Zapped! -12.1- Thanks for the ride, guys!

Printer-friendly version

jenzapdsm.jpg

Zapped! Chapter 12.1 - "Thanks for the ride, guys!"

 
 

Zapped! Chapter 12 - "Thanks for the ride, guys!"
By Bob Arnold — Copyright 2003 by Robert Arnold — All Rights Reserved

This is a work of fiction, with a few real life experiences added in. All of the characters in this story are fictional, and any resemblance to anyone else living or dead is probably a coincidence. Please notify me if you are archiving this and the other chapters of the story on a web site. Permission specifically granted to Sapphire's Place and Crystal's Story Site to archive this. If you intend to publish this story in magazine or book (paper or electronic) format, please contact me for arrangements. Additional information on this story may be found at: http://www.ralabs.com/zapped/ .

This chapter is in memory of my friend Rebecca Anne Stewart. She passed away from cancer in early May 2003. She will be greatly missed.

Thanks to my "beta readers" for keeping me on track and to Amelia R. for help with editing this chapter.

Zapped! Chapter 12 - "Thanks for the ride, guys!"
By Bob Arnold — Copyright 2003 by Robert Arnold — All Rights Reserved

From the Diary of Jennifer Stevens…

Monday, January 6, 2003

As I lay very still in my bed I was trying to decide which was worse, the pounding in my head or the pounding on my bedroom door.

"Jennifer, are you OK in there? It's almost ten AM!"

I recognized Barb's voice through my hangover-induced mental haze. I tossed the covers aside and started to get up to answer the door until I discovered that I was completely naked. I pulled the covers over myself again, groaning a little as the world started to spin.

"Come in, Barb." I winced at the sound of my own voice booming in my ears.

The door slowly opened as Barb peered around it. "You decent in here?"

"Close enough. Did anyone get the number of the wine bottle that hit me?" I groaned again as I tried to lift my aching head.

"Yup, they were right." Barb sat on the edge of my bed. I winced visibly as the jolt made the room spin. "Good thing Adam called Tammy last night and she called me."

"Umm…Barb, did anyone say how I got naked?"

"Something was mentioned about Adam putting you to bed last night. Seems he planned to spend the night with you but you were so far out of it he decided to just put you in bed and leave. He was NOT happy, Jennifer."

"I really screwed up didn't I? A night alone with Adam for the first time in almost TWO MONTHS and I messed it all up! I never drank that much before last night, Barb. Who would have thought just a few glasses of wine could do this to me! My old body couldn't handle it with all the health problems I had. Apparently this new one can't either. I'm never gonna do THAT again." I buried my aching head under the pillow and closed my eyes tightly. Even the light hurt this morning. The fact that I hadn't spent a pleasurable evening with Adam made me feel even worse.

"A few glasses, Jen? According to Adam it was close to the whole bottle. I can see you wanting to 'let your hair down' a bit last night and relax but that's NOT the way to do it!"

"I know, Barb, and I'm paying for last night right now."

"Well, I can fix you a little something that should get you going again. Right now, you need to get yourself in the tub for a good soak. That will help. I'll be in later with something to help that hangover and some breakfast."

"Thanks, Barb. If anyone calls tell them I'll be available this afternoon after lunch."

"MouseWorld called. I told them you'd call back around one-thirty this afternoon."

I pulled my head out from under the pillow and looked up at her. "Thanks again, Barb. I think you're right. A good soak in a tub full of hot water will do me a world of good. Just knock before you come in, OK?"

"You got it." The bed shifted as she got up sending the world spinning again. She looked back at me and smiled. "Do you know you've got bloodshot eyes? They look terrible."

"You think they look bad to you? You should see 'em from in here!" I rested my aching head back on the pillow. " I'll be OK, Barb. Let me get to the bathroom. I gotta go so bad…" Barb simply nodded and giggled as she left the bedroom.

I tossed the blankets aside and let the colder room air wash over my body. The shock managed to clear some of the fuzz from my head. After about two minutes I sat up on the edge of the bed close to the makeup table. The world wasn't spinning so I stood up. Big mistake! Now the world was starting to spin so I grabbed onto the back of the chair in front of the makeup table. I, and the world, stopped spinning so I stood there for a few seconds getting used to being vertical again. I started a slow shuffle to the bathroom since the urgent message from down below said I had better get moving.

Opening the door to the bathroom was easy but somehow I missed grabbing the doorjamb to keep myself vertical. That sent me sprawling on the cold tile of the bathroom floor. I lay still for a moment checking my various body parts for any signs of damage. When nothing serious turned up I hauled myself up by leaning on the edge of the tub. I sat on the edge of the tub catching my breath and balance as the water splashed noisily into the tub. To my poor aching head it sounded like Niagara Falls thundering just a few feet away. While the tub was filling I used the toilet being sure to hang onto something as I sat down. The relief felt wonderful. I stayed on the toilet until the tub was ready then eased carefully into the inviting water.

Twenty minutes later most of the aches and pains were gone and my head had cleared considerably. If only my stomach would stop making little flips every few minutes I thought that I might be able to make it through the day. The water was getting cold so I pulled the stopper and let it drain away. As I stood up this time I found that I was much more stable and didn't need to hang onto something any more. I wrapped a towel around my wet hair and another around my middle then walked back to the bed. I was using the towel to dry my hair when I heard a knock on the bedroom door.

"Are you decent, Jen?"

"Sure, Barb, come in."

Barb slowly opened the door again and peered around. "Oh, you're not dressed yet. I'll come back."

"It's OK, Barb. Come on in anyway."

"OK." The door opened wide as Barb stepped into the room carrying a small tray with a glass and a plate with toast on it. "I made my grandpa's hangover cure for you."

She handed me a glass of red liquid that I accepted using both of my slightly shaking hands. I sniffed at it but all I could smell was tomato juice. "So what's in this stuff anyway?" I sipped at the dark red liquid and found a salty and rather bitter taste.

"If I told you, you probably wouldn't drink it, Jen. Bottoms up and drink the entire glass of the stuff, OK?"

I waggled my finger at Barb. "If I start growing hair on my chest I'm holdin' YOU responsible." I raised the glass to my lips, took a big breath of air and held it as I chugged the contents of the glass. As I raised my arms up high to get the last few drops of the liquid the towel slipped revealing my breasts.

"Well, one thing is for certain, Jen, there's no hair on those now." Barb was giggling as I pulled the towel back into place.

"OK, so you've seen 'em, big deal."

"Nice pair ya got there, hon. I wish mine looked that good. Now will you start in on the toast while you're getting dressed? If you can keep that down I'll fix you lunch later."

"OK, Mom…" I put the glass back on the tray and started nibbling on a piece of the very lightly buttered toast. I had just swallowed the first mouthful when a huge belch forced its way out. "EWWWWWWWW! That tasted like old used, unwashed gym socks smell. What was in that stuff anyway?"

"Like I said, you DON'T want to know. Just finish your toast and expect a few more of those god-awful noises. You can have some water if you need it but NOTHING ELSE for at least an hour or so. You'll be sorry if you do eat anything else before then!"

I belched again. "I'll take your word as law on that. Now let me suffer in peace, OK?"

"OK, Jen." Barb slid out the door and closed it behind her. I decided to lie back down for a few minutes while I finished the toast.

By the time the last of the toast had disappeared, I was feeling much better. Although I wasn't quite up to speed for a normal day I felt good enough to get dressed and catch up with Barb in the office. I rummaged in my closet for a pair of shorts and a sweatshirt then grabbed a bra and panties from the dresser. As soon as I was dressed I brushed my hair to get the tangles out then decided not to put it in a ponytail today. I really wasn't planning on going out so I shouldn't have to fix myself up too much.

I made my way down the hallway to the office then plunked down in the chair next to Barb's desk.

"You look much better, Jen. Feeling better too?"

I nodded. "Yup. A bit better anyway. Is that the stack of messages from this morning?" I pointed to a pile of message forms nearly a half-inch high.

She nodded. "Those are just the media that want to talk to you about the play. Oh, be careful if you use the bathroom in here. I had to start putting the flowers in there too."

"Flowers?" Barb pointed to the overflowing counter on the other side of the file cabinet that blocked my view. I leaned forward in the chair to look around the offending cabinet. "All these are for me?"

"You should see the ones in the bathroom…"

I wandered into the bathroom off the office to be overwhelmed by the scent of the flowers in there. They were everywhere in almost any color you could get a flower in, big bouquets, little ones and even a few potted plants for good measure. Each one had a card attached. I browsed through the cards reading each one. There were bouquets from the TV station, the radio station, another huge one from MouseWorld and many more from friends and cast members.

"Well what do you think, Jen?" Barb had walked into the bathroom behind me.

"I don't know what to think, Barb."

"Looks to me like all these people really appreciated your effort this past weekend doesn't it?" I nodded in silent agreement. "So what are you going to do with them?"

"I can't keep all of them, I just don't have the room! How about we give them to the local hospitals for their patients? That should brighten up a few faces!"

"I'll make a few calls. Do you want me to save all the cards?"

"Yes, please, and do you think we could send a short thank-you note to each one if we have an address?"

"Sure, I can do that, Jen. Now why don't you take that stack of media requests and go make some calls of your own? I bet you could take care of a lot of it over the phone."

"Sounds good to me as long as they don't speak in words of 2 or more syllables. I'm not certain if my poor brain can handle more than that right now." I picked one of the bouquets of flowers to keep and started back to my office.

"Don't worry about that. The stuff you drank will fetch you around pretty quickly."

"If you say so, Barb. I know I wouldn't feel as good as I do now if it wasn't for you taking care of me. Thanks for being a good friend!" I tossed my arms around her and hugged her as tightly as I could. She very willingly returned the hug then gently pushed me toward my office after handing me the stack of call slips.

About an hour later I had worked through most of the pile. Most simply wanted a quick interview and a chat over the phone about what it was like was sufficient for most of the reporters. The radio folks wanted that prized sound bite of course. The TV folks were a bit more demanding and wanted to come interview me with a camera crew. After getting their promise to keep my home address a secret I arranged for all of the major stations in the market to visit me in the afternoon. All of the interviews would be done in my living room and completed in time to let them edit the story for the evening newscasts.

Ever so slowly the aroma of baking chicken built up in the office as I worked. My tummy started to growl a few moments after I hung up the phone from my last TV station call. Giving in to the hunger pangs, I sniffed my way toward the kitchen.

"There you are! I was just coming to get you for lunch!" I watched as Barb took a pan out of the oven with a large roast chicken in it. A couple of aluminum foil wrapped potatoes were also carefully retrieved from the oven.

"You didn't have to do this, Barb!"

"I wanted to, Jen. This is good solid, PLAIN food. Just what your stomach needs right now to recover from the rest of that hangover. And before you say anything more, I paid for this out of the petty cash funds. I put a receipt in the cash box already."

"OK, I'm not going to argue on this one. Boy that smells good! Let me help you."

"Nope. Go sit. I have this all worked out." I shrugged then slipped into a chair at the kitchen table. Barb transferred the chicken onto a large serving platter then placed the two baked potatoes alongside. She then set a small pan full of green beans on the table.

"There, all set. Go easy on the margarine on the potato, OK? Your stomach might complain if you had too much right now and it won't be pretty either."

"Right!" I set a baked potato on my plate then stirred in a bit of margarine and a little salt and pepper. As I was fixing my potato, Barb served up a portion of the white meat from the chicken and a large spoonful of the green beans. She also placed a glass of ice water next to my plate.

"No soda or milk for you for a few more hours. Ice water will have to do. Dig in! It's getting cold!"

My stomach complained bitterly when the first few morsels of food reached it. I managed to resist the urge to throw up. The feeling passed after a few minutes as I slowly munched on the food in front of me. Despite being prepared without spices, the lunch was one of the most satisfying that I had eaten in quite a long time. I sighed and lightly patted my tummy as I pushed the now empty plate away from me.

"Barb, that was just right. Thanks. I think I feel almost back to normal now."

"I'm glad to hear that. You've got a busy afternoon ahead. You need to change clothes then call MouseWorld."

"Why do I need to change clothes before I call MouseWorld? It's just a phone call."

"Well, the TV people are coming over right after that. Do you wanna be interviewed in THAT?" She pointed to the baggy sweatshirt and shorts.

"I guess not. I'll help you clean up then I'll go get changed."

"Jen, you'll do no such thing. I can take care of this mess, you just go get pretty for the public. Have you taken a good look at yourself in the mirror today?"

"That bad, huh?" She nodded yes slowly. "OK, I'll go take care of myself. You can leave this for later and I'll take care of it, Barb."

Barb shooed me out of my own kitchen as she began putting the unused food portions away and loading the dishwasher. I walked back to my bedroom and sat down in front of the makeup table.

The sight wasn't a very good one. The face I saw in the mirror had dark spots under both eyes and a rather pasty white complexion instead of my usual rosy pink one. Fortunately, I had gotten better with cosmetics over the last few months and knew just what to do. In short order the bags under my eyes and the lack of color in my face were both hidden under a layer of makeup.

Now that I resembled my normal self I started to work on my hair. I hadn't noticed earlier but there were still several tangled spots. I worked those out then brushed my hair so that it shined again. The ponytail was back in place.

The question next was what to do about the clothes. Wearing an outfit like I had worn to the play would have been way too showy for an interview in my own home. I settled for a nice pair of jeans and a satin blouse. The blouse was rather low cut in the front. A small golden heart-shaped charm on a gold chain dangled teasingly at the top of the space between my breasts. The jeans fit me like a second skin revealing all my curves in the right places. I had learned that my appearance helped greatly and the interviews were, after all, just another public appearance.

The response from Barb was worth the effort I had gone through when I walked back into the office.

"Now you look like you!"

"HUH?"

"You know what I mean, Jen. You look like your old self now."

"If I looked like my old self I'd have a scraggly beard and weigh over three hundred pounds. I'd be going bald too." I actually shuddered at the thought of going back to my old body. "Why would I want to look like that now?"

"I give up!" She tossed her hands in the air while smiling. "All I know is that you look much better than this morning and I'll bet you feel better too."

"THAT we can agree on, Barb. So what am I doing now?"

"Well, it's almost one-thirty. You need to get comfy at your desk and take a look at the sheets I left. MouseWorld faxed them this morning. Then you can call Mark and talk a little more about the show."

"OK. Anything else?"

"Yes. Do you have any other checking accounts that you haven't told me about? I got a call from the bank on Friday. Here, look at these." She handed me several faxed sheets from the bank.

"Hmmm… This IS strange. That was an old account of mine but I don't know a thing about the address or name change let alone the transactions going on. Can you let the bank know that it's not mine?"

"That's just it, Jen. It has your identification all over it."

"Well, what can we do about it?"

"I'd suggest an investigator, Jen. Something odd is going on there."

"OK, is there anyone you recommend to look into this for me?"

"I know just the person. Let me make some phone calls. First I'll call the bank and tell them what's going on then I'll call my contact. Now scoot and go talk to MouseWorld."

"Thanks, Barb. D'ya think my tummy can handle a cup of coffee now?"

"Nope, not yet but how 'bout a cuppa hot chocolate instead?"

"Works for me." I started to make the hot chocolate then got shooed toward my office.

"I'll bring it in, go talk to MouseWorld! STOP DAWDLING GIRL. GET IN THERE!"

I headed for the office by forcing myself to move. As I plunked down behind the desk I had to admit to myself that I was scared at the prospect of doing the show for MouseWorld. It would be the largest project I had worked on and probably the most risky one as well. I would be on live national television as I hosted the TV special. What if I froze on the air? What if I …

ENOUGH… enough of the 'what if' games I was playing in my head! Here the chance of a lifetime had fallen directly into my lap and I was playing mental games about my fear. With the things I had gone through in the last six months why am I worried about this now? Determined to overcome the last of those little nagging doubts about myself, I picked up the faxed sheets and read them completely.

The bottom of the last page contained a list of contact numbers at MouseWorld. I figured I'd start out with Mark and work from there. I waited for a few seconds while the phone rang.

"Hello, MouseWorld Media Center. If you know the extension number of your…"

The canned greeting stopped as I pressed the numbers of Mark's extension. "Mark Townsend, can I help you?"

"Hi Mark, Jennifer Stevens calling. How are you today?"

"I'm doing fine, even better now that you've called. I take it you survived the weekend?"

"Barely, Mark. There was an accident…"

"I know all about it. The local station sent me an updated packet on Sunday night. Quite impressive."

I wondered if he could tell how much I was blushing over the phone. "Thanks, Mark. Now about this contract…"

"Jennifer, instead of talking about this on the phone, we'd like to have you visit us in Orlando to talk about it and show you some of the new attractions. Are you available tomorrow? Barb says you have an open day."

"Mark, I'm not certain that I can arrange trans…"

"Already covered, Jennifer. I can have the company jet pick you up in Syracuse tonight and a hotel room is already booked and waiting for you. Please say you'll come?"

"If you really want me that much I guess I'll just have to say yes, Mark. Am I to assume that you and Barb have worked out all of the details already?"

"Of course! Hey, keep in mind that it's in the middle sixties here right now with lots of nice WARM sunshine. Think of it as a vacation from that cold central New York winter of yours."

"Hmmm… let's see. Warm weather in Orlando or freezing my tush off here. Gee, Mark, I don't think you have to twist my arm any harder. I'll see you in Orlando tomorrow."

"Great! See you then ,Jennifer!" The line clicked then went dead. Barb walked into the office moments after I hung up the phone.

"Here's all the details of the trip. I assume you said yes, didn't you?" She placed a stack of paper on the desk.

"Yes, I said yes. If I were a suspicious person I'd almost be forced to conclude that you two are ganging up on me. Is this some plot to take over my business or something?"

"Jen, honey, you ARE the business! Where you go, the business goes. Haven't you realized that yet?"

"What are you babbling about?"

"Look, you're the product we're selling here. You go out and make public appearances, you do the radio show every week and now you're probably going to host that TV special. Jen, you're the cornerstone of this business. Without you there is no business."

I leaned back in the chair and thought for a few moments. "I guess I've always known that but just never really thought about it. I've been so busy doing things that I haven't stopped to think about where all this is headed. I don't have any kind of plan of where I want to be five or ten years from now."

"Did you have any kind of plan before your change?"

"Hell, no. I wasn't expecting to live past fifty-five years old, Barb. I couldn't make any plans then. I never was certain that I'd be around to carry them out. I guess I still have that old habit hanging around inside me."

"Old habits are hard to break, Jen. Don't worry that you don't have a long-term plan. Just start thinking about where you want to be with your new life in, let's say, five years from now."

"I'll try, Barb. I'll really give it a try." I picked up the pile of travel plan sheets and glanced at them. "So I leave at around six PM today and I'll be in Orlando at around eight PM?"

"Something like that, yes. The reservation is at their best hotel. Their limo will take you from the private airstrip to the hotel. Looks like you're getting the royal treatment on this one, Jen."

"It certainly does look that way doesn't it? I wonder how much they're spending just to get me down there to talk about this?"

"Enough that I'd say they were quite serious about getting your services."

"Are you coming with me, Barb?"

"No, you're on your own on this one, Jen. I have an appointment tomorrow about the surgery. I can't miss it. It's when we set the final date."

"Tammy can't come along?"

"Nope, I called her already. She has several papers due next week. She has to get those finished. You're going solo on this trip."

"OK. I guess I'll need a ride to the airport. Can you take me over on your way home, Barb?"

"No need for that. I've arranged for a limo to take you. MouseWorld insisted on it and they're paying for it too. Mark said you were to get the red carpet treatment all the way and that's just what you're going to have."

"I give up. With treatment like this you'd think I was a movie star or something. I'm NOT that special, Barb."

"All that matters is that you're special to them, Jen. Just go with it and enjoy the attention."

I shrugged then went back to work on the pile of paper on the desk. Another half-hour went by before Barb answered a knock on the office outside door. A few moments later she came into the office.

"Jen, the first of the TV crews is here. Is it OK if I have them set up in the living room?"

"Sure, I'll be right there. I need to freshen up a bit then I'll be right with them."

I headed for my bedroom as Barb steered the crew to the living room. I ran the brush through my hair one more time and checked that the makeup was still intact. Satisfied that I looked ready I stepped into the living room with a big smile on my face.

Half an hour later the first interview of a total of three was over. I was amazed at the number of questions they asked and how much they wanted to know about things best left private. They seemed intent on probing my love life and any other lurid details they could dig up. I resisted of course and steered the conversation back toward the play or other public matters every time. When they finally turned off the bright lights and the camera I felt like I'd been totally drained.

Just after they left Barb brought in a snack and a soda. "Thanks, Barb. That was quite a session."

"I know. I was watching from out of camera range. Pesky little buggers aren't they?"

"They wanted to know way too much about my personal life. What business of theirs is it to know who, if anyone, I'm seeing or if I've gotten used to having periods yet?"

"It's all part of the game, Jen. Better get used to it."

"I know I have to but I still don't like it." I bit off a bit chunk of a brownie then followed it up with a sip from the soda can. "Great brownies, Barb. Where did you get these?"

"I made them this morning. I had a chocolate craving so I baked a batch. I hope you don't mind. I'll pay you back for the ingredients I used."

"No you won't, as long as you make these again sometime."

"You got a deal. Now relax a bit before the next onslaught. The next TV crew will be here at three PM then the last one at four PM."

"One down, two more to go. I'll make it through this, I know I will." I took another big bite of the brownie and savored the flavor for a few moments. Barb was smiling as she left to grab the phone that was ringing in the office.

The other two interviews went almost exactly like the first one did. I almost asked the reporters if they had photocopied the same set of questions for all three stations. At least the second and third interviews didn't probe into personal matters as hard as the first reporter tried. I think that one or two side-stepped answers were enough to tell the reporters they weren't going to get answers out of me to those types of questions.

As the crew from the third interview was leaving Barb popped into the living room with a plate of food.

"I figured that you could use a break. It's getting late and you need to eat something before the limo gets here."

"Sheesh, is it THAT late already? How long have I been working on the interviews anyway?"

"About 3 hours straight, Jen. That last one took almost an hour. It's nearly five and the limo will be here in another half an hour or so. Now eat!"

"Leftovers?"

"Sort of. I made you a chicken sandwich and chips with a soda. That should hold you a while. I packed your bags too. You're all set for the trip. Now sit back and enjoy the food."

I have to admit that I was ravenous and had no trouble polishing off the sandwich and chips. When I finished the sandwich I made a dash into the bedroom to change into something more appropriate to traveling. A nice warm flannel shirt replaced the satin blouse I had worn for the interviews. I also replaced the strappy heels with warm comfy boots better suited for the cold central NY temperatures.

I left my hair in a ponytail and added a few bobby pins to keep a few strands of fly-away hair out of my face. All that mattered for this trip was that I was comfortable and warm.

The limo arrived right on time. The driver loaded my bags into the trunk then helped me into the huge car. The traffic was rather light so the trip to the airport didn't take very long. As we pulled into the private terminal the ground crew directed the limo alongside a waiting private jet. I looked up to see that the tail carried the familiar mouse ears corporate logo.

I waited briefly in the car as the ground crew completed refueling the jet. As I stepped out of the warm limo the cold wind hit me full in the face sending a chill up my spine. I pulled the coat tighter around my neck and shivered as I walked up the short set of steps that extended from the side of the aircraft.

"Hello, Miss Stevens. I'm Bill Tyler and this is the co-pilot for tonight's trip, George McReedy. We're pleased that you could make the trip tonight."

I shook hands with both of them then followed them to the seating area. "Thanks for making the trip up here to pick me up. How are the flying conditions tonight? Any weather issues?"

"Are you a pilot?"

"No, I've just been flying a lot recently and I've had an interest in weather for years."

"Well, there may be some problems with a line of thunderstorms as we get further south. It could get a bit bumpy later. We figure the flight time is around two hours or so."

"Would it be all right if I visited you on the flight deck after we get in the air?"

"We'd love to have the company, Miss Stevens."

"Ah, guys, please call me Jennifer or Jen. I'm not big on the formal stuff, OK?"

"Sure, Jennifer. You all set here?" He watched as I buckled up in the seat.

"Yup. I've been through so many emergency procedure lectures that I could give one by heart."

The pilots left for the cabin. I watched out the window as a small tug moved the plane away from the hanger area out onto the flight line. The tug pulled up alongside then attached a couple of lines to the side of the jet. A few moments later I heard one of the two small jet engines at the rear of the plane start up. It ran for almost two minutes then the other engine started. We sat on the tarmac for another three minutes as the jets warmed up and the pilots completed the take-off checklist.

A slight increase in the jet noise accompanied the slow rollout of the jet onto the runway. We sat for a few seconds as the jets revved up to full power then throttled back to idle. I knew from experience that we were moments from starting the take-off roll down the thirteen thousand foot runway. The little jet would only need about three thousand feet to accelerate to lift-off speed. The engines screamed at full power as the jet rolled smoothly down the runway gathering speed.

Once again the lights along the runway passed by so fast that they became impossible to count as the jet hurtled down the runway. All of a sudden I was pressed downward in the seat as the jet literally leaped off the runway and clawed its way into the night. I wasn't concerned at the severity of the takeoff since leaving on this particular runway required a steep climb-out angle. The residents of the surrounding area had protested that the noise from aircraft taking off was too great. A court order had forced the somewhat unusual takeoff procedures to put more vertical distance between the planes and the houses below. A couple of minutes after take-off the climb angle lessened and the engines throttled back just a bit. I knew that we were well above the houses below and that the plane could return to normal climbing speed until we reached the proper cruising altitude.

Fifteen minutes later the seat belt light went out. I unbuckled then stood up to take off my coat. I'd decided to leave it on during take-off until the cabin had a chance to warm up a little more. The cabin was nice and warm now so I no longer needed the coat. I put the coat over another seat and got comfortable to wait out the rest of the trip. A few minutes later Bill came through the flight deck door.

"You mentioned you'd like to visit us up front. Would you like to do that now?"

"Sure! Lead the way!"

"Let me get a cup of coffee and we'll go right up." He stopped in the small galley area and fixed two cups of the dark brew. "Would you like something? We have coffee, soda and spring water."

"Just a spring water, please." He handed me a chilled bottle from a small refrigerator beneath the counter. "Thanks."

"All set. Right this way…"

We walked through the door to a smallish cabin area. There were three seats, two at the front of the cockpit and a third on the right side behind the first two. It was next to a panel filled with switches and readouts. It looked like some type of engineering station to me.

"Here you go." He motioned to the third seat. "Just watch out for the panel there. Please don't touch anything on it, OK?"

"No problem there, Bill. I know what that is and I won't lay a finger on it."

The conversation began and we talked for well over an hour about a wide range of topics including my background and recent events that led me to be on board tonight. During a lull in the chatter in the cabin they got a call on the radio.

"Thirty-two Mike William Charlie this is Memphis Center calling. Copy?"

"Roger, Memphis Center. Go ahead."

" Thirty-two Mike William Charlie you have a heavy line of thunderstorms ahead of you. There's activity all around the front associated with it. We suggest you climb to flight level three-seven-zero to get over the worst of it. Your option, over."

The pilots studied their on-board radar for a few moments. "Roger, Memphis. We agree. Climbing to three-seven-zero. Over."

"Confirmed Thirty-two Mike William Charlie. Climbing to three-seven-zero. Maintain current heading and speed. Call when clear of the storm. Out."

"Ummm… Jennifer, we…"

"I heard, Bill. There's a storm up ahead and you're climbing to thirty seven thousand feet to try to get over the worst of it. Do you want me to go back to my seat?"

"Actually, no. Just buckle up where you are. The multi-point harness on that seat is better than the standard seat belt back there. Just cinch it up tight. This could get nasty."

It took a minute or so for me to figure out the arrangement of belts and how it could fit my new anatomy comfortably. "Will one of you check this and make sure I have it right?"

George turned his seat around and checked the belts. "That's perfect, Jen. Now hang on 'cause this is gonna get rough."

"I'm all set guys, do what you need to do to get us through this." I watched quietly as they concentrated on the radar screen. Since there was a screen displaying the same image on the tech console I watched that as the storm grew in intensity ahead of us. I wasn't thrilled about the chatter between the two pilots.

"Jesus, Bill. Look at that. It's closed in around us. The peaks are up to sixty thousand feet. We can't go high enough to fly over it and there's no way to turn back the way we came. It's worse at lower altitudes than it is here. What do we do?"

"We don't have a choice, George. We have to try to pick a spot and go through it."

"All right, call Memphis control and let them know."

The conversation with the control center was short and to the point. The control center wasn't very happy about it but they couldn't see any other solution either. We were cleared to take whatever course corrections the pilots thought were needed to make it through. We were the only aircraft within a few hundred miles of the massive storm.

"We've got to dive in somewhere, George. See any likely spots?"

"There off to the east. The storm seems to be splitting in that area. We might be able to sneak through there."

"All right. That's where we're headed. Changing course to intercept."

I listened in silence as they carefully aimed the tiny jet at the small opening in the huge storm front.

"About a minute to contact, Bill. Are we ready?"

"All backup systems on standby, everything checks, George. Let's do this."

Less than a minute later the jet plowed into a huge cloud. The little plane started to shake like a dog shaking an old rag. Lightning flashed all around us in the inky blackness outside. The shaking lasted for several more seconds then started to smooth out.

"Looks like we're through the worst of it, Bill. The radar says th…"

A huge white flash lit up the cabin followed immediately by a sharp crack. As our eyes and ears recovered we all realized that all of a sudden it had gotten very dark and quiet in the cockpit.

"OH SHIT! The power's gone and so are the engines. What the hell was that anyway?"

"A lightning strike, Bill." I said as calmly as possible. "OK, guys. Lay it out for me."

"We've got to get the power back on and light up one of those engines or we're going down. This thing has about a seventy-mile glide range and we're nowhere near enough to an airport to make it without an engine. We still have limited control since this is an older jet that doesn't use electric power for the controls like the newer ones do. I figure we've got maybe ten minutes or less before we kiss the ground hard."

"OK, Bill. I've got the picture. Where do we start?"

"That panel next to you. Check the breakers to see if any of then need to be reset."

"Got a light?"

He passed me a small flashlight and I scanned the breakers for any that had popped. I found at least two that had tripped. The first one reset when I cycled it giving us back the lights in the cabin. The other one didn't go as smoothly. I cycled the breaker several times each time noting a mushy feeling instead of a sharp snap when the breaker closed. I felt the panel around the breaker. It was warm to the touch and my fingers had a smoky smell after I touched the panel.

"Damn. I think the breaker has failed. The panel felt hot around it and there's some soot around the breaker handle. Looks like it turns on the avionics in the console, the radio, the engine controls, and most of the readouts."

"Shit. Well we have to go with what we've got then. George, get out the charts and see if you can find us a place to get this damned thing on the ground. Somewhere with a lot of space, OK? We're not gonna make it to an airport."

"Right." George grabbed the charts and started sorting through them. I sat there a moment staring at the panel.

"Umm… guys, can I have a go at trying to patch something together?"

"Have something in mind, Jen?"

"I think I can patch the avionics circuit through the lighting breaker if you can do without cockpit lights. It might let us start an engine."

"We got nothing to loose. Go ahead, Jen. George, give her a hand."

"Got any tools here?"

"There's a small tool kit under the workstation in a drawer, Jennifer." George unbuckled when I did and retrieved the kit from storage. "Let's get this panel open."

He handed me a screwdriver then got the flashlight ready. I released three panel locks and was pleasantly surprised when the panel hinged downward and stopped at the end of two short supporting chains. George played the flashlight along the row of breakers. We quickly found that the avionics breaker had failed since the panel around it was covered in black soot. I looked at the panel for a moment then shook my head.

"Damn. The lighting breaker is only a fifteen amp. The bad one is a twenty amp. I can do the cross-circuit but I'm not certain how long the breaker will hold. The other possibility is that I simply strap around it. That's chancy too."

"Go for the strap around, Jen. It's our best chance."

"Right." I fussed over the panel for another minute. Damn! The wire isn't long enough to reach. Why can't they leave a little extra? George, do we have any wire in that kit?"

He spent thirty seconds searching the small bag. "Nothing. Not even a scrap. What do we do now?"

I blew an errant strand of hair out of my face then remembered that I had put some bobby pins in my hair to hold it out of the way. I grabbed one of the pins and went about bending it.

"You're gonna try fixing this thing with a bobby pin? Are you out of your mind?"

"Just WHAT would YOU suggest George?" I glared at him for several seconds.

"George, look, she's got a good idea there. Let her try it, otherwise we're not gonna make it."

"But she's…"

"Go ahead, Jen. Do it and it had better be NOW!"

"Got a knife in there, George, and a pair of wire cutters?"

"Got the cutters, no knife though."

"Go grab my purse will you?" He left the cabin returning moments later with my purse.

"You've got about two minutes more, Jen. We need time to start the engine. We're running out of altitude here."

"I got it, Bill." I snipped the bobby pin to length then took the Leatherman tool out of my purse and folded out a very sharp knife blade.

"What's that for?"

"I have to scrape off the varnish coating to get down to the steel underneath." Another minute passed as I cleaned the wire.

"Any time, Jen."

"I'm working on it, Bill, I'm going as fast as I can."

"George, get back in your seat and get ready to start an engine. We're only going to have one chance at this before we get too low."

I inserted one end in the fitting on the breaker that connected to the equipment. The other side of the breaker was the live power. I used the insulated cutters to slip the wire under the screw on the power side of the breaker. A huge spark jumped across the joint as I inserted the wire. I tightened the screw then looked over at Bill. He gave me a thumbs up then pointed to the console awash in live instruments.

"We're live folks. Let 'er rip George."

"OK, Bill. Attempting a start on number one."

The engine sputtered to life then died. The scene was repeated twice more. "Come on, baby. Light off. Just one more try…"

George hit the start button again and held it. Slowly, oh so slowly, the engine sputtered to life until it was running steadily. George scanned the gages. "We're up, Bill. It's all yours."

Bill slowly advanced the throttle testing the stability of the tiny plane on a single engine. "We're good. The air speed is up and we're climbing slowly, it's slushy on the controls but I think we'll make it. George, get on the radio to Memphis and let them know what happened. Declare an emergency and get us cleared for the nearest airport."

"Right." George popped on the headset. After several calls he finally got through. A red light on the engineering panel grabbed my attention. I tapped the gauge hoping that what I saw wasn't true.

"Bill, we've got a failure on the hydraulic pressure. The gauge reads zero and there's an alert light."

"DAMN! That means we aren't going to be able to drop the landing gear. We'll have to try a manual crank-down."

"Bill, is there another pump on engine two?"

"Jen, you're beautiful. George, put the tower on hold and try to light up number two. We need to get the hydraulics working again. The pump is out on number one."

George ripped off the headset and began to start number two. It sputtered briefly to life then quit. As it died we heard a small explosion from the rear of the plane and the fire indicator came on for engine two. The plane lurched to one side then started bucking like a horse again.

"Jen, pull the fire bottle switch for two NOW!"

"Pulled."

"Good. Go take a look from a window over the wing. You should be able to see the engine nacelle. Give me a report."

"Right." On my way back to the passenger cabin the plane continued to lurch side-to-side sending me flying across the cabin. I bounced off the seats and bulkheads like a child's rag doll. If we made it out of this alive I knew I was going to hurt like hell in the morning.

I make it to the appropriate window and gazed out into the inky darkness. There was no fire that I could see. Suddenly a flash of lightning lit up the sky enough for me to see that the engine nacelle was quite simply gone. The tail on that side was missing about a third of the horizontal stabilizer while the remaining part hung downward. I hurried back to the cabin.

"How's it handling?"

"Bad. I'm having to fight to keep her in the air. What the hell's going on back there anyway?"

"It's not good, Bill. The stabilizer on the right side has been damaged. About a third of it is gone along with the entire engine nacelle. The rest of it is bent down at an odd angle. That's what's upsetting the balance."

"Shit! Even if the hydraulics were working we can't drop the wheels. The extra drag would send us out of control. I'm barely keeping us in the air now with the single engine at full throttle."

The look on both of their faces didn't encourage me much. "Will we make it?"

"If you have any connection with the folks upstairs some heavy laying on of prayers would sure help out right about now. George, bring Memphis up to speed on what happened. Let 'em know if we make it that far we'll be coming in gear up on the grass next to the runway."

I sat in stunned silence as the jet lurched its way toward the airport. George broke the quiet a few moments later.

"Memphis says that there are two airports open for us. Charlotte or Atlanta. Charlotte is closer but has a shorter runway. Atlanta is further away but has better facilities to handle us. Which one?"

"Charlotte. We'll never make it to Atlanta. Tell them to have foam standing by."

"Right." George returned to the radio.

"OK, Bill, the truth."

"The truth." He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "Truth is we're lucky to still be in the air. We've got a fifty-fifty chance to reach the airport if nothing else goes wrong. As for setting this crate down in a single piece, that's debatable. If we don't hook a wing when we come in for a belly landing we just might make it. That is if we don't have a fire start and ignite what's left of the fuel in the tanks."

"Damn, and I forgot my bag of marshmallows for after the weenie roast. Well, thanks for the ride, guys. It was fun while it lasted."

"Hey, if you hadn't been able to get the power restored we wouldn't even have those chances. The left engine is still good and seems to be holding. We're past the front so getting into the airport won't be as bad as it could have been if we had to try to land in the middle of a storm. I think we have a better than fifty percent chance of walking away from this one."

"I'll have to take your word on that, Bill. I don't do this kind of stuff every day myself." I looked out the window of the wildly bouncing jet to see a strip of light on the horizon. "Is that the airport?"

"Yup, good eyes, Jen. I'm not going to be able to look at the gages much. I need you to call out our altitude for me as we get under a hundred feet, ok?"

"Got it." I located the altitude gage on the engineering panel and spent several moments making sure I knew how to read it.

"Charlotte tower this is Thirty-two Mike Whiskey Charlie on final. We've got one chance at this. Gear is up and we have heavy damage to the horizontal stabilizer and tail. Will attempt belly landing on the grass next to the main strip, over."

"Thirty-two Mike Whiskey Charlie, Charlotte tower. Confirming… landing on grass next to main runway. Rescue crew standing by with foam. Crosswind gusting from the south to ten knots. You're on a straight-in approach on the proper glide slope. Good luck, over."

"Roger, Charlotte tower and thanks. Thirty-two Mike Wiskey Charlie out."

"Jen, George, buckle in again and cinch 'em tight. We're gonna take a beating when this things lands on her belly. Please put your seat backs in the vertical position and lock your seat trays away. Thanks for flying MouseWorld Air."

"I bet you say that at all the emergency landings don't you, Bill?"

"Company policy I'm afraid." He winked at me. "Now give me altitude every five feet when we get below a hundred feet, OK?"

"You got it." The tension in increased as the jet dropped closer to the hard earth below.

"Charlotte tower to Thirty-two Mike Whiskey Charlie… low on glide path, pull it up a little. You'll be over the outer marker in about thirty seconds. Good luck."

"Pull it up a bit, Bill. We're coming in just a bit steep."

"This is all the UP it's got, George." The lone jet engine was screaming at full power just to keep us in the air. There simply wasn't any more power available to climb. "I hope the ground cushion effect helps us some. Otherwise it's gonna be a hard hit."

"One hundred feet, Bill."

"OK everyone. Brace yourselves. This is it…"

"Ninety-five…"

"Drifting to the right, Bill. Can you compensate?"

"I'll try."

"Eighty feet." The numbers were changing too fast for me to call out every five feet.

"That's good. We're lined up on the grass."

"Seventy feet, Bill."

"Crosswind's picking up. Drifting to the left now." The plane lurched to the right as Bill tried to correct for the wind.

"Fifty feet."

"Damn we're coming in too steep. Can you flare her out, Bill?"

"I'll try."

"Thirty feet."

"Nose coming up a bit. We're getting close to stall speed." An alarm went off in the cabin. "That's the stall warning. We're still OK."

The numbers flying by on the dial slowed a little. "Fifteen feet."

"Come on baby, just a few more seconds…"

"Ten feet… "

"Brace now!"

I pulled my arms to my side and crossed my legs to help brace against the crash I knew was coming. The plane bounced as it hit the ground then settled down skidding sideways. We felt and heard a loud explosion then the plane rolled over several times finally skidding to a halt on the roof. It left us hanging upside down in our seats. The smell of burning jet fuel invaded the cabin along with thick black smoke.

"Everyone OK?"

"I'm here, Bill. How about you, George?"

"I'm OK. Let's get the hell out of here!"

George unbuckled the belt and fell to the roof of the plane. Bill did the same then they both helped me unbuckle and stand up after flipping me over. The smoke coming into the cabin was starting to make us cough and it was getting harder to see. We stumbled for the door only to find it jammed shut by the crash.

"Back to the flight deck. We'll kick out a window!"

Bill managed to break one of the windows over the console after several tries. He pushed me out and crawled out after me. George followed right behind him. We stumbled to our feet then ran at least a hundred feet away from the burning wreckage. As I looked back part of the fuselage exploded in a ball of flames and debris.

"God that was close." I collapsed on the grass. Bill and George sat down beside me as the rescue crew sprayed foam everywhere. A couple of firemen walked over to us.

"Everyone out?"

"Yes, just the three of us."

"Lets have a look at you then." He took out a flashlight and looked us over. "What's this?" He took out a sterile pad and wiped something from the side of my head then shone the light on the pad. "Blood, looks like you got a bit of a cut there. Charlie, get the ambulance over here."

A few moments later a huge ambulance stopped next to us on the grass. We were all helped inside then my wound was cleaned and bandaged as the ambulance pulled away from the wreckage of the jet.

"Where are we going?"

"We're taking you to the terminal area first. The accident investigators will want to talk to all three of you about what happened up there."

"And then?"

"After that we'll make overnight arrangements for you."

"What about my bags and…"

"If anything survives the fire we'll make sure they catch up with you." I nodded as I realized that I was now quite happy that I had taken a few seconds to locate my purse as the pilots were breaking out that window. At least with my credit cards and identification I could replace all of the contents of my bags with just a few hours of shopping. I also had my cell phone and my daytime planner with all of my contact information.

When we got to the terminal we were escorted into a conference room in the administrative area of the main office. Six people were waiting for us in the room. They introduced themselves as members of the crash investigation team then we split up into three groups. Each of us was taken to a separate room with two of the investigation team to discuss what happened. For me, it took about an hour for the investigators to ask their questions and record my answers. I imagine it was quite a bit more involved for the two pilots.

I had hoped to see the two men that saved my life again but when I returned to the conference room a tall man in a dark suite was there as there to meet me.

"Miss Stevens, I'm Jack Pomeroy, the airport manager. I wish that I could welcome you to Charlotte under better circumstances."

"Better circumstances, Mister Pomeroy? We walked away from that with only minor cuts, scratches and bruises. How can it get any better?"

"Point taken, Miss Stevens and please call me Jack."

"All right, Jack, and please call me Jennifer. Now where do we go from here?"

"Well, if the investigators are done with you I have a pack of press people out there about to go crazy to talk to you. The word leaked out that you were on that jet."

I sighed then shook my head. "They always find out somehow, don't they? Do you have somewhere we can use for the press conference?"

"We have something set up already. Are you up to doing this in a few minutes?"

"Sure. I want to get this over and then get some sleep. Can I talk with one of the investigators first? The reporters are sure to ask me about the crash and I don't want to jeopardize the investigation by saying too much too soon."

"Let me go get someone." Jack left the conference room then returned a few minutes later with one of the investigators. I talked with the man for a few minutes to get an idea of what I could safely say then I asked him to attend the meeting with me to answer any questions I couldn't.

The press conference went much faster than I thought it would. Once I said I was fine and gave the reporters their sound bites and quotes, they pounced on the poor investigator bombarding him with questions for which he had no answers. The press session ended after around thirty minutes then I was escorted back to the conference room that served as the holding area.

I entered the room to find that my bags had been retrieved from the airplane. They were badly singed and soaked with the foam that had been used to put out the fire. As I went through the bags I quickly concluded that there was very little in them that I could use immediately. I guessed that most of the clothes might be salvaged with a thorough washing or dry cleaning. The rest, my makeup and personal items, were beyond hope. I heard someone open the door behind me and turned around to face my visitor. It was the airport manager.

"I see they found your bags. How bad is the damage?"

"Bad enough, Jack. All I really have is what's in my purse and what I'm wearing at the moment. The rest isn't useable right now."

"Too bad. I came in to let you know that we've arranged a room at a nearby hotel for you overnight. The pilots took care of contacting MouseWorld. They'll have another jet here in the morning to either continue your trip or take you back home. The pilots wanted me to tell you that someone from the company will call in about an hour or so on your cell phone. Did that survive the crash?"

"Yes, it was in my purse along with a few other things I'm glad I have. I might need to get the charger plugged in to give the battery a boost though." I rummaged in the bags until I located the charger sealed inside a plastic bag. It looked to be in good shape.

"The investigation staff is finished with you and so, it appears, is the press. Do you want to go to the hotel now?"

"I most certainly do. I'm running on adrenalin right now and really need a bath and some sleep."

"Then you can give this to the people at the front desk." He handed me an envelope. "This will tell them to bill MouseWorld and give you whatever you need. They faxed this to us to give to you."

"Thanks, Jack. I really do appreciate this." I don't know why I did it, but I gave him a huge hug and a little kiss on the cheek. He was smiling from ear to ear as I followed him out to a van waiting to take me to the hotel.

The trip to the hotel took just a few minutes since it was located on the outskirts of the airport. They seemed to be expecting me since someone was waiting to unload my soggy bags from the van. They even offered to run several loads of clothes through their laundry if I would sort out what I wanted washed. I decided to take them up on the offer and made up a load of underthings and enough clothes to get me through a couple of days. The rest I would take care of at home.

As soon as someone picked up the clothes to be washed I headed for the small bathroom to soak in the tub. I didn't have any of my usual bath oils so I made do with the supplies provided by the hotel. I reeked of smoke and wanted desperately to get rid of the smell on my hair and skin.

Almost half an hour later I finished bathing and slipped on the hotel-provided robe. Now that I felt human again I decided to make some phone calls. I took the cell phone out of my purse and found out that the battery was drained. The charger brought it back to life and it started ringing almost immediately.

"Hello?"

"Oh, thank God! This is Mark Townsend at MouseWorld. I just got the news a little while ago! Are you all right?"

"Just some scrapes and bruises. Mark. I'm fine, really!"

"So what do you want to do now?"

"Why come and visit to complete our business, of course!"

"But…"

"Mark, I don't blame MouseWorld or the pilots for this. It was just bad weather that caused the problems."

"Are you sure, Jennifer?"

"Yes."

"Good. I'll have another jet at the airport to continue the trip in the morning."

"What's going to happen to the two pilots, Mark?"

"Well, corporate isn't very happy that we lost an expensive aircraft. They might loose their jobs."

"Well, you tell corporate that they should get a medal for getting that crate down and us out of there alive. Those two fought that plane every mile after the lightning hit to get us to that airport. I won't be very happy with MouseWorld if they're fired over this. It wasn't their fault, Mark."

"So I've heard. It seems that you had a part in the whole thing too. Using a bobby pin to bypass that bad circuit breaker? Where did you come up with that, Jennifer?"

"HEY! It worked didn't it? I needed a piece of wire and that's what was available."

"I'll pass your comments along to the corporate folks. Now get some sleep and I'll see you in the morning, OK?"

"G'nite, Mark, and thanks!" The line clicked then went dead. I pressed the button on the cell phone to hang up and, as I released the button, the phone started ringing again.

"Hello?"

"JEN! Thank God I got through! You had Tammy and I worried to death!"

"Calm down, Barb! I'm fine. Other than some scrapes and bruises that is. How did you find out?"

"Are you kidding me? You've been the topic of the TV news for the last two hours! They carried that press conference you did live on the major news networks."

"What's all the fuss about? We made it down and we got out alive."

"Well, I'm glad that you're all right. What's the plan? Are you coming back home tomorrow?"

"No, I'm going to continue onto Orlando in the morning. MouseWorld will have another jet here then."

"You're flying again?"

"And why not? The accident was a fluke, Barb. I'm just going to make sure before we lift off that we won't be running into any more thunderstorms."

We talked for another twenty minutes or so then I had to hang up to call Adam. I was more than a little worried that he hadn't heard the news yet. I dialed his home number and waited while the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hi Adam!"

"JEN! Is that really you? I just got home about fifteen minutes ago and heard the news on the TV. Are you OK? Do you want me to come down there?"

"Yes and no, Adam."

"Yes and no? What kind of an answer is that?

"Yes, I'm fine and no, I don't need you to come here."

"You sure? I can be there in the morning."

"I'm sure, Adam. By the time you'd be able to get here I'll be heading out for Orlando again."

"You're still going through with the meeting?"

"Why not?"

"After what you've been through I just want to hold you and be near you. I had it all arranged to spend last night with you, you know. I even had today off so I could spend some extra time with you."

"Barb told me, Adam. I'm so sorry about last night. I was just so wound up from the show that I overdid it. I'm NEVER going to do that again."

"I hope so, Jen. I didn't like putting you to bed and having to leave last night. I wanted so much to make wild, passionate love to you. I love you, Jennifer Stevens."

My heart felt like it skipped a few beats as I heard those wonderful words. "I love you too, Adam."

We sat in silence for several seconds, neither of us quite knowing how to proceed.

"So you're still going to Orlando in the morning, Jen?

"Yes, Adam. I want to see what they have to offer. It might mean a whole new direction for me in my new life."

"Does this new direction include me, Jen?" I could hear the edgy quality in his voice.

"Adam, whatever direction I take I want you to be a part of it however and wherever we can be together. I promise that we'll send as much time together as we can this weekend."

Adam and I talked another half an hour then played the "you hang up first" game. I lost when I pulled a little too far on the charger cord and the cell phone turned off dumping the call.

A quick glance at the clock showed that it was nearly midnight. I decided that I had been awake long enough today and settled in for bed. Since my things were still being cleaned I slipped out of the borrowed robe and into bed naked. It took just a few minutes for me to drift off.


<<<< To be continued in Chapter 12.2 of Zapped! >>>&gt

up
149 users have voted.
If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudos! Click the "Thumbs Up!" button above to leave a Kudos

Comments

Oh boy, oh boy!

Posting these has me going back and rereading them all, all over again. Good fun, pure and simple! I went over to ralabs to read ahead, and am all ready to comment on Ch. 13 when it appears. Guess I'll just have to save my thoughts until that happens. Glad John is on vacation, he'd be sure to have something to say about saving the unsaveable, or unknown, or something. Then I'd have to sic his sister on him. :-)

Karen J.

"Being a girl is wonderful and to torture someone into that would be like the exact opposite of what it's like. I don’t know how anyone could act that way." College Girl - poetheather


"Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”
George Carlin