

FIGHTING FEAR

Ricardo Aardal

©2019

ONE

"Got your direction?" Margaret Willis asks as she guides a man who is blind off the crowded city bus. She juggles grocery bags in one hand, attempting to shelter the sightless man from being trampled.

He nods his head. "Thanks Margaret. And keep your dream alive!" He swishes his laser white cane as he heads out into the shoving horde and the ear piercing noise.

"And thank you for all your help," the good hearted Margaret yells back, cringing as he becomes swallowed by the masses on the busy San Jose sidewalk. She shakes her head in amazement, thinking how San Jose rush hour has become more frantic over her lifetime, more like a no rules rugby game. The 55 year old Margaret speeds down San Carlos Street. She flashes her disarming smile as she weaves along the elbow bashing sidewalk. She wears a cleaning staff uniform, grateful her workday is over. She comes up behind four tattoo laden teenage girls. They move at a snail's pace, focusing on their all encompassing cellphones. Unaware they block her path, unaware they block many people's paths. For they live in their own world.

"Excuse me girls," says Margaret in her naturally cheerful tone.

The first teenage girl juts out her tongue at Margaret, ensuring her mega sized silver tongue ring gleams in the sunshine. "What's the hurry old lady?"

Margaret continues flashing her winning smile. "Responsibilities girls."

The tongue earring teenager maintains her slow pace, letting out a mocking laugh. "Not, got boos."

The second purple haired teenage girl shouts out, "And our hunky boos so sweet!"

"Our men treat these hotties like the princesses we are," the tongue ring girl adds. She looks at the name tag on Margaret's uniform. "Doesn't yours Margaret?"

The older lady graces the group with a knowing wink. "You'll find out soon enough." The girls part for Margaret and she flies by, grocery bags flapping in the breeze. "Thanks ladies."

Margaret pushes open a creaking door of a small rundown San Jose apartment 15 minutes later. Her keys jingle and those grocery bags tumble to the floor. She spots her lover and live in boyfriend for the past three years, Chad Little. He's a 46 year old, handsome, freelance software engineer. He hunches over on the living room sofa pounding on his laptop.

In addition, Margaret's two grandchildren live with the couple in the crowded three bedroom apartment. Although, each bedroom is more the size of a broom closet. But this second story apartment with plumbing issues, heating challenges, and ugly frayed 1970s carpet, is all they can afford. Cash is tight as Margaret's the legal guardian of ten year old Lisa and six year old Tyler. She's carried that responsibility for her only grandchildren, ever since that fateful day.

The dark featured Chad prepares to rise. "Hello Margaret. Let me help."

"Keep programming Chad." An exhausted Margaret walks up behind him, giving Chad a hug from behind while he returns to his keyboard pounding.

"Glad you're home" Chad says. "Bloody storm's coming into the Bay area. How's work?"

"Woman's Shelter was crazy." The five foot five lady revels in the hug and the sound of his British accent which seems to sooth her aching body, along with the sweet smelling lilies she grows on their deck and spreads throughout the apartment.

"They overwork you down there."

"True Chad." She reflects on her 20 years at the shelter providing cleaning and cooking services along with a whole lot more. Her job pays minimal, long hours and no room for advancement. But that shelter job saved her life, and it almost covers the bills with two growing grandchildren. "How's Lisa and Tyler?"

"Doing homework."

"How's the Fear Saver going?"

Chad holds up a metal wristband. "Testing the prototype tonight."

"You're a genius."

Margaret contemplates on how that insightful blind man helped her build her dream as they rode the bus over the past few weeks. The out-of-town dream coach was working with one of the big startup firms in the Bay area. So on his commute, he coached her for free through the five enlightening phases in his own dream coaching process called the DREAM model. Margaret thought how he seamlessly and skillfully guided her through those five phases: D - Designing Your Dream; R - Reality Scan; E - Energizing Goals; A - Action Stepping Stones; M - Motivation Beyond Achievement.

Each night she talked over her progress on the DREAM model with Chad. Each Chad chat brought them closer to their startup dream, becoming real, and becoming their shared dream. She cheers in the thought of those fun and life changing bus discussions with the blind man. She even heard others on the bus call him the Dream Guru. She thinks how that makes sense, for he guided her to a refreshing and realistic approach toward an exciting new dream.

Chad yells, "Kids, your grandmother's home!"

Margaret's two grandchildren yell, scampering out of separate bedrooms. Lisa and Tyler head straight for their grandmother. The confident outspoken Lisa, who wears a 'Future Is Feminist' sweatshirt, receives the first hug. The shy Tyler joins in the group hug a few seconds later.

"Never stop giving grandma these love you hugs. Time to make dinner."

"Chad made it," Lisa informs. "Yours is warming in the oven."

"Thanks Chad. But I haven't cooked dinner once this week. Was my turn?"

A Golden State Warrior hat wearing Tyler pats Chad on the shoulder. "This dude can cook."

Lisa tousles Chad's ponytail. "And Grandma, Chad taught me how to create a basic app on my cell."

"And he's gonna teach me next," chimes in Tyler.

With Margaret's award winning smile lighting up the room, she gives Chad another hug. "That Chad sure's special."

"Yeah," Lisa and Tyler agree as they make it a smothering group hug.

A few hours later Dara Anderson cowers on the floor beside a kingsize bed in an immaculate master bedroom of a multimillion dollar San Jose mansion. Tears roll down the 30 year old petite lady's cheeks. Those tears drip on to her elegant, yet dishevelled baby blue silk dress.

Her six foot four, heavy set husband towers over her, fists clenched. Robert Anderson wears a permanent sinister scowl, freakishly thin lips, a Harry Rosen dark suit with his standard red power tie. The sounds of a rare San Jose thunderstorm that just rolled in, rages outside. A lightening flash streams through the huge bedroom window.

"You embarrassed me Dara."

Her left eye twitches. "I'm, I'm sorry Robert. Didn't mean to."

The 42 year old Robert steps closer to Dara. "I'm a powerful man in Silicon Valley." He leans down, grabs her, shaking her hard. "And nobody, but nobody, questions me. Especially my wife!"

She throws her hands up, covering her face. "Sorry, sorry Robert!"

"Learn your place. You're fucking scum." He shoves her to the floor. His angry eyes bore into her.

The blue eyed, blonde lady cowers even lower. "I'm so, so sorry."

Robert whips off his pride and joy Rolex watch, slipping it in his pocket, raising his massive hand. "I'll teach you."

Her tears accelerate. "No please, please Robert. Luke will hear."

"Shut your mouth." A crack of thunder sounds as Robert slaps her across the face. Her scream reverberates through the house.

The couples five year old son opens the door and scampers into the bedroom. He hugs his mom. The couple's only child demonstrates a protective aura toward his mother.

Defiantly, he glares at his father. "Leave Mommy alone."

Robert grasps the blonde haired Luke, delivering a whack on the struggling lad's bum, throwing him out of the bedroom.

Dara sits up, gaining a sliver of strength from Luke's defiance. "Leave Luke alone."

A hooked nose Robert sneers. He slams the bedroom door. "Dara, I told you to shut the fuck up." The enraged redhead strides back to his wife, rips off her priceless necklace. He hurls it against the wall. "You're nothing without me!" He makes a fist, and hits her with a withering backhand. The blow hurls her across the room. Blood gushes from her face. "I'll be back to finish," he snatches her cell phone off a night table. "And you'll not be calling that mysterious friend I've never even approved of."

Another flash of lightening illuminates Dara's tears, trickling blood and a look of utter fear. Her eye twitches at a record rate. Robert exits. Dara hears the turn of a key from the outside, locking her inside like a caged animal. She lets all her tears flow freely. She wonders if this nightmare will ever end? Wondering if she can end it herself?

TWO

In the apartment living room that same evening Margaret squirms on the sofa, fidgeting and fussing with her hands. Chad fastens a metal bracelet called the Fear Saver to her wriggling wrist. Lisa and Tyler hover close to their grandmother. Excitement overflows from their young bodies. The sound of heavy rain hammers on the window, enhancing Margaret's tension.

Lisa's expressive brown eyes give the wristband a cynical once over. "What does that ugly bracelet like thing you guys built actually do?"

"Your grandmother and I designed a wristband for abuse victims with functionality involving: detection, communications, defence and potential attack features."

Tyler tips his Warrior lid, winks and snickers. "Can I play games on it too?"

"You idiot of a boy," Lisa scolds her little brother. "The males of the world are in trouble with tools like you around." She points to her treasured 'Future Is Feminist' sweatshirt. "Us girls will save the world."

"Hit it Tyler," Chad says.

Tyler does a jig as he presses a remote and a horror movie comes on the TV.

Margaret shutters, twisting a lock of her brunette hair. "I hate scary shows! Wish this was: 'This Is Us." A crack of thunder rumbles through the apartment. "Hate thunderstorms too." She grabs a fuzzy pink pillow, squeezing it tight.

Chad types on his computer. "First test of FS. The sensory technology built into the wristband will monitor your fear level. After attaining a critical level an alarm should activate."

"So get real scared Grandma," orders Lisa.

Minutes pass as Margaret's anxiousness level increases while watching the show. She hugs her comforting pillow the entire time. Chad bends over his computer at a side desk, studying it intensely. A loud crack of thunder rocks Margaret. An alarm blasts out on the computer, sending the room into chaos.

Lisa and Tyler jump like jellybean filled jackrabbits and yell, "It worked! It worked!"

Margaret clutches her heart. "Oh my God!"

"FS picked up your fear at the appropriate level," informs Chad.

Margaret exhales, covering her ears from the high pitched alarm. "That's amazing. Chad the alarm. Tyler please turn off that awful show."

Tyler turns off the TV. "Ah Grandma, show's just heating up."

Chad switches off the alarm.

"Thanks guys. The way it sensed my fear. Wow. How does it really work? And keep it simple Chad."

"For this first test FS was monitoring your electrodermal activity. Also known as skin conductance, along with your motion activity. An extremely advanced stress monitor. But then I added a more advanced monitoring capability involving tone, smell and energy flow, etc."

"Enough! Enough!" Margaret pretends to cover her ears this time.

"FS can do a lot more," Chad says. "For example, it will immediately patch you to a 24/7 two way Abuse Counselling and Emergency Response service." He talks into a mike on his computer. His voice comes through loud and clear on the wristband Margaret wears. "This is Fear Saver. Are you in danger?"

Margaret speaks into the wristband, "Yes, I'm about to have a heart attack." Margaret, Lisa and Tyler scream and enjoy a group hug.

"No more, no more," Dara Anderson blubbers out as she bursts through the front door of a San Jose woman's shelter the next morning. She hides a black eye under her Maui Jim sunglasses. Multiple visible cuts and bruises are on open display. She wears the blood stained ripped dress from last night. A trembling Luke clings to her.

Margaret drops her mop, setting aside her bucket, racing to greet them with open arms. "Oh Dara, let's get you cleaned up." Margaret grabs a tissue and begins wiping dried blood from the battered lady's face.

"We had to escape," explains Dara. "Luke unlocked the door for me." Her tears start to flow now that she's in a safe place.

Luke tugs at Margaret's sleeve. "Daddy went crazy last night. When Daddy left this morning, I snuck in his den and took the bedroom key. Even though Nanny said not to."

Margaret kneels down, looking Luke directly in his blue eyes that match his mother's. Gently, she places one hand on his shoulder. "You're such a brave soul. My hero." Luke sheds a tear, hugging Margaret for all he's worth.

"He's my little hero too," Dara says. "And I'm never going back."

Margaret rises. She studies Dara's cuts and bruises. "Oh I hope not. But you said that last time."

Two hours later Margaret quivers in a cramped office in front of a beaten up old wooden desk across from Andrea Cooper. She's a prim and properly dressed, stern faced, African American temporary Executive Director of the woman's shelter. Her office walls smell of fresh paint, and are decorated with her diplomas and awards.

"I spoke to Robert Anderson's lawyer," Andrea pronounces in her authoritarian tone. "Robert will pick up Dara and Luke in the morning."

Margaret grips the arm of her rickety old chair. Her new boss has intimidated her from the first day she walked in. But this statement from Andrea feels all wrong to Margaret. "No, no Andrea. She can't go back."

Andrea's eyebrow rises in surprise. For the meek Margaret has never delivered any fight in her voice since she's taken this assignment. "Dara wants to go back. Robert has also given the shelter a sizeable donation, if we can be discrete about this incident." Andrea adjusts her wire rim glasses. "And you know we need the funds. And there's one, and only one reason, the powers that be asked me to come into this hellhole." She waves a disgusted hand at her shabby surroundings. "To clean up this financial mess."

"I know. But we have to stop her. And stop Robert from being Robert. Shouldn't even be allowed in here."

Andrea's surprise in Margaret's jam, changes to hostility. "You're not thinking clearly Margaret Willis. We can make exceptions in this case. Besides Robert's agreed to counselling."

"But it's Dara's sixth time here. He's just playing the game. He'll do it again."

Andrea points to her diplomas. "I don't think you're qualified to make any judgement of that nature."

"But."

"As Executive Director of this Shelter. I make those decisions."

"But Andrea, we can give her the Fear Saver." Margaret pulls out the wristband and sets it on the scratched desk.

"Not this again." A disgusted look fills Andrea's face. "Get that thing out of here. Like I told you the first time, there is no way that thing will help anyone."

Margaret reflects on the first and only time she showed the Fear Saver to Andrea, and how rude her new boss acted. She sent her away with her tail between her trembling legs. "Early detection Andrea. Please, let's try it."

"We have no legal right to pilot a technology of that nature."

"Limit or maybe stop the beating before it starts."

Andrea folds her arms over her chest. "No. End of discussion."

"But it may save lives."

"You're too emotionally involved. You former abuse victims, you're all the same." Andrea rises, wagging a threatening finger. "Do not ever bother me with this again." She points that finger at the door. "Get back to work."

"But."

"Margaret, if I see that thing around here again. You're fired."

THREE

An hour later Margaret comforts Dara in the shelter's sitting room which hasn't been introduced to fresh paint in 40 years. They share a tattered sofa in front of a coffee table that holds a cracked vase full of Margaret's fresh lilies. Nasty bruises and bandages cover Dara's face and body. Those sunglasses continue to hide her black eye along with a skittish look of utter terror. Margaret holds both of Dara's hands. The two whisper in hushed tones. A damaged grandfather clock ticks in the background.

"You don't have to go back," Margaret insists.

Dara shivers and speaks softly, "I must. Not all Robert's fault."

"Damn right it's his fault."

"But Luke, he needs a father."

"Not that kind of father."

"He'll be a good father. Just needs time." Dara looks down. "And, and I need Robert."

"You don't need him."

Dara rearranges the multicoloured lilies into a beautiful pattern. "I'm so, so useless. How would I support myself and Luke?"

"Be fine. You're smart and talented. Please don't."

Dara worked as a junior graphic designer when she first met Robert. He insisted she quit upon their quick engagement. Each year he crushed her confidence in her skills and abilities in all areas, especially her chosen career. He also insisted she sign a prenuptial agreement. He boasts to all his buddies that the agreement is ironclad, and gives her little if she leaves him.

"I'm useless, useless, useless! Robert's right!"

Margaret clasps Dara's hands. "But you've won awards for your designs."

"That was way back." Dara rips her hands away from Margaret's. "Stop, stop. I'm going back. End of discussion."

"But Robert."

Dara fondles her three carat ring. "Robert does love me in his way." She sheds a tear, burying her head in her hands. "Just with each hit, he goes a little crazier. Then when he sees blood." She shrivels into a ball with her left eye twitching under her sunglasses. "He, he loses it."

"Robert needs major help."

"Will, will counselling teach him to have control over himself?"

Margaret thinks how Dara's stuttering has increased each time she returns to the shelter. "Oh I hope counselling helps. But we're always here for you."

Margaret reaches in her pocket, pulling out the Fear Saver wristband. She holds it for a long moment. Her brain races, attempting to weigh the pros and cons of what she's thinking.

Dara peeks up. "What's that?"

Another long pause as Margaret wrestles with her conflicting thoughts. The grandfather clock hits the half hour chime. Margaret swallows hard as she decides. Dara dabs at her tears rolling down her cheek with a tissue.

"Oh, nothing Dara." Margaret shoves the wristband back in her pocket.

"Robert will be so upset I came here."

"Why?"

"He, he hates my mysterious friend from the shelter," admits Dara. "He knows I've shared so much with someone here. There's just no one else I can turn to."

Dara thinks how of all the people she knows, Margaret's the one who actually understands the depth of her fear, the depth of her helplessness, and the depth of her desperation. And that warm touch and magical smile of Margaret's gives her that sliver of hope. That hope's pretty much died in her. But she just can't end it yet.

"Let's go Dara," Robert commands as he strides into the room carrying his own pompous atmosphere. Upon seeing Robert, Dara looks down with her eye twitch accelerating under those sunglasses. Andrea and Luke follow one step behind Robert. Upon seeing his mother, Luke scampers into her arms.

"All is in order," the vain Robert pronounces. "Dara, you are free to go."

"Time to move forward," adds Andrea.

"Let's just put this little misunderstanding behind us," Robert insists. "Luke will cause I'm buying him a puppy. Just like the one I had when I was little. And we're stopping at Dara's exclusive jewelry store on the way home." He pulls Dara's cellphone out of his suit pocket. "Oh and you foolish girl! You forgot your cell. Here it is." He slaps the phone in Dara's hand. "When are you going to learn?"

Dara slips the cell in her purse. A quick thought flashes in her mind. Should she point out his cellphone lie? For she is in a safe place. She fiddles with a diamond bracelet gifted to her after a previous beating, and that was an extremely painful one. Any thought of calling Robert out, flees quickly. She lowers her head, remembering she'll be alone with him at home soon.

Margaret cringes at the innuendoes and Robert's lie. Dara told Margaret and Andrea he took her cell away from her last night. Margaret fumes, hoping Andrea will say something to stop this obvious charade. Andrea wrings her hands, wishing these people would leave. She wants to bask in the huge donation sitting in the Woman's Shelter bank account, wanting to brag to her superiors, getting her one step closer from escaping this dump.

Robert holds up his car fob and carries on, "And I even came to pick you two up in my favourite Mercedes. Didn't even use my driver. And Luke gets to sit in the front on the way home." He tosses the fob to Luke who catches it. "Yes, we all can learn from this."

Margaret clenches her hands together. This is the first time she's met this man, how she despises him. Rage flows through her veins. She's never spoke like this to any alpha male, but this red headed beast is too much. He also reminds her of her ex-husband in some ways. He snarls and growls when he talks, and fills the room with that aggressive animal like smell similar to her ex-husband. "What have you learned Robert? That you can buy and lie your way out of anything."

"Quiet Margaret," Andrea scolds.

Margaret glares at Robert. He shoots daggers back with his sinister black eyes, taking in her name tag. Instantly, he knows this is the mysterious friend. He now is aware of the first name of the shelter worker that knows way too much. His face floods with a deranged anger. He makes a purposeful fist.

At seeing that nightmare raising fist, Margaret caves and looks down with her right leg shaking uncontrollably. For the other memory of her ex-husband and his punishing fists remains in her mind. First his fist, then her leg shaking, and finally a prolonged dive into utter hell.

Dara shuts her eyes, imagining last night's pain. She opens her aching eyes, flinching as she peeks at Robert's fist. "Let's, let's, let's go Luke." She stands and prepares to depart. Clearly, the tilt of her battered head, quivering lips, and her trembling hands, indicates her extreme fear level at returning to the mansion.

Margaret receives hugs from Dara and Luke. While Margaret hugs Luke she slips a note with her phone number in his pocket. She then squeezes Dara's hand, trying to calm the frightened lady. Margaret's lived through this experience many times, wanting to scream at the world for this injustice Dara's facing.

Andrea speaks loudly, attempting to break up the never-ending hug, "Yes, you and Luke are free to go. And we're always here if you have any questions."

Robert seizes Dara's arm firmly. "Won't be any need for that. We're going to be the perfect family from now on." He squeezes her arm hard. "Right Dara?"

FOUR

Margaret and Chad cuddle close together on their squeaky living room sofa a week later with wine glasses in hand. Margaret feels tired and drained. She props her feet up on the coffee table with her head on his shoulder. She loves this connection with this ponytail wearing rebel from Liverpool, never had anything like it. She can share the good, the bad and the really ugly.

"Work's been hell," Margaret confesses.

"Anything I can do?"

Margaret enjoys a sip of her wine and sighs. "No. I'll get through it."

"Andrea still being a proper hag?"

"Hasn't spoken to me since Dara went back."

"Rather juvenile on her part!"

"Wished I'd given Dara the Fear Saver."

"Really shouldn't." Chad scoots forward with excitement. "But I've been down in the pit again today. Smashing news! Made even more progress on our dream."

"We're lucky our landlord let's you keep your mad scientist workbench locked away down there."

He sets down his wine glass, pulling the wristband out of his pocket. "Please take the wristband and point it at me."

Chad's enthusiasm runs high. He's always wanted to be a cofounder in a successful startup, not like his previous ventures. He gets that super startup fever in these early stages. Except, when the going gets tough, something comes over him, something he can't explain, something he wants to correct.

Margaret puts down her wine glass. Cautiously, she eases that wristband out of Chad's hand like it is a super hot potato. Chad stands. He takes two large steps, turns and faces her with a playful gleam in his eye. "All right then Margaret, please point the red light at me."

"What's gonna happen?"

"Not to fret. I've the voltage turned low."

"I'm not gonna zap you."

"Come on Margaret. Please, hit me with your best shot." He steps to his computer, plays the Pat Benatar song. "Just listen to the tune."

Margaret shakes her head.

"Come on, please Margaret."

Reluctantly, she holds up the wristband and points it at Chad.

"Now press the little red button."

She grimaces as she hits that red button. A zapping sound fills the room. He flops to the floor, convulsing in pain from the electrical shock.

"Chad, Chad are you okay?" She scurries to his side.

He groans in pain. "Oh shit. Had it turned up higher than I thought."

"You could have been seriously hurt."

"Main thing my lady, it works. And that was a jolly good jolt."

"Don't like this feature."

"Controversial, but required."

"But Chad, we'll never get that feature approved."

He sits up, flashing a forced smile. "Worth a go. Wait till you see what else I'm working on."

She rolls her wary eyes. "What else?"

"It'll blow your mind. An electronic shield that will protect the wrist band wearer from a physical attack."

"That's crazy."

"Very possible. Needs a lot of work." The software engineer clears his throat, taking on a serious look and tone. "We're at a point where having some seed money could move the process along much quicker." He rises to his feet slowly with an awkward sigh.

"Where would we get the money?"

"Billions of bucks in this valley. Someone can help us." Chad hobbles to his wine glass, picks it up, taking a sip.

"How much?"

"We need millions to test, get approval, manufacture, etc., but one step at a time. Three hundred grand to start."

"How do we?"

"I know the people. But you my fare lady, have to be the front person."

Margaret shakes her head frantically.

"You'll have to, if we want FS to be a reality."

"Why?"

Chad consumes a reflective drink from his wine glass, tormenting memories flashing through his brain. "The way the tech rags have written about me over the years." He hangs his head, shuffles his fee and mumbles, "My name is shit in Silicon Valley."

"Came as soon as I got your urgent text," a panicking Margaret says as she bursts through Andrea's squeaking office door the following morning. She plants herself in front of a brand new shiny desk across from a somber Andrea who perches in a new executive leather chair. Margaret peeks at the new office furniture and the two new pictures on the wall. Her eyes widen in surprise at the expenditures. Especially, when there's more important issues to address such as a shelter heating system that works, a stove and fridge that work, mattresses that aren't 20 years old, and the list goes on.

"I'm sorry to have to call you in to my office under these circumstances."

"What circumstances? What's the matter?"

Andrea touches her new desk for strength. "Dara Anderson was descending the staircase at her home. She accidentally fell."

"Oh, no." Margaret leans closer, gripping the arm of the same old rickety chair Andrea's visitors still sit in. "What hospital's she at? What's her room number?"

"Dara didn't survive the fall. Died immediately."

Margaret gasps, putting her hands to her face. "No, no, not Dara." She begins to cry. Her initial tears fill the room along with an eery silence.

Andrea shoves a box of tissues toward her, wishing Margaret would simply leave.

"Poor Luke!" Margaret grabs a tissue, hangs her head in devastation, continuing to shed tears.

Andrea fidgets with her hands through the awkward silence. "Yes, of course. A terrible accident. The Nanny and Robert were witness to the unfortunate incident."

Margaret gazes up at her boss. She stops crying and begins wiping her eyes.

Andrea squirms uncomfortably, clearing her throat before she speaks, "Robert is very upset."

Margaret continues to wipe her tears, takes an exhausting breath. Gives Andrea an unsettling glare.

Miss Cooper feels like bolting from the office. "An unfortunate accident."

Margaret's glare turns to outright anger. "Bullshit! And you know it."

Andrea shrinks in her chair a fraction, whispering, "Just an unfortunate accident." She admires her diplomas and awards. Her voice gains strength, "Now let's get back to work."

Early that evening Chad focuses at a crude high-tech workbench in his pit in the basement of their apartment building. The small well-lit room holds tons of high tech equipment. Tools are scattered about with electrical wires hanging from the ceiling. Chad toils to his favourite band, The Beatles. Margaret enters the room with a devastated heart. For the tears haven't stopped since the sad news was delivered.

He peeks up. "What is it?" He turns off the four lads from Liverpool.

A drawn faced Margaret collapses into an old chair next to the workbench. "Dara Anderson is dead." Her stomach wrenches. "And it's my fault." She releases another round of tears.

Chad grasps her grieving hand. "What'd you mean your fault?"

"Could have given her the Fear Saver. I didn't. Now she's dead."

"Can't blame yourself Margaret."

"But I do. Just like that other." She covers her face with her hands. Margaret finds some intestinal fortitude as she wipes her tears. "We're going ahead with the Fear Saver. Line up the people I need to talk to. I owe it to Dara and Luke." She makes a fist. "And someone needs to stop that bastard."

An expansive church front steps where Robert shows a grieving husband face while receiving condolences from a line of people paying their respects. A red eyed Luke stands next to his father. Margaret waits next in line. Upon spying her, Luke races to the warm heart. He gives the lady a massive hug. No words are spoken. Evident to all that the two possess a strong connection.

Robert scowls at his son. "Luke! Get back in line."

Luke continues to hug Margaret, gripping her as if she's a life preserver.

"Right now," Robert growls.

Luke shuffles back in line. Robert shakes Margaret's hand. While leaning in close, firmly holding on to her elbow, he snarls, "Listen Bitch. Stay away from my kid."

Shock fills Margaret's body. She swallows hard. "Sorry for your loss. Dara was a wonderful person. So, so is Luke."

"Heard from Andrea you have some sort of toy for abuse victims." Robert smiles mirthlessly and continues to speak in low tones for only Margaret's ears, "I'll do everything I can to put an end to any such toy."

Margaret attempts to move on. But Robert holds on tight to her elbow. "You're hurting me."

He points his abusive finger at her, flashing his wolf like smile. "Good! And more to come. For I will put an end to the mystery bitch."

FIVE

With Chad's help, Margaret reached out to countless Silicon Valley players. Her first meeting in regard to the Fear Saver is about to unfold over her lunch hour. Margaret meets at a quiet corner table in the aquarium like coffee room at the office of the largest startup incubator firm in the Silicon Valley. Perching across from Margaret is a twenty year old Jill Kowalski. She's an energetic and ever moving business analyst with the largest venture capital incubator firm in Silicon Valley. Two giant coffee mugs surround the Fear Saver on the table as the bright sunshine causes both people to squint.

"Mr. Little is my dad's BFF," Jill says. "That's why I'm doing this."

"Thank you Jill for taking the time."

"Yeah, sure." Jill focuses on the phone in her hand while talking at breakneck speed, "Never met with a perspective startup led by someone so."

Margaret's eyebrows dart up. "So?"

Jill carries on working at her phone while bouncing in her chair. "Well, you know. My Grandmother barely can send an email."

"Can do that Jill."

"Good on you! But I can't believe that anyone would need this." Jill picks up the wristband. "My boo's so sweet."

"Abuse is a major issue."

Jill pulls a disgusted face. "We really like to take on startups that can make a positive difference to the world. Like clean air, healthy food, connecting friends. Like that. Like this thing promotes violence. We're all about peace and love."

"But Jill, what about protecting abuse victims."

Jill rolls her uninterested eyes as she taps her foot at breakneck speed. "The media hypes abuse. Is it really an issue?"

"Want the stats?"

Jill pulls another disgusted face, continuing to focus on her phone. "Ooh, No. Icky. Not for us. Sounds like more of an old person thing."

A full of himself Angel Investor named Brad Goldberg fills a luxurious black leather chair in an expansive artwork-laden office. He props his feet on his dark oak desk. He studies the Fear Saver wristband. He's known as a shrewd Silicon Valley up and comer. Brad parades about town in the trendiest of clothes and cars. Another lunch hour meeting as Margaret waits patiently for the 29 year old to speak, almost gagging from the man's musky nose wrinkling cologne.

"Only reason I agreed to see you is cause Chad got me started in the game." Brad holds up the wristband. "But, about this. You can't be serious Martha."

"Excuse me, my name's Margaret."

Brad issues a dismissive wave of his well manicured hand. "Whatever! The point is that this concept is ridiculous. You're wasting my valuable time. Go back to cleaning toilets for those women who just want a holiday from their hubbies."

"But, this can make a difference."

"Don't invest in saving the world garbage. No money in abuse." He glances at his office door, where on the other side of that door, his attractive female executive assistant sits. His lusting glow shows on his face. "Me Too movement makes me sick."

"But."

"Can't believe Chad's wasting time on this. Did he ever get off the drugs?"

"He's clean."

"Your man's been fired more then anyone in the Valley." Brad tosses the wristband back on the desk. He stands abruptly. "Fucking crap!"

Margaret rises tentatively, lowering her head, attempting to hide her disappointment. "I, I am sorry for wasting your time."

"Some advice. This is a young mans game."

Margaret leaves the office, closing the door behind her.

Brad grabs his cell, making a call. "Have I got an idea? And Chad Little's still a fucking genius."

Margaret quivers in a cold glass-walled office at a San Jose branch of the largest bank in the United States. A sterile looking desk separates her from a pristinely dressed twenty-five year old banker, Winthrop T. Allen III. He attended an Ivy League school. He worked back east for a couple of years. Winthrop made his way west to manage this branch, and to be closer to his boyfriend. That boyfriend that owed Chad Little a favour. So that's why he's stuck with this old lady in his office. He thinks about the things he does for love.

The well groomed banker speaks in his stuffy tone, "You have no capital. Your business plan does not adhere to our format. And you possess a product without government approval."

"But Winthrop, it can save lives."

Winthrop taps his fingers, displaying a disgusted frown. "Too much risk. No bank will touch this."

"But."

"However Mrs. Willis, the main reason no one will touch this concept, is you're associated with Chad Little. Talk about a failed startup or two. Or three."

Margaret slouches across from an old battered tin desk in a government office which is in a building that was built right after World War II. An overweight Earl Doughty places one foot up on a two foot steel garbage can. He puffs on a big cheap cigar, flicking ashes in that can. The 54 year old government official wears a baggy beige sweatsuit. He checks the time on his antiquated desktop. Earl rubs his sizeable stomach.

"Successful approval for a product like this here is dang near impossible."

"But Earl, the Fear Saver could really make a difference."

"Sure, sure. Seven step approval process before this thing can hit the market. All up there on our web site."

"How long to get approval?"

Earl enjoys a cynical chuckle. "Years, if ever. Unless you got lots of cash. Or some high ranking politicians wanna make it happen." He winks. "Or someone in this here department becomes motivated to take an extra special interest." A long silence unfolds as Earl enjoys a drag from his cigar, blowing the smoke at Margaret.

Margaret chokes on the billowing smoke. She knows exactly what this man means. The government slug wants under the table cash to take on the wristband cause. No way she'll go there. She collects herself, swallowing hard, whispering, "We have no money."

Earl smirks as he strokes his stringy handlebar moustache. "You all gotta big old problem." He removes his foot from the garbage can, putting out his cigar. "Well, gotta mosey off for lunch."

Margaret holds up the wristband. "But this could save lives."

"Could hurt some fella. Gotta protect the public."

"Of course, we'll properly test."

"All part of that there process little lady. It'll cost millions of dollars for a dangerous weapon like that."

"But, Earl."

"No damn short cuts. And if you try to move without us, then we'll come down hard." Earl rises, patting his half showing belly.

Margaret rises along with him. "Thanks Earl for meeting me over lunch."

"Done for the day. Doing a return favour for a co-worker. Him and Chad must have been buddies back in their England days. That ain't gonna get you any special favours with me."

"But what about those poor abuse victims?"

Earl burps, waving his chubby hand in disgust. He grabs his shabby coat, moving to the door. "Off the record, some issues are better being swept under the dirty carpet."

After leaving the decaying government building, Margaret shuffles along the street. She feels tired and defeated. A text comes in, informing her that the second largest startup incubator firm cancelled there meeting with her. A regretful sigh originates from deep within Margaret.

She stumbles on, muttering to herself, "Shit, shit shit!" She feels like a joke, nobody takes her serious. There's been a list of rejections, cancellations and dozens of non replies to texts, emails and calls for the past two weeks. And all she has to show for her efforts, are four unsuccessful meetings, and four missed lunches.

After a few minutes she walks by a community center with a sign out front, 'Mindfulness Course'. She halts. She studies the sign. She moves on. She notices two beautiful robins perched on a tree above the inviting sign. The robins sings the sweetest of tunes, begging her to stay. Margaret stops, reads the sign one more time. She remembers the blind man on the city bus encouraging her to explore mindfulness and meditation.

Margaret inhales the fragrance of a nearby lilac bush. It sparks some take-a-chance memory from the past. For there is a lilac bush at the bus stop where her and the Dream Guru would depart the bus. For even though the Dream Guru finished his assignment in the Bay area and has returned home, his take a chance on yourself words linger. They drive her on.

Margaret allows her exhausted feet to carry her into the Community Center. The disheartened lady also lets her feet carry her to the second room on the right. She peeks in the open door which is labeled, 'Training Room'. She pokes her head in. Working alone, Jessica Wong, a mindfulness instructor, rolls up mats while on her knees. Margaret watches the 27 year old slim, black haired lady move with an efficient grace.

Jessica notices Margaret, gifting her a warm inviting smile. "Can I help you?"

"Class over?" Margaret inquires.

"Yes, are you interested in mindfulness?"

Margaret shrugs her shoulders. "Don't know."

"Can change your life." Jessica springs to her feet, a powerful energy force surrounding her. "Can find the authentic you. Can give you inner strength."

"Oh dear, do I ever need strength?"

"How about I give you some info?" Jessica grabs a pamphlet. "Or would you like to simply talk?"

Margaret's eyes water. "I, I'd like that."

Jessica moves closer, clasping Margaret's hand. "Come on in, and let's chat about the course."

"Let's talk crash course."

Margaret and Lisa sit around their kitchen table eating dinner that evening. Lisa hums as she plays on her cellphone. "Look at what we did," Lisa says with pride, turning the screen toward her grandmother.

Margaret squints. "What?"

"A cool little game we programmed."

Margaret leans in closer.

"We call it the Ty," adds Lisa.

"That's cute Lisa."

"Ty came up with the stupid idea. Then Chad showed us it wasn't so stupid. And Chad makes programming so much fun."

A Liverpool FC jersey wearing Chad and Tyler bust into the tiny kitchen all smiles. Tyler heads directly to Margaret holding a soccer ball.

"It was awesome," Tyler declares.

"Tyler played fantastic." Chad tousles Tyler's hair. "And for his first time."

"You guys practiced enough before he signed up," remarks Lisa.

Although Lisa excels in multiple areas: school, music, tech, art, public speaking, and the list goes on. The one area she shows little skill, is in the area of athletics. Her lack of co-ordination sits as a sore spot for her. Especially, since Tyler takes to sports naturally. Except, Tyler struggles in those areas she excels at.

Margaret hugs Tyler. "That's so great."

Margaret reflects on the change in Tyler since Chad came into their life. Each day the six year old steps a little more out of his shell, displaying a personality and shy cheekiness that she adores. And she ravels in how Chad connects with the kids, even though he's never had any of his own. His patience thoughtfulness and teachings to both of her grandchildren have restored her faith somewhat in men as far as child care, and in the area of having a loving partner as well.

Tyler sticks out his chest. "And I made a new friend Kyle."

Chad pats Tyler on the back. "Was so proud of you mate the way you made Kyle feel part of the side."

"Kyle's quiet." Tyler bounces the ball off his knee. "Kinda like me."

Lisa takes a swipe at the soccer ball and misses, banging her hand on the table. "Ouch! Is he a pain like you too?"

"Kyle's mom, Brittany, was so thrilled with Tyler," says Chad. "Works out great as we can car pool with them."

Tyler bounces the ball off his knee again, almost sending it into Margaret's plate. "So happy I signed up."

With a surprising agility, Margaret snatches the ball. "Speaking of signing up. I've signed up for a five day a week, lunch hour mindfulness class."

A week later Margaret steps out of the front door of the weatherworn woman's shelter. She heads down the front walk on a gloomy San Jose day. Her eyes focus on the many dangerous cracks in the sidewalk. Her mind focuses on why Andrea continues to treat her like a leper with the plague?

A 59 year old Daryl Willis leans up against a 30 year old Buick that should have been tossed to the scrap heap years ago. Daryl's appearance matches his car. His jeans carry numerous rips. His shirt carries permanent stains. His belligerent face shows ugly scabs and scruffy whiskers with unwashed stringy grey hair. A layer of dust clings to the addiction disaster. Daryl holds a beer and a smoke in the empty street. He savours his freedom, only a couple weeks out of prison. Also, he savours scaring the hell out of Margaret.

Daryl spits at his ex-wife. "When do I get to see them grandkids of mine?"

A startled Margaret breaks from her trance. She hesitates. Tentatively, she moves on without saying a word. Reaching in her pocket, she comes up empty handed.

Daryl guzzles his beer, tossing it to the ground. The tinny ringing spreading down the deserted street. "Come on Maggie. You can't say no to this hunk."

She'd like to throw up at his statement. She walks right on by Daryl.

A reeking Daryl follows in behind her. "Okay, fuck the little brats. Just give your ex some cash and I'll piss off." He flings his lit smoke on a lush green lawn.

She attempts to speed up. "Have no money."

Daryl grabs her, spinning her around. Roughly, he shakes her. "I expect to be treated real nice."

Margaret fights to get away. Daryl's smell, look and tone makes her stomach churn, driving her close to actually throwing up.

He shakes her harder. "That tech geek boyfriend of yours must make the bucks. Next time I come round. Better have cash for me Bitch. Or else."

Margaret's teeth and bones rattle. Her fear runs rampant, struggling to free herself.

The five foot five man sticks his unusually large fist in her face. That freakish size fist doesn't match his smaller body, but generates countless nightmares for Margaret. "Remember this Bitch." He shoves that hideous hairy fist up against her nose. He laughs like an insane hyena. Daryl throws her to the ground violently. He spits at her, carrying on with the ear piercing laugh as her fear level shoots through the roof.

She rises quickly, noticing her scraped knee. She gathers herself in a panic, scurrying away before her ex can get his hands on her again.

Daryl mocks her retreat like a mimicking monkey, delivering a verbal blow as he yells, "You were a shitty wife, and a worse mother!"

SIX

Every lunch hour Margaret attended the mindfulness sessions at the nearby Community Center. Jessica pushed her hard. For the instructor realized she had a student that was driven. Each night Margaret read, practiced, meditated and each morning she performed her yoga routine. Her granddaughter Lisa joined her on many occasions,but never Chad or Tyler.

The one incident that haunted her throughout the weeks was Daryl's coming back into her life. She wonders why he had to show up? Why did he rise up in her life just when her past nightmare was falling further from her consciousness? And how could she continue to keep him away from her grandchildren? For the sick man was a monster when it came to how he treated his wife and his daughter. Why would he be any different with his grandchildren?

Margaret hangs on the edge of her uncomfortable chair across from Andrea and her new laptop. Andrea loves the shiny tech toy she purchased. She wonders what other goodies could make this job more bearable? The temporary Executive Director focuses on her screen. She wishes her employee would get the hell out of her office, and quickly.

Margaret clears her nervous throat. "Have we thought of providing our victims with mindfulness training?"

Andrea accelerates the tapping on her laptop. "Margaret Willis, I've spoken to you about knowing your role in this shelter."

"Mindfulness training would help abuse victims. Have been taking a course for three weeks now. Life changing!"

Finally, Andrea turns to Margaret, adjusts her glasses, speaking to her in a firm tone, "I am the temporary Executive Director of this Shelter. I have the education to go with that title. And I and only I, will decide what programs we utilize." She returns to tapping on her laptop with angry fingers. "You're a cleaning lady for goodness sakes."

That shot would have sent Margaret ducking in the past. But the mindfulness training was helping, she thinks, helping a lot. Margaret enjoys a few cleansing breaths. She smiles and pushes on, "Why do you hide behind your title and your diplomas?"

Andrea stops tapping.

"Please don't take it personal Andrea. We just want to do what's best for the victims. And mindfulness is a very progressive technique."

"I'm well aware of what mindfulness is. Once again, you are out of line."

"So we can't even have an open discussion on the subject?"

"This conversation is over Mrs. Willis. Please leave."

Margaret leans over and places a comforting hand on Andrea's. "I understand and I feel for you. If you ever want to talk some more, just let me know." Margaret squeezes her hand in understanding. "You must have been really hurt somewhere in your past."

Andrea swallows hard, beginning to tremble with fear.

"I'll leave this card of a mindfulness professional that can help." Margaret sets a card on the desk, leaving the office, shutting the brand new non-squeaking door behind her. Andrea puts her head in her hands and begins to weep.

"I do fancy these FS tests," Chad says that night in the apartment.

A super charged Chad bounces on his toes six feet from Margaret. She holds the Fear Saver. She scans from side to side, wanting to flee another one of Chad's crazy wristband tests. Lisa videos the scene. Tyler plays in the background with his soccer ball. Lisa tries to kick the ball while holding the phone cam. She trips and spills to the floor.

"A new Lisa dive dance," comes from a snickering Tyler.

An embarrassed Lisa rises, getting back to her videoing task. "Forever our moment," Lisa announces as she nudges Tyler. "Thanks to me."

Chad winks at Margaret. "Okay, simply press the green button."

Margaret shakes her uncertain head. "Not this again."

"Different sort of test."

"But, Chad."

"And this go, I got the voltage right."

"Come on Grandma," Lisa and Tyler encourage.

Margaret inhales a deep breath. "Oh God! Here goes." She hits the green button which starts a humming sound.

Chad advances one step toward her. He waits a second, taking another.

Lisa fidgets as she videos. "Nothing's happening."

Chad advances another step, raising his hand, moving it forward. When he's about one foot from Margaret. A zapping sound floods the room.

Chad hops back. "Ouch, ouch!"

Tyler leaps with excitement, tossing his Warrior's lid in the air. "It worked dude!"

Chad shakes his stinging hand out. "You bet mate. But the battery can only sustain the electrical protection shield for a few seconds."

"Not long enough," Margaret remarks.

The software engineer nods. "Precisely! Use the electrical protection shield, and there's no energy to deliver an electrical zap. Fortunately, either way there is enough energy to keep the two way communication system functioning."

"So if a victim is under intense pressure, what do they do?" Margaret asks.

Chad scratches his head while he thinks. "Until I get the battery problem rectified, I wouldn't use the protection shield. And there is enough energy for two electrical zaps if required."

"Good to know," says Margaret.

Chad smirks. "Could set the voltage at maximum. Have one super zap."

Margaret shakes her head. "No way."

Chad's smile broadens. "Here's a champion idea." He sticks out his chest. "I turn up the juice to the max, and test it again."

Margaret throws a pillow at Chad.

The training room in the Community Centre packs them in. A large banner sprawls across the front of the room with the words in bold green letters, "Mindfulness Graduation". Colourful balloons and streamers make it a festive scene, along with a multilayered chocolate celebration cake. Chad, Lisa and Tyler sit at the back of the room. Tyler's six year old eyes devour the teasing cake. Lisa's eyes hold wide with admiration for her grandmother. But she does manage to sent an emoji to Tyler of a drooling piggy. While Chad's eyes focus on videoing the ceremony.

All three cheer loudly as Jessica hands Margaret her certificate. Finally, the clapping stops for Margaret, and Jessica Wong speaks, "The growth in Margaret in the past eight weeks is phenomenal. And Margaret begins her Level two certification on Monday." Additional applause sounds out for Margaret. Jessica makes one last point, "And upon completing that, Margaret will be ready to assist me in facilitating our Basic Mindfulness class."

Lisa springs out of her chair, pointing at her female statement sweatshirt. "Go Grandma!"

Margaret shares the old sofa in the shelter's sitting room on the Monday morning that she'll start her lunch hour, level two certification course. Joining her on that sofa is Rita Gomez. The usually feisty Rita's a 35 year old repeat abuse victim. Her trips back to the shelter run long. With each trip back to the shelter, some of that feistiness dies. Rita supports a cut lip, black eye and an arm in a sling. The two chat as the inaccurate grandfather clock ticks along in the background.

Rita studies a text that arrives from her husband saying, "Sorry woman - Never again man!" Attached to the text is an emoji of a bouquet of flowers.

"Please don't go back to that house," Margaret begs.

"I'm giving it one more try."

"No, no, Rita. Please don't. I don't think I could take another."

"You've been a great friend, but I will give the bum one more chance."

"Please."

Rita hangs her head. "My church. I couldn't face Father Paul if I."

Margaret pulls out the Fear Saver from her pocket as the grandfather clock hits the half hour chime. She passes the wristband to Rita without hesitation. "Then take this Rita. Let me show you how it works."

Margaret nibbles on one of her healthy cookies later that night. She lets the combination of unique flavours melt in her mouth. She reads a book on an e-reader at her kitchen table while the cookie indulgence unfolds. Her cell rings, breaking the tastebud and reading trance. "Hello."

"Hi, Mrs. Willis. This is Luke Anderson."

Margaret swallows the rest of her cookie. She stands with excitement. "Hi Luke! So very nice to hear from you. Are you okay?"

"Yeah I guess. But I miss Mommy."

"I know it must be hard for you." Margaret's heart goes out for this little fellow. Such a wonderful child, possessing so many of Dara's good qualities, including those innocent blue eyes and thick blonde hair.

"And I miss you Mrs. Willis. And I can't go see Grandpa anymore."

Six months ago, Robert learned that Dara had been sneaking Luke over to his father's rundown one room dump. Dara wanted Luke to know Grandfather Anderson. Robert did not. For years ago, Robert had stole over two million dollars from his own father's pension plan to get his first venture going. Robert wanted no one to know about that sleazy act. Therefore, he cut off all ties with his bedridden father, never wanting Luke to spend one minute with his grandfather. Unfortunately, when Robert found out about Dara and Luke's secret visits six months ago, it resulted in one of the many violent beatings.

"Oh I miss you too Luke."

"Do you still make those yummy treats?" Luke sends her an emoji of a giant cookie with a bite out of it.

Margaret chuckles at his cute emoji. She peeks inside a cookie jar on the table. "Always have a good supply."

"Can, can I see you sometime?"

Early the next day Margaret rides a jolting city bus while reading a book called, 'Living in the Moment'. Her cell rings. "Hi, Margaret here."

"Luke called this number," Robert growls. "I traced it to you. I told you to stay away from my kid."

"Why Robert?"

"Cause I hate you. And cease working on the Fear Saver. Or else."

"Why does the Fear Saver scare you?"

"It is what it represents."

"Does it remind you of Dara?"

"Fuck that! I'll crush you and that toy."

"Like you crushed your own father. Leaving him in the poorhouse."

"I will kill you. Got it."

"Not surprised about the death threat." Margaret takes a deep breath as she grips the seat in front of her. "Cause I know you killed Dara. Got it."

Margaret relaxes on the apartment sofa that evening. As she lies there with a spring poking her in the back, she thinks this sagging sofa needs to visit the dump. But money runs scarce these days.

She receives a text from her ex-husband, "I want cash Bitch!" Attached to that text is an emoji of a fist. Margaret sits up with fright. She wonders where Daryl got her phone number?

Across the room Chad taps away on his computer. He's about to complete another contract programming job. An alarm sounds on his computer, sparking them into action. Margaret races to his side. Chad flicks off the alarm.

From Chad's computer the sound of Rosa Gomez crying dominates. Background yelling comes from her husband Hector Gomez. The nerve rattling noise of a fist hitting flesh floods the computer speakers. It is followed by Rita's calls for help, ringing out loud and clear.

"Stupid fucking whore," Hector bellows.

Margaret speaks into a tiny mike on the computer, "Rita, this is Margaret. Is it a code red?"

"Yes, yes!" Rita screams.

Chad types rapidly, sending help. They hear two more strikes to flesh. Rita screams again.

Margaret yells, "Please Hector stop right now!" She then takes on an official voice, "Hector Gomez, please refrain from further violence. Emergency services are on the way." She wishes Rita would zap Hector. But she doesn't want to yell that out. She does understand how Rita could forget the instructions when under attack.

Another sound of fist hitting flesh and Rita's scream fills the computer speakers.

"Hurry, hurry Margaret," begs Rita.

Finally, the conversation around him halts the crazed Hector. "Who ya talking to?"

Chad continues to type. "Rita, Police and medical are getting closer."

"What the fuck is goin on?" Hector asks.

"I am Margaret Willis, friend of Rita. The police and medical are on their way. Please refrain from any further violence."

"Fuck you," snarls Hector.

"Emergency Services will be at the door in moments," Chad says. "Hector this incident is being recorded."

"Shit!" Fading footsteps sound as Hector races out of the room. A door slams and Chad and Margaret hear a growing siren in the background.

"Thank you!" Comes from Rita's weak voice. "He'd have killed me this time."

Andrea holds a document while sitting in her comfortable office chair. Her face stays impassive as she studies that doc. Margaret waits for Andrea to speak, gripping her unsupportive collapsing chair. She wonders how her boss will handle the latest issue? Wondering if Andrea will finally see the value of the Fear Saver after last night?

"You violated my specific instructions. Therefore, effective immediately, your services are no longer required at this shelter." Andrea slides the termination document to Margaret.

"So the fact that the wristband may have saved Rita's life means nothing?"

"Not the point Margaret. You are terminated for insubordination."

Margaret scans the document. "Very thorough. Guess you've been waiting for an opportunity like this?"

"All there in black and white."

Margaret looks Andrea directly in the eyes. "How's Robert doing?"

Andrea squirms. "He's been through a lot. I'm providing him support as he progresses through the grieving process."

"Be careful Honey. You're no more special than his last victim."

SEVEN

Margaret, Chad, Lisa and Tyler crowd around their kitchen table. Margaret tears with her head being held up by her humbled hand. Lisa and Tyler play on their phones. Chad reads the termination doc Margaret brought home today. He mutters under his breath as he scans each clause.

Chad tosses the doc on the table. "I make enough to get us by."

"But your debt repayment plan eats so much of your income," counters Margaret.

The out of the box thinking Chad experienced heartbreak and financial hardship with each of his failed startup ventures. His revolutionary ideas were leading edge, challenging the establishment, challenging the norms of the day. His timing seemed to be off by that fraction. It left him with a crippling debt load. He refuses to go the bankruptcy route. He's determined within a few years he'll dig himself from under the burden.

"True enough my lady," agrees Chad. "But I can pick up some extra contracts on the side. And still have time to work on FS."

"Let's forget the Fear Saver and that startup dream."

"Bullix." Chad says.

Lisa and Tyler giggle, popping up their heads. "No way Grandma," Lisa insists. "Remember what the Dream Guru said."

"Precisely!" Chad takes Margaret's hand. "You go full time on FS and your mindfulness journey. We'll get by just fine."

Margaret slaps the table. "Can't afford it." She pauses. "Can we?"

"Sure can!" Chad squeezes her capitulating hand. "We certainly can. And its time."

"Okay gang," Margaret says. "I'm in."

Lisa stands, pumping her fist, knocking a plastic glass off the table. "All the way Grandma. Your dream awaits."

"Go Grandma." Tyler holds up his cell. "And there's always the Ty game to fall back on."

The four share a family laugh with Lisa knocking off Tyler's favourite hat.

Margaret walks out of the front door of their apartment building the following morning. She feels tired, no sleep last night. She feels lost, no work to rush off to. She attempts to concentrate on what to do next, ignoring her surroundings. Her ex-husband, Daryl Willis, urinates on a bush. He finishes, stepping out of the shadows startling her. A haggard Daryl wobbles, shaking the whiskey bottle at Margaret. She shows no outward fear, continuing on.

Daryl spits, stepping in behind her. "Hey, Bitch! Where's my money?"

"Leave me alone Daryl. Certainly have no money for you."

Margaret continues to walk. He grabs her by the arm, spinning her around to face him. He flashes his weasel like sneer, decaying teeth poking out. "Don't make me beat it out of you."

She struggles to free herself. "Please just go away."

"Fuck you, hand it over."

A Liverpool FC jersey wearing Chad steps out of the Apartment building front door, racing toward the two with Daryl having his back to him.

Daryl pulls back his sizeable fist. "I'll teach you to."

A bitter flashback runs through Margaret's brain in that instant. Will that oversized fist ever stop haunting her? Will the fear ever leave?

Immediately before the blow strikes, Chad arrives, grasping Daryl by the shoulder, yanking him backward, saving Margaret from Daryl's fist. In one motion Chad turns the fist swinging man around, issuing a quick punch. It sends Daryl to the sidewalk, blood spewing from his nose.

"I'll kill you," Daryl snarls as he rises.

Daryl grabs the whiskey bottle, smashing it. He brandishes it like a weapon. He spits at Chad, executing a thrust with the jagged bottle. Chad steps aside, kicking the bottle out of Daryl's hand. Daryl throws a punch. Chad blocks it, sending a palm slam into the drunk's chest. It knocks the wind from Daryl, planting him on his ass.

Chad takes a step toward Daryl. "You have three-seconds to move and never be seen here again. Or I pick you up and we have round two."

Daryl wheezes, rises, staggers, finally does up the zipper on his pants and scurries away cursing. Margaret wears a frozen face of terror, reliving a river of distant memories.

She accepts a hug from Chad. "Thank you. Black belt man."

Late that night Margaret walks into the pit carrying a cup of tea and a plate with Chad's favourite cucumber sandwich. She sets them on the workbench in front of the tired software engineer. His focus on the task runs so intense, he doesn't realize she's there.

She drops into a chair. She shakes him, squeezing his arm affectionately, smashing his trance. "Break time. You're working way too hard."

"Love it." He yawns, rubbing his eyes. He receives an emoji from Tyler of a victory sign. "Tyler letting me know Liverpool won."

"He misses you and him watching every game."

"And so do I Margaret. But, making tons of progress."

"Wish I could say the same." Margaret puts her disappointed head in her hands. "I've been turned down so many times."

"Stiff upper lip and all that British fighting on stuff. Just takes one."

"Can't believe all the startup incubators turned us down."

"Some of it is, well the age thing. And the female issue. And worst thing, being associated with a bloke like me is like having a hundred ton boat anchor tied around you."

"Don't say that."

Chad flinches. "The truth."

A sound of a text comes in on her phone. "Wow. Brad Goldberg wants to meet again. Tomorrow at two in the afternoon."

"Shouldn't have sent you to him. It's doing business with the devil you know. And man that wanker's pure devil."

"Dealt with a few devils in my time."

"Margaret, you've come along way with your mindfulness training and wrestling with your fears. But, it's time."

"Time to what?"

"Time to unleash the real Margaret. Totally understand those fears. But you're an amazing lady who doesn't have to put up with any shit from any man."

"You're right." Margaret shivers as she receives another in a long line of threatening texts from her ex-husband. "But I do have one deep rooted fear. And his fist is back haunting me."

"First off, let's change your mobile number. And second, when it comes to dealing with evil wankers, it is time for Margaret to not only take a stand." He kisses her on the cheek. "But to stand tall."

"Brad. Ready to push the bitch?"

Brad Goldberg holds his feet up on his office desk, chatting with Robert Anderson on the cell. "Robert, like taking candy from a stupid baby."

"Fucking weak," Robert shouts. "Any alpha male can scare her silly."

"Have the cleaning lady waiting outside my door, just to set the tone?"

"I want that wristband killed. And killed now!"

"That technology could be worth money," says Brad.

"Fuck that! Takes too much capital to develop. When I get hold of it. It is dead technology."

Brad swings his feet off the desk, stands and clears his throat. "If we get our hands on it, let's go fifty-fifty on selling the technology."

"Want nothing to do with helping abuse bitches."

"Screw that Robert. Want to sell the functionality and potential to the highest bidder."

"Deal. Remember, hint of physical violence, the cleaning lady caves."

Brad enjoys a wicked smile.

Robert adds, "And if the fist doesn't work. We get nasty."

Twenty-five minutes later Margaret sits across from Brad. His feet are back up on the desk, showing off his shiny new Italian leather shoes. He stares at the Fear Saver in his hand. "Rethought the wristband. Want to give something back to the world. I'm willing to give you a couple of grand for the patent to this." He holds up the Fear Saver, jiggling it.

"Sorry, Brad. Two grand is a joke. But what's the real reason for your sudden interest?"

Brad's shifty eyes dart up in surprise. "Want to do Chad a favour. Needs a break."

Margaret's intuition runs wild. Something smells super sleazy with this guy. "More bullshit. What's going on here?"

Brad shoots Margaret a death ray look, swinging his feet off the desk. "Look Martha. I'll give you five grand." He slides a contract across the desk to her. "Just sign this."

"No thanks Brad."

He hammers his fist down on the table and yells, "Just do it and shut up."

She pushes back in her chair and speaks in her calm tone, "Thank you for the offer. But no way!"

A red faced Brad stands and moves around the desk. coming within inches of Margaret, he delivers a withering glare. He slams the Fear Saver down in front of her. "Just sign these fucking papers or I'll." He makes a fist, shaking it in front of her.

For the first time in her life, a fist threat doesn't faze her. Margaret takes the contract, ripping it in two. She takes the Fear Saver, stands, and slowly moves to the door. She smiles contemptuously. "Brad, go to hell!"

Margaret relaxes at a bus stop three days later. She just finished another enlightening mindfulness session. She reads a book on calming the mind. She revels in the progress so far on her mindfulness journey, knowing that moving on from her past dramas will take time and patience.

One of those past traumas pulls up in his beaten up, oil burning car squealing to a stop. Daryl leaps out of that rusty wreck, throwing his empty beer can at Margaret. It hits her on the shoulder, shaking her out of her reading reverie. He races toward her, with rage in his blood shot eyes.

"Okay Bitch. Now that geek head can't save you." He reaches her. He grabs the now standing lady, shaking her violently. "Time for a trip down memory lane." Daryl holds her with one dirty hand, slapping her across the face with the other. Her purse and book tumble to the ground.

"Ouch!" She stays steady. Their eyes lock at the same level in a battle of wills. She doesn't flinch. She stares deep into his beady eyes, seeing weakness. "Such a coward. Hitting a woman, but I forgive you."

Daryl pauses for a moment as she doesn't try to run. This isn't playing out the way he figured. This isn't the same Maggie he could dominate.

"Daryl, I forgive you for all the beatings."

Her lack of fear pisses him off. It scares him a little as well. "You deserve all of them whippings Bitch."

"Why do you have so much hate inside?"

"All your fault." He spits at her.

Margaret dodges the disgusting projectile. She recognizes that look in his eye when he's about to let fly with his fist. She eases the Fear Saver out of her pocket. "When will you stop blaming others? Not too late for you."

"Too fucking late for you. Meet my fist." He laughs a cruel laugh as he pulls his large fist back about to hit her. There isn't an ounce of fear in her body with that fist threat. Lightening quick, she points the Fear Saver at him, hits the red button, initiating the zapping sound.

Daryl convulses, dropping to the ground, writhing in pain from the electrical jolt.

A long moment passes as Margaret stands her ground. She listens to Daryl wheeze and curse. He begins to rise, wobbling, pointing his finger like a loaded gun. "You fucking Bitch!"

"She studies the creature in front of her. You really are a sad man."

He spits at her. She steps aside.

"Filthy habit Daryl. But hard to teach a bitter dog new tricks."

He gathers his strength, his killer eyes overflowing with hate. "I'll kill you." Daryl moves toward her with both fists raised, preparing to strike.

Time seems to stand still for her, no fear, pure calm. She points the wristband and graces him with another electrical jolt with a shorter zapping sound then the first shot. Daryl falls back to the ground, cursing her again.

Margaret collects her purse and book from the ground, while she waits for him to be quiet. "And I forgive you for killing our daughter."

Margaret and Lisa hang on the sofa in the apartment living room that evening. Margaret reflects on her encounter with her ex. She carries no regrets for the zapping. She's not going to beat herself up for a thing. The way she use to with every incident back when they were married.

The two watch Lisa's cell. Lisa snacks on a cookie as she chatters with excitement. "Look at what the Ty game can do now. Look at the cool graphics."

"You're so talented."

"Chad's done most of it. But I've done a little. Even Ty's done a tiny bit. I love programming. That's what I want to do."

"If that's what you want, we're gonna make it happen."

A knock on the front door sounds. Margaret heads for the door as Lisa continues to chatter, "You mean like going to tech college?"

"You bet Lisa."

"And you'd send me your cookies when I'm at college?"

Margaret looks back at her just before she opens the door. "For sure!"

"Cool. And all those cute guys."

Margaret rolls her please-help-me eyes and opens the door. Two intimidating Police Officers stand in front of her.

The first heavy set Officer speaks, "Margaret Willis."

"I'm Margaret Willis."

The second Police Officer taps his holstered gun. "You're under arrest for the attempted murder of one Daryl Willis."

EIGHT

The next morning a weary Margaret and concerned Chad huddle across from each other in a small, stinky and battered walled room at the Police Station. Margaret sips from a paper cup full of strong coffee. She moans with pleasure. "Thank you. I needed this. How are the kids?"

"Give you their love. How are you?"

Margaret puts her hand to her pounding head. "Terrible. Need sleep. When's my lawyer coming?"

"This afternoon. I've sent him all the audio that the FS collected."

"Thank you Chad."

"Even though the Police took the FS immediately, I've the audio file. Clear what happened. Your lawyer thinks he'll have you out of here by this afternoon."

A well dressed Robert and an unkempt Daryl slum at a table at a smokey dive bar at lunch that day. A number of drinks sit on the table with a mega bottle of whiskey taking center stage in front of Daryl. Mr. Willis feels at home in this kind of shady bar. He owned one like this way back when him and Margaret were first married. But he drank, gambled and fed his drug habit, throwing the opportunity away. Even though, Margaret did a great job of making the venture work as long as possible.

"Good job, Daryl! That bitch sitting in jail even if it's for only one night, is worth every cent."

Daryl shoots down a few ounces from his glass. "Damn good! When do I get paid?"

Robert tosses an envelope on the table. "Stick to the story of how she zapped you without provocation simply cause you wanted to see your darling grandchildren. Your word against hers."

"Yeah, my darling grandkids." He cackles. "Don't even know the little fuckers names." Daryl guzzles straight from the whiskey bottle.

"Better learn their names. This donation." He points at the envelope. "Is merely a start. Now you have to play the role of the poor victim. You are in serious pain."

Daryl spits on the floor, sitting up straight, sticking out his chest. "Shit! Didn't hurt me for more than a couple a seconds." He inhales another few ounces from the bottle.

"You moron! You've had serious trauma, and will be damaged for the rest of your life. Get a cane, put bandages on, twitch, etc. I'll arrange for you to see the right doctor."

"Oh, oh I see. Play the victim."

"You got it. Not only will she experience jail. But that toy will never get through an approval process. We'll continue to make her life hell."

"Thanks for giving me her phone number. Drove her crazy with the scary texts. Till the bitch changed her number on me." Daryl holds up a cell phone. "And thanks for this."

"No problem." Robert slaps Daryl on the back. "All the harassment will be worth it." Robert smirks. "And the right social media campaign will make life miserable for your fucking ex as well. And you need to keep your end up. Be well worth your time."

"How much boss?" Daryl can smell a gravy train. He snickers inside as he reflects on who he'll fuck over to cash in. No problem he figures. For if Margaret had treated him better, he wouldn't be in this financial pickle. He smashes down a few more ounces. He calculates if he could rip off the rest of the women he had long term relationships with and abused, many at the same time, he'd be rolling in the cash.

"Lots of cash available Daryl. Now act like your fucked up, so we can fuck over that ex-wife of yours."

An exhausted Margaret, Chad, Lisa and Tyler sit around the kitchen table at their apartment eating dinner. The lack of sleep has caught up to Margaret. The jail episode haunts her. All the druggies, the drunks, the fights, and the predatory nature of the place, left a dark scummy feeling on her mind and body. She showered three times since arriving home today, attempting to get rid of the lingering odour. She's never spent a moment behind those bars before last night. Although, she's spent many hours on the other side of those bars during her years with Daryl.

Tyler plays with his phone under the table, sneaking peeks between bites, attempting to hide behind a pulled down brim on his lid. Lisa glares at her brother. "Special occasion." She kicks him under the table. "No tech toys."

Tyler makes a mocking face at his sister. He shoves his cell in his pocket.

A sliver of a smile forms on Margaret's lips. "So nice to be home. How was your game last night Tyler?"

"Good," replies Tyler.

"Six goals by this young super striker," Chad says. "And he set up his buddy Kyle for two."

Tyler blushes, wanting to shift the focus. "What's jail like Grandma?"

Margaret shuts her eyes, remembering the putrid crowded cell. "Oh my!"

Lisa pokes her younger brother. "Dumb question Ty."

"Glad it's over," Margaret says. "All criminal charges are dropped."

Tyler makes a throw up motion. "Such a creep we have for a Grandpa."

Lisa giggles.

Margaret wags her finger. "Now Tyler, that's your Grandpa your speaking about."

Lisa defends her brother. "This time, Ty's bang on."

Margaret's cell rings. "I'm sorry, I broke the rule."

"That's okay Grandma." Tyler whips out his cell with his sister giving him a light poke.

Margaret answers the call, listening for a few moments.

Tyler scans his phone, whispering to Chad, "Liverpool scored." They both pump their fists.

Lisa grabs her phone, sending Tyler an emoji of a jackass.

"Thanks for the heads up. Bye." Margaret ends the call. She inhales a cleansing breath. "That was our lawyer. Now that the criminal charges are dropped. Daryl's filing a civil suit against me for damages. And somehow, he got a trial date only three months from now. Instead of the usual forever timeline with our backed up San Jose civil courts." She shuts her eyes in obvious pain. "The legal costs alone will cripple us."

Lisa kicks the table leg. "Creep's too nice a word for the drunken loser we call Grandpa."

"How much does the creep want?" Chad asks.

Margaret collects herself. "Ten million."

Four days later Margaret perches in a comfy chair in Brittany Bouvier's tastefully decorated office. Brittany is a mid thirties attractive Venture Capitalist with multiracial Creel heritage. Always making a fashion statement with her chic clothes, dangling jewelry and cornrow braids, all matching her warm engaging smile. That smile and her incredibly sharp mind has lifted the Stanford grad to the top of her San Jose VC firm. Both ladies have a huge coffee cup in front of them filled with a specialty blend. It makes their taste buds tango with delight, and the aroma makes their noses tingle with desire.

"Couldn't believe when you called," Margaret says. "Thank you for taking the time."

"My pleasure. Tyler's a great kid. The way he made my son Kyle feel a part of the soccer gang."

"They've become good buds."

"So very true Margaret. I owe Tyler so much. Then when he started talking about the Fear Saver. I was intrigued."
"But Brittany, you're such a big VC firm. We're nothing. Why?"

Brittany takes a sip from her cup. "Every so often we come across a pet project. When Chad sent me the business plan and the video of how it works. I had to talk." She leans forward with excitement. "What about child abuse?"

"Chad's talked of a special model for that purpose."

Brittany rubs her hands together. "Excellent! I love the name Fear Saver."

"The concept is that the device can save abuse victims from feeling as much fear as they ordinarily would. And for some maybe feeling no fear."

"You nailed it girl!" Brittany taps her cup. "Worship the zapping feature too."

Margaret puts her hand to her temple. "Not so sure. I used it on my ex-husband who was attacking me. He's going after damages in civil court." She sinks in the comfortable chair. "Legal fees will kill us. Sorry, that's my problem."

Brittany touches Margaret on the arm with a re-assuring hand. "Girl, let me help. You now have free access to my team of lawyers. Best in this entire valley."

"Thank you. But."

"No strings. You'll never know how Kyle has turned a corner."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely! And we'll fry the bastard."

Margaret sips on her coffee and sighs in relief. "Thank you."

"My pleasure. Now about the Fear Saver."

"Oh Brittany, I worry about government approval with the zapping feature."

Brittany gives a knowing smirk. "Welcome to the world of product approval. I've lots of money behind me. Not a problem."

"Sounds good. But."

"Girl, I love, love, love what you and Chad have done. I'm in. You've got your three hundred grand and on your terms."

A surprised Margaret spills her coffee. "I'm so sorry."

Brittany and Margaret begin wiping up the spill and share a connecting laugh.

"Been told no so many times. I'm in shock. But really. Why?"

"First Margaret, it's an amazing business opportunity. Second, we can make a real difference." She gazes out the window for a long moment and takes many thoughtful breaths. "And I'm a former abuse victim." A tear rolls down her cheek. "And so is my son."

Margaret and Chad work on their laptops while cuddling on the sofa. Chad nibbles on a cookie as he works. Margaret insisted Chad come out of the pit for a couple of hours and relax. But of course, he works at the same time as they share a cookie moment.

Margaret pops her head up. "Just got the final signed docs from Brittany."

"Talk about moving fast. You just met with Brittany three days ago." Chad leans over and kisses her. "And now congratulations are in order. You're now the CEO of Fear Saver Inc."

"I'm shaking." One of the reason she shakes, is that there was a moment way back when she basically ran a dive bar, made it successful, made a profit, made customers love her, all to have Daryl trash the entire venture. But then the Dream Guru got her thinking and dreaming again.

"You'll be amazing." He leans over and gives her a second kiss. "Nothing to worry about. We've structured it with no board to get in our way in this first phase. Brittany will be our only special advisor."

"I never thought." Yet, in the back of her mind, she always wanted another chance to show she could lead. But the dream this time, wouldn't have an addiction boat anchor like Daryl around. And every time she led the bar to some successful point, she paid the price. It made Daryl insanely jealous of her making good, while he crashed and burned. She'd receive another beating.

"To celebrate, I'm having another one of these." He snatches up a cookie. "I do fancy these. Your healthy treats are amazing." He takes a bite, moaning with pleasure.

"Having trouble keeping up to all the cookie monsters."

"We should sell them."

"Not that good Chad."

"Oh yeah. Call them Margaret's Mouth-watering Magic. Triple M's."

She enjoys a hardy laugh. She leans in, looking close at her laptop. "What the hell?"

"What is it?"

"Email from our new lawyers. Daryl and his lawyer want to cut a deal. They want one hundred grand, plus the actual wristband and the patent to the Fear Saver." She sends an email back. "Just said no."

"Know they have no case. So they want to negotiate out of court. They're getting desperate."

"Brittany's lawyers are good."

"Where's Daryl even getting the money for a lawyer?" Chad assumes an even more puzzled look. "And why in the hell would a totally non tech or business guy like Daryl have any interest in FS?"

Margaret studies the email with her mind working. "Could be as simple as hurting me in whatever way he can."

"Hasn't he hurt you enough?"

"The verbal abuse was bad." She turns to Chad. "The beatings were hell." She sheds a tear, clenching her fists. "But when a drunk kills your only child, and gets away with it. You'd think that'd be enough."

"Give me a drink," a panting Robert demands as he busts into Brad Goldberg's office a week later. Robert's clothes are ripped and there's blood on his shirt. "For the record, this meeting started two hours ago." He strides over, dropping in a chair.

"Understand." Brad smirks as he wonders of what this power broker's done now? And how he can benefit from it? He reaches in a desk drawer and pulls out two whiskey glasses and a bottle of Scotch. He fills both glasses, passing one to Robert.

The power broker drains it. "May need an alibi. My driver will back you up."

Brad pours him another full glass. "Absolutely. Nobody but you and me in the building this evening." Brad knows he'll use this favour later, big dollar signs flashing in his scheming brain.

"Not likely I'll need it. But I'm stringing along his Shelter boss. Man, that woman's naive."

"So who does the Shelter boss go to if?" Brad thumps his desk. The two men chuckle. "Speaking of those types Robert. Heard what Brittany did?"

"Yeah. Got my moles everywhere. Can't believe the cornrow princess has done so well." He strikes the arm of the chair. "And then to top it off she helps that bitch. Margaret Willis. Turning out to be a pain in the ass. Luke thinks she's great. Have to beat that out of him."

"Fear Saver's getting a little momentum."

"Like to go over there and slap Margaret silly. But that."

Robert drains his glass again as he thinks of the many reasons he hates Margaret. One of which revolves around the fact she reminds him of his own deceased mother. His mother was a kind and good hearted lady. But she rode him hard when he stole that money from his father. She made him feel guilty and small for a few minutes when the theft was discovered. That despicable act had left his parents broke. But he sure showed them in his mind. He never spoke to his mother again, never spoke to his father, never paid back a penny of the money he stole or the money he had borrowed from them before he committed that pension robbing scam. And finally, he really showed his mother by never attending her funeral. And he's going to show Margaret.

"Fucking Margaret," Brad says. "Protected by that martial arts expert."

"There's other ways to beat her. Although I'd love to." Robert punches air with his fist. "Her ex hates her too. Wants to destroy her."

"So do I."

Robert hammers the desk. "I sure as fuck do. And there'll be others joining us by the time I'm done."

"It's Luke. Nanny's hurt bad. What do I do Mrs. Willis?"

"Where's your Dad?" Margaret asks as she enters the apartment that night, holding her cell along with her yoga mat.

"Daddy left. And I heard Nanny crying in her room."

Margaret makes a face showing her disgust. "How bad is Nanny hurt?"

"Bleeding all over."

"I'm calling 911. An ambulance will be there shortly."

"I'll let them in. Please can I come stay with you?"

NINE

Luke plays with toys on the apartment living room floor the following morning. He had a ton of fun with Lisa and Tyler last night. He's eaten a healthy breakfast, and now enjoys a healthy triple M cookie. His puppy yips right beside him, eyeing up that cookie. Margaret warms at the sight as she goes to answer the door, halting a non-stopping doorbell. Andrea stands in front of her with a fierce posture and stern look.

Miss Cooper wags her finger like an old fashion school teacher. "How dare you take Luke?"

Margaret inhales a calming breath. She exaggerates a sweeping welcome gesture. "Come in Andrea. No need to thank me for calling you."

Arrogantly, Andrea strides into the room.

"Wow! Like your new diamond earrings."

"Not what we're here to discuss. Robert could charge you with kidnapping."

Margaret whispers, "Not going to get into this in front of Luke. But don't throw that crap at me. Robert beat his Nanny. Then abandoned her and Luke."

Andrea whispers right back. "He most certainly did not."

"Open up your eyes."

Andrea marches over to Luke. "Let's go Luke."

The puppy snarls at her, flashing his tiny teeth.

Luke inches away from her, gripping his cookie tight. "Who will stay with me?"

"You'll be taken care of." Andrea grabs his hand. "Your poor Dad is worried sick about you."

"Bloody hell," Chad exclaims the following day as he enters the door to the pit. The room's been trashed. Overturned chairs, broken computer monitor, smashed equipment, loose wires and papers ripped and scattered about. Even Chad's priced picture of the Beatles lies torn in shreds with the frame demolished on the floor. A look of horror overtakes Chad's face. He rummages through the mess, growing more concerned as he investigates.

He whips open a drawer with a smashed lock, sifting through it, cringing in pain. "Some frigging knob head pinched my plans!"

Five minutes later an upset Chad busts into the front door of the apartment. Margaret peeks at a book on yoga while trying the various positions. She happens to be doing the downward dog at this moment when Chad appears to becoming unravelled.

"Bullix!" rages Chad.

"What is it?"

"Some wanker trashed the pit."

Margaret rises to her feet, feeling a touch dizzy. "What?"

"Smashed a bunch of equipment."

"No way Chad!"

"Sent you pics of the damage. Damn lucky they were clowns. They pinched the design plans for a foolish old college project of mine. Got no FS plans."

"I'm calling it in to the cops."

Chad shrugs one shoulder. "Won't do any good."

"Still calling it in. Wonder if its cause of some of the garbage being posted online about me?"

Chad rubs his chin. "Maybe. But even though there was damage done, I think they were after something specific."

"What about the wristband?"

He pulls the wristband out of his pocket. "Never leave this little dandy in the pit."

Margaret and Brittany Bouvier hover at a corner table in a crowded Starbucks a month later. Coffee cups crowd the table with a factory made cookie on a plate in front of Brittany. The two enjoy these weekly Fear Saver update sessions which are as much about their growing friendship as the wristband.

"Kyle had so much fun at your place last week. Thank you from this overprotective mom."

"Oh Brit, he's such a delight. Him and Tyler had so much fun."

"He loved your cookies. Thanks for the care package." Brittany holds up the that processed cookie on her plate. "Your cookies make these taste like garbage."

"Thanks. Another care package." Margaret passes Brittany a paper bag packed with Triple M delights.

"Oh yeah, thank you so much." Brittany takes the bag. "His first sleep over. I was so nervous. And so was he."

Brittany thinks about the powerful connection she's developed with Margaret. How she gave her funding on Fear Saver without her usual rigger? How she trusted Margaret with her son? How she considers her a true friend? She hasn't trusted anyone like this for years, even her helicopter mother. Brittany will do almost anything to make Margaret's Fear Saver dream come alive.

"Oh Brit, your son's a real little gentlemen. You should be proud."

Brittany sits a little taller in the chair. "I am so proud of my little man."

"And he's so proud of his mom."

Brittany frowns. "Well, I'm not proud of what's going on with the approval process. Have run into a snag. These government officials are running on about the Fear Saver like the device is a nuclear weapon." She shakes her confused head, filling the room with the clacking sound. "Never had this happen before. They even mentioned the incident with your ex."

"Things sure get around this valley."

"And get blown out of proportion. And the trash that's been posted about the Fear Saver and what they are saying about you."

"Don't care!"

"Well, I do. I have a social media plan to counter that attack at you and the wristband."

"Thank you. Anything else we can do Brit?"

"Keep fighting girl. After applying major pressure, we've been granted a temporary approval to cautiously proceed with developing and testing. Except, with all sorts of ridiculous conditions. Its like someone is determined to have us fail."

A well dressed Robert and a sloppily dressed government official, Earl Doughty, enjoy a cigar, drinks and dinner at a high end restaurant that evening. Robert's detectives have done a magnificent job of informing him of Margaret's every move. He enjoys this game where he's like the top dog in the valley, king of the jungle, stalking his prey before he rips them to shreds and devours them. In his mind, this government official sits as one more in the line of pawns to be manipulated on the path to Margaret's destruction.

Earl leans back, taking a puff from one of the Cuban cigars ordered to the table. "I could get used to this here lifestyle."

"I'm not complaining." Robert swirls his wine glass, savouring a sip.

"Anything else I can do?" Earl asks as more food drips from his handlebar moustache onto his t-shirt.

Mr. Anderson peers around, ensuring no on can hear. "Earl, you sure the fire alarm has been sounded at all the appropriate levels?"

Earl lets out a satisfied belch. "Yes! The temporary approval was just a decoy. Don't wanna raise any suspicions. With the conditions placed on that wristband; Fear Saver never gonna go further than that. Never."

"Are you sure?"

"Dang right. The testing conditions put on that there wristband are impossible to meet. Not a chance."

"Well, done."

Earl grins. "And on top of that, in our department, panic runs wild when it comes to the notion of any final approval for that thing. That there social media storm that is going on against that gadget sure helps."

Robert grins. "Sure has painted Margaret and that wristband like an evil monster." Robert feels as if that money spent hiring a gang of social media geeks to rip that irritating lady and that toy, was well worth it.

"Got most in our department acting like a crazed cat chasing its tail." Earl enjoys another puff of his cigar. "And them that ain't panicking, are taken care of." Earl lets fly with a huge knowing smile.

Margaret stands in the middle of the pit blindfolded two weeks later. Her and Chad are now surrounded by an expanded and much more professional looking pit. The lighting, furniture and tools have been upgraded. And to Chad's delight, the room overflows with powerful high-tech equipment, along with a new picture of the Beatles and a Liverpool FC pennant on the wall.

Chad yanks the blindfold off Margaret. "Oh my God!" She hugs Chad. "So much nicer!"

"Our landlord was great about letting us renovate the extra space. Even paying him rent."

"It's like Fear Saver Inc. is really coming alive."

"And there's even a spot for the CEO to work." Chad guides Margaret to a chair. "Your throne my lady." Margaret laughs and sinks into that chair. "Suits you. Want a CEO problem?"

"Fire away Chad." It reminds her of when she ran the bar where staff would continually ask for her help, while Daryl pounded the alcohol and drugs into his body.

"Margaret, I'm still frustrated by the government testing conditions for final approval. They seem impossible."

"But we got temporary approval to proceed."

Chad groans. "That means nothing. Absolutely nothing, the way it was written up. A real joke."

"Kinda like that joke of a bashing we're taking on social media."

"Bullix!" Chad shakes his head in disgust. "Talk about lowlife trolls."

"But Brit's people have done a fantastic job of balancing that fake news with the real story."

"For sure!" He thinks for a moment. "Except that temporary approval to go to the next step with all its conditions, makes it almost impossible to get final approval."

She taps him on the knee. "Keep at it. If anyone can, you can."

"Something I'm missing. It's like the conditions were designed by a fool, or a mad genius."

"Takes time. Look how many improvements you've made in just the first two months of Fear Saver Inc."

"Finally got the tiny camera to work on the wristband. Now FS cannot only operate via sound, but can take video and stream back what's actually taking place when under attack."

"Great work! Too bad that wasn't available when Daryl attacked me. But having the sound recorded seems to be good enough. As I talked to Brittany's lawyers again, and with one month left to the court date with Daryl, they are extremely confident of a decisive win."

Three and a half weeks later Robert towers in his intimidating manner across from Brittany who sits at her desk. Her arms are folded in a defensive position, her jaw is set. Her feet are firmly planted on the floor. She's ready to do battle with this egotistical man, who tells everyone who will listen, that he is the undisputed King of this Valley.

"I won't do that Robert." She shakes her head with purpose, cornrow braids noise backing up her statement.

"Let me put it this way. Do it or I will crush you."

"The way your fake news tried to crush Fear Saver." She winks at him triumphantly. "Sort of backfired on you when my wizards hit the social media world."

He makes a fist. "Bitch! I'll fix you."

She leans back, flashing an amused smile. "Your hollow threats are useless."

Robert pushes his huge frame forward, putting his hands on her desk and scowls. "Then let me make some substantial threats."

"Done it," Chad blurts out to himself the following day as he toils in the pit. He feels a mega rush with this breakthrough. He says out loud as he puts the finishing touches on his discovery. "Can't wait to tell Margaret!"

The door to the pit creeks as it opens. He peeks up, seeing Robert Anderson coming through the door with a mountain of a bodyguard. That massive man stands one step behind his boss, flexing his muscles, filling the entire doorway.

"Mr. Little, I brought protection as I hear you're a dangerous man."

Chad sizes up the heavy breathing bodyguard.

Robert points his pistol finger at Chad. "Bang! The Fear Saver stops now. Or else."

"Piss off!"

The bodyguard takes one step into the room.

Robert slaps Chad on the arm. "If you don't co-operate, I will inform Margaret of your embarrassing indiscretions back three months ago."

Chad pales with fear.

"My well paid detectives have some fascinating pics."

Chad squirms in his chair.

"Word out there is whenever you get close to any kind of success, you fuck it up." Robert enjoys a cruel laugh. "For if that old bitch finds out, you're done." Robert yanks Chad's ponytail. "What's it going to be?"

Robert rips down the Liverpool FC pennant. He and his bodyguard depart. Chad stares into space. He begins to shake with fright. He opens a drawer. He pulls out a small wooden box. He opens the box, pulling out a needle. An uncontrollable urge begins to overtake his entire body. Hungrily, he stares at that needle. He wonders if this could be the answer to all his problems?

"Margaret," Chad calls out as he bursts into the apartment living room twenty minutes later. He spies Margaret pacing, talking on her cell. He pumps his fist. "Did it!"

"Bye." She shoves her phone in her pocket.

Chad walks over and hugs her. "I did it!"

"Did what Chad?"

"Altered a tiny battery that will now carry the charge we require to do more of the functionality FS can perform. That means more zaps, and a protective electric shield that can last longer then a few seconds."

"That's progress."

"Also made major progress on the conditions for government approval. Especially, in the testing area. Person who designed them was definitely more on the fool side."

"Now that's a game changer. And more great news Chad. If we get that final government approval, we've a potential manufacturing and distribution partner with outstanding terms."

"You did a smashing job of lining that up," praises Chad.

"I'm off to meet with Brit. Can't wait to give her the great news. Fear Saver and us, are on our way. Except, for that stupid trial in a couple days."

"Ah Margaret. There's one more thing. There's something I want to, well. Chat with you about." Chad begins to tremble and perspire. "Back about three months ago. Well, I did something." He clears his throat.

"What are you talking about?"

"Sit down Margaret. This could be a game changer too."

Fifteen minutes later, Chad opens the apartment front door with his suitcase in hand and laptop case over his shoulder. Margaret watches him leave with a stone cold look. He gapes at her, pauses, about to speak. No words come out. He shuffles on out the door. He shuts the door behind him. The quiet door shutting feels thunderous in Margaret's heart. She begins to cry.

Toward the end of that workday Margaret sits across a desk from a rigid Brittany, who will not make eye contact with her. Margaret wants to chat about good news. For the Chad confession today hit her hard, really hard. "Brit, I've got great news about the Fear Saver."

"Doesn't matter for I'm exercising the termination clause in our contract," Brittany says with an ice tone.

"But why?"

Brittany digs her fingernails into the arm of the chair to give her strength. "You didn't indicate to us that you had improperly utilized the Fear Saver on an individual."

"But I told you."

"You claimed the first electrical shock was in self defence. However, you didn't advise us of the second unwarranted electrical shock on your ex."

"But that's not true. And you can't kill our deal like that."

"Yes, we can. The three hundred thousand must be returned to us immediately. And Margaret, our legal services are no longer available to you."

The night before the civil trial begins, a thunderous and insistent knocking erupts from the apartment front door. Margaret glides to the shimmering door. She opens it, ready to scold the person for their rudeness. An evil grinning Robert stands there with his humongous bodyguard right behind like a dog on a leash.

"Time to cave Bitch."

Margaret studies both men for a minute. "What are you talking about?"

Robert takes an aggressive step toward Margaret, shoving his fist in her face. "Don't fuck with me. It's over."

That threatening fist would have sent her running in the past. She doesn't flinch. Not a sliver of fear. "What is over?"

"I've wasted too much time stacking this deck. Fold now. Haven't even played my judicial card." He expands that evil grin. "And you can leave town with your tail between your legs."

Robert's bodyguard waddles forward, cracking his knuckles.

Robert whispers, "But at least you'd be."

Margaret continues to stare at both men, standing firm. "Not a chance!"

"Listen old lady," Robert yells. "Settle out of court right now. And then my associate will assist you to pack up. And leave town tonight."

She shakes her determined head.

Robert eases back his fist, ready to strike. "Or you die."

She whips out the Fear Saver, pointing it at Robert's heart. "See that."

Robert glances down.

"Turn your ass around and leave Mr. Anderson, or you'll be doing the highland fling on the floor."

"Don't have the guts to zap me."

Margaret pauses.

Robert chuckles. "As I thought."

She smiles, savouring the feeling of fearlessness. "Just deciding on how many. First one's for Dara."

"See you in court. I never lose. Look forward to you personally handing over that bitch protector."

"And if I win. I get to spend time with Luke."

Robert laughs maliciously in her face. "Deal. Little boys are more your speed. Can't hold a man. Just old and dried up."

"So what's your excuse Robert? Dara did tell me why you couldn't please a real woman."

Robert goes to strike Margaret. With blazing speed, she shoves the Fear Saver at his face, stopping him cold. She hisses, "Now get out."

TEN

Margaret trembles in a San Jose courtroom. She's next to an even more trembling rookie lawyer, Miss Singh. They review their strategy at one wobbling wooden table. At another table across the room, Daryl and a team of expensively clad lawyers, perch proud as peacocks. Robert and Brad sit right behind them. The two puff up their feathers as much as their pals in front of them. Both tables are populated with laptops, cell phones and stacks of legal docs.

Taking center stage for Daryl's legal team is TJ Raker. The 48 year old full of himself lawyer stares cooly as if he's got this thing in the bag. A restless Daryl dressed in a suit and tie grins over at Margaret as if he's King of the world. Darryl also supports a large bandage on his head, a neck brace and holds a walking cane.

An arrogant Judge Underwood shuffles out of a side door. A court clerk walks one step behind. The judge inches his way to his bench, appearing as if he'd rather be at the private and underground men's club he and his buddy Robert belong to.

Margaret whispers to Miss Singh, "Why the last minute change in judges?"

Miss Singh whispers back to Margaret, "Don't know. But he's called the rookie crusher."

"What?"

"I'm a rookie lawyer. Judge Underwood never rules in any rookie's favour." She shrinks in her chair. "And I mean never."

"Oh, no. What about our asking for an extension?"

Miss Singh rolls her inexperienced eyes. "Turned us down flat."

"Not fair."

"Said you had 3 months to prepare, and that you changing lawyers last minute was your own doing."

"But."

"Another major point about Judge Underwood. He thinks all women should know their place."

Earl Doughty slouches in the witness chair. Daryl's deep toned, smooth talking lead lawyer, TJ Raker, hovers in front of him. The six foot six Mr. Raker stands tall, scanning the courtroom. He adjusts his silk tie, ensuring all eyes zero in on him. "Now Mr. Doughty, how did Margaret Willis describe the Fear Saver?"

Earl fiddles with his unkept handlebar moustache. "Well, she done called it the Revenge Seeker. Margaret Willis crowed about how she had a weapon that would settle the score."

"What was her reaction to your government testing process?"

"Margaret Willis told me she ain't gonna go through any government testing process. Wanted to do her own testing."

"How did she plan on short cutting the process?"

"Bribe. She asked right out, how much it would take. Turned the little lady down flat."

"Bribery!" Mr. Raker raises his massive bushy eyebrows for effect. Of course, this no surprise to the lead lawyer. Accepting bribes was one of Mr. Doughty's many disgraces before being run out of Tulsa under another name. Mr. Raker knows Brittany's lawyers held the dirt on him. But this rookie had no chance to dig that up on Earl. "Noble of you to turn down that deplorable act by Margaret Willis!"

Margaret fumes, purposely takes deep breaths to calm herself down.

Earl holds his head high. "A feller must hold to a certain standard. A certain Code of Ethics."

"So Earl, what did she do when you refused her filthy bribe?"

She shook her fist at me. "Said our process was stupid. She'd do her own testing."

"Mr. Doughty, what were her exact words?"

"I'll do my own testing. And I know who I'll settle the score with."

"Who did she want to settle the score with?"

Earl points his finger at Daryl Willis. "Bragged about settling the score with her ex-husband."

Mr. Raker prances back and forth like a victor in a ring. A self assured Brad Goldberg poses on the witness stand. Brad stretches out his long legs in a relaxed manner as he prepares to answer the question. "Margaret Willis never spoke of helping abuse victims. She wanted lots of money so she could build her Husband Zapper as she referred to the Fear Saver."

Mr. Raker repeats the words, "Husband Zapper."

"Her vision was to have a weapon that put the power in the hands of the wife."

"Now Mr. Goldberg, what did she say in regard to testing?"

"Margaret smiled and informed me she possessed the perfect guinea pig named Daryl."

Mr. Raker pauses, points to Daryl. "You are saying she specifically named this wonderful man, her ex-husband, as her Guinea pig?"

"Yes, stated how she couldn't wait to see him bowing at her feet after a couple of test zaps."

An erect and expressionless Andrea takes her turn on the witness stand. She dawned a new dress that is more suited to a 70 year old librarian. Mr. Raker leans down close to her. He fiddles with that tie, asking in his leading manner, "So you had to fire Margaret Willis, because she gave one of the Woman Shelter victim's the unapproved, untested, dangerous Fear Saver wristband?"

"Yes. That is correct."

"Now Miss Cooper, had you given Margaret Willis the authority to distribute the wristband?"

"No. I certainly did not." Andrea turns to Margaret and wags a told-you-so finger at her. "And I had given Margaret prior warning about the consequences of her having that wristband at the workplace."

"Had Margaret Willis asked you to experiment with the wristband weapon at the workplace?"

"Yes,. Margaret was aggressive in regard to testing the wristband."

"Miss Cooper, you are a highly accomplished professional in the field."

Her head lifts a fraction. "Yes, I certainly am."

"In your professional opinion Miss Cooper, what was Margaret Willis's motivation surrounding the wristband?"

"In my professional opinion, Margaret Willis has a deep rooted obsession with attaining revenge for what she perceived her ex-husband has done to her."

A sullen Robert appears like a man who has been through the wringer. He slumps on the witness stand. He ensures his clothing choices and grooming are that of a distraught grieving husband. An empathetic look comes from Mr. Raker. The lead lawyer worked hard to persuade Robert to play the role set down for him. The smug man finally gave in, promising to give an academy award performance.

"Yes, Margaret Willis told my dearly departed wife Dara that she had a weapon that would settle the score with men. And she also told my wonderful wife." Robert sheds a tear, taking a moment to compose himself.

"Take your time Mr. Anderson. This must be very difficult for you."

"Thank you. I was deeply in love with my wife. The wound is still deep." Robert takes more time to play out the grieving husband role. "Dear Dara." His voice cracks, a few more tears flow. He sniffles. "Sorry, sorry."

"Take your time Mr. Anderson."

Robert sniffles again. "Thank you. Dara spoke often about Margaret's anger toward Daryl Willis. And how she wanted to fix him good." He turns to Daryl. "After meeting Mr. Willis today. What a wonderful man he is. And if the ruling were to go in his favour, and he receive the patent to the Fear Saver. I would be willing to assist him financially to bring the Fear Saver to market."

Mr. Raker claps loudly. "You are a wonderful human being."

"But only to do good." Robert holds up his hands as if he's God. "Not for the evil that it was initially intended by that." He points at Margaret. "That violent cold hearted woman."

That night at the apartment a stressed out Margaret and Lisa sit at the kitchen table. Margret plays with her food. Her stomach's churning. Her throat runs dry. She feels lost and alone. She feels as if her world slips away on her, one piece at a time, one witness at a time. But she revels in the fact her caring grandson gave her mega good luck hugs before he went to bed, and her spirited granddaughter supports her while she attempts to eat a late dinner.

"Put my training on self control to good use in that court room," Margaret admits.

"Bunch of crap Grandma."

"More to come in the morning." A text comes in. Margaret grabs her phone, studying it. "Our lawyer. Been advised that your grandfather's team is presenting two surprise witnesses in the morning."

"And will Grandpa take the stand as well?"

"Yeah. Let the parade of lies march on."

Lisa takes her grandmother's hand. "This must be hard for you?"

"It's tough, but it's nothing compared to." Margaret looks over at Lisa, seeing her deceased daughter in her ten year old granddaughter. Both with a confidence, intelligence and perceptiveness that makes her proud. She reflects on how Lisa's mother had that feisty streak, not taking any crap, even from her father, Daryl.

"Compared to what Grandma?"

"I shouldn't say this, but you're mature enough to handle it." Margaret sighs deeply. "This will never match the nightmare of the outrageous lies your Grandpa told when he killed your mother, my daughter, and beat the manslaughter charge."

ELEVEN

The courtroom overflows with an excited charge the following morning. Women of all ages jam into the room. Jessica Wong and Rita Gomez sit behind Margaret and Miss Singh. While Robert and Brad sit behind Daryl, Mr. Raker and the rest of the legal team. Daryl's side of the courtroom basks in a glow, feeling their triumph awaits.

Margaret looks back, huddling with Rita and Jessica. "Great to see you guys."

"All the Shelter gang are here to show support," says Rita.

"Mindfulness group here in force," Jessica declares. "We invited a couple of media friends as well. They'll have a TV crew outside the courthouse when this is over."

"Thanks," Margaret says with a crack in her voice. "This means so much to me."

Jessica squeezes Margaret's shoulder. "Little birdie named Lisa called for reinforcements."

Rita stands and gives Margaret a hug. "Least I could do is bring out the shelter troupe. I owe you and the Fear Saver big time for my exciting new lease on life after dumping Hector."

Margaret grips the table. "Let's see what kind of lease on life the Fear Saver and I get today."

A rugged and grim faced Hector Gomez leans forward in the witness chair as Mr. Raker asks questions. Hector's an overweight, bald headed guy who scratches himself incessantly in the most embarrassing areas. Mr. Raker delights in being able to call Hector to the stand as a surprise witness. He'd never have done this with Brittany's lawyers as they'd have ripped him to shreds. But with the rookie Miss Singh, clear sailing.

"Yeah man, was one of da guys along with poor Daryl here." Hector points a lazy finger at Daryl. "Who were set up man. As part of da test."

"Now Hector, what did your wife, Rita Gomez say about the Fear Saver wristband?"

"My Rosa told me Margaret gave her a weapon that needed to be tested." He scratches himself in that embarrassing spot again. "So Rosa pissed me off. Margaret got part of her test."

The spirited Rosa leaps to her feet and screams, "You lying bastard!"

Judge Underwood hammers his gavel. "Take that lady out of my court."

Two muscular guards begin to escort Rosa out of the courtroom. But she doesn't go quietly. Loud boos ring out from the crowd as she's dragged out. She puts up a noble fight, ensuring the two guards know they're in a tussle. She rips their freshly pressed shirts, spilling out those rock hard muscles, turning the boos to sexy whistles from the crowd of primarily women.

"You poor man," Mr. Raker says in his sarcastic tone. "Having to live with that."

Hector gives the universal crazy sign with his twirling finger by the side of his head. "Tried my best."

Mr. Raker's booming laugh fills the courtroom. "A man can only take so much. So Mr. Gomez. What feature in particular did Margaret want your wife to test?"

"Margaret told my Rosa to make sure to zap me. And more than once."

"So Hector, this was all part of the plan between Rosa and Margaret?"

"Yeah man. But my Rosa knew better." Hector sits taller, thumping his chest. "So Rosa confessed later, Daryl was next on da list."

Brittany's turn on the witness stand. She looks down, wringing her hands together. Brittany enjoyed no sleep last night. She wrestled with herself. She dreaded this moment, dreading how these animals pushed her even further then merely abandoning Margaret, but to be a surprise witness as well.

Mr. Raker parades for the courtroom, adjusting that tie at record speed. He figures this surprise witness stands as another example of his pure genius. Even though, she fought the idea hard. "Brittany, what did Margaret Willis say to you about the incident with her ex-husband Daryl Willis?"

Brittany clears her backstabbing throat. "Margaret indicated she deliberately taunted Daryl into touching her in order to test the Fear Saver." She wishes she could crawl in a hole and die right now after that lie.

Mr. Raker puffs up his inflated chest even more. For he had a sliver of a concern this witness might stray from his well laid out script. "What did she say about the test?"

"Margaret indicated she loved zapping the bastard."

"And what did Margaret Willis indicate in regard to the second electrical shock she delivered to Daryl Willis?"

Brittany pauses as she inhales a deceiving breath. "Margaret stated she wished Daryl would have never got up."

Daryl twitches, leaning on his cane in an awkward manner as he sits on the witness chair. Mr. Raker stands in a relaxed and supportive manner close to Mr. Willis.

Daryl knows if he can put on a convincing show over the next few minutes, he's got cash in his pocket for one hell of a party. More importantly, he'll have fixed Margaret. He'll make sure she never has more than him. He'll leave her with more debts. The way he did when he left her holding the debts after they lost the bar.

Daryl speaks in a slow manner, "I wanted to ask Margaret to let me see my grandchildren who I miss so much."

"How long has she kept you away from your grandchildren?"

Daryl scratches his bandaged head. "She's always tried to keep me from the little darlings."

The tall lawyer smacks the rail next to the witness stand. "That is cruel."

"She's worked hard to keep me away, Margaret's jealous of how much those kids love me." Daryl sheds a fake tear. "Hurts so much."

"Certainly must. Take your time." Mr. Raker passes Daryl a tissue. Daryl dries that fake tear with flare.

"So Mr. Willis, what happened on that day you were attacked?"

"As soon as Margaret saw me, she went crazy. She was swinging her heavy purse at me."

"What did you do when Margaret Willis viciously attacked you?"

Daryl puts his two hands in front of him in a defensive position. "Tried to defend myself. Then accidentally touched her in attempting to block the violent blows."

"Then what happened? Take your time Mr. Willis. You are suffering from massive pain from her unprovoked attack. We thank you for even being here today."

Daryl points his finger in an accusatory manner. "Margaret used that awful weapon to electrocute me. Then stood over me and laughed as I lay there helpless." He hugs himself, accidentally banging the cane on his chair. "Then whispered in my ear; thanks guinea pig." He spits on the floor with words of disgust coming from some of the women in the courtroom.

The judge thwacks his gavel. "Quiet!"

The lawyer's tie goes for another adjustment ride. "So she called you a guinea pig?"

Daryl nods. "Terrible. But if I were to win the rights to the zapping toy. As the nice man Robert Anderson said; we'd use it for good, helping those less fortunate. And not just to make money and kill men like my ex-wife wants to."

Mr. Raker applauds. "You are a noble soul Daryl Willis. So back to the attack on your self. You are on the ground, helpless and almost dead. Then what did your attacker of an ex-wife do?"

Daryl curls into a ball. "Electrocuted me again. Spit on me, and just left me for dead."

"Your honour," Miss Singh whispers as she cowards at the front of the courtroom. Her knees knock, eyes focusing on the bottom of the judge's bench. The judge surveys this rookie lawyer with contempt. He decides right there, she'll never make it, like he thinks with every new female lawyer that stands before him. Miss Singh also experiences not-making it thoughts as she holds the Fear Saver in her trembling hand. She attempts to speak again. Little more then a mouse squeak comes out.

"Speak up, Miss Singh," scolds Judge Underwood.

"Sorry Sir."

Judge Underwood hammers his gavel. "Louder!"

"Sorry Sir," Miss Singh says with more jam in her tone. "Your honour, the Fear Saver has an excellent digital recording device. I wish to play for the court the audio recorded at the time of the incident between Daryl Willis and my client."

"Was the Fear Saver a fully approved product at the time? And I mean fully approved."

"No, no your honour, but."

He hammers his gavel twice. "Counsellor. Do not submit evidence in my court that is gathered on an illegal device. That evidence is not admissible." Another whack of the gavel. "And let that be a lesson to you Miss Singh." Snickers sound from Mr. Raker and his legal team.

Margaret sits proudly in the witness chair. She glares at Mr. Raker. He tosses his hands in the air out of disgust. The lawyer rages, slapping the wooden rail. He flips his tie over his shoulder to add to the show. "Answer the question. Did you send a second electrical shock at your ex-husband while he was on the ground?"

Mr. Raker storms back and forth as Margaret takes her time.

"Daryl was threatening me. And he was already standing up after the first zap."

Mr. Raker points a threatening finger at her. "Clearly, the honourable Daryl Willis said he was on the ground. Answer the question with a yes or no. Did you zap him with that hideous weapon a second time?"

Judge Underwood chimes in, "Witness, answer the question right now."

Margaret takes a cleansing breath, looks at Mr. Raker, looks at Judge Underwood and finally at Daryl. "Yes. And he deserved it."

There is utter silence in the courtroom as everyone absorbs her statement.

Margaret carries on, "The stories that have been falsely manufactured against me by Earl, Brad, Robert, Hector, Brittany and Daryl have made a mockery of these civil proceedings. And Andrea didn't lie, but her so called professional opinion is grounded in her obvious bias." She points at Robert.

Two cracks of Judge Underwood's gavel ring out. "Silence!"

She ignores the judge. "And anyone can see that medical report is a joke as are that man's injuries." She points at Daryl. The crowd cheers her on.

Three cracks of Judge Underwood's gavel ring out. "I said silence Margaret Willis!"

With her eyes she flings knifes at the judge. She speaks with even more conviction, "Also, the audio evidence that was so thoughtlessly thrown out from the Fear Saver would show clearly Daryl is lying as it did in the criminal investigation. And would show what kind of person Hector Gomez is."

Repeated hammers of the gavel. "One thousand dollar fine for contempt of court."

"And the fact that." Margaret points at Daryl. "That, that monster who has a long criminal record, a long history of beating me. Killed our daughter. Had violently struck me on that day. And then was getting ready to finish the job. I rest my case."

The crowd stands and cheers for Margaret. Judge Underwood yells and pounds his gavel, having no effect on the cheering.

TWELVE

Both Margaret and Daryl's teams sit on their respective sides of the courtroom one half hour later. They wait for the judge to make his ruling. Margaret realizes this decision could smash their dream. Except, without Chad by her side, that dream may be dead anyway. Man, she thinks how she misses him. But no way, she'll put up with that crap.

"I find the utilization of such a device deplorable," Judge Underwood says. "And the second attack by Margaret Willis was even more deplorable. This unwarranted attack has caused serious hardships for Daryl Willis as indicated in the medical report."

Daryl issues a lengthy, sickly cough.

The judge carries on, "This unwarranted attack by Margaret Willis was more probably then not, motivated as part of a pre-planned unauthorized test. As well as being motivated by pure and simple, revenge."

Judge Underwood clears his throat, taking a drink of water. "Therefore, the overwhelming evidence against Margaret Willis leaves me no choice to rule in favour of Daryl Willis."

The crowd boos. The judge hammers his gavel. An energetic Daryl leans way over, giving high fives to Robert and Brad. Mr. Raker attempts to restrain the man. The crowd witnesses Daryl's agile antics, letting out additional boos.

Judge Underwood scowls, sneering at the crowd. "Order, or I will clear my courtroom."

The crowd quietens after a minute.

"There are two components to the damages. First component, Margaret Willis, you are ordered by the court to pay Daryl Willis one hundred thousand dollars."

Margaret and the crowd gasp.

"As far as the second component of damages, Margaret Willis, you are ordered by the court to turn over the Fear Saver wristband utilized in the attack, and the registered patent for said wristband to Daryl Willis or his named representative."

Margaret's mind goes numb. The judge barks a few more words on the details of the ruling. The only item that vaguely registers with her is that Robert Anderson has been named as the representative to collect the Fear Saver and the patent on Daryl's behalf.

The judge works the gavel one final time. "Court adjourned."

Cheers and high five flood Daryl's team, except for Brittany who stays quiet.

Margaret forces herself out of her daze. On her way out she glowers at Brittany, directing her comments to her, "Expected this from these scum, but not from you."

Robert steps in front of Margaret and whispers, "Not done crushing you Bitch." He addresses Daryl's team. "Drinks are on me. But first, let's go charm the press." He points at the media standing at the back of the courtroom and yells, "Our hero, Mr. Daryl Willis and I will be giving a statement at the top of the Courthouse steps in a moment. The public needs to know the truth in regard to the travesties our hero has suffered under this witch named Margaret Willis."

A smiling Robert and Daryl leaning on his cane, hold their own court on the front of the courthouse steps. The TV camera focuses on the two. Robert holds Daryl's arm in the air like a victorious lightweight. Magically, Robert has transformed his clothes and grooming in these 15 minutes, ensuring his public image comes off business crisp and clean. For his grieving husband acting roll ended with the triumphant verdict.

Robert bellows, "This is a victory for all the little guys out there."

A tomato hits Robert in the face, then an egg. A tomato and egg follow into Daryl's face. High pitched screams fill the air, closing in on the two. Many more tomatoes, eggs and other items hurl toward the two men. Robert and a no cane Daryl flee at record speed from the pursuing women.

A week later Margaret opens her apartment door on a typical rainy night in San Jose. A wet, crying Andrea shivers there like a lost traumatized sheep. Margaret's blood boils at first sight. But after studying the distraught Andrea for many moments, her heart begins to melt a little. For she recognizes Andrea's enlightening moment is near. Margaret's seen and felt it many times.

"I'm so sorry," Andrea mutters. "I'm such a fool."

Margaret grasps the dripping lady's hand, leading her into the room, hugging her.

Andrea sniffles. "He's such an asshole." She puts her head on Margaret's shoulder. "I can be so smart, and then so stupid."

"Welcome to the club honey."

The two share a strained chuckle. Margaret collects Andrea's wet coat, hanging it in the closet.

"You were so right Margaret."

"You're not the first lady to have her thinking clouded by a man."

Margaret leads the upset lady to the sofa, handing her a box of tissues.

Andrea wipes away more tears. "I fire you. I testify against you. You should throw me out. I am so, so sorry."

"Forgiven."

"Miss you so much down at the Shelter. Please come back."

"I do miss the shelter." Margaret licks her lips while she ponders. "But I want to keep moving forward. I've attained my level two certification in Mindfulness. I'm ready for another phase of my life. Whatever that is?"

"I never told you, but Margaret, you're amazing."

"Thank you. Now, what happened with Robert?"

"We had a number of drinks. Even the Nanny."

"Oh no!"

"Then the Nanny and I are alone. She alludes to their long standing affair." Andrea clenches her jealous fists.

"Did wonder about that."

"Then I asked her about the night that Luke called you. And she reluctantly admitted that Robert beat her. And she lied to emergency services. But swears she'll never testify against him."

"Are you surprised Andrea?"

"No, no." Andrea slumps into the sofa. "But after Robert telling me he didn't. And Brad and Robert's driver supporting his story. I'm a professional. Supposed to defend these victims. Not be taken in by an asshole. Or a bunch of assholes." She covers her embarrassed cheeks. "Then I go and ask Luke about that night he called you. He innocently shows me a coffee table his Dad smashed when the Nanny spilt a drink that very evening."

"Luke's living in fear," Margaret says.

"For sure! So I confront Robert. He gives me that look. Rages like a wild bull. Pounds his fist on the table."

"Scary guy."

"It's at that point, I realized he is very capable of murder." She shutters. "Except, why does he hold such power over me?" She can't believe how she dumped her kind and loving man of four years, after spending one night with Robert's overconfidence and aggression.

"Been wondering that Andrea. Think hard."

Andrea shuts her eyes, father flashbacks filling her mind. "Oh my God! Robert's just like my dad."

"How was that relationship?"

Andrea touches her glasses. For her father called her Four Eyes. "Hell. Pure hell Margaret. I could never please that awful man. When I listen to Robert criticize and shout, like listening to my dad."

"Time to let go of the past. Both your Dad, and Robert."

"Except with Robert." Andrea starts crying again. Maybe, he can change.

"Oh dear. You've got it bad."

"Real bad. I am so, so in love with him."

"Showdown time," a determined Margaret declares as she storms through the door of Brittany Bouvier's office the next morning.

A startled Brittany jerks her head up from her computer screen. The mere sight of Margaret sends her feeling of guilt through the roof. She wants that humiliation hole to open and swallow her up right now. "How, how did you get through security?"

"No stoping a woman with truth behind her." Margaret waited over a week for this showdown, gathering strength. But this discussion had to happen, or she'd have no closure.

Brittany stands nervously. "I, I've nothing to say to you."

Margaret strides to a chair in front of Brittany's desk, planting herself. "Oh I think you do."

Brittany drops back down in defeat. "You got two minutes."

Margaret stares into Brittany's guilty eyes. She looks down in shame. "Was it worth it?"

No answer from Brittany, head continuing to hang down.

"I forgive you."

The venture capitalist's head jerks up.

Margaret taps Brittany's desk. "He either paid you a ton, or had some dirt."

Brittany's silence continues.

"You must have been presented one hell of a reason to screw me but good. Not only out of the Fear Saver. But the way you pulled your lawyers at the last minute. And I got stuck with a rookie with little prep time. Then to show up at court and lie. Wow!" Margaret laughs mockingly. "At least I got my self respect. How about you?"

Brittany squirms in her chair, Whispering, "No comment."

"That's the best you got."

Brittany whispers again, "Everything I say is off the record. I'll deny ever saying it."

"Like I said, I forgive you. But would like to know."

"Oh girl, hardest thing I've ever done. But Robert knew about my past."

"What'd you mean?"

"First off, I've had a history in my teens of some mental illness."

"So what."

"There's more. Robert was best friends with my husband. They both belong to that racist underground club"

"The husband who abused Kyle and you?"

Yes. "Underneath, he hated being married to someone who wasn't white. And he hated his son too." Brittany shuts her eyes with the memory. "And I killed him."

"In self defence?"

"In a manner Margaret. I could have taken the beatings my self. But when he'd beat Kyle. I couldn't take it. I snapped."

Margaret reaches over and takes Brittany's hand. "I'm so sorry."

"So one night after beating me, he started severely beating Kyle. So I shot him."

"But, that's over. Were there any charges Brit?"

"Police investigation didn't result in criminal charges. But Robert claims he has videos from the past when we used to all party together."

"What kind of videos?"

Brittany moans with regretful pain. "Of me saying things to my husband that I wanted to kill him."

"But the case is over. Can't be brought out now."

Brittany collapses into her chair. "Oh God! But it casts plenty of doubt. The way the criminal investigation was left, could be re-opened."

"They'd never re-open a case so cut and dried."

"Robert does have judicial connections. But even if the case didn't get re-opened in the criminal court. He threatened to take me to civil court on his dead friend's behalf."

Margaret slaps the arm of the chair. "Bluffing."

"Not Robert Anderson. Truly has influence. Win or lose, I'd be ruined."

Margaret gazes out the window, remembering the things Robert's done to her. "Powerful man. I'll grant you that."

"Worst of all Margaret, he threatened to use his high level connections at Child Protection Services to challenge my mental capacity to function as a mother. I couldn't lose Kyle."

THIRTEEN

Early that evening Margaret stands outside of Robert's front door. A flushed faced Robert fills the doorway of the magnificent mansion. Margaret's lawyer, Miss Singh, points a phone cam, videoing the proceedings. Margaret feels nauseous. Handing her dream over to this monster makes her want to scream. But she must go through with it.

Margaret shuffles, struggling to remember the words Miss Singh instructed her to say, winging it instead. "Since you're to accept on Daryl's behalf, and we had a side deal anyway."

"Never thought you'd have the guts."

"I'm making the official transfer of the Fear Saver wristband and the patent registration." Margaret hands the Fear Saver and a brown envelope to Robert.

He smiles for the phone cam. "Justice prevails. Happy endings do take place."

Margaret passes an expensive bottle of Scotch to Robert. "To the victor. Dara had mentioned it was your favourite."

"Going to enjoy this right now." Robert turns to Miss Singh. "Turn that off please." She stops videoing. "Best fucking thing you ever done old lady."

Robert goes to slam the door. But Luke and his yapping puppy come flying out. Luke gives Margaret a long hug.

"Get back in side," yells Robert as he kicks the puppy.

Margaret ends the hug and gives Luke a large cookie jar.

Robert snatches the cookie jar from Luke. "Now get the fuck out of here Bitch!" He smashes the cookie jar on the front step.

A wobbly Robert and a sheepish looking Andrea talk in his mansion's front entrance three hours later. Robert enjoys a large swallow from his glass full of the victory Scotch. "What do you want Bitch?"

"I'm sorry. I was wrong." Andrea wears a short seductive red dress, hair styled, contacts replacing her eyeglasses and erotic perfume filling the room.

Robert leers at Andrea's dramatic makeover, showing his obvious lust. "Fucking right. Have you come crawling back?"

"Yes, Robert."

"Not that easy baby. You questioned me. Not wise Bitch."

"I'm so sorry. I love you."

Robert let's go with his wolf like grin. "You women are finally learning. That bitch Margaret crawled to my front step." He points at the Fear Saver on an entrance table. "Spoils of war."

"You're the man." Andrea takes one tentative step toward Robert. "Where's Luke and Nanny?"

"Sent them out for a few hours, along with that fucking puppy."

Andrea winks. "Can we?"

He drains his Scotch, setting his glass aside. "You gonna play by my rules?"

"Of course." Andrea touches his arm seductively. "I need you. I want you."

Robert slaps her across the face. Andrea looks up at him with that whipped puppy look. She then smiles.

"You liked that Bitch?" He slaps her again.

"Do you want me to like it Robert?"

He slaps her one more time. "Fucking right." He laughs the laugh of an evil and twisted master. "Actually, I don't give a fuck how you like it." He slaps her much harder, knocking Andrea to her knees.

She wipes a tear of pain from her eye, holding back a moan.

Robert thumps his chest. "I do like it rough."

Andrea rises slowly. "Then I like it rough too. I want to be the best you ever had."

Robert grabs her by the hair. "Upstairs Bitch."

"I want to be better then Dara."

Robert begins dragging her to the staircase. "Won't take much. She was my little whipping mouse."

Five minutes later in the master bedroom Robert towers over Andrea near the fourposter bed. Her makeup runs, dress ripped. "So make it rough big boy."

He makes a fist. He swings at her. She ducks. He follows up with a glancing blow which knocks her across the bed, smashing her lip on a bedpost. "I'm still warming up tramp."

Andrea rises with blood trickling from her lip. Robert gets this crazed look in his black eyes. He strikes her again. She falls back. The blow opens up a cut on her cheek, blood spilling out. She rises quickly again, putting space between her and Robert.

"Stay still Bitch."

"No way big boy."

"Fucking right you will."

Robert attempts to strike her again. She steps aside.

"Bit slow old man."

That comment and the flowing blood from Andrea sends him over the top. He strikes at her multiple times. She sidesteps the out of control man, leaving him hitting only air.

He yells like a madman, "I told you stay still." He halts to take a breath.

"Such a pussy Robert. Work for it. I'm not like Dara who just stood there."

The taunt reignites Robert's rage, hitting a feverish level. "That feeble fucking Princess."

"Cause she fell down the stairs?"

Robert screams, "She never fell down the stairs." He realizes what he's said. He moves quick, striking her viciously, knocking her back, banging her head on the wall. She crumples to the floor. She's dazed. Blood continues to spill from her.

He breathes heavy as he points at her. "You're gonna die. Just like Dara."

Robert moves in for the kill as he takes a heavy step toward her. Andrea pulls out a second Fear Saver wristband. It halts him.

She speaks into the wristband in a groggy voice, "Got enough."

Robert kicks that second Fear Saver out of Andrea's hand, sending it into the wall. Andrea screams. Robert follows up with a strike to Andrea's head, knocking her out cold.

"Now to finish you Bitch." He takes a step toward her, ready to deliver the final blow.

Margaret bursts into the room. She holds the Fear Saver that Robert left in the front entrance. She yells, "It's over Robert. Police on their way."

"Fuck that!"

Robert rushes at Margaret like a deranged monster. Before she can use the wristband, he delivers a knockout punch. It sends her sprawling to the floor. Her head throbs. She appears to be out cold.

"Get to finish off two bitches in one night."

He prepares to deliver a deadly kick to Margaret's head. In her dazed state, she points the wristband at him that she managed to hang on to. She hits the green button, starting the protective shield. A loud humming fills the room.

Robert screams when his foot hits that shield, pushing him back in pain. He grasps a chair. Margaret realizes the shield won't protect her from that. She also worries about how much charge this battery has left.

As Robert goes to swing the chair, Margaret rolls to her side. She aims the wristband at him. She hits the red button. A zapping sound fills the room. He and the chair drop. He convulses next to Margaret. Margaret attempts to move. But she's in excruciating pain with her head exploding.

Robert flails about. He begins to gain control of himself. He moans, fixing his crazed eyes on her. "You Bitch." He raises his hand to strike Margaret. She can't gamble that there's enough energy in the battery to use the protective shield. Immediately before he is about to deliver another blow, she hits the red button, letting fly with a shorter sounding zap. He convulses again. But in a few moments, the big man begins to gain some control.

"I'll kill you," he utters out.

Margaret says with conviction, "Just for good measure." She sends a third, and fourth short electrical zap his way. This time Robert passes out as police sirens sound in the distance.

Margaret mutters, "And those were for Dara."

Minutes later Margaret shivers out on the mansion's front lawn, supporting a bandage on her head. She watches a raging Robert being led out of the house with handcuffs on. He's being ushered by two burly police officers who also have both Fear Savers. Margaret waves bye-bye. It sends Robert over the top. He attempts to rush at her. One of the police officers clubs the large red haired monster, bringing him to his knees. He's manhandled into the squad car, collecting a couple more bruises along the way.

A moment later an unconscious Andrea is wheeled out on a stretcher. Two Emergency Response professionals whisk her toward an ambulance. Margaret's concern meter shoots up as she witnesses the worried look on the emergency response team. One of the workers says, "She's as bad off as the time that lady died here."

FOURTEEN

A motionless Andrea sleeps in a hospital bed with bandages populating her head and face. She's hooked up to an IV. Margaret spent all night at her side. The tired Margaret wears her bandage from the night before. She sits next to the bed, holding the unconscious lady's hand.

Lisa strides into the room with a sandwich on a plate. "Here you go. Hospital's finest."

Margaret accepts the plate from Lisa. "Thanks. Oh she took some blows last night."

"Tough lady!"

"Without fear. Determined to get something incriminating. And man she did."

"Will she ever wake up Grandma?"

"I hope. Let it go on too long. She should have got out. Or called me in sooner."

Andrea stirs. She moves her head a fraction, groans, seeming disoriented.

Margaret puts down the plate. She takes both Andrea's hands. "Andrea, Andrea, it's Margaret."

"Who kicked me in the head?" Andrea asks in a pained voice.

Margaret places a cool cloth on Andrea's forehead. "An Asshole named Robert."

Andrea opens both eyes slowly. She attempts to rise.

Margaret holds her down with gentle hands. "No, you don't. Just rest. So glad you woke up. Lisa call a nurse."

Lisa hits a button by the bed. Andrea shuts her eyes and moans.

"Just rest," Margaret instructs.

Andrea opens her eyes in a start. "Coming back to me. Robert. What?"

"Robert's in jail."

"Good. I hate him."

"The asshole's gonna get fried," Lisa adds.

Margaret issues Lisa a stern look. "On top of lots of Fear Saver audio and a little video which Chad helped the police to extract, and under more intense questioning the Nanny came forward and confessed Robert killed Dara. He'd threatened to kill the Nanny if she didn't protect him."

"Thank goodness he's done. But Luke?"

"Nanny's with him right now. She does care for him."

Andrea forces a smile. "She really does."

"But he's coming to stay with us some of the time as this gets sorted out." Margaret fixes the blanket on Andrea. "Enough for now." She pats Andrea's hand. "You rest."

"Thank you Margaret for saving me."

"And thank you Andrea for leaving the front door unlocked."

"Would you do me a favour Margaret?"

"Anything you'd like."

Andrea speaks in a weak voice, "Please be my personal mindfulness coach."

Margaret hugs her. "I'd love to."

Andrea whispers, "Cause I'll need your help with raising Robert's baby." She falls asleep as a nurse enters the room.

Margaret, Lisa and Tyler sit around their kitchen table the next evening. They eat Chinese food, sipping from Chinese teacups. The Fear Saver lies on the table. Tyler plays on his phone, determined to master the Ty game. Margaret hasn't enjoyed a meal like this for ages as she devours the food.

"Luke's being brought back later," Margaret informs.

"Awesome," Tyler says as he works his game. "Hope he's bringing the puppy back." He pops up a pic of the pup. "So cute."

"Yeah! Not like my little bro."

Tyler giggles as a short video comes in from Luke of his puppy tossing a ball in the air. "Look at this." He turns his phone to them. "Lisa, you can't even do that."

Lisa throws a fortune cookie at Tyler, hitting him square on the nose. "How's that for a toss?" She beams with her accurate shot, figuring there's hope for her in the athletic area.

"Lucky! But give you a ball, and it'll be breaking the window," he laughs and goes back to his game.

"Just another brain dead jock!" Lisa peeks at a tiny paper from a fortune cookie. "It says I'll be surrounded by wisdom. So very true. Except for Ty. How come your so smart Grandma?"

Margaret taps Lisa on the arm. "Been hanging around you."

Lisa grabs the Fear Saver from the center of the table. "You having Chad make a second wristband helped get the dirt on Robert."

Tyler looks up from playing his game. "And Grandma, you having the guts to go in the house, saved Andrea's life. You're a hero."

"So true Ty." Lisa winces. "But us being screwed by our stupid Grandpa still sucks."

Margaret smirks. "But now that Robert's in jail. One of his main backers is out of the game. I went to see Brad after he called me today, your Grandpa's other backer. He had his engineers open the one Fear Saver they got back from the Police. They had it open right there. They had no idea how the Fear Saver worked. In fact, they couldn't get the wristband to function at all. The security was like nothing they ever encountered. Thanks to Chad." Margaret twitches when she speaks his name.

A perceptive Lisa grasps her grandmother's hand.

Margaret takes another sweet & sour chicken ball. "When I told Brad all the detailed design specs sit in Chad's head. He went crazy. Decided to walk away from the Fear Saver. His engineer had just closed it. He threw it at me. Caught it and put it in my pocket. That's why we have this one."

"Sounds real mature," comments Lisa.

"Totally, he hurt his fist when he punched the wall as I walked out. Hurt his fist again when he punched it for a second time. Just cause his executive assistant was laughing at his stupidity."

Lisa snickers. "So it's useless in Grandpa's hands thanks to Chad?"

"Absolutely." Margaret sighs with a flashback, setting down her chopsticks.

Tyler sighs as well, tugging on his Liverpool FC jersey. "I miss Chad."

"I do too. But we've moved on, and so has he." Margaret takes a sip of her tea to steady her nerves.

Tyler keeps tapping on his cell. "But he was kind of like having a fun Grandpa. Not like our real one."

"True enough," Lisa agrees.

Tyler gazes up. "Only time we see our Grandpa Daryl is when he was creeping around our apartment basement."

Margaret grips her teacup. "When was that?"

"Don't remember exactly," replies Lisa. "Ty and I were coming home from school. We even took a couple pics."

Lisa snatches her phone off the table, flipping through it.

Tyler frowns. "We waved to him. Ignored us, and ran off."

Lisa sits up straight. "Here it is. Date stamped." She shows the pics to Margaret.

Margaret's eyes widen. "Bingo. That was the day of the pit break in. You know. This could be ammo to open up the civil case."

Lisa's eyes widen with opportunity. "Let's go after that slime ball Grandpa of ours."

Margaret thinks for a moment. "Couldn't go through that right now. But maybe that dream isn't dead."

Lisa flashes a cunning grin. "Grandpa sure can't afford to have another conviction with his probation and long record. Let's make a deal."

Margaret slaps her hand on the table. "No way I'd make a deal with that criminal. Lisa, where did you learn to think like that?"

"Welcome to business 101," Lisa answers.

"Oh kids, I couldn't. But speaking of business. Brittany wants to wipe the slate clean. Start over on something very exciting."

"What's that?" Lisa asks.

"She saw Tyler playing the Ty game. Loved the idea. That means that we'll be talking about starting a company called the Ty."

Tyler sits up tall in his chair. "A real company named after me."

Lisa whines. "Ah, no way. His head will swell!"

Tyler winks at his sister. "Ty Incorporated. Has an awesome ring? Lisa, you can be my gopher."

Lisa sticks out her tongue. "Get lost you little jerk."

"Be a good little gopher," Tyler chirps. "Bring me some of Grandma's cookies."

"Chauvinist pig!" Lisa kicks Tyler under the table.

"Ouch Lisa. Your fired."

Margaret takes their hands. "Get along cofounders. Cause you'll both own a big chunk of Ty Incorporated. And may the startup dream hit you like it's hit me."

A beautiful San Jose sunny day as Lisa stands in the background with Margaret and Daryl sitting far apart on a park bench a week later. Lisa videos every moment with her phone cam. Margaret shows Daryl a pic on her phone.

"Fucking bullshit," Daryl takes a shot from his whiskey bottle. "I'll kill you both."

"Video's running," reminds Lisa.

Daryl flips his granddaughter the finger. Lisa sticks out her tongue.

"You know the deal," Margaret says.

"So hand it over sleaze ball," commands Lisa.

Daryl slaps the second Fear Saver in Margaret's right hand. This is the other Fear Saver he got back from the Police today. The Police have all the audio and video they need to nail Robert.

"Thank you." Margaret holds out her left hand. "And the other."

"Fuck." Daryl tosses a brown envelope to Margaret. It is the envelope that she'd given to Robert which holds the registered patent for the Fear Saver. "Fucking woman!"

"And fork over the other doc," Lisa demands.

Daryl throws a piece of paper at Margaret which absolves her of the hundred grand payment he was entitled to. He kicks the dirt in anger, a lot of money to walk away from. Except, Daryl's on strict probation. He knows he'd be returning to the slammer for a long time, if this charge sticks. He takes a guzzle from his bottle and storms off, shaking his fist at Lisa. "I hate your sweatshirt!"

"And all feminists hate you! Including me!" Lisa flips her grandfather the finger. "Hey scumbag, do you know what a shower is?" She laughs, races off to her grandmother and high fives her. Lisa takes on a stone cold face. She turns back to her fleeing grandfather and yells out, "And someday I'll make you pay for killing my mom!"

"Will you marry me?" Chad asks that night at a high end restaurant. He wears a suit and tie. The first time in this rebel's life he dawned one of these uncomfortable outfits. He poses in the proposal position. He offers an engagement ring to Margaret at their corner table in the dimly lit room. An eery silence surrounds that table and life changing moment as he hovers on one knee.

Margaret enjoys a whiff of the roses in the middle of the table. "No Chad."

The disappointment is evident on him. He rises slowly, shoving the ring in his pocket, sitting in his chair. "But I'm so sorry for what happened."

"And I forgive you. I thank you for all you've done for me. But my answer's still no."

"But."

"Chad, for the first time in my life. I don't need a man. Don't want a man. And I want to enjoy that freedom. In fact, I'm too busy for a man."

"I'm sad. But I'm proud of you, Margaret."

"But I'd welcome you as a business partner in Fear Saver."

Chad clears his disappointed throat. "For sure!"

"I'm also going to go it alone in a cookie startup. Never thought I'd say that."

"Smashing! You're going to be busy."

"And I have two grandchildren that miss you like crazy. And that would welcome your help and partial ownership in Ty Inc."

"You know I love hanging with them, and you."

Margaret pauses for a moment. "And I enjoy your friendship. But it ends there."

The next afternoon a smiling Margaret holding a cookie jar, shepherds an excited Lisa and Tyler into Brittany's office. Brittany gives all three mega hugs. She claps her hands and exclaims, "Time to fire up some startup dreams!"
