A family spiralling out of control.
A child forced to grow up too fast.
Is there any room left for a young girl to find herself?


Book Two ‘Childhood’
Chapter 12 – Frontier Life

 

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Author's Note:. As Cassie grows as a young woman, her changes add as many problems as they solve. However, in the hills of Eastern Oregon problem solving can often be old fashioned. As ever please be tolerant of my failings, and forthright with your criticism. ~Persephone

Current Score: US Readers 15 – 2 UK Author

Photo by  Christopher Campbell on Unsplash
© Persephone 2019

~o~O~o~

A week after Christmas the rest of the team returned and the routine of life at the facility resumed.

Michael got Cassie’s report card emailed to him for her last semester, so he called her to join him in the kitchen for privacy after dinner.

“What was your GPA at East Side?” He asked as he reviewed the pages in front of him.

“An average of three point seven for both grades seven and eight.” Cassie replied nervously. She thought she had done okay, but her new teachers might not be as kind as her old ones. “It would have been higher but I’m not very good at French. I only got a B+.” She admitted.

Michael gave her a long look. “Well that will explain your report card. Your results are at least consistent. Your lowest grade was B+ in French. Everything else was an A or A-, except for Math with an A+. Overall you grade went up to three point seven four, so congratulations.” Michael allowed his grin to match Cassandra’s as she did a little happy dance around the table.

“However…”

Cassie stopped and looked at him, suddenly nervous.

“Hey! Don’t look like that. It’s a great report card! Your teachers have some recommendations so you can do even better, and the team are able and happy to help.”

Cassie’s expression shifted to suspicion. “Uh? Help?”

Michael’s smile grew broader. “Your Math teacher thinks you’ve got a real talent, and believes you need to accelerate through the course to get you up to at least AP level while in High School. Now, you know Tony is a bit of a wiz with computers?”

She nodded, still suspicious.

“Well that also comes with a solid Math background… including completing AP Calculus BC with a top score. And the good news is… he’s very kindly offered to tutor you. At least two evenings a week!”

“Um, that’s really kind of him, but will he have the time? I know how tired you guys are of an evening.” Cassie offered desperately, seeing what little free time she had dwindling rapidly.

“Tony says he’ll be fine. He did the same for his little sister back at High School before he joined up so he’s happy to help.”

Michael’s smile grew wider. “But wait! There’s more! Not only do you get a great Math tutor, but Eric’s Mom is French Canadian and he speaks almost fluent French! He too has offered his time a couple of evenings a week to help you improve. Isn’t that great!”

Cassie struggled as her own smile grew brittle. “Yeah, that’s really kind of the guys. I’ll have to do something special to thank them.” ‘Like put ice cubes in their beds and laxative in their coffee.’

“Don’t worry Cassie, once you’re up to speed we’ll drop it back to one session a week.” Michael offered consolingly. He was surprised Cassandra had managed to keep the smile on her face when he’d told her about the extra tutoring. When it had happened to him, his Mom told him his face had looked like he was chewing lemons.

Her face lit up properly at that. “In total?”

“Each.”

A month later the mornings were still chilly as Cassie struggled to pull her jeans on to get breakfast started. Damn, she didn’t think she’d put weight on. Perhaps she ought to start her Kung Fu forms again or something. This was getting embarrassing. A quick trip to the downstairs cloakroom to wash hands and face and brush her teeth, then into the kitchen.

Following her usual Saturday routine she started the coffee as she tipped the fresh bread out of the baking tins and slipped a tray of bacon into the oven. Next the dining table got laid, then it was back to start the pancakes. The final step was starting the eggs and rushing round with a jug of OJ. At last she took a deep breath, all done!

When Cassie pushed open the door to the dining room she was shocked to see the entire team on their feet and waiting.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Cassie, happy birthday to you!”

“But… it’s not ’til Tuesday. How did you…?”

“Hey! Did you think we’d let our little princesa’s quinceañera go without a celebration?” Hector demanded.

“After breakfast, we’ll go do the groceries as usual. But Hector here will bring them back home.” Michael explained. “Then I’m taking you into Boise and the Mall there, for some shopping and a trip to the salon. Okay?”

“But what about lunch for the guys?”

“Already sorted.”

After a few more half-hearted arguments as they shopped for the week’s groceries Cassie found herself bundled into Michael’s truck heading east from Caldwell, while Hector and Josh headed back to the camp with the victuals.

Michael handed her an envelope as they entered Boise’s suburbs. “This is from all of us.”

Inside was a cutesy birthday card declaring her fifteen and signed by all the team. As she opened it a bundle of fifty dollar notes fell into her lap.

“Oh Michael, this is far too much! You guys didn’t need to…”

Michael cut her off. “We did Cassie. You’ve worked as hard as any member of the team. You’ve made us a real home here. Every other bunk house is jealous as hell when the guys brag about your cooking. You’ve saved us a bundle and are only taking a quarter of what we’re earning. The guys agreed this unanimously. You earned this okay? Every cent!”

Cassandra subsided at the passion in Michael’s voice. “Uh, thank you?”

“And uh…”. Michael looked more than a little embarrassed as he went on. “You know those pills and all? The ones that doctor in LA gave you? The guys have sort of noticed they’re working.”

Cassie was thrown by the change of subject. “Huh?”

“You know? You’re sorta filling out?” His blush spread as Cassie stared at him dumbfounded. “Your jeans are getting a bit tight an all. You know… getting more girl shaped…”. He trailed off.

Cassie didn’t know whether to blush or giggle, so ended up doing both. Then decided to have a little fun with Michael. “So you’re happy following me round the mall for half the day while I try on clothes? Loitering just outside the lingerie section?”

At that Michael grinned. “Hell no! I’m just here as your pack mule and bodyguard. We’re meeting Brandon there as your personal shopping adviser.”

Cassie was slightly irked by that. “Isn’t that a bit of an unfair stereotype? You know? He’s gay so must know about girls’ clothes?”

“Uh? Oh, I guess it could look that way. Didn’t think of that. No, it’s because he’s got three sisters,” Michael grinned, “and I trust him around you more than Josh, Jordan and Eric, who also volunteered.”

By the time Cassie’s shopping and salon expedition got back to the site, Brandon and Michael had just enough energy left to porter all her shopping up to her room, before collapsing in front of the TV. The rest of the team looked on in amusement at their two exhausted colleagues, while from the kitchen they heard Cassie singing happily.

“Rough day huh?” Eric prodded unmercifully.

Brandon just about managed to turn a glazed stare onto his interrogator. “Remember recruit training at Parris Island? The Crucible in week ten? It was like that… but color coordinated.”

“Ouch!”

Everyone shut up after that.

Once dinner was ready and served, Cassie finally came out of the kitchen to join them as they all sat down. Unlike her usual jeans and a comfy sweater, this evening she was wearing one of her new outfits. A form fitting hunter green jersey dress over black leggings and snugged at the waist with a wide belt. Her hair had grown out from its former bob and was now highlighted with shades of copper, while her eyes sparkled from the excitement of the day.

After the grace Wayne Bass cast a glance up to Cassie at the other end of the table, then leant over to Michael. “We’re gonna need more guns,” he murmured. He thought for a moment longer, “an’ a guard dog,” he finally decided.

~o~O~o~

As spring arrived a number of the team started discussing setting up their own five-a-side soccer team. There had been talk of a Saturday league being set up, with prizes offered by the company to encourage a sense of community between the various bunk houses.

Both Hector and Malik were firmly behind the idea and soon organized a squad who they had out training or playing every Saturday afternoon, with Cassie as their team mascot, gofer and most enthusiastic supporter. At least once a month the soccer pitch by the rec center resounded to loud squeals of excitement and impromptu cheers.

“Go Leathernecks!”

“Hammer it Hector! Send it home!”

“Yay! Semper Fi guys.”

The first time it happened, Bob Jones was just leaving the management accommodation complex on his way to his office. Surprised, he detoured over to the pitch to see a diminutive figure wrapped up warm with a scarlet and gold scarf jumping up and down in excitement.

“Go Malik go! Give em one for Chesty!”

Bob burst out laughing. With support like that it was no wonder that team twenty-two was one of his top performing teams; both at the complex, and on the pitch.

As the weather warmed up the scarf and thick coat were replaced by a heavy bag laden with bottles of sports drink and chilled towels. The support didn’t waver.

By May the league was approaching its finale and the matches at the rec were regularly drawing a crowd of up to a hundred soccer fans from across the site. ‘The Leathernecks’ had made it through the knock out stages and were now drawn to play Bunk house forty-three in the semi-finals.

When the team trooped onto the pitch, the rest of the house were on the sideline in vocal support. Cassie of course was there with her kit bag and wearing a snug scarlet USMC tee shirt that Michael had reluctantly approved. Alongside them the supporters for forty-three were gathered.

Bunk house forty-three were an all-male crew without any team support. Stanton Hardcastle, their team boss, was a stocky loudmouthed redneck who took pride in his bushy beard. He made a point of giving Cassie a leer that set Wayne’s teeth on edge when he spotted it, before turning his attention back to his players.

“Okay Rockhounds. Ya know what to do. Put these pussies into the deck. I want to see their pretty little girly in tears after you stomp ‘em. Got it?”

“Hell yeah!”

“Now get out there and slam ‘em!”

The first half was brutal. Norman came off with a nasty scrape down his calf and a penalty was awarded to The Leathernecks. Despite the heckling from their supporters, Hector kept his cool and put the ball in the back of the net, while Tony came on to replace Norman on the pitch.

“Fuckin’ Ref’s blind. No way was that a foul! That fuckin' faggot took a dive!”

Wayne bit his lip hard as he finished strapping a dressing to Norman’s leg and laid an ice pack over it. Beside him Cassie continued bouncing up and down, shouting encouragement to her guys.

At the half time whistle Cassie ran out and started handing round chilled towels and bottles.

“You’re doing great guys! They’re on the run.” She happily announced. “Well, as as much as they can run with those spare tires round their waists.” She snickered. More than a few of the opposition glared at her for that comment.

Then the whistle for the second half blew.

Again the match was brutal. While the Leathernecks were both fitter, and played together as a team, the Rockhounds made a point of following up every challenge and tackle hard. The referee didn’t spot when Malik went down and allowed the game to play on. Moments later the Rockhound’s team boss was jumping up and down as the score was leveled.

“Fuckin’ A!” He screamed. “That’s how you do it! Grab em by the balls! Or the tits!”

Without warning he spun round, grabbed Cassie’s growing breasts, and squeezed hard as he laughed.

On the pitch Michael was already in a flat out sprint while Wayne was surging to his feet with fury in his eyes. They both had a perfect view of what happened next.

Even as the attack registered, Cassie’s body was reacting. Two years of daily practice had made her response instinctive as she launched into a sweep and punch combination to the face. It wasn’t a hard punch, but enough to push her assailant off balance to fall over his own sports bag. Then she fell to her knees as the intense pain finally bit home.

“Ah! That fuckin’ bitch broke my ankle. Jeezuz Fuckin’ Kerrist. I’m gonna kick her f’in ass. Where’s that fuckin’ medic?”

It took a while for security and the medics to sort things out. One of the nurses had spirited Cassie away almost immediately, only to return and advise Marco Ribas there was clear evidence of sexual assault. Stanton Hardcastle’s ankle was sprained, not broken, and it had been caused by tripping over his own sports bag. The punch had barely left a mark.

The match was called off and rescheduled for the following Saturday, when hopefully everyone had calmed down.

That evening both Bob Jones and Marco Ribas visited Team Leatherneck.

“Your girl okay Mike?” Bob Jones asked.

“Shaken up and bruised pretty bad… you know… there.”

Bob nodded his understanding.

“Other than that she’s hanging in there. She’s tough, our Cookie.” Mike concluded.

“Yeah, you guys got yourselves a winner there.”

“So what’s going to happen to that jerkwad Hardcastle?”

Mario stepped in there. “That depends on you and your girl. We’ve got enough to charge him with sexual assault. Physical evidence, witnesses and all. But you need to file charges. Hardcastle is already screaming assault and lawyers. He’s been signed off as ‘at fault’ sick for three days so he’s already down seven hundred and fifty bucks.”

Michael looked at the two men. Both were obviously uncomfortable at the thought of dragging it out into open court. “The final say is up to Cassie. But have we got any other options?”

Bob Jones hid his sigh of relief. “If it’s not a criminal matter we can use the ‘conduct prejudicial’ clause in the contract. All parties agree to no legal action by either side, then hit him with a two thousand dollar fine and offer the money as restitution to your team. Can’t give it to your girl directly. She’s not a KM&M employee, nor a contractor.”

Michael gave them both a long cool look. “Let me go ask her.”

He came back down stairs ten minutes later. “She agrees. No charges, no lawyers, agreed in writing, just administrative action.” Michael paused for a moment. “But if Hardcastle tries anything else. Remember, She’s ours.”

Bob Jones knew exactly what he meant.

~o~O~o~

Five of the guys accompanied Cassandra to church the next day. Within moments they were elbowed out of the way as the team ladies replaced them. Many were shocked that Cassie wasn’t pressing charges, until she explained that in Oregon what happened was only considered a misdemeanor. What the company was doing would probably hurt Hardcastle as much, without it all being dragged through the courts. They grumbled about it for a while, but finally agreed they’d have probably done the same.

“The company owes you as well now.” Marie explained later. “The last thing they want is their reputation being damaged with it all going to court and in the papers. The locals are always suspicious of outsiders like us, and a story like that? Well it does none of us any good.”

On Monday morning Michael made a point of taking Cassie to one side before the team headed for work. “Cassie, until that scumbag is back inside the complex during working hours, keep the doors locked and the radio and mace on you at all times. Even inside. Promise me!”

“He can’t be that stupid! And I lock the doors anyway.”

“Cassandra. Being cautious has kept me alive more than once. Just for the next few days while he’s off work okay? Do exactly as I ask. I want your promise on this.”

“Okay ‘Uncle Michael’. I solemnly promise.”

“Good girl.” He gave her a quick hug and set off after the team, checking over his shoulder that she was locking the door as he went.

Cassie dutifully fitted both radio and can to her belt then got on with her chores. At ten o’clock she made herself a mug of tea and headed up to her room to login to school. Her first class was English which she was enjoying, as they were reading Harper Lee’s ‘To Kill a Mockingbird”.

“…in the trial of Tom Robinson we see an echo of the 1931 Scottsboro nine case. Can anyone tell me what happened…”

Downstairs, the sound of breaking glass distracted Cassie from the teacher. She snatched up the radio and hit call channel 1.

“Security? This is Cassie in number twenty-two. I think someone is trying to break in. I’ve just heard glass breaking downstairs…. Yes sir. I’ll stay upstairs and keep my door closed.”

Moments later Cassie heard pounding on the stairs. Nervously she slipped off the safety on her mace can and held it at arm’s length towards the door. A first door slammed open, a second.

Her door sprung wide with a crash. “Got ya now ya little bitch. You fuckin’ owe m… Aaarrgh!”

The stream of purple spray caught the intruder in the center of his black ski mask and spattered into both eyes and mouth. He fell back immediately, almost tumbling down the stairs. Cassie could hear him curse as he staggered through the first floor. “Fuckin’ bitch! I’ll fuckin’ kill her”. Finally she heard the sounds of a vehicle door.

“Cassandra? Cassandra? Can you hear me?” Her English teacher, Miss Kaur, called out urgently.

Cassie saw the video link to school was still live. In a daze she answered. “Uh, yes, sorry ma’am. Excuse me while I open the window. The fumes are a bit strong.” To her surprise her hands and voice were steady. With a shove and a grunt the window sprang wide open and she caught sight of the tail of a black pickup powering away. Then she picked up her radio and hit call channel 1 again.

“Security. The intruder has just left after being hit with Mace… No sir, he was wearing a ski mask…. No I didn’t recognize him…Okay I’ll expect your guys in two minutes.”

She turned back to her laptop. “Sorry ma’am, may I be excused please? I need to get out of the fumes and go speak to Security if that’s okay?”

Lisa Kaur just nodded in shock at her camera. “Yes, I think you better had Cassandra.”

Mario Ribas was waiting for the team as they came off shift. He pointed to the bus. “Get in guys.”

“What’s happened?”

“An unknown assailant broke in to your place. Smashed a pane on the back door and got in that way. Your girl got them in the face with half a can of mace and he ran. I’ve got one of my officers staying with her until I get you guys there.”

Michael was out the door of the bus before it had rolled to a stop.

“Cassie!” He yelled as he powered through the front door.

“Back here Uncle Michael.” He heard her call from the kitchen. As he entered Cassie was just finishing draining a saucepan of potatoes over the sink. He grabbed her as soon as she put the pot down. “Are you okay? Did he touch you? Who was it? If I find out who then I’ll…”

Cassie allowed herself to sag gratefully into his arms. Savoring the warmth and safety of his embrace and the musky male odor of his honest sweat. “I’m safe Uncle Michael.” She let out a long sigh and snuggled in deeper.

When Mario Ribas had told her earlier that he needed to speak to the team, Cassie invited him to join the them for dinner.

“So your Cookie has given us a full statement. She says she can’t identify her attacker because of the ski mask, and didn’t see the vehicle.” He gave Cassie a long stare. “We checked on Hardcastle, but there was no answer from his bunk-house and no one’s seen him all day. Unfortunately the attacker wore gloves so we haven’t any prints or other physical evidence. Even if we did, all we could charge him with right now would be criminal trespass. That’s a Class A misdemeanor in Oregon. Same sort of penalties as we spoke about Saturday.”

Mr. Ribas let out a long sigh. “I guess you guys already have your own ideas ‘bout what to do, so I’m going to lay it out straight here. Proof or no proof, Anything happens inside the complex to Hardcastle, you’re all out and facing charges. Any serious or life threatening injuries on Hardcastle, you’re all out and facing charges. Any damage to his vehicle or property, you’re all out and facing charges. Comprende?”

He watched the team’s hackles begin to rise at his words. He didn’t like saying them. Heck, he wanted to join them. But no way in hell was he allowing any vigilante justice on his site. He was waiting for the first argument, when help came from an unexpected quarter.

“Guys?” Cassie kept her voice soft and low. “Mr. Ribas is quite right, even if we could prove it was Hardcastle, the law wouldn’t do much to him. So that really isn’t an option. Mr. Ribas has also made it very clear what you can’t do. Do you understand?”

Hector was the first to catch on. “Ah, right. Got it hermana pequeña. So we mustn’t do anything in the complex and mustn’t cause any serious injuries or damage his truck. Understood.”

Half an hour later Mario Ribas left a happy smiling team behind him with a full belly. He couldn’t recall eating that well in a long time. He also wanted to feel sorry for Stanton Hardcastle, but honestly? The scumbag had it coming.

Ten minutes after Mario left, the team were all gathered in the living room.

“Cassandra? Why do I get the feeling you didn’t tell Security everything, and you’ve already got a plan?” Michael asked.

“I figured a squad of marines would be more effective than a few part time deputies with their hands tied up by the law, if you’re up for it?”

The snorts and grunts of the team showed what they thought if she’d not invited them to the party.

“Okay, have at least four of you got a set of your old Utilities1? Great! Here’s what I’m thinking…”

Half an hour later Eric Carr let out a long low whistle. “Jeez Cookie, why weren’t you our S32 out in the Sandbox? That’s just…”

“Devious, sneaky, truly nasty, and doesn’t cross a single one of Mario’s lines.” Tony answered. “Cookie I LOVE it!”

“So you think it will work?” Cassie asked the team with a slight smile.

“Hell yes! This’ll be more fun than TP’ing the Principal’s house.” Malik exclaimed. “What?” He looked around when the rest of the team stared at him. “I couldn’t stand the guy okay? You’d have done the same.”

For the rest of the week the entire site held their breath and watched. When nothing happened by Friday night Security began to slowly relax. Obviously Mr. Ribas had put the fear of God into team twenty-two. By Thursday Hardcastle had re-joined his team in the complex, and apart from a slight purple tinge to his skin, seemed no different from always. He even made a point of loudly joshing with his crew whenever they were close to anyone from twenty-two.

On Saturday afternoon the rescheduled soccer match took place. Security was obviously on hand and kept the two sets of supporters on different sides of the pitch. After a hard fought game the Rockhounds snatched a victory. Two - one, with a goal in the last couple of minutes. Hardcastle was shouting his head off from the side lines, crowing about the victory, but for some reason the Leathernecks just smiled and headed quietly home after the match.

“Hey guys let’s get a move on and get back to the bar. It’s time to PARTY!” Hardcastle declared to his triumphant players.

By ten o’clock that evening he’d been cut off. He knew better than to push it, so staggered out into the night.

The last thing he saw were two masked men wearing camoflage, before a strip of duct tape covered his eyes.

Reverend Davies always made a point of getting to his church at least fifteen minutes early on a Sunday morning, so sadly he ended up with the unenviable job of calling Security.

Mario Ribas arrived at five to ten, just as the first of the ladies were arriving for the service.

“Pete! Can’t you do anything to cover him up? There’s ladies present.”

“Sorry boss. We can’t get up there without a ladder. Paddy is out trying to scare one up right now.”

He looked up again at Stanton Hardcastle, completely naked except for a frilly pink thong which hid nothing, pink stockings and a matching garter belt, spread-eagled and cable tied to the roof. Well, he sorta guessed it was Hardcastle. He was missing half his hair, beard and pubes, straight down the middle. His mouth was still duct taped closed, and someone had written some stuff in dark letters all over his face.

Suddenly, the figure started jerking around and mewling into the duct tape like a madman. Mario looked around to find the cause, to see Cassandra Metherick, looking pretty as a picture in a yellow sundress, demurely coming up the road with three of her Leathernecks.

She spotted Mario with apparent surprise. “Oh! Good morning Mr. Ribas! Are you joining us for worship this morning?”

“Unfortunately not ma’am.” He touched his hat politely. “I’m afraid I have work.”

“Oh, that is a shame. Perhaps another time Mr. Ribas?”

“I’ll look forward to it ma’am.”

He tipped his hat again, then watched the four entering the church. Not once had she so much as glanced at the wildly jerking figure on the roof.

At the Ladies’ circle that afternoon the conversation was dominated by one topic.

“They must have been his! The security officer said they were his size…”

“They shaved half of everything. Even his bikini line!”

“‘#43 on one cheek and FAILED RAPIST on the other.”

“Which cheeks?” One of the admin girls tittered.

“I heard both!”

“…and it was done in Henna, it’ll take weeks to come off.”

As the group packed up to leave, Mrs. Dubock sidled over to Cassie.

“Good girl” was all she murmured, then she was off.

A week later Stanton Hardcastle paid his fine, transferred his contract to his deputy in forty-three, and voluntarily terminated his employment, after a YouTube video clip entitled ‘Rooftop Twerking’ went viral. It got over 97,000 hits before being taken down.

Cassie was seriously annoyed at that.

Her bet had been on 100,000 to 105,000.

~o~O~o~

Despite the satisfactory resolution of Hardcastle’s attacks, Michael was unhappy. Even with all of them nearby Cassie had still been vulnerable, and it was only her own quick wits and reflexes that had kept her from being seriously hurt. He also realized that their contract would be over in a little over two years and Cassie’s father would be free by then. On the Monday after Hardcastle’s humiliation, Michael called a team meeting after Cassie had gone to bed.

“Guys, we need to talk about Cookie.”

“You’re not thinking of sending her back!” A wall of outrage met his opening remark.

“Shush! Jeez guys! Her room is directly above us. Keep it down okay? No, I’m not going to suggest anything like that. The opposite in fact.”

“Well? What’s up? She’s doing everything we could ask, and then a whole lot more.” Hector challenged Michael.

“No, it’s not that either. Jeez, give me a chance okay?” Michael took a deep breath. “Look, we’ve had two close calls already with that Hardcastle a’hole. And this contract will be over in a bit over two years yeah? The problem is Cassie’s dad will be out by then. And the Johansson kid’s brother is already out there.” The team had settled down by now, and were nodding along with Michael’s thoughts. “So Malik gave me the idea in February. Remember when we took her shopping?” Brandon gave a little whimper and sunk deeper into the couch. “At dinner Malik said we’d need more guns and a dog now she’s getting…. she’s…”

Wayne took pity on him. “Growing up.”

“Yeah, thanks Wayne… growing up. So I was sorta thinking we’ve got two more years with her. We ought to be teaching her some more stuff to help keep her safe after we finish here. Get her the gear an all.”

“So what are you thinking Mike?”

“Well, first we could get her a puppy. A German Shepherd or something like that. In two years it’ll be big enough and trained enough to be a decent guard dog.”

Eric butted in. “You all know what she’ll call the mutt don’t you?”

After the laughter settled, with Michael making vigorous shushing signs and pointing at the ceiling, he continued. ”Then we buy her a pistol and makes sure she learns how to use it. I know it isn’t legal for her to own one ’til she’s twenty-one but…”

“What sort were you thinking? Not that M9 piece of shit?” Tony asked.

“And what would you suggest wise guy?” Malik immediately responded. “Some fancy toy like that Walther of yours that keeps jamming?”

“Whoa! Guys, hold the NRA chatroom a bit. We can discuss makes and models another time. Right now does everyone think it’s a good idea?”

Again Michael got a round of head nods.

“Okay, we’ll speak to Mario and Bob Jones about where the security team shoot and get approval to have a pet on site. Josh you still solid with your martial arts? Think you could teach her something?”

“That’s not a bad idea Mike. I need experience teaching a student as part of my progression. Yeah I can do that. Cookie got any experience?”

“Two years of Southern Five Families style Kung Fu. She got to Brown belt.”

“In two years? Hell yeah I can teach her.”

“Next up, Wayne? I’d be happier if she had a solid grounding in First Aid. Maybe some battlefield trauma management. What do you think?”

“Mike, if you hadn’t suggested it, I would. Yeah I’d be happy to teach her enough to keep someone alive.”

“Right! That should do for now until I’ve spoken with management. Any questions?”

“Mike, guns and puppies aren’t cheap….” Norm started.

“They are when that jerkwad Stanton Hardcastle is buying them for us. He owes us two grand remember?”

Over the next few weeks Cassie seemed to keep on walking into conversations that suddenly ended when she arrived, even when they sounded more like arguments. She also spotted Michael disappearing in his pick-up a couple of times at the weekends, claiming he had ‘chores’ to do in Ontario. By the end of the month she was getting paranoid. So when Michael said they were going for a drive after finishing the weekly grocery shopping, Cassie was understandably nervous.

“Um, Uncle Michael? Where are we going?” She asked as they headed east from Caldwell.

“It’s a surprise.”

“Um, I’m not sure if I’m in the mood for surprises. I mean, all you guys have been going into huddles and having conversations behind my back for weeks. Are you guys planning on sending me back to LA? Am I too much trouble?” Cassie’s voice started to quiver.

“Huh?” Michael’s head snapped round and the truck weaved across the highway. “Shit!” He pulled his attention back to the road as he yanked the wheel to straighten up. “No! No, it’s nothing like that, I promise. We want you with us. It’s a nice surprise.”

He glanced over again to see the tears forming in Cassandra’s eyes. “Shit, we really didn’t think this one through did we?” He shook his head at his own stupidity. “Cassie, Cross my heart, absolute promise. We want you with us. All of us. We worry about you. I told you, you’re ours.”

“But you were all whispering, and looking at me funnily, and refused to say anything. What was I supposed to think?” Cassie sniffled.

Michael grimaced. “As I said, not one of our smartest decisions. Cassie, it was because we wanted this to be a surprise for you.” He sighed and pulled over to the side of the highway.

“Cm’ere kiddo.” Michael opened his arms. “The team. ALL the team have been involved in this. Because all the team want you with us kiddo. You’re not going anywhere.” He held her tight for a long moment. “Now, do you think you can dry your tears and be patient for another fifteen minutes?”

“I guess.”

Michael gave her a further quick hug and re-buckled his belt before pulling back onto the highway.

When they pulled up outside a large suburban home they were greeted by a storm of barking dogs.

“Uh, is this safe? Are we supposed to be here?”

Michael grinned. “Absolutely. I’ve been here a couple of times already, come on.” Then he grabbed her hand and pulled her with him to the front door.

“Hi there Mike. Right on time! And this is the little lady? Howdy Miss.” A large knurled hand shot out to enthusiastically grip hers. “I’m Jake Carruthers. The missus is out back slopping out. Down Pluto.” Cassie yelped as a cold wet nose shoved itself under her sundress. “I said DOWN ya mutt. Sorry ‘bout that. Pluto’s jus’ be’in friendly. Come on in.” Mr. Carruthers must have been as old as Grampa had been, but his eyes sparkled as he led them into the messy living room. “Now missy, Mike’s tol’ me about what happened and ya couldn’t have made a better choice. Their dam loves kids. One of her get is with my grandson right now. Tryin to keep the little tyke outta mischief.” He chuckled. “But their sire now. Whoowee! Brutus was the top K9 in the Boise PD three years runnin’. Now missy, come on here and take a look.”

Finally, Mr. Carruthers fell silent and pointed to a wire pen in the corner of the living room.

Cassie nervously glanced to Michael, only to receive a grinning nod and a shooing motion with his hands. She turned back to the pen just as two floppy ears popped out of the pile of fur. They were followed by a glistening black nose and two bright button eyes that pierced straight into her.

“Choose one Cassie. This is your surprise.” Michael murmured in her ear.

“Really? Truly?” Cassie asked, unable to tear her gaze from the inquisitive bundle of fur in front of her.

“Cross my heart promise.”

She dropped to her knees and stuck her finger through the cage for it to be licked by a rough little tongue.

Cassie giggled softly as Mr. Carruthers scooped up the puppy and gently set it down in her lap.

“I think he’s chosen me.”

Picture Credit: Ross G. Strachan

“Have you folks gotten a name picked out yet?” Mr. Carruthers asked.
Cassie just looked up at Michael, even as the puppy continued to chew at her finger. “You already know his name.” She smiled.

~o~O~o~

Note 1. Utilities – Refers to the Marine Corps Combat Utility Uniform (MCCUU). A camouflage pattern uniform designed for use in the field.

Note 2. S3 – A military function designation referring to Operations and Training. In this case an S3 would also be described as an Operations Officer.