as you wanted 
really."

"I'd like that but I don't think we should consider we 
are going steady yet - we're both too young."

"So you want to be able to kiss other girls too?"

"I want a chance to meet other girls and not feel *TOO* 
guilty if they expect a kiss too.  I want you to feel 
you've had a chance to compare rather than just settling 
for me, if that was what ended up happening.  I 
definitely don't want you having a baby for your 
fifteenth birthday!"

"I only wanted a kiss damn it!"

I took her in my arms and started out slowly then brought 
the heat up as Sam responded.  Eventually I think she 
would have stripped off then and there if I'd suggested 
it - even though we were still at school.

"We'd better get back to the others before a teacher 
catches us."

"Or before I decide a baby isn't a bad birthday present.  
Hell Bert, where did you learn to do that!?  Not your 
uncle again I hope."

I laughed and we headed back where we wouldn't get into 
trouble - of any sort.

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